The Lights Are Off

Today we arrived at our fourth Harvest Host location, and quite possibly our favorite so far. We pulled into Hampton Roads Winery in Virginia and spent a perfect day and night in one of the most peaceful, welcoming settings we’ve experienced on this journey. The wine was excellent, the grounds were beautiful, and our hosts—David, Diane, and their son Rich—were warm, generous, and incredibly friendly.


To top it off, we shared the space with two other RVs—and oddly enough, all of us were Winnebago Navion owners. What are the chances?


One of our favorite parts of traveling like this is meeting new and fascinating people, and tonight was no exception. We enjoyed wine and conversation with a couple who, along with their 13-year-old daughter, have been sailing the world off-grid for the past three years, visiting more than sixty countries and even spending time living in Poland. Now, they’re back in the U.S., traveling by RV to reintroduce their daughter to the country they’ve been away from for so long. We were truly inspired by their courage, optimism, and deep family bond.


Harvest Host stays seem to be magnets for great stories. Back in Tennessee, we met another RV couple with a tale that still gives me chills. They had once parked next to a man at a campground who was a bit off, but friendly. He told them about his life as a knife maker and welder, and even gifted them a handmade knife. Months later, they saw his face on the news—he was a wanted fugitive, ultimately killed in a hotel standoff. They contacted the police, showed them the knife… and were allowed to keep it. Which they proudly did—and yes, showed it to us. Let’s just say we didn’t linger too long near that blade. Creepy doesn’t quite cover it.


Tonight, we also met Mark and Skeeter, our first-ever Wisconsin couple, who we’d love to visit when we pass through their area. Another full-time RV couple shared helpful advice and stories, and while theirs were less criminally intense, one of them included the most beautiful romantic gesture I’ve ever heard. They had met a couple celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary, and the wife showed off her card—the same anniversary card her husband had given her fifty years ago. Every year, he adds a new message inside, carefully preserving it as a living, growing love letter.


I turned to Gary and sighed. How could I compete with that? All these years I thought hearts, Xs and Os, and the occasional dog paw print were sweet and meaningful. Suddenly, they felt a little underwhelming. Oh well—at least they’re ours.