Almost a year and a half ago I wrote about what it is like living full-time on the road in an RV. As I look back on that post, most of it is still true, but as often happens, things change.
The biggest change since I wrote that post is I now have, what I like to call, a “real” job. The very fact that I have to work Monday-Friday, 8 hours a day (though not always in a row), has changed how I live. These changes are neither good nor bad, they just are, and they impact how my life works. The best change? A steady paycheck (haven’t had that since my mid-20s, it’s pretty wild).
Another major difference this time around is related to time; last year I was away from Minnesota mid-December to mid-March, three months in total. While that’s nothing to sneeze at, this time around I’ve already been gone for six months – and plan on being gone for a total of nine.
Nine months is a long time to be on the road. During that time, I’ve encountered some hurdles I didn’t expect, things I didn’t even think about my first time out.
First, I’m often tired of doing things. I know, poor me, but hear me out. Over the past six months I have not spent more than six nights in the same spot. Most of the time I’m staying in a location for one to two nights, then moving on.
Can you even imagine the logistics of that? I have to, usually a month or six weeks in advance, map out where I’m going, what I want to do, and where I’m staying. This is constant.
Florida was truly the worst for this. During the month of February I spent more nights parked in Cracker Barrel parking lots than anyone could even think possible (not the same one mind you, different ones almost every night). It’s not that I love Cracker Barrel (their food is okay at best and not my normal fare), but due to the fact that state parks were almost completely booked months in advance, RV parks charged at least $80/night (if they even allowed short term stays), and their were limited options on Boondockers Welcome and Harvest Hosts (my memberships that got me free stays).
Quick sidebar: Thank God for YMCAs! I took more showers at local Ys than anyone really should!
Being tired of doing things isn’t just related to the constant moving, to some extent that movement allows me to explore more of an area – and find some really great coffee shops! To give you context, I want you to think about when you plan a trip – not a vacation, a trip (there’s a difference) - the time you put into deciding where to go, where to stay, how to get there, where to eat, etc. That, right there, is my entire life. I’m not complaining, It’s amazing and I’ve experienced some extraordinary things, met amazing people, and seen wonders. But, man, is it exhausting.
Then there’s the guilt. Take Memorial Weekend. I booked a state park chosen solely because it was in the area and had available reservations. What did I do all weekend? Read in my hammock and blogged. Was it wonderful? Yes. Was it beautiful? 100%! Did I feel guilty because I was spending two of the five days I would have in Delaware seeing nothing! You betcha!
With that said, I realized after doing things for three months in Florida that I was burning out. I couldn’t keep up the pace and maintain my mental health. As the daughter of two people who don’t know how to relax (and a mother who treats every new place as a field trip), stopping and not “maximizing my time” isn't something I’ve been programmed to do. Yet, to fully enjoy the places I am experiencing, I need to take time to recharge, regroup, and just be.
Another thing that came up unexpectedly, occurred when I started experiencing serious back & hip pain (my own fault, I stopped doing yoga consistently so my broken body got angry). A month of pain later, doing as much self-care as possible (yoga twice as day, icing, pain meds, you get it), I realized I needed help. Normally I would hop on-line and book appointments with my massage therapist and my chiropractor. But that wasn’t possible, since I was a three hour flight away (say nothing for how long the drive would be). Also, remember I’m not in the same spot for long, and when pain is involved one visit to either of these people won’t solve the problem. Add to this the fact that I didn’t want any chiropractor or massage therapist, but ones that were exceptional so that they could actually help me, I was in a pickle.
Google reviews to the rescue! The massage therapist I found was a miracle worker but that was the easy one to schedule. Getting into a new doctor? More complicated. Thankfully the place I found was not only amazing, but I instantly connected with the office manager (she said she felt we’d known each other for years, how sweet is that!) and she went above and beyond to get me in twice at times that fit into my very limited availability.
While all of these things make full-time RV life interesting and often stressful, the one thing that people always ask about is if I get lonely. As with life, the answer isn’t a straightforward one.
It’s important to frame my answer with the fact that I’m an introvert. During the first weeks of Covid, when they told everyone to stay home if they weren’t essential workers, I didn’t see anyone for at least 6 weeks - except for my students (online only) and a few Zoom chats with friends and family - and I was the happiest I’d been in years (worldwide pandemic aside, of course). Another layer is that as a single person in my 30s, most of my friends are married with kids, and the ones that aren’t have very busy lives. Sadly, I often would go months without seeing some of my closest friends.
How does all this impact being lonely traveling by myself, you may ask?
Honestly, I enjoy being alone. I enjoy seeing what I want, for how long I want, and not being worried about what someone else wants or needs. While I miss having shared experiences, or talking with someone about something we just did or saw, that’s never been something I needed as a traveler.
The other thing I’ve discovered is that because I don’t have as much interactions at work (Slack chat isn’t nearly as exhausting as work small talk) and I’m not seeing people all the time, I engage with people I meet significantly more that I ever did at home. My mom said that when I was a child I would go in a situation knowing no one, and come out with a new best friend. That’s something I lost as I got older and had to spend more time around people for extended periods of time. That childhood experience is mine again.
I kayaked all day with a family in alligator-filled waters in Georgia, I hiked with an older couple around a preserve near Richmond, I engaged in an in-depth conversation with a local historic house guide about the impact of “party” tourism on Charleston culture, and basically became best friends with a National Park Ranger. Because I had the “people-energy” stored up I could have these encounters and enjoy them, while at the same time be okay never seeing these people again.
Traveling alone isn’t for everyone, but ninety percent of the time, I wouldn’t want it any other way (plus, I have Benjamin Bunny so I don’t sound crazy when I’m talking to myself, I mean, him).
There are days I daydream about putting down roots again, but as long as the good days outweigh the bad, and I still find joy in the experiences and interactions I have, I am happy with the life I have chosen. Someday, when I look back on my time on the road, I will know that I lived my life to the fullest and this time has shaped me in ways that I can’t even fathom today. Not everyone can, or should, live the RV life. However, if you can’t say the same about your own life, my challenge to you is to find a way to not just exist, but to live your life with joy and contentment.
Insightful, informative, enlightening - and heart-felt reflections and musings...thanks for sharing! This post is a real treasure.
That was a great update on a question I had in my mind - are you still having fun. I find it great that you are exploring our country and meeting great people. You certainly will have lots of material for your many new novels you are going to write. That was your goal, wasn't it?