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About Me

Lisa Hugging Tree

I grew up in the country with forty acres as my playground, which is probably why I prefer wide-open spaces. I drink copious amounts of black coffee, top my pancakes with peanut butter, and find chips and guacamole impossible to resist. I stride forward into the unknown with unflinching optimism and often leap without looking. Easily awed by nature, I believe there is magic to be found in everything.

I bought my van in July 2018, and in February 2020, it became my full-time home. I sold my house, all belongings, quit my job, and intentionally stepped away from the comfortable life I’d created.

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” – Rumi

Want to know more? Watch this podcast I recorded with Steve Harper of The Ripple Effect: The Vanventure of a Lifetime

 

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Where I've been

The clouds were exceptional at our last campsite. Yesterday I woke to a brilliant rainbow that stayed around for nearly two hours. More rainbows appeared this morning, as if bidding us farewell. They were all so close it felt surreal and magical. No pots of gold, but I did find a quarter on the ground. 🤷🏼‍♀️💰 I had to post photos of the rainbow, despite the impossibility of the camera capturing just how magnificent it was in person. 🌈
Last weekend we stopped in the Bay Area to spend time with friends and get a much needed break from the twists and turns of Hwy 1. We then headed east for a couple days in Yosemite. This past weekend, we tucked away in a lovely forest filled with golden aspens at the foot of the Sierra mountains. This morning we woke to 20 degrees and a beautiful blanket of snow. Sometimes the beauty of the landscapes fills me with such emotion I have no words to describe it. This morning was one of those moments, looking out across the vast, snowy mountain range, filled with such immense gratitude that I get to witness such grandeur.
Traveling along the California coast has been one delight after the next. We began by passing through the northern Redwood Forest parks, then ventured south along Hwy 101 before spurring off to travel along the Avenue of the Giants through Humboldt Redwoods State Park. That was certainly a wonder to behold, and I recommend it to anyone traveling through the area. We then turned west onto the famous Hwy 1, which has been twisting and turning us along the coastline and pushing us up steep inclines the van struggled to crawled up. We've been spending our nights parked in pullouts along the roads, which means we've been parked right on the ocean. Yesterday I'd just sat down to eat some oatmeal when I saw a whale leap out of the water. I swapped the oatmeal for binoculars and spent the next half hour watching a group of whales flip, flash their tails, and spout water. It was my first whale sighting and will definitely be a memory forever etched onto my heart. Last night we slept near a lighthouse on a road that was isolated enough to provide a peaceful night's sleep. This morning we hiked along the coast where sea lions stared up at me with as much fascination as I had for them. Then the ravens offered this wonderful dance just for me. Needless to say, these have been special moments indeed.
Happy 4th Birthday to this good boy! He's not only a great co-pilot for van adventures, he's also endless comedic gold, serial photo bomber, security system (including bears), professional napper, snow biter, lake/creek/river/ocean swimmer, (not so great) fisher, rock climber, trailblazer, stick chewer, squirrel patroller, fly snapper, moon gazer, raven chaser, heavy sigher, reflection obsessor, vivid, noisy dreamer, and middle of the night eater, just for starters. I couldn't imagine this journey without him. As luck would have it, we passed a dog bakery yesterday, so he got to celebrate with a giant cookie. 🐶🥳
It wouldn't be a proper trip down the Oregon coast without a noisy night parked at a highway pullout. I've grown accustomed to falling asleep to forest silence, so a nightly parade of traffic didn't make for the most restful sleep. Totally worth it to sit on the stoop of the van and watch the sun sink into the ocean, though.  Today it's back into the forest for the weekend, then on to California for another pass through the Redwoods.
Some ocean zen for your day.
I recorded another podcast (link in bio) with my friend Steve Harper of The Ripple Effect: Vanventures with Lisa Bussett - Part Two This time, Steve got fancy and recorded our talk as a video too. So kick back with a snack and listen to all Paco and I have been up to on our journeys through the American West. If you’d prefer the audio-only option, search for “The Ripple Effect” on your favorite podcast app and you can find it there. Enjoy!
My high school summers were spent working in the Ice Cream Shack at Big Splash Waterpark. The pay barely covered the cost of gas for the long commute, but I loved it. I made a lot of friends there, despite being an incredibly shy and insecure introvert. I was so intimidated by the lifeguards, but most were super nice and would spend their breaks in my shack where we'd chat about dramas of teenage life and waterpark patrons.  One year, one of the lifeguards went to Cannon Beach, OR for a family vacation. I hadn't heard of it at the time, but said it sounded wonderful and I hoped to visit it myself one day. A week later he returned with a gift for me. It was a tall blue shot glass with a white Cannon Beach logo on it. There's nothing remarkable about it, yet I was moved by the small, unexpected souvenir. I still have it. Never actually used as a shot glass, it became a staple in my studios as a toothpick holder. It even survived the mega purge that preceeded my life in the van.  I finally made it to Cannon Beach. He was right, it's a quaint and charming place, and of course, the Goonies fan inside of me was thrilled to see Haystack Rock. So, thanks Gabe. I may have forgotten you last name decades ago, but I've never forgotten your kindness. You planted the seed of inspiration for me to travel the Oregon coast, I just took the scenic route to get here.
We've just emerged from a week in the quiet solitude of the forest. Exactly what I needed.  When people ask what I do with my time, my response is, "I sit," which usually garners a look of confusion. Technically, no, I'm not just sitting around 24 hours a day.  Paco and I are almost constantly walking. Not hikes or out to reach a destination. More like mindful meanders that allow me to really get to know the landscape. I move slowly, stopping to inspect a rock, a tree, a snail, a cloud, anything that captures my attention - and everything captures my attention. It's the same way I spent my childhood, letting my imagination run rampant as I wandered through pastures flipping rocks and building forts beneath the trees.   These past few days brought heavy rains. The forecast called it the heaviest rains this region had seen since the spring. We walked through the rain and I got to witness the forest coming to life. Mosses and lichen lifted off trees and rocks in praise of the raindrops that rolled along them. Ferns unfurled and tree limbs hung heavy with moisture. An explosion of oversaturated greens. It was truly a delight to witness.  It's those small, quiet moments that refuel me and overwhelm me with gratitude and inspiration.  "Keep silent, because the world of silence is a vast fullness." - Rumi