I’ve gone nomad.
I officially don’t live anywhere.
I guess I am now a wanderer, a vagabond, gypsy, tinker, drifter.
Technically being a nomad means nowhere is home. Or everywhere…
Dumped my apartment.
Purchased a vintage Fan Lee Liner camping trailer (which is not quite ready) and I started to roam.
This move was made not out of need, but of desire.
A desire to live a life as a nomad, means being more in tune with my principals. A life with new and unexpected challenges. My passion for travel and a dream to be a full time traveler.
When nowhere is home, your construct must change. Overcoming unfamiliar trials and impediments becomes the focus.
As I rely more on myself I hope to become less bound to and less reliant on material things. I’ve always been halfway there anyway.
As adaptable as I tend to be, I don’t know how well I will acclimate to this new way of life. And that’s part of the allure.
A Nomad Travels Light
I’ve lived out of a backpack for long periods of time with no issue. But I always had a home to drop my bag at in the end.
Can I happily travel about the country with my large 16 year old cattle dog and neurotic cat and not go insane?
Am I already insane?
Almost everything I own held within the confines of 200 square feet?
Is that really what I’m going to do?
Hell fucking yes I am!
Will the act of living life on the road, be equal to the fantasy?
Likely no, but nothing ever is.
I have no expectations, no preconceptions . I’m just going to take things as they come. Remain as open to my next disaster as eagerly as my next bliss.
I know this is not going to make my life easier. I like grappling with learning new things. I’ve always seen myself as a wanderer, so a ‘gypsy’ I have become.
My life feels more fulfilling with new problems to work out. New obstacles in my way.
So many people are driven by fear of something different, but security is a scam.
I might lose my fucking mind living in a tiny trailer constantly on the move.
I won’t know until I give it a try.
Perhaps I’ll lose my shit and drive us off a cliff after the 5000th mile of Dew the cats endless meowing?
Maybe I’ll writhe with glee every time we pick up to head to the next place.
When Nowhere is Home
I’ve driven and flown from Virginia to Providence or Boston 12 times in the past year. Virginia to Austin to Portland and Seattle 4 times in the past 6 months.
I’ve driven over 5000 miles of Scotland, 1300 miles of England, a wee bit of Wales and almost 800 miles of Ireland. I think I’m ready for this life on the road challenge.
I survived the travels across the US, stuck in my SUV with cat and dog while staying at AirBnBs.
Through wild rainstorms, outrageous snowstorms, forest fires, trains jumping off of bridges and traffic straight from the bowels of Hell, and I seem to have revelled in each adventure. I suppose I really do have some sort of gypsy soul. But will being a full time nomad be as exciting to me once living in it?
A Nomad Needs Friends
Saturday I head out of Portland to Austin in the SUV.
I will then make my way to Virginia, finish work on the camper and then off I will go.
Nowhere will be home for real. I will be living a gypsy, wanderer, traveler, nomad life quite literally.
I’m in the thick of my vagabond life now. After over a year long soft launch. The hard launch is nipping at my heels. There’s no turning back.
I have no idea if I will love this challenge or despise it, because it is merely an experiment.
Follow along with me on my going nomad adventure, and we’ll find out together.