Highlights and Lowlights of 2022.

We embarked on one of the most breathtaking and perilous walks in the Western Ghats at the conclusion of the monsoon season in 2022.

After passing through an ancient woodland full of butterflies, the path suddenly became treacherous. We had to climb mossy rocks that were gushing water. Trying to regain my footing, I grabbed onto stray branches as we walked up streams that were still flowing. I slipped many times with scarcely a dry spot, landing on my knees and butt at different moments.

We eventually reached our target, bruised and battered, a magnificent waterfall that poured many meters down a slope and formed a welcoming pool of pure spring water below!

Spending a month on the breathtaking and isolated island of Robinson Crusoe

I was thrilled—and, to be quite honest, anxious—to get the chance to spend a month on Robinson Crusoe, a secluded island located several hundred kilometers off the coast of Chile, after spending two years cooped up during the epidemic.

I developed relationships with the lovely locals and other Work for Humankind participants during my more than five weeks on the island. We learned about the archipelago’s amazing biodiversity—more varied than the Galapagos!—saw species extinction up close, and spent time with the rare Juan Fernandez Fur Seals in the Pacific. Something deep inside me was aroused by that encounter, and I still struggle to put it into words.

Hanging up my nomadic boots

I would have laughed if someone had said before 2020 that this would be the high point of my year. However, notice how the roles have been reversed!

I’ve long avoided the problem of striking a balance between long-term travel and environmental damage, but I’ve always felt that I was destined for the road. I had a really odd period following my experience on Robinson Crusoe. The time was marked by a deep melancholy over the commercialization of travel, a moderate despair, and climate fear. After ten years of doing the same thing, I felt as though I could no longer see myself doing it in the future.

I had already learned from the epidemic that being near nature may bring some level of satisfaction. While it was a result of circumstance, it is now a result of choice.

Although I still have a lot of work to do, I’m pleasantly surprised to say that after seven years of traveling, I’m no longer living a nomadic lifestyle.

Healing in the Uttarakhand Himalayas

I unwillingly took a shared cab to Sarmoli, in the Uttarakhand Kumaon Himalayas, a region that has long seemed like home, during that period of personal anguish this year.

Despite being so near to my childhood home, those mountains provided me with the time, distance, and independence I needed to get out of my melancholy.

More than that, though, I was very appreciative of the kindness, acceptance, camaraderie, and tenacity of the local mountain community, who have supported me and my methods since our paths first crossed in 2016.

E-biking across the Swiss Alps

Over the past several years, I’ve had the good fortune to visit the Alps in Slovenia, Austria, and Switzerland. However, in 2022, Switzerland Tourism asked my partner and I to try out their newest “Swisstainable” product, which is a week-long, self-guided e-bike tour across Central Switzerland’s Alpine environment.

We rode through classic Swiss communities, climbed some of the country’s highest Alpine passes, and spent a glorious week in the untamed karst mountains of Switzerland. Even in the countryside, the Swiss aren’t the nicest people, but the clear blue lakes, foggy summits, historic cathedrals, rushing rivers and streams, and meadows covered in wildflowers made for an amazing trip.

Experiencing the midnight sun in the Arctic

Witnessing the midnight sun phenomena in the Arctic is one of the things that can’t be described or captured in pictures.

We set off on a (very long!) train excursion to traverse 8000+ kilometers, traveling via Switzerland, Germany, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, the North Sea, and the Arctic Circle, all while attempting to minimize our flying footprint.

We were astounded by Vaeroy, one of the smaller Lofoten Islands, but it was also rather taxing. We slept in a lovely Norwegian couple’s Airbnb, prepared midnight dinners with dazzling light streaming in through the windows, went hiking at 11 p.m. beneath a pink sunset sky, rode our bikes until 1:00 a.m. simply because we could, and slept with eye masks on.