One evening, circa 2011, I sat over dinner with my future wife in our small and sweaty Houston, TX rented bungalow. I was and still am an occasional cheap bastard, so the air conditioning was almost certainly set to engage on an “as-needed” basis, far from anything resembling comfort. The concept of financial independence wasn’t on the radar.

During downtime at work—I told you I was distracted—I was scouring numerous free WordPress blogs documenting the travels of zealous climbing dirtbags. They were camping and climbing and making whatever money they needed along the way. People were even starting to live and travel in vans, something I associated with sixties and seventies surfer culture. I wanted that life.

At this point in my late twenties, I was maybe barely a year into my career as a geologist in the oil and gas industry. But I could see the writing on the wall—this would not and could not be my career for the next 35-40 years. In fact, at that moment, I couldn’t see myself lasting my target three to five years until I expected to return to school for a career in academia. And there was a new problem: I’d kind of grown obsessed with this new hobby of rock climbing.

Twelve years later, I finally found a very different path to a life of freedom, if such a thing even exists. After three years of financial independence, what follows are some key lessons I’ve learned along the way.

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