live. work. dream.

The cold desert winds here at Anza Borrego Park in Southern California are making us stir crazy and insane, but we’re sticking around until our mail arrives by general delivery at the post office.

We also want to visit the Borrego Springs Friday Farmer’s Market one more time.

The local farmers have the most luscious selection of produce, including this weird, local Cherimoya fruit that I’ve never seen before (which is odd because I’m a SoCal native!). I think I’ll crack open my wallet and try it. It must be good if it’s that spendy, right? 

I also want to stock up on the local Fuerte avocados. They only appear in wintertime, and you can’t get them anywhere else because they don’t ship well. You’ve never had a great avocado until you’ve had a Fuerte.

If there’s one thing I miss about SoCal besides my family, it’s the buttery, yummy flavor of the Fuerte. My parents have a tree in their L.A. yard that blossoms during wintertime. Growing up, I had enough guacamole to bathe in.

Jim, meanwhile, is having fantasies about the locally grown tri-tip he saw last week. Maybe he can share it with Wyatt. Anyone else care to indulge in carnivore ecstasy, feel free to stop by.

We’ve been in Southern California longer than we anticipated, but even I, a recovering Angeleno, will admit that the  south end of the state has great winter weather and the best produce in America.

Borrego Springs is a funky, neat little town. I told Jim that maybe we should consider buying a cheap piece of land here to winter in. But then he reminded me; this is California. Nothing’s cheap. And with Moonbeam running for governor, the State’s really in trouble now! We’d better get out soon before we get taxed for breathing.

Wanted: Chief librarian for Slab City Lizard Tree Library. Must be literate, love books, the desert climate, live in own RV and enjoy colorful characters of all types. Pay is non-existent but the fulfillment of running this institution is something money can’t buy. Job starts today.

What began as a final trip to the Slab City Library yesterday has turned into a devastating discovery. This one-of-a-kind institution is on the verge of collapse.

Sunday afternoon I arrived with some DVDs to donate, only to find piles of books thrown around, and an angry look on the face of Ron, the chief librarian. All of the doors to the place had also been removed, the sign had disappeared from the parking lot, and the book donation shelves were gone. He even took our Internut access away.

I was stunned, and asked Ron, “Uh, what happened to the shelves?”

His eyes were filled with rage as he said “I’m sick of picking up after people and their dog shit! I’ve had it! If they want to trash this place they can have it!”

I asked “But….what’s going to happen here?”

Ron said, “It’s a self-serve library from now on. People can take care of it themselves. I’m done!” and he stormed out.

Three years ago, Ron arrived just after the founder of the library died. He was enthusiastic about keeping it going, and moved in next door. He took the wheels off his motorhome, set up an encampment, and went about the business of becoming chief librarian. He’s done an incredible job. Every time I went there, new books had been shelved, more fun knicknacks appeared and the floor was always clean.

But apparently the slobs around here made him snap. Or maybe it the 120 degree summertime temperatures. But last week he threw up his hands and surrendered. Now, this treasure is at risk of becoming just another trash heap in the last free place in America.

I’m so devastated, it kept me awake last night. I love libraries, and this is a rare find in America. It’s killing me that we’re supposed to leave for Anza Borrego tomorrow.

Today I made the “Save the Libaray!” sign and posted it inside, hoping that more people might care enough to stop taking the library for granted. Maybe we can change Ron’s mind about quitting.

I guess I’ll have to wait until next year to find out what happens next.

And if nobody wants the job, I just might apply when we return.

Slab City: love it or hate it.

Lovers are tolerant individuals who respect the many different lifestyle choices here. Haters just can’t seem to turn away from the trash heaps and shiftless drifters, and usually depart within 24 hours.

One might assume that Slab City Lovers are younger folks on the fringes of society, but as our neighbor Bernie demonstrates, that just ain’t so.

Bernie and his wife are snowbirds, spending summers in Washington and winters here at the Slabs.

He built this RV himself, handles all of his own rig maintenance, and is building a new cottage by hand back in Washington. A former HVAC repair man, he spends his afternoons lounging and riding his ATV around the desert. He and his wife have been vegan for the last 40 years.

Bernie is 80 years old. His wife is 75. They’re just one example of the many reasons why we love staying at kooky places like Slab City.

Because you just never know who’s going to rock your world here, like Don the musician.

We hit the road yesterday for the first time since early December. And as with all first days on the road, things didn’t go quite as smoothly as we would have liked. We are definitely rusty.

First, we missed our exit to the Slabs, and almost ended up in Quartzsite. Drove about 25 miles out of our way.

Next, when we were in search of water, we took a wrong turn and drove another 10 miles in the opposite direction. The small road we were on was so flooded from the recent rains, we couldn’t find a dry enough place to turn around.

Once we got to the Slabs, I opened up our door, and saw hummus everywhere. Good thing the flour didn’t spill too!

As I proceeded to clean up the mess, Jim tried to turn on the Motosat dish. Guess what? That pain in the ass dish is acting up again, and won’t go up. Thank Dog we have Internet redundancy with our MiFi setup. If we couldn’t get online to manage Tripawds, we would be on our way to the nearest service shop. Apparently our F2 motor is dead . . . again.

All this, during our first day back on the road. In the past, I might have fallen apart at so many mishaps in one day. Because when you’re new on the road, multiple screw ups in one day happen a lot, and they can be upsetting. At least to me they were. Jim’s always been a little better about not letting them get him down.

But after almost three years on the road, I’m happy to say that we are both able to handle these things with a smile.

A few cocktails also work wonders.  Good thing we’re stocked up.

MotoSAT’s answer for any connectivity issues with our mobile satellite internet system always seems to be, “Upgrade your firmware.”

So, I always make it a point to make sure ours is current before calling for support. I also turn to others for help. Like Sean who had this advice regarding the best positioning for quick access…

“Try increasing the size of the search window, especially in azimuth. The internal compass, like all compasses, is prone to a lot of error, and sometimes even the declination table is off. So it is possible that the bird is sitting there a few degrees outside the window, and the mount will search the whole window first, before expanding to a broader search.

Calibrating the compass also helps – the real way, which involves turning the rig around an exact 180° – especially if it has not been done in a while.

Lastly, be aware that if you park such that the bird is nearly directly above the way the dish points when stowed (usually directly aft), then the dish will search all possible elevations at a few degrees azimuth before spinning all the way around to try all the elevations at ~360° azimuth. This can add significant time to the search. We try to avoid parking in this orientation, and, if we want to stop someplace just to put the dish up, I even try to park such that the bird will be found in the first ~90° of azimuth – saves time and wear on the drive motor.”

Well, it turns out that compass calibration isn’t even possible with our dish. One expert installer informed us that only older systems have a compass.

But we recently tested Sean’s parking position theory when it took forever for our system to identify any signal. We had inadvertently parked with 91W directly to the rear of our rig. Sure enough, when we relocated and parked pointing a little more West, we were online within a couple minutes. This position works best for us anyway, especially when boondocking. Doing so prevents the dish’s large shadow from covering our solar panel throughout the day.

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.

You meet all kinds on the road, especially if you like to camp on the cheap in free (or almost free) places, like the Greeley Missile Silo Campground where we stayed for a few weeks, in Greeley Colorado.

I found this $5 a night campground in FreeCampgrounds.com. It’s located far enough off the freeway that there’s not a lot of noise, and what made it especially appealing, other than the price, is it is literally located in farmland, and sits right atop a decommissioned missile silo. You can even go on a free tour given by the caretaker, and go deep into the bowels of this creepy military space.

As one of the only cheap boondocking spots between Loveland and Fort Collins, it’s a central place to stay for a night or two. But we pushed the limits of our tolerance for cheap RV camping spots, and stayed here for almost 3 weeks while we started our real estate search.

It was mostly quiet, but one afternoon, we crossed paths with another camper, a sketchy character who had been staying at the park in a tent. She stumbled out of the bathroom and short of breath, asked me to call 911. I screamed at Jim to get the cell phone. As he went to get it, her likewise sketchy boyfriend showed up, and told Jim “Oh don’t bother, she’s just been drinking. She does this all the time.”

Meanwhile, the woman collapsed on the grass, writhing and clutching her chest as if she’s having a heart attack. In short quick breaths she tells me “I . . . can’t . . breathe! Get him away from me!”

Jim is stunned. I grabbed the phone and dialed. We didn’t know if this was going to turn into a domestic violence episode or what, but I made the call, not wanting to take the chance that this woman was really going to croak.

While we waited for the paramedics, we realized that both she and her boyfriend were loaded, and both reeked so bad, like they had just hijacked a truck full of MadDog 20/20.

When the EMTs showed up, Jim and I ran inside the trailer. From the window, we watched them go through the motions of attempting to treat the woman. After a while we realized that they were weren’t moving too quickly, and were actually smirking at each other while the drunken woman was still on the ground. It was obvious there was nothing wrong with her, other than alcoholism.

She demanded that they take her to the hospital, and the EMTs complied. They took her away in the ambulance, while her boyfriend was questioned by the cops.

Suddenly, the lure of cheap camping had worn on my nerves. The next day after learning we didn’t get that dream property, I had a meltdown. Five dollars a night or not, I was done with that park, and wanted out.

Once we left the Missile Silo campground, I was actually relieved to be paying $500 a month rent at a KOA campground in Wellington, just north of Fort Collins. As much as I hate KOAs for all of the franchised predictability they represent, my paranoia slowly disappeared as summer kicked off and hoards of happy RVers started rolling in.

We’ll be hanging out in this trailer park with slightly more conventional people for the duration of summer, or until we find our ideal piece of land in the nearby mountains. This park is way more expensive and it reeks of the feedlot down the road, but at least it has a pool, and no bum fights either.

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.

Our photos of the cool rig Johan and Dianne de Koe call home started an interesting discussion about this DAF Expedition Vehicle. A few people chipped in saying they spotted the nice couple, and one even researched their specs.

You can do that from the Dutch license plate which, it turns out, may cause trouble back home. If they ever return.

Johan and Dianne have been on the road – primarily off roads – for years. The box they live in has everything you might need. And with a kitchen, bathroom, solar power and plenty of water, they can go anywhere they want, except perhaps downtown.

We met the couple and got the grand tour while boondocking at Lake Amistad, where we sent them off with our maps of Big Bend. They shared with us stories of worldwide travel in their DAF, and how they picked it up for a “bargain” – brand new, after it sat in Dutch military storage for ten years without ever seeing any action.

It’s easy to identify these folks and their awesome rig, what with Bibendum riding proud up front. They were spotted in Prescott, AZ on their way to Overland Expo in April by the Overland Journal owner / publisher who posted more detailed DAF photos on Expedition Portal.

We’re always on the lookout for cool rigs and campers, so we couln’t resist this photo opportunity at Amistad. Once that is, we realized Johan was not actually the military official we presumed he was before we saw their plates.

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.