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+For a long time I had the idea that I would write a book about this trip and call it The End of the Road. 
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+It was a vague idea, I didn't take it to seriously, but it seems to me we are, culturally at a kind of end of the road as a place of adventure. I has the idea that if you start with the road when it was a trail (Journals of Lewis and Clark), to when it was dirt road (Laura Ingalls Wilder all the way through to the Air Conditioned Nightmare), to when the highways appeared highway (London, Kerouac), to avoiding the highway, back to the two lane (Blue Highways, et al), and then finally I could close it out with a tale of life on the road being so easy you can bring your wife and kids. The end of the road.
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+I never wrote the book. I never will. I realized I am too American to write such a book. The kind of sweeping generalizations I've sketched out sound good if you don't bother to think about them at all. When you scratch the surface though, you start to think, wait a minute, this doesn't sound right to me. This is does no square with my experience.
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+I was watching an old episode of Anthony Bourdain's television show the other day in which he goes the high desert of California to hang out with the musician Josh Homme. In it Homme says something I thought was perhaps the most road-worthy thing I've heard: "Here we are at the end of the road... which, it turns out, isn't a bad place, it's just where they stopped building road."
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+This prosaic statement feels apropos for our own end of the road moment. A few weeks ago we packed the bus away and have no plans to travel in it again. We bought and have been building out a school bus, which will replace the Travco for us. The bus finally got too small, it was time for something else and we all felt it.
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+The end of the road for the Travco isn't a bad place, it's just where we stopped living in it. (No, I don't know what we're going to do with it, most likely we'll sell it. I have no time frame for that, but if you're interested, email me.)
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+We left the bus with hardly anything. The clothes we needed for the winter. Cast iron skillets. Kitchen knives. Pillows. Camera. Notebooks. It was kind of a larger scale version of that thing they tell you to do to see if you should get rid of your stuff: put it in a box and seal it up and if you haven't opened it in six months you don't need it. We left almost everything in the bus and as we've needed it, we've gone to get it, but honestly we haven't needed much.
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+We had originally planned to leave here this fall in the school bus, which I have been working to build out as a comfortable home since we bought it back in April. Unfortunately Lyme disease derailed that plan a little, which is part of the reason we rented the cabin (the other being that we wanted to experience a Wisconsin winter).
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+We settled into the cabin pretty easily. The kids took the upstairs loft area for themselves, there's a big open area below and then a bedroom and bathroom down the hall. In that sense it's very similar to the bus, mostly one big open space.
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+These cabins are quite popular in the summer, but relatively few people come around in the fall. The first weekend we moved in there were some people in the other cabins around us, but that traffic tapered off quickly and we pretty much have the place to ourselves. We have the same lake access and slightly better views of Long island and the tip of Madeline Island rather than Ashland.
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+It's very quiet here. I can hear the road sometimes when I'm around the cabin, but down by the lake there's nothing but the lapping of water on the shore. The dog and I go down to lake shore and watch the sunrise in the mornings. Although sunrise is quickly receding to later and later in the morning. Soon we will be walking to the lake shore in the dark if we keep getting up at 6AM.