Two Running Moose ~ Glacier NP

Written June 8th, 2019

This was the first national park where we required of each other bear spray as an everyday carry. In fact, when driving into the park, we came across a bottle of it lying on the road, so we opened the door and grabbed it and immediately felt safer, both of us now being equipped with our own.

Wild Running Moose

Joe is behind the wheel of our Sprinter van home and we’re traveling Route 2 in Montana. We’re en route to East Glacier National Park, and it’s Memorial Day now 2:30pm. We spent the morning doing a foot tour of Apgar village, followed by showering, eating eggs on bagels, more self-grooming and then RV maintenance: cleaning dishes, sweeping floors, and moving out of “camp mode” (passenger seat turns forward and hiking boots go on sliding door step). We’re hoping to accomplish a short 3 mile hike around Beaver’s Lake Loop before driving south to Helena, our planned stay for the week of work that lies ahead.

While sitting in the passenger seat, listening to an audiobook (Becoming by Michelle Obama), I see something out of the corner of my eye: a large animal running on the grassy margins of Route 2, to the left of our vehicle, and keeping pace with our moving wheels!. A horse!? No, it’s a moose!! It’s got humps for a back and a face with more round edges than long angles. And behind this running moose is a tiny baby, too, trotting along at its own miniature full-on pace. WOW!!! Joe doesn’t see this moving display of nature right away as his attention is drawn to the podcast in his ear. 

“JOE! Look! It’s a moose!!”

His head turns left and he simultaneously pulls off the road and onto the grass –– the big and little moose run back, far into the woods. Joe caught a last glance, enough to feel the magic happenstance of it all.

“What a lucky encounter,” we gush.

Together we’ve now seen a moose three times in the wild. The first was in Maine 2011 as we drove to a mountain ski house to meet up with my brother and his friends. The moose was stepping alongside the road gently as we drove. We passed it in the dusky gray hours, just before dark and it was huge. 

The second time was in Vermont on the Long Trail. The moose was right there, 50 feet away and crossing paths with mine as I sought a good pee spot. I was terrified - afraid of her stature and size, and having just read warnings about their possible aggressiveness if caught unaware.

And the third time, of course, happened just now on the outskirts of Glacier National Park.

Feelings of safety

On October 16th, 2020 in response to a photo I posted on FB, a friend asked the following question and I wrote a lengthy response for a FB comment — I’m sharing that here! :)

You guys have covered a lot of ground. Do you guys feel safe traveling around the country in your RV?

Hi, friend! Nice to hear from you, and thanks for your question and the opportunity to share (I wrote quite a bit!):) Yes, we do feel safe, though I have to admit, in 2020 we've been intentionally spending more time in each place we arrive for purposes of greater stability, because van life, and especially while working full time, can be really challenging, and especially while during a pandemic! For instance, we spent 2.5 months in Sedona, Arizona at the same campground for half of March and for all of April and May. This was at the beginning of the pandemic, so it was important for us to find a place where we could stay for a while and feel safe and grounded and have access to resources, and to heal, too! ( we both were pretty sick immediately after taking a flight from JFK - RENO at the beginning of March). We had familiarity w/ this particular Sedona campground, and therefore knew we'd feel safe and wouldn't mind staying for a while. This was important, as many of the state campgrounds and parks -- places we prefer to stay for budgetary reasons -- were closing or were closed. Also, during the first 1.5 yrs. of van life we'd work from coffee shops each day, but during the pandemic, that has not been possible or something we wanted to do. Both of us working full time, taking phone calls, attending video meetings, etc. while sharing the small space of the van can be hard.

So we've been lucky to have a short term lease on an apartment here in Boulder, CO where we'll be staying for the next 2 months (Oct. & Nov.’20). This was intentional. Joe and I thought carefully about where we'd want to be during this time of the presidential election and continuing pandemic -- we knew we'd want to be in a place and culture that is more progressive, open-minded, of diverse thought, etc. We also have a couple friends here, too.

One thing we've been contending with is the wildfires and the wildfire smoke. In our most recent 5 week van trip to the Pacific Northwest we got turned around due to the wildfires. It's not that we didn't feel safe (well yeah, maybe we did feel a little unsafe, as the fires were spreading so quickly in CA, OR, and WA, and we were in WA), but we could taste the smoke, we were coughing more, and advised to not engage in strenuous activity outside. We were frightened by the amount of smoke, the color of the skies, the possibility of the fires spreading, etc. So we turned around and went East, back to Montana/Wyoming area (where there was still a lot of smoke). Now, we're back in Boulder and just north of us Colorado is experiencing its largest wildfire on record. Yesterday the skies were a crazy orange color for a few hrs. You can taste and smell the smoke here, too.

All in all, we've always felt safe for the most part, but the pandemic and weather events/Earth changes have had a major impact on our van life. We are very grateful and lucky to be where we are now, in Boulder, in a small apartment w/ the van parked just outside and w/enough money to manage both. There are so many homeless people and sick people and grieving people ---we have so much, and others have so little in the way of support, resources, security. How can we help? This is becoming more of a priority for me.   

We have a lot - we (Joe and I ) have each other - we feel grateful, though we are not immune to fear, or stress, anxiety, depression, etc. -- we've had our fair share of that along with many others on this planet at this time. I also want to point out that our travels have largely been on the West Coast and for the most part, in like-minded communities. I'm sure we'd feel differently, pulling up in our fancy van (the van gets a lot of attention and ppl. make assumptions about us based on it) in certain other geographical locations. I also want to acknowledge the privilege of our skin-color and heteronormative appearance and how that's influenced my feelings of safety, too. That is a thorough summary --- thank you for listening! I hope you are well! 

6 Month Reflections (two years ago)

Originally written on October 24, 2018

Personal Hygiene

Try to keep yourself clean.

You can’t escape the duties of personal hygiene just because you’re living in a van.

Hot showers are glorious.

You don’t need nearly as many showers per week as you might think. 

A hot shower is a real luxury.

Our Sprinter Starship

An RV has a life of its own - many admirers. It also makes sounds at night and at all times (e.g. heating systems, refrigerator and water pumps).

RV coach systems, no matter how well designed, will act quirky. The bumps and jangles of the vehicle due to travel tends to upset electronics and whatnot.

It’s okay for your RV bed to double as a dinner table, a movie theater, a work office, a yoga studio, a seat near the campfire, a wildlife viewing station, and the list goes on.

Our Mercedes Benz Sprinter Van home is sexy and we know it. This helps us both stick out and blend in with our surroundings, depending on the locale we’re visiting.

The small space of our van life home (it’s literally a small hallway and bed) encourages immediacy in our behavior: e.g. dishes get done right away, because if they sit piled up in the sink, then we cannot drive without them flying around, and they take up too much of our “standing desk” kitchen workspace; if we don’t make our bed or put away our clothing, then our entire home looks a mess, and again, multi-use spaces then become single use storage spots, so we tend to put things away immediately after taking them out

Culture

Our first concrete understanding of the West Coast (besides its unarguable geologic beauty) is that it’s made up of three critical ingredients (in other words, you see these everywhere in plentitude): Coffee Shops, Breweries, and Dispensaries

Subway is eVeRyWheRe! And so is Burger King, McDonalds, Walmart, Starbucks, and pizza shops. And, there’s other weird fast food chains we’ve never heard of, like Wienerschnitzel, the world’s largest hot dog chain.

Don’t let the storefronts fool you (commerce is commerce is commerce is commerce).

Homelessness is a real problem in our country, and more noticeable and plentiful in temperate weather environments. It is heartbreaking to see, and we’re not sure how to help.

Nomadic Life

Water is the most important commodity.

We have a more intimate relationship with the waste we produce (garbage bag hanging in hallway, the necessity of dumping our black and gray water tanks every few days).

Humans produce A LOT of waste (both organic and non-organic) and someone/something must take care of all that waste (e.g. campground dumping system, garbage dumpsters that companies pay to have others haul away, garbage bins in shopping plazas that employees must tend to, etc).

Our shit really does stink.

The multitude of moments, in van life, where you feel or experience something new is certainly a draw and an enjoyment. Just as exciting is also the opportunity to become familiar with a locale, to get to know a place and develop a routine there. 

California campgrounds offer en route camping which is so helpful for those who don’t plan ahead (ahem..) and for busy summer months when campsites are all booked up.

It is harder to recycle ♻️ bottles and cans and paper when living nomadically. 

The idea of having a bonfire in your boondocking spot every night (in places where fires are allowed) is so thrilling and fun, yet in reality, the strong smoke stench that remains on your clothing for days later is less than desirable.

Smart wool clothing yields the most utility for long stretches of time without needing to be washed (doesn’t hold scents, doesn’t wrinkle, keeps its shape, wicks away moisture).

Living nomadically, we spend a lot more time looking at the stars. 

There is an aspect of immediacy in the lifestyle we live,

You ALWAYS need quarters (parking, campground showers, and laundry). I’m reminded of being in college again.

If you have money, you can pay to be comfortable.

Good boondocking spots are hard to leave.

Good boondocking spots have the following characteristics:

• Privacy (allowing for outdoor shower, private yoga, ability to make noise without disturbing others)

• Flat ground

• Space to spread out

• Away from a main road

• Limited vehicular and commercial noise

• Free (that’s the main characteristic of boondocking)

• Not too far from downtown amenities

• Vistas (a definite bonus!)

• Close to hiking trails (a definite bonus!)

Great boondocking spots from the first 6.5 months of our nomadic life:

• Washington Park Arboretum, Seattle, WA

• Barker Pass Road, Tahoe City, CA

• Sierra Vista Trailhead @ Organ Mountains National Monument, New Mexico

• Sedona, Arizona - Forest Road 525C

New Understandings

Don’t mistake vehicular motion for personal growth. Different sights and states can awaken you, but it is your choice to become awakened or not. It is through your personal effort alone that patterns of behavior and thought can be transformed. It is a choice to see yourself honestly and to choose how you’d like to be. You can just as easily choose not to change, too. Whatever positively suits you, though I encourage you to make efforts toward growth. The effects of positive growth manifest in twofold! However you understand it, it’s your choice. Yours alone. 

With what intent and perspective do you choose? For whom do you choose? Toward what goal or with what aim do you choose? 

* * *

It is easy to mistake comforts for necessities. 

* * *

Friendships on the road deepen quicker than those with friends you make back home. Whether you’re both living the nomadic lifestyle and connect on that unique level, or perhaps your new friend is a local who shows you the ropes - in either scenario, an immediate connection full of gratitude and meaning arises. Also, the fact that your time together is knowingly short, which also breeds feelings of closeness quicker than usual, as you’re more willing to commit time and energy toward one another knowing that it may be the last time you’ll ever see each other or talk. There is a freedom in that exchange which allows for more honesty. Take for instance the feeling I’ve had before, when traveling through parts unknown, of wearing whatever I damn well please (e.g. colorful knee-high socks, something more gender neutral, a clothing choice that is fashion-averse…) because I feel less of a servant to whatever culture resides there— I am a passerby, I am passing through, so I feel less obligation to conform to a cultural norm that shapes the people living there. I am less aware of it, too, so in this space of not knowing, I express my choices of fashion more easily. I like this feeling and the freedom that I give to myself, that is in large part provided by van-life.

* * *

People genuinely desire to be helpful.  When traveling, and arriving to a place as an outsider, this innate human trait becomes more noticeable. Locals, and those in the know, often like to provide tips on places to visit, or where to eat, and this exchange is enjoyable for both giver and receiver.