We’re on the brink of returning. Three more sleeps, a bunch of packing, two plane flights, and we will be back in the real world. The kids are sorted for going back to school and I am waiting to hear about a job that I’m keen on. We’re on the cusp. And already our family adventure is beginning to fade, ghost like. (It’s becoming etheral, so I’m going to catch it with an ethernet )

We’ve spent the last couple of weeks hanging out with family, being tourists a little bit, but mostly just letting the kids bond with their cousins doing normal life. Skype helps with long-distance families, but it’s not the same as having to share your favourite toys.

We spent the Canadian Thanksgiving long weekend at the Waterton Lakes National Park. The windiest place I have ever visited, and I lived in Palmerston North for four years. I should have been warned by the hundreds of wind turbines we passed on the way there, and the funnel shape of the mountains beside the lake when we arrived. On the first night, I had to turn the RV across the camping pad so it was facing into the wind. But it was pretty cool to watch the wind lift sheets of water off the lake and take them up to the sun. And we managed to get in some hikes and mountain biking. It’s taken this long, but I think we are almost getting used to this outdoors stuff.

But before we knew it, we were back and clearing out the RV. We wrangled out six months worth of wedged lego pieces, trapped socks, and miscellaneous detritus, and elbow greased 27,000km of sub-baked bug smears off the bow of our rocket ship. With it all sparkling and shiny, we posed in front of the RV for one last photo and then waved goodbye to our home.

So here I am reflecting on what it has all meant to us. Was it worth it? Would I do it all again? Absolutely, but it hasn’t all been a walk in the park. For my benefit, as much as yours, here are some of things we’ve gained from the trip…

We have a stronger identity as a family. We have a track record of adventuring together. Of coping with spending time with each other. Of missing friends together. Of coping with challenges together. And of talking through and taking risks together – financial, relational, careeral, educational.

We got to learn about the birth of a nation. And about injustices – slavery, mass deportations, racism. Our boys now play America-vs-Britain wars and see the British as colonial oppressors. Just wait till they get their heads around the USA’s role in the world now.

We have learned to value adventure and what we can achieve as a family. We have a good feel for what our limits are together – how far we can ride or hike, what we can climb up or swim in. It’s a given that our trip has been something out of the normal, but I am determined that we will also make space for adventure in the normal. I prefer not to think of what we’ve done as some great trip not many people get to do, but as 130 weekends stuck together. Going forward, every weekend has great potential, as long as it’s not overrun by things I could have done in during the week. Here’s looking at you, lawns.

So we’re on the cusp of returning, but a little different than we were before. As with all things, the detail is slowly receding but the best memories will always be kept safe and treasured. And now, bring on the weekend!

Nothing like being a vibrant extrovert in a world of evergreens – Akamina Lake, Waterton National Park, Alberta.

And there were only four bikes on the rack this time. Thankfully, we only had a couple of buckled wheels – Waterton National Park, Alberta.

Kids, rocks, water – Cameron Lake, Waterton National Park, Alberta.

Evening sunlight on Mt Crandell. The sticky out bit is the Bear’s Hump, which we climbed the next day – Waterton National Park, Alberta.

Hiking up to the Bear’s Hump on Mt Crandell – Waterton National Park, Alberta.

Kyla taking a shortcut on the way up to the Bear’s Hump – Waterton National Park, Alberta.

Views from the top of the Bear’s Hump on Mt Crandell – Waterton National Park, Alberta.

After 27,000km and 6 months (almost to the day), we’re done. The RV is all unloaded and ready to be returned and go into storage, and we’re getting ready to go back into normal life – Fernie, British Columbia.

Fall colours on the hils above town – Fernie, British Columbia.