Alto Posts

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.

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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).

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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.

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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.

Seriously, a whole year! I picked up Breeze, my Alto 1743 trailer from Safari Condo, on May 2, 2016 and my life hasn’t been the same since that day.

I remember being nervous about if I had the right hitch and wiring, what tools I might need on a daily basis, and, biggest thing of all, how the hell to drive with a trailer on the back of my Subaru. When I showed up on May 2, the Safari Condo person, Denis, was training two new guys so we all learned a lot that day! And then suddenly, the training wheels were off, and it was just me and Bella and the Breeze. I drove the mile down to the KOA campground completely out of my depth and more than a little freaked out. But I made it.

Because the Alto was in Quebec, I had to drive it all the way back to Seattle. Despite a little hitch drama and the realization that backing up into a site was nigh onto impossible due to my left/right confusion (the formal name for this is dyscalculia), I managed to make it back to the left coast and by the time I hit Seattle, I knew this was the life for me.

Breeze has gone 12,000 miles in the last year, covering 2 Canadian provinces (Quebec and Ontario) and 12 US states (Michigan, Wisconsin, South Dakota, Wyoming, Idaho, Oregon, Washington, California, Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, and Colorado). We’ve stayed at 86 different campsites, averaging 7 different places a month.

I’ve spent a total of 337 out of 365 nights sleeping in my trailer (23 nights in 2016, all for business trips before I quit that gig, and then 5 nights in 2017), giving me a 92% “Nights in Trailer” score. (I am pretty sure I am the only one keeping score on this point.)

I’ve learned how to use propane, use up all the propane, and then how to get my tanks refilled. I’ve crawled under the Alto twice to put on pipe insulation: the first right after I got it when I was going to Yellowstone and snowy weather and then again just last week, when I was expecting below-freezing temperatures in Denver. I know how long my 15 gallons of fresh water can last me and that I can go just over a week before I have to make a date with the dump station. And, lastly, I have finally figured out how to back up into a campsite, after months of baby steps and parking lot practice sessions.

I didn’t know quite what to expect when I started out a year ago. I kind of knew it wouldn’t be all roses and perfume (especially the dump station part) but I didn’t know how much it would stretch me to be on my own so completely. I learned to reach out to friends and schedule regular phone chats to keep the friendships healthy, and I realized that I’d rather see family and friends than parks and monuments. I’ve had great adventures…

Seen amazing things…

And hung out with some really fun people…

Most of all, I’m learning to embrace the uncertainty and welcome the unexpected. Wake up to snow? Sure, why not. Go searching for cool geology stuff? I’m all over that.

I listen when locals suggest places to go because I’m never “from here” and rarely know more than where the cheapest gas and the closest Walmart are. One such tip led me to seeing huge flocks of sandhill cranes, which was a bucket list item I never expected to check off in Arizona, of all places.

As I look back over the last year, I am grateful to so many people for their support. My brother checks in at least once a week to see how I’m doing. My friends pick up the phone when I call and the long conversations we’ve had have helped me through everything from newbie fears to retirement blues. And the Altoiste group on Facebook has been a constant in this new life – I don’t know how I would have figured out stuff without them and they’ve supported my full-timing in so many ways. And I’ve made some good friends out of that group (so thank you, Alissa, one more time for such a wonderful idea).

Year Two starts today, and while I have some general plans mapped out, I truly have no idea what adventures are ahead, and I kind of like it that way. See you on the roads, my friends!

Related Link: Alto Review for Year One

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Well, some people might call it the Safari Condo factory, but I think of it as the Alto nursery, where all our trailer babies are made. It was really interesting to see the technologies and the construction techniques behind that Alto I now own. This place more than a factory, an assembly line of just some trailer – it’s passion for quality and it’s pride in their products.

This is my own experience of the factory, and I may have gotten some things wrong, or forgotten others after 10 months. The emotion I still feel when I look at these photos is joy – the people I met working on cushions, piping, wiring, aluminum, windows, and assembly all take the greatest of care in their work and they were happy to stop for a few moments and meet someone who would be using their creations. I was mostly introduced (in French) as owner 821, and it’s amazing how many people knew what that trailer was! The woman behind the service desk knew my cabinet and cushion choices the second she heard my Alto number!

So, how DO you make an Alto? It goes something like this…

First, the cushions and covers, the piping, and the wiring are assembled. While each Alto is different, the wiring harness is the same, allowing owners to add features later if they change their minds (like putting in a microwave or TV). The piping package is custom to each Alto, based on what water heater and other options are chosen by the owner.

Material for the Alto construction is selected from big rolls of aluminum, imported from the Netherlands. You can see the top roll is blue and the middle one is silver, the two colors you can choose for the outside of the Alto. The Alto exteriors are insulated with honeycomb stuff, so the team takes two aluminum pieces and then makes the insulated sides using a vacuum process.

Next step is to take that insulated piece, put it on this huge cutting table and then select the program to cut out the roof and sides. This jig table is a relatively new item for the team, as they used to cut the aluminum by hand!

After the cutting is done, you get something like this, the side wall of a 1743 model. The walls are all custom to the specific Alto being built. In this case, the owner has selected a propane/120v fridge, so the team cut two rectangles (one above the other) into the wall. The other holes are for window, a hatch, and various plugs.

The Alto is assembled in three stations. The first assembly station starts with the aluminum frame, attaches the tanks underneath, then the floor, and finally, the walls. This is all done by hand and uses the piping package created earlier (and shown earlier above). This photo is of an R-series Alto model.

At the second assembly station, the team builds out the interior of the Alto, adding cabinets, windows, and hatches, as well as the fridge and toilet. In R-series Alto, you see the kitchen cabinet (far left) and fridge opening next to it.

This is also the station where the wiring is laid where it needs to go. Look at all those wires! Again, it’s all done by hand. Real people build these Altos, one at a time.

In the third assembly station, the roof goes on and the big front window (if required) is installed. This is a F-1743 model being assembled. Look closely and you can see the earlier stations ahead of it; they are all in a row so that the Alto just moves down the line as it gets progressively closer to completion.

That blue overhead crane you see in this photo is used to lift up the roof and put it in place. You can also see the air-conditioning/heat pump being installed by a worker. And off to the right is an R-series model roof at the roof/window assembly station.

When the Alto is all assembled, one of the quality assurance tests is to “soak it” three times. They pour water all over it to simulate heavy rain, and then go inside and look for leaks everywhere. (When I was sitting in heavy downpours in the fall of 2016, I remembered this and sent a mental “thank you” to everyone who soak-tested my Alto!)

And the final step: delivery to the happy owner!

Thanks to Dominique Nadeau for taking the time to show me the factory and answer my questions about making Altos. And special thanks to Daniel Nadeau, who I met as he was walking through the factory – what a thrill to meet the designer of the Alto!

For more information on the Alto by Safari Condo, you can visit their website. And since they  are hip to social media, they have a Facebook page and they also have used Virtual Reality on Google Maps where you can walk around their Quebec showroom and even go inside the models for a 360-degree view.

(Note: I am not paid by Safari Condo, nor do I receive any remuneration from them for posting about their trailers. I just love mine and want to share my enthusiasm with others.)