How national parks taught us the art of slow travel

I found the breath I had been holding once we pulled into the Mesa Verde National Park campsite. The road in, while beautiful, was narrow with a sharp drop-off — two things you don’t enjoy when hauling an RV. Stretching as we got out of the car, my husband Kurtis and I began the slow, steady pace of making camp: pull out the slide and the sunshade, hook up the water and electric, walk and feed the dog.

We were well into this process when it became clear we were missing the tool that helps newbie RV-ers like us secure the stabilizers that attach the RV to the truck. And we knew exactly where this necessary tool was sitting at our last campsite hours away. We left it because we skipped our usual step of doing a final walkabout.

As a result, we had to humbly Google search the tool we needed (and didn’t have a name for) then drive an hour to a supply store in Durango, Colorado, and back. It was the reminder we needed: We aren’t in a hurry.

This was our mantra as we spent the summer driving across the country to see as many National Parks as possible. We picked it up during our research from the Keep Your Daydream (KYD) YouTube channel, our favorite influencers because of their great destination reviews and practical advice. In almost every episode they say, “Don’t be in a hurry,” whether they are referring to RV procedures or taking in the view.

This mantra shaped how we explore national parks to the point where our visits became a contemplative practice. We learned to avoid the crowds often accompanying national park destinations, going to sites that are either not popular or very remote or both. When we visited the popular places, we found that adjusting our attitude and intention brought elements of spirituality into our park visits.

For instance, we arrived at the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone National Park around 5 p.m. (the park starts to empty out around dinnertime), and there were only a few other people at the popular waterfall view. We found a small bench just off to the side of the main viewing area that we had all to ourselves. We sat in silence for several minutes taking in the view and consenting to God’s presence and action within our hearts. We were interrupted by someone who said, “Give me your camera. You are going to want this picture.”

In true national park style, I handed my iPhone to a stranger and returned to the view. This picture is now framed in our living room and reminds us to sit quietly and enjoy the view. The purpose of sitting in silence in nature is not to attract strangers with a good eye for photography. The purpose is to allow God to transform us into compassionate people.

I have a national park book that prompts me to visit certain places and collect stamps at the ranger station marking my presence. During our trip, we stopped at a remote ranger station, and I went inside with my book and to ask about how to get to the Roosevelt Arch. I found out that we had indeed missed our turn.

There was a woman in the ranger station who, upon hearing me, looked up and said, “We made the same mistake.” As we chatted, she shared she was waiting for a park ranger to come with jumper cables. I told her we had cables, and we could give her a jump. She resisted interrupting our vacation, but I responded with our mantra, “We aren’t in a hurry.”

“We aren’t in a hurry.”

Kurtis got the truck and cables into position with her husband. I chatted with her and her adult daughter and grandchildren about their travels. When the ranger arrived, she was greeted by the grandchildren who had junior ranger books and lots of questions. She took the time to answer their questions to everyone’s delight and signed their books. Unable to start their car, we let the park ranger take over. Our new friends thanked us repeatedly for taking time out of our trip to help them. When we got back into our truck, we marveled that slowing down for 20 minutes really could put more goodness and kindness into the world. And maybe, we should never be in a hurry.