live. work. dream.

It’s time for the annual NuRVers Gathering of Friends!

NuRVers is a group of young, non-retired RVers living the dream life now, instead of waiting for a someday that may never happen. We come from a variety of backgrounds but all share one thing in common; the desire to live an adventurous life on the open road.

Come join us in Gonzales, Texas in April for good times and great people! Last year’s inaugural  gathering was a blast, we know this year’s will be even better.

Space is limited. Sign up today!

Our San Francisco days have been on our minds. Yesterday would have been our friend Spoonie’s 49th birthday.

Back in the day, his birthday celebration might have consisted of us sitting on the floor in his room eating a calzone. Then we would’ve persuaded him to get a drink at the Gold Cane. Once there, Spoonie would drink just long enough for Jim and I to get loud and talky with others. As soon as we turned away, he would pull his disappearing act and walk home down Haight Street, alone. Drinking in public just wasn’t his style.

Those days are long past, and our old city friends like Kris (Spoonie) all fled for other pastures. Which sucks, because we just learned that two very cool friends of ours, Rhodester and Coffeesister, are in dire need of a place to live in San Francisco.

They have to be out of their current place at the end of this week, and they have nowhere to go.

Rhodester and Coffeesister Want a Place to Live, Now!

Jim and I keep wracking our brains, trying to figure out if we know anyone who might have a room open in their house or know somebody who does, but we’re drawing a blank. So we’re asking you all to spread the word.

Rhodester (Dave) was laid off over a year ago, and  is collecting unemployment while job-seeking in SF. He’s a writer in real life but is looking for anything in hospitality or security to pay the bills. He’s also damn funny, and has previously been a professional mime, performer and radio personality. Coffeesister (Dorian) is a kind-hearted woman with a sharp pen who is also battling auto-immune issues without any health insurance coverage.

They’re looking for a room to rent, and they don’t need anything fancy. Wifi would be nice, as Dave works online. For now they’ll take what we can get as long as it’s in the City, and is accepting of their two very clean and awesome cats.

If Spoonie were here, I know he would open his gigantic heart and offer them a place to stay, even if was just on his couch. Like drinking at the bar, saying “no” to someone in need wasn’t his thing.

Do you happen to know anyone in San Francisco who’s as kind, and has a place for this awesome couple to rent? Humor and good company is included with their deposit.

Since childhood I have always had a taste for the finer things in life. I remember being about 11 years old when my parents would take us out for dinner at a favorite Italian restaurant, I would order the prawn scampi. Fresh lobster is another all time favorite. I will never forget my mother telling me, on many more than one occasion, that I have Champagne tastes on a beer budget.

Believe me, I still yearn for the taste of those finer things. But my budget is more suited for sparkling water now, and I do not mean Perrier either. After stretching our one-year roadtrip budget to last nearly three years, and making frequent reality checks on the savings we are still spending, I have become quite good at letting those tastes linger on my palate praetendere.

In years past we have enjoyed Moët & Chandon on New Year’s eve, though Cristal was my favorite. But in past years, we used to actually make money too! This year, it was Trader Joe’s finest. And that’s OK. Long ago, I came to terms with getting what you pay for, and paying for what you get. Yes, those finer things in life taste good, but they never last long enough. There was even a time when spending over $100 on a bottle of bubbly made me feel good, but that was when we could afford such things. Now I know what matters most is the memories.

Friendship, good health and good times. Happiness, well being, comfort and prosperity.

These are the things we toasted to ring in the new year with our good friends Martha and Ralph and the Oaktown pack. And these things are what we wish upon all our friends and family. Keeping in mind, that is, to prosper need not necessarily require being wealthy.

I for one, will take my debt-free lifestyle with a sip of California sparkling wine over an upside down mortgage and French Champagne any day. Cheers!

Back when Lilla and Neal visited us at Jerry’s Acres, Neal suggested that we were in for a winter of heavy snow. His reasoning was based on a news story he had seen about the local Skunk Cactus — or at least he thinks that’s what the newscaster called this weed, and I think that’s what he called it.

Neal mentioned how the height at which the seed pods begin is an indication of that season’s snowfall depth. Based on a recent weather report from home, sent to us by Codie Rae’s people, I’m starting to believe him…

Red Feather Lakes: Snow and areas of blowing snow before midnight, then snow likely and areas of blowing snow after midnight. Low around 14. Wind chill values as low as -5. North northwest wind between 14 and 16 mph, with gusts as high as 25 mph. Chance of precipitation is 90%. Total nighttime snow accumulation of 5 to 9 inches possible.

Needless to say, I believe we left just in time. Based on the reports we’re getting from back home, we would have likely been stuck there quite a while – if not all winter – had we not pulled away when we did. That, or we would have been digging out the trailer to hit the road.

But we haven’t exactly headed to warmer climes, yet. Our second night here in Fernley, our hose froze. We had forgotten to leave a faucet dripping overnight. Keeping the water moving through the hose will help it from freezing solid and ensure you have running water in the morning. Insulating the hose with foam pipe-wrap available in the plumbing section of any home supply store also helps. As does having water in your fresh water tank as a backup.

How quickly we forget these things after staying put for a few months. I remember first seeing an RVer fuss with a frozen hose at a riverside park in Ashville, NC two years ago and laughing. The other morning it was my turn. After struggling to thaw things out enough to get our water flowing, we have now practiced these precautionary measures I preach. Good thing René hadn’t yet begun her early morning shifts at the Amazon warehouse!

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.

What’s going on here? Neal is saving Jim from having a panic attack.

I must thank this former mechanic for his quick thinking. After trying desperately to find a level spot on their property to put our trailer, we realized the spot I had chosen was a bit too steep. It would have been OK if I parked facing uphill, but we like to face northwest for best solar positioning. But that’s another post.

So what happened? All the bumps and maneuvering must have dislodged a retainer bolt from the shaft between our two front leveling jacks. We didn’t realize this until I was raising the trailer to hitch back up, and noticed only one leg was lifting. The other was planted firmly in the ground. OK, no need to panic, we found the bolt and replaced it in the shaft that keeps both legs moving in unison.

So what’s this about quick thinking? Neal immediately asked if I had a tape measure. Since one leg had already raised, we needed to return it to the same length as the other before securing the shaft. I probably would have discovered this only after retracting the legs all the way. Well, at least one of them.

By measuring the planted leg, and extending the other until it matched, we were able to replace the bolt just once. Thanks again Neal. Once a mechanic always a mechanic, I guess.

When we passed through Louisiana last year, we got a taste of the New Orleans night life. But even though we spent time with a crawfish farmer in Creole country, we never got to experience the true flavor of the deep south.

We had to wait until we got all the way back up to Colorado for some authentic crawfish étouffée and fried catfish. Huh?

Yup. Our friends Lilla and Neal hail from Colorado Springs but have deep roots in Lousiana. And when we discovered they just purchased their own little piece of paradise near Westcliffe, CO, we decided to meet these fun folks and find out what developing some raw land is really like. Being treated to some serious southern fare for dinner was an added bonus.

Lilla and Neal have connections back home who send them provisions unavailable in the Rockies, like blue crab claws, fresh gulf shrimp, and crawfish. And while I refuse to call crawfish “seafood” – They live in the mud! – I will admit they are quite tasty. Especially how Neal prepared them in a rich étouffée which must have contained about six sticks of butter.

Apparently, the secret to good étouffée is a good roux. And Neal’s secret is that he found a good roux in a jar. Oops! Sorry, secret no more. But seriously, preparing roux is difficult, and it’s not the type of intensive food preparation one undertakes in a pop-up tent trailer. And neither is fried catfish, but they did. And I’m glad they did.

It is now obvious that the trick to good fried catfish is coating the fillets with mustard before dredging them in seasoned flour. Then frying them fast, in lots of hot oil, which Neal did outside on a camping grill.

We tried frying fish in our trailer once and the smell lingered for about a week. Kinda like how this rich meal lingered with us long after Lilla and Neal left us to hang out on their property while we continued our search for a little paradise of our own. We didn’t need to eat again for days. But we did, because they left us with the leftovers.

While we waited to become Texans, we made a quick trip to Jemez Springs, New Mexico to hook up with an old friend from Eureka. Dave gets the prize for traveling the farthest (by car) to meet us on our journey so far. And after putting 35,000+ miles on our truck a few hundred miles is never out of the way for friends.

We spent a few quiet nights all alone, along a stream at Fenton Lake State Park. Then the weekend brought a slew of serious partyers who enjoyed speeding around the campground kicking up dust. C’mon, they really couldn’t walk the 1/4 mile to the lake? Oh, there I go digressing again.

Before Dave showed up René and I found a popular natural hot spring nearby. Way to popular. Then we discovered the private hot springs in town were way too private – bathtubs we could rent for $15 per hour, per person.

After connecting with the park ranger who grew up near her old hometown, René found out where to go once Dave arrived. We could tell you exactly where these awesome hot springs are, but then we’d have to kill you. We promised the ranger we wouldn’t tell. But perhaps you can figure it out…

A short drive from Fenton Lake, the three of us hiked four miles down a closed forest service road. Across the river and up the hill are a series of crystal clear pools fed from a natural hot spring. The water was hot and refreshing, the views spectacular. We were all alone. The only thing wrong was the four mile hike back to the truck.