Solo Travel and Living on the Road in a Skoolie
Hi everyone! Sorry for the lapse in posts recently. I have been busy with all sorts of other exciting projects. I just wanted to take a minute to share with you two new stories that just dropped on other sites. One of my posts was featured on The Wayward Home. This one is about why…
So I screwed up. A little. But every mistake you can walk away from is a potential lesson. At least that’s what I’m telling myself. It wouldn’t be the first time I was at the wrong place at the right time. Or the right place at the wrong time. I had been camped outside of…
I’m trying not to be superstitious out here on the road. I understand that things breaking down is just part of life. It’s the law of entropy. In time, everything will break down and wear out. It’s a war of attrition we fight all the time, and it puts the children of doctors through college,…
Cooking on the road sits at that delicate precipice where you find food that is cheap, durable, flavorful, and yes somewhat nutritious. When you first start out you might be tempted to eat out all the time. You’ll notice two things start to happen when you do this: you run out of money and you…
I’m in a strange place. Both literally and figuratively. I’m traveling with direction, but no destination. The first six months of this journey required that I head south, ahead of the snows that I have known my whole life. I bottomed out in western Arizona, spending a month in Quartzsite and then a month in…
Some days you just feel so far away from everything. As though every moment that comes next takes you further away from who you once were. Life on the road has given me an interesting perspective. I feel like I’m always at the crossroads of missing the places I am leaving, while feeling anxious about…
This morning I find myself sitting at my desk, drinking a hot cup of coffee. I’ve just eaten a mug of oatmeal (mugs are easier to clean and store better) and Penny is looking outside at a golden daybreak. Last night was cold. The coldest it has been for a while on my journey across…
The first time I saw Ouray Colorado, (pronounced Your-ray or You-ray) I was 18 years old. It was for my high school Senior Trip. In mid-May, Lower Cascade Falls was partially frozen, and in town, you could put a quarter into the telescope and watch people climb the ice. I have been back a few…