I have spent the past 9 days trekking across the county. Tomorrow we arrive at our destination—Asheville, North Carolina. This is the 8th year in which my wife and I have spent summer and fall in constant motion. To say this year is different would be a vast understatement.
Lynn has family business to take care of in Asheville. I did some research on virus transmission on airplanes and quickly ruled out a plane flight. A strict quarantine is absolutely necessary.
So we travel by RV. No winery visits. No restaurants. No art museums. No ball games. No strolling through city streets. No botanical gardens, national parks, or wildlife preserves. No photo ops.
We pull our kitchen full of provisions and a bathroom. We fuel only where credit card transactions happen at the pump. Most campgrounds have remote check-in.
I have not spoken to anyone except for my wife in 9 days. The only excitement is anticipating which song my Pandora stations will play next.
In two weeks we turn around and do it in the opposite direction.
This is a pure form of travel where only the motion matters.