Adventure vs Comfort

Adventure vs stability, novelty vs routine…where are you most comfortable on that spectrum? I wrote a while ago about identifying my core values in retirement – purpose, connectedness and adventure. The first two are pretty universal, but the third one is more individual. Some people thrive on change, while others prefer the comfort of routine and stability. I have a greater need for novelty than Ray does, but this week we met a couple who are pretty far along the adventure side of the spectrum.

We hosted a Dutch couple for two nights through Warm Showers. Like Talgat – our visitor from Kazakhstan – they’ve given up their worldly possessions and are on a multi-year cycling trip around the world. Ben is about my age and Linda is a couple decades younger. They weren’t married for long before they set out to cycle 100,000 kilometres around the world. They’ve been on the road for two years so far, with covid throwing a wrench or two into their plans, and they plan to be away for up to eight more years before returning to The Netherlands. They stay with Warm Showers hosts when they can, but otherwise they knock on doors and ask if they can camp in a stranger’s yard or garage for the night. So far they’ve always managed to find somewhere to stay and have met many locals that way, but I can’t say I envy their lifestyle. Waking up each morning not knowing where you’ll sleep that night, and living out of backpacks for years on end has no appeal to me. I also wouldn’t be comfortable relying on others for my accommodation and, as an introvert, the idea of spending almost every evening meeting new people gives me the heebie jeebies. Bill and Lorrie’s adventure in their camper van is much more my speed…living simply, experiencing new things, meeting new people, but also a familiar place to lay your head at night.

After our visitors left, Ray departed on his own mini cycling adventure. He rode from Brighton to Campbellford, hauling his camping gear behind him in his trailer “Bob”. He stayed in Ferris Provincial Park for the night, then cycled home the next day. It was a shake-down cycle for a multi-day trip he wants to do later this summer.

What he learned is that the Northumberland Hills are, in fact, very hilly, and that forgetting your dinner at home is very disappointing. Ray is a planner. He makes lists and organizes his gear for days in advance. Despite that high level of organization, the ingredients that he’d neatly set aside in the pantry for his camp-out dinner did not make it from the pantry shelf into his pack. He ended up having his breakfast for dinner and ate at McDonald’s the next morning (yes, Ray ate at McDonald’s).

He cycled 130 kilometres over the two days and arrived home hot, tired and a bit uncertain about whether long-distance cycling is his thing. After a shower, a meal and a good night’s sleep, he seems to still be intent on trying a longer, albeit less hilly, route later this summer.

The question of exploring new places versus enjoying the comfort of home also involves assessing the trade-off between meeting new people and being away from people you care about. It’s a balancing act many people struggle with in retirement. Do you downsize and move to a small town or a country with a warmer climate if it means giving up the community you’ve spent so many years fostering? I’ve moved to a different country twice in my life without a second thought, and certainly never regretted it, but my willingness to do that has declined as I age. The desire to meet new people and experience new places generally gets trumped by wanting to spend time with the people we’ve already met, and travel to places where we can spend time with those people.

Speaking of old friends, a few of ours are hitting hallmark birthdays this month. Ric, who Ray has known his whole life, is one of them, and we had a lovely time celebrating his 65th. It’s strange to think of my grandmother, who died at 65, and compare her to our 65-year old friends now. I remember her as an old lady who rarely left the house and sat in front of the TV watching daytime soaps while knitting and chain smoking (she was also – perhaps surprisingly given that description – the best grandma ever). Our 60-something friends are fit and vibrant and fun and they make the 60s appear a fine age to be.