Stories from the Road: Being Alone in Fear to Held in Community
It’s October 3 and I am driving cross-country towards the west coast for the cold, winter months. The sun is setting and I see an unsettled cloud in the sky. I am in Oklahoma, and then I hear the sound I know so well from growing up in Kentucky. Tornado warning sirens. I turn on the radio and hear a take cover announcement as a tornado is touching down near the campground I am 45 minutes from. I panic… What should I do? My house is with me. I have nowhere to go. I need to turn around and flee in the other direction, so I take the next exit and head in the opposite direction going 80 mph. I need to find a place to take cover ASAP. Real fear. I ended up at a Holiday Inn Express and was instructed to take cover in the bathtub. Then the sirens come again. I am scared. I am alone… and I am horrified that my home (with everything I own in my life) is parked outside and might not be there in the morning.
That is an extreme example of what happens sometimes on the road, but a very real and raw one. My van and I both ended up being okay that night, but it made me reflect on a few important things. I really enjoy being alone and my own company. Over the years I have learned to enjoy spending time with myself and my thoughts… After all, it’s why I decided to do solo vanlife. It’s full of adventure, challenges and feels very aligned with who I am and what I value. With all that being said, after a huge dose of fear, I found myself yearning for community and care. I wanted and needed a hug and to be held in a community atmosphere, which is very tough to swing on the road...during a pandemic. I took some time and journaled about it. I wrote in my journal, “I really hope to be able to *somehow* find a community on the road. I don’t know how that could happen, but I’d like to call it in.”
Fast forward to mid-November and I am sitting on BLM land outside of Joshua Tree National Park with 30+ other rigs, sharing stories, holding space for each other and in deep connection with others. The way it transpired is quite funny, actually. I was approached by a tiny home touring company to do a video tour of my van, Junie. I was put in contact with one of their videographers to schedule time to conduct the tour. He and I connected on Instagram and saw we shared climbing, vanlifing, and a lot of other things in common and should probably also just be friends. We were coordinating to meet up to do the tour on the road and he invited me to his birthday party in the desert. I was already headed to the area for the November Wildside Retreat, so I enthusiastically accepted the invite. He dropped the pin in the group chat and I was on my way…. Alone to meet up with a group of humans I had never met. If you knew me you would know that I am very shy about approaching groups. It’s something that gives me social anxiety, and let me tell ya: Vanlife is constantly pushing me in this way! The sun is starting to set in the range in front of me, as I pull onto the washboard dirt road, knowing ZERO people, but ready to push outside of my comfort zone.
I arrived, circled my van up with the others, and almost immediately knew I had made the right decision. Everyone was friendly, welcoming, and open to making new connections and friends. There was nothing to be nervous about - so many other folx had just met that day too! The amount of gratitude I have for this experience is insurmountable. Three days later, we unexpectedly circled up with a group of other vanners we met who were planning a Vansgiving with those on the road for the holiday. I had originally figured I'd be spending the holiday alone but was I pleasantly surprised! We had a full-on dinner where we honored the land, shared the real story of Thankstaking, and shared diversity in meals and experiences. It was possibly the best holiday event I’ve ever been a part of. Ironically, I felt so at home...genuinely rooted in the freedom of the experience.
With this crew: We danced. Climbed. Laughed. Cried. Worked. Hiked. Campfired. Crafted. Cooked. Hugged...and connected in such a beautiful way through appreciation and acceptance of each other. I now have a community of wonderful human beings in my orbit to caravan with, get out of sticky situations when our vans break down/we get stuck, support each other, share coffees in the mornings and family dinners at night, and operate as a support system for each other.
All in all, I am really proud of myself for being brave in vulnerability, calling in what I needed, showing up knowing exactly ZERO humans, and leaving with friends who I appreciate, accept and can’t wait to keep adventuring with in the future. I went from feeling alone in my fear to allowing myself to be held in community.
Oh what a beautiful life,
Kati
