She makes way less than me and does all of this. How?
That’s the question I want people asking. Because the answer isn’t money. It’s knowing the things nobody’s telling you.
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I grew up in northern Michigan.
Travel felt like it was for other people.
We camped. We did Michigan Adventures once, Virginia Beach once, the UP once. That was it. I loved it — all of it — but when someone asked me what I was into, I wanted to say travel. I just wasn’t sure I was allowed to call myself a traveler when it took me two weeks to save gas money to go 2 tracking for half a day.
So far out of reach. Until it wasn’t.
That’s the thing nobody tells you. It doesn’t take as much as you think — money, time, or experience. It mostly takes deciding to go.
“Really. I have this car that can go anywhere.
I have these days off.
I am capable.
We are going to the ocean.”
— A Wednesday afternoon in Michigan. The beginning of everything.
Nobody planned it.
Nobody was available.
We went anyway.
It was a Wednesday. The grass had slowed because of no rain, which meant I had a stretch of days off — not planned in advance, just suddenly there. Kids were home. I went to take a nap and lay there thinking about the car I’d bought specifically so we could go anywhere, the days off I had right now, the fact that I was fully capable of doing this.
So I got up. Looked up the closest ocean. Virginia Beach. Told the kids to pack their bags. Put it in the GPS and drove.
When we got close there were signs everywhere — Virginia Beach — and I just followed them. We pulled into a town that was fully alive. Shops. Street performers. Live music. A little fair built right in. And the ocean. The waves were enormous — like swimming in a storm. My kids saw the ocean for the first time.
That day I found out something important: I can go anywhere. Driving 16 hours to see the ocean, to get the vibe, to find new places — that’s a gift. And I had it in me the whole time.
Then came Florida. Alone with the kids — 22 hours, just us. The person I was supposed to go with canceled when I was pulling up to get them. I had a hotel waiting in Florida. The first night a friend happened to be in Georgia for his son’s game and got us a room at his hotel — which felt like the universe saying keep going. And we did. Saw palm trees for the first time. An alligator. An armadillo. 60 degrees warmer than Michigan.
That was the second time I knew for certain: this is doable. This is so doable. And now it’s what I live for.
I built the thing I was trying to find.
I had a favorite site — the kind that tells a fairy tale about a place. The musical highway, the abandoned Six Flags, the strange and beautiful things hiding in plain sight. Love letters left out for you to find. I still use it every single trip. But the problem was getting there. The listings existed but finding them in real life — with actual directions, real context, something you could plan around — that was another story. So I started going out and finding the things myself. Figuring out exactly where they were, how to get there, what was true and what wasn’t. A guy we met in Arizona told us the whole history of a place we’d read about — and explained exactly why what we’d been told was wrong, right down to the building materials used. That was the moment. Real information changes everything.
Nobody’s telling you about the free hike in Arizona. Nobody mentions that when you cross that one bridge you should look for dolphins because that’s where they like to play. Everyone’s selling you to whoever paid the most. That’s not information. That’s noise.
Road Trip Owl is the place where the real things live. I always write first — then figure out how to make it worth something. If a brand I already love wants to be part of that, great. But you’re still going to hear just as much about the free version. You’re still going to hear me say you don’t need the tour to see the thing. You’re still going to get every option laid out with honest pros and cons so you can pick what’s actually right for you. And yes — sometimes that means the weird temple for lunch that you never would have thought of. 🦉
The hidden stuff
The free hike. The bridge dolphins. The temple lunch your niece will suggest that you never would have thought of. The things that make you dream about coming back.
The honest money math
You don’t need the snorkeling tour to snorkel. You can buy gear on Amazon and snorkel for a fraction of the price — and free after that. But when the tour is worth it, I’ll tell you that too.
The real trip plan
Step by step. What hotel, what price, what time to do things, what to skip if you’re running late, what extras exist in the area for the things I don’t love but you might.
This is not a rich person’s hobby.
I’m not flying business class on brand deals. I’m a real person with a real budget, two kids, a full life happening, and a deep need to see everything before I run out of time. Here’s what that actually looks like.
Trips a year — some weekends, some 2 weeks
Per person — 11 people, 9 nights Florida, everything included
Per person — Michigan to Key West, full west and east coast of Florida
The weird thing is you staying home.
The number one reason people say they can’t travel is money. And I hear you — I really do. I spent a whole summer saving gas money just to go tracking for half a day. Making choices every week about what we could and couldn’t do. I get it.
But here’s what I know: carpool. I have been on vacation with my sisters, parents, mother-in-law, nieces, friends, kids’ friends, kids’ friends’ parents. When you go with someone else you don’t just split the cost — you get their brain. My niece had us stopping at a temple for lunch. I never would have thought of that. Another sister spots the abandoned hotel from the highway and says well we’re going in. That’s a gift, not a problem.
And the gear? You don’t need the snorkeling tour to snorkel. Buy the gear and snorkel for a fraction of the price — free every single time after that. Put it on the birthday list. Fill the Easter basket with it. Ask the grandparents to gift the gear and you gift the trip. There is always a way to make it cheaper, and usually someone in your life who would love to be part of making it happen.
And when you haven’t been many places yet, the free things are almost endless. The paid things have ways to cost less. Gift cards on Black Friday. Points you were already earning. Timeshare presentations. Skipping the drinks. Cooking some meals. One less dinner out a week is a day trip.
It adds up faster than you think. The trip is possible. I promise you it is.
This is for the person who finds $20 on the ground and thinks: more gas.
For the person who sleeps 5 hours on vacation so they can drive that extra hundred miles to see the place nobody else went. Who changes plans on the fly with the biggest smile. Who wants to dream about the next trip while they’re still at work.
For the person who wants to look back at 75 and say they were never this young again and they used every single minute.
And for the person who’s standing at the edge of the diving board wanting to jump but not sure yet. I was you. I really was. Standing in northern Michigan saving gas money wondering if travel was actually something I was allowed to want.
The answer is yes. You are allowed. And I can show you exactly how to get there. 🦉
Ready to go somewhere?
Start with where you want to go — or let me convince you somewhere is worth it.
Still on the fence? Reach out and let’s figure it out together. That’s what I’m here for.