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?

Epic road trips are the stuff that great drinking stories are made of. But few of us have the skill to turn those tall tales into a full-length novel, and keep people laughing till they snort so hard their beer spews out their nose.

David Jerome is the exception, in his road trip adventure tale, Roastbeef’s Promise: When Your Dad’s Dying Wish Is to Have His Ashes Sprinkled in Each State, What’s a Son to Do?

A stand-up comedian and former comedy writer for Jay Leno and other Hollywood comedians, Jerome shares the mishaps and adventures that happened to him on his travels across America in the mid ’90s. Slightly autobiographical and mostly so strange that you can’t possibly believe this stuff actually happened to him, Jerome tells the tale of Roastbeef, a shiftless, broke college student with an older father who’s ridden with Alzheimers. But Roastbeef’s dad isn’t just any old patient suffering from dementia. No, this guy truly believes he’s Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Shouting presidential orders from his hospital bed, Roastbeef’s dear old Dad demands that upon his death, Roastbeef must spread his ashes in “all 48 states” (remember, there were only 48 states in FDR’s time). Always the dutiful son, Roastbeef humors his Dad and halfheartedly agrees to it. But when Dad finally dies, Roastbeef rises to the occasion and takes up the cause of keeping this unusual deathbed promise.

He sets out in his crappy college-student car to literally dust every state with his Dad’s cremains. But hitting the road without much money presents challenges, and Roastbeef doggedly pursues his mission on everything from a moped to freight trains, while working odd jobs across America to help him fulfill it.

From the time Roastbeef unknowingly befriends a pot dealer and gets thrown in the slammer, to hitching rides with pregnant brides and psychopaths, to being coerced into visiting a Tiajuanna whorehouse with his Dad’s old military buddy, Jerome’s dry humor never runs out of gas.

In the back of the book, Jerome promises that if any reader takes a photo of him or herself holding “Roastbeef’s Promise” in any of the specific locations mentioned in this story, they’ll get a free Roastbeef’s Promise t-shirt for their efforts. So because I’m tightwad looking for a freebie, here I am at Colorado State University in Fort Collins, where Jerome spent a couple of weeks couch surfing with frat boys.

I really loved Roastbeef’s Promise, and not just for the free t-shirt offer either. Get your copy today, or, before October 30th, send me an email along with your funniest road trip story (which we get to publish on our blog). In return, you can have my almost new copy (hey I have limited space in my rig, I’m happy to give it away). If we have more than one person who enters, we’ll draw a random name.

For information about Jerome, check out Facebook/roastbeefspromise.com

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.

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.

Last Fall as we left Colorado and headed to the Tetons and Yellowstone for Jerry’s final road trip adventure, we stopped in Fort Collins for lunch. A friend from Portland told us it was a cool place to live, and I thought that if a Portlander paid a compliment to the city, it must be something special.

And it is. Located north of Denver in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, this city’s vibrant downtown, thriving business community, bikeability, excellent university and great breweries immediately pulled us in, and has been calling us back ever since.

Nine months later, we have returned to scout the nearby mountains for Jerry’s land.

When we fell under the spell of this “Best Places” city, I didn’t know it at the time, but my long lost cousin, Robert (aka “Son”) Chavez lives here. He found me on FaceBook and we started communicating again for the first time since we were kids.

Our families have such a long history that even though we aren’t blood relatives, we still call each other “cousins.” Our Dads have known each other since the 1950s, and our families shared a lot of good times and camping trips while growing up. As life went on and we got older, our Dads still remained close, but the rest of us eight kids scattered about to live our lives.

When I found out that Son and his partner Steven, are Fort Collins locals, I was thrilled. When I learned that Steven’s sister and brother in law, Mike and Marie, are well-established real estate agents here, I was ecstatic. Then, I learned that one of my dearest friends, Renee, is moving here from California, and I’ve been giddy ever since! We are determined to find our mountain property somewhere within 1 hour of the city.

What a find. We have family and friends here, and we love the fact that we can get lost in the Rockies yet still so close to such an aweseome town. It’s everything we’ve been looking for.

After two years of searching, it really feels like our destiny is written here. Now, if we could only find that property . . .

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.

Forget what the Department of Homeland Security says. Not all border crossings are identical. Each point of entry seems to have its own quirks about what proves you’re a citizen.

In Douglas Arizona, we sashayed into Mexico on foot. The crossing was free, and we showed our California driver’s licenses as proof of nationality.

In Del Rio, Texas, crossing over on foot wasn’t so easy.

First, we had to walk a mile out of the way because of the stupid border fence construction. Then, we were forced to pay seventy five cents per person, just to walk across a mile long bridge over the Rio Grande, and into Mexico. Upon our return, we had to pay again, then show our birth certificates and driver’s licenses to the border patrol. Good thing we took ‘em, because there was no indication that they were required on the U.S. side when we went into Mexico. After June 1st, supposedly everyone will need a passport.

During our long walk over the bridge into Mexico, an old Mexican man was walking in front of us, carrying grocery bags. A guy in a pickup pulled over to offer him a ride into town. It took us a second to realize that he was also offering us a ride. The old guy got in, but we said “No gracias.” This was one of those situations in which we really wanted to believe in the best of humanity, but just couldn’t bring ourselves to take him up on the offer, with all of the borderlands violence we’ve heard about.

Was crossing over for the day worth it? Not really. We could’ve had the same experience in the nearest Texas ghetto. And like my Dad says, border towns aren’t the real Mexico. They’re so geared toward tourists that any trace of authenticity is gone.

Well, not everything. You’ll still find potholed streets, dirty air, crumbling sidewalks and hooker bars. But keep in mind that if you go, you’re going to get harassed beyond belief by aggressive storekeepers who are obviously hurting because of the U.S. recession.

As far as the reported threats of violence in border towns, we never once felt like we were in any danger, but then again, we didn’t venture too far out of the fake touristy areas, or take rides with strangers.

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.

We are quickly approaching our two year anniversary of being on the road, and we have no intention of stopping. We’ll keep traveling and working seasonally around the country, but we’d still like to park occasionally on our own piece of land.

Our plan is to buy a small parcel in Colorado, and another one somewhere in Texas. Still, we’re keeping our options open as far as locations go. On our way to Texas, we stopped in three towns I’ve heard a lot of good things about.

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