The Road Less Traveled is the seventh installment of Finding My Way Home. To view the previous installment, click here. If you wish to start from the beginning, click here. This is the ongoing story of the six years I spent as a vagabond photographer.

Many of my friends and family look at my life and see it as one long vacation. Actually, I kind of thought of it that way too, in the beginning. But, as time goes on, the differences between being a full-time traveler and a vacationer become clear. My list of destinations and places I want to go are far flung. Unlike a vacation, there is no time limit on reaching the destination, and no deadline for, nor place to return. So rather than driving nonstop for hours to get someplace, I am free to take my time and explore along the way. This leads me to spend time in many places few people visit. The road less traveled, if you will.

There you have it. That’s how I ended up just outside Willits, California in a winter storm, with no Wi-Fi, no cell service, and no tv. When I pull in, it’s just a stop along the way to the central valley. A place to hang out for a week or so in February and a chance to look up a friend from my working days. By now, I have experienced no Wi-Fi, no cell service or no tv reception at one place or another. This is my first experience of having none of the above, all at once. I can get Wi-Fi if I hike up a hill to the office/laundry room. I can get cell service if I drive down the road about ten miles. No big deal, I think. It’s only a week. Then the rain started. Not just drizzle or sprinkles—full on pouring rain for days.

Reading! That’s how I will keep myself occupied till the storm passes. I will catch up on my reading. Alas, I have already finished the few books I brought with me and everything on my Kindle. I hike up the hill to the Wi-Fi to download a book or two. Unbelievably, the connection is too slow even to download a book. I try to check my email and fail. This place claims to have Wi-Fi, but it is unusable. Back to the RV I go. When I get there, I notice the electric cord connection to the surge protector is very close to being underwater. With no way to elevate it, I turn off the breaker out of concern for my safety and fear of damage to my motor home.

You’re probably thinking, why doesn’t she just leave? Believe me, I thought about it, but in my estimation, it’s better to be stationary during a storm than traveling. Especially a storm that involves high winds. Driving a giant box in the wind is downright scary. Also, winter storms in the Pacific Northwest are rarely localized. I would have to drive a long way to evade it.

The next morning, the rain has stopped and the ankle deep water around my RV has soaked in. I feel safe turning the power back on. The birds are singing and things are looking up. I’ve made contact with my old friend and we are meeting for lunch. I will leave early so I can make a couple of phone calls and look some things up on the internet while I’m in town with a signal. I will also download a couple of books so I have something to read. When on the road less traveled, I need to plan better. It never occurred to me that I would be lonely because I have always enjoyed solitude. As it turns out, there is a fine line between solitude and loneliness, and it has a lot to do with choice. This really is the road less traveled.

By now, January has turned to February and I’ve decided to spend some time in the central valley of California where the weather is already springlike and the wildlife refuges are abundant. Once again, my choice of places to stay is limited since the area I’m aiming for isn’t a popular tourist area. I manage to find an RV park that allows monthly stays near Colusa, California. I’m excited to visit the Colusa National Wildlife Refuge, the Sacramento National Wildlife Refuge and the Gray Lodge State Wildlife Area. I will also be near the Sacramento River and the Sutter Buttes, which is often referred to as “the world’s smallest mountain range.”

After my week of relative isolation and drenching rain, outgoing people and sunshine were just what I need. Luckily, that’s exactly what I find at Lovey’s Landing near Colusa, California. My month here will be spent traveling almost every day to one wildlife refuge or another. The spring migration is in full swing and many birds are already claiming their nesting sites and participating in courtship rituals. At Gray Lodge, I discover a very large rookery where great egrets, great blue herons and double-crested cormorants all build their nests, hatch their eggs and raise their chicks. They are at the height of activity, claiming sites, building nests and showing off for their mates.

When I’m not working on my wildlife photography skills, I’m taking care of some of the logistics surrounding my new lifestyle. If you’ve never lived full time on the road, then you’ve likely never heard of “domiciling.” Everyone needs to have an address for tax and other official purposes, even if you spend all your time traveling. After researching this, I have decided on domiciling in South Dakota, which is one of three states that allow residency to people who don’t actually live there. (The others are Texas and Florida.) I’ve already set up my mail to come to my official address in South Dakota. For an annual fee, I get an address and a service that will send me my mail whenever I ask. Most RV parks are okay with receiving packages for their guests, since a lot of people do exactly what I am doing. The other part of domiciling is registering vehicles. I can do the vehicle registration remotely (again, for a fee), and since my vehicle registration is expiring soon, I will take care of that while I am here.

Chris comes to visit for a couple of weeks since I am not too far from where he lives. The whole month has gone by incredibly fast and next thing I know I am saying goodbye to him and this place and heading south. I would have liked my next stop to be Santa Cruz, California, or somewhere near there. My daughter is living in Aptos, and I want to visit her. After searching in vain for an affordable place to park, I gave up and settled for Santa Nella. It’s roughly a seventy mile drive to visit her, but that turns out to be more feasible than the prices they charge for RV sites in the Santa Cruz area. Santa Nella is also near a couple of wildlife refuges. On my way there, I end up in front of an apartment complex in Stockton with the GPS announcing to me that I have arrived at my destination. Okay, now I’m really done listening to that thing!

My plan was to stay in Santa Nella for one week and then move on to the Mojave Desert. But, while there, I notice that I am a little over a hundred miles from Yosemite National Park, one of my favorite places on earth. Also, my daughter’s busy schedule makes finding a day to visit difficult. So, I prolong my stay an extra week. Santa Nella is an interesting place. It is located at the convergence of three major highways, so a lot of people pass through on their way to somewhere else. The RV park I’m staying at is full nearly every night, but empty by noon. Around four in the afternoon, it starts to fill up until it is again full by dark. This cycle happens every day. There is no grocery store in town, but there are at least ten fast food places and a handful of restaurants. It’s tempting to eat out every day, but thankfully my budget doesn’t allow it. The nearest grocery store is twelve miles away in Los Banos, which is also between me and a wildlife refuge, so it’s no problem to shop on my way back from visiting the birds.