Morning light, a warm cup, and the quiet strength it takes to keep going—even when the road makes you slow down. There’s a special kind of quiet that comes when your body says no and there’s no one else around to argue with it. No audience. No backup plan that involves another human. Just you, your breath, and the slow realization that the road doesn’t care how you feel. I’ve been sick on the road more than once. Not dramatic, not hospital-level—but enough to make every small

The road opens. There is a moment when preparation gives way to motion. The door is closed. The last look is taken. The road stretches forward, quiet and unknown. This is not rushing away from something. It’s moving toward  what’s next. By the time you reach this point, you’re no longer questioning your readiness. Your systems are known. Your essentials are chosen. Your confidence isn’t loud — it’s steady. Travel like this isn’t about escape. It’s about trust. Trust in your p