This seems like a moment for reflection. Not just the beginning of a new year, but having reached the mile markers set forth in the blog’s name.
[One might think this would be a good time to bring the blog to a close, but I feel inclined to keep it going, at least on a sporadic basis. It’s a nice way to communicate with people who are interested in more than our occasional Facebook rants and shares.]
Two years ago we embarked upon a journey. We uprooted from all things familiar and beloved and headed into an uncertain but exciting future. We didn’t know how long or where our adventure would take us.
At the two week marker, we posted our impressions of Arizona. By two months, we were well into exploring and loving New Mexico. From there we picked up the pace and covered the gulf coast and east coast, cutting westward through the Midwest and down the pacific northwest and back to California by the first year’s end.
It was fitting that our first year of full-time RVing ended in the Bay Area, back among the familiar and beloved. But we weren’t done yet. As we embarked on our second year, we resolved to take things more slowly, being more deliberate about getting to know different parts of the country. We thought we’d concentrate on the west, spending more time in each location. We also thought we’d attend a little more to places that might be an eventual stopping point. But we were far from stopping.
A leading contender was the Napa, Petaluma, Santa Rosa area — close enough to San Francisco area friends, cultural scene, doctors, and baseball, but conceivably affordable. We imagined that unless something else presented itself, we’d end up looking for a place to live in that area.
But our plan was to spend the winter in Palm Springs, revisit a few places we’d loved in Arizona and New Mexico, and then head north through Utah, Colorado, Montana, and to the Canadian Rockies. We had a lot of other places to revisit and to visit anew, and we assumed there would be an Alaskan voyage somewhere along the way (as if Alaska is on the way to anything!). The road stretched out in front of us.
But not settled. The hardest thing about deciding to move to Prescott was deciding to stop full-time RVing. Neither of us were really ready to stop, but yet we felt really good about the decision.
So now, two weeks, two months, and two years in — here we are.
Facebook’s memories remind us of where we were two years ago (just launching into the unknown) and one year ago (with a resolve to savor more slowly). We are wistful. There is some sadness at the adventurous life we’ve left behind. But we are also delighted by our life in Arizona — and by the myriad new adventures just beyond our door.
Today we sold the truck, the last vestige of our full-time RV life. But we have a smaller RV, perfect for all the shorter jaunts we’ll take from our new base. We’ve already discovered some pretty amazing places. And we don’t rule out that we might once again take longer RV trips, with longer RVs. But in the meantime, we’re confident there will be plenty to keep us from growing old in place.
Our two year marker is one of satisfaction, but not of complacency. Stay tuned.