Day 1: The First Miles

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.

We only made it about four miles that first stretch. Part of it was for Max, easing him into the idea of long hours in the car. But part of it was for me too. Since 2020, I’ve worked from home, and I’m out of practice behind the wheel. The road feels new to me again, like learning an old rhythm I’ve forgotten.

By noon, we were officially on our way. I’m breaking in my new Honda Passport—her name is Ashley—which I bought back in April. Since I got her, I’ve only driving 180 miles. This is our inaugural road trip together, and I’m already grateful for the sense of comfort and stability she gives me. By evening, we had reached Paso Robles, and Ashley’s odometer read 425 miles. A friend had recommended a hotel there, and it turned out to be just what I needed: clean, safe, and affordable.

After settling in, I found a little Italian restaurant within walking distance. Dinner was simple but satisfying, the kind of comfort food that makes you feel at ease in a new place. The night air was perfect—cool, gentle, and full of possibility.

This trip will eventually take us north to the lower part of Washington, though I don’t know exactly how the journey will unfold along the way. That uncertainty feels both scary and exciting. I sat outside, enjoying a delicious French baguette in the warm Paso Robles air, I couldn’t help but wonder what’s ahead—for Max, for Ashley, and for me. The first miles are always the hardest, but they’re also the most meaningful. They’re the ones that remind me: I’ve started.