Tiny Morsels of Adventure

Another ongoing collateral casualty of COVID is the American vacation. Not just the traditional two- weeks-a-year off from work but the shorter three- and four-day holiday weekend breaks and summer weekends at the lakeside cottage, mountain cabin or beach bungalow.

Airlines, cruise lines, hotels and restaurants have all taken the hit and will no doubt take years to recover financially, if they ever do completely recover.

But that doesn’t mean adventure is dead. Two big American trends have organically sprung up to feed our unquenchable hunger for the wonder. They started as ideas, evolved into fads, and have now risen to the level of obsession.

You read about them on blogs, hear or see them on podcasts and videos, and notice their photos on social media. And lately, they’ve been showing up in my day and night dreams. One is camping and I’ll have more to say about that in future posts. The second is a new one: the Microadventure.

We need a daily dose of something new, freshness and variety to sustain our equilibrium and just to maintain our sanity. We need the outdoors, vistas of nature, a glimpse of life outside our own to keep us from sinking into ourselves in the unhealthiest of ways.

How do we Microadventure? (Yes, it’s a noun and also a verb–if you want it to be).

There are whole lists of activities restless and intrepid questers have invented to fill the description, all at the click of a mouse, and any of which can be customized to individual quirks or desires.

You can camp in your own backyard, cook something different or invent a cocktail, try a sport or activity you’ve never attempted, take a class, learn something new. You can be the star of your own video, you can become a one-woman band.

I think that one force filling this quest is the desire to counteract the passivity of the media that bombard our waking lives. Older generations—such as my own—might have been content to let a corporate programmer decide what TV shows to watch and when we could enjoy them; what playlist of limited songs we could hear on the radio; what news we’d consume and what to think about it.

But younger generations have become individual creators as well as consumers of all forms of media-on-demand, and the frustrations of a pandemic aren’t about to change that. It’s once instance where the older generation can learn from the young:

We can’t let others decide what our adventures should be or how to fill the hunger for them. We can’t be content to wait patiently for the industries to open up again and serve our passions. We have to be proactive.

One way to do that is to create your own Microadventure—an experience that answers a desire for adventure in small bites, little slivers of excitement and joy lasting anywhere from an hour to overnight to perhaps a weekend. All it requires is to dig deep into our imaginations.

One of the ways I like to have a Microadventure is to “visit” a familiar locale—near home-base, which the COVID mandates are telling us to do anyway—and see it all through new eyes. The word “staycation” has been over-used, but it amounts to savoring your hometown as if you were a first-time tourist.

What would you notice that you’d grown so used to you forgot it was there? What have you avoided exploring because it seemed too cheesy, too “touristy?” What kinds of places, activities, culture and landmarks would you show visitors to illustrate the unique character of your immediate surroundings? Where would you take them to eat? What historic landmarks would you point out? How would you help them experience the true character of the day-to-day existence there?

And I’m not only talking about those who already call a tourist mecca such as New York or Washington D.C. home. I mean everyone, anyone, in any town or burg or rural outpost in Anywhere, USA.

I’ve done this many times in my own region—currently Binghamton in upstate New York. I pretend to be a tour guide as I take a leisurely stroll or short car trip and identify those sites and unique places I usually take for granted.

It’s a great excuse to “get lost,” and  let your mind wander as you meander. Notice everything, and try to describe it, all the little things that suddenly become apparent when you view them through a stranger’s eyes. Take photos, make videos, record sounds, sketch a few scenes on a sketchpad. Jot down your impressions and any new discoveries or surprises. Write a poem about what you see.

Notice everything: sights, smells, sounds, colors.

Say “hi” to someone you don’t know and if they seem friendly, ask them a question that a newcomer might ask (but be careful, they might want to know where you’re from!). Ask them if you can snap their picture. Ask them to snap yours (beats a selfie every time).

Maybe you can take a form of transportation you’re not used to: walk, if you’re used to driving. Take local public transit. Ride a bike. Visit a park or find walking paths or hiking trails nearby. If you want to do a little prep work, look up your local history and find historic markers and landmarks.

Visit shops that you may never have set foot in, or ones that are familiar old friends. Visit art galleries or a museum. Collect souvenirs. Buy a trinket or a sweet—there’s a from-scratch fudge shop just a couple towns away from me…my biggest problem is deciding which flavors to indulge my sweet tooth.

Of course, your adventure isn’t complete until you find a place to enjoy a meal. Micro-breweries and wineries are great choices. You can order a “flight” and sample the varieties. Maybe there’s an ethnic restaurant or type of food you haven’t tried or don’t get enough of. How about an outdoor café if the weather permits? Get a good table. Pretend you’re a food critic and without being too obvious or too critical write some notes about the ambience, the servers, the menu, the food.

Start a friendly conversation with the servers (if they aren’t too busy) or other customers. Yes—talk to strangers. Snap some photos. If you want to, you can review the place later on websites. Leave a bigger than usual tip. Maybe go to a different place for dessert and coffee.

When your day of being a tourist is done, get your photos, sketches, and souvenirs (like coasters, postcards, placemats etc.) and create a trip scrapbook or memory book with you recollections.

You can have this Microadventure in any season, with others or solo. It’s a small slice of satisfaction that can feel rejuvenating. If you let it.

Need further inspiration? Here are a few other Microadventure ideas:

• Have a picnic—in any season
• Go antique browsing—or buying. Flea markets and rummage sales are good bets.
• Cook a meal with others—you can do it outside or inside somewhere with enough space to “social-distance”
• Go to a local spa and get pampered
• Go fishing, or hiking or try a new sporting activity that interests you—even if you’re a rank beginner like I am
• Go Geo-caching—that’s a modern form of treasure-hunting using GPS satellite coordinates to find hidden stashes. There are millions of geocaching sites and you can check them out online
• Find out when a local astronomy group meets to stargaze and join them—they’re usually friendly and welcome newcomers
• Build a bonfire and have a sing-along
• Try something artistic or crafty—there’s an artists’ print shop nearby I plan to visit—tailgate!
• Go root for a local or school sports team, even if it isn’t a sport you usually watch
• If you want to extend your fun, find a local hotel or B&B and stay overnight, even if you’re only a few blocks or a couple of miles from home. Enjoying breakfast or brunch the next morning is a bonus