Day 20 - Day 21: Three Weeks on the Road
When I pulled into my Airbnb yesterday, I didn’t know what to expect. The listing looked nice enough in photos, and at $360 for three nights—with laundry and a kitchen included—it felt like a good deal. But the place was right off a main road, and the area itself felt a little sketchy.
Still, I wasn’t planning to go anywhere for the next few days. I wanted rest, groceries, and a reset.
Settling In
I stopped by a nearby Grocery Outlet and picked up some easy-to-make food. Back at the Airbnb, I realized something I had missed in my fog of arrival: there was no stovetop. Thankfully, the host had left a small portable burner. I laughed at myself, set it up, and made a big batch of fettuccine with meatballs—meals to last me through the next couple of days.
The rest of my time here has been quiet: writing, cooking, catching up on laundry, and finally getting some much-needed sleep. I didn’t even turn on the TV.
Thinking About What’s Next
With three weeks of travel behind me, I’ve started thinking about where to head next. The REI Labor Day sale starts soon in Beaverton, so I booked a tiny home in the area for August 20–22.
The host there has already been so kind and engaging. She recommended Naked Falls—a BLM in Washington t that requires a pass—and even offered her address so I could ship gear there if I needed. She went so far as to offer me discounted extra nights later this month. Her generosity surprised me; she felt less like a host and more like someone rooting for me along this journey. I told her I appreciated her offer, but I couldn’t commit yet. I half-joked that my road trip ends when either the budget is blown or the dog food runs out.
In the back of my mind, I know I planned to begin heading home by the weekend. I feel caught between two things: not ready to go back, but also not feeling fully excited about settling in Oregon or Washington. Stuck in the middle.
Small Frustrations, Real Lessons
Of course, road life comes with its little hiccups. My toothbrush went missing—I’m almost sure I left it in the hotel bathroom the night before, but housekeeping couldn’t find it. So I ended up using Costco same-day delivery to order a new one. Another not so small expense, another reminder that living this way adds up.
It’s clearer to me now why people who car camp can save so much money on the road. Airbnb, hotels, eating out—it all stacks quickly. And while I’m grateful for the comforts these places offer, I’m also learning what this lifestyle truly costs, not just financially but emotionally.
Sitting With the Question
Three weeks in, I still don’t have answers. I don’t know if Oregon or Washington will ever feel like home. I don’t know if I’m ready to return to California. But I do know this pause—these slow, quiet days in a simple Airbnb—are part of the journey too.
Sometimes the road is about movement. And sometimes, it’s about sitting still long enough to hear what you really feel.
