Archive for July, 2007
July 16, 2007 at 5:12 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Last night I let the blog go unwritten, because I wanted to take a day off to think about where the blog is going and where my book project is going. Frankly, the book has been going nowhere. I have now written at least five completely separate drafts ranging from 3 pages to 83 pages, and abandoned each one.
With a sunny day to think about it and no other writing to do, I have come to realize that my block stems from the enormity of the trip. The task’s size does not daunt me — I am used to writing tomes of up to three hundred pages, and my output just on this blog amounts to about 20,000 words a month (roughly the amount of text in an issue of Airstream Life). But the trip is different. It defies summarization, definition, and explanation. When I grab a hold of one piece, the rest seems to slip out of control like a greased balloon.
So my book drafts have been readable but annoying. One started to read like a “how to” guide to RV’ing. We don’t need that. There are plenty of guides already out there (although I will say that many of them are terrible). Another draft followed the “People’s Guide” travel book format, and did work at some level, but it wasn’t what I wanted to produce. I may resurrect that one later. A third draft attempted to tell our story chronologically and even I was fantastically bored with it by the tenth page. And then there were the various half-attempts, amounting to three or four pages of desperate writing in search of a point.
Since I will soon have to get into some heavy writing and editing for the Winter 2008 issue of Airstream Life (coming out in November), I wanted to at least have a stub of a book worked out this month. That way I won’t have to obsess about it when I should be working on the magazine.
My approach today is code-named “Seamonster”. I have taken to naming the drafts based on what inspired the approach. This one got kicked off by a collection of essays by Paul Theroux called “Sunrise with Seamonsters”. Theroux is a writer who simultaneously makes me stupified by his incredible skill, and sigh with envy. Just one of his opening sentences is better than any ten paragraphs I’ve ever written. I am like Antonio Salieri to Amadeus Mozart, good enough to recognize a true genius when I see one, but not good enough to ever play his music. Perhaps with another ten years of practice I’ll get better.
In any case, I want to recruit you, blog reader, to review a few pages of the current draft. The format of “Seamonster” will be a series of essays, each designed to stand alone but gradually build on each other to form a fairly complete picture of our two years of travel. The first essay will be an introduction, and if the format works I’ll continue to write additional essays — based in a large part on this blog — to eventually reach perhaps 25-40 essays and enough to fill a decent-sized book. (Then I’ll ask you to buy a copy, but let’s worry about that later.)
So starting tomorrow, I will be posting excerpts from the introductory essay here on the blog. Given that each blog entry is about 800 words, it will take several days to post an entire essay. Bear with me during this, and do feel free to send your comments and suggestions. I’m interested in whether you think the format works, whether you’d buy or recommend a book containing such essays, and what topics you’d like to see discussed.
If you have nice things to say, post them here as Comments. If you have negative things to say, write them on the back of a $20 bill and mail them to my PO Box. That will sweeten the blow.
Bonus shot: morning view from the tent
Of course I’ll still continue to post pictures and events from this week in addition to the Seamonster tests, so if you aren’t interested in being an Editor-for-a-Day there will be Tour of America stuff to read too. Thanks for your help!
July 14, 2007 at 6:08 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Last night a bunch of friends came over for a beach party at the Tiki Bar. The Tiki Bar is a creation of my brother’s. It’s a rough wooden bar made of driftwood and scraps, topped with an umbrella and surrounded by beach chairs, a fire ring, a barbecue grill and a bunch of coolers.
The Tiki Bar comes to life when friends drop by. Last night it was: (top row) Ken, Karen, Bruce, Sue, Eleanor, and old brother Steve. (Lower row) Emma, Mom, Caroline, and Kathy. Also in the front row you can see Caroline’s dog, Nina. The black blob swimming in the water is Kathy’s Newfoundland dog, Allie.
A highlight of the evening was when Emma gave everyone a hula lesson. Below you can see the group reaching up to pantomime the sun, wearing the lightsticks that Emma distributed earlier.
Earlier in the afternoon we had all set up tents by the water for a big sleepover. Emma was really looking forward to spending the night “camping in a tent”. You’d think she had not gotten enough camping by now. But of course, sleeping in a tent is a completely different experience.
I have to admit, it wasn’t just for Emma. I like tenting a lot. The night was warm and clear, and as we were going to sleep we could listen to the sound of the small waves lapping the rocky shore of Lake Champlain. And I was able to share in Emma’s excitement about sleeping out in a snug little tent on the grass.
Since our tent is an ultra-lightweight backpacking version for two, Emma and I shared it and Eleanor stayed in the Airstream. This tent was bought back when Eleanor and I were childless backpackers. We used to go backpacking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire regularly. The last time we were in this little tent together, Emma wasn’t even an idea and we were camping in Death Valley. How things have changed …
It was a very nice night. Emma, of course, loved it and wants to “camp out” a lot more. We’ll definitely have to get a family tent now. I’m already eyeing spots in the Airstream to store a larger tent, plus sleeping bags and camping miscellany, as we travel this fall. I’ve got a few places in mind I’d like to use it, including the Florida Keys, Glacier National Park, the national forest near Prescott AZ, the Huachuca Mountains in southern AZ, and other such places where the Airstream can’t go.
July 13, 2007 at 5:05 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
For the past week Emma has been attending art camp in a crooked house in the village.
Since today was the last day, there was a grand unveiling of all the art and of course all parents (and in Emma’s case, grandparents) had to come see. There was some mighty fine art there, including painting, pottery, and digital photography.
For full-timers with children, we can offer this experience as an example of how you can enjoy local activities and communities even though you’re “on the road”. The class was only a week but it was a great opportunity to spend “quality time” with other kids. Even a family moving at a fairly rapid pace can usually carve out a week here and there.
The next structured learning experience for Emma will be swimming lessons. We’ll rejoin a bunch of kids that Emma has been learning to swim with for the past three years. Between now and the start of swim class she wants to keep going to the skating rink in the morning, which she has been doing for three weeks.
Rant department: Eleanor came home with a single container of Brown Cow yogurt (my favorite brand) and the bad news. It now has pectin added just like all the others. Not much, judging by the mouthfeel, but it’s the principle of the thing. Whose bright idea was this? What was wrong with just making it from milk?
I did some research and found this quote from an article published in Dairy Foods, May 1999:
Suppliers are making this [premium, all-natural yogurt] possible through the introduction of specialty starches for yogurt stabilization. These starches replace gelatin and non “all-natural” hydrocolloids, resulting in a simpler ingredient label to satisfy health-conscious consumers.
Well, that’s all very nice, but I agree with an online poster who wrote: “… yogurt with added pectin is no longer yogurt, it’s jello.”
Elsewhere, I read this:
Nonfat milk, when inoculated with yogurt culture, will not thicken into traditional “yogurt” consistency. So a thickener must be added. Some companies use pectin, some use tapioca starch.
The Brown Cow Cream Top plain yogurt I like isn’t made with nonfat milk, so that excuse doesn’t fly with me. I think they’re compensating for something. From San Francisco Chronicle, March 3, 2004:
The best-textured yogurt contains none of these additives [gelatin, pectin, gum], relying instead on high percentage of milk solids to do the job.
I’m beginning to see a yogurt conspiracy here. Time for me to try Fage, Trader Joe’s, and Nancy’s, as many blog readers recommended last time I ranted on this subject. (Hey, yogurt is serious business to me. A couple of spoonfuls every day seem to really benefit my digestive tract. And I love the taste … Throw some in your fridge and see if you don’t agree.)
July 12, 2007 at 8:57 pm · Filed under Maintenance
I am in a large part governed by the weather. The last week of dampness and gray was beginning to annoy me, but the weather changed in the middle of the night and suddenly everything was different. I could feel it even in my sleep.
Cool, dry air slipped in the open windows of the Airstream and the moldiness was swept away. The sheets of the bed became crisp and dry, and I rolled over just to feel them against my legs. I lay there for a while, looking up at nothing in the dark, just reveling in the thrill of the refreshing night air, and then turned back to dreams filled with fantasies of exploration.
It has been a beautiful day. I got up early and hitched the trailer and then loaded it up on the Charlotte-Essex ferry for an absolutely gorgeous ride across the lake to New York state. My mission today was to visit Colin Hyde, and see his elves work magic on Airstream trailers.
I had only two things on my list: First, to replace the standard plastic RV toilet with a new Dometic Sealand china toilet. The one that came with the trailer has had an intermittent issue where it lets sewer gas into the bathroom. In other word, it stinks. We’ve never been able to figure out exactly where the gas was leaking in, and it turned out to be easier to swap the whole unit for an upgrade than to fix it.
The second item was to leak test the trailer. Colin says, “They all leak” and I tend to agree with him. There is no such thing as a trailer that has never leaked, despite what sellers claim on eBay. What they really mean is, “I don’t know where the leak is.” Even if your trailer doesn’t leak today, after a year or two of bouncing down the road things can be different, so it pays to preventively check.
The machine above is a big fan that sucks air in the roof vent and lightly pressurizes the interior of the trailer. The guys close the doors and windows, and then go around the trailer spraying a soapy water solution on everything and look for bubbles. It’s simple.
Our trailer did pretty well on the test. We found several places which formed bubbles, but some of them are not really leak points and so we ignored them. Three “real” leaks were found. The worst was on the plumbing vent (on the roof), and repairing it was a matter of removing the vent, trimming the vent’s gasket, and re-sealing it. The other two were on the patio light and the step light. They only needed re-caulking.
Colin marks a leak at the patio light
The guys said our trailer was the least leaky one they’ve tested so far … remember, they ALL leak eventually. If you haven’t done a leak test, I recommend it as relatively cheap insurance. Just because you can’t see a leak doesn’t mean it isn’t rotting out your Airstream’s floor!
July 11, 2007 at 6:00 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
This has been the longest stretch of thunderstorms that I can ever remember having in Vermont. Every few hours for the past six days we have had another one roll in and inundate us again. But tonight the blessed New England summer weather phenomenon arrives: a cold front, with dry clear air behind it.
These cold fronts are marvelous to experience. One day it’s as humid as can be (and I mean that literally, since our dew point was 72 degrees today and the high temp was only about 79), gray, calm, and rainy — and then a giant eraser comes across the sky to wipe the slate clean. Our stickiness vanishes in hours, with a thrilling blue sky above dotted with puffy white clouds. Suddenly, it’s time to be outside, ride in the boat, walk down the road, hike in the mountains, and swim in the lake.
That’s what the forecast promises. A glorious cold front is draped across New York state from north to south and it is heading our way, slated for arrival tonight. But in case it didn’t arrive on schedule, Emma and Steve decided to take to the lake last night anyway. The water was cold (probably mid-60s) and the sun was hidden, but they still had some fun.
This next item may not seem related, but bear with me here. This afternoon the dentist’s office called with a last minute cancellation. So I zipped over and in 15 minutes they were prepping me for some fun fillings. Turned out I needed two of them and one was a doozy. Mucho novocaine. Suffice to say that I’m glad it’s over and now I don’t have to spend the rest of the month wondering when the dental call will come.
So today has been a day of anticipation, and turning the corner. The dismal weather and the boredom that comes with it are nearly gone, and the threat of drill-and-fill is over too. By tomorrow things will feel much different (for one thing, I’ll be able to feel my jaw again).
Eleanor cooks Indian naan
Now, if I could only eat dinner without biting my tongue …
July 10, 2007 at 6:32 pm · Filed under Uncategorized
Part of our summer routine is unfortunately to catch up on medical and dental exams, so today I visited the ever-friendly dentist and had everyone take a look at my teeth. When E&E were getting their teeth cleaned a few weeks ago, our dentist asked them to have me bring a current issue of Airstream Life along. They like to see how Matthew McConaughey’s trailer is coming along. It’s a reminder to me that even non-RV’ers like to read the magazine.
I also left a copy in the waiting room. We do that all over town: the ophthalmologist’s, the dentist’s, the periodontist’s (but thankfully I don’t have to go there anymore), the allergist’s, etc. People get tired of reading the same magazines all the time (People, Newsweek, Conde Nast Traveler and other staples of the waiting room).
I used to do it just for fun, to make people sit up and say, “What the heck is that magazine?” But in the past year I found the effort actually paid off in a small way. We picked up a few subscriptions in those towns not long after I left the copies. One person even wrote me a letter, saying that the humor column made her laugh so much that she forgot she was waiting for a root canal. She concluded with this: “Are people really this crazy about Airstreams? I’ve never seen a magazine like this before!”
The dental hygienist who was working on me today was very interested in the full-timing life. She had to keep stopping to allow me to answer her questions. Since she had a sharp pick in her hand, a bright light shining on my face, and plenty of other dangerous-looking instruments on the tray, I imagined I was being interrogated by an enemy government … “You will tell us the secrets of the RV life, Mr. Luhr, or my associate here will be forced to take, shall we say, unpleasant measures.” Needless to say, I answered all her questions truthfully.
They want me back in a few weeks, if an appointment time can be found, for replacement of a filling that fell out. So I’ll find out if the current state of Matthew’s trailer has found approval with the dental office staff. This is a little like doing a focus group survey. It’s useful feedback, really.
For the past several days the thunderstorms have continued to march through. Yesterday we had four, each separated by a couple of hours. Two of them were monsters, with damaging wind and hail. The power went out in the house for a while (but of course, not in the Airstream since it has battery backup).
In the late evening and early morning we get light rain showers, the evidence of dissipated thunderstorms that petered out over the Adirondack Mountains in New York. As a result, nothing will dry. The humidity is running 85% inside the house and higher outside. Anything made of paper lies limp, Eleanor’s hair threatens to frizz up like a shocked cat, the beddings feel damp, and as I drove past plowed fields today I noticed them actually steaming in the sun. Fog forms in low spots at any time of day.
But the temperatures are moderate, mostly in the 70s. It is the polar opposite of our home in the southwest, where it is scorchingly hot and dessicatingly dry. Eleanor and I have decided we like the contrast. It’s much more interesting than going from, say, New Jersey to Florida. Each year we will go from green/damp/cool to brown/dry/warm and back again.
In our past travels, we’ve found that moving from one corner of the US to another always brings delight, because it is so different. We’re looking forward to saying, “Oh, it’s great to be back!” no matter which direction we are headed. Even if the green part does require a visit to the dentist.
July 9, 2007 at 8:12 pm · Filed under Travel / lifestyle musings
Last week at the big Airstream rally I was approached by many people and asked about the full-timing life. It seems more and more people are looking at this lifestyle as an alternative to a sedentary retirement. Far from being a refuge of the borderline-homeless and hillbillies, living in a travel trailer is now a cool thing to do, almost chic.
I was pleased to see the sorts of people asking me about full-timing. They were successful, intelligent, thoughtful people who have come to realize that there are huge advantages to mobile living. Most of them were approaching retirement and viewing their Airstream as a literal “retirement vehicle”, but others were still working and trying to figure out how to carry some semblance of a career forward using mobile technology.
For a lot of people, full-timing is a way to travel and live cheap. But many people who approached me last week had no intention of selling their homes. To my way of thinking, that’s reasonable. It’s not as affordable to keep your home (compared to selling it), but it does have the advantage of giving you a ready base in the event of an unexpected event that prevents you from continuing in the travel trailer.
This reminds me that full-timing doesn’t really have a definition. I know people who consider themselves full-timers but sit absolutely stationary for months at a time. Others only consider it true full-timing when you are on the move regularly. Some people have homes they return to periodically, while others (like us) go for years with the RV as their only shelter.
If you spend six months each year in your RV, and six months back at home base, are you a full-timer? Perhaps you’re a part-time full-timer.
The definition is flexible, but I believe there’s a mental orientation that we all share. Full-timing is more about your travel philosophy than your exact circumstances. Here are a few commonalities to full-timers that I’ve noticed:
Full-timers like to explore. They live in travel trailers for the convenience, but they’d do the same thing in a boat if they felt like exploring the seas. In fact, many full-timers I’ve met were formerly “live-aboards” (the equivalent term for boaters).
Full-timers like to travel more slowly than the average person. They tend to reject fixed schedules, and celebrate the opportunity to be flexible.
Full-timers are often stubbornly independent and march to their own tune. They will go where their family members wish they wouldn’t, whether that’s Alaska, Mexico, or the mosh pit. They have chosen to trade traditional “stability” for freedom, and they don’t take it lightly.
Full-timers will stretch a buck ten feet if it means they can stay on the road a little bit longer. They’ll work almost any job, no matter how menial, if it keeps them where they want to be. I met a wealthy professional working the gift shop at Grand Canyon just so he could stay all season (otherwise your stay is limited). He could have afforded a nice hotel room a few miles down the road. I met a retired lawyer cutting hair and parking RV’s just so he could stay all summer in a beautiful Idaho park and visit his grandchildren.
Full-timers tend to be unafraid. They don’t stay home because someone else had a bad experience, or because someone told them there were snakes. The only things full-timers fear are high gas prices and bad health.
Full-timers know how to make their own fun. I’ve never met a bored full-timer. (I suppose anyone who did get bored would quit traveling pretty quickly.) Full-timers learn the trick of finding something to do anywhere, and they enjoy location-independent pursuits like reading, writing, photography, quilting, and cooking.
Most full-timers are gregarious. They love to meet new people and socialize. It’s hard to travel around and be a hermit at the same time. Making friends is part of the package.
So overall, full-timing is a mindset. If you get a great feeling of freedom and lightness when you travel on business or vacation, you may be a full-timer who just hasn’t launched yet. And if you’ve been a full-timer (like we have) and are now contemplating “settling down”, just keep in mind that owning a house means nothing. You can still pack up and go out again …
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