Get Out There and Practice Travel

Get Out There and Practice Travel

You don’t have to make your first solo trip two weeks in Europe.

You don’t have to find out whether your body can handle travel by booking an eight-hour flight. And if it’s been years since you’ve traveled because of illness, caregiving, finances, grief, or simply life getting in the way, you don’t have to prove anything by starting with some enormous bucket-list vacation.

Take a practice trip.

Spend one night an hour from home. Take a weekend road trip. Visit a town you’ve always driven past but never explored. Stay somewhere close enough that, if things don’t go as planned, going home is still an option.

A practice trip isn’t really about the destination. It’s about discovering what your version of travel needs to look like.

That is something my mother and I learned almost by accident.

Our First Practice Trip Started After Everything Changed

My mother had always traveled, but her life changed dramatically after what should have been a simple medical procedure.

She was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital when her name was called. When she attempted to stand, both of her knee implants simultaneously failed. She cried out in pain, and a family friend and I had to pick her up and carry her into a wheelchair.

What was supposed to be an initial procedure eventually turned into four more surgeries and months of rehabilitation. My mother spent five months in a rehabilitation center learning how to navigate a life that suddenly looked very different.

At the same time, my maternal grandmother was dying from esophageal cancer. I moved in with my grandfather, and together we cared for my grandmother until she passed away.

My mother’s rehabilitation center was only about two miles from my grandmother’s house, but she wasn’t able to go home to see her mother. The entire situation was incredibly difficult for her.

By the time my mother finally came home after five months of rehabilitation, both of us were emotionally and physically exhausted.

We needed to get away.

But needing a vacation and knowing whether we could actually manage one were two very different things.

Could We Still Travel?

I had recently purchased a Chevy Blazer, my pride and joy, and I drove that thing every chance I got. I suggested that we take a road trip.

My mother wasn’t convinced.

She didn’t know how well she would manage a trip in her wheelchair. We didn’t know what problems we might run into on the road. We didn’t know how difficult lodging would be or how exhausting the whole thing might become.

So instead of planning some enormous vacation, we decided to practice.

Crater Lake National Park in Oregon seemed like a good place to start. My mother had driven through the area on childhood road trips but had never spent more than a couple of hours there. It was about a seven-hour drive for us—far enough to feel like a real vacation, but manageable enough for us to try.

We packed the Blazer and headed out.

And, in true early Vanessa-travel-planning fashion, we didn’t exactly have everything figured out.

Our First Lesson: A Little Planning Helps

We had a wonderful drive to Crater Lake and spent the day exploring the park.

There was only one problem.

We hadn’t arranged anywhere to sleep.

As evening approached, we realized we needed lodging. A room at Crater Lake Lodge was far more than we wanted to spend. A friendly clerk suggested that we try some cabins about ten miles away called Wilson’s Cottages.

Mom and I were nervous about heading off into the unknown, and for a moment we even considered driving home.

Instead, we took the chance.

We drove down a dark, lonely two-lane road with almost no lights to guide us. Although it was only about a seven-mile drive, it felt much longer. If I had been driving faster, I probably would have missed the place altogether.

Eventually, one small illuminated sign appeared:

Wilson’s Cottages.

We weren’t even sure they were open.

I walked into the small wooden building marked “Lobby” and rang the bell. A tall, thin man with a long beard appeared from the back. He was kind and accommodating and told me to follow him.

Then he got on his bicycle.

I got back into the Blazer, and we slowly followed him as he pedaled through the property to our little wooden cabin.

It wasn’t fancy.

It was wonderful.

Sometimes the Place You Didn’t Plan Becomes the Place You Remember

The cabin was rustic, with wood walls and wooden furniture. There was a long table with benches and chairs, a tiny kitchen with a two-burner stove and refrigerator, and two surprisingly spacious bedrooms with old-fashioned bed frames and spring mattresses.

It even had a garage.

After a good night’s sleep, we explored the property and talked with the owners. We learned some of the history of the cottages and discovered that the cabins were exactly the kind of peaceful, rustic getaway we enjoyed.

That place we almost didn’t drive to became somewhere we returned to for years.

My mother and I looked forward to our trips to Crater Lake and Wilson’s Cottages. My niece came along. Teddy, my mother’s service dog, came too. Teddy especially appreciated being there around the Fourth of July because he hated fireworks and loud noises, and the wooded surroundings gave us a quieter place to stay.

Eventually, Wilson’s Cottages closed permanently.

My mother and Teddy have since passed away, too.

But my niece and I still have those memories—the cabin in the woods, Crater Lake, the drives, and the trips that followed.

And they all started because my mother and I decided to see whether we could still travel.

My mom and niece at our cabin at Wilson’s Cottages, Fort Klamath, Oregon.

That Little Trip Prepared Us for a Much Bigger One

Crater Lake wasn’t our only practice vacation.

My mother and I took several smaller trips as we learned how traveling with her new mobility limitations worked. Every trip taught us something.

We learned how to pack more efficiently. We learned what kind of accommodations worked for us. We figured out what my mother needed on a long road trip and what made things unnecessarily difficult. We learned how much we could reasonably do in a day.

Most importantly, we learned that my mother’s wheelchair didn’t mean our traveling days were over.

Eventually, those smaller trips gave us enough confidence to take the plunge and plan a much bigger Wild West road trip.

And that is why I still believe in practice travel.

What Is a Practice Trip?

A practice trip is simply a smaller, lower-risk version of the kind of travel you eventually want to do.

If you dream of traveling solo but have never done it, you might spend one night by yourself in a hotel an hour from home.

If you’re nervous about flying, you might take a short domestic flight before committing to an overseas journey.

If your health or energy has changed, try a two-night getaway before scheduling ten days of sightseeing.

If you use a wheelchair, walker, cane, airport assistance, medical equipment, or a service animal, a short trip gives you an opportunity to learn the logistics without having to solve every problem thousands of miles from home.

And if money is your biggest concern, a nearby trip can help you learn what travel actually costs you before you spend your savings on something bigger.

There is no minimum distance that makes something a “real” trip.

You’re practicing travel, not auditioning for it.

What a Practice Trip Can Teach You

A short trip can answer questions that are difficult to answer sitting at home with a travel guide and a reservation screen.

How long can you comfortably be in the car? How much walking can you realistically manage? Do you need a rest after traveling before you begin sightseeing? Is one major activity per day enough? Do you sleep well in hotels? Did you bring too much? What did you forget?

You may discover that you need a refrigerator for medication or food, a walk-in shower instead of a tub, an elevator, a room closer to the lobby, accessible parking, or more time between activities.

You might discover that a four-hour drive is your comfortable limit even though the directions say you can reach your destination in six.

You might learn that the cheapest hotel isn’t actually the most affordable option once you consider parking, transportation, breakfast, accessibility, and how much energy it takes to get around.

Those discoveries aren’t problems.

They’re information.

And getting that information on a relatively inexpensive weekend close to home can be much easier than discovering it after spending thousands of dollars on the trip you’ve dreamed about for ten years.

Turn Your Road-Trip Stops Into Little Excursions

And don’t overlook the practice trips hiding inside a bigger road trip.

If you’re driving several hours to your destination, you don’t necessarily have to treat the entire drive as something to endure. I stop along the way all the time and turn those breaks into little excursions.

Find a small town you’ve never visited. Stop at a scenic overlook. Have lunch somewhere interesting. Walk around an attraction or park along the route. Sometimes something you didn’t originally plan becomes one of the things you remember most about the trip.

For me, getting out of the car and doing something enjoyable can help break up a long travel day and leave me feeling more refreshed before I continue.

These stops can also teach you something about your travel style. How long do you like to drive before taking a break? Does a short walk feel good after sitting in the car? Do you enjoy having spontaneous stops built into your itinerary, or would you rather know exactly where you’re stopping before you leave?

A road trip doesn’t have to be one long push from Point A to Point B.

Sometimes the places in between are part of the vacation.

Practice Traveling When Your Energy Is Unpredictable

Practice travel becomes especially valuable when you travel with chronic illness.

Your body at home and your body on vacation don’t always behave the same way. Travel days can involve earlier mornings, longer periods of sitting, more walking, unfamiliar food, different beds, medication schedules, temperature changes, stress, and disrupted sleep.

A practice trip gives you an opportunity to see how those things affect you.

Maybe you’ll learn that you need the afternoon after arrival completely free. Perhaps you’ll discover that you can sightsee for three hours comfortably, but five hours leaves you paying for it the next day.

That’s exactly the kind of information you need before planning a bigger trip.

This is also where my Plan A, B, and C approach becomes useful. Your practice trip can help you figure out what your full-energy day, reduced-energy day, and rest day actually look like. Read, How to Plan a Trip When Your Energy Is Unpredictable. You'll get a free planner to make your next vacation easier to manage.

The goal isn’t forcing your body to follow your itinerary. It’s building an itinerary that can change when your body does.

Practice Solo Travel Before You Go Far From Home

Practice trips aren’t only for people with health or mobility concerns.

They’re one of my favorite ideas for someone who wants to travel alone but isn’t quite ready to buy the big ticket.

You don’t need to begin with Paris.

Book a hotel in a nearby city. Go out to dinner alone. Find your hotel after dark. Figure out parking. Have breakfast by yourself. Visit an attraction. Navigate somewhere unfamiliar. Spend an evening deciding what you want to do without having another person there to make the decision.

You may discover that you absolutely love it.

You may also discover that certain situations make you uncomfortable and that you want to prepare differently before going farther away.

Both are valuable.

Do you wonder how to start solo traveling? Check out I’m Over 50 and Want to Travel Alone—Where Do I Start?

Don’t Use a Practice Trip to Prove What You Can Handle

There’s something important I wish more people understood about this.

A practice trip isn’t a test.

You cannot fail it.

Suppose you plan two nights away and come home realizing that you scheduled far too much. That’s not failure.

You learned something.

Maybe you realize you need an extra rest day. Maybe driving and sightseeing on the same day doesn’t work for you. Perhaps you need wheelchair assistance at the airport even though you can walk. Read, I Can Walk—So I Never Thought Airport Assistance Was for Me Travel help you may not know you can ask for

Maybe you need to budget more for transportation so you aren’t walking everywhere. Perhaps you discover that three nights away feels wonderful but seven might be too much right now.

Good. Now you know. Travel doesn’t have to look like anybody else’s travel.

The point isn’t to prove that you can keep up with someone else’s itinerary. The point is to figure out how to make travel fit your body, your budget, your circumstances, and your life.

Take the Practice Travel Challenge

Ready to try it yourself?

Start small and use my Practice Travel Challenge below to plan your first practice trip. Save it to your phone or pin it to Pinterest so you’ll have it when you’re ready to go. Left click to download, click to Join the Tribe

Your job isn’t to have a perfect vacation.

Your job is to learn what will make the next one better.

Start Where You Are

My mother and I didn’t know that our first practice trip to Crater Lake would lead to years of memories at Wilson’s Cottages.

We certainly didn’t know that those smaller trips would eventually help prepare us for a much bigger Wild West adventure.

We were simply trying to answer one question:

Can we still travel?

The answer turned out to be yes.

But the more important lesson was that we couldn’t necessarily travel exactly the way we had before. We had to learn a new way.

That’s something I’ve carried with me ever since.

Your circumstances may be completely different from ours. Maybe you’re taking your first trip after 50. Maybe you’re newly single. Maybe illness changed what your body can do. Maybe caregiving kept you home for years. Maybe money is tight and you’re terrified of spending it on a trip that doesn’t work out.

You don’t have to solve all of that before you travel.

Start small enough that you can learn.

Then adjust.

Then try again.

And when you’re ready, go a little farther.

Get out there and practice travel.

Because sometimes that little trip close to home is the one that teaches you how to take the big trip you’ve been dreaming about.

Get there your way.

Join the Tribe

If you’re trying to figure out how to travel when life doesn’t make it easy, you don’t have to figure it all out by yourself.

Join the Tribe for practical travel ideas, checklists, encouragement, and realistic ways to make travel fit your health, your budget, and your life. Click the button below.

The Single, Sick & Broke Traveler

Travel stories for the brave and budget-conscious.

Contact Me!

nessa@singlesickbroketraveler.com

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