Ready. Set. Stop.

It’s quiet. Eerily quiet.

Returning home after a long stretch of touring is a strange sensation. The closest comparison that comes to mind is whiplash. You go from a constant state of motion, with nearly every moment of life pre-scheduled into thirty minute blocks in Google Calendar, with most choices already made in advance, with the same set of clothes, and same set of travel companions…to one silence, one bed (your own), and one dog (your own).

For the last 45 days, I have been in that s...