New Mexico is known as the Land of Enchantment. Until this trip, I had never visited. When I left Durango, after a couple nights in a Marriott, I wanted to get back to camping and since Taos was on my list, that's where I headed. I didn't know much about it other than it's a small artistic community and a place where all kinds of spirituality and practice is embraced. I arrived too late to scout out a campsite so I checked into the small and inexpensive Kachina Lodge in historic Taos; a perfect place to sleep in a real bed and take a proper shower. Taos is exactly how I imagined- quaint and quirky. There are amazing artists and shops, a museum, and great places to eat. I particularly

As I was walking back to my campsite at the KOA in Albuquerque, I noticed a car with a Virginia license plate. Having lived there for part of my life, I stopped to ask the young woman who owned it what part of Virginia she was from. “Richmond”, she said. We exchanged some small talk during which I learned that she worked for “a company called REI” and that she was on a cross-country solo camping trip, just like me! Her name is Abby and she's 25. She came to my campsite and we shared a cup of coffee and pored over our National Park atlases like they were the gospel. I shared some of my favorite spots going westward, and she shared some spots she had been to eastward that were notable. I fel

I'm in Durango, Colorado's Marriott Residence Inn, landing here after a 3 day off grid adventure in several of Utah's otherworldly National State Parks. I'm staying in Durango an extra night to downsize, consolidate, discard, and get that much closer to being dialed-in to system that will provide efficiency and ease. One week into this adventure these truths are evident: 1) Hotels and/or hospitable friends scattered about the country (and their bathrooms with running water and showers) are going to be an integral part of this trip. 2) Order and utility are imperative in making or breaking your experience. This photo demonstrates what happens when the car camper (that's me) hasn't fully

After spending the night at the Circle D Motel in Escalante on June 9th, I drove to Boulder (Utah) to meet my off-grid guide at Burr Trail Outpost. I am an adventurer, but I know my limitations. I wanted to camp far away from anyone and everything but didn't feel ready to do so on my own. I found a guide who is well versed on dispersed camping. I describe him as my "courage potentiator". He took me to Pleasant Creek Campground in Fishlake National Forest the first night and then to a place called Bears Ears, located 8700 feet above sea level in the southeastern corner of Utah. Along the road from Escalante to Boulder, I stopped at the unexpectedly quaint and beautifully appointed Kiva K

Meet Marlo. She's my new Prius, my ride, my wheels. I may refer to her in posts and it seemed important to introduce you. Why Marlo? I bought her at Walnut Creek Toyota from a charming salesman named Danny Thomas. Nuff said.

Monday, June 6, 2016- I left San Francisco at noon and headed southeast to the Serrano Campground at Big Bear Lake in the San Bernardino Mountains. When I was a little girl, I went to camp in Big Bear at a place called Tamarack Lodge. Big Bear Lake is vast, deep, and very blue and was the body of water that taught me to water-ski. The air is crisp and clean and has a particularly distinct scent. These fond memories made it my target for the first night. Because of my late departure from San Francisco, the sun had already gone down when I arrived so I pitched my small tent purchased for quick overnight trips and enjoyed my first outdoor snooze. Tuesday, June 7, 2016- I awakened with the sun

Well, not exactly. It's Eve and I'm leaving today from San Francisco to begin my solo cross-country camping trip. This trip is a celebration and exploration of what it means to no longer have the hepatitis C virus. Having an incurable disease that slowly eroded my liver has been psychologically noisy. As my brother's health declined due to end stage liver disease, my fear, anxiety and denial of my own situation was worsened. I always imagined hepatitis C as an evil gargoyle who nonchalantly stalked me, reminding me that I would surely die prematurely. Now that there's a cure, people will not have to suffer in this way. It's as simple as educating the general public as well as healthc

After giving blood in 1993, I received a letter from the Red Cross informing me that my blood had tested positive for hepatitis C (HCV) and I could no longer donate. At the time, very little was known about HCV. My primary care doctor told me the best approach was to 'watch and wait'. And, that I did. I’ve been a nurse for over 30 years. Caring for others provided a "shield of immunity" which I magically used to allow me to continue to ignore my own health and bargain with fate that somehow my good deeds would prevent me from getting liver damage. Fear and stigmatization fueled my ignorance. To compound the scenario of caring for others, I found myself desperately trying to save my old