I've never really understood people that have no desire to travel. Having other obligations is one thing, but not even
wanting to see new places makes no sense to me. Maybe it's a comfort-zone thing? Sure, at times the road can be unforgiving, but the highs have always been worth the lows. Even the lows become cherished memories with time. I've spent plenty of time with my head in the engine compartment hundreds of miles from home and will readily admit that it wasn't really fun at the time.
In retrospect, those hiccups were just the price of admission to some of the most amazing places I've ever seen. In a strange way, they are also part of what makes traveling in the bus such an adventure. Hills become trophies when you only have 50hp to work with. The world feels big again, more like it did when you were younger. We've been fortunate enough to see so much of it this year; photos don't ever do justice to the real thing but nonetheless:
In retrospect, those hiccups were just the price of admission to some of the most amazing places I've ever seen. In a strange way, they are also part of what makes traveling in the bus such an adventure. Hills become trophies when you only have 50hp to work with. The world feels big again, more like it did when you were younger. We've been fortunate enough to see so much of it this year; photos don't ever do justice to the real thing but nonetheless:
