Modern society does precious little to prepare one for the slow rhythm of a mostly aimless meander, and so even for the seasoned nomad, the first week back at it is always a bit of an adjustment.
Forced to bob and weave in search of the northeast's few respites from the summer heat and humidity only adds to the challenge, but it looks like the worst is behind me now.
A few days of lake hopping in the Adirondacks, and I'm now neck-deep in making my way east to the coast of Maine, where I intend to hang a left and keep going until I can finally wear clothes again in comfort.
Battling a steady influx of little black dots along the way, seeking out the east coast's version of boondocking wherever it exists, sampling the craft brew scene, and of course, cheering on the Sox amidst a heated pennant race. A simple life, but I still like it.