Índice para Nine: October/November 2018 em ROVA

Dustin and Noami More than two years ago, we decided to pursue a life of simplicity and travel. We weren’t seeking comfort or an easy life; we were seeking a life of intention and purpose. Since then, we’ve found ourselves drawn to less, with a realization that we don’t need much to be happy. And the things we value now are not things at all. Instagram: @irietoaurora Tyler It is on an isolated two-lane highway, through dense stands of pine trees, where true peace of mind is found. No destination in mind, windows down and Turnpike Troubadours on the stereo; the ultimate sense of freedom is in the wind. This is why I choose the road. Instagram: @atoyotacalledamelia Steve and Britt Why the road? It’s simple: Alabama. Alaska. Arizona. Arkansas.…

Mama always said not to talk to strangers—especially not to tell them your whole life story—but here I am in this Uber, in downtown Austin, telling an autobiography’s worth of information to two very inquisitive older ladies. “I’ve been living here for”—a quick mental calculation—“14 years now,” I tell them. Saying that time frame out loud, something clicks: I realize that this marks the point in my geographically split life where I’ve spent an equal number of years in both of my home countries. The thought of that makes my little heart smile big; but it also makes me a little sad. After this year, I will be more American than I am Jamaican. From this point on, I will have spent most of my life here in the United…

The sun was setting when Deva drove us past the “No Camping” sign. We paid it no mind. It was our last night together, and the Columbia River was calling us. We set up her tent on the sand, reveling in our isolation between the forest and the water. We had discovered the freedom of possibility in our spontaneous meeting, and we knew nothing could take it away. I had met Deva three nights prior during a street festival in Portland. I was 24, hitchhiking around the west, seeking inspiration in the unexpected. That night, I was low on money and had no place to sleep, and the night was growing cold. Hauling my pack through the crowd, I noticed a dark-haired woman dancing on top of a van. She…

I have received my first ROVA magazine ever (Adventure Eight) and can’t stop raving about it. Such a beautiful and inspiring magazine! So, thank you for that. — Wesley W Your story on full-time families in the new edition was so lovely—it makes us realize the gift that we can give our children by taking them out on the road. Can’t wait to start our adventures with our little family. — Leanne R Every time I open my mailbox and find a copy of ROVA, I do a little happy dance. Nothing beats getting home from work and finding this inspiration for a someday road trip. Thank you! — Megan C I am working on my van at the moment, and I want to hit the road when it’s done,…

Recently, I woke up in the back of a Tesla in the middle of a forest. After a quick freak-out thinking that I’d been kidnapped (who wakes up in the back of an electric car in the forest?), I remembered that I was, in fact, supposed to be there. I was testing out the Tesla Model X’s unofficial “camp mode” by sleeping in the vehicle in a forest in upstate New York. Times are changing for RVers and road-trippers. The new contingent of tarmac-loving travelers is seeking adventure and freedom, while also valuing sustainability and a thoughtful approach to seeing the country. Less important these days are the bells and whistles of road travel—many younger road-trippers would prefer a solar setup on their roof over a satellite dish. As long…

I went to the desert with my family after months of traveling through Washington, Oregon, and most of California. We were driving to Joshua Tree when we heard about an event in Quartzite, Arizona, where a bunch of other skoolies were getting together. As soon as we drove onto the land, the desert started to grow on me. I fell in love with how open and free it feels—and it was the first time I had that feeling after months on the road. There’s something about the warm days and the cool nights of a desert that we love. The sunsets are incredible, each night seeming better than the previous. Being a photographer, I can’t help watching and shooting the sunset almost every night. Our kids absolutely love the desert;…

As the sun rises over Palo Duro Canyon near Amarillo, Texas, a gentle breeze whispers through the mesquite. Stop and listen. You can almost hear the sound of Comanche ghost horses running in the canyon. The winds of history still blow—not just in this canyon, but through all aspects of life in the Texas Panhandle. Maybe it’s the longhorn cattle trotting down Polk Street in Amarillo before the rodeo. Perhaps it’s the rickety old windmills pumping water for cattle. Or it could be the dry, rugged terrain that makes Amarillo seem like the perfect setting for an old John Wayne movie. There’s no doubt that anyone searching for a true taste of old Texas will find it here among modern-day cowgirls and cowboys whose roots and ranches go back to…

What if I told you that social media was ruining life on the road; would you believe me? While the craze of social media—specifically Instagram—has created an unprecedented love for the outdoors, it has also affected the landscape of road life—especially boondocking. Our Instagram accounts are inundated with glorious photos of unfamiliar places that make us want to see them for ourselves. This reaction is natural, but the problem is that we’re all responding to these photos the same way: putting them on our “must visit” lists. Many of these natural locations can’t handle the influx of visitors. Sadly, this is also happening to boondocking sites (undeveloped campsites without water, electric hookups, or dump stations). As travelers like us share incredible photos of our homes on wheels parked among craggy…

There are plenty of unique things to see and do in the United States: the country is covered with inexplicably enlarged foodstuffs (think Georgia’s giant peanut, New Mexico’s giant pistachio and California’s giant artichoke); museums dedicated to virtually everything (bad art in Boston, barbed wire in Texas, sex in New York); and a range of specialty stores, hand-built structures and natural curiosities. We’ve put together a few of our favorite American oddities—there’s no rhyme or reason to this list, except that the staffers here at ROVA are fascinated by them, and they’re all part of what makes America such a fun place to explore. The Sunken City, California In 1929, a landslide ushered a neighborhood in San Pedro, California, off the edge of a cliff, leaving in its wake buckled…

I had heard of it for years—this overlooked part of the California coast. Ever since I started roaming up and down the coastline of the west, I’d hear people talk about the area. “Have you ever been? You should go,” they would say. I had never been, nor did I know much about it, but recently a couple of friends of mine started talking about making the trek from north to south. They wanted to hike the 25 miles of rugged coastline with gear and surfboards on their backs in the hope of getting away and scoring some waves. It’s called “The Lost Coast,” as there are no direct roads that venture there. When they built Highway One years ago, they had to divert the road 30 miles inland due…

There’s an oft-cited statistic that Minnesota has more shoreline than California, Florida and Hawaii combined. Investigation on the topic yields varying results, but the consensus seems to be that it’s true—and if it’s not, it’s damn close, which is impressive nonetheless. Minnesota is pocked with 11,842 lakes boasting 44,000 miles of shoreline, and while that much waterfront real estate is compelling enough for a trip up north, the fun stuff that you can find lakeside enhances the appeal of this water-infused state. From historical mapmaking errors to hidden beaches, waterfront boozing and singing rocks, Minnesota’s lakes are unique to say the least. Your map’s wrong… Back in the late 1700s, when America’s formal boundaries were established with the Treaty of Paris, an error involving the mouth of the Mississippi River…