The Sameness Of A Sedentary Life….

Eagle feathers bound in wax

Won't take us to the sun.

The dream’s the thing

Our Holy Wings

Our journey,  just begun.

-Joe Henry 

As we travel the roads of this wonderful country, an adventure now heading into its second year, we are still asked, “Why? How come you chose to chuck a comfortable sticks’n bricks life, for one that is lived in a little box, towed behind a big truck?”

This was a two-night stay-over, at Peggy Sue’s Diner.

Strap in, gentle readers. This will be a bit of a journey!

We began hatching this idea long before Covid, so it really wasn't that terrible time that drove us down this road (see what I did there? ….). It certainly instilled a bit of motivation, to get out and see this wide, open land, for sure, but the idea had sprung earlier than that.

In the spring of 2018, Renee and I began talking about what we might do, upon our retirement. At the time, that seemed an impossibly long ways off: originally, Renee was planning to work till full retirement, which was 2026, and I thought I’d stick it out to that point, too. Renee loved her job, one she’d been doing almost 35 years, and my job...well, let's just say...it was a job.

For those who aren't aware, a little backstory: In 2013 I’d been laid off, from US Geological Society after 15 years of being a geologist. I began bouncing around, from being an aircraft deicer—no excuse for being late to the job because of snow!—to driving Access-a-Ride (paratransit buses, for older riders), to city buses (a job I quickly figured out was not NEVER going to be a career), to finally ending up with the job of being a school bus driver.

It was rewarding, inasmuch I knew I was keeping kids safe, and maybe providing one or two of my ‘kidlets’ some life lessons they might actually use, to having the freedom of a semi-retired, part-time job.

It also shared a quality as most jobs I’d had, the main one being fairly predictable.

Oh, sure, the deicing job varied with the vagaries of weather, and the paratransport job, the fun of sharing life stories with those older than I, but…they all were somewhat..rote. I got up, went to work, did the work, drove home, waited for Renee to get home from her long days.

It was the same for her, but…different. she’s been with Weld County for the better part of 35 years, and her job required a 2 hour commute, each day.

Fast forward: in May of 2024, after 9 years of driving a school bus…I was done. Here’s the power pose, on my last day..

Dork, by bus...

Per our earlier conversations, Renee thought she’d retire, right around July of this year: good! 

Gave us 2 years to get things in order, to begin our journey. At that moment, the plan was we’d sell the house, invest the funds into something that would bear some fruit, and keep us in fuel and food.

So, I began the process (more accurately, accelerated an already-in-progress process): trips to Goodwill, selling tools and equipment I’d never need again, and I set to cleaning and neatening things up around the property.

I like to joke—and it's not entirely a joke, but mainly so—that Renee took a look at me being retired, and said, "Stuff it! I’m retiring, too!!’ So, in June of ’24, she gave her  six-months notice, and on December 13, she was retired!

Rut roh.

Now, 2 years of time to prepare everything was reduced to 8 months. Not necessarily an issue but...it required us to seriously rethink the plan. We also made the choice to get on the road by the end of December, reasons being, we didn’t want to wait too much later to travel (icy roads, a large vehicle, and all the associated attendant problems with both), and, frankly, we were not willing to sit out another Colorado winter.

First: We veered from selling the house to keeping it, getting a property management company, and renting it. Doing that gave us an income stream, and a fallback position, should we find we really didn't like dragging around a little box behind a big truck.

Second: In the 8 months we allotted we knew we’d not have enough time to fully sort out and winnow down all our possessions. Neither of us believe in offsite storage (too expensive, and if you have so much stuff you need to pay monthly to store it, you have too much stuff), so we bought a ConEx, and put it on our land. One cost and done, rodent-proof, and secure.

Ye old typical sea can (ConEx)

Third: we began the mad rush to get everything done: not only did we have a lot of stuff in the house, I had a garage, stuffed with decades of tools, equipment, and supplies. As a person who, for decades, made his living with tools, it became a bit of a mental struggle to choose what to keep and what to take. I used a matrix...

A) Was a given tool something I needed? Or, was it something  I would never need? 

That was sorta easy: a special tool for installing the rear leaf springs of a Rolls-Royce, or Bentley? Would the need every arise for me to use a valve sping compressor, for flathead engines? How about the full set of Snap-On pilot bearing installation jigs?

Outta here.

B) If I thought I’d have a need for a tool or piece of equipment,  was it even possible to take it with me in an RV?

Table saws, metal chops saws, bench grinder, 6-ton jackstands, 2 sets of drive-up ramps, an engine stand, or the cherry picker, to lift up said engines? 12-drawer, 6 foot high tool box, chockablock with hundreds of various hand tools?

Outta here.

I had to get brutal with these choices—as did Renee, with her panoply of property—and let me tell ya, I had NO IDEA a grown man could get so emotionally invested in the finer details of hand tools and shop equipment!

We made over 25 trips to Goodwill, with a full pickup truck of stuff; we conned offered friends into taking some of our excess stuff, we went on Marketplace and sold a bunch, and stored a lot in the ConEx.

“40 foot one? That should be more than enough!”

Famous last words…..😎

In this mad rush, I had the luxury—if one wants to call it that—of not continuing to work. As in make a living. Renee? Not so much. For her, the mad rush took on a completely different meaning: From the time of her last day at work—13 December—to us leaving—28 December—was a literal dash. We worked 10-12 hour days, moving stuff into the ConEx and making more trips to Goodwill. The first two weeks of Renee’s retirement was working hard.

This is a good point, to turn this back towards my title…ever since we began this journey, there has not been a single boring moment: We are always presented with opportunities to explore, we always have stuff to do, we always are planning our routes, we…aren't sedentary. We are busy, every day, but rather than with the day-to-day of making a living, we're enjoying living.

Taking a ride in a Flivver, at Greenfield Village.

Paul (for scale) at The Henry Ford.

Stunning sunsets over our backyard mountains

Renee no longer has the arduous 80-mile round trip to work to deal with, and I get to spend MUCH more time with the love of my life, my partner in this adventure, all the while not being sedentary. Quite the contrary: we get to see all this beauty, all this life...

On the road to Stanley, Idaho..

Entering Death Valley

Standard summer clothing, in Idaho! Red Fish Lake, and the Sawtooth Range, in the background.

Like Chancy Gardener, we are Being There. In the moment. Seeing the grandeur this country has to offer, and offer it, it does, around every corner. 

Odd, to see the Colorado State fossil at a truck stop in Nevada1

At one of our many overnight stops

Thanks for coming along with us, on the journey!

https://studio.youtube.com/video/RbtnPX6jhv4/edit

The Spring, She Be a’Springin!

June 3rd, May Family Farm..

So, in our waning days at Imperial Dam, we began reconfiguring our 2026 travel plans….in which things…. um…decidedly changed. We touched upon that in the last post, and nothing much has altered, in that regard: Fuel costs are still high and are likely not to go back down this year.

As a result, we canceled all our West Coast plans: we were going to lazily meander up through California, seeing sights, taking six weeks or so, then on into Oregon, Washington, continue up into the lower Provinces, to see Victoria, Bouchard Gardens, and a little of all there is to see in the PNW. We wanted to travel down from there and end up back at the farm in Oklahoma, right around Labor Day, but….all that had to be scrapped.

Remember? “We’ll figure it out!"

The travels up through the West Coast states, into/around Canada, and onto Oklahoma ,would have added a minimum of $4000-$6000 to our fuel costs, alone, and that was simply untenable.

We made our way up to Las Vegas, on our journey back to the Mile High state, to do much needed maintenance and repairs, on the rig and The Beast.  The trip to Vegas was primarily to be near an affordable airport, which allowed me to travel to Denver, where I sang with the band, then humped it back to Vegas, where, after a 9-day stay, we headed for Colorado, in late April.

Renee had never been to Hoover Dam, and I had never toured the insides, so we took that in…this year, the dam is 91 years old, and the engineering scope and sheer awesomeness of it never ceases to amaze!

Looking down the face, all 726 feet of it! A few folks at the top refused to join me….

Looking down river, and at the botton of the highway overpass, built in 2011, to ease traffic congestion over the very narrow dam road.

Renee, for scale….

This is the overflow channel, which is one of two: Lake Mead has only ever needed them once, in 1983, and it’s unlikely they will ever be needed again.

Talk about having a bathtub ring…..this was taken on the Arizona side, looking back to the Nevada side.

Looking up-lake: Mead is at historic lows, due to overuse and the effects of climate change. On the left is the Nevada-side penstock, which is the intake for the water that powers to turbines.

Bureau of Reclamation benchmark set 91 years ago.

Cool Art Deco bronze sculptures, at the visitor center.

More Art Deco touches, which you will see all over the place. This is based upon some Native American symbology.

The eight enormous turbines that generate the power that light Las Vegas: due to low water levels, only one turbine was in operation.

The trip also allowed us to stop over in Vegas, so I could—AGAIN—pull off the belly pans, to replace rat-gnawed hydraulic lines, which caused us no end of grief since we left Yuma. Being in Las Vegas was also needed, to find an outlet, where I could purchase replacement hydraulic hoses that would be less-tasty to the vermin that visit us.

In a trailer like ours, with hydraulically-actuated slides and landing gear, there are literally hundreds of feet of these hoses, and, in keeping with the tradition of virtually all RVs, are made of the cheapest, lowest-quality stuff that will just barely suffice. It also happens to have an outer covering, made of soy-based plastics which—you guessed it—rodents find extremely tasty!

The replacement hoses are of a much-higher quality, with a steel-brained protective outer layer, that rodentia cannot chew their way through. It runs about $5/lineal foot.

I’ll let you do the maths….

We hit the road to Colorado and arrived at our place May 3rd. 

Just in time for snow….!!!

View out the camper window, reminding us why we spend winter in Arizona….

And I thought my wrenching days were in my rear view mirrors…!!!

How a shopless mechanic works on their truck…

We haven't seen snow since early December 2024! We were reminded why we didn't miss the snow and cold. But I digress...

As I touched upon in my last blogpost, and this one, the situation, with respect to fuel costs, has drastically altered our plan of action, going forward. We’re still planning to motor on up to Clayton, Idaho, to be camp hosts at the May Family Ranch, and we’re looking forward to the adventure…just like our spiritual icons, Carl and Ellie…

Adventure awaits!

In Colorado, I got a whole bunch of ankle-biters done: refinished the dining room table, maintenance of The Beast, and most importantly, caught up with friends and family. Renee and I had some doctors’ appointments to attend to, and we visited with our tenant. We parked behind the old John Denver Festival stage, where we could hook up to electricity.

We departed Denver and did a series of one-night stays, along the route, at Harvest Host sites. HH is a service where owners of vineyards, restaurants, and other similar businesses allow you to stay in their parking lots, almost always dry-camping, one or two nights, usually free.

It’s customary to drop a few coin at these places; a few where we stayed…

Elk Mountain Lodge

No caption needed!!

We arrived in Clayton, Idaho on May 27th, and began familiarizing  ourselves with the ranch, and its owners. While we had some time, we visited Craters of the Moon, a simply astonishing volcanic feature a few hours away. It’s as a result of the same hot spot that formed Yellowstone NP.

Inferno spatter cone, a big pile of small volcanic cinders, up which we hiked!

The top three photos are of tree molds, formed as a result of hot lava flows surrounding stands of trees. The 2nd photo shows what the bark looked like. Some got knocked down (3rd photo), and some were standing and left a round hole in the lava (1st photo).

On our way back down Inferno Cone.

“STOP!! I see a rock!”

So, that brings you, dear readers, a bit up-to-date. More adventures to come!