That "big announcement" that
I alluded to in the last post?
The Western Road Trip is happening.
Right now, actually.
Dave and I left Raleigh on a Tuesday
and drove up to the Blue Mountains, spending the night in Asheville.
From Asheville out of the mountains and across the plains to Little
Rock, Arkansas... then out of the plains and through the forest,
across the Mississippi and south into the hot Tejano emptiness to
Austin, Texas... from Austin to the empty, searing, parched, wild
country of western Texas.
Along the way, we couchsurfed with some
excellent people who have given me plenty of encouragement that I'm
headed in the right direction, which always seems to be West.
So we ended up in Big Bend National
Park. That deserves its own post. In fact, west Texas deserves its
own post, too.
What's the plan? Right now, I'm taking
it one day at a time. We talk to people and that's how we decide
where to go. Seems like we keep running into the right people! Most
likely, we'll stay in the Southwest (Texas, New Mexico, Arizona,
southern California, and southern Utah), unless it warms up enough to
head north of the 35th latitude.
What is life like these days? All of
our stuff fits precisely into the back of Dave's Toyota Matrix. I've
got the necessities; much of my wardrobe is exactly the same duds
I've been wearing for the past year. Just keep sewing up the holes.
We can sleep in the back by piling our bags and crates onto the
driver's and passenger's seats, which is very convenient. Most of
the time, though, we sleep in a tent. We've been doing "primitive"
camping: bringing in our own water, digging our own latrine holes,
and using headlamps for light. We've made all our food with one pot
over a single campstove flame. Chow has been pretty good thus far;
recipes forthcoming as well. In my opinion, hardly "primitive."
Exactly what I need; nothing more, nothing less.
What do we do? During the day, we're
either hiking or driving. Dave does most of the driving, because I
get too sleepy and distracted. In the passenger's seat, I prep
snacks, change the music, try not to sleep all the time, and beg Dave
to stop at everything I find interesting (which is too much).
How am I affording all this travel? I
get asked that frequently, and I don't think most folks understand
exactly how short our shoestring budget is. The other day we spent a
little under $40 for groceries, buying 34 items, and that will feed
us for days. Twenty bucks total for the both of us for camping the
entire time we were in Big Bend (one $10 night outside the park, one
$10 backcountry permit). Gas is expensive, of course. At some
point, I'll do a few budgeting posts about how I saved for this trip
and what my principle expenses have been (I'm a former analyst—you
betcha I kept track).
By picking up odd jobs and seasonal
jobs, I could probably live like this forever... or until I wanted
to have a community or to buy land or to go back to school or to have
a kid. I do find something approaching profound in being forced to
live in the moment, to be present to enjoy today, to leave tomorrow
to take care of itself. Still, eventually I'm going to want to do
one or more of the above things.
So what's next? Due to a combination
of family and personal factors, we'll be back on the east coast
sometime this spring. Dave and I are looking at jobs back in the
Finger Lakes and northwards. I might want to go back to school
(though I'm not ready to say what I'll be studying). If it looks
like we'll stay put, it might be time to put our names on a piece of
land. I like the idea of buying a yurt: one, it's sturdier than a
nylon tent; two, I dislike debt and a mortgage is just that; three,
we can always pick it up and move again.
There's my update. What's new with
you?
