Full Circle

The day before Thanksgiving 2014, I left the Bay Area and drove straight to Donner Summit, where I jumped out of the van with Titan and Star and started running around in the granite playground.  I felt an overwhelming sense of freedom and a very simple and pure sense of happiness.  I was finally fully committed to living the lifestyle I always wanted- life on the road.  I had lived out of my vehicle on the road on and off for varying amounts of time each year over the past five years, but this was different.  I had saved up and sold my car and I was going to be able to travel without working for much longer than ever before.  In January, Chelsea joined me on the road.  I originally hoped to make it until September, but after a few months, I turned to Chelsea and said, "I bet we can do a year!"  And here I am, the day after Thanksgiving 2015, getting ready to drive from Seattle to Tahoe, where we settle for the winter.

The trip isn't over by any means.  I wouldn't even consider it a trip any more.  Now it's just life.  A wonderful, beautiful, fulfilling life.  We are headed to Tahoe in hopes of experiencing the first good snow year after several dismal, frighteningly dry and warm years.  We will be parked, living inside a building for the next few months, although we hope to spend most of our time outside exploring the backcountry.  And, we have jobs.  For the first time in over a year, I'll be clocking in and earning a paycheck.  While the income is necessary, I think the transition will be a bit rough at first.  At least I'll be outside working at a ski resort!  After the winter, the plan is to hop back in the van in late winter or early spring, and do another western ski tour that will culminate back in Alaska.  

It seems appropriate that one of the first places I visited last year after leaving Tahoe was Indian Creek, and a couple weeks ago, we went back, before returning to Tahoe once more.  It felt like a nice way to tie things together and bring things full circle.  However, calling our route a circle, would be extremely misleading, as we went up, down, side to side, and round and round, in what would seem the most senseless path around the West that one could possibly imagine.  It made sense to us, as we chased the seasons and the activities we wanted to partake in at each time.  It didn't always work in our favor, as we had a warm and dry winter when we wanted to ski, which lent itself well to climbing, and we experienced tons of precipitation this spring as we tried to climb.  Nonetheless, we got after it- biking, skiing, hiking, backpacking, paddling, and consuming cookies all across the west.  To be honest, I'm not sure what mileage we were at when we left a year ago, but I think we may have amassed somewhere around 30,000 miles since last November (omg.  that's the first time I've thought about that and that seems absurdly impossible.  Like I said... not a circle).

It doesn't feel like a year has passed.  Time has made up it's own meaning since I've been on the road.  I sleep when I'm tired or when it's dark out, I eat when I'm hungry, I play when there's daylight.  Sometimes the days slip by without me noticing and suddenly a month has gone by.  Sometimes each moment lasts indefinitely as it swoops you up and carries you with it.  

Being on the road long term has affirmed that is is where I'm meant to be.  I'm happiest outside, exploring, watching my dogs play, discovering new places, and trying new activities.  I get antsy when I stay in one place.  The simplicity that comes with paring down your belongings to what you can fit in your van is liberating.  You are given time, one of our most valuable resources, and with that time you can make memories and create experiences, things that are more lasting and meaningful than any possession.  When you live in a small space (especially a vehicle), you are encouraged to spend most of your time outside.  The last year has been rich and fulfilling.  It has been filled with countless nights of snuggling up in the van with a smile on my face, my tired body relaxing after a day of physical activity and a feeling of contentment.

I've had the opportunity to connect with so many friends, both old and new and I've been reminded over and over again about the importance and simplicity of human connection and the overall goodness of people.  I've been awed by the generosity of the companies who reached out to us and helped us along the way.  I've been inspired by the quickly growing community of van dwellers and outdoor lovers who get out there and get after it.  I have the best best friend in the world, one who has put up with my van's problems, one who has dealt with me in all my moods, my stresses, my extreme highs, and my lows, and who I am so happy I could experience all the adventures of this year with.  I have a stronger bond than ever with Titan and Star and I love those furry critters more than I can explain.  I met the love of my life on the side of the road in the most organic and wonderful set of circumstances and I get to wake up each day excited to be with him and to knowing that our connection via this lifestyle forged our bond strong right from the start.

I've spent the last year amongst the trees and the mountains, under the stars and the moon, in the warmth of the summer sun, in the freezing winter snow, on rocks, in meadows, on trails, on the open road, stuck in the mud, in the desert, on the slopes and everywhere in between.  In an ever changing environment, you can't avoid growth, you can't become complacent and you can't get stuck in a comfort zone where you say 'maybe later.'  If you want something, you make it happen, and you make it happen today.  Not next week, or next month, or next year, or when you have more time or money or when you retire.  Life is waiting for you to discover your place within it.  Even if that place is as simple as living in a van and playing outside  The greatest way we can improve this world is to fill it with passion.  So get out there and find yours and pursue it relentlessly.  Find a happiness that is so contagious that it can't help but rub off on everyone around you.  The past year has been incredible.  And I can't wait to get back out on the road and do it again.

        

Over Psyched and Under Prepared

As a van dweller, I have two schools of thought when it comes to preparedness.  

On the one hand, I feel prepared for anything at all times because everything I own is packed into the 55 square foot space that I live in.  I have downhill skis, cross country skis, snowshoes, crashpads, cams, ropes, harnesses, a road bike, a mountain bike, a PFD, dry bags, several backpacks, sleeping pads, two tents, several means of cooking food, art supplies, books, seven pounds of oats, three hammocks, a violin, and lots of other essentials.  Should I want to do an activity, chances are I have the basics somewhere in the van to make it happen.  

On the other hand, there are the times when we go away from the van.  Overnights and extended trips, and those rare times when people invite us to stay inside their home (usually we are invited to shower first, then inspected and if approved we are sometimes offered an indoor bed).  Suddenly, I panic because everything is no longer at my fingertips.  The van is outside in the driveway, or at a distant trailhead, or parked along the road somewhere and I am somewhere between 2 minutes and several days worth of travel away from it, and what if it were to suddenly snow and I should need my cross country skis?  Or what if I come across a cool boulder while backpacking and I need my climbing shoes? Or what if I'm inside someone's house and  I need my phone charger?  These are the things I think about, and these thoughts usually turn to action and that action is usually overstuffing my backpack.  On the Tahoe Rim Trail, my pack weighed about 60 pounds the day of our last resupply.  That's half my body weight.  But hey, I needed my glow sticks, two GoPros, a down jacket for those 65 degree overnight lows, and all that other necessary stuff.  

A sub-thought in the preparedness spectrum is this: because we live in a van, we travel to lots of different places where there are lots of different things to do.  And we like to try them all, but don't necessarily invest the time into them that would lead us to purchase the best gear for said activity, nor do we usually follow the proper sequence for introduction to activities.  We just jump in 100% using the gear we have and see how it turns out.  We usually end up being over-psyched and under-prepared.

Anyway, Chelsea, Titan, Star and I were in Alaska packing for our very first bike tour.  Two days before, we had one of the more epic failures we've ever experienced on what was supposed to be our very first bike tour.  We made it one mile.  That's not a joke.  On round two, we decided to try to cut a bit of weight.  Because that one mile felt pretty damn hard.  We were feeling very proud of ourselves because we both owned one of those tiny hand pumps that you hope you never have to use because there's no way you are going to get that tire to 100 psi standing on the side of the road in your spandex, cranking that thing until your arms fall off.  Look at us, we thought, bike touring pros.  Then we looked at my mountain bike tires and all four Burley tires and realized that they were all schrader valves and both the hand pumps were presta only.  Welp, we'll just take the WHOLE ENTIRE FLOOR PUMP with us on this 250 mile tour.  NBD.  Heaven forbid we spend $15 on another hand pump, because, please we just spent like $47 on Snickers bars and a teeny thermometer so we could confirm that it was freezing out when we felt freezing, so really there was no room left in the budget for such frivolous items.  So we weren't successful at saving weight in that department, but I made up for it by bringing a two inch toothbrush instead of a regular sized one, which meant that I got to carry an ounce less and that I got to stick my fingers fully in my mouth every night after dinner.  

We were physically prepared for bugs... mentally, not so much

Now may be a good time to reiterate that neither of us humans, nor either dog, had ever done a bike tour before.  We didn't have panniers or touring bikes or a super light tent or any of the items you might consider standard for a bike tour.  What we did have was one mountain bike, one hybrid cross bike, two Burley trailers and a lot of excitement.  We figured we would just go for it and hope it all panned out.  With the forecast showing a week straight of rain, we loaded up our Burleys with four bear canisters of human and dog food, our bike pump, some extra layers of clothing, camping and cooking gear, and Titan and Star, and we hit the road.    

All in all we spent eight days and 250 miles on the Denali Highway.  Sure, a little extra preparedness and know how would have made our lives easier a few times.  Like when I somehow lost the use of my granny gear and had to bike the hills on over half the ride at a glacial, threatening to tip over pace, it could have been nice to know a few things about bike maintenance.  It also would have been good to have prepared for the possibility of freezing temps and little snow flurries because it did do that (in August).  Fortunately, we had enough layers to keep fairly warm, and after biking for a bit we could maintain a comfortable temperature.  We did suffer a bit in the rain, but I don't think any amount of preparedness would have made that suck less.  But it all worked out.  We had the energy and the enthusiasm to make it happen.  Each day we woke up with the excitement of another day on the bike, exploring the majestic scenery of Alaska by our own power.  We worked together with Titan and Star, alternating their running and sitting in the Burleys and we completed an awesome journey together.  The Denali Highway was some of the best fun I've had this year, in a year spent doing only fun things.  Sometimes you just have to get out there and try new things and not worry about the fact that you're towing a 100 pound trailer behind your mountain bike for eight continuous days on your first bike tour ever.  Oh, and none of the eight tires needed air the entire trip.  So we brought that whole pump along for nothing.

Night Photography

After a couple of years of shooting pictures almost exclusively on my iPhone, I recently decided to get out my DSLR to make an attempt at learning to shoot on manual.  One reason I really wanted to do this was to be able to take nice night photos.  I am beginning to understand how to do this and have had the chance to practice quite a bit lately.  I still have trouble getting the shot to be focused, partly because I don't have a tripod, and partly because when I look through the viewfinder it's really dark out and I can't focus when I can't see anything, but I'm having a lot of fun learning.  If you have any tips on getting the focus right, please let me know!  I'm posting this from my phone, where the pictures are small enough to look decent, but if you're looking at this on a computer, they're probably pretty blurry!  I still have a long way to go, but here are some shots I've taken lately:

Silas on the side of the highway in Valdez, AK

Northern Lights over Silas and Old Gray in Yukon Territory

A rather blurry and a bit dark, but a nice view from our campground in Indian Creek.

Fun with headlamps

The neighbors campsite, they had a big fire and lots of headlamps on

Silas in the Manti-La Sal National Forest.

Same location as above, this time my camera is resting on a tractor shovel

Camped out in White Sands National Monument, NM

White Sands National Monument, NM       

One more from our 'backcountry' campsite in White Sands

Silas Strikes Again

Sometimes you go over a speed bump and your exhaust pipe falls off.  I mean, that totally happens right?

So we are leaving White Sands just as the park is about to close.  We go over one of those abrasive speed bumps that makes you go bambam! and there are two more in sight before the exit to the park. "Hold on everyone, abrasive speed bumps ahead!" I call out.  We go over the first one and there is suddenly a huge clank noise and I can feel something dragging and scraping across the ground.  Brian jumps out as Star basically jumps into Chelsea's lap, poor pup is terrified!  Brian informs us that our exhaust pipe has completely fallen off the van.  In the few seconds that it scraped against the ground it managed to bend and pretzel itself into a stuck position.  Now we get to jack up the van and try to puzzle the piece out while every single visitor to the park has to exit past us.  A super nice guy who is doing a year long road trip with his two kids (way to go cool dad!) helped us free the pipe eventually and we were on our way.  Hoping to find an open shop tomorrow!