I am not exactly homeless. I just moved around during my working years and made a home for a while wherever I landed. Now, I travel fulltime in my RV.

I started in the Midwest and then spent most of my adult years in the West: Colorado, Arizona, California, Wyoming, Idaho. When asked, Where are you from, I  never had a quick, sure answer. Usually I remarked, I was raised in the Midwest, which is not entirely true. I also spent summers and holidays with my Dad in New York (Long Island in the summer, NYC in the winter).

Everyone should have a ready answer about their home, so I began a quest to define mine, considering my many moves. I discovered that I have a “territory” not a home. That is, my home is the Rocky Mountain region, up one side and down the other. The Rockies are my home, from the first thrust of rock near Albuquerque, to the last rise up in Canada. The terrain: sagebrush, ponderosa pine, prairie grass, glaciers, and western larch. Rivers, lakes, snow fields, deserts, and endless ranges that hold unique secrets form my home boundaries. My home spreads north and south, and I am like the birds who cruise along the flyways.

My home is a territory with diverse moods, terrain, and people, and I can visit any of them when the urge hits. Yet, social convention and certain laws require that I have a driver’s license and home address somewhere. Banks won’t do business with someone who does not have a home address, and mail becomes an issue when you are traveling. The Affordable Care Act (ACA), which provides my insurance, also mandates that I have a home state.

In my first year of traveling the U.S., I cobbled together a front: driver’s license and address in Idaho, mail forwarding service in Florida, license plates in North Dakota, the last place I lived before retiring. When Idaho Health, who administers the ACA had a letter from them to me returned, they asked me to prove residency. Then, Kootenai County in Idaho started sending me letters about jury duty. I kept asking for extensions, but finally they set a date in April, when I am still in New Mexico. A person cannot run from jury duty forever.

Okay. I need to get everything in one state. Where? Where in the Rockies, my home territory? I consider my needs and wants, my son and daughter-in-law. I am tired of white majority states and the racist, selfish, small thinking that resides there. North Dakota and Idaho are approximately 90% white, while Wyoming is 92% white. Non-whites in those states are poor and marginalized. The lack of diversity is an issue for me on many levels; for example, I recently obtained a certificate for teaching English as a Second language (ESL). Another issue: as a Democrat, voting in those states is futile, and my vote never counts.

Some of my thoughts as I worked out my home state: I started out as a young adult in Arizona, and I love the Southwest vibe. However, much of that state is now urban sprawl and polluted air. I could use my ESL training there and my vote could make a difference, but the State Park system is expensive with no concessions for seniors. I would like easy access to Arizona and Mexico, but Colorado is too crowded. Utah is too white and conservative. Then, my epiphany. How about right where I am, New Mexico? When I lived in Colorado and Wyoming, I came to Taos for R and R. I participated in a Habitat for Humanity build in Santa Fe. I had and still have the Land of Enchantment bug. Furthermore, the state is as diverse as you can get in the U.S, with a nearly 50% Hispanic population. My vote will matter, the landscape is varied with many places to explore, and the State Park annual pass for senior residents is a steal at $100 (free day use and camping, $4 extra per night if I want hookups).

Initially, I considered New Mexico for other reasons. First, I found a community here. The RV Ranch  is a singles place. The general RV population is mostly couples, and a single person is not invited to social events. Making friends is difficult and the sense of isolation, wearing. Here, life is just the opposite: fun, inclusive, invigorating. We have weekly social events, including a trip for lunch in Mexico, and I can attend any or none. People watch out for each other and everyone is accepted into the fold. In fact, each of us is quirky and nonconformist in our own way, something I prefer. Many other single women stay here for at least part of the year, and some drive huge Class A Motorhomes and tow a car. It is a tough bunch; a few are in their 80s and going strong. Lots of mentors. Sometimes the group even travels together.

The second reason I began to consider New Mexico: I had already decided that my main issue now is immigration. I am only 30 miles from the border, and if a wall-building budget passes, I can participate in demonstrations and in sanctuary efforts.

Finally, I began to consider New Mexico because this town has a private mail forwarding service! What a lucky break: a mailing address with the same zip code as the Ranch, and it is 50% less than the service in Florida. Great development, to get those two addresses aligned.

Fast forward: as I write, I am a New Mexico resident and it feels just right. I have a drivers’ license (which requires residence address, in my case the Ranch), proof of insurance, the $100 State Parks pass, a mailing address (they will forward mail to wherever I want, such as General Delivery, Gardiner, MT). I have switched my ACA health insurance to New Mexico with a huge savings in my monthly premium. Up next: plates for my van and camper, then a local bank account.

Of course, I will still travel for fun, for volunteer opportunities, and to be with my son and daughter-in-law. After all, the Rockies are my real home territory, even though I have roots now in New Mexico.

State Flower

Territory