The first 7000.
In the books.
7000 miles, 7000 lessons, or so it seems.
Lesson #1... Don't EVER leave the cat again!!
(Other than the weeks of Burning Man and Fest because pets aren't
allowed and it's a dangerous environment for The Dude especially)
I'm almost glad to be back here at my house having gained some
insight into what it will take to live out on the road. As with most
things I venture into, I tried to read and prepare as much as
possible, but again as with most things I struggled with some MAJOR
growing pains on the maiden voyage / shakedown cruise. My timetable
was way too short and things got a little too out of control but all
in all, what a great first trip it was!
It will be nice to be able to pull everything out and start over
putting things away now that I've spent a couple of months in the
space and have an inkling of an idea how things should work, what I
need all the time vs. what I need once a week, once a year to things
I just shouldn't have brought. For example, although my welder came
in handy at Burning Man to help fix a trailer hitch (I'm assuming my
shitty weld didn't hold because I never heard either way from the
trailer owner), it was a big bulky thing that was in the way almost
the entire time. I finally threw out the bamboo poles that held the
generator exhaust deflection tarp at Fest right before I left
California... After a month of their totally being in the way all the
time. Can't do stuff like that in such a small space.
One of the biggest lessons was water... Or more specifically,
coffee. Knowing what I know about the Vogue, I don't drink or even
cook with what comes out of the taps, triple filtered or not (And I
WAY over-sterilized the tanks). Because coffee for me is a social
experience I ended up making a shit ton and it severely impacted the
potable water supply at Burning Man. I think I'm going to have to
make specific 'coffee hours' at Fest and the burn because there were
times I had too much fun with the flow of people as I brewed them
cups and before I knew it half a day would fly by and the water
supply would be 2 gallons lighter.
Perhaps the greatest lesson I have learned as far as the Vogue
herself goes was imparted to me by the last mechanic who worked on
her in California, the one that identified and changed the fuel
filter that nobody else could find. “Don't over-think this
project.” Truer words have never been spoken. So far, everything
that has been wrong, has needed the simplest possible fix (removal of
the water bottle from the poop tank, changing the fuel filter, etc.)
but the route chosen to get there has consistently been the most
expensive and biggest possible project. This needs to stop.
K.I.S.S.
To plan or not to plan.
I choose to NOT PLAN!
I recently read on a Burning Man discussion something to the
effect of, “The less you plan, the less you are setting yourself up
for disappointment when you don't do them.” Along that line, I had
one actual plan going into the ride back here and that was deep fried
French Toast and home made Corned Beef Hash at a diner in Kansas City
I saw on tv at my sisters house in California. Got to KC and the
place had gone out of business. Stupid television. Stupid planning
stuff.
A short series of comments on facebook later, however, led to 3
amazing days in Chicago with some super cool people I met when we
camped together at Burning Man. That was a fantastic unplanned.
Speaking of Fantastic, Let's talk Moab. The only reason any of that
happened was because a guy standing in front of an information sign
overlooking the, “Scenic View” smoking a cigarette and nursing a
bad tooth noticed my Pennsylvania license plate or Phillies cap and
struck up a conversation. Thank you kind sir! It was truly
unreal... And by that I mean the most real thing I saw the entire
time. Peeling another layer off that onion, I was only on Highway 50
because a Burner I met at Fest told me it was the most beautiful road
in America. Same with taking the road I tookout of Moab back to the
highway, it was a backtracking pain in the butt and I lost my
daylight because I hiked the heck out of Dead Horse Point but the
pilot dude I met in the RV park with the toy hauler he'd just gotten
was pretty adamant about that being the way to get back to the
highway after riding it on his Harley. He was right of course. My
neck hurt like heck from craning it to see out the windshield and up
the rock cliffs to my left and right and in front of me and behind me
and holy moley donut shop!
So again, no plan is my plan. The best things happen when I just
fly by the seat of my pants.
Don't waste daylight.
Mornings are worth getting up before the sun.
I never thought there would come a day I'd be more comfortable
driving a 35' bus than I am driving my Jeep but that happened this
week too. It feels quite strange sitting in the Jeep and it's
incredibly weird how it feels like I'm sitting on the road.
So ultimately, what did I really learn on my first trip around the
country in an RV? I learned that all those years I thought living in
an RV would be the coolest thing ever... I was right.
Now that I had a small taste of it, I can see the goal clearly in
front of me, so working towards it has become much more of a
necessity rather than the esoteric concept it used to be. If I play
my cards right, I'm pretty sure I've laid the groundwork necessary to
be a full-time Rver. I just need to stay focused on the goal and
make sure my income generators are ready to go so I can go. I need
to look more into the workcamping scene and set up some places for
next year. I know, that goes against the making no plans concept
but, as with any lifestyle, there are job and financial
considerations and constraints. But when those constraints can come
in the form of hosting tours of a remote lighthouse on the Oregon
coast for a month, SIGN ME UP PLEASE!!!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Monday, October 14, 2013
Now that I have arrived in Colorado, I have something to say to
Utah.
I'M SORRY!
I don't know what to say other than that, but of course I will say more.
Much more.
I had no concept of what Utah was. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
In my imagination it was all about Mormons and weirdos and a stolen NBA team that should have left it's name behind when it moved because how much farther from reality could it get. And a couple of good quarterbacks. But other than that I didn't know didly squat about Utah and I looked down my nose at the state. I am sorry. I think I was too stressed out to notice much along Route 80 on the way out, I took a couple of pictures of salt on telephone poles as I drove across the dried up lake-bed but other than that I don't remember anything impressive.
Even with the two National Parks closed I was AMAZED by the natural beauty that is Utah. AMAZED!!!!
Now I'm no stranger to the desert, I spent a lot of time in Arizona when my sister lived there and this is the second leg of my second trip across the country, each on a different road through different states. But Route 50 across Utah was the first time I really started pulling over to the side of the road to take pictures other than absolutely having to stop and take a picture of Cadillac Ranch when I passed that on the first trip. And when I say pulling over, I mean sometimes only going a mile before the scene changed so much I had to stop again. Along Route 128 my neck started to Ache from craning it so far forward and trying to see up the canyon walls I was driving through.
Highway 50 was recommended to me by a Burner friend who took off in an RV several years ago. Said it was the most beautiful stretch of road in America, with my limited knowledge, I wholeheartedly agree. I bought a t-shirt at the first campground I stayed at that says, “I survived Nevada's Highway 50 America's Loneliest Road.” I knew I was in for something special on a road where, for hundreds of desolate miles, literally every other vehicle you see is an RV. At one of the “Scenic View” stops along Highway 50 there was a guy who asked me what part of Pennsylvania I was from (I was sporting a Phillies cap and the Vogue has PA plates). He's an antiques dealer from Quakertown and this was his 6th time circumnavigating the lower 48 (He's been to 45). He pulled out his atlas and I forget most of what he showed me but basically he said I had to take the turn off on 191 and head down to Moab. I have a knack for seeing the passion in people as they talk about things they love on a different level and I could tell I had no choice but to see the thing that made his eyes blaze when he spoke of it. Speaking of blaze, we watched a truck set his brakes on fire below us while we chatted. Now that the Vogue can crank up the hills, it's the descents that scare the shit outa me, especially after watching that. He waved to me as he was getting back on the highway when I was getting off at the next stop to buy myself an atlas. I have 3 GPSs and google maps on 3 devices, but there's just something about a paper map.
This is the view from where we were talking:
Along 191 things started to change. The landscape got redder and bigger and it started getting weird. By the time I got to the turn off I decided it was too late in the afternoon to try to drive the ~25 miles up the side road to see the closure signs on Canyonlands so I decided to press on to Moab. I pulled over at the first RV park a couple of miles outside of town and hunkered down for the night figuring I'd head out in the morning and see some stuff before getting back on 50. Four days later I reluctantly unplugged the RV knowing I needed to be on my way but Holy Freakin Moab! It will be a high priority to go back when Arches and Canyonlands are open and to spend more time seeing all of it. I went for a couple of good hikes and one decent bike ride, enough of a taste to make me need more.
The first day, I rode the bike path a few miles up 128 which runs along a windy skinny canyon the Colorado river cut leaving almost nothing but sheer rock walls hundreds of feet high. I thought I pulled the bus over a lot, I stopped the bike every ten feet to take a picture or three. Or twenty.
This is a massive hole way up a cliff:
If I told you how far away the ones with snow on them were, you wouldn't believe me.
The second day I woke up to a flat tire on the bike so I walked into town and had a look around. On the way back I took a little mountainbike path up the side of one of the rock cliffs, the views both near and far were spectacular. The way the wind and water has carved the rocks is just jaw droppingly beautiful. The way the plants grab onto whatever they can is downright amazing in and of it's self.
The next morning I unhooked the bus from it's moorings and headed out to Dead Horse Point State Park which overlooks Canyonlands. I did most of both of the hikes even though I didn't have anything but to completely worn out pairs of old shoes because I have just never seen anything like that in my life. I know I need to go back here. I don't know how long I will stay, it could be quite some time. I may even look into a campground hosting position for next year.
One of the many views of Canyonlands from Dead Horse Point:
I was 2000 feet above the Colorado here. I can't really put it into words, my mouth was just hanging open as I stood there dumbfounded.
After being in a place that averages ten inches of rain a year, it's been raining here since I got to Colorado.
I'M SORRY!
I don't know what to say other than that, but of course I will say more.
Much more.
I had no concept of what Utah was. None. Nada. Zip. Zilch.
In my imagination it was all about Mormons and weirdos and a stolen NBA team that should have left it's name behind when it moved because how much farther from reality could it get. And a couple of good quarterbacks. But other than that I didn't know didly squat about Utah and I looked down my nose at the state. I am sorry. I think I was too stressed out to notice much along Route 80 on the way out, I took a couple of pictures of salt on telephone poles as I drove across the dried up lake-bed but other than that I don't remember anything impressive.
Even with the two National Parks closed I was AMAZED by the natural beauty that is Utah. AMAZED!!!!
Now I'm no stranger to the desert, I spent a lot of time in Arizona when my sister lived there and this is the second leg of my second trip across the country, each on a different road through different states. But Route 50 across Utah was the first time I really started pulling over to the side of the road to take pictures other than absolutely having to stop and take a picture of Cadillac Ranch when I passed that on the first trip. And when I say pulling over, I mean sometimes only going a mile before the scene changed so much I had to stop again. Along Route 128 my neck started to Ache from craning it so far forward and trying to see up the canyon walls I was driving through.
Highway 50 was recommended to me by a Burner friend who took off in an RV several years ago. Said it was the most beautiful stretch of road in America, with my limited knowledge, I wholeheartedly agree. I bought a t-shirt at the first campground I stayed at that says, “I survived Nevada's Highway 50 America's Loneliest Road.” I knew I was in for something special on a road where, for hundreds of desolate miles, literally every other vehicle you see is an RV. At one of the “Scenic View” stops along Highway 50 there was a guy who asked me what part of Pennsylvania I was from (I was sporting a Phillies cap and the Vogue has PA plates). He's an antiques dealer from Quakertown and this was his 6th time circumnavigating the lower 48 (He's been to 45). He pulled out his atlas and I forget most of what he showed me but basically he said I had to take the turn off on 191 and head down to Moab. I have a knack for seeing the passion in people as they talk about things they love on a different level and I could tell I had no choice but to see the thing that made his eyes blaze when he spoke of it. Speaking of blaze, we watched a truck set his brakes on fire below us while we chatted. Now that the Vogue can crank up the hills, it's the descents that scare the shit outa me, especially after watching that. He waved to me as he was getting back on the highway when I was getting off at the next stop to buy myself an atlas. I have 3 GPSs and google maps on 3 devices, but there's just something about a paper map.
This is the view from where we were talking:
Along 191 things started to change. The landscape got redder and bigger and it started getting weird. By the time I got to the turn off I decided it was too late in the afternoon to try to drive the ~25 miles up the side road to see the closure signs on Canyonlands so I decided to press on to Moab. I pulled over at the first RV park a couple of miles outside of town and hunkered down for the night figuring I'd head out in the morning and see some stuff before getting back on 50. Four days later I reluctantly unplugged the RV knowing I needed to be on my way but Holy Freakin Moab! It will be a high priority to go back when Arches and Canyonlands are open and to spend more time seeing all of it. I went for a couple of good hikes and one decent bike ride, enough of a taste to make me need more.
The first day, I rode the bike path a few miles up 128 which runs along a windy skinny canyon the Colorado river cut leaving almost nothing but sheer rock walls hundreds of feet high. I thought I pulled the bus over a lot, I stopped the bike every ten feet to take a picture or three. Or twenty.
This is a massive hole way up a cliff:
If I told you how far away the ones with snow on them were, you wouldn't believe me.
The second day I woke up to a flat tire on the bike so I walked into town and had a look around. On the way back I took a little mountainbike path up the side of one of the rock cliffs, the views both near and far were spectacular. The way the wind and water has carved the rocks is just jaw droppingly beautiful. The way the plants grab onto whatever they can is downright amazing in and of it's self.
The next morning I unhooked the bus from it's moorings and headed out to Dead Horse Point State Park which overlooks Canyonlands. I did most of both of the hikes even though I didn't have anything but to completely worn out pairs of old shoes because I have just never seen anything like that in my life. I know I need to go back here. I don't know how long I will stay, it could be quite some time. I may even look into a campground hosting position for next year.
One of the many views of Canyonlands from Dead Horse Point:
I was 2000 feet above the Colorado here. I can't really put it into words, my mouth was just hanging open as I stood there dumbfounded.
After being in a place that averages ten inches of rain a year, it's been raining here since I got to Colorado.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Last day in California.
In stead of leaving like I planned to, I spent the day cleaning and straightening out the RV. I got tired of things flying around every time I move it. Just about everything is put away somewhere at this point, many things were just packed up and put in temporary locations, partly because I'm still carrying around all of Melissa's and my Burning Man stuff so there will be a lot of space freed up when all that's out and things start to find their permanent home. Ate lunch at the table today, haven't been able to do that since before Fest!
I should probably head back to the camping world I went to and return the shity GPS. Magellan. What a piece of crap! Unbelievably bad routing and it never gets the speed limit right for when to sound the alarm. Too bad the one with the "Spa" is out of the way, it could still use a good cleaning on the roof and underneath, the engine still needs to be washed as well. I'll try to find one along the way to get that done and the gennie serviced.
It's been an expensive month here in California, but it's been a great one. The Vogue seems to finally be running good, I saw lots of family, hung out with a burner, made a new friend and had what is probably California's best cheesesteak, which will only get better when they start to use the right rolls. I really wish I had gotten my shit together in time to not have to go back to Philly, it qwould be nice to stay here or head to Oregon to go host at a lighthouse (the call for volunteers with RV's went out) but this is the hand I was dealt and how I played it.
Mostly I'm just hoping for a MUCH less stressful drive across the mountains than I had last time, especially the Rockies! I want to stop and see some things this time too, I'm not going to try to do 700 or 800 miles a day like I did 2 of the last 3 times I drove across the country, the other was 2 drivers, 40 hours basically nonstop. The only thing I've ever really stopped to see on one of these trips was Cadillac Ranch and that was the very first time across. After talking to someone who has done it before, I'm going to take Rt. 50 and see something other than the interstate this time. 66 was way more interesting than the interstate that replaced it.
All I will need to do in the morning is make coffee, unplug the shore cord, and I'll be good to go. I like days like that. I'm not good at days with projects and putting stuff away and Then trying to hit the road. Now all I need to do is figure out where I'm going to go.
In stead of leaving like I planned to, I spent the day cleaning and straightening out the RV. I got tired of things flying around every time I move it. Just about everything is put away somewhere at this point, many things were just packed up and put in temporary locations, partly because I'm still carrying around all of Melissa's and my Burning Man stuff so there will be a lot of space freed up when all that's out and things start to find their permanent home. Ate lunch at the table today, haven't been able to do that since before Fest!
I should probably head back to the camping world I went to and return the shity GPS. Magellan. What a piece of crap! Unbelievably bad routing and it never gets the speed limit right for when to sound the alarm. Too bad the one with the "Spa" is out of the way, it could still use a good cleaning on the roof and underneath, the engine still needs to be washed as well. I'll try to find one along the way to get that done and the gennie serviced.
It's been an expensive month here in California, but it's been a great one. The Vogue seems to finally be running good, I saw lots of family, hung out with a burner, made a new friend and had what is probably California's best cheesesteak, which will only get better when they start to use the right rolls. I really wish I had gotten my shit together in time to not have to go back to Philly, it qwould be nice to stay here or head to Oregon to go host at a lighthouse (the call for volunteers with RV's went out) but this is the hand I was dealt and how I played it.
Mostly I'm just hoping for a MUCH less stressful drive across the mountains than I had last time, especially the Rockies! I want to stop and see some things this time too, I'm not going to try to do 700 or 800 miles a day like I did 2 of the last 3 times I drove across the country, the other was 2 drivers, 40 hours basically nonstop. The only thing I've ever really stopped to see on one of these trips was Cadillac Ranch and that was the very first time across. After talking to someone who has done it before, I'm going to take Rt. 50 and see something other than the interstate this time. 66 was way more interesting than the interstate that replaced it.
All I will need to do in the morning is make coffee, unplug the shore cord, and I'll be good to go. I like days like that. I'm not good at days with projects and putting stuff away and Then trying to hit the road. Now all I need to do is figure out where I'm going to go.
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