Brooklyn & Massachusetts

I got my van to a Chevy dealer in New Jersey, found my next campsite not too far away while I waited, and after shelling out an unexpected $370 for the headlight electrical fixes and inside door handle (which the dealer supposedly fixed when I bought it), I went off for Solo Camping Night #2.

I was excited to get to camp in the daylight and set up my cooking stove/grill. I attached the piece the grill comes with but it seemed too floppy but I couldn't get it more secure. I attached the long hose that was intended to let me leave my full-size propane tank in the van all the time and didn't have to find and buy those little camping tanks. Time to open the tank and ignite the grill. But, well, what if! I got super paranoid that when I would turn the gas on, I would explode because the hose wasn't right and the connections were loose. I got irrationally worried I was doing it all wrong and that it would be disastrous if I pressed the ignite button. I googled, I youtubed, I called a friend, I texted people... but no one and nothing I found was quite answering my questions and I wasn't sufficiently talked down off my ledge of anxiety. By then it was after dusk, the mosquitoes were relentless, and I was in quite a mood - feeling sorry for myself, feeling idiotic for not testing the grill before I left, and wondering what the hell I thought I was doing with this whole van adventure thing.

I decided to pack it up, pour myself a cocktail, and hang out inside the van, eating raw zucchini, mushrooms and red bell peppers with a yogurt dip I whipped up. It wasn't a bad dinner by any means, and by this point my disappointment was softened by good humor and positivity. Eventually I prepared the "bed," getting frustrated with the heavy wooden pieces and the clunky and injury-inducing sharp corners. Sleeping was a joke, as I just sank through the separating cushions again, even though I had tried stacking them. What. A. Night. 

I arrived to Brooklyn early in the afternoon and impressed myself with parallel parking the van in Park Slope. I sat myself at Roots Café for hours barely drinking coffee and working on my logo project and worrying about finances. Around 5pm I walked the very charming 1.5 miles down 5th Avenue to meet Jess, my sophomore and junior years roommate and friend. We caught up at Union Standard, sitting at the bar with happy hour specials and having a lovely sort of "it's-been-12-years-since-we've-really-even-spoken-but-it's-totally-fine" conversation. We decided to go around the corner for Thai food, having shared a special love of my college workplace, A Taste of Thai. It was really great reconnecting with such an old friend. I love that this trip has already been and will likely be more of this!

Brooklyn.... I adore Brooklyn. I kept imagining living there, or longterm van lifing on the street. I hung out with my high school friend, Lindsey, for a few days. I helped her prepare to move apartments and she helped me talk through van projects still undone. I told her about my stove/grill fears and she cleverly hooked me up with a friend of hers that isn't a camping guru, but a lab scientist! Basil was her name, and she was very patient with what I, by then, felt were irrational and silly worries. We walked, we had bagels and tacos and coffee, and a trip to IKEA for both of our needs. Oh yes, the van has some IKEA touches. (Note to self - should have taken photos for that - will edit later!)

I left Sunday morning after taking Lindsey up on a little gig to drop stuff off that she didn't want to deal with but wanted to get rid of responsibly. Then I was off to Massachusetts, excited to see a family I adore almost as much as my own, the Rodutas. I stopped in Connecticut somewhere on the way in a fancy outdoor mall area to find an REI, hoping they would have a solution to my bed problem. A helpful employee got me just what I wanted and I was so thrilled, I became a member and trotted off down the highway.

I arrived right before dinnertime to a home I remembered fondly. It was covered in construction wrap instead of the dark blueish grey wooden siding I loved, but the warmth and the family were inside. I dated the son of this family, PJ, for a few years back in my mid-20s and had remained connected with his family ever since (Thanks, Facebook). His father, Pete, passed away last November from a long battle with cancer, but his wife, son, two daughters, 2 son-in-laws, and 6 grandkids all bustled about the home as I remembered them, because of course—and thank goodness—life must go on. Everyone lives in town except PJ, who lives in Pittsburgh but was visiting that night for his niece's birthday. We all caught up, chatted, grilled, played and had dinner together and I was just so glad to be there.

The next day was much quieter. I made plans and did some work at the kitchen table while the family buzzed around me. The oldest daughter, Wendy, had hired me for family photos and we were trying to organize that around home buying and PJ leaving and work schedules. In the afternoon, PJ headed to New York City and I went out for ice cream with his mom, Karen, his sister, Merissa, and her daughter, Norah, who is a smart, pretty, and small bundle of 5-year old energy. Then we rushed to Wendy's home for a family photo session, which was challenging for all the people and personalities and rushed energy but I think I got some great shots that represent the family well. That evening, I played in the pool with Merissa and Norah, and sat with Karen for a long time over wine and talking about her plans for retirement. I don't recall ever getting that kind of time with her before and I really cherished it. She is a soul I have trouble describing but suffice it to say she has a depth of warmth and patience, is quick to laugh with her goofy kids, and is the sort of person you feel could give you all the answers to life's quandaries. 

In the morning I got ready to take off and felt I should get out of their way, but Karen offered breakfast and other helpful things and I let her, also not really wanting to leave just yet. Everyone else had left the house and it was just the two of us with coffee at the kitchen table. Somehow, I'm not sure why, the conversation became very emotional and serious and I felt like we were talking about her and her husband, but there were parallels to the uncertainty and change I was also going through. She said a friend sent her a card last fall that read, “You can be scared and brave at the same time” and I suddenly wanted to cry for her, for her loss, for her entire family’s loss, and then for me and all the worries I have about to enter the solo phase of my trip and the larger picture of my life. I couldn't hold back all the tears that were building up, but I sort of pulled it together. Then she hugged me tight and said my visit was a highlight of her summer and the tears came again, briefly. I said goodbye and drove off in my van and let the flood gates open. It was just overwhelming, everything, all of it. It was sad, comforting, and full of a lot of nuanced memories, hopes, and just... reality.

I drove a little ways to Portsmouth, Karen had suggested it because New Hampshire has no sales tax and I had decided I needed a new cell phone, the nice new camera ones. Then I realized I hadn’t taken any photos of me there, with them in Massachusetts, and was sad. Actually I hadn’t taken any of the people I had visited so far, besides one with Libby. I got the phone, stocked up at Trader Joe’s, and continued on one more hour to Portland. I didn't love it as much as I thought I would, having a vague fond memory of a short visit about 16 years earlier. I walked around Old Port, bought a great handmade canvas bag, and stopped at Andy’s Old Port Pub for mussels and Maine craft beer, all of which was great, and tried to do some work. Getting tispy on one beer and realizing I was still too far from my campsite, I instead went to a coffee shop, tried to work more, then decided to just go an hour north to a travel plaza for the night. It was a really nice one with a large, well-lit parking lot and I felt safe enough. The new camping pads were an excellent solution and I slept a full 9 hours with no issues. On to Acadia National Park....