Sheila’s Greatest Hits

Sitting in a Starbucks in Apache Junction this morning, I realized that I missed Sheila’s half-birthday. In other words, the 6-month mark since we started adventuring full-time. And sitting there, on the eve of the day I’m returning to Maine for a two-week Thanksgiving visit without her, I started reflecting on everything we’ve been through over the past six months, and how much I’ve changed since I pulled out of the driveway back in May. I began reading old blog posts, and it all came flooding back- the places we’ve been, the people we’ve met, the really weird things we’ve done, and how over these past six months I’ve become a much, much better version of myself (and I’m sure Sheila would have too, if she was actually a person). So in honor of her half-birthday, I’ve put together a list of our greatest hits- a few of the moments (some old stories, and some stories I haven’t told yet) that have most defined us and our adventure. And let me tell you, it’s been one hell of a time. 

The first defining moment of our journey was the day I officially realized that I was homeless. I was in a Walmart parking lot in Reno, on my way to pick up Jerry. I had gone inside to use the bathroom and buy a sandwich for dinner. Returning to Sheila with my sandwich and a stolen wad of toilet paper in my jeans pocket, I proceeded to empty the water from my cooler into a bush, open up all my doors, and sit on the kitchen counter plucking my eyebrows. But every time I would look up from my intense eyebrow-plucking, someone would be staring at me. ‘What the hell?” I thought- a girl can’t get a little privacy in her own van? Jeez.. and then it hit me. While I was in fact “in my own home,” my home was now normally parked in a public place, where people had every right to stare at the back-of-the-Walmart-parking-lot’s newest resident. It was official- I had nowhere to go home to. No walls, no privacy, no sense of stability or permanence, no shower.. it was just me and Sheila, and whatever sketchy corner of the world we decided to post up in. As it clicked, I whispered to myself, “Hell yeah,” and went back to plucking my eyebrows with a newfound enthusiasm. 

Another moment I won’t easily forget was the time I may or may not have accidentally flashed someone.. also in the back of a Walmart parking lot, of course. This was a few days into my very first trip. I was getting ready for bed, and had turned on all the lights in the van to get changed and get things buttoned up. But what I had forgotten to do… was to pull the shades down. Sheila’s windows are tinted, but not that tinted- a fact that I suddenly realized when I heard a yell and something along the lines of “she’s totally naked!” coming from outside. Shit. Horrified, and still very naked, I dove down onto the van floor. As I lay on the floor, lights still on and shades still open, I slowly wiggled my foot up towards one shade to try to pull it down with my toes (I would have gone for the light switch, but I’m only 5’3”- I can’t work miracles). After a few minutes of very difficult maneuvering with the big toes of both of my feet, I managed to pull down one of the shades, which provided me enough cover (so I told myself) to jump up and hit the light switch. I’m not sure what happened to the person I scared- I can only imagine that they are scarred for life- but I know I definitely learned a lesson about public nudity and tinted windows. I’m not proud of it.. but the mental image still makes me laugh at myself every time. 

Another moment that stands out in my mind was on the Tahoe Rim Trail. It was one afternoon around the middle of the trail, after a very long day. I had just set up camp, had gotten stabbed in the butt (and subsequently in the face) by a thorn bush, and bitten by a fire ant (on the same ass check that the thorn had assaulted). Admitting defeat, I climbed up on top of a boulder next to the campsite, where I sat for the rest of the evening. Four or five parties passed by, all stopping to talk, and all asking why I was sitting on top of this boulder as if I was involved in some kind of meditation. Naturally, my response was “This is an ant-free zone,” without any context to make myself sound rational or sane in any way. To which I got many strange looks and a few “ok…”’s. But still I continued to sit on top of this boulder until the sun went down. Everyone in those 4-5 parties must think I am absolutely insane, but honestly, I couldn’t care any less. Because as I sat crisscross-applesauce on that boulder contemplating my life and my choices, It occurred to me that I didn’t know any of the people I had interacted with that afternoon, I probably never would, and I certainly would never know their real opinions on my meditation/ant avoidance tactics. So why should it matter? And this was the moment when I realized that it really just… didn’t. 

Ok one more memory, and I promise I’ll stop reminiscing. But this has to be one of my favorite moments of this journey so far- waking up at Duck Lake with my sister. She had come to California to visit me, and we had gone on a one-night backpacking trip near Mammoth Lakes. After a night of literally no sleep, where I had finished an entire book by John Muir while huddling under the 20-degree sleeping bag that we both shared, we crawled out of my one-person ultralight tent, not-at-all rested, to make breakfast and coffee. As we sat on a rock, still completely zipped into our sleeping bags, only the purple tips of our fingers sticking out of the tops to clutch our coffee mugs, we talked about the night’s events until we were both laying on the ground, still fully zipped into our sleeping bags, laughing so hard that we cried as we rolled around like human burritos in the dirt outside our tent. Packing up and hiking out, we spent the whole 4 miles yelling nonsense at each other and half-singing, half-yelling what is possibly the world’s worst version of “The Middle.” Aside from being a perfect reminder not to take myself too seriously, this morning was also a reminder that while I love the quiet and solitude of traveling alone, sometimes it doesn’t hurt to have a little company- especially if it’s your sister and your best friend all wrapped into one. 

It has been an eventful six months. Sheila and I  have had some incredible moments, some difficult ones, and some moments that have taught me more about myself in just a few short months than I had learned in the previous 26 years. When I think back to the girl that pulled out of her driveway 6 months ago, I don’t even recognize the person in those memories. Because the Caroline I see now when I look in the mirror is stronger, more confident, more willing to laugh at herself, more open to any and all new experiences, more excited and hopeful about her life and her future, and most importantly, loves herself so much more than that girl from another life. And I owe it all to one little white camper van. I can’t wait to see where the next six months will take us.. but until then, Sheila and I are- as usual- off to keep screwing up. Because really, I can’t think of anything we do better. I should probably work on that. 

I forgot to add a quote to the end of my last post, so in this one I’ll put two! Don’t get too exited. 

“You’re always one decision away from a totally different life.” -Unknown

And one more:

“I am still a work in progress, and hope to always be.” -Lupita Nyong’o