Cross Roads

Today is supposed to be the day where we sit down with internet access and figure out where we are going next.  It's as simple as choosing a destination, but what are the greater implications of such decisions?

If we get somewhere and don't like it we will have wasted gas and therefore money, of which there is a finite amount.  If we get somewhere and love it, will we want to stay?  If we go somewhere, will it be further from where we want to go?

We are at a cross roads.  We've had a wonderful time on our trip thus far, but we are weary of much of the suburban scenery we see day to day.  It seems every exit off the interstate looks the same:  there is a Walmart, a Burger King, a Dunkin Donuts, three or four gas stations, a couple of strip malls...you know the scene. 

There have been places on our trip so far that we could really see ourselves staying at for a while.  Key West and Charleston come to mind.  Both towns have done a great job of keeping vibrant downtown scenes and keeping big boxes to a minimum and pushed to the outside.

A funny thing is that we don't mind living in the small space of the RV, it's more a sense of place that we are missing.  However, we aren't ready to just settle into an apartment or house again and be tied down with a lease, or furniture.  If only there was a place to boondock in a nice community's downtown for free!

So, what do we do?  Do we head further West into the vast greatness of this country and see if there is a place for us there?  Do we follow through on our initial quest to find a small sailboat to live on?  Do we pack it in, get on a plane and go to another country?

Somehow, I don't think I'll find the answer by the end of today...

A Week of Transition

It's been a week since I left Albany, NY, my home for the past ten years.  I'd wanted to leave for quite a while now, so there haven't really been any feelings of nostalgia for it.  Of course I'll always miss my friends who are still there, but with our new mobile lifestyle I have faith that I will see them all again.

Our first stop after leaving Albany was at my in-laws on Long Island.  We were there until Wednesday of this week arranging and re-arranging our new 160 +/- sq. ft. of living space.  That's 10% of the square footage we had when we lived in our house.  We've gotten rid of so much, but we still ended up with two large garbage bags of clothes for Goodwill and some other miscellaneous errata that was donated.  It's good to know that our no longer wanted or needed items can have a new life with a new owner.

On Wednesday we left for Trenton, NJ.  An unlikely stop, I know, but we decided to take the opportunity to visit with some family there.  We ended up staying for two days as we found out that some other cousins were coming into town on the second day.  We hemmed and hawed about the decisions to stay, feeling like we had to get on to our next destination, but it dawned on us that we didn't really have to.  We don't have to be anywhere specific until at least the 30th.  The kind of freedom we are now experiencing is both liberating and frightening.

On the second day in Trenton we came upon an unexpected surprise at the Trenton City Museum located in Cadwalader Park.  There was a good art exhibit featuring local artists in the renovated 1800s summer home that the museum occupies.  The park itself was designed by the same fellow who designed Central Park in NYC, and Washington Park in good old Albany, so it was a nice place to spend an afternoon walking the dog and soaking up some sunshine.

We've noticed we are about two weeks behind the climate in Albany.  Whereas they got flurries last night and most of the leaves are gone, we have had temperatures in the 60s and there is still a lot of green on the trees.  If we plan this right, this nice weather will follow us all the way down the coast.

Today we left Trenton and headed for our first real destination:  Annapolis, MD, the sailing capital of America.  You see, even though we decided to "cruise" in an RV, we are still sailors at heart.  I'd much rather be anchored in a nice cove than boondocking in a Sam's Club parking lot, but such is life.  The opportunity to use an RV came along and we jumped on it, we'll get to the boat soon enough.

This week has seen a lot of change.  Change in the amount of space we live in.  Change in our schedules.  Change in the climate (at least our climate, I won't get into global warming here).  Changes in our spending habits.

We've finally started on our journey.  It's scary, it's overwhelming, it's fun and it's exciting.  This new life will take some getting used to, but we are living our life by our design and for ourselves.  There's no going back!

Down to the Water

There's something about water.  Something that binds us together as humans, that seems to bring out the best in people.  There is an optimism, a free spirited, good time feeling around water.  Whether on a river, lake, stream, or ocean; water seems to have a good vibe.

It's the power boater who waves as they pass you by when you are becalmed in your dinghy.  It's the guy playing with his dog next to the boat launch who wades out to give you a push when you are starting to drift towards the rocks.  It's the members of a sailing club who have your trailer already in the water when you get back to the launch because you had to be towed in by the committee boat.  These are the same people who would cut you off and give you the finger on the interstate, but around water there is something different.

Water gives us recreation.  It gives us hope.  There is a reason that the Man and the Boy in Cormac McCarthy's 'The Road' are always heading towards the coast, away from the desolation of a post apocalyptic world.

Perhaps it is that we are mostly water?

There's a great story from Jimmy Buffet's autobiography, where he talks about his grandmother telling him to go down and wade into the salt water if he got a cut or had skinned his knee, and (paraphrasing here) "Later on down the road of life, I made the discovery that salt water was also good for the mental abrasions one inevitably acquires on land."

I owe a lot to water.  When I was five years old my parents moved from Long Island to the mountains of central NY to start a bottled water company.  In some ways water literally gave me life.

Yet water is not always kind, just ask the residents of the lower 9th ward.

But by and large, people want water in their lives. It gives us hope.

So here's to you water, thanks for everything.  I'm looking forward to a lot more good times.