airstream adventure

life in 150 square feet on the open road and beyond

airstream, travel, full-time RV, road trip, america.


so, we've had a few really nice comments lately about how nice it must be to be doing this airstream adventure thing. professions of jealousy and the like. i know. we're pretty grateful that we can do this. i won't pretend to be naive, and admit openly what an incredible opportunity this has been and continues to be. but in the interest of fair and accurate reporting, i have to continues to march on. life can be mundane. life can be frustrating. it can be happy one moment, and sad the next. it's surprising. joyful. disappointing. thrilling. it's not a vacation every day.

i think this is the biggest misconception about what we're doing, this living-life-on-the-road thing. and i can see why. hey folks! we're headed to the cape! big plans for new orleans! send recos for austin! we don't, however, blog so much about the stupid trailer stairs that broke. again. or the fact that two adults are working full-time jobs monday through friday, and sometimes won't even get to step outside during that time except to let the dog out. nope. i don't write much about our tiny "contortionists-only, please" bathroom. nor do i write about how 150 square feet gets cluttered up really fast. other blog titles you aren't likely to see include:

"ohh, that gassy dog! we can't catch a breath in here!"

"laundromats! live like you're in college again!"

"mystery unsavory camping neighbor who actually lives at the campground year-round!"

not that we're trying to hide any of these details. it's all part of the experience. i guess it's just more fun to talk about powdered sugar of epic proportions at cafe du monde, bluegrass street jams at country stores and the honky tonk heaven of nashville, tennessee. but that's after hours and on the weekends. the other hours of the day, we're working chumps, just like you. (unless you live a life of fabulous retirement like my mom. sheesh. the nerve of that lady!)

nope. this isn't a year-long vacation. it is, however, a different way of living; living with less "stuff" and making do with more. it's a new front and backyard every week. it's stiff bones during long rides in the truck and hefty gas bills. it's the discovery of just how varied and truly special this country can be. it's stepping out of your comfort zones and trying something new, all the time. it can be tiresome. it can be rejuvenating. it's constant togetherness. it's missing your family and friends. it's the prescription for the life-is-passing-you-by blues. it's not having enough room for pretty-girl shoes and having one table, which is both a desk and a dinner table.

as you probably could have guessed, we wouldn't trade it for anything.