chasing the sun

On By marciehall3 Comments

Recently, Dewayne and I drove south into and throughout all of the Florida keys only to have to retreat north again the following day. This drive was much more final than the first. Instead of exclaiming our presence and falling victim to our anticipation, we whispered our goodbyes quietly with each stretch of land and sea. On the road to mainland, we searched between the mile markers for one last glimpse of an oceanside sunset. We were in the birthplace of sunsets, afterall.

It didn’t take much searching for us to register that most of the islands’ western coasts were privately owned. And with this realization, the air in the car became denser and the light all around us moved at a pace we couldn’t quite compete with. Still, we drove and we watched the sky in envy as it prepared for its grand finale. Our spontaneous style leads us on unimaginable adventures, no doubt, but the risk we take is that sometimes we might just barely miss the most beautiful sunset known to man.

As I drive I imagine the sun taking his final bow of the evening and the moon lighting up the stage with her radiant glow. She’s hanging around all night carrying on conversations with old friends and strangers alike. In the morning light their memories will be blurred by the suns morning rays. He’s fully charged now thanks to a long nights rest granted by his tide tugging companion, the moon. The elation that was the night has faded away with the buzz of cheap wine and poorly rolled joints.

Approaching our last island, I realized how the fear of missing the perfect sunset had began robbing us of our joy. In an attempt to restore the moment, I spoke up. “Let’s just relax and enjoy the drive. If we come across somewhere to stop, awesome, but if not, the drive is absolutely stunning anyway.” “Yeah, you’re right.”

So I focused on the present and became more aware of my surroundings. I found appreciation for the beauty right under my nose. I caught glimpses of the light playing on two bodies of water at once. This in itself was magical. It’s as if you’re a kid straddling two state lines for the first time, feeling like you’ve just discovered a superpower of being in two places at once. However, rather than two states, for me, it was these two underwater galaxies separated by a tiny strip of land. And here they were being unmasked by this golden light all around me.

We continued on in soft silence, each of us still scanning the horizon for glimpses of beach, masking our anticipation more acutely than before. Dewayne must have caught a sliver of beach when he shouted out, “Turn around!” So I followed his directions, did what was probably an illegal u-turn in the middle of US 1, and ended up in a seemingly abandoned Salvation Army parking lot. I put the car in park next to a discarded (or maybe donated) queen size mattress.

Behind the building we found a tall, rusty chain link fence that held it’s arms wide open, exclaiming “Come in! I’ve been waiting here for a while.” Obviously knowing the polite thing to do, we welcomed the invitation and crossed the threshhold into the embrace of the ocean’s breeze. We could now hear faint voices being carried to us on the shoulders of the wind. It only made sense for us to trust the locals, so we pursued the voices with a little direction from our new friends.

A short walk later and we were able to match the mysterious voices to both patrons and staff of a dreamy tiki paradise. Some palm trees told us of how they had been eagerly awaiting our arrival. They showed us to a fire that had been prepared for us with two adironback chairs positioned just close enough to prevent chill bumps when the breeze rolls to shore. From our new seats we were granted with a brilliant performance in the sky. The clouds danced in sync with the Cirque du Soleil while the bay proudly reflected the production on its glassy waters for the entire audience to see.

Margarita in hand, I glance over at my partner only to find his gaze is already fixed on me. Neither of us spoke, the light in our eyes said it all. Magic.

dancing with you

On By marciehall2 Comments

Almost a year ago now, I made the decision to uproot my life completely and live in a way that brought me immense peace and joy. I fell madly in love with the road and all of the fellow nomads we met serendipitously along the way. Keller was already experiencing so much more than I had by his age, yet still there were numerous roads to be traveled.

In September, we made the drive home from coast to coast to spend a couple of months visiting with friends and family. The plan was to do a little work on the van and visit until the holidays at the very latest. Honestly, I was eager to put rubber back to the road pretty quickly. However, the Universe looked down at me and smiled her motherly, all knowing smile as if she knew something I didn’t. And boy, did she.

Not too long after our return, I stumbled into the path of a blue eyed, curly headed, Stetson wearin, soul sharing, gigantic hearted man. Our spark was undeniable from the moment he first took my hand and dragged me onto the dance floor. It soon became common to find us dancing barefoot under the carport or in the yard, in the kitchen making our morning coffee, or even in the car while attempting to follow along with Keller’s crazy dance moves. No one can keep up with that kids moves. But sitting right beside me, you’ll find Dewayne bobbing his head and waving his arms in every direction, even if it’s never the right one.

No one has ever come into my life so completely full of love and given it so freely, not only to me, but my child. I have watched for months the friendship these two have curated before my eyes. And let me tell you, it is not such a simple task for a man to befriend a boy completely uninterested in sharing his mama. Yet, Dewayne was patient and persistent at all the right times. It didn’t take long before these two loves of mine were racing scooters at the park and picking me flowers off the side of the road together.

There have been times in the past where I believed I knew what love was, but I was wrong. I’ve made many mistakes, had so many uncertainties, and been faced with so many challenges along the way. These experiences created new insights for me that put me in alignment with my values and ignited a new self love. It is now more clear to me than ever how important it is for us to wholly and completely love ourselves individually before we are able to share that love with someone else.

So unwilling to part, Dewayne and I spent hours and hours attempting to envision the future we would have with me and Keller on the road and him in Tennessee. Some of our ideas were brilliant while others were extremely laughable, but none of them would really put us anywhere near one another for months at a time. We both knew we were going to make this work no matter how and we both knew that we weren’t going to allow the other to sacrifice their dreams to do it.

We finally decided that together, we would all stay in Tennessee for the time being. If you’ve been one of the ones to notice the lack of my adventure tales or everchanging landscapes, here is your why. I fell in love. Deeply, soulfully, honestly in love. I have found a partner who is the truest of counterparts and has dreams sometimes even madder than mine. Our travels have and will continue sporadically, and there are even talks of another van project in the near future (which I cannot WAIT for, duh!)!

But for now, I want to leave you with some other news. You see, this man I found would wrangle the moon for me if he could. I know this without a doubt in my mind. So when he asked for my hand on Mother’s Day (I knew he wasn’t wearing his dancing shoes), I didn’t hesitate not a once because I’m damn sure his is the melody I want to spend the rest of my life dancing to.

but why?

On By marciehall

IMG_2839

As you can probably imagine, I get a lot of questions regarding my lifestyle choices. And I have been thinking (for a while) of the best way to answer all of them. For the most part, I plan to do just that- over time. Starting with the most recent question and probably the most important- why? Recently someone came across my story through a mutual friend and made it clear that my lifestyle gives her anxiety. In her exact words, “Why would you want to do this?!” So I’m here to explain my why.

For anyone who thinks I have found all of life’s answers, have (finally) got it all together, or set out on this journey with a detailed, step by step plan, I’m here to bust your bubble. I haven’t, I don’t, and I didn’t. I took a huge leap of faith when I decided to bail on my Ferris wheel life back in Georgia. There were some things I knew for certain, and others I walked blindly towards.

I knew I wanted my son to grow up with a larger expanse of experiences than I did. I knew I wanted to oversee his learning and development. I knew I wanted to spend more time with him than I did working. I knew my anxiety and depression had taken a deep dive and were causing me more trouble than ever before. I knew I had a dream of living an alternative lifestyle. I knew I wanted to show others that there are more ways to live than the 9 to 5 lives we are primed to walk into without question. I also knew that I was capable of living my dream if only I took the first step and gained that forward momentum.

Back in April, I took a six-week medical leave from work. My anxiety and depression had become so intense that I was having trouble getting out of bed, struggling to be social and interactive with the people I love and care about, my career was stifling, and I felt I was failing. But I wasn’t failing, and reflecting back on it now, I know this. I was working diligently at building a career I had accidentally walked into almost 10 years earlier, I was doing my damndest to raise a smart, kind-hearted boy, and I was living my life with my mind wide open and my heart on my sleeve. But the leech that is mental illness was still holding me back.

At the beginning of my leave from work, my doctor and I talked about my goals for my time off. My main focus was healing and working on some practices and treatment that would ensure I would return to the world of 9 to 5 stronger and more capable of managing the constant influx of heavy thoughts and emotions I was experiencing. During this time away, I worked really hard to get to the root of my illness and make amends. As the weeks crept on and my time to return approached, I realized that the lifestyle I was living was not conducive to my wants, needs, or values. This may not have been the single source, but I have quickly come to realize that living a life that doesn’t align with your values will cause anyone mental illness- no matter who you are. Holding strong beliefs in having complete control over my own happiness, I rapidly decided I had to make some changes.

So what are my values and goals that make living in a 60 square foot van enticing?

Minimalism: Living in a van (or any tiny space) requires you to live minimally and be very intentional with the items that you own. This means no useless ‘things’ just to fill empty voids on my walls or shelves. This means no overspending or online shopping late at night when I’m bored. This means giving less meaning to my things and more meaning to my experiences and relationships.

Connections: Throwing my home on some wheels also meant being mobile and forging new connections throughout the country. I thrive off of meeting and learning about people from all corners of the world, so why not start with all corners of the country? I believe meaningful connections are crucial to our livelihood and happiness. I also believe that they can be scarce. I never want to question the connections I made in my life or the opportunities I gave Keller to make his own.

Time: I wanted my life to be more driven by purpose and intention and less by stress and anxiety. Living with less allows me to realize how valuable my time is and how much more attentively I can spend it. I now enjoy the simple act of handwashing the dishes, cooking a meal, or just making coffee. I do each of these things with more mindfulness than ever before.

Growth: I have always tried my hardest to live with an open mind. No matter how unbiased I believe I may be living, I know that there is always more to experience that will open my eyes just a bit wider. This has proven true. I am learning and growing every single day, and the more I immerse myself in, the more growth I find on the other side.

Gratitude: There are so many studies out there that show the positive correlation between practicing gratitude and our health and happiness. In our journeys, we are able to see how other people live, experience life without a lot of the things we have grown accustomed to having, and realize the things we need versus the things we think we need. This allows us to feel gratitude all the way to our core. When you are in the desert and getting water from a well every time you want to take a shower, wash some dishes, or just make a pot of coffee, you gain a much better understanding of why you should turn the water off when you brush your teeth (among many other ways you should conserve water, but that’s another topic for another day). You also feel an overwhelming gratitude for that well and for the people who help you get water from that well. When you are more intentional, you intrinsically become more grateful.

In the company I previously worked for, I was taught to believe that my work aligned with my values. I attempted to convince myself of this time and time again, but it never quite added up. I truly believe that the work I was doing does align with some peoples’ values and that those people are doing great things in their careers. But once I was able to reject the idea that I was working for something I truly had a passion and purpose for, I knew my exit would follow soon after.

Though living small and traveling has been a longtime dream, I honestly never gave it a second thought. My life was wrapped up in being a single parent, managing a chronic illness (T1D), owning a car and a house, working 40 plus hour weeks, and providing for my little family. Following through with something so contrasting to the life I had created seemed a far off fantasy. I never thought myself actually capable. Until the day I decided I was capable. Until I reassured myself that any dream is within arms reach if you only take the leap. And so, I did.

driving east

On By marciehall

The journey back east has been an emotional roller coaster for me. As I inched closer and closer to Tennessee, I could feel a heaviness growing in my chest. I spent three days driving and crying through Texas, Oklahoma, and Arkansas before pulling into the driveway of the house that, until recently, I called home.

When I started my trek back I knew it was going to feel a little funky, but I never could have imagined the intensity of the funk. Dynamics had definitely changed since I left. My house was no longer my home, my friends were surely doing their own things and having a great time without me, my old job had been filled by someone new. It was a little hard not to feel replaced, even though this was the life I had chosen. I couldn’t help but experience a looming sadness as I left behind all of the extraordinary people I had met and fallen in love with out west. The long and lonely drive home only fueled my emotional state. Anxiety crept back in as I returned to a familiar place feeling a little unfamiliar with myself.

As all of these thoughts and feelings swirled around in my inventive imagination, I remembered something I had recently been practicing- sitting with my emotions, stresses, and anxieties rather than reacting to them. And how incredible it has been to be able to apply such a powerful practice to my daily life. So I made use of my long drive across the country and did just that. Being on the road so often truly allows me and my thoughts to get to know one another on a level I hadn’t before experienced.

Toward the last leg of my drive, I had a little chit chat with my tears. I finally understood. This was my first endeavor back into a world I’d basically just peaced out of without a second thought. When I left, I didn’t just bail on corporate life and a conventional home. I also buried my anxiety and depression somewhere deep in the Appalachian foothills. Going east didn’t exactly feel like going home at first. It felt more like intentionally driving back into a thick fog I had only recently managed to escape. I began to realize I was having apprehensions of a nice, long vacation approaching its conclusion. Did I have to unpack, settle in and return to a fluorescent lit office on Monday? No. “This isn’t vacation. This is your life,” I repeated over and over to myself.

So when you see me and ask me, “How was your trip?” I’ll proudly remind you that this isn’t a means to an end. Nothing is ending. This is still only the beginning.

freckled sky

On By marciehall1 Comment

I lay in bed and count Keller’s freckles as his chest rises and falls slowly to the rhythm of his breaths. The stars are hypnotizing tonight and they cause me to wander aimlessly through the landscape. In an attempt to ground myself and not get lost in the sky, I crawled into bed beside my heart that beats outside of my chest. I find myself drawn to the stars on his cheeks even more so than the ones I’d just abandoned outside. There is a milky way that runs diagnally across his face. It doesn’t take me long to find the big dipper resting on his rosy cheek. From there I follow along as it leads me to the North star, the star which tells me I’m in fact going the right way.

undress

On By marciehallLeave a comment

Questions and comments I will receive after this post:

1. Who took that photo?

2. Marcie take it down!

3. DM’s from people who are suddenly interested in my life.

4. Family members swapping texts with one another remarking how they can’t believe I’d post such a thing. …And a multitude of others I presume.

So why even bother? To me this is a representation of a new beginning and of self love. This body has been stricken with disease, created and birthed a human, climbed mountains, carried a child miles and hours through forests just to share the magic, lugged pounds of snacks and medical supplies up and down trails for days just to prove I could, been broken and been tested time and time again and shown resilient every single time.

I am so happy to have left behind bras (and sometimes pants), hairbrushes (sorry, Hope), stress and anxiety, facades, and cookie cutter goals. In the middle of the desert, the coyotes hold no judgement, the deer don’t care when I showered last, and the breeze in the valley wraps her arms around me in an embrace everytime she says hello.

This body is mine to nurture. This body is mine to love. This body is mine to live in. This body belongs to no one – but me.

So the question shouldn’t be why bother – the question should be why are we constricting and contorting ourselves to fit into someone elses box?

Here I am, in my element, inhaling the bliss surrounding me and exhaling everything that is beyond my control. Maybe you oughtta give it a shot?

steadfast

On By marciehall2 Comments

Last night we parked off of a forest service road in Crested Butte near a downed tree and a hefty stump, both which were preventing us from going any further. After watching multiple cars pull up and turn around, I decided to hike down past the obstacles to see what there was to see. A little ways down the steep, rocky trail was a beautiful meadow with a collection of ponds. I knew I had to wake up there the next morning, obstacles be damned.

I marched back up to those two characters who thought they’d put a damper on my night, grabbed on tightly to that stumps arms and dragged him across my path and into the ditch, dusting my hands off in a bit of a celebratory way when I was done. Moving on to the tree resting nearby, I picked her up a bit more softly and gently than I had her companion, lifted her lightly, carrying her to the side of the road to be reunited with her friend, the stump, once again.

Feeling strong and empowered, I headed back to the van, loaded her up, and turned the wheel toward the road where once blocked by our dearest mother nature, was clear and inviting. The task of hefting the fallen trees was a piece of cake compared to actually rolling the van down the steep, jagged hills. Approaching the peak of our first downhill crawl, I hesitated. There were ditches on either side of the road, big enough for me to stand in, and a deep trench down the center which would only allow the left tires a narrow track to the bottom. One wrong move and we’d be slippin’ and slidin’ the whole way to camp.

Moving forward, I placed my hands on ten and two, sat up straight in my seat, and pointed Wanda directly to her lane. She hopped and she jerked and she rolled slowly right into the level patch of dirt patiently awaiting her arrival. We did it! Just in time to see the sun wave goodnight and the mosquitoes eagerly come out of hiding to welcome us home.

What a lovely community hidden here deep in the Elk range of Crested Butte, only the steadfast welcome.

books that excite me

On By marciehall2 Comments

I have always been really excited by books. I am in love with finding new perspectives and motivation in the pages of someone elses thoughts. So I thought I’d share a few with you here that have captured me, motivated me, or inspired me into action. I hope you enjoy!

You are a Badass at Making Money – Jen Sincero

Jen makes some really great points about how our perception of money is corrupt and how we can change our thoughts on the topic. Through changing our thoughts, we are truly able to change our relationship with money.

Orange is Optimism – Kit Whistler

orange is optimism.png

I have been meaning to order this book for quite some time now, but never really got around to. It just so happens that I recently won it in a raffle and got the chance to chat with Kit herself! To be completely honest, I was expecting to find something much different in these pages. I kind of assumed (I know, my bad) that I would find more stories about van life, travel, and living on the road. However, what I actually found were incredibly magical stories written by Kit in a way that I am constantly left wondering what is real and what is a fairytale. She has an awful special talent for writing and storytelling that I wish I would have discovered sooner!

The Obstacle is the Way – Ryan Holiday

This book changed the way I view difficult times in my life. I was challenged to overcome difficult and impossible situations with growth in mind. It has truly helped me focus only on the things I can control while allowing everything else to just be. Through this book, I believe we can all learn something about turning our obstacles into opportunities.

Escape Everything – Robert Wringham

So, kinda funny story, Keller (aka his uncle Zach) bought me this book for Mother’s Day. I had never heard of the book or the author, but it sounded kind of up my alley. So on a day that I was feeling particularly down and out, I cracked it open and began to read. I am not exaggerating the least little bit when I tell you that before I even finished this book I had quit my job, traded in my car for a van, and sold all of my belongings to hit the road. Extreme, I know. And I won’t say that this book was the end all be all for the path I chose, but it definitely gave me the shove I was looking for. Wringham challenges the way we think about work in present times. He sheds light on the history of work and how it has become so engulfing. There is a way to break free and find the freedom and happiness we are all searching for, and Robert tries to help us do just that.

The Four Hour Workweek – Timothy Ferris

Timothy Ferris challenges the dogma of work and retirement. Basically, why work for 40 years with hopes of a happy and fulfilling retirement, when you can take your retirement over time. Work for a few months if you’d like, then take six months off to “retire.” Enjoy it throughout your years instead of waiting for a day and time that may or may not ever come.

Braving the Wilderness – Brene Brown

This was the first Brene Brown book that I had ever read. Brene is a goddess of truth and a vanquisher of bullshit (at least in my eyes). This book is about what it means to truly belong. She tells about how much easier it is to fit in than it is to show up as our true selves. She speaks of courage, vulnerability, love, belonging, shame and empathy. She digs deep into these taboo topics and connects them all together to show us how we can live a brave and meaningful life.

What books have you really dived into lately? I am always on the lookout for recommendations! Leave me a comment with any suggestions you may have!

community

On By marciehallLeave a comment

We have been on the road for a little over three weeks now and, I have to admit, I have gotten a little lonely at times. This isn’t anything unexpected or surprising to me, but that doesn’t necessarily make it sting any less.

This past weekend we were incredibly lucky to be able to attend the 2019 Teton Valley Van Gathering. To be honest, I had no idea what to expect but knew that in order to find a community and learn more about this new lifestyle, I had to put myself out there. So we loaded up and headed over to Victor, ID to see what all the fuss was about. I assumed we would find souped up vans and expert van-lifers that would put our bare bones home to shame. However, what we actually found was a community of genuinely hospitable people from every walk of life.

We met a family with two young girls around Keller’s age who had turned their van into a mini mobile vacation home. The kids immediately hit it off and spent the entire weekend joined at the hip. Right away I was ecstatic that my tireless seven year old had met his match. They rode bikes, made bows and arrows from sticks and grass, chased all of the dogs, and even picnicked together. This mama was beaming from the inside out!

Our neighbors ranged from part-time van dwellers to nomads with years of experience. There were people with basic vans, souped up vans, and even no vans! Some folks were sleeping in their trucks, cars, campers or even tents. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this tribe I had found was all-inclusive. These were good people.

The weekend included two communal meals that allowed us to get close and spark new friendships. There were multiple group conversations around mental health (which is SOOO important to me), general van life, and the connection between Leave No Trace and van dwelling. I was compelled by the candor of everyone engaged in the heavy conversations. It felt refreshing to be surrounded by people so dedicated to sharing, learning, and growing with one another. We had yoga, meditation, live music, and even a onesie dance party!

Since the event, we have stayed in contact and even continued to caravan and camp together in new locations. I know that no matter where we go or what we do, we will have this incredible community behind us.

For anyone interested in seeing what van life is all about – come out to the next Van Life gathering in Basalt, CO July 12. No van necessary. Hope to see ya there!

(Photo taken by my wonderfully talented van neighbor, Claire Lawler)

sand in reinforcements

On By marciehallLeave a comment

Sunday started out as another beautiful day. It was sunny and warm with a slight breeze blowing through the valley. We had plans to make a few minor renovations to the van before heading out to the Great Sand Dunes National Park with our hosts and good friends, Matt and Christo. It would be my first time visiting the park, and Keller’s first National Park ever. Of course, being the mom that I am, I made a big deal of this. I peppered him with comments about the mountains of sand, sandboarding, and a creek with foot tall waves – all with the hope of making him more eager for the trip. He dressed himself that morning in sweat pants, long sleeves, and hiking boots – not the best way to dress for the days events, but there was no changing his mind. He took pride in dressing himself.

After morning chores (mostly done by the guys while I soaked up the sun and lost myself in a book), we loaded up the car with water, snacks and our dusty dog and made our way to the park. Our first stop was the visitors center. As we opened our car doors we were immediately blasted with strong, chilling winds- not what we had prepared for or expected. We ran inside to escape the cold and give ourselves a history lesson on the sacred dunes, hoping the winds would die down in the meantime.

(The massive mounds of sand were formed over tens of thousands of years by southwest winds blowing exposed sand toward the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Truly, a wonder of the world.)

Once we realized the weather wasn’t going to give in anytime soon, we decided to load back up into the car and head toward the dunes anyway. We scavenged the car for all the layers of clothing we could find. Digging through backpacks and the trunk, we came up with a couple of flannels, one fleece pullover, and a rain jacket for each of us. Keller swapped his boots for sandals and I chose to stick with the boots I was wearing, throwing my Chacos in my pack just in case.

All layered up, we headed toward the creek. There we found people playing in the sand and in the water (a product of the snow runoff from the mountaintops), barefoot or in some type of sandal as if they were oceanside rather than The Center of Nowhere, US. Everyone stuck their toes in, testing it before the mandatory crossing to the dunes. Still, I decided to keep my boots on to cross. The water didn’t seem so high and my boots were waterproof anyways. I loaded Keller up on my back (he wasn’t a huge fan of the icy body of water), and started crossing. Not even three feet into the wide stretch to the other side, a surge of water came halfway up my calves and flooded my boots. So much for that idea. I continued across, my wet, cold socks squishing beneath my feet. Not a big deal, I had extra shoes for reasons such as this. I figured once across, I’d just swap my boots out and problem solved.

When we made it across the wind seemed to be even stronger than before, making it difficult for us to communicate with one another. Keller hopped off my back and ran toward the dunes, clearly in awe of what he was seeing. Me, Cash, Matt, and Christo followed behind. The closer we got to the dunes, the windier it got. “Know what I didn’t even think about?” I yelled up ahead, “The sand stinging your legs?” One of my friends called back, obviously feeling my pain. Still, just a little sting. Again, no big deal. Shorts weren’t the wisest choice in attire, but I’d dealt with much worse. At least I thought.

Now Keller was getting much further ahead. The sand didn’t seem to bother him, as he just so happened to have dressed much more appropriately than the rest of us. I called to him and yelled to him, but he never turned around. The wind was too loud and drowned out every attempt I made.

The further in we walked, the stronger and more persistant the stinging of the sand became. Up ahead, I saw Matt motioning for me to take my backpack off and lower it behind my legs. I did, but this wasn’t enough to keep the pelting sand away. Seeming to be in sync, we all fell to our knees and ducked our heads, covering our faces. The stinging had become so intense that we couldn’t go on. I now felt as if skin was being ripped from my legs. I continued to call to Keller, thinking he had no idea what was going on, his pants and long sleeves masking the pain. When I looked up to call again, he was walking backward toward me. The closer he got, the more I realized I was wrong. He was feeling it – and feeling it all. I heard him screaming and crying for me. It was terrifying. If you’re a parent, you know the difference between a “boo-boo” cry and a shrilling cry of pain and terror. This was the latter. My heart sank.

I ran to him through the sand, grabbed him and pulled him into my chest and blocked him from the wind and sand, holding on as tight as possible. My friends immediately followed suit, lining up behind us attempting to form a wall protecting me and Keller from the elements. At this point, we all silently agreed we had to get out of there. It was only getting worse. Matt took my backpack and handed me his rainjacket to drape over Keller’s exposed feet and face. Christo took Cash’s leash from me so I could focus all of my attention on my horrified child.

We decided the only way out was to walk backward as fast as we could toward the creek. This meant more exposure to the sand. I picked Keller up in my arms and attempted to walk backward, guided by my incredible friends. Only making it a couple of feet, I had to immediately fall back down to my knees. I didn’t think I could do it. Someone is going to have to come to get me or I am going to lay here in the sand until the storm is gone. “Come on, only twenty more feet,” I heard in my ear. With Keller still screaming and curled into my chest, I got up off of my knees again and walked backward counting my steps. This was NOT twenty feet. I stopped, fell back to the ground, and attempted to catch my breath. I could see Christo carrying my 90lb fur child in his arms. These guys could have long been back across the creek, but they chose to stay with me and Keller, ensuring we would make it. These are good people.

Once more, I stood up. This time I wasn’t going to stop until I reached the water. Walking as fast as I could, I took one deep breath after the other. Still being guided by Matt, we reached the creek. With the stinging beginning to subside, I set Keller down beside the water to catch my breath again, but he was still screaming in terror. We still had to get across the water. For the last time, I pulled him to my chest and dodged through the creek. I paid no attention to the depth or the surges that were coming through, something I had carefully watched as I crossed before. I went straight through a deep current, almost being knocked off of my feet multiple times, but I held steady. We made it.

While walking back to the car I stopped to finally take off my waterlogged boots. I unlaced them, pulled them off of my feet, and turned them upside down sending cups of water splashing onto the ground beside me. I stared down at my legs expecting to see blood or streaks of deep red wounds covering them. Nothing. There was nothing. I won’t pretend like I wasn’t a little pissed that after all the drama, I had nothing to show for it. It was brutal.

I don’t think any of us said much to one another right away about what had just happened. I honestly don’t think any of us really knew what had just happened. Our silent walk back to the car was enough. But once we loaded back up to head toward camp, I couldn’t help but to immediately blast “Sandstorm” through the cars speakers in attempt to lighten the mood. It was over. We were out. And we cursed the dunes the whole way home.

Regardless of our first experience, I definitely want to go back to visit under better circumstances and with a little more preparation. However, it’s going to take me a long time to convince Keller to go anywhere near those mountains of sand again. For now, I’ll check this National Park off of my list. ✅