Being on the road this time around is different than it was in the early days of September 2008. I’m enjoying it a lot less this time, finding driving the rig to be exhausting. Oh, I still adore the portable lifestyle, as my friend Donna calls it, but I’m not so loving being 50′ long. While a lot of RVers regret buying too small, I am beginning to regret buying too big.
I’m caught in a sort of conundrum: my rig is perfect for me in terms of living space. The 31′ feet rear bedroom + dressing room layout is the difference between having an RV and having a home. But for driving, it is a pain, especially when I am towing. I grow weary of missing potentially interesting turnouts because it’s not clear if I’ll be able to pull out. I know from last September that hooking and unhooking several times in a day is unacceptable and that there is also the matter of getting caught in a place where you can’t unhook. I’m starting to dream of having a 24″ rig that wouldn’t require me to have a toad and, yet, I can’t imagine living comfortably in something that small. Perhaps the solution would be to ensure that I never go to a cold climate so that a small scooter would be a good toad for me.
Another thing that I am weary of is being The One Responsible. Even if someone cuts me off or otherwise does something that could cause me to cause an accident, I’m at fault because I choose to drive a huge vehicle. It doesn’t matter that the car drivers are not letting me get into the proper lane, forgetting that I need a large breaking distance, and ignoring my wide turning radius. I just don’t find this fair. Yes, I choose to drive a big vehicle, but they choose to be idiots!
I’m on the Gold Rush Trail heading to the Yukon. In terms of milestones, I’m a third of the way there. My next big milestone will be Dawson Creek, mile 0 of the Alaska highway. I cannot even express the mess of emotion that I’m feeling right now, how I tear up every single time I realise just where I am and where I’m going. I was convinced that the North was lost to me, after dreaming of it for so long. I just couldn’t see myself making it there, not with the way my old life was going. I think I know why I can’t imagine the future beyond September: the Yukon was the last dream of my old life and when that dream died, no dreams replaced it. Oh, there are things I want to see and do, of course, but there was nothing that could replace the North. It was like with Scotland, had to go there to be free of it.
So far, this trip is exactly what I dreamt it would be–desolate, mountainous, isolated, and breathtakingly beautiful. If I am happy so far, in still relatively non-remote British Columbia, imagine how I will feel once I pass Dawson Creek!
It is good to be back to a schedule-free life, to not know where I will stop each night, to fill my days with wondrous sights, and to sleep in my own bed everywhere from a Walmart to the rim of a gorgeous chasm. Much as I might complain about some of the hassles of RVing, this is where truly belong, on the road, heading towards a dream.Share on Facebook