Commentary—A Nomad’s Gratitude

By the time this year ends, I’ll have covered 35 go-fast boating events on scene. Most of them required commercial airline travel and airport time, its even more-dreadful sidekick.

Yet those trips have become a whole lot shorter than they used to be since I moved to Southwest Florida full-time in January.after leaving Northern California a little more than two years ago.

For a nomadic reporter, finding a place to work wherever you are, such as the cockpit of a running Deep Impact 499 center console—is essential. Photo by Pete Boden copyright Shoot 2 Thrill Pix.

That the Sunshine State grew on me fast was no surprise. I’ve come here often for work since the mid-1990s. I kind of knew the lay of things, so the landing has been soft. I do miss friends and family in the Golden State, as well as its diverse geography, the fine weather and my killer seats for 15 San Francisco Giants games a season. But that’s about it.

Cape Coral, Fla., is home now.

Maybe home-port is a better description than home. Not counting personal travel, I’ve spent close to 200 nights on the road so far this year—sometime in hotels, others in the homes of gracious friends—around the country and beyond its borders.

That’s the nature of doing this job at what I like to think is worthwhile level, but one I also believe can always be more so. You are only as good as your last story. You have to push yourself hard.

So I am a nomad and will be one for the foreseeable future. I won’t lie. I like it. Fact is I’m drawn to it.

Road-life has its dark side, of course. No matter how tough you are or how good at it you become, it’s a grind. It can be disorienting, as well as mentally and emotionally exhausting. It can feel endless and very, very isolating. It is not for everyone.

But it’s always enlightening, and that’s the best part for naturally curious types, as most writers tend to be. Plus, it’s serendipitous. From the Isle of Wight to Cincinnati, I’ve discovered something surprising or met someone fascinating everywhere I’ve been during the past two years. That keeps my world from getting too small and prevents my mindset from becoming too rigid.

Above all, road-life forces you to consider beyond what you think you know, maybe even get a bit uncomfortable now and then. You don’t typically broaden your horizons siting on your old living-room couch. Road-life forces you to grow.

And how could anyone be ungrateful for that?

Happy Thanksgiving.