Deciding to go Nomadic
Joshua Tree, California
It's hard to say when the desire to do this began. Maybe it was when I was 24 years old and had my first professional job out of college. Eight hours each day in a cubicle staring at a computer screen. It seemed as if my life was a series of unanswered emails, tedious documentation, and stressful phone calls. There is a strange sense of artificiality when doing work behind a computer, however meaningful that work might be.
Maybe it was witnessing my uncle slowly fade from this world - tethered to a ventilator in the VA hospital for two years - knowing how much life he had in him if only his body could cooperate.
Maybe it was seeing my husband go to the same job day after day for nine years - feeling unfulfilled but unable to leave because it wouldn't be the 'smart' thing to do. The pay was always a little too good and the fear was always a little too present.
Whatever it was, I always felt this desire to have a constantly changing horizon. An adventure everyday. I wanted to find a different version of myself in every place I went. The thought of a home cemented to the earth felt stifling.
Don't get me wrong - we tried to fit in. We tried to do what was safe. Comfortable. Expected. But the thought of working these jobs until we were sixty five (with usually only a few weeks off a year, no less) just to pay off a mortgage felt insane. Isn't there supposed to be more to life than that? I mean, we only have one. Shouldn't we pack it so full of experiences that our brains overflow with memories of a life worth living? I needed to feel alive. I wanted to honor this one life I was given.
After Nate and I got married, we knew we were at a crossroads in life. We could buy a house. That would mean, however, working indefinitely. It would mean a commitment of 40+ hours each week of our time on earth for at least the next 30 years. And for what? A house we couldn't really afford? Full of things we didn't actually need? We weren't willing to make that trade.
Frustrated under this blanket of indecision, we started to come up with crazy ideas (or what seemed crazy at the time). What if we bought some land and built a yurt? A tiny house, even. But no - that seemed too permanent. What if we did not want to live in Maine forever? We wanted more flexibility than that - at least for the time being.
Then came the idea for the converted school bus. Travel vlogs on YouTube and "before and after" conversions on Pinterest made it seem obtainable and downright romantic. We ended up doing so much research on school buses that we could have built the perfect one ourselves (not really - but it felt like it). But after months of searching with no end (and exhausted with hope and eagerness to start this life) we decided that the amount of money it would cost just to buy the bus, coupled with the amount of work it would take to make it livable, was just not the right path for us at that time.
Motorhomes began to look more and more appealing. And so it happened. After a desperation had long set in... I found the ad on Craigslist. A 2000 Winnebago Adventurer. With one slide-out and 68,000 miles. And the price was right at only $13,500. It probably helped that we were searching in the dead of winter. Sure enough, we bought it outright. And then had a semi-mental breakdown contemplating what we had just done. We are not wealthy by any means and this was the largest amount of money we had ever shelled out at once. On an RV, no less. Were we insane?
We spent that following summer working and saving every penny we made. We worked with purpose, and seeing our savings account slowly rise was incredibly rewarding. For us, every penny meant freedom.
Since then, we have not looked back. We are living a life we have only ever dreamed of; one packed with moments that take our breath away and that make us want to tear our hair out. But, hey, at least we feel alive.
So tell me, are you a little crazy like us? Sick of the monotony and need something more in your life? We want to hear your story! Tell us in the comments below.
