On March 20 the odometer rolled over to 221000 miles and some change. We did it! We survived for a year on the road.
When Beth and I first set out on our grand adventure across the states, we had only one goal in mind – survive for a year. Every and anything else we could figure out as we went – the who’s, whats and whys. But we both needed a goal, something to aim for, something to achieve. And now we had done it.
Every month as the 20th would come and go we’d talk to folks we had met and proudly tell them how long we had been at it. Six months. Eight months. Ten months! Almost a year. And then it hit, and we were there.
We had agreed that at a years time we would reassess: Do we want to keep traveling? Should we find a place to settle down? What do we want to do? And so we reassessed.
Were I a single man this lifestyle would become me. I doubt my feet would ever find root – I would wander this country till I knew every fold and bump from the tip of Maine down to Baja. For my own sake it’s a good thing I have a level-headed woman in my life to ground me. Beth is ready to let those roots dig down and take hold somewhere, blossoming into a new chapter of our life. The life of adventure is fun, but she craves stability and familiarity. She wants to know a place for more than a week’s time. I can’t blame her.
Many arguments and tears give way to a compromise: our new goal is a search for home. Separately, we make lists of what is important for us in a location and compare notes. Within them we find commonality in locations and criteria, the foundations of our new goal.
It’s been two months since we hit our one year mark and the 20th comes and goes without fanfare. The time spent on the road is no longer the goal. We are searching for a place to call home, however long that takes.