WynnWorlds

Solo vagabond fulltiming in a Safari Condo Alto trailer

Trailer Life

Equipment Review: Camping Chairs

Equipment Review: Camping Chairs

| 17 Comments

Sit back, relax, and prepare to be amused by the saga of finding the perfect camp chair. It’s been a four year saga and I’m still looking, so the search may continue for as long as I’m a vagabond. I offer  this equipment review of camp chairs in hopes it might save save you some time or money in looking for your own perfect camping chair.

Chair #1: The Padded One

I started out with this club chair that I picked up at Camping World. With all that padding, it was comfortable and it was warm when the weather got cold. Since much of my first few months was cold and damp, this wokred out pretty well.

Blue padded camping chair
2016: Camping in Washington State with the blue chair

But… it was also bulky for folding up and stowing in the back of the Subaru. And when the hotter temperatures showed up the next spring, it was like baking in an oven. Suddenly, all that padding wasn’t the driver it had been.

Chair #2: The Lightweight One

I saw this slightly padded Moon chair on another vagabond’s website and decided to give it a try. It was definitely lighter-weight so it folded up smaller and it also wasn’t nearly as hot to sit in.

Gray oval camping chair
2017: Camping in Pennsylvania with the second chair

But… that round shape meant the bottom, where my legs stuck out, cut into the back of my thighs. Not so comfortable after an hour or so, trust me. Great if you’re small enough to curl up in it like a cat, but my knees didn’t think much of that idea.

Chair #3: The Swinging One

The Nemo Stargaze Recliner chair was definitely an improvement in a couple of ways. It was very lightweight, being mesh, so when it rained, it dried quickly. And in the south, it rains a lot, so a quick drying chair can be a big asset. Yes, I have an awning, but when I don’t put it up and forget to stow the chair before I leave for that hike, the afternoon rain comes along and then the chair is wet.

camping chair Nemo stargaze recliner
2018: Literally the only stuff I still have from this photo is the grey ground cloth and the Alto and the orange jack pads!

But… it didn’t feel that stable as a chair and my back craved more lumbar support. I did like the fact that I could swing in it, though, so I made a mental note that a rocking chair would be nice to have at some point. (The newer model looks like it a much stronger frame, especially the lower crossbar.)

Chair #4: The Back Support One

At a hardware store in Boulder, CO, I picked up this Strongback camping chair. They have two sizes, and the smaller one was just perfect for my frame. It’s got the best back support of any chair so far, which is a big win after a day of towing or hiking. I use a small camp stool as a footstool and that works out pretty well.

Blue Strongback camp chair

I can also use this chair inside as a desk chair, which is awesome because back support means I can work longer without getting all stiff and sore. So far, chair #3 is a keeper.

Chair #5: The Soft Rocker One

My current favorite chair, the GCI MaxRelax Pod Rocker. In January, I pulled my right piriformis muscle, which meant sitting on anything for longer than 30 minutes had me reaching for painkillers and a box of tissues to wipe away the tears. While waiting for my car to get serviced in Tucson, I wandered into the nearby REI and sat down in this chair. OMG. It was the first time I’d been able to sit without pain in a few weeks. I bought the chair on the spot.

The MaxRelax Pod Rocker camp chair in blue

The bonus is that it rocks. Literally. It’s got little pistons and it rocks back and forth. Ah…

Chair #6: The Next One

Now that I have more space to carry stuff around (thanks, Ridgeline!), I’m looking for a gravity chair, one of those big hulking monsters that you can stretch out on like a chaise lounge. I tried one in Boulder at the same time I bought the Strongback and now that’s the benchmark for my next purchase.

And if I can get it in teal, so much the better!

If you enjoyed this equipment review, check out my recommendations for camping equipment outside the trailer

If it’s the right chair, it doesn’t take too long to get comfortable in it. 

Robert DeNiro

Breeze Turns 4

Breeze Turns 4

| 15 Comments

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
Sink, faucet, flooring, table, cushion, and BFW changes

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.)

Going Off the Road

Going Off the Road

| 51 Comments

tl;dr: I’m fine. Trailer is mostly fine. Subaru is driveable. And the whiskey bottle didn’t break either 🙂

In the beginning

While driving from Alamogordo, New Mexico to Fort Davis, Texas last week, I ran into with gusty winds with no warning, had a sway situation, and went off the road about 10 miles away from Fort Davis.

Before I left that morning, I had read the weather forecast closely, as I always do. The winds around Ford Davis were predicted to be 15-20 miles an hour. I’d driven many times in wind like that, so I wasn’t worried. As I got closer to Fort Davis, I could see that the mountain route I didn’t take had cloud cover and hints of snow on the mountains. I had full sun with a beautiful blue skies with puffy clouds. I was almost home for the night.

Then the trailer started to sway. I felt it before I saw it in my rear view mirror. My right hand moved to the trailer brake and hit the panic button and I kept an even speed. I’d visualized this situation, so I knew what I was supposed to do. For a few seconds, I felt the trailer falling back in line and I thought I was going to be OK. Then what felt like a big hand hitting the back of the trailer pushed it to the right and I felt the car go left and it all went wrong. I was no longer in control. The car headed off the road with trailer swinging behind it and I hit the brakes to try and slow the inevitable collision with whatever was ahead.

Tire track in the red Texas dirt

And then everything stopped. Everything was silent. I didn’t even realize the air bags hadn’t deployed. I didn’t check to see if I was OK. I pushed the door and looked behind me to see where my trailer was. It was upright. Not rolled over, not in pieces. On the hitch still. I breathed a small sigh of relief. Everything else was fixable as long as the trailer was in one piece.

A Fine Mess

There I was, in the middle of West Texas, completely stuck, with no signal on my cell phone. I looked up to see a white pickup coming down the road and before I could even wave my arms in what I hoped was a “Please stop” kind of signal, I could see it slowing and moving onto the shoulder. The friendly man driving quickly called his brother-in-law, who was working nearby come over and take a look. About two minutes later, a big official-looking truck with emergency lights on pulled over. The local game warden just happened to be heading home to Fort Davis. He radioed the county sheriff to call the Department of Public Safety and got out to see what he could do.

Game Warden, Elizabeth, and her father, surveying the scene
Game Warden, Elizabeth, and her father, surveying the scene

While we waited for more help to arrive, the game warden dug out a small saw, and he and Elizabeth and I worked to clear branches, grass, and cactus from around the side of the trailer and the car. The brother-in-law and another guy showed up and quickly assessed the situation as needing more tools so they went off to get resupplied.

Those two guys, Roy and Tony, I think that was their names, turned out to be the miracle workers of the day. They told me they’d pulled people out of similar situations, so I stood back and let ‘em have at it. They jacked up the back of the Subaru and put the spare (donut) tire on since the real tire had come off the bead. Then they jacked up the front of the Subaru and crawled under it with the chainsaw to cut down and the mesquite bush I’d run over, so that reversing the car wouldn’t add to any damage. They didn’t see much wrong structurally at that point so they decided to go ahead and pull the rig from the trailer bumper till the wheels got traction, then let the Subaru back it all up, if it could.

Meanwhile, the game warden and the sheriff were cutting the barbed wire and the wire fencing I had run through, so that those things wouldn’t cause more harm either (let’s just say barbed wire left its mark on my hood, front fender, right quarter-panel, and the windshield.

Subie vs. Barbed Wire. You can see who won this round.

As the guys were doing their thing, the state trooper took my license and insurance details, photographed the rig and the skid marks on the road, and did whatever else he needed to do to file an accident report. I asked him if there was anything I could have done to avoid this. He said the wind comes down off the mountains fast and furious sometimes and I was just kind of in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d seen worse, he said, some have gone several car lengths farther into the fields or flipped the trailer and car. I was lucky, he said.

Roy and Tony slowly and carefully pulled and pushed until all six tires were out of their red dirt ruts and Tony had enough traction to steer the Subaru. Roy dropped the chain and Tony backed the trailer and car out into the road and then onto the shoulder. At this point we had three emergency vehicles with flashers going, so I didn’t have to worry about being in the way of any other traffic while my rig blocked the road.

Ready to gently pull the rig free of the ruts. L-R: Deputy Sheriff, State Trooper (DPS), ranch hand and owner, white pickup driver and his daughter, Elizabeth.

Seeing Bella and Breeze on the side of the road, looking level and mostly unharmed was when I started to cry, tears of relief rather than fear. Breeze looked fine except for 1-inch hole where a branch had punched clear through the front wall; it missed every wire and electronic thing in that area, though.

Hole in wall 🙁

The LEOs and Tony and Roy swarmed the car, hitch, and trailer, looking for leaks, bent stuff, or anything else that might be bad news. Everyone agreed it was definitely drivable to the campground, and one deputy sheriff said he’d follow me there with flashers on, since he didn’t want me going faster than 30 mph with that donut of a spare tire on the car. I hugged everyone, passed out my little business cards, and told them this was going to be a great story on my blog, once I calmed down enough to write it.

Back On the Road

I checked my hitch, and my lights, then slowly signaled left to get back on the road. I was listening for any new noises and the sheriff was looking for leaks or any other signs of trouble. We slowly caravanned through Fort Davis, where I noted the location of the local service station where I’d be tomorrow putting the car up on the rack and getting the tire remounted, and then turned left up the road to the state park. It was definitely comforting to see the headlights of the sheriff’s car  behind me all the way. I turned into the state park, and he vanished, so I didn’t get to thank him for the escort.

I pulled into my campsite, unhitched and went inside. It was a mess: every shelf had come off the rails, every drawer had come loose and pretty much everything that wasn’t secured was at the front of the trailer, under the table, thrown forward by the force of the stop. Drawers and shelves were put back in place, bed remade, and, eventually, a small dinner consumed and the unbroken whisky bottle provided a shot to calm my nerves. Before the light faded completely, I looked under the trailer with a flashlight and couldn’t see any damage. The electric hookup worked, the propane heater and burners worked, and the plumbing seemed undamaged.

Preparation Pays Off

I think the trailer brake panic button did what it was supposed to do, it slowed down the trailer, and if the second gust hadn’t hit me, I might have been OK. And while it didn’t prevent the accident, I think it played a big part in keeping the trailer upright. I had, since the day I picked up my trailer, practiced reaching for the panic button, so my muscle memory took over as soon as I realized I had sway. That and visualizing how I would react in a sway situation definitely helped me react better than if I’d never thought about it:

  1. Don’t slam on the car brakes.
  2. Steady speed, slow down gradually if possible. Remember rule #1.
  3. Steer straight ahead, if possible.

If you tow a trailer…

For people who tow, two additional notes:
(1) My sales rep, Denis, told me to practice the panic button move and it paid off in that 13 seconds.
(2) The Alto couple who rolled their trailer in New Mexico the year before I picked up have been generous about sharing that frightening experience and it was hearing their story that made me sit down and learn what to do in case of a sway event, and that helped me do the right thing last week.

I owe all three of these people a huge debt of gratitude for their advice and experience. The reason I’m writing this post is so you can learn from my story, prepare for the worst, and maybe do better if you find themselves in a similar situation.

In Closing

I am completely grateful, and lucky, that I’m fine, my car is drivable, and the Alto is fine except for that little hole in the wall. It could have ended much worse, and I think about that every day. Sometimes you’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you can still be lucky enough to walk away from it.

I am forever grateful for the kind people of Fort Davis who stopped and helped me out just because that’s what people do in West Texas. If any of y’all are reading this, you’re the best, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

One of the deputy sheriffs, and the game warden who called in the troops.

I think you’ve really got to wait and see how things play out. Sometimes a decision you might consider a regret or failure in the present can turn out to be the catalyst for something extraordinary in the end. Some of life’s wildest journeys begin with a wrong turn.

Beau Taplin
2019 Retrospective

2019 Retrospective

| 28 Comments

It’s a new year (and a new decade, whee!) so time to look back at my Vagabond Life in 2019 and celebrate the stats!

States Visited

Only two new states this year: Montana (three nights in Missoula) and Ohio (a one-nighter at a KOA in transit from PA to CO, but it still counts). So my count is now up to 40 out of 48 states (because I’m never driving to Alaska and the Alto can’t swim to Hawaii).

Green = new in 2019 Purple = visited prior to 2019

This year’s map includes Canada, since I hit up British Columbia (mostly Vancouver Island). Let’s be honest, though, and admit that I’ve only seen the southernmost parts of BC, Ontario, and Quebec, despite the map making it seem like I’ve toured them all more extensively than I have.

Campground Stats

You might be able to figure out that I really like state park campgrounds. They vary in quality and price, but overall, they are a good deal, especially in the South, where hookups help battle the heat and humidity and boondocking opportunities are harder to come by than in the Southwest. 

Type Count
State Parks 210
RV Parks 46
Driveway Surfing 33
Corps of Engineers  27
National Parks 23
Tenn Valley Authority 11
County Parks 2
Total 352

You might also notice that I’m short about 13 days. Yes, even vagabonds take holidays so I don’t count those in the mix. 

Campground Stats by Year

Year Campground Count
2016 58
2017 100
2018 67
2019 99
TOTAL 324

Favorite Campgrounds of 2019

Of all the new places I stayed this year, these five were the standouts:

  • Modoc Corps of Engineers (COE), Georgia – kayaking from my site, good cell, and well-spaced sites about an hour north of Augusta. Also nice concrete block bath houses for tornado warnings.
  • Grayson Highlands State Park, Virginia – Wonderful hiking trails (including the AT), dense green foliage, and well-spaced sites. Cell signal in one area only, but I was on vacation so I didn’t mind. 
  • Albeni Cove COE, Idaho – Tiny park about 20 minutes from town, great boat launch and good paddling. 
  • Pacific Rim National Park, Vancouver Island, BC – Long, windswept beach with huge logs weathered silver by the elements, wild surf, and blue skies. It was coming home to the Pacific Ocean for me and I hated to leave. 
  • Wright’s Beach State Beach, California – Another Pacific Ocean beach, with camping right on the sand. Listening to the surf all night? Priceless.

By the Month Stats

Gas prices were all over the map this year. Biggest hit was paying more than $4 a gallon for California gas, ouch. The highest month for both trailer miles and gas was July, where I went from Pennsylvania to Denver, Colorado, in one grand burst of roadtripping. Lowest month for all three categories was February, where I was once again in residence at Huntington Beach State Park for the month, and their half-price deal definitely helped the Lodging budget in 2019. 

November and December lodging was crazy for two reasons: California State Parks cost a lot and I ran into a stretch of cold and rainy weather. I bailed out of two dry (no electricity) campgrounds and holed up at an RV park on the Russian River that had nice electricity and even better free wifi. It cost more, but in the end it was worth it, both for my comfort and for my contract work.

Trailer miles for these first four years of my vagabond life:

Year Trailer Mileage
2016 7532
2017 13889
2018 9422
2019 11010
TOTAL 41853

I guess that table explains why I did more trailer mods and upgrades this year than in the previous three years combined. With the help of generous and talented friends, I added a permanent surge protector, switched to a Lithium-Ion battery and solar controller, installed a new table mount that has changed the way I feel about my table, and bought new cushion covers for all the cushions. Oh, and a new set of tires, too. I’ll write more about those changes in a separate post. 

Things That Went Well

The Southern Tour was a deep and hard look at US history from post-Civil War to present day, and the racism that pervades every aspect of every day. I’m still learning, still working on my own racism and white privilege, both things I did not understand at all until last year. I’m late to all this, but determined to work on myself. If you didn’t catch the posts, here is a link to them, along with the reading list of books I’ve learned from over the past two years. 

The year’s other theme was more ad-hoc, what I call in retrospect the “Hanging with Friends” tour. From Gainesville, FL to Asheville, NC, Pennsylvania to Indiana to Colorado, and then returning “home” to the Pacific Northwest and California, I managed to catch up with a lot of friends, old and new this year. I camped with Alto owners a lot, sometimes planned and sometimes accidental meetups that found two of us at the same campground. I’ve realized once again how rich my life is because of the people, so if I met you on the road in 2019, thanks for sharing your company. 

I stepped out of my solo ways and my comfort zone to attend two women’s weekends, one for writing and one for, well, social fun and flamingos. I loved the flamingo ladies so much I’m planning my Spring around a week of camping with them again. 

Things That Didn’t Go So Well

Passing that last gas station in Kansas on my way to Denver. I was so sure there would be another gas station in the next 150 miles and my tank was more than half-full so I wasn’t worried. I should have been. I coasted into the eastern edge of the Denver metro area with 20 miles left in my tank. Never again will I pass up a gas station when I’m near half-full and unsure what the road ahead holds. 

Driving across the LA Basin with a trailer. It took me over three hours to go the last 80 miles, so just imagine how much fun that was. For those who know LA, I went from the 101 to the 134 to the 210, passing through interchanges with the 405, the 5, the 605, and the 57. With a trailer on the back of my car. Try that sometime if you want white-knuckle excitement. 

Looking ahead to 2020

Wait, we’re already IN 2020! I kicked it off on in the desert southwest, where I’ll hang out a bit longer before trekking home to Gainesville for a respite before my Big Summer Adventure (TM). 

I will never lose the love for the arriving, but I’m born to leave.

Charlotte Eriksson

Vagabond Life: Having a Plan B

Vagabond Life: Having a Plan B

| 8 Comments

I read somewhere that pilots of small planes are always on the lookout for where they could land in an emergency: a country road, an open field, or similar spots. The last few weeks, I’ve felt a bit like that, changing plans as the weather has changed (from bad to worse…) as I travel down the west coast. I thought it might make an interesting post to talk about changing things when Plan A doesn’t quite work out, so I’ll cover two situations here.

Situation 1: Campsite Woes

The spot looked great on the website when I was making the reservation. Sunny so I could use my solar panels (no hookups available, which is fairly typical for California State Parks), and a long enough driveway to fit my rig. This is the site I thought I had reserved.

But…. when I showed up, no bueno. The site turned out to be what is referred to as a double, two sites side by side with no space between them. And the other site was full up with a big trailer, a big pickup and a dog run set up right to the edge of their site. Oops.

Three years ago, I would have bit my lip, moaned a bit, and backed in and stayed there for four nights. But I’ve learned a few things in my vagabond travels and one is that there is usually a better site to be had, especially if the park isn’t fully booked up. So I drove around, noting two sites that did not have “reserved” tags on them and then stopped at the camp hosts’ site to talk to them about switching. They said it was good for the one night and I could talk to the ranger in the morning about the other three nights. I pulled into the new spot and checked on the website to see it wasn’t reserved for the rest of my stay.

Next morning, I had a nice chat with the ranger who completely understood the double site situation and came by an hour later to tell me I was good to stay in that new spot for the rest of my stay. My new spot was quiet, even if it had zero solar and I had to haul out the generator after the first few nights (which was actually day 4 of zero solar between here and the redwoods camping).

Lessons: Keep your cool, scope out possible sites, be nice to camp hosts and rangers, and never give up!

Situation 2: Weather Woes

I had reserved twelve nights on the California coast: six nights in one place, six in another. But the weather turned windy and rainy and cold, with my weather apps sending me wind warnings and gale warnings and flash flood watches. all of which didn’t bode well for warm or sunny weather. And none of those twelve nights had hookups (see earlier comments about California State Parks…)

I got onto Campendium, where I spotted a family-oriented RV park that a friend had stayed at a few times. Jumped over to their website to check availability and someone had apparently JUST canceled their Thanksgiving week so I scooped up those six nights. Twice the price of the state park, but with a more sheltered location, plus electric and water and even a laundromat. And did I mention the fast, free wifi?

By Day 4 of my stay, the weather had gotten worse. I was feeling those wind gusts shaking my trailer, even though I was a few miles inland from the coast, and the rain was almost constant. I decided to see if I could extend my stay and walked over to the campground office. Sure enough, three more nights were available, so I paid for those, then worked with a really nice agent at the California State Parks reservation line to cut my next campsite from six nights to three. I can do three rainy nights, especially since friends are joining me for the long weekend. We can always stay warm and dry in Alto-land, telling stories and drinking wine!

My view the last three days.

Lesson: Sometimes paying more is worth it. Especially in winter.

In preparing for battle I have always found that plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.

Dwight D. Eisenhower

Fighting the Heat

Fighting the Heat

| 8 Comments

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

Back Roads: Cross-Country from PA to CO

Back Roads: Cross-Country from PA to CO

| 5 Comments

Let’s just finish out July by updating my road trips, shall we? It was a busy travel month as far as mileage goes, and the gas pump receipts bear that out (don’t even ask how much it costs to tow a trailer 2/3 of the way across the country!). 

The road is sometimes mythical and romantic, as in all those road movies and novels. And sometimes, it’s all about the trucks. And the “Welcome to…” signs that indicate another state. The road remains the same, the trees aren’t any taller or thicker when you cross from Ohio to Indiana. But there is the sign. 

And there are, as always, Walmarts. I stocked up on groceries at this one near Brown County State Park, which was a lovely big park with nice sites and shade, which helped slightly to deal with the 90F heat and 90% humidity of an Indiana summer. 

Two days later, after a brief camping foray with some Alto friends, I was back on the road and crossing into Illinois. It appears from the “Welcome to…” signs that that is a bit of a tussle over ownership of Abraham Lincoln between Indiana and Illinois. 

Illinois definitely won the “most corn by the side of the road” contest I was conducting. Miles and miles and miles and miles of cornfields, with the occasional soy field thrown in by some daring farmer, I imagine. 

By the time I hit Missouri, I’d left the Lincoln infighting behind and hit the least favorite sign of the road warrior: Road Work Ahead. It’s never clear if it’s a minor repaving or a massive “we’re building a new bridge so be prepared to wait 45 minutes to use that one-lane road” type of thing. Missouri, as it turned out, was a mix of both. 

It was also mostly interstate highway for this leg, so I saw lots and lots of big rigs. My strategy is go to 55 or so (for better gas mileage, mostly) and stay in the right line. This strategy means most cars, pickups, and trucks pass me by, along with most big trailer rigs as well. I just shrug and turn up the radio. I’m in no rush. 

By the time I hit the Kansas state line, I was in a groove. My daily schedule was basically get up and make a good breakfast, then break camp (which was minimal since I didn’t unhitch or set up any awnings or chairs), and hit the road by 8AM in what was usually a semi-successful effort to beat the scorching heat of mid-afternoon on asphalt roads. Drive two hours, then stop for gas and a Diet Coke and a bathroom. After emptying my personal black tank at the gas station restroom (an amenity that is usually clean and well-stocked in the midwest states, which I greatly appreciate) and cracking open the cold drink that would start refilling it, I’d get back in the car (oops, clean the windshield of the two-hour dead bug collection first), and then crank up the radio and hit the next stretch of road.

If things went well on any given day, I’d hit the campground by 1-2 PM and then be able to read and relax for a few hours, or take a shower and try to cool off. Even doing the minimalist camping thing (no unhitching, just stabilizers down to keep the trailer from rocking too much, no awning, maybe a chair but usually inside with AC), I worked up enough of a sweat that a shower felt good. 

I left Lancaster, PA on July 7 and made it to Denver, Colorado on July 15. Most stops were one-night stands, but I did take two nights south of Indianapolis to meet up with fellow Alto owners for a mini-rally, and quite enjoyed the one-day break from driving. 

[table id=1 /]

The truest drive comes from doing what you love. 

Peter Diamandis

 

Update: Jul 10, 2019

Update: Jul 10, 2019

| 7 Comments

Wow, what a week that was! My friend decided last year to host a gathering of runners and ex-runners who have been part of an internet-based group for over 20 years (so, yeah, we’re all older now and that kind of explains the ex-runners…). We met up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and had a wonderful weekend of it. My head is still kind of reeling from all the people, stories, and photos!

One of the things I love about Lancaster (and this is my third visit since 2017!) is how very photogenic everything is!

One of the group activities was a driving tour around Amish country. Which led to horse and buggy meeting a Tesla sedan and two other cars on a one-lane road.

Traffic jam and culture clash in one photo.
Later on, we saw another example of worlds colliding, this at the oddly named town of Bird-in-Hand. Which is just up the road from Intercourse. Go figure…
Who knew Amish used ATMs?

Sunday’s group walk/run was on a route with two covered bridges, so I convinced the cyclist in the group to pose for this shot. Was thinking of my nephew, Tim, as I took it (and check out @SoCalBikePT on instagram if you are a cyclist!).

Monday, it was time to pull up the stabilizers and head out. Into the rain. All day. Pulled into a spot at a campground in Western Pennsylvania just in time for the sun to come out. Stupid weather.

Tuesday morning, I went out early in the morning to see the Flight 93 National Memorial. I hadn’t realized I would be within a half-hour of it, so I called an audible and drove there before starting the day’s trek west. I can’t do it justice in a paragraph; it deserves a separate, sobering post.

Today, I’m heading west. Also doing that on Thursday. And Friday. And Saturday… I should make it to the Denver area by Tuesday, and then be based in CO until the end of July. I’m definitely looking forward to less humidity and more mountains.

It is more important to click with people than to click the shutter.

Alfred Eisenstaedt

Weekly Update: Jul 4, 2019

Weekly Update: Jul 4, 2019

| 2 Comments

Happy Independence Day, United States! In our 243 years of life, there have been many, many growing pains and sometimes the way forward had been bitterly contested and the people sharply divided. My fellow Americans: let us remember the good things about America: pick a few that are meaningful to you and think on those as you watch the fireworks tonight. 

I spent the much of the last week in Maryland, splitting my time between two campgrounds. The first one was not only just 20 miles from Gettysburg and a great dinner with friends, it was also about 20 miles from Mater. Yes, the star of Cars! Well, maybe not the original Mater, but it was a pretty good replica and my friends and I had fun snapping photos. 

The next day, I had the surreal experience of shopping for groceries in an early Frank Gehry building in Columbia, Maryland (after lunch and catching up with my camping buds who live nearby). 

And then, I had an even more surreal experience of getting hit by a van while I was sitting inside my car with the engine off. Sigh. The good news is that the bumper actually popped back out during the drive home in 90F weather so there was little permanent damage except for three spots where the paint had been scraped off. Down the road, I’ll fix it but for now, I’m just relieved my tow vehicle is OK.

The weirdness actually started earlier in the week when I arrived in Maryland to find out my dump hose (that thing that empties the pee and poop out of the trailer and into a dump tank at campgrounds) had decided it didn’t want to leave the South as much as I did and made a break for it somewhere on a backroad road in Virginia. I took a tip from a fellow Alto owner and made a little clip for the hose container. If the new hose gets out, it’s a Houdini hose!

On to better things…

On April Fool’s Day, I got online at 8AM to score free entry tickets to the National African American Museum of History and Culture. So this week, I met up with two friends and we toured the museum on July 1st. Well, half of it. It is a LOT of museum to cover! I’ll feature my visit in a separate post, as visiting here was a fitting conclusion to my Southern Tour, in a lot of ways. 

From Maryland, I headed up to Pennsylvania, letting out a yelp of satisfaction when I saw the “Mason Dixon Line” sign and the “Welcome to Pennsylvania” sign on opposite sides of the highway. Although Maryland considers itself not really Southern, the Mason Dixon line remains the divider between the North and South in a lot of people’s minds. Now I am well and truly out of the South for the rest of 2019. 

One of my buddies in the 52 Frames project lives in York, which is a few towns over from where I am staying, so we met up in real life (a rare treat for me and internet friends!) and had lunch from the “Breakfast All Day” menu while we talked photography, careers, and other things. The time sped by, and it’s great to know I have another person in PA to visit in my touring America travels. 

Then, and I *know* you are all waiting for it, it was a return to The House of the Daylilies in Lancaster, PA. Don’t try to google that place, that’s not it’s real name. It’s the house of my friends, Peg and Larry, and Peg is a truly dedicated gardener who loves her daylilies. And this is the perfect time of year to visit.

Three years in a row, I’ve scored here it comes to daylily goodness. Longtime readers might remember that two years ago, I was here with hand freshly liberated from cast, and took photos as therapy both physical and emotional as I rehabbed that hand. Look for a special post dedicated to the 2019 daylilies in future. Here’s a little taste of this year’s crop…

And having had my fireworks last night, thanks to the local country club and a nice roadside perch a few blocks away, I’ll have a quiet night. Next week starts the big adventure to the West, so I’m spending time this week sprucing up the Alto, cleaning things out, and installing a few upgrades (yeah, more on those in a later post, too). Stay tuned and stay well, my friends.

True patriotism hates injustice in its own land more than anywhere else.

Clarence Darrow

Update: Jun 27, 2019

Update: Jun 27, 2019

| 10 Comments

That’s a wrap for the Southern Tour. After 320 straight days in the southern United States, I crossed the border from Virginia into Maryland yesterday and left the South behind for the rest of this year.

Steel bridge with cars under a clear sky
Crossing the Potomac River into Maryland

When I moved my domicile to Florida in January of 2018, I honestly didn’t think I would spend a lot of time in the South so it was surprising to me to find myself spending 11 months straight deep in Florida, South and North Carolina, Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, and Virginia.

Counting all of 2018 into the mix, I’ve spent 14 of the last 18 months in the southern states. I have the map to prove it, hanging on a cork board in my trailer for the last year, marking routes as I planned and then followed them. 

Blue = 2018, Green = 2019, Red = last stop in the South

I have hiked a lot, including parts of the Appalachian Trail, explored monuments and museums devoted to civil rights and racial justice, met up with friends eager to show me their cities, camped with friends old and new, and attended a writers’ retreat and a women’s weekend.

I wasn’t sure what I would do in the South. I had a vague idea of exploring our nation’s racial history that turned into a self-directed series of lessons about the true history of America, exploring the Civil War and its aftermath, seeing the iconic places of the civil rights movement and hearing from people who lived through it with courage and grace. I’ve read books by black authors, watched documentaries on mass incarceration, and learned how sheltered and unaware I was in my little bubble of white privilege. Spending time in the South has truly been a life-changing experience for me.

The South also definitely has weather different from where I’ve hung my hat in the past. I’ve been hailed on, hidden in a concrete bathhouse during a tornado warning, kept an eye on half a dozen tornado watches (one step below a warning), jumped at the crack of thunder over my head, and watched rainstorms so fierce I wondered if my Alto would indeed float if it came to that. And then after the storm, the sky and the sunset. The South does that really well, too. 

Sunset at Kerr Lake, Virginia, after an afternoon thunderstorm

Now I’m headed by stops and starts up and over to the Pacific Northwest. I’m excited to revisit people and places I’ve missed in the last three years since I left Seattle on this vagabond road and I’m looking forward to making new adventures in new places. Onward!

First stop on the new adventure: Maryland!

Instead of trying to make your life perfect, give yourself the freedom to make it an adventure, and go ever upward.

Drew Houston

%d bloggers like this: