Kathryn & Catherine
@thecrookedmile
This is the entirely true story of Catherine, Kathryn and Narnia. Life for us was exactly like it was supposed to be. We ate at nice restaurants, had great jobs and owned a waterfront condo downtown Vancouver. We were almost 50 years old and on track for leading a perfectly respectable life.
One day Catherine came home from work and announced "I'm done. I just don't want to do this anymore." For me the passion had long since left for my job, and city life was wearing on me. Within two weeks our condo was listed and our life paths changed.
The plan was to buy an RV and travel North America for a year, in a year's time we could re-enter the workforce and pick up where we left off. We reasoned that if we have to work until we are 66 rather than 65 because we had this 'gap' year, so be it. Let's live now.
We left Vancouver Island October 2nd and haven't looked back. We have been through two provinces and twenty states in seven months. We have hiked the Great Smokey Mountains, paddled through the Everglades, biked volcanic lava flows, snorkeled coral reefs, photographed wild ponies, soaked in mineral hot springs and drank craft beer and local wine from coast to coast.
The moho (motorhome) has been through a lot too. One time we had skipped lunch, pushing on through California traffic, at three o'clock we pulled off into an off-highway vehicle area to camp. From the video you will see that we should have eaten lunch.
When we told people about our plan to hit the road for a year we received two types of feedback, the first was jealousy, lots of people wished they could do what we were planning to do. The second was that people were worried for our safety, "especially now, especially with Trump as president". Being gay we didn't know exactly what to expect, especially in the southern states. We had heard horror stories, and the truth is that many of the southern states have horrible track records for LGBT rights. But in the beginning of the trip we decided not to let fear lead our lives, we would be wary, but always enter a situation from a place of openness and love. It was all good… until the swamp. (Roll the banjo music.)
We had booked this place on Hipcamp which is a mobile app that advertises unconventional camp spots. We pulled up to an old wooden cabin with a rotting mobile home parked behind. In the front window of the trailer a confederate flag proudly hung. Next to the camp shed was planted a Trump/Pence sign left over from the last presidential election. At that point we could have let fear take the lead but instead we knocked on the cabin door and met some of the nicest people this side of the Mississippi. They had us park our motorhome right next to the river, brought over a wheel barrow full of firewood and chopped a pile of kindling for us. That was all before the shooting happened, gunshots over gunshots. To be fair the daughter came and knocked on our door to warn us that they would be shooting targets in the back of the property and that we shouldn't worry. Yes we stepped out of our comfort zone at that camp, and I like to think that they did too. It is in moments like this where the greatest learning happens.
The biggest challenge for us has been working on the road. We both require internet to be productive but having technology around all the time is at odds with the camping lifestyle we are trying to enjoy. True beauty is in those few places where no wifi signal and no cellular data can be found. In those places we fully disconnect and live the dream.
We're still rolling, follow our adventure at www.thecrookedmile.blog
