And day by day, our little ship is getting shipshape.


Today we filled a shopping cart with empty gallon water jugs, tooled them over to the water vending machine at the good market in Borrego Springs, and spent three dollars getting twelve gallons of sweet, sweet water. When we were pulling in we ran into Sherie and Dave, who we’d last seen at the town laundry mat. They were wheeling a cart full of water bottles into their car. They’ve got a setup in town where they can park their rig for two hundred bucks a month, full hook ups. But Sherie likes to go into town to do laundry and get water because there’s folks to talk to.

Before we got to the market we hit the hardware store for little plastic organizing bins, and paper towels, and trash bags, and what what what. Everywhere we go there are other rigs pulling in or out. Doing what we’re doing- looking for water, or a place to dump trash, or a free wifi spot, or to simply resupply.

There’s a whole new language, a whole new culture for us to learn. We got a library card and mooched free wifi in the local library. We figured out the right joint to get our martinis and our grub. After a couple times in any joint we are locals. We got our own tables.

We go to the vistor center and learn about the park. We talk to folks out walking their dogs in the wasteland.  No one ever bothers us. We move between the wild vastness of the desert and the fluorescent lit strangeness of the liquor store/deli/market and encounter those who live on the fringes of the known world. We are becoming them.

Our old lives look small and far away. We’ve got the scent of the sea in our noses and we may never see land again. We are out for the journey and none know how or where or when it will end.

By God we’ve done a thing.






do what you must to be happy.