New Normal

Month After: New Normal

4/5/2023

Colorado

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If there was any question before, we are officially back to the real world. Jake & I are both in the full swing of full time jobs again. We have moved into an apartment and Leinie is re-acclimating to a non-mobile home.

Leinie is a trooper. The plants, not so much…

Transitioning from vanlife back to apartment life has been a learning curve. Purging stuff was tough going into vanlife, we figured re-acquiring stuff would be a similar struggle. Now as I type this, sitting on a curb alert craigslist couch, I look at our near empty apartment that has only the totes we’ve lived out of for the past year. We knew we would need to re-acquire furniture but we overlooked smaller items like a shower curtain, clothes hangers, and eating utensils that don’t combine the fork, spoon and knife into a single unit. It seems I am running to the store every other day because life is just easier when you have dishwashing pods for the dishwasher ya know.

Full disclosure, this work thing isn’t my favorite. While I do enjoy a steady income channel, this “daily grind” thing is for the birds. I’m already back to counting down to retirement. Don’t get me wrong, this is definitely not a dig at my new place of employment. My new hospital has been fantastic and just up my orthopod alley, but I will choose sleeping in and yoga with my dog at 10am over work every single time if given the choice.

Jake for his part segwayed from roof racks and accessories into professional van conversions and maintenance. His first week on the job and the words “what if we went back to vanlife” came out of his mouth. Yes, pick your jaw up off the floor. I’m pretty sure I spit out the beer I was drinking. He claims that with a taller, longer vehicle we could make it work long term.

Regardless, he has a renewed interest in vanlife and has a long list of projects for the Yellow Submarine. My fingers are crossed for a heater cuz tailgating season got a bit on the chilly side.

Leinie does not enjoy the decreased amount of attention directly resulting from full time jobs for Jake and myself. However, he is and always has been a trooper. He has a new couch which he loves as much, if not more than the SoCal couch. He also has new dog park friends that he sees almost every day, this time around they are all his size. But he has been dealt a curve ball with the apartment. The tree just past our patio attracts the largest, fattest, honeybadger-trapped-in-squirrel-bodies I have ever seen (they don’t give an ish about nothing, including Leinie). He was very caught off guard by their lack of interest in him. The fact that they are half his size could also be throwing him off.

Bold squirrels

So life has formed into a new normal. Not quite the free-flowing life as in the Yellow Submarine was, but a good normal. We kept our eyes on the new priorities we found in the past year. We sip coffee together in the mornings. We finish work and are home at super reasonable, well-before-dark time of the day so we can enjoy some quality time disc golfing, sipping beers at the neighborhood brewery, or socializing at the dog park. We have plenty of time and green space to enjoy the beautiful outdoors. Have I mentioned the mountain views?

The Yellow Submarine you ask? Still here, a bit more empty than it has been, but ready for the next adventure. I have a list for peak bagging at hand. The tramily has discussed ideas for backcountry fun. There are even some plans for more exploration on the beer front. So stay tuned…

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Parked

Month Twelve: Parked

3/5/2023

Colorado

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One year, 366 days ago we sold almost all of our stuff, moved out of our apartment, quit our jobs and took a leap. We moved into a 53 sq. ft. van dubbed the Yellow Submarine and drove with only a rough idea of the places we’d like to see. 

Baby Vanlifers!

Our very first night in the van was rough. Leinie was accidentally fed old trail kibble instead of his normal food and was up all night …we’ll go with evacuating, both ends, violently. Poor guy. Jake and I got zero sleep and Jake was left with a giant load of laundry the next morning while I was finishing up my last week at work. It can’t get worse, right?

It didn’t. It got better. We developed routines, took naps, explored new places, met fantastic people we never would’ve met before we were vehicle-dwellers. Desert Scott and Cosmo, Apocalypse Jane Doe, Utah Rick and Hazel, Barista Brandon, Camp Host Ricky, and Steamboat Jeff to name just a few. We explored national parks (Zion was my fave). Tasted many, many coffee roasters (best ones were Philz - LA, Cafe D’arte - Seattle, Camp 4 Coffee - Crested Butte). Drank more pints of beer than I could possibly count. Hit dirt on foot and pedal (Fremont Saddle, Hobbit Trail, Dry Hill, Phil’s Trailhead, all of St. George, and don’t forget the month we spent soggy on the SHT).

Oh, the places you’ll see!

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. There were fights, tough conversations, van repairs, and a dwindling savings. But that’s life. You learn and grow from them and realize what is a priority and what isn’t. You compromise, apologize, and move forward. 

We learned what we want in a lifestyle and community and where work fits into that instead of the other way around. Life is too short and while work pays the bills, the life outside of work is what matters most. We wanted to work to live, not live to work. That is what this past year has shown us most.

So as our sabbatical year comes to a close, we are preparing the Yellow Submarine to be parked. Not for good, we love having an adventure vehicle (let’s not forget the Death Valley debacle of 2022). Jake wants a couch to sprawl on and I’m craving a kitchen again (I know, I almost choked typing that, but I’ve grown as a cook, who would’ve thought? Not my twenty-one year old self!) And as much as we learned how minimal we can be, 53 sq ft is a bit less than ideal for long-term living. We did look at a 900 sq ft apartment and had no idea how we would utilize that much space. Hah!

A whopping 53 sq ft

Where are we parking ourselves you ask? One of our goals this past year was to find a place we loved, with the lifestyle we crave and carve out a life and career there. We fell in love with Sedona and it’s glorious hiking. Utah stole our hearts with its beautiful parks. Then we crushed hard, so hard on Bend with the trails and craft brews. The Oregon Coast was magical. Bellingham swept us off our feet with the mountain and ocean views. So out of all the suitors, who won?

Colorado. We have always loved the frontrange and we’ve played hard-to-get with this state for years. We came at the start of the month to visit with Adam and buckle down on choosing our place and the pieces all fell into place here. It was familiar, comfortable, and can you beat those mountain views(?). DIA is an affordable, convenient airport for our itchy traveling feet. So we let Colorado finally catch us.

Even the breweries here knew we’d stay

We still are deeply enamored with our other city crushes, and they will always be available. To visit or even to possibly move to later. Is Colorado forever? Probably not, but it feels right, right now and that’s what matters. So we are parking ourselves, right here in Colorado.

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Stuck

Month Eleven: Stuck

2/5/2023

Minnesota - Nebraska - Colorado

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I sat down to write this update and realized I had nothing really to share. Or at least it felt that way.

We were stuck in Minnesota longer than anticipated due to Jake sustaining an unknown crazy injury to his ankle/foot. So we waited it out in Minnesota, slowly repacking everything into not only the Yellow Submarine but my little mazda. After about a week, he was able to move around in relative comfort (or rather not in overt discomfort) and off we took in our modern day wagon train. 

Our goal: Omaha to visit with my brother, Dan. We made a pitstop in Des Moines for one last visit to Paws & Pints and so Leinie could stretch his legs and release some pent up energy.

Someone had fun playing in the snow

Leaving Des Moines we hit snow, a lot of snow. For anyone not familiar with the midwest/great plains in winter, oh man, it is a feat. The wind combines with snow and the semis all kick up crazy amounts of splash. Visibility at one point was maybe 20 yards. We pulled over at one point to see what our options were, we cleared off the headlights and elected to keep moving.

We rolled up to Dan’s around 10pm and found an icy mound of snow piled at the end of his driveway. He was still out of town on a work trip so Jake and I found shovels and the snowblower and got to work at the horrible task of clearing it. I was feeling very sure of my decision to never live in winter hell ever again.

After Dan arrived the next day, we were able to enjoy a single day of not horrible, terrible weather. And then it got cold. Very, very cold. Negative double digits. So we were stuck, again. The three of us stayed very much inside and Leinie learned very quickly to pee and poop very, very quickly. Jake attempted to leave early in order to spend quality bro time with Adam but ended up turning around after 20 minutes on the highway due to crazy high winds. At the second window of not horrible weather (it was still negative double digits), Jake attempted escape number two and made it to Fort Collins. 

I was supposed to follow a day later after some more time with the bro. However, my car refused to start. The severe cold drained the battery. So I spent all morning jumping it with Dan’s car and felt pretty confident after a test run to the gas station. The next day, dead. Again. So I spent another morning jumping my poor car. Any guesses on the third morning? Yep, deader than a doornail. I was prepared and woke up early to jump it with Dan’s car and let it charge while I packed. 

And off Leinie and I were, with a hope and a prayer that it would restart when I stopped en route to Fort Collins. When Leinie and I stopped at a rest stop for a bathroom break, I kept the car running. We had to fill up on gas in western Nebraska and I have never filled up so fast in my life. I held my breath and…it started. Collective sigh of relief

I know, I’m a badass.

I made it to Fort Collins without having to stop again. Whew. Spoiler, my car continued to need periodic jumps and ended up getting a brand spanking new battery.

Adam graciously opened his door to our transient family and we moved right on in and made ourselves at home. We had a goal: figure out what the heck we are going to do. We needed to reenter the real world soon. Where, how, and all that had to be figured out.

Guys, you know how well this group deals with indecision. I can safely tell you, we still have no effing idea. I mean, who knew that finding the best job in the best location in an area that is large enough to not be boring but small enough to feel comfortable with access to a good airport would be so difficult to determine.

So, yea. I feel like not much has happened this last month. We’ve been stuck, several times and now we’re stuck in indecision. At least indecision is a familiar bed fellow, so I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually. I mean, we can’t be vagabonds forever, right?

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Slow It Down

Month Four: Slow It Down

7/5/2023

Colorado - Nebraska - South Dakota - Iowa - Minnesota

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After the action-packed first three months, we sloowwwed way down for month four and spent the vast majority of it in Colorado. We left you while we were racing the clock for planned visits with friends…

We started this month nerding out over dinosaurs.

Plate-rod combo was my initial thought on repair…

What a most excellent way to return to a state we love dearly, Colorado. The last few states were hit-or-miss on how dog friendly each town and business was so it was a breath of fresh air when we arrived in Grand Junction and pulled up to a brewery that allows dogs everywhere. *Collective sigh*

We had some van appointments in Grand Junction so we spent three days exploring the town and the neighboring town of Fruta. It was friendly, lived-in, and relaxing…except for one night where we stayed in the least ideal camping spot of the trip yet. Let’s just say we had some entrepreneurs for neighbors.

Leaving Grand Junction we accidently stumbled upon a national park. Yes, we had no idea this existed here nor had we heard of this park before. Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Say that five times fast. It was compact, super pretty and we enjoyed an epic camping spot to boot. Ten outta ten recommend.

Jake doing his thing with a camera

While I love me beer, Jake loves him some mountain biking. So we mecca-journeyed to Crested Butte where it is rumored mountain biking was invented. We settled into our camping spot, made base camp and I attempted to not turn blue at 9,000 ft. It was Jake’s turn for an injury and got “biker’s knee” (patellofemoral pain syndrome for ye fellow surgical nerds). As such, he was taking it easy on the biking and joined Leinie and me for some hiking and town exploring.

Hiking in Crested Butte

My thoughts on Crested Butte? Umm, it rhymes with rusted nuthole while using the C and B. The town was expensive and rather…pretentious. And do not get me started on the trail dog atmosphere.

Ok, I’ll start. I love trail doggos, obv, I’m a vet tech. However, want to know the number one reason I see broken trail doggos? They’re off leash. Yep, I’m that person. If Jake would let me I would hand out freebie slip leads that state “my owner is a jerk and doesn’t know what a leash is”. On this trip I have encountered sooooo many off leash dogs that have zero recall, almost nill manners, and are usually followed by the phrase, “oh, they’re friendly.” Not the damn point. Leinie is a good boy, most of the time. He is also small and is so over being bowled over by larger dogs. As such, when he feels cornered (such as on a leash while another dog, two or three surround him) he becomes reactive. Instead of an apology from the jerk owner with the poorly trained dog, I am somehow the jerk for having a reactive dog. Not unrelated, if your dog jumps on me or pushes their nose in my crouch (usually off leash) I will push them down. No, I will not say “oh, it’s ok” when you give a half-assed apology. Train your damn dog. This shitty thought mentality was ten times worse in Crested Butte than anywhere I had yet experienced. We typically keep Leinie’s dishes outside behind the front passenger wheel and have him on a lead while at camp. We literally ran out of food because off leash trail dogs would come off trail, into our camp, and eat his food. Leinie ain’t dumb and would usually hunker down in the van rather than fend off intruders who were usually a lot bigger than him. The third time it happened, three off leash dogs from a hiking party were running amok in the campsite. I told the group that they needed to leash their dogs. Their response, “We aren’t in town. If you don’t like it, you’re in the wrong place.” Come again?! You know what also happens when your dog is off leash? It shits somewhere, you don’t see (possibly don’t care) and don’t pick it up. The trails were literally covered in dog shit. It was disgusting. Ok, I’m done.

Side note, our campsite was littered with bones. It had weird vibes akin to the movie The Ritual. Venture to Crusted Butthole at your own risk. They did have pretty terrific coffee though.

Not quite my personal choice for a Xmas decoration

Moving on, we moved towards the front range and made a pit stop in Salida where we had the absolute craziest amount of hail I have ever seen in a single storm. Not all days are glamorous, some mornings you spend three hours waiting to be able to do anything.

That ain’t snow

We arrived in Colorado Springs itching to explore the front range. We hit up Garden of the Gods and one of the coolest places to enjoy a beer.

Garden of the Gods

You can actually drink in a school!

We moosied our way along the front range heading north. Jake will always fangirl over Golden and I fell hard for Loveland. But the long rest for showers, a real-ish bed, and regaining hit points was in Fort Collins. Land of breweries, trails, patagonia sweaters and Adam.

We settled right on in with Adam for a little over a week that was rather action-packed. Brewery hopping, flooded biking trails, competitive games of Cataan, and fungi documentaries to name a few.

The tramily doing what we do best…besides hiking

We also packed Adam and Leinie back into the sub for a weekend excursion in Steamboat Springs. Adam became the official first guest of the Yellow Submarine root-tent-airbnb. His reviews were raving. Steamboat was idyllic. We hit town in time for the farmer’s market, enjoyed the core trail and explored their free botanical gardens. Jake and I actually ran into Steamboat Jeff who manages a part (maybe the whole thing) and invited us to his porch to show us moose and bear videos he had. 

We ended the evening with a soak in some questionably dark hot springs that lacked showers and had a manager on a power trip. Apparently they offer clothing optional soaking after 10, we didn’t stay…

Then Adam got to experience a vagabond tradition, searching for a site on the weekend. We drove until after midnight before we ended at a site and were able to crawl into bed. The site ended up having terrific morning views and a butt load of mosquitoes.

Before we knew it, we were hugging Adam goodbye and were on our way to do some residency stuff in South Dakota. Along the way we passed through western Nebraska and stopped to enjoy Scotts Bluff and Chimney Rock. Why do those names sound familiar? Here’s a clue, they happen to coincide with dysentery and caulking a wagon to float.

The OG vanlife

Up next was a strange place called Carhenge. I get there isn’t a whole lot to do in Nebraska, but this had to have sprouted from next level boredom mixed with a healthy dose of hold-my-beer.

The vannus intermedius, the missing link between the covered wagon and modern vanlife vehicle

We continued our sight seeing as we entered South Dakota, hitting Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills, before reaching Deadwood.

Home, sweet home. Sorta. We technically are residents of Spearfish, but Lawrence County’s offices are in Deadwood. We rolled into town which was noticeably more crowded than when we came in winter and as it apparently happens in South Dakota, we got caught in stopped traffic due to a reenactment shootout. Once the gunpowder cleared we stopped in our now favorite casino Mr. Wu’s for cheapo tap beer. 

The next morning I got fresh license plates for my car. After a quick pit stop at the post office (postcards!) I attempted to get a library card, and was denied! What in the actual hell?! This is clearly the root cause for the destabilization of society. 

While I was brooding over the library card, Jake drove us to the Badlands where the mosquitoes took on a new level of demon possession. It was like my legs had chicken pox. We had a pretty epic camping spot and got hit by a crazy wind/thunderstorm that had us only slightly nervous.

Badlands National Park

We explored Badlands National Park the next day and the Minuteman Missile Site. Then it was a loooong day of driving. Originally we had hoped to make it to Des Moines in one shot but that was quickly thrown out the window when we rolled into Souix Falls at 7pm for a stretch. A walk to stretch the legs, a beer to stretch our livers, and we were back on our way to get some miles in before we called it a night. 

We made it to Iowa and our friends, Nate and Ryan the next day to kick off our Des Moines short rest (1d10 hit die). We ate, we drank, we hit up a car show where we ate and drank some more. There were breweries and the guys’ first shot at D&D. Yes, the sickness spreads.

Naturally Ryan takes the picture when my eyes are closed.

The month was winding up and Jake had some work lined up in Minnesota, so we hugged Nate and Ryan goodbye just as people were getting heavy handed with fireworks. We weren’t a mile into Minnesota when we counted three, yes three, Lindahl billboards. Non-Minnesota friends, if you have no clue what I am talking about, count your blessings.

We made good time and arrived at Jake’s parents which would serve as our base of operations for trail preparations. We settled in, deep cleaned the van and out came the laptops for some serious crunch time trail organization.

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