We’re parked behind an Arco next to the freeway entrance. We’re only a dozen miles from where we pulled out of an icy driveway, hauling our temporary tiny home behind us. We headed out slow and it stayed that way. The truck hasn’t switched out of 4wd low and we haven’t gone over 25 miles per hour.
So we sit. Mark peruses the owners manual for a solution and we munch surprisingly tasty truck stop cinnamon rolls. I fortify myself with a cup of Brahmin #18 tea.
Be easy about this. That’s what my inner wisdom says. So I turn my attention to the nature just outside the window.
And I find myself birding in the middle of it all. Snipe, Dunlin, Blackbirds, and Killdeer circle round and round, a hawk sweeping in looking for lunch on the wing. It’s cold today, fog settled over the valley. Everything is white and mist.
I look out the passenger door window. Icicles line up and drop along leaves, vines, and old dried up fruit on the tangle of blackberries next to the truck. There is beauty all around me, in this wintry landscape. Their’s beauty in the calm within in me too, so grateful for the calm.
I don’t know if we will continue on towards the mountain or be turning around and going back home to the farm. We passed a KOA on the way. I smile at how that is possibility too now. This is mobile living. This is all part of the adventure.
We attempt one of the solutions in the manual and the truck finally agrees to switch out of four wheel drive. Mark celebrates by going back inside the truck stop and getting a cup of coffee. He hears the Red Hot Chili Peppers on the sound system while he pays. He smiles at the lyrics.
“Can’t stop the spirit when it moves you. This life is more than just a redo.”
We start up the truck and head on down the road. The mountains are calling and we are on our way.