In college I moved to a different apartment every year. To save money I would always live a little farther from campus than most people. Every year there was a lengthy morning walk to campus. The repetition bred familiarity in the walk. My sophomore year of college I lived south of downtown in a small house with 3 of my friends, and we all had our own preferred route to campus.

When I would leave the house I would head west on W Irvin Ave for a half block and then head north on Fraser street towards what Strava calls, Mt. Fraser; A two or three block hill that requires all of your breath to summit. After summiting, I would find a gentle downward slope alongside Memorial Field–a sinkhole turned high school sports complex. The sidewalk constructed from engraved bricks displays donor names. My high school American History teacher dedicated a brick to Alexis de Tocqueville; his favorite French diplomat. I found it a few times but never consistently. After the bricks and the football field, I’d continue north on Fraser, past brand new mini Target, Hyatt, and H&M. If I had time, I’d stop at McLanahan’s for a coffee, but that took me off route. I’d cross the street and continue north on Fraser. After a block or two I’d meet the monstrosity that is the Hammond Building, the horrible engineering building that looks like a tipped over skyscraper from the 1960’s. Fraser ceases to exist and then I’d take a stairwell under the Hammond Building to campus.

My roommate and I would argue over whose route was best and we wouldn’t even walk together when we would leave for a class at the same time. The repetition bred familiarity, and the familiarity became special.

My Junior and Senior year I had similar walks with similar amounts of detail stored into my brain. Every time I walk in those areas they remind me of that time in my life. It’s a nostalgia trigger. Now, in Butte, MT, every day when I go to work, I leave out of the back of my building and take the same streets and desired paths to my host site. In a fairly new and foreign place that doesn’t offer a lot of familiarity, I’ll always have the walk to work. I’ll remember the houses, the cracks in the sidewalks, and the quirky stop sign organization of the intersections forever.