Mornings in the mountains

The past week has been surreal. Each morning we wake up in a different place, which is not at all unusual anymore. But the environment and weather varies wildly in the deserts and the mountains. It’s disorienting and exhilarating.

It’s also not unusual for us to be plagued with doubt. This life will significantly reduce our savings. It has put us out of contact with loved ones for long periods of time. The breaks in our resumes will probably look bad to potential employers. The bus is constant source of angst and worry.

But then we wake up at a mountain lake—the only campers in the whole place and crystalline water beneath us. We drive up a series of dirt switchbacks and the clutch—it holds!—and we are rewarded with a windswept frozen lake and the smell of woodfire, stands of naked birches and cold weather fowl. We meet a fellow VW bus owner who recommends his favorite (free) camping spot and we spend the next day wandering the arroyos of red rock in our t-shirts.

We made the right decision.

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