Vagabonding in my own backyard

I’ve been home in Ontario for nearly two months now – it’s the first time since 2007 that I’ve stayed in one place for that long. I expected to be jumping out of my skin with the travel itch by now, but funnily enough, I’m fine. I think I’ve finally figured out what’s keeping my wanderlust under control: I’ve been exploring my own stomping grounds more thoroughly than ever before.

I lived in the Ottawa area for 11 years before college, and for another two years after grad school. I thought I knew it pretty well. Turns out, I didn’t know nearly as much as I thought.

A couple of things have prompted my new explorations. For one, my mom has moved out of the city, to an isolated village in a nearby county. Just the act of driving between Ottawa and her home every couple of weeks, along backroads that I never knew existed, has opened my eyes to a new side of the region. Every time I hit the road, I spot another old stone church being reclaimed by the woods, another homegrown museum about rural life, another family fruit stand by the side of the highway.

In between those drives, I’ve been working on a series of “daytripping” stories for the local paper – travel stories about attractions within the region. That work, like my regular country drives, has helped to teach me just how little I know about my city. I’ve learned about the thriving “buy local” movement in an impoverished northern county; I’ve gone whitewater rafting on the last “free” stretch of the Ottawa River, and learned that the rest of it has been harnessed for hydroelectric projects; I’ve hiked, paddled, and driven through wilderness areas that I never bothered to explore when I was in high school.

I’d always thought of my hometown as a boring place, a place to be escaped from. Turns out, I just wasn’t looking closely enough. I’ll look forward to learning even more over the next two months – and, when I hit the road again, I’ll be sure to remember this lesson in my “real” travels, too.