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Not all those who wonder are lost. – JRR Tolkien
Travelin’ solo is a misnomer – you meet so many people on the road, especially other solo travelers. For me, that’s part of the adventure – meeting new folks. Stay open to who and what fate sends your way and live the magic of travel.
I met Tony in Monument Valley, Navajo Nation. What started with a guy trying to snuggle in a little too close to my parking space, ended with a valley tour in his shiny Ford F150, and a delicious freeze-dried breakfast he prepared amongst the giants of de Chelly sandstone and Organ Rock shale. (N. America’s Colosseum is what I call them.) My car didn’t have good clearance for the rocky ride around the valley and he invited me to join him. What a polite, hospitable guy. At first I wrote him off as clueless. How quick I was to judge.
And then I met Gale.
I asked if she’d take a picture of my bike and me at the Bryce park sign and we immediately hit it off. Petite and fiery, Gale was a unique solo travelin’ gal who DID stay in free/dispersed camp sites unlike other women I’d met, although not in a tent, she slept in her car. I asked her the same question I’ve asked all the women this trip.
Why do you camp alone? Aren’t you afraid?
I’ve always been a people pleaser – spent my time taking care of others. Now I can do whatever I want to, for as long as I want to. And I’m not afraid, I grew up in the country. I got a gun, a couple knives, some spray… I got more ways to hurt them then they can hurt me! Besides, Jesus will protect me.
After three marriages and three children before 40, Gale moved from Louisiana to Texas for a new relationship with a man she calls “the survivalist.” It would last 20 years. When covid hit, they moved from a Dallas home to a rodent-infested country trailer, to wait out the epidemic without power – because it was safer – for 2 years.
He was preparing for the world to end – nuclear explosion – stockpiling food and equipment. I did the cooking and cleaning. He always talked about being a millionaire and how smart he was – so much more spiritually advanced than me. I was attracted to him and his long hair, but the Survivalist liked me (she presses down with her thumb and rubs it in). He didn’t shower, obsessed with being online, and couldn’t relate to people. I had enough. This is my first time solo. I’ve been out 6 weeks. Now I use my skills for my own life.
I found myself intrigued by someone who shared so much of my present, but nothing of my past. We would never have met in “coupled” life. Why would she stay so long with this loser? * Her challenges seemed much more complicated than mine. Were our lives too divergent, or could opposites with a shared road reality find commonplace and stay in touch? The next day we met for coffee at Bryce Lodge. I’ve quickly come to love Gale’s “can-do” attitude. All of the sudden she’s a woman flying solo, figuring out at 59 who she is and how to use her skills to comfort and care for her. Takes guts to walk away and dare to want something better. She’s inspiring and still on the road – New Mexico as of this post.
Comfort is essential on the road. Don’t leave home without it, and get more where you can, from people and supplies. Start with your bed. As my age increases, so does the quality of my camp mattress.
Here are more tools of tranquility.
May kitchen comfort meet your open road very soon.
Tablecloth: I like a fabric tablecloth for camping; certainly not plastic. Sure plastic cleans up easier, but when you only have a picnic table and tent, real cloth goes a long way toward that cozy at home feeling.
Insulated coffee cup: Hot coffee surviving cold camp mornings is a sign of expertise! For years my Yeti mug moved seamlessly from breakfast to happy hour, but then I got too much good-bottle of-red-with-added-hints-of-coffee. Now I’ve up-ed my game with an additional insulated mug for non coffee drinks.
Double Duty Kitchen Tools: Space is always a factor in a car like my Nissan Kicks. I’ve only bring two bowls, a smaller one for soups etc., and a medium metal bowl for cooking. At night the metal bowl double-duties into a spa world of warmth and relaxation. Pack face cloths and at camp, fill the bowl with heated water to enjoy the best face and foot sponge bath ever. Look up at the star-filled sky, breathe it all in, give thanks, and go to bed with clean feet. Heaven. Even guys like this. Dirty water bowls douse fires at evenings end.
Next week: Recipes from the Road.
* well actually, I can answer this question because now that I get to the end of the piece, I remember I did the same (stay in a negative relationship too long). We have more in common than I first acknowledged Gale. How quick I was to judge inaccurately yet again.
Photos by LSIC