It's time to get down to business.

I've been at my folks place in Florida for a week now and have begun editing my photos and putting together new works to send home to Argyle Fine Art. I am feeling very fortunate to be at a place in my 'career' where I have a gallery willing to take my art. It really is a dream come true.

When I first arrived I tried to dive head first into making new work. I tend to put unnecessary pressure on myself, especially when people have already paid for pieces I haven't actually made yet.  Well, as you can probably imagine, I had a bit of a panic attack. I can't expect myself to go from being on the move every day for three months to immediately churning out new work. So after taking a couple of days to run some errands, eat oranges from the trees out back and easing into staying put I am now back on track. I am getting some commissions done and there will be new stuff at Argyle for the Pre-Shrunk show in January.

Spending time organizing the hundreds and hundreds of photos I've taken isn't all business though. The past three months have all blended together and sorting through my pictures brings back memories I've already forgotten. I have lots of time for reflection and in a month will be back on the road. Before I left I assumed many things. I pictured myself foraging through the woods for greens to eat, camping by rivers or lakes for weeks on end and making extra money washing dishes or doing odd jobs. I have done none of these things. The romanticizing I did about this journey is just that, romantic and unrealistic. The realities of traveling are completely different, for me at least. Yes, I'm sure I could have done all of these things but it's not who I am. I think part of anyone's success in life is knowing who you really are and not who you want to be. I'm not the kind of person who feels comfortable walking into a place and asking for work. Larry the hitchhiker is. He has taken many little jobs along his way to keep going and is perfectly comfortable doing so. He would approach people for rides or ask for help and was almost always met with kindness. I admire what he's doing but, as I said, it's not me.

I've had to discover who I truly am, accept it and work within it. I am not someone who is going to walk across the continent. I don't want to sleep in a tent in the woods for weeks on end or rely on knowing what's edible in the forest. I want my perked coffee in the morning and a hot meal at night. I like my small creature comforts. It's hard for me to admit I'm not as worldly as I like to think I am. I know it's all relative and some would disagree with me. I guess what I'm trying to say is I now know what my limits are and what I'm comfortable with, even if it's not what I thought before I set out. No matter how well you think you know yourself there's always more to know and spending three months on the road by yourself will surely bring some new things to light.

Louisiana and beyond

I had a great time in Louisiana but I have to say I've never driven on such terrible roads. I'm always looking for a place that screams home and even though I enjoyed myself in New Orleans it isn't on my list of places I would stay. The whole state is messy with garbage and I didn't feel 100% safe walking around. I don't understand why people need to throw their litter all over the place. It's one thing that has bothered me throughout this whole trip. Even in national parks, I can be standing in the most spectacular landscape and at my feet is a discarded bottle or can. If I had one constant gripe while traveling it would be that.

Driving out of New Orleans you can still see the remnants of both hurricane Katrina and hurricane Isaac. Off to the side of I-10 I saw a whole business area which looked abandoned so I decided to investigate. There was a theater, some office buildings and department stores all smashed and boarded up. This is what I saw.

After leaving there I came across an abandoned hospital. The doors were wide open and the place was completely empty. I had a conversation with someone about the ethics of being an urban explorer. It's an unwritten rule that you enter and leave a place without disturbing anything. I hate to see people destroying a place but on the other hand I do love the graffiti. In the case of this place it made it all the more photogenic.

Now I'm in Florida and about to take a break from the first lag of my trip to work on some pieces to send home to Argyle Fine Art. I am looking forward to staying put for a while and working on the hundreds of photographs I've taken in the last three months. It has all become a bit of a blur but I know memories will come flooding back as I go through and edit what I've recorded. I continue to thank my lucky stars for the life I am leading and don't take a single day for granted.

Trusting my gut and staying safe.

I get asked a lot if there have been times I've felt unsafe or threatened and I can honestly say I can count the times on one hand. In three months of travel I have accepted help from a lot of people and only turned down a couple. I  may have missed out on great opportunities by declining an offer but as the saying goes, I would rather be safe than sorry.

Friends have told me they don't know if they could be as trusting as I am but when you are traveling and living from moment to moment I think you may surprise yourself. The kindness of strangers is always surprising and my first instinct is often to back away and say no thanks. I have learned if I take a moment to listen to what I am being offered and watch body language I can tell if it's a threatening situation or not. Sometimes it's just a small doubt in the back of my mind that doesn't dissipate during the conversation. Like I said, I may judge wrong but so far I have trusted my gut and have had no problems whatsoever.

I think the first time I declined an offer for a shower and place to stay was from a Norwegian man I came across in Texola, Texas. We were heading to the same place and he already had a room booked there. He offered for me to meet up with him, have dinner and a shower. I did take his phone number but didn't contact him. I wasn't comfortable meeting someone at a hotel to take a shower. This seems like a no-brainer but honestly if I had a better vibe I would have gone. Most of me thought it would be harmless but that small voice disagreed. So, I didn't accept.

In Indiana, I was offered a room in a motel-turned-apartments. I stopped to take photos of the motel's neon sign and the owner just happened to be there. He struck up a conversation with me and I learned all about his family and how he came to own the motel. When he learned what I am doing he offered me a vacant room for the night. My caution voice was there then too but it was different. I have learned over the last three months the different levels of gut instincts. It's natural to be guarded with strangers. We have been told our whole lives to be careful of strangers, don't talk to strangers etc. so I think we are always a bit guarded. I have found there is a difference between my natural, ingrained defensiveness with strangers and the serious warning voice. It takes time to recognize the difference but my general rule is if the voice is accompanied by a gut feeling I decline and move on, possibly missing out on something but possibly avoiding a dangerous situation.

In Louisiana, I made a goal of photographing the abandoned Six Flags park in New Orleans. I drove around the park and scouted out where I could park that would be far enough away not to draw attention to it. I ended up leaving my van a lot farther away than I thought. I began walking and right away a car turned around with a young guy and girl and their dog in the back.  They came to ask if I had broken down and needed a ride somewhere. I immediately sized them up, looking around the car and studying their faces. I told them where I was heading and they offered me a ride. I took it. There was nothing out of the ordinary there and I felt no threat at all. On the way back to my van a guy in a beat up truck offered to drive me and I declined. I still don't know why I did but 'no thanks' came out of my mouth before I even thought about it. Sometimes it just happens that way and I don't question it.

Yesterday I decided to take a walk through the French Quarter during the day to take some photographs. Just as I crossed the street I saw two porta potties, but they were both locked. From out of nowhere a guy approaches me and wants to lead me to a hotel where I can use their bathrooms. I feel like he might be a hustler but there are so many people around I follow him. He tells me where I can find a free Thanksgiving dinner, free showers and free places to stay. He has only been in Nola for a few months and has learned the ropes. For the 3 minutes I am walking with him I am studying his face, the road names and all the shops around me. I have my hand on my purse the entire time as well. When he points to the hotel I thank him for his help and walk in the direction of the door. As I approach I can see there are door men holding the door for people and the car pulling up, filled with people who are checking in, looks pretty normal. I was thinking he was leading me to something sketchy and it actually turned out to be a nice place and a much needed pee break. I'm not saying he's not a hustler though. I met him later in the streets and he said, 'Where are you going? I'm trying to hook up with you". I simply responded with a very stern NO and he politely left me alone.

I would never suggest there aren't bad people out there but I am saying that it would be a great thing if we all just let our guard down a little and trusted more. Learning to trust your voice of caution and studying your surroundings is the best defense you have. Not being afraid to be forceful with language is another thing I've learned. Who cares if I offend some person I will never see again if it keeps me safe. I love people and my trip would be nothing without the interactions with them. In the end, they need to trust me as well. The people who have taken me into their homes or made dinner for me don't know me from Adam either so they are also taking a risk.  Thank heavens they take a chance on me because they have helped shape this journey more than they know.

The more I see the more things look the same.

The more I drive the more each town looks alike. I don’t necessarily mean the old centers of town but the surrounding areas. Each town or city is surrounded by the same big box stores all over America. They are all familiar as I see them taking over the outskirts of my home town as well. Home Depot, Walmart and all the common fast food places like McDonald’s, Subway and Burger King are the familiar facades I see every day and they are always busy. The marked “Historic Downtowns” are often quiet with few shops open. In Truth or Consequences, NM, I walked the quiet streets looking at all the vacant storefronts and saw very few people. This is pretty common in my experience. Drive a bit outside of the downtown and there are all the people in their vehicles, loading up on what they “need” from the big department stores.

I don’t go into cities very often, preferring to stay in the countryside and in small towns where I hope to get a more ‘authentic’ feel for the place. It’s a struggle when I’m in a city like New Orleans, where I will be later today, to find the less touristy places. In an attempt to experience the real Nola (what locals call New Orleans) I have found a host through Couchsurfing. It’s my first time using this site but I have heard many good things about it. The guy who has agreed to let me park in his carport is a thrift store junkie like me and he has offered to take me yard-saling tomorrow. I’m not against doing the touristy things and will be sure to see the French Quarter and take in some of the common sights but I also want to get behind the scenes a little.

In the same vein I wanted very badly to go on a swamp tour, a very touristy thing indeed. I called ‘A Cajun Swamp Man’ whom I got a pamphlet for at the tourist bureau. He wasn’t going out that day and gave me the number for Jimmy. I just happened to pull into the restaurant he launches the tour from and was lucky to be about 20 minutes early. I’m really glad it turned out the way it did because he was not only cheaper but had a much smaller boat with only seven people going. Turns out the other tour holds up to 40 people! I, of course, was the only person there traveling alone. I encounter this all the time and have learned to accept people asking where the other part of my party is. In fact, when I called they booked me in for two people.

The tour lasted about 2.5 hours and was a mere $15. Jimmy was a great guide and told us stories of his parents hunting and trapping snakes and gators for a living in the 1950s. They used very simple tools. They would go out in a flat bottomed canoe and he used a long pole to find the gators on the bottom. When he found one he’d poke and prod at it until it was angry enough to come to the surface at which time she would kill it by a hatchet to the head. Back then they were only killed for their hides so if it was too big to put in the boat they’d skin it there and throw the rest back. And if that wasn’t dangerous enough she also hunted snakes with her bare hands!

Although it isn’t alligator season we did manage to witness two of them sunning themselves by the banks of the swamp. We also saw many turtle and an amazing array of birds. I didn't quite see what I imagined I would and am going to continue looking for other swamp tours. I was hoping to get deeper in and see the huge trees growing out of the water. Still, it was a great way to spend the afternoon.

 I ended the day with a big bowl of chicken and sausage gumbo at the Bayou Delight restaurant. I asked the waitress if she knew a place I could park for the night and she suggested a little spot down the road. I was worried I'd get asked to move but I didn't. I slept by a river under some hanging moss trees. It was a lovely spot.

What do I want?

Before I left home someone asked me what I hoped to get from this trip. At the time I think I said I wanted freedom and the time to be creative; to see what I'm made of.

After spending the night at the Big Thicket RV Park Okie and I went for a three hour walk in the Big Thicket National Preserve just north of Beaumont, Texas. I had been driving all day from Austin and really wanted a place to cook supper, have a shower and fall asleep. I found a pamphlet at the tourist bureau for this RV Park and decided to head for it, seeing as it would be close to our walk the next day. Well, this is one for the books. I found the place and as I drove in I noticed a lot of barbed wire around the office building, which was really their house. A small sign saying office lead me up the stairs to the front door. Arlene greeted me and I couldn't help but ask, why all the barbed wire? She said it was all forest there when they were building their house and people were stealing their supplies so they put up the fence. Then, in almost the same breath, she said it was there when they got there. I didn't press matters any further. I was too tired, hungry and dirty to care. She told me the showers haven't been open for a while so she'd have to open it for me. She very kindly swept the bugs out of the shower stall and I supplied my own toilet paper. What can I say? I live in a van, I have low standards!

Office surrounded by barbed wire.

 So, back to our morning walk. There was only one other car there when I arrived and I didn't run into the driver and his dog until we were on our way back to the van. We had three blissful hours to ourselves in the woods. It was so quiet. The morning air was chilly but it warmed up over the day. I absolutely LOVE going for walks/hikes with Okie off-leash. It makes for a much better time for both of us. She stays with me, either walking ahead or falling behind but always waiting or catching up. She stops when I do and waits for me to take my photos before continuing on.

Looking forward to seeing a swamp but the water left.

Okie waits for me to take photos.

I can't even express how happy that makes me. Recognizing that, I started to think about what else makes me happy. Would this give me the answer to what I want to get out of this?

So, number one is easy. I am happiest walking in the woods/trail with Okie, coffee in hand and camera on shoulder. I am happiest when I have the space and time to work on my art. I am happiest when I am traveling. I am happiest when I feel like I'm actively participating in my life instead of following routine and being a slave to my alarm clock. When I have finished this journey, if I finish, I want to be sure of what I want next. If I look at the happiest places in my mind I can see myself in a small house in the country, but close to a city, with a studio space, a couple of dogs and lots of nature to walk in. Oh, and the ability to travel when I need to find inspiration. Sounds ideal doesn't it?

If there's one thing I've learned it's that I can make things happen if I want them bad enough. There's nothing wrong with setting my sights on another goal (when I'm ready) that seems completely out of my reach. I didn't always believe I could pull this off but working towards it and making it reality has been a major accomplishment in my life. Hard work, sacrifice and patience is all I need.

Long highways make for deep thought

It's not always possible to avoid driving the interstates, unless you are driving something that can do back roads and dirt roads. If you've been following my trip you already know I can't go off-roading in my van or I have to dig myself out. Lately between destinations I have been driving long, straight highways that vanish far off on the horizon. Seventeen miles looks a lot further when you can actually see your destination on the flat landscape.

I love driving so I have that to my advantage, but even I get a little stir crazy when there's not much to see and the road goes on forever. One can only play drums on the steering wheel or have one-sided conversations with your dog for so many hours. So, I have a lot of time to think. Recently I have been contacted by a couple of magazines who want to do stories about my travels and the Barter Van. The questions they ask have given me lots to think about and reflect on. A common question is what has been my favorite experience so far. There's not one experience in particular that I like more than others. It comes down to the people I've met and how those interactions have helped shape my journey. I have always been a bit of a loner but without the social interaction and kindness of strangers it would be a completely different trip. I actually met someone once who told me they don't care about what other people do or think. I was kind of floored by that! I can't get enough of other peoples stories and have been accused of talking too much to cashiers and waitresses. I have been lucky to meet, and still be in touch with, so many wonderful individuals.

Time goes by so quickly. I can't believe I've been on the road for nine weeks already. It's a bit of a blur. In all my conversations everyone agrees that time goes by too quickly. When people ask why I finally made the decision I tell them it's about time. There's no telling I will make it to be elderly and there's no time like the present. I think I've always had this preoccupation with the passing of time and growing old. It's what propels me to do things now as opposed to waiting. I've had a number of emails and conversations with older people who commend me for doing what I'm doing and wishing they had. As much as I wish they had of too, selfishly it just reaffirms what I'm doing.

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the bartering idea. The van starts conversations with people about bartering and it helps. I considered taking the magnets off until I've made some new pieces to trade and have a new way of approaching it but I like that it makes people ask questions. I still have a lot of questions myself about it but I haven't given up. As I watch my bank account dwindle I know I'm going to have to make it work. I'm just stubborn enough to make it happen.

So, I leave now to drive what's been described as one of the longest, straightest and most dull stretches of highway yet. I wish I could have an inner tape recorder to record my thoughts for further posts. I do my best thinking while staring at the lines on the road....

Living in a van full-time.

I've been a bit slack on the updates but it's because I have been staying put in Phoenix for the last four days or so. I foolishly left my bank card in an ATM and the bank shredded it. I've been playing the waiting game at my friends place for it's replacement so I can continue on my way. In the meantime, I will share this potentially boring, hopefully informative post.

When I tell people I'm living in a van they are very eager to see the inside. When I show them they are often surprised that I have everything I need. I was talking to someone the other day who has spent quite a bit of time living in vans and we both experience lots of questions about the everyday practicalities of living in a van full time. I thought since my site says it's also about the van-dwelling lifestyle I should dedicate a post to it.

Before I left I was a night person, going to bed between 12am and 2am but since being on the road my bedtime arrives much earlier. I tend to start looking for a place to sleep around dinner time. I don't care to drive after the sun sets because I can't see what I may be passing by. We pull into our spot for the night, be it an RV park or the side of the road, I feed Okie and myself and then if my laptop is powered up I go through my photos from the day. If that's not an option I read or write or often just sit with Okie in silence.

The mornings have virtually the same routine as home except now I spend a good 10 minutes snuggling and playing with Okie before we have to venture out into the cold. Then it's coffee for me and breakfast for her. I have a small portable butane stove and an old perk coffee pot which I either set up outside or, if I'm not somewhere I can do that, put it on the floor of the van with the doors open. There have been times finding the butane cartridges has been difficult so I've had to rig up my propane BBQ to perk my oh-so-necessary morning brew.  It turns out the pot won't perk if its just placed on the BBQ so I had to use tinfoil to concentrate the heat under the pot. It will work but it uses up a lot of propane. I have learned to drink my coffee black.... and often cold.

It is impossible to keep the floor clean. Every morning while the coffee is brewin' I tidy up. I did the same thing when I had an apartment. I put everything back in it's proper place and sweep the floor. I enter and exit the side doors so frequently that I bring in all the dirt, sand, mud and whatever little bits of nature that decides to attach itself to my shoes. I always have a small cloth hanging by the door to wipe Okie's feet off and to wipe everything off the floor and out the door. Every little thing has to have it's own spot in the van and if too many items are out of place it makes my home messy quickly. I have one shelf for food an another for dishes and such. Under the bed is the largest storage space where I keep towels and bedding, extra shoes and sneakers, BBQ, fold-up chair and table and extra supplies. Often, when I have to get to something it involves moving other items out of the way. I've gotten used to having to shuffle things around and arranging stuff so the most often used is the easiest to get to.

My food is kept in the fridge, of course, but I seldoml have power so I buy a bag of ice every day or two to keep it working like an icebox. I keep it modestly stocked so nothing goes to waste. I am now thinking I need to attach a bungee cord around the front of the fridge. Many times while driving the door has flung open sending various items tumbling out. It is important to always put the heavier things, like a jug of water, on the bottom shelf because it seems to stay put better. Just recently I absentmindedly put a jug back in on the second shelf and it came flying out on a sharp left turn sending water all over the place. It's quite hazardous when trying to keep your eyes on the road.

The sink has two containers under it; one full of water for doing dishes and the other empty to catch the drainage. I have to keep an eye on the drainage jug because if it spills over it is a disgusting, smelly mess. Think of cold, greasy, rotting food-water. It will only overflow once and you will never neglect it again. The clean water jug gets filled up any time I stay at an RV park. I recently bought a small hose so when I have the opportunity to hook up I have running water through the taps instead of using the little pumping arm to bring the water up from the jug through a smaller spout. On the counter I have fastened, with strong double-sided tape, a basket to store bread, bananas granola bars and other food stuffs which don't fit in my food cupboard. If I sit on my toilet, which has a cover making it look like a little ottoman, I can prepare meals on the counter. If I could change one thing about my van it would be the height of the ceiling. I didn't think I would mind not being able to stand but I am a tall girl and bending over all the time hurts the back.

I was never good at cleaning the bathroom when I had an apartment but I would take that any day over dealing with my portable toilet. RV parks and some gas stations provide dump sites for my Campa Potti. It is in two sections, the top one needs to be filled with water for flushing and the bottom partly filled with a cleaner/deodorizer added. I use it as little as possible but I'm very happy I have it.

I believe the bed is queen size which allows for the large amount of storage space under it but it is much larger than I need for me and the little one. I use half of the bed, against the back doors, to keep two suitcases for my clothes and dirty laundry bag. I had intentions of doing laundry in the van using the natural movement of the van while driving to agitate a bucket of soapy water. I read about this method in Steinbeck's "Travels with Charley" and thought it was a great idea, however, I've never gotten myself organized enough to do it that way. I've been using laundromats, campgrounds and peoples houses. I have a clothes line in the back, stretching from one side of the van to the other where I hang my jackets and sweaters. The same line is also used to dry my wet towel after taking a shower. Before I left I bought a solar shower bag I planned on using but haven't used it yet. Instead, I have paid as little as $.50 and as much as $5.00 for a shower. In between having access to a shower I take bird-baths at gas stations and truck stops. I will never take cleanliness for granted ever again. A person only needs to go three days without a proper shower for it to feel like heaven when you finally get one.

At the fear of making this post too long I think I'll stop here. Maybe I have left out some details. If you have any other questions about my day-to-day life traveling and living in a van don't hesitate to ask. Thanks for stopping by.

How's the bartering going?

When I was planning on setting out on this journey I did a lot of reading and researching on how people make money to keep on traveling. It is a necessary evil if you want to travel full time. Money runs out and I knew I would have to think about the practicalities of continuing on at some point.

Much of what I read talked about using your skills and interests to generate income. Being an art school grad my skills are all creative-based so I have to work with that. This is when I came up with the bartering idea. It was my intention to trade my art and photography skills for things I need, like food, showers, power hook-ups etc. It was quite naive and probably a bit egotistical of me to think the things I make or do are of value to other people, especially with the economy being the way it is. Apart from me leaving gifts for people who have let me stay with them, business owners and such need to feed their families and pay their bills, not get a postcard or a piece of art from a traveler wandering through.

I have had a few successful trades with people though, including a package of my postcards for a t-shirt from the American Sign Museum and another package for a room for the night in an old motel turned apartments. I attempted once to barter with a route 66 motel, photographing the place and then offering to make postcards for them to sell. I thought it would be a great way to have the luxury of a room every now and then while getting some of my work out there. Although the caretaker of the motel and I became friends, he wasn't interested in my proposal and we ended up talking more about the fact he had just lost his job and how tough times are. I think that was the moment I realized my naivete.

Another part of the problem with this idea is my shyness when selling my craft. Most artists, and this definitely includes me, are terrible at self-promotion. I hadn't thought through the idea of how to approach people or even what I was going to approach them with. Yes, I take photographs but not really ever of people so what was I planning on doing for them? I am someone who doesn't always think things through and tend to fly by the seat of my pants, with a logical head of course.

So, I am at a point where I need to re-evaluate the bartering idea or come up with another plan altogether. I'm not disheartened by any of this but reality is different than what I dreamed up before I hit the road. Suggestions are welcome.

Onwards and upwards!

What a week!

This past week has been a true test of my strength, spirit, smarts and sense of humor. I think I've failed as an intelligent tourist but excelled at keeping my wits about me.

While still in Utah, Okie and I went for a walk behind the land we were camped out on. About 30 minutes back on the trail I stopped once again to give us both water. It was a hot, sunny desert day. I'm very diligent about checking for creepy-crawlies before I put down my pack or let Okie stand still for any length of time. This time I failed to see the red ant hill beside me. I was getting our water out when I saw Okie trying to shake an ant off her paw. I immediately swatted it off. She wouldn't put her paw down and when I got her to walk she limped. The first thing that rushed to my mind was fire ants, poisonous fire ants! I scooped Okie up and started jogging back to the van. I'll admit I panicked. I kept repeating out loud, 'this is all my fault, please don't die on me'. She became limp and her eyes were closing but I wasn't letting her go to sleep. At this point I'm holding back the tears. I'm hot, thirsty and fear dehydrating but I'm moving as fast as I can. Back at the van I put her down and she slumps onto her side. I then run to the camping spot next to mine, huffing and puffing, to see if they know where a vet is when out of nowhere Okie is standing next to me, tail wagging. I don't know if she was just tired and wanted me to carry her but I finally allowed myself to cry. I was so happy to see her ok it didn't matter why she was so unresponsive before. Now I know she's learned to jump out of the van.

Two days later, now just outside of Death Valley, it's getting dark so I pull over into what looks like a gravel alcove. I figured I would be off the road enough to go fairly undetected for the night. As soon as I drove 10 feet in I could tell the gravel wasn't as hard-packed as it appeared to be. I was stuck. There was no going forward or backwards. My tires sank deeper and deeper into the ground. The road, as desolate as it was, had a fair amount of traffic so I decided to give up for the night and hopefully flag someone down in the morning who could pull me out. It struck me as funny, the idea I was in the situation so many people warned me about. I was in the middle of the desert, van stuck in the ground and my cell phone had no reception. I made a peanut butter sandwich and went to bed. In the morning I made coffee and prepared myself for the possibility I would have to dig myself out. Thank goodness for friends who think of things I don't. I was given a bag of survival stuff by a good friend and in it was a shovel. I could have kissed him if he was there...and not married. I didn't need it though, this time. The first vehicle I flagged down happened to be a highway patrol truck and he had me out of there in 10 minutes. What a feeling it was to be back on the road.

I had wanted to go back into Death Valley that morning to go hiking but my mind was on the 'check engine' light that was now on. Before getting stuck however, I had spent the day in Death Valley and let me tell you it's quite the place. I've never seen such a vast expanse of nothing and felt so destitute, even though there were sporadic cars carrying other tourists. Okie and I did go for a short hike to a location I believe was used in one of the Star Wars movies. Okie is quite the adventure dog. She is often ahead of me, scaling rocks and then looking at me as if to say, 'are you coming or what?' She's the one who gets me exploring when I'd usually still be thinking about whether I want to go in, up or under there. Who says little dogs aren't good for hiking?!

The hills looked like they were oozing towards the road.

The badlands where I wanted to hike.

Our hike to the natural bridge.

Okie climbing a dry waterfall.

Not snow. It's salt forming on the dry lake bed.

262 feet below sea level.

Freed from the gravel, we were cruising along towards the San Bernardino National Forest. I had been driving through so much desert I wanted to balance it with a hike through some trees. On the way I stumble upon an abandoned water park. In the desert. I can't imagine why this place went under. (insert sarcastic tone). But, lucky for me it did and it made for a fun little excursion for the two of us. It was surprisingly clean and free of glass so I felt perfectly at ease letting Okie explore, as she likes to do. She's a wonderful companion and loves to wander and check things out but always has her eye on me, following wherever I go. We had the place to ourselves and spent a good amount of time walking and taking photos. 

After spending the night 7000 feet up in the National Forest I cut through San Bernardino and headed for a drive on a secondary highway towards Quartzsite, AZ, where I hear there is more BLM land to camp on for free. On the way I drove by the Imperial Sand Dunes recreational area where people drive like crazy over the dunes. I have never seen or been out on real desert sand dunes and could hardly contain my child-like excitement about running around on them. I parked and the two of us went tearing around like crazies. It's like a giant sandbox for the little one and she was having a blast right along with me. 

Okie and my footprints

Just down the road I saw a bunch of trailers and RVs parked and since it was getting late I chose to stay there for the night instead of trying to make it to Quartzsite in the dark. After all, this spot was free camping too. Then, I become the uneducated tourist again and decide to pull over in an area which is far away from everyone else. Turns out there is a good reason why no one else had decided to set up there. Yup, you guessed it. Stuck again. This time in very soft sand and I knew it was happening but I reacted too late. What else does someone like me do in this situation? Make another PB sandwich and take long exposures of the van stuck in the desert.

I woke really early in the morning knowing the sun would get hotter as the day went on and I imagined I would have a long morning of digging ahead of me. The digging wouldn't start until after I made the morning pot of coffee though. This is when the shovel was a much appreciated gift. After letting a lot of the air out of my tires to give them more surface to grip I dug out the wheels and made a path under the van. This would get me about 15 feet before my back wheels would spin and get buried again. Coffee break, then repeat the digging and moving 10 feet. I kept thinking of all the ways this could be worse and it kept my mood up. It could have been mud I was stuck in. It could have been raining or I could have stopped in quicksand. I knew I would get out eventually.  It took me a good two hours to make it to hard land and what excitement when I reached it. We danced and jumped around in the sand, clapping and cheering, even though Okie had no idea what was so exciting. She had spent the last two hours chasing the sand I was throwing and digging holes net to me to bury sticks I had dug up. At one point she had me laughing my head off as she barked and chased a tumbling plastic bag across the dunes. Having her around really does help make light of things. Oh, to be a dog.

The sense of accomplishment I felt when I finally got the van out was pretty awesome. There's nothing quite like feeling you can do things on your own, especially when it involves vehicles. Once on solid ground I had to put air back in the tires and this time a friends thoughtful trade at my last yard sale saved my butt. He had traded me a tire pump that plugs into the lighter of the van. Still drinking coffee, I hooked it up tire by tire and re-inflated them. Again, how awesome I felt to not have to ask for help. I am safe and have learned much, all while keeping a strong head and I will never pull off the road without checking things out again. Time to be a smart tourist.

Pushing myself.

Let me share some personal info. It is a bit hard to put out there but I feel it's important to this story. For as long as I can remember I have dealt with blues, or 'low mood' as some call it. It is not something I am ashamed of admitting but I do think diagnosing people with clinical depression (which I have never been) and prescribing meds for it is WAY overdone. I have my own theories about why it seems to be such a wide-spread problem. My main hypothesis is that we, as individuals, have been sold the idea we can be or do whatever we want. So when we aren't fulfilling our dreams or making millions we feel like failures. I also think in our industrial, commercial age, we have far too much time on our hands to think about things and ponder our 'purpose' in life. The reason I am sharing this is because since leaving on my journey there had only been one day where I felt a bit lost and wondered what the hell I am doing....until this past Friday evening.

I arrived in Flagstaff on Friday and felt that lost feeling again. I wasn't sure which direction to head in. The nights are getting much colder so heading north to Utah, which is what I wanted, seemed like it may not be a good idea. I sat on the floor of the van for hours, drinking coffee and not doing much else but staring into space. I called a few people to get connected again with home. It was great to hear their voices but it made me feel more lonely in the end. Looking at the map I decided to stop being a wimp and head north to the Grand Canyon first. It was on my way and I wanted to see some places I missed when I was there last May. 

I made it to Sunset Crater but the sun had already set. I pulled over where another RV was parked and crawled into bed for the night. We were asleep early and therefor up at the crack of dawn. It's always great waking up and seeing the place I've parked in the daylight. I was surrounded my mountains and the air was crisp. Sunset Crater is a dormant volcano that erupted a long time ago leaving the landscape forever changed. Okie was not allowed on the trail over the lava flows so I walked it alone with coffee in hand. Half way through I stopped and sat in the silence for a while. It was a wonderful way to start my day and I thought I had beaten the blues.

We arrived at Grand Canyon around 3:30 so I paid for a campsite and made dinner in time to get to the canyon edge to watch the sunset. I don't know what came over me but as the sun went down I started to weep. It wasn't because it was the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen or other tears of joy. I felt an overwhelming sense, looking out over the vast, slowly darkening canyon, of how alone I actually am. How little and insignificant. How far away I am from everyone I love. I made a promise to myself to get up early and hike a ways down into the canyon.

I woke at the crack of dawn again. What should have happened next is I spring out of bed all rested and pumped to get out there but I couldn't make myself get up. This is one of the things about feeling blue is you have absolutely no energy to do anything. I laid there making all kinds of excuses about why I COULDN'T go hiking; I don't have the proper shoes, I don't have a back-pack to carry provisions, I have nowhere to put Okie for the day, and so on. I wasted a few hours lying there feeling shitty. Then I forced myself to get up into the cold air. I walked to the washrooms with my toothbrush in hand and in my path stood a herd of elk. They looked so majestic in the rising sunlight. We stood and looked at each other for a while then they moved on. It was a bit humbling.

I got us all packed up and headed over to the back country hiking info office to ask some questions about proper footwear and such. The man there told me my running sneakers were fine. What about Okie though? He advised against the kennel services offered in the park and suggested I do a shorter hike, leaving her in the van where she would be less terrified and constrained. What would I carry my water etc in? I remembered I was given a picnic backpack before I left and if I took all the dishes out it would work just fine. So, I had no more excuses. I took Okie for a walk, grabbed a coffee and hopped the bus to the trail head, arriving at 10:30.

Upon descending, the first woman I passed asked how I was doing. I said I was good but wished I had started earlier. Her response was. “well, at least you started”. She had no idea how true her words were and how much I needed to hear that. The hike down was amazing and fairly easy but each step I took downwards would inevitably be a step back up and I knew it would be an arduous climb. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the further down I got the warmer it was. I made it to the first rest area where I planned to turn around and go back up but I could see the next point and I wanted to go. I would make a decision to turn around there but when I arrived I wanted to see what was around the next bend. If it wasn't for Okie being in the van I would have been gone for a long, long time. 

half way to turning point

view at lunch break

On my agonizing climb back up I met Joe. He's a 23 year old who works in the canyon, hiking the trails to manage the compost toilets placed in the canyon. We hiked up to the first landing together and chatted about the usual things; where are you from? Where are you going? Etc. He then extended an invitation to stay in one of the cabins back at his living quarters. The rest of his crew were laid off for the season and he was the only one left. I had planned on leaving the canyon that evening but the best thing about traveling the way I do is I can always change my mind. I accepted. I made us some supper and we drank beer and shared travel stories. He has now gone off on a two day hike into the canyon for work and left me here to do laundry, wash my dishes, cook, take a shower and basically help myself to whatever I want. It doesn't escape me the way things turned out. Because I pushed myself to go, because the man suggested a different trail, because I left so late I met Joe and ended up having a great night and now have a little cabin, with heat no less, to hang out in all by myself. It amazes me that I eventually seem to get what I need with a little bit of pushing on my part.

my own cabin

It's common knowledge that exercise is one of the best things for getting your serotonin pumping and I can tell you it's true. I am feeling like myself again and am so proud of myself for pushing through the feelings I would have let overcome me in the past. People who don't have problems with the blues don't really get it and I'm happy they don't. I am lucky that mine is manageable but it takes work on my part to keep it under control. There are so many amazing things in my life I have no reason to spend time wallowing in any kind of self-pity. So, if you ever find yourself feeling lazy and unable to push yourself, do it! You'll feel so much better in the end. I know I do.