The desert’s a trickster, the sun a perfect foil. In truth, desert needs nightfall to disappear something as small as a car like the fancy rigs to our east need buckets to pee in. And my friend's out there, alone.
“For now, all I know is I, too, am no longer heading toward somewhere I don’t want to go.” — this line really got me. It’s so powerful.
Your descriptions are so vivid, Holly. I so enjoy reading your writing not just for the stories, but also for all the times I say to myself - ‘ohh I see what she did there, damn that was good’.
Thank you, thank you! I had a lot of fun putting that paragraph together and went back and forth a few times on whether to even include the last or to just end there.
My beloved son. He died at age 46 in 2017. He was born on this day July 28th. I have written a lyric essay about him, am rather hopelessly shopping it and if not taken by November when he died, I will post it here, Holly.
Oh, Mary. This is a loss I cannot begin to fathom. I am so deeply sorry you've had to go through a grief no one should have to experience.
I know the power that dates can hold. They come around, and your body holds the memories of swirled time: Today, this many years ago, ... and this many years ago ... and this many years into the future ... I hold you in my heart on this important date and send you so much love.
May some literary space be wise enough to pick up the lyric essay that is no doubt a work of beauty and grace and depth. Wherever it appears, I will be honored to read it.
I lost a wedding band 4 years ago, never thought I would see it again, and my husband found it in his truck earlier this year, in a console's crevice. I had taken it off because my hands were hot and the ring was tight. What a surprise!! P.S. I've been to St George UT, and liked that reference. I could picture it!
Holly, your poetic descriptions never fail to amuse and amaze. I'm glad Dean found his Toaster. I'm glad Ruby found you, or the other way around. Your stories give me a good reason (not that I need one), when my pleasure tank is running low, to drop what I'm doing and fill up.
Love your detailed descriptions, especially the poetic ones like this: "dawn arrived like a giggle of amusement." Having been to Quartzite a couple of times, we can relate a bit more easily than someone who's never experienced that phenom. So, this was back in 2020? And now, you're in the PNW about to head out again, or not? Said before, wlll say again, thanks for taking us along with you and Ruby Bojangles.
Yes, 2020. Since I’ve been all the way back up north, then back to Arizona for another season, back up and through Canada’s BC and the Yukon and into Alaska and a whole bunch of other places in between.
Now, I’m in the PNW (between Seattle and Oregon, so sorry of slowly itinerant) in a bit of a holding pattern while I wait to find out how some medical challenges are going to play out. But, yes, I hope to head south again soon.
All the very best to you as you work through any obstacles that might keep you off the road. And, if you come far south, we're 1,167 miles below the southern border at Nogales, Arizona.
Gary, the Baja coast had been where I planned to spend the winter. We shall see if that ends up being possible. I’m guessing if I’m able to get back to the plan, I might be waving at you from across the Gulf of California ;)
We drove down Baja California coast almost to Cabo San Lucas and found a campground just north in Los Barriles. Lots of good fishing and very windy. A good spot from which to go around to the western side of Baja north of Cabo. We were driving big motorhome, towing a jeep and I didn’t want to go all the way back up narrow Baja road so we took a ferry from La Paz across Sea of Cortes to Mazatlan. Big commercial ferry, several decks and got a room overnight on top deck. Great ride!
WHOA. Holly. Wow. I can't imagine doing what you're doing. It's astonishing to me. I'm so tied to my home, willingly, but maybe a little fearfully, too. Transitions are hard for me. I think you're so brave, making this all happen for you, to support your dream. So you've been out on the road for how long? 4 years? Oh, and a town with no wi-fi? Yah. NO. xoxo
Haha. Thanks, Nan. Yes, it's been since summer 2019 that I've called Ruby home. With the exception that I did a winter house-sit this winter, and she did a lot of sitting outside, probably missing the road. ;) My decision to do the house-sit was, again, in the name of supporting the dream. And I WAS, indeed, able to do a lot of writing and dialing in Substack without the time required by frequent moving and finding places to shower and sleep and etc. (and, let's be honest, with fewer outdoor adventures beckoning--climb me, swim in me, put on your backpack and explore). It was about then, though, that I had some unexpected health challenges I'm still working through, which are keeping from my original plan to get back to roaming this spring. For the past few months, I've been in between my sisters' and a cousin's house in the PNW to be close to my health care providers. So, a little itinerant slow-mading (slow nomading) I guess. And poor Ruby's relegated to, for the most part, holding my things and waiting once more. Fingers crossed I can get on top of managing my new diagnosis (or the symptoms I should say) and get back on the road. Ha! Just to catch you up.
And right?! There was some cell service, just not Wi-Fi. But I did move along down the road after the gathering--in search of places to communicate with the people I was editing for. You'd be surprised, though, how far out in the middle of nowhere I've been able to get and still have enough connection to work. ;)
Thanks for catching me up! Do you feel like you’re indulging yourself when you house sit, the “more comforts of home” thing? Or is that not a thing for you? I love knowing that what you’re doing is feeding a need and desire you have. Here’s to your good health and managing the symptoms so you can get back to this thing you love to do!
Thank you for “listening.” 🥰 That’s a great question. I think sometimes I do feel that indulgence piece—especially if I’m feeling especially feral because of where I’ve been.
But I’m also pretty good at indulgence. It’s not that I’m particularly attached to vanlife, per se. It’s that I want to be able to live in a way that offers freedom and exploration, connection with people and cultures and places that are different than what I’ve known, the challenge of adventure. And I want to live in a way that feels sustainable, close to the earth and what we call nature and natural rhythms. Absolutely nothing about that says I shouldn’t luxuriate in whatever comforts and opportunities any situation I find myself in or choose affords me. ;) In fact, I believe I should. And I do.
I love the context you are holding this chapter of your life. Going after something that feeds you in so many beautiful ways and realizing the dream is a loving act of self-sustenance. And embracing the opportunities to luxuriate as they arise is a part of the love you're giving to you! Yay, Holly! Love to you, and travel safely to whatever destination comes next! xo
Aw, thanks, CK. I had fun when that one came to me. I kept probing my memory. What did it feel like when suddenly I realized how gorgeous everything was and that I was fine and this bone coldness was a momentary blip and soon I'd be holding a hot coffee (and, as I soon discovered, in a shop with a combo yoga studio with a shower)?! This was why I arrived after sundown, tbh.
“Once dawn turn arms into creosote branches and trolls into boulders, I’ll see we’re on the cusp of a true outpost.” So many great lines in this chapter, really feeling into your timid-to-growing satisfaction of no longer heading in an unwanted direction. “Taking the wheel of your own life” is such an obvious pun but I kept thinking about that as I read your gorgeous prose today.
You know, it may be an obvious pun, but I haven't even thought of it around the vanlife and all its whys. (Which maybe as a writer I shouldn't admit. Haha.) I love it, though, because it's true. Thank you, Kimberly, for reading and commenting. It means so much.
When you take your home with you everywhere it's always been a delight for me to see it when you've been away for a bit, seeing it in a parking lot after grocery shopping or from a distance when returning from a hike or kayak. I think this might be due so many years sailing when there is a real fear that your home could be gone when you return.
Also, coming back to this and imaging the reality of that as a possibility. 😱 You boat dwellers ar friggin badass! Could make for some fantastic posts, methinks!
I’m not sure if it’s the sailing. I’m always delighted to find Ruby in a parking lot after a shopping trip. There she is, waiting to receive me and my goods, so tall and inviting. :)
Holly- I appreciate this writing, not to mention the throwback phrase I haven't heard in a minute, AND all the art in this piece. Thank you for sharing. Hope you're well this week? Cheers, -Thalia
Dah! Thank you, Thalia. I appreciate you reading and commenting!!
This particular week I’m well and a little overwhelmed all at once—which, if I’m being honest is the norm lately. ;) But I do know where Ruby the van is. So there’s that.
“For now, all I know is I, too, am no longer heading toward somewhere I don’t want to go.” — this line really got me. It’s so powerful.
Your descriptions are so vivid, Holly. I so enjoy reading your writing not just for the stories, but also for all the times I say to myself - ‘ohh I see what she did there, damn that was good’.
Gah! Thank you, Michael. ☺️
All of this - yes!
What gorgeous writing!
Thank you!! 😊
Really great read, Holly. I adore that penultimate paragraph!!
Thank you, thank you! I had a lot of fun putting that paragraph together and went back and forth a few times on whether to even include the last or to just end there.
So appreciate you reading and commenting.🥰
Sometimes the extra edits are worth it! 💫
Truth!!
Honestly, I love the revision process. Just the reshaping over and over, the distillation is such a fascinating thing to take part in.
My beloved son. He died at age 46 in 2017. He was born on this day July 28th. I have written a lyric essay about him, am rather hopelessly shopping it and if not taken by November when he died, I will post it here, Holly.
Oh, Mary. This is a loss I cannot begin to fathom. I am so deeply sorry you've had to go through a grief no one should have to experience.
I know the power that dates can hold. They come around, and your body holds the memories of swirled time: Today, this many years ago, ... and this many years ago ... and this many years into the future ... I hold you in my heart on this important date and send you so much love.
May some literary space be wise enough to pick up the lyric essay that is no doubt a work of beauty and grace and depth. Wherever it appears, I will be honored to read it.
💔
I lost a wedding band 4 years ago, never thought I would see it again, and my husband found it in his truck earlier this year, in a console's crevice. I had taken it off because my hands were hot and the ring was tight. What a surprise!! P.S. I've been to St George UT, and liked that reference. I could picture it!
Oh, Mary, that’s crazy—so close and yet so far indeed! 💍 Glad it came back to you.
And glad you’ve seen those cliffs. They are exquisite, especially at sunrise.
Holly, your poetic descriptions never fail to amuse and amaze. I'm glad Dean found his Toaster. I'm glad Ruby found you, or the other way around. Your stories give me a good reason (not that I need one), when my pleasure tank is running low, to drop what I'm doing and fill up.
Awwww! What a wonderful thing to say. Thank you, Elizabeth.
Gorgeous writing, Holly. I loved the closing image of the stars tattooing the night sky.
Thank you, my friend.
Love your detailed descriptions, especially the poetic ones like this: "dawn arrived like a giggle of amusement." Having been to Quartzite a couple of times, we can relate a bit more easily than someone who's never experienced that phenom. So, this was back in 2020? And now, you're in the PNW about to head out again, or not? Said before, wlll say again, thanks for taking us along with you and Ruby Bojangles.
Yes, 2020. Since I’ve been all the way back up north, then back to Arizona for another season, back up and through Canada’s BC and the Yukon and into Alaska and a whole bunch of other places in between.
Now, I’m in the PNW (between Seattle and Oregon, so sorry of slowly itinerant) in a bit of a holding pattern while I wait to find out how some medical challenges are going to play out. But, yes, I hope to head south again soon.
Thank you, Gary, for riding along. :)
All the very best to you as you work through any obstacles that might keep you off the road. And, if you come far south, we're 1,167 miles below the southern border at Nogales, Arizona.
Gary, the Baja coast had been where I planned to spend the winter. We shall see if that ends up being possible. I’m guessing if I’m able to get back to the plan, I might be waving at you from across the Gulf of California ;)
We drove down Baja California coast almost to Cabo San Lucas and found a campground just north in Los Barriles. Lots of good fishing and very windy. A good spot from which to go around to the western side of Baja north of Cabo. We were driving big motorhome, towing a jeep and I didn’t want to go all the way back up narrow Baja road so we took a ferry from La Paz across Sea of Cortes to Mazatlan. Big commercial ferry, several decks and got a room overnight on top deck. Great ride!
Dean finding Toaster reminds me of my own fruitless search for my van one RTR: until I realized I was driving it. Lol.
Hahaha! LaVonne, I feel like there is more to this story that needs to be told. :)
So fun to have a fellow RTR attendee here. What a place, Quartzite, eh?
Q is crazy! I loved it for a few years, but RTR got too big for me.
I only went the one year. I would go again if I happened to be in the area at the right time.
That was a hell of a ride. Thank you.
Thank you for coming along!! It means a lot. 😊
WHOA. Holly. Wow. I can't imagine doing what you're doing. It's astonishing to me. I'm so tied to my home, willingly, but maybe a little fearfully, too. Transitions are hard for me. I think you're so brave, making this all happen for you, to support your dream. So you've been out on the road for how long? 4 years? Oh, and a town with no wi-fi? Yah. NO. xoxo
Haha. Thanks, Nan. Yes, it's been since summer 2019 that I've called Ruby home. With the exception that I did a winter house-sit this winter, and she did a lot of sitting outside, probably missing the road. ;) My decision to do the house-sit was, again, in the name of supporting the dream. And I WAS, indeed, able to do a lot of writing and dialing in Substack without the time required by frequent moving and finding places to shower and sleep and etc. (and, let's be honest, with fewer outdoor adventures beckoning--climb me, swim in me, put on your backpack and explore). It was about then, though, that I had some unexpected health challenges I'm still working through, which are keeping from my original plan to get back to roaming this spring. For the past few months, I've been in between my sisters' and a cousin's house in the PNW to be close to my health care providers. So, a little itinerant slow-mading (slow nomading) I guess. And poor Ruby's relegated to, for the most part, holding my things and waiting once more. Fingers crossed I can get on top of managing my new diagnosis (or the symptoms I should say) and get back on the road. Ha! Just to catch you up.
And right?! There was some cell service, just not Wi-Fi. But I did move along down the road after the gathering--in search of places to communicate with the people I was editing for. You'd be surprised, though, how far out in the middle of nowhere I've been able to get and still have enough connection to work. ;)
Thanks for catching me up! Do you feel like you’re indulging yourself when you house sit, the “more comforts of home” thing? Or is that not a thing for you? I love knowing that what you’re doing is feeding a need and desire you have. Here’s to your good health and managing the symptoms so you can get back to this thing you love to do!
Thank you for “listening.” 🥰 That’s a great question. I think sometimes I do feel that indulgence piece—especially if I’m feeling especially feral because of where I’ve been.
But I’m also pretty good at indulgence. It’s not that I’m particularly attached to vanlife, per se. It’s that I want to be able to live in a way that offers freedom and exploration, connection with people and cultures and places that are different than what I’ve known, the challenge of adventure. And I want to live in a way that feels sustainable, close to the earth and what we call nature and natural rhythms. Absolutely nothing about that says I shouldn’t luxuriate in whatever comforts and opportunities any situation I find myself in or choose affords me. ;) In fact, I believe I should. And I do.
I love the context you are holding this chapter of your life. Going after something that feeds you in so many beautiful ways and realizing the dream is a loving act of self-sustenance. And embracing the opportunities to luxuriate as they arise is a part of the love you're giving to you! Yay, Holly! Love to you, and travel safely to whatever destination comes next! xo
Beautiful. My favorite description— “Dawn arrives like a giggle of amusement.”
Aw, thanks, CK. I had fun when that one came to me. I kept probing my memory. What did it feel like when suddenly I realized how gorgeous everything was and that I was fine and this bone coldness was a momentary blip and soon I'd be holding a hot coffee (and, as I soon discovered, in a shop with a combo yoga studio with a shower)?! This was why I arrived after sundown, tbh.
“Once dawn turn arms into creosote branches and trolls into boulders, I’ll see we’re on the cusp of a true outpost.” So many great lines in this chapter, really feeling into your timid-to-growing satisfaction of no longer heading in an unwanted direction. “Taking the wheel of your own life” is such an obvious pun but I kept thinking about that as I read your gorgeous prose today.
You know, it may be an obvious pun, but I haven't even thought of it around the vanlife and all its whys. (Which maybe as a writer I shouldn't admit. Haha.) I love it, though, because it's true. Thank you, Kimberly, for reading and commenting. It means so much.
Love your writing. Thanks, Holly!
Thank you, thank you, Sue. 🥰
When you take your home with you everywhere it's always been a delight for me to see it when you've been away for a bit, seeing it in a parking lot after grocery shopping or from a distance when returning from a hike or kayak. I think this might be due so many years sailing when there is a real fear that your home could be gone when you return.
Great story!
Also, coming back to this and imaging the reality of that as a possibility. 😱 You boat dwellers ar friggin badass! Could make for some fantastic posts, methinks!
I’m not sure if it’s the sailing. I’m always delighted to find Ruby in a parking lot after a shopping trip. There she is, waiting to receive me and my goods, so tall and inviting. :)
Holly- I appreciate this writing, not to mention the throwback phrase I haven't heard in a minute, AND all the art in this piece. Thank you for sharing. Hope you're well this week? Cheers, -Thalia
Dah! Thank you, Thalia. I appreciate you reading and commenting!!
This particular week I’m well and a little overwhelmed all at once—which, if I’m being honest is the norm lately. ;) But I do know where Ruby the van is. So there’s that.
How about you?