June 24, 2019 – Crosslake, Minnesota

And I’m back.

I can’t say that I ever really pictured coming back to Crosslake for round two, but here we are. I visited Mari and Syr (my first hosts) recently, and Kaia happened to be in town (Mari’s mother). What a lovely time. I stated my reasons for being back home:

One of my uncles recently had his second leg amputated.

We may be building him a tiny home on my dad’s property.

The VA hospital is keeping him for another two or three months.

I want to remain close by in the event that my services are needed.

During our conversation, I mentioned that given these circumstances, I did not really have a plan for the summer. Kaia offered a second stay at her and Dallin’s place in Crosslake. An intriguing thought.

I walk down from “my” guest cabin to the dock on the lake shore. I have missed this view. It feels so strange, coming back after four years. Yet given the amount of time I spent with the family overall, it feels familiar and comfortable—a rare feeling for me when arriving at my next host.

As my gaze sweeps the length of the lake, I reflect on the last couple months.

The road trip from California back to Iowa. Staying with old friends in Utah that I haven’t seen in years. Visiting another in Colorado the next day. Seeing my sister’s new house in central Iowa; being gifted some quality time with her, her husband, and my nephew.

Easter at my mom’s place in Minnesota. Working with my father and brother in Iowa. Hookah therapy sessions with bro. Socializing with old friends. Visiting my uncle in the hospital. Seeing grandma in the nursing home.

Trying to find peace in not having a plan.

I get settled in to my temporary living space. Dallin and Kaia will have a variety of tasks for me to start on soon. Tomorrow, I begin serving and bartending again at Manhattan’s down the road.

Here’s to a good summer.

“Though some choices may slow our journey, every path we take gives us more familiarity with how our actions affect the world around us, giving us more opportunities to learn how to help ourselves and others.” – Matthew Underwood

April 17, 2019 – Turrialba, Costa Rica

“Whenever you go to a place there’s something magical about learning the process,”

Gabriela states as I listen intently. “Not just consuming. Learning how it grows, how does it affect the land, how does it affect your life? You don’t just see from point A to point B, but everything in between.” She’s referring to the fermentation process of grapes, which we harvested together last fall at the winery in California. We ran out of time back then, so I decided to visit her and capture her interview before producing the Willow Creek videos.

Well worth the trip.

“The traveling experience is nothing if you really don’t connect and really don’t understand the place and get to know the story that the place is trying to tell you—so the only way to really learn that is to connect with the people living there. That’s culture; that’s true connection.” I couldn’t agree more. Gabby’s personality was a key factor in my connection with the group at the winery. She has a way of making you comfortable and encouraging you to let loose simultaneously.

“Just by listening to why people are opening their doors for you—you know it’s not just a working experience, because it’s not. They have their reason for opening their doors and that was why I wanted to walk in there. It was just pure intuition. I want to know something, I don’t know what…let me go and get myself out there and see where my intuition takes me.” Her genuine outlook on “WWOOFing” speaks to my soul. Everyone has their own motivation for pursuing a work exchange, but her and I seem to share a deeper meaning to the process. “Listen to yourself, absolutely, and listen fast because time also is a factor there—the more time you lose, the more time you’re depriving yourself from getting to know so many different layers of the person you are.”

Please marry me.

The trip has been full of adventure thus far; activities have included a bull fighting show (no harm done to the bull), hiking to nearby waterfalls, exploring the river in town, and socializing with her friends and significant other.

“You’re giving yourself that opportunity to get out of your comfort zone, you know, get out of your circle of friends and expand yourself. Because you know you will—whenever you travel you know you’re up for an adventure. You don’t have anything to look for; it will just come to you. Be daring. Be open about it. Be able to receive. Whenever you let things kind of happen and have the flow of your traveling without any time limits—just be open and change, let yourself loose and go—that’s when the true growth comes, because you’re not trying to control or plan whatever your experience is all about. Because the place will give you the experience. The people will give you whatever you’re looking for.” Preach it, lady.

This is my first solo trip out of the country, and it feels good. Not too stressful or difficult to navigate, but still providing some challenge. Excitement. Reward.

“There’s not just one single path to take. That’s what I think the ‘plan’ is all about. Making people feel free. Society cannot define who you are and what you need to be. When you realize that, it is a true eye opener. All this time you have been induced by ideas that are not yours. And whenever you open your eyes and realize that there’s something out there that makes you understand your point of living, and you actually go out there and do it, that’s what this plan is all about. Feeling that. Exploring it. Taking that step forward.”

You don’t know how right you are, my friend.

“When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.” – Ralph Ellison

April 14, 2019 – San Francisco, California

“On belay.”

I confirm with Tara to ensure that she has set up the belay. “Belay on,” she responds. She works at a climbing gym in the city and offered to treat my cousin Kelsey and I to an afternoon of fun.

I met Tara during my year in Montana in the most random of places. Wading through the Boiling River in Yellowstone National Park, she reached out to my cousin Reese while losing her balance on the rocks. As we exited the river, we engaged in conversation.

“Climbing!”

I state as I begin my ascent up the artificial rock wall. “Climb on,” Tara replies. Our visit began early yesterday morning with a mandatory filming session—yoga, meditation, and hiking near the Land’s End Labyrinth followed by an interview at the gym. This morning, we filmed some outdoor climbing at Ocean Beach, then eventually met back at the gym. How fortunate I am.

My other cousins (Molly and Kelsey) ask Tara where she’s from, which leads us to discover that she is on a nomadic journey across the states. I’m obviously immediately intrigued. I give her my number in hopes to connect and learn more about her story.

After a few hours of climbing, Kelsey and I part ways with Tara. I thank her for the opportunity she has provided us. For participating in my project. For her friendship.

We head to Kelsey’s place for the night, where I’ll leave my car and prepare for my first solo trip out of the country.

“Keep on going and the chances are you will stumble on something, perhaps when you are least expecting it. I have never heard of anyone stumbling on something sitting down.” – Charles Kettering

April 12, 2019 – Lake Tahoe, California

“I know a place where I want to go
Could you just stay by my side
It’ll be alright”

I can’t believe it’s over already. Before leaving Tahoe, I promised myself that I would drive around the lake and take pictures. This is remarkable. I enter a state of trance; enveloped in music, recent events circulate around my mind like the blood flowing through it.

“I want to go, I want to fly
I want to take myself to a new sky
I want to live, I want to die
I want to thank myself for getting out”

I’m solving puzzles alongside Camila and others in my first escape room. Not only is she bright, but her spirit energizes mine. Two weeks later, I’m in another room with Melissa and Andrew. She loves games; her playfulness and radiant joy uplift those that surround her.

“Take me to another place
Take me to another place”

I’m watching Andrew sing karaoke at Classic Cue with Melissa and Andrew’s brother, Ethyn. He belts out the lyrics to “45” by Shinedown. Soon after, Melissa and Ethyn tag team Beyonce’s “Single Ladies.” These people have been a blessing to me in many ways, but I am most grateful for their friendship. Of the friends I’ve made at resorts over the years, Melissa has proven to be the most genuine and true. She will be greatly missed.

“I know a place that I want to fly
Could you just open your eyes
And free your mind
I want to face what I haven’t tried”

I’m saying goodbye to Camila for the last time after a fantastic night downtown with our friends. I hug her lovingly as I wish we were all back at the hotel watching live music or having deep conversation at the bar. Work won’t be the same without her presence, her smile. She walks to the cab and I hold back my emotions, envisioning a trip to Argentina to visit her when I can.

“I want to go, I want to fly
I want to take myself to a new sky
I want to live, I want to die
I want to thank myself for getting out”

I’m sitting in a hot tub with my cousin Kelsey; she has returned to Tahoe for the weekend to celebrate her friend’s 30th. Appropriately, a mansion was rented for the weekend to accommodate the large group. We indulge in games, food, drinks, and socialization. This year has brought us even closer together.

I’m at my boss’ house, celebrating the end of the season with those of us that are left. I offer a gift to Chef Phil, who has proven to be an invaluable resource and friend to me over the season. We proceed to let loose and have a blast. I leave in the morning, wishing the best to my friends, and saying goodbye to Tahoe with high spirits and a thirst for what’s to come.

“Take me to another place
Take me to another place”

Rufus Du Sol – New Sky

March 17, 2019 – South Lake Tahoe, California

Mobile status: Engaged.

As I’m walking downtown with my friend Melissa, I’m reminded how good it feels to have everything I own back in my car and ready to move on. Though I’ll be here for another month, my roommate decided to sublet her place so she wouldn’t be stuck paying rent on her own when I move on. Smart play, Emma. This presented me with an unexpected challenge—where will I live for my last month in Tahoe?

We meet up with Melissa’s boyfriend, Andrew, at Hangar for a beer (My sobriety ended after two months for two reasons: the aforementioned family member I was supporting fell off the wagon, and my cousin Kelsey came to Kirkwood for a weekend. I had to show her a good time, right?). We sit around a fire and socialize. They ask me about my time house sitting for my friend “Steve.” (He left for an overseas ski trip for two weeks at the exact time that I needed to be out of Emma’s place, providing us with a mutually beneficial arrangement.)

Serendipity meter: Elevated.

Andrew drops us off at Steamers, where a number of our coworkers are already gathered to watch a performance by one of their significant others. We have a couple drinks. Enjoy the show. Talk to friends. Not a bad St. Patty’s day so far. Someone suggests a move to McP’s Irish Pub; we catch a ride with Chef Phil and pick up Camila on the way (two more of my closer friends here). Our group avoids the chaos inside, instead gathering around a raised fireplace on their patio.

Our night comes to an end at the Hard Rock Casino, where Phil has a room for the night. We head there for a beverage as I propose a toast to him and Courtney (our manager) for carrying us through the season as well as they have. I mean every word. We hit the casino floor and I give Melissa, Camila, and Luke a lesson at the craps table. Shortly afterwards, we call it a night and say goodbye to our coworkers. Luke (our designated driver) takes us home.

Friendship level: Overflowing.

“I am wealthy in my friends.” – William Shakespeare

March 6, 2019 – South Lake Tahoe, California

“You really inspired me! I’m giving away all my stuff and leaving at the end of the month.”

STOP IT. Are you serious? I’m nearly in disbelief as I read a Facebook message from a friend and fellow “WWOOFer” that I worked with last year. Tell me more!

She goes on to explain how her stay lasted much longer than she initially intended, and has even turned into a paid position. She says she also met some new people and went backpacking to Mexico, one of which had been living out of his backpack for three years.

“I came back home and I felt so strange re-identifying with all of my stuff and with this setting of settling.”

She admits to thinking of me often in the inspirational sense. It’s finally happening. The project is actually inspiring change in people. The world around me stops as I read her words.

I’ve never felt this feeling before.

My friend continues on, describing a story similar to mine. She has spent most of her life in one place, failing to truly explore even her own home state. Not to say that this is necessarily a bad thing—many people are happy living such lives. Rather, her story is a testament to how travel can change your perspective on life. Open your eyes.

Transform your heart.

She tells me that she will be returning to the farm in April, and after that, will be a “free bird.” I confess how meaningful her story is to me and how immensely happy I am to have played a part in such a transformation. This may be the most moving conversation I’ve ever had. We agree that a future meet up would be enjoyable.

“We’ll talk more soon, I’m gonna keep filling these boxes with my ridiculous amounts of things I don’t need. Thank you… you really changed my life!”

I thank my friend for her bravery, conviction, and spirit. You are so beautiful.

“The great solution to all human problems is individual inner transformation.” – Vernon Howard

February 10, 2019 – Kirkwood Mountain, California

“Do you want to use this as a pillow?”

I ask a guest as I present a bag of small towels. “Oh, thank you so much,” he responds as he lays across a number of lined up chairs and covers up with a Kirkwood-issued sheet. I go back to the storage room and repeat this process until I have no more to offer.

Well, this is a first.

Our restaurant is being used as a makeshift overflow sleeping quarters for stranded guests due to the current blizzard that’s pummeling the mountain. Some guests were lucky enough to commandeer cushions from the couches around the connected hotel; others are sleeping directly on the floor. I was lucky enough to receive a sleeping bag and pad from a coworker. Most of the stranded guests are in a different building altogether, but there are about fifteen in and around the restaurant. Okay, that seems to be the last of them…

I begin watching a movie on my laptop and serve as night watchman, which I volunteered to do. At this point I’m used to it, as a recent series of snowstorms kept me on the mountain for five days straight. Those nights were much more luxurious; Kirkwood put us up in suites, and I was lucky enough to stay with Melissa and her boyfriend Andrew for two of those nights. Card games. Hot tubbing. Hotel room mini golf. Video games at The Cornice. I even had the privilege of helping my friend James dig his truck out from under a mountain of snow.

I wake up and clear some space on the bar. Put the coffee on. Lay out mugs, tea bags, accoutrements. Various guests indulge and express their gratitude for our hospitality. I thank them in turn, unknowing as they are of the genuine pleasure I receive from practicing such a small act of kindness.

“Hospitality is love in action.” – Alexander Strauch

January 8, 2019 – Kirkwood Mountain, California

Click. Click, click.

I adjust the frame and take a deep breath. Exhale. Click. A smile finds its way to my face as I enjoy a rare “me day” on the mountain. I’m at the top of “The Wall,” a double black diamond run that appears to be one of the more intimidating on the mountain. Sunshine. Perfect temperature.

You picked a good day, Nicholas.

I ride halfway down Headwaters and get some shots of the other side of the mountain. Zoom in. Click, click. Change lenses. It’s a much appreciated therapy session, as I’ve recently discovered that one of my uncles is losing his (other) leg. Simultaneously, my grandmother is being placed in a care center. Click. Click. These events weigh on my heart, but I take solace in the fact that there is plenty of family in Iowa to help them.

I drop into Eagle Bowl and head over to Caples Crest lift. New terrain. Be careful with the camera. To add to the drama, we’ve also had three of our staff recently leave us, including our general manager.

Typical resort shenanigans.

Before I know it, my Canon T4i is back out of the bag and into my hands. Click click click. Lens change. Fortunately, our assistant manager has stepped up and is handling both roles. Thank God for Courtney. I casually ride down Deadwood Spur to Sunrise lift. Near the top, I witness other people hiking up to a nearby peak. How could I not?

The views are remarkable in every direction. I snap some more photos and take in the rays. A beer would be nice, wouldn’t it? But I’m over a month into my winter sobriety, and it’s as refreshing as the mountain air. Drinking culture is synonymous with resort life, but I’m content with avoiding it for the time being.

I’m focused. My mind is clear. I feel good.

I close my eyes, breathe in deeply, and slowly exhale. I feel the cool breeze across my face. The layers of powder all around me. As my eyes open, I observe the majesty that surrounds me.

These things are enough.

“To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter…to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wildflower in spring – these are some of the rewards of the simple life.” – John Burroughs

December 31, 2018 – Kirkwood Mountain, California

I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t drinking over the holidays.

18? 19?

I made a pact a couple weeks ago with a family member (to support their sobriety), but the significance really sinks in as I sip my soda water with lime amongst my coworkers and guests alike at the local sports bar on the mountain. It’s New Year’s Eve, so naturally everyone in the place is drinking. This is not a new practice for me, but the timing is, and I do feel bad (for my coworkers) that I’m not “as fun” as I would normally be in this environment.

(We’ve reached the point in the season where a number of friendships with coworkers have been developed. I’ve spent the most time around Jake and Melissa due to carpooling with them, but there is no shortage of interesting characters here. The “J-1’s” have arrived as well, mostly coming from Argentina and Peru this season. Thank God for them.)

My decision grants Melissa the opportunity to let loose and enjoy herself. Playing designated driver has its perks—a rare occasion for me to provide a friend with a safe ride home and feel a sense of service simultaneously. She has shown tremendous kindness already this season, both at work and as my primary transportation.

A rare friend in this industry.

We all watch a sporting event on TV and enjoy each other’s company as people rotate in and out from the table. Many a glass is raised. Midnight approaches as we watch the ball drop in New York. And though I feel most alone during the holidays, the company of my new friends helps dissipate that emotion.

“There is a magnet in your heart that will attract true friends. That magnet is unselfishness, thinking of others first; when you learn to live for others, they will live for you.” – Paramahansa Yogananda

December 4, 2018 – South Lake Tahoe, California

“That’s the best shot I’ll have all night.”

That’s what I say to Emma after sinking a stripe into a corner pocket. “Oh, yeah?” she replies as we look at each other and smile. She takes a drink of cheap beer du jour as I line up my next shot. This girl is dangerous. Should I feel lucky, or be worried?

Miss.

Emma’s turn. I take a swig of my beer and replay the events of Thanksgiving in my head.

Decide against traveling to Petaluma to see the family for the holiday. Receive invitation from housing managers to attend Thanksgiving dinner at employee housing; happily accept. Start drinking merlot from the winery in the afternoon. Deem it acceptable.

Emma is the kind of young woman that attracts attention at the Classic Cue. Especially since she can hold her own at billiards. She knocks in a solid, then another.

Scratch.

Attend dinner. Provide a few bottles of merlot for the table. Get to know the housing managers and their friends. Consume, consume, play Farkle. Things start to get foggy. Enter: Emma.

Her error gives me the opportunity to end the game. “Side pocket.” My stripe finds its home, followed by the eight ball. “Good game,” we tell each other as we shake hands. Emma then suggests that we have a seat and talk.

Emma sits next to me as the game continues. Immediately recognizing her beauty and not hesitating due to my decreased inhibitions, I introduce myself and converse with her. At some point, she admits that she is looking for a roommate. It’s just a futon in the living room, but her price is lower than here, and I would be sharing the space with just her, not a ton of other Kirkwood employees.

A very intriguing offer.

We sit and chat for awhile, getting to know each other a little better. We’ve only been roomies for a couple days, but things are going well thus far. She opens up and shares some personal information about herself and her current situation. She expresses her deep gratitude for being here and helping her.

The words feed my soul, providing me with a sense of service for the first time since I left my last host.

“Everyone has a purpose in life and a unique talent to give to others. And when we blend this unique talent with service to others, we experience the ecstasy and exultation of our own spirit, which is the ultimate goal of all goals.” – Kallam Anji Reddy