Six months ago Myles and I were sitting in our basement suite both injured and both extremely unhappy. Our injuries, although very different from one another, left us feeling in very similar ways. We were too young to feel like this, we felt bed ridden. Blinded with self pity we hardly ventured outside, we barely did anything. With no plans for a future, we certainly didn’t think anything positive.
In the past two months, we have traveled across five provinces and driven through eight states. Seen everything from frogs and vultures to bear cubs and elk, climbed up mountains, swam in lakes and got lost in the forests (more times than we care to admit). We’ve been euphoric, humbled, even scared. We have stopped in the most incredible cities, and some we wish we didn’t (a wrong turn just before getting into Colorado combined with a car that wouldn’t run turned a lot of heads and left us more than a little nervous). We’ve broken Gurt, and then fixed her more times than we can count. Having drove in countless circles and made a ton of wrong turns there is one thing that is undeniable about these last two months: we have never felt so alive. Our once overwhelmingly average lives full of mundane days has since been replaced with a life full of unknown and packed with endless excitement . To some it may be scary not knowing where they will sleep, let alone what city they will sleep in but that’s the kind of adventure we live for.
This life had virtually no planning. We talked about doing this, we searched for a van but never had any true beliefs that we would actually take the plunge to live like this. We are officially two months in and I can confidently say that my life is exactly as I want it to be. It’s cramped, it’s dirty and it’s sweaty (heavy on the sweaty). It’s adventurous, it’s ever changing and absolutely magical. We wouldn’t change it for the world.