Springer's Journey

For most of this journey, I have had a destination.

Even when the destination changed — and believe me, it changed — there was usually some point on the map I was trying to reach.

I’ve decided to try something different.

I don’t have one.

There are places I want to see. There are people I may eventually meet. There are diamonds in Arkansas that apparently require my personal investigation.

ARE YOU SERIOUS??!!

We are NOT leaving Arkansas without digging for diamonds.

But none of those things requires me to hurry.

That may be one of the biggest changes I’ve made during this almost month-long pause in Arkansas.

I’m learning to travel differently.

For starters, I’ve made a new rule:

No Interstates unless they’re briefly necessary.

A slightly longer state or U.S. highway where I can comfortably drive, observe Cora, see the countryside, and pull over when I want may be far easier than saving twenty minutes on an Interstate.

There it is.

Faster isn’t necessarily easier.

And if I don’t have a particular destination, what exactly am I racing toward?

So when we leave this wonderful KOA, we’re going to try something new.

Short hops.

I usually wake up early anyway. I’ll have my coffee, pack carefully, check Cora, and head toward the next place while the day is still young.

Not 300 miles.

Maybe an hour.

Maybe two.

Maybe less.

And arriving at the next campsite does NOT mean we’re staying there.

That’s another new rule.

Before I unload one single thing, I’m going to look.

Really look.

I’ll take pictures.

What does the road look like?

Where would water go if there were a flash flood?

Is there higher ground?

If we’re in tornado country, where is the nearest substantial shelter?

Are there other people reasonably nearby?

Do I have an easy way back out?

And here’s one I hadn’t thought enough about:

What do the neighbors look like?

The campsite itself might be perfect.

The people nearby might make every alarm bell in my head start ringing.

I don’t have to prove they’re dangerous.

I don’t have to explain myself.

I don’t even have to be right.

If I don’t want to sleep there, we leave.

That’s it.

At 1:30 in the afternoon, with Cora still packed and plenty of daylight left, “Nope. Next place.” is a perfectly good decision.

That’s why arriving early matters.

It gives me options.

I have spent a fair amount of my life reacting quickly.

Sometimes that’s useful.

Sometimes it has been VERY useful.

But I’m beginning to discover something rather revolutionary:

I can take time to think.

😂😂😂

Who knew?

I can gather information without immediately acting on it.

Someone can invite me somewhere without my changing direction that afternoon.

A campground can look wonderful online without my being obligated to stay there.

A road can be shorter without being easier.

And a plan can change without having failed.

I’ve been thinking about water lately.

Fluidity.

Water responds to the landscape in front of it.

It changes direction.

It slows down.

It goes around things.

Sometimes it pools for awhile.

Then it moves again.

Maybe that’s how I want to travel.

There are practical reasons for slowing down, too.

Gas costs money.

Campgrounds cost money.

And after Cora’s alternator experience, I am very aware that I want to rebuild my savings.

I’m even reconsidering little habits.

If coffee is on sale, I have always been inclined to buy two cans.

But here’s an astonishing scientific discovery:

I can only drink out of one can at a time.

😂

Cora is not a house.

She doesn’t need a pantry.

And eight dollars sitting in my bank account may someday be considerably more useful than eight dollars sitting in the back of Cora disguised as bargain coffee.

So this next part of Springer’s Journey is going to be an experiment.

Travel less.

See more.

Spend less.

Arrive early.

Look before settling.

Listen to my instincts.

And leave myself enough time to change my mind.

I admit I’m nervous.

The alternator breakdown shook my confidence more than I realized.

And we’re heading toward country I don’t know.

But confidence doesn’t have to return all at once.

We’ll build it again.

One short drive.

One safe arrival.

One good campsite.

Then another.

Cora started.

Cora drove.

We arrived.

We handled it.

Evidence.

And eventually those little successes will pile up.

There are some things that remain non-negotiable, of course.

We are digging for diamonds before we leave Arkansas.

I would be delighted to find an amethyst.

And somewhere out there is apparently a rock I haven’t met yet that I’m going to insist is “interesting.”

Professor Headquarters has been warned.

After Arkansas, perhaps we’ll drift a little northwest.

Perhaps eventually we’ll winter somewhere in the low desert.

Perhaps plans will change completely.

That’s okay.

There is no finish line.

For now, there is simply:

The next place.

We’ll get there when we get there.

And before anybody unloads the tent…

we’re going to take a good look around.

😉

Polished with help from ChatGPT, who understands Mayday Murphy far better than any reasonable being should.