Some Reflections from our First Month on the Road

Matt Torrenzano
Jul 21, 2017 · 3 min read

Wow, I can’t believe it’s Day 34. It’s been over four weeks since departing Richmond on this grand adventure. And as I sit here, in our small parcel of campsite land along the Oregon Coast, I’m surprised and encouraged that I have become comfortable with our new normal. But it wasn’t always this way. Before we started, I told Kristi that the two things that I was most concerned about were long distance driving and camping. Which….are pretty much the two core elements of a cross-country camping road trip.

Long Distance Driving

I’ve come to realize that my aversion to driving long distances was firmly rooted in haunting memories of the I-95 corridor, where traffic is a given and stress rides shotgun. Growing up, we took family road trips to the beach or up to the Northeast, but in each of these instances, the experience of the destination far outweighed the journey.

In contrast, in this extended adventure, the journey has been just as important as the destinations (which should probably be a post-it note for life in general).

Stop, relax, and just enjoy the damn ride. Stop worrying about the logistics of the destination.

Without a set schedule or major itinerary, time begins to matter less. Eight hours in front of a computer morphs into eight hours in front of a windshield — no screen saver needed. Long drives are broken up with pit stops, driver changes, and car naps. Spotify provides an endless soundtrack for the rolling hills, fields, forests, and mountains of the country. When the roads open up, any inkling of traffic-induced road rage becomes long gone.

Sleeping & Camping

I’ve become old. And probably a curmudgeon. I like my bed warm and King-sized, my bedroom dark and quiet, and my bathroom nearby and private — the exact opposite of camping. This may be rooted in the fact that I don’t sleep very well anymore and usually get up at least once a night to go to the bathroom. So naturally, I was apprehensive about the whole putting on layers of clothing and arming myself against bears just to go to the bathroom. How could I get restful sleep?!? Not to mention the natural seclusion of camping in the woods…what about the Blair Witch movie!?!

I have to thank Kristi for the support and problem-solving she’s done to help assuage my concerns. While not a hardtop tow-behind camper, the rooftop Tepui tent has provided an added sense of security from the elements as well as predators. A 3-inch foam mattress augments the thin self-inflating sleeping pads to provide a softer ground layer. And we each brought our own pillows from home. Two each. What.

What has surprised me the most, however, has been the beauty of the country and the fellow campers and hikers that appreciate it just as much. Campgrounds bring about a wide mix of culture, upbringings, and socio-economic statuses, but every single one of those people — every single one — stops in awe of a snow-covered 14,000 foot peak, or a mother grizzly, or a rainbow over a windswept prairie. There is a safety among fellow campers that I am surprised to have felt. (No, I haven’t read those camper killed stories.) There is a communal appreciation for our surroundings and an unspoken comradery that builds from it.

This road trip, and all of its peculiar moments, has become natural. Routine has set in and we’ve hit this incredible new normal.

(Disclaimer: written on a good day)

We Should Go

Live well. Love well. Travel well.

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Matt Torrenzano

Written by

We Should Go

Live well. Love well. Travel well.

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