The Quiet Teachings of Mother Nature on the Open Road

Another driving day, another exciting stop!

Honestly, it is remarkable how Susan and I manage to meet every year. With both of us living on the open road and constantly moving from place to place, every opportunity to see each other, even for a brief visit, feels like a true gift.

So that is where I am heading this morning—Chicago, to hug Susan and Boots (Susan’s sister).

I choose to avoid toll roads so I can be on more scenic routes. Traveling on Route 20 makes the drive a bit longer; however, when it is a bluebird kind of day and farms line my path, I am happy and content.

The clear skies provide a vivid contrast to the trees, which are at the end of their foliage stage, but still offer stunning color for my landscape-movie driving day. The movement of tractors working the soil and dairy cows grazing adds a simple layer of pride and hard work to the story I witness through my windshield.

Driving west means earning another hour. Unfortunately, Chicago traffic steals it right back from me. Ouch.

Even though we keep in touch throughout the year, it is wonderful to have intimate, face-to-face time with Susan. I admire her soft, relaxed energy. I find it fascinating how we both celebrate our nomadic life in different ways. While I travel through my hikes, Susan travels through her music festivals.

We both agree that the biggest gift of this lifestyle is the people we meet and the meaningful friendships we create.

It is wonderful to see Boots again, and her little dog, Zoe.

Thank you, Boots, for opening your home to me, and thank you, Susan, my dear friend. Until next time, the road will find us together. Be safe and happy.

Good morning, a new day!

I get an early start to avoid Chicago traffic. My next stop is Omaha, Nebraska. I choose that location simply because I have a few good options for a safe place to park for the night. Many truck stops are available, and in the worst case, I can sneak into a hotel parking lot and tuck myself into a quiet corner.

Of course, I check the Road Trip Her Map, but no luck there. Therefore, I post a wanted ad in the group:

“Wanted: a safe driveway for one night.”

That is how I find my next safe place to call home—Betty’s driveway. But I still have a long drive ahead of me.

Another gorgeous bluebird day, with such clean and clear skies that the morning moon puts a smile on my face. There is something magical about seeing the moon so clearly against a pale blue sky. It feels as if Mother Nature is showing us the peaceful beauty that arises when night and day meet — a lesson in the harmony of coexistence. What belongs to the night can find harmony in the day, a simple teaching of love and respect.

By early evening, I arrive in Omaha. Luckily, Betty’s house is not far from Route 80, which is an easy stop along my route. I am deeply grateful for the women who provide me with a safe driveway.

Thank you, Betty, for the wonderful conversation and the warm night. Plugging my heated blanket into an outlet lets me boost my warmth without worrying about draining my power station. I usually set it on low, just to take the edge off a frigid night. So you can understand my gratitude for Betty’s generosity.

Another early start… Another long driving day…

(450 miles to cover)

I do not think I am doing a great job of avoiding long driving days. :)

My next destination is a rest area in Colorado—the same one I used two months ago, so already knowing the feel of the place provides a sense of comfort.

Driving through flat Nebraska means being exposed to the wind. Wow, it is so strong that I need to hold tight to my steering wheel. My landscape-movie today shows a contrast between the stillness of beautiful, white, fluffy clouds and the dry tumbleweeds racing across the open road, pushed by Nebraska’s fierce winds. And still, all I see is the beauty in their opposites and the simple harmony they create together.

What I appreciate about long driving days (with reception) is the opportunity to call friends—new and old—and nurture meaningful friendships.

Welcome to Colorado, and welcome to Mountain Time.

Tonight, Colorado prepares me for the many months of cold weather ahead. Ouch. 21°.

What keeps me warm is the simple thought that tomorrow morning, I will hug Ron, my youngest son.

Last day on the open road!

As I get closer to Boulder, the mountain range welcomes me. What a beautiful way to start a day for a mountain girl like me.

It is so good to see Ron. I am sorry to say that with such a busy day, I completely forgot to take a photo of us.

Arriving at the YMCA of the Rockies feels like coming home. I am beyond grateful for Ron’s help getting me settled into my room. This time, my room is on the third floor (with no elevator), and I need to carry my heavy power station and cooler to protect them from the freezing temperatures.

I love having Ron nearby. Two weeks ago, he moved to Denver, which increases our distance, but still keeps us close enough. It is better than San Francisco, where my oldest son, Adi, lives.

I am spent. Moving into my room exhausts me, even with Ron’s help. I complain about how many things I have, and Ron laughs and says, “Mom, you have very little.” It is wonderful to live with less.

The view from my room softens the exhaustion of the day.

Tomorrow is a new day… a new beginning.