Posts in Category: Our wanderings
They’re livin’ my high-school dream
Happy friends on their way to the Rainbow People gathering.
Look who we ran into in the Walmart parking lot in Butte, Montana. They’re on their way to the Rainbow Family gathering. If I were a few decades younger, I might have jumped on board.
You can read about my obsession with living in a school bus here and here.
Article in Phoenix New Times
Tom, Judy and Pippi.
Here is an article I wrote for the Phoenix New Times about Livin’ the Dream of full-timing in The Epic Van.
Enjoy.
Hello, neighbor
Fred and Boomer
The concept of “neighbor” morphs when you’re living on wheels.
We’re learning to strike fast, connect quickly and hang on digitally. There’s no room for shyness on the road.
Yellowstone: Bison and beavers and bears
Morning Glory Pool, a beautiful azure hot spring, has lost some of its vibrant color because of coins and other debris tossed in by visitors.
I remember visiting Yellowstone in second or third grade, a rare and wonderful trip with my grandparents in their trailer, tromping on the boardwalks past bubbling, smelly hot pools of who-knew-what, perching on the castle-like stone walls to feed chipmunks, watching Old Faithful spew out of a hole in the ground.
My sister and I loved the Morning Glory Pool, a beautiful azure hot spring in the shape of the delicate flower, and Nancy got a charm of it for her bracelet, silver with a clear-blue center.
But mostly I remember the bears. They were everywhere. Even in the campground. I remember one pawing at the toe of my tennis shoe, begging for a handout.
Visions of bison in the morning
When I woke up in the primitive campground in South Dakota’s Badlands National Park, I raised the window shade to see a bison lying about 100 yards away. He lazily munched on grass, and then, as the air warmed, lumbered to his feet and wandered off.
We have seen bison all across the plains – Texas, Kansas, South Dakota – but usually behind fences or, stuffed, in museums. Here, in the Badlands and in Custer State Park, they roam freely, grazing, scratching their backs against tree stumps, meandering across roadways, glancing, with little interest, at the cars.
Bison, whose ancestors came across the Bering land bridge from Siberia are, perhaps, the most American of all iconic wildlife.
Mount Rushmore, American to its granite core
Mount Rushmore the way it probably appeared when my mother visited in 1933.
Some of my mother’s first memories are of a trip with her parents to see Mount Rushmore under construction. It was 1933. She was just three years old.
Dirty tornadoes
Tornado damage at Roseland, Nebraska.
The tornado siren on my iPhone went off as I sat in The Epic Van, a slight sprinkle pattering on the roof. The storm app showed a red line around Nebraska’s Webster County, now under a tornado watch. It meant the angry storm lines on the radar, green bands with yellow centers and red spots, were capable of “firing” funnel clouds.
On the soul train to the City by the Bay
Erik Brok giving an impromptu concert for our motley crew at Palo Duro Canyon State Park in Texas.
Erik Brock, 20, stopped to hike and rest at Palo Duro Canyon State Park. He was on his way from Indiana to San Francisco, where a friend offered him a free place to live for four months. He plans to be a street musician.
Timeless love and sand dunes
Dunes and mountains at White Sands National Monument.
The gypsum dunes at White Sands National Monument have a timeless quality, endlessly shifting and moving, an inspiring white expanse that quiets the mind and makes other vistas and landscapes seem annoyingly busy.
When Tom and I drove up, I was hit by a wave of nostalgia for our son, Nate.
10 sexy, nutty facts about Pistachios
Pistachios.
