From “No-Man’s Lands” by Scott Huler
It’s been six months since I’ve resided in Barley the Van.
I spent four of those months overseas. I had no choice but to leave my four-wheel Buddy behind. Barley won’t fit in an airplane’s overhead bin compartment.
The other two months, I slept inside a thing called a bedroom. There were no wheels beneath me. I had indoor plumbing! So this is how the other 99.8% live.
For half a year, I’ve been living as large as a 6’3”, 239# Lying Scumbag President. It’s now time to readjust to Barley’s 66 square feet of living space. ( most of which is a Queen-sized bed. )
I’ll be reading by headlamp, drink my water from Nalgene bottles and cook on a Coleman stove. I’ll be showering outside with solar heated water. I’ll admit it. It’s sort of a feral existence. I can’t dwell too much on how strange my life must seem to “normal”folks. At times, it’s even strange to me.
I’ve now been in the Greater Death Valley Region for over a week. On my hikes, I’ve seen two jackrabbits, one Desert Bighorn and a docile Dude from Washington State. I knew he was harmless since his pick up truck sported a “Kill Your Television” bumper sticker. That’s a Peace-nik.
It’s been quiet. A little too quiet, as I’ve noticed nothing but couples in the campgrounds. The few single travelers own dogs; which in their World makes them a couple too. The stigma of the single man in the white van, is once again, becoming my reality.
I might be going through the motions of solo traveling. There’s only so many times in a day, I can say out loud, “Look at that! Isn’t that beautiful?” But there’s no Significant Other on the receiving end to appreciate the scene. Nor a companion to clink drinks with at Happy Hour.
I’ve been at this WW J thing a little short of six years. Maybe there’s an expiration date to this solo kosher Wandering?
With all that said, ( No One writes a more honest blog than me. No One. It’s 100% Fake News Free ), for the next three months I’ll continue on my way to remote places in the SW. I’ll have plenty of time to wander, wonder and ponder. I’ll keep looking for a sign to show me the way.
Who knows? One day, I might drive into a campground and there will be a pink Barleian Van owned by a WW (fill in the religion) Woman. It could be a match made in heaven.
Don’t get me wrong. I still love traveling. I just might be losing my Mojo for going solo. Only time will tell.
Cheers from chilly Death Valley National Park,
I’m posting this from Pahrump, NV. There’s more gun dealers and casinos than grocery stores. There’s no brewpubs but I can buy plenty of Bud Lite. It’s not on my list of possible places to settle down.
It’s now politically correct to say this, it’s a shit hole.