Innehållsförteckning för Sixteen: December/January 2019/2020 från ROVA

During a year of full-time travel, one of the phrases I found myself repeating to folks was: “The hardest part is breaking away.” Living in a postage stamp–sized RV without a physically present social circle for a solid year, my wife and I met plenty of new people. We like craft beer and we have two tiny, loud dogs that get more attention than they deserve. So, we arrived, we fraternized, we barked, and we chatted. The “Where are you from?” question always came up, and was often met with the new local acquaintance expressing some version of, “Wow, I wish I could do that!” when they learned what we were up to. And I’d always say: “The hardest part is breaking away.” It was always meant as advice for…

Whatever you think of when you think of long-haul trucking, it’s not Kasper Kavalaris. Kasper grew up in the Midwest and earned an Associate Degree in Illustration from the American Academy of Art in Chicago. He went on to study classical painting and drawing under a master in Florence, Italy for three years. As a freelance illustrator, Kasper worked with several prestigious clients, but ultimately couldn’t make enough money to survive. Back in the States, he knew he wanted to pursue filmmaking, but he also needed to make some money. He looked up the highest-paying entry-level jobs, and, despite knowing nothing about the work, decided to give trucking a go—because it sounded like an adventure. I spoke with Kasper about his job, the road, and what he’s learned on his…

As modern jobs allow us more freedom to work remotely, many people are following their wanderlust and finding their homes on the road. A new subculture of nomads is emerging, evolving and flourishing. The rigs are as unique as their owners; buses, ambulances, vans, expedition trucks, RVs, Airstreams, motorcycles and more are setting off to explore the globe. As these nomadic road warriors grow in number, we can see them forming smaller niche groups within the subculture. While you’ll find for the most part that all of the groups are welcoming—the road provides a camaraderie between all adventure-seekers—there are some subtle differences to be found in their lifestyles. Van life Van life most simply refers to people living in a van. While technically the “life” part of the name lends…

I think we’re all guilty of it nowadays: the allure of the road, of far-off places on an ever-changing horizon. With the constant whirlwind of incredible images and stories at our fingertips, it’s far too easy to get caught up in looking toward the next destination—so much so that we often don’t take the time to look back. I’m guilty of it myself. This year, I’d spent more time away from home than ever before. And as great of an experience as travel can be, I couldn’t help but feel that I hadn’t had a moment to catch my breath, and process these memories. Fall is a time of reflection for me. A figurative bookend that marks the end of each year. A time when the busy summer season has…

It’s probably not common knowledge, but New Mexico was the first state in the country to kick off a couple of things that comprise at least 50 percent of my interests in life: wilderness areas and wine. For decades, Napa and Sonoma have worn matching crowns of America’s best wine regions, but they don’t have the history that New Mexico does. Legend (well, actually, legit history and facts) has it that in the 1620s, a friar and a monk named García de Zúñiga and Antonio de Arteaga smuggled grapes out of their home country of Spain, and planted the first wine grapes in New Mexico’s Rio Grande Valley, thus creating the oldest wine country in America. Some 300 years later, a United States Forest Service supervisor and conservation hero named…

How am I only just discovering ROVA now? You have FIFTEEN editions? I’d better get to reading. Love your work! Christie L Don’t get me wrong—I love the articles in ROVA. But I really, really love the photos in each edition. I feel like I get to travel a little, even if I rarely have enough time to hit the road. Shannon D I read outdoor magazines a lot, but I don’t think many of them make me cry. Skyler Kerouac’s article about her mother [ROVA Adventure Fifteen] was a beautiful tribute to both a strong woman and the power of nature—and it definitely brought a tear to my eye. Hollie P Thank you, Jeremy Puglisi, for your article about your Coleman addiction [ROVA Adventure 15]. I, too, suffer from…

Grace Two words: public lands. Millions of acres in the west, owned collectively by every citizen. Prime real estate spread over the American west that’s flanked by red rocks, and ranges of slate and sand canyons. We wanted a home but didn’t know where. This way, we didn’t have to choose. Instagram: @agracekuhn Thomas, Jonathan, Grace and Charlotte It wasn’t our intention to have more than one child—let alone two newborns a mere five weeks apart in age—but it was one of the best decisions we’ve ever made. We are living our dreams, traveling America as a family in our Airstream, and showing our girls all that our country has to offer. We hope to give them a different perspective of the world that they live in. We also plan…

The movement towards digital detoxing and communing with nature is not a fad; as technology gobbles up every spare moment of our day-to-day lives, we find ourselves dreaming of time and space outside of it. This is something that’s driving folks out of cities and into nature—many of them for a quick breather from the daily grind. Jennifer Young, who is the cofounder and GMO of industry game-changer Outdoorsy—an RV rental service that connects RV owners with renters—says that this need to switch off is pushing more people to find ways to reach the outdoors. “We live in a time where technology is at the core of our daily lives—it’s how we order our coffee, how we buy clothes, how we schedule our grocery pickup and how we work,” Jennifer…

Palm Springs sits like a jewel in the desert—a boozy oasis, a time capsule of antique, mid-century idealism. To get there from Los Angeles requires nothing more than getting on I-10 and breaking free of civilization. Some vacations begin the minute you start packing the car. Others don’t start until you hit the road. Personally, I find that a Palm Springs vacation doesn’t start until you’re sitting by the pool with a drink in your hand. The drive on the 10 is a trip through the sprawl—a trip that my wife and I recently made. Along the way, you pass San Bernardino and Riverside. These places blend together as a mega-city of outlet malls and industrial parks. There are exits. Many, many exits. Exits for gas, exits for shopping, exits…

Younger generations are exploring the outdoors at increasing rates, according to the 2019 North American Camping Report. Millennials (ages 23 to 38 in 2019) make up the largest segment of campers, at 41 percent, and now that they’re starting to grow up and have families, they’re bringing their Gen Z children (ages 7 to 22 in 2019) along with them. Out of all the millennial campers, 54 percent camp with their children. So, what’s driving this love for the outdoors, which seems counter to what people think of the “tech-obsessed” youth? It seems that younger folks value time outside because it’s providing sanctuary to them in a time of information overload. The media-crazed, screen-oriented world of the 21st century provides little breathing room. Those of us who grew up during…

Winter in Wyoming is cold—especially in a van conversion as primitive as mine. But with a lack of insulation comes a greater immediacy of the snowbound lifestyle I’m happy to be living—when you’re holed up in any unheated structure in the winter, it’s impossible to forget where you are, and what’s outside. Stuck in a parking lot during a snowstorm, I recall another chill in the Wyoming wilderness, and I am reminded why I sometimes don’t mind being frozen in place. The plow makes its third lap across the back of the parking lot. Again, the muted thwump of displaced snow hitting my rear bumper, and a spray of frost as the diesel-fueled shovel pushes past my van, digging for the buried asphalt. It dumped last night. The plows woke…

A gray giant glides through the clear, spring-fed river. We hold our breath; its whiskered nostrils break the surface to inhale as we exhale silent exclamations, gesturing to each other to “Look at that manatee!” Even though the adorable sea cow bypasses my kayak to surface next to my husband, Brian, my jealousy is tempered by the look on his face: that of a kid opening a long-wished-for present on Christmas Day. Since Florida manatees (Trichechus manatus latirostris) are protected under the Endangered Species Act, interactions have to be on their terms, requiring visitors like us to exercise patience and passive observance—a hard pill to swallow when one swims near you. However, if and when their curiosity leads them to visit your kayak, the excitement is amplified. It’s like when…

My affiliation with Thoreau’s transcendentalist philosophy began before I was born. My parents had settled on naming me Emerson—after the transcendentalist philosopher, Ralph Waldo Emerson—a few months before my birth. However, when they were handed the certificate, my dad got cold feet: “He’ll get beat up by all the other kids with a name like that.” Thus, Emerson was demoted to my middle name. I never did get beat up in school—I guess I have my dad’s hasty decision to thank for that—but Emerson, as well as all the other American transcendentalists, would come to have a profound impact on the way I view the world. My mother has been a reverential reader of the transcendentalists ever since she was an undergrad. Her bookshelves are lined with the likes of…