You know all those appliance manuals that came with you RV? Dig them out from under the bed and read them, at least once a year. It will remind you of certain things you need to maintain to keep your rig in prime operating condition.

Take for instance the water heater. It has an easily accessible anode rod that should be replaced at least annually. All RV water heaters are protected by this magnesium or aluminum anode to prolong the life of the tank by absorbing the corrosive action of hot water. Basically, it will corrode before the tank does. And if it corrodes entirely, it can no longer do its job.

This is just one of those little things we forgot all about. And we are not alone. But it is also one of the most simple items on the honey-do list of any RVer. Just make sure the hot water has been turned off for a while or you may get scalded, and that your hose is disconnected so the system is not pressurized.

Then release any pressure in the water heater tank by pulling its relief valve. Now get yourself a deep socket – the rod in our Suburban water heater has 1 1/16″ head – and loosen the threaded anode rod at the bottom of the water heater. (Yes, from outside your rig.) Let all the water drain and flush out any debris with a hose. this took me a while because we had accumulated quite a bit of debris as you can see by how our old anode looked.

Replacement anode rods can be found at any RV parts counter or service center. To prevent leakage, apply teflon tape to the threads before screwing in the new anode. Make sure it is screwed in straight and secure, fill the tank, run a faucet to allow any trapped air to escape, turn on the heater, and you’re set for another few months. Or at least until you remember you forgot all about the water heater anode again.

A few weeks ago we jumped the gun. In our excitement to actually commit to something tangible again, we told you about a fixer-upper house we were in escrow on.

I’d like to apologize for our premature announcement. We didn’t get the house.

Instead, we pulled out of that nightmare-waiting-to-happen, but only until our offer for a better property was accepted.

We haven’t wanted to say anything, fearing that we might jinx the deal. But now it’s safe to spill it, since we are closing escrow Monday at 11 am.

What Really Happened

We are now the proud owners of a 3 bedroom 2 bath mountain home, on 4.98 acres in Red Feather Lakes, about 50 miles northwest of Fort Collins.

A few weeks ago we learned that our fixer-upper had a very questionable foundation lying underneath it. Cosmetic repairs are one thing, but buying a house with bad foundation can be a horrible mistake. The heartbreaking news brought back bad memories of our previous money pit, of which we had to put a $23,000 foundation underneath. I cried as we debated whether or not to move forward on the deal.

That’s when we received a beautiful statue of St. Francis, from our friend Heather.

St. Francis was sent in honor of the 9 month anniversary of our Jerry’s departure, which happened on the Feast of St. Francis. Heather sent this to us on Jerry’s behalf, with an encouraging message essentially telling us to hang on to our dream. She had no we were already in escrow for the fixer-upper. “It’s out there,” she said, don’t give up.

Days later, as we were just about to give up on our search here, we saw the listing for something that sounded too good to be true.

Why We Bought It

Priced way below market value, the sellers are divorcing and just wanted to dump their weekend getaway. As soon as we saw it, we knew this was the spot we’ve been looking for.

It fits our criteria perfectly. It’s a simple, affordable property that won’t get us into debt. It sits on manageable mountain acreage near a town we love. And it’s almost within 2 hours of a major airport (Denver). The house is 9 years old and has hardly been used. It’s in perfect working order; it even has running water and heat! Other than the ugly kitchen cabinet doors, we love it.

The house lies in a beautiful mountain subdivision with exorbitant HOA fees, but they get us year-round road maintenance, and all the fishing Jim wants on about a dozen private lakes and river frontage. We could live here all year if we wanted to.

At 8400′ above sea level, Red Feather Lakes is a cool summer escape and a winter wonderland for Fort Collins residents. There’s a small community nearby with a couple of restaurants, a bar, a convenience store, gas station, and a post office. Many people live here year round, as Fort Collins is an easy drive to make. What more do we need?

It’s as close to perfect as we can get, but there’s just one problem:  Unlike the last place, which had a big flat space for RVs, this house sits on top of a gradual slope. and the driveway isn’t big enough for more than two RVs, at least until we do some grading. But, the good news is that the subdivision runs a nearby private campground with full hookups ($20 a night) for property owners’ guests.

So, with many thanks to Jerry and his pal St. Francis, and everyone who encouraged us to hang in there, we can safely say that we have found our dream property at 21 Hopewell Court, Red Feather Lakes Colorado.

I know my thoughts about the homeownership myth seem contradictory to what Jim and I are doing right now (buying a house), but hear me out. . .

For too long, Americans have been shammed into believing in the homeownership myth. We have been fooled by our banks, our lenders and even my financial guru, Suze Orman, into believing that buying a home is the greatest investment we’ll ever make.

It’s a lie. Over the years there have been studies that show that if you take the amount you spend on a home and put that same amount into the stock market, even in horrible markets like we have now now, the stocks will always yield a greater investment over the long term than the house will. So, why have we always been so convinced by financial “experts” that overextending ourselves to buy a show home is such a great investment?

Now that people are waking up to the fact that buying a house isn’t going to get us on the Forbes Who’s Who List, could we be entering a new era when people finally understand the true cost of home ownership?

I just finished reading John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley, his classic road trip journey into the heart of 1950s America. In one section of the book, I was pleasantly surprised to find Steinbeck’s musings about the exciting new era of trailers and mobile homes in the 1950s. He was captivated at the thought of a home on wheels, and interviewed trailer park dwellers to ask them about their choices to live in a trailer instead of a stick house. One of them explains:

“Who knows that is in store tomorrow? . . . If a plant or factory closes down, you’re not trapped with property you can’t sell. Suppose the husband has a job and is buying a house and there’s a layoff. The value goes out of his house. But if he has a mobile home he rents a trucking service and moves on and he hasn’t lost anything. He may never have to do it, but the fact that he can is a comfort to him.”

Steinbeck goes on to say that even if the homes are financed through a lender,

“the payments, even if high and festoned with interest, are no worse than renting an apartment and fighting the owner for heat. And where could you rent such a comfortable ground-floor apartment with a place for your car outside the door? Where else could the kids have a dog?”

And so, I ask you, dear reader, when was it that trailer parks started getting such a bad rap?

Steinbeck asks a father living in a trailer court: “One of our most treasured feelings concerns roots, growing up rooted in some soil or some community.” How did they feel about raising their children without roots? The man answers him with:

“How many people today have what you are talking about? What roots are there in an apartment twelve floors up? What roots are in a housing development of hundreds and thousands of small dwellings almost exactly alike?”

Steinbeck wonders, “Don’t you miss some kind of permanence?”

The father answers::

“Who’s got permanence? Factory closes down, you move on. Good times and things opening up, you move on where it’s better. You got roots and you sit and starve. You take the pioneers in this history books. They were moovers. Take up land, sell it, move on. . . “

He adds: ” . . . suppose the place I work goes broke. I’ve got to move where there’s a job. I get to my job in three minutes. You want I should drive twenty miles because I’ve got roots?”

Even back in the 1950s, being able to go where the money is just made so much sense. I’d like to know when this ideaology fell by the wayside, and we started believing that being a chained to a mortgage and a big house was the smart thing to do. Everyone wants a nice place to live, but what’s the real cost of that lifestyle?

So, why are Jim and I buying property? Because there’s got to be a happy medium, dontcha think? For starters, it’s nice to have a break from campground fees. And we also need a place for our stuff! We think we can reconcile our need to roam with property ownership, because we’re only buying what we can afford, and won’t be indebted to a bank. Without that threat hanging over our heads, we’ll still have the freedom to live on relatively little income, move with the seasons like snowbirds, and go where the work is, if and when we need to.

At least, that’s the plan.

We proved to ourselves that RVing hasn’t turned us into outdoorsy wussies.

Our California friends Kim and Ari Shapiro, and their son Caz, paid us a visit recently, during their six week road trip sabbatical. Jim and Ari have been friends since college, and the five of us always had lots of great times backpacking and car camping.

We haven’t tent camped for almost a year, so when Kim and Ari wanted to check out the nearby Rahwah Wilderness, we went along for a few days, and took the backpacking gear instead of the rig.

We hauled our gear a whole 20 feet, from the truck to the tent pad at a great campsite along a river. The river lulled us to sleep both nights, making it a little easier to snooze on the rock hard ground.

Getting back to our roots and sleeping in our tiny tent wasn’t too bad, and we’ll definitely do it again sometime. But I’ve gotta say, RVing with refrigeration and a mattress is a lot kinder to your body.

Nearly two years of keeping up this RV travel blog and it dawns on me that we’ve really only written this one boondocking tip, for conserving water.

Well, considering we have now gone as many as 45 days without hookups – not too recently, mind you – it seems appropriate to provide some tips for making the most of your boondocking days.

First, we refer to boondocking here as anytime we’re not hooked into the grid for the night. Ergo, any night spent without hookups is boondocking to us – whether it be out in the boonies or in a WalMart parking lot. Technically though, according to a “Disconnected RVing” article in the Escapees magazine we now get; if your staying in a campground without hookups, that is considered Dry Camping.

But this post isn’t about linguistics. It’s about seeing how long you can go without hookups, comfortably. And comfort is the key here. It takes a certain level of which to truly enjoy long term boondocking. Which we do, so keep that in mind as we share our methods, or madness depending on how you look at it …

Go Solar – A basic system including solar panel, charge controller and inverter will help keep your batteries charged and provide AC power when not plugged in. As with anything of course, the more you spend the more you get. A large bank of 6v batteries and multiple solar panels may enable you to go longer before re-charging, if you have to at all. But this can quickly drain the pocketbook. We get by with one 120w solar panel, a 2400w inverter and the two 12v RV batteries that came with our trailer.

Stay Charged Up – To keep your batteries healthy, never let them drain completely. Many recommend charging batteries if they fall below 12 volts. Our inverter will automatically shut off if voltage drops below 11.7 volts. Get yourself an accurate voltmeter and run your generator to charge batteries as often as necessary.

Maintain those Batteriers – Be sure to check your batteries regularly. We learned the hard way. If they are not the sealed maintenance free type, keep distilled water on hand and top them off as necessary. Boondocking often means bumpy roads, so ensure all battery connections are tight, and no wires may be causing shorts in the system.

Use the Sun – Solar power is best suited for “float” charging which is basically keeping batteries topped off when they are about 90% charged. So take breaks during the day to let the sun do its work. A generator is better suited for “absorbtion” when battery power is further depleted. The best time to fully charge batteries with your generator is in the morning when they are at rest.

Consider Your Position – You know your rig. If you have solar panels, park so they get maximum exposure to the sun throughout the day. For us, it is best to park facing the northwest. That way our satellite dish will not cast a shadow on our solar panel.

Go in the Woods – Use vault toilets whenever available, or a tree if not, to conserve water from flushing.

Bundle up – In cold weather, put on a sweater or grab another blanket before considering wasting battery power and propane by running the furnace.

Strip Down – If it’s hot, put on your shorts or consider moving on to where it’s not. Your air conditioner will quickly drain your batteries, if your solar power system is capable of running it.

Stock Up – Before heading out to the Boonies, always ensure your fresh water tanks are full and you have plenty of gas for your generator and propane in your tanks. It helps to have empty waste water tanks too!

Stock Up Some More – Carry extra fresh water with you when planning extended stays without hookups. We use three collapsible 5 gallon water jugs and various other containers for topping off our tank.

Conserve – Sounds simple, but it is the most important thing to consider when boondocking. And it relates to both power and water. Use headlamps or battery powered lanterns rather than your house lights. Never leave lights on when not needed. We go so far as to remove the LP leak detector fuse so its LED light doesn’t glow.

Conserve More – Never let the water run when doing dishes. Clean pots and utensils using a bowl of soapy water then rinse all at once under dripping water. Using paper plates and disposable cups will eliminate the water needed to wash them. And remember, cast iron pans don’t need scrubbing and can usually just be wiped clean.

Conserve Even More – When taking a shower, run the water into a tea kettle or other container while it heats up so none is wasted. Take short bird baths with as little water as possible, or consider skipping daily showers. Use body wipes to stay feeling fresh.

Play The Shower Game – Try to see how little water you can actually use. Wet down within a few seconds. Soap up, then rinse off quickly. Shower immediately after one another so you don’t have to wait for the water from the faucet to warm up again.

Fill Your Black Tank – Grey water tanks often fill up quicker than your black water. So wash dishes using a tub and pour the dishwater down the toilet. Turn the water pump off when doing this so the toilet will not flush.

Make One Pot Meals – Plan meals you can make using one pan to reduce dish washing. We find that grilling uses the least amount of dishes and is much more enjoyable anyway.

Wipe Before Cleaning – Wipe out all dirty pans and dishes with a paper towel before washing to reduce the amount of water required.

Work Offline – Our biggest electrical draw is our network. With two laptops, a wireless router, MotoSat dish controller, HughesNet modem and network storage, we can drain our batteries within a few hours on a busy cloudy day. So, we do whatever work we can offline before booting up the network. Leaving the network drive unplugged helps, and once we are locked onto our satellite we also turn off the dish controller since there is no need for that again until we have to put the dish down.

Enjoy it – Boondocking is meant to be fun. It’s the best way to get out and away from it all. When your tanks are empty and full, and you need to recharge yourself, head for hookups to give the rig a good cleaning and enjoy the luxury of lights at night. Then dump and fill up so you can go do it again!

If you have any helpful off-grid RVing, “dry-camping” or boondocking tips of your own please share them by leaving a comment. And let us know how long you have gone without hookups or if you just abhor the idea.

We got our home inspection report back and among all of the other things we know need to be fixed, it pointed out that the house is sitting on a poorly constructed foundation.

Jim isn’t as concerned as I am, he’s confident the house is still a good investment.  Me, on the other hand…I”m freaking out. We’re getting estimates on the repairs now.

Today I was just about ready to back out of the deal. Foundation work is expensive. We had to put a foundation under our last house, and it cost in the neighborhood of around $25k.

But then we talked to our realtors. They wanted to help us feel better about our decision (whether we went forward or not), so they helped us come up with a negotiating tactic that might lower the cost. Whether or not the bank will go for our demand is anyone’s guess.

Meanwhile, our realtors dropped everything to spend the entire day with us, and showed us a dozen other properties in our price range. Every single one was a dump, none were as cool as our current one. After seeing the junk we could get with our money, I did feel a little better about the scary foundation report.

At least there aren’t any earthquakes here, right?

The search is over, all votes are in. After two years and about 40 states, we’ve determined that Colorado is our favorite spot, and Fort Collins is our ideal town.

But many other people also know this, and real estate prices here remain high, even in a supposedly down market.

The search for our dream property has been frustrating and emotionally charged. After two months of hard searching here, we finally accepted the hard truth;

we have enough money to buy a few acres of land, but not enough to build the kind of house we want.

Living in our RV is fine, but the whole point of buying land was to put something on it that could hold our remaining stuff (presently in storage in California), while we continue roaming the country as digital nomads. We thought about just building a garage, but after doing so, it wouldn’t leave us with enough funds to build a future house too.

And so, we widened our search criteria to go beyond raw land, and include fixer upper houses and cabins. That’s when we walked into the sad new world of bargain basement foreclosed homes. Our realtors have tons of experience with repo properties, making the process less daunting.

Last week, we made an offer on a sprawling ranch house set on nearly one acre of horse property, about 10 minutes from town. The offer was accepted.

We instantly liked this place because:

• The area is rural and quiet, but still close enough to the fun stuff in town.
• It needs a ton of work, but extensive house rehabs are nothing new to us.
• The property is big enough to park multiple RVs on (hear that, NuRVers?)
• At the peak of the market, it sold for twice as much as we’re buying it for now.
• And the biggest reason we took the plunge: it’s a bargain, and we can stay debt free, even after repairs.

Surprised? So are we. It’s not quite what we had in mind when we first hit the road in search of Jerry’s Land. We originally had visions of off-grid living in some remote, rugged location like Lake City. But the last few months have been a good reality check. We’ve learned that:

If we want a seriously rural lifestyle, we’ll need a lot more money to do it comfortably, not Ted Kaczynski style.

We don’t feel like this is a compromise. We’re getting into this property because it’s practical; it fits much of our criteria, and everything indicates we can double our money after repairs.

We like the home enough to live on indefinitely, but it’s still one more step we’re taking to reach our ultimate goal. Like Jerry would say, never give up!

The house won’t be livable for some time (notice the leaning chimney?). It’s stripped clean inside (Jim is standing in the kitchen area in this photo), and needs extensive repairs from new plumbing to a roof. While it looks scary, we’re not running away. At 1,895 square feet, the house isn’t exactly small, but not nearly as daunting as our previous fixer, a 3,770 sq. ft., 106-year-old Victorian.

In the meantime, we’ll spend the rest of summer here, go back to Texas in winter, and return in spring. We’ll live like hillbillies in our RV out in the horse pasture, and one by one we’ll knock projects off our punch list without a contractor. In-between, we might even start a small garden and grow some kind of specialty item to sell at local farmer’s markets. We’ll need the funds.

Escrow closes sometime around the end of July. Stay tuned. More adventures are sure to follow.

In Colorado, it’s easy to find biodiesel distributors in major cities along the Front Range. We recently fueled up in Fort Collins, and were pleased to find that the cost of biodiesel was more reasonable than ever. It was about nine cents higher per gallon than regular diesel, but not as bad as the last time we went looking for it.

But my joy at the cheap price quickly disappeared a few days later, when I read the latest news about the biodiesel industry’s assault on the rain forest and orangutans. As oil prices rise, the industry is  accelerating rain forest destruction, just to grow the palm trees needed to produce this alternative to oil. Manufactured biodiesel is now as morally corrupt as anything big oil manufactures, if not worse.

I used to be a real believer in biodiesel. But these recent relevations are just so depressing. From now on, we’ll only be purchasing biodiesel if it’s made from 100 percent waste oil, or we’re making it ourselves.