Tag: vagabonding

Transitioning: A place to call home

When one transitions from van life back to living behind the four walls of a house, believe it or not, it takes quite a bit of adjusting. One might say there’s a bit of separation anxiety or grief. Why do I say that? Perhaps it’s something that can only be understood by someone who has experienced living for more than a month in a custom van. Allow me to explain.

We first moved into “SleepyTurtle”, our self-built Ford Transit, in June of 2020. We transitioned from aprox. 6,000 sq ft to about 40. Now that in itself was actually easier than you’d think. See, living in a van opens up your “home” to all the outdoors. Don’t like the scenery…move. Don’t like the weather… drive to a new location. Your overhead boils down to fuel, both propane and petrol, camp spots, water (in some countries), food, insurance (health/car and travel), repairs and maintenance of your rig and of course connectivity, be it cellphone, internet/WiFi, or satellite radio. Simple. 

Living in a van allows you freedom. 

Living in a van allows you solitude.

Living in a van allows you to connect with nature and like-minded people. Simple people. 

Living in a van there’s no agenda aside from what direction you’ll head, where will you spend Winter this year, Summer? 

Living in a van makes you conscientious of trash production, water and power usage. 

Nature becomes your front and back yards. Wether beach, mountain, lake or desert, it can all be yours for as long as you choose. Fancy another country for a few months, years? Go for it! You’re mobile!

In the last five years, we’ve owned and lived in 2 different vans. Each served a purpose geared to the trip ahead. “Willow” was built and enhanced for a trek to the Arctic Circle, Alaska, BC and Alberta Canada and finally South Dakota and all the way to the tip of Baja California Sur, Mexico. Willow performed like a champ and is now retired and will be put up for sale soon. We’ve now moved onto Costa Rica where we are AirBnBing it for the next while. 

So, back to transitioning. We now reside back inside. I remember the first night back in a walled building. I lie awake listening to the hum of the electricity, the sound of water and flushing toilets. The hiss of central AC and heating units. I missed the silence. 

There are the “comforts of home”, TV, WiFi (no longer isolated to brick and mortar), running water, a big fridge and ice cubes, climate control, clean hot showers, a plug on every wall, and beside every table and chair with an unlimited source of power. The price tag for such niceties is pricey and often requires a job or takes a big chunk out of the monthly budget, and takes a chunk of your freedom away. But every now and then, you feel the need to “nest”, meaning to settle down in one place for an extended period of time, or as Chris puts it, “a place to put your stuff…” of which we have little material things left. 

I’m currently sitting in my air conditioned room, looking outside. It looks beautiful but I am in a city. There’s no seeking silence out there only in here, with the hum of the mini-split, running water and TV. The transition is tough. The freedom of the road or a “place to put our stuff” and call home? Not all exploration can be done in a van I guess. A new chapter has begun for the chicas. 

Driving while gringo

We are booking it back to Salt Lake City. We are about 30 miles outside Mesquite Nevada and our camp for the night. 

Getting back into the FUSA was quite an experience. 

We left San Filipe after visiting with our new friends we met on our beach in Playa La Escondida. They had come down for Laurie’s birthday and happened upon the Hidden Bar, our little beach bar, open everyday except Monday and Thursday. We sat at the table beside them and started talking like old friends. I found out that she had owls as a spirit animal and finally I understood who I was making the owls for. We grabbed dinner with them and then took off the next day. 

It’s quite a slog all the way to the border from San Filipe in one day since the roads suck so bad. We pushed all the way to the border and arrived at around 1:30 or so. As was typical, there were no signs directing traffic so we cut into the double lane with a tall yellow curb preventing anyone from cutting in or out except at certain streets. The lanes were moving terribly slow and we remembered that we had global entry and that worked at the borders too. SO we got out of the slow lanes and went into the ACCESO lane. 

Well that was a mistake. 

So first three Mexicano Border guards desired to take a good look in the van, back utility boxes, bathroom, cabinets and then let us go. Next was the US border agents. It was then the mistake became clear. We were asked for our passports specifically. He said that since we decided to come down the wrong lane, we had to go through a secondary inspection. What? We informed him we had global entry and he said oh, well it’s too late now. We were directed into a stall, told to leave all electronics, including our watches and cellphones in the car and go sit in the office. We were told to open all the doors and hood. 

In this room were two rows of chairs, backs to the window so we couldn’t watch them. I sat on an end chair and watched anyway. I had brought back 2 large scallop shells and stuck them in the outside pockets of the trash-a-roo, in plain sight. The inspector asked about them, where they came from? I told him and he was pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to have them. The inspector got another inspector who allowed the shells and that was the end of it. Basically we were getting our hand smacked for being in the wrong lane. We were allowed to leave. 

A few learned driving habits, good ones, died hard after crossing. In Baja, we MUST come to a COMPLETE stop at all stop signs, and anticipate which crossroads had, or were supposed to have a stop. When coming up on some bad potholes, an accident, or just slowing traffic, the 4 way blinkers come on, signaling an abrupt change in speed. There is no texting and driving since some towns have an access lane for businesses and a thru lane for traffic just passing by. This can create some tricky maneuvering as any car can turn left across all lanes from the far right lanes. Essentially making it a 6 way stop. At anytime, solid lines, curves or coming up on a hill, any vehicle will pass you, and with skinny lanes and no shoulders, this can be quite hairy and not recommended for us Gringos who are used to wide lanes. There are so many others that are just wonky but serve their purpose in Baja. 

Well, we survived Baja once again. Traveling three months from top to southern tip and back again. We met new friends and caught up with longtime friends. We sat in the emptiness, created in one’s mind, while on a beach. Swam in the salty seas. Played upon the glassy bays with our paddle boards. Ate fresh caught fish, fresh veggies and fruits, and dabbled in new tasty treats while in Oaxaca. Time seemed to slow as we became alive with new experiences, like children in adult bodies, new discoveries fascinated us. Living with purpose, relaxing into a timeless existence. Accepting whatever came our way, without needing to change it as it unfolded. Living in the moment, not the past or future, just in the moment. 

The Days of Our Lives

Our days start at sunrise in Bahia Conception as the morning light shines in on my open back doors. On this cool dewy morning I wake to smell coffee and the wet air then I stretch to greet the new day. I open my eyes and take in the sunrise. An unusual sight greets me this morning. A huge cloud bank, tightly condensed on the water and up against the mountains that outline the bay. A few obscure paddle craft dot the horizon, enveloped in the thick fog bank, as the sun begins its ascent into the morning sky turning all the dew drops into small diamonds. 

The day was only just beginning with the unusual fog, calm bay and absolutely still air heavy in dew. 

A pod of 50-60 dolphins swim from one side of the bay to the other. The little dolphins enjoy jumping and I hear giggles from the campers gathered on the beach watching the folly.  They shout and point out their location to the paddle craft in the water joining their migration across the open bay. 

Yesterday was also an unusually calm day with no wind until very late in the afternoon. Again the dolphins passed by but, to our surprise, two small whales appeared. Probably a fin or pilot whale but don’t let that spoil the fun.  On a paddle board, they are massive, thrilling, and a bit un-nerving as they swam within 50 feet or so from my paddle board.  My little kid screeched with joy and the older me pulled back the enthusiasm to a safe distance. 

It’s not only the mornings that bring us joy here at Playa La Escondida. The moon disappears from the sky as it makes its nightly voyage. Once the gang goes to sleep, which is usually by 9pm, the beach is warily quiet and dark. Looking into the water, allowing a minute for the eyes to adjust, it happens. Bioluminescents!! It’s like seeing a million fireflies all up and down the beach at the water’s edge. Green diamonds and a slash of blue and pink as you drag your paddle through the water. In the jet black of night, with a canopy of stars reflecting on the still water, it’s an otherworldly sight. In the blackness comes the “poof” of a whales blowhole as it exhales. All the sudden you realize how small you are in the scene of things and at that exact moment, standing in the vastness of the stars, you feel like you are somehow integrated into it all. 

Just Do It…

How do we do it? On the road for exactly 4 years and 8 months and 2 days…Life is too short to waste a moment. If you need to ask, well I’m so sorry for you. This last week/month has been a tremendous insight into so many things. Who really needs to discuss the elephant in the room?

With so many friends of ours that have moved from the US to live in other countries, it’s good to hear the insight from “boots on the ground”. Of course we’ve made a list of things we’d like to have, and those that are a must, where ever it is we decide to call home base. 

Can anyone ever really live the “perfect life”? 

We asked some and they will say that a “community” is important. We agree. We will say that temperature and climate as a whole impacts our decision greatly. Others claim the silence, cost of living, food, water, power…being off grid. Things, it seems we are conditioned to as “privileged” Americans. I think friends, location to things we like to do, access to water sports, and a small carbon footprint if possible, also are high on the list. Clean air and good health care are not something that can be denied. 

How do we proceed? Good question. Perhaps the real answer is that we will never be comfortable in any one place for too long. Perhaps a few months here and a few there. No real commitment and there in perhaps lies the real issue. Why commit? After all, we are wanderers, travelers. 

There are a few reasons to find a home base…one a place to feel grounded, your own. We have our place in TRNC, ready in Feb of 2027…but until then? Why do we feel a need to find one place? A place we “own”? A need to spend money? Some will say, if you’re comfortable in your own skin, there’s no need to find comfort from outside. Yes and no. It’s not that comfort we are looking for. 

The future is so uncertain. We will most likely agree to rent, long term, and leave when the urge comes. We are not getting any younger and eventually will need a “home”. Somewhere they don’t throw away their old people. A place to travel from. 

A place that targets health and well-being over treating dis-ease. A kind and stable government. 

We are wrapping up a week in Tulum, where we ventured out to see if we could find a place to call home base. Once again, the homes were lovely, one we both were ready to buy. The next day we went out again to look and we stood in the jungle for about half an hour and we both began to feel ill from over heating. We took it as a sign that this is not someplace we could enjoy for long. Oh well…on to Oaxaca for 2 weeks of fun!!

The Roads of Baja

There is a strong draw, felt by a number of nomads, to explore the wild spaces rarely visited by “tourists”. One reason is the lack of transportation capable of handling the washed out, wash board dirt roads found in these areas. Another, the urge to stay in the familiar, attached to cell phones, TV and the comforts of the brick and mortar of a home. When we tell some of our journeys, they all gasp and wonder where we ever got the need to wander.

There is a pull to the desert that has enveloped Chris and I. A need for open spaces, a dry climate and room to roam freely, sometimes without seeing another soul for days. The chance meetings often turn into deep conversations and a fire side chat recounting trials and tribulations of life on the road. We share our stories, sometimes harrowing and unbelievable. Perhaps it’s a draw to face death at every turn, or perhaps the thrill of adventure and to push the envelope beyond the comfort level of the normal human. This takes us to today, four and a half years of being free and able to travel at will, one with our surroundings.

In February of 2021, we hooked up with a caravan of three, Chris and I and two other gals, and crossed the border into Baja Mexico, for the first time. There’s a call we lean towards and freely give into, that paves the way for our wander lust. Baja seemed like the great western frontier that we needed to explore and conquer. Armed with only our cell phones and a good translation app, Garmin GPS, and a competent van, we set out to explore a country unknown to us; a 1,000 mile journey full of new flora and fauna, animals and sea life. I found it so inspiring that I wrote a book while traveling through Baja for 3 months. Fast forward to January 2025 and here we are again.

https://www.amazon.com/Childs-Story-Answers-Why/dp/B09PHHCGWX?dplnkId=38cdaa69-0263-42c6-afe6-a62c7c7e4057&nodl=1

It’s been a tough 2 years emotionally. After loosing our corgi Gandaulf, we sold our first van and all the toys we had accumulated during our travels and set out to travel around the world. Seven months traveling around Europe and another four months in SE Asia, Indonesia, and Malaysia, then back to the States where we purchased another van to complete the Canada/Alaska trip we missed out on during our two and a half years living on the road.

Alaska and western Canada is another frontier of sorts. Not like the desert but just as grand and open. The roads in each very similar; pot holed and delaminated. The punishing washboard roads in dire need of repair, are enough to put any van build or truck to the test. there would be whole days of traveling 3-400 miles and never cross another vehicle. We were never sure if the paved sections of the roads were better than the dirt roads, both held their own dangers. The grandeur of the Alaskan and Yukon outbacks are hard to match, even in the deserts of the south western USA. Still, the desire to revisit Baja California, Mexico and the desert was strong.

Today, January 6, 2025, I’m writing you while enjoying coffee and the warm sun of La Paz, Baja California Sur, surrounded by fellow travelers. We’ve traveled 1350km so far, with another 300km to go. The roads to this point have been narrow two lane highways, with little to no safety lane and often no shoulders. There are times when we must come to a complete stop to walk the van through deep potholes and slow to a crawl when passing trucks come barreling around blind corners. There are constant signs of accidents, both with roadside crosses and mangled guardrails, straightened out or completely ripped from the supports and trailing off into deep ravens as if pointing to the site of a wayward vehicle leaving the road and plummeting to its end. Often times, there will be stretches of road that have carcasses of dead cows, horses or the unidentifiable remains of some unfortunate animal, usually struck at night by a speedy semi, as they come to the flat roads to sleep. It’s a constant reminder that it only takes a second of misfortune to end a life.

So our nomadic wandering continues with so much more to see and experience. We may be absent but we are always present where ever we find ourselves. Living in the moment, sometimes with no set direction but forward. Always savoring the newness of each destination and rolling with whatever may come our way.

Wings Clipped

As a few of you know, I have been having some digestive disorders for almost a year. A friend of mine reminded me that it’s probably been much longer than that. The difference is the severity. Living as a nomad has been a lot of fun, except when an illness creeps in and knocks us down. 

Not all illness has a physical cause, as I have come to understand all too well. Our world is so full of stresses, some from outside stimuli, others from within our own body and mind.  To understand the role stress has on our mental and physical beings, has become a goal of mine since I have stopped working. It’s been a chance for me to step back and really “feel” my body and mind. It’s not just work or a job that causes “stress dis-ease”. It can be relationships with oneself and others, physical limitations (real or imagined), dis-order and dis-ease inside the mind and body, environmental influences such as smoke, weather, amount of daylight, extremes in temperatures and diet. 

This setback in my health not only affects me but also Chris. There have been days on end that I have not been well enough to do anything. Constant stomach pain, not being able to eat, nausea and a squeezing sensation in my diaphragm that takes my breath away, have all become part of my daily life for at least the last four or five months. I don’t know anyone who can live with this and try to stay chipper and act as if nothing is wrong. I try so hard tho. 

So here we sit in Rapid City, South Dakota. Many may ask…”why South Dakota? October 22, 2019, we sold everything we owned; our house, furniture, toys, tools, artwork, nick-knacks…everything but our van, which was to be our home. But…the Patriot Act states that we had to have a US domicile, in order to maintain banking in the US, including our retirement accounts. Now this is actually kinda fun, except when you need medical care, since you can look at different states and their laws and cost of living. How easy is it to get residency, register a car without being physically present, taxation of income, capital gains, etc. South Dakota checked off all the boxes. 

Now, here we sit, going through the messed up medical system of the USA. Doctors think only inside the boxes that the insurance companies set up for them to work within. That system has high deductibles that are easily consumed by the amount of testing they do to find a physical cause to the symptoms presented. My DR won’t even talk to me until all tests are completed and five other DRs look at and interpret the results, which can take up to 3 weeks we are being told. You can’t speak to anyone that doesn’t have an extended arm and hand in your face telling you to wait. I am not one to sit idly by and wait. There is no empathy, just f#%€d up rules. My point is with all these deductibles, it makes it hard to spend out of pocket $$ to see alternative Drs, like chiropractors, naturopaths, yoga instructors, acupuncture, meditation centers, on-line classes, etc., these practitioners often address the energy or dis-order inside the mind and body pathways, rather than pacifying symptoms. 

So why then, am I still sitting here? Although this is not where I’d like to be, stress caused by not feeling well can exasperate the dis-ease. Also not being able to stop for any length of time to heal, can be a problem when living as a nomad. There are other things besides surgery and invasive chemical medications that can soothe the symptoms and possibly correct the dis-ease or imbalance occurring in my body right now. These blocks and dis-order can be resolved, returning the body to a state of stasis. Stasis equals a dissolution of symptoms at their source. 

My main focus of my exploration is the vagus nerve, which is part of the parasympathetic nervous system. I also have had bouts with Ataxia in the past caused by reaction to an auto-immune inflammation in the body. While the DRs here twiddle their thumbs, I am attacking, perhaps, the root cause of this uncomfortable physical condition I find myself in. Regardless, our wings are clipped and we have hunkered down with a commitment to my health. 

Southward Bound

It’s warm and cozy, sitting in Willow (our van) with the heat on. It rained last night, as usual, and the morning sun is busting out at the seams as the heavy clouds give in to the coming day. 

The rain drops sit poised on the edge of the turning leaves and bushes on the forest floor,  just waiting to bedazzle the world when the sun finds its small existence. The lack of squirrels portends the coming of the fall chill and the stupendous color change beginning. For the last month, these busy little creatures have been scurrying from tree to tree, digging holes and filling them with a winter bounty, if they can find them under a blanket of fresh snow. The geese have been filling the skies in huge, jagged Vs, honking as they begin their southerly migration. Perhaps we should take note of these happenings and head south ourselves. 

We crossed the border from British Columbia Canada, a few days ago. The fall colors slowly fading out and the green leaves have reappeared as if we passed backward through time. The spectacular mountain vistas giving way to the subtle rolling hills covered in orchards and vineyards, then the unending flat fields of golden grains, farm houses and rogue silos, interrupting the golds with a few ancient cottonwoods, tin roofs glinting the suns rays like a diamond amongst the fields of gold. We’ve been sticking to wandering the backroads, trying to eek out whatever new experience we can find as we meander southward. 

It’s always bittersweet when we move from one place to another. This trip, now spanning over 9,500 miles, has seemed like a blur. The vast Canadian wilderness, coupled with the wildness of the Alaskan frontier, has made it easy to immerse oneself in nature, primal and raw. To have an intimate insight into the lives of the First Nations people, the animals and fishes that roam the vastness, the small plants, boreal forests, 14,000’ mountains, glaciers and lakes, Arctic tundra, towering fiords, and so much untamed beauty…has been a blessing that is etched into my mind forever. 

An Ode to Rubber Boots

The rain has come for another day…

I slink back to my bedroom and on my bed lay.

Oh come on says, a small voice in my head,

It’s but a bit of rain…

With fog drifting over head.

Just put on those rubber boots…

And throw off your dread.

My rubber boots are warm, cozy and dry…

If my toes are happy,

Then so am I.

So I wrangled myself

From out of my bed,

Opened the closet and then I said…

This will be fun.

This will be good.

I’ll put on my rubber boots,

I’ll be safe from harm…

My feet will be happy,

My feet will be warm.

A smile came over me…

I pulled in my rain coat

And was as happy as could be.

I opened the door

And I said to myself…

no more.

I stepped into the rain,

I clicked my heals… 

And without a complaint,

I thanked that little

voice in my head.

I was out of doors.

No more stuck inside.

And my rubber boots…

Kept me warm, safe and dry.

 

June 30, 2024: Mile Zero Alaska/Canada Highway

We took a break from travel today. 2 nights in the same place…yay! We managed to push through Idaho and Montana to burn the miles we had to in order to get caught up on our travel itinerary to Skagway, Alaska.

Canada has been just as beautiful as I remembered. Towering mountain ranges, frozen solid in ice and snow older than I can imagine. Huge glaciers clung to the rocky cliffs and high mountain valleys and passes. Rivers of aqua green and olive, lakes of turquoise, icy waters as clear as glass. Shear cliffs of curved and bent rock from the beginning of the earth. Further north west, turning into an undulating green valleys slowly rolling to a high peak and back down the other side. Scars of forest fires that scorch the land and leave the once majestic towering pines like burnt matchsticks.

Willow is performing brilliantly. We’ve had quite a bit of rain since we crossed into Canada. Last night we sprung a leak from our fan, I’m guessing from driving sheets of rain. It stopped as the rain tapered off. We’re settling back into van life after a pretty rocky start. But this I can tell you…our bed is super comfy, a bit of a pain in the ass to make each day but so cozy. Weather permitting, we will do more home cooking in the van. We’ve just been a bit hurried to this point.

And here we go again…

Van Life: Part Two

Canadian Rockies

As many of you already know…we came back from SE Asia on April 1, and began to plan our next adventures. We have always planned no more than a few weeks in the future. We’ve always done hours of research, blogs, travel tour itineraries, FB and IG pages; there’s just so much information to be found. Our next destination was to be Alaska and Canada.

While sitting in our hotel room in Bali, we began our research and found it very depressing how much it might cost to: A) rent a car or B) rent a van or motor coach. We had just about put the whole idea to bed when we thought about Andrew, the best man at our wedding and a wholesale car dealer in California. ‘Why not’, we thought, ask Andrew if we could browse the auctions and buy a van! It sounded like a great idea and no sooner did we ask, a Sprinter van showed up at an auction in LA, that was exactly what we were hoping for.

It was extremely low priced for what it was, a stock Revel 4×4 with 3,000 miles. After much research, phone calls at 2am Bali time, we decided to go for it, and bought the van. The auction had announced that it was stuck in 4wd low and would need to be towed to the dealer. Still under factory warranty, we decided the risk was small that a 3,000 mile Sprinter would have any major issues caused by improper use, so we scheduled an appointment with the dealer. Turned out to be user error, got her out of 4wd low by pushing a button.

Chris decided that she was going to fly to Los Angeles and drive the van back, and so 2 days after arriving back to Salt Lake, she was back on a plane and driving the van back. I would stay behind and manage our house/pet sit in Salt Lake City.

We spent the next 2 months making small but expensive modifications to the van. Suspension, sound system, bed mattress, additional storage boxes and additional water tank. We took her out a few times to the desert to make sure to work out any kinks and get a “feel” for how the space was set up for living. We finished our last house /pet sit, and loaded up the van, and set out for Canada and Alaska.

It was nice to be back on the road again. Back in a van and free. The only thing was we were basically driving through Canada and Alaska during high season and in a few places had to make reservations for camping. This does the very thing we try never to do…put us on a time schedule. We had to be in Haines Alaska by July 10th for an epoch river trip down the Tatshenshini and Alsek rivers than run the border between Canada and Alaska.

We got a bit of a late start. The van was loaded up, fluids checked, water tank full, plenty of groceries and “add water food” and clothes to cover heat to icy cold. Things had found their place in the van, all systems were go, so off we went…but we didn’t get far.

Cruising up the freeway, about 2 hours into our trip, outside of Idaho Falls, in the middle of soy beans and wheat fields, the van decided to throw a bunch of codes, the dashboard told us to pull over and shut off the engine immediately! So we did. We got out and put some reflective triangles behind the van. Bummed out, sitting on the side of the road, we called Mercedes roadside assistance and sat in the heat of the blazing evening sun waiting for a tow…back to where we came from.

I had deduced just from looking under the van that the serpentine belt, the main belt that drives all the charging and engine cooling, had shredded. The van only had less than 6,000 miles and was barely 2 years old?!? It turned out to be a warranty issue and 6 days later, we were back on the road.

Running days behind schedule we hit the road, again a late start, and boogied north. Nice thing about traveling in a van, you are completely self contained, so you can find a dirt road and follow it until you find a glorious secluded clearing, pull in, and go to sleep. That’s exactly what we did after 5 hours of driving, the last 2 with the sun glaring through the smashed bug guts on the window.

Day two: we woke to the early morning sun, warming the chilled night air. There was a huge lake outside our doors with families of Canadian geese strutting around its banks and little goslings splashing at the edge of the water. A lone cottonwood trees stood stately in the middle of the field. Just us and the geese. We took off after a bit of food and turning the van back around for travel. This requires making the bed so it can be raised up to the ceiling and freeing up the “closet” or “garage”, where our clothes and gear are stacked and organized neatly. The front two seats swivel to allow extra space and seating while parked. Window covering removed and stowed away. Counter tops cleared and cabinets doors closed and latched.

The next four hours we drove along the Beaverhead Mountains and the Bitterroot. Our destination was Whitefish Montana, to visit some dear friends that also enjoy van travel. We actually met them when we had our dealership. They owned a 2003 VW Westfalia and needed to sell it to buy and build new Sprinter conversion vans. Salt Lake Imports, or “The girls”, as we were known, came up in their search. We sold their van in a flash and became close friends.

We pulled into Whitefish at just around 6:30. Our friend suggested we go to the town square for some local live music and the food trucks, I just relished the thought of sitting in the grass, barefoot grounding myself back into the earth. Van life is usually a bit more relaxing, but with loosing 6 days we had ground to cover and fast. Our visit was short but we caught up in her kids and the sale of the house, her new business and our recent, year long EU and SE Asia trip. We still had an hour of driving to get to the border town of Eureka.

June 26, 2024, we crossed the Canadian border.