Coronavirus World Tour 2020

Our last two days in London were surreal. 

We arrived back from Scotland on a nine car train that should have held 500+ people and there were 32 people on the entire train. It was eerie pulling into Euston station, which is usually filled with travelers. 

There were literally none other than us on the platform. 

Even the ticketing station only had 100-200 people. 

We went staring from Euston to the tube platforms for King’s Cross/St. Pancras and when we got off at King’s Cross, one of the busiest transportation hubs in the city, it was rainy, cold and mostly empty. Or at least as empty as King’s Cross would ever be. 

Our last night was spent in another YHA hostel that was amazing. 

None of the hostels in Europe are selling dorms during this crisis so our private room with en-suite in downtown London across the street from St. Pancrus was £33 per night. 

The photo below was taken from the open window of our room. 

This was a great hostel, as the all have been. We will definitely return. 

Our room in London

Our room in London

Our room in London

Only one hostel didn’t have an en suite but it was still so charming (Belfast), not to mention the facilities were spotless. 

Our room in Belfast

Room in Belfast

View from our room in Belfast

On our last day in London, I awoke at 4:30, unable to sleep any longer from the stress and uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Katrina awoke at 6:30 and we decided just to get up and head to the airport just in case we ran into trouble. 

It was a great move because dozens of tube stations were closed by government decree so there was some chaos on the crowded trains. We donned our respirators out of precaution ahead of time, also another wise decision. 

By the time the tube train pulled into Heathrow, our car was empty. Only Americans are going anywhere at the moment. 

Empty train pulling into Heathrow

Ironic poster for Hawking’s last book. 

Surprisingly, we didn’t run into any issues checking in or going through security so we arrive at the gate 3 1/2 hours early. I found an unoccupied bench, inflated my travel pillow and donned my eye mask and earplugs before burrowing into my sleep sack for a nap. 

Katrina opted to read. 

When we finally boarded the big Boeing 767, the flight was completely full and our travel insurance has gotten us two seats in the very back row of the plane, which ended up being pretty comfy except we couldn’t lay our seats back for the 8 hour flight.

We occupied ourselves by watching movies in unison the whole flight. It was fun choosing a movie and then pausing one or the other until they were in sync. We watched Jumanji 2 and Ford vs Ferrari. We made it halfway through the first Jumanji (of the new franchise) before the turbulence that had plagued us across the entire pond became too much for me and it was time for three Ativan and a hard hand-holding from Katrina. 

For those of you who have flown with me, you know that I love to travel and LOATHE to fly.  I do it despite my fear because the world is too amazing to miss out on. 

Once we landed it was fairly chaotic with the health declaration paperwork and customs declarations and they wouldn’t let anyone off the plane until they were all filled out. 

Surprisingly, the health screenings went quickly since the airport was virtually empty and we sailed through customs. 

Our connecting flight couldn’t be changed from April 6th without routing through several other airports and 20 hour layovers, so we called a client of ours who runs a rental car agency and she was a savior and got us a one way rental without a drop off fee so we’re presently in West Virginia driving to my mom’s house to gather our babies and head back to Myrtle Beach to quarantine. 

More than anything, we can wait to see Callie and Norm. 

We can’t see my mom because I simply can’t risk exposing her since she’s 77. 

So we’re back on American soil ☹️ for the time being. 

Though this is the sigh we jus passed:

It’s nice to pretend for a minute. 

Day Three: Natchez Trace Parkway, Sardis Dam

Tally: Days- 1.5, Girls-1.5

I know the tally above looks odd, and I’ll admit that today was off to a roaring good start at beating us into a flat quivering mass of girl colored goo, but late in the day a couple of things went right (in between moments of “Seriously, WTF already?”) so I decided that today was a draw... but since I don’t like math that doesn’t add up, I split the win instead of confusing myself or my readers later on with bad math. 

First of, let me say that Google Maps had an epic fail day, not once, but TWICE. 

Epic Fail Number One: we are headed from Gadsden, AL to Sardis, MS. 

1. Google Maps are programmed with a destination 
2. Mute is NOT on 
3. Volume is turned up
4. Google has been giving directions within this program
5. I currently have two bars of LTE Verizon signal

Google Maps, somewhere around Muscle Schoals, AL-has stopped directing- and I happen to notice about fifteen miles into it that she hasn’t said anything in awhile. 

I look down at my phone and there’s no blue line to be seen. 

Now, if you ever use Google Maps, you know that if you stray from course, the program will reroute you immediately. I re-centered my map and I still had a blue line but I was not being recalculated. I have no earthly idea why. 

I exited the program and re-started it and was able to get back on course but I still don’t understand what happened. 

Epic Fail Number Two (same day): Detours... they happen to every one and we all know that summer is construction season. 

Google sent us down a country road in MS that said the road was “Closed in _ Miles”. No number of miles was listed on the sign. 

Whenever crews close a road they offer a detour, so we weren’t worried, but we were relieved when we saw a construction sign, a road patch and and end of construction sign. We were certain that they had finished up early for Mother’s Day weekend and we were in the clear. 

Imagine our surprise when we saw a close road, cold equipment and no way through- with no detour- twenty miles down the road with no cell service. 

We were forced to turn around and Google couldn’t re-route us. 

Fortunately, our map was still up on the phone, and we were able to backtrack about two miles to a small road, follow it north a few miles, then east on a dirt road about three miles, then south about four miles with our fingers crossed that it would come out somewhere behind the construction crew and where do you think we pulled out?

 Not fifty feet behind the crew! HaHa!! No detour, my patootie!!

Best of all, we saw the most spectacular field of wildflowers on one of the tiny roads that we never would have seen had we not gotten creative.  🌹

Even though Google failed us most of the day, we scored a couple of big wins on the Natchez Trace Parkway this afternoon after a brief heartbreak that was quickly mended. 

We followed the Trace for a few hours, certainly not the entire length, which I would like to do one day, but I couldn’t find the passport stamps anywhere and when we arrived at the visitors center at 4:03, we found out that the have all of the stamps and they close at 4pm. 

Two other girls were there as well, for the same reason. I did find a geocache and I decided to do the cache so the trip wouldn’t be a complete bust. Katrina and I sat on the bench and talked a little bit and we’re just about to get up to leave when the ranger came out with an ink pads and ALL the trace stamps!  They all had tomorrow’s date but I didn’t care! I was able to do the ones that I had and it totally made my day. 

It made me happy enough to deal with the hummus that leaked in the cooler and ruined all of our ice for drinking and also made the inside of my cooler smell and feel like a cheap, Greek discotheque. 

On the upside, Katrina made chips and guacamole again for dinner, and I bought extra avocados so we don’t have to stop again tomorrow 😋

Also a win for tonight, we had planned on staying at a state park here in Sardis that would have cost around $14 per night with my discount. We accidentally turned into the wrong campground and ended up staying at the Army Corps of Engineers Campground called Oak Grove (no clue why it’s called that- every tree in this place is a Loblolly Pine 🙃). Each site has water and electric for our fans and phones, a concrete picnic table and benches, a fire ring, barbecue grille with tall concrete bbq table and a lantern hook. With my National Park access pass we paid $9 to stay here tonight. 

$9 also gets us free use of the boat ramps at the dam (upper and Lower lakes), swim beaches and shower house (which we used more than our fair share of hot H2O). 

We sat in our free beach chairs on our paved pad, ate chips and guacamole, played with out cat and dog and had a grand old time. 

Not it’s bedtime and I’m being lulled to bed by the sound of my fans. 

Tomorrow, we hope to make it to Hot Springs, AR. 

We only seem to go there in the summertime. 

I’d love to go when we’d really enjoy hot water. 🙃

Day Two: Noccalula Falls- Gadsden, AL (Day 1, Girls 1)

Two days on the road and it’s already laundry day... we could have gone longer if the two parks we played in today didn’t smell so swampy. Our towels (including Callie’s) all smell like sweaty butt-crack. 

We are in the coolest park tonight and I can’t wait to get pics of the falls tomorrow. 

Our neighbors this evening are a lovely couple in the neatest old Warrior RV. They are a retired couple named Harold and Suzie from Boone, North Carolina and Suzie and I sat and talked forever. I love campgrounds!!  ⛺️ 

Katrina made dinner on the road this evening- homemade guacamole- and she was really excited about it, with ample reason. It was delicious!! We ate two avocados between the two of us (with chips) and I was stuffed. We are not eating out, cooking or buying prepared food (other than the odd rotisserie chicken or lunch meat) as much as possible while traveling. 

We stopped at a darling farm stand in Georgia today and bought two pints of peaches and a quart of the most delicious strawberries I’ve ever eaten, so for lunch we had sliced avocado with lime and pepper, peaches and strawberries and a small 100 calorie pack of raw almonds. 

We also fashioned a harness for Norm tonight ad he seemed to enjoy himself for awhile exploring our campy before deciding he’d rather spend the rest of the night hiding under the truck. 

Perhaps we will make an explorer kitty out of him, yet. 

As of now, we are showered, laundered and plumb tuckered. Tomorrow is another adventure to who-knows-where. Till morrow friends! 😴

Day One: Ass-Kicker, (Day 1, Girls 0)

I’m forty-five years old and I’m lying on an air mattress in the back of a pickup truck under a canvas camper shell as  rain pours down outside. I’m with  my wife, our chihuahua, and our thirty pound black cat in the middle of the woods- by my own choice- and I’m already missing the home I left in Myrtle Beach. 

I’m ecstatic to be on this adventure and to see all of the incredible places we’re visiting, and all of the friends and family that we are finally going to see after two years of my being ill, but after being able to return to Myrtle Beach three months ago, we both realized that, though many of the people we adore are scattered across the country, and even the globe, our hearts and some of our dearest friends are right here in this tacky little beach town. 

So today is Day One of a fourteen-ish week countdown to our return home, and Day One whipped us both like a couple of wet noodles. 

Really, the last week was a frenetic orgy of panic, periodically interspersed with fun visits from friends and nightmare filled night of four-hour sleeps...

The RV is in storage for the next three-and-a-half months (Yes, we put a perfectly good camper in storage to travel the land in the back of a pickup. No, the irony is not lost on us) and the truck is full to overflowing with crap that we think we need for this adventure. 

I won’t be surprised if we make it to Utah and mail stuff to Houston for my Dad to put in the back of the Jeep for storage until August. 

We were supposed to leave MBSP at noon today. We left at 2pm. 

We called ahead yeasterday to make sure the storage place was ready for us. They were yesterday- but today, not so much. 

They fortunately found space for us and I, fortunately, previously drove eighteen wheelers for a living and am an accomplished backer, otherwise we would not have made it into the space the cleared for us. 

It took us about forty-five minutes to secure the camper and attach our hitch platform, cooler, gas can, porta potty and beach chairs to the truck. 

We were hot, hungry, tired and very grumpy.  Neither of us had eaten breakfast this morning and it was now 4:10. 

It was Bo-time! A little Bojangles fried chicken, biscuits and unsweetened iced tea (sweet tea beats all but I’d be as big as South Carolina if I drank it) and everyone was in a good mood again. 

On a separate note: I started sweating today! 

A short explanation- I haven’t sweated since my bone marrow transplant and they said it would take about two years. I’m around eighteen months- Yay! 

You may think not sweating is wonderful- if you live in places like Texas or South Carolina, I can assure you- it is not. It is dangerous and unbelievably limiting and uncomfortable. 

I’m only sweating in my forehead and scalp so far, and it’s not much to speak of, but as summer approaches, it’s a huge relief. 

We knew we wouldn’t make it too far today, so we focused on our South Carolina Ultimate Outsider goal, as we are rapidly approaching our goal and will be completing it before the end of the year.

We made it to Santee State Park around seven tonight and will assuredly be returning for a longer visit in the future. 

Not only are our friends Graylon and Debbie hosting there (we didn’t see them this trip), but this is a gorgeous park. 

Situated on the shores of the enormous 110,000 acre lake Marion, which boasts a mid-lake Cypress forest, it also has yurt-like cabins built out on piers  overlooking the lake. 

It’s absolutely breathtaking and the road into the park is nicer than any SC State Park road I’ve ever seen. I kept teasing Katrina that we must be lost and on the wrong road because this couldn’t possibly be a park road in SC. 

Our next stop, and where we knew we would end up spending the night tonight, was Aiken State Park and we made it here just about 9pm, coincidentally at the same time as the torrential downpour and lightning storm. 

So far, there are only a few things I can tell you about Aiken State Park, since it’s midnight and the rain has just recently stopped and I’m already in bed:

1. It smells like steer manure. I don’t know if it’s proximity to pastureland, a dairy or indicative of the park itself, but it’s awful. 

2. It’s very buggy. This can be said for most inland SC parks in mid-May, so no surprises there. 

3. The campsites are packed sand and are wooded and level.

4. In the dark, the campground slightly resembles Croft State Park in feeling, with a little less charm (I am biased, so please take that into account. 

5. Our site has electric and water, which is nice because we have fans for us and Norm for ventilation. 

Tomorrow, we go to the visitors center and get our stamp and then we will visit Hamilton Branch State Park. Score crossing the border into Georgia. Then we will have to wait until August to finish up our Ultimate Outsider. 

We did see a few interesting gems today in Orangeburg, SC:

1.  Trumps Inn- Read the reviews online. Pretty funny. I’ll say no more. 
2. Git-er-Done Tires- pretty unsurprising in the same town as above...
3. Gagsta Auto Detailing- apparently a town divided. 

Best part of today was after dusk when we saw lightning bugs  in the fields and brush. Katrina calls them ground stars and we haven’t seen them for two years. It was as if they were saying goodbye and reminding us to come home soon.  

Trumps Inn in Orangeburg, SC

Reclaiming Our Humanity...

This is an amazing story I read last year and, even more remarkably, the man who originally posted the 'so-called' humorous photo posted an eloquent and sincere apology to Balpreet and the Sikhs for his insensitivity.

The original story:  http://www.tickld.com

The apology:  http://m.huffpost.com



EDB (Reddit poster and subsequent apologizer) notes that he sought internet kudos for the prank and that it was thoughtless and insensitive.

I realized as I was reading these stories that so much of our lives are lived online these days- it's an instant way to bridge the gap in miles and social structure- and it allows us a more immediate ( albeit sometimes edited) glimpse into each others' day-to-day lives.

For me personally, Facebook has been a remarkable tool to remain in touch with friends, family and 'framily' as we roam.

As happy as I am with my current lifestyle, the road (for me) is not always conducive to fresh human connection- and connections to other member of my species are nourishing to my soul and an integral part of my continued joy and happiness.

Because I am still tethered to a laptop for several hours each day, I am not as free to visit and explore as I would be if I was on vacation or retired, as many others are out here on the road.

I've stated before that I have each foot placed firmly in two vastly different worlds and my fellow occupants in each world find me a bit of an anomaly. I don't fit 'neatly' into a compartment and all humans (myself included) strive to make sense of the world by seeking to understand how each of us 'fits' into the grand scheme of things.

Balpreet, more noticeably than myself, challenges our social understanding- and her reason for doing so is beautiful, profound and elegant.
I admire her greatly, even as I am personally uncomfortable with her appearance- since my first western response is to 'fix' or hide what's an obviously simple hormonal imbalance.

In this day of internet trolling, flouncing and anonymous judgement- its so easy to lose our sense of humanity. We don't often  get the whole picture and we are constantly bombarded by external stimulus, so we touch even the stories that resonate with us very briefly before moving on.  

To be shown gentle humanity is a rare gift in this age and I am grateful for the reminders of how kind we can (and should) be to one another in this uncertain and scary (albeit glorious) world. To rise above the rhetoric and bare ones' soul is a rare talent.

Let's create joy and beauty. Unlike energy, which can neither be created or destroyed, happiness is not finite. There is not a quota that can be reached, upon which, no more happiness can be made.

Truly joyful people know this and understand that the law of averages works in their favor. They know that the more joy you create- the more joy is re-created as it moves forward- growing larger and infecting more people as it goes, until it eventually circles back around and touches you again. This is my kindergarten simile for Karma but it is a valid concept.

Here is a terrific example:  Have you eve been in a bad mood or even a 'blah' mood where you were just going through the motions of your day and then you saw a stranger smile at you, or a child run past with such  innocent/joyous laughter that you couldn't help but smile, too? Did someone 'pay it forward' for you and you felt an immediate desire to do the same?

Don't get me wrong- I have days (blessedly few and far between) where no amount of joy will erase my curmudgeon-ness until I am damn good and ready to be done with it.
But most of the time (since finding my sense of gratitude), a random act of kindness is enough to bouy my spirits and make me want to be a beacon of joy and happiness for my fellow humans.

Let's strive to create as much joy and happiness and peace as we can for our world. Pain and suffering won't cease to exist; society won't ever become a Utopia, but we are building a buffer against pain and sadness, loneliness and despair. We will all experience these things at some point in our lives, but creating abundant joy ensures that there will be a light at the end of the tunnel. In most cases, just when we need to see it...

Peace & Love...  Jenn

Going With the Flow...

Meteorological Spring has almost sprung (a mere day away)- and  I am giddy with the rush of Serotonin and Vitamin D flooding my solar-starved pre-frontal cortex. I extend a warm welcome to my favorite blazing yellow, gaseous ball of  Happiness- Spring Fever is real...

The emergence of  warm weather signals the approaching end of our winter stay in Myrtle Beach. I've spent many blustery winter's nights researching all of the incredible places that we are going for our summer adventure and the itinerary has been tested and retested until it is a beautiful map of exciting destinations and memories.

I've planned every aspect of our trip from top to bottom- from hikes in Yellowstone to how many pairs of socks to pack- no detail, however minute, was left to chance. Except one...

Winter and spring are working months for both of us- Katrina works to provide our rent and utilities and I concentrate on growing my company's business as much as possible so that we can rely on continued revenue all summer as we travel. We scrimp, save and budget all winter so that summer is free from work other than my primary job- which is now on very shaky ground.

Many changes have come to our company and I am unsure how stable my employment may look for the long-term. The thought of being stranded somewhere in the middle of America with no income and no dress clothes makes the prospect of looking for another job quite daunting.
I truly don't want to look for another job- I like the work that I do and I adore the lifestyle in which I am fortunate to live, but that may all change in a moment if my company doesn't survive.

So, responsible adults that we are (stupid adulting...), we've decided to remain in South Carolina this summer. We have many dear friends up in Spartanburg, one of whom has made it possible for us to return to Croft State Park to host all summer and fall.
We will be among cherished friends and close family for six months and we will be stable and secure if the unpleasant occurs.

There is plenty of adventure nearby and short jaunts shouldn't be out of the questions. The van is readily outfitted for long weekends or whatever else we decide (all depends on Katrina's hosting schedule), so we will still be able to enjoy all that the Carolinas,  Georgia and Tennessee have to offer. I've filled many a Pinterest board with  things to do in Confederacy and I hope to have a few checked off by summer's end.

In the meantime, the big trailer beast isn't going into storage as planned- we've found a shipper to move it from Myrtle Beach to Spartanburg for a reasonable price and we will have a spare bedroom free for the taking this summer. We're be a mere four miles from downtown Spartanburg (whose skyline consists of the 'magnificent' Denny headquarters and about 631 two-story churches of various denominations), and we have free run of 7,000 acres of woods, lakes, Quonset huts, a soapstone quarry, a rocky river, cemeteries galore and a maze of various trails- including a mountain bike haven. Plus, all of our friends make excellent campfires...

Our apologies to all who were expecting a visit this summer- we are truly bummed by these lemons but we are trying to make as much ice-cold lemonade as possible. Please pray, meditate, light a candle or dance naked under a full moon (users' choice) for my job situation- whether that means new support internally or a new job altogether- whatever fate decrees.

We would love the company of any wayward adventurers and the beast sleeps eleven if need be. There are even bunks for the kiddos. Come join us under the stars, just don't forget your bug spray...

157 Days

November 1st, 2015

Well, it's over..

Officially, totally, completely over.

Back in May, the summer lay before us like an endless sea of  days, stretched out past the horizon with no end in sight.
Some days, the excitement and anticipation over  the impending trek were almost too much to bear and we were anxious to get on the road, to be on the road, to hurry up and adventure already!

Now, 157 days have passed and the adventure is now just  a memory etched into our heads and hearts.
Who we are is a cumulation of where we've come from, where we've been, what we've been taught and what we've seen as we travel through the Life and Time we are given.
Who I am today is different from who I was 157 days ago, and profoundly different from who I was ten, fifteen, twenty years ago.

The last 157 days have been an incredible gift for me. I had the very unique experience of revisiting people and places from my past in a short span of time, but with a vastly different perspective.
I've learned how to not only take the road less traveled, but also how to really enjoy the beauty and tranquility of a more peaceful, simpler method of travel- not just on the road, but on the road of life, as well.

I am deeply grateful to everyone who shared this journey with us.
Many of you opened your homes (or at least your driveways) to us and helped to shape our memories and experiences.
You met us in parks and restaurants, diners and anywhere else where we could catch up and share a hug.
 You fed us and let us do our laundry and in  a few instances even clothed us (tip o' the nib to Robyn and her Aunt Hazel).

Together, we made memories and forged stronger kinships with one another and I want to thank each of you for making time and space in your lives for us this summer.

Special thanks to:

All of my family
My parents
Shawn & Angela Stewart
Lea Apodaca (thanks for the great advice about Santa Fe & Taos-changed our lives!)
Amy Pritchard & Deo (Centro Pizza, baby!)
Jeffrey Johnson   (and Ico for sharing him with us)
Tasha, Aiden and Dillon Lawson (our closest Framily)
Glenn & Trisia Pickett (and family, including Chupacabra)
Chad & Robyn Sly (and Family)
Martha Amundson (and Lisa the gardener)
Terrie Mathis ( and dear Karen- happy belated 21st)
Jerri Wolder
Lindsey Siebert & Jett Miller (Drive in!)
Cody & Joe (thanks for dinner- TWICE!)
The Crazy Brown Clan (especially those of the Ginger persuasion and their immediate kin)
The Garrison Family (Shirley, you crack me up)
Linda Luckey (with whom I will never eat ice cream or Mexican food ever again)
Katrina's Parents (thanks for the 5am wake ups)
Alex Brown (our most favorite beautiful witch)
Andy & Jay Amacher (some of our favorite neighbors)
Casey & Lacey Jones (for sharing a river and a lot of laughs)
Jimmy and Patricia Seacord and the Cootie Cousins (love you tons more than we will ever show)
Jay and Phyllis Reese (besties!)
Mitch and Dale Neslon-Wilson and darling family
Laura and Puddy ( thanks for the tow... love you two to bits and pieces)

If we missed you this trip, we will be back again next July- albeit for a much shorter visit, PM me if you would like to catch up.


In the meantime, we are home with our Myrtle Beach family and their warm welcome make us feel like total rock stars and warms our hearts. Glad to spend another winter at the beach with wonderful hosts, employees and friends.

I will be posting individual stories from our trip throughout the winter, so please stay tuned for my non sequitor, chronologically inaccurate ramblings from time to time.

Fifty- Four Miles a Day

It's September 9th and the whole summer is behind us now- even Labor Day- and I haven't blogged a word again in months.

I have tons and tons to write about and I have stories galore just waiting to burst forth from my virtual quill, but I haven't written all summer.

Mostly because of work and family/chosen family obligations, but also because I am just having too much fun and I fear that if I stop to catch my breath, then the merriment will cease or I will miss something exciting.

I have all winter to peruse my summer memories and sort them out into fantastical tales to share with my readers. So, until we are firmly ensconced in our seaside winter hideaway, I will share with you some dates and numbers from my summer adventures. You can tell that summer is really at an end when Math again enters your day-to-day life...

Days since official departure: 103

Miles since official departure: 5,513

Average miles per day of trip: 53.52 

Total cost of fuel to date:  $1324 + $129 in fuel treatments (Keeps Vinnie in tip-top shape)

Total Repairs to Date (3/1/15-Present): $2600

Campground Costs:    $659 (including $120 rip-off for crappy hotel in Fort Walton Beach)

Free Camping (The best kind with family and chosen family: 

• 14  nights with Jenn's Dad  (at the free camping pool & spa resort)
• 2 nights with Amy & Deo
• 5 Nights with Tasha, Aiden & Dillon
• 1 night at Tony & Sheila's (traded babysitting for a tasty meal, favorite dessert and driveway surfing
• 4 nights at Office (Shower, kitchen, shady willow tree and nosey-good-for-nothing-neighbors)
• 4 nights at Katrina's parents' (5:30 am water aerobics every day- jury is still out on this one :-))
• 3 nights at Echo Island Campground (Labor Day mini-cation courtesy of above in-laws)
• 32 nights at Chad & Robyn's

Parked at Chad & Robyn's

That last number isn't a typo- we have such amazing friends, most of whom offered repeatedly for us to surf their drives (Glenn and Trisia- you're on our list for next year- we can't wait to hang out longer next time), but our dear chosen family of Chad and Robyn allowed us to surf their drive (plugged in most of the time) for a whopping month- in the middle of which we were gallivanting all over the Beehive visiting. 

They helped us clean our storage unit, store some tubs until next year and all- around just wanted to hang out with us and never got sick of us, the dog or even the cats. 

It's been the best summer of my life so far and I am so grateful to all of the folks who got to spend time with us. 

Parked in front of the In-Law's

If we missed you, please email me- I truly want to see everyone- all of my friends and the incredible people who make my life so colorful. I love seeing everyone on Facebook and watching your families grow and I want to catch up when we come back next July. 

Until next time... Ciao for now!

Emerald Coast Crazy Making

So, with a bushel of peaches between us, we meander down to Florida’s Gulf Coast.

We plan on spending a couple of days wandering along US Highway 98 starting at Panama City Beach all the way to Mobile, Alabama.  There are some fantastic state parks and a handful of beach towns that influenced me a great deal while growing up.

Destin Beach, was a family favorite for years, most of my summertime memories are split between my grandparents in Salt Lake City and our little beach condo in Destin.  We stayed at the Holidome for years, until they opened SunDestin  in 1985, where you could buy a condo and rent it out for most of the year to pay your mortgage while saving the prime dates for your own personal retreat, or you could rent aforementioned condo for a week or two at premium prices.

There wasn’t much to do in Destin back in those days, except play at the beach or at the tacky Big Kahuna water park across the street- not that we minded hanging out at the beach all day and all night. That was always perfectly fine by me.

Flash forward 27 years to major freneticism…

From Panama City Beach all the way to Gulf Shores, the summer crowds fill the newly paved and widened streets, which are flanked on both sides by brand new shopping malls and master planned inclusive communities, major resort hotel chains with architecture to rival that of Vegas. Anything and everything that one could want is crammed into every possible open space, all competing for your attention (and dollars), while crowding out the ocean views and powdery white sand.

There was not a single space at any RV park or campground to be had for sixty miles. It was hot and muggy and threatening to rain, which meant that, not only would we be hot, sticky and uncomfortable while boondocking (sleeping in your RV or camper in a spot- usually at a Walmart or truck stop- while not plugged into shore power. In other words, no A/C), but there was a likely chance that we would have to either close our windows and nearly suffocate if it started to rain, or risk soaking all of our bedding in the downpour.

So, while only the second day into our RV adventure, we gave in and found a shitty beach motel that had one vacancy (it was also Friday night- the third one of the summer- great timing) for the low, low price of $120.  When we pulled into our parking space, the neighbor in the next room, was sitting out on the sidewalk, drinking beer and throwing trash into the bay to see if he could make it from his seat to the water. He was also yelling at his girlfriend about pizza, and  he had a stack of cans  as a testament to how long he had been drinking.

The motel was shabby and run down, but, to it’s credit, the sheets and bedding were clean and new, if nothing else in the room was. There was also a large raptor feather tucked lovingly into the lights above the mirror- we don’t know to this day if some kid found a Pelican feather and forgot about it when they checked out, or if it was some kind of ritualistic symbolism. All I know is that it was the first time I ever slept in a hotel room with a pelican feather.

Shitty hotel room in Ft. Walton Beach

Eager to get the hell out of the craziness of the Gulf  Coast, we made a bee line for Gulf Shores and turned inland to Foley, AL in a bid to hit Mobile before dark. The heat and humidity were unbearable and between the terrible crowds and  stifling weather, we never once managed to put a toe to ocean. We just moved into survival mode and ran for solid ground.

We did enjoy some parts of the coast and I asked Katrina to allow us to visit again when the weather and the crowds were both more manageable.

We did notice that our coach A/C- which we had promised to use for only emergencies in a bid to save gas and keep us acclimated to the outside temperatures so that we could boondock more comfortably (a notion that lasted 36 hours into the trip)- was not as cold as it was earlier in the day. I remembered the previous owner warning me that the coach A/C needed to be charged once in a while. He had it checked out and swore that there was no leak, but we would need to get some XYZ123 (R134) once a summer to charge it. Since I never planned to use the A/C, because air conditioning is for wussies, I brushed aside the thought.

We found an auto parts store and ($50 later) had the XYZ123 (R134) canister and  doohickey (charging system) in hand, we charged the system all by ourselves. The helpful employee mentioned that the compressor was charged because the conduction hose (uh-huh?) was cold, but he noticed that the Schrader valve was leaking (yes, of course, the shredder bulb is leaking, yes…) and would just need to be replaced to stop the leak, which was very slow and nothing to worry about anyway.

Savvy Mechanic...

He also mentioned that we should have the A/C on Max setting  for the first few minutes to cool the cab down enough for the A/C not to labor… I have literally lived without A/C for the last four years and completely forgot about MAX. I had it on bi-level in 101 degree heat because I wanted it to blow on my feet to keep the cat under my driver’s seat cold- yes, I have a cat under my seat at all times while driving… and he needs to be cool… he’s fat and black and he pants when he gets too hot, so I have it on bi-level, dammit…

We decided (now that we were cool and comfortable) to catch up with US 98 again and drive around Point Clear, through Fairhope and into Mobile, AL.  Katrina was never really keen on the drive through Mobile, but after twenty-two years together, I wanted to share with her a part of my history from before we met. I know so much about her youth and childhood, simply because we’ve lived less than 30 miles from her childhood homes for most of our marriage, and I wanted those fragmented pieces of my life BK (my own take on the Greco-Roman calendar) to finally fall into place as shared experiences.

I am so glad that she agreed to see Fairhope and Mobile because, much to our mutual shock, she was enchanted by both communities.

Fairhope is a well-to-do, resort  style area in Baldwin County, across the bay from Mobile, and many of the elite live over there, in large homes with well-manicured lawns. But the town proper and the neighborhood surrounding it, are much like St. Augustine or Park City- clean, artsy shops set in a beautiful outdoor setting flanked by historic homes.

There are wide sidewalks and biking trails everywhere- which is weirdly one of Katrina’s most adamant requirements for our next city to settle in. There must be sidewalks and easy-to-use multi purpose paths around the city. It’s the one things that keeps Myrtle Beach from the top of her list and, as much as she loves it there, the lack of user-friendly (meaning, that the walkways go somewhere that you actually want to go) walkways are at the very top of her cons list for Myrtle Beach.

Mobile has changed a great deal in the last twenty-three years, but the historic district is still charming, if a bit more run-down than I remembered. I lived in four places in three years in Mobile, and we visited them all, one by one.

The house where I lived on Dauphin Street. it's now a law office.

The visit for me was surreal, because my memories were selective and established- meaning that, in my mind, nothing had changed in 23 years and the day-to-day details of life in Mobile had become hazy and indistinct. I knew that Mobile had changed- cities change drastically in as little as six months- but with no frame of reference, I had no concept for what that entailed.

Changing the neural pathways of memory is an uncomfortable, if fascinating experience. I kept marveling at things I had forgotten about or remembered incorrectly- or simply remembered differently at nineteen versus what I perceived at forty-two. The trip created a mental conundrum in my head that was kind of cool to witness, first-hand.  Feeling my mind sort and assimilate the new sensory information on such a large scale was titillating. I felt my perception change a little bit  and I am grateful to have shared that experience with Katrina.

Next episode: Chickasabogue; Instinct on the Atchafalaya, and the rest of the Gulf Coast… 

As I write this, we are about four weeks into our trip, and I have only one measly blog post to my credit in the last month. 

I promised myself and you, our readers, an update at least once a week and I have been negligent in my duties.

In preparation for our trip, we spent 10 days at Jenn's mom's house near Asheville, North Carolina. 

During that time, we were able to prepare the van for the trip, check the tires again, put the jeep in storage, and properly outfit our feet for a summer of fun hiking.

Once we were ready to leave, we decided to stick to Shunpiking for as much of our route as possible. 

What is Shunpiking, you might ask?

Shunpiking is a method of travel in which you avoid major interstates and highways as much as possible during your trip. This method of travel allows for a richer experience and slower pace than typical travel involving interstate highways. 

Never having attempted a cross-country trip of this type using this method before, I was unprepared for how enjoyable traveling in this manner would be. I am now loathe to use the interstate even if it's convenient. 

When you carry your house on your back like a snail, taking the road less traveled becomes less of an inconvenience and more of a pleasure.

We fell in love with many small towns in South Carolina and Georgia, most notably was Greenwood, South Carolina – a town that I fervently hope to return to in the future.

The town is host to a myriad of creative topiary sculptures- ala' Edward Scissorhands. There's even a 3-D jeep topiary with plants inside on the bench seat.
We spent our first night Boondocking at the Walmart parking lot in Athens, GA. We were planning on turning south towards Macon, but the navigator wasn't accustomed to Shunpiking and either she or the driver missed a crucial step in the directions. We still had a lovely time and we're glad to have spent the night in the hometown of the B-52's. There's even a State Farm insurance agent named Rhett Butler in Georgia- which just tickled my funny bone. 

We got up fairly early (for us), laid out our yoga mats in the shaded parking space beside our van, and did our morning routine. Doing yoga in a Walmart parking lot was a first for us and I'm sure we ended up on someone's Twitter feed. 

We headed out on our first full day of travel, and before we had gone 10 miles, found a roadside stand selling Georgia peaches. We had bought a bag of peaches in Myrtle Beach that were hard as a rock, and were assured by the farmer that they would ripen nicely – which they never did before rotting completely. We bought a full bushel of peaches and a jar of mixed berry jam for peanut butter sandwiches every day for lunch. I think we each ate 4 to 6 peaches a day until they were all gone. Some days, we would eat the peaches for lunch and save the peanut butter sandwiches for dinner. Food is secondary to travel sometimes. Other times, they go together like a hand in a glove. 

Next post, Panama City Beach, Destin, and the frenetic energy of the Gulf Coast.

Van GoGo Dancing Duo????

The Van Goings?
The Van Gone's?

Well, we've gotten some feedback about our last blog post and some people loved the new proposed blog name while others have struggled with it because of the pronunciation. We've talked with some friends and we've discussed options privately and we have some additional proposals for the new blog before making an official change.
We are trying to keep in mind that we want the blog to reflect the lifestyle that we are currently trying to lead. We realized in undertaking this endeavor, that many dreams have an expiration date – something that I had not really thought about prior to this project.
Most of you know that we've been leaning towards this lifestyle for several years now- I loved the idea of van life life long before we really got into RVing. I always had my van and I thought it would be really neat to live and travel something that was so easy to get around with. Once we started talking about living in RV full-time, the idea of living in a van never really crossed either of our minds.  There's a general connotation associated with people who live in vans- either that they're homeless and don't have an alternative, or that there're fringe dwellers who live apart from the structure and normalcy of polite society, or lastly, that they're twenty-something skier/snowboarders/rock climbers/adrenaline junkies who are living this way for an undetermined period of time until they "grow up" a bit.

While we never really fit into any of the above categories- we realize that we really wanted something affordable, easy to maneuver, comfortable and (most importantly) paid for.
We realize that 10 years from now when we are in our early 50s, we're likely not going to want to continue traveling in this manner, so we realized that this dream had an expiration date that was fast approaching.

Not willing to sacrifice a dream such as this, we decided to take the plunge sooner rather than later. Since coming east we have not done as much traveling as we had initially hoped, and we really wanted to catch the travel fever before we settled into complacency.

Let us know what you think of the above proposed changes or message us with ideas of your own.

Two days until official lift off!!!

Well, we are eight weeks or so into our newest adventure in our smallest RV ever. In just a few short weeks we will be on the road beginning a trip that we've never attempted before. We have until the end of October to gallivant as slowly or quickly across the country as we'd like. Thus far, we have 14 states on our summer itinerary. We have no intention of utilizing interstate travel if we can avoid it, and we have limited schedules in mind. Our goal this summer is first and foremost to clean out our storage unit in Utah, so that we have one less tie to tell the rest. In addition to frame up our minds and our space, we would like to also focus on building our travel network. We intend to blog more regularly ( a vow that I have broken to myself more times than I care to admit), take more pictures, and have more adventurous than we have in the recent past. If you have something you would like to see, perhaps a video tour of our new space or if you have questions that you would like answered, please let us know.

Additionally, we are thinking of changing the name of our blog. Since we no longer reside in a "tin can", we feel that perhaps the blog title is inappropriate to our current lifestyle. We have come up with a blog name that is an appropriate haplology of words that we think are well-suited to our current lifestyle. The downside to our proposed blog name is that the primary word is not a common word in popular culture. Eleutheromania is the nearly obsessive pursuit of freedom which we feel is appropriate to our current mindset. Since we are also really lovey-dovey,  our idea for our new blog name is "The Eleutheromantics". It also looks really cool because it looks like an homage to Annie Lennox.

Let us know what you think of the proposed name change, we really value your feedback, and we promise to start posting more interesting content frequently.

My friend Eric posted this to Facebook from a Robert Kirby archive in the Salt Lake Tribune:

For the uninitiated: Robert Kirby is a columnist for the SL Tribune, a practicing Mormon, and one of the few publicly VOCAL questioners of the Mormon faith from within the church fold. There are PLENTY of detractors outside of the LDS faith, but the church is (argue if you will) notorious for shaming and excommunicating members who too often publicly display “significantly questionable faith”.

 If you make it all the way to the end of this diatribe, I have an interesting personal tidbit on why EVERYONE of EVERY BELIEF should feel free and supported to question any doctrine respectfully.   

This is an edited version of the original article: 

Here's another important gospel question for people of "only one way" faiths.

How much does your unshakable faith comfort you in moments of genuine pain and uncertainty about eternity? A lot? Some? Only a little? Not a bit?

Now the question. Is your religious faith ever a major factor in causing that pain? Is there a time when what you believe isn't a comfort and, in fact, actually makes things worse?

For example, suppose a son — let's call him Buddy — you raised to be a devout Latter-day Saint, a superstar kid through Primary, Boy Scouts, a mission, etc., suddenly announces that he's an atheist? And he's not kidding.

Not only is Buddy now an atheist, so is his new wife. Furthermore, all of your grandchildren from them will be reared as atheists.

I'm not picking on atheists here. I could have used Buddhists, Muslims, Jews, Democrats and anything else that puts a loved one crossways to your core beliefs.

I'm also not singling out sons. The person in question could be your father, your spouse, a sister, a daughter, a best friend or anyone else you hope to see in heaven when you get there.

In every other regard, Buddy is still the same kid you raised. He's happy, smart, loving and even respectful of your beliefs.

Does your faith make you feel better about him, or is your belief in your theology a constant source of worry and sorrow for you now?

Hey, Buddy's not following the plan. He's going to hell (or wherever true believers like you don't go). There, he'll either sulk forever that he's no longer welcome at eternal family reunions, or every morning his entrails will be torn out again and used to floss Satan's teeth. Anyway, it will be bad.

But let's not worry about forever. Let's stick with right now. Do you believe you're so right about Buddy's new godless situation that it detracts from a healthy and loving relationship in the here and now?

Every time you look at Buddy now does your unshakable faith automatically remind you that he's doomed, that this theological rift is so important that mostly you just feel sorry for him and sorrier for yourself?

Maybe you've decided to grudgingly accept this "lesser" Buddy for who he is now out of the goodness of your heart; that if you can't love him the way your faith mandates, you can at least tolerantly pity him in a Christ-like way.

If so, consider the very real possibility that you're an idiot. First for letting theology get in the way of love, and second for believing in a plan/god/spirit that would condemn Buddy for being a wonderful human being but unfortunately, not a believer.

This also applies to nonbelievers who so firmly suppose they're smarter than believers that they can't relate to their loved ones anymore either.

Religion (or whatever you choose to call it) isn't just divisive because we exclude and sometimes even kill one another over it. It's also great at silently torturing loving relationships to death. ~Robert Kirby~

Okay: So here is my juicy parable- It's known in Psychology as the Pot Roast Principle and the story goes something like this:

A young woman is preparing a pot roast while her friend looks on.  She cuts off both ends of the roast, prepares it and puts it in the pan.  “Why do you cut off the ends?” her friend asks.  “I don’t know”, she replies.  “My mother always did it that way and I learned how to cook it from her”.

Her friend’s question made her curious about her pot roast preparation.  During her next visit home, she asked her mother, “How do you cook a pot roast?”  Her mother proceeded to explain and added, “You cut off both ends, prepare it and put it in the pot and then in the oven”.    “Why do you cut off the ends?” the daughter asked.  Baffled, the mother offered, “That’s how my mother did it and I learned it from her!”

Her daughter’s inquiry made the mother think more about the pot roast preparation.   When she next visited her mother in the nursing home, she asked, “Mom, how do you cook a pot roast?”   The mother slowly answered, thinking between sentences.  “Well, you prepare it with spices, cut off both ends and put it in the pot”.     The mother asked, “But why do you cut off the ends?”     The grandmother’s eyes sparkled as she remembered.   “Well, the roasts were always bigger than the pot that we had back then.  I had to cut off the ends to fit it into the pot that I owned”.

If we never question doctrine, we may well find out that we've created already outdated gospel to address an ever-changing world. I know that there are those of you out there who believe that the word of the Bible is the end all, be all for time and eternity- and there are those who believe that God sent an updated version of the Bible 2.0 in the form of the LDS Scriptures.

Both of these beliefs are fine and dandy if they get you through the day- but even the Mormons believe that they can still receive 'updates', in the form of Divine Revelations, to further clarify ambiguous texts of the past as they apply to today's world.

 Frankly, the Mormons are far more forward thinking in my mind, than the religions that believe that the Bible holds every answer to every question that will ever be asked from the beginning of Humanity to present- yet still eat shellfish, wear Rayon and don't own slaves or beat their wives for back-talk. 

The Carl Sagan quote, “If it can be destroyed by the truth, it deserves to be destroyed by the truth", should absolutely hold true for any belief that a human dares to pin the entire context of his or her life upon.

Katrina and I were speaking on this subject the other day and discussing how many people (not all) spend this lifetime as holier than thou, sanctimonious assholes- in the belief that they are going to be Gods of their own worlds in the after-life (LDS belief), or sit on a golden cloud in a perpetual fit of bliss for eternity (general Christianity?.

They can be judgmental, condescending, homophobic, self-serving, misogynistic abusers of humanity and the environment, simply because they focus on an archaic text that tells them to look to the heavens and their eyes are on the spectral promise of an eternal afterlife.

But what if they're wrong? 

American Muscle, Detroit Gold & Saying Goodbye

My family made a very difficult decision a few weeks ago to say goodbye to a long-cherished 'family member'.

Daisy has been in my family since 1965, when she was purchased new by my eldest aunt in New York in 1966. She is a 1965 Ford Galaxie 500 convertible.

 

 She lived in California for many years and she is the vehicle that I first saw the original Muppet Movie in at a San Diego drive-in during the summer of 1979 with my cousin Ernie Scholz- we were six years old at the time.

She came to live with my dad in Texas about a dozen years ago, as we wanted her to remain in the family.

My dad and I have worked on her carburetor, washed her, waxed her and enjoyed long drives in her. She was intended to be an early inheritance at some point, as she held many fond memories and is a gorgeous piece of industrial art.

Several months ago, my dad asked me if I was ready for my inheritance and could I make the necessary accommodations for her. We discussed options back and forth and Katrina and I decided that our present lifestyle was not the most suitable situation for maintaining a classic car and that the storage and maintenance expense would be significant and would likely require us to go back to a more traditional lifestyle that we no longer desire and possibly couldn't afford comfortably long-term.

We shared our concerns with Dad, who was very supportive and understanding and we decided to pursue other options for Daisy.

This week, Daisy joined the extensive Gullo Ford Family Museum collection, where she will be on display for the enjoyment of many for decades to come. If you ever have a chance to visit the collection, please say hello to her from us. It's not often that a family heirloom finds its way to a museum in your lifetime.

As sad as it is to see Daisy go, we know she is well cared for and loved.

'Hippie Van' now takes the lead as the patriarchal vehicle in the Holt family as he enters his fortieth year and possibly the half-a-million mile mark one day soon. He has not been driven much in the last fifteen years and his newly rebuilt engine and transmission should help to change that very soon.

In the meantime, I am keeping up the family tradition with Molly (Jeep), as she prepares to celebrate her 25th year this July. My dad and I drove to my hometown of Cocoa Beach, Florida on July 14th, 1990 to pick her up. I was seventeen.

I am reminded in writing this that many of my fondest memories with my dad revolve around these and other vehicles. His passion for collecting and maintaining his very own 'pieces of industrial art' have always been a part of our relationship, and washing the cars every Saturday was a childhood ritual that I will never forget. He taught me how to change my own oil and tires, lube a chassis and gap a spark plug.

 He knows the answer to any and every mechanical question there is to ask about any internal combustion or nuclear powered engine ever manufactured.  He can look at four square inches of a fender, bumper or tail fin and tell you the year make and model of any car built after 1950. He owns every issue of Car and Driver and Motor Trend since 1969. He has one hobby and one passion and he’s dedicated a lifetime to honing his expertise because he is simply overcome with curiosity about all things automotive.

We bought my first car before I was even old enough for a driving permit- a neglected '78 T-bird that had sat for years in a field in Virginia. We spent two years rebuilding the engine (using the onion skin manual that my dad ordered from Ford for $100) and polishing off the oxidation until she shone. I owned that T-bird for fourteen years and more than 260,000 miles. She drove from Texas to Alabama, Oklahoma, all over Florida and the southeast, and she towed my worldly possessions from Alabama to Utah as I fled an abusive relationship and a case of bronchitis so severe that my dad ended up driving me from Houston to Salt Lake City at a moment’s notice while I slept fitfully and heavily medicated most of the way.

My own Detroit fascination is homage to him and a continuing tribute to the amazing man who has skillfully shaped and continues to influence my life today. 

One More Reason That My Wife Is Totally Awesome

This morning before work, I was goofing around on the computer and trying to clean out my email and FB notifications. I subscribe to several deal sites like Brad's Deals and Living Social, and I saw an intriguing ad for a waterproof wireless shower speaker with a really funny video ad.

Basically, this dorky guy is trying to be studly and sexy in the video (and he knows that he isn't), and is talking about how many and heavy metal this speaker is... Cut to a silhouette of him laying in the tub with candles and bubbles listening to "On the Wings of Love" while turning on the water with his big toe. It was fairly amusing.

Anyway, Katrina is flitting around making our breakfast shakes and lemon tea and isn't really paying attention to me. About 20 minutes later, while I am washing dishes, I start belting out a comedically off-key rendition of 'On the Wings of Love', to which Katrina stops short and gives me this really odd look.

"What's wrong?" I say, genuinely concerned that she, after all these years, suddenly thinks this is my real singing voice.

"That's SO weird. I was JUST thinking that song in my head." She sort of tilts her head speculatively.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"Well, I knew that is was just a matter of time before I developed super powers", she replies with a straight face, "I just sort of hoped that it would be either magic or the ability to fly, but I guess mind control is pretty good, too."

 She laughs and then says, "Please tell me that we recently heard that song before I think that we're now sharing one brain or something..."

And THAT is one of the many reasons that my wife is freaking awesome. Super powers- her totally rational explanation for the not-easily-explainable. That, or a Vulcan mind meld...

God, I love this girl!

The Space Between

I have not updated in months, because it was just too difficult to follow the timeline that I was trying to maintain, but I am overflowing with thought and I need to share!!! So here's my latest (totally random) blog:

I am sitting at a picnic table in front of my RV, less than ten feet from a roaring campfire, in an insanely popular and lovely state park- and I’m pensive.

We have new neighbors this evening- from Pennsylvania- and they've commented, as have many others, how young we are compared to other hosts they've encountered. A common conversation thread includes:

·         You must love it- no responsibilities, fun all the time, just playing.

·         You must travel all over. I’ll bet you’re never in the same place for any length of time.

And most commonly (and obviously),

·         How?

We've been full-timing for a year-and-a-half, and traveling for about 7 of those months, and as I ‘settle’ into the ‘reality’ of living this way, I have begun to develop an awareness of the uniqueness of our particular circumstance.

Most of our friends and family are ‘stick and brickers’- that is, the majority of their lives are lived in a perma-structure of stick and brick creation. Some of them may be weekend campers or RVers, but their modular existence is in the nature of recreation, so when they are in their RV’s or tents, they are usually pursuing other entertainments or activities and are using the modular structure as a ‘hotel room’ to further enjoy their outdoor activities.

Some of our family and friends (Katrina’s parents and our camp hosting friends from Croft) are ‘full-timer lites’- when they RV, it’s often for months or seasons at a time, but they still have S&B homes and in the cases of all of our Croft friends, at least one spouse still works at a job that he/she must physically show up for most weekdays. These folks understand our hopes and dreams, because many of them share a similar vision, but they still have the ties that anchor them to ‘respectable’ society. In other words, most people don’t view them as fringe-ists or as completely unhinged- just slightly eccentric.

Lastly, there are the other full-timers that we know- The first group of folks are our friends from Salt Lake in the “RV Pit”, who are mostly just young families and folks our age struggling to live in an economically challenging situation and trying valiantly to get back into ‘respectable’ living.

The second group of full-timers are the retired camp hosts that we meet at the parks where we volunteer. Almost without exception (a widow, widower and single older lady not yet retired) all of the hosts are retired couples with big rigs and guaranteed income just looking to travel and stretch their accommodations dollar as far as it will go.  They are the appropriate age and demographic  to make vagabonding socially acceptable.

Enter the Brolts (my amusing haplology of our last names- kind of like Brangelina, but classier). We don’t smoothly fit into the niches of polite society- we aren't retired in our big rig, we don’t have a ‘settled’ place to return to (an ideal that my mother frets herself into foaming fits over- repeat five times fast)  and we’re not transitioning between the two.

We’re a bit of a conundrum. This entire issue really lies with me- someone from one side (an S&Ber, for example) will make a comment- perhaps about how lucky we are to be on a lark and just enjoying no responsibility- and it will irk me no end.

Do you really think that I have no responsibilities whatsoever?

How do you think I support myself and my wife, pay my bills and put food on the table?

Feed my cats?

Buy gas?

Repair Justin the Behemoth Beaver?

Buy awesome shit that I can’t live without?

So I sit in front of a campfire and ponder my life. I think about an internet meme that I once saw that depicted a vignette about Lesbians. I’ll include it below because it succinctly illustrates my next point (please don’t be offended at the slightly risqué- ness of it- I didn't create it)

So, off-color though it may be, the above is a good generalization of my current challenge. S&Bers think that we’re just hanging around the campfire all of the time, doing nothing; and the retired folk/Lites, wonder why we’re always inside on the computer working instead of out by the campfire like them.

It’s like we’re in RV purgatory…