Transition to Van Life
You know, it’s funny how I lose the urge to write when I’m on a working stint. Almost like my creativity is snuffed and reignited when I’m back on the road traveling and climbing. I’m about a week away from another two month trip through Utah, the Pacific Northwest and Western Canada. I’ve spent the last two months living all over the front range of the Rocky Mountains. I bounced regularly between Estes Park, Fort Collins, Loveland, and Boulder, Colorado. Van life has become easy and regular, almost like leaving work and heading back to an apartment. I swiftly developed routines for each town and where I would park, where I would shower, where I liked to grocery shop and where I took my poops.
When I first moved into the van and started heading north out of Alabama I was a little overwhelmed. I didn’t have a 100% job in Colorado, I had spent a lot of my money on the van and was down to the oh shit level in my bank account. I drove out here on a whim and just decided I would find some construction work no matter who it was for. I remember feeling awkward in the van because it was new, and I didn’t know where I wanted to put things. Things kept falling off the counter because I would forget to put them away. I had a wonky headlight, I was weird about the places I slept because I used to be in the truck. I’m past all that now. Life is streamlined, and living in here has become easy and more than enjoyable. I’ve been telling my friends that I think I’m entering the time of my life and I couldn’t be happier. I found a job, in less than two weeks I landed a remodeling gig off of craigslist. I worked with a potentially paranoid schizophrenic with pretty ridiculous ideas of mining, the government, Bigfoot, his water and Donald Trump. It worked out though, I made the money I needed to make yet another trip and I’ve officially decided I’m prepared to start my own company as an independent contractor called Nomad Construction (Instagram @nomadconstruction). I found myself regularly knowing more than Jim and having to correct his work and realizing my work was better than his. I realized that if he could do it, then I sure as hell could. So he might have driven me absolutely insane, and caused me to become a mute for two months, but at least he inadvertently gave me the confidence to go for it.
Tonight, Gregory Alan Isakov wafted out of my speakers like a sweet perfume, Sadey was licking the excessive amounts of protein powder I spilled off the ground, and my fingers started rapping at the keys. The warm lights in the van reflected a beautiful golden glow off the counters and table and I couldn’t help but smile. It never seems to lose its flame, this life of traveling. Every time I’m on the brink of yet another trip my nostalgia hits all time highs and I start to long for the road and for the ever changing dynamics of life on the move. It’s rare to find yourself absolutely infatuated with life. But here I sit. Overwhelmed with the incredible people I’ve been fortunate to meet and keep in my life, stoked on the little life I’ve built in my van, and snuggling the shit out of the cutest pup in the world. Cheers folks, here’s to hoping you’re as happy as I am at this very moment.