Last updated 01 Jan 2014

Austin

This post is really old! I've kept it around because it may still be interesting, but many things may be out of date.

In August 2002, it was a little more than a year since I'd left my job at my hometown newspaper. I had just sold my car and left my two jobs as a bartender. Between the tips in my pocket and the money I'd made from selling my car -- a 1996 Neon with a probably cracked head gasket -- I had about $2,000 to my name. I had a bicycle, camping gear, cooking gear, maps, a handheld GPS, a flip phone, two changes of bicycle clothing, and two changes of street clothes. I was in Camden, Maine, and my parents were taking my picture in front of a bicycle shop.

My destination was Austin. My plan was to ride to Savannah, GA -- via Boston, New York, and the eastern shore of Maryland -- and then turn right. I didn't really have much of a plan beyond that, except that I hoped to crash with a friend of a friend when I got to Austin. I heard they had a good bus system. I figured I could sort out a job before my money ran out.

Three weeks and 1,000 miles later, I found myself outside of New Bern, NC, more tan and more fit than I'd ever been or would ever be again. I stopped at a grocery store and picked up food for the evening, tying a bag of apples off the side of my bike. I was planning to camp just south of town, but as I neared a park in the center of town, I found myself surrounded by cyclists setting up camp. They were there for a fund-raising ride, and no, no one would mind if I camped in the park with them instead of riding another 10 miles.

I pitched my tent. I followed them to the free dinner being served for them across the street.

I rode 150 miles -- unencumbered by camping gear and all the rest -- in the fund-raising ride for the next two days.

I made new friends. They invited me to come stay with them for a few days in Chapel Hill.

I lived with them for a month. I borrowed their 1990 Ford Festiva for a year.

I got a job painting a house. I got a job waitressing. I got a job doing desktop publishing. I got a job making web sites.

I got good at JavaScript. I traveled the world talking about it.

I met a girl. We bought a house. We adopted a baby.

I never made it to Austin, though life has taken me there a few days at a time more times than I can count. Finally, in 2013, I even got a job there. Since February, I've made the trek enough times that it's truly become a home away from home. I've stopped using my phone to find my way around. Waitresses recognize me. People tell me about the secret back way to work, but I already know it. I have opinions about breakfast tacos.

It's time to finish the story I started more than a decade ago, which brings me to the point: With much love for Durham, and for the irreplaceable people who have made our lives so full here, we're moving to Austin this spring. At last.