Called To Wander (2026)

15/03/2026

A beautiful thing happened yesterday, and I felt the need to share. But like all good stories, there is a bit of background you should read first.

We have not been actively sharing the story of our life on the road lately, for reasons I explained in our latest newsletter. What started as an incredibly naive dream to drive from Alaska to Argentina in 2018 has turned into years of other adventures, most of which are beyond any imagination we had until we found ourselves in the midst of them.

Lindsay's father, Jim, passed away unexpectedly in 2022. We were starting our first season of work camping in Custer State Park and she flew back to Florida to tend to all of the decisions and logistics involved in wrapping up her father's life. Two thousand miles away, I stayed with our pups and supported her in any way she needed.

Lindsay never had the chance to say farewell to her father. The last time he called, we were too wrapped up in watching some show on Netflix I'll never remember. He left a voicemail. That's the last time she heard his voice.

Jim had very little to leave behind. But he had no will for these things, nor for his final wishes. Unsure of what he would have wanted, and with the financial burden falling on us, we decided to cremate his remains so that he could travel with us.

We had no formal service for him. Nobody he knew indicated they could or would attend a service. And where would we have it? Jim was a bit of a nomad himself. He had no roots. Only tendrils stretching in different directions, mostly around small towns in Florida.

Lindsay flew back to South Dakota a week later and shared that she knew in her heart what she wanted to do to honor her father. As a child, they frequently went on road trips together and fished offshore as often as possible. Jim wore a marlin pendant around his neck, a fish he had never caught but always admired.

Lindsay decided she wanted to take his remains on a fishing trip in Baja. She wanted to catch a marlin and release it with her father's ashes into the sea. This was her beautiful dream and we set out to achieve it.

That winter, we hired a local captain and went dozens of miles off the coast of Baja into the vast Pacific in search of her marlin. It was late in the season, but captains were reporting that the marlin were still striking. We put ourselves in the best position we could to fulfill her wishes of honoring her father.

We struck out on that trip. It was a sober ride home, with several hours of silence as I held her and wished for the whole world that we could have caught a marlin.

A day or so later, Lindsay came to me and told me that she knew another way she could honor her father. She wanted to take him fishing in all fifty states. It was ambitious. But we set the plan in motion by saving everything we could.

I charted a course that would take us through every state, broken into segments of either one ambitious year or spread out across two years. We'd always break up winters with a return to Baja. Maybe we could find a marlin there, or finish the trip back in Florida with the chance to land one there.

Unfortunately, between budget-breaking breakdowns and my confronting my alcohol dependence, we had to abandon that dream too, in 2024.

But Lindsay never lost hope of honoring her father's memory. We hiked to the top of a mountain in Custer State Park on his birthday, said a prayer and scattered some of Jim's ashes in a place he had never been but would certainly enjoy. He would enjoy any place with Lindsay. But there's no going back now.

This winter has been particularly warm in Baja. The warmer waters have kept or brought back dorado (mahi mahi) and marlin when they would normally not be around.

While leading one of our RV caravans into La Paz, Lindsay saw a post from a captain we had hired in the past, who revealed that his guests were catching dorado and striped marlin as recently as this week.

We had a free day and two guests who were interested in a fishing trip. So we woke early yesterday and drove to meet our captain. Within ten minutes of setting our trolling lines behind the boat, a massive dorado hit the lure.

The dorado was off before we could set the hook. But it was a great start to what we thought would be a bountiful day.

Then we trolled for nearly 4 hours with nothing but blue skies and a fairly calm sea to keep us entertained. Our captain continued to troll back and forth past buoys that marked where the dorado should be. We watched other fishermen land and haul the bright yellow colored dorado into their boats.

But nothing for us.

As the sun started baking the four of us, we decided it was time to throw in the towel and head back. But our captain was determined. He baited two lines with large ballyhoo and dragged them a hundred and fifty feet or so behind the boat, covering the same ground we had already passed maybe five or six times already.

Then the pole bent in half and someone yelled out, "Fish on!" The captain quickly ran to the back of the boat and very methodically set the hook.

Then began what would be a 2-hour battle with the four of us rotating turns at landing what appeared to be a sizable striped marlin. Although we preferred mahi mahi for the savory filets, Lindsay had brought some of her father's ashes with her and was prepared for the challenge ahead.

The marlin fought valiantly, leaping multiple times as we reeled as much as we could with any line he gave us.

There were times it pulled back so hard the line went the wrong way on the reel as it retreated hundreds of feet beneath us. With every pull, we'd wait patiently for the marlin to give just enough to claw back the line we had lost.

Lindsay had her turn several times in this magnificent battle. At some point, the captain tapped me on the shoulder and told me to finish the job.

This would take another half hour or so. But eventually we brought the spectacular fish alongside the boat, measuring what we would later find to be over 8 feet in length and weighing nearly 150 pounds.

Unfortunately, the marlin had swallowed the hook, a fatal decision that led the captain to tell us the fish would not survive if we released it. So the captain and I hauled the big, beautiful marlin into the boat and we all stood in genuine awe at the creature. It was truly remarkable, designed in every capacity for the life it led beneath the sea.

A few minutes later, Lindsay held a portion of her father's ashes in her hand and released them in the wind. As they fell into the sea, the remains slowly drifted down to where the marlin had come from.

It was a fair exchange, in taking the marlin from the sea for Lindsay's father's remains. It was, quite literally, a dream come true for a woman who had waited several years for the opportunity to say farewell to some degree to the man with the marlin chain around his neck.

I wish Jim could have been there with us. I wish she had never had to say goodbye. But so is life, and death, they say.

Embrace the ones you love. Pick up the phone when they call. You're never too busy to say hello, because farewell will take the rest of your life, and you may find yourself year after year, boat after boat, in pursuit of your marlin.

Yesterday, Lindsay caught her marlin. We know her father sent it, with whatever sway he has in Heaven. God knows Jim was a great salesman, and even God Himself would not protest the deal we know he had proposed.

Thanks, Jim. This day will not be forgotten. And neither will you.

10/03/2026

FROM THE MOST RECENT NEWSLETTER
Sign up here: https://expert-author-8652.kit.com/51e61518be

Subject: Our upcoming journey to find the good in everyone, everywhere!

Hello friend!

By my records, I have not shared an update on our life and journey on the road since the early part of September. In that dispatch, I shared the intimate details of how Lindsay and I became the owners of Baja Amigios RV Caravan Tours, the largest caravan business operating in the Baja Peninsula.

Operating the company has become a passion for us, one that has consumed a lot of time and energy over the past year, but which has been quite fulfilling. We kind of put Called To Wander on hold as we transitioned into doing everything it takes to market, book and operate our RV caravans.

Right now, we’re in the middle of leading our 3rd tour of the season (personally leading… We have 4 other tours led by other wagonmasters!).

LOTS of moving parts. But this season has been good to us, and it has provided us the opportunity to take a chance doing something new, something we hope will be fun and something we sense will change the world in big ways.

Before we get too far along with yet another time-consuming project, we wanted to reach out to give you a little background and to ask you to assist us, if you will.

SOMEONE TELL CHRIS

Around three years ago, I realized that I was becoming a very bitter man. And for the past 3 years, I haven’t done much to change that.

COVID did something to human beings beyond just the physical. It impacted them spiritually and manifested itself through social interactions. I’m just as guilty of practicing the same characteristics I’m about to describe. It hasn’t helped the world for the last 3 years or so that I’ve just continued to live the way I learned to live during COVID - a little more selfishly, less aware of others around me, seeking my own security.

That’s all about to change.

I mean, well, it is changing. At least, I’d like to think it is.

Michael Jackson, of all people, talked about the “man in the mirror” and described almost perfectly the challenge we all face. If we’re not willing to change ourselves, how can we change the world?

Lately, I’ve become more generous with just about everything. Though I warn you, don’t ask me to share dessert. That’s off limits!

It’s easier to be generous in Mexico than in the US, though. For one thing, paper Pesos look like monopoly money and are worth approximately 0.06 of a dollar bill, so they’re easy to dole out. For another thing, there is so much need here in Mexico that just a handful of Pesos can make a big difference in the lives of Mexicans we meet.

And I've been more intentional about engaging in conversations with strangers. What kind of strangers? Any kind!

But what happens when we return to the US at the end of the month? How can I be generous and engage with strangers north of the border?

Someone Tell Chris…

Someone Tell Chris is Lindsay and my personal experiment to find the good in everyone, everywhere we travel. As I have so often felt inundated with negativity - from news channels to TV shows and movies and “doom scrolling” through social media - I realized there HAS to be something else that is worth sharing, something worth being addicted to in a good way.

So, a few weeks ago, I started asking random people to tell me something good. Someone at the gas station. A checkout clerk. A campground host. Anybody.

When you ask them, if they truly heard you (some people in these positions are used to not having anyone say anything to them all day), then you can see the wheels start to turn behind their eyes.

Most answers have been related to waking up and being alive. I mean, if that’s what 9 out of 10 people I ask think is good, that’s great news! Keep being grateful to be alive!

However, I know it’s just scratching the surface of the good that is inside and/or has taken place in the lives of every stranger I meet.

So, I think I’m going to be “that guy.” Yeah, the annoying one who walks up to you in the middle of a crowd to ask you to complete a survey or try out some sample product. Except I’m not asking for anything other than to find out what is good in that person’s life at that particular moment in time.

From there, well, my imagination can’t begin to capture all of the good things we hope to learn about the people and places we visit from April to May. We’re going to drive from Los Angeles to Chicago along what is left of the Historic Route 66 as we make our way to represent Alliance RV as brand ambassadors at the national rally.

As we drive, we’ll camp in some cool places where we can head into town and start getting to know people we meet. Yeah, this means my very first episode will include me walking around the Santa Monica Pier digging for answers… talk about trial by fire. I’m already anxious just thinking about it!

Then we’ll head to smaller towns, some more or less just off the interstate and others still on the narrow backroads that made up the historic route. I plan to meet locals and tourists… pretty much anybody who will talk with me!

Most people will likely ignore me or avoid me altogether. We expect many interactions will be short. But every now and then, Lindsay and I suspect that we’ll meet someone really unique who has a really, really good story to tell. From there, who knows where the episode will go.

But what I can tell you is that we feel like there is not enough good in the world. And while there are so many other forms of entertainment fighting for your attention, we hope our new series will bring some joy into your lives.

And, if you watch closely, you may see the personal transformation that I hope to experience along the way.

I don’t want to become bitter. I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to judge others critically. I don’t want to feel like society is doomed.

I want to know what’s good.

Real people. Real places. Real good.

How Can I Help?

We’re in the planning phases now. And the one thing we know for certain from our life on the road is that plans must always be subject to change.

However, the goal is to film our episodes between April and May and have them ready to release as a full season beginning in July. Route 66 is turning 100 this year, just as America hits 250. So we thought a post-July 4th release would be a good way to celebrate both.

We’ll ask you then to check out the episodes, subscribe to the channel and engage with us in the video comments. Everyone knows that YouTube operates on an “algorithm” and we could use your help in getting some algo-momentum!

We have also formed a Facebook group where we are going to try to collect as many members willing to share as many good things as what happens to them. This group will go live when we start talking with strangers in Santa Monica at the beginning of April. We’ll share the link then and ask you to help us build a positive, supportive community of goodness!

Then, if you happen to live near the historic route, we’d love the chance to connect with you on the road. Please respond to this if you’re along the way and would like to meet up!

Your prayers, of course, are always welcome as we are hitting the road with as much optimism as we have had since we first hit the road on March 28, 2018. But just as that journey to reach Alaska and then turn south toward Argentina was so full of surprises, we’re only certain of the plan and less certain of how God will show up along the way.

We have been blessed abundantly with a fully booked Baja Amigos caravan season, so we have the certainty to begin what we hope will become a lifelong journey at the beginning of April. We’ll pause for a few months over the summer as we return to Custer State Park to work camp in different capacities this year. There, we will do a Black Hills-themed season of Someone Tell Chris before we head further west after Labor Day.

Plans… plans… James 4:13 hits hard right about now as we look toward our journey with a particular level of certainty. We’re certain we’ll complete the journey, but we’re also afraid of booking any campgrounds for specific dates along the way!

While building Baja Amigos RV Caravan Tours is our passion, at the core of everything we do is one human being or another that we aim to leave a positive mark on in passing. So we’re hoping that we’re making the right decision to invest our “Baja off-season” into diving deeper into the lives of strangers we hope to call friends.

If you have any ideas for us on how we can successfully build Someone Tell Chris into a household name, might be in the area along the route we travel or want to be involved in any way, please let us know!

As always, we’re grateful that you’ve chosen to invest part of your life into our story.

Updates coming soon!

Love,

Chris & Lindsay + Everest + Huckleberry!

25/01/2026

Present day: Huck on Drugs

We live a very controversial life in that we believe that our dogs should be allowed to be dogs as often as possible (yet, in seeming contradiction, we also allow them to sleep in our bed with us… another point of contention with some people!).

Part of being a dog is getting to chase rabbits. While Everest still believes that she can (she turns 10 tomorrow!), she doesn’t even bother to chase anymore. Once, she caught a “drunk squirrel” and didn’t know what to do with it. I think, for her, it’s more about the idea of the chase than what to do with the catch (she’s a deep thinker!).

Huck, on the other hand, is a “dogs dog.” While being an incredibly loving, human-like companion, he still loves being a dog, and he cares more for the catch than the chase. And he’s caught a lot of critters in his time. But never an adult rabbit. (Yes, sadly, his first catch was a baby rabbit he surprised while walking - on leash! - in the Black Hills of South Dakota.)

We were walking in a beautiful park in Yuma, Arizona the other evening just past sunset, when a rabbit crossed our path and dared Huck to the challenge of the chase. Before taking off, Huck looked up at Lindsay and I for permission.

We knew he stood no chance. But part of letting a dog be a dog is watching their incredible speed, muscle and agility come out in ways God intended it for them.

We nodded approval, and off he went!

The rabbit knew exactly how to win the chase, and it ducked into a thicket of various thorny plants. As the sun had set and darkness was quickly setting in, we heard a rustling here and a rustling there.

After a moment, we called Huck back and he came immediately, tongue hanging out with a “crap eating grin” on his face. He hadn’t caught the rabbit. But he had enjoyed the chase and was not one bit discouraged that he did not catch the rabbit.

(Yes, part of allowing dogs “off leash” is ensuring they have great recall, which we’ve trained our dogs to do.)

Sometime later that night Huck began yelping and holding his right paw off the ground. We’re used to pulling parts of cacti out of his paws. So we searched the pads and in the webbing between his claws and there was nothing.

But he hurt. And bad.

The vet we always take him to when he’s hurt in Yuma(which is regularly!) couldn’t see him the next day. So we nursed him for 36 hours until she could see him.

In that time, we learned it was his “wrist” joint and not his paw. We began worrying about a broken bone or torn ligaments. Both would be incredibly costly and, worse, terribly challenging to nurse from our RV while also delivering 2 caravans in Baja over the next 2 months.

Fast forward, $1,200 worth of imaging, sedation, testing and medication, we learned that a spine of one of the prickly shrubs beneath which the rabbit scurried had wedged itself in his wrist joint, out of sight and beyond where we had been able to search.

Buddy, one of his many nicknames, spent the rest of the day coming out of sedation. In that pre-vet day and the two days following, Huck turned to me to pick him up and carry him in and out of the trailer/truck to go potty and in and out of bed to rest. He’s an incredibly sensitive pup, trusting us entirely with his care and well being.

And he (and Everest) teaches me all the time about what love is, making me grateful for parents who looked after me as we do for him and do a God who is Love, beyond anything else, and who reveals facets of this love through various circumstance, some as simple as the chase.

Huck is on the mend. Doctor’s orders calls for 2 weeks of rest. Two days in, he’s already ready for the next chase. However, sometimes dogs can’t be dogs. Sometimes they have to be patients under doctors orders, though like children they may not understand why.

He’ll be ready midway through our next tour through Baja, by the time we hit his favorite beach, where no rabbit will dare entice him to the chase. But, like his mom and dad, his roots in the sunshine, sand and saltwater will once again restore him!

20/01/2026

Day 42 of 150 The Story of Our Life On the Road
11/3/19 Our First Night in Baja

Baja was supposed to be a short leg of a much longer multi-year journey along the Pan American Highway. Having made it all the way north to Deadhorse, Alaska, the farthest north one can drive in Alaska, and having swam in the Arctic Ocean, our southward journey was sidelined almost from the start.

Additional mechanical repairs took us from Alaska to Florida in the fall of 2018, where a friend offered to make the repairs for a fraction of the cost elsewhere. We decided to work odd jobs to save up for the next leg of the journey, which was to head west and rejoin the Pan American Highway, moving south through the Baja Peninsula.

During this time, we became social media friends with another couple around our age in a truck camper like ours, who were interested in driving the rest of the Pan Am with us. Before we committed to the years of travel together, we decided it would be good to meet in Baja and spend a long weekend traveling together.

These friends lived a short distance away in San Diego and still needed 6 months or so to finish building their rig and saving for the trip.

When the truck repairs were paid for and we had a little extra in the travel funds account, we headed toward California, dragging our feet as much as we could until we could meet the couple on a beach along the Pacific Ocean in northern Baja.

Here we are, completely unprepared for the grip the Baja Peninsula would have on our lives and the future it would offer us, one in which we could help others experience the beauty of Baja and fall further in love with it one trip after the next.

Here we were, watching the sun go down on the first of what would become thousands of sunsets in Baja over the next 6 years and beyond.

[This is one story, told in 1,000 words of a photo, that relates our call to wander, in no particular order.)

19/01/2026

Day 41 of 150 The Story of Our Life On the Road
12/24/24 Merry Christmas

One of the greatest joys we find on the road is the freedom to choose where to go and for how long to spend there. But, by far, the most challenging part of living full-time on the road is being away from the family and friends with whom we spent decades of our lives.

Every now and then, whether because of global catastrophe or just good timing, we find ourselves back in Florida able to spend time with those we love.

This time last year, we were transitioning from our motorhome into our brand-new Alliance RV 23ML fifth-wheel trailer. We left South Dakota in the fall, driving 2,000 miles away from Baja and back to Florida, when our engine sputtered and we broke down just outside of Albert Lea, Minnesota.

During that ordeal, my parents placed it in our minds to make the major leap from a paid-off motorhome into a new truck and trailer. So upon arriving in Florida in time to weather a hurricane, we sold our motorhome, purchased the truck and remained several months in Florida waiting for our new trailer to be built.

This was wonderful because we got to spend Christmas with our full families, celebrating the holidays with those people we love so much but rarely see.

Huckleberry and Everest both spent a considerable amount of time in my parents' house when they were puppies. So when I tell them "we're going home," it means as much to them as it does to me.

[This is one story, told in 1,000 words of a photo, that relates our call to wander, in no particular order.)

18/01/2026

Day 40 of 150 The Story of Our Life On the Road
12/2/25 The Office

They say that if you find a way to make a living doing what you love, then you will never work a day in your life. They say a lot of things like this, too. But the reality is, even if you love what you do, there is a lot of work that goes into nurturing this passion project.

But every now and then, well, the passion project delivers an office with a view like this, a natural hot spring built into the side of a canyon at the end of the Sierra La Leguna mountain range at the southern end of the Baja Peninsula.

To tell you the story of how we came to own the largest RV caravan company operating in Baja would take more words than Facebook and Instagram would allow. It was and is a miracle, a blessing that came at the expense of years of grinding it out to learn how much it takes to truly invest your heart and mind in your business.

But you should know, we work hard for the days like these which, incidentally, was actually work as we were scouting out new adventures on which to take our guests!

Whether we never work a day longer in our lives, or we work harder every day to grow our passion and livelihood into whatever comes next, we do not take for granted the blessings we have and the obligation for us to remain stewards of these and to share them as often as we can.

[This is one story, told in 1,000 words of a photo, that relates our call to wander, in no particular order.)

17/01/2026

Day 39 of 150 The Story of Our Life On the Road
12/5/17 The Dancing Desert Man

One thing most people don't think about before diving into the world of "content creators" and "influencers" is choosing a name and branding to support who you were, who you are and who you might one day be.

(Writing this, maybe it's a good idea we all put that consideration into our own lives!)

Lindsay and I had, and continue to have, great mentorship from some of the most successful travel influencers in the world. One thing our mentors said, well before we purchased our truck and camper, was to think about how our story might change once we get on the road.

We spent some time considering who we were in the past, who we were in the present and who we wanted to be. Having met in Cuba, married in Honduras and already begun our marriage by purchasing a sailboat older than the two of us, adventure was in our nature. We didn't own a house, and didn't see a way we would in the near future. Wandering was the easy part...

But what we truly felt was more than just tacking the word "wander" (or its variations) onto our last name. This is a common practice now among modern influencers and content creators.

We felt a calling from God, something deeper inside of us than we had ever known, and there was no way to separate this call from our desire to wander.

It took little time after this drawing to feel ourselves gradually becoming our brand, Called To Wander, and we'd embrace it more every day thereafter.

Looking back on nearly 8 years on the road, I'm glad we put more thought into our name and brand. God has led us beyond anything we ever imagined when we first took to the road.

[This is one story, told in 1,000 words of a photo, that relates our call to wander, in no particular order.)

13/01/2026

Present day, San Felipe, Baja California. This is Vicente. He’s my churro pusherman.

Vicente and I go back to the very first week we ever visited Baja, November 2019. Lindsay and I camped near the Malecon and walked down in the evening for a handful of tacos al pastor.

One day, Vincente tapped me on the shoulder and simply said, “churro?”

Only knowing churros from Taco Bell, but (sadly) being delighted by that experience, I responded just as plainly, “Si!”

8 minutes later, I held a greasy bag of freshly made churros, the batter hand squeezed into oil by a wheeled contraption, dipped and rolled in sugar and packed away into the paper bag.

I handed over the equivalent of around $1.50 in pesos and my world changed forever.

In the years since, Lindsay my san felipe malecon visits were infrequent. But they always included tacos al pastor. Vicente, being a clever entrepreneur, moved his churro cart next to the tacos stand and that was the end of my self control.

It’s been over two years since we’ve returned to the San Felipe malecon. But we were craving tacos al pastor and we knew we had only one option for those.

After ordering our tacos and standing to the side, watching the sky light up in pink and purple hues unique to the eastward Sea of Cortez in San Felipe, I felt that gentle tap on my shoulder and knew immediately who it was.

“Churros,” an older, male Mexican voice said.

“Si!”

(It’s a strange life we live, where we travel thousands of miles each year following the promise of riches, or at least of making ends meet, like nomadic Bedouin traders. We make giant loops, zig zags, criss-crosses and year after year we end up in many of the same places we have come to know since our Pan American dreams went t**s up in 2020. It’s the gentle taps on the shoulder that keep me addicted to this lifestyle, where anything is possible on any day and we have friends, or friends of friends, almost everywhere we could imagine traveling.)

11/01/2026

Day 38 of 150 The Story of Our Life On the Road
4/6/25 Lindsay Behind The Wheel

Since we hit the road on March 28, 2018, we have traveled tens of thousands of miles across the North American continent. We hit our first ten thousand miles in the Canadian Rockies on our way to Deadhorse, Alaska at the top of the world.

Somewhere after that, I stopped keeping track of the miles. We just drove, sometimes crossing the US multiple times in a year. More recently, we find ourselves driving 2,000 miles at a time as we travel to/from our seasonal work in the Black Hills of South Dakota.

Of all of the miles we've driven, Lindsay has about 60 of them notched in her belt. Yeah, that's not very many at all, considering her name is on the truck registration!

She drove approximately 2 miles in Hyder, Alaska, when I went long-line fishing for halibut one day in 2018. And she tacked on another 15 miles or so in Nevada when I was concerned (justifiably so) that I had COVID in 2021.

This is Lindsay driving the first of 60 or so miles in our Ford F350 pulling our Alliance RV 23ML fifth wheel trailer. At just under 28 feet long, the trailer is as short as they come for 5th wheels. There's no tailswing to worry about, and when you get up to speed, you don't even know the trailer is there.

I will always do all of the driving in Baja, where the roads are incredibly narrow, the shoulders (if they exist) are unforgiving and semi-trucks cause even the best drivers to pucker up. But once we return to the US after leading our Baja caravans, Lindsay is free to take the wheel and drive.

I have to admit, driving our various RVs (F250 Flatbed Truck Camper, E450 Class C Motorhome) is as natural to me as breathing. What is not natural is sitting in the passenger seat.

But I'm learning to let Lindsay enjoy the way the vibrations of the road thump rhythmically as they become a part of you as you put one mile after the other behind you, heading toward another chapter in such an adventurous life.

[This is one story, told in 1,000 words of a photo, that relates our call to wander, in no particular order.)

Called To Wander

15/03/2026

10/03/2026

25/01/2026

20/01/2026

19/01/2026

18/01/2026

17/01/2026

13/01/2026

11/01/2026

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