So, it arrived. The big day finally arrived. Ten days ago, from the time I am writing this, our new season in this journey of life started.
June 18, 2018, our 52 week, 48 state adventure began.
That was a busy day. In fact, the 2 months leading up to that day were crazy-busy. It’s amazing how many details go into taking a road trip. A year long road trip. Things you wouldn’t even think about, but since everything still continues while you’re on the road (bills, car emissions, septic pumping, propane fills, school, mail delivery, etc.) – you have to basically think ahead for a year and get everything down on a calendar!
We had to get finances in order. Our mail in order. Chicken coop, run and flock in order. House in order. House sitter moved in. House sitter comfortable with the chickens and the routine for taking care of them. Celebrate Easter. Go through the heartache of my grandfather passing away on April 23rd. Celebrate my birthday. Mother’s Day. Finalize the kids’ 4H projects that had to be turned in over a month early. Finish out the school year and all that entails (endless activities, class parties, field day, etc.). Order and get all next year’s school curriculum mapped out and stored away in the 5th wheel. Get our last appointments in, purge our 2 refrigerators and deep box freezer. Get new tires on the truck. Squeeze in our annual trip to Glenwood Springs for 3 days (a great reason for another test ride, this time taking our pug, Sugar, with us). Say goodbye to our family and friends. And say goodbye to my chickens.
Saying goodbye. This alone wasn’t a one event thing. Emotionally this hit hard for me about 3 months prior to our launch date. The thought of saying goodbye to my family and flock wasn’t going to be easy. I would be going about my day and randomly start crying without any warning. I’m not one of those people who can go months and months without being with those I love, at least without it not affecting me on some emotional level. Sure, technology is awesome and we can talk via video, send text messages and keep up through SM – but it’s not the same as personal time together. Then when my grandfather passed away, all of the emotions went much deeper. I was so comforted in knowing that it happened while I was here and could be with him as he took his last breath, to deliver the eulogy at his funeral, and to pay honor to him in the weeks following his passing. Had he went on to be with Jesus while we were on the road, it would have broken my heart in a way I don’t think I could explain. I was able to see my grandmother a few extra times and offer more hugs and love to her. Oh, how I will miss seeing her too!
In the middle of all this, we had to get the 5th wheel set up as our home on wheels. Most of this couldn’t be done until the night before and the day that we left, because what we used on a daily basis, we would be taking. I wasn’t sure we’d do it, but we managed to pack 4 people for 4 seasons for 1 full year, in a 5th wheel. We didn’t even have to put any clothes in extra storage bins – woohoo! Well, except for the heavy winter gear (boots, ski pants, coats). We decided to take only what would fit in our closets and drawers. My daughter and I became very creative and managed to squeeze more in than we probably should have – but it all still fit!
Then something crazy happened. Seven days before we left, we made the decision to take one of our chickens. Not out of some need to be cool or different, but because it was the only option we had for her safety. She is one of our bantams (a small breed of chicken) and the previous 2-3 months we had seen some changes in her that weren’t normal. She slowly stopped doing chicken things, like dust baths and raking around in the dirt. She no longer would be the first to get food (she’s a fast little thing and would always beat everyone else). She also stopped sticking up for herself. In a flock, pecking order is a real thing and it’s normal for them to peck around on each other. But they always defend themselves, so damage isn’t too common. Oli stopped defending herself, so she was constantly getting pecked on and sometimes to the point of a bloody crown. She started spending most of her time hiding under the coop in a corner, or in a tucked away nesting box. I felt so bad for her. That was no way to live. Even for a chicken. Then we noticed her little legs would shake when she would walk. Almost like she was walking on thorns or needles. She was slower and was doing other strange things. With all of this, you could tell the rest of the flock viewed her as weak, and flocks don’t want to keep weak members around. In nature, this attracts predators. So, had we left her, eventually she would have been harmed, or even killed. By her own flock family. Not out of their meanness, but out of their God-given instinct, so to knowingly leave her in a dangerous spot wouldn’t be okay.
So we did what we had to do. Our holistic physician and owner of 150 chickens gave me a chicken diaper to have her try one out. So the week before we left, we brought Oli up to live in the house. Wearing a diaper. To see how this would even look.
What do you know, it went off without a hitch!
In fact, Oli absolutely loved being in the house with us. She’d follow me around, sleep when she got tired and she’d even retreat to her crate – on her own – when she needed time to nest. I bought an over the shoulder soft pet carrier (like a messenger bag) and she LOVED being carried around in that. She acclimated to her new routine in about 5 minutes.
This was going to be easier than I thought.
So now, in the middle of getting the family ready, I needed to figure out all the details of having a chicken join us on this year long road trip.
Ready. Set. Wait….I’m not ready yet!
Thanks to Amazon Prime, we ordered last minute items, for us and Oli and it came down to the final days. Saturday, June 16th, we had Charley’s mom and step-dad over and spent time with them. Sunday my parents and brother came over and had some quality time with them. The goodbye time of the visits were hard. Especially with my parents. And my brother. It’s not common for my brother and I to become emotional with each other, so that was weird, but the reality was…it was hard to say goodbye to him. So many tears in the matter of 24 hours.
(photo credit: DannyAnghis)
Sunday, June 17th, it was our last night in the house. For a year. Yes, I do countdowns like this all the time. I did it for the month leading up to us leaving.
“Kids, this will be the last Friday we’re in our house….The last time we go to this store….The last time we get our favorite cookies at the bakery…”
Charley was thinking, “Let’s just go!” He’s not as sentimental as I am. Or as attached to people and places as I found out I was during this preparation process. I guess opposites do attract.
So, Monday, June 18th came and came fast. We woke up wanting to leave by 2:00pm or 3:00pm, since we were waiting for FedEx to show up with our bike rack. That alone bought me a little more time.
But, they were late. Very late. FedEx didn’t show up until around 5:45pm that night – but I won’t complain, because we needed all that time to get every last detail accomplished. Outside of a couple small things – we did it!
It was getting closer to us needing to get on the road for our 3 hour drive to Cheyenne and I was dreading saying my last goodbyes to my flock.
Oh, my flock. I’ve been a chicken mama for just under 2 years now and I have enjoyed every minute. It’s a job and a job I love and find fulfillment in. We had worked so hard since March to expand their run and make some enhancements to their living quarters so their transition would be as smooth as possible, for them and myself. We all went down to say goodbye and the tears came before I even got to them. Seeing them run up to the fence when they saw me coming and greeting them with my infamous “Chickens, my chickens, I love my chickens!” The talking and chattering I get from them puts a smile on my face and they were talking away. I did a final walk through and walk around to make sure everything was in order for them. Then I went into the run to give them some snacks and to sit with them and say goodbye.
Oh, my heart.
The last time for an entire year that I would be with them. Holding them, having them walk around me, jump on my lap, investigate my shoes or the containers I might have. The last time for a year that I would have the conversations with them that only I could have.
I was heartbroken, and I am not ashamed to admit it. I am one of “those” people and have been my entire life. I didn’t want them to think I had abandoned them. Many of them I took in when others no longer wanted them or could no longer take care of them. I’ve brought them back to a healthy place, given them a home and so much love. I’d let them out everyday to roam around the property and I’d sit with them and just watch them being chickens and doing everything they loved doing. Would they notice that I wasn’t there, that it will be someone new? Will they miss their free ranging afternoons? Would they take this hard? Would they miss me?
I did everything in my power to make sure the change was easy, because change can quickly and easily harm a chicken’s health. They stop laying, stop eating and can get physically sick. I didn’t want that to happen. I just hoped they knew that I loved them and was not leaving them. I had an 8 camera system set up so I can view them from my laptop or smart device anywhere we might be. In the coop, in the run, under the coop, in their shaded area – I could watch them going about their day. I had a microphone set up in the run so I can hear them. Crowing. Chattering. Being chickens. This makes my heart so happy listening to them. I installed another 360 degree camera on the ceiling of the coop so I could easily count them at night and this one has a microphone and a speaker – so not only can I hear them, but I can talk to them.
I truly do love this!
We have fans for the summer. Heaters for the winter. We also installed an automatic deer feeder in the main run that goes off 3 times a day for 3 seconds and shoots out chicken scratch. I’d always give them some in the morning and in the afternoon – so I wanted them to still have this routine, but without anyone there doing it. This works awesome! I also installed a planter (an old iron bath tub) and started growing grass and greens in it and covered it with rabbit wire. This way they could eat the greens that popped through the wire, but they couldn’t dig up the soil or the seeds. Instant salad bar!
All of these small things that would make their transition not be so different than their normal routine. Three and a half months of working. For them.
But now it was time to go. How can I do this? My heart was hurting.
So, I said my final goodbyes. Held a few more chickens and told them, from my heart, that I loved them, I would talk to them and listen to them and that I would be home soon! I left the run, locked up and turned around to see them all gathered around the gate and fence where I was standing. As I walked away, tears clouded my eyes and fell off my face with great speed, then I started walking up the hill. The one I walked up several times everyday for two years, but always knew I’d be back down soon. As silly as it may sound, it hurt so bad, it was hard to breathe. As I reached the top of the hill, I turned around and said one last time, the greeting I painted on a sign that hangs above their run, “Chickens, my chickens, I love my chickens.”
The girls chattered back. The alpha rooster crowed. I cried and continued towards the 5th wheel. Kari, you can do this.
We took come pics of the family, heavy heart and all, hopped in the truck and made our way to Cheyenne. Tears streaming down my face and my kids’ faces for a few more miles. I flipped open my phone, opened the app for the chicken cam and watched my flock as they went about their evening business. I already missed them greatly.
I knew I could it. It wasn’t easy. It was crazy-hard and somewhat heartbreaking, but I did it. This was really happening and there was nothing I could change about that.
Ready. Set….Wait, I’m still not ready yet….but let’s do this.
It’s the only way sometimes. Step out of the boat. Leave your comfort zone. Trust that everything will be taken care of as you have arranged it to be. And just go.
At the time of writing this, it’s been a little over a week since we’ve left and in the middle of the newness, the fun, the relaxing environment, I still find my heart missing those feathered babies of mine. I don’t think this will change over the next year. This is okay and I won’t try to make myself not miss them.
So, here we go! A year on the road. So much is ahead of us and I’m truly excited for what’s in store for the Newsom crew! Our first week is in the books.
Ready. Set. Here we go!