When you picture a solo trip, you might see imagery of trains traveling through the European countryside or backpacking in East Asia.
This kind of travel isn’t always attainable, as much as you might want to join the ranks of adventurers who have changed their lives through soul-searching trips alone to faraway countries. Maybe your budget only allows for a once-a-year trip, and to be honest, it’s nice to split travel costs with someone else.
As an introvert and me-time kind of person, though, I totally advocate for solo travel.
I just think we need to expand our interpretations of what that means, because short, local trips can do just as much for our mindsets as a month abroad in Thailand.
Sure, you may not be experiencing as broad a swath of the world in terms of people, places, and culture. But I’m of the opinion that it doesn’t matter where you are if you’re not in the right mindset; how you choose to experience something is often more important than the “where”(i.e. try to limit your phone time.)
For example:
A few days ago, I drove four and a half hours north of Boston to Vermont for an energy reset via my favorite winter activity: skiing.
Jay Peak Resort is about an 11-mile drive from the Canadian border, so close that as I approached the resort I was blessed with the dulcet tones of a French-Canadian pop radio station. The airwaves treated my ears to some cool French jams as well as Justin Bieber.
Why the hell did I drive all the way to Jay Peak?
Great question. I got a new Helly Hansen ski jacket for Christmas, which came with a free ski day at one of the resorts the brand has partnered with around the country. Jay Peak wasn’t the closest such resort in the northeast, but it was the largest, and with all the snow winter storm Skylar had just dumped on New England I was in the market for an epic powder day.
So, yes. Will drive 9 hours in 1 day for a free ski pass somewhere I’ve never been before.
And it was truly epic.
With the snowy drive up and needing to swap out my voucher for a ticket at Customer Service, I didn’t get on the mountain until about noon. I hadn’t skied by myself in 6 years, and I wasn’t really sure where to start. Stretching out my ski legs, I took a random stab at the map and whooshed my way down my first slope – tentatively at first, afraid of the giant mounds of powder I was so unused to.
As I made my way down the first run, though, my hesitation diminished and I felt my smile growing wider. These powdery mogul runs were fun, and the snow was still coming down in droves. My eyelashes sparkled with it, my ski jacket crackled with it, and flakes coated my braid within minutes.
The signs at Jay Peak were all half in English, half French, which I found adorable. Red stop signs warned me before dropping into the glades that the resort is known for to “Arrêt!” Experts only.
Half an hour in, thighs burning and breathing heavily, I felt the long drive had been more than worth it.
And as I hopped back in my car later that afternoon, my Subaru filling up with the sounds of rapid Canadian-French I could barely understand, my smile was still there. I had 4 and a half more hours of driving ahead of me, but I also had maple candy and Diet Coke in the passenger seat and endless powder runs replaying in my head to keep me going.
As I’ve said before: always do the thing. Even if it’s solo.