“Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes
How do you measure, measure a year?
In daylights, in sunsets
In midnights, in cups of coffee
In inches, in miles
In laughter, in strife”
(Seasons of Love, Rent)
After a year of heaviness and pain, I find myself in a season of transition and grief. I’m desperately trying to hang on to the beautiful moments, the sunrises and laughter and love.
We left our home in the fall and did a brief tour of St Louis, Chicago and the Indiana Dunes before arriving in New England to see the leaves in magnificent display. The splash of vibrant colors was sharpened by the rolling hills, glass clear lakes and mountainous backdrop.
We had always intended to head south as soon as the serious cold started to settle in, spending the holiday season with my in laws. The painful story continues to unfold and we retreated to a safe place for a beat.
In these early days of our journey, I feel adrift without an anchor. The idea of adventure feels like a familiar but unattainable dream.
We rolled out of town early on January 7th, “Into the Unknown” playing at peak volume on my phone as the four of us belted our travel theme song. Our destination was a week of relaxing in Galveston Island, Texas in an RV park on the beach/gulf.
At some point during the trip, I identified an odd smell and we pulled over. The engine appeared to be fine so we continued on. We were making good time, in high spirits.
Around 3, Dennis went into 'limp mode.' At the time, it didn’t even seem like a serious thing. John pulled into a truck stop and it appeared our transmission fluid was low. After a bunch of back and forth, John determined that he needed more fluid. The truck stop was out of the specific fluid we needed, so he called around and a Dollar General confirmed they carried it. This sounded strange to me, but I was honestly more focused on us no longer reaching our campsite in the daylight. John reassured me that this issue was not a big deal as we crept along slowly towards the store.
It turned out that Dollar General does not carry transmission fluid for big, special trucks like Dennis. The low power mode and lack of fluid made John hesitate to move the truck.
We were in the small, hole in the wall town of Defuniak Springs, located in the middle of the Florida Panhandle.
Ah, Defuniak Springs. At first glance, someone passing through might think it was a decent destination; after all, it seemingly has “fun” right in its name. But, that’s not the correct pronunciation or vibe.
Defuniak Springs is not a destination for travelers, but a stop on their way to other places. There are no ubers or taxis. The one meal delivery stops taking orders at 5 pm for their latest delivery of 6:30 pm.
Somehow, we found ourselves choosing a high class meal from the Dollar General, hitching an interesting ride with a young, kind manager. We arrived at a hotel, exhausted, our heads spinning, unsure if it was from the crisis before us or the abrupt silence after a car ride filled with a strong bass.
In the days that followed, we were towed to a beautiful lake front campground, driven by the young manager’s grandmother to pick up a rental car several towns over, and began our hunt for a new to us vehicle.
(view from our campsite)
The Florida panhandle is an interesting place. It’s in the “Bible Belt,” and the religious fervor and intolerance is almost palpable in the area. Having previously lived in Tallahassee working in the remote neighboring counties for my internship, we were already well acquainted with the culture of the area. It’s the type of place where every single verbal interaction ends in, “have a blessed day.” There are religious billboards at most intersections and flashing electronic signs with Bible quotes at restaurants. When we finally received our new to us truck, I found an “instruction manual for life,” aka the New Testament, in the glove box. Men in this particular stretch of earth feel they are superior to women and are highly offended by women who have brains.
I’ve always had brains, so it’s not really my cup of tea. I’m finding my voice which was even more unsettling for the locals.
If you heard my description and it sounds great, then I’d be happy to pass on the information on our campground; it truly was lovely. No judgement. I’m happy for you if you are happy.
Being broken down for three weeks in the middle of nowhere waiting on parts (for a recall on our NEW truck), ants swarming into our camper felt … familiar. The parallels between this break down and the beginning of our adventures in 2020 were unnerving. I woke up everyday trying to focus on the sunrises and differences in our experiences.
(Riley at sunset overlooking Ft Walton Beach during our Mommy and me night)
We had a rental car and visited Destin and Ft Walton Beach. Definitely beautiful beaches with white powdery sands and a pretty blue color to the water caused by algae growth. It was too cold to really enjoy the beach and Kaeli’s cast made it prohibitive to do too much digging in the sand.
Knowing the rainy forecast for our last weekend day, we planned to spend the day at the Gulfarium. Unfortunately, we didn’t take into account that an aquarium in Florida would have mostly outdoor exhibits. After our trip to Shedd Aquarium this fall, the aquarium didn’t overly impress me. It was still fun to spend the day with the animals and I finally got the chance to try out my new camera.
We most enjoyed the dolphin and sea lion shows, asking the animal trainers questions, and observing the penguins and sharks.
We rolled back out of town on Saturday the 28th, tucked safely in our new reliable truck, hope in our hearts. We had no idea what the next few days would bring.
