We've been quiet, for a while, and this blog post is just about one-year-to-the-day overdue. This time last year, we were living out our last days, for the foreseeable future, with Penny, parked on the beach in La Ventana. Since then, we've been attempting to assimilate to life off the road, which doesn't inspire the same spark to write as does traveling, kitesurfing and side-of-the-road repairs.
After a crazy first couple of days battling the elements, the pace turned. Jacqui and I were in our first Caravan; It's a fascinating concept when you think of it. Three groups all huddled together that have one thing in common: They decided to leave all familiarity behind, squeeze themselves into a claustrophobic home on wheels and brave whatever forces stand in their way, for what essentially amounts to an extreme sports version of a road trip.
For three winters in a row the tradition has remained the same. Visit all our BFF's on our way to the border, spend a few days gathering supplies, then pull an early morning crossing.
This time the sky itself seemed to inform us we were in for something new.
After 9 weeks in the beautiful Columbia Gorge we were officially setting sail. Our time in the Big Red House was over and I was abandoning my boss at Mark's Auto to deal with the long line of cars needing repair on his own. Sorry el jefe, adventure awaits, and so does a friend in need.
After 4,000 miles of freedom from mechanical difficulties we firmly believed we'd been released from Jerry's injection-pump-purgatory to wreak adventure-based havoc upon the world. We were wrong. Jerry's talons of injection-incompetence had only temporarily released us to give us false hope.
So in the great journey that is us staying on the road, we're staying put for a bit. It was finally time for us to take a lesson from so many Canadians we met south of the border: work hard somewhere you love while the weather is good, and get out of there as soon as it gets cold.
Staying on the road full-time seems to be a true test of creativity. What skills do you have? How can you monetize those skills in a way to allow you to spend more of your life living and less of it working? When Jacqui and I figure out the answer, I'm sad to say, it probably won't help you. But if you figure it out, it probably wouldn't work for us either.
We've been quiet, for a while, and this blog post is just about one-year-to-the-day overdue. This time last year, we were living out our last days, for the foreseeable future, with Penny, parked on the beach in La Ventana. Since then, we've been attempting to assimilate to life off the road, which doesn't inspire the same spark to write as does traveling, kitesurfing and side-of-the-road repairs.
Three vessels and their crews had joined.
After a crazy first couple of days battling the elements, the pace turned. Jacqui and I were in our first Caravan; It's a fascinating concept when you think of it. Three groups all huddled together that have one thing in common: They decided to leave all familiarity behind, squeeze themselves into a claustrophobic home on wheels and brave whatever forces stand in their way, for what essentially amounts to an extreme sports version of a road trip.
re·sil·ience
noun
the ability of a substance or object to spring back into shape; elasticity.
the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.
For three winters in a row the tradition has remained the same. Visit all our BFF's on our way to the border, spend a few days gathering supplies, then pull an early morning crossing.
This time the sky itself seemed to inform us we were in for something new.
An open, clean, clear, and free road! A beautiful thing to fantasize about, but Jacqui and I weren't going to be seeing any of that soon.
After 9 weeks in the beautiful Columbia Gorge we were officially setting sail. Our time in the Big Red House was over and I was abandoning my boss at Mark's Auto to deal with the long line of cars needing repair on his own. Sorry el jefe, adventure awaits, and so does a friend in need.
After 4,000 miles of freedom from mechanical difficulties we firmly believed we'd been released from Jerry's injection-pump-purgatory to wreak adventure-based havoc upon the world. We were wrong. Jerry's talons of injection-incompetence had only temporarily released us to give us false hope.
So in the great journey that is us staying on the road, we're staying put for a bit. It was finally time for us to take a lesson from so many Canadians we met south of the border: work hard somewhere you love while the weather is good, and get out of there as soon as it gets cold.
Staying on the road full-time seems to be a true test of creativity. What skills do you have? How can you monetize those skills in a way to allow you to spend more of your life living and less of it working? When Jacqui and I figure out the answer, I'm sad to say, it probably won't help you. But if you figure it out, it probably wouldn't work for us either.