Mornings

Drove the housemate to the airport at 3:00 a.m. Tuesday, grateful it was less than 30 minutes away, unlike the 90-minute one-way airport runs from where I lived in Ohio. Up this early often jumpstarts a productive day, unless the inevitable napisodes later on interrupt the flow.

Driving back home in the pitch-black darkness, on a mostly deserted Interstate highway, I was thinking how much I love early, pre-dawn mornings: the quiet, the solitude, the chance to be alone with thoughts, and the comforting sense in these hours before daybreak that this new day brings possibilities and fresh starts.

Certainly this bizarre behavior and infatuation with rising so early, some might think, is merely an artifact of getting older. My younger self remembers witnessing very few sunrises, unless I’d already been up all night (ahem… college days, people, college days).

During my 2019 solo RV travels, making coffee and fixing breakfast early as the dawn broke, was close to a religious experience for me. Such starts felt like homage to the universe for allowing me to travel and roam. In the mountains, by a beach, or in a flat, viewless forested campground, many of my days back then began with this ritual. I’d usually follow with some morning pages journaling, then take a brief, brisk walk as nature’s light slowly revealed the world from the confusion of darkness into sunshine and clarity.

Now such moments consist of coffee and thoughts, sunrises slowly illuminating the world I contemplate outside my breakfast room, while wondering what this fresh day will bring.

• 

  Florida

• 

  Ohio

---

Subscribers and Supporters greatly help my commitment to full-time writing. They never miss a new post or newsletter since they receive fresh emails when published. These encouraging souls remind me there are readers out there I’m writing for, and that awareness helps me create new content every day.

For those who can help a bit more, the cost of a cup of coffee each month covers becoming a Supporter. This helps defray my site’s cost while further supporting my indie writing and publishing efforts. Supporters receive extra benefits, including exclusive chapters from my two upcoming books plus the final, completed PDF versions. They also can access a growing set of journey portfolios: stunning photos of places I’ve traveled (e.g., Hawaii, Ireland, etc.). I’ll be adding more Supporter benefits in the months ahead.

Travels in Tamasté – Interactive Map

I realized after I removed the sidebar’s interactive map of my RV travels that I forgot to post a final version of it. So here it is. Use this link to visit the map (click SHOW MAP after the jump), then click on spots, etc.

Note that the mileage shown on the detail places list is waaaay off. I logged a bit more than 20,000 miles during my year of travels in Tamasté.

Last Voyage

Currently in the rain and cold (but comfy with the Truma heat going) at a campground in Van Buren, Ohio on leg one of my last voyage in Tamasté. I’m on my way down to South Carolina to hand him over to his new, adopting parents. Happy to report they are as excited to start their Travato adventures as I was a year ago this month when I picked up Tamasté from Lichtsin RV in Iowa.

It’s been a lot of fun and saw a great deal of this beautiful country in the year I wandered about in this Travato. Bittersweet for sure, but eager for the adventures ahead living in Ann Arbor, MI, with more travels in my sights (albeit not in a fully, self-sufficient rolling wonder that is a Travato).

The new parents will, undoubtedly, meet some wonderfully Travato owners as I have, some of whom I now consider long-term friends. All in all, I set out to accomplish a few things on this year of wandering and just about did them all. Only thing missing was visiting some natural places out West, and those I’ll still get to eventually, but in the more conventional way of traveling.

So to all those in the Travato tribe I’ve met along the road, I want to say thank you. You made this a special year I won’t soon forget. They say memories are a comforting blanket as we age, and this year has provided much warmth for those reflective years ahead.

A Necessary Pause: Full-Time to Part-Time

After my restart back on the road full-timing, I experienced some further issues that made me head back to the Midwest for more advanced healthcare support. This time, I connected to the University of Michigan’s famed cardiology center in Ann Arbor for a round of “what’s going on” tests.

Happy to report I aced all tests and no issues with my thumper or its body-wide system. So the unsettling symptoms experienced in the wild–not a good place to be feeling poorly in mysterious ways–are not cardiac or related to the June stent. I believe, however, I’ve identified the culprit.

All that sums up to deciding to stop traveling for a while and take time to resolve the off-and-on-again nagging thing. That, plus winter is coming–my least favorite travel season (but a forever, memorable phrase from Game of Thrones). As an added bonus, staying in one place for six months should help me to catch up on writing projects including finishing two books in progress.

The decision to winter in Ann Arbor was not an easy one, but I have a friend here I can stay with comfortably plus a great, nearby RV storage place. For now, Tamasté’s parked (other than two short day trips per month to keep things working) until I travel west in March.

Some would say the phrase “wintering in Ann Arbor” brings shivers, and yes, it’s not as nice as saying “wintering in Barbados,” but it’s the place I need to be for all the reasons above and more. Ann Arbor has always been at the top of my list of landing spots after full-time nomadic RV traveling is over, so this is also a chance to test winter here (as a retiree who won’t have to get out when it’s nasty I’m hoping that will make it tolerable).

Now that I’m settled in my rented room, set up with my former writing studio’s books, supplies, dictionary stand, and such, I feel jazzed to get the work done. It’s nice to be pampered by space and essentials too. Funny, but fellow Travato traveler and writer Sarah hit the same notes when she posted about the experience of extended house sitting after traveling…the full kitchen, showers without timing the water running, real beds, couches, etc., all a siren song of civilized (nay, decadent!) living.

Nomadic traveling has its soul-satisfying reasons to be out there, but hard to beat…for now…a big refrigerator and pantry-a-plenty, washer and dryer, and access to the arts and culture that Ann Arbor offers daily.

Where the Tribe is Family

What did we do back in pre-Internet, pre-Facebook days to mingle with others who have similar interests? We formed face-to-face clubs and gatherings to share tips, tricks, and discuss the joy of delving deep into a hobby or shared interests.

Fast forward to now, add Facebook groups and the Internet and bonds of common interest form quickly and start virtually. The RV community at large is no different, with more special-focus Facebook Groups on specific models, brands, and even aspects of the RV culture and roaming lifestyle available on just about any related topic.

But beyond the virtual knowledge sources, in the Travato world we have the Travato Tribe. Like my old days of sport cars and when passing a Porsche on the road, we’d wave at each other in that secret club sort of wave, Travato owners do similar acknowledgements and tend to approach each other, though complete strangers initially, in parking lots and at campgrounds. What usually ensues is a lively discussion of issues, improvements, places visited, and a new friendship is started. I’ve met complete strangers driving Travatos who after the conversation offered me their driveway for the night should I ever pass their way.

In my current Travato travels, I’ve had the pleasure of attending several meet-ups, from informal groups of 4 to 5 vans to an Arizona rally in March with 100 Class B Vans (of which about 90 were Travatos). At such events, everyone seems to instantly be your friend, and you typically drive away after the rally with a handful of new, close friends and lots of driveway camping offers. Sharing food, parts, mods (owner-installed improvements), invaluable tips on places to stay (and where not to), and the ever-appreciated intelligence on free dump sites and where to get fresh water, are some of the tribe bonuses beyond the friendships.

Wandering the country as I am in this self-contained, mostly self-reliant camper van, I can certainly travel and discover things on my own. But having the Travato Tribe and its hive wisdom makes this experience all the better and open doors and location knowledge more than I ever would on my own. And I’m happy to report the tribe’s provided a slew of new friends who would give me the shirt off their back, as the saying goes, if needed.

Wisdom says it takes a village to raise a child, and similarly my nomadic experience is all the better having the Travato Tribe to learn from and connect with. As I head out on an extended nomadic period of traveling America today, I will likely stay at numerous Travato Tribe driveways across the country. This tribe is my support family, no matter where I roam in my Travato.

Coffee and Sunrise

One of the more pleasant solitary acts, whether at home or living nomadically, is rising early before the dawn, fixing a cup of fresh coffee, then sitting back to await the sunrise and the promise of a new day. The stillness and quiet of this moment is pure joy.

Success, I once heard someone say, is waking up still above the ground each day. A bit morbid, but to the point that each day we greet is a personal success, so why not salute the orange orb in the sky as it peeks out through the trees in its ascent to warm and light our world?

Solitude

Alone one is never lonely: the spirit adventures, waking
In a quiet garden, in a cool house, abiding single there;
…
There is no place more intimate than the spirit alone:
It finds a lovely certainty in the evening and the morning.

– Canticle 6, May Sarton

Among the first questions people ask when learning I’m a solo nomadic is “Don’t you get lonely?” or “How do you cope with loneliness?”

Truth is, I only think about these concepts when someone asks about them, so for me it’s a “no” to both questions. To understand my response, you need to know I’m a natural introvert who’s learned to be an extrovert on demand. When interactions overload the senses, then I need space and quiet to reflect and think, to be alone.

For someone like me, solo traveling in my RV is an ideal lifestyle, one where I can occasionally enjoy face-to-face socializing yet on the whole, have plenty of alone time to reflect, to write, to think. When living in a city, this seemed only possible when retreating inside of a house’s four walls. In my rolling RV home, I can move on down the road or find a secluded camp site in nature and spend hours or days in solitude.

Exploring Hueco Tanks State Park, Texas

Probably the least understood need by introverts is for time alone. Often judged as unsociable or unfriendly, it’s really how we recharge our batteries so we can endure (and mostly enjoy) encounters and interactions with others. One good example happens during Travato meet ups (a three+ day get together of Travatos anywhere from six vans to a hundred or more), the Travato tribe accepts it if one occasionally retreats to the van for several hours versus hanging out constantly around the fire, on the porch, or wherever the active social circle. This behavior, at least in my experience, is not as accepted in the business world, thus the need for introverts to develop the ability to toggle extrovert mode on demand, akin to role playing or method acting I suppose.

The reality of today’s connected world means none of us are truly alone. Most introverts I know, including myself, engage in online conversations and those seem to exist in our introverted worlds somewhere between in-person socializing and being alone: not as potentially draining as being with people, yet not as isolated as solitude when there’s no internet connection.

But here’s the part some people struggle to see as positive about introverts traveling solo: you are the only decider on where to go, stay, see, or do. As the old saying goes, you are both chief and head bottle washer: decisions and how to spend time are all yours (for good or bad!). Traveling with a companion is more about ongoing compromises and there’s nothing wrong with that if one needs that constant companionship.

So when others ask these questions, I smile and say “Not really,” when I’m actually thinking “How could I be, when I go and do where and what I want and have all this nature around me to commune in introspection and quiet solitude.” As Sarton said, being alone is never lonely for those that embrace a free spirit.

Maine and Mods

My absence from posting here has not been for lack of stories to share, but from being immersed in another round of mods (owner-made modifications) to Tamasté and a friend’s Travato. After my stent recovery time in Ohio and Michigan, I traveled east to Maine, expecting to eventually travel New England and around Canada’s eastern shores and islands.

Click image to enlarge

I’ve been staying at a friend’s house in Maine atop a high hill with a breathtaking views of distant mountains across the horizon. Despite the ever-present bugs (that’s Maine in the summer) it’s a beautiful place to spend some time and focus on making a final (right!) sweeping round of mods for efficiency and finally achieving an ideal (for me) writing space inside Tamasté.

Aside from the modification work, this area of Maine with its quaint towns and rolling, lushly treed landscape feels apart from the noise going on in the country and world. Having live lobster readily available is not a bad perk either, and the local town’s Maine culture and ways enjoyable to experience.

The culmination of my time here is my friend’s annual Travato meet-up going on this weekend, a gathering of 20 Travatos from around the country. One of the interesting things about Travato van life is the Travato Tribe who are sociable in packs. Such meet-ups are how this culture of like-minded (at least relative to Travatos and van life) folks to get together, share food and stories from the road.

While I hope to spend the next two months traveling New England and Canada, I’m still uncertain where I want to winter this year: Florida (like last year), or perhaps the Southwest (Arizona/New Mexico). What is certain is 2020 is my year to explore the Western U.S. states and coast. Looking forward to the sunshine and amazing geography across America’s vast west.

On The Road Again…Finally

Based on the last 90 days or so, I’m hard pressed to call myself a full-time, nomadic traveler. The vast majority of those 90 days were staying with friends, visiting my sons in Hawaii, plus the near-four-week unplanned health procedure “adventure” and recovery. If Tamasté had been my dog, I’m not sure he would have known who I was when I pulled him out of storage yesterday morning to get back to the ways of the nomadic wanderer, RV-style.

But here I am, day two of finally getting back in the thick of rolling the roads and seeing the country. Last night I stayed in the driveway of Travato tribe friends outside Buffalo, NY, and tonight on top of a hill in New Hampshire in the driveway of more Travato tribe friends. And tomorrow I’ll hit Maine where I’ll base for the next few months+ while I explore New England and up into Canada.

All I can say is “that’s more like it!”

Second Chance

I tend to hold personal things close and share only with a few close friends or family. The following experience is not intended to elicit emotional responses, nor support, but shared because it explains the original, subconscious reason why I’m wandering around in Tamasté, and how that’s now changed. And without sharing, the larger point would not be as relevant or crystal clear.

Over the past few weeks I’ve been in my former home town of Findlay, Ohio, for various healthcare appointments and get my checkmarks so I can head off down the road for another year. During one of these, an office test showed a potential problem, and a subsequent hospital-based test confirmed it, leading to a heart procedure to fix it. That turned out to be a proactive avoidance of something that could have been bad possibly sooner than later.

Immediately after the test, however, was an event that led to my second chance and an “I get it” moment around phrases such as live each day, tomorrow is not promised, etc.

Truth is, in some ways, we are the biggest barrier to our health, well-being, and a long life lived without too much strife. We do things that defy common sense, accelerate body issues not so much out of ignorance, but from ego, a sense of entitlement and from the naïveté that “it won’t happen to me.” All of these in the face of evidence that says otherwise coupled with our profound lack of self will. Yes, sometimes genetics plays a part, but I suspect it’s mostly a lifelong act of obstinance to doing what’s right to keep our amazing bodies functioning as designed.

My stated reason for traveling in Tamasté upon retiring was I wanted to see places long on my list, visit old friends, spend more time in nature, and dedicate some real bulk time to writing. Truth is it took some deep, reflective thought and journaling since this second chance event to truly understand. I have been scrambling to see and do things that I didn’t have time for when I did have a job, bills to pay, and things to buy. And, as it turns out, this rush to do is fueled by a hidden fear that mortality’s time clock has only so many tick-tocks left. It’s ludicrous, in a sense, to think I could possibly pack decades and decades of missed experiences into such a short time, yet I that apparently was my intent while I outwardly thought I had lots of time left.

Most of us probably have some type of fear about passing on yet intellectual know we only live in these bodies so long. But knowing the logic of that and brushing up against it are decidedly different emotional moments. Oddly enough, at the time, I was not fearful but attentive on the experience that was unfolding before me. Only later after reflection and more understanding did I grasp the potential closeness of that event.

I’ve always thought, probably like most of us, that those pithy quotes and statements have truth, but there’s lots of time left so no worries. Like many such sentiments, they tend to touch and influence only those who’ve already brushed with consequences of not following such sage advice, and tend to not inspire change for those who need to change the most.

So where and what now? I continue on a path of reexamining what I’m doing and what matters, but so far I’ll continue wandering and exploring in Tamasté for the near future. One change is I have no plans beyond the short term nor feel in a hurry to see and explore places and things on that huge list. Instead, it’s a gratitude each day to have the opportunity to be free and nomadic for now so I can explore, enjoy, and experience whatever comes my way each day. Enjoying what’s in front of me, right now, is suddenly far more important.