I love sharing our travels, but I should probably admit that life on the road is not always quite as glamorous as I may make it look. Case in point: Until this morning, I had not washed my hair in 10 days.

Now, I have taken what we affectionately call “boat showers,” but when you’re traveling, boondocking, dry camping, dealing with full holding tanks or empty freshwater tanks, sometimes you just roll with it. Ten days without washing my hair honestly didn’t seem like that big of a deal, until I stopped and thought about exactly what had happened to my hair during those 10 days.

It started at Katmai National Park, where I was introduced to these wicked little creatures called white sock flies. These things make a Florida mosquito look like child’s play. Mosquitoes politely poke you with their little proboscis. White sock flies apparently prefer a more direct approach. They basically cut you open with tiny razor-like mouths and drink the blood.

And for some reason, they loved my hairline. So, naturally, I smashed a few of them into my hair. Add a little blood, dead bugs, bug spray and the various essential oils I was continuously spraying on myself in a desperate attempt to keep them away. And that was just the beginning.

Next, we boondocked at a festival where I decided to put blue washout dye in my hair because, well, it was a festival. The festival was also dusty, dirty and windy, so we can add a nice layer of Alaska dirt to the mixture. Then yesterday, we went halibut fishing, which meant we could add saltwater, fish and probably a little fish gut residue to my increasingly impressive hair concoction.

And then came the grand finale.

I got seasick. Really seasick. But I was also in the middle of reeling in a halibut, and there was absolutely NO WAY I was handing that rod to someone else after doing all that work. So, there I was, reeling in my monster halibut while simultaneously “chumming the water.”

Translation: puking into the wind. Still reeling. Because priorities.

After fishing, we finally arrived at a campground with hookups, and I thought, “This is it. Tonight I finally wash my hair.” Except the electrical system at our campsite wasn’t working, so we couldn’t stay in our spot. By the time we found another campground, got settled and dealt with everything that comes with moving the Airstream yet again, I was exhausted.

I went to bed.

At that point, I’m fairly certain I had developed an entire functioning biosphere in my hair. Dead Alaskan bugs. Blood. Bug spray. Essential oils. Blue festival hair dye. Dust. Dirt. Wind. Saltwater. Fish guts. And quite possibly a little halibut-fishing vomit.

All living together in perfect harmony.

The good news is that I finally washed my hair this morning. And let me tell you… it was glorious.

So yes, I will continue posting the beautiful mountains, incredible wildlife, spectacular sunsets and amazing adventures. But just know that somewhere behind those pictures is a woman who may or may not have washed her hair in 10 days.

The struggle is real. 😂