The Search is the seventeenth 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.

I always knew this day would come. I managed to keep enough savings to either buy a better RV, or put a down payment on a small house. I knew my motor home would eventually come to the end of it’s life expectancy. I just didn’t think it would be so soon. I figured I would have two or three or more years before this decision was upon me. But, here I am.

After a little more than a year, I feel as if I’ve only begun my adventure. Not only that, but I haven’t found any place I want to be for longer than a month at this point. I’m enjoying the road so much, I would be heartbroken to give it up. If I was to settle down, I have no idea where I would do so, and I’m terrified I would end up hating it. On the other hand, I love traveling, even with it’s downsides.

It sounds like an easy decision, but it’s not. All my life I have convinced myself to do the practical thing rather than the thing I desire. All my life I was trained to suffer now in exchange for a reward later. It’s still a difficult thing for me to cast aside the practical option for the fun one. To throw caution to the wind and trust that everything will work out fine is terrifying. But, here I am.

After a week or two of shopping online and calling dealers and private sellers, it becomes apparent that finding the right RV for me will not be easy or quick. It will also be hard to find one that is high quality and nearby in the price range I set for myself. I need to expand the search. I also need to move out of the freezing temperatures.

The northern California coast is notoriously wet in the winter, but rarely gets below freezing. I find a place in Fortuna that offers monthly accommodations in the winter, but requires a two-month commitment. I figure two months is long enough to find and purchase the perfect motor home. Chris decides he would rather spend the months of December and January at the coast than in the mountains, so off we go.

One of the great things about coastal weather is the wildlife. Birds flock to the coast in winter to escape much colder climates. The Humboldt Bay National Wildlife Refuge and the Fay Slough State Wildlife Area become regular trips for me. Both have populations of white-tailed kites, which are among my favorite birds to photograph. The Arcata Marsh is also a lovely place for walking and watching birds, but its popularity with locals means it’s usually more crowded than the others.

One day, while scanning the local Facebook groups in search of photo opportunities, I discover a reported sighting of a great grey owl. These owls are not endangered or even very rare, but their range is generally in mountain forests above 2000 feet in elevation. It is quite rare for one to be hanging out in the coastal redwoods at sea level. The sighting is at Prairie Creek Redwoods, about sixty miles north of me. I’m excited to go looking for this owl.

On the first trip, the search comes up empty. The owl is nowhere to be seen. Some of the resident Roosevelt Elk are out, though, so at least I come back with some wildlife photos. Next trip, I score! Not only is the owl there, but also a couple dozen photographers, many of whom have traveled hundreds of miles to see this celebrity bird. All together, I make several trips, and most times the owl makes an appearance. This is my first great grey owl and I can hardly contain my excitement!

Another holiday season is here and I’m happy to hear my children want to visit again. How convenient that the RV park has cabins available for rent. I arrange a few days for them to stay and explore the area with me. We take a nice drive through the redwoods and out to the “Lost Coast.” It’s a lovely visit, despite the cold and rain, and once again, I’m sad to say goodbye.

Meanwhile, the search for the perfect motor home continues. Okay, I realize perfect is not possible. Looking for the right combination of price, features and quality is difficult enough. Location matters, too. I have to consider the cost of traveling to pick it up. It’s taking much longer than I had hoped.

Finally, I spot a listing that looks promising. It’s located in Las Vegas. I call the seller for more information. After the call, it seems more promising than ever. But, I don’t want to travel that far just to look, and I don’t want to buy it “sight unseen.” I locate a service that will inspect the coach and report back to me. It seems reasonable and worth the cost, so I arrange to have it checked out.

The report is not only good, but great. The inspector tells me he has rarely seen a used motor home in such good condition and that if I decide not to buy it, he might! Okay, I’m convinced. I send the seller a deposit and make arrangements to fly to Las Vegas. My plan is to arrive around noon, take care of the sale transaction, spend the night and hit the road early in the morning. It should take me about two days to get back to Fortuna.

My plan soon falls apart. The airline cancels my morning flight and reschedules me on a noon flight. Still, I should get in around four in the afternoon and be able to complete the sale. Then they cancel my connecting flight. After spending nine hours in the San Francisco airport, I finally arrive in Vegas after midnight. I check into my room and get a few hours of sleep before meeting the seller and purchasing the motor home.

Since I didn’t get on the road until early afternoon Bakersfield is as far as I get. I Google Walmart because I need some supplies. When you buy an RV, it doesn’t come equipped and ready to camp. I need some bedding, toilet paper, plates and utensils, as well as food. The only store I find is a Walmart “neighborhood market,” so bedding is out. I can get food and toiletries. Since I’ve never before driven such a big vehicle, I am reluctant to go driving around town in the dark looking for a store.

I’m just about to get settled in, using some of my clothes wadded in a ball for a pillow, and the decorative bedspread for a blanket, when I hear a loud alarm noise. It’s the propane alarm. I press the button to silence it, but it only goes off again in a few minutes. After opening the door and several windows to air out the place, I realize the propane is entirely shut off. I haven’t turned it on because I don’t need to run anything that requires it.

By now I’m pretty sure the alarm is faulty and I need to disconnect it. Two phillips-head screws are preventing me from figuring out how to do that. Of course, I don’t have a screwdriver on me and I need to get some sleep if I am going to drive all day tomorrow. I decide to go on a screwdriver mission. By now, it’s around ten at night and the park office is closed. Most of the RV’s in the park are also dark. I spot one with interior lights on and go knocking. When the kind man comes to the door, I explain my dilemma. He gladly offers me the use of a screwdriver. I promise to leave it on his steps when I’m finished so he won’t have to answer the door again. I finally manage to disconnect the alarm, return the screwdriver and get some sleep.

The RV park is situated in a citrus grove. My stay for the night includes a dozen “you pick” navel oranges, which happen to be in season. The park has long handled orange pickers for guests to use. I pick my breakfast, plus a few oranges for the road and I’m off.

I’m hoping to make it all the way back to Fortuna today. Google maps says it’s about nine hours. I figure I can do that. What I didn’t figure is how exhausting it can be driving a huge, unfamiliar vehicle. Nor did I anticipate how stressful it would be with all the potholes and road damage rattling my new purchase. Every time I hit a huge bump or hole in the road, I picture screws loosening and things falling apart. By the time I reach Sacramento, I realize I’m not going to be able to do it. This time though, I know where to find a Walmart.

I pull in to the Willows, CA Walmart and find a place to park on the outskirts of the parking lot. I go in and buy some supplies. Food, drinks, utensils, a blanket and a pillow. I ask the cashier if it is okay to park overnight in their parking lot. He tells me the area where they would prefer I park. It happens to be the area where I am already parked. I call Chris and tell him that I will be taking another day to get back. I’m sure Luna thinks I have abandoned her by now. I will drive the final two hundred miles tomorrow.