I woke up this morning and checked the weather. This is just self-torture because it changes nothing and only confirms what I already knew: It's damn cold.
An arctic front descended on large parts of the country five days ago, but to put things in perspective: Wednesday afternoon I was trying to sled down the sandhills of Monahans, Texas. It was almost 80 degrees in the afternoon, and still around 65 when I went to sleep.
But when I woke up the wind chill was 13 degrees and one side of the van – the side facing 50-60 mile per hour gusts off the dunes – was coated in ice.
So what's this mean?
A propane heater keeps the van warm at night, but cold weather exposes just how difficult staying in a van can be. Back in D.C., weather like this is simply license to order pizza and hang out on the couch watching movies. Those are great days. But traveling in a van, it robs you of comfort. Gone is a place to really Be and Rest.
Not having a fixed home is invigorating and exciting and fascinating. Also exhausting, draining. And cold.
