Cross Country Road Trip – Virginia Beach to Paradise

Paradise California

I believe this to be my twelfth cross country road trip in the last year and a half and it is difficult to believe. Nearly two years non stop on the road to date.

Why am I heading cross country yet again? Because my son and his girlfriend are sick of watching my cat. The cat eats plastic bags then runs through the house barfing and they are pretty sick of it and rightly so.

Not that I need much of an excuse to  hit the road. I love to travel and am particularly fond of long haul drives.

Pretty much any excuse to go out on any sort of road trip is good enough for me.

Need help selling your house in Seattle? Have a cool place to stay in Madrid New Mexico? Wanna have drinks in Denver?

Festival in Arizona? I’m on my way. Hiking in Maine? Castle in Scotland? Daring bridge crossing in Norway… I’ll be there.

I do not need a specific reason or destination, the drive alone is pleasure enough. A desolate and beautiful drive in the Scottish Highlands? I’ll do it numerous times. (Lately it seems I’ll do anything in Scotland, any chance I get.)

I do love to venture out and explore on foot. Yet driving to and around any destination is one of the best parts of travel for me. Be it cross country or a road trip to the next town, even in its simplest form,  such travel it is my bliss.

Routes of the Rootless Cross Country

At about noon I headed west on I 64 from Virginia Beach, bound for Lexington Kentucky. Amazingly I made it as far as Dale Indiana, where I spent my first night.

Having done similar cross country road trip sojourns so readily this past year, I opted to take a new route, staying as close as I could to the middle of the country.

I planned not to go too far north due to bad weather. Not that driving in snow bothers me. In fact I quite enjoy driving in the snow, and did so on a similar trip nearly a year ago

Dead Man Pass near Pendleton Oregon 2017

Fog and snow covered Dead Man Pass Oregon
Deadman Pass Pendleton Oregon 2017 Cross Country Road Trip i the snow

being that my plan this time was to get to my destination as quickly as possible, it made sense to avoid possible snow.

Dew the Cat

More commonly when I drive cross country routes I base them on things I wish to see and do. Yet this trip is more focused on quickly releasing my cat Dew, from my sons care.

Dew the barfing cat.
Dew the Cat

Dew the Cat

A sweet cat, Dew is clean, goofy and funny but skittish and sort of… well… dumb. That she does not get along with female cats (of which there are 2 in my sons house) was an issue. As a barf driven in general and has little understanding of boundaries. She also is not fond of the road trip lifestyle, but she is mine, and I love her. So off we go.

My son has been caring for her far longer than ever anticipated. An outrageous amount of unexpected circumstances held me up, including a broken leg that laid me up for over 5 months.

America, the Beautiful Toll Free

The stretch through the West Virginia and Kentucky mountains is phenomenal.

An aesthetically pleasing, as well as enjoyable drive. Rolling pavement brings you up and around beautiful countryside, with steep inclines and descends.

On this cross country passage, I mapped the trip via google maps. For the first time I chose the option to avoid tolls. In result, I ended up on wonderful local small town roads that winded me around the turnpikes and other toll roads. It worked out wonderfully.

Google directed me off of the highway just prior to the toll booth and took me on a few off the beaten path sojourns. Each detour was truly spectacular scenically and roadway wise.

This unexpected bonus only added a few minutes to the entire trip in the end. At on point, I was amused to see myself pull out right in front of the truck with whom I’d been sharing the road for hours, just beyond the clutches of the “pay your toll” booth.

Resting at Rest Stops

I created a cozy little sleeping nook in the back of my Lincoln Aviator.

Rest Stop on my Cross Country Road Trip
Sleeping in the SUV at rest stops on my cross country road trip

It was pretty comfy once I got the sun shade thing situated.

I slept at 3 rest stops along this road trip. Not only did it save me money, but it allowed me to hop back onto the road with little wasted time. I think I prefer this to motels when on a cross country route focused on expediency. over sightseeing.

Cross Country Road Trip Rest Stop Dale Indiana
Dale Indiana Rest Stop

This one in Dale, Indiana was not the most picturesque, but nicely maintained and I felt safe sleeping there.

This strip of highway has quite a few decent rest stops normally, but many were closed on this particular trip. I was extremely glad to find this one open.

Cross Country Road Rest Stop Ogallala Nebraska
Ogallala Nebraska Rest Stop

Good morning Indiana From there I hit a Denny’s for a power breakfast then headed out towards I70 making it as far as Oglala Nebraska.

The Nebraska rest stop was fantastic. Clean with lots of parking. Wide open spaces and lovely views.

Ogallala Nebraska Rest Stop
Good Morning Nebraska

Good morning Nebraska!

For some reason google gps routed me through Nebraska instead of my previously designated plan to follow straight through Kansas and Colorado, yet I enjoyed the I-80 drive passing miles and miles of cattle ranches.

Riding High on Audio Books

As much of this particular drive offers such exquisite views, I tend to revel in the scenery without distraction.

But on long hauls like this, driven alone, various forms of distraction are necessary to staying alert, even if that sounds a bit oxymoronic.

One way I pass time is of course my music. When I’m feeling tired I at times rely on talk radio to keep me going. Yet one of my best allies is Audible.

Listening to lectures or books or whatever wets your noodle, is one the most valuable tools when in the more long haul type of journey. Just make sure you download ahead of time.

Your in Reno? I’m in Reno.

Nevada Humane Society
Dropping campfire cats off to be adopted from Nevada Humane Society with FieldHaven Feline Center

Before picking up my cat from my sons house in Portland, I will visit with FieldHaven Feline Center, the group with which I volunteer from afar.

FieldHaven, a long standing cat rescue and shelter in Lincoln California has been working hard to help the thousands of cats affected by the campfire.

Along with the support of Alley Cat Allies, FieldHaven opened 2 temporary shelters; Alley Cat Allies Recovery Center in Marysville and Alley Cat Allies Transfer Station in Paradise. These additional shelters were necessary for the unprecedented amount of cats let injured, lost, homeless or without shelter and food across the burn zone.

Having been invited to stay with Joy Smith, the head of FieldHaven, I remained in touch with her as I headed West. When I told Joy I’d be in Lincoln Friday, she mentioned that she would not return from Reno (where many of the unclaimed campfire are being sent for adoption) and ot back home until 5pm.

Checking my itinerary, it occurred to me that I’d be in Reno by about noon on Friday. In the same time my friend Christine, who I hadn’t seen in years texted me, asking me to stop by when passing through Reno. (Is totally forgotten that she’d moved there)

In the end, I got to stop in Reno, take a much needed shower as well as visit with my good friend Christine, then meet Joy & Rog of FieldHaven, as well as a bunch of campfire cats at Nevada Humane Society then follow them back to Lincoln.

Landing in Paradise

I made it across the US, practically from coast to coast in 4 nights easily.

The expense of the trip was purely gas, breakfast and drinks in the end and it was yet again another fantastic road trip across the US. I GoPro’d every light day of it and will share it, along with my many other recorded journeys, as soon as I am able.

Saturday I was able to visit Alley Cat Allies Transfer Station as well as drive around Paradise to see the devastation first hand. It may seem a grim thing to do. Yet certainly I am not a catastrophe tourist. I’d ridden this area on my motorcycle many years before.  The strange familiarity felt by the awareness of knowledge of this place I had rarely ever been. I felt a unique and intimate understanding of the tragedy that affected so many.

The stories of loss, heartache and then the ultimate satisfaction of reuniting someone with a cat they were sure had perished in the fire. Cognizant of the feeding station and trapping locations as well as if I’d lived there and physically helped. To know the addresses and stories of human, animal and material loss as if it had happened to my friends and neighbors. It is difficult to put into words the sheer devastation of it all and how keenly I was touched by experiencing it first hand, after all of this time.

And am keenly aware of all hard work and dedication that FieldHaven and the many trappers, feeders, rescuers and shelters have put in just to help give a small bit of relief to the people and animals that have lost so very much.

Sadness and Loss

I GoPro’d the devastation but I’m unsure if I shall share it or not. It was heart wrenching to see the depth loss exhibited by these utterly charred neighborhood’s. Businesses mostly gone. Hearth and home obliterated along with the foliage and trees.

The overwhelming emptiness of the place, bereft in its losses it is tangible as if a solid entity.

Paradise California 2019
Rainbow over Paradise

But the cats… so many survived. They escaped locked down burned out houses like little Houdini’s. Thousands of cats so far recovered. More found and trapped every day. Their ability to survive in a burned out world of nothingness is remarkable. This place so long considered a paradise for so many, as in name then to ashes.

It was a magical experience and an added bonus to this cross country drive. If it actually meant anything beyond a rainbow happened to cross my path at the most opportune moment or not, I’ll let you decide that. What I will state, is that my expeditious drive across the US, for me was well worth it if just for that moment.

Hell, I live driving and exploring so much, it was worth it just for the drive alone.

Next Stop Portland

Soon I leave for Portland to pick up Dew. Then I will head out with my friend Laurie, her chihuahua Rudy and my cat to cross the country once more, this time via the most northern route heading from Portland to Rhode Island.

First stop Yellowstone Park.

Madrid New Mexico | Part III | Desert Oasis

RootlessRoutes Madrid New Mexico 2018

Overwhelmed with relief to see the sign ‘Welcome to Madrid’, I knew my turn onto Back Road was close at hand.

No longer any need for the low tire pressure warning since now there was no doubt that the tire was entirely flat.

Madrid New Mexico RootlessRoutes
Hello Madrid New Mexico August 2018. It as a Hell of a ride getting to you.

After turning on Back Road it was only one half mile left to the AirBnB.

The night was even darker, but it did not take me long to realize this was yet another unpaved road, laden with huge gaping potholes.

FUCK!

Hello Madrid

Here we are, actually in Madrid and subsequently what I thought would be the end of our ordeal. But now I was driving on a pitch black, unmarked dirt road, riddled with fissures and huge holes.

I started chanting again.  “Come on baby, you can do it”.

The shaking of the SUV caused Roadie to sit up and try to peer out the window.

“Lie down dammit!” I yelled, worried she’d get hurt flying across her bed, even within the doggie hammock.

A nice comfy bed was ahead of us. I just needed to make it. Only one fourth of a mile to go.

I envisioned sleeping in a bed as I traveled down the  mild grade of the unlevel and poorly maintained, muddy road.

Before me the rent in the road was wide, deep and on the same side as the flat back tire.

There was little room between the cars parked on either side but nothing was going to stop me at this point.

Slowly I pulled forward, the front right tire fell into the unavoidable hole causing the SUV to lean dangerously to the right.

Unpaved Roads & Anxious Dogs

The dog fell backward (I had told her to lay her ass down) and clunked her head on the door.

Thankfully, once we made it out of the hole she sat up, after a bit of struggle to get her ground and started panting like the happy dog she is.

RootlessRoutes
Waldo Mesa Road Madrid New Mexico

How could .3 miles take so long. I swore the GPS was stuck.

As soon as I got close to what looked like the turn for Waldo Mesa Road, the map would expand showing it to be further ahead.

One more gaping hole in the road, of course it was also on the right. We made it through and were once more on level ground. Now making our way up a mild hill covered with huge sharp, rocks for gravel. (don’t they know what gravel is in New Mexico?)

We completed the last turn in the road and the roadway mellowed.

Flat dirt, no holes and I was pretty sure the light shining up ahead was the light for our AirBnB.

As we got closer though I groaned. The house was just as pictured, but subsequently on another fissure ridden hill.

“For fucks sake!”

I turned onto Waldo Mesa Road and stopped in front of the gate. I got out and took a deep breath. It may have been quite a challenge getting here, but I was in the New Mexico desert and it was beautiful.

Grateful in Madrid

I was so grateful to have made it I could have kissed the sand below my feet.

I took a few moments to appreciate my surroundings and remind myself how lucky I was to be here at all.

The AirBnB was adorable and it was surrounded by the scrubby, rolling hills of New Mexico.

Even in the dark it glowed with a tinge of pink. If I had to have 2 flat tires, then better in this place. I was infinitely glad to be there.

Roadie whimpered. She had to pee.

Leaving the SUV on the road I helped her out of the back seat and escorted her to our new digs.

The key was on the table as promised, so I let her in and went back down the hill.

Pulling the SUV in was not easy. The Aviator sat at a precarious angle but I really wanted to get into bed and sleep.

After hauling everything we needed for the night, I loaded the cold stuff into the fridge, washed up, changed and fell fast asleep.

Madrid New Mexico. About as bleary a picture as I felt

Madrid, New Mexico.

Good night!

Madrid New Mexico | Part II | Google Maps Hell

Madrid New Mexico

Only 7 miles from Madrid and I was most certainly not the carefree dog in the car hammock. (click for Part I)

I was driving a heavily loaded SUV with a dangerously low tire along an unfamiliar roadway with sharp turns, steep inclines and little between myself and the edge.

The dog was snoring. Swaying without a care in the world in her hammock in the back.

Madrid New Mexico
A dark entrance over the pothole covered unpaved road into Madrid

It was after 3am. The dark of night before me was nothing more than what looked like an empty abyss.

Highway 14 coiled up a steep grade with little between us and what was a likely harrowing end below.

In the pitch of night it was impossible to see more than a few feet around, but easy to surmise the depths that lay beyond the edge of the tenuous roadway.

Only 6 miles to Madrid.

The console indicator kept demanding attention to its unmitigating message “Air pressure dangerously low”.

We weaved down to more level ground and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Just 5 more miles, just 5 more miles.

I Curse Thee, Google Maps

The tire had gone flat earlier in the day.

Against my better judgement I filled it with Fixaflat and headed back out.

With only 16 miles to Madrid, I figured it should at least hold that far.

It was after 1am. I’d covered well over 900 miles that day. An unplanned detour added 4 hours to the drive but I thought it worth the experience.

Skyline Drive took me miles out of the way in Utah. It was also likely to blame for instigating the troubles we were experiencing now.

Skyline Drive, Manti-La Sal National Forest, Utah
Skyline Drive, Manti-La Sal National Forest, Utah

Well worth the added miles and the trouble, but trouble I was now in, nevertheless.

With so few miles to go, we just had to make it. Just HAD too.

Almost To Madrid

I drove with care towards Madrid, switching from my preferred WAZE to Google maps, just in case I lost signal out there in the middle of nowhere.

I love WAZE. She has directed me safely across countless cities and unfamiliar continents, but she is limited when signal is lost.

Google Maps allows you to preload maps, so if signal is lost you still have a map to follow.

But then Google Maps did what it does and put me on 57A, a gravel road, full of potholes the size of gullies.

I do not see how at 1am, in the middle of the desert, this was a better option than the paved highway only a few miles out of the way.

57A between 25 and 14. is not a worthy shortcut, remain on the highway and go the extra few miles to go around.
57A is not a paved road. It is a farm road for local use and not to be trifled with via anything but a 4WD or off road vehicle.

It is not the first time Google Maps has pulled this shit and it is why I prefer WAZE. WAZE acknowledges that easier and safer is at times better than faster, far more than does Google.

Only 3 miles to Madrid.

Madrid New Mexico | Part 1 | Limping Along the Turquoise Trail

Madrid New Mexico sign

The sign read 12 miles to Madrid. 

I was screwed, yet remained hopeful.

I might make it to Madrid without mutilating the Lincoln or killing myself, so decided to chance it.

It was not much of a decision, with so few options left.

Sleep in the car, on a desolate road, in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night or try for the only other reasonable alternative.

I certainly was not dealing with roadside assistance again.

So onward I drove.

Was the level of desolation on this road a good or a bad thing?

Regardless, I was determined to get to my Madrid AirBnB and lie down in a bed that night. Even if the damned sun was rising by the time I got there.

The Aviator crawled up a steep and curvy incline, as I murmured my mantra… slightly amending it each torturous mile.

Just 10 more miles, just 8 more miles.

Come on baby… you can make it.

A Dogs Life

I checked the rear view.

Roadie was quiet as usual. Asleep in her backseat and nestled in her hammock. Completely accustomed to long hauling at this point.

Even at her age the dog has the bladder of a champ and only asks to stop 2 or 3 times in a 16 hour stint. 16 hours being generally my limit for long distance driving.

She’d slept through the flat tire. Through the most of the tow truck guy changing the tire with my equally flat spare. (Thanks a lot you asshole)

She sat up and watched a bit as said “help” did not check if the spare tire was good. Even after I repeatedly shared my concern and told him that I was completely ignorant to the condition of the spare.

Roadie wasn’t worried, after all she’s a dog. For a moment I wished she was the driver and I was the dog in the hammock.

The Turquoise Trail

Tow truck dude reassured me that the tire was good.

Then drove off in his tow truck. Leaving me on a gravel road, that not one, not even two roadside assistance services could find without a great deal of direction and description from me.

Me, my ancient dog and my Lincoln Aviator with an equally flat tire as the first.

Stuck near Madrid New Mexico
Between the highway and the Turquoise Trail about 12 miles from Madrid

Alone on this unpaved road, in the middle of the desert, on a seemingly clear but oddly starless night.

Me and my sweet dog.

Left as fodder for the coyotes, only a few miles from our destination.

It seemed hours ago that I’d turned onto the Turquoise Trail and started on the last 12 miles to Madrid.

We now had only 7 more miles to go.

Just Like a White Winged Dove | My Austin Texas Transplant

I’d nearly made it through Texas and into Austin without harming anything. Driving nearly 3000 miles with no depressing flattened bunny moments, is a Godsend.

Spewing toxic emissions into the atmosphere is one thing. But death or injury in my vehicles wake is quite another.

Sadly, with my “driving the world” lifestyle, such is inevitable.

Blood Moon
Full buck moon. Picture not my own. RootlessRoutes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Buck Moon / Deer Lunacy

On this weird, cloudless yet starless night, the full buck moon was bright red. Drawing wild eyed deer to the roadways edge. 

Like packs of starving zombies seeking to sate their ravaging hunger. Suicidal Whitetail await in the shadows for just the right vehicle to drive by.

Deer in forest. Picture not my own
Lurking deer

In my mind I could see them. Pawing at the periphery. Waiting in the twiggy wedge of where the forest meets the road.

Moon crazed deer are the bane of rural Texas roadways in Summer and Fall. But not only deer succumb to the full moons lunacy. On Summer nights like these, a deranged contagion maddens more than the jittery, spindly legged, frantics.

Although unseen, denizens of the Texas wilderness hide in the shadows. Lurking at the brink of the unlit road. Waiting for me to drive by.

I scanned the verge with sharp intent. Hands gripping the wheel in anticipation. Ready to respond.

As Austin neared, the forest thinned and turned to sprawling ranchland. Not out of the literal woods yet, I loosened my grip but maintained a keen eye.

Hello Austin Texas

About about 100 miles north of my South Austin, Texas destination, traffic thickened as it now always does when nearing Austin. I began to relax.

Less than 100 miles from my destination and no casualties. Then something flew in front of the car and vanished. I knew it was a goner.

It was nearly dark, so it could have been a bat. Texas is home to millions of little bats. But I knew that whatever it was, was likely stuck in the massive grill of the Lincoln.

Menacing bug laden grill of my Lincoln Aviator. RootlessRoutes Austin Texas 2018

I’d not seen it do the customary ‘swoop of the dead’ over my hood. So I imagined it wedged between the evil teeth if the Aviators shameless grin.

I drove on.

The sprawling Texas ranchland faded to subdivisions. I drove across Austin through the late evening traffic, so common to this place. Venturing on to my mother’s house in South Austin.

Arriving exhausted, I merely glanced at the menacing grill of the Lincoln upon unloading and saw nothing.

I awoke to take Mom to do errands. It was hot. Three digit hot.

The bug laden grill showed no sign of a body, so I offered the little creature a moment of silence in recompense and went on with life.

The Heat (Heart) of Texas!

The next day was hot. Like the rest of the US, Texas was searing. Daily aspiring to triple digits or close, with just enough humidity to make it soul breakingly bleak.

As I traversed South Austin to help my Mom with chores. Instead of dodging moon crazed deer, I now evaded the blank eyed, soccer Moms, that dot Austins cityscape.

These dough eyed creatures, drive and roam about as if they have no real destination in mind. Such Austin transplants wander the parking lots and shops in a daze similar to the deer.

Swaddled in organic yoga pants and t shirts with ironic sayings, they prance about believing they too are “weird”. Their freshly dyed purple hair, a beacon of their unacknowledged privilege.

I prefer the crazy deer.

The deer are much more competent at blending into the landscape than are this new breed of Austin Moms. Fueled by their vapid superiority, they don’t even notice themselves blocking the way, driving to slowly or cutting you off.

And Ye Shall Arise!

We stopped at Michaels craft supply and walked the length of the strip mall to TJ Maxx.

The heat was better this day, yet too oppressive for my Mom. So I slogged off through the Texas heat, to get the car and come pick her up.

RootlessRoutes 2018 Austin Texas
Rootless Routes 2018 Austin Texas

How could that be?

RootlessRoutes 2018 Austin Texas
Rootless Routes 2018 Austin Texas

There’s no way it could be a second bird right?

White winged dove
White winged dove behind the grill. Rootless Routes 2018 Austin Texas

Yet there she was, screaming her wee head off and waving her wings about. She looked a right mess too.

I opened the trunk and the dove flew out. She stumbled around the parking lot, mimicking the soccer moms and flew off into the expansive Texas sky.

How could that poor little sucker have survived? Eighty miles an hour in front of a searing hot radiator? Three whole days driving around town in 3 digit heat?

There is no way to know how that little bird survived her predicament. Yet, she now too was a transplant to Austin, Texas.

Maybe she’ll dye her hair purple, buy a Subaru Outback and start prancing around parking lots in ironic t-shirts.

Going Nomad | When Nowhere is Home

I’ve gone nomad.

I officially don’t live anywhere.

I guess I am now a wanderer, a vagabond, gypsy, tinker, drifter.

RootlessRoutes The world is my home
Nowhere is home or the world is home?!?

Technically being a nomad means nowhere is home. Or everywhere…

I went nomadic about a year ago with little warning or planning.
Camper life. Fan Lee Liner Vintage camper
1971 Fan camper will soon be my only home.

Dumped my apartment.

Started downsizing.

Purchased a vintage Fan Lee Liner camping trailer (which is not quite ready) and I started to roam.

Routes of the Rootless RootlessRoutes

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?

RootlessRoutes backpack
Osprey backpack on train from New York to Norfolk

Almost everything I own held within the confines of 200 square feet?

Is that really what I’m going to do?

Vintage camper
Trial run with dog in vintage camper AirBnB similar to mine

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.

Nowhere is home to Dew the nomad cat and she hates it
Dew the cat likes to meow mile after mile after mile

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.