This past summer I wrote a blog wondering what my next adventure was going to be and it seems I have found it. In mid-September, I hopped in my car with my two dogs and drove across the country to Malibu, California, to try West Coast living for a spell. After six weeks of interminably sunny weather, beaches that go on forever and awfully nice people (more on that in a future blog), I am declaring this adventure a success.

As a crusty New Englander, I was hesitant about living the sunny life. Just think, I’d be missing out on snow, rain, the smell of autumn leaves, cleaning out the gutters, losing power, scraping the windshield…is it any wonder why I wouldn’t be homesick? Instead, I walk on the beach admiring dolphins and sea lions (or, are they admiring me?), I hike in the hills, I camp, I bike and I have even tried surfing. I have also started a job hunt with an eye toward a minor career reinvention.

On the whole, California living is pretty magical. Having spent three months last summer touring around the West in a van, I came to appreciate desert conditions and warm temperatures, but the lack of plumbing and a place to call home did wear thin toward the end. This time, I live in a proper house, instead of a van, and I am developing community ties. I play in the Malibu Softball League, I have made friends, my dogs have made friends, and I am acquiring a decidedly un-New England tan.

I have even found a way to incorporate old adventures into this new one. This past weekend, I rented two vans and went camping with a group of friends at Jalama Beach. It was fun to introduce new people to my old van life. They were amazed when I produced edible quesadillas from the galley in the back of the van and turned the inside of the vehicle into respectable sleeping accommodations. We built fires and made s’mores. And all of it felt so natural and comfortable for me (in fact, while I was there I realized that a year ago to the day, my Whatever Journey van trip was coming to an end in Joshua Tree). Then, after two nights of “roughing it,” we made our way back to Malibu, took showers in our bathrooms and tumbled into our own beds. Really, it was the best of both worlds.

So, perhaps that is what I’m doing here—attaining the best of two worlds. I can’t imagine a winter without snow, but the mountains aren’t far away. So, instead, I imagine heading off to Mammoth for a weekend of riding, followed by a Monday morning walk on the beach with the dogs. As adventures go, this one is not too shabby.