That yellow line is 100% not, in no way, not even close to a road.

How many times must I drive down a road that’s not a road?

Yesterday’s road was most definitely not a road. Yet Google Maps gave me no other option to arrive at the Baja beach bar where my friends were sipping margaritas and awaiting the arrival of me and my 23-foot RV.

So, when the pavement ended from the road that connected to the highway, I drove my beast of a rig over a dune that led to something that was most definitely not a road.

I had been on dirt roads before. But this was no road.

Instantly, there…

Sheltering on the move: Me in front of my RV in August in Mesa Verde National Park in southwestern Colorado

This is life as a nomad in the time of coronavirus.

Today, my cell phone buzzed about the new shelter-at-home order just as I was stepping out of the shower at my friends’ house in the mountains near Yosemite.

I listen to the news, so I knew there would be a mandate by the state of California to combat the spread of COVID-19 announced today. I was happy to comply. I had enough toilet paper and food. I always do.

I’ve actually been abiding religiously to shelter-at-home orders since March 1, 2020. That’s the day I bought my RV. …

Listening to others and considering their point of view, self-education, stop blaming others, stop staring at screens and finding common ground through kindness can help end this American OMG moment.

The problems are piling up in America, and it’s a big pile. We, as a nation, are in desperate need of solutions.

This late-summer morning, orange smoke from wildfires eclipsing much of the nation west of the Rockies hung hazily in the air. Tropical storms lined up like balls down a lane of a bowling alley. The New York Times reported another 1,281 deaths today, of more than 200,000 already dead due to the coronavirus in America. Recent race riots have divided communities, unveiling new depths of hatred.

Women have stalled out at earning 81.6 cents on the male dollar…

NPS, you make me so happy! Thank you for being you!

Dear National Parks Service, I love you.

You’re so nice to me. You’re so special. Everything about you is special.

I’ve visited many national parks during the last six months that I’ve been living in an RV and traveling the United States. I’ve loved every national park, national monument and national forest I’ve seen. I can’t wait to learn more about you, NPS.

I’ve been sledding down the dunes of White Sands in New Mexico. I hiked around the Sunset Crater and then watched the sun dip below the horizon from ancient ruins of the Wupatki National Monument in Arizona…

Now’s the time to look in the mirror and say, “Everything is going to be alright.”

I live alone. I live in a 23-foot recreational vehicle with no home base, other than my friend’s place, which I picked as a mailing address solely because she let me and because she lives on Independence Road. I travel alone. I spend a lot of time alone. I enjoy playing my ukulele alone. I like going to the beach and swimming in the ocean alone. I am sitting here, writing alone. I’m happy.

When I was a child, I was pretty happy, too…

One person at the table guessed I was 26. Another was confident I was 30. I’m 42.

It wasn’t the first time there were misconceptions about my age. It’s not that I have a babyface. But I do consider myself eternally youthful and beyond numbers — and you can too.

Without a clear-cut definition of adulthood, a concept in constant flux, it’s not easy to explain how I walk the tightrope between youthfulness and maturity. My face is forever in that glorious stage of having both wrinkles and pimples, and I don’t use any creams besides sunscreen to help. …

The end game isn’t necessarily to get a kind, loving boyfriend.

Tinder doesn’t have to be about finding someone to put a ring on your finger. For many, of course, this is the reason for trying this popular, online dating app. I once found a boyfriend on Tinder, and he deleted the app even before I did. He called me the love of his life. Unfortunately, like all of my romantic relationships to the present moment, it ended. It wasn’t quite a year before I threw a set of keys on his lap on a crowded street in Melbourne and…

Ho Chi Minh City, also known as Saigon, in Vietnam, where it’s a feat to cross the street, let alone drive. And yet, no one gets cross. There is no road rage here.

One option is to move to Southeast Asia, where driving rules are mere suggestions. But there’s another way.

I gave up road rage about five years before I moved to Southeast Asia. Little did I know the steps I created to free myself from this bad habit would help me immensely while driving not only on the other side of the road, but on the literal other side of the world.

Back when I recognized my rage at my fellow drivers, I was living in south Florida. This is the state where American retirees turn elderly alongside good ole country…

When your boss makes you cry, quit. Quit immediately.

The day they made me cry, I knew it was time to go.

I had been working at an after-school program for children and teens for four years, and it was like a lot of nonprofits. I was really working many jobs: marketing, writing grants and even organizing some events and programs. But I liked it. It was stressful, sure, being responsible for securing millions in grants and spreading the word of all the good work going on. …

My friend Prabalpratap Singh Bhadoria snapped a photo of the water train in Chennai, India, where the water crisis is on the minds of the city’s 10 million thirsty residents.

Still think climate change is fake? Visit Chennai, India, where taps run dry.

I arrived in this South Indian coastal city about six weeks ago to care for a friend’s sweet kitty, who would sit at my feet while I wrote at my computer. I stayed in her upscale, spacious apartment overlooking the relatively litter-free Palavakkam Beach. A man was paid to open the gate every time I left on my Vespa scooter.

On my way to yoga class at 5:30 a.m., I’d pass a surprisingly large number of neighbors playing cricket, fishing or taking walks. The woman on my…

Suzanne Wentley

Suzanne Wentley is a professional writer, full-time traveler, yoga teacher, energy worker and believer in you. Check out

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