I hadn’t seen my cousin Jodi in over 25 years. In the nearly 40 years I’ve been with Hali, she has never met Jodi. This past week our paths finally crossed.
Our adventures are quite similar as we all sold most of our “things”, planned a launch date, and are taking our time “slow and steady” exploring what our great country has to offer. They’ve traveled from Florida, us from Oregon. Just so happens we met in the middle- Illinois.
Jodi, and her husband Gary, set sail over three years ago in their fifty foot yacht, Country Dancer, from Seminole, Florida, and were anchored this week in the Chicago harbor.
Although their path is sailed along waterways and ours on roadways in our van, Thor, we both travel with a sense of self-sufficiency knowing our resources are limited and used wisely: fuel, water, garbage, power, storage space. Every nook and cranny of our “vessels” are utilized. Fuel and water have to be carefully monitored as does any garbage transported ashore. No sitting in a couch at night watching TV when you’re running three hours a day on solar power.
We swapped stories of life on the road/sea with Thor and Country Dancer and reminisced of Jodi’s summer visits to California and my summer long stays in Minnesota when we were younger. Caught up on our kids, her grandkids, and the rest of our families. A swell reunion.
As our happy hour topside steered into evening and the Chicago skyline awoke, so did the stories. Boy, does Gary tell some “old salt” tales of life on the water. Seems like the Vikings, as prolific sailors, had a knack for the port and starboard folklore. Some of the stories too salty to publish.
Later on we said our farewells, promised it wouldn’t be another 25 years, and Gary chauffeured us in the dinghy to the dock where our Uber ride was waiting.
“Aye, farewell is for hippies. If you’re gonna leave then you say goodbye.”
Happy reunion, happy hour, happy trails.