Attention readers:

This is it. Last call. This is the final Sprinter Life blog post.

For almost 6 years this blog has been a running diary of our life on the road. There are a lot of great memories and stories here. And this post is the final punctuation mark.

We’re moving on to a new chapter, and a NEW BLOG!

Going forward, Stevie will continue writing about our adventures at NomadlyInLove.com

As of the writing of this post, Nomadly In Love has already been live for a couple weeks, and we’ve already seen a few questions rolling in. Let’s just address a few of them here before moving on.

• Why start a new blog? We don’t own the Sprinter anymore, (remember here). So there’s that. But really, Stevie has a bigger vision. Sprinter Life started out as just a way to update friends and family while we were on our Pan-American ‘trip,’ but as you know, that trip turned into a full-time lifestyle, (remember here). The new blog will continue to update you all on our travels, plus it has all of our Sprinter Life archives, but it will also include more of Stevie’s essays, road-recipes, and a place to officially “Ask Stevie” questions since she’s been answering them by email for years anyway. Basically, it’s Sprinter Life on steroids with kind of a girly name.

• Will I still get the email? Yes, if you are signed up to receive Sprinter Life by email, then you should continue to get emails through Nomadly In Love.

• Are you done traveling? Um, no. Not even close. Since returning from South America we bought an RV, (remember here), and we’ve been on the road traveling through North America, chasing 75 degrees.

• What are you planning to do about Soleil? My current plan is to just keep feeding her. Wait, what was the question?

• What about when Soleil’s old enough for school? Oh, that. We’re planning to road-school her. Ask Stevie about it on the new site, click here.

• Aren’t you worried about Soleil not having friends or a home? Wait a sec… why are most of these questions about Soleil? I feel like Daddy is the only friend Sol needs. She seems to be doing pretty well in the friends department anyway, (remember here).

• What are your future plans? Now we’re getting somewhere. I’m writing this post from Squamish, Canada. We’ll be here another couple weeks before starting our migration south. We’ll spend a month climbing in Maple Canyon, then we’ll store the RV and head back south for the cold season. We’ll do a quick tour of duty in Baja to catch the early season surf swell, then we’ll fly back to Mendoza, Argentina to climb, drink Malbec, and look cool.  In December, we’ll be celebrating Stevie’s 40th birthday in Mexico City, and then it’s back to Los Angeles for the holidays. After that, you’ll just have to wait and see. (Read: We have no idea. Or rather, we have 100 ideas and don’t know which one will grow legs).

It’s been a good run, folks. Thanks for making Sprinter Life so fun to share. The journey continues, so head over to Nomadly In Love and follow the adventure.

Vamonos!  

-TREE

But, I couldn’t help myself. Sometimes kids just say the darndest things…to their grandma.

So here’s what happened:

Sol went pee and then  jumped off the toilet and ran away, so I chased after her saying that she had to wipe. Tree overheard me, and took this as a golden opportunity to say his favorite Spanish word over and over again: “Va-hee-na! va-hee-na! Te tienes que secar la va-hee-naaaa!” (Editor’s note: it’s actually spelled ‘vagina,’ just like in English, but pronounced vaheena.)

Now, Sol doesn’t like to be told what to do with her vaheena by someone who doesn’t even have a vaheena.

Totally understandable.

“No Dada! You no have a vaheena. You have a penis!”

If it ended here, I probably wouldn’t be sharing this post, since this kind of episode plays out almost daily at our house. What made it all “next level” was Noni here visiting.

After setting her dad straight on the limits of power vested in his anatomy, Sol waltzed into the kitchen and asked:

“Noni?”

“Yes, my little one?”

“Do you like penis?”

Yup, that happened. Soleil asked GRANDMA if she likes penis. OH. MY. GOD.

“Uhhh……..”

I could tell Noni was torn. At this point, I really wanted to help her out but, honestly, I didn’t know what to say. Should we tell Soleil the truth? Yeah, kid, how do you think you got here? Or should we lie? Heaven’s no! Noni has never and WOULD NEVER like penis in her pure and saintly life! 

Fortunately Soleil jumped in with her response before Noni or I–or god forbid Tree–had a chance to reply.

“I don’t like penis, Noni. I like va-heeeeee-na.”

“Well, that’s good dear,” said Noni.

“And let’s keep it that way!” yelled Tree.

Ahhh, good times.

Anyhow, onto other subjects. What could I possibly tell you of interest after all that?

Oh, I know. I SENT THE MOTHERSHIP!! It’s “the classic” 11b route at Area 51 by Mt. Hood. And it was my very first time ever leading 11b. I’m not going to lie, I was a little scared because I don’t have a lot of practice leading, but that’s my new objective this summer: lead, lead, lead.

Unfortunately I don’t have a picture of sending Mothership since Tree was obviously belaying me at the time, so we took this after-shot instead.

What’s more impressive? My big guns or Mt. Hood?

Here’s a shot of  Tree firing up Death Star, 12c, Area 51 (don’t worry, folks, Walter was belaying, I was on kid duty. The climb to the right of him is the fabulous Mothership.

Wonder Wren and Super Sol, best of buddies!

Not that Noni ever needs a reason to come visit, but this time she came with a very important mission to accomplish: Get Soleil through her first 3 day 2 night stretch ever without mom and dad.

Tree and I had a conference to attend in Park City, Utah, so Noni arrived a week early with a car FULL of toys.  Clearly not her first rodeo. Within five minutes of arrival, the RV was filled with little pink plastic shit that hurts to step on and will kill a slide-out in 2 seconds flat (read: I hate little pink plastic shit). But Noni always packs out what she packs in, so I’ve learned to oblige her and Soleil.  Those two just have too much fun together.

Because of our lifestyle, Sol and Tree and I rarely spend time apart. In fact, I’ve never spent more than a few hours away from Sol since the day she was born, and sometimes she freaks out if I even step out of her sight. It’s gotten so bad at times that we’ve taught her to practice a little mantra to reassure herself: “I don’t have to cry, mommy and daddy always come back.”

As it turned out, only a few tears were shed, all by me during the flight home. The Captain’s voice crackled over the loud speaker and said a “warning light” had come on, which to any reasonable person means “you are about to die and your child will grow up scarred and abandoned.”  Tree did his best to console me, probably because the other passengers don’t like it when someone is crying kind of loud and saying things like, “this is what happens before the plane crashes.”

Truthfully, I kind of knew that I would be the weakest link in this experiment. Seriously, I got it bad for my kid. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I miss her so much I have to get up just to smell her sweaty little head and give her another kiss.

Sol, on the other hand, didn’t cry at all, which really surprised me, until I saw this:

Noni’s plan included eating popsicles, making forts, playing with puppets, watching Caillou, drawing, play-doh, balloons!

They even got a pedicure.

I don’t think she missed us much at all.

Hmmmm, what do you think?

We’re out of Hood River now and heading north to Canada where we’ll be spending the summer in Squamish.

Before we left, Walter swung by and gave us the best going-away present ever: a portable hang board to do climbing workouts on the road. So rad! He even included some anchors for me to practice clipping and cleaning. Watch out climbing world! I’m hanging with the big boys!

Thank you, Walter!!!

Lastly, here’s a picture of the biggest dandelion I have ever seen.

I wish you all a great weekend……

We just spent a few days parked at the Deschutes river, which was great, except that we were supposed to  raft down river for three days with some good friends. Unfortunately we all got sick, like dominoes–first Sol, then me, and Tree. But it’s hard to complain without sounding like a child who’s whining that there’s no cherry on top of his sundae. After all, sick or not, we did just spend a few days on the Deschutes.

The Deschutes is a special river to both me and Tree, for different reasons.  Eight years ago, Tree took me down the Deschutes for three days with Kiki. It was Kiki’s and my first river trip, ever. I absolutely LOVED it. I was a city girl gone wild. A year later, Tree took me down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon for 3 wks, and that trip changed my perspective in a monumental way.  In fact, it was immediately after that trip that Tree and I moved into the van and started this nomadic life. But it all started with the good ole Deschutes. Kiki, however, was none to impressed, evidenced by the photo below. At one point, she actually tried to jump out of the boat and swim to shore. She was a little slower adapting to life outdoors–it’s hard when you’re black and furry and stickers get stuck in your paws–but she came around, eventually.

Unlike me, Tree grew up on the river. His dad used to own a rafting company called White Horse that took private groups down the Deschutes all summer long.

From around eight to sixteen years old, Tree and his brother worked for their dad. Their job was to guide the support raft that was loaded with kitchen supplies, tents, and dry-bags to camp, and set everything up before the clients arrived. Thinking of those two brothers, doubled up on the oars, scrawny and strong the way growing boys are, pushing through rapids as fast as they could together in the hot summer sun, makes my heart smile.  These days Pa probably would’ve been arrested for child endangerment, or at the very least labeled an organic, free-range chicken. Wait, what??? I mean, parent. Free-range PARENT.  We can’t label our food if it’s made with GMOs, but other parents, no problem.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Tree’s Uncle Mick would also take the boys to the Deschutes river to kayak. Who knows how many days Tree surfed right here, on this same wave at Surf City, thirty years ago.

And, of course, kayaking led Tree to the JR World Championships and Olympic Development team, and then to starting Outdoorplay. It’s crazy to think how fertile some experiences are. A whole life can grow out them.

Which is why we were so excited to bring Soleil here. This short trip was her first of many to come.

And although we didn’t get to float down river with her in a raft, she still got to play at the shore…

And sit in Daddy’s boat….

And make sand castles with mama…..

And get good and dirty…

And see this magnificent butterfly!

The funny thing is, Sol was terrified of the ‘mariposa.’ And, yet, earlier, we started walking down a trail surrounded by tall grass, and a snake darted out and squiggled past us. I screamed to high heaven and immediately made us turn around, but Sol just whined because she wanted to keep going. “No pasa nada, Mama.”

But a butterfly, oh no.

I guess the butterfly got lucky. Tree always says that a bug’s worst nightmare is a 2 year old. She routinely picks up worms, beetles, and grasshoppers–any bug, really–and carries it around like it’s her best  friend:“Hola bicho! Tienes hambre? Quieres comida? Tu eres muy guapo, bicho!” And, then, without fail, I hear her start to cry, “uh-oh, mi bicho esta muerto.”  As if she’s not the one that squeezed the life out of it.

If you look carefully, you can see the butterfly flying while Soleil holds her her shovel out in terror, “No mariposa! NO!” She said it was trying “to get her.”  Because that’s what butterflies do. They get people.

The good news is that we have another 3 day Deschutes raft trip planned at the end of August, this time with Pa and Nana. So maybe it all worked out for the best. Now Pa gets to be there on Soleil’s first descent down the Deschutes, which I know he’s real excited about. And, looks like Soleil is, too.

It’s not a bad question. Given that we’re always on the move, and that Soleil is an only child, I can understand why people worry. Truthfully, we worry. Out of all the questions we get, this topic has probably garnered more conversations between Tree and me than all the others put together.

Usually the questions come around five minutes after we’ve explained to someone for the first time that we don’t have a fixed home, that we’re always traveling. Before we had Sol, the most common question was how we made money. And went the bathroom. But now that we have an RV and a little person aboard, people want to know much more.  Presumably, they want to know if a couple dirtbags traveling in an old motorhome can responsibly take care of a child.

What about her doctor appointments? How does she get her vaccines? What about her education? Wait a minute, how will she ever have FRIENDS?!

Look how lonely she looks. Cruel parents. 

I don’t take offense to the questions because I know 99% of the time, they come from a good place. People are concerend for Soleil’s welfare, how could I be upset about that? And I understand that our lifestyle is, quite literally, extra-ordinary. Most people don’t know many other families living in vehicles intent on driving around the world, so there’s little personal reference beyond us. We’re kind of a freaky experiment.  (Yet, as much as I’d like to say we’re like Lewis and Clark, braving a new frontier, we’re not alone. Check out Bumfuzzle, Bodeswell, A2Z, Advodna, and other traveling families I’m not thinking of right now).

Yet, so far, Soleil makes friends despite our suspect transience.

Granted, we make an effort.

Take these girls we met in Yosemite, Sophia and Cassidy. They were camped just a couple sites down, so Soleil and I invited them to come jump in puddles with us. I mentioned that they should ask their parents first, and for some reason, I assumed that these 5 and 7 year old girls would do just that. Whoops.

Sometimes she meets kids while we’re out climbing, which makes her day go from good to GREAT.

Here she is reading a story to future crusher Theo, pro-climber Beth Rodden’s adorable boy. I like to think these two will be climbing partners some day.

We almost always meet kids at the park.

But, more than anything, she bonds with our friends’ kids. It seems so many of our friends got a late start in life, too–Peter Pan syndrome?–so Soleil has a gaggle of ‘cousins’ (real and extended) to keep up with.

Like the McGuire gang in Mammoth…

And the Lorenzo boys in Vegas….

And the Giddens girls in Kernville….

Okay, the below photo may be one of my favorite pictures of all time. It’s frickin’ hilarious.  I can just picture these three girls giggling over it in 20, 40, 60+ years from now.

There’s no doubt that it’s not as easy for Sol to socialize with kids her age as it would be if she went to school every day, or if we lived in a neighborhood teeming with little people. But there’s always a sacrifice with every choice we make in life.  When Tree and I weigh what she gains with our lifestyle against what she loses, we feel good about our choice to raise her on the road.

Besides, with all the bullying, low performance, and high peer pressure these days, I’m not convinced that school, as it’s currently designed, is the best way for children to learn or be socialized anyway. The idea of making my child sit in a chair from 8-3, next to fifty of her closest ‘friends,’ to learn by rote, with only about an hour of free-time to eat lunch and play, doesn’t sound like a winning equation to me. And I loved school. But I had the privilege of going to a VERY small private school for most of my education–one that we couldn’t afford for Soleil anyway. These days it seems we treat education like factory farming: pack in as many kids as possible, cut costs at the expense of quality and humanity, and churn out a product that looks okay on the outside but is not as healthy or wholesome as it should be. Our children and teachers–and, maybe even our farm animals–deserve a system that’s more, I don’t know, ...Finnish. Okay, enough for now. (Clearly, I’m going to have to devote a whole essay to this subject.)

One thing Soleil will learn as a nomad is that to make and maintain friendships, she’ll have to extend herself. And, of course we’ll have to facilitate that.. But don’t we all? If we want to have a meaningful–and not forced or merely circumstantial–relationship with anyone or anything, even a plant, we need to nurture it, consciously and deliberately.

Just look at her nurture, Pepe. She’s a natural!

And, besides, if she were to spend all day penned up at school, what relationship to the world would she actually be developing? How to sit still and take tests? How to ‘fit in’ to a weird social hierarchy that values popularity over good character? Oh god, someone stop me! Anyhoo, the point is…

I’d rather her be outside, running and climbing and jumping in mud puddles, exploring the big wide world and testing her limits–learning how to be happy and at home with herself.

Yet the two valleys differ greatly in two respects:

1) There’s no deer in Cochamo (as a N. American, I thought a forest without Bambi was super weird)

2) Unlike the fully-loaded (hot water, electricity, shops) and easily accessible Yosemite, Cochamo is so remote  you have to hike in 10k with your pack just to get to the one refugio/camping area–without electricity.

Normally Tree and I prefer the lesser-known treasures like Cochamo and Piedra Parada, Argentina, but I have to say, the National Park Service does an amazing job in Yosemite.  Four million people visit each year, and somehow they keep the grounds pristine, the bears wild, and all the tourists from around the world in a blissed out state of radness. Seriously, people are remarkably friendly in Yosemite–the whole vibe is just GOOD–and I think it’s because everyone is beyond STOKED to be there.

And we, of course, were no different. Even when it started dumping snow on us a few days into our 3wk stay, we kept telling ourselves, “But we’re in Yosemite!”

Soleil wasn’t as easily assuaged. This was her very first time in snow, and I was so excited! I bundled her up, grabbed the camera, and shepherded us outside for the big ‘snow day’ photo-opp. For the first 5 minutes, she loved it! But after we built a little snowman, the whole thing fell apart. “FRIO! FRIO! TENGO FRIO!” [COLD! COLD! I’M COLD!] She started screaming, then crying, then sobbing. I rushed her back inside and warmed her up, but she was hysterical. Finally, the only way to get her to calm down was to threaten her with putting her back out in the snow.  It worked so well, in fact, that we kept saying it for the next 2 wks, even though it was a balmy 70 degrees the rest of the time.

“Be good Soleil or we’ll make you play in the snow!”

Aside from the snow torture, Soleil had an amazing time. We all did. Again, how can you not? It’s YOSEMITE!

There was a lot of climbing involved for everyone.  Tree and I must have spotted Soleil up both of these boulders at least ten times each.

Soleil climbing the boulder at Mirror Lake

Soleil’s boulder at Curry Village

And once Ari and Ramiro, our good friends from Mendoza, Argentina showed up, Sol recruited them to spot her, too.

But, already showing good climbing etiquette, Soleil was quick to return the favor.

Soleil spotting Mama on Kevin’s Traverse

Soleil helping clean my project

About a week after arriving to Yosemite, I realized something incredible: I was no longer in pain. After 3 months of pinched nerve/disc bulging hell, it was finally over. The 4 wks of physical therapy I did in Bishop really paid off. I’m so happy.

And, to celebrate, I climbed! When I first tried this problem, I sucked. Badly. I couldn’t even make it across the traverse, let alone the crux and then the final push over the mantle.

The crux move on Kevin’s Traverse- the longest, pumpiest v0 ever!

Shaking out before the mantle and then THE SEND!

But, with Tree’s coaching and lots of training, I sent that bastard on the last day we were in Yosemite.

Damn that feels good.

Aside from bouldering with Sol and me, Tree had a few great climbing days with our good friend Amanto, too. Yosemite is Tree’s favorite place on Earth, well…along with the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

After years of being together and not being a climber, I’m really happy that I finally understand the pure joy he gets from “humping rocks,” as I used to quip back when I was just a jealous mistress.

Life is so much better now that we’re climbing-partners-in-crime.

The highlight of Soleil’s time, though, was seeing Ari again. Ari used to be Sol’s niñera (nanny) from 8 months to 2 years old, off and on, in Argentina. I was nervous that Sol wouldn’t remember her, or connect the way she did before, but Ari wasn’t hesitant at all. She picked Sol up, swung her around, and it was instantaneous love just like before.

I think some people just have magic together. I’ve felt that way before with certain people, most notably with Tree, of course. It was as if I knew him before I knew him, and I think Sol and Ari have that same rare affinity for each other. If I believed in past lives, I’d say these two have shared a few together before.

Even though Soleil refers to Ari as “Mi Ari,” I actually consider her a really good friend of mine, too.

Photo compliments of Dakota from TraipsingAbout.com

Ari and Ramiro have been visiting California for the past 2.5 months, with just 2 wks left to go. If you’re friends with us on Facebook, you’ve probably read at least one of my “CALLING ALL CARS” posts to help find them short home-stays along their way. So many friends, and friends of friends, in our community have stepped up or offered to help in some way. I have been blown away by “the kindness of strangers” expressed more as a living culture than just as a random one-time gesture. Time and time again, I see the goodness in people. 

Thank you everyone who has contributed to their incredible experience here in the States, but a special thanks to those that have opened their homes: Benny Tadeo, Scott and  Elizabeth McGuire, Mayra Padilla, Amanto Marcotulli, Shaun Galanos, Shannon Petrello, and Sean and Sabrina Vierling.

And thank you to Ari and Ramiro for coming to Yosemite and sharing so many special moments with us! You are BOTH such stellar people. We are grateful to have you in our circle. Buenas Ondas!

Incidentally, both Ari and Ramiro climbed (and well!) for the first time in Yosemite. Not a bad place to kick off your tick list. 

Just before our time was up in Yosemite, we finally got to meet some fellow nomad friends in person. It’s always nice to find out that your virtual friends are as cool in real life as they are online.

Meet Chelsea and Dakota (far right) from Traipsing About.  They not only travel full-time in their converted Sprinter van and write a great blog (sound familiar?), they can also boast a recent 4k mile bike ride across the United States. WTF, right?  I like to think we inspired their greatness

Dakota is responsible for that amazing rainbow shot of Ari and me in front of Vernal Falls. Thanks Dakota! And thanks for carrying my baby back down from Vernal Falls.  Holy smokes, those were a lot of steps. Either I’m out of shape, or Soleil gained a lot of weight. My butt still hurts.

I think Tree’s favorite moment in Yosemite happened our first full day there, which happened to be his birthday–April 18th, 2015. It’s important to mark the date, because I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a historic day in Daddy and Soleil’s future.

After having spent the day climbing with Amanto, we all went to El Cap meadow to admire The Captain and share a bottle of wine. Somewhere in the middle of the festivities, Tree started teaching us about the features of El Capitan: The Texas Flake, The Boot, Dolt Tower, etc..  Soleil listened dutifully, and then said:

“Yo quiero subir El Capitan.” [Translation: I want to climb The Captain]

Stunned with pride, Tree was quiet for a second before replying,“Okay. Tu puedes!” [Okay. YOU CAN!]

Not one to procrastinate, Soleil stood up and  said “VAMOS!” [LET’S GO!] as she marched towards El Cap. 

For me, aside from sending my boulder project and hanging out around campfires with great company, I got to climb TWICE with, or maybe just in the same area, as my climbing hero: Beth Rodden. By the time I started climbing a year and a half ago and first heard of Beth Rodden, Soleil was 1yr old, and (my friend) Beth was pregnant with her first child, “Bebe Theo” (Soleil’s friend). Sure, Beth had already established herself as a living legend in the climbing world with numerous first woman ascents and feats like Meltdown (5.14c), but what I admired most about her was her courage to do what many women in the climbing world, or heck, what many successful athletes or career women in general, are afraid to do: become a mom. Since then, she’s published a series called Climbing With Kids on her blog that continues to inspire and remind me (and Tree) that being a good parent and expressing your passion are NOT mutually exclusive; on the contrary, they work hand in hand. Anyhow, Beth, her husband Randy, and baby Theo were super cool, down-to-earth, and fun to hang out with. I hope our paths cross on the family climbing circuit again.

Sadly, this is not a picture of Beth Rodden. I was just too shy to bust out the camera, so this badass climber will have to do until the next time my new BFF and I get to “climb with the kids.”

I love small towns, especially old ones with incredible vistas and a western flair. If we didn’t always get the itch to leave, or think it might become a dried up ghost town, we might consider settling down here.

But before I get into the sad and scary but super interesting and maybe hopeful stuff, let me quickly catch you up on daily life.  Really, it’s been a great month.  Lot’s of good things  happened…

…like a big Easter party at Keogh Campground and Hot Springs with our good friends, Scott and Elizabeth McGuire, and their three awesome kids, Owen, Esha, and June.

This was the first year Soleil could really enjoy the whole Easter Bunny production.  We dyed eggs, hunted them , and ate lots of chocolate–all the more fun because she did it with a bunch of other little rascals.  Thanks for the great memories Scott and Elizabeth, Mark and Sarah, and the rest of our new friends.

Charge: Criminal Cuteness  

Verdict: Guilty

And we spent lots of time outside, exploring rocks and rotting wood, just getting dirty. (On a side note, Soleil is almost half way through her 100 days in the wild, and it’s still only springtime).

And, of course, we climbed.  We hit up the Happy Boulders, the Buttermilks, the Dreamers, and the Catacombs, all of which were absolutely gorgeous, and good training for our upcoming Yosemite adventures.

Sol and I went on a bunch of nature walks, too. I got a pamphlet that identified and explained the local flora,  both its edible and medicinal uses, but Sol was less interested in foraging than throwing rocks and sticks into ponds and streams.

Too bad, because I really wanted to eat some ephedra (nature’s speed) and be extra productive. I could have cleaned the house, done next year’s taxes, researched dark matter….

…or at least invented a baby toupee for severe cases of “stroller head.”  Alas, the world will have to wait.

Seriously, do you see that bald spot? Let’s just hope it fills in before her first date.

How could someone not love this town? Even the dump has a scenic backdrop. Being such a small town, Bishop doesn’t have a roadside recycling program, which meant I had to sort stinky trash and drive to the transfer station.  A minor pain in the ass, but it makes me wonder how much waste across the U.S is not being recycled due to inconvenience. I know people in L.A who don’t recycle, and it couldn’t get any easier there.

So here comes the sad and scary but super interesting and maybe hopeful stuff….

Keeping our promise to be good tourists in our own country, we complimented our nature adventures with a couple cultural ones, too.  We went to the Paiute Center and the Law’s Train Museum, which gave us a decent history of the area, and a possible glimpse into the future.

The Native Paiute, who call themselves Nuumu, which means ‘people’ in their language,  lived as nomadic, hunters and gatherers in the Owens Valley for thousands of years. They ate deer, fish, and rabbits; ground plants, seeds, and grasses; and, a pinyon nut that they roasted and ate whole, or ground into a flour to make mush.

I took a ton of photos of headdresses, beadwork, ‘gambling’ bones, rabbit pelts, and winter shelters (the rest of the year they slept under the stars), but I will spare you my enthusiasm and focus on the most salient point: they lived sustainably, and we do not. 

I don’t mean to glorify the indigenous. Tree and I visited enough ruins–Palenque in Mexico, Tikal in Guatemala, Copan in Honduras, and the Maoi on Easter Island–to know that many traditional peoples have overused their land and driven themselves to extinction.

But hunting and gathering societies don’t usually fall into that category; characteristically more egalitarian and always nomadic, they tend not to exploit land, animals or themselves to morbid extremes.  Since they’re always chasing their food supply, and they don’t use beasts of burden, they only produce/own what they need and can carry on their backs–and, yes, that goes children, too. They space out child rearing by approximately 4 years to keep tribal units light and fast. Consequently, as the story goes, since they have a lot less wants and needs than we do, they have much more leisure time to socialize, tell stories, gamble (without money), smoke herb, and enjoy life.

Obviously, modern humans have little in common with our forebears, right?

But guess what. For 99% of human beings’ stay on Earth, we have exclusively been hunters and gatherers. On a relative time scale, agricultural societies have existed only briefly, and urban societies even more briefly. So although we feel so far removed from the hunter and gatherer lifestyle, we might be better designed for it than the one we  live today. If you don’t believe me, look up mental health stats in the U.S: 25% of adults have a mental disorder, with escalating rates of anxiety and depression; 11% of children diagnosed with ADHD. In fact, a recent study suggests that ADHD isn’t a disorder as much it’s an anachronistic strength; the condition would be a boon if we were still hunters and gatherers. 

 Here’s Soleil climbing sacred petroglyphs. Just kidding. I’m not an A-hole. They were only decorations.

Richard Nelson, an esteemed anthropologist, talks about the disorientation experienced from having lost our totemic selves, the wild part within us that identifies with the natural world: “Probably no society has been so deeply alienated as ours from the community of nature, has viewed the natural world from a greater distance of mind, has lapsed to a murkier comprehension of its connections with the sustaining environment. Because of this, we are greatly disadvantaged in our efforts to understand the basic human affinity for nonhuman life.” 

The result has been akin to a widespread identity crisis; as a society, we don’t really understand who we are or how to live in a way that honors our needs. We don’t realize how much we need to forge deep connections with wild nature to maintain a healthy balance on both a personal and planetary level. If we did, we wouldn’t need Xanax just to get through the day. We wouldn’t consume resources at cancerous rates, “chopping off the limb on which we’re perched.” We wouldn’t spend most of our time in little boxes, driving little boxes, working in little boxes to make money for big corporate boxes that make mental boxes that we’re stuffed in to, ironically, survive. Clearly, we’ve lost our f’n minds.

“We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them” Einstein

If we want to live more sustainably, we first need to change the way we think. Maybe by looking back at societies that lived in harmony with mother nature, we can apply the same principles as well.

I saw three exhibits at the Paiute Center that really stood out to me regarding the contrast between Nuumu cultural ethos and our own.

Exhibit 1:  SUSTAINABILITY- Bow and Arrow

Rather than chop down trees to make tools like we would do, the Nuumu hacked a rectangle into the bark, waited a few days for the cut-out to die, and then pulled that piece out. This method of harvesting wood allowed the the tree to survive. Everyone wins.

Exhibit 2:  INTERCONNECTIVITY- Baskets, or Pasukitu (the below description was on a plaque by the exhibit)

“Baskets (pasukitu) are a central part of life for Nuumu.  From the beginning of time we have been weaving pasukitu. Some of the specialized pasukitu we weave can be used for:

• carrying our children
• cooking pine nuts
• storing water
• beating seeds from native grasses
• winnowing shells from seeds and nuts
• catching fish
• and a hundred other uses

In addition to their functionality and beauty, pasukitu are an enduring symbol of life for Nuumu. The shape represents the earth, the womb, and the toni. Each fiber is interwoven with many other fibers, just as our relationships intertwine with those around us; there is great strength in those connections.  It may take an entire lifetime to create a perfect basket, but there are many opportunities to practice along the way.

 Exhibit 3: WORK WITHIN THE BOUNDS OF NATURE- Irrigation

Each spring the Nuumu elected a Tuvaiju, or Head Irrigator.  The start of irrigation was declared by the Tuvaiju and approved by tribe members.  Then, around 25 men would help the Tuvaiju build a dam out of sticks, rocks, and brush, and dig ditches into the fields to irrigate native plants that were staples in the Nuumu diet. Since the water was being diverted into the fields, they easily caught fish in the shallow creek beds, most of which they dried out for consumption throughout the year. At harvest, the dam would be destroyed. Each year the Nuumu rotated the section of  land irrigated to protect soil fertility.

So, where are the Nuumu now?  Well kids, the Nuumu I’ve just described no longer exist.  Like almost every other hunter and gatherer society, they were forcibly made to conform to agricultural and industrial society. The Nuumu today live on the rez and battle beasts like disenfranchisement, poverty and alcoholism while fighting to preserve their tribal identity and hobbled culture.

Yup, we totally ruined their way of life.  Here’s what happened…

Around 1830, the cattle ranchers started showing up in the Owens River Valley. As time went on, the cattle were destroying the plants and grasses eaten by the Nuumu, so the Nuumu used rocks and bows and arrows to push the cowboys back. But that only lasted a few years until the ranchers came back with an army, and together they killed enough Nuumu to quiet their revolt. Once the ‘indians’ were subdued, the settlers came, followed by the gold miners, which of course led to the construction of the Southern Pacific railway.

By the turn of the century, Bishop, California was an established agricultural land and a booming western town.

But just around 300 miles south, there was another small town expanding at a rapid rate: my very own hometown of Los Angeles, California.

In 1904, the chief engineer for the Los Angeles Department of Water and Power, William Mulholland, visited the Owens Valley and saw the river as a potential source of water for his growing city.  A bond issue for the construction of a gravity-flow aqueduct from the Owens Valley to the San Fernando Valley (233 miles) was quickly obtained, and the Los Angeles aqueduct was completed in 1913.  By 1932, the city of Los Angeles had bought out 85% of all private property in the Owens Valley to secure the watershed–and everyone that had been on the land was displaced, except the Nuumu, who were still scattered across the DWP’s land, much to their frustration.

To deal with what it referred to as “The Indian Problem,” the DWP negotiated a shady deal with the U.S. government. Long story short, the Owens Valley ‘indians’ went from having 67k acres of land in trust to being ‘consolidated’ on 1.391 acres. Even though the 1937 Land Exchange Act (rape) specified that water rights were to be exchanged along with the lands, the LA City Charter would not permit sale or trade of its water rights without the approval of two-thirds of city voters. Needless to say, that’s never happened. Today, these water rights are a central issue of negotiations between the Bishop, Big Pine, and Lone Pine Tribes and the city of Los Angeles.

So where are we today with all this?

In a little more than 150 years since Bishop was established, and a little over 100 years since the aqueduct was built, we are facing a national crisis undoubtedly precipitated by this building snowball of exploitation.

You’d have to be living under a rock to not know that California has been in a severe drought for the past 4 years. As of April 1st, this years snowpack in the Sierra Nevadas was the lowest it’s ever been at a mere 6%, following multiple years of sub-level snowfall.  Given that California only has enough water in storage to last the next 12-18 months, Governor Brown has mandated a 25% decrease in water usage, which many cities are contesting.

In Bishop, the agriculture industry has been gone a long time.  All that’s left are some alfalfa fields and cattle. The marsh land is dried up. I overheard some locals outside the hot springs talking about how they’re running out of well water, how their land is indefensible against fire, how old Dan’s hill lit up again but this time they couldn’t save the house, and now the insurance company won’t pay out….

Meanwhile, thanks to modern advancements in irrigation, Los Angeles has grown into the 2nd largest city in the United States, with a sprawling population of nearly 4 million people. California is home to 38 million people, and is the largest agricultural producer in the United States. Farmers can’t water their crops, most of which shouldn’t be grown in a desert to begin with (almonds and rice, really?), yet we’re still watering the golf courses.

As I was walking around the Law’s museum, which is laid out like an old ghost town, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was more a glimpse into the future than the past.

What’s going to happen when the water runs out? Will Bishop be totally uninhabitable, drained completely dry? Where will all the people in the monstrous city of Los Angeles go to? What’s going to happen to our nation’s food supply? How will any of us afford to eat?

 And the snowball is just beginning.

Before I had Soleil, I used to secretly wish for a plague to wipe out the human race.  I know, that’s not very nice of me, but I argued that humans aren’t very nice. Seriously, ask any other species (except dogs, we bred them to like us), and they will tell you that we are selfish douche bags. 

But now, after having held my baby in my arms and been blown away by the natural goodness in her, I realize we’re not all bad. Maybe, we’ve just gone astray. And, maybe if we consciously rewild our psyches, we can find our rightful place in nature again:

“Nuumu believe that we are a necessary part of a healthy ecosystem. Native people have been stewards of the land for thousands of the years, and part of the imbalance in Nature today is because Nuumu aren’t gathering, harvesting, weaving, singing, praying, and living in the traditional way.  In order to have a balance within the wildness, it takes Nuumu to ‘weave it all together.’ “ (borrowed from a plaque at Paiute Center)

Yet, let’s face it, we won’t willingly go back to the way we lived 10,000 years ago; I doubt even today’s Nuumu would live ‘in the traditional way,’ assuming the DWP would ever let them wander their lands. We love our technology–from our trains and aqueducts to our toasters and iPhones–and unless we face a total collapse, we’re not going to give it up.

So if we can’t go back, and we can’t stay the course, we must design a brand new way of living–maybe one that bridges the gap between hunting and gathering, and pizza delivery. Certainly, we need to think sustainably, connect with the wild, and work within the bounds of nature like the Nuumu, but we also need to apply some serious technological ingenuity if we plan to make it out of this mess alive.

Maybe, then, we can ‘weave it all together’ again.

Yet, the truth is, my space only became important to me after I got clean off heroin. Before then, I spent years living out of bags in residential hotels–in other words, homeless. When I moved into my guesthouse in Hermosa, at age 26 and one month sober, however, I carefully decorated my space to reflect–and construct–my new identity. Four years later, when I met Tree, I knew when someone walked into my place, they’d get a good feel for who I was.

Decorating the Bounder was equally important to me. To be honest, I felt a little nervous. Would I be able to make this space warm and inspiring? Would I be able to pick out things that both Tree and I would like? Could I make it ‘function’ for a family with a two year old? Would the interior of the Bounder reflect our personal interior, individually and as a family?

This is the view forward

And the view back.

Now let’s talk details.

I love the pillows on this couch. The ones on the far outside were designed by Busy Mockingbird who has a store on Society6.  Busy Mockingbird is a collaboration between a mom and her 4year old daughter.

These pillows remind me to integrate, not compartmentalize. They remind me that my passion for writing and my passion for my family are not mutually destructive; they can co-exist beautifully. In fact, if I collaborate, if I include Sol and Tree and you and nature and everything else that inspires me, who knows where my passion will lead.

The pillows on the inside are made from recycled fabrics in India. I’ve always had a culture-crush on India. I’ve never been, but I don’t think you have to have been there to sense the  heady mix of spirituality and carnal decadence it exudes.

These pillows remind me to search for god here on earth.

Meet Oshun, an orisha in Santeria.  She is the goddess of love and guardian of the poor. She offers fertility, prosperity, and heals the sick. I’d say she’s a good goddess to have around. This statue was a gift from our dear friend Vivian in Cuba, the mother of the family with whom we stayed in Havana, in 2010. Santeria, the main religion in Cuba, is a fusion of beliefs brought by the slaves from Africa and the Catholicism of the Spanish colonizers. The Spaniards wanted the slaves to become christianized, but the slaves, rather than give up their old beliefs, continued to worship their gods disguised under the Catholic cult of saints. This sui-generis religion, or alchemic transformation of colonial oppression into personal faith, is powerful and transformative to its believers.

Oshun reminds me that I have the power to choose beliefs that serve me well. 

Meet Jesus. He’s Oshun’s boyfriend. Just kidding. She would never date him. Kidding again! Jesus. Calm down.

Okay, this statue has been with Tree for a very long time.  It hung in his family home as a child, and it’s been with us, along side the goddess of love, our entire adventure. I like this ‘prophet of peace’ version of Jesus rather than the more common crucified guy.

Jesus reminds us that family and tradition are the roots from which we grow–and, of course, to walk in peace.

This is the space where the television used to be. We ripped it out and hung Sol’s painting there instead. (Don’t get your hopes us art speculators, that painting is already SOLD to Mushroom Dave.)

This is Sol’s zone. As you can see, the canvas boxes are filled to the brim with books, blocks, babies and art supplies, and some ‘babies’ don’t even fit. In fact, this picture reminds me that we need to practice giving some babies up for adoption. 

This is Soleil’s art wall, otherwise known as our beautiful fire hazard.  She doesn’t want to take any pictures down, so now we’re going 3-4 deep on every pushpin. Attention art speculators, these drawings are FOR SALE.

Some of these magnets–“Strange Girls”, Dorothy’s red slippers, and “Will your next child be a hopeless drug addict”– have been with me since I was 22 years old, living in Silver Lake in a funky $400/mo studio apartment off Sunset. I look at them now and see right through the hipster kitsch to the broken heart I lugged around, thinking I was so cool. These magnets remind me that I did a good job healing me, that ‘cool’ is overrated, and there’s no place like home(less). 

Here’s our kitchen, which I love!! I have 4 burners AND AN OVEN! It’s amazing. I also covered the hideous backsplash with some of my favorite art cards.

This is our super amazing, radder-than-rad, Blade Runner Unicorn clock. It reminds me of so much–the fleeting gift it is to be alive, the great equalization of death, man’s exploitation of life, what it means to be human (or “more human than human”), how terrifying the future is–but more than anything, I think of Roy Batty’s incredible speech in the rain that gives me shivers every time I see it:

“I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe.

Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion.

I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate.

All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.

Time to die.”

Here’s our ‘book binding’ kitchen rug–a rather pathetic homage to my lost collection.  It reminds me to tell people to never give up their book collection in an effort to practice non-attachment because if you do, you will suffer forever.

This is where I work, we eat, and Soleil watches “Me Gusta Ser Yo”

This is our toilet, which if you ever read my feminist manifesto on overcoming the biological burden of urination, you’ll know is a big deal. If there were awards for most-used and well-travelled funnel, my funnel would win. But for now it’s tucked safely in a drawer, resting up for our next foreign adventure. By the way, I would normally NOT post a picture of our toilet, but you have to admit that Sol’s ducky potty attachment is pretty cute.

We even have a shower! And hot water! It’s amazing. The horrible blue backsplash has got to go, though. That’s what used to be in the kitchen before I covered it with all the art postcards. I think I’ll do the same in here, maybe some Matisse and Georgia O’Keefe would go nicely?

This is our super comfortable bed. We splurged and got one of those Tempurpedic Bed in a Box things. So good.

I originally wanted to get a colorful Indian bedspread, but Tree thought every one I picked out looked like “someone threw up a rainbow.” Men.

Anyhow, the duvet is supposed to be a map of the world, but the Americas seem to take center stage, which, I suppose, is apropos for now…

THIS is where Tree got to ‘decorate’ all by himself.  HE LOVES HIS KITCHEN SETUP! It still feels weird to say the word ‘kitchen’ and ‘Tree’ in the same sentence. Until 3 months ago, he’d never cooked or grilled a day in his life. Now he’s Mr.BBQ, waving around his tongs and spatula, cruising back and forth between his grill and two-burner attachment. Okay he hasn’t used the stove, yet, but he’s excited to try. Apparently being OUTSIDE makes all the difference.  I can’t believe it took me 9 years to figure that out. 

Here’s Soleil telling me how sad our basil looks: “Triste, mama. Ella quiere agua.”  I have to water my herb garden every day (clearly I forgot a day in this picture) because it’s so f’n dry here, and it never rains. When California runs out of water, I want everyone to know it’s my fault.

So there you have it. That’s the inside of the Bounder.  But, in the spirit of honesty, I thought I’d let you know what it really looks like..

And what it looks like after we’ve been playing all morning….

The nice thing about living in an RV though is that it only takes a little over an hour to clean the whole house.

Next post is about Bishop, California, and why it’s my favorite future ghost-town.

I lost my virginity here when I was 16. Woohoo! Just kidding, it was actually very anti-climatic. (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself with the pun).

Then I landed here briefly around age 23 during my run-riot days and, of course, made things worse. Suffice to say this is not the best town to bring a habit.

Then 7 years later, at a wine tasting event at the top of Mandalay Bay, I first laid eyes on the love of my life, sitting pretty as he was in his tight t-shirt and smooth olive skin, just waiting for me to land in his lap and profess my undying love. Woohoo!!!! For reals this time.

A couple years after that, I got a phone call while I was in LA from one of Tree’s climbing friends telling me that Tree had fallen 40ft at Red rocks and was being helicoptered to a nearby hospital. That sucked. But oddly enough that accident, as horrible as it was, changed the trajectory of our lives. Before the accident our relationship was like a series of honeymoons–once a month we’d meet up somewhere and have a lot of fun–but we could never figure out how to reconcile my dreams and his dreams. Then, during Tree’s recovery, he was in a wheelchair for 5 months and needed a lot of help.  So I would fly up to Seattle on the weekends (I was going to UCLA during the week) and relieve his mom (or dad or brother) to take care of him. Somehow between pushing him to Starbucks and cooking him dinner, we were finally able to ‘see’ a future together. It’s funny how sometimes our deepest dreams–the ones about love, commitment, and intimacy–are hiding in the most mundane places.

And, now, six years after that, we’re back in Las Vegas, plus one. In fact, in just a few days Tree and I will celebrate our 9 year ‘getting together’ anniversary. As much as we love reminiscing about those raucous days in Sin City, when we were in our early thirties and stayed out all night partying like rock stars, these days as a family are infinitely better.

Soleil walking through downtown, the coolest part of Vegas by far.

This time around we have Soleil, and it makes all the difference.  

Honestly, I always thought parents just let their kids roam around Circus Circus while they played slots all day. I had no idea Vegas had so much to offer…. like GIANT PENGUINS!

And GIANT UNICORNS!

And GIANT ROCKS!

We spent at least a couple days a week rock climbing. Well, Sol and Tree rock climbed. I just went along for the nature ride and to spot Soleil. Unfortunately, I’ve STILL been nursing my shoulder injury, which some X-rays and an MRI later has turned out to be a pinched nerve in my neck caused by three herniated discs. Physical therapy here I come.

Last night Tree and I were lying in bed, his feet swollen after a long day climbing, my neck and shoulder aching after a long day of being mom, and we were trying to picture what we were going to look like in another 10 years, 20 years…we couldn’t bear to think beyond that. We should have had at least one more kid to help Sol push our wheelchairs.

Soleil has been loving her days in the wild. She runs around and picks out her own projects. “This one! Esto!” she says, pointing at bigger and bigger rocks.

You really have to try hard to see her at the summit, but look how proud she is. Go Soleil! Brazos arriba! 

Tree had some great climbing days, too.  Thank you Lorenzo for keeping my honey safe! Now put a helmet on, dammit.

I carry these childhood pictures of Tree around in my wallet.  He must be around 8 years old.

Now look at that smile. Some things just never change.

I like to look at his kid pictures when I’m mad at him. It reminds me that underneath it all, we’re just kids in grown up bodies living grown up lives.

While Tree was off having his fun, Soleil and I were hitting the Strip! Okay that’s a lie. But we did go to the Gilcrease Animal Sanctuary with Lisa (Lorenzo’s wife), her friend Michelle, and their kids, and we saw goats, pot belly pigs, ducks, geese, pheasants, mules, and more animals I can’t remember.

And then all four kids got naked and one little boy pooped behind a bush, and we got kicked out. Who says the party stops after having kids? They don’t even have to be drunk to strip down and defecate in public.  But don’t worry kids, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas! Your secret is safe on the Internet.

A goat named Houdini stole Elijah’s banana, and then this funky chicken stole my celery stick. What a racket.

A big highlight was when Abuelita came to visit, and we went to Red Rocks….

and to the Springs Preserve, where we saw an awesome show performed by rescued parrots….

and then we painted a miniature bird house and ate anything we wanted at the brunch buffet.  If you think saying no to a 2 year old is hard, try saying no to a grandparent.

I absolutely love the picture below. With Sol’s grimace and clenched fist, and Noah’s red eyes, they look like they belong in that old movie The Warriors…..

“You warriors are good. Real good.”

 “The best. Can you dig it?”

…Or maybe just in a Clif bar commercial.

Tomorrow we head out toward Bishop, California which will be decidedly more wild than Vegas.  As much as we’ve loved being here, we’re longing to get outside the city and camp a little.

Also, I pretty much finished decorating the Bounder so next post will be an interior tour. 

And, other big news, my new web site is currently being built and will hopefully launch next month. It will continue along the same lines as Sprinter Life with daily life updates but with more to offer like free guides, road recipes, essays, and a question and answer forum.  I want to keep the same openness and honesty, and obviously highlight doing rad shit in beautiful places, but I have some higher aspirations, too. As I get closer to launch date, I’ll share my whole vision with you all.  In the meantime, if you have any suggestions or requests, please let me know. I’m all ears!

Okay, you want to know the new name?  Sneak preview!

COMING SOON…..

But those days are over now that we’re Breaking Bounder!   

It took an insane amount of work before we could hit the road, and we never could have done it without the help of John Sr. and Diane, Pa and Nana to Soleil.

While we were still in Hood River, John was kindly dealing with the carpet, upholstery, and solar panel installation. Still, when we arrived in Yuma, the Bounder was not quite livable, so we had to sleep in Pa and Nana’s coach, the luxurious 45ft Hollywood Rambler. Darn it!

When Diane wasn’t watching Soleil for us, she was deftly leading me through every big box store I swore I’d never shop at.

She magically made things like picking out a toilet scrubber and countless other boring but necessary items pretty darn fun. Still, if I ever have to go back to Walmart, Target or Bed Bath and Beyond again, I might gauge out my eyeballs with one of my new brushed metal butter knives. Total darkness has got to be better than wandering around a fluorescent-lit mega maze for hours on end.

To mitigate the pain and shame of big box shopping, we went to Martha’s Gardens. They grow an incredible selection of beautiful dates, and they make a date shake so damn good it made me forget I gave money to the darkside.

After a week of living in the Rambler, I think Pa was afraid we’d grown a little too accustomed to a lifestyle we can’t afford, so he booted us over to the Bounder.

A BIG transition for Soleil happened in that move: She got her very first big girl bed!! Yay Soleil!

In exchange, Tree got to move back into my bed. Yay Mommy and Daddy!  I’m really happy to have my husband back.  He kicks me less than Soleil does.

Another great addition to the Bounder is our bad-ass wifi system.  We’ve got a Boosting External Wifi, Pepwave Surf SOHO, Omni External Antenna, Outdoor Panel Antenna, Boosting Celular 4g Wifi, 32 Inch Omni Truckers Antenna, and a Wilson Mobile 50db 5-Band SmarTech III Kit.  I’m not sure what all that means, but I’m pretty sure that if E.T. exists, he will contact Sprinter Life as soon as he hangs up the phone with Drew Barrymore.

As expected with a 12 year old RV, things broke and we had to fix them. Our windshield wipers needed repair. Screws needed to be tightened, wheels needed to be greased. And then one morning our back slide wouldn’t come in and we had a mini-panic attack. Fortunately Pa had just befriended an RV repair guy named Mitch the day before, and he made an emergency house call.

As I was taking this shot, Pa was recounting how he had met Mitch. Apparently, while at an RV store nearby,  Mitch had helped Pa find some particular item, and Pa reflexively said, “Thanks hon,” as if he were talking to Diane.  Fortunately Mitch thought that was very funny.

We had to learn how to do everything–how to drive, use hand signals, flush our tanks, understand our solar control panel, and work together while hitching and unhitching the Trooper.

Fortunately talking with my hands comes naturally to me.  Badda-bing!

“Couldn’t you just buy the floor model?”   (It’s a good thing he’s so handsome)

In a future post, I’ll show you the inside of the Bounder.  I am currently not done decorating. Oye. 

When I moved into the Sprinter many moons ago, Tree lost his precious man cave, but now he has his own little section in the Bounder to leave his trail of tissues, ear plugs, and big long yellow lists.  Enjoy honey!

When we decided to get an RV, I struggled to reconcile owning a gas guzzling behemoth. What happened to “We Did It for the Wild,” right? But we put a lot of time and money into retrofitting our RV to be more energy efficient, and now I’m at peace with our decision. We bought used, stayed within our budget, and made our home as earth-friendly as we could.  Sure, I wish the Bounder ran on biodiesel and got better mileage, but we couldn’t afford a new RV on a Sprinter chassis, and all the Eco-Roamer type rigs are stupid expensive.

So here’s what we did to lessen our lifestyle’s impact on the planet:

1) We installed 2 large solar panels and 4 deep cell batteries– This set up allows us to live mostly free from fossil fuels when we’re stationary.  We don’t need to run our generator or plug in to power our cabin. Since our stove and fridge run on propane (a clean-burning alternative fuel), and we never use the microwave (it’s used as storage instead) and only rarely use the toaster or vacuum (power suckers), the sun is able to recharge our batteries back to 100% on its own.  Given the smaller space, our low payload, and our robust solar system, our impact is less than it would be in a house.

2) We replaced all the lights with LED lighting to conserve energy. This keeps our payload low so that we are able to use solar energy to effectively recharge our batteries.

3) We have TWO kitchen trash cans, one especially for recycling.  This is obviously no big deal to you house dwellers, but in the van we struggled with where to put trash, let alone recycling. Now I have plenty of space for both! Who knows, maybe I’ll even figure out a way to compost.

4) We bought a shiny new Berkey water filter system with stainless steel water bottles so that we no longer have to buy plastic bottled water EVER.  No more hormone disruptors, arsenic, or fluoride for this family.

5) We have a ton of reusable grocery totes, produce bags, snack packs, and glass/stainless food storage containers and, more importantly, I finally trained myself to remember to bring the damn bags to the store. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve caught myself explaining to the check-out person that I really am a good person who loves Mother Earth, but I just forgot today. Again. I’m so sorry!

6)We’re strategic about our itinerary. Given that we get 10 miles per gallon (ouch), we want to minimize our driving and maximize our stay-time in campgrounds, BLM lands, and RV resorts. And fortunately we work remote, so we don’t have a daily commute.

7) We’ve become 95% vegetarian, and we’re shopping organic as much as possible.   This is probably the most impactful thing we will do this year.  Although we don’t make Soleil be a vegetarian, she mostly is by default since that’s what I cook. When we’re with other people, however, she can eat Abuelita’s bacon or Nana’s pollo, if she chooses. I say 95% because we’re not perfect and don’t want to be. When we eat meat, we make conscious decisions to buy grass-fed, local, sustainable, cage-free, and humanely raised, if there is such a thing in the States.

Why does unfettered, expansionist capitalism have to make eating (and everything it touches) such a moral/health dilemma?

Anyhoo, for fun, I really want to start a little herb garden. Maybe some rosemary, thyme, sage, oregano and basil. MMMM. I love this aquaponic version. It would be such a cool way to teach Soleil (and me) about sustainable farming and permaculture.  I’m just not sure we want a big glass bowl full of water in the RV.  If that thing broke, it would be really, really ugly. Maybe I should just stick with the herbs, sans le poisson? 

Despite working our booties off the whole time we were in Yuma, we had a great time hanging out with Pa and Nana.  Soleil got to eat ice cream every night.  Tree and I got to see a Garth Brooks and Shania Twain impersonator concert, which was weird because somehow we knew all the songs. How does that happen? I listen to snobby indie music, not pop-country, and yet somehow I sang along with total exuberance. “‘Cause I got friends in low places where the whiskey drowns and the beer chases my blues away, and I’ll be okay…”  So fun, right?

Oh, and we even got to go to Mexico a couple of times for dental work (Tree) and prolotherapy (me).  I actually have a lot to say about my adventures in alternative, non-evidence based, foreign medical treatment, but I will save that mixed review for another post.  Suffice to say that when the questionnaire asked “Do you drinky?” I probably should have walked out.

But the time came to hit the road! And boy were we excited.

We buckled Soleil in her car seat and took off for Las Vegas, Nevada.

When we arrived, we had our first sunset on the patio of the Oasis RV resort.  Not bad at all.

In the photo below, Soleil is “talking” with Noni.  Earlier in the day, Soleil asked me for a lollipop, to which I replied no.  So later on, she “called” Noni with her hand.  While she was on “the phone,” I asked how Noni was doing, and she told me that Noni was very, very sad. Taking the bait, I asked why.  Well, she explained, because Noni wants a dulce.  But she can have a dulce, I say.  No, she wants a dulce FOR ME, mama.

I can just imagine poor Noni right now, suffering immeasurably because Soleil still hasn’t had that lollipop.

I love this little girl. And I love my husband and our crazy life.  We celebrated three years of marriage two days after Valentine’s, and we’re celebrating nine years of being together this March.

Here’s to love and adventure, folks!

So here’s the plan from now to May….

We’re flying south to Yuma this Sunday to meet up with our RV (it’s currently in the shop getting LED lights and new carpet, and undergoing a massive solar power installation–thank you Pa for overseeing the renovations!).  Then, after a couple of weeks in Yuma learning the ins and outs of our new rig, we hit the road in search of family climbing destinations (read: bouldering). Our first stop will be off-the-grid camping in Joshua Tree, then we’ll move to Vegas where we’ll hit up Red Rocks for a month, then Bishop for a month, and then, Tree’s favorite place on the planet, Yosemite for three whole weeks!

We cannot be any more excited to get our wild on.  Tree’s been going to the gym; I’ve been doing yoga and TRX training,  and we’ve been taking Sol to pools and playgrounds, but none of that is the same as getting your blood pumping outside.  Getting sweaty in nature taps into something primal and raw. Plus, it feels good and keeps you sane.

Soleil training for our coming adventures….

Before meeting Tree and becoming a nature girl, I was a brooding existentialist who chain smoked and liked to talk about how we all enter and leave this planet terrified and alone. But now that I own shoes with sticky rubber, and “enjoying nature” is more than shopping at an open-air mall, I feel the closest thing to god as I think will ever be available to a non-believer like me. Being out in untrammeled wilderness gives me what Glenn Albrecht, a Professor of Sustainability and super badass environmental philosopher, coined as a feeling of eutierria.  I love this neologism. The idea has been expressed in poetry by Emily Dickinson and Mary Oliver and countless others throughout history, but now we have one concise word to sum up the dissolution of ego into the wild, or rather the happy union of the wild within and the wild without.

 Eutierria: a positive feeling of oneness with the earth and its life forces where the boundaries between self and the rest of nature are obliterated and a deep sense of peace and connectedness pervades consciousness. (eu =good, tierra = earth, ia = suffix for member of a group of {positive psychoterratic} conditions).  (Pronounced: You tee air ia).  In contrast, to ecoanxiety, ecoparalysis and global dread, when the human-nature relationship is spontaneous and mutually enriching (symbiotic) we experience a state of ‘eutierria’.

For the rest of the week though, we are still in Hood River, a perfect little bubble community if there ever was one. For the past two months, we’ve been housesitting for our very good friends, Corrin and Glenn, who are on a road trip through Mexico.  I think because we knew it was short term, we have totally loved our time playing ‘house.’

Soleil went to her little Spanish immersion school three times a week….

She had play dates with lots of kids in the Hood.

Here she is “cuidando a Jackson” (taking care of Jackson), because he’s just a “bebe….pero muy, muy grande”

Soleil and Wren playing with toys, in the pool, on the trampoline….

And, of course, she played with Noni….

As much as I’ve been loving being here, I’ve been way too domestic for my taste. Aside from cooking and regular old house chores, I’ve been cleaning the chicken coop, filling water and food feeders, and collecting eggs, all of which have been a novel experience for me. I’ve never labored for my own food before so it was enlightening to discover how much work is actually involved in producing a couple dozen eggs a week. As a society, we’re so removed from our food. We have no real idea where it comes from, and what it takes to bring sustenance to our body. We’re consumers, not producers.

But not me lately! I am proud to say that I’ve been earning my fried eggs, omelettes, quiches and frittatas.

I do want to delve deeper into the world of permaculture and homesteading, but I’ve still got so much wanderlust in me. Maybe someday we’ll figure out a way to have both. Wouldn’t that be the dream!

We’ve been taking Soleil to the pool a ton to practice her swim skills in preparation for a couple family raft trips we have planned this year.

And Tree has been working so very hard these past two twelve months. More than any of us, he deserves to go outside and play. It’s always a challenge to find balance between making a living and actually living.

Thank you again Corrin and Glenn. Your home is full of the kind of love I love….hundreds of books and fragrant spices and handmade art from friends. It’s been a wonderful place to be.

Just three more weeks until we’re back on the road. I can’t wait! Stay tuned folks. Things are going to get good again –Stevie

Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things

--Mary Oliver

And one from Emily Dickinson....

I taste a liquor never brewed – 
From Tankards scooped in Pearl – 
Not all the Frankfort Berries
Yield such an Alcohol!

Inebriate of air – am I – 
And Debauchee of Dew – 
Reeling – thro’ endless summer days – 
From inns of molten Blue – 

When “Landlords” turn the drunken Bee
Out of the Foxglove’s door – 
When Butterflies – renounce their “drams” – 
I shall but drink the more!

Till Seraphs swing their snowy Hats – 
And Saints – to windows run – 
To see the little Tippler
Leaning against the – Sun!