Since picking up the HAVN in February 2026 we’ve moved pretty quickly. We’ve always needed to get somewhere by a certain date and we’ve covered a lot of ground. On one hand, that’s exciting and I appreciate all the people with whom we’ve reconnected as well as the variety of places we’ve camped. On the other, overall it has felt too hurried…not sustainable in the longer term.
We had originally planned to head west after visiting our kids in Wisconsin, making our way to Glacier National Park. But the national park would certainly need a reservation and we’d be back into the mode of “getting somewhere by a deadline,” even if we could set our own pace somewhat. We have both been craving more of a meandering, spontaneous period of travel.
As a result, we have decided (at least for now) to stay in the northern Midwest this summer. To explore the North Shore, Upper Peninsula, Boundary Waters. Maybe even getting into Canada or seeing Isle Royale. And to take longer at each stop than we’ve done thus far in 2026.
Soon as we made the decision, it felt right.
A relief, as well as an itinerary I look forward to experiencing.
One thing that’s driving this change for me is that I still often struggle with the uncertainty of my liver disease’s progression.
Theoretically, I could be very sick (even at death’s door) by the end of this year or I could remain asymptomatic for a decade or more. For a “planner” like me who has spent her life looking to the future and working to optimize outcomes, it feels impossibly hard that there’s very little I can do. Despite that I take many actions via diet, exercise, and ongoing surveillance…medical research hasn’t found anything that’s been proven to change the disease course.
Progression timelines are highly variable among individuals and not neatly aligned with current symptoms, bloodwork, or imaging.
You can get very sick, very quickly. (Or not…)
So, I struggle.
It feels like every few weeks I have at least a day or two where the bleak “future movies” that play in my head are overwhelming. It’s hard for me. It’s hard for my husband, I’m working on it. I’ve started with a new therapist and thus far, it has a better experience than I had before.
Time for quiet pursuits
I’m hoping this new, slower travel approach will provide more time for art, exercise, and other hobbies. When I regularly journal and meditate, my emotions seem to be more stable.
Regarding art specifically…
During our week in Madison, I had a lovely conversation with a friend who is a gifted pottery artist. We talked about developing an artistic voice, sticking with a regular practice, and how approaches evolve over time.
Within the past 6 weeks or so, I stumbled upon a watercolor artist whose pieces make me say “THIS is what I was trying to accomplish!” It’s been very exciting to review his work and draw inspiration.
Certainly I don’t want to copy him, but using his work as a guide, examining how his elements come together, and making a few small sketches of my own has been very fun.
I’m excited to explore where the new ideas lead me, but our tight travel timelines with lots of social visits haven’t provided as much opportunity for art as I’d like.
So that’s part of the slow-down too. When I’m overwhelmed emotionally, I crave quiet and simplicity. We’re going to try designating at least one day per camping stop as a “studio day,” in the hopes that it’ll not only allow me that much-needed artistic focus, but also help even out some of the emotional swings.
When I’m making artwork, I get lost in it. I don’t think about the future. And I need more practice with that mindset.
