Traveling Weather

Thought on finding yourself in the throws of weather as you travel.

By

As Halloween wound down last night, as these youngsters and ladies I call my family were all tucked into our respective positions in this tin can Airstream life on the road, I stood outside beneath an overcast Asheville sky and watched as the snow began to fall.

We end up traveling through a significant amount of weather. Blowing wind off the Delaware Coast. Weeks on end of rain in Northern California. Snow fall from Mesa Verde to North Carolina.

This is all easily avoidable. Arizona, Texas, these are places where fair weather is ever-present. No hurricanes, no rainfall, no snowstorms, no tornados. But what experience is there in that? Simplicity, easiness, it all grows quickly into complacency and the notion of travel is whittled down to a summer fling with anything north of the 35th Parallel.

I enjoy autumn leaves. We arrive at a destination and discover it too amazing to abandon simply because the number of weeks of sunshine are dwindling to a close. Even more, and I love a blue sky day where a t-shirt is optional as much as the next human being, the experience of seasons, of weather, is part of the human experience.

Snowflakes on your tongue can’t be had without crispy bitter fingertips. The sheen of autumn leaves is accompanied by cold nights. April showers are a must for the smell of spring flowers to be had.

Just as those who choose to live in one location–be it eight months of winter in Wyoming or 105° summers off the tip of Florida–simply dress appropriately for the season, finding respite near a warm fire or a dip in the ocean, so can travelers learn to simply prepare for weather and find an enjoyment in it that is impossible if we simply grasp on to perfect temperatures all year round.

Without lows, there cannot be highs; only moderation. Without rain, sunshine just becomes normal, no longer a thrilling way to begin the day, but just another spin ’round the calendar.

So as I crawled into my bed in our van, as I turned on the remake of Fright Night and tucked into a warm blanket to celebrate Halloween, I was happy to see the snow falling. And as Wylder woke up and crawled into bed with the Lady and I, as his little learning-to-speak voice said, “Snow on that car! Believe it?”, well there wasn’t a shred of unhappiness in my waking yawns.

Just the promise of a good snowball fight.