One story of Van-travel

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“The grand highway is crowded

with lovers

and searchers
and leavers
so eager to please,

and to forget”

  • Wilderness-

Jim morrison

 

This is not for a self-help skim(although if it helps anyone, feck yea.) I have no authority or grounds for claiming that my shit is together enough to spew advice.

It’s simply a story. One way. A thread to weave through other than the tapestry of the human web of dreams, tears, sex, love, adventure. Lust and boredom, choices I forgot days of great movement… private and hungry, it’s a thread of something bigger.

 

Vanliving

 

It’s going to suck.

There will be some nights when you sleep in a parking lot of a hospital because residential camping is frowned upon.

Well-meaning cops will tap on your door as you try to watch a quiet movie on the iPad without showing light through the window curtains, almost as embarrassed as you are.

You will have to pee in suburban home bushes while unsuccessfully aiming away from your shoes.

You’ll wake up in a sweaty and furious fog when the shade you parked under mysteriously moved.

You will try to live off the 5 dollar- pallet of chalky ramen you enthusiastically purchased, but will spend a lot of nights in a bar or cafe spending $15 on a cheeseburger plate for the “free” wifi.

You will wonder if anyone notices your lack of hygiene.

You will stare longingly into lighted living rooms at night, remembering how warm four walls can feel.

Do it anyway.

 

I spent my birthday passing a bota box between two friends in the seats of our sandy van parked in the neighborhoods of San Diego, laughing at our cheap purple mouths later on when we danced at the reggae bar.

We hit the road shortly after.

 

Wet wipe showers, baby powder, and a “new”

thrifted romper do wonders for a girl’s self esteem after a sandy run around on the beaches all day. Or a misty hike through ancient northern trees.

 

In this west-coast world of contoured faces, fit tea, and eyelash extensions, it feels damn good to rock up with day 3-hair and a Chaco tan on your naked toes in any new city.

 

When we set out on our road journey with just a small savings and a loose plan of two months, I never imagined how much I would gain ( and lose for that matter).

I didn’t have resources, other than my own backpacking knowledge and a good map of the west coast national forests

 

Without calculating pretension, or calculating the art of unpretentious, I’ll do my best to walk the line with dignity… because storytelling, as we all have seen, is only as good as it’s embellishments.

Tell your story, not someone else’s .

Cheers, and see you on the road.

😉

 

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