to simplify 2.0    notes from a life on the open road

Thursday, August 25, 2016


I've spent the past week or so nestled at the end of my cousin's long and wooded driveway on Maine's secluded Georgetown Island. Where befitting of life on a secluded island, I've done little more than relax by the water, hang with some quality folks, savor the home cooking, play my horn, and yes, all while not blogging. It's like that sometimes.

Speaking of the horn, here's something new I recorded the other day:

I think I'm going to start doing these much more regularly. It's great practice, and should help to fill the voids when words are in short supply around here.

Monday, August 15, 2016

First Week

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.

Tuesday, August 9, 2016


Yesterday morning, it was time, so I fired up the spaceship and set a course for the nearest point of relief from this sweltering northeast summer heat – the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York.

I've got a couple of vague destinations in mind, but for the most part, the next couple of months should be pretty carefree. Wherever the road takes me, and all that. No schedules, no plans, just being here now, and going with the flow. It's good to be back at it finally.

Oh, and it's official – seven years of portable living are now in the can as of a few days ago. What better way to celebrate than by popping open a Shiner beside a remote mountain lake, and quietly wondering what treasures the road ahead may hold in store?