The roadtrip from hell
First beautiful sunny morning of the trip. We had no idea what this roadtrip had in store for us.
Our beautiful campsite at Clear Springs Park (an Army Corps park), near Texarkana.
The following night we arrived in this campsite after dark and realized the next morning that the night ended up costing us 53 US$… We had forgotten that Texas State Parks charge a daily fee per person, even for kids in the same family… And we had came here especially to ride at Réveille Ranch… which we found out just after waking up that it was closed for the week because of hunting…
Riding the Northshore Trail system, near Dallas.
Really cool techy red slickrock sections (Northshore Trail number 6, Murrel Park, TX).
Beautiful campsite with water and electricity right by great bike trails for 20$ in Pace Bend State Park, near Austin, TX.
Proudly cooking on our 20+ year old Primus stove.
It was literally raining acorns when we were there. Good thing they are cute, because they hurt when they hit your head.
We didn’t get to explore the trails much because Mara fell and got a light concussion, but the Rock Garden of Greatness was a fun challenge!
The one thing that struck me the most was how much more time we spent outside when traveling in the Westy.
And how much we were pretty much the only ones outside in the campgrounds most nights… Granted, it was cold, but it made for some magical starry sky nights.
Then, the Westy started losing power and lots of oil in the middle of nowhere. After spending the night behind a gas station, we got towed to Alpine, TX, to a small country garage where the mechanics had never worked on a VW Vanagon.
Obviously, they couldn’t solve our problem, so the day after, we got towed from Alpine to Van Horn, TX. To make things even better, the tow truck broke down on its way to us. The driver - who conveniently is also a mechanic and was towing us to his garage - fixed his truck and showed up to pick us up 6 hours after the call was placed.
He towed us to his Oasis (his RV Park -by his garage and the highway and train tracks). Quite the Oasis indeed.
It is quite the funky junk yard.
There is also a motel, a taxi company and a church on the premises where he is the preacher and offers poolside church service on Saturday nights.
That’s the inside of the church/laudromat/gym/used clothing store. We tried to work in there, but the Jesus music was too loud and there was a sign that read: “Anyone caught touching the sound system will get a broken arm.”
So we didn't dare trigger the wrath of God...
Total East Jesus meet Bombay Beach feel. There are even a few abandoned half finished cabins on the property…
But hey, Lyle found a simple temporary solution that allowed us to drive the Westy to Tucson and didn’t charge us a dime (the tow ride was paid by our roadside assistance company).
Beautiful night at Rockhound State Park, near Deming, in New Mexico. We were exhilarated to be able to drive and leave the Oasis!
It felt so amazing to be back in the wild (and to get to a spot at Indian Bread Rocks where we cannot go with the bus) after many days of parking lots night.
You know, even in the thick of it, not once did I think: if only we had a house and live a more normal life… Nope. I guess this is the ultimate nomad test. We might have found ourselves wishing we had more mechanical skills though…
On our way to Tucson, we rode a beautiful section of the Arizona Trail.
Stout is the only cactus casualty so far.
I’m usually pretty good at staying positive in the face of (road) adversity. That with choosing this lifestyle in the first place and being lucky to travel and all that… But the other day when someone reminded me to look for the silver lining - because there is always one - I thought: Is there? I mean, we were finally crawling back out of debts and now this? Back-to-back-to-back unplanned expenses. And everybody falling apart because it’s simply ridiculous to live in a Westfalia with a large dog, 2 full-time working adults and 3 teenagers doing online school many hours a day.
As I tried to fall asleep to the live country music of the saloon next door where we were stranded, I scratched my head to find that silver lining. How much can you stretch yourself before it comes flying back in your face?
That's when I thought about the people. The volunteer at a campground who wished us Merry Christmas and waved the camping fee for us when we came to pay the next morning after a late night arrival, the garage owner’s dad that looked to be at least 80 yo and told us stories of his childhood while we waited in the crummy break room, of how he used to ride his horse buggy for 3 days with his dad to get supplies in town and meet indians in skin loins. And there was Allan, our first tow truck driver, who told us amazing stories of the 10 years he worked on fishing boats in Alaska. With stars in his eyes, he told us of the seal that helped him harvest sea cucumbers and of the 94 lbs King salmon he caught, of his dream to save enough money working his towing to buy a dive boat and a piece of land near Homer. He hasn’t been back there in over 20 years, but his heart is still there.
Of course, it’s all about the people. Even if sometimes the last thing I feel like is to strike a conversation in the stuffy overheated back seat of a tow truck. Even if at 7 am, I rush into a gas station for a morning pee hoping to be incognito, and a cowboy - a real one - throws himself in front of me to gallantly open the door, removes his hat, bows his head and calls me Ma’am with a beautiful smile and a thick Texas accent.
These last few weeks reminded me that by stretching ourselves, we are learning to feel comfortable being uncomfortable. And that's an important life lesson for us and for our girls. And a pretty good silver lining.
And well, this week provided us with quite a collection of good stories to tell by the bonfire.
