Here we go again
He said, "I was in my early 40s with a lot of life before me
When a moment came that stopped me on a dime
I spent most of the next days looking at the X-rays
Talkin' 'bout the options and talkin' 'bout sweet time"
I asked him when it sank in
That this might really be the real end
How's it hit ya when you get that kind of news?
Man, whatcha do?
And he said
"I went skydiving, I went Rocky Mountain climbing
I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu
And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter
And I gave forgiveness I'd been denyin'"
And he said, "Some day I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dyin'"
-Tim McGraw
Last year, right around this time, I embarked on a road trip across America for over a month. I confessed in a previous post that this was my version of a mid-life crisis. I stand by that statement. I was ill prepared for a trip of that length and barely knew how to operate some aspects of my van, but I had an incredible experience nonetheless. I had conceived of that road trip to the southwest because I was seeking clarity. I was seeking purpose. I was seeking space to be truly on my own. I got all of those things, and more. It wasn't magic, it didn't fix my life. But it was the experience I needed at that time and I'll be forever grateful that I took it.
The funny thing about us humans is when we enjoy something, we want to replicate the positive experience. But bigger. Better. Like a Hollywood sequel with a bigger budget. Because I'm unoriginal (though not as unoriginal as Hollywood) I started thinking about another road trip almost immediately when I returned home last year. I felt like I came home before I was ready for it to be over. When I'd finally gotten the hang of things and found a routine and a flow that worked for me. Last time I built a trip around National Parks and bucket list mountain biking destinations. If it ain't broke...
As of this writing, I'm exactly one week into Road Trip 2: Road Trippier. It's a working title. Like any good sequel, the plot is familiar but the locations have changed. It's a more polished, bigger and badder road trip. At least, I'm hoping it is. You may notice a new van in the photos. I bought my old one after hastily learning as much as I could about camper vans in a short period of time. And you know what? I didn't do half bad. It got me through my adventure with only a few minor issues. But after spending 5 weeks in it for that trip and then several weekend camping trips with my dog back home, I came to understand the things I really wanted out of a van. So I did some searching and I found one that checked all (almost all) of the boxes for me. In keeping with the theme, the new van is bigger, badder and blacker. Hmm. I don't think I'm allowed say that last one, forget that part. Can blogs get canceled? Let's move along quickly.
For my planned route, bigger was once again the word. I wanted to go farther and I wanted to go for longer. So this time I'm planning 8 full weeks and I'm not stopping until I hit the Pacific Ocean. And I'm introducing a new character: Canada. I've wanted to go to the Whistler Bike Park for as long as I can remember, and my new motto is "Why Wait?". I'm just going to make the things I want to happen, happen. So here I am, currently writing from South Dakota, 2,000 miles into my journey west.
That's the what and some of the how. Let me dig a little more into the why. What am I hoping to get out of this trip? Mostly the same things as last time, truth be told. I already told you I'm unoriginal. I learned a lot about myself on my trip last year, but there's more to learn. Have you ever heard someone say they know too much about themselves? That they've achieved too much clarity about their life? It's a never-ending process and I like the crucible of van life to help focus my attention on it. But it's not just that. I thought back to my road trip often over the last year. There are a lot of things that suck about living in a small van for an extended period of time. But the same way people kind of forget about the discomfort and misery of running a marathon (they always sign up for another one don’t they?), I seemed to forget the shitty parts of van life while remembering the good days. I remembered waking up in new places and constantly seeing new things. Opening the side door in the morning to a mountain view and not another person in sight. Checking off bucket list destinations and doing them exactly the way I wanted to do them without compromising with someone else. The confidence and satisfaction I gained from being out there on my own relying on nobody but myself. There's a freedom in it that I don't know if I've really experienced anywhere else. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want, with no obligations pulling at me. I've described that feeling to some people and one person responded with, "Honestly, that sounds terrifying to me". It's something a lot of people will never experience. They go from high school to college to career to family life. Always a place to be, a next step to achieve. Maybe this type of freedom isn't for everyone. But it's for me. And it's incredible.
While I might be free, buying vans and driving thousands of miles is not. For that reason, I still work while I'm on the road. This afternoon I was in a cafe eating lunch and taking advantage of their wi-fi to do my day job. There were a couple of older (than me) people at the next table over and I couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation. At one point, one asked the other: “What would you do if you were told you only had 6 months to live?” That caused me to pause for a minute and contemplate my own answer. And I had a profound realization. What I'm doing right now is exactly what I would do if I was told I only had 6 months to live. How many people can say that? And just like that, I knew I was on the right path. I'm doing what I should be doing. Screw the financial costs, the inconveniences, the need to pause my "normal life". All those doubts in the back of my mind went out the window because...damn. That right there is another gift from the road. I happened to be sitting in that particular coffee shop, at that particular time, right next to those people, at the very moment they had that conversation. Providence? Fate? I'm not sure I believe in those things, but I believe in the peace and the gratitude I felt in that moment. That was very real. I hope everyone reading this can answer that question the same way. Let's all make Tim McGraw proud.