I remember the night I learned the true meaning of “insurance.”
I was parked along the edge of a quiet lake in Utah. The sky was pink and gold, the way it gets right before the sun dips behind the canyon walls. I had just made dinner — pasta with too much garlic — and my awning was open, shading my little outdoor table. I felt safe, grounded, and free in that way only travelers understand.
Then the wind came.
Not a gentle breeze.
Not a cool, desert night wind.
I mean the kind of wind that speaks its own language — sharp, fast, and wild.
Before I even registered what was happening, my awning twisted upward like it wanted to fly away. I ran outside barefoot, trying to grab it, hold it, reason with it — like the wind cares. In seconds, the metal arms bent backwards, the fabric ripped, and the structure twisted into something unrecognizable.
My home didn’t feel safe anymore, It felt breakable and so did I.
Because when your home has wheels,
After the Storm
The next morning I sat by the lake, watching the sun move across the water, coffee in hand, blanket wrapped around my shoulders. The awning leaned like a wounded bird beside the caravan.
That’s when the realization hit me:
I had insured my car but not my caravan not the place where I sleep not the place I cry, cook, dream, heal, and breathe.
I thought insurance was bureaucracy. Something boring. Something for people who worry too much.
I was wrong insurance isn’t about fear, insurance is about protecting the life you fought hard to build.
The Lesson the Wind Taught Me
Caravans aren’t add-ons they’re homes on wheels.
Insuring only your car is like locking the door but leaving the windows wide open. The road is beautiful, but it’s also unpredictable:
- Sudden storms
- Falling branches
- Breakdowns in the middle of nowhere
- Curious raccoons with criminal mindsets
- And yes — desert winds with no mercy
I didn’t lose the caravan that night but I did lose the illusion that freedom means ignoring reality freedom means taking care of what allows you to stay free.
What I Changed After That
I went online, compared different policies, and chose one that covered:
- Weather damage (because… wind)
- Personal belongings inside (laptop, camera, clothes, my kitchen on wheels)
- Roadside towing anywhere (non-negotiable)
- 24/7 support because breakdowns do not respect business hours
I didn’t choose the cheapest.
I chose the one that made me feel safe enough to sleep deeply again.
And that changed everything.
Travel Feels Different When You’re Protected
Now, when I park somewhere wild — near cliffs, beaches, deserts, forests — I don’t think:
“What if something goes wrong?”
I think:
“What a blessing it is to live like this.”
Insurance didn’t take away my spontaneity.
It gave me more of it.
It gave me permission to:
- Drive toward storms instead of away from them
- Stay longer in places that feel like home
- Take detours just because they look beautiful
- Trust the road again
It gave me back my peace.
To Anyone Traveling or Dreaming of It
Take care of your freedom.
Protect your tiny moving universe.
Your bed, your stove, your morning sunlight, your memories.
Because when your home has wheels,
peace of mind is the real engine.
The wind will always come.
Just make sure you’re ready when it does.
— Elena