It Starts
06.13.2020 – 06.18.2020
Let me tell you what. It’s been an exhausting few days.
We left Pensacola some 2 plus weeks ago and stayed at my sister’s house in Navarre to finish up this van we’ve been converting. 4 days ago (Sat, 13th, for those keeping up), we left my sister’s house and managed to get a whopping 15 minutes down the road to my mom’s driveway, where we stayed for our first night transitioning to life in the van…sleep interrupted, but FL’s humidity was mostly to blame (Granted, we had returned to Pcola to say bye to some family in between my sister’s and my mom’s.)
By the time we made it to Clayvon’s, in Augusta, GA–“all they care about is their tournement”–it was nearly nightfall and our options of activities were limited. After tapas at The Hive, the three of us were content with just sitting in his driveway, talking about everything and nothing. Nick retired to bed at 10, a late hour for us. Meanwhile, Clay, the dogs, and I stayed up. Our conversations ranged from the van to Black Lives Matter to his and my family to the clouds. We reminiced on our time at the DLI and talked about the people we missed from there. We confided our hopes for the future and our frustrations with our limitations as people and what we wanted to improve upon. After not seeing each other for almost a year (and neither one of us that great about talking on the phone), we had a lot to catch up on. As 3am rolled around, sleep finally won us both over and we said our goodnights and, because I was certain we would leave before he woke up, our goodbyes.
Thanks to Nick letting me sleep in a bit and to the forgotten fact that we had crossed over to Eastern time, we were able to see Clay the next morning as well, just as we were wrapping up our morning routine.
We drove to Asheville, NC, stopping along the way for some Georgia peaches and a rare opportunity for a picture of the Blue Ridge we were driving along.
Despite my motion sickness along the mountainous road, I was happy to be surrounded by all the shades of green provided by the hickory, poplar, and oak mostly (according to Nick – the more knowledgeable one between us).
Unfortunately, the fog and rain disrupted any hiking we might have done. But we settled on the idea that it would clear up by the next day. In the moment, our main concern was where to park the van. This was our first night without someone’s driveway to park on. I suggested an overlook, off the side of the road. I often stayed the night at overlooks when driving from Monterey, CA to Las Vegas, NV – a trip I made to see my sister almost every four-day weekend I had while going to school there. Nick was hesitant though because of the novelty of it, mostly. He worried the rangers wouldn’t allow it and we’d be woken in the middle of the night, as you’re supposed to register your car to do an overnight hike. He went through the process last year, in hiking Mt. Rogers. It did’t help that a friend of ours, Mike, had recently gotten bothered by some police officers for sleeping in his car while staying the night in a beach parking lot. So, we settled for a dirt road off the side of the main one.
As luck would have it, the rain and fog didn’t clear up. In fact, it still hasn’t x number of days later. Regardless, Nick woke in the middle of the night with the worry that we were going to get stuck. A legitimate concern. Naturally, I fell back asleep with no more thought on the subject. About an hour or two later though, I heard the van start up. We thought we might just park on the side of the road. I was fine with this idea. But I’m fine with sleeping anywhere so long as sleeping is involved. Eventually though, we ended up at an overlook.
While we didn’t get woken by any rangers, we did have another problem. Our van wouldn’t shift gears. This problem happened before, early on in the purchase of it and before much of the conversion had started. But we were told it was a simple glitch that we ought not worry about. Turning the car off and back on should fix it, and it did then.
However, that was not the solution this time. We were stuck somewhere between 20 and 30 mph until we could reach a mechanic. Two mechanics later (the first to make sure it wasn’t an emergency and the second from the dealership to actually diagnose and correct the problem), we still don’t have a fix for the problem. (The first mechanic cleared the transmission’s control module’s computer history, fixing the sensor’s communication issues, but thereby masking whatever underlying mechanical problems might persist.)
The van is shifting gears just fine now, as if nothing had happened. And that would be the end of it, if the thought in the back of our heads wasn’t of when the next glitch will happen. Will we be near a town? Or will we be in some desolate location?
Either way, we spent most of the day waiting around for a mechanic. It was now approaching nightfall and time to find a place to park for the night.
We used the iOverlander app to find a spot. But there were none. So we found a Walmart and parked in their parking lot (only to find the pretty Hungry Mother State Park in the morning).
It marked a strange return to Marion, VA, as we had met here to hike the AT down to Damascus some five years prior, but couldn’t locate the park and shelter we found then.
How ever many days later, or, as I like to call it, yesterday, we visited the Shenandoah National Park. It was still raining. But we were tired of being on the road.
Our first few days of van-life were not what we had expected. We had envisioned ourselves spending most of our days hiking and being in Nature, not in a van. The rain and fog were both a serious bummer, rain being the main complaint of #vanlife.
And, at whatever point, I suggested we hike some anyway. If I’d been more patient, I would’ve waited for McAfee’s Knob. Nick had hiked it while walking the Appalachian Trail SOBO some years ago. But I wasn’t. I pulled over at the next trailhead we saw.
It started off as a meadow before ascending into forests of more hickory, poplar, and oak. There was a scattered bit of sycamore, birch, and crabapple persisting from an old homestead, along with blooming flowers that I couldn’t hope to identify, besides Queen Anne’s Lace and Columbine. The rhododendron (Mountain Laurel) and flame azalea were almost blown, but still striking against the dark wet foliage.
It wasn’t long before we reached an opening in the trees and found a sign marking a summit.
While the fog and rain obstructed any hope of seeing a view, it was a huge relief to be outside the van, exercising. I hadn’t realized how cooped up I had been feeling until I had gotten my legs going. It took a minute to remember that I was in the woods and ought to be paying more attention to the beauty around me. Even then though, I dismissed the notion and focused more so on getting out my energy. I promised myself I’d appreciate the trees on the way back down.
The dogs, while possibly miserable about being soaked, were (I’m projecting) equally as ecstatic about being able to explore.
That was the only hike we were able to get in before the rain became a steady downpour. I was feeling pretty desperate to stay out of the van and requested a stay at a hotel.
And now you’re all caught up! We have WiFi, A/C, and a TV! The plan is to not do much of anything today… maybe some laundry.
We’re off to a rough start. But I’m sure things will be better once we get away from this weather. It’s supposed to rain in North Carolina, Virginia, West Virginia, and southern Pennsylvania for like 10 days or something wild.
So, we’re skipping a lot of beautiful country and just heading north. We’ll see what happens next.