The Adventure Begins – well, sort of . . .

It was two years, ten months and 20 days ago that my Living Free odyssey began.  November 1, 2008 was basically the first day since I was born and as an adult, since I left New Jersey in 1967 to attend graduate school in Syracuse, NY, when I didn’t have a fixed, permanent residence of some kind. It was a decision that I began thinking about a few years earlier as a whimsy and as 2008 progressed I realized I had an important decision to make. Do I continue living on the 49-acre ranch I had lived on for nearly six years? Do I seek another place and prepare to make a more difficult move then the one I made moving to the ranch or do I become a “professional nomad,” a dream since I was in college some 40+ years before?

Staying on the ranch seemed like the least likely of the choices. I had all that space and the entire overhead that accompanied it. Because I ran two businesses from that location, most of the space was occupied with business equipment, furnishings and far too much dead storage. I was actually occupying the master bedroom of the house as an efficiency apartment, which, coincidently, was about the same square footage as the one-room studio apartment I moved into when I moved to Washington, DC for my Air Force assignment at Bolling Air Force Base. I’d come full circle. My current overhead, at that time I was living on the ranch, was ridiculous for one person, especially since I had downsized all my business operations and no longer had or needed any employees, all the office and production equipment and so on. I was operating a very expensive warehouse full of “stuff.”

Moving to another place also was not something that gave me warm fuzzies. The move from my mountain top roost to the ranch in early 2003 ranked among the largest moves I have ever made and moving from the ranch nearly six years later was going to be at least 150% of the 2003 move. Where would I put all this “stuff” that I no longer needed or wanted. So, I ruled out that move.

That left my third choice. I could do the BIG downsize, get rid of virtually everything except the basics and become a professional nomad, an individual with no fixed residence. I could spend my time traveling around, exploring, learning and experiencing so much of the life I had set aside over the preceding 40 years for a variety of reasons, all of which were valid and rewarding and, for the most part, enjoyable. But, at this time I had chosen to downsize my business involvements. I no longer had a spouse or family living with me and the accompanying responsibilities and obligations for their well-being and welfare. I was essentially free to do and be anything I wanted to and go anywhere I wanted to. So, that became my decision.

As I’ve related in earlier posts, this decision resulted in one of the most stressful and, in many ways, depressing periods of my life. Letting go of so much of the “stuff” of one’s past is not as easy as it may appear on the surface. I have absolutely no regrets and it’s still the best decision I’ve ever made for myself, but everything has some kind of price.

Now, it’s nearly three years later. Once I was past the major stress of going through the worst part of the downsizing and the depression of leaving a life behind and living an entirely new lifestyle that would have been very easy as a late teen or early to mid 20 something, but was very different as a mid 60-something with 40+ years of life experience, I’ve never felt freer or happier in my life. Don’t get me wrong; I had many happy and joyful times during the preceding four decades. There were happy times during my first marriage that I cherish and always will. Being the father of a wonderful, creative, positive, productive and free-spirited son was a joy during his youth and continues to be so. So, I live my current life of living free with very few regrets.

Like most humans, I seek a comfort zone. And, I fall into a comfort zone as easily as the next person. During the past three years, as I transitioned from the person I was, with a relatively high overhead, too much space and too much stuff and a place to go “home” to everyday that I chose to leave it, I simply created a new comfort zone. The new comfort zone consisted of a room with a friend in Winchester, VA (the town I had lived near for 27 years) and another room with an old Air Force buddy and a very good friend in Falls Church, VA and an office I could use with another old friend and client in Fairfax, VA. I created workstations in each of these three places and simply moved between them about 90% of the time. I had all my basic needs stationed in Winchester and Falls Church. Basically, I simply had created two new “man caves.” if you will.

My intention when I left the ranch was to jump into a 40’, diesel pusher, motor home and live on the road full-time. The rooms in the two locations and the office were simply a “temporary” situation until I was ready to hit the road. Well, there is “good news” and “bad news” in this story for me. The “good news” is that it’s a good thing that I didn’t make the move into a 40’, diesel pusher, motor home right after leaving the ranch. I would have made every major mistake a person could have made and probably ended up trapping myself in another high-overhead situation, stressed myself out more, become even more depressed and couldn’t have easily eliminated the problem due to the rapidly deteriorating economy. The “bad news” is that I allowed myself to fall into another comfort zone that slowed down my move to becoming more of the “professional nomad” I aspired to become.

And that’s where we are today. I have made a lot of progress. Last year, I traveled through 27 states and covered nearly 20,000 miles during the year on various trips. I loved every minute of being on the road and knew I needed to continue moving in that direction. I retired my beloved 1996 Cadillac Seville with 257,000 miles on it and replaced it with a 2002 Ford Focus hatchback specifically equipped to easily modify as a “toad” or a car that would be towed behind a motor home. I had been checking out different kinds of motor homes, looked at several, went to some RV shows and sat in them, laid on the beds, sort of trying them on for size. I realized that I wanted to start out with a gas-fueled motor home rather then a diesel. I also realized that I probably didn’t need that 40’ but could get by with 32 to 34 feet. As I did more and more research and exploring, I realized that even smaller was better.

Then along came August 4, 2011. My friend Caroline had passed away a couple days earlier near Sparta, NC. I was on my way to celebrate her life with her husband, my old buddy from grad school (the three of us met at Syracuse University) and other family and friends. After a quick dinner with the family in the little town of Sparta, I was on my way to their house. It was a dark night, the area is rural and despite my prior experience with deer in the rural area I lived in, a “kamikaze” deer targeted my Ford Focus hatchback. She succeeded in committing suicide and demolishing the vehicle I had purchased to be my “toad.” Without question, it was the worst auto accident of my life and had every possibility of resulting in severe injury or my death. I walked away unscathed by Divine Providence, pure luck or whatever.

So, another change in my plans was in order due to a circumstance I didn’t or couldn’t foresee. I had to acquire another vehicle. I was, essentially, back to square one. So, after a little over a month went by with other events that were on the books prior to the altercation with the deer, I finally made a decision and took the action. I looked at a variety of possibilities and scenarios. I checked out a few motor home possibilities. I looked at replacing the Ford Focus with something similar. In the final analysis, I made a compromise. I decided to acquire one vehicle that I could use as my main “ride” and to travel in with some comfort and overnight capability.

Behold, my (future) micro motor home.

 

I purchased a 1994 Ford E150 Hi-top Conversion Van with low mileage for the model year. I will be converting it into a micro motor home similar to a Class B motor home. They are more commonly called “camper vans.” While I will not use it for full-time living, I will be able to travel and overnight comfortably in the vehicle once I’ve done my conversion. It certainly will not have all the luxury and conveniences of a full-sized, commercial motor home. But, it will afford me a way to exit my current comfort zone. I’m already planning to end my, too long, stay with my friend in Winchester and my friend in Falls Church, while we’re all still on excellent terms. I’ll also visit the office in Fairfax much less frequently. I’ll be moving my base of operations to Keyser, WV with another friend who has a large home and plenty of room for me to work on the van without creating disruption of her life or drawing undue attention to what I’m doing. I wouldn’t be able to do this in the Winchester location and it would be impossible in the Falls Church location.

So, this is the beginning of the next phase of my odyssey. I’m going to document the conversion and explain my rationale for each of the changes I make to the rig. I’ll accompany it with photos. I’m not sure if I’ll use this blog or I’ll create another blog just for the adventure of converting the van. If I do, I’ll have links on this blog for those interested in following the progress. My plan is to get the major work done during this fall, take a couple short “shakedown” trips and plan to begin major travel as of January 2012, heading to warmer climates for the winter.

Perhaps, as the future rolls out, I’ll have the opportunity to meet some of the people who read this blog. That will be the greatest treat of all as I travel and explore the highways and byways of America and Canada.

Enthusiastically,

Ed