Mary
@lettersofpromise
My name is Mary-Elizabeth, I am 35, and I have been traveling solo with my Airstream 16 Sport in tow since December of 2015. I've crossed the country coast to coast more than a few times while looking for America, and I'm still amazed every single day.
I didn't set out to fulltime, it wasn't something I ever dreamt of doing, and it certainly isn't what I thought I'd be doing at 35. My decision to buy a travel trailer was somewhat impulsive. It was only two and a half weeks between deciding to buy a trailer and drive around the US, and owning a brand new, shiny, tiny, Airstream 16 Sport, which I affectionately refer to as "my burrito". I had been lucky to live around the world and travel the globe extensively, but I hadn't experienced much of the US, so I set out to see what there was to see. That's the explanation most people get for how it is I ended up on the road, and it is absolutely true, but it's only half of the story. I was 32 and in the midst of a hard charging and successful career as a Naval Officer when my world came to a crumpling end. I was diagnosed with a disorder that requires lifetime care, and ended the career I had worked so hard for. But it wasn't just a career. Any veteran can tell you that when you leave the service you don't just leave your job; you leave the only friends who understand what you've been through, you leave your entire social structure, your lifestyle, and the sense of purpose that has been driving you. We are warned that transitioning into civilian life will be a challenge for all, and for some, a dangerous time fraught with depression and alcohol abuse. Add to that transition the challenge of coming to terms with managing my health and its affect on every aspect of my life, and it seemed that my initial decision to jump right into a challenging corporate career was probably not the best, no matter how much I wanted to just keep plowing ahead. Living in a tiny travel trailer and taking off for the open road alone was a way for me to take the time to process all of the changes in my life and put a buffer between what was and what was to come. It gave me the chance to be alone in the great "out there" away from the stresses and expectations that come with "normal" life while still keeping my mind and body constantly occupied as I encountered new terrain, new challenges, and new experiences. My choice to live in a small trailer was deliberate as it encourages me to spend more time outside which is good for my mental health, but still enough room for me to hole up for a few days when I'm not doing well. It can also fit places and traverse roads that larger trailers can't, good for my explorer tendencies. I thought I'd be on the road for six months, a year at most. It has been almost 29 months and I'm still at it.
There are a few questions I get asked routinely:
1. Isn't it dangerous traveling alone as a woman?
No. Just no. It is no more dangerous for a woman than it is for a man. Everyone should take the same precautions when it comes to personal safety. Be wary of how much personal information you share with strangers and on social media, lock up your trailer when you're not around, be mindful of food and waste as to not attract animals, and when in bear country, carry bear spray, which also works on people. There are no bands of highwaymen waiting for lady RVers to drive by. Don't drive off the side of a mountain and you'll be just fine.
2. How did you learn to tow that/drive that big truck?
This question used to upset me. Now I just roll my eyes. Fun fact: towing does not require a Y chromosome. The first time I ever towed anything in my life was the day I picked up my Airstream and drove it 9 hours home. How do you tow? Mostly, you just keep driving. Backing up does take a little practice, especially if you have a small trailer, but it doesn't take long to get the hang of it. Be mindful of all of the factors you would when driving and understand how they will affect your particular rig.
3. How do you make money?
I do not currently work and have been living off of my small retirement pension and savings, but I am finally ready to start my next career, even if I am not prepared to give up the mobile life quite yet.
4. Aren't you scared out there alone?
No. Why should I be? Things will break, you will get a flat tire in the literal middle of nowhere, you will have a sewage issue (everyone has a poop story), but being solo is so empowering. You will be amazed at what you can do and what problems you solve when you and what you're carrying are all you have. [JS2]
5. How do you decide where to stay?
I use a variety of resources to figure out where to stay. I avoid campgrounds as much as possible. I don't like being surrounded by strangers, they tend to be noisy, and they attract critters like mice, which I do like but do not want in my trailer, and campgrounds get expensive and I generally don't need the amenities. Water is my limiting factor, but you can usually find drinking water at dump stations. I use the AllStays and Campendium apps, along with recreational atlases, and Google maps and Google earth. Once I've found an area of public land in which I want to camp, whether that is BLM, NFS, WMA etc., I search for the camping rules online. If there is any ambiguity I call the ranger station, district office, or other managing authority and ask. Once I'm sure dispersed camping is ok, I scope out the satellite imagery for the area to identify potential camping locations. The imagery may be old and prove to be obsolete, but it's a good jumping off point. East of the Mississippi it is a lot harder to find readily accessible public lands, but don't discount state run parks and areas. Near urban areas it can become increasingly hard to find free camping, but that doesn't mean you need to stay in a giant RV resort. I've had a great time in Army Corps of Engineers parks for a fraction of the cost of a typical RV park.
6. Aren't you lonely?
In all honesty, rarely if ever. My lack of loneliness is in part due to personality: I am an outgoing introvert that needs alone time to recharge, but it has more to do with learning the worth of experiences long before I ever hit the road. The question you have to ask yourself is this: is the awkwardness or fear you might feel doing something alone worth missing out on the experience? I'd venture to say that 99% of the time the answer is no. I promise that it does get easier to do things solo with time. You don't want to miss out on the things you love or the things you don't even know you like yet just because you didn't have anyone to do it with. Granted, there are times when it would be nice to have a companion to help change the tire yet again, or to laugh at the absurdity of a situation, or marvel at the grandeur of the landscape, or to split the burden of finding a place to camp, and it sure is a lot easier to back a trailer into a tight spot with a second set of eyes. But traveling solo gives me unlimited freedom to pursue whatever interest has my attention at the moment, from rock hounding to foraging, hiking, history, and of course, fly fishing. It also forces me to engage local strangers moreso that if I was traveling with a companion, and as a result, I have learned so much more about the areas I have visited and have had a much more colorful experience overall. Tip: In a small town, find the diner that has the most work trucks or police/fire vehicles in the parking lot at lunch time. Go there, eat at the counter, and strike up a conversation with an old timer. You won't regret it.
Here is my personal list of things I won't travel without:
1. Shovels. I have a collapsible backpacking/avalanche snow shovel and a short handled gardening shovel that I use for rock hounding. They have both been lifesavers in sticky situations.
2. Flashlights. I know I sound like my dad, but you can never have too many light sources. I have flashlights stashed in my truck and trailer, inflatable solar lanterns, magnetic stick on work lights, as well as one large handheld spotlight. About a year into my journey I was driving down a road late on a stormy night that was supposed to lead to an area that allowed overnight parking, a small back way rest stop of sorts, when the road suddenly ended and turned to grass. I couldn't see what was ahead even with my extra truck lights given the density of the pine forest surrounding me and the clouds covering the full moon. Then the clouds parted and I could finally discern what was ahead and beside me. I was in the middle of a cemetery. In the middle of a cemetery in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the middle of nowhere. I purchased a spotlight the next morning and it has been incredibly useful.
3. Air compressor or inflator and tire pressure gauge. You will get a flat and it will probably be well out of cellphone range. You will be glad you have an inflator with you. Also, be a tire pressure vigilante. Check daily and adjust as necessary. Having a little tire inflator means you don't have to find a gas station and deal with the air machine.
4. Pieces of lumber. Foot long sections of 2 by 4 lumber come in handy, whether supporting your jack when having to change a flat on a soft surface, supporting your trailer tongue jack, or keeping your doormat out of the mud. Perpetually useful.
5. Solar Sun Shade. Yes, like the kind you put in your automobile windshield to protect the interior from the sun. Great for reflecting UV rays but especially great as a surface to kneel on or lay on when you're fixing that flat I keep mentioning. The sunshade protects you from cold (or really hot) ground, goat heads, stickers, thorns and other stab plants, sharp rocks, mud or water, and the screen makes it so much easier to slide under your vehicle on your back instead of doing the awkward dying caterpillar crawl.
6. Spray deicer. This is cold weather specific, but the spray cans of deicer are fantastic for freeing hitch locks, pins, sway bars etc. from ice accumulation inherent to winter towing.
7. A tool to fit every nut, bolt, screw, fitting, etc. on your trailer and your hitch/sway bar assembly. It may sound like overkill, but you will be grateful you have those tools.
8. RV toilet paper. Running out in the middle of the woods is a mistake you will only make once.
9. Instant Pot. I am a recent Instant pot convert. I don't have an inverter and I'm rarely plugged in, but I do have a generator that I am willing to run for the 20 min it takes for me to cooks a meal in the instant pot and as a bonus, minimal dishes.
10. On/Off valve for shower. Available at any big box hardware store, the few dollars it cost to buy the valve is nothing to the amount of water you will save showering. The pause function on showerheads still allows a trickle of water, and every drop counts when it comes to boondocking and small water tanks.
11. A sense of humor. Thing will go off the rails at times and it will seem like one thing after another… but it's all part of the adventure.
It took me a while to realize that solo women in the RV world are akin to tropical fish in a bass pond, which is sad. There's so much spectacular and improbable scenery to see and so many experiences to be had, so if any ladies (or men!) are considering solo travel but haven't for any number of reasons, here is my advice to you:
1. Just. Do. It. There will always be detractors when you try something new, and yes, new can be scary, but it is so worth it. Even if you find that solo travel just isn't for you, at least you'll know you CAN do it. When those well meaning people want to warn you about the dangers and potential loneliness, smile, thank them for their input, then hit the open road, you capable and daring person!
2. Know your systems. Electrical, plumbing, sewage, how your converter works, the capacities of your tanks, as well as your maintenance schedule. Get the service manuals if you can as they have actual schematics and not the over simplified versions found in most owners manuals. The goal isn't to be a service technician, but to understand how systems interact so that when something does break or there is an emergency, you know how not to make it worse. Knowledge leads to competence and confidence. The more mystery you can dispel, the more manageable the situation will be when something does fail.
3. Stay curious. If you see or hear of something that sound remotely interesting, go investigate. Take long walks and try to identify plants or rocks. Really observe where you are. If you arrive somewhere already expecting what you're going to get out of location, you'll miss out on the full experience.
4. Relish the solitude. I remember camping at the Trona Pinnacles, which is surreal and otherworldly, and for two days not a single person or vehicle came by despite the geological significance of the site and its proximity to the highway. For two days I ambled around an alien landscape, observed desert wildlife, and watched the most amazing stars. And I had it all to myself. What a gift.
5. Don't over plan. Give yourself the room to be spontaneous. You never know what is around the next bend and opportunities come and go.
6. Trust your gut. If you feel uncomfortable camping somewhere, leave. Whether that's due to forest fires, creepy vibes from unwanted neighbors, or something you just can't put your finger on, trust your gut. My personal rule is I need to be able to be hitched up and ready to tow in five minutes or less dry camping, or 10 min or less when hooked up.
7. Have fun and enjoy the experience!
