I feel as if these days make us pause. They challenge us to reflect on our current circumstances and take stock for the remaining year, season or time ahead.
I'm currently sitting in a coffee shop in St. John's - a place I would have gladly left days ago, however our Van had other ideas. We've been living in our van for the past three months. Well three months and two days as of today. We've had our tire explode, our power steering rust away and now we are dealing with some melted wires, a haywire battery and the replacement of our alternator. We've had issues with the window, some leaks - you would be best to define us as a jalopy rather than any truly functioning vehicle found on roads today.
So what?
It's the first day of September. Every year prior to now I've been preparing for the end of summer and the beginning of school - for me or my students. It's a distinct time in my experience that grounds me to the present moment; the hope of a new year of challenges, experiences and learning. It's also a time where I take stock, the season changes, and I put forth new hopes, goals, joys and considerations for the road ahead.
The road ahead is literally and figuratively my only consideration at this point - and us getting on it, and home. The idea feels strange and a little disappointing when our goal was to be on the road for at least two more months, travelling the roads of Labrador and Northern Quebec. When we discovered the problem four days ago, it wasn't even clear if we would be able to drive the car home. We considered towing it home, selling it - anything short of dropping the thousands of dollars into fixing it. Every part of me who is an optimistic, hardy, nomadic traveller disintegrated in that moment, realizing that no level of optimism or experience could change the fact that our home will not move without the work needing done was finished.
That was four days ago. We've been living in a parking lot close to the dealership for those four days since. It's been sunny, windy, rainy and cold; and without a functioning battery (or a constant source of sunshine) we've been low on power (which is fun at night when you attempt to accomplish anything).
So what?
At the beginning of 2017 we decided that instead of buying a house we would take our money and sink it into a van. We would travel Canada. We would live on the road; creating, making art, hiking, running, exploring and learning as much as we can about what Canada has to offer. After we finally found a van we could afford, we began our modest reno efforts. Having no experience with anything like this - there was definitely a learning curve. We had to become mechanics, electricians, solar experts, carpenters, mathematicians, among other things. We had to figure out routes, locations, dog-friendly spaces; we dreamed and put places on maps where we could visit and explore; reaching out to friends and family along the path of our great adventures.
Then we got on the road. Life is very different when you move from dream to reality, in that all your expectations, wishes, dreams and hopes become tethered to the ground with their very own strings and attachments. It takes a special kind of energy to persevere through some of the trickier and rough spots - an energy I harvested for myself through many years of nomadic dedication. Unfortunately (or fortunately) there were many things I had never encountered or expected and at many times I felt as if I was somewhere new and strange - a place of humble experience I haven't endured in many years.
So what?
We are here now. Over a barrel, so to speak. It's going to cost us a pretty penny to even leave, and the only place we have to go is home. Is this the plan? Not in the slightest. However none of this went according to plan.
When we set out, it became clear that our rules of engagement were not clearly defined. It was also clear that the road had its own rules and wishes, and we did our best to work symbiotically so. Along our way we realized just how expensive it would be to explore all the places we wanted to go. Provincial parks are a fortune, and Quebec parks won't even tolerate dogs. We began WWOOFing to supplement some of our adventures. We realized that we wouldn't be able to travel as far, as we negotiated the distance we traveled per-day, balancing cost to exploration ratio. We spent considerable time with family and friends along the way, and my brother even flew out to Moncton to travel with us for 10 days or so. Many of our up-front plans were nixed as we got into our own routines of living on the road.
It feels like this whole year has been consumed by the prospect of this journey, the preparation for this journey, and the completion of it. That being said, it feels completely surreal that we are at this point now. This point of ending, hiatus, pause - whatever you want to call it.
So what?
Our journey has changed more times this year than I could have expected. While we have been travelling (and living exclusively in a 50 sq. ft. van) for three months it feels as if we just started, and the carpet is being ripped out from under us. Has it been hard? Yes. Not having access to showers, bathrooms, drinking water or food turns every day into a survival-based schedule, rather than a dreamy one. It's truly incredible how for-granted we must take access to the aforementioned - it's definitely heightened my appreciation and gratitude - that is to be sure.
That being said, so much has happened on this (short) journey that I'm not mad in the slightest. I'm eternally grateful for everything that the road continues to teach me - including the (expensive/tedious) bumps along the way. The people I have been able to meet, travel and experience life with have given me so many things. I've had an important chance to shift my perspective and experience - something I have been desperately craving and searching for a long time. I've been given many gifts and medicines that I can't chalk this disappointment as a total failure - I prefer the idea of a pause, as it allows us to collect ourselves, moving forward.
So what?
I'm bummed, but it is what it is. The road, the universe - they all have their plans and visions about what comes next for us too. This isn't the first time we have had to make a split-decision that will affect the entire path ahead. Again, it is what it is.
I've had the fortunate privilege of being able to travel (almost non-stop) over the last decade. Maybe there is another reason the road is calling me home. I guess I'll just have to wait until I get there (if we get there! Ha!) to figure it out.
For the time being, I'm going to use this (excruciating and lucky) idle time to reflect, plan, dream and look towards the road ahead.
Stay tuned.