The fulltime lifestyle is always a good time until something goes wrong. From spent brakes to getting stuck in the mud, if you’re going to make it on the road you need to be comfortable being self-reliant and making decisions on your own.

RVing lifestyle challenges can bring couples closer together if they learn how to navigate these challenges . . . or they will end up killing each other and calling the road trip done.

We have faced our share of road trip calamities. We’ve always survived, but oftentimes at the cost of out of control emotions, expensive repairs and a sad sense of feeling like we were all alone in the world.

At times like that, even this tough chick will admit it’s lonely being out there without friends or family to call and bail you out.

Up here in the mountains, we have neighbors, but they’re not close enough to see from our property. We get the impression that people live up here for a reason . . . they don’t want to have neighbors. They’re hermits. I guess that might make us hermits too, but really, we aren’t. We just like the scenery.

Stranded on the  Mountain

Last week our trusty Dodge died (which Jim will eventually write about). My worst nightmare came true; we were stuck on our mountain without a vehicle (other than Jim’s motorcycle). Although Jim made a valiant effort to fix the problem the previous week, it returned last weekend, leaving us stranded again.

We had two options; either fork out serious cash for the 80 mile tow to the great diesel mechanic we found in town, or call our newly relocated friends, Lisa and Sean Purcell, who just planted roots here in Fort Collins after fulltiming with their kids for nearly two years. Suspecting that we had an electrical drain on our batteries, we knew that their Ford F350 could jump our Dodge 2500.

After a quick text to Lisa, she and Sean and their kids were on their way without hesitation. Instead of enjoying their new life in town on a beautiful sunny day, they drove the 80 miles to get us started and escorted us back to town to make sure we got there safely.

The Purcells saved us the towing fee, but their help was worth so much more than that. They gave us the emotional therapy we needed to get through a stressful situation. They made us laugh, got our truck started, then saved our day from crumbling into catastrophe. The two of them, their great kids and their dog Sophie turned a lousy morning around into a really nice afternoon with friends.

Thanks guys!

Life on the road is fantastic, and we’ll still keep snowbirding, but this proves there really is a lot to be said about a place you can call home.

It’s been a quiet week up here at Crystal Lakes . . .

Quiet summer is more like it. Usually. Our moutain abode is one hour from anywhere, and other than the times when weekenders come and inhabit their cabins and stupidly leave food out for the bears, there’s not a lot of excitement up here.

Oh wait, there is an occasional moose and rare wildflower sighting. Now that’s excitement!

We go to town once a week for Wyatt’s bad-boy dog schooling and stock up on provisions. The one hour trip to town is an all-day event.

Otherwise summer’s been spent working on projects for our other entrepreneurial endeavors that will bring in millions for us (hey I can always hope!).

And while the rest of the country swelters in blistering August heat, we are wearing sweats in the morning and long sleeves in the afternoon. A touch of fall is in the air and although afternoon temperatures are in the low 70s, there’s a chill in the air every morning. We are at 8,400 feet elevation after all.

It’s amazing to think how quickly summer flies by in the Rockies, but that’s what makes this place so beautiful. Nothing lasts long enough around here for us to take it for granted.

Including my best girlfriend Renee, who moved back to California a few weks ago. I’m so bummed that she left but we’ll see her again when we head to warmer climates in winter.

But, just this week, fellow road tripper friends Lisa and Sean have decided to lay down some roots in Fort Collins for a while, so that’ll be fun.

This is the first summer we’ve had in years that feels peaceful, beautiful and in sync with all that we treasure in this world.

The feeling isn’t so much because we’re staying put and getting into a routine (we are already talking about where we’re going to spend winter). It’s because we feel like we belong here. This is the first place we’ve ever lived where it feels like our hearts are meant to be here.

The Rockies are being very, very good to us and we are grateful. Thank you Jerry.

We all know the truth, yet how many of us avoid seeing it?

Our lives go by too fast, and one day we’re left wondering, “what happened?” All those cool things we dreamed of when we were younger got put on the “someday” list while we we were being “responsible” workers or entrepreneurs, attempting to carve out a reputation (hopefully good), keep our heads above water and stash some money away for that “someday” when we were going to get to do what we really wanted to do.

The trouble with that scenario, as many of you know, is that someday usually arrives when we’re far too old and decrepit, or dead, to enjoy it.

I’m not knocking those pursuits. Hey, if you want to be the fat man in the BMW, that’s your prerogative. But Jim and I always wanted so much more than a status symbol with a balance due.

From 2001 to 2006, a series of events led Jim and I to chuck it all and say “screw it” to the conventional life we were leading. Those events, though tragic and hopeless at the time, turned out to be blessings in disguise.

Because although we thought we had carved out a life that was adventurous, when we finally added up how much time we spent at our desks, versus living life with Jerry doing cool stuff in the woods, work always won.

Even as entrepreneurs, we were robbing ourselves of the very freedom that being self-employed was supposed to bring to us!

Once Jerry got sick, we knew time was of the essence. It was our chance to spend the last of our days together, living a life without routines or obligations or bills. With dogged pursuit and prayers to the universe, we made it happen. It was probably the first time we realized that all things truly are possible, if you truly want it bad enough.

Live Your Dreams, Work Less

Which leads me to the whole point of this post; right now we are listening to a life-changing book by Tim Ferris, called “The 4-Hour Workweek.”

• If you have ever considered shedding your current lifestyle for one that you know will bring you true spiritual happiness, this book is for you.
• If you’re in dire need of a real income, you can’t afford not to get this book.
• If you have ever wanted to live an adventurous life instead of toiling away in your cubicle, this book is for you.
• If you want to know how to keep your life on track without letting things like Facebook, television and the pursuit of money suck the life out of you, you must read this book.

I”m not getting paid to write this, Tim Ferris never even sent me a review copy. I was told about this book by fellow adventure traveler, Sam, who urged Jim and I to check it out. I had always heard about it but the title put me off; it sounded like a cheesy get-rich-quick self-help book. But Sam’s a smart guy, and he’s got a good life with Kim, on the road and at their rancho in New Mexico, so I decided to get the download, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. Thanks Sam!

“Whether you’re an overworked employee or an entrepreneur trapped in your own business, The 4-Hour Workweek is the compass for a new and revolutionary world.

Forget the old concept of retirement and the rest of the deferred-life plan—there is no need to wait and every reason not to.

Whether your dream is escaping the rat race, high-end world travel, monthly five-figure income with zero management, or just living more and working less, this book is the blueprint.”

We are only into the first hour, but already we’re digging it. Everything Ferris says, we can relate to; we’ve already made the move to live a life that brings us real inner happiness, so we nod in agreement with everything he says, laughing and raising our fists going “Yeah!”

Where we are finding The 4-Hour Workweek more applicable to our lives is in how Ferris demonstrates how to be more efficient at making money, while pursuing the adventures that we want. That’s where Jim and I need the help (especially when it comes to making money!).

Stop shouldding all over yourself. Soon you’ll be dead, or close to it. Will you be able to look at your life and feel content, knowing that your dreams were fulfilled to your heart’s desire?

Or will you have spent the best part of your years as the fat man in the BMW, sitting in traffic, wishing you could be somewhere else?

Thankfully, summer’s not over, but I’m already thinking about what to pack when we hit the road in Fall. As we enter our third year of living in the RV during winter, I believe I’ve got a better grasp of what kind of outdoor clothing to pack.

We’ll be on the road during what are technically the coldest months of the year, but as snowbirds, we’ll try to stay one step ahead of the nasty weather that haunts most of North America from fall to spring.

Unlike snowbirds who just say in one place, Jim and I tend to go off the beaten path to isolated areas with few people and spectacular scenery.

The price we pay for these adventures is that we need to be pack the right type of clothing for our roaming lifestyle, without sacrificing important space for booze and technology.

Here’s what gear will go in the RV this season:

Jim’s outdoor clothing list

• 1 pair La Fuma hiking shoes
• 1 pair Asics running shoes
• 1 pair Nike slip on shower shoes
• 1 Marmot rain jacket / windbreaker
• 1 pair Columbia snow pants
• 1 Button down wool shirt-jac
• 3 pairs of sweats
• 1 set polypropylene long underwear
• Socks: hiking, wool, running, liners
• 1 sweatshirt
• 1 fleece vest
• 1 pair hiking gaiters
• 1 pair convertible hiking pants with zip-off legs
• 3 pairs shorts
• 2 running outfits
• 1 pair bike shorts
• 1 pair swim trunks

Rene’s outdoor clothing list

• 1 pair North Face hiking boots
• 1 pair Nike running shoes
• 1 pair Mizuna running shoes
• 1 pair Teva sandals
• 1 North Face rain jacket / windbreaker
• 1 pair Moonstone rain / snow pants
• 1 zip up fleece sweatshirt
• 3 pairs sweats
• 1 pair polypropylene long underwear
• 1 pair leggings
• Socks: hiking, wool, running, liners
• 1 zip up sweatshirt hoodie
• 1 casual fleece sweatshirt
• 1 pair hiking gaiters
• 1 pair convertible hiking pants with zip-off legs
• 2 pairs jeans
• 3 pairs shorts
• 2 running outfits
• 1 pair bike shorts
• 1 swimsuit

This list isn’t comprehensive but it’s the bulk of of what we build our wardrobe around.

Obviously, we don’t go to too many places that require dressy attire, but we do carry one set of nice clothes for each of us. Last year I made the mistake of thinking I would need lots of clothes while working for Satan, so I took far too much clothing.

Now that I know I’m not cut out to punch a clock anywhere again, I’ll leave the work clothes at home and save that space for something more important; two buck Chuck and Trader Joe’s eats.

In 2007 when we started dreaming about a new place to live, we had grandiose ideas of becoming micro-farmers and living off the land. But then we actually worked on a farm, and scratched that idea. Once we realized that farmers don’t take vacations (ever), we decided that small scale gardening was  more our speed.

As we started looking for property, having space to garden was important. But as reality hit and we saw the disparity between what we could afford versus what we wanted, garden space took a back seat to finding a solid roof over our heads, running water and electricity. Once we found Jerry’s Acres, we thought we had it it all.

Until reality came knocking . . . again. Or rather, the chipmunks, rabbits and deer showed up.

And boy, are they hungry.

I spent fifty bucks on our first garden this year, and this is what I got. Mangled Swiss Chard that some rodent was kind enough to leave behind for me.

Jim helped me put my plants inside of a dog kennel that the previous owners left behind. Thinking this was enough to keep the deer out, I started planting my crops. I kept it simple, and stuck with chard, lettuce, and a couple of herbs planted in recycled containers.

Silly me. I was actually able to grow vegetables at 8,400 feet elevation, and the dog run kept the deer out. But I didn’t consider that chipmunks could fit inside that chain link. And before the chard leaves really had a chance to grow, chipmunks were feasting on my garden every day.

I’ve since raised the plants up off the ground and covered my lettuce beds with chicken wire. So far, the plants seem to be doing better.

I’m hoping we’ll have edible greens by late August. At that point, Fall will be in the air, and it’ll be nearly time to go again. But at least we’ll reap the benefits of our investment.

Next year, we won’t mess around. We’ll spend the money to build a cold frame garden, and I’ll get our hydroponics setup going again. If we’re really lucky, we’ll able to feast more than once next summer.

That is, unless the bears find a way to get inside.

Taking a break from the road means all sorts of advantages for us.

With a full-sized oven, we can make huge batches of Alton Brown’s Homemade Granola.

Revisiting favorite bric-a-brac brings back good memories.

and we eat really, really well because we have a huge fridge, freezer and pantry to store lots of good eats

All this cooking and lounging around is gonna make us fat.

Good thing there’s lot of manual labor to be done around here!

Dad, I know you don’t like sappy Hallmark cards like Mom does, so here’s a Father’s Day greeting I thought you’d appreciate more than a card . . .

What a rebel!

Did it ever occur to you when I was raising hell in high school, that you set a pretty good example for me? Hah!

I also found these drawings that show off your artistic talent. Some day you’re going to have to ‘splain them!

Have a great Father’s Day Dad.

What a thrill to see that Casiokids are Amazon’s “Free Download of the Day.”

Who are Casiokids you ask? Only one of the best bands we saw last year at South By Southwest in Austin! What a thrill to know that we saw this quirky, 80′s-style Norwegian techno group when they were unknowns here in the U.S., playing in a parking lot where they had to throw free beer into the audience to get people to show up.

Ok, gotta admit, the free beer is why we stayed to check ‘em out. But it worked! They left an impression on us, and we’re so glad to see they’re about to make it big here in the states.

Download their free MP3 and you’ll see why we loved them. Buy their vinyl album (or MP3s or CDs). Tell a friend. And remember, we saw them when they were nobody!

As a vegetarian since 1989, I’ve never liked rodeos.

The whole idea of tying up an animal or wrestling him to the ground for sport always just seemed appalling to me.

I had never actually seen a rodeo in person before, but all these years took PETA on its word that  “rodeos are nothing more than manipulative displays of human domination over animals, thinly disguised as entertainment.”

Skill or Stupidity? You Decide.

When we were in Sweetwater, we happened to camp out at the fairgrounds the same weekend the West Texas Rodeo Association was in town. For just the price of our campsite, we had the option of checking out two days worth of events, free. Jim assumed I would want to leave, or at least organize a protest. But something compelled me to check it out. Being a cheapskate I figured I had nothing to lose if I found it as horrible as I always heard it would be. At least I would know PETA wasn’t exaggerating. After all these years, this veggie-burger eatin’, sprout growin’ hippie was going to judge rodeos for herself, I thought.

We watched all sorts of amateur rodeo competitions, like chute dogging, where a contestant (always male, wonder why?) jumps into the steer’s chute and when the gates are opened, hangs on by the horns while the steer runs down the field and then the guy attempts to wrestle the animal to the ground within 30 seconds.

There was also goat tying, where brawny farm girls wearing feed caps ride into the stadium on a horse, dismount, then try to throw down and tie up a tethered goat as fast as possible.

Now, call me crazy, but I think it’s pretty unfair to prod a steer to run down a field, then twist his head nearly 360 degrees around until it falls down and call it sport. Or run after a terrified baby goat that’s screaming to get away, because he knows exactly what’s coming.

On the other hand, I also learned that other competitions like barrel racing or team roping were far more reflective of true skill. Team roping is when two contestants ride alongside a steer and one tries to throw a lasso around a horn while the other goes after the steer’s rear leg with a lasso. You try throwing a lasso at a moving target and see how easy it is. I know I can’t.

Respect All Life, Silly Cowpokes!

Clearly, in the bygone days of the Old West, many of these exercises were of a way of life for cowpokes on the ranch. These competitions weren’t just games, they were a necessary part of making a living. Seeing amateur rodeo gave me a tiny glimpse into that world, and for that reason I was glad I went.

I didn’t see any evidence of livestock mistreatment, but apparently PETA has lots of footage of rodeo animal abuse, and it’s rampant in big money competitions.

Still, so much of what I saw billed as “competition” was just mean, violent and unfair to the animals. I can only hope that in a world where many of us recognize the value in making cats and dogs part of our families, more people will adopt these same compassionate attitudes toward all creatures great and small, not just the ones we consider “pets.”

Judging by the few spectators at the Sweetwater rodeo, this might actually be happening. One can always hope, anyways.

The Law of Attraction is simple: like attracts like. I’ve found the theory to hold true when it comes to the kinds of people we meet in life.

In the early 90s, Jim and I were riding our motorcycles in the Bay Area when we met Nancy, an 80 year-old woman who was riding a Gold Wing.

I was dumbfounded that a woman her age was on a bike, but then she told me she used to be a World War II Ferry Pilot, which made motorcycling look like child’s play. As one of the few women bikers at the time, I felt an instant kinship with her.

To this day, her courageous spirit still influences my life, even on our trip across Texas.

Flying Across Texas Into WASP History

In World War II, while the men-folk were off fighting the war, a small group of gutsy women were recruited by the US Air Force to fly military planes from factories to air bases. They also towed targets on the back of these planes while male fighter pilots practiced firing at them with live ammunition!

About 2,000 WASPS trained at the Sweetwater, Texas airport and just over 1,000 women graduated as the first non-combat US military pilots, known as “WASPS” (Women Airforce Service Pilots). As non-combat pilots, these women freed up male pilots from “drudge work” so they could fight on the frontlines.

Nancy was one of these courageous gals. Even after the program was disbanded at the end of the war, she continued flying until one day when she decided to fly a small plane underneath the Golden Gate Bridge!  That’s when she was banned forever from flying. So instead she hopped on a bike and continued riding for decades.

A recent story about the WASPs on NPR reminded me of her. That’s when I also learned that the official WASP museum is located in Sweetwater, Texas, which happened to be on this year’s “Eating Across Texas” route. Jim and I were headed there to do another round of home cookin’ at Allen’s Fried Chicken, and once I heard the NPR story, I put the museum on our itinerary.

The WASP Museum: Frozen in Time

The WASP museum is housed in the original 1920s-era aircraft hanger where the WASPs trained.

Inside, a collection of memorabilia, video and props tells the story of these heroic women who came from all walks of life to train as pilots, for a meagre $150 a month salary.

The program was controversial and had its detractors but these women endured to become the first military pilots in the country.

But because the Air Force hired them as Civil Service employees, the WASPs never received military status or benefits because the war ended before a congressional act could be enacted to give them military recognition.

The WASPs were nearly forgotten in history until the 1970s, when the Navy announced that women would be allowed to fly combat planes. As more military women aspired to and became fighter pilots, the story of their WWII  predecessors was resurrected.

The WASPs Get their Props

Years went by until these courageous women were finally recognized by our government. Just a few months ago the WASPs received the Congressional Gold Medal in Washington.

WASP Pilot Betty Wahl Strohfus, pictured getting her medal, is one of just 300 surviving WASPs.

I don’t know what happened to Nancy, but my memory of our run-in has always stayed dear to my heart. I can’t help but think that much of my good fortune in life comes from that chance encounter I had with such a courageous soul who wasn’t afraid of taking chances. She influenced me more than she’ll ever know.

Seeing the actual spot in Sweetwater where she and so many brave women earned their pilots wings will always serve to inspire myself (and many, many other women) toward more adventure in our lifetimes.