It's The Almost-Halfway Point!

 Almost, as in 5 months...but I digress...

We arrived back in Denver, the 2nd of June, for what may well turn out to be a semi-Annual visit. We are back to do:

- maintenance/repairs on The Beast, and on Harvey II;

- Do landlord-y things on the rental;

- Doctors' visits.

- visiting friends, and sitting in with the band.

We will continue our journey, right after the 4th of July, to head towards the upper Midwest: stops in Omaha, Milwaukee, over the top of 'da UP,' then down towards Detroit, to visit the Henry Ford Museum/Greenfield Village (both highly recommended!).

We had great, fun two weeks in our Oklahoma tree row, south of Arnett, OK. Renee's granddad began farming there in the late '40s, and the tree row he planted is the one we're making into our mid-continent stopping ground.

We are going to name it, "Charlie's Row."

It's a special treat for Renee,  given her strong and enjoyable childhood memories of spending summers just enjoying hours of time wandering the farm house, the barns, and the animal enclosures. The farm house and outbuildings are no longer there, but there remains enough 'footprint' of them that she can clearly see them in her mind's eye!

We arrived at the farm, the middle of May, and I began building the road into the tree row.  The farm manager had graciously already completed the tasks of clearing out deadfall, moving the electric service and water to the fence just within the tree row, so all I had to do was haul good limestone rock and caliche from his storage pile, a mile down the road.

He graciously made available a truck and a large dump trailer to haul the dirt in and an even BIGGER front loading tractor to load it into the trailer.

I'd then bring it up the road, drive in just a little bit (it's been a wet spring, and the sandy soil was pretty soft, so had to proceed slowly), dump it, drive up through the tree row, turn around, then get into a skid steer to move the dirt around and mash it down,

25 loads of dirt and 4 days later, I had a pretty good road! It was loose and still soft, so needed some precipitation to 'rain the road down.' A day later, we got our wish!

It was a back-and-forth: yes, the rain tamped down the limestone and caliche, but also still puddled in runoff spots, enough to make it such that I got stuck once or twice, needing to be pulled free by one of Eddie's large 4x4 tractors. All par for the course!

After that was complete, we then went and explored: Black Kettle National Grasslands, and the amazing  Metcalfe Museum. 

https://metcalfemuseum.org/

Augusta Metcalfe was a visionary pioneer woman, who was self-taught, and fiercely 'of the land.' We cannot recommend you visit more highly.

We ate dinners at the local watering hole, The Packsaddle, a well-attended restaurant and bar, where Eddie and Susan know EVERYONE!

This will be pretty short, and bereft of photos: I'm going to go back to my preferred Mac, soon, and will be able to populate these missives with more photos.

till next time!

Paul'n Renee

It's All Jenga, Up In Here!

 One of the many challenges we find, living this nomadic life, is...achieving balance. 

Seems apropos for a geologist...

Balance, in how we spend our days: some are spent not 'doing much,' if one defines 'doing much' as useful activities. We define doing much as collecting experiences be they really active...or watching a Starlink chain, glide silently, through the dark skies of night.

       

Not precisely what we saw, but close!

Balance in how far we drive, a rule of thumb being 4 hours per day. 

Balance in how we measure our success, in all things, but to the point of this essay...where to put stuff!

A genuine AI view of our basement...

Driving: Some days, we might drive as few as 2 hours a day, and rarely, we might find ourselves driving 6. it's all about 'reserve,' that illusive day-to-day, changeable target of what we have in our gumption tanks. When driving to our next destination, the two points above are related; the joy is in the journey.

A musical interlude to that point...

https://youtu.be/C9bMqIwemIA

Measuring successes: that's an easy one, at least at first glance. When we began this crazy idea of full-timing the RV life, our main goal, our inviolate North Star, was to get experiences over things.

Experiencing bending over, under a thing...

We--all of us, mostly--live our lives, getting things: houses, cars, sheds full of tools, animals, ya know...things. They are all useful, but are they necessary, to enjoy this journey?

Mostly, no.

What we did: when packing, which was done in a blind rush, just before we took off, was to arrange stuff in the trailer than seemed to make sense, and in the quantities we felt we needed.

well...we were about half correct! Along our last four month's path, we've winnowed down a lot of stuff: WHY did we think we needed three sets of measuring cups? WHY did we bring the keyboard for the Mac computer, a computer which is residing in our storage container, in Denver?

It seemed like a good idea, at the time!

We have arranged...rearranged...moved things around...disassembled closets and cabinets and under-chassis storage, multiple times, not only to make more organizational sense of various areas but to get it all to fit!

We have created a thirty-five foot long 
Jenga puzzle...

Not *exactly* our RV, but you get the idea!

So, onwards, in our adventure: next stop: San Antonio, Texas!

Our Journey.....

 March 27th, 2025

It's time.

The temperature is rising. about a week ago, the temps suddenly rose to 100F, and the locals assure us we'll see sustained weeks of 110,  The LTVA (long-term vehicle area) permit ends in about 2 weeks. We are getting itchy to move on! We'll be packing up, and moving down to Imperial Dam, at Senator Wash. It's another BLM LTVA, so our pass will work there, too.

Have we mentioned it's getting hot?

😅😓

We've learned a huge number of things,  at Quartzsite: how to monitor and manage our limited water supply: how to poop other places (to further our limited water supply!); how to cook wonderfully delicious meals in cramped quarters: how we were correct.

Correct? How were we correct?

We had it correct, this way: we love the time we spend together, in our tiny home, we were correct in the assessment we had a strong-enough partnership to survive, surmount, and surpass any challenges (and there are a TON!), we were correct in dumping much of our worldly possessions, and pursue a nomad lifestyle.

Remember us saying, in past updates, that we wanted to collect experiences, and not things?

It's hard to convey the lightness of being this lifestyle presents: day to day, we awake with a sense of "what's next?", unlike the feeling of being rooted in a single place, which is more like, "Yea...what's next is go to work/repair things/go shopping/pay bills/plan on doing things."

Wait..what's that you say? 

"How is anything different than when you were living in Colorado?"

It's different.

Out here, there's the road. Out here, there's a daily tingle, a sparkle that can sometimes be subsumed by the sameness of rooted-in-place living. Certainly, being retired makes a huge difference, but it goes even farther than that.

Out here, there's a type of intentionality that isn't always expressed or available, at a fixed location. we get...comfortable. We get used to the '9 to 5' patterns, to the set of things that, because you're in a set location, become...rote.

It's...  not the same grind, day to day. It's a grind, but a far less-abrasive grind. it's a grind we have fully chosen, a grind that has, as its goal, for us to see things and places we have never seen before. The immediacy of the choices we must make are exhilarating,

Some of those places and things...

An interesting rig!

Us, at Mittry Lake

The rear of the The Beast!

One of the vintage tanks, on display, at Yuma Proving Grounds

My bestest travel companion!

In a fixed location version of home, you have a far narrower 'path' to experiencing those things: weekend getaways, vacations that often are fewer than two weeks, or quick daytrips to nearby places. 

On the road, we get to spend hours arranging those trips, we delight in reading maps and brochures, happily planning those trips. We are continually 'trip tikking' our journey; we aren't just taking two weeks and hurriedly grasping at an adventure: we are intentional in our quest.

The poem by Joe Henry looms large..

Eagle feathers bound in wax

Won't get us to the Sun.

The dream's the thing

Our holy wings

Our journey just begun.

Seeya soon!

How We Got Here!

Many of our friends have remarked that they couldn't do this journey, the one of giving up the conveniences of daily life, putting what we needed into a 200 square foot trailer, and packing us and the dog off, to go on this adventure.

At one time...neither could we.

Necessarily, choosing this lifestyle involves many changes and compromises, and we talked endlessly of how we would/could make this transition: you quickly learn how attached you get to things!

We began this idea nearly 9 years ago, with the goalthat we'd at least like to take longer trips when we'd retired, and that was what led to Harvey the First. Followers of the blog have read some of those stories, but they aren't as complete, or as contemporaneous as the story stands, now.

All my life, I've had a love of camping, and did lots of serious backpack trips, around Colorado. After years of that, I tired of sleeping on the ground, so graduated to car/truck camping. When Renee and I first met, we wanted to go do some of that style, but time and life's responsibilities kept pushing that off into the future. We were in agreement that we didn't want to tent camp, and we wanted a more comfortable way of traveling, which led us to our first, "practice RV." We weren't sure of the full-timing bit, so felt a 'toe dip,' in a smaller rig, was warranted.

When we got Harvey the First, ca. 2018, we were thrilled with it, and he became the catalyst of where we are today, After a few trips in H1, we began asking ourselves if we could live in a smaller Class C, with no slideouts, and a very-difficult-to-get-into rear corner bed (the hilarity of clambering out and over the top of your spouse, quickly lost its humor), and so began The Discussion.

Fast forward a bit: in 2021, my father-in-law, Ed, who was always very family-oriented, wanted to take a long journey through the Southwest, with his three daughters, their husbands and perhaps his 2 grandkids.: he had gone blind, and we had 'sprung' him from his elder care digs, where he'd been in forced quarantine for nearly a year, to take him on the journey. Me, being the only member who could drive a big vehicle, was nominated the official pilot! 

Talk about a busman's holiday....!

We rented a 35' Class A (a 'motor coach,' in industry parlance) to do the deed, and embarked upon what we ended up calling, "The Ed-apalooza!" We visited Utah, Arizona, and New Mexico. We travelled to Bryce, to the Grand Canyon, to Mexican Hat, to Santa Fe, all over our American Outback. We drove through Panguich, we stayed at some cool RV parks (full hookups were kind of a must), and had a ball...and I determined I *never* wanted a Class A!

Despite that realization, it was Ed's last big trip, and it was a joyous, raucous time! We saw so may places, helped provide Ed with the joy of being out in the world, with his beloved family, and I loved being a part of it.

An example of a Class A rig

Why not a Class A?

First, they are big: many parks now restrict access to rigs over 40 feet, plus, I can't even change a tire on them. Each wheel/tire assembly is well over 350 pounds, and the days of me hefting such brutes are well in my rearview mirrors. The mechanicals are reminiscent of the warning on old TVs, from then 50s and 60s: 
"This device contains non-user serviceable parts."

For example, if a transmission needs replacing, you're looking at a repair bill of over $20,000 dollars: let's not even talk about engines. Tires are $1000 a pop. Did I mention they are BIG?

We also thought that, in the eventuality of its needing major repair (a 'when,' not 'if), it'd have to be towed--spelled with MANY $$$$--to a facility...where you are now out of a home. Kind of a problem.

Class Cs, most of which are based upon vans like Fords and Chevys, can be had in larger sizes (up to 32 feet) and with slideouts, to maximize their living space, but my objection is they are are powered by gasoline engines, which just aren't as durable and efficient as diesels. Mercedes Sprinters are diesel, but they are massively expensive, and REALLY expensive to repair.

An example of a Class C rig

Again, with them...they break, you're out of a home.

So, Class A/Class B/Cs were out: that leaves trailers.

There are two types, and though they both get towed behind, there're 'tow behinds,' and 5th wheels.

A tow-behind rig

A 5th wheel rig, similar to ours

Tow-behinds are towed on a ball hitch (bumper hitch), and 5th wheels are towed in the same manner as over-the-road semi trucks. I have many tens of thousands of miles towing both, and I much prefer 5th wheels. They tow better, are easier to hook up, and are far easier and more maneuverable when backing.

You can get good deal, in a square foot comparison, in tow-behinds, but they still have the attendant issues I spoke of above. Our 5th wheel was a good bargain, due to a few extenuating circumstances, and that's how we got in Harvey the Second. It isn't too large--35 feet--and was in really good shape. it needed a few bits and bobs, and extensive testing during the fall/winter of 2023, and spring/summer of 2024, got us comfortable that all its mechanical and electrical systems were in good order.

Mostly...more on this, later!

Trailers are much simpler vehicles to service and repair, most of which I am capable of doing: if The Beast needs to get repaired, we're not out of a home.

So, here we are!

Not a current photo of us, but quite correct in the view!

Oh, Let The Rain Come Down!

 March 6, 2025: Day 31: Oh, Let The Rain Come Down!

We are just a bit past the halfway point, of our stay in the Arizona desert. Day by day, we come more to the wonderful realization that we made the right choice, to become full-time nomads.

So far....:)

We are also pragmatic enough to know that every day is a gift, and we've no guarantees that tomorrow will be as blessed as today. We also have come to realize that the things--literally, things--we thought important, are not. We have plenty of room. We have plenty of food. we have...enough. 

One Youtuber we follow has a saying: Experience Over Things. We are taking that to heart and experiencing as much as we can. Know how, when on a road trip, you'll pass historical markers, or roadside attractions, but pass them by, because you're 'on the road'?

We stop, now. We're not in any hurry, because there's more to life than increasing its speed. We smell the roses, we read the signs, we sit out Harvey...and sit.

Today...and last night, we were told this was the first measurable rainfall in Quartzsite in a year! It began late last evening as a soft sprinkle, ramping up into a good rain. It wasn't enough to fill up the myriad washes that surround us, but plenty to puddle the flat areas. It was welcome, after the big, dusty windstorm of yesterday. 

Sadly, there are no ocotillo cacti anywhere near us, to watch their dry, dead-looking sticks turn green, laden with leaves: it's one of the miracles of the desert, and it happens within 36 hours!

So, this is just a snapshot, and bear with me, 'cuz I'm still trying to figure out this blogger: stay tuned, for I may transition to something easier.

 Day 18: Quartzsite Musings...

It's been a long, dry stretch, so I'll do my best to catch up! We are having the exact ball we thought and hoped retirement would be.  However, like jumping out of an airplane for the first time, till you do it, no amount of research and investigation will fully convey the experience.

First: Took me a few times, driving past the sign...

...to get that the geologist's term, 'quartzite,' is different to the town name, "QuartzSite!"

Second: A major realization, as a result of a trip back to frigid, chilly Colorado..

I went back to finish cleaning out the garage: prospective renters were put off by not having all the shelves cleaned off. There was room to park two cars in it, but...

It was COLD, there: below zero F, both days, and snowy on the ground. I came from PHX, in the morning, which was 58F, to arrive at DEN, to a brisk high of 16F.

Yep. This full-time snow birding was a good choice! 

Having been born and raised in Colorado, I remain a proud citizen of the state,, BUT...a lifetime of dealing with winter was one of the main reasons Renee and I chose to follow the RV life. Being there in cold Colorado reinforced that notion, but, more significantly, led to a realization, one that really fully dawned on me upon my return.

When I was back in the empty house...

...Renee called to talk about this-n-that, and she asked, "Being in the house, do you miss it?" The question caught me by surprise, and I had to think about it. 

After a few silent seconds, I replied, "No. Not really. Yea, the space is nice, and the freedom to move over 5 acres of land might be cool, but it's not home. it's just a rental."

The full realization didn't take place fully till I returned to our home...which is now Harvey II! It was then the entire picture became clear: Where we live is now home. 

Keenesburg is no longer our home...it's just a house.  That was an entirely unexpected conclusion, and it filled me with great joy, and some relief.

Our 200 square foot home, with little storage space, not much room to hang pictures, or to display tschotskis..is just enough.

It's enough to be comfortable. It's enough to share this journey with a wonderful partner. It's...enough.

We can plan and dream and till we commit, we never know if the leap was a good one or how we'll land. The research may increase the chances of a good landing, but the old shibboleth comes to mind: Behold the turtle...he makes no progress until he sticks his neck out.

A number of our friends have said to us, in slightly different ways, that they couldn't do what we have done, and frankly, we weren't, and couldn't be sure...till we jumped. It is an INCREDIBLE feeling, floating on a parachute of dreams, that by the grace of the Universe, is holding us up and allowing us to float along in our dream.

Come join us!

 Day 2, Quartzsite: It's different!

Our first stop, after leaving Phoenix, was in Yuma, AZ., for the Yuma BLM offices. There, you exchange your reservation for the actual passes you put on your camper and tow vehicle. The folks there were extremely patient with our questions, and handed up a sheaf of maps and tips. Then, we began the 90 miles trip from Yuma, to La Posa South, which is the largest of the quartet of sites available in Quartzsite.

We arrived here in the dusty La Posa South camping area...which is 11,000+ acres of (mainly) primitive camping. Since the RTR was over, the spaces were many and varied, and we picked one of the better ones, not far from the fresh water, the dump station, and the pit toilets.

Mainly, because there are no hookups; one can get potable water to put in your rig, and one must take your 'Blue Boy" (a generic name for the towable poop tanks folks use to...well, empty their poop tanks!) to a central dump station. There can be a sizable line of folks waiting to get access, and it's not the rosiest-smelling place....but, it's just part of  the experience of being a nomad!

Once set up--we're here till mid-April--we got to the tasks of knowing our way around the area, and drove into town to scope things out. A sizable contingent of the vendors are still set up in town: rocks, gems and minerals, RV supplies, and a gazillion food trucks are scattered around town. As you might expect, prices here are not very cheap, but the closest Walmart is in Parker, a 35-mile drive. at a nominal 12 mpg in The Beast, one carefully considers what's worth the drive!

Sorry for the short, boring report: I'm STILL trying to figure out how to attach photos...stay tuned!