Rivers and Roads

Disclaimer/Spoiler Alert: Just like the last post, I’ve decided to write this next leg of my journey just as it happened.  That includes a lot of details about a relationship that doesn’t work out.  Although it’s hard to look back at, it all works out the way it’s supposed to.

My drive to Terlingua, Texas was pretty brutal.  I was exhausted from a late night with a new friend and from traveling back to Michigan.  I was breaking my 2-hour driving rule and pushing the limits on how far I could drive.  I was taking 15-minute gas station naps and trying to get to Texas to be with the guy I was now calling my boyfriend.

I was excited and nervous as I made the last turn towards Terlingua, a tiny town on the Rio Grande, near Big Bend National Park.  There was so much build up to this reunion and I couldn’t wait to be back with the one person who enhanced my happiness more than anyone else.

He has a wandering soul like mine and he often refers to himself as “homeless” since he lives the dirtbag lifestyle like me.  Dirtbag is the term used to describe anyone who lives alternatively to pursue a passion or lifestyle.  It typically involves going against societal norms and giving up most modern comforts like a house, daily showers, and an employer-provided health insurance plan.  He has always been restless and ready to wander to the next place until he got to Terlingua.  For the first time in his life, he found a place that felt like home.  I was excited to explore this area and discover why it was such a special spot for him.

We went and grabbed dinner and I got to meet some of the friends that he considers his family.  Dakota got to join us while we hung out and waited for a table and then we stuck her in his truck while we ate dinner.  After dinner, we were walking to the truck and I saw the silhouette of a dog in the headlights of a car making its way through the parking lot.  I commented that it looked just like Dakota, but that would be impossible since she was in the truck.  We arrived at the truck and opened the door to find it empty.  We had cracked the windows and had left the tiny sliding window to the bed of the truck open, which is how Dakota managed to escape.  My best guess is that she panicked when it started raining so she squeezed out the tiny back window.  Luckily, she’s not the type of dog to run away, so she stayed close enough and ran to us as soon as I called her name.  She was pretty freaked out after her mini adventure, so she rode all the way back to the van while sitting in my lap in the front seat.  Dakota sure kicked off our new adventure the most exciting way possible.

The next day I got to join on an ATV trip that my boyfriend was guiding.  I hadn’t been on an ATV since I was a kid and it was a blast to venture through the desert and see him in action, telling stories and pointing out interesting things along the way.  I also enjoyed pretending to be a guide and jumping in to help guests when I could.  Who knows, maybe that’s a career path somewhere in my future.

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My boyfriend was heading out on the river for the next two days for his last trip of the season, so I’d be on my own to adventure around Terlingua.  The weather was unbearably hot, hitting almost 100 degrees each day, which was really hard in a van.  I did my best to adventure as soon as I finished working each morning to avoid the peak temperatures, but it was already too hot for Dakota by mid-morning. 

We had just been to Big Bend National Park about a month earlier, so I didn’t feel the need to visit again (plus it would be too hot to leave Dakota behind and there are no dog-friendly trails).  Instead, we made our way to Big Bend Ranch State Park, which is just as beautiful but a bit less touristy. 

Our first adventure was to Closed Canyon Trail.  I figured a slot canyon would be our best bet for hiking in the shade.  Unfortunately, the ground was incredibly hot, so Dakota and I ended up running from shade spot to shade spot.  The canyon was stunning though, and I enjoyed adventuring with my sidekick and exploring the place that might end up being home for the winter. 

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We were fortunate to be able to stay at a house while we were in Terlingua after discovering that I couldn’t get a reliable signal for work.  Not only did this allow me to continue working but it also provided us a place to sleep with air conditioning, which Dakota and I were both incredibly thankful for.

I spent that evening in the park, watching the sunset and enjoying my last night alone for a long time (or so I thought).  I was nervous about this next chapter and also insanely excited.  Our plan was to stay in Terlingua for the next few days while he tied up loose ends, packed, and showed me some of his favorite spots.  Then we’d caravan to Colorado in time for him to begin the summer season of river guiding.

I was worried about how I’d adjust to having someone else around and to staying in a more centralized location.  I planned to still travel solo most weeks, but I’d be mostly traveling around Colorado in order to spend time with him when he had days off.  Although I knew it would be an adjustment, I was excited to see how my adventure would transform and how I’d grow in new ways.

Dakota and I had most of the next day solo again, so we attempted another adventure in the state park.  We went to the Hoodoos Trail but it was so hot again that we ended up down by the river and spent a large part of our day in the Rio Grande to stay cool.

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This area is so interesting because on one side of the Rio Grande is the US and the other side is Mexico.  You can stand right in the middle of the river and be on the border of both.  In an attempt to not get too political, it’s hard to see where a wall would fit into this landscape or even where it would be erected.  “The border” is literally the middle of the river and any wall put up on our side of the river now cuts off our access to this beautiful spot.  I’ll leave it at that for now.

The next day my boyfriend was back from his trip and we spent the day having a typical Terlingua adventure.  It is such a small town, filled mostly with river guides, so everywhere you go you run into someone you know.  This meant that our plans for the day took a slight detour as we ran into people he knew and soon I found myself helping to auction off items for a fundraiser at a local bar. 

In a few weeks there would be a big event in Lajitas, Texas called Voices from Both Sides.  This town and the Mexican town across the Rio Grande have really struggled with increasing border regulations.  The two towns always relied heavily on each other and never really saw the border as a border.  Increased border regulations in this spot have split families and friends and have made things like getting groceries or gas increasingly more difficult. 

During Voices, there are stages set up on the US side and the Mexican side.  Bands play back and forth as adults and kids meet in the river, reuniting old friends and coming together again as a community.  I was honored to be part of the fundraiser for Voices from Both Sides. I could see how much this event means to the people of this area and I got to listen to some of the stories of the relationships they used to have with the people across the Rio Grande.  Being in that area for the actual event would have been life-changing, I’m sure.

After the fundraiser, we had to find a way to beat the heat.  We soaked in the river at a local spot where we enjoyed some cold beers and Dakota made some puppy friends to chase along the river.  The rest of the evening was spent hopping from bar to bar, enjoying Terlingua and our time together.

A few days later we started our trek to Colorado.  Our first stop was Alpine, the next city outside of Terlingua, in order to finish tying up some loose ends.  Dakota and I had spent a night here after we left Big Bend last time.  We were in need of an adventure, so we went to the Chihuahuan Desert Research Institute Nature Center for a little hike.  We met up with some friends that evening and journeyed to the McDonald Observatory for a Star Party.  Here we learned about the constellations and got to view the sky through several different telescopes. 

Then it was time to really hit the road.  And this is when everything changes.  I’ve thought about how much I want to share and about whether I really even understand what happened.  From the moment we left Texas, everything was different. 

We started on a similar path to the one I took out of Big Bend, making our way to the campsite I had stayed at outside of Carlsbad, New Mexico.  There were caves at that campsite and Dakota enjoyed being a caver as we made our way into each entrance just a little bit since there aren’t any lights.

The next day we pushed all the way to Albuquerque.  I had skipped Albuquerque on my own since I had been there a few years ago.  We ended up seeing a movie premier for a fascinating documentary called “The River and the Wall.”  My boyfriend knew some of the people in the documentary and part of it takes place in Terlingua, so he had a vested interest in seeing it.  The documentary follows 5 people as they journey the length of the Texas/Mexico border along the Rio Grande.  They trek via mountain bike, horse, and canoe as they look at the spots that already have a wall, the impact it has, and the actual implications of erecting a wall along that entire border.  They look at it not only from an immigration perspective but also from an environmental one, investigating the impact it will have on wildlife and what will happen if we lose our access to the Rio Grande.  The documentary was incredibly well done, and I HIGHLY recommend seeing it if you have the chance.

In Albuquerque, things took a turn for the worst on the relationship front and I ended up journeying solo for a while.  I was pretty hurt and heartbroken as I continued north towards Colorado alone. Looking back, this should have been when I turned towards Utah, but I like to learn lessons the hard way.  My stubborn heart wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.  It made excuses for bad behavior and encouraged me to keep going towards Colorado in the hopes that he’d still want to be with me after some time apart.

In the meantime, I stopped back in Taos, New Mexico.  I came through here back in October, shortly after hitting the road.  During my time there I had visited a family-friend for dinner, but now his brother also lived there too.  I hadn’t seen him in probably over 10 years, so we had a bit of catching up to do!  I’m not sure there could have been anything better for me that night than catching up with an old friend, drinking (too much) at a local bar, and getting my butt kicked at pool.  I certainly paid for it the next morning after just one hour of sleep and a full morning of work.

From Taos I went to Great Sand Dunes National Park in Colorado.  Dakota and I hiked the sand dunes and she made a scene by getting the crazies and trying to dig a hole to the bottom of the dunes.  We found a lovely, secluded campsite for the night and my heart was feeling full and refreshed although I was still unsure about the future of my relationship.

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The next morning, I took Dakota for a little adventure to a Zapata Falls, which was still mostly frozen.  This hike required hopping from boulder to boulder until you reached the falls.  At one point, I bent down and braced myself on the rock with my hands.  As I stood back up, I heard a “plop” and I looked down to see my phone at the bottom of the creek.  I instantly panicked as I thought about how impossible vanlife would be without my phone.  I never thought about just how much I rely on that little device for nearly everything I do on the road.  Luckily, these new phones are decently waterproof, so it was just fine, but it gave me a bigger appreciation for all the original vanlifers who did this before technology!

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After our visit to the falls, which had also required a 3 mile trek down a road that probably wasn’t meant for Forrest, we pointed the van towards Kremmling, Colorado, which was supposed to be home for the summer. 

Plans at this point were still very up in the air, and around the time I got to Leadville I realized I would need to find a place to stay for the night around there.  I don’t usually have too solid of a plan, but after many months on the road, I’ve learned that I’m happiest when I have an idea of where I’ll be spending the night as well as a backup plan in case plan A doesn’t work.  I don’t like waiting too late in the evening to find camp, but here I was scrambling to find a place as I was beginning to run out of daylight. 

Each dirt road I turned down was still to snowy and muddy, so campgrounds were closed, and roads were impassable.  This stress and the uncertainty of my relationship made for a very anxious Jenny.  But luckily, if there’s anything I’ve learned after all this time on the road, it’s that persistence and staying calm go a LONG way for solving problems.  So soon enough, I pulled into my tiny campsite for the night.  I poured a glass of wine and took an evening stroll through one of the most beautiful backyards I’ve had so far on this journey.

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The next morning, I was dying for a shower.  I hadn’t showered since I was in Terlingua and the shower situation in Kremmling didn’t seem real promising.  I found an aquatic center nearby and was able to swim some laps (which is REALLY hard at 10,000 feet above sea level) and get a much-needed shower before making the final push to Kremmling.

In Kremmling, I had convinced myself that my relationship was going to work.  If nothing else, I was determined to make it work.

It wasn’t long before I was trying to remember what it felt like to be too hot in order to appreciate the fact that I was now too cold.  Spring hadn’t seemed to really settle into Colorado yet and overnight temps dipped into the 30s again.  Luckily, I have 4 seasons worth of clothes with me, so I dug out the snow boots and winter coat and retired the sandals once more. 

Kremmling is a small town about an hour south of Steamboat Springs.  It has about 5 places to eat, 2 gas stations, and a bunch of river guides.  It’s similar to Terlingua in the sense that most of the population is seasonal and you can’t go anywhere without running into someone you know. 

My boyfriend was gearing up for the beginning of the summer guiding season and he had a lot of work to do, so days were mostly spent keeping myself busy on my own.  I had been parking out in front of where he worked and living out of a parking lot was quickly making me crazy.  He typically spends the summer camping on public lands out there but most of those spots don’t have a cell signal, so I was stuck living parking lot life in order to work each morning. 

During the days, I’d take Dakota out for as much adventure as we could find.  Kremmling got some snow shortly after I arrived, which made adventuring down unknown dirt roads a bit riskier.  I got to tag along with all the guides for a crawfish boil in Breckenridge and I spent many evenings drinking beer and playing Monopoly Deal with the guides in the shop.  Playing any sort of card game with a professional poker player isn’t fun unless you enjoy losing.

I was missing my typical adventures and normal campsites, but I was doing my best to be patient during this transition to Colorado.  I knew everything would be different once the season started and the weather warmed up, but for the time being I wasn’t doing the things I typically did on the road.  I wasn’t my happiest and was definitely struggling to feel like myself.

We were gearing up for a big river trip with all the guides to kick off their season.  Dakota and I would be tagging along, and I was so excited to finally spend some time on the river.  It was a four-day trip, but my best friend was flying into Salt Lake City to meet me for an adventure we had planned long before we knew I’d be on the river.  In order to do it all, I’d be dropping Forrest off down the river where I’d be able to pick him up a day early and I’d hit the road to make it back to SLC that night.

Dakota and I had never been on the river before, so a day before the trip we tagged along on a training outing with my boyfriend and two of the new guides.  Dakota quickly learned the wrong way to stand on a raft and fell into the river, having to be pulled back into the raft out of the cold water.  I learned the basics of paddling and got a better glimpse into the life of a river guide. 

While I loved being on the river and it filled my adventure bucket, I was having doubts about going on that river trip.  I feared that if things got worse on the trip, I’d be stuck in a situation I didn’t want to be in with a bunch of people I didn’t know and no way to leave. 

I spent that night alone, away from the parking lot where my boyfriend worked.  I found a spot with a cell signal along a quiet reservoir where I snuggled in next to my puppy and did a bit of soul-searching.  For the first time in over a week I felt happy.  Being alone with my dog had me feeling more like myself than I had in a while.  I hadn’t truly realized how much pressure and stress I had been under trying to fit into someone else’s life and meet someone’s unrealistic expectations.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know my heart hasn’t had it easy on this journey.  I’ve worked really hard to heal and to love myself for exactly who I am.  A lot of my wounds from past relationships have played out this fear story in my head that I’m not enough.  I’ve found myself trying to change to be whatever my significant other needed so that I could be loved.  It has taken a long time for me to recognize that and even longer for me to break the cycle of it.  Too often now I’ve found myself falling back into that pattern of accommodating someone else.

I woke up the next morning and sipped my coffee next to the reservoir, listening to music, watching the Pronghorn walk down to the water, and letting the sun warm my skin.  I was soaking in my last few minutes in Colorado.  I knew I wouldn’t be getting on that river trip.

You may not always end up where you thought you were going, but you will always end up where you were meant to be.

Jessica Taylor