Flying Solo
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Everything Changes So Quickly
Just a few days ago I was facing houselessness. I was considering moving into my truck camper full-time, and then I woke up one bright sunny morning and everything had changed.
I had grown used to the feeling of dread I had waking up every morning and knowing I was at the end of my ten year journey with my house. I was grieving and letting go. I feared never having a home again; being a vagabond for the rest of my life. Although in part, it appealed to me to be so footloose and fancy free, the Taurus in me was really rebelling. There was a fight between the part of me that wanted to roam, and the part of me that needed roots. And it was that one bright, sunny morning in my home in Arizona that the two parts of me came to a compromise.
My truck camper had served me well for three years. I loved it! It had been my home, away from home. But it was time to let it go. Instead of letting my house go, I would let my house on wheels go and I would go back to Red Raven, my mini van, for my adventures, at least for now. I would have both roots and wings.There was an excitement about rebuilding Red Raven as my camper. She was so much sleeker, lighter and so much better on gas. She wasn’t the tiny home that my camper was. She didn’t have a kitchen and a bathroom, a queen bed, and a dinette. But she would have a bed and a makeshift kitchen.
Rather than driving off into the abyss, not knowing where I was going or where I would end up, which I have to admit, is a bit exciting, I would be renting out the upstairs of my home and moving into my downstairs space. This would allow me to still have a home base and be able to journey in the van.My Eat, Pray, Roam journey would continue as I capture the journey of eating a plant based diet, being on a spiritual path, and roaming to interesting places.
Having roots and wings really appeals to me. This is the best of both worlds I have the stability of my home and the freedom of roaming in Red Raven.
Let the journey begin!
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Facing Houselessness
I have been waking up early in the morning with a feeling of dread. It is that familiar feeling that I am not being supported by the Universe; that life is kicking me out. I get up! Make my tea and sit with the feeling until it gives way to other feelings. I log into my computer to write this blog post and see that a past client is reaching out for support. A small sign of abundance. I turn my phone on and my boyfriend is offering to buy my van, Red Raven, now, so that I will have the cash, and I will turn it over to him when I leave. More abundance.
Maybe the Universe is showing me that I am making the right decision. It is supporting me in my new direction. Maybe as I surrender and move in the direction that is unfolding before me, more opportunity and more abundance will come.
My saving grace is to trust in the very thing I feel has abandoned me and let me down. I have to trust that this higher power; this higher force has a plan for my life that I can’t yet understand. This is a redirection. I am being guided into a new life. I don’t know what that life looks like. Sometimes I fear the worst.
My reflections go to the homeless man sitting on the street corner with his sign “anything will help,” and I see him through new eyes. What was his story? How did he get there? Any one passing by might assume it was drugs, or alcohol or some catalyst of his own doing. But what if it was just a series of events so far beyond his control, that he could not break the fall?
In Sedona, it is typical to hear the saying “why did you create this?” With the law of attraction, there is an assumption that everything we experience in our life is a product of our own creation, either consciously or subconsciously. Either we are creating through intention or through default. But this has always been confusing for me. For months on end I would wake up every morning thanking God for my great abundance, even as my life was falling apart. I would still affirm that I was wealthy and had everything I needed. This didn’t prevent my life from falling apart. Some might say I didn’t feel it enough. I didn’t believe it strong enough. But the truth is, I did believe that things were going to turn around for me. I put so much effort into trying to keep my life afloat, believing that my efforts were going to pay off.
This is where the feeling of betrayal comes from. I did everything right! Sure I felt fear and uncertainty. But I also had a lot of hope and faith that things were going to change. So is it possible that life takes everything from us, when it is trying to redirect us? Does the Universe/God, rip our life apart when we are far too comfortable, so we will be forced into the life that is more fully aligned with our purpose?
A friend of mine reminded me “Kaleah, maybe one day you will look back on this time and realize you were taken to a much greater place.” The new can always be much greater than the old. But it can also be worse. Only time will tell.
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Today it Became Real
As my world was crumbling down around me and I knew I had to make a change, I began to grieve the losses. I couldn’t hold on any longer to what was falling apart. I had to face the reality unfolding in front of me and let go of trying to breathe life into something that was dying.
The old life was beginning to fall away and I had to let it go. I had to begin putting my eyes on the future possibilities; what wanted to come into being.
You see, I believe life has a plan for us, but we don’t always know the plan. We fear letting go of the old because it is what was safe and familiar. We built our comfort zone around the old. Letting go of “what was” means stepping out into the abyss, not knowing what is next. Although I was beginning to see a rough outline, I still didn’t know how it was all going to unfold.
Today, was the day it became real that I was going to be leaving my home of ten years. I called the key people involved in the sale of the house, and talked to the two women who made me caretaker of the Grandmother drum sitting in my music studio. We would be having our last drum circle on the Spring Equinox. What a way to say goodbye!
The spring is always a powerful energy for me. There is a lot of momentum. Ideas and inspiration begin to sprout forth and what no longer serves, the me that is moving forward, is left behind. It is bittersweet.
Co-mingling with the excitement of the journey ahead, there was a fear that I would never be able to afford a home again, because prices were rising so fast, beyond so many people’s control. So many people are choosing van life, or RV life because they don’t want to pay the money required to live in a home. There is a new culture of houseless people. We invest in wheel estate. We live tiny. Minimalistic. It is a life some people say they would never trade for a sticks and bricks house again.
I look at my beloved cat Nala curled up napping on my bed and a great sadness comes over me. She is really my neighbors cat, but he leaves for work during the week and doesn’t come home until the weekends. He asked me to look after her and I did gladly. She adopted me and hardly ever went to my neighbors home when he was there anymore. I didn’t know what would become of her. I couldn’t take her with me. She would be miserable. Here, she had two homes that were her domain and she loves being outdoors. I texted my neighbor today as well, and told him the news. My heart aches for Nala.
There is a lot to grieve. And so I imagine, like times before, the grief would dance in the same place as the joy and excitement of a new adventure. Sometimes I would relish in the passion of a new creation and other times I would cry deep, soulful, tears for what I was leaving behind.
I have crossed the threshold, the point of no return. The choice has been made and spoken aloud. My world will never be the same.
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My Bike was Taken!
September 22nd! It is the Fall Equinox, the end of summer, and my son’s 30th Birthday! I was preparing to head home and close out my nearly four month journey in my Truck Camper, with my electric bike as the tow vehicle.
What I feel I gained the most on this journey was resilience. I learned to take things as they come and not create a big drama about anything; even if those things felt big at the time.
I had a blow out, bad rim, another flat, my bike fell off the rack several times, things broke and needed fixed, the truck was in the shop twice, for minor things, and still here I was, loving the journey! Because I was going to let those things that happened, make me stronger, more solid and not rob me of my joy!
On my last bike ride, it was a lonely country road in the high desert of Idaho, riding along the snake river. I was in bliss and ironically there was a road sign that said ‘Bliss 14 miles.” I knew I wouldn’t get that far, so may as well be in bliss now! I road about 12 miles out of the small town of Glenns Ferry, where my truck and camper was parked at the Y Knot Vineyards. I got a flat tire. My first in over a thousand miles of riding.
I pulled out my handy, dandy bike pump and patch kit and went to town, only nothing was happening. I didn’t have the right adapter for the bike pump and I was stuck out here 12 miles from town. I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt stressed. There were no taxi’s or ubers around here. I didn’t want to drag a heavy bike with a flat tire along a twelve mile journey. If I got a ride, the bike would be an issue. So I decided to leave the bike behind and come back to get it.
I put the bike in a ditch. Assessing the traffic along that country road, there wasn’t much and the traffic I did see they were all speeding along, they wouldn’t notice my bike in the ditch. So I took the heavy battery, stuffed it in my backpack and started walking. I was fully prepared to walk the whole twelve miles if I had to, but I hoped I would manifest a ride, and soon.
I walked about a mile and a half and a little truck stopped right ahead on the highway. Having already put my life in God’s hands, I said thank you and went up to the window. It was a young man with his pack of cigarettes who looked like he was just off the farm. And he was. He told me he was coming from his ranch just up the road and was going to Glenns Ferry. I said thank you and jumped in.
The rancher talked about the ranch and his three son’s and how his Father wanted two promises of him before he died. One was that he could die at home with his family around him. The other was that he would keep the farm going and pass it down to the next generation. I asked him if his son’s wanted to farm and he said yes, they are all excited about inheriting the farm. When we got into town I told him I was staying out at the Y Knot Vineyards and he said “Y Knot” it is” and he drove me right up to my truck. I thanked him beyond words for his kindness and generosity and he seemed pleased he could help.
I prepared my truck camper for travel, unplugged it and drove out to get my bike. I was so grateful I didn’t have to walk. I knew exactly where I had left my bike and even took a picture of the cross streets. But when I came up on where I had put my bike, it was gone.
At first I was in denial. No! Nobody would take my bike? Who would do that? Once again, I found my self standing in that exact same spot where I got the flat, only my heart sunk ten times deeper, because it felt like all hope of seeing my bike again had just left me.
I called 911, because I didn’t know what else to do. I told them I was standing out here in the middle of nowhere and needed to report a stolen bike. They found out where I was and said the Sheriff was on another call but would be out after. So I sat in my truck and decided while waiting for the deputy Sheriff I would call my son, who is also a deputy, and wish him a happy birthday. I got his voicemail and wished him a happy birthday and told him a bit of the story of where I was at. He called back within minutes and we talked up until the Sheriff came.
I gave a report and he asked me to send him photos of the bike and the serial number. So as I was getting images from my phone to send him, the Rancher came back up in his truck, on his way home from town. I told him my bike was stolen and the Sheriff had just been here and he expressed genuine concern.
We talked a bit about what had happened and then a man on a motorcycle, that looked more like a dune buggy, rode up and asked me what part of Arizona I was from. I told him Cottonwood, and he said he was also from Arizona, staying with a friend here in Idaho until the end of October. My bike was stolen party was just beginning. I now had a sheriff, a rancher and a biker wanting to help me find my bike.
The rancher made a few calls and posted on facebook. He also offered to store the bike for me if it is recovered after I leave. The biker offered to bring the bike to me in Arizona if it was recovered by the end of October. I felt taken care of.
I went back home and posted on craigslist lost and found. I didn’t know where else to post. I put photos up and within 24 hours I got a call from a man telling me he thinks he might have my bike. He bought it from a young guy with a truck with a “Boise State” sticker on it. He only paid 125.00 for it and talked the seller down from 250.00. I was thinking, “I will give you 125.00 for that bike right now!” and went on to tell him there was a police report filed on the bike and the serial number was given. He seemed a little odd after that. I got my hopes up but the Police said it was probably a scam and I realized he was right.
Turned out he was just passing through and is now in Tennessee but he could ship the bike. When he told me he called the shipping company and they could ship it for $110, I’m thinking “that’s cheap!” So I said great, could you please give me the name and number of the shipping company and I will call them and see if I can pay them directly. He told me I couldn’t, I had to pay him. He started to get agitated with me and told me he was trying to help me out but I was putting him in a real bind because the bike is stolen property. I asked him calmly, if he could please explain to me how asking to speak to the shipping company to see if I can pay them directly was putting him in a bind, and well, the rest is history.
I spent my last two nights at the County Park RV park in Twin Falls, which was very beautiful. The weather was perfect. There was a walking trail and so I started walking again. I hadn’t been walking much because I was always on the bike.
My time in Twin Falls helped me to process the bike ripped away from me so quickly at the end of my journey, on the first day of Fall. I was in the place I was to take my last big bike journey, on a bike and walking trail that went along the Snake river canyon. But that journey would have to be another time.
I went down the metaphysical road looking for any possible understanding of what losing my bike meant. What was I suppose to learn from this. And the thought came to me “maybe its just something that happens to people and today it happened to you.!”
But I also saw the kindness and generosity in people. I had a new connection with my son that comes with both of us growing up, and I have a heart full of beautiful experiences from the journey I had just taken.
My neighbors at the Twin Falls County Park both had electric bikes and I told them about my experience. They told me they had a buddy system where they both would always have each others back. I said that was beautiful but I was flying solo!
My friend Bern said “Oh Kaleah that bike was your wings!” And yes she was right. My bike, and my truck camper, were both my wings and the journey transformed me! It helped me to realize I could deal with anything life brings. I may not like it! But I dealt with each hard lesson life brought me with courage and strength. I stayed present and just did what I needed to do.
Yes, I could do things better, in hind sight. But maybe as I put a little distance on it, I wouldn’t change a thing, because each experience, the good, the bad and the ugly were all part of the journey to show me my own resilience.
And so I go home, about 72 pounds lighter. But I have decided to buy another bike exactly like the one I had. Meet me in the next chapter!
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Harvest Host Camping in the Vineyard
As I write this post, I’m sitting up in a vineyard, far above Lake Chelan in Washington State, which is one of my favorite places to come when I was young.
Lake Chelan is a fifty mile lake , deep and blue with a road only going the first 25 miles of the lake. You can only go further by boat or float plane. At the end is a little village called Stehekin, which you can access through a tour boat called “The Lady of the Lake.” I’ve been to Stehekin many times and really love it there. But today I sit on my perch, far above the world and enjoy the silence.
I came from a campsite on the Wenatchee River, which was nice, but there was a busy highway on one side and a functioning train track on the other. Quiet it was not.
I truly love the sound of silence. I thought when I arrived, I would take my bike and go for a ride, but after driving up the mega hill to get here, I decided it would drain my battery to bike back up the hill. And without electricity, I have no way to charge it back up.
The place I am parked is the Amos Rome Vineyards in Manson, Washington, on Lake Chelan. Amos Rome Vineyards is part of the Harvest Host, RV program where members pay an annual fee and can sign up to stay at participating orchards, farms and vineyards. We are expected to buy something from their gift shop, such as a bottle of wine, in exchange for our one night stay.
Amos Rome Vineyards was the first place I stayed in the program and it will be hard to top. Such an incredible view.
But I have a few more on my journey ahead and look forward to visiting others during my year membership.
