Head ’em up… move ’em OUT!
So, the madness struck last Saturday. Like a jolt of lightning up the backside, our mongrel of the rueful countenance found himself shackled to Rocinante… that trusty chariot of tenuous reliability… fuel tank brimming, compass needle twitching eastward…

• Destination: Lake Wilson
• Aim: to test digital nomading with Rocinante in a familiar setting.
• Mission: to survive the Spring Equinox, a pagan ritual amidst the chilly bluster of high plains breezes, and emerge unscathed by the hoards of Easter sunrise gawkers (come what may).

Survival Test #1:
Victory! He stands, un-trampled by the masses. But the true jousting commences… forsaking the gilded comforts of civilization: showers on command, trash-devouring dumpsters, and ah, the porcelain throne!.

His valiant arsenal?
A folding toilet seat, comically unfit for a king, and biodegradable bags (may the gods smile upon his digestion!). Where Quixote had his helmet, our nomad has…this.

The “Hygiene Conundrum:”
His battle against the stench of unwashed days rivals Quixote’s windmill giants. A portable shower hangs in his thoughts… a flimsy shield against against the prairie winds and full-blown knight errant stank… but then again, would it not be more fitting to embrace the grime as true giant-battling wear?

And the Blazing Sol:
The sun, his merciless foe, threatens to leave him a puddle of sweat and self-pity. He yearns for an awning, a canvas sanctuary akin to a sultan’s tent! But such knightly luxuries demand a king’s ransom… far exceeding that of Quixote’s rusty armor.

A glimmer of hope shimmers on the horizon:
A potential barter. Our digital nomad’s freedom could possibly bought with the “High Country Base Camp” currently collecting pollen dust in Savannah Georgia. A lopsided exchange perhaps, akin to Quixote peddling his broken lance, but a chance for escape nonetheless.

And so it goes…
Yet another baby step closer…
Stay tuned… hot springs or busk!