Sell All of your Belongings and GO!

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-11-26T11:17:00.000-08:00

The rain catches up to us - Wyoming

2008-11-21T09:11:00.001-08:00

Friday, August 7
Day 5
Bridges-Teton National Forest
Journal Excerpt:

"
We wimped out last night and spent the night in a Motel 6 in Rock Springs [Wyoming]. The rain caught up to us and poured on our spirits. Plus, we had our hopes up for showers at the campsite, but the water was off. Now, neither Ryan nor I is opposed to making due, using the outdoors as our bathroom, but there was no cover (trees, etc.) and a while down to the outhouses on the beach. No fun in the rain. So we left. But we did get in a swim in Green River yesterday morning. It really IS green. Freaky.

So we got spoiled last night. Showers, a bed, TV, we even ordered in pizza. And we got sloppy. Didn't even replenish our water supply! We sure are learning some lessons though. Like:
-Always refill any water containers at any opportunity.
-And remember all those things in your kitchen - you can use them out camping, too!
-Condiments are always a good thing.
-As is aluminum foil
-Oh, and here's some common sense: Don't cook or eat in your tent. If it's raining, just wait. (Maybe a little scentless food.) Somehow we overlooked that, so the tent is now airing out, hopefully!
"

Green River, Wyoming

2008-10-17T09:21:00.000-07:00

Images from Green River

See original Green River/Flaming Gorge entry:

http://selleverythingandgo.blogspot.com/2008/10/day-4-green-riverflaming-gorge.html

Traces of the nearby Flaming Gorge

My all time favorite picture of my husband, Ryan.

He looks out into the rain from under a shelter.

Sunset over Green River.

Rabbit Ears Pass

2008-10-09T13:41:00.000-07:00

The second night, but the first time of total seclusion. This is the campsite described in the previous entry about Rabbit Ears Pass:
http://selleverythingandgo.blogspot.com/2007/12/routt-national-forest-rabbit-ears-pass.html

Ryan with Keys at Rocky Mountain National Park

2008-10-08T10:52:00.000-07:00

See blog entry http://selleverythingandgo.blogspot.com/2007/06/rocky-mountain-national-park.html for the story behind this from Day 1 of our trip.

Day 4: Green River/Flaming Gorge Recreation Area

2008-10-03T09:54:00.000-07:00

Thursday

August 5
Journal Entry from Green River, Wyoming

(Drawing to Right from Journal that morning)

Silence but for the wind, the water and the birds. And all those are so soft.

We woke up in time for a breathtaking sunrise. Well, I guess technically the sun's not even up yet. But we watched the sky brighten and the clouds color above the sharp plateaus. And we biked down to the bathrooms by the river.

This is such a change in scenery from yesterday morning when we woke in the forest surrounded by trees and lush grass and flowers. After a long drive yesterday, trying to outrun the rain, we found a campground on the map in southwestern Wyoming, and figured it was worth a try. How amazing to find this! Like a scene from the southwest, withthe plateaus jutting up into the skyand the desert setting. Small shrubs and bushes crawling with jack rabbits, and tiny rodents that look like miniature squirrels with chipmunk markings.

This is beauty.

It all feels so right. The daily driving. The outdoors as our home. Camping. Cooking out. Biking around the paths, finding more beauty at every turn. Neither of us has bathed or showered since we've been on the trip, but that's not too bothersome. I've been wearing a bandana a lot anyway. Any makeup that may have been on my face is gone. I'm enjoying not having to make myself up. . . I think the very first, and maybe only step to not being so judgemental towards everyone else is to stop being judgemental of yourself. It feels great to find the beauty in myself au naturale. Not put on makeup and see that even without it, I am my own distinct, beautiful person.
"

Author's Current Note: I didn't wear makeup for at least a year after this, including for our wedding. It saddens me to report that I don't even camp without makeup these days. Maybe I need to learn from my younger self.

Simplicity with No Roots

2008-10-03T09:21:00.000-07:00

I've been re-inspired to continue this blog as my friend Russ has moved into his van (sold/got rid of all his belongings) and is preparing to GO! Please see the link to his blog and his experiences listed to the right.

I'm a home-owner with my husband, with a child who's now in elementary school, and we have a good life. But still I crave that feeling of utter freedom that comes with completely uprooting with no intention of re-rooting anytime soon!

I remember distinctly that feeling - four days into our trip after leaving Colorado. We shot across the relatively flat landscape of southern Wyoming, fleeing a storm that hovered to the east. Unshowered in a bandana and sweats, barefoot, I was passenger in the blue Pontiac that was being passed by everyone on the road, as it wouldn't go above 55. The window down, I soaked up the warmth and fresh air with such a feeling of peace as I can't begin to describe. Pure happiness.

(Photo from Green River 1999)

Routt National Forest - Rabbit Ears Pass

2007-12-27T08:30:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, August 3, 1999 *
Journal Entry
"
Fields of colors laid out on green meadows. Light purple bouquets blossom across the hills, accented by spots of tiny yellow flowers. The colors are rich in the variety of plant life, ranging from the large broadleafed orange tinted plants to the vividly green streaking wild grass. These picture perfect meadows are surrounded by tall pines and Aspens with their straight, white trunks. All of the green grass and beautiful flowers are tall and lush, waist high. A scene you'd expect to see in movies and films about the open land, and here it is at every turn.

We've done a little bit of mountain biking over the last couple days, and I've learned how different it is from street riding. Conquering those rocky, steep paths is not as difficult as I'd imagined, and much more fun! The lower gears have become my main use, as they are much easier on my knees...

We've found a beautiful, secluded campsite. And the best thing is - it's free!
"

I wrote that sitting next to the pre-dug out campfire ring (back when camp fires weren't even questioned as a camping necessity), propped up in an early version of the canvas camping chair without arms or cup holders or foot rests that are common accessories today. Ryan took a picture of me in my oversized purple rain pullover, surrounded by dark, looming evergreens soaring out of the frame. The green and gray tent with purple lining tucked between several of those trees, slightly hidden behind a smaller one. The campsite a clearing in the woods off a lonely dirt road beyond the throngs of campers huddled together at a pay-site a mile or two away. We were secluded completely for the first time. And had plenty of time to explore just how secluded we were before darkness enveloped us.

In retrospect, it's not surprising that we spent the night thoroughly spooked. We'd never camped in an unexplored, unpopulated location such as this. What seemed charmingly quaint and pretty by day, became a penetrating black night beyond the fire ring once the sun set. And with the fire out, I had no desire to leave the tent. I imagine that may have been the first of many nights when I lay with my bladder screaming at me rather than venture into the cold darkness outside the tent.

* Yes, I realize that's the same date as Monday, but I'm going with what's written in the journal! One day in, and already losing my sense of time? Silly city girl.

Rocky Mountain National Park

2007-06-09T13:50:00.000-07:00

It’s odd to think of my first experience in Rocky Mountain National Park, now that it’s such a familiar and beloved place to me; Now that I’m a local trying to escape the throngs of tourists attracted by the grandeur of the bare peaks. At the time we were the tourists. We’d never gone on a hike together; Ryan had never hiked period. We were far from the outdoorsy types we present ourselves as today. But we were ignorant enough to not know our limitations, thus had none. What we lacked in knowledge we made up for with passion.

Monday, August 3, 1999

"The road we were on climbed higher and higher up toward the bald mountain tops," I wrote in my journal in camp that night - a random green triangle on our National Parks Atlas symbolizing the campsite on the west side of Rocky Mountain National Park directed us to this destination. I was writing about the highest continuous highway in the U.S.: Trail Ridge Road.

My novice adventurist shone through as I wrote about an incident amongst a hundred other tourists, rather than the steep, glacier carved bowls and phenomenal views.

"...I grabbed my camera, placed my keys on the rail, turned to take the photo, and knocked my keys off the rail down the steep grade. They landed mockingly with a clank ten feet below. I laughed. What else to do in that situation? Ryan was not so amused as he headed to find a way down. I stayed looking down on my keys sprawled on the rock below, a marmut standing guard only a few feet away. A chipmunk scurried around on the rocks to the side. I wished I could ask the little critters to help me out.

"The comments were pretty funny, too. 'Oh, look! Someone's keys!' All in amusement, as it seemed impossible to reach them. But soon Ryan came scooting along the rocks carefully placing his feet, and got the keys. The people who'd been shocked to see him down there were suddenly enlightened, laughing."

Just a couple of city kids who knew nothing about Mother Nature with our cheap tent out to discover what this wide world of nature had to offer. The feable beginnings of two outdoors lovers.

Road Trip: Ready, set, GO!

2007-06-07T17:52:00.000-07:00

We awoke at 6 a.m. on August 2nd to the view of the drop ceiling of my old bedroom at my Dad’s house, full of anticipation for our new traveling lifestyle. I’d always hated that drop ceiling, how it reminded me of the confines of classrooms in school. And I had a flutter of excitement as I knew that it would be some time before I slept underneath any roof at all again. The eagerness spread into a smile on my face as I dragged myself off the mattress in the dimly lit room, placing my bare feet on the wooden parquet floor.

It took an excruciating 3 hours to get on the road. We couldn’t have imagined how much loading and unloading the trunk of the 1994 Pontiac Sunbird would become second nature in the coming weeks as we attempted to squeeze our belongings into the sedan that first morning. It was like a puzzle without a reference picture. We had two large plastic containers for our food and food preparation, including an old beat up skillet and loads of oatmeal; We filled a tackle box with bathroom supplies- everything from toothbrushes to water purifying tablets; Two suitcases carrying all of the clothes we’d need for the trip, as well as a couple nicer outfits for eventually interviewing when we “landed” in California; Tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, etc… It took several tries to make everything fit, as we figured out just what order everything had to go in so that the trunk would close. And then there was the back seat filled to the brim as well. Finally, like the decorative bow on an overloaded present, the bikes perched precariously on the rack attached across the trunk. Those would clank and threaten to leap off the car until we figured out the precise procedure for mounting them and bungee cording them together.

Our first destination was on the other side of Rocky Mountain National Park, where a small green triangle on our map denoted a campground. I was a bundle of nerves, still wound up with the anxiousness to leave that had been prodding me all morning. I examined the map trying to figure out how to get from Highway 74 to Highway 36 in Boulder, having little luck deciphering the tiny streets that might connect the seemingly parallel highways. We were hungry and as we pulled into the bagel shop for breakfast on Broadway, a sign jumped out at us leading to the 36. It was the first moment of relaxation thus far and felt like a good omen as we ate our breakfast, reassured as we’d jumped our first small hurdle.

Finally able to relax, we found our highway and our trip began!

Taking Stock

2007-05-30T19:22:00.000-07:00

Bikes – Check
Extra tires – Check
Slime to fill holes – Check
2 month supply of Power Bars – Check
Cel phone for emergencies – Check
Tent – Check
Sleeping Bags – Check
Any knowledge whatsoever about what we’re doing – …Not so much…

“You’ll get used to whatever bike you ride,” a salesman told us at a bike store after hearing our plan to tour. He’d done it himself. He told us about how sore he was at first, and then how he got used to it and could ride his bike for any length of time. He told us about his experiences sleeping in City Parks when he couldn’t get to a campsite, and the occasional ride from someone who’d let him throw his bike in the back of their truck for a few miles.

We’d already planned out the first few days. We’d head south from Littleton down to Sedalia and then west into the mountains that first day, reaching National Forest land where we could camp anywhere as long as we were 200 feet from the road. The plan was to stay in the National Forest as much as possible. City Park camping wasn’t appealing, but a reasonable fall-back if we had to get into town for an extended period of time.

Helmets – Check
Water bottles – Check
Healthy bodies to pump our bikes – Che- check?

I pumped into Cherry Creek, breaking the law biking on the sidewalk rather than braving the rush-hour traffic on the narrow streets. Speeding along in a high gear, I came to a stop light where I stopped, leaning to the side. Green. Wrench! My right knee cried out in rebellion against starting up in the high gear. Just above the knee cap, I can still feel the pain 8 years later. I pushed on in the lowest gear possible to work, trying to do most pumping with my left leg alone. Just a strain, I told myself. Just a little something that will be fine by the time I go home. Nothing that could possibly prevent our departure the following week.

I favored the leg all day, trying to keep the doubt at bay. That night I put ice on my knee, and tried to stay off it. Only one week until our departure date. What we’d planned on being two months on our bikes… And I couldn’t even pedal. My mind kept going back and forth- if you can’t handle this, how do you think you’re going to bike across the country? You could put it off… What if this happens while you’re on the road?

Sense of Dissapointment – Check
Determination that no way in hell it will prevent us from our trip! – CHECK!
Bike rack – Check
Return Bob – Check

Car – Check.

Do you own them, or do they own you?

2007-05-23T12:53:00.001-07:00

We were going to bicycle from Colorado to California.

We had new bikes in the $200 range. If you know how much a decent bike costs, you realize that's laughable! We got our "Bob" to trail our few belongings behind us. We already had a cheap tent and good sleeping bags. Having finished up the Spring semester of my freshman year of college, I got a job in Denver and biked to work every day while slowly selling off the sparse belongings which a twenty-one-year-old possesses.

Text books sold for the best prices. The other books I got a few cents to a few dollars for, but the change added up and was stashed away into our travel funds. We put up a flyer announcing the sale of everything in our apartment. The wall hangings, including my beloved "Blue Nude" by Picasso went in one purchase. The dining table, the couch, the coffee table, book case all sold to people in our complex. We found a pawn shop that paid a fair price for our videos, clock radio, the toaster, the blender, and other small electronics. I invited friends and family to take what they wanted, and we made many trips to the thrift store to return many of our belongings to their original home. My collection of CDs sold to a reputable used music store, except for a few exceptionally beat-up and much loved ones. After I sold those final scratched up CDs that held such meaning to me, I came home to our empty apartment and I cried. For Guns N Roses, Metallica, Peter Gabriel, Jewell, Pearl Jam... For the memories each song held, for my youth that the music symbolized. That's when I got my first glimpse of what letting go meant. What sacrificing everything you own for the freedom of travel entailed.

When I was done mourning my lost belongings (about 15 minutes later), I was cleansed and excited and no longer tied to the things which I'd been dragging around with me for years.

The materials collected for years had turned into cash for our trip. I stood in my vacant white apartment with the Bob on the floor in the middle of the living room and the bikes peaking in from the back balcony, happily dreaming of where that $1000 would take us.