Hit the road

I wrapped up work with Hallmark at the end of September and and spent nearly every waking moment of October working on my van. I pushed back my departure date each week until I finally gave in to the reality of rebuilding— letting go of control. After two or three deadlines passed without reaching my goals, the build felt draining and never-ending. I was spending so much time feeling as if I was failing, and feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Finally I leaned in to spending an extra month at home, trusting I would leave when I was supposed to. The extra weeks gave me time to spend with friends and family. I was able to go to my nieces birthday, attend a party of friends I love so much, and share a few more beers with my closest friend over tacos. Slowing down allowed me to remember and enjoy all of the people and things I would miss.

In between those moments, I worked ten hours a day in the garage—sawing, painting, and problem-solving. Every single evening and many weekend days my dad would work alongside me, installing plumbing, building cabinets, or working on electrical. He handled everything that was out of reach for me, though it was a learning experience for us both. He helped me iron out every kink. My mom helped mud and paint. My brother helped with my sound system. Mike helped cut panels and tie up loose ends. Josh helped frame my bed and kickstart cabinet building. Isabella came out weekend after weekend working alongside me morning to evening. When I felt up to my ears in tasks I was unsure about, these people helped me keep going. As I look around this van I think of every second of love and care put into it by others and it fills me with so much happiness. Thank you thank you thank you all.

I spent day after day getting dirty, learning new skills and memorizing layouts to hardware stores. Some days the progress was evident and I walked away proud. Others I wondered if I was doing anything at all. I painted the walls, ceiling and cabinets a hundred times and caulked the hell out of every crack. I cleaned and painted the cab floor, laid flooring in the back, cut and filled holes in the ceiling, cut, sanded, and installed cabinet panels, coated everything in polyurethane, made cabinet doors, installed vinyl counter tops, built a space for Luna, cut and installed trim for the cabinets and floor… for starters. When I was finally able to move my things in I found a handful of other jobs. Replace the water pump. The ‘hydroboost’. New speakers under the dash. Shelf for the battery. Hinge for the sliding door. Screen for the sliding door. It wasn’t entirely finished— I need someone to wire a thermostat for my heater and diagnose my water heater problem— but it was finished enough to pull out of Independence last Monday afternoon. I woke up to a cold drizzle and knew I had to go before the snow rolled into town. I ran last minute errands and said last minute goodbyes, both happy to leave and sad to go.

Months ago I solidified my plan for my three cats. After more attempts, it was clear that Hermy would forever hate riding in a vehicle. When I first dreamt this dream a few years ago, I knew I would likely have to leave my cats behind. I knew Hermy would throw up or puke incessantly and Chai would hide and moan as the van bounced around. They are and always have been house cats, who beyond a little porch time, preferred the house. Luna, on the other hand, lived for car rides and meeting new people. She peers out the window and appears to be completely in bliss in new environments. She also needs almost constant human contact for warmth and protection. So that was it— Luna would come with me, and the girls would stay at my parents. I am only a little embarrassed to admit how difficult this decision was for me. I had previously only been away for a couple of weeks at a time. These cats are my roommates, my mates. Focusing on their wellbeing has pulled my head out of my ass so many times. I am a fully committed animal-person. I love their companionship and their calming presence. So leaving Chai and Hermy was tough, but I soften it with ‘not forever’. I tried to furnish them a ‘cat paradise’, with cat towers, open space, toys, and endless beds to nap on. I even talk to them through a pet camera and launch treats when I’m feeling generous (every single time I open the app). All I am saying is, don’t call CPS on me okay, my children are loved.

Monday night I made it to Hutchison, Kansas and slept with the electric heater running to defend us from the 20 degree temps outside. I spent another day driving through overcast and frozen lands until making it to Carrizozo, New Mexico after dark. I watched the ice build up on the edges of my windows and melt away the last hour to town. The next morning I woke up surrounded by old lava fields in a peaceful campground north of Carrizozo. I drove into the quaint city and and snapped some photos after getting a coffee at a local shop. Finally the sky was blue and the weather mild. I headed out of town and made it to Phoenix seven hours later. Here I sit, on my best friend’s couch as she teaches her first graders. Drinking her coffee and enjoying the weather Phoenix has promised today. Nearly 90 degrees. I’m finishing blogposts and scheduling appointments for work on my van. I’m starting to build the daily habits that I neglected all of October. I am still itching to get going but embracing this part of my journey. A moment to catch my breath, enjoy warm temps, and spend time with my best friend.

When I bought my van I had no idea how I would get here. For several months I wasn’t sure I would. I have had so many people reach out to encourage me in this time— with words, with help, with contributions to my GoFundMe. As I try to move away from materialism I find the best parts of life in other people. In those around me who love and support me. I only hope to return that love and support in any way I can. Thank you for helping me get here.