Ashland was a lovely, short stay. The inland detour brought a welcome change—swapping the cool, misty coast for the heat of southern Oregon—but today marked the beginning of my return home. I backtracked from Ashland to Grant’s Pass, then pointed my car toward Crescent City, ready to greet the redwoods and the cooler coastal air again.

It was just past midnight and I was three hours into trying to sleep in the back of my Honda Passport. My first attempt at “car camping” wasn’t going smoothly. The night was hot, the little fan I brought pointed at Max, and I lay restless, thoughts swirling: What if Max barks? What if I get caught? What would I do if someone notices?

As I left the waterfront hotel along the Columbia River, I realized I had been on the road for almost three weeks. Today, I checked into an affordable Airbnb inland, where I plan to stay for the next three nights. Max will get a little rest from the constant motion, and I’ll have time to catch up on my writing. Slowing down, I finally have space to reflect.

I decided the best way to survive my stay was by not being in the hotel as much as possible. In the morning, I did a little stock trading, then started getting ready to head out when I heard a knock on my door. Two men stood there saying they needed to clean the A/C. I remembered seeing a note taped to my door when I checked in last night, but I thought it was for next week.

I woke up early to check UPS tracking for my Costco order, and sure enough—it was scheduled to arrive today. At 9:30 a.m., I called Costco to ask how long it usually takes from delivery to processing. The woman told me UPS comes around 10:30, so to check back then.

I was so happy to leave the Motel-6-esque hotel in Astoria. It drizzled that morning, and Ashley was once again covered in water spots. Today, my destination was Seaside, Oregon, a few towns south of Astoria. But first, I had a few stops planned along the way.

It was sad to check out of my hotel in Cedar Hills. I had grown so comfortable there that, honestly, I could have stayed permanently. But I had accomplished what I needed—rest, recharging, and enough time for all my Amazon deliveries to arrive. Now it was time to move again.

After two quiet days in my Airbnb cocoon, it was time to move again. Honestly, I barely left that tiny house. Other than walking Max for potty breaks and saying hi to Ashley parked outside, I spent my time curled up binge-watching Netflix, letting myself just be. Travel doesn’t always need to be nonstop adventure; sometimes it’s about pressing pause and giving your body and mind a chance to rest.

After a few days of hotels, waterfront walks, and catching up with old friends, Day six was about reality. Laundry, car washes, errands, and figuring out where to land next.

Ashley had collected another army of bugs on the drive from Bend to Vancouver, WA, so before leaving the hotel on the waterfront, I went in search of a self-serve car wash. Vancouver has a beautiful new waterfront area, but once I drove around the neighborhoods, I wasn’t impressed. The city felt stuck somewhere between the ’70s and ’90s—flat land, tired strip malls, dead grass, and little in the way of charm. No Whole Foods, no inviting local restaurants, nothing that made me feel like I could see myself there.

I woke up excited this morning, curious to see how much of yesterday’s storm had washed the dirt off Ashley. The rain had done a decent job, but I still wanted to give her a little extra attention. While Rusti was still sleeping, I decided to film a demo of the cleaner I had brought along for the trip—Giotechniq’s Bug Remover that I picked up before leaving home. It worked beautifully, rinsing away the last of the stubborn bugs clinging to Ashley’s hood and windshield. There’s something oddly satisfying about caring for a car that feels like a companion on the road.

This morning, Max and I left Paso Robles at 8:30, feeling rested and ready for another day on the road. I had a plan—stick to a more direct route—but against my better judgment, I let curiosity win and took Highway 101. It added more time than I expected, and what I thought would be a manageable drive stretched into a nine-hour marathon.

Today marked the beginning of something I’ve been dreaming about for a while: hitting the road and seeing where it leads me. Packing up the car felt both thrilling and strange—like closing one chapter and opening another. Max watched me with his usual anxious eyes, unsure of what all the commotion meant. Truth be told, I was just as unsure as he was.