Vanlife 2021 Part 1 - Nebraska

It was exactly a year ago that I embarked on my #vanlife2021 excursion and I still have not blogged about it until now (and if you've read any of my posts you see the pattern).  It took a month to even begin writing about it on paper, and then a month later I actually started this post...  fast forward to May 2022 and still nothing has been shared.  I think part of my internal struggle is that my trip felt normal, and less adventurous than I thought it would, and that maybe there was nothing to write about.  Yet isn’t that my hope- to document my solo travels and share how it indeed is doable?  So let's start from the beginning, shall we?

In my quest for hitting all 50 states before turning 50, I entered 2021 with three states left: Nebraska, North Dakota and Alaska.  While COVID was at its horrific peak within a peak within a peak, I began planning my escape.  Vaccines were rolling out, and knowing campgrounds were open last year and National Parks were open again, I could plan a trip that wouldn't get canceled.   I could find parks in the Nebraska and North Dakota and camp and explore there.

But wait  - I don't camp.  Despite loving the outdoors, I am not a camper.  It sounded dreadful to plan on pitching tents across the middle part of the country.  Yet one thing I did take from my Forgotten Memorable Trip (FMT) of 2019 is that staying in hotels outside of the parks impedes on quality time, especially at sunrise.  I wanted to be a little more connected to the outdoors, but not worry about a bear tearing apart my poorly assembled tent while I tried to sleep in it.

Solution: a campervan.

I had been daydreaming of traveling in a campervan for some time now, and now it all came together.  Once this decision was made, the fun began.  I pulled out a map and penciled my route: Fly into Denver where I had a plethora of van rental companies to choose from, then drive over to Nebraska (east coasters like me don’t realize how close Denver is to Nebraska) and start the journey there.

I had my agenda set and everything reserved by late January, so now I had to wait.  As the date drew closer, restrictions loosened up - and with me fully vaccinated since April - I felt really good about what was to come.  I headed out the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, and was very grateful to not have any WTF moments on my flight over there… it waited until I was sitting behind the wheel of the van.  I had to give myself a little pep talk to get the vehicle out of the park by reminding myself how every journey begins with a single step. The adventure was ready to reveal itself, I just needed to hit the accelerator.

I pull out of the parking lot, make the initial Target run for food and supplies, and head out on the highway.  It was about 4 1/2 hours to Fort Robinson State Park in the teeny town of Crawford, Nebraska, population 1100 (or less, depending on your wiki source).   The park was quite nice, and I got some opportunities to grab a few sunset shots before settling into the campsite.

Truth be told, I didn’t (and still don’t) always know which “kind” of campsite I should have reserved for a van.  “Tent only” could potentially mean no vehicle (right?), so I grabbed a 20’ RV spot for my 19’ van.  Yet when I pulled into the designated area, I was the only van there.  With all these seasoned campers decked out with all of their amenities - it felt like I was crashing a Georgia tailgate party.  I was lucky to not hit the kids circling the loop on their bicycles, who seemed to know much more about navigating the campground than I did.  I slowly backed into my slot (okay… with some assistance from nearby campers - I guess my camping virginity was that obvious) and nestled in to my first of many nights in the van.

The first night was the worst night, relatively speaking.  Though I got comfortable and fell asleep pretty easily, I had weird and vivid dreams about work (guess it takes a while to shut it off).  I also knew the bathrooms were like 1/2 mile away (those RVs all have their own bathrooms I guess), and where I wake up to pee most nights, the notion of not being able to makes me need to.  On top of it all, there was a huge rainstorm - which in some ways was soothing in my secure little van shelter - but created anxiety for my bladder.  Yet I made it through the night without anything getting wet, and left the campground before sunrise for Toadstool Geological Park.

It took getting to Crawford, Nebraska before realizing just how much in the middle of nowhere I was. And Toadstool was 12-15 miles down a dirt road from here.  Slow and steady down the path eventually led to the destination, which can only be described as otherworldly ecocosm - and I’m not even sure if ecocosm is a word (but it should be): Obscure sandstone formations jutting out of the plains, with wildflowers growing in the barren ground.  It was fun climbing and hiking around the small park, which could only be compared to exploring on Mars.  Overall, it’s not something I’d recommend to center a family vacation around, but if you are looking to check off something to see in Nebraska on your bucket list of all 50 states, it’s worth a few hours of your time.   

Given that I got there so early, I was ready to head to the Dakotas by 9AM, but not without one more memorable experience in Nebraska.  As I leave the park I see that I don’t have to backtrack, and by continuing on this dirt road another 19 miles or so through the Grasslands, and I get to the South Dakota state line.  Awesome.  It was a little bumpy on the way in, and there were a handful of washouts from the night before, but nothing the van and I couldn’t handle.

I head out into the grassland - which is just that - grass and your occasional tree or a pronghorn prancing around.  I’d stop and take some pictures along the way, and took my time as the road commanded.  About mid-way through, still not seeing another car this whole time, the roads became much more muddy.   I have no real sense how hard it can be to drive in mud; any time I have been on a muddy road it has been with the purpose of swerving around and with a four-wheel drive vehicle... and I wasn't the driver.   There were a few times I had to just let Jesus take the wheel and hope that I didn’t end up in the ditch.  My saving grace (if needed) was a truck coming from behind about a 1/2 mile away- I was confident that if I got stuck they’d help me out, though luckily it wasn't needed.  I pushed up that one last uphill to the paved road that straddled the border, and exhaled a huge sigh of relief upon leaving my 48th state.

On the (real) road again, through the Badlands and on to North Dakota I go.

Stay tuned…