Everyone told me I was crazy for wanting to travel with a dog. If I had thought traveling alone was hard, how was it going to be when I had a pet? How often would I stop? Where was I going to stay? What if I couldn’t find anything dog-friendly?The questions were endless, but I was determined.

I knew America was big. A sideways glance at a map can show it’s one of the largest countries in the world. I never expected this to be a small journey, but there’s one lesson I’ve picked up that has put a lot of things into perspective for me: When it comes to traveling, there’s a big difference between traveling for pleasure and traveling for business.

Imagine a valley tucked inside of the mountains that stretches as far as your eyes can see. Inside that valley, everywhere you look, thin trails of water stream down rocky cliffsides. As your eyes wander across those rocks, they find a dome that’s cut in half, facing one of the largest rock walls on the planet. Welcome to Yosemite Valley

No matter where I go in life, a part of me will always remain in Monterey, California.After Josh and I finished up in San Francisco, we made our way down the 101 to my second hometown.I first came here in 2007 after I’d graduated Yosemite High School. When I finished California State University Monterey Bay in 2011, I couldn’t leave.

Santa Cruz lays at the tip of the Monterey Bay, hidden inside of the Santa Cruz Redwood Mountains. Known for its beachy-meets-mountain feel, tourists come here for a mixture of both relaxation and adrenaline.

Eager to continue on with our sense of mystery, Josh and I headed out to the Santa Cruz Mystery Spot.

There, our perception of the natural changed forever.

Most people associate San Francisco with the vast array of skyscrapers and the iconic Golden Gate Bridge. Tucked into the hills just north of the city center, however, lies a forest better known as Muir Woods. Located inside of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, visitors travel from all corners of the globe to catch glimpses of the redwoods harbored in its depths.

The day I left for New Zealand, I woke to the sound of my mother vomiting.

My eyes snapped open.

Oh no… She won’t be able to see me off at the airport with Dad!

I detangled myself from my sheets and sprinted into the living room.

That problem intensified when I found Dad vomiting over the sink, as my mom had claimed the bathroom.

The night I changed my life, I turned out all the lights. I embraced the darkness that fought to keep me bound in chains, circled candles around me, and summoned forth enough light to be bathed, but not enough to be consumed. I sat with a beating heart, my mind alight with an unfathomable number of questions. How can I make a change to my life? How can I make the best of this broken heart? Why can’t I seem to find any happiness?