The Re-Entry Part I: Familiar Places and Faces
Journal Entry #40
September 12, 2022
Our last “exotic” destination, as we headed east, was a bucket list stop that had been on my radar from the beginning- the Badlands of South Dakota. We knew we would be hugging Route 90 eastward and a visit to this area made sense. Glacier would be hard to top and we were feeling wistful about the trip coming to a close so this was a welcome distraction given the long, flat, mostly featureless miles we would be driving.
Coming upon the Badlands was more exhilarating than we imagined. Maybe it was the surreal landscape that gave us a thrill after so many months of forests. It was wide open from afar, seemingly featureless, with miles of honeyed grasses atop flat buttes. Then, suddenly, the creamy white, moonscape-like cliffs appeared and dropped away improbably down into canyon washes. Or maybe it was the light; soft warm pastels at dawn and dusk. Or the blue sky; endless in all directions, painted with either puffs of white clouds or wind swept, threaded wisps punctuating the scene.
Or, just maybe, it was that we knew after this stop we would be returning to the “familiar” - familiar landscapes, friends, family, that made this unfamiliar landscape really special.
We camped in an area just outside Badlands National Park well known as one of the best boondocking (free) camping sites in the US. Steer Pasture sits high atop a grassy butte with dramatic cliff views. We parked the van on the edge of one of the cliffs and spent a few nights decompressing and resetting. We biked the cliffs. We sat and watched the quiet. On our second day there, we met a fellow traveler, D. He had parked his van just down the dirt path from us. We introduced ourselves. He had a NY license plate; whenever we have seen vans with NJ or NY plates out on the road (which are still fairly uncommon out west) we made it a point to say hello. As it turned out, D was just starting out on his full time vanlife journey. Over a glass of wine we took a tour of his build, and we showed him ours.
The conversation turned to travel stories and we shared some of our favorite destinations and camping spots and other sage advice. He was in his first weeks of journeying and trying to settle into a rhythm and he seemed appreciated our input. It struck us— we were now “vanlife veterans.” It felt good to realize that we had become good at journeying and at road life. The rhythm of constant changes and adjustments were second nature to us. Through D’s lens we remembered our early days and the challenges that came with leaving the comfort and routine of stationary living. Frankly, we were more than a little jealous. Ah, to be just starting out and to have your long bucket list of destinations ahead of you. Sigh.
After crossing eastward over the Mississippi, landscapes began to look more familiar, gently rolling roads, mixed deciduous woods and forests. There was also familiar weather. More variable skies with summer afternoon rains and something we hadn’t had much of since the Pacific Coast, thick HUMIDITY. Ooof.
Our next two stops were with friends which was a good “slow warm up” to stationary life. First we spent time with M, an old work colleague of mine and her partner W at their farm and winery in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Though we stayed in the van, we enjoyed the boisterous loving chaos of dinners with the family members as they arrived home from work along with a cadre of dogs and cats who awaited treats. Granddaughter E, the baby - about nine months old - was the star, just taking her first steps and offering us gifts of magnets from the refrigerator. We had the pleasure of tasting wine with M and W in the tasting room the first night, and the next evening M gave us a tour of the production cellar where we tried their wines “in progress”, tasting straight from the steel tanks just a week or so before bottling.
The second stop was with old friends of Tom’s, T and L, in Midland MI, where Tom had worked for many years and raised his kids. This time, we stayed in the house; relaxing and chatting over coffee and hot breakfasts and then sightseeing and grabbing dinners and drinks around town in… wait for it, a regular car… and not driven by Tom! This was a treat for both of us. We even managed to catch the tail end of an open air drag show in support of LGBTQ rights - in the fairly conservative city Midland, of all places. The four of us share relatively similar politics and were happy to raise our hands with money held high for the performers to collect for the cause. We also managed a Milk Carton Kids concert in Ann Arbor, where the venue had just reinstituted the mask mandate again. After months in the “wilds” of Idaho, Montana, and South Dakota it was a reminder that we were moving into the world of population density on a scale we haven’t been exposed to for many many months.
The ride onward to Akron was quieter than normal. We both seemed lost in our thoughts. In Akron, Tom’s grandmother’s house awaited us, quietly unlived in since her passing five years ago and still furnished as she left it, knick knacks, brown velour furniture and all. The house is a three dimensional time capsule of another era. (Tom’s mom has held onto this house, the one she grew up in, though she lives many hundreds of miles away in South Carolina). The house and the generous offer from Tom’s mom to use it as a stopover and a place to store some of our belongings was a huge boon for us. Just before we embarked on our trip we stashed my fairly large art collection there along with other boxes of random stuff. The basement was clean, dry and temperature controlled which gave comfort. The garage at the house became the home for my car, which would take a year long slumber there.
Returning to Akron meant that re-entry was “for real” now. We spent the afternoon doing laundry, and getting the car ready for travel. This unfortunately meant dealing with a dead rodent that improbably made its way through the dash vents and had nested in my cabin air filter near the fresh air intake. Not fun. Though in the end we were thankful that there was no other rodent entry or damage anywhere else in the engine bay or main cabin.
We determined which items we could take back to Ithaca on this trip and packed them in the van and the back of the car. We would each be driving solo for the next leg for the first time in 12 months.
We worked in a bike ride in Cuyahoga National Park, which is just a few minutes from the house the next day. Given we have been making our way through many of the National Parks on our journey, we figured this was a worthy add to our list of NP experiences and a welcome diversion from packing the van and car. That night we slept in grandma’s old (and insanely uncomfortable) bed and then made our way to Ithaca, each on our own, the next morning.
We landed in Ithaca for the first time in over a year on September 1st. The goal for this “visit” was to get the house keys back from our property manager and quickly inspect it; tenants had just moved out the day before. Upon first look, the house was, well, let’s just say “loved”, and not in a tidy, well-kept way… more like a child’s favorite blanket “lovey” - a bit dirty and a tattered around the edges. There would be work ahead of us. The good news was that this visit was just a quick hello. We weren’t staying long. We camped in the van (no furniture yet, to sit on or sleep in!) and the next day we departed Ithaca and set out to meet my brother A and sister-in-law S and their two kids M and Z for our second annual Labor Day camping weekend, this time up at Fillmore Glen State Park. The last time we saw them all in person was during the holiday season. My brother and I are very close and this was a more than welcome reunion. The weekly FaceTime calls with A and S which began during the pandemic and carried on throughout our trip were important- they gave us a sense of “belonging” and connection as we lived on the move, mostly as strangers in new places. It was our camping trip with them last Labor Day that kicked off our van-life journey and it seemed only fitting to come full circle and end the journey celebrating with them.
And, just like last year, though the days were pleasant enough for hiking and exploring, the evenings were rainy wash outs! So we huddled under canopies, sipped “camp Bourbon” and had some great laughs. Oh, and hugs all around. (PS - Never underestimate the power and of good hugs long overdue.
Living closer to my brother and his family, now just a 90 drive away (vs. the 5 hour trip from NJ) is the certainly one of the highlights of returning to stationary living.
But, as we said our goodbyes, we knew the heavy lifting of re-entry (part II) in Ithaca was awaiting us…
Hello Amie, thought about what you wrote as we have a little car rental with NJ plates here in NH. I too loved your writings and vicariously studied your photos. RVtravel.com has a photo contest you should enter! My wife and I finished the initial DIY build of our Sprinter. Still have a ways to go to complete, but we could give it a go if needed. Congrats on your journey!
Welcome back to ‘home base’! We listened to Stephen Ambrose’s book on Lewis and Clark during our 2 week PNW trip. The exploration company said they knew they had returned to ‘civilization’ when they saw cows grazing along the Missouri River in what is now Iowa.
Did you guys have anything like that?