Right Now, This Is Life

A glimpse into what my life looks like on the road (taken from a journal entry I wrote in New Mexico)…

“I’m cozied up in the bed of my truck, reveling in the way the tailgate perfectly frames the rugged landscape. I watch as the sun slowly fades into darkness and the New Mexico Mountains melt into the sky. As the sun sinks, the sky is washed with deep, contrasting red, purple and orange hues. Colors so rich I question whether I knew they could exist. It’s the kind of beauty you long to capture in a painting, yet you know that even the most skilled artist could never render its richness. Photographs do it no justice. The sun setting into the mountains is a welcomed reprieve after two nights of rain. The first night the rain was just a constant drizzle, but last night the rain came down with force for hours. The wind whipped my tarp relentlessly until it caved. I could feel my truck swaying while I momentarily entertained the question, “Am I in a flood zone?” Rain in the desert is a ruthless force.

I originally drove north, through the mountains and the Lincoln National Forest, in hopes of finding a place to camp. It turned out that all the campsites were closed, but it was to my good fortune. I ended up getting rain instead of snow, as I ended up at the base of the mountains instead of at the top. Since the other campsites were closed, I just decided to drive to the one I had a reservation for the following night. Though the route I took was out of the way and I struck out on campsites, I stayed just in front of the rain and it was a breathtaking drive through the mountains. I honestly didn’t even know New Mexico was comprised of the landscapes I saw. I would really like to go back when it’s warmer so I can camp and hike in the beautiful places I passed through. It was when I stopped driving that the rain caught up with me and then stuck with me for days. When the fog finally lifted the morning of my third day there, in the distance, I could see the snow crested peak near Cloudcroft 6,000 ft above me. It was then that I realized I had driven through that area while looking for a campsite. In fact, because it was dark when I arrived at my site and there was so much fog/cloud cover the following day, I never noticed how close the mountains that surrounded my campsite were until the third day!

Looking upon the sad remnants of my tarp canopy.

When it’s too cold or rainy to explore, I do laundry, reorganize, write postcards, trip plan, brush up on personal hygiene, etc. It’s kind of nice to have a forced reprieve and not feel like I should be exploring instead, but I have found that I enjoy warmer weather far more than cold weather. It makes cooking, getting dressed, having wet hair and sleeping in nature much easier. When it’s rainy and cold, less people are out and moving about the campsite. So, its more likely I feel a tinge of isolation or loneliness. However, cold or hot, I’m still grateful for the opportunity and experiences I am having.

Just as the sunset was timely, so was good company. A couple of canyoneering ladies I met and had dinner with in Big Bend showed up at the campground I was staying in. I happened to see them pull in and they couldn’t find a site, so they shared mine. We ended up caravanning to White Sands National Monument and hiking several miles together. I kept going when they stopped for a lunch break and made another friend on the second half of the 5-mile loop. He was walking his dog, so naturally I stopped to pet the dog. We started chatting and ended up grabbing food that evening. It seems like with every place I visit, I realize how much more I have to see and learn. But, with every person I meet, I experience how small this big world is.”

May 29, 2018 1

“800 Feet Underground”

I snaked my way down the switchback trail of the “Natural Entrance,” a gaping hole in the earth’s surface whose mouth leads into a belly of dark wonder. During the summer months, hundreds of thousands of free-tailed bats coat the walls of the Natural Entrance and in the evenings they can be observed exiting the cave en masse. I tried to visualize the phenomenon as I continued my descent. The earth slowly shut it’s mouth around me and eventually swallowed me whole. It was as if I had walked through a dimensional portal and landed in another world. Mesmerized, I sat down in an area of the cave called the “Big Room” and wrote of my experience;

It’s as if earth is sluggishly melting on to itself from above, taking on bizarre and unnatural shapes. It trickles so slowly that our limited comprehension of time renders it stagnant. In the epic formation timeline of 265 million years, I view an infinitesimal segment of this world’s continual shape-shifting. The melting layers and organic chemical concoctions birth ribbons of rock that dangle like drapes and entangled squid-like tentacles of stone. Like the grisly mouth of a monster, giant rock fangs cascade from the ceiling and protrude from the floor. Actively growing formations are coated in slick liquified stone that sparkles alluringly as it folds and drips onto itself. They grow at a torpid pace, patiently waiting for sustenance to seep through the hovering layers of earth and complete an 800ft. descent. The subterrestrial world of Carlsbad Caverns is home to surreal formations resembling giant mounds of kinetic sand with serene emerald pools entrenching their base. The depth of the pool is visible even when the force of a droplet, fallen from hundreds of feet above, ripples the pool’s placid surface. The entire landscape is otherworldly and impossible to adequately describe.

In a span of 4 hours, I only explored a 3-mile loop of the caverns. There are 70+ miles of underground mystery that have been officially discovered. In addition to entering/exiting through the Natural Entrance and a self-guided tour of the Big Room, I participated in a guided group tour of “Kings Palace” (due to past vandalism, there are limits on what “rooms” are open to self-guided exploration). This tour led us through several different rooms that comprise the cave system that can only be seen with a guide. Every room was filled with a variety formations that were uniquely enchanting. One major highlight of the guided tour was experiencing an intentional “black out.” While in the depths of the cave system, all light sources were eliminated and there was absolutely no light source of any kind. The glow of every flashlight, flame, watch and phone was extinguished. Instantaneously I was engulfed by thick, cold blackness. The darkness swallowed me whole and it was nothing that I’ve ever experienced above ground. Within minutes the black emptiness started to play tricks on my mind and the way my brain communicates with my eyes. It wanted to see something, anything, so badly that it began fabricating the outlines of the last logical images that had been burned onto my retinas. Indeed, momentarily terrifying. Yet important, as it cultivates a healthy respect for this kind of wilderness. For me, experiencing that darkness further illuminated how uniquely incredible the caverns are. It is a splendid subterrestrial land of seemingly mythical formations, whose existence is hard to believe in without seeing. I can understand how there were doubters that called the caverns a hoax when they were originally discovered and the findings were reported for the first time. It’s simply too difficult to describe this underground wonderland accurately without sounding like you’ve also been exploring desert drugs.

There are still new explorations and discoveries underway in Carlsbad Caverns. Because it is protected as a National Park, these explorations are regulated. This kind of protection allows us to preserve and experience the sheer beauty of what our predecessors discovered, but also continue to uncover unparalleled hidden wonder. Continued exploration in Carlsbad Caverns is delicately opening the doors to underground rooms that have been locked for millions of years. It’s surely a sight to see and the science behind the formations is just as spectacular. Limestone dissolved by sulfuric acid birthed the very cavern I sat in! I experienced just one of more than 300 caverns that exist below the surface of the Chihuahuan Dessert and Guadalupe Mountains. It’s difficult to imagine those landscapes are a fossil reef that once lay beneath an inland sea hundreds of millions of years ago. Mind-blowing natural wonders like these are undisputedly worth our awe, reverence, support and protection.

The massive feet and broomstick of a witch!

An up-close image of tiny (< 1 inch) “Soda Straws” (baby Stalactites). Our guide said these are roughly 85 years old! Imagine how long it took the massive formations to grow!

The “Natural Entrance” is a 1.25 mile descent/climb. The loss/gain is 750ft (equal to a 75 story building)!

Aside:

Until this cross-country journey started to unfold, I hadn’t heard of many of the National Monuments or Parks that are now “Bucket List” recommendations. As I walk through these places of breathtaking wonder, I often find myself asking, “How had I not heard of this place?!! So many people are missing out. Access to this place and this information should be more available to ALL people for so many reasons!”…Which is another post for another day.

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March 22, 2018 1

“Strangers”

Aside from the overnight stints in smattered southeast locations, Texas was my first big destination. I suppose that’s appropriate since they say everything is bigger in Texas. There were essentially 5 main stops; Austin, Marfa, Big Bend National Park, Terlingua-Ghost Town and Guadalupe Mountains National Park. From there, I would make my way into New Mexico to visit Carlsbad Caverns and White Sands National Monument. Post New Mexico, I ventured into Arizona to explore Chiricahua National Monument and Saguaro National Park before spending time with a friend in Phoenix. My departure from Phoenix would lead me to my first California destination, Joshua Tree National Park. Aside from the 4 days I spent with my friend in Austin and 5 days in Phoenix, I trekked through Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and into California on my own. I’ve often noticed that people have been most fixated on, impressed by, concerned with, or inquisitive about the fact that I’ve had the gumption to embark on this trip alone. For this reason, I wanted to share some of my experiences of solo adventuring thus far.

I’m not actually alone at all.

Solo traveling has forced me out of my comfort zone and into conversation with countless interesting people. Strangers have become friends in every place I’ve gone. I’ve been reminded that all friends were once strangers and all places without people are quite empty. The people I’ve met and the conversations I’ve had bring each of the places I’ve visited to life. Talking to new people has provided more than just company and an interruption to isolation. As a result of conversation with fellow wanderers and with city locals, I’ve been exposed to new foods, drinks, restaurants, events, jobs, cultures and lifestyles. Even if it turns out that we don’t have the same taste buds, shared interests or make the same life choices, I learn something from the people I meet. Even in the National Parks, I feel like I’ve gained a deeper understanding and respect for the park’s beauty, wilderness and mystique because I’ve learned how it can impact others. Learning about how different people interact with the natural wonders that define these parks, how the beauty impacts them personally (or how it doesn’t) and how it helps them gain perspective, can positively influence how we perceive the world around us. Even though many of the people I’ve met are different from me in many ways, I’m finding more common ground than I could have imagined. With each conversation and each story shared I am better able to recognize the value that people from all cultures add to my life; not only because they open doors to new experiences, but they also unlock empathy and help me understand experiences that are outside of my norms. Talking to people of all types and exchanging our stories, in a lot of ways, unveils my subconscious prejudices and rewrites my perceptions for the better. They shed light on the experiences that I have never had, but help me understand what role I play even when I can’t relate first-hand. On this journey, the people I’ve met remind me to believe that there are more good people in this world than I often allow myself to imagine and reinforce that I always have something new to learn. There are amazing people all around us with captivating stories and beautiful minds living their day-to-day lives. We are missing out on valuable growth if we never step out of our comfort zone to engage with them. (That doesn’t have to mean selling your house and traveling cross-country in a truck. As you read, you’ll see that I’ve found wonder in the mundane places too.)

Everyone has a unique adventure story waiting to be shared. I’ve started to realize that I not only look forward to the places I’ll visit, but also the people I’ll meet in those places. Obviously, don’t pick the creepiest person in your general vicinity to randomly strike up a conversation with! Yes, stay in tune with your “Spidey Senses” and keep your stun gun charged in case things get weird. Definitely look for the “red flags.” Use common sense, be observant and, honestly, we should exercise wisdom regarding what information we divulge to anyone. But in the same way, be aware that there are amazing people out there that don’t just exist in Youtube videos, extravagant places, or in what we think are our “safe places”. I hope to remind you, as I am being reminded, that there are other good people out there that can contribute so much to the lives we get to live. If only we allow ourselves the opportunity to be engaged with the world around us. I won’t be naïve. I won’t be uninformed. I won’t be unaware. But, I also won’t passively allow prejudices and fear to undermine the value, or goodness, of the humans on this planet and the importance of being open enough to make connections with people. I’m aware that defining humanity is infinitely more complex than just good or bad. But, instead of being scared of its complexities, this kind of exposure is teaching me how to better embrace them.

In less than two months I’ve connected with people from all over the world. I’ve met people from France, Mexico, Canada, and countless people from different places that comprise the US (even Puerto Rico)! I’ve met people of all age groups, from dinner with a couple and their daughter of 16 months who live in a minibus, to a man celebrating his 80th birthday by observing the natural beauty of the Joshua Tree. I had dinner with a group of women that were probably my age + 20, but way more hardcore than me and they had all met years ago canyoneering in Utah. They spent a night rafting on the Rio Grande. One of them even gave me her contact information in case I need anything while I’m in Utah! I met a women hiking through Carlsbad Caverns (also older than me) who’s been taking solo trips in her van across the country and riding mountain bikes for years. She is part of a Facebook group for women travelers like us! It was really helpful to hear about how she stays connected and finds community. We now follow each other’s adventures on Instagram. I point out their age only in hope to inspire others, as it inspired me, to just keep moving! So many people use age as an excuse to build their own physical barriers, but they are proof that age is only what you allow it to be! I have LOVED meeting other strong, adventurous women who stay active and do what makes them feel alive. It’s been encouraging to say the least. I’ve met some pretty awesome guys too, which has been equivocally encouraging in other ways. I met a guy who lives full time out of a van because he works for a mountain bike company and travels to represent the company at events all over the country. He and his friends were in Big Bend running 40 miles over two days in an expedition race that included a 5 hour float on the Rio Grande. We ended up hanging out multiple times, shared several meals and have continued to keep in contact. I met a couple from Texas at a Rio Grande overlook who were cruising through Big Bend on their motorcycle for fun. They struck up a conversation, cracked open an extra beer and had it in my hand before I could decline! As we all know, sharing is caring. The day I arrived in Austin, friends of a friend showed top-shelf hospitality that made me feel comfortable in a room full of people I didn’t know. They let me crash their party, laugh with them, share stories, eat their food and drink their beer during the Super Bowl. Their generosity made me feel at home, far from home. I met an awesome family while hiking in the Chisos Mountains. They were on their 3rd annual family trip (as adults). Some were ultra runners, some were swimmers, but all of them were incredibly kind, had a great sense of humor and they even bought me a beer after the hike. I actually spent most of the hike talking to the matriarch of the family, who’s genuine warmth was immediately refreshing and disarming. We talked about a lot of things, but the conversation centered mostly on what work or school would look like in my future. I appreciated her genuine interest in a stranger’s life, her willingness listen and to share. Just hearing more about what she and her children do revealed potential opportunities and directions I didn’t know existed. It was probably one of the few times that conversation topic didn’t stress me out! We’ve stayed connected through social media so we can continue to share our adventures and reach out if our paths cross again. There was even a super cool woman in New Mexico that helped me pass the time at the Laundromat with good conversation, as we exchanged travel stories. It may seem simple, but it was what I needed on a cold and rainy day. In the Ghost Town of Terlingua, I sat next to an older man at Starlight Theatre’s bar. His weathered skin seemed to affirm his past as he gruffly shared his stories of life as a raft guide for 30+ years and told us about the book he had just finished reading. The book detailed the record-setting account of a man who boated the Colorado River in a wooden dory during the epic flooding of 1983. As he unpacked the story for us, it was evident that the knowledge he had acquired from his personal experiences rafting the same river, added a depth to the story that I couldn’t find in the book alone. At the same bar, I also befriended a woman (who had to have been around my age) with her own adventure story. She had come in alone, but sat next to us and ended up contributing to the conversation. She had lived in, what seemed like, any big city you could think of, but decided a few months ago to move to Ghost Town (which is tiny and in the middle of nowhere). As she shared stories of her adventures in different cities, I admired her incredible and bold adaptability. We connected via social media and she sent me some of her favorite places to check out in Wyoming, as she had lived there too! All of these people and many more, were kind enough to share their personal experiences and inadvertently helped me find some of the coolest places I’ve never heard of! Many of the incredible places I’ve visited thus far were not on my original itinerary and were suggestions from people I’ve met along the way! I haven’t come across a search engine, website or app that can hold a flame to the first hand accounts I’ve heard, or the information I’ve gotten from the people I’ve met. There are far too many people that have uniquely contributed to my journey to introduce in this post. They have all become unforgettable parts of my story, so it’s inevitable that you will meet them as I continue tell it.

I do miss my family, friends and four-legged bestie more than I could describe. There’s something powerful about the comfort of just being in the presence of those who really know you and the history you have with them cultivates love with deep roots. There are people in my life that cannot be replaced, nor can I imagine my life without their influence and presence. But, this post isn’t about exchanging one for another. It’s about how the love and encouragement of the people who really know me have helped me find the courage it takes to step out of my comfort zone, the strength it takes to connect with new people and the importance of being open to learn from all people. It’s a letter to my future self, reminding me that life is full of adventure everywhere, even in the mundane places. It’s a stepping-stone toward figuring out how to better embrace my humanity, the humanity of others and experiencing growth through it all rather than being discouraged by its complexity. It’s an abridged reflection of my travels thus far and a reminder to listen attentively when others share their own adventure stories.