Six Years, Two Suitcases, and Twelve Lessons from a Life on the Road
Six years ago, on a beach in San Pancho, Mexico, we asked ourselves a simple question:
What would we do if we weren’t afraid?
Five months later, we’d sold our house, downsized to a tiny storage unit, and hit the road—launching six years of vagabonding across the U.S., South America, Mexico, and beyond.
Was it easy letting go of “all the things” and launching into the unknown? Heck no. But what worthwhile thing ever is?
Then came the ultimate plot twist: COVID. Six months of carefully laid travel plans . . . gone overnight. (What?!)
But, no quitters here.
We switched gears and did the Pandemic Shuffle: zigzagging across the U.S., chasing the sun, dodging the ’vid. When the world opened again, we spent six magical months in Mexico before realizing we were ready for a home base.
Which brings us to now: settled in our favorite mountain town just outside Asheville, North Carolina. We knew it was home when we kept finding our way back here—again and again—throughout our years on the road.
The journey was unforgettable, and easily one of the best decisions we ever made.
12 Lessons Learned
Home isn’t a place—it’s wherever we are, right here, right now.
Trust life. Make plans, yes. (We were very planful!) Then, loosen your grip and let intuition + flow take the lead. The unexpected surprises were far better than anything we could have engineered.
The world is kind. Truly. Wonderful people are everywhere. Yes, there are nefarious humans out there, but in six years we met maybe one or two sketchy characters total.
Fear is a doorway. Great things wait on the other side.
Gratitude changes everything. For this earth. For each other. For the journey.
Nature heals. It’s medicine. Period.
Question assumptions and fake news. Much of the world we’re taught to think of as “less developed” is often more modern—and safer—than we’re told.
Abundance isn’t chased. It’s received. Allowed. Welcomed.
The earth is MAGICAL. Surprises and synchronicities wait around every corner, if we’re present enough to notice.
We are resilient. We can adjust, flex, and be courageous in more ways than our rational minds want us to believe.
Circumstances matter less than state of being. It’s not what’s happening, but the story we tell about it, that makes all the difference.
We thought 24/7 togetherness would drive us bonkers. Instead, it wove us closer.
I could keep going. This is Earth School, after all. Six years of wandering taught us a lot. But we’ll leave it there for now.
Here’s a small slideshow from our gazillion photos (use arrows to scroll):
Other Popular FAQs Through the Years
What was the hardest part?
Every life has potholes—vagabonding was no exception! Each new location meant starting over—new routines, new grocery stores, gyms, landlords, neighbors, recycling rules (if there was recycling), new smoke alarms (OMFG the smoke alarms).
It took a lot of flexibility and presence, but it was worth it. It taught us even more about trusting the flow and living in the moment.
Funniest story?
A tie:
The time a mama bear and her cub broke into our New Hampshire cabin at dawn and stole Greg’s prized bag of walnuts, almonds, and cashews. He chased them out banging pots together… in his boxers.
Greg’s Medellín haircut. He tried (via charades) to say “no fade.” He walked out looking like the Fonz from Happy Days. (Sorry, no photo! In the early days, we were bad at remembering to take photos of ourselves.)
Where did you stay—RV? Tent? Couch-surfing?
According to Greg’s calculations, we lived in at least thirty-eight different homes across the U.S., South America, Mexico, and beyond (most likely more than that)—and that doesn’t include the inns, hotels, or one-night pit stops along the way. Mostly Airbnbs, VRBOs, and short-term leases: houses, cabins, condos.
We prioritized nature and off-the-beaten-path spots, with a few cities mixed in. With the exception of our time in Patagonia, we usually stayed at least two weeks and sometimes up to six months.
(Without Greg’s patience for sifting through the “cats and dogs” to find the right homes, we probably would’ve quit years ago. I have zero juju for that.)
How far in advance did you plan?
B.C.(Before Covid), we loosely mapped six months to a year. During Covid, it was more like 3-6 months out. The mad surge of remote workers snatching up rentals during the plague made it harder to find the good ones, but between planning, intuition, and trust, we always seemed to land exactly where we were meant to be.
How did you stay healthy?
We built trips around nature: hiking, biking, kayaking. In cities, we walked everywhere and joined gyms. Even the tiny towns seemed to have at least one gym. (I couldn’t give up my squats!) Fresh produce was easy to find; almond or oat milk, too. Honestly, we were healthier on the road than before.
Mail?
A virtual service called Traveling Mailbox scanned and forwarded our mail to our email. Easy.
What did the newly-retired Greg do while you worked?
Ha. So many people asked this. Vagabonding is a full-time job: researching, planning, booking, moving, adjusting. It’s one of those things you don’t fully understand unless you do it. Greg was our Master Planner; I pinch-hit, while keeping up with my coaching practice. It worked.
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PS- If you want the deeper backstory, check out the prequel to our traveling journey in my upcoming memoir Into the Flow (July 2026!)
