and up to my ears in rational choice theory and other political science nonsense (which I truly thought at the time was my calling in life), my dad suggested a trip to a national park of my choice for spring break, just the two of us. When I was in my first year of grad school in D.C. The American Southwest’s wide-open spaces, deep experiences of quiet and stillness, and jaw-dropping vistas are just the ticket. Despite loving our urban trappings and extolling the virtues of our “car-free, tiny-apartment, organic-produce lifestyle ” loudly and proudly, the truth of the matter is that finding peace and rest is so elusive. We’ve both visited the Grand Canyon separately, and Alex hiked Utah’s Mighty Five with his mom (check out our guide here ) but these brief trips really just made us want to go back– soon and often.Īs lifelong East Coast folks, we’re so accustomed to chaos : the traffic, the hustle-and-bustle, the frenetic pace of the cities we love, the exhaustion of the rat race we feel like we were funneled into without even noticing. The American Southwest is a part of our country that we yearn to get to know better. Written in memory of my goofy, loving, and one-of-a-kind dad, 1955-2019.
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