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.

We’ve always wanted to go RVing in Mexico. I have a long lost cousin in the beautiful small town of Cuernavaca, and I know other RVers who’ve spent long beautiful winters in Mexico. But when the border violence started escalating, we heeded warnings from friends and family and stayed away.

This year we tempted fate, and on a whim headed to Organ Pipe National Monument in Arizona, which is spitting distance from the Mexican border. It’s a beautiful park, much like Big Bend in Texas, but with more plant diversity (in my un-scientific opinion).

Being the low-budget travelers that we are, we camped at a remote free BLM campground outside of the park, and saw this warning as soon as we pulled in.

While we’ve heard rumors about immigration and drug running routes going through this park, we took this sign as more government hype.

That is until about 11 pm on our first night, when we saw a truck speeding through the campground, cruising around, obviously looking for someone.

While there were at least 5 other RVs in the park, it was a little disconcerting to think that really illegal activity was actually going on right outside our trailer. But with the swarms of border patrol agents hanging out in the area, we slept OK.

The next day we went on a long walk out into the desert and saw tons of beautiful plants and flowers. Later in the afternoon, I read about the murder of a prominent Arizona rancher that happened the previous day, about 200 miles from us in Douglas. The rancher’s murder has inflamed the anger of locals in the area who want more security. I can’t blame them.

The was the first border murder on U.S. soil since park ranger Kris Eggle was killed in 2002 while on duty near the park.

At the border town of Lukeville, we saw many RVers coming back from Mexico. I was partly jealous, partly thinking “those guys are NUTS!”

So what I want to know is, just how much of what we hear about the violence in Mexico is exaggerated by the media, and how much is real?

I want to talk to other RVers who’ve gone there in the last year, and find out what their experience was. Traveling south is something we really want to do, and I’m getting antsy to make this trek, possibly next winter.

Anyone with any feedback on recent RV experiences in Mexico, I’d love to hear about it.

When you RV, you always learn something new. Whether it’s about how to avoid dropping weird stuff down the toilet,  or learning new boondocking tips, you’re always growing.

When we met Kelly and Al last winter in New Mexico, I couldn’t believe we had been on the road almost two years and didn’t know about the Escapees Day’s End Directory. We were on our way to Texas to join Escapees because we knew about all of their perks, but we didn’t know about this one until Al and Kelly (aka The Bayfield Bunch) told us about it.

The Day’s End Directory is a comprehensive collection of practically every low cost and free boondocking spot in North America, compiled by the folks who know best, Escapees members. For just $5, you can join this private Escapees group, the Day’s End Yahoo Group, and gain access to the directory. It has literally thousands of locations of free and cheap campsites, and members update the information regularly.

The only downside to the Day’s End Directory is that it’s created in oldschool format. The book is available as a CD or .rtf file only, and you need to rifle through about 500 pages to find locations by state and city. It’s laborious and time consuming, and cost-prohibitive to print. To get around that, I created a PDF of the Western states we are visiting this year, and sent the file to Kinkos for printing. It cost me $12 to print CA, AZ, NM and TX.

I hope some day the Escapees powers that be will pay a young geek to  take over the project and convert the listings to some kind of searchable database like our friend’s Jenn and Johnny’s FreeCampsites.net.

But until then, this behemoth book is still the best money you’ll spend if you like to get out into the wild, or just need an approved, safe place to crash for the night.

A few people have been surprised to learn that we came to Nevada because I took a job for The Great Satan*. Yes, a J.O.B. It’s true; I’m working for the man again. I’m another cog in the machine. Punching a clock, drooling over that carrot they dangle over our heads called a “paycheck.”

A few months ago thanks to our friends at NuRVers, I learned about the seasonal job opportunities available at Great Satan locations around the country. Everywhere from Delaware to Las Vegas, thousands of little elves spring up out of nowhere and take over the company’s million-square foot warehouses to fulfill all of those holiday season orders for consumers.

The hours are grueling and so is the work. But the money is great and I’m really thankful to have this opportunity during such an awful economy.

Originally we were going to Kansas,where most fulltime RVing workampers go. But a few weeks ago, thanks to Jenn at HiTek Homeless, I learned about the Satan gig in Fernley, Nevada, just outside of Reno and south of the road to Burning Man. So we pointed West instead of East, and will be here until Christmas.

I’ll be punching a clock, while Jim stays home to run our Internet endeavors and babysit Wyatt the Wild Dawg. Tomorrow is my employee orientation, and then I start working ten-hour days next week.

Meanwhile, as all of you consider your holiday purchases this year, remember all of the bargains that Satan has to offer! And when you shop, please help us out by starting here with our link, so we can get an additional cut on the action!

*Recently I was told that I signed a Non-Disclosure Agreement which stated I cannot disclose anything about the Great Satan’s company or work conditions. Therefore, the real name of this company has been changed in all blog posts.

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.

I was bad last month and forgot to post our road trip expenditures, so here’s two months worth, April and May, check our a PDF of our RV Road Trip Expenses for April and May 2009.

Some of our biggest expenses in those months weren’t really suprises, just the unpleasant realities of what it costs to maintain a fulltime RVing rig, such as $823 to repack the trailer wheel bearings, four new tires, a water heater repair and $111 on truck maintenance.

April also included paying taxes and our CPA, and $200 to join Escapees. Our phone bill went up, because we dropped our Virgin Mobile account after getting sick of their poor coverage in rural areas. Now we have Verizon, which gives us better service, but at a higher cost. Finally, all of these expenses seemed to have led heavy drinking because we overspent on booze again!

With these hefty spending months behind us, we’re hoping for some low budget months ahead. The plan is to find some land, get our remaining stuff out of storage in CA and bring it to Colorado, and then camp for “free” on our own property until the snow files.

Recently, two friends hit the road. Being new to the RV lifestyle, they asked us if we can name one practical thing that we packed, which just can’t live without. After giving it some thought, we figured it out:

Our cast iron skillets.

Back in our stick house, we had a whole collection of Griswold and Lodge Cast Iron Cookwear. But seeing as they’re kind of heavy, we decided to bring just two of our favorites. We packed our 10″ chef’s pan, and an omlette pan, in addition to one fancy Calphalon pan that we rarely use.

Cast iron is so versatile, and not very expensive. You can use these pans for stovetop cooking, baking, broiling and even over a campfire. And because you don’t need a lot of water to clean them up, they’re great for boondocking. Our Calphalon pan isn’t nearly that versatile.

Best. Cookwear. Ever.

Being a fulltime RVer is great, because if you miss something good, you can always go back to it again.

Last year we missed the Texas Cowboy Poetry Gathering in the West Texas town of Alpine, by just one week. This year, we hightailed it back in time.

The YouTube playlist below includes six movies Jim made from all the footage I shot of performers including Doris Daley, Jeff Gore, Dale and Brittany Burson, Sam Noble and Gail Steiger;

At 23 years and going strong, the Alpine Cowboy Poetry Gathering is the second oldest in America, just one year behind the much larger Elko, Nevada festival. I’ve always wanted to make it to Elko, but it takes place in January, and being in an RV during Elko’s frozen winter isn’t my idea of a good time. Guess that makes me a real city slicker.

Alpine’s vaqueros though, they know when, and how, to hold a festival for wimps like me. While much smaller than Elko’s, Alpine’s is better in my book. The weather’s awesome, the overall price of attending is more affordable, the performers are accessible, and to me, the atmosphere feels a lot more authentic than Elko, which isn’t the nicest town in the world.

The only bummer is that the poetry and music sessions are held on a college campus, and we wish they would’ve had some in bars or in a campfire setting.

Jim isn’t a huge fan of cowboy poetry like I am, but he patiently endured the festival so he could get a good dinner or two out of it (and he did!).

We both fell in love with the town of Alpine itself. It’s small but not too small, real estate is affordable, and the high desert scenery can’t be beat. We plan on heading back there to look for our winter Texas property in the fall.

Texas is being good to us, and we love it here. Never in a million years did we think we would say this. As native West Coasters, we fell for the popular snotty stereotype about the Lone Star State: that it’s flat, boring, full of rednecks and the only redeeming thing about it is Austin.

Now that we’ve been to the Great State two times in the last year, we just want to say; We were wrong. Sorry Texas!

The most peaceful, relaxing drives we’ve had in the last two years have been along the back roads of West Texas. The land here is as varied and beautiful as anything we’ve seen in our travels. Nowhere else in the United States can you drive through such wide open spaces and see vistas that go on for miles, without a single inhabitant except for a herd of cows. Tall rock formations line the horizon against a deep blue sky, and even if you’ve seen “No Country for Old Men,” Hollywood still can’t come close to replicating this kind of beauty. One visit to Big Bend National Park, and you’ll see for yourself how stunning this country is:

We haven’t been to a national park since saying goodbye to Jerry in Yellowstone. Coming here felt somewhat like a betrayal to our baby, since the last time we set out to do the tourist thing was with him.

But I knew if we didn’t go to Big Bend now, years might go by before we had the opportunity to go again. Since it was “only” 240 miles out of the way from our next destination, the Texas Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Alpine, and diesel is hella cheap in Texas, we went for it.

Arriving at the park and hitting the trails without him didn’t seem right at first. But after a day of sweating in the blazing sun, and getting stabbed by cacti on the trail, I realized that Jerry probably would’ve hated this kind of terrain, which helped my pangs of guilt to subside.