The Speed in Which Humans Were *Meant* to Travel

                    Travel. It's a mainstay in human life. All day every day we travel. We walk, we drive to work, to school, we drive back, we commute to the grocery store, to the bank. Humans are always on the move. In modern society, we see movement like this as an inconvenience. With the modernization of delivery, the influx of food to your door apps like UberEats and DoorDash, the grocery delivery apps like InstaCart, the online stores like Amazon, we have come to a point in human history where travel is dwindling. But there was once a time where travel was not only a major part of human life, it was human life. We as a species were meant to travel, to move, we were intended to be nomadic. Richard Grant states in his book "American Nomads" (a PHENOMENAL read that I couldn't suggest enough) that humans from infancy are grown accustom to travel and movement by the rocking by mothers as a way of soothing. From the moment we come into this world we are calmed by movement. It is our way. But is it possible that we have both lost the need for travel yet also gone too far with it?

                    When you look at how we travel today versus how we did in the pass, you see how wide of marginal difference there is between the two. Today, with our "streak of lightning cars" as the Man in Black so eloquently put it, we can be anywhere almost instantaneously. A trip to town is an hour or two out of our life. A trip across the U.S., which used to be a dangerous undertaking of several months, now takes mere days. I am of the opinion that we are moving too fast. I'm often accosted for saying this as I have no license and rarely drive, but I firmly believe I would hold the same belief even if I did. I walk a lot. I walk around my town, taking in the sights, the smells, seeing the hustle and bustle of people out and about, seeing nature grow and flourish. These walks mean very much to me and bring a sense of bliss no automobile ever could. Now am I saying that the automobile isn't important? Absolutely not. It's an incredible feat of engineering and is one of the most influential inventions ever thought up. It is probably the most used appliance in history and is very much needed in the world. What I am attempting to illustrate however is that it should be ok for someone to reject this and spend their life at a slower pace. When we're speeding by at 80 miles per hour, we miss the small details that make this world beautiful, that make life worth living. We don't see the branches, or the blades of grass, the butterfly fluttering around a flower, or the bird perched on some tree or wire. We as a species were meant to travel slowly and many of us, myself included, want to experience this near extinct way of life. The saying has always been "the journey beats the destination" hasn't it? Doesn't that saying lose meaning when the journey is nothing but a lightning fast car ride? 

                    Now I'm very much aware that this can come off as the crazy ramblings of a hitchhiking fanatic with no real obligations to society. And all that is true, I'll accept that. But if I'm in a boat to live this lifestyle I preach so heavily about then why not grasp the opportunity? Why not walk my nation as the conquistadors and the mountain men, the Natives and the cowboys, the likes of Kerouac and Cassady, and so many other vagabonds before me? I feel as though my life is going by too fast and its high time to slow it down. No car ride for me, Life, my time here is gonna be a walk in the park! (or a hike down the road, so to speak!)

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Upon A Kayak to the Tributary

     I awoke at around 7, my father already up and at 'em in the cabin preparing to head for work. I, choosing not to, hung back to explore the campgrounds. Set on kayaking the river a bit, I did. Not far up river from the grounds I found an area that peaked my interest tenfold. Wooden stumps, possibly poles from a bridge once was, on both sides of the river, on the left side a small creek, brook, tributary, what name you flow down from the forest into the river. Rowing hard, my kayak hit the small beach of this area, and I stepped onto it, eager to explore.      Upon first arrival, my first notice was the tiny bluff, per se, to the left, a perfect spot for a tent after some light clearing. Another area between it and the water would make for excellent campfirings. To the right, the itty bitty toothpick width flow of water. Trees of all sizes lay above it, fallen over some time before, perhaps from erosion, or wind, or the violent hurricanes of years prior....
Read more

Beneath a Sky of Reds, Whites, and Blues

         The fireworks began around 9;30, I was posted up by the boat docks, beer in hand, several others already down the hatch, chair reclined and body pointed at the night sky. Fireworks have always astonished me, always left me in a sense of awe. As a child the booms and bangs scared me, my mother having to cover my ears, yet I always remained to watch them. I'm 24 now and nothing has changed, I still adore fireworks, and being a little inebriated, they awed me more. Fireworks bring a sense of freedom, as I suppose they are meant to do, but not necessarily from an American standpoint. I love my country, don't get me wrong, and I love what the 4th means and what the fireworks mean from that, but they mean much more to me than that. In a somewhat mystical sense, the fireworks represent me and how I feel, a cluster of powder just waiting to be set alight and jump into the night to burst into colors and flashes of light, to awe and spectacle, to show the world i...
Read more