“Well, in the spring, when the mountain snow melts, the lake is full and deep. During the summer, like right now, the water level drops.”
“It hardly looks real. It’s like a beautiful postcard. This area is stunning.”
I think to myself, she’s the one who’s stunning.
The natural wonders of the park, with deep valleys, grand meadows, and ancient giant sequoias, keep us busy all afternoon. Because of the park’s popularity, I knew going into this how hard it would be to get a camping reservation. This area is already booked out months in advance, especially during the peak summer season. Luckily, I’m able to find a campsite not too far outside of the park.
I back my camper van into our spot, which includes a fire ring, picnic table, and a food locker. The campground also has bathrooms with drinking water and flushing toilets, something I made sure of. Keri needs to be eased into this lifestyle, not greeted by a compost toilet on our first night.
“How can I help?” she asks.
“See those storage compartments under the van?”
She follows my pointed finger and nods. “Yeah.”
“Go ahead and open those up. You can pull out supplies and a couple of camp chairs and set them up around the fire ring.”
“Are we going to have a campfire tonight?” She’s grinning at me, her excitement contagious.
“Of course. And before you ask, I already loaded the van with provisions, including s’mores ingredients. I remembered they’re your favorite.”
She squeals and catapults her body against mine, peppering my scruffy face with kisses. “I’m so happy right now.”
“Me too.”
Later, we sit side by side in front of the campfire, Keri’s head resting on my shoulder. Her quiet snuffles are adorable, and I know she’s exhausted from the long travel day, hiking, and the time change. We ate cold sandwiches for dinner, roasted marshmallows for s’mores over the shifting orange embers of the fire, and talked about our childhoods. The sound of wood crackling and popping among our chatter was a natural, calming experience.
Being with Keri in my element is even better than I could have ever imagined. She’s up for anything. A hike. Carrying firewood. Walking my dog. Tidying up the van and finding spots for her feminine touches, including a plastic cup filled with dandelions I picked for her near the campground restrooms.
Her hair smells of wood smoke and vanilla, and I have the right mind to gather her into my arms and take her to bed. But I’m not ready to wake her or disrupt my meditative mood. With each pop from the fire, sparks float up into the sky, mixing with the stars overhead. I feel… connected, in a way I haven’t felt in years. The embers pulse like a heartbeat, and I watch the flames fall into coals. I always sleep like a rock after sitting around acampfire, and I know Keri will do the same. It’s almost like the flames are a lullaby for my busy mind.
But tonight, they’re a love song, full of deep affection and longing.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Keri
Adam and I have settled into a simple, unhurried routine. Most mornings, he wakes early to walk and feed Molly, then meditates by the campfire while making our coffee. We move in an easy rhythm, unrushed and without forced conversation. Mornings are peaceful, marked by birdsong, quiet contemplation, and shared smoothies for breakfast.
Evenings are my favorite time, when I’m tired and satisfied from a long day outdoors with the man I love. The shift from activity to stillness feels natural as Adam hangs the fairy lights and restarts our campfire. With the camp set, sometimes we play music and dance under the stars, letting joy settle in. Over simple dinners at our picnic table, and sipping wine in the majestic beauty of Mother Nature, conversation flows easily: snapshots from the day, childhood tales, bursts of goose-honking laughter at his silly jokes. We’ve even tagged places toreturn for pageant-dress photo opportunities, my mind full of ideas and his camera ready for inspiration.
We’ve been on the road for almost two weeks now, traveling from the Sierra Nevadas to Utah Red Rocks to New Mexico, taking advantage of endless off-road exploring. From canyonlands to petrified forests, we continued through the Texas Hill Country, pausing under the big sky to explore rivers, go on forest hikes, and enjoy the Southern charm of the locals. I’ve become quite acclimated to camper van living, and I think I’m getting pretty good at it.
We’ve made it to our current destination in Texas where the rugged peaks of the Guadalupe Mountains greet us. This less-visited area on our map offers diverse desert-to-forest ecosystems and a rich history of Native Americans and frontier settlers. I’m looking forward to a day hike through the rugged landscape with fewer crowds, and we’ve heard the West Texas stargazing is phenomenal.
Traveling with Adam has done wonders for me. My curiosity has elevated, and my artist’s well has been filled. Being on this adventure has opened my mind, humbled me, and expanded my horizons beyond what I can comprehend.
I’ve learned that peace isn’t tied to a place or timeline; it’s a state of mind found within. I don’t need to travel far to find it. It’s always been within me. Even back home, sitting alone on my cozy sofa, gazing out the window and sipping coffee from my fancy machine. Happiness isn’t about distant journeys in planes or camper vans, but about being content in the present moment. And I am truly enjoying these moments with Adam.
Still, I worry about him. He hasn’t spoken about what happened in California, and I’ve given him more than enough time and space. Despite our close quarters and evening chats, he hasn’t opened up. I’ve been patient, but now I want answers.
“You haven’t told me anything about your meeting with the real estate broker. Did the sale go through on your property or not?” I finally ask him.
Adam chokes on a sip of coffee. We’re sitting in our pop-up chairs around a morning campfire, listening to the birdsongs and watching the clouds overhead.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you choke.”
He clears his throat. “I’m fine. It’s fine. You just… caught me off guard, is all.”
