Living the Airstream Dream
I just returned home from spending almost three months living out a dream in Washington. Actually, I was living out multiple dreams—the dream of traveling, living in an Airstream, being immersed in the stunning landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. It was everything I imagined… and a little more. But not all of that “more” was sunshine and rainbows.
The thing about pursuing your dreams is, sometimes you realize on the other side, it's not exactly what you thought it would be.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been enchanted by the idea of being a nomad. I always imagined myself traveling, writing, taking pictures, and exploring the world with nothing but the open road ahead of me. This dream has been with me since I was a little girl in the 1970s, when being a free spirit and living life on your own terms was the ultimate aspiration. Vanlife might seem like a trend today, but it’s always been part of a bigger story—one that drew people who craved spontaneity, creativity, and a sense of adventure.
So, when I finally hitched up my Airstream and set out for Washington, I felt like I was stepping into my own nomadic fantasy. Waking up to misty mornings, breathing in the crisp mountain air, and being surrounded by towering evergreens? It was as dreamy as it sounds.
But like any dream, reality has a way of sneaking in. And let me tell you, there’s a lot that Instagram doesn’t show you.
First off, there’s the constant shuffle. Imagine this: you’re ready to cook dinner after a day of hiking, but before you can even slice a vegetable, you’ve got to move ten items just to clear the counter space. Every meal feels like a game of Tetris—finding just the right balance between your chopping board and your sink. And don’t even get me started on laundry! When you're living on the road, suddenly the simple act of washing clothes involves quarters, public machines, and waiting around in a laundromat. Then, there’s the joy of communal showers at campsites. Let’s just say, privacy is a luxury you start to miss after a while.
The Airstream itself? Cozy, yes—but also a constant reminder that space is limited. When I first set up in Washington, I was transported back to my college dorm days. My “home” was now a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one. If you’ve ever shared a tiny dorm with a roommate, you know exactly what I mean.
Yet, there’s something oddly liberating about it, too. In a space that small, everything you own has to serve a purpose. There’s no room for clutter, no extra baggage—literally or figuratively. In a world that’s obsessed with consumption, it was refreshing to realize how little I actually needed to live comfortably. Bonus: no room to shop for things I don’t need!
The experience wasn’t just about simplifying my life, though. It also taught me that dreams evolve. I went to Washington with an idealized version of nomadic life in my mind—full of adventure, nature, and unending inspiration. And yes, there were moments like that. I won’t ever forget the sunsets I saw over Puget Sound or the nights spent gazing up at a blanket of stars, feeling like the world was both impossibly vast and intimately close.
But there were also days when I longed for a hot shower in my own bathroom, or a kitchen where I didn’t have to rearrange my entire life to cook a meal. And that’s okay.
What I realized is that pursuing your dreams isn’t about everything turning out exactly the way you planned. It’s about having the experience, learning from it, and then moving on to new dreams and goals. Living in an Airstream taught me that it’s okay for a dream to be messy, inconvenient, and sometimes a little uncomfortable. Because in the end, it’s the experience that matters. It’s about saying, “I did that,” and then being open to what’s next.
So, would I do it again? In a heartbeat. But now, I have new dreams on the horizon—ones that might involve more space, maybe fewer public showers, but with the same sense of adventure and curiosity that led me here in the first place.