Beautiful People
A Thanksgiving-week journey filled with optimism, generosity, and the strangers and friends who helped get Georgia moving again
The world is full of amazing and truly beautiful people. But before we get started, I want to remind everyone — especially those who are new here — that for our safety, this blog is always a few weeks behind real time. We never share our exact location until we’ve safely moved on.
This isn’t meant to shut anyone out. It’s a boundary we’ve had to put in place because in the past we’ve had issues with being stalked and harassed. So please don’t take it personally or feel like you’re being kept at a distance. You’re not. We love this community deeply, and we promise to always tell the real stories of vanlife — not just the Instagram highlight reel.
With that said, this update covers everything that happened leading up Thanksgiving - and yes… Georgia is moving again.
Putting that new AAA membership to use. Thanks Billy!
Getting Towed
After a few more days crawling around Kearny Mesa at 5 mph, our AAA waiting period was over and got a tow to the AutoNation Ram Service Center in Oceanside. The driver arrived early, but I could tell immediately that he wasn’t doing well. His movements were stiff, strained — and as he got down on the ground to hook up the van, the pain on his face told the whole story.
Still, he powered through. Within minutes we were strapped down and heading north on the 805, then the 5.
As we drove, he asked about our life on the road. I told him about our travels, our work, the places we’ve been, and the joy of choosing experiences over things. His eyes lit up. He and his partner had been dreaming about a nomadic lifestyle too — she already works remotely, and they’ve been itching for a change.
I shared what I’ve learned (and what I wish I had known) about easing into vanlife: taking short trips first, testing the waters before diving in headfirst — ask me how I learned that lesson.
But the whole time, I could see he was hurting. Anyone who has had kidney stones knows the signs, and he had them all. Halfway through the ride, I finally asked him about it. He opened up, saying he was in “the worst pain imaginable.” I told him I’ve been there too and shared a few tips that have helped me. He admitted he almost didn’t take the call but needed the work.
By the time we arrived at the service center, something shifted. He said the distraction of conversation had helped ease the mindset of pain, and that our talk meant a lot to him. Before he left, I encouraged him to chase that dream with his partner — not to wait for the “right time,” because that’s a feeling not a day on the calendar.
I never caught his name, but my friend — wherever you are — I hope your kidney pain eased and that you and your lady find your way to the life you want.
AutoNation
Before anything else, I want to give sincere thanks to Danny and the entire AutoNation team. They went above and beyond to get Ruby and me back on the road, and their kindness during a stressful time meant everything.
Once the van was unloaded, they immediately began diagnosing the limp-mode issue. Within a short time, they identified a failed particulate matter sensor on the exhaust and reductant (DEF) temperature sensor. Parts were ordered with overnight shipping. Danny told me I could stay parked outside the shop that night, but once they pulled the van inside the next day, I couldn’t remain in it.
The initial estimate was around $2,100.
About then, two friends — one who gifted the AAA membership, and another long-time supporter — reached out wanting updates. Out of respect for their privacy, we’ll call them Billy and Sally. And then something incredible happened: both Billy and Sally independently offered help. Enough help to make the emissions repair possible.
I cried myself to sleep that night — this time with relief.
The next morning, Danny brought the van in immediately. Ruby and I packed what we needed and took an Uber to a nearby hotel. We had barely settled in when Danny called again: the PCM (Powertrain Control Module) had also failed and storing unrecoverable codes — likely damage from earlier troubleshooting or possibly even from the original engine failure last December.
The new repair total crept past $3,200.
One night in a the hotel was not bad — hot showers, warm food, and for the first time in a long time, a little hope.
By Thanksgiving Eve, we were back at the shop. Danny’s team had already started working, and before long they were giving high-fives and celebrating — Georgia was driving again. I could hardly believe it.
Then Billy told me he’d front the repair cost. And Sally offered an advance for future Rogue Branding work.
I was stunned. In a matter of hours, we went from limping around at 5 mph… to planning our trip home.
Northbound
As the crew wrapped up the repairs, I debated whether to stay nearby for a bit or start heading north immediately. But I needed power first — our batteries were completely drained. With the EV adapter, I drove to a charger at the I-5 rideshare lot. Three hours later, we were back in business.
With Billy’s encouragement, I stocked up at Walmart, took a deep breath, and pointed Georgia north.
We drove past Camp Pendleton, Anaheim, and Los Angeles without issue. Traffic was thick near Sylmar, then opened slightly past the 14. The climb up the Grapevine was slow and heavy with holiday traffic and fog.
We reached Fort Tejon just after 9 p.m. Ruby and I stretched our legs in the cold — a sharp reminder of the Oregon winter waiting for us.
But as we got back on the road, a new sound appeared: a whining noise under the hood, like an old Ford power steering pump. I pulled off to check fluids — all were fine except the power steering, which uses a special mineral oil. A quick search led us to an O’Reilly’s near Bakersfield that claimed to be open on Thanksgiving. I began heading that way.
That’s when everything shifted again. It wasn’t the power steering.
The van began mis-shifting. Slipping. Slamming back into gear. My heart sank.
We made it to the O’Reilly’s lot, but I knew another chapter had started. Exhausted and anxious, Ruby and I crawled into bed. My mind raced through every mile of the day, wondering if I did something wrong… if I failed us.
Thankful
But then, in that quiet space, my thoughts softened.
I thought about every person who helped us get this far.
Every act of kindness.
Every stranger who became part of our journey.
We are endlessly thankful — for the tow truck driver pushing through immense pain, for Danny and the AutoNation team, and for Billy and Sally, whose generosity quite literally moved us forward.
This world is full of beautiful people, not by looks, but by heart. Without the heart of some amazing people this week, we’d still be stuck in Kearny Mesa at 5 mph. Albeit maybe a little warmer.
For now, sleep was the only gift I could give myself. The van would have to wait until Thanksgiving morning.
This is a first, parked at a O’Rileys for the night. Hopefully they are open tomorrow and have what I need.
Ruby and I are grateful for you — truly. Every person who reads, follows, and supports this journey helps keep us moving, even on the days when the road feels heavy. Thank you for being here, for believing in us, and for giving this adventure meaning.
If you’d like to support our travels directly, consider becoming a member. Memberships help keep us on the road, fed, groomed, and steady through the unexpected. If membership isn’t your thing, you can also support us through Venmo or by shopping through our affiliate links — everyday purchases that give us a small commission at no extra cost to you.
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