New friendship speeds a son’s journey
Mikah Meyer’s quest: Visit 411 U.S. parks in memory of his father
“It was cool for me to understand that he got it. This was more than just a sale.” Mikah Meyer, on purchasing a van from Brett Austin
From his late father, he had learned not to delay his dreams, so Mikah Meyer, $18,000 short and 50 miles from the man with the van, got into his car and headed for Randallstown.
He had found Brett Austin on Craigslist in March, had told him about his plans to visit every U.S. national park, a three-year journey inspired by the memory of Larry Meyer, who died more than a decade earlier. Austin had given him the Ram ProMaster’s specs ( just perfect) and price ( just too much). He included in his reply a small note: “I did the exact same trip when I lost my wife and son.”
When they met, they got into the van. It was perfect. The two men, perfect strangers, talked not about where they differed on its cost but about their profound similarities — faith and family, sorrow and travel. For 30 minutes they held off on discussing what had brought them together.
“I’ve never really experienced God in this sort of way,” said Meyer, 30, of North Bethesda. “Whenever I pray about something, it always seems like the answer comes years down the road. And this was something where I was like, ‘I need a sign. I have no clue what I’m doing.’ And this was about as clear as I felt I was going to get.”
When Meyer sets out on his historic cross-country trip in seven days, in a van purchased from Austin, there will be an odd kind of symmetry. Austin’s wife, Amanda, succumbed to cancer in August 2013. His son, Matthew, died five months before, starting a period of grief, mourning and healing now nearly 1,200 days long. Meyer’s tour of 411 National Park Service sites — he would become the youngest person to visit them all — is scheduled to take 1,116 days.
Meyer will have over three years to connect in spirit with the father with whom he never got to share a road trip, just as Austin has had over three years to accept the loss of loved ones he believes he’ll see again one day.
Family and friends were always there in Austin’s times of need, comforting him, consoling him, but there came a moment, the Federal Hill resident said, “when I needed some quiet time to just get out there and think back.” He spent a month on a boat in the Chesapeake Bay. After the holidays in 2013, in late February the following year, he headed west.
His wife loved trees. They were going to see the redwoods in Northern California. All she wanted for the trip, Austin said, was a bathtub in their recreational vehicle, so he found one. She was gone before they could leave.
He had wanted to sell the RV. His brother convinced him not to. Make the trek yourself, he urged Austin, and Austin did. His son had always liked Amarillo, so he scattered Matthew’s ashes in the Texas city. Amanda’s were spread among the redwoods. Austin kept going — from the Southwest to the canyons of Moab, Utah, that left him speechless, to California, on through the snowcapped mountains of the Pacific Northwest “that basically look untouched,” and back home again, 16,000 miles over three-and-a-half months.
“You always have these questions: Why did this happen?” said Austin, 56. “I had a strong faith, and I know I’ll see them again, but the trip was so therapeutic. You see God in nature and the perfection of what we have in our own country here in these parks that are preserved for everyone to see.”
He loved the RV so much that when he returned, he didn’t want to sell it. He hadn’t expected to feel that way.
But then, he didn’t think he’d find a willing buyer for the ProMaster, at least not early on. The van was listed for “a while,” he said, before he got a call. Meyer was behind schedule and van-less, and even after their meeting in Randallstown, he could not bargain the price down far enough from its $28,000 listing.
Austin called several days later with a better offer. It wasn’t good enough. Meyer was freaking out. “There was one point where we talked on the phone and I basically said to him, ‘We need to figure this out today or tomorrow or I need to go get another van, like, yesterday,’ ” he recalled. On March 17, the day after Meyer’s 30th birthday, he agreed to drive up to Baltimore County again and meet Austin’s business partners at Unwined Candles, including founder Dave Neith.
Together, they brainstormed. Ideas were proposed and dismissed. At last, they reached an agreement beneficial to both sides: Meyer would pay $10,000 up front for the van. In exchange, Unwined Candles would get promotional wrapping on what Meyer has named “Vanny McVanface,” with 40 percent of the purchase price of each candle bought using a special code going toward paying off Meyer’s balance.
“It was cool for me to understand that he got it,” said Meyer, who is leaving his job as the director of residential programming at a North Bethesda prep school and his position in the Washington National Cathedral’s professional choir. “This was more than just a sale.”
The van is close to road readiness. There’s a queen-size platform bed, rows of storage underneath, a kitchenette with a refrigerator, a battery station for solar panels atop the roof, a desk for blogging, even some Unwined Candles products and brochures.
When the solar panels are installed, the shelves are put together and the wood is polished, Meyer will go to church. His sister has asked that the pastor at Washington’s Luther Place Memorial Church bless his trip before he hits the open road. The Rev. Karen Brau plans to be all-inclusive: Mikah, his boyfriend (also making the trip) and the van will receive blessings.
The date of departure is coincidental, Meyer says. It is June 19. Father’s Day.