Travels with Stevie in Search of Everything, episode 1

It’s a balmy 28 degrees Fahrenheit in Jackson, Wyoming, and the end of the third week of the second month of my first year completely removed from academia. I graduated in December 2020, 9 months into a pandemic, living in a place I never thought I would realistically return to.

I didn’t know the Tetons existed until I was 18, when I saw them, just barely, far off in the distance while watching a sunset in Yellowstone National Park. At 19, I drove cross-country from New Jersey to California, fulfilling a bizarre childhood dream of traversing all of Interstate 80. Then I doubled back and landed in Jackson, where I had lined up a job and a place to live without ever having met anyone or knowing anything substantive about this place. Looking back now, I was a baby. I spent that summer unraveling everything I thought I knew about myself, the world, and my place in it. I spent my days outside, hiking and running and exploring this new world, driving 8 hours in a day to visit Moab, then Glacier NP, and living each day to the fullest. Ten weeks of pure, unadulterated bliss. And when late August rolled around, I packed up my car and drove back east, grateful for the experience but knowing full well that I wouldn’t return to Jackson — or the west, for that matter — for a good long time. It just wasn’t in my plans!

Fast forward two years, through 6 months in Spain and 5 in Chile, and my triumphant return to GW, feeling like a new gal: confident in myself, excited by my goals and ambition, and secure in my ability to make Washington, DC work for me on my terms.

And then the world stopped turning.

I wish that was an exaggeration, but that is exactly how the first two months of the pandemic felt. Everything stopped, and suddenly the most exciting part of my day was a 2 mile run along the Rock Creek Pathway and standing outside of Trader Joe’s for an hour, 6-feet apart in line, wearing a mask made from an old t-shirt (thanks, Danielle!).

Anyway!

I spent two months living alone in DC, then moved back home to New Jersey in May, anticipating a low-key summer of socially-distanced hiking in the nearby Delaware Water Gap recreation area, quality time with my parents, and lots of leisurely reading by the pool.

To be clear, none of this sounded terrible to me. I was overwhelmed by the fear and anxiety of catching COVID-19, stressed out by online classes that struggled to keep my attention for more than five minutes at a time, and burnt out from trying to keep my depression at bay so I could finish out the semester without any major failures. A summer spent at home, focusing only on being outside and taking care of myself, felt well-earned. Moreover, I felt incredibly lucky to be in a place where I could safely wander and adventure without endangering others.

Then, at the end of June, a pal from my summer job in Jackson posted on instagram, advertising a job opening for this summer. I thought about it all day, casually mentioning it to my parents, but deep down felt like all signs were pointing me back to Jackson. I DM’d Kyle: “are ya’ll really hiring?! Ill come out!”

I drove out the following day.

Now here I am, February 2021, a college graduate, having made a home for myself in Jackson, Wyoming. Last week I bought a used Subaru, which i’ve affectionately named Stevie, and my Wyoming driver’s license arrived in the mail two days ago. To paraphrase the words of Taylor Swift, the poet of our generation, I’m putting roots in my dreamland.

And in true 20-something-living-in-Jackson fashion, I’m preparing to build out my Subaru Crosstrek to live out of this summer.

So even though warm weather is still months away, my journey begins here:

Car: purchased.

Blog: started.

Super: stoked.