On April 6, Sandy and I set out on a 15-week journey across North America. To maximize this opportunity to unplug, I resisted the temptation to share every stop on social media for two obvious reasons:
1. I cannot be fully present in the moment if I’m consumed with sharing experiences on the FaceSpace
2. I don’t want to be that guy screaming: “Look at the cool shit I’m doing…and you’re not!”
Regarding point #2, I suppose this post is an inherently hypocritical exercise, but I’m writing this more for myself to reflect and remember (I’m ashamed of my 15-year-old self who procrastinated the required journaling in my sophomore English class). So…here are some memories and lessons I learned along our criss-cross of Canada and the US:
106 days, 16,000 miles, 24 states, 6 provinces, and 15 gigs
Lesson #1:
“Have you noticed that their stuff is shit and your shit is stuff?”
- George Carlin -
Imagine if you were prohibited from ordering stuff on Amazon for four months! What if you could order from Amazon but had nowhere to put the stuff? One has little choice while living in a van, and it’s a liberating feeling. One of the joys of backpacking is the freedom of being responsible only for the belongings on your back and the steps ahead. This van trip generated similar feelings, but with a refrigerator, toilet, and comfy bed. This was also my first trip without the mental distraction of fires burning back at the office, or the annoying Zoom call awaiting me Monday morning. Since returning home, Sandy and I have tried to sustain that reduction in clutter, so we started putting all impulse buys into the Amazon Cart and letting them sit for a week before deciding whether they really add value to our lives. Try it.
Lesson #2:
“There are not Five Great Lakes. There are only Four Great Lakes, and one Lake Superior”
I learned this dad joke from the ferry captain at Apostle Islands National Lakeshore. We spent substantial time on all five lakes during this trip, and essentially circumnavigated Lake Superior, hugging its shores across Canada, and exploring its southern shores across Wisconsin and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula on the return trip. We finished our travels before the mysterious Lake America appeared on the map.
Lake Huron
Lesson #3:
“Shut the fuck up”
One of my most annoying traits is the need to analyze and comment on every event in life (I can imagine those who know me nodding in agreement as you read this). At the beginning of this trip, Sandy and I were still re-learning how to get along in my post-retirement life (See my “Arrival Fallacy” blog entry), and this trip was a great opportunity to eliminate distractions and reinvest in my relationship with her. On the flip side, living in small quarters where you are in each other’s presence 24 hours a day (the only exception being when I would go for a solo hike) requires a higher level of patience and understanding. I once started an argument in the grocery store over which size of bagged lettuce we should buy based on our limited refrigerator space. After that incident, I trained the little voice in my head to remind myself to STFU before I pick my battles. Being right just isn’t worth it most of the time.
STFU…or else
Lesson #4:
“America Sucks”
I love Canada, and many of the people I met there this spring reminded me of how badly we Americans have been behaving. I’ve traveled to Canada dozens of times, but this trip was different. Our gigs in Quebec drew some of the most enthusiastic crowds Abacab has ever played to, and many in the audience came to speak to me after these shows. After sharing their appreciation for our love of this music, the consistent unsolicited feedback I received was: “We really do love you Americans, just not your president.” In the 17 years I’ve had a social media account, I’ve never posted anything about politics or religion, and I’m not about to start it here. I also try not to judge anyone for what they believe or the conclusions they draw from events, no matter how incomprehensible that conclusion may seem to me. I find it’s better to focus on behaviors, and it baffles me how selfish, divisive, and self-righteous others can be, even if they are defending a position I agree with. Maybe we all need to STFU just a little more.
Montreal
Lesson #5
“America is the greatest country in the world”
This is what the contact for our Toronto gig retorted when I shared those stories from Quebec, and I have to agree this is also true. During our journey, we visited 12 State Parks, 7 National Parks, 3 National Historic Sites, and 1 National Monument (on top of 5 Canadian National Parks). When Ken Burns released his mini-series The National Parks: America's Best Idea, he took the title from author Wallace Stegner, who described National Parks as "the best idea we ever had” in America. Being a bucket list guy, I’ve obsessively collected over 700 Passport Stamps from the 433 official units of the National Park System (visiting over ¾ of them). Of those 433, 63 are designated National Parks, and this trip took us to Crater Lake NP, my last of the contiguous 48 states, and 59th overall. Only 3 remote Alaskan parks and the elusive National Park of American Samoa remain, and I’m already devising a plan to complete my quest.
Crater Lake National Park
Lesson #6
“Caring for others is the greatest pleasure in life”
Last month, we said goodbye to our beloved Max. His health had been declining in stages this year, and we weren’t even sure he would make it through our epic van journey. Instead, this trip became the ultimate farewell tour for all of us. Being in the small confines of the van together, or sitting by a campfire most nights, meant we were always in his presence. Each day he enjoyed a healthy dose of fresh air, singing birds, bugs, and plenty of dirt to roll in. We gave ourselves permission to check into a hotel occasionally to stretch out and get a clean shower, but near the end of the trip, we fully embraced our lifestyle with Max and opted to go the last 30 straight days without a hotel break. I struggled mightily over the decision to let Max go. Sandy has always been his soulmate and favorite person, but it was Sandy who helped me accept the fact that I was holding out for a miserable end of life for him due to my own selfish reasons. I know we are not alone in grieving over such a difficult process, but this is the first time in our 35 years of marriage that Sandy and I have not had the responsibility of caring for another life. It still feels strange, and I sometimes feel guilty over our new ability to travel unencumbered.
We still have lots to care about outside our immediate home. I’m grateful that Sandy’s mom survived cancer, that my mother’s health has remained steady, and that she can still kick my ass at Jeopardy. Kayla and Jack just purchased their first new home together, and Molly and Tyler marry in less than three weeks!
Thank you, Max, for giving us the best 14 years of our lives.
December, 2012
August, 2026
No AI (besides basic aids from Grammarly) was used in the creation of this blog entry