Life is a series of journeys, experiences and encounters.

“Are you one of those Nomad ladies?”, he asks in his Oklahoma farmland drawl as I am washing my windshield trying to reach the smattering of bugs obscuring my view. “What do you mean nomad lady?” I respond. “Well, you know, one of them ladies who lives in her van and travels all over. I saw your stickers.”

A myriad of replies sprint through my mind:

You recognize me. Would you like my autograph?

I ain’t no mad at anyone. I love people.

No, I have two homes, one in Arizona and one in Michigan.

I started this trip in Spain and now I’m passing through Oklahoma….do I tell him Spain is not a state?

I’m on a pro-life, pro-woman tour through the Midwest to get out the vote.

I chuckle and respond kindly, “I do like to travel in my Eurovan for one or two weeks, but don’t live in it full time.” “I thought I’d ask. I saw the movie.” he continues, curious about a 70-plus year-old woman, traveling solo in her van in the middle of nowhere Oklahoma. “Thanks for asking and stopping by to chat” I say as I finish pumping gas. Life is a series of journeys, experiences and encounters and cross-country road trips are like an anthology of life in the U.S.A.  

Yes, I’m on the road again, as Willie Nelson belts out another song on the radio. I have an affinity for local radio to sense the vibes as I skim across states in this vast land. As the pilot I sat next to on my flight from Malaga to Madrid told me, “I love the U.S. It’s my favorite country. I visit every two years. I love how everything is so big and there is so much space and wilderness.” Well, he has a point, it is big, diverse and has so much space and wilderness.

This trip I tuned  the radio into a sermon, Standing for Christ in a Collapsing Society; a talk show, Thankful Thursday for God – but it was only Monday; a solitary NRP station close to Kansas City; a great Classic Rock station near Springfield, Ill.; a diatribe on a Fox news channel berating  and bashing the “libbies” in this country (socialist democratic liberal elites) OUCH…nasty stuff!; Christian country music; and the latest hot tunes (none of which I recognized).

Reading excepts for Jack Kerouac ‘s 1957, On the Road, before heading out on another one-way 2500-mile journey from Michigan to Tucson, I was thankful not to be traveling Kerouac style back in the 60s. I have my faithful, sturdy Euri (2001 Volkswagen Eurovan) for transport – my little home-away-from-home. Got my road atlas, books on tape and an assortment of food and wine for sustenance till I reach the ole pueblo. 

The fall colors are teasing as I head south out of Michigan, too early for big splashes of color in Indiana and Illinois. Definitely fall scenes in the country side and small towns. I try to avoid the major east/west passages (I80, I70, I40) filled with snake forms of semi-trucks keeping the supply chain flowing east to west, west to east and through all the major cities. I prefer to cruise two or four lane roads, passing through smaller Midwest towns and bergs. No pedal to the meddle driving, just cruising and enjoying the local sights and scenery.

The state parks in most areas offer cozy camp spots, shower houses and trails for hiking and cycling. I rely on The Dyrt camping app to find camp spots when needed in sparse areas. Most campgrounds were not busy this time of year.

The Midwest and southwest drought in evident in Kansas, Oklahoma and northern New Mexico as the once teeming reservoirs sit nearly empty. Good news, as I fill up this gas guzzler once or twice a day. Gas has dropped from $4.99 last June to around $3.59. The lowest I saw was $3.35 in Oklahoma and the panhandle of Texas.

And then I hit the New Mexico state line where I am in awe of the sky, full of billowing clouds, ghost rain and monsoonal cloud dumps in the distance. I smell the rain in the desert and my Arizona casita beckons me home.

So here’s to road trips big and small and adventures – the kind you just can’t describe.