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We screwed up our courage and headed over to the two 10x13 storage units that we rented way back in June 2005, the month we sold our house.
For comfort and convenience, we took the Airstream with us. This allowed us to compare what we had in the trailer with stuff we found in storage, and of course it gave us a convenient place to take breaks and get cold drinks from the refrigerator.
I had thought the process would be straightforward, but it wasn't. We were immediately overwhelmed by the sheer volume of "STUFF" we had stored. When we left on our trip last October, the idea was to come back in 6 or 7 months and build a house. Along the way, the plan changed, and so when we got back to see what we had left behind, it was more than a little shocking.
Houses allow you to accumulate stuff, and big houses like our previous one can accumulate a LOT of stuff. We have everything in storage that you can imagine: housewares, linens, clothes, toys, books, appliances, furniture, bicycles, office equipment, tools, pictures ... and so much more, you just can't believe it until you see it. Despite the fact that we spent months in spring 2005 giving stuff away, selling things, and throwing stuff out, there is still an amazing amount of just plain worthless STUFF in our two 10x13 storage units.
And it's costing a pile of money to keep it there. In fact, I would be surprised if the used market value of everything in both units exceeds $10,000. Yet our cost to store it all for the past year has been over $3,000. This is obviously nonsensical from a financial standpoint.
A lot of the stuff seemed to have sentimental value when we stored it. Some pieces seemed like they were worth keeping because the cost of replacing them later would have been much higher. And many other things were just "too good" to give away or throw away.
But now our perspective is different. It has been a year and we haven't needed 90% of it. We haven't missed 98% of it. Our lifestyles are lighter now, my office is leaner now, our plans are different now. If we build a new place it probably won't be close by, so it may be cheaper to buy new things than to transport all this across the country. The "stuff" needs to find a new home.
We started in on the piles but it was too much to tackle in one day. Tomorrow we'll be calling auction houses, cleanout services, used furniture stores, Goodwill, and anyone else we can think of. It took years to accumulate all these things and it will clearly take at least weeks or months to get rid of most of it. Anyone need a nice three-piece set of black walnut living room furniture, a collection of old Polaroid cameras, or a unicycle?
Home at last. We are parked, temporarily, in the driveway of one of our longest-term neighbors. Mary L happens to have a nice straight long driveway and she was happy to lend it to us tonight so we wouldn't have to go searching for a campground. I grew up two houses away from here, and lived on this street from 1966 through 1981, so courtesy parking my Airstream at the neighbor's house really is a new twist on "coming home."
Mary L and my mother greeting the Tour of America
Emma is having a long-awaited sleepover with her grandmother tonight. Eleanor and I are preparing for a lot of tasks we need to complete while we are in Vermont: car inspections, maintenance, dumping unneeded stuff into storage, selling off furniture, cleaning the Airstream, checking on friends, etc. We will be very busy, I expect.
Along the way here we came up I-87, the NY State Thruway, which comes up from Albany into the Adirondacks. I had forgotten how hard it can be to find gas in the Adirondacks, and made the mistake of exiting the highway onto Route 8 near Horicon with only 1/4 tank left. Thus began our unintentional empirical test of the gas gauge's accuracy ...
I have not had the occasion to test the gauge below about 1/8 of a tank during our ownership of the Armada. However, I have been in this situation before with our prior tow vehicle, a Honda Pilot. The sinking realization that you are on perhaps the last gallon or two of fuel, and making headway at only 10 MPG is bad enough. But when you are in a place known primarily for trees, lakes, mountains, and remote villages -- on a Sunday afternoon at 5 pm -- in the rain -- in a place where cell phones do not work -- the sinking feeling turns into a stomach-churning nightmare.
Turning around on a twisting Adirondack road with a 30-foot trailer is not often an option. There wouldn't be any gas behind us, anyway. Garminita's database of gas stations has proved to be unreliable, so she wasn't much help. I began to drive more carefully, touching the brake minimally, slowing down, coasting wherever possible. Mentally I began reviewing the procedure to follow if the engine suddenly sputtered and quit (power steering and power brakes would fail, but the trailer brakes would still work).
One option we have always reserved for emergencies is to park and unhitch the trailer roadside, then go get gas. Without the trailer, our fuel economy doubles, which could make all the difference. I was getting ready to do that after we passed through Horicon, Brant Lake, and Hague without spotting an operating gas station, and the fuel gauge passed below the "E" indicator.
The little orange "low fuel" light was on for over fifteen miles, and our level of despair was peaking, when we spotted an unexpected pair of gas pumps in a dirt lot next to a small campground. It was the sort of impossible gas station approach that I would normally bypass (uphill, two sharp turns), but in this case I was pleased to be gouged at a price about $0.40 per gallon more than what it would cost just 10 miles away. I bought three gallons, maneuvered very carefully to escape the pumps, and drove on to Ticonderoga to fill up at a more normal price. Between the two stations we bought 25 gallons.
So now we know: the gauge can go below the empty mark in this truck. The tank is rated for 28 gallons, but I would not dare to conclude that we had three gallons left. I think it more likely that the pumps shut off early. Now that we've "tested" the gauge, I hope never to cut it that fine again.
The Easter Bunny was here last night! We left him some celery and carrots, and he left us a nice basket of candies. (The basket strongly resembles one we were given by a couple we met in Mystic Springs. I wonder if they supply the Easter Bunny too.)
Emma & Eleanor's eggs
Emma and Eleanor spent the morning boiling up eggs and coloring them, while I wrestled with our trip plans for the next few months. We're leaving Tampa tomorrow. After several hours with a road atlas and browsing dozens of websites, we have a plan ... sort of. It's as much of a plan as we ever have.
Our intermediate goal is Myrtle Beach for the Region 3 Rally. But we don't need to be there until the 25th, so our intention is to break it up into several short drives of about 150-200 miles each. So we are going to try to make a few scenic and fun stops along the way.
First stop will be Kissimmee. We promised Emma she'd see Sea World back in San Diego and we forgot to go. We used to spend winters nearby in Haines City, so we have a few other old haunts we plan to visit as well.
Next stop would have been St Augustine but unfortunately with the weekend we couldn't get a reservation. Instead, we booked one weeknight at Little Talbot Island State Park near Jacksonville, and we'll see if we can convince the rangers to let us stay longer even though the reservation system says the park will be full.
After that, we'll wing it. I see a nice county park in South Carolina we might want to head to, and I've researched some other possibilities as well. There's not much to do along I-95 in Georgia or South Carolina, so if we want to have some fun we'll need to bail out to Rt 17. (Blog reader Brad Arrowood suggested that, and he's right.)
Even still, I had to pull out all the stops to find a few ideas. There was nothing along our route in our "Watch It Made In the USA" book of factory tours. Nothing in "Howstuffworks.com". No festivals along our route during that period. Nothing going on in the state parks, except for the interesting state parks (Hunting Island, Edisto Beach, etc.) along the coast, and of course they were booked solid.
Commercial campgrounds were unhelpful as well. They were either outrageously expensive or incredibly dull. I spent an hour today reading online reviews only to conclude there wasn't any place I'd be happy to pay for, in a place we could use. I finally concluded I'm happier NOT planning sometimes ... and instead just picking up what appears interesting along the way.
No, the kitchen isn't in danger. That's the rum burning off!
Tonight, Barry dropped by for dinner and dessert. Eleanor decided to make her famous Bananas Foster dessert, which is a favorite of mine. A nice sweet ending to our three weeks in Tampa!
Over the past few months we have met many solo travelers in their RVs. Some roam with a distinct purpose such as work, to avoid the snow, or to visit family. For others the purpose is less clear: they roam for the joy of it, to escape something, to explore. But in common the solo travelers seem very fulfilled, and none have ever seemed lonely.
So for this reason I wanted to try a bit of solo Airstreaming myself. I am not moving around this week, due to being busy with work, but I am alone while Eleanor and Emma are visiting Vermont. I have been interested in finding out how the solo experience feels.
When we were at Manatee State Park a couple of weeks ago, I met a fellow who was in his 50s, retired, gregarious, and yet fairly lonely. He volunteered at the park to fill his time, and chatted up anyone who walked by. He was interested in our travels and said he'd like to travel the country in an RV as well. So I asked him what was stopping him.
"I think I'd be lonely," he admitted. He was afraid that traveling alone would be an isolating experience. I think he pictured himself in remote spots, with no one nearby. But the reality of traveling this way is that you are usually surrounded by people who are sharing the experience. It is a conscious effort to slip away and find those moments of true privacy. Even in vast national parks, we meet new people every day and the opportunities to make friendships come regularly.
Quite often we've met solo travelers along the road who have linked up with others in the same lifestyle. The road is far from a lonely, isolating experience -- it's a broadening experience in which you cannot help but meet people.
That's what I told him. And ever since that conversation, I've wondered what it would be like to travel without my family along, hoping to meet a special someone. Was I too optimistic in my advice?
I don't think so. We've made dozens of great friends through our Airstream travels, and we correspond with them via email and phone regularly, and visit them all over the country. Tonight, here in Tampa, I invited over two such friends, Brett and Barry, to come over for bachelor night at the campground. I would never have met either of these guys if it weren't for Airstreaming, and they are close friends now.
So what better way to celebrate the bonds of brotherhood than with a $4.99 disposable grill and a few cheeseburgers? Brett brought over the ice cream drumsticks, Barry brought his appetite, and then we sat around and talked about the things guys talk about: women, cars, Airstreams, and cheeseburgers. It was a great way to wrap up a busy work week.
While I miss Eleanor and Emma, and talk to them every day on the phone, I can also see the appeal of solo Airstreaming. I have everything to myself, I can keep whatever schedule is convenient, and the efficient space of the Airstream is ideal for one person. If I ever get lonely, there's always someone nearby to talk to -- and if I get bored with my location, I can pack up and move to some place more exciting. It's much more liberating than sitting in an apartment or house somewhere.
If you are single and thinking about taking to the road, but afraid you'll feel cut off, don't be. The world can be your living room. Traveling solo may be the most invigorating thing you'll ever do.
I'm working all day today and haven't had time for any adventures. Eleanor and Emma are over at Janie Haddaway's doing laundry, so they are working too.
Since we don't have any exciting news, I thought I'd share a few photos of us having a typical day in the Airstream. These photos were taken by Andy, who visited us back in Tucson a few weeks ago. He caught us candidly doing the things we do every day.
Every morning the trailer is filled with hubbub. Usually one or both of are working on the computer, and I'm often pacing around talking on the phone. When you call Airstream Life magazine, and you hear noises in the background, just remember this picture of my "office".
Andy was with us on our hike to Sabino Canyon and I'm really grateful that he took a few pictures of us together. We hardly have any good shots of us as a family. This hike in Sabino Canyon is a treasured memory.
And here I am at the end of a typical day, taking care of subscriber inquiries that came during the day, downloading my photos, and writing up a blog entry for you to read.
We are planning to stay here at NTAC for a couple more days, and then I think we will head over to Roger Williams Airstream in Weatherford for some minor repairs. After that, I am leaning toward visiting Hot Springs National Park on our way north to Indiana, rather than heading west to Mississippi. The more direct route will give us more time to stop along the way.
It's a rare day that I post twice, but Bert & Janie showed up with my camera and so I had to rush down to the coffee shop to upload photos of Big Bend for you (which you can see by clicking the Pictures link to the left), and to mention a few other things.
I have posted my essay on the plight of the people of Boquillas Mexico. You can find that by clicking the "Gather" link to the left. I think their story is interesting and I hope you'll enjoy the essay.
Victor Valdez, lifetime resident of Boquillas Mexico, singing by his handmade walking sticks
The other thing is simply that we keep meeting great people and I want to mention some of them. Besides, David, who I mentioned earlier today (below), we have met the McLravys of Lansing Michigan, who are traveling in their Airstream Land Yacht. Yvonne McLravy is quite a good self-published author, who gave me two of her books. I was up late last night reading her account of traveling Alaska's Inner Passage, a trip we plan to do in the next couple of years. She may contribute some writing to the magazine in the future.
We also met Carol McNair, who is the general manager of the campground we are staying in. She dropped by today to say she is a big Airstream fan and owner of an Excella herself. She is one of those folks who stopped in Terlingua for a visit (four years ago) and just never left. Carol is also a subscriber to the magazine, which always warms my heart...
So between the new photos and the Gather essay, there is a lot of content for you to browse today. Enjoy! Let me know what you think. We're off for a hike in the Chisos Basin now.
There are a lot of things I don't get to talk about in this blog when we are traveling. The day-to-day experiences are enough to fill this blog, so I often skip little things. But today, since I'm parked in the bedroom working on the computer, I have no time to go play and I do have a bit of time to reflect.
One of the things I don't get to talk about much is what I'm reading. Although you might not care, what I'm reading has a huge impact on how I see our surroundings, and hence what appears in this blog. A nice feature of the Airstream we have is that it has two bedside nooks, perfect for books. I like to read each night before bed, and so the nook is always full. Traveling also means learning about the places you visit, and one of the very best places to find books about local culture and history is the store at any national or state park.
My real problem is restraining myself from buying a half-dozen books at every stop. We just haven't got room to store them all! So I usually only buy one every few stops. In Nevada I bought "Touring California & Nevada Hot Springs," in Arizona I bought "Roadside History of Arizona" and "The Harvey Girls," but these are more reference books than literature.
For this reason I was thrilled when Andy left me a copy of "Sailing Alone Around The World," by Captain Joshua Slocum. Slocum was a a washed-up old mariner with familial, legal, and financial problems when in the 1890s he built a personal sloop and sailed off solo to adventure. His voyage, a sort of "Walden on the sea", became famous, and Slocum eventually wrote this book about it. In the end, he emerged from the trip "ten years younger" than when he left Boston, and one pound heavier.
Slocum's book is a remarkable bit of prose especially considering the author had no more than a third-grade formal education. The flow and pacing are beautiful, and the romance he brings to the mundane exercise of piloting a craft across featureless seas is inspiring. He manages to turn even a bout with food poisoning into a thrilling experience.
We, too, are sailing around the world in our own way. Like Slocum we are setting sail with only the vaguest of destinations, and letting the experiences happen as they will. This is part of our "post-modern traveling" philosophy, a deliberate lack of structure that encourages accidental discovery, unexpected turns, startling revelations, and the joy of true freedom.
With a rigid travel program in place, one can nearly eliminate the chance element. The risk of a bad hotel, a dull moment, uncomfortable surroundings, or becoming lost, disappears when one is bound by a pre-programmed schedule that has been carefully vetted by someone before you. But I think this is a false reassurance. Expecting that nothing unexpected will happen is paradoxically a self-fulfilling prophesy that you will be disappointed by something, however small. The world is not so cooperative and predictable, no matter what you pay the tour guide. Our philosphy is that it is best to accept that structure in travel is mostly an illusion, and embrace the challenge of constantly-changing circumstance instead.
Slocum had a tough life, in which he learned much about sailing and human nature, but seemed unable to apply it to his own circumstances until late. For that reason, his voyage around the world appeared to be escapism. But in fact he was finally running to his own true calling as a solo traveler and writer, most comfortable in his ship's well-stocked library with Thoreau, Tennyson, Melville, Conrad, and Dickens. I am inspired by his ability to finally find himself after a lifetime of frustration and disappointment. It must have been hard to accept that his destiny could only be found by taking enormous risks into an unknown future. But his choice paid off, proving once again that following one's heart is the best path.
So every night, I marvel at the similarity between the daily steps of his voyage of self-discovery, and ours. This is the stuff that great bedtime reading is made of. I'll be sorry to finish the book, but glad to have met a fellow traveler such as Captain Slocum.
Sign of the week
What else is in my book nook today? "The World Is Flat," by Thomas L Fleischman; "The Digital RV" by my good friend R.L. Charpentier (available through Lulu.com or Amazon.com); "His Excellency" by Joseph L Ellis (a biography of George Washington); and a pre-publication galley of "Mobile Mansions" by Douglas Keister (coming out in April from Gibbs Smith).
You may notice that I'm not updating the blog with our daily travels this week. We have elected to take a week of "vacation" and so I'm only posting non-travel bits until next Thursday.
Now, when I mention the word "vacation" I inevitably get the response, "What -- a vacation from your vacation?" So I'll explain ...
Our trip is that of a working family. I still do my day job nearly every day (7 days a week) while we are traveling in our Airstream. As I've written before, an Airstream trailer with mobile Internet, cell phones, a laptop computer, a cooperative family, and a lot of personal flexibility make this possible. I work whenever I get a chance, and see the world with my family at other times.
But there's no substitute for just unplugging. So when we started this trip, we agreed that at least once or twice we would truly disconnect from work and use the time to re-gain our perspective on everything. That's what a vacation is really about, for me. I don't want to remember my Airstream year only as a time when I was constantly scrambling to balance the obligations of family and work.
I think the obligations we have taken with us are the key difference between us and retirees. The goal of being retired, for many people, is to have most of the responsibilities of work and family behind you, so that you can roam the country without care. We still have those responsibilities but are unwilling to wait until we are retired to travel, so this is our compromise.
In that sense, we are travelers, not vacationers. It works for us. Life goes on, with all its minor dramas and trials, every day we are in our Airstream, but we enjoy our lives more and suffer the trials less because we are simultaneously doing what we love: seeing America on our terms.
Next week we will go back to our regular program of work and travel. But this week, through next Wednesday, we are just a family on vacation. I'll let you know what other perspectives I have gained, when we get back. In the meantime, I will post at least every other day, with some answers to your questions and lifestyle tips we've accumulated over the past two months.
Remember back in early December when we stopped at Tim Shepard's house for a night of courtesy parking and an interview? Well, you can listen to the podcast now, on your computer. Just go to www.thevap.com and download Episode 9! You don't need any special software.
In the podcast, Eleanor and I talk about living on the road, planning, budgeting, getting along, vintage vs. new, packing, laundry, and more.
One small risk of roaming around with no set plans is that occasionally you have to move on before you'd like to. Our plan was to stay in Capitola tonight and move the Airstream tomorrow morning to a place nearby for storage. But we were paying daily for this campsite and someone else had it reserved for tonight. The rest of the sites in this campground are booked too, so we need to pack up and move on by 12:30 pm. We've decided to go over to a parking lot near a laundromat, do some laundry, and then set up at the storage place tonight. We'll boondock there and hit the road tomorrow, heading toward the Ontario (CA) airport.
It's going to be a nasty shock traveling without the Airstream for a couple of days, to and from the airport. I just checked hotels in Paso Robles, CA, which was where planned to crash for the night on Saturday. But the Holiday Inn Express is $142/night ... a bit more than the $0-25 we would have spent camping. I keep forgetting how expensive travel is if you always stay in hotels!
OK, I gave you fair warning: this would be a quiet week for the blog. The reason is that once in a while I have an overload of work and can't maintain the even schedule I strive for. I just posted an essay on Gather about "work/life balance" which you can read by clicking the "Gather" link (to the left), but as it turns out, that essay is really an idealized account of what my life is like.
In reality work doesn't go on an even keel when you are mobile. We've been constantly busy and moving around for two weeks, which meant that a major project due on Nov 20 was looming and nothing was getting done about it. This week it came to a head: I had to set everything aside and get the project done. I hate deadlines for big projects but I've never missed one yet and I wasn't about to miss this one either.
So instead of exploring the central Oregon coast -- Haceta Lighthouse, Seal Caves, Oregon Sand Dunes SRA, Florence's old downtown and river port -- I have been hunkered down in front of my laptop, working, working, working.
This is the dark side of traveling and working. Each morning at about 8 a.m., I ride my bike from campsite #140 through the tall pine trees and damp morning air of coastal Oregon. It's about 3/4 mile down to the "Activity Center" where I can get a desk and free wifi to the Internet. I stay there all day, trying to concentrate on my work, while retirees come and go, playing the occasional game of pool, and working the jigsaw puzzles. Only full-timers roam Oregon this time of year, and we're the only ones who aren't retired.
Around lunchtime, Eleanor and Emma show up bearing lunch, and then I'm back at it. In the evening, we hang out in the Activity Center for a while before returning to the trailer for dinner and a movie (last night: Sahara -- a bit too violent for small children but fun for adults). It's a dull life compared to the last month, but a good chance to catch up on everything: phone calls to friends and family; trip planning; laundry.
Eleanor and Emma have had a chance to explore a bit, and they've taken some photos that I might get uploaded before we leave Florence. I have learned bits and pieces through them. For example, "sneaker" waves are a phenomenon of the Oregon and Northern California coastline, big surges that come between smaller waves. Here they warn you never to turn your back on the ocean, lest a sneaker wave knock you down. No swimming at most beaches.
The project will be done this afternooon and I'll be able to resume a more normal schedule which mixes fun and work. Starting on Saturday, we plan to roam down the Oregon coast into Northern California, stopping at Redwoods National Park and Eureka, at least. Should be some awesome photo opportunities along the way: sea lions, rugged coastline, Victorian houses, redwoods, giant sand dunes, etc. Stay tuned.
Plans are always fluid when you are mixing business and pleasure. We didn't find the Frank Lloyd Wright house I had heard about -- I think we missed it in the dark the night before. That's a drag but we will be back in the spring, I think, so we'll try harder to get it into the schedule.
Rather than double back for the house tour, we pressed on to Council Bluffs to try to get some work done for a couple of days. I've been working every day when I get a chance, but really that's not enough and it's time to sit still and catch up. So now we are camped in Lake Minawa SP, which is a nice spot near everything but isolated by a pretty little lake. Hardly anyone here, either, despite wonderful temperatures and great fall foliage. Business requires that we stop in at the local Airstream dealer (a pleasure, really), and while we are here we need to take care of some maintenance on the Nissan Armada.
The process of settling into a site for more than one night is complex but with each time we find it easier. The GPS tells us where to find the local post office, grocery, and other necessities. The campground hosts are usually helpful with other hints, such as nice places to visit and eat. Setting up the trailer for a stop takes no more than 15 minutes (and that's if we go to the extra step of setting the stabilizers). It's amazing how simple things please us. A full tank of propane and a place to plug in, and we are happy.
We have also discovered that Indiana and Iowa also make it easy on RV'ers by having dump stations at every highway rest area. They never seem to have lines, either. This is a huge improvement over the northeast, where dump stations are hard to find except at campgrounds, and they usually cost money to use. The highway stops are free! Who would have thought I'd get excited about something like that?
There's a bike trail right next to this campground. Tomorrow, since we are expecting unseasonably warm temperatures (low 80s) we will try to break away for a couple of hours to try it out. Emma will be ready to ditch her training wheels in a few months if we can keep getting opportunities to practice. Another simple pleasure ...
One of my favorite blogs right now is "The Adventures of Tioga and George" at www.vagabonders-supreme.net . George is a hard-core RV traveler who, with his trusty class C (Ms. Tioga) and a "team" of other equipment, roams the western states. George's major claim is that he never stays in campgrounds (well, hardly ever). Instead, he makes camp at roadside parking lots, hidden turn-outs, industrial parks, repair shops, and virtually anywhere else that he thinks he can park overnight.
For all his quirkiness, George has captured the spirit of the way Airstreaming used to be, back in the 1950s. Airstream manuals from the 1960s to present day contain some variation on this statement:
"You'll learn the knack of finding wonderful out-of-the-way parking spots in fields, filling stations and just about anywhere that the ground is level and firm." Back in the 1950s, campgrounds were scarce and it was common practice to find a parking spot in any convenient spot, for overnight stays.
Today we live in a more crowded world and it is correspondingly more difficult to find quiet, safe spots to sleep. We are supposed to stay in commercial campgrounds. But a lot of us who are traveling through find the campground experience to be annoying, with lengthy and invasive check-in procedures ("names and ages of everyone in your party, please, also make and model of your car").
Besides, we have no interest in "camping" when are staying for one night -- we're just PARKING. I don't use the mini golf, the swimming pool, the fire ring, or even the water hookup when I'm just passing through. Little wonder Wal-Mart, Camping World, K-Mart, Flying J, and other businesses who welcome overnight RV parkers are finding such popularity.
In our more complex world, George still manages to find his free night camping spots and enjoy them, by staying below the radar of society. His blog tells it all. He calls it "vagabonding."
As we have matured in our traveling sophistication, we too have started to learn how to skirt the traditional and often irritating campground infrastructure. Our version of vagabonding is to courtesy-park wherever we can. Fortunately with an Airstream (and a certain amount of gregariousness), that's not so hard.
Basically, we are opportunistic. Our friend Dr. C made it known for some time that we were welcome to visit his driveway in South Bend. When we found a vinyl graphics shop (to put decals on the new trailer) in nearby Mishawaka, a trip was born. We'll stay for free here in the driveway until our mission is complete.
It just so happens that Brad Cornelius, who works on the magazine from time to time, and Comprehensive Communications (distributors of the Internet-in-Motion box I'm using to connect to the Internet right now) are both in the Chicago area. Chicago is only about 90 miles west from here, so guess where we are heading next? Brad can't offer us courtesy parking, but he has researched a Wal-Mart nearby that will welcome us. We'll spend a night or two and move on.
Our next destination is probably Denver. This is not a random choice, either. We have friends and relatives in the Denver area. That means plenty of options for courtesy parking, or at least local tour guides and meals out. It also means money saved for all those night we don't spend in campgrounds, more entertainment, and a better look at the local area. These are some of the things that make full-timing great.
So when we get to California, do you know who we'll look up? George and Ms. Tioga!
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