Walking through an unfamiliar passage, harder and harder to find after these many weeks venturing through the city, I was struck immobile by a flashback.  Fifteen years prior, my now ex-wife and I wandered into Edwards after I had a job interview in Vail, had a beer at E-town.  Despite visiting the Valley for many years prior and driving past Edwards on trips to the Front Range from Telluride and Aspen, I had no concept that the town existed.  It was a little jewel, an unexpected refuge from the vicissitudes of the city-based professional life that I yearned to leave behind.  Just like this Amsterdam alley, it begged for exploration, for mining of experiences.

Now, I have made Edwards my home for fifteen years, approximately fourteen more than anticipated, that arrival being a time in my life where the concept of rest and stasis was decidedly anathema.  It has been a nest and a trap, a joy and a curse, a source of never-ending comfort and a jumpstart for wanderlust.  Edwards has seen the birth of my special lady, the dissolution of my marriage, the normal flux of friends in a mountain town, some hair-raising adventures, the founding of a law firm, bits of relaxation, and tons of restlessness.

It is with that unsettled spirit that I set off for Europe, leaving a troubled heart and mind behind and welcoming the uncertainty that greeted me on the opposite shore.  I believed that I needed a great distance from my home to see it more clearly and that has proved to be true.  It has as much charm as any beloved capital city, not to mention an uncommon beauty that is harder to see on the daily commute.

I believed that I needed concentrated time with my brother and his family and that has proved to be true.  The simple joy of an impromptu weeknight dinner with the kids all laughing and my parents beaming and my brother and I in discussion is a bright light that will stick with me.  It is one thing to visit, another to run into family on the street in a foreign city in unexpected fashion.

I believed that I needed to immerse myself in those endeavors that were not possible at home.  Wandering through art museums, walking centuries-old paths, feeling the history in my soul, these have added large islands to the ocean of my life.  To be full gas into the wind at the head of a Dutch peloton astride a carbon racefiets, feeling the power of the collective, missing a wheel and being blown out the back, these have only inflamed my already burning love of bikes.

I believed that I needed to be alone, to spend time with my thoughts, to get outside of my comfort zone and routine.  Homesick for the first time in my life, I am wavering on how much is too much time by myself.  I am set to depart for two weeks alone in Finland and the Baltics and my usual lust for adventure is replaced by apprehension.  I want to share these new views.  It is great to be solo, but I spend a lot of time in my own mind, have done a lot of heavy lifting all by myself, perhaps I am just burnt out of doing it all alone.

I believed that I needed to find a new community, everything feeling a little too rote and stagnant.  Despite finding great running and biking pals here, Amsterdam is not my home, these links are temporary and therefore fragile.  I have been welcomed into multiple Valley scenes, an easy and lasting rapport that I had heretofore taken for granted.  Instead of appreciation, I chose exile and now I see the folly of my impatience.

I will return to Edwards sooner or later, ready to give the entire Valley the proverbial squeeze that accompanies a homecoming.