If Wishes Were Wagons...

I've been ever so graciously and humbly driving around in my dad's PianoWagon, a 1985 Totota Tercel, with almost 250,000 miles on it. Granted these miles have almost exclusively been on the previous engine, but it's still very impressive. It makes me wish, in futility, that the BattleWagon was a Toyota, simply based on the reliability and resale values of the stuff they produce.

On a more philosophic note, I ponder this:  As the end of this chronicle starts to sink in, so, too, does the reality that the adventures are ongoing. Yes I spent an incredible year in a van, yet I never once parked down by the river. I met lots of people and made tons of friends, but never near a school. I decorated the van with stickers, vehicle graphics, and prayer flags, but I never spraypainted "free candy" on the doors. But ultimately, I learned how simply we can choose to live our lives when we really apply ourselves. It's amazing to me that we really don't need television or movies or the full and relentless witchcraft we call the internet to surf our minds away. All we really require (all I really require, I should specify) is fellowship, love, friendship, books, and a journal. It's amazing how when we try to access the core of who we are, we start to visit a much higher force.

A passage in the book of Luke in the Bible tells us that "the Kingdom of God is found within us". It challenges the reader to look inside one's self, deeply and honestly, and that is where we find, or even become, God in God's image.

Simply. Honestly. That's what I got from the BattleWagon, and I hope to go on applying the fruits of this experience to my everyday life.

Here's one...

It's a little hard to see unless you zoom in, but it was a very pretty car.

Hugs,

Russ

The End of an Era/A New Beginning

The time has come. The BattleWagon, while fighting a true and noble fight, has fought and lost its final battle.

I had spent an excellent weekend at home with my parents in Salida. My sister and her husband were there, and my brother and I had a chance to catch up some things.  I left at about 8:00 on Sunday night, in the evening in high spirits that my week would be good.

An hour later, while driving over Trout Creek Pass, I was listening to some Massive Attack, enjoying the starry night, when a doe ran out in front of me.

Thump.

I walked three miles, making phone calls along the way as I stumbled into areas where I got service. The van was towed to a body shop, where the insurance company declared it dead on arrival.

In the interim, my dad was kind enough to lend me his car, a champion 1985 Toyota Tercel, but the BattleWagon is no longer in service.

These chronicles of mine will go on, as there is a world of things to write about, a world of experiences to be had, good and bad. I have no regrets. If anything, I'm inspired be the possibilities of the impossible. I just hope some of you took something with you from all of this. It would be a shame if I couldn't share this with anyone else.

ONE YEAR!!!

Today is a year in the van! It's excellent! I have more to say, more to do, but this is a new day for me. Hardship is only hard if you make it that way.

Thanks to everyone who has supported me along this journey!

Sunsets in Alpenglow

I don't know if it's always called Alpenglow, but what I refer to here is usually a mountaineering term. It's when you're in the mountains early in the morning, before dawn. When the sun first starts to rise, it lights the mountains up in the most vivid of colors, usually casting a gold or red paint on the still otherwise magnificent mountain peaks. This effect is so vibrant that the first Spanish explorers in Colorado met some mountains in the morning (or evening) and named them the Sangre de Christo Mountains, which translanted means Blood of Christ. I could only imagine the awe and spectacle of these mountains which would drive the Spanish to name them that.

I've found recently very beautiful places after numerous trips west and driving east into the next day's dawn. Coincidentally, I always drive east at sunset and have continually been caught by this phenomenon, sometimes inspiring me to pull over and simply gaze at the sunset without looking towards the sun. It's like an old analogy I use to describe religion: God is the sun, but it's what we find beauty in, what the sun shines upon, that's how we believe God to exist. No two people will have the same love for God as each of our beliefs are custom made by us and for us alone. I believe this is how God should be. I believe this is how God is, universally loving, yet intimately personal for each of us.

Downtime in the Park

I picked up a second job a while back at FedEx and now work evenings there. It's become my ritual to spend some time on the phone, grab a bite, and head to work. If I have extra time, I spend it writing in my journal or reading a book at the park near the Ralston Creek Trail in Arvada. It's conveniently close to work, and it's pretty, especially now that it's closer to fall and the sun is setting sooner.

Fall is one of my favorite seasons, but life in this van has given me a new appreciation for it. Fall and Spring are the only times when I can just sit with the doors open and take in life without roasting and melting into a sweaty puddle of goo or freezing and finding my thumbs inoperable for blogging.

As my anniversary of these BattleWagon Chronicles approaches, I wonder if I'll be in here much longer. I seriously doubt I'll stop blogging, as I think this experience has been a lesson in hardship and joy simultaneously, inspiring to me and I'm sure will go on inspiring me for years to come. But it has also made me want to settle down, to enjoy and practice the things I've learned, to work hard, start a family, and have as much fun as I can, honestly and simply.

Coincidentally, in the background of my life, I've seen my family go through some pretty heavy things, and this experience has compelled me to speak out and say my peice to those around me who I care about. To paraphrase J. K. Rawling's Professor Dumbledore, it takes courage to confront your enemy, but it takes much more to confront your friends and loved ones. I feel more and more dishonest for keeping my opinions to myself these days, and I think this raw deliverance is a result of the brutal honesty I have when telling people I live in a van.

All these thoughts make me enjoy my time in the park.

Sunshine

I wake up and drive to work. The sun hits me in the face. The drive is quick, the sun is invigorating. I smile. I didn't make my bed this morning. I didn't even put it away. I slept until I knew I couldn't anymore, and then I got up and brushed my teeth, hopped up front, turned the van on, and left. Sometimes you need these mornings. Sometimes you need to just relax and appreciate how big the sun is, how small we all are.