The Traveling Widower

Tag: Solo-travel

  • Being the Traveling Widower

    December 7th, 2025

    Antarctica was my sixth multi-day trip this past year, so along with a veritable slew of day trips and shorter adventures, I have a pretty good idea now of the direction my life is going. It’s that ‘As Good As It Gets’ thing I write about, that I’m beginning to adjust to. So, now that my brain and body have recovered from the endless journey home from Antarctica, I thought I’d document some of my thoughts on what it’s like to morph from a stable life, shared with your life partner, to something that was unimaginable just a few years ago. A life based without an anchor companion, learning to be comfortable spending a considerable amount of time alone, and surprisingly, finding some fulfillment, direction and even enjoyment in the amazing places I traveled to. Going on two years since Jan passed, I still grieve her loss, and still dwell upon those awful 11 months, but not to the degree that I had at first. So what’s this new life like? The blog pretty much describes it – I grieve the loss of my wife and of my past life, so I’m a widower, and travel is pretty much what keeps me going. The blog title is what I’ve become – the Traveling Widower. I’m planning to copyright the term. Maybe I’ll sell t-shirts and coffee mugs. (No, not really). 

    Solo travel was something I feared at first – my often mentioned fear of being on a ship filled with strangers still persists, but I have learned to cope with that, and actually found myself enjoying meals on this last trip. I recall my first counseling session the day after Jan passed – she said I should expect to have some significant personality changes over time. She was right. It’s been a struggle, but I’m relatively comfortable now joining a group at dinner or lunch, and actively participating in conversations. I guess I cannot really call myself an introvert anymore. 

    What I found interesting on this last trip was the number of discussions I had without bringing up why I was alone, unless someone asked. I still feel weird being by myself, but I’m no longer embarrassed about traveling alone. That’s something new for me. But some people kind of guess when they see the double wedding band on my pinky. I’ll always wear that. 

    The travel part is really what keeps me going – I’m a different person when traveling. My mind is completely focused on the trip, even if I’m just driving somewhere. Photography and the blog keep me occupied in the evenings, either on a ship or a hotel. And the places I’ve been traveling to have been amazing – there were times on all of the trips, where I was just absolutely stunned and speechless by what I was seeing. I simply put the camera down and let it all soak in – I have memories which I will never forget. Antarctica was like that on every day of the trip.

    But there were also moments on each trip where I wished Jan was sharing the moment with me. And at least one time, I felt she was there with me. 

    Returning home from these adventures is still difficult for me – walking into an empty house, with nobody to share my experience with is so incredibly hard to handle. But that’s where my writing and photography helps to fill in some of the emptiness. Busy work is not much of a replacement for companionship, but it keeps my mind occupied. And after a day or two home, I’m already looking towards the next trip, and looking at my bucket list for other trips to schedule. I’ve got permanent happy feet. I’ve scheduled two trips since returning from Antarctica, and already have a packing list for my next trip (Baja). I’m not sure I’ll make it another two months without traveling – I’m guessing I’ll find someplace to go for a while in January. 

    So this is my new life – Bromberg 2.0. Anyone need a coffee mug or t-shirt?

    Disclaimer: No, that is not a real picture, the same goes for the other image of t-shirts and coffee mugs. It’s all AI (thanks Google Gemini). My wife would have looked at this, and then walked away shaking her head. So please, do not ask for a coffee mug or t-shirt. But I will be submitting this for the highly sought after Nobel Peculiar Literature award.

  • When To Start Acting Your Age

    Well, I’m back home alone again, talking to myself (very interesting conversations of course), and one of the topics we (me & myself) discussed was whether I need to start “acting my age” in terms of the adventures I’ve been doing this past year. I am heading into my mid-70’s, I have a number of non-life threatening medical conditions and, worst of all, I live by myself. Jan kept me in check, but was always there when I needed someone to drive me home from a remote location after dislocating my ankle on a winter 14’teener climb, or take me to the E/R when I cut my lip off from a bicycle accident (it was sewn back on without shaving my moustache). I worry about what I’ll do now if I get seriously injured or ill. 

    I’ve always pushed my own physical limitations in the outdoors and sports, a major issue since I’m a klutz. Always have been. My mother eventually got used to taking me to the E/R with a broken or bleeding something. I’m sometimes surprised that I’ve survived this long, given that:

    • I was serious rock climber (5.9 lead),  until I wasn’t (hint: gravity always wins in the end).
    • I also took up ice climbing – a really dangerous sport. Lots of really sharp tools, climbing on a brittle surface. Falling can be very painful
    • I climbed a number of peaks in Colorado in the winter. By myself.
    • I frequently went on peak hikes by myself. What could possibly go wrong? 

    As I’ve aged, I have not completely outgrown these self-destructive tendencies. If there is a more difficult way of doing things, I’m all in. Who needs to eat breakfast before going on the 16 mile round trip jaunt up Half-Dome in Yosemite? I have at least managed to stay in shape through the years, and have taken up normal sports and activities – tennis, pickleball, swimming, and light hiking. Up until Jan was diagnosed. 

    During those 11 months of misery for Jan, I was no longer able to  leave her alone after the second month. No more workouts or tennis.  Our eating habits changed, and our collective alcohol consumption increased. By a lot. Add to that the incredible stress I was under, and I was pretty much a physical and mental wreck when she passed, and for many months afterwards.

    To make matters much worse, I ignored issues with my left knee during this time, and paid dearly for that. I have been sidelined from all racket sports for over a year, which eliminated significant sources of social activities. It’s a good thing I like talking to myself. 

    So here I am, aging rapidly, struggling to stay healthy (and sane), and going off on all this strange adventures. Remarkably, I have done well so far when you consider some of the activities associated with these trips. 

    Ocean Kayaking – every NatGeo trip I’ve been on has the opportunity for open water kayaking. Nothing too serious, but I’ve managed to stay dry so far. Can’t wait for Antarctica.

    Snorkeling – two of the trips have had snorkeling, and in most cases, in cold, rough water. With sea lions and penguins. No sharks. 

    Hiking in the SW – most of the hiking on the NatGeo trips has been pretty mild, other than trying to avoid falling on sharp lava rock in the Galápagos Islands. My hiking trip to the Utah parks was much more strenuous, and I was able to keep up with the group, with one hike up and down at about 8K’. 

    Hiking in Colorado – my first trip included moderate hikes in a number of state parks, and I managed to haul myself up one or two trails at 10k’ in Rocky Mountain National Park. On the most recent trip, I managed to get up all the steep stairs and hike a few miles at over 7500’ at the Seven Falls and meandered through a cavern tour, also at high altitude. And then there was my epic hike/climb of the Manitou Incline. I was proud of myself for getting to the top. Maybe that was one of the adventures I should have passed on, but I’m glad I did it. 

    Hiking in California – Mostly going up and down endless stairs during my Cave-A-Week tour of caverns, but also wandering around in some state parks, and the Donner Pass railroad tunnels at 7K elevation. Moro Rock was not exactly a big deal (300’ elevation gain), but I was in much better shape at high altitude, and pretty much scooted right up to the top. For once, I was actually passing groups.

    So I may be old, but I seem to be holding my own on my adventures this past year. Injury free – that’s a good thing. I work out most every day now which helps a lot. And finally, after 73 years, I’ve developed some sense for self-preservation and avoid things that I know I’m not in shape for. Angels Landing in Zion National Park is one of those, and sadly, so is a return climb of Half Dome. I’ve learned how to deal with my balance issues which gets me through moderate hikes – I have been using hiking sticks for years, especially on peak climbs, but now, they are a necessity. I used just one pole on the Incline climb, sort of as a third leg to keep from leaning backwards.

    None of my planned trips the next two years have overly strenuous activities. The National Geographic trips are all reasonable, and they always offer alternative activities each day. Madagascar has a lot of moderate hikes – no mountains, just 4 or 5 miles along forest trails. I think I can handle that. And all I really need to do on the Kodiak Island trip is not be the slowest person in the group.

    I have been careful in selecting future trips – most of the catalogs rate the level of activities they offer which helps a lot. It pains me a bit, but I no longer consider any of the pure hiking trips that Road Scholars offers. My focus is no longer on reaching the end point of a hike, but enjoying (and photographing) what you see along the trail. There was also an outfit that does a luxury climb up Mount Kilimanjaro. Maybe 15 years ago. Not now. Same for a trek in the Himalayas to Everest Base Camp, something I’ve always dreamed of. 

    So I guess I am acting my age. It’s sort of like learning not to run holding sharp objects – I learned the hard way. I’ll just keep modifying my goals and expectations as I age. Fewer sharp objects = fewer trips to the E/R.

    I need to have another talk with myself now about scheduling a few more trips for 2027. Hopefully, we will be in agreement. I hate arguing with myself. I can be such a pain in the ….

     Peace