When the author mentioned the joy brought on by having that "digital retreat" it reminded me of my cross country motorcycle trip this past March. I rode from Boston to Chicago to Seattle to San Francisco to Utah and Colorado and then back to Boston in 3 weeks. If you do the math, I think it averaged out to like 450 miles a day on a motorcycle. Which if you've ridden you'd know is a shit ton of riding back-to-back. So while I brought along my laptop and my Nintendo Switch, I ended up not touching them because as soon as I got to the hotel I'd usually pass right out.
That whole trip as a result was rather fantastic. Every day was just punctuated by the changing sights and sounds around me, as well as the physical challenge of the amount of riding every day.
That is, except for my phone, which was the ever-present companion on my journey. See, I didn't have GPS, instead opting to strap my phone to the handlebar with a little mount and use it with Google Maps to navigate. At one point, 3 or 4 days into the ride, somewhere in Wisconsin or Minnesota, I saw my dad (who I was riding with for half the trip), take a photo with a little camera he had stashed in a tank bag. I was jealous, "Aw man, I can't take pictures till we stop." But surely it'd be inane to take my $1,000 iPhone X out of it's secure mount and hold it one-handed while riding at highway speeds on a motorcycle just to take some pictures. I'm sorry to say that that idea became less and less inane as the days went on and I was eventually pulling the phone out of its harness god knows how many times a day while riding.
At this point you're likely thinking, so when did you drop it? Which is a great question. The answer to that question also brings us back to my original point with this point. I broke it right after the PCH goes from the 101 to the 1 on the coast of California, specifically right after it touches the coastline revealing absolutely breathtaking views. I was devastated, and a little concerned as I had no GPS and had been relying on it entirely for the ride up till that point (some, I don't know 4k+ miles).
In fact, what it turned into is one of the best days of that trip. I was completely blind and completely detached from anything that wasn't physically connected to my body flying down the coast of California. I had to navigate by following signs and asking for directions. I noticed the surroundings much more along the way. Everything seems more vivid when you've lost the sometimes, I'm embarrassed to say, manic need to take pictures of things as you go along. The brutal irony of that day was that I dropped the phone because I couldn't stop taking pictures of the sights on the trip and as a result I lost every single picture I took from Boston to California. Thankfully I had kept a travelogue of daily Instagram posts, so then the only day that has no pictures to account for it was the day I rode down the coast of CA. Those are views that can only be recreated in my mind, sans-iPhone, and I kind of like it that way.