Like most nomads, my bottom line is freedom. Life on the road is stressful, weird, and unpredictable, but that’s a fair price to pay for total independence. COVID quickly changed that, but not in the way you might expect. When everyone on the planet is trying to escape reality it’s easy to assume nomadic life is a perfect answer, but I promise it’s not. Small towns don’t want visitors, public lands are off-limits, and running away to adventure into the woods is, frankly, selfish. It’s the wrong time to push limits, get hurt, and add stress to an already over-taxed healthcare system.
What options does that leave nomads like me? Shelter-in-place looks different when your “house” has less than 100 cubic feet of livable space. The TacoMama, built for freedom, quickly became a lonely hell hole. Daily routines—visiting friends, working in a coffee shop, going to a local gym—were off the table. Think twelve hours of Netflix on a couch is brutal? Trying sitting in a car seat instead.
When experts began suggesting social distancing could last months, I was in Mammoth Lakes, California. A winter storm was firing and powder laps provided a much needed break from reality, but we knew a bigger, less fun storm was brewing. Similar mountain towns began issuing closures and rumors that both Alterra and Vail would close resorts were spreading. I needed a place to hole up, and despite a crowdsourced spreadsheet shared by a close friend, offering nomads like myself places to park, bedrooms, and bathrooms during this crisis, I didn’t want to rely on hospitality outside my family, generous as said strangers may be.