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campervan chronicles: how I got my van

My friend Elyse asked to hear the story of how I got my van (which is technically a class c rv).

So this one's for you, Elyse.

about her ~ a little campervan context

Originally a '94 Chevrolet Astro Van, my baby underwent a commercial campervan conversion way back in the day, installed by a company called Tiger Adventure Vehicles that specializes in making Chevys into mini RVs. Thus, she metamorphosed into the rare and exotic animal known in the auto jungle as the Tiger Provan.

(She's still an Astro Van at heart though, y'all).

Coming in at just 16' in length, she is so cutely compact as to make you want to squeeze her chubby lil fenders. And she easily fits in one parking space! This fierce, short 'n stout lil lady is also tall --- a (rare) hardtop XL edition of the Tiger Provan with high enough ceilings for this 5'11" captain to stand up in without head grazing or bonking. She's got rear wheel drive, good clearance, and slightly oversized tires that have another six months or so of life in 'em.

She had 123,000 miles when I bought her on March 8, 2021. She's now clocking in at 124,000 after a month's worth of adventures.

Some more specs: She's got an indoor toilet and wet shower combo as well as a custom-installed (by Kyle, the precious owner) outdoor shower. A 22-gallon water tank that runs sink, shower, toilet. Grey and black water tanks underneath. Welded on MicroLite 2.8 GenSet generator. Brand new mini-fridge that runs on the all-new 12V electrical system, also installed by Kyle. Two steel sinks with a handsome new faucet. A microwave, propane stove with two burners, furnace that runs on propane and/or the generator. Custom-installed AC unit, also put in by Kyle. A custom-installed safe (big enough to fit my laptop among its stash of treasures) put in by the first owner. (She's only had two owners before me). Most vitally for me and my cat, Lady May: she has a loft!!! Gas milage isn't stellar (between 13- 15 mpg), and she doesn't have solar at the mo, but the generator is actually quite fuel efficient, all things considered. Two batteries to hold electricity, and of course, I can always plug her in when outlets are available.

Here's a little peek inside:

and she shall be called ...

Her name is Tortigra.


The first time I was driving her, I thought, this feels familiar, like invoking the signature move of some ancient friend and mentor. An image tickled the back of my brain, something about making my way in this world with my house on my back as I go.

Aaaaah! It hit me: A turtle. She’s a turtle!

The word tortuga arrived instantly and made me smile: one of my favorite Spanish words. A word I’d just been thinking, looking out on the snow-covered yard from my best friend Jacey’s porch in Laramie a few days after purchasing my new-to-me Tiger Pro campervan in Denver. I'd been contemplating a little tin turtle clinging decoratively to a shard of fence in Jacey's yard. Why, I wondered, did something about turtles feel so tuggingly relevant? At that moment, no significant symbolic meaning of turtles registered for me. Foxes, owls, dragonflies, tigers, yes, but ... turtles … ???

It was the next day, driving back up to Cody, when it hit me: My van feels like a turtle. Tortuga. Duh!

Up to that point, for the first few days I'd had her, I'd been calling my campervan The Tiger Queen (you know, Tiger Provan and all, y'all) ...

So I began a mezclar (to mix) the energy of Tiger and Tortoise in my mind. Tigre + Tortuga =



(and the myriad nicknames that shall follow ... tor, torty, tortle, tig, tigles, tigra, tortig, tigy, tortor, tigtig, tortiglekins...)

But her name was not always Tortigra, nor any of the presh nicknames derived therefrom.

In fact, for many years, his name was Olaf.

Below is a short synopsis of how I came to look for, find, and unite with Olaf-who-became-Tortigra.

Chapter 1 ~ seeds of van life dreams

My second year Working Holiday Visa for Australia just expired a week ago.

Back when I was dating Ollie (an Australian), and living in Australia for all of 2019 on my first-year working holiday visa, I had worked to obtain my second year working holiday visa and planned to spend most of 2021 into 2022 in Australia.

Then, covid.

And, Ollie and I broke up.

So, no Australia.

However, I had invested hundreds of hours dreaming about living van life in Australia. I had planted a seed.

I just didn’t know where it would grow.

Chapter 2 ~ sprouts

As my friend Meredith and I sat at my cabin table on a cold night in late January 2021 and considered the hard fact of my having decided to leave Cody, she casually mentioned selling her RV to buy a truck since she was going to need a trailer and something to haul it with (the girl is a professional horse trainer, after all).

Suddenly, I realized I didn’t want to go move to a little bungalow on the Northwest coast (as I'd originally planned as my where-to-go-from-here strategy) so much as buy Meredith's RV and go live on the road with my two dogs and my cat.

Australian vanlife dreams resurrected as American RV reality!!!

Chapter 3 ~ hedging

Wiley and I sat silently in Meredith’s RV. It was the Saturday (in mid-late February) I’d set aside for beginning to make it mine.

I didn’t want to say it, but my heart and gut and all the things whispered this wasn't going to be my new home like I'd been so sure it would be.

One of my major hangups was the lack of a loft — I wouldn’t be able to have a place where my dogs couldn’t get, and Lady wouldn’t have a place to jump up into and hide.

I also decided I needed 4 wheel drive. I had a hard time seeing myself driving Mer's RV on dirt backroads, and dirt backroads were where I wanted to be.

Chapter 4 ~ branching out

When I called her to tell her the hard news, Meredith had already psychically discerned I wasn't going to buy her RV, much the same way she’d woken up with a start at 3 AM on the mid-January night of my deciding to leave Cody (from where I was staying at the time in Murfreesboro, Tennessee). Sitting up stock straight in her bed in Cody that night, Meredith said aloud, "Virginia’s leaving."

In my first blog I'd announced I was setting out on my Heroine's journey in Meredith’s RV. My second blog explained I was not in fact buying Meredith’s RV, because it wasn’t what I actually wanted. I made a list of what I was looking for in my adventure mobile and blasted requests asking people to help me look.

Chapter 5 ~ connecting to root systems

My friend Tom was the first person to really inundate me with vans, campers, RVs, and everything movable + livable for sale on Facebook marketplace. And he continued looking and deluging me with links during the duration of my home-on-wheels search. Thank you Tom, for being the first one to connect me to the van life world in this way.

Tom's plug ins helped me to realize van life (nomad life, life on the road) is a world. It is a community.

Tom shared the ‘95 green Chevy 4x4 I first fell in love with, and that’s how I met George.

George was the owner and remodeler of this hard core, lifted emerald Chevy gem, and he was the first one to show me van life people were going to be my people.

The instant common ground was earth-shaking. George lived van life in Australia for two years (one of which was the same year I lived in Aus). George, 29, from New York rebuilds vans for a living and seeks to rediscover the Australian dream and reignite the Aus spirit back here in America, much like me.

George ended up selling his van to someone else. Meanwhile he became a new friend and meaningful connection I know I will meet on the road one day.

It was George of New York who introduced me to Nick in Ohio. Nick was selling a 2004 Mercedes Sprinter with 200,000 ish miles on her. She was a sleek 'n simple pearly beauty, with a cassette toilet and space for a dog to lay under the back bed. They wanted $24,000 for her.

Nick, like George, taught me a lot about vans. I’d already been schooled on the legendariness of Sprinter Mercedes engines at this point (a guy selling his Sprinter in Jackson, when I commented that 230,000 miles sure seemed like a lot, said:"Have you done any research at all? Obviously not, or you would know about these engines and what they’re known for." That was when I began to become aware that Sprinters were like some holy grail of van life; some claim these mythical creatures can run for up to a million miles).

I thought Nick’s van might be the one. It wasn’t 4WD, but Nick and George and others were beginning to teach me that 4WD wasn't actually vital; it was more about clearance.

The day after Nick called to tell me another couple from out east bought his van, I got a call from an old friend, Gabe, saying he’d heard I was looking for a van. He and his wife, also a dear friend, Melissa, were selling their 2008 Sprinter, which they’d done some work on (though she still needed some more) with 213,000 miles on it, for $15,000, right here in Cody.

Gabe and I met up one Saturday in late February. He showed their Sprinter to me, gleaming holy grail Mercedes engine and all, and taught me still more about vans. I loved their van, and, I knew I had little interest in an even remotely major DIY project. I wanted something ready to go, and Gabe and Melissa’s gorgeous rig was half blank slate.

Chapter 6 ~ budding

Maybe it was two days after seeing Gabe and Melissa's Sprinter that I finally ceded to checking my WhatsApp messages and found one from Jacey listing four different Craiglist ads for vans and campers in the Denver area.

I got super excited about all of them, especially this amazing compact little ‘94 Tiger Provan listed for $24,000 and most favoritely, a 1991 Toyota Odyssey camper --- with 4WD!!! --- listed for $28,000.

My parents were leaving for Denver the next day, a Wednesday, to go stay with my older brother Hal and my sister-in-law Jamie and see their granddaughter/my niece, Maeve.

I sent out a slew of emails and texts to the owners of the campervans-for-sale Jacey had sent along.

When the "yes, it's still available" responses came from the owners of the Tiger Provan and the Toyota Odyssey, I told them I'd be there to see them ASAP. I made all the necessary arrangements to jump in the car with my parents and hitch a ride to Denver.

I hoped I’d be returning to my childhood home in my new one.

Chapter 7 ~ shedding leaves

Just as my Dad and I pulled into the Ball Aerospace parking lot on Thursday morning to drop Hal off, I looked at my text messages to copy the exact address for the Toyota Odyssey and paste it into google maps. We’d driven all the way to Boulder specifically to see the Odyssey (making it a doubly effective trip because my brother also needed to stop by his Boulder office).

The last text message I'd received from the owner of the Odyssey at 10:15 am had said "Ok sounds good!" in regards to us being on our way. I now saw I had another text message from him, received at 10:32 am:

"Hey I just want to give you a heads up that I have a guy who is very serious about it right now who is offering me asking. He is planning on sending me a deposit this afternoon to hold the truck.

Then, at 10:42 am:

"Sorry for the super late notice he literally just called me to work it out."

Then, at 10:46 am:

"He just sent me a deposit on the truck. I'm really sorry. You are welcome to come look at it if you'd like to see if it's what you are really after."

I didn’t even cry.

I took deep breaths and responded in muted (no emojis), polite phrases. We were already in Boulder, so, I mean, sure, we’d still like to see her if you’re cool with that.

During the showing of the already-sold-dream-rv, I made another new friend in the previous owner, Grant (who did turn out to be a pretty cool guy), gained loads more RV tips and tricks of the trade thanks to his advice, mourned losing what seemed like the RV of my dreams, and got back in the car to text the other owner with whom I'd been in contact, Kyle, about the when and where we could meet to see his Tiger Provan that day.

One pro-tip Grant gave me about RVs, really stuck with me (and not in a good way). I guess he was specifically talking about his RV, though I suspect it may apply to all RVs ...

"She’s like a boat. Something’s always going to be breaking down and needing to be fixed." 

He said this fondly, like someone who is not intimidated by fixing things, even enjoys a good ol’ fashioned DIY fix-it challenge.

I cringed.

Well, if the Odyssey was like a ship, then perhaps the Tiger Provan was more like a boat. And boats require less upkeeps than ships, overall ... right?

*Gulps audibly*

Chapter 8 ~ bare branches

When my Dad and Hal and I arrived in front of the address Kyle had given us, I felt a sense of promise. The apartment building was my favorite color of sage green and had a sort of Victorian style to it. I appreciated and I resonated. (I'd later find out Kyle was the landlord of this apartment building, and responsible for the tasteful remodel).

When Kyle met us at the gate, he was younger than I expected (based on the thorough-ness and slightly anal, no-nonsense nature of his Craisglist ad and texting tone). He led us back to where the Tiger Provan was and told my Dad he might want to stay behind because of all the ice.

My first-sight feeling was: Aw dang. She is surely not as pretty as she looks in the pictures.

Her paint was chipping, her decal was peeling, and there was a polka-dot-esque spray of fly dung decorating her white siding. The day was grey and cold, and she was parked in a super duper über cramped back-of-the-apartment building space that hardly provided a flattering frame for this mightily compact little lady.

Of course, at the time, she wasn’t a lady.

She was a he, and his name was Olaf. As evidenced by his Olaf1 Colorado license plates, plus the stuffed Olaf who sat perched in the intersectional corner of the bench seats inside, grinning at me with one giant tooth protruding gleefully from beneath his carrot nose.

But even this emphatic, stuffed, single-tooth smile could not warm nor fill the cold emptiness I felt. Olaf seemed older, dingier, and more complicated than I thought. Kyle explained that living in an RV, even a flawlessly maintained and diligently updated mini RV like Olaf, was not a life where there was absolutely nothing to upkeep.

Kyle explained this was not a campervan (nor lifestyle, in fact) for someone who thought they could just buy it, hit the road, and call it good. There were the water lines, there was the generator, the electrical system, the ac, the grey water, the black water, the, the, the ...

He went on to explain that this level of complex care was probably what had turned away the other women, specifically, who had come to look at it. Because in the past six-ish months Olaf had been on the market, it was indeed mostly women who had come to check him out.

When I told Kyle I planned to live in the van full time, he was quite incredulous at his witnessing of some kind of van-mania seemingly sweeping the women of our country.

“You’re the ninth woman who’s come to look at this who’s said she wants to live in it full time! What is it with all these women wanting to live in a van full time?

I felt the question as an invitation to self as well as societal inquiry that I wasn’t ready to answer; only my being part of this nomadic (vanlife) revolution would reveal that to me --- on the road.

“I’ll get back to you tomorrow,” I told Kyle regarding my interest in Olaf as we stepped carefully over the ice and back out the apartment gates. Feeling deflated, I climbed back into the Volvo with my Dad and brother, and began googling other campervans in the Denver area.

Chapter 9 ~ dead of winter

I spent the next two days feeling hopeless, confused, and depressed. I couldn’t let go of having lost my dream Toyota. I couldn't get over Olaf not being 4-wheel-drive. I couldn't move past Olaf not being as first-impression handsome as he’d looked in the Craigslist pics. I refused to move past my fear of not being able to handle the complexity of RV systems and operations, even if they were mini.

In short, I had what Carol Dweck would call a very fixed mindset. The right campervan for me had to be a very certain way, and my own capabilities to operate and maintain said campervan were quite set and unchangeable.

At the time, my neck was hurting. I googled the metaphysical cause of neck pain according to Louise Hay:

"Neck: Represents flexibility. The ability to see what’s back there. Refusing to see other sides of a question. Stubbornness, inflexibility. Unbending stubbornness."


Could it be that my lack of flexibility was preventing me from turning my head to see that what I was looking for was in fact directly in front of me?

I went upstairs to Hal and Jamie’s guest bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed staring out the window. I realized that if I didn’t choose to be happy (okay with life as it is) now --- van or no van --- I would never be happy. I remembered that external circumstances are not what determines my happiness. I do, moment to moment. So, even if I found the perfect van, it would not necessarily make me happy.

I went straight downstairs to my ipad and pumped out a blog: “Getting what you want will not make you happy.”

Feeling much lighter and significantly happier, I went to get what I wanted.

(But first, we went to the zoo ;) ... which was really fun ... for everyone except Maeve who literally cried the whole time :D)

chapter 10 ~ springtime in the rockies

My Dad had urged me to put in an offer on Olaf from the first time we met him. (By contrast, my Dad hadn’t been very impressed with the Odyssey when we’d seen her in person).

Finally, I asked my brother Hal what he thought of Olaf.

“If it was my trip, and I was on your budget, I would probably buy it.”

Hal doesn’t say much, and what he says, he means. Being an aeronautical/electrical/software engineer, he’s a pretty thorough guy. And he appreciated this about Kyle, too. Kyle, who not only had taken meticulous care of Olaf, but also, having rebuilt many of the Tiger Provan's systems, put in new and improved ones, and been in every nook and cranny inside and out, had a lot of invaluable knowledge when it came to this campervan. And he'd offered to share all of it with me, and to remain a resource even after the sale. This was a priceless bonus included in choosing Olaf.

I texted Kyle and scheduled a time for a test drive.

My parents dropped me off at the test drive location before heading back to Cody. My Mom got to see Olaf for the first time, and approved.

I’d already told Kyle that if I liked the way he drove, I was ready to make an offer.

I loved the way he drove. I loved the way it felt to be behind a wheel I could already sense I’d be spending countless hours gripping and turning in my hands.

Kyle was kind and thorough as I came to realize is his nature, and he shared everything there was to know about Olaf in me. It was clear he was very sad to see him go, like losing an old friend. When I told Kyle what I planned to do with Olaf, about my youtube channel and my blog and my documenting and my storytelling, I could feel a sense of relief in him that Olaf was going to continue to be very loved and very special. “I’m glad Olaf will be going to a new home,” he said. And I told him he would be able to come along and stay connected with Olaf if he wanted :).

Sitting there in Olaf after the test drive, me in the driver’s seat and Kyle in the passenger, I offered $21,000. Kyle said he’d get back to me after he spoke to his fiancé, Danielle, who was also half owner and full-on biggest fan of Olaf.

Later that evening, Kyle texted me back saying he’d spoken with Danielle, and their offer was $22,000, for which he’d throw in an extra battery and some other clutch accessories. I accepted. It felt like a good number, and I felt like the deal I was getting was more than fair, especially because of the indispensable knowledge Kyle had about Olaf and DIY stuff in general. Plus, I could feel the love they both had for their dear old friend Olaf, the reluctance to let him go, and it felt important that the price we agreed on reflected the worth of this sweet campervan, for all of us.

The next morning Maeve, Jamie, and I drew oracle cards and read them together before I went to make the biggest purchase of my life to date.

Then I took Hal and Jamie’s car to Wells Fargo and wired Kyle $22,000.

The woman at Wells Fargo was very dubious about me sending this money before I had the van. She was caring and frank, and didn’t want me to get scammed. I told her I trusted Kyle, and I did.

I still called him, though. I told him I was about to wire the money and wanted to make sure he’d be where I was meeting him with the van in an hour. He asked to talk to the clerk, and I heard him ask to make sure the money couldn’t be retracted once it was wired. And how long would it take to show up in his account?

She said since we shared the same bank, the wire should be visible nearly right away.

Rather than feeling alarmed by Kyle's questions, I heard the earnestness in his voice and sensed we were both on the same page: We trusted each other, and we wanted to make sure we could trust each other.

The money went through, the woman handed me a stack of verifying documents, and wished me the best on my van life adventures.

I walked out the door $22,000 lighter.

When I got back to Hal and Jamie’s, I took some photos of Jam and Maeve to celebrate International Women's Day.

Then, it was time to go get my new home. I couldn’t get my Uber account to work on my phone so Jamie, amazing sissy she is, ordered me one on hers. (Which I never did pay her back for ... thanks Jamerz :P)

On the drive, I listened to Cardi B’s International Women’s Day album on Apple Music (yes, that's right, I don't use Spotify ... accept it). It struck me as just right that I, a woman setting off to live on her own on the road, was to unite with her steed on none other than International Women’s Day.

When the Uber turned the corner to where I could see the house at which I was meeting Kyle, I was relieved Olaf's signature outline in the driveway.

Phew. I hadn’t been scammed for $22,000. Not that I’d really doubted, but still. A sweet, deep sigh of final relief following all the pressure between wiring the money and getting the goods.

Kyle took the time again to run me through all of Olaf’s systems and give me a full tutorial on everything one more time, and in even more minute detail, making sure there wasn’t anything I didn’t understand. He provided me with all the pieces of Olaf he’d kept from the last owner, and more very kind throw-ins, like the electrical cord to charge Olaf.

I was delighted to meet Danielle at what seemed like long last, having heard Kyle talk about his fiancé extensively during all our previous meetings. Olaf had been their baby.

Danielle joined in with Kyle in offering me every aspect of tips and tricks and advice about Olaf, camping, and life on the road she could think of. I felt taken under their wing; they were sad to see Olaf go; they were happy it was with me; they wanted to make sure we’d be able to take care of each other as best as possible.

When Danielle asked what I did, I felt slightly embarrassed and imposter-ish as usual to say I was a writer, a videographer, a content curator. Somewhat sheepishly, I told her about my youtube channel and my blog.

Instead of being skeptical, she shared with me that she, too, was a writer. She told me she’d written and published several children’s books. I told her how much my mom loved them, and wrote down her author name --- DK Simoneau --- in order to find some of her books.

When Kyle told her I was considering keeping the name Olaf, she laughed. Well, I mean, I kind of relate to Anna, I said, referring to Frozen. Yeah, she said, looking at me in my scotch cap with red braids spilling out either side, you could almost pass for her.

We signed the papers on the hood of Danielle’s car. I felt weird hugging them because of covid (so I didn't), but by the time I drove away, I felt like we were all saying goodbye to old friends as well as new.

The first place I drove Olaf was to Hal and Jamie’s house.

Jamie had to run out first thing, to take one of her chickens to the vet (who later died, RIP forever, sweet Magda), and so I got to babysit Maeve for a bit, holding her and looking out the window together at my new home.

She already looked so much brighter and lighter and more beautiful and alive and more me; I couldn’t see how I hadn’t fallen in love with her cute lil quirky compact campervan self at first sight. And yes, I already knew, on this day, International Women’s Day, and in my life as my carriage, she was a she. I wasn’t going to be able to keep the name Olaf. She was my Tiger Queen.

When Jamie returned home from the vet, we all went out and toured the Tiger Queen. Jamie’s first reaction upon entering with Maeve was to suggest to Hal that they should get one of these.

I asked Jamie, a pro photographer, to take some photos of me and the Tiger Queen with her camera.


Then I left to head to my good friend and close collaborator Alicia’s, where I stayed the night, and we launched the divinity ranch poshmark boutique together.

The next morning Alicia and I took a stroll around Sloan’s Lake with hers and her partner Louise's sweet pup, Piley.

We came back home to hold a zoom meeting with a new soul sista, Eliz of Botanical EZ, and had a quick lil poshmark photoshoot.

Lastly, we saged the Tiger Queen to get her ready for her transition ... her metamorphosis ... and mine.

chapter 11 ~ migrating north

Late afternoon, I drove to Jacey’s house in Laramie, which seemed fitting as Jacey was the one who found the Tiger Queen for me in the first place.

I ended up staying another day, meeting good friends of Jacey’s, and getting to spend more quality time with her because Alicia had a family emergency she needed to get back to Cody for, and asked if I’d wait for her in Laramie so she could then drive up to Cody with me.

This change of plans also meant I got to spend more time with Jacey's art, including her original hand-drawn drafts she'd done for designing divinity ranch's logo.

It was on my last morning in Laramie, after perusing through the wonderful world of Jacey's art collection, waiting for Alicia, smoking a spliff on Jacey's back porch, when I saw the tin turtle clinging to her fence, and wondered why turtle energy felt so significant.

Later, when Alicia and I were headed to fill up at a gas station before leaving Laramie, at a stoplight, it hit me. My van is the turtle. And the tiger. And that was when she metamorphosed from Tiger Queen into Tortuga.

We stopped often for food, snacks, gas, and spliffs along the way, and ended up stopping at a truly epic and fantastical natural phenomena at which neither of us had ever stopped in all the times we’d driven from Cody to Denver: Hell’s Half Acre. How I’d never stopped here was beyond me; it’s amazing the places you’ll see when you stop for a spliffypoo.

But even beyond spliff stops, we realized our stopping to explore was just indicative of that life-on-the-road flow --- namely: that this is life. Life itself genuinely becomes not so much about the destination as about the experience of journeying. And even though we had a destination and a reason to get there sooner than later, our attitude, having our hangout place conveniently with us wherever we took it, was to stop and enjoy some hang outs along the way.

As I lit the spliff and we walked along the fence, marveling at the landscape, we saw a big hole under the fence and the evidence of many people having gone under. Under we went, and out onto the lip of Hell’s Half Acre.

After a final gas and McDonald’s french frie, latte, and mcflurry stop in Thermopolis, we enjoyed the our first sunset in Tortigra on the final leg to Cody.

Finally, around 9 pm, we pulled into home and I dropped Alicia off at the hospital.

Then I came home in Tortigra and showed her to Peter, Rosie, Rawhide, and Lady.

epilogue ~ everything in its season

Since I’ve been home, a couple funny and wonderful things have happened.

First, Graham texted me to let me know the guy who had put the deposit down on the Odyssey backed out. If I was still interested in the Odyssey, it was still available.

In response, I sent him a photo of me and Tortigra.

And I smiled at how funny the Universe is, feeling all the more as though some divine hand had swooped in just long enough to make sure I didn’t buy the Odyssey (since my destiny was Tortigra), and had let go as soon as all was in the clear.

There wasn’t even a small part of me that wished or wondered if the Odyssey was for me.

I had what was mine.


Secondly, and much more specially, Kyle and Danielle invited me to meet them for the Fourth of July. They’re going camping with their group of camping friends and wanted to know if I’d like to meet up with them all (I’m sure they would all be absolutely tickled to see their old friend Olaf, now Tortigra!). I’m so touched and included by their invitation. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it, and, I know I’ll be seeing them on the road.

Because Kyle also recently messaged me a picture of an absolutely amazing Mercedes RV he and Danielle are looking into buying. Initially, they'd just planned to find a pull-behind to replace Olaf, but now they’re looking for something more comprehensive. Because ... they just might be spending next year living on the road full time, too.

Looks like it won’t only be us women out there, after all, hey? 😁

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