Surpise! (& Other Life Lessons From the Road…)
Life has a way of smacking you in the face when you least expect it.
On the road, it’s a dead car battery when you’re miles from anywhere, an unexpected hail storm when you’re trying to cook dinner, or a “closed for the season” sign at the trailhead you drove all night to reach.
But my first real lesson in surprises? That came long before the nomad life—back when I was a 5-year-old kid, walking into what I thought would be a normal day at the zoo.
When I turned 5, my parents threw me (and my twin sister) a surprise birthday party at the zoo.
I’ve always thought it was an interesting choice for two parents whose child had just been diagnosed with autism, but I’ll reserve judgment on that for another time. They meant well, and this isn’t about that.
“We have a VERY special surprise for you at the zoo,” my dad exclaimed.
As our family’s old Volvo rolled into a parking spot in front of a vaguely jungle-themed—but still unmistakably sterile—administrative building, my sister and I lunged from our seats and raced toward a pair of glass doors with palm frond–shaped handles. A piece of computer paper taped to the door read “Birthday Party Only” in Comic Sans font. For us, it was a beacon. For anyone else, a warning.
I slowly reached for the handle. Behind it, I could hear hushed voices. Familiar ones. “Are my classmates also at the zoo today?” I wondered.
The door creaked open like a siren, the lights flashed on, and—
“Surprise!”
Suddenly, my legs tingled. My vision blurred. My lungs kicked into overdrive, pumping like they had a mind of their own. This was the first time I felt what I now know was a panic attack.
To anyone watching, I probably just looked like a shy 5-year-old, cheeks flushed from excitement. But inside, I was spiraling. Even then, I knew I was supposed to smile, supposed to be grateful, supposed to enjoy it. My sister was having the time of her life. Who was I to ruin the moment? Why didn’t I want this? What was wrong with me?
Fast forward to now—I’m 30, and I finally have the peace and solitude I craved. I live in my SUV with my dog, Balto. After years of doing what everyone else wanted, I finally get to move at my own pace, on my own terms.
But nomad life taught me a lesson I resisted for decades: life never slows down. Surprises—good, bad, or somewhere in between—are inevitable.
From closed campgrounds to busted radiator fans and the occasional existential spiral, surprises have become the most consistent part of my life on the road. Well, besides Balto.
For most of my life, I clung to order and routine like oxygen. Predictability was my religion.
Now? I wake up somewhere new almost every day. My clothes are dusty and worn. I eat whatever’s least questionable from my slowly dying car fridge. This chapter of life lives somewhere between “epic adventure” and “total chaos.” I willingly traded a steady paycheck, a lease, and a life that looked good on paper for one that feels real in my bones.
Is it flashy? Glamorous? Comfortable? No. But I feel more at home in my own skin than ever before. And while I don’t always handle surprises gracefully, I face them head-on—making that 5-year-old version of me proud.
Here’s what’s helped me handle the surprises:
Pause before reacting. Whether it’s a flat tire or a closed trail, take a breath or two (or ten) before deciding your next move.
Always have a “plan B kit.” This could be extra food, backup camp spots, or a spare power bank. Surprises are easier when you have a safety net.
**pro tip: when navigating to a campsite, download offline maps and copy some coordinates of different options in the area. This will save you the headache of “well I can’t stay here but I don’t know where else to go and I don’t have cell service.”
Reframe it. The challenges make for an interesting plot, right? Instead of “this ruined my day,” try “this gave me a new story to tell.”
Lean on your community. Fellow travelers, friends, and strangers have been my lifeline in unexpected situations. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Accept the mess. Not every surprise has a silver lining right away. That’s OK. Sometimes the win is simply getting through it.
As a former “finance bro,” I often think about the “ROI” of this lifestyle. My answer?
Infinite.
Wherever I go, there I am, more confident and capable than ever before... And that’s pretty damn cool.
Thinking of Nomad-Life but unsure where to start? I am a firm believer that adventure is for EVERYONE, not just for tech bros with $500k sprinter vans. I’m happy to be a soundboard, provide guidance, and help you build out whatever you’ve got… from Prius to Prado and anything in between. click ‘Menu’ —> then ‘Book a Consultation’. First meeting is always free (:
Stay scrappy, friends. See you out there.