Tell me how your nomadic life style started.

I'm an army brat so we moved around a lot growing up. My parents are from different countries and emigrated to a third one after leaving the army, so I've only ever really known life as a foreigner or migrant. I always wanted to live somewhere else so made it a goal to migrate again after high school and made an international jump a couple more times till I realized it didn't work well with being in a traditional relationship, so I gave up on those and refocused on my own thing. That's when I started traveling a lot more and longer, in my 30s. Still a lifelong migrant worker, wouldn't know how to live any other way.
 
I was born a ramblin' man. Nobody in my blood family is or was in the military, though. I don't know if I have any Roma heritage, since my grandma changed my family's name, and then changed her name, but when I found out what the original name was, I became very sentimental about Roma culture.
My parent was very into hippie culture, and was in the paper for their folk art. They also drew gorgeous Dali-esque Surrealism.
 
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Graduating HS early to high-tail across the country still as a minor, broke & outdoors, happy to be anywhere but 'home!' The universe has such a multitude of crazy corners to go explore. After seeing so many scenarios fall to festering disfunction, the idea of keepin' it movin', groovin', and ever-adapting is a means I hold onto
How about you??
 
imaginarymax said:
Graduating HS early to high-tail across the country still as a minor, broke & outdoors, happy to be anywhere but 'home!' The universe has such a multitude of crazy corners to go explore. After seeing so many scenarios fall to festering disfunction, the idea of keepin' it movin', groovin', and ever-adapting is a means I hold onto
How about you?
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Moving and grooving lol yeah I'm definitely trying to live by that. Haven't started just yet I'm still gathering my gear so I can start my journey trainhopping, but shouldn't be too much longer before I'm on the road 🙏
 
back in the late 80's / early 90's the 'hippie traveller' scene was massive in the UK and later Europe - it seemed like everyone I knew wanted to 'get a van and fuck off' - so eventually I did...
 
I was tired of paying rent just to have a place to keep my things and sleep. Felt like a stagnant lifestyle that wasn’t for me. I was always outside and swimming in lakes constantly. During Covid I decided to say fuck it and got a van. Was the best thing for me up u til recently when it broke down and I had to sell it. Been kinda bouncing around living outta my pack.
 
I have been homeless off and on since my 20s and just decided that being able to travel around and almost do what I want is better than being tied down to anything in one place. I am soon to be going further west maybe out to AZ or NM if everything goes as planned
 
i was 19 and working as a night stocker at Safeway. Finally i got sick of working overnight and applied to the French Foreign Legion and Virginia Military Institute. Then caught a bus to the DC area to tour the VMI campus and maybe catch a flight to France. I ended up diverting to DC instead and just explored DC and stayed at the old hostel near K st.
 
I started hitchhiking when I was maybe 13-14 years old. Mostly to get around, and go up and down the Oregon coast (I grew up 2 miles from the beach out there.) when I was a little kid, I read these books called the boxcar children (story of orphans who lived in a boxcar) and ever since I wanted to hop a train and travel. Lol I did that in my early-mid 20s. Retired it all at 28 but stayed with seasonal work in Alaska. I'm now 37, about to graduate trade school, and looking to hit the road again or find a series of seasonal work to do for a while. Ordinary life is really hard after all that. It's difficult to relate to anyone, even more difficult to accept a 9-5 with maybe 2 weeks vacation time a year if you're lucky. Life is short, most everyone i love is dead and gone, and I don't want to waste my life working a thankless job just to barely scrape on by.
 
Mine started out at 14, leaving home because my mother had her (I forgot which number) boyfriend that was abusive towards the entire house. Gave my mother the option, as I already was out of school working full time, "If his cars here when I get off, I'm never coming back" was the last thing I said to her until I was 23. Said it to her right after he started ww1792 at the house, all because I didn't want to cash my check on my lunch, to run home, and give him a dollar to get a bottle of vodka. Over a dollar. I even told him that day to come up to my job, and I'd give him more. Anyways, that's how I got started. I ended up laying some roots at 29, almost getting married, tried for a family, had a place, and cars, and life was great. Until one day it wasn't, and I realized that worst thing for me was her, and I was the worst thing for her. Life wasn't great, we always fought, and the Apt had black mold, the cars were falling apart, and I turned to drinking and dope again while she went back on dope. We decided to get clean, and hit the road again. We both traveled prior, and wanted to again. So we hit the road. NEVER hit the road with someone you hate, that you're about to withdrawal with. I ended up leaving her in the Daniel Boone National Forest, at a primitive camping spot. I left her the car, and everything else except for what I could fit inside of my backpack that was mine, told her I'd see her in hell, and the last thing she said to me before leaving was "You'll be back, you need me". I never went back, and her family ended up sending her money for her to get home in Texas. I ended up back in Michigan, where I'm about to leave again.
 
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