Another House on Wheels~

“Don’t you think it’s important? I am going to be living in this thing…” 

The Bus With No Name parked at Malcolm H. (Mac) Register Mini park and Pier in Oak Island NC. This spot is super sweet at sunset and has a bathroom, super short and cute nature walk, two pier accesses and some picnic tables.

I declared to my beloved on a phone call. Overwhelmed was a light way to describe the feelings that boiled in my being as I discovered sopping wet articles of clothing on the floor of the 1998 Ford Shuttle Bus I was nesting into to call a home. As I expressed my sadness and concerns of ripping the whole interior of the bus out to start over he responded with a tone of question, “oh yeah you’re going to live in it huh?” But in reality we both knew I wasn’t going to spend days on in in the 200 some square feet of a house on wheels.  An unconventional lifestyle, something I’ve always dreamt of. To live in would be silly. To live out of, more full of adventure and possibility.  However, the water dripping in was a mess. The rotten wood. The wet moldy reality of this shell I had poured my time into and moved my things into was crumbling in my mind. 

Thank god for caulk. 

At least for now.

I have been living outof the bus I’ve yet to name for give or take two weeks. I spent a couple nights in the house of my second family and at my mothers. My mom watched me go through my collection of clothes, acessories, things… in three days. I got rid of stuff, put stuff where it lives… I cried a lot. I broke down multiple times with tears of anger, confusion. My best friend heard me say to the bus, “what is that thing? Does that belong to me?” I tossed and turned internally with the reality of this new life. 

Then I packed all my too-many-things up, along with my sweet, loving animals and headed to Oak Island NC to meet my beloved. I’m twenty-six years old and have only experienced “beach life” in doses of family vacations and a senior beach week when I wasn’t even a senior. I will say on all occasions I hands down suck at not getting sunburnt. Up until recently in my life I have literally shed tears from frustration because of the sand penetrating all the crevices of my body. I have thought I was allergic to shrimp for at least three years now and often times gag at the smell of seafood- though I eat fish myself. I say all of this to say that when Z proposed the opportunity to tag along in his adventures and the first stop was the beach I eagerly wanted to take that on.


It’s cliche to say you never know until you try… but I could see myself sun-kissed with browning skin, freckles and a mess of salty curls. My days full of gym, tan, laundry… literally. Salty kisses. Sandy feet. Exhausted from the heat but full of gratitude… the sea as the cure.

I wanted to come to the beach to take my “sabbatical.” Because while I’m a young bean to this world (one may say non-deserving of the word sabbatical, ha!) after my dad died the beach felt more like home than the mountains. The way peace is found when all that’s important is sitting in a chair and listening. Or reading. Or people watching. 

It hasn’t even been five days of being a bus lifer in a new city where I don’t know the roads, the locals favorite hang outs, or what “normal” is. I use Z’s gym membership to workout, shower, and use the bathroom. And when I haven’t done that, Walmart, grocery stores, and gas stations have been my toilets. Gas is expensive, and also apparently not really easily found these days. Everything takes a little more time to get going, because you can’t just crank up the house and start rolling with it. Curtains need to come down, mis en place, animal check. We’ve cooked in the bus a couple times now, and breakfast with a view hits different when the view is the North Carolina coast line on a morning that is clear and quiet. Dishes haven’t been done with running water yet, although it’s an option. Bus life requires small brooms and paper towels and disinfecting wipes. I really feel like a she-wee is a necessity too (if and when I get one I will let you know how that goes). Most times the fridge likes to throw something out at you after we’ve done a little moving around. And I have this one pocket in my shelf system that often empties itself durning a ride. My dog, Suzie (mostly Sue, Suzie Q, Peanut Butter Swirl, or Baby Cow) cannot get used to the movements of the house moving… she walks and pants and wants to be right under my feet while I drive. The cat, Chad, lives the best cat life. Although he dislikes his harness and doesn’t seem to want to leave inside life, he enjoys looking out any window and a good cuddle session. He also always wakes up hungry. 

All of this is just living life out of a small container that leaves me rent free.

I am not tied to one place.

I am not committed to some contractual agreement. 

I am mobile. 

With the things I need.

I like the way I can wake up and not remember right away where I am… because when I go to peel back the press-in cover on the back window or the curtains hiding the cock-pit I am reminded that this life is full of adventurous opportunities.

Oh to wake up and see a new skyline.

To  embrace the morning in an unfamiliar place, 

ready to share the love and light that is available in every corner of this dimension. 

Oh to do that alongside a beautiful man who enjoys the same. 

Thanks for witnessing the beginning of this life. 

I am excited to continue sharing with you all of the simply divine moments.

Published by Scottie Hill

I'm Scottie. I'm a twenty-something year old bean adventuring through this earth side life embracing every divine moment. I'm excited to have the opportunity to share this experience with you, and I am full of gratitude you are here.

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