Walking Downhill

It began about ten days ago, when we started walking downhill from Annapurna Base Camp.  As we hiked through Himalayan villages, caught our last close glimpses of their ice-shrouded guardians, and navigated our final ridges, we both knew that we had started down a long but inevitable path back. First back to Pokhara, then Kathmandu, then the airport and the strange limbo of international transit, finally arriving again on US soil after nearly eleven months away. It was then, during those first steps downhill, that we began to feel a sense of ending.

It's strange and hard to explain, ending.  This year we've seen amazing things, met great (and horrible) people, had adventures, gotten lost, gotten found, drank too much wine then not nearly enough, climbed things, lost things, found things, and have if anything grown to love and appreciate each other all the more for having experienced it all together.  And we don't really want it to end when we board our flight home tomorrow.

At the same time we miss everyone back home. This year we've really missed friends, family, and being part of life events and celebrations, big (congrats, Emily!) or small (go Pats!).  We also miss decent sandwiches, good beer, laundry machines, BBQ, paychecks, and the comfort of sleeping in the same place more than a few nights at a stretch.  But we don't miss the office or vacation parceled out a few days at a time.  

So it's going to be a balancing act.  Between restarting careers we both enjoy and carving out a life that lets us keep adventuring.  Between the comforts of home and the challenge of exploring. We're looking forward to the next stage, and to seeing all of you again and sharing a year's worth of stories over a beer or three.  Just as soon as we survive our three-flight, four-nation, 45-hour trip home.  See you Tuesday.