Alto Posts

Happy 6th birthday, Breeze! Woohoo!

[Read more…] about Six Years in an Alto: Part 1

This is the third time in five years I’ve spent part of the winter in New Mexico, and it’s been – by far – the coldest one yet. I’m not alone in thinking this, though. My fellow campers have said much the same thing in our discussions the past week about how we fared in the cold. And by cold, I mean 15F (-9F) four nights running. Yikes… How did my Alto do?

[Read more…] about Cold Surprise in New Mexico

Warning: This is most likely a post that only battery nerds will love.

In the Alto groups on Facebook, there are long-running discussions about battery usage, especially when it comes to the 12v fridge vs. the propane/120v fridge. I spent four nights dry camping (no electric or water hookups) at Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore and tracked my battery usage using a Victron battery monitor. Let’s walk through the four days of no electric hookups, see what the solar panels contributed to the effort, and then see how the battery recharged when I got to a powered site.

Day 1: Fully Charged!

[Read more…] about Battery Usage: 2021 Snapshot

Along with the sightseeing is a constant need to pay attention to the little things about my Alto trailer. A loose screw, a funny noise, or, this week, the smell of propane. Never a good sign when you smell propane, but at least I smelled it outside the Alto, and not inside. I quickly ascertained that the leak was somewhere in the regulator bolted to the battery box. A quick Google search showed RV regulators can last 10 years or so, but that’s assuming you’re not a full-timer. In five years of constant use, it’s seen 42 states and more than 50,000 miles of towing, so maybe it was a bit overdue for retirement.

[Read more…] about Fix-it Time: Propane Regulator

Wow. If you’d told me five years ago all that would happen between the day I picked up my Alto (May 2, 2016) till now, I wouldn’t have believed you. I honestly didn’t know what I was getting into back then, and I didn’t have many expectations of how things would go. I just knew I was going to live in a little trailer and drive around a lot.

In the Beginning…

This photo was taken about a minute after my very first tow ever (like in my whole life!), where I drove from pickup at Safari Condo to my very first campground in Levis, Quebec, Canada. (And I’m writing this post at another KOA, in Virginia. I don’t stay at them much, but in a pinch, they do nicely.)

[Read more…] about Five Years a Vagabond

Three years and 366 days ago, I saw this graphic on my phone:

Yep, four years ago today, I met my shiny new Safari Condo Alto F1743, production number 821. I had never towed a thing, never done any RV camping, and had absolutely no idea what I was in for. But I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I love my trailer and (yes, Yvette) I love my vagabond life.

My first year of Alto ownership was a steep learning curve. Dumping tanks was the easiest thing, learning to back up with a left/right learning disability was the hardest. The second year was the 12 months where everything seemed to break: two phones, two windshields, one tire, and one left hand. I was happy to see that year end. Third year, I was hitting my rhythm: longer stays in places, and then a few months wintering in Florida to recharge. The fourth year? Started great, loved Vancouver Island and getting back to the west coast, but the last three months I could have done without.

In these four years, Breeze has traveled over 44,000 miles and stopped at almost 350 places overnight, from state parks to RV parks to driveways, KOAs, and one really cozy side yard.  We’ve seen 41 of the 48 continental US states and a handful of Canadian provinces (although, honestly, I feel like we barely scratched the surface of any of those provinces!). Breeze said farewell to her first sibling, Bella (a 2015 Subaru Outback 3.6R), and hello to her new one, Luna (a 2019 Honda Ridgeline SE). We’re still waiting to actually hookup Luna to Breeze. I’m hopeful it will happen sometime in 2020.

The first two years, I didn’t make many changes to my Alto, as Breeze and I were getting to know each other. The last two years, though, I got serious about making the Alto my own, fit for a full-time vagabond.

Interior

• Replaced grey table with concrete/white table from Safari Condo
• Removed bathroom door, replaced with curtain.
• Lagun table mount
• Replaced the original cushion covers with new blue fabric after 3.5 years.
• Replaced fridge vent fan after 3.5 years
• Dawn sink, cutting board cover, and Kohler bar faucet
• Removed grey flooring and replaced with stick-on light gray tiles

Exterior

• Two 17-pound viking tanks on tongue
• Longer dump hose mounted on tongue
• BFW replaced under warranty after 2 years
• Second keder rail added after 2 years (very handy for aluminet to shade the fridge)

Electrical

• Trimetric battery monitor
• Progressive surge protector (interior installation)
• Battleborn Lithium-Ion battery
• Victron solar controller with bluetooth/phone connectivity
• Replaced rearview camera after 3 years due to water leaks in rainy weather

I’d be hard-pressed to pick my favorite mods. Each change I made was to make things easier or more useful. As a full-timer, I use my trailer every day, so I would expect some of these mods wouldn’t appeal to most Alto owners, but they work for me. That deep, wide Dawn sink? I love it after four years of trying to put dishes into the smaller, oddly-shaped sink and worrying about the faucet coming loose and giving me an impromptu shower. Was it a lot of work? Oh, yeah. Next time, I’d pay a plumber to do it! But now that it’s done, and I know how my plumbing works, I’m really happy with it.

When I started this wandering life, I never thought a pandemic would stop me in my tracks. But here we are. I’m sheltering in place in my Alto, reading, writing, and quilting the days away. The new hitch sits in the grass nearby, waiting for first use. A map of the southern states is pinned to the corkboard on the cupboard door, with pins marking a tentative path up the coast and then inland to the Blue Ridge and cooler weather. Here’s hoping the 365 days ahead bring us all pandemic relief, maybe a vaccine, and, if it feels safe, some travels on roads old and new for Luna, Breeze, and me.

---

They call me the breeze
I keep blowin’ down the road.

J.J. Cale

(For my absolute favorite version of this song, go to 19:45 in this video.)

Note: This is one of those posts that probably only interest Alto owners or owners of small trailers that heat up in the sun like a tin can. On the other hand, if you are sweltering through a fiery hot summer, you might enjoy the machinations of a fellow sufferer, especially one who insists on living in a tin can. 

Most of the year in the US, excluding the sweltering months of July and August, my trailer looks like this: door and windows open, fan going to keep things cool inside. 

If I’m stopped for more than a few days, I’ll put up the awning if it keeps the sun off the door side in the morning or afternoon. And if the sun tries to slide in the side, I might put up one of my aluminet cloths to block it out, especially if it’s shining right where I want to sit outside and read.

That looks positively pastoral, doesn’t it? Cool, inviting, all it needs is a glass of sweet tea on the table to complete the picture of a beautiful summer’s day at the campground.

OK, let’s get real about summer. Let’s talk about that that totally draining, super-hot, dog-days-of-summer heat. In retrospect, traveling across the midwest and hanging out in the high plains for July may not have been the brightest travel itinerary I ever created. Staying reasonably cool feels like a losing battle when the outside temperatures are 95F. The Alto’s air conditioning unit needs all the help it can get to keep the inside temps even close to 80F.

Here’s how I’ve been managing the heat this summer. 

1. Hookups. Always. If the overnight temps are above 70F, then I go for hookups, which means I’ve been living with hookups and A/C for the last several weeks. 
2. If it’s going to be blazing hot (and I consider anything over 85F to be blazing hot when it comes to keeping the Alto cool), I start the A/C unit early. It’s way easier to keep the Alto cooler than outside if I start when the temperature differential outside:inside is 80:75 than if it’s 95:105. Yes, the Alto can get to 105 or even 114F (my personal record) when you’re towing in hot sun all day and can’t run the A/C. The second I stop, I plug in and start the A/C before I even unhitch. It can, and did, take 3-4 hours and a setting sun to get the Alto from 105F to 80F last week in the middle of a Denver heat wave (outside temps were 95-98F that day). 

3. Liberal use of Aluminet cloth is a strategic win, especially when the sun is beating down on the fridge side of the Alto. See that little door on the left? The fridge is to the right of it. The more sun that wall of the Alto gets, the harder the fridge behind that wall has to work. When the Alto is 105F inside, the fridge can’t keep up and its internal temp goes up to 40-45F. With the Aluminet in place, I can usually keep the fridge’s internal temp down to 32-35F. Much better for food and freezer.

I also have a second Aluminet cloth that can cover the back of the Alto. I hang it with two outdoor command hooks but you could also use suction hooks. Just put it as high as you can get on the roof and let it drape over the back of the Alto. 

Notes:

• • I had a keder rail installed on the non-door side of the Alto last summer when I was up at Safari Condo’s service center. 
  • I cut a 12 foot x 8 foot Aluminet cloth to the shape of the Alto roofline, and then had a sailmaker (who had a heavy-duty sewing machine) sew some keder rope to the Aluminet. I can actually put it on either side of the Alto since I now have keder rails on both sides. Sometimes I do put it on the door side when it’s sunny but windy and the awning might be at risk. 
  • I use bungee cords with balls attached to secure the awning so it won’t slip off if the wind picks up. It’s light enough that it will slide right off the keder rail (and it has). You can see my super-serious securing method in the photo above. 

4. The most recent item in my bag of “beat the sun” tricks is a rectangular coolaroo shade I picked up at Costco last month (thanks, Bonnie!). It comes with long pieces of plastic twine attached to each corner. With help from a fellow camper/heat-hater, I was able to walk it over the top of the roof (dodging the solar connectors and then humping it over the fan cover) and tie it down front and back. Since hookups mean I don’t need the solar panels, there’s no harm in covering them up. And there is a world of win in covering up those long black strips of heat absorbtion. Before the coolaroo was in place, the ceiling inside the Alto was almost too hot to touch at noon on a brutally sunny and hot day. After it was in place, the ceiling definitely felt cooler. I may not use the coolaroo a lot, but it came in very handy last weekend.

5. A magneshade for the big front window (BFW). This was the first heat-fighting tool I got (thanks, Judy!) Since the BFW is the largest surface on the front wall of the Alto, it’s also the biggest heat absorber. On a hot day, sitting on the front settee inside next to the BFW can be miserable (this is where I work and I kind of like to not be miserable when I work). The magneshade keeps the window cooler and ergo, keeps me cooler inside the Alto. It’s easy to put on and take off; they provide a collapsable pole for that purpose. 

The image above shows all these tools in one shot: aluminet, coolaroo, and magneshade, with that yellow power cord representing the air conditioning that is going full blast. 

Sources

• Aluminet: I have two cloths: one is 7×10 for the side cloth and for the back/front cloth, I ordered a 7×6 cloth. Both came from Cool Puppy on Amazon (click on the Cool Puppy text for the link), which creates them in the US. 
• Keder rope material: I bought mine from Sailrite.com for $1.45 USD per foot. I bought “Keder Awning Rope Black 5/16-inch” according to my order form.
• Coolaroo cover: I got mine at Costco, but you can probably find it elsewhere too. Just be sure to get a rectangular one, not the sail-shaped, three-sided coolaroo. This link at Amazon is like what I bought, only mine is light grey: https://amzn.to/2TaHrdB
• Magneshade: Check them out at magneshade.com/. You will need to call or email them to order a BFW shade. They are easy to work with and the orders are shipped quickly and with everything you need to install it. And yes, one person can install it if you use duct tape to hold things in place while you’re placing the magnets (thanks, Linda, for that tip).

---

Like a welcome summer rain, humor may suddenly cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.

Langston Hughes

A little over four years ago, I put money down on a lightweight trailer. I had the crazy idea to quit my full-time job and wander around the country. I was burned out and in serious need of a life reboot.

Three years ago, on May 2, I picked up that trailer, an Alto 1743 hand-made by Safari Condo. I’d never towed a thing, didn’t really get how the wide mirrors worked, and I definitely couldn’t back that thing up. But my mother had raised me to think I could do anything I put my mind to, so I had watched videos, asked questions in Facebook groups, and slowly put together a plan. The acid test, though, was that first drive out of the showroom parking lot and a mile down the road to the KOA, my first ever time camping in an RV of any kind. That’s my first stop in the cover photo at the top and while you can’t see the sweat stains on the seat, trust me, they were there. That was the longest mile ever.

I drove back to Seattle and finished out my job commitments while moving from campground to campground in the Seattle area. I figured out how to live in a tiny trailer, how to get internet and then how to get better internet, and how to stay in touch with friends while being completely mobile.

So what have I learned in three years that I didn’t already know in two years or one year of the vagabond life? Probably not that much, as it turns out.

Thing #1: I go slower and stay longer at places now, and I make more effort to meet up with friends and camp with them. 200 miles in a day is a lot for me now, and, with the exception of making a specific date, I tend to stay 4-5 nights minimum at each stop.

Thing #2: No one notices how long it takes me to back up into a site on a bad day. Or a good day. It’s just not that interesting. Took a lot of pressure of myself when I realized that fact.

Thing #3: When camping in the south after April 1st, you will be running the A/C so get a site with electricity. You can thank me later. You will also become familiar with tornado warnings and thunderstorm watches. Trust me, though, the South is worth all the weather drama.

I’m starting year 4 and I’m ready for it. Head cold, hot weather? No sweat. Broken hand, flat tire? Been there, done that. I’ve learned I can deal with whatever comes my way. As my dear friend told me when I was panicking that first year, “You got this.” Yes, I do.

---

Felt so good like anything was possible
I hit cruise control and rubbed my eyes…

Yeah, runnin’ down a dream
Never would come to me
Workin’ on a mystery
Goin’ wherever it leads
I’m runnin’ down a dream

Tom Petty

When I remember the very nervous and pretty clueless me that picked up that Alto 1743 trailer one thousand days ago from the Safari Condo showroom in Quebec, I really feel for her.

I had never towed anything before, and despite much advice to try it first with a rental trailer or something from U-Haul, I didn’t do that. I was committed to this “full-timing in a trailer” thing, and I figured if I tried another trailer and it sucked, then I would lose my nerve entirely and I didn’t have a Plan B for that possibility. I’d work out this trailer thing, bit by bit, that’s what I thought. Except for one thing I hadn’t quite realized till the trailer was attached to the back of my Subaru: the learning curve is short, but steep. Either you know how to hitch up and tow and unhitch, or you don’t. Long story short: I didn’t know, but I did learn. Quickly enough to get me from Quebec to Seattle without major damage.

Sure, I’ve mistakes in these 1000 days. When I arrived back in Seattle, I used the caravan mover (remote) to back the trailer into my friends’ driveway. I disengaged the little metal wheels and as we were talking, my friend oh-so-casually leaned against the trailer and suggested I might want to chock the trailer. Oops!

And my first disastrous attempt at backing up knocked the hitch a bit offsides, leaving me so forlorn and hopeless that I spent the evening crying in my trailer, wondering just what hell I had gotten myself into.

If I could go back in time, I’d tell that 2016 version of me one thing: RELAX. It’s really not that hard. Hitching and unhitching is basically a logical series of steps. When problems happen, solutions can be found. When mistakes are made, they can be fixed. Sometimes they cost a lot, but they can be fixed. (I now know how much it costs to replace a strut on the trailer frame after you run over your Caravan Mover wheels.) I’ve been learning how to embrace imperfection and slowly release the death grip of needing to control things. I may never be the most spontaneous person on the road, but I’m aiming to be one of the more relaxed ones. It’s a process.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t that fearful about traveling solo. I’d traveled so much of the world by myself that solo travel is normal to me. I did sometimes worry that breaking an ankle or a leg might be disastrous, never thinking that breaking a finger would actually be harder to deal with. But deal with it I did, getting a cast put on in one state and getting it cut off in another and figuring out how to drive one-handed and do all the other trailer stuff one-handed, too. Except for changing a blown-out tire. That one, I called roadside assistance.

Becoming a full-time vagabond in 2016 was actually the combination of two major changes: buying the Alto trailer and retiring from full-time work. It was definitely a huge leap: from the security of a well-furnished apartment (with a really nice bathroom) to a tiny trailer, and from a life full of work travel, commitments, and obligations to a life where the only thing I had to do was move campsites every week or so. I didn’t miss the apartment (well, maybe the bathtub just a bit) but I did I miss the feeling of accomplishment that work had given me over the years. I’ve been making my own projects: photography, history, geology, whatever strikes my fancy. These projects are actually fun: I don’t have to make project proposals or get buy-in from stakeholders and if I don’t like a project, I just quit working on it.

One question I get a lot is how long do I think I’ll be doing this, and the honest answer is I have no idea. I’ve never been one to make long-range plans. I never did it when I was working, either. The longest I’ve ever planned ahead was the two years between deciding to buy a trailer and retire and actually getting out on the road. I may do this vagabond thing forever or I might fall in love with someplace and settle down there next year. Right now, I love the flexibility of having both those options open to me.

My vagabond life is a work in progress. It fits me. It may not fit anyone else, but it definitely fits me.