Waking to darkness, I pull the sleeping bag from my face, free my arms from the cocoon. Search for my phone and check the time. Not quite 7, but I can’t fall back asleep, might as well get the day started. Listening to the rattle of the tent I try to discern if there’s rain in the mix. Sounds blustery, but dry.
Unzipping the fly, I laugh as Baylor darts out immediately. Peaks his head in as I scan low, grey skies. Pulling on my stocking cap, I crawl out, pour food into the bowl. Give the okay for Baylor to eat.
Having finally re-invested in a gas can for the camp stove, I heat water for tea. Start the cold day with a warm breakfast, declare the $5 fuel expense the best investment I could’ve possibly made.
Rolling into Paris, we head straight for the Eiffel Tower.
Stopping in front of the cowboy-topped tower, the memory of our last time in this exact spot is crystal clear.
Only a few days into the vanlife it was still a regular occurrence to stall out at stop lights, to jerk and grind and clunk about as I learned how to drive a stick en route. Stumbling upon this quirky roadside attraction was a most unexpected and delightful moment. Baylor positioned in his custom made passenger-platform, I reached past him for the camera. Hopped out of the van eager to make use of the last minutes of daylight, started taking pictures. Got back in the van and realized immediately I’d forgotten to turn off the lights in my excitement, had drained the battery.
Looking around the empty parking lot, I remembered the rolling starts from Little Miss Sunshine. Stood in the open door, started pushing with all my might. Barely got Goliath rolling, pushed harder to no avail. Out of breath, I looked up, burst out laughing as Baylor sat in his seat grinning, looking at me, I don’t know what you’re doing, but this chariot ride is pretty fun.
Seeing a truck turning into the parking lot, I grabbed my jumper cables. Took a breath and asked for help for the first time. Clearly not for the last. The father son duo happily agreed. Couldn’t believe we were planning to travel and live in that bright orange van. Thought it the wildest of adventures. Excitedly snapped a pic with the hippie girl and her dog.
Turning Rufio off, I half expect to see their old silver truck roll in. To have a parking lot reunion. To show them that the van crazy was mild in comparison to this newest adventure. Smiling at the thought, I set up the camera. Run back and forth capturing the moment. Giggle at Baylor’s serious early morning face.
Considering driving further through Paris, I look up as a drop of rain splashes on the broken phone screen. Grey skies darkening, Baylor and I exchange a look, Let’s get outta here.
Wrist numb, shoulders a single tight knot, I veer off at the sight of a highway rest stop. A generous word for the two picnic tables and a trash can barely removed from traffic, but we need a stretch break.
Baylor sniffing, judiciously choosing the prime spots to mark, I meander alongside him, check the phone map.
Bailey? Is that Bailey?
I freeze. Turn slowly. Experience a moment of mental acrobatics trying to decide if I should know the man standing before me. Umm, it’s Baylor.
Oh, that’s right. I’m on ADVRider. Followed your adventures all the way to Alaska and back. Haven’t looked at it lately, but I was driving by and saw the sidecar and the white dog. Had to turn around, figured it must be you guys.
I grin, shake his hand. What a small and interconnected world we live in.
Waving goodbye, I remember it’s Valentine’s day and dig in the far reaches of the sidecar. Pull out the red lipstick victoriously. Laugh as Baylor looks at me skeptically. Oh come on, it’ll be a great picture.
Kisses applied, I scrape a sticky, furry mess from my lips. Snap pictures and dole out cookies as reward for putting up with my weird ideas.
About to hit the road, I look up as the truck comes to a stop behind us.
Can I take a picture? I drove past and then had to turn around to get a better look. My friend loves motorcycles, he’ll think this is great.
I shake his hand, of course, take as many as you want.
Adventure discussed, Scott looks at me, Aren’t you worried about being a pretty lady out here all alone? Looks around pointedly at our current desolate highway landscape.
You know, people often ask my if I’m afraid traveling as a solo female.
Not just that, but a pretty one.
I giggle awkwardly, continue on, Well, I’ve found the opposite to be true every where we go. Instead of trying to take advantage, people go out of their way to be kind and helpful. To look out for us whenever possible. It’s one of the most inspiring things of this whole adventure really.
Life discussed, Scott looks across the highway, points, I’m a project man. I look at those and think of all the things I could make with it. I should go find out if they’d let me haul them off.
Grinning, I look over. Take note of the countless coils of no longer needed barbed wire. Rolls and rolls right along the highway for as far as they eye can see, if they eye is looking. We’d undoubtedly rolled passed hundreds of such coils, cruised passed countless other who-knows-whats and yet I hadn’t even noticed. Had written it off as a flat, long Texas haul to be endured, had forgotten to enjoy the journey. To find the wonder and the beauty. To see the possibility.
Helmet on, I give a last goodbye salute. Roll on with fresh eyes and a happy heart.
247 days down. Many to come.
