Things I’ve Learned so Far on the Open Road (That No One Told Me)

Let me tell it to you straight. I did not choose to live life on the road. The economy being what it is, life threw me a huge curveball, and I simply had no choice.

But my favorite saying is “ Make lemonade out of lemons.” So while I may not have chosen this life of mine, I tried to look at the bright side in life, and when you’re on the road, there is a lot to see that is good in this world.

When I first landed in life on the road, I did what most people do. I watched countless YouTube videos on how to do it I read blogs written by experienced travelers, and followed many travelers on social media.

The road has been an incredible teacher. It has challenged me, humbled me, surprised me, and rewarded me in ways I never imagined.

If I were going to share traveling tips to help beginners adjust to road life, it would be the following.

Loneliness Isn’t Constant

Here are a few things I’ve learned so far that nobody really told me.

Everyone talks about loneliness.

“Won’t you get lonely?”

“You’ll miss people.”

“How can you travel by yourself?”

The truth is…

Loneliness isn’t permanent.

Then, completely out of nowhere, loneliness sneaks up on me while sitting in a crowded coffee shop.

Or standing in line at the grocery store.

Watching families spill out of a car in a public place.

Those are the moments when you find healing and know that your life will shift onto another path.

Independence Is Addicting

Nobody warned me how quickly I’d become comfortable doing everything myself.

At first, every challenge felt overwhelming. You are so used to having everything right on hand, especially if you’ve lived in a home for years, like I have.

All of a sudden, the questions you ask start changing.

Could I park here?

Can I back into this campsite?

What if something breaks?

What if I get lost?

Now? Why is this happening right now?!

Living on the road forces you to become your own problem solver.

You learn to fix little things.

You learn to trust your instincts.

You become comfortable making decisions without asking anyone else. That confidence slowly spills into every other part of your life.

The independence I found was not something I was searching for or even wanted. But I find it rewarding.

Weather Controls A Lot

Back home, weather was mostly an inconvenience. You go in the closet, you grab your coat or your boots or your hat or an umbrella.

You might even plan a little extra time before you go somewhere because it’s raining so much and the people will drive crazy!

On the road, the weather becomes your schedule.

Too much heat means your car becomes an oven.

Heavy rain can turn a dirt forest road into a muddy trap, or even into a river all in a matter of a few minutes to an hour.

High winds can make sleeping difficult. And I definitely recommend avoiding parking or camping under trees in high winds.

Wildfires can completely change your travel plans when parks and forests shut down, forcing everybody out.

Snow can close mountain passes overnight, and you could be stuck if you don’t know a storm is coming.

I’ve learned to check forecasts several times a day. I downloaded the fire duty app, which presents live updates on fires and flood watches and warnings across the nation in monitor conditions diligently.

I’ve learned to appreciate cool mornings, or warmer ones when I find myself in a colder location in the winter.

I’ve learned that many times changing plans is prudence, and you will do best if you go with the flow of the weather around you.

It’s wisdom with a dash of the Holy Spirit sprinkled on top.

Finding a Place to Sleep Is More Stressful Than It Looks

You don’t really think about parking in legal and safe places until you find yourself at a dead end with nowhere to park.

Even with camping apps and maps, there are evenings when I’ve driven for an hour or more searching for a legal, safe place to spend the night.

Campgrounds fill.

Forest roads are closed.

Parking lots post new signs.

Construction changes everything.

I’ve learned to begin looking much earlier than I originally planned. Driving to a new location in the middle of the day is best if you don’t know where you’re going.

I’ve also learned that having a backup plan—and then a backup to that backup—is never a bad idea.

Nothing ruins a peaceful evening faster than searching for parking after dark.

Temper personal safety in making new friends

Well, it’s true that not everyone you meet on the road is a dangerous person. There are plenty of creeps to go along with the decent ones.

I admit I was a bit naïve coming from a small town where everyone is generally friendly and chatty. We go to the store together, we work together, we play together, and we go to church together.

I needed to tighten the reins on my personal safety when I ventured out to life on the road.

One of the first things I learned is that whether you are driving a car, truck, van, or even a camper, make sure that your windows are darkened or get some shades to cover them.

When you park, look around you and consider your “neighbors” and check for activities that will keep you from sleeping in peace.

Think about the old saying, “Fences make good neighbors.” The same holds true with your car, especially when you are parking near or next to strangers.

If you end up parked near someone like that, next to you were worse; they begin to follow you. Get out of Dodge, Sister, and run for the hills. You’ll find a better place up or down the road.

Many people have been surprisingly kind.

The group of women trying to find out who left their phone in the bathroom at a rest area.

The young man who helped me figure out the problem with my brakes when they failed.

A female truck driver who helped me in the middle of a health crisis.

Store employees who recommended beautiful scenic drives.

Strangers who’ve simply smiled and wished me safe travels.

Yes, it’s important to stay aware.

Yes, common sense matters.

But I’ve also discovered that kindness still exists in unexpected places.

You Need Less Than You Think

One of the biggest surprises?

How little I actually need.

When you live in a moving and confined space, every item earns its place. If something isn’t useful, it becomes clutter.

Back home it’s easy to accumulate things, but on the road, simplicity becomes freedom.

I’ve donated items.

Thrown away duplicates.

Stopped buying “just in case” gadgets.

Oddly enough…

The less I own, the lighter I feel.

Coffee Somehow Tastes Better on the Road

I honestly can’t explain this one.

Whether you drive into the local McDonald’s, sipping on coffee and eating a McMuffin, make it in your camper, or you brew it over a campfire, It is more satisfying.

Choose what makes you feel most comforted and relish it.

It simply tastes different.

Maybe it’s the fresh air.

Maybe it’s the slower pace.

Maybe it’s finally having time to appreciate small moments.

Whatever the reason…

Morning coffee has become one of my favorite daily rituals.

Showers Become a Luxury

It’s funny how quickly your definition of luxury changes.

Fancy hotels?

Not interested.

Designer clothes?

Don’t need them.

A clean shower with endless hot water?

Now we’re talking.

After several days on the road, something as ordinary as washing your hair in a spacious shower feels like checking into a five-star resort.

Don’t get me wrong. You still need wipes, antibacterial soap, a washcloth, and some water to get clean every day. Once you live independently on the open road, you find creative ways to stay clean.

Use your water and a tarp to create a pseudo shower. Wash your hair in quiet, creative places. When you find a place to shower, such as a truck stop or a gym, then consider yourself blessed!

The road teaches gratitude in unexpected ways.

Plans rarely go according to plan, and flexibility becomes your friend.

Sometimes mechanical problems delay travel.

Sometimes weather changes everything.

Sometimes you discover a charming little town that wasn’t on your itinerary at all.

The best memories often come from detours.

I’ve learned that flexibility creates opportunities.

Fast internet can be a blessing.

Having a permanent mailing address.

Cooking without rearranging half the car first. Or locations that are under a burn ban, keeping you from starting any sort of cooking at all.

The little conveniences of everyday life become surprisingly valuable.

The Little Moments of Natural Beauty

When you’re constantly moving, every sunset feels like a gift. Some happen over mountain ridges. Others across desert landscapes or beside rivers.

No two evenings look exactly alike, especially when you are traveling in a new location you have never seen before.

The rainbow suddenly appearing while you drive down the road.

Mountain views.

Scenic drives.

The animals, like baby deer, birds, whales, dolphins, wolves, and plenty of other little critters.

Wildflower fields carpeted before me in a field.

The smell of pine trees after rain.

Morning fog rolling across the landscape.

The beauty lands peace at your feet and an ear for listening to the Creator of the Earth.

Finding moments of joy and taking them in carries into the next day.

Your Definition of Home Changes

I realized that home isn’t always a building.

Sometimes home is your favorite coffee mug.

Your journal.

Your blanket.

Your dog curled beside you.

Your morning routine.

Your faith.

The familiar playlist you listen to while driving.

Home has become something I carry instead of somewhere I return.

That realization surprised me the most.

Yet the Challenges Lie in the Unexpected

Living life on the road becomes your job in some ways, just like living at home. You plan out your food, water, and gas.

You always keep ahead of the needs you and your family may have.

You always plan ahead.

Watch fuel levels.

Check the weather.

Find water.

Find parking.

Manage limited space.

And then check the fluids in your car, van, truck, or camper.

There’s a surprising amount of mental energy required to live a simple life.

It’s rewarding—but it isn’t effortless.

Final Thoughts

If you’re dreaming about living on the road, know this:

You don’t have to know everything before you begin.

You’ll make mistakes.

You’ll take wrong turns.

You’ll buy gear you never use.

You’ll occasionally wonder what you were thinking. Or is God crazy for doing this to me?

But you’ll also discover strengths you didn’t know you had.

You’ll become more resourceful.

More adaptable.

More grateful.

And maybe—just maybe—you’ll discover that freedom isn’t about escaping life. It’s about learning to experience it more fully.