I’ve been planning my road trip for months.
I’ve done hundreds of hours of research. I’ve talked to experienced friends, bloggers, campers and survivalists for advice. I’ve read books, scoured the Internet and watched far too many youtube videos.
I studied maps. I practiced packing. I obsessed over every detail.
My planning was flawless. Things went exactly as planned – right up until about two hours before I actually left.
“Everybody has plan until he gets punched in the face,” Mike Tyson.
Here’s a snapshot of my first week on the road.
Day 1
Planned:
Leave by 10AM. Arrive at Sue’s house near Tampa by 2PM. Leave there by 5PM so I can make it to Ocala National Forest before dark.
Actual:
That morning, 3 neighbors came by to say goodbye. My mom, my son and two friends called to wish me well. Even my real estate agent stopped over to say goodbye. I decided that if this many people cared about me enough to say goodbye, it was worth the delay to enjoy a few moments with them. I was right.
I left at 12:30PM. As soon as I began driving, a torrential downpour hit, and slowed traffic to a crawl. By the time I arrived at Sue’s house it was after 5PM and already getting dark. Once I left, I drove to my “backup plan” spot – a Walmart parking lot in Bushnell Florida. Since there were two trucks and 3 RVs parked there, I figured this was a good spot.
It almost was. Except for the two different couples who had screaming battles in the parking lot, the 24/7 shoppers who banged carts around every hour of the night, the truckers who ran their diesel engines all night and the RVers who ran noisy generators. Did I mention the helicopter and the nearby highway noise?
All in all, I got about two hours of sleep my first night on the road.
Day 2
Planned:
Drive to Appalachicola National Forest in the Florida panhandle to camp out for several days to learn the ropes.
Actual:
Unable to sleep. I left Walmart and began driving at 4AM. I made such good time that I arrived at the national forest in the early afternoon. After exercising and hanging out a bit, I decided to drive on. I spent my second night at a highway rest stop near Pensacola Florida (along with 50 truckers who ran their rigs all night long). I was woken throughout the nights by airbrakes, doors slamming and diesel engines but I was so exhausted I still managed to sleep a few hours.
Day 3
Planned:
Drive half a day then camp in Desoto National Forest in Alabama.
Actual:
I left at 430AM and drove right through Alabama into Mississippi. After 3 hours of driving down windy country backroads, I finally found a camping spot in Homochito National Forest. It was spectacular. The forest was one fo the most beautiful I’ve ever visited. It reminded me of Pennsylvania, Maryland and Raleigh. I wanted to exercise but ran out of steam and instead repacked all of my gear in my truck so I could find what I needed on the road. I discarded an entire garbage bag of gear I already realized was unnecessary.
Day 4
Planned:
Workout in the morning then hit the road in the late morning to drive through Louisiana and camp in Davy Crocket national park in West Texas.
Actual:
Woke at 3AM. It was pitch black outside and too dark to workout. I decided to hit the road early. Before I broke camp, a severe thunderstorm hit. I got soaked. I needed my 4WD just to get out of camp – luckily it worked flawlessly.
I drove for 4 hours through a wicked storm on Mississippi’s poorly paved, unlit, windy backroads in pitch black (except for the lightening flashes) until I finally made it back to the Interstate 10. I decided that going forward, I would drive the Interstate until I arrived in New Mexico. I didn’t want to repeat this experience of driving on unlit backroads through the rest of Mississippi, Alabama and Texas.
I blew right past Davy Crocket and kept going. I ended up driving for 16 straight hours. Around hours 13 I tried to boondock near Sweetwater Texas. The Walmart prohibited overnight parking so I searched Campendium and found a spot 10 miles away. When I pulled onto the dirt road I figured there would be a turnaround ahead. I “knew” I should scout it on foot, but it was cold, getting dark, raining and I was tired. Snickers was beat too. I just wanted us both to get some sleep.
I got to the end of the dirt road. It was a dead end peninsula surrounded by water with no room to turn around! There was no way I could back all the way out so I attempted to turn around doing the “jackknife trailer” 3 point turn. After half an hour, I made it out. In the process, I had jackknifed so severely, I had dented my truck bumper and scratched it up on both sides.
I was grateful to get out at all. It was so muddy, I feared if I disconnected the trailer and tried to turn it round by hand, it would just get stuck in the mud.
I ended up returning to highway and driving another 2 hours before parking overnight in a rest stop with 20 truckers.
Day 5
Planned:
Drive hard for half a day and camp in BLM land in New Mexico. Stay in New Mexico for a few weeks to begin my real camping experience.
Actual:
Woke to severe cold, thunderstorms, wind and lightning. Hit the road at 430AM.
I made it to New Mexico and found a camp in the desert near Carlsbad Caverns National Park. On the way there I noticed that everyone I saw was wearing heavy winter clothes. Most were muddy and appeared to be oil workers.
It was only 50 that morning with really high winds. Because it had rained all morning, I figured the weather would warm up the next day. Sure deserts get cold at night, but they warm up during the day, right?
That night, Snickers and I froze in the camper. When we woke at 4AM, it was 35 degrees inside!
I decided right then….screw this. We’re leaving. Starting a life on the road is hard enough without dealing with frigid temperatures.
I knew Phoenix would be warmer.
I packed up as fast as possible while my fingers went numb from the cold. As I studied my map, I realized I could connect to Interstate 10 and hit Tucson before Phoenix. Tucson’s forecast was sunny, with highs in the 80s and lows in the 50s at night.
I mapped out route on 62/180 through New Mexico that would connect me to Interstate 10. This road appeared to be decent sized, so I figured there would be plenty of rest stops, gas stations and truck stops along the way.
I was wrong.
I drove for hours through gorgeous mountain passes. I saw picturesque vistas. I sped past ramshackle farms, trailers and migrant worker camps.
When I had about a quarter tank of gas and still hadn’t seen a station, it occurred to me that I better pull over and make sure a gas station was up ahead soon.
According to google there wasn’t a gas station for 68 miles. My GPS estimated I had enough gas to go 64 miles.
I searched for closer stations that I could reroute to. There were none.
I scanned the maps for nearby towns. They were all too far away.
I dropped my speed to 60 then 55 then 50 to improve gas mileage. It had no impact.
I watched the bars on my cell phone drop from 2 bars to NO SERVICE every few miles. I wasn’t even sure I could reach AAA if I ran out of gas. Plus it was the weekend so I knew response times would be long.
I thought about dumping my water tanks to drop weight. I considered unhitching the trailer and leaving it on the side of the road until I could return with a full tank.
There were farms and trailer compounds of oil/farm workers every few miles. I figured they must have gas stored onsite since they lived in the middle of nowhere with no gas stations around. Maybe I could buy or borrow gas if someone was home.
I hadn’t filled up my two spare gas cans because I wasn’t off-road yet. I never thought I’d need to have spare gas on a major highway.
After a few stressful hours, I lucked out and made it to a station on the outskirts of El Paso with just a few gallons left in the tank. I filled the tank and my two gas cans.
Early that evening, I made it to Tucson and camped in BLM land near Saguaro National Park.
Day 6
Last night, when I fell asleep it was 76 degrees. It dropped to 46 by morning. But unlike my night in New Mexico, this time I was prepared. I had my thermal underwear, my fleece jacket and all of my cold weather blankets in the camper. When I woke in the middle of the night shivering, I quickly added layers and fell peacefully back to sleep.
Snickers and I slept soundly for over 8 hours.
Today,finally, for the first time I setup my base camp.
I unloaded my gear. I setup my kitchen and cooked. I exercised. I cleaned the camper. I took a road shower. I cooked breakfast. Snickers and I walked. I hung my curtains. I rearranged the camper so I could have what I needed without digging through boxes in my truck.
It was a fabulous first day of this new way of life.
I expected not everything would go as planned on this trip.
One reason I’m on this journey is to learn to be flexible and to become more adaptable.
Instead of executing the perfectly planned trip, I learned some valuable lessons without suffering any significant consequences.
Here are a few road trip lessons I learned:
- Road trips will inevitably go off schedule. There will be weather delays, traffic delays, rerouting and getting lost. I need to build more slack into every schedule when road tripping.
- I need to consider more than the obvious routes. I had planned options for driving 2-4 hours a day. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t sleep and would be hitting the road for 12+ hours a day.
- Oversupply – on gas, on ready to eat food and on drinks. During marathon driving days, Ill need all of these.
- Watch the weather – since my camper isn’t insulated or heated, it’s the same temperature as outdoors. I’ll get more accustomed to the weather over time, but for now, I want to avoid extremes (especially cold ones!)
- Follow the truckers. They live in their vehicles. They rely on rest stops. They use truck stops. They know where to park, when to shift lanes and how to eat up the miles. I found truckers to be the best drivers on the highways.
- Keep cold weather gear in the camper. If I wake up and I’m cold, I want to grab a blanket or pull on more layers of clothing. It ruins a night’s sleep to have root through bins in the truck trying to find a blanket or jacket. Add a thunderstorm or bitter cold into the mix and I’m one grumpy camper.
For me the most important lesson was to enjoy the good moments. The calls of encouragement from my friends. The mountain vistas I’d only seen before in National Geographic photos. Sleeping in a dark forest hearing only birds and insects. Crossing the Mississippi River. Driving by miniature oil cities Texas. Navigating the mountain cattle in New Mexico and watched the sun set over the Arizona desert. Driving further, making adjustments on the fly and road tripping with my little dog.
These moments are all we really have in have.
Ellen tried to teach me this. It’s how she lived every day of her life.
Not me though. I lived in the past and often in the future. I missed years of enjoyment simply by not savoring what was happening right in front of me.
It wasn’t until Ellen was dying that it finally sunk in for me. All we had were a few good moments left. I tried to enjoy those brief moments with her.
I’d like to think she’d be proud of me finally getting this lesson through my thick head. She’d smile, shake her head and say, “It’s about time, silly.”
It was a good trip – even though it didn’t go as planned.