Boring Is Beautiful

By Friday night, I couldn't say much happened this week. My Monday was spent with Tara and her husband getting Mexican food and hanging around the apartment. I did not have the strength to do anything else. It's like being back in Ohio drains me entirely of all strength and alertness. I'm sleepy constantly. 

Tuesday wasn't much different, except I did have some drinks and appetizers while catching up with Liz (different one than Indiana Liz). It was short and sweet but we caught up and talked about how our lives were spiraling at the same time. Afterwards, I --- you guessed it! --- went right to sleep and I did pass go to collect $100. I simply fell on the couch and snored my way into oblivion. 

Wednesday was spent doing pretty much the exact same thing. But I did finish reading a book! #11 out of 12 for the year - I'm ahead of schedule. Overachiever mode. So there's that. 

Thursday, I packed up and went to stay in a hotel. As much as I love staying with Tara and appreciate them for allowing me to crash, there's not a good way to sleep in with two puppers! The little devils :) I ran a few errands, showered and got spiffed up and went to Nasty's for dinner. I got to see the crew that haunts the patio and get hugs and high fives where needed. I also believe I spent Zero dollars because everyone at the bar was buying my drinks for me. That was nice! 

Too many drinks though. I left early, I was only there for dinner after all, but I was welcomed Friday morning with a blistering hangover. It made the five hour drive from Columbus to Harrisburg terribly difficult. I chugged water, stopped too many times to pee, and was out of energy by 5pm. I pulled into a hotel and ordered some food. I wanted to shower and get a good night's sleep before spending the weekend with Alex. I was planning to sleep heavily and not get up early. My next stop, Philadelphia, was only an hour and a half away, so I didn't have to leave until at least ten the next morning. I was going to enjoy a Fast and the Furious marathon and some Popeye's Chicken to my heart's content and then some. 

I left Harrisburg early in the morning on Saturday and made it into Philly around 10am. My friend still hadn't left Jersey, so I had some time to kill. Parking was horrendous and on a normal day, my anxiety is through the roof with simple tasks, so I was beat. I found a parking garage near their address and parked for sanity and peace of mind. I stopped into Odd Fellows for a drink, read a little, and then went to meet Alex at his place. Our plan for the day: bar hopping. Just what I needed, more alcohol! 

Soju and Wings

I kid, I kid...but I was already working at half-mast. We agreed to head to a Korean bar that also serves Soju and started our Saturday. The soju was superb! The chicken was immaculate. We were starting strong and the soju was slowly creeping up on us. From there, the plan was a cider bar, but we had to avoid his ex apparently. On a quick stop by the house, we noticed there was parking farther down his street that could fit his Tesla which meant that I could save my truck from the parking garage and park right outside on the street. We moved both vehicles and off we went to bar #2 - the A Bar. Unsure why it was called that when the sign outside said AKA, but I digress. The staff was lovely and gave us some suggestions for our next bars. We hit a cool little spot called Oscar's and made our way to the Tattooed Moms. By far the Best bar I'd been to since Stardust in Phoenix. From floor to ceiling, there were posters and stickers and drawings. It was like what you'd expect an abandoned building with graffiti would look like, but somehow it worked. There was dim lighting, excellent music and young people congregating here and there. We got some drinks at the bar and made our way to sit in a little bumper car that was repurposed as a seat. It was phenomenal. 10/10 would recommend. 

My Mandalorian Punch

After what I think was four (probably) Mandalorian Punches (a bag filled with rum punch and bobo), I was ready for bed. I no longer wanted to stand up or talk to anyone else. I was started to fade in a big way. So we said goodbye to his roommates, whom had met us at the bar a little before, and walked back to the house. We made couscous and listened to a smooth jazz-ish and headed to bed. I had a blast. 

Said Car Thingy 

Not a lot happened this week, but at least that meant nothing Bad happened. Small victories. Honestly.. I loved that the week was boring and not a lot was scheduled or going on. I have been go-go-going constantly since last week's start in San Diego and I am exhausted! Bring on the boring for a few days!

I'm leaving Philly tonight and driving toward Maine. Tomorrow, I will be gainfully employed by a camp company where I'll be doing their night audits - basically running daily financials and handling late check-ins. This means I will have about eight hours each night I work of Nothing work-related, so I will finish editing my book (hopefully) and push it through publishing that much faster! I could also be less of a stickler for what I want to keep in it. Some things just can't be cut, you know? 

Sometimes, letting go is the only option..

I woke up Monday morning slightly groggy but excited for the White Sands National Park. I debated doing laundry but opted to just shower and go instead. The drive from Las Cruces only took 45 minutes and the park had Just opened. No one was at the gates yet, which meant no one was charging for entry. The gate was open - just no one in the window. Before you say anything, the guy at the main desk said if no one is there, there is no fee. They just got new staff, training, timing issues, etc.

When I tell you it was like being in the Sahara... The whitest sand and tallest dunes as far as the eye can see! Right after bushes and trees and normal clay desert kinds of things - just BAM! Apparently, there was an ocean there millions of years ago and as the sea levels dropped and the land mass rose, the sandy sediment on the ocean floor came with it. I got to climb up and walk through an ancient sea floor! That's some next level mermaid stuff right there.  

Yeah, st*t was cool.

I spent a good couple of hours there and decided I needed to get going. What was I in a rush for? Absolutely no reason, I just have anxiety. I also had a lot of ground to cover up next - Texas. Texas alone can take a whole day, and the last time I drove through Texas, I'd ended up accidentally in Mexico with no passport (I made sure to bring it this time). I left White Sands with a feeling of my insignificance, stopped for gas, some red bull, and a 5-Hour Energy Shot just in case and off I went.

I won't bore you with the details of the next fifteenish hours - just lots of driving and refueling and a single BK run for chicken fries. It was a mistake, believe me. I messaged my friend in Indiana that I'd be there a lot sooner than planned, which was Saturday evening. I'd be there Wednesday instead. Thankfully she was free, so I was going to do Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas Tuesday and then head up to the Indiana dunes and stop in to see her Wednesday.

That meant getting to Ohio by Thursday morning. I decided not to tell a single soul until absolutely necessary.

To note (and skip this if you're not keen on super long musings about the vastness and beauty of this world or the smell of rain coming in from the east). On Tuesday as I'm driving through Texas, I'm going through these back roads on I 410 or maybe 195, I honestly do not remember. I'm going under all of these canopies of trees and just being amazed by how green everything is. It made me miss this side of the country a little bit just because in Arizona there's nowhere that's this green. Even in Flagstaff it's snow or it's rock, but there's not just big fields of grass and huge groves of trees, at least not in winter. And I just missed all of the trees. And the smell of oaks and pines entwined in large groves. I think I was just feeling rather dreamy along my lonely drive. The kind of big gulp of air in your chest and walking a little bit taller feeling. 

I was feeling small, wondering how the world could be so pretty and so vast. I think it was because I woke up at 6:00 a.m. after maybe 3 and 1/2 hours of sleep. So I was a little sideways instead of fully cognizant. I think the XM radio station Coffee House really helped because it's just all dreamy music and ballads. I don't know. I just felt a little more whole or maybe even a little incomplete like... I missed home or something.

But what is home? I always thought that it was Arizona. Or I'd thought that it was the road. I think maybe I don't know what or where home is. So I just keep driving. I just keep searching for home.

- Smooth Segway - 

 

I made it to Hot Springs, Arkansas and saw a few bathhouses. They literally have the natural spring going under them and use it to fill the tubs inside! I walked through downtown Hot Springs and found a little Mexican restaurant with a bartender that looked like Mina Kunis (she did not agree she looked like her but appreciated the compliment). Excellent taco salad, good company. 

After a margarita for the road, I drove very sleepily through Arkansas to Memphis to get to a campsite for a much needed shower and that dreaded heap of laundry. I had maybe two pairs of underwear left, so it was necessary. I had a minor emotional breakdown on the way about a family matter on the drive and pulled over to call my best friend, Tara. She was lovely and made me stop crying and I felt much better. 

Another rambling musing about the road incoming - The great thing about doing solo vanlife is that you may be solo, but you're never truly alone. I have Ben and Carla, and Gary, Richard, Becky in Arizona. Liz and Marvin in California. Trey soon to be in Texas. Aliyah and Karina in Colorado. Liz and Theo in Indiana. Tara, Megan and Max, Lindsay, Liz and Sam, and Rachel in Ohio. Alex in Pennsylvania. I have so many people along the way that I never feel like someone is too far away from me. That's super comforting and makes me a lot less lonely as I drive further and further down the road. It also made me feel super comfortable about letting go of the last bits of family I had (more on this later).  

To further my week of mental breakdowns (two in two days was a new record) - I was still reeling from Tuesday when I was getting ready for a dinner date with Liz B in Indiana and dropped concealer on my new White Sands van shirt (every national park visit is paired with a national park van decal of an actual van - if they're out, I get the matching T-shirt - it doesn't have to make sense, it just is how it is). I couldn't get it out and just started crying. I was bawling. Just tears and snot and making a scene in the parking lot of a Mexican restaurant. It was obviously a big overreaction, and I could recognize that even in the moment. I just couldn't stop it. 

I posted on FB the status of my mental breakdown via concealer dilemma and was SAVED BY THE BEN. OxiClean + warm water = removal of makeup stains. Who knew? Google wasn't helping with what I had in my van - it said dish soap and don't scrub. It said cold water and makeup wipes. MAKEUP WIPES! All that did was smear it into the shirt further. I had given up and thought maybe I can turn the shirt into a bandana or a pillow case or something. I was GIVING UP like an asshole. I couldn't handle a simple problem at this moment, obviously. But I digress, it has been resolved! 

So - I made it to Ohio FINALLY and got to see Megan's baby girl. I spent a few hours catching up with them and holding her and she was just the cutest. I also saw Rachel and we stayed up talking about cryptids and energies and waited on the meteor shower. Then I got to see my best friend, Tara. We had a chill Friday night, had a blast on Saturday, and are once again chilling today. We plan to have two more days of relaxing togetherness and I'll be on my way once more. She's been my rock this week, this past year. Hell, this past decade. When my family ties come undone, she's there to tell me its going to be okay. She's my family. Digression, once more!

Widdle Baby Marcie

So today - I got a few new tattoos. I got a dog print on my hand for Thanos (we miss you, stinky boy), and a snail and cactus for my love of Arizona and a snail obsession with a friend I met in Arizona last year. He's obsessed with them - I like them well enough. There's a love story to tell about the desert and the night sky and stolen kisses in my van next to a campfire and yadda yadda. 

So on top of all the mental breakdowns I've had this past week, that's where my week ended. 

I promise next week's post will be less depressing and sassy and snide. I'll be coming to you from somewhere between Philadelphia and Surry, Maine. I start my six month stint on the following Wednesday. Wish me luck!

***And no, I didn't forget about the promised tattoo photo - I'm giving you the Thanos paws because the other one is a surprise for someone, you'll see it next Sunday! 

Mishaps and Missteps - it's all a part of the process!

This past week was very eventful. I say that knowing full well that previous weeks were *also* jam-packed with shit. I'll just dive in.

On Monday, Carla left San Diego at 6am and I promptly lost my wallet. Sometime between saying goodbye and lunch - my wallet had grown legs and walked off into the ether. I was distraught, to say the least. Every single one of my cards - debit and credit - were in my wallet (perhaps a note for later when I decide to hide one or two credit cards in my damn truck). My Id. My National Parks pass. The only way to exist I had to my name - poof. Gone.

I cleared out the tent. Twice. I cleared out the truck, bit by bit. I called Carla - it wasn't in her car. 

I texted the JTree troupe and told them I couldn't make it back on Wednesday, which had been our plan. I was to return, go to Open Mic Night with Shay. I told them I had to stay in San Diego and recoup my losses so I could order new cards, locate my passport or some other form of ID until I figured out a solution. I could use my phone's wallet to get gas where that was accepted, at least to get back to Arizona. I felt safe there, had an address there, and had friends that could potentially foot the bill to at least get me where I needed to go. I received no response from them and figured they did not hold their breath waiting for Sarah to return. No hard done, no long-lasting friendship made. They had their own shit, and I had my obvious problems. I was sad, not even so much of a Hope it works out or something, but such was vanlife. People come and go quicker than exit signs on the freeway. Not everyone you meet is destined to meet you again along your journey. But I digress..back to the issue at hand!

I gave up on finding it in my campsite or truck - it was missing. I went to the campground office and store - no one had turned it in. They took down my information and said if anyone did turn it in, it would be given back to me in some way. Comforting. 

I had a mini panic attach and Carla texted me good vibes, good thoughts, manifest finding it.

I cried instead. 

I pulled myself up by the proverbial boot straps and began to tear down camp. Again. Somewhere in all of my useless shit would Have to be my wallet. I had to be there. 

Three more hours later. A tent torn to pieces and folded away. Bags, turned inside out and strewn across the campsite. Blankets hung from car doors. Clothes cluttered the table and grass. The truck doors open and sagging in defeat. Alas - in a bag I had put under my front seat, where all useless bags when, held my dearest lifeline. My wallet was found!

                                                    Here's me cool as a cucumber that day. 

I was over and done with San Diego at that point. I had a sour taste in my mouth and my camp was already torn down - I left Tuesday morning instead of Wednesday and headed back to Phoenix. 

A cool thing about Carla visiting - Carla was coming down off a cold and had been miserable the week before. Apparently, it hadn't fully left her before jumping into my misery. I was sneezing and coughing a little bit while I was tossing about my tent and truck. I thought nothing of it. I had drank the night before, had a gummy. Coughing the next morning to clear out the old pipes was normal, right? 

Incorrect.

I was miserably and terribly down with the sickness. I had Carla's cold. I coughed and sneezed and blew my shnoz the entire way through California and into Arizona. I coughed and blew from the coast, to Goodyear to Chandler to Mesa. I coughed and blew my nose and GODDAMNIT bled because it also had to be my time of the month. COULD ANYTHING ELSE GO WRONG HERE? *apologies if that is too much information. I'm just trying to paint a very miserable, yet very accurate, picture of my journey back east. 

I slept in a Cracker Barrel parking lot and decided I'd start fresh the next day. I woke up at five, promptly had to urinate, but stayed in bed for two more hours. I couldn't wait any longer and kept sniffling myself into a migraine, so I got up. Carla texted me to check on me and I delivered the bad news - Sarah, miserable, sickly, disappointed. Being the responsible party - I mean, being the saint that she is, she told me to just come back up to Flagstaff, stay with her, and get better. 

So I headed back up to Flag and got a sofabed, fed at least two meals a day, hung out with Spider the grey kitten, and got a few more days with my Arizona besties. Thursday night, we went to Trivia with Ben and his friends. I was glad to see him one last time before Maine (that's a fun update! Did you miss it?) It was fun, I was intoxicated, but I was breathing during most of it. I thought I'd gotten through it. Woot woot. 

Lo and behold - Friday morning was a dreadful, painful morning of sniffling, coughing, migraines. But I had to get back to Phoenix. I had to get the rest of my mail from Mesa and my hope was that I'd relax at the KOA pool Friday and be better by Saturday. Hopefully, my aunt Flo would be gone as well. 

So Saturday, I was feeling better, thank the gods. (This is the part of the blog post where it's happier and less angry and uptight, I promise). The plan was brunch with Jessica, then napping and probably laundry, and then we'd go out on the town later that night. Being the naiive babies that we are, we started with brunch and just never left downtown Tempe. Oh, and I'd met Jessica on an outsiders Facebook group post where she asked whether anyone was in the area and I said I would be in March, so we exchanged info and here we were. 

We'd hung out a couple of times previously, and each time, we were kindred spirits. She gets me and I can be myself entirely. We hopped several bars for brunch, shopped in the hidden walkways between stores, and ended up having dinner and pre-rave drinks on an almost-rooftop. I had given up around 8:30pm. I'd been up since 5 or 6am and I am not a late-night kind of gal. I do not do late night partying/drinking well. She walked me back to my truck and we bid our goodbyes and promised to stay in touch. She was from New Hampshire, and I'd be living in Maine for 6 months, after all. I had a blast. 

Jessica and I, I believe it was drink #6

I got back to the KOA, watched Jurassic Park and passed out. Sunday morning, I drove to the Saguaro National Park in Tucson, Arizona and it was wiiiild. There were millions of the cacti all over and they were taller than some houses. I renewed my parks pass, watched a short film about how they came to be, and drove the winding road out of town toward New Mexico.

Now, I'm sitting in my tent in another KOA in Las Cruses, New Mexico, about to probably watch Jurassic Park to fall asleep because I have a problem and it's repetition when it comes to movies. Tomorrow, I'll pack up and head to White Sands National Park nearby before heading through Texas, Arkansas, Indiana, and then back to ole Ohio to see my lovely friends. I cannot wait, but I'm also very excited about the White Sands. I'm told its like a sea of white and I'm usually against that much white. *joke* 

See y'all next weekend, where I'll be writing from Ohio with fresh ink! I'll share, don't worry :) 

2024/5 Musings - Its a Start!

I have decided to hike the PCT in 2024 or 2025, if we make it that long as humans (honestly, I don't hold a lot of hope but we'll see). Lots of training, lots of other hikes, Havasupai again (again). Two years of training and working to pay every last thing off so I won't have to worry about bills while I'm on the 6 month hike. So that's a thing I'll be doing. I'm excited. Just gotta start somewhere, you know?

So here's the plan: 
1) Biggest, hardest for me Right Now - cutting out alcohol. Seriously - ever since the pandemic curbed life in 2020, I have been hitting the bottles pretty hard as my version of therapy. It has not ended up doing much good in my life. This is dumb, but it's real. It's an actual thing that I struggle with and need to get a handle on before doing anything like this. I had to cancel Havasupai this year because my body just wouldn't allow me to hike without going into some kind of cardiac arrest and my stomach is sloshing about at all times because of the "water weight" - aka boozy belly. I'm trying, okay? 

2) Next! Using that gym membership I've been hoarding for showers on the road and nothing else. Vanlife has taught me a few things about when and how often one needs to shower and the Planet Fitness $10 a month access pass has done wonders. But I haven't really used it for much else, you know? I need to. 
This will start with an easy 1-3 days of treadmill and stairs. From there, once the tread and the stairs stop being such a hard task, I'll move on to splitting my days into cardio - tread, stairs - and then weight training on the other days - legs, legs, legs!

3) The only thing better than training your body is training your GUT! I will be diving into a caloric deficit until I hit a good, healthy, strong spot, and then I'll be focusing on Just energy. If you're hiking long distances, you have to be able to keep going! Stamina is not my strong suit. At all. *insert farting noise here* I also need a more regular bowel (shh).
Starting diet - keto-centric with low calorie intake and lots and lots and LOTS of water (I don't know why water is so difficult to drink without being dangerously parched). I've even tried water enhancements and add-ons like MIO and the like, but it's still just like . . . water with colorful, tasty sediment in it and that gives me the ick. No words. 

4) Find someone to hike the PCT with.
Generally, when you start the PCT, you get on a bus of a dozen other people starting the hike, so you're not actually *alone* when you start. The issue is that you have to keep up with someone if you're hiking with them, and that just isn't for me. I am very slow, but I'm hoping with my training and strengthening, I will speed up a bit. I've never been fast - even Havasupai took me several hours to hike into and probably double the amount of time to hike out of. The hope is that someone will take pity on me, or better yet, someone slow will also be hiking the PCT that I can link up with. A girl can dream, CANT SHE?!

5) Document EVERYTHING - that's right - everything! 
From videos, youtube or tiktok (rip?), blogs here, FB posts, etc. I will be taking people along for the ride. I am assuming that this journey of strength and longevity will take me two years, but why not hope for less? I think I'm more worried that the United States will be in ruin before long, so I don't want to wait too long and miss my chance. Fleeing the US might be in all of our futures. 
I'm a big fan of FB posts and TikTok updates and this blog, meaning I keep up with those weekly. My issue is accountability. I gotta stay on it! So here we are.

Is this a bad idea? Probably. Well, maybe not bad per se, but definitely out there. This is a musing more than a plan, but I like to pretend I have faith in myself and my abilities. It's doable for thousands of people, so it has to be doable for me. Right? 

April 10th, a day and a dollar late - weekly recap

Sorry for missing Sunday. I had the choice between powering my fridge and food inside or powering up the laptop for a nice blog post I didn't know how long would take to write. In vanlife, everything goes wrong every now and then, but here is Sundays update, a day late. 

I've realized in the desert of all places, barren and wild...that I'm not as interesting as everyone I meet. It hits like a wave of sadness but also hope. I could get here. I could be the cool vanlifer who has her shit together every second. But that's just not me. And there are so many stories to make me feel smaller and I have to bend my neck to take it all in. 

This past week, I left Flagstaff and stopped in Mesa to pick up my replacement Fitbit. I have dreams of being active, I really do. 

I get to California, so bright, so sandy. I take a detour saving me an hour and it's all dirt roads and spots of pavements before opening up to new roads out of nowhere. I'm still worried by the lack of signal when I'm out in the middle of nowhere alone. I see hitchhikers and I feel better about the lonely road. If they can do it, I can break down and be fine. The many a CALL BOX littering the sides of the road calms me down immensely as well, until finally - I pop over a twisty bend and into Twenty Nine Palms, California. I.e. Joshua Tree. 

Here, there is a man who I've seen on Instagram and Facebook who built a small campground for vanlifers in the desert. I've made a reservation to stay for three or four days. I assume no one else will really be there. This isn't a popular season for desert dwellings, as the temps just keep rising. However, when I get there, I'm met by Jack, the current camp host. He's a short, lively man who is Uber excited about the grounds and immediately invites me to a 'going away' night in town for another camper. It's a bar hosting a Drag Bingo game and I'm down. He introduces me to a few campers that are out and about during my intro tour and I set up camp and get settled before bingo. 

Drag Bingo was a hit. We all had a blast. I won a prize bag for a random card I grabbed last minute and turned in. It was a riot. We got back late from the show, just a few of us, and we hung out in the tiny group trailer trading tales and discussing how we all got into vanlife.

Shay is 24. She's exciting, she's loud, she's adorable. She's a favorite of the group. It was to be her going away that night. She teaches classes online and gets by tinkering away at her half-formed utility van as she goes. She's bright. She's full of life and age tells me she loves me instantly. My vibe. My story. We click! Were the last to go to bed and age hugs me before we go our separate ways to sleep. 

The next day is more chill, just book shop hopping with a few people from camp and Mexican food with Shay - a nice quiet day. We wait until the sunsets for a group fire ring and conversation. 

There's a man from Quebec and he used to produce music. We all sat around the fire listening to his painfully emotional tracks and talking about our own trips with memory, drugs, and family ties. His name is Serge and he likes to tell jokes. He brought red wine for Shay and holds it when she has to get up to tend the fire or light a joint. He holds us in high regard because we are young and we are all on different paths. He tells us many times how amazed he is that we're all out here in the desert, so young and bright and full of wonder. He is glad to have met us. 

Shay wants to go on a night walk under the full, full moon. She calls it Walky Bakey, we will be stoned. She's arguing with the guy next to her about the consistency of cherry tomatoes and they agree to disagree until later when a shared cherry burrito will change his mind. Her laughter brightens the fire ring more and I feel a tinge of jealousy. I want to feel what it's like to instantly be the most interesting person in the room and have contagious laughter without trying. She's amazing. 

Aiden left for San Diego the morning before. He's one of those world traveling kids from messed up families who does something with it. I've seen photos of him all over the world and I've been following his growth at the campground. This is his baby, and we're all thankful for it. 

California. New Jersey. Montana. Arizona. Quebec. Two more campers arrived before the fire ring began. Our circle grows and becomes more than us in Joshua Tree. This is home. Out here. Amongst the stars and coyotes and desert and discovery. This is joy. This is sameness in chaos. This is hope. I drive away knowing I must go back. A piece of me will forever be left in Joshua Tree. 

Drag Bingo Crew

I drove 3.5 hrs from Joshua Tree to San Diego to meet Carla. We planned to hike to the ocean through an alley between houses. The trail quickly goes from just a downhill trek to me hanging onto the sides of a slot canyon for dear life and telling Carla I can't do it. I hate myself. I can do so much, but my legs are weak and my arms are overworked from overuse. I am on the verge of tears as I'm wedged inside of a slot that I don't think I can get out of. Carla is reassuring and telling me I CAN do it. I just have to keep going. I knew going down probably would have been fine. I'd panic, but we'd make it. What I didn't trust was getting back up. 

I felt useless and scared and ashamed I couldn't do it. I had to turn back. I didn't want to ruin her hike. She kept reassuring me that she'd already done it before. It's okay if I couldn't. If my body was telling me no, I just needed to listen to it. She promised she wasn't mad. I choose to believe her, mostly. I resent myself so I assume she just also. It's something I couldn't stop. But it was fine! We finally got out of the slots and made it back to the car to go find a beach we didn't have to propel with ropes into. 

The Start of the Hike ^

The Slots ^

My trepidation ^

Carla, cool as a cucumber, waiting for me to get a grip

We hit two beaches and a lovely dining joint called Gossip Grill and got bunny ears at the door. (Oh, it was Easter Sunday.) From there, we went back to the camp, laid in the sun, had a few gummies and watched a little bit of the Mummy before I passed clean out. I was exhausted. But I was also alive. And that meant something to me, as much as I claimed and portrayed that I could care less. 

We made plans as I said goodbye to her at 6am Monday morning. I'll be back in Arizona. There, I'm getting new tires, a lift on the truck, and renewing my license. I'm headed back to the east coast at the end of the week and I am thrilled to begin my tenure in the cliff towns of northern Maine. When I return to Ohio on my way, I'll drop off everything at the storage unit so I'm taking only the necessities to Maine. Six whole months. It's all I can think about. 

Once I have a destination in mind, nothing else connects. Nothing settles. It's all muddy. I'm ready to start living the east coast life for a spell. It's six whole months. Can I stay put that long? 

My next stop is back to AZ for brunch with Jessica, whom I met randomly in Arizona off of an outdoor group post. Then Flag to see Carla and Ben one last time before heading to New Mexico and its White Sands National Park. Maybe I'll see an alien or two in Roswell. 

As always, stay tuned, stay wild, and don't be afraid to turn back. Know your limits and exceed them only when you're ready. It's okay to fail. I'll catch you next weekend!

More photo dumping below:

More JTree Troop at the Fire (final night)

San Diegooooo

Sea Cave in San Diego

It was Easter Sunday, after all.

Drag Bingo Popping Off

Thank you. 

Accountability - Restart

 To recap - to keep you updated - to be HERE whilst also being connected - April 4, 2023

I'm sitting at a window in a heated apartment of a friend, watching snow fall in Flagstaff, Arizona. It's peaceful. It's bright. It's likely very, very cold outside this window. Joshua Bassett sings about love and loss of family from my phone next to me.

And I have decided I am content. I hope for tomorrow. I'm ready for the day. Mostly. I haven't put on pants yet, my crumpled and disheveled sports bra hangs off my body from too many nights tucked into the back of my truck in the cold, in the heat. There's a half eaten plain bagel with garden vegetable cream cheese balancing on my right knee, a water bottle begging me to take a sip next to my left. 

I haven't decided what I'm going to do next and that makes me content. I don't Have to do anything. I don't Have to be anywhere, check in with anyone or swipe a badge in an office. I'm waiting for my friend to get back from a client. We don't have plans, no set schedule. We mused about maybe going to the local REI to get her sandals. We opted for yoga at some point later today. There is no need. No structure. We don't have to do anything. Unless we choose to. 

And that, tiny audience, is why I choose vanlife (truck life, tent life, couch-surf life - wherever the days take me). 

I GET TO CHOOSE.

I felt for most of my life that each day had a set schedule. Whether I had work, school, whichever prescheduled commitment I had put into a busy calendar. Each time I had a destination, there was no alternate route, no last-minute adjustments just because I changed my mind. Bills had to be paid, commitments made, and structure built. After my brain surgery, the bills quadrupled. The commitments became harder. The structure I had seemed so daunting. When I finally got into the hang of things, the daily bustle, the grind, I was depressed. I took a look around my little life and I did not like what stared back at me.

Sure, I had a home. I had groceries. I had electricity and a vehicle. I had everything I needed. 

But something was missing. 

Was food and shelter the only boxes I needed to check off of the list of my life? Just to exist was enough after undergoing invasive brain surgery and surviving a coma. Right? 

It wasn't.

This is my why. Waking up in a new city, an old friend, and a day of possibilities. I don't Have to do any one thing or be anywhere at a set time. I get to choose. So much of my life was out of my hands. I couldn't choose my childhood - couldn't choose to get out when I needed to. I couldn't choose my mother Not abandoning me mentally and emotionally. I couldn't choose Not to have a brain tumor. I couldn't choose Not losing everything. I could not choose. 

And I know that most of life happens when we're not planning or choosing what happens next - we're not gods. I know every day isn't always like today. I know the arguments about choosing within a life of restraints and confinements out of necessity.

But I choose Not to live like that. I choose to dive into the unknown each day, to try something or somewhere new as much as I can. I have been shit at keeping up with this blog. I'm going to do my utmost best to keep you abridged of all of my adventures, even the little ones. In doing so, I get to remind myself every day of Why I Chose This Life. 

Here is my commitment to us: I will post once a week - on Sundays. I will detail the good, the bad, the ugly and the marvelous. I will post this here, on the blog, and I will share or copy/paste onto my Facebook as long as it exists. I'll likely be active on Instagram as well, so you'll see the "auto-share" photos between these posts. In the meantime..

Here is what I ask of you: Every day, every moment you find yourself stuck or sad or just feeling like There has to be more to life than this - I want you to choose one thing to add into your week to make you feel like This is your chosen adventure. A hike, a workout, just going to a coffee shop and reading, or seeing the new big cinematic flick on your own. Just one thing to connect yourself to catching your longing. That invisible, seemingly unattainable aspect of freedom and letting go. 

With that... next week's post will come from San Diego, California. I'll see you guys there.