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Balancing Adventure and Writing on the Road

Balancing adventure and writing on the road is, honestly, a lot harder than I expected. When I started this fifty-state surfing journey, I had this romantic idea of mornings spent surfing and afternoons typing away at some cozy little café. Turns out, the reality is way messier. Adventure has a way of completely taking over if you let it, and writing, well… writing demands its own kind of discipline.

Let’s start with the obvious: surfing is exhausting. It’s not just the physical part, though that’s a big one—it’s the planning, the driving, and the endless search for the right wave. Some days, I’d get up at dawn, surf for hours, and by the time I got back to my car, all I wanted to do was crash. Sitting down to write after a day like that? Let’s just say my brain didn’t always cooperate.

But here’s the thing: the writing matters just as much as the surfing. This whole journey isn’t just about chasing waves; it’s about sharing the experience. And if I don’t make the time to capture those moments when they’re fresh, they lose their spark. So, I had to figure out how to balance the two without letting one completely eclipse the other.

The first thing I learned is that you have to carve out dedicated time for writing—like, non-negotiable, sacred time. For me, that usually means early mornings. I’m not naturally a morning person, but there’s something about waking up before the world gets busy that makes it easier to focus. I’d brew some coffee, set up wherever I was—sometimes in a motel room, sometimes at a picnic table—and just start typing. It didn’t always flow, but showing up was half the battle.

Another thing that helped? Letting go of the idea that every piece of writing has to be polished. When you’re on the road, you don’t have the luxury of endless editing sessions. Sometimes, you just have to get the words down—messy, unfiltered, and real. There were days I wrote entire entries on my phone because it was the only tool I had in the moment. But that’s okay. The point is to capture the essence of the experience while it’s still fresh in your mind. You can always clean it up later.

I also realized that balance doesn’t mean equal time. Some days, the waves take priority. Like, if there’s a perfect swell rolling through or a rare weather window, you have to seize the moment. But on those days, I’d remind myself to jot down quick notes—little snapshots of what happened, how it felt, who I met. Even if I didn’t have the energy for a full entry, those notes became lifesavers when I sat down to write later.

And then there are the days when the adventure slows down—when you’re stuck in a small town waiting for the weather to clear, or when your body just needs a break. Those are prime writing days. I’d use that downtime to catch up, reflect, and dive deeper into the stories I wanted to tell. It’s a rhythm, you know? Some days are for living the story; others are for writing it.

One of the hardest parts was learning to be okay with imperfection. When you’re on the road, things rarely go as planned. Wi-Fi cuts out, schedules shift, and sometimes you just don’t have the energy to write the way you want to. But I’ve learned that the beauty of writing about adventure is in its rawness. It’s not about presenting a perfect narrative; it’s about capturing the highs and lows, the chaos and the magic.

The road itself can be surprisingly inspiring, too. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been driving between surf spots, surrounded by these incredible landscapes, and had ideas just start pouring in. I’d pull over, grab my notebook, and scribble down whatever came to mind. It’s like the motion of traveling stirs something creative inside you—like your brain finally has space to wander.

What really keeps me grounded, though, is remembering why I’m doing this in the first place. Writing isn’t just a way to document the journey—it’s part of the adventure. It’s how I process everything, how I find meaning in the chaos. Without it, the experience would feel incomplete.

So, yeah, balancing adventure and writing isn’t easy. It takes discipline, flexibility, and a willingness to embrace the messy parts. But the more I lean into it, the more I realize that the two aren’t separate—they’re intertwined. The adventure fuels the writing, and the writing gives the adventure depth. And honestly, that’s what makes this whole journey so worth it.

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