The Lights Are Off

Okay, disclaimer: life on the road isn’t always easy.

Living in a small space comes with plenty of challenges — spotty internet, limited hot water or power, long hours of driving, going two or three days without a shower, keeping up with RV maintenance, and the daily dance of moving two things just to reach the one thing you actually need.

Add in the occasional disagreement with your spouse (which you’re forced to resolve faster than you might in a house with doors), and now we can officially add “sketchy people” to the list.

We were headed to a Harvest Host location for the night — a quiet little golf course in a small town, about midway across the state. It had all the makings of a peaceful evening before Yellowstone. The site was good, we had a nice dinner in town, and all seemed calm and cool.

Until it wasn’t.

After dark, a truck with two guys pulled in and parked right next to us. They didn’t get out. They didn’t say anything. Just… sat there. We went inside the RV, and eventually, they left. All good, we thought.

But then they came back — about 30 minutes later.

You know that feeling when the hairs on your neck stand up and your stomach drops? Yeah, that.

We didn’t wait around to find out what they wanted. We packed up and got out of there — fast. I’ve seen those kinds of movies, and let’s be honest: I’m not the badass heroine who escapes in the final scene. (Sorry, Gary.)

We ended up parking outside the local KOA, on the side of the road, getting almost no sleep and dealing with all the bad vibes that come with an unsettling night. But in the morning, we pushed on — leaving that scary chapter behind us.

And you know what? Even with the annoyances, the scary moments, and the occasional bad hair day, it’s still all worth it.

I look back on everything we’ve seen and done in the last three months, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because I get to share it all with my best friend in the whole world.