Just doing it.

I had never cut a hole in a van roof before. I had put off doing it. I could turn a perfectly good roof into a leak. But if I wanted a vent in the Rolling Steel Tent, it had to be done.

There are professionals who do that sort of thing all the time. Better to leave it to them, right?

But what's the difference between the pros and I? They've done it and I haven't. They learned by doing.

Going back a few years, I had never worked on a motorcycle. I knew it was about nuts and bolts, but my biggest fear was that I'd open something and springs and parts would go flying and I'd need some big expensive machine available only in select parts of the world, and piles of money, to get everything back together.

But then I discovered manuals.

Duh.

Instructions with pictures. And warnings not to open certain parts or things would go flying.

With that, I was able to tear apart and rebuild an entire motorcycle. I should be able to do the same with something as simple as a roof vent.

Thanks to the Internet, there are all sorts of instructions and helpful advice online. It turned out I had the necessary tools already, I only needed some specialized materials, also available online. (Oh, the running around and phone calls saved by Google and Amazon.)

So, armed with tools, materials and knowledge, I needed only to wait for enough dry weather, which came yesterday.

(Lurking to the side, there, is the angle grinder that nearly severed my finger a few weeks ago.
Get back on that horse and ride, cowboy.)

Cutting the hole was quick and easy. Getting the vent sealed into it, water tight, was the tricky part. But butyl tape and a generous application of automotive window adhesive got the job done.

The black goop isn't terribly neat, but today's rain has shown it to be effective. I can make it pretty later. When it stops raining.

So, now I have my vent and the right to call myself a vent installer. I've done it before. I know what I'm doing.

What might you be able to do if you just did it?

Less

The van is almost complete. I think. It's clear, though, that my stuff needs more trimming.

How many pairs of socks do I really need?

What about the box of art supplies?

One seven-gallon water jug instead of two?

What's on these hard drives? Does not remembering mean there's actually nothing all that important on them? I need to check.

Nearly every shirt I've worn the past six weeks is now permanently stained with something or other. Do I keep some of them for when I need to do dirty work in the future? Or do I just toss them to lighten the load?

Tools. Wrenches (metric and SAE), pliers, screwdrivers, drill bits, clamps. A sledge hammer? Well, something might need to be pounded. Hard. Can I consolidate it into one tool box instead of three? Oh, wait, there's the electrical stuff, too.

Meanwhile, more things are on the way. A small folding table. A cell phone antenna. A wifi booster. Caulk.

I look back at this transitional life, living out of a 6x12 trailer in a friend's back yard, and think about what material things I've actually used—other than tools to outfit the van. Not much. Changes of clothes. Grooming needs. Bedding. Laptop...

I used to be proud that I could leave the house with just my wallet, keys and phone. I used to shake my head at all the stuff I had that was just taking up space. So why now do I worry that I might not have enough things? Because there's no home base? No anchor? Yeah, probably.

An Eventual Pilgrim's Progress

Insulation and interior paneling is done. Today I bought and assembled a storage cabinet. I think I'm going to put it where the passenger seat used to be. It needs to be well anchored somehow.

Back when I cut my finger, I was fabricating brackets to mount the solar panel to the roof rack. I took the two brackets to the powder painter on Friday. "Two to three weeks," they said.

They called this morning (Monday) to say the brackets were ready. "Um, yeah, it turned out we were already doing another project in white, so we could do yours at the same time."

So this afternoon I drilled the edges of the solar panel and bolted on the brackets.

When there are some extra hands around here, I'll get it up on the roof rack, mark and drill the holes, and bolt it in place. Then comes a scary part: drilling a hole in the roof for wires.

Be careful with sharp spinning things

This limits what I can get done. Time to take my antibiotic and painkiller.

Am I in Costa Rica or something?

The past two weeks have been day after day of high humidity followed by rain, followed by high humidity. I've left an open bucket to catch water. Eight inches so far. So I've spent the time finishing the insulation on the van walls.

Too bad insulation is about temperature and not oppressive mugginess.

I want to install the roof vent, but I need enough continuous rain-free time to cut a hole in the roof and get the job done.

When did this area become a rain forest?

Irony of the Day

Before going out to experience the world, it's best to insulate oneself a little from the world. At least from the heat and cold.

I've started installing insulation in the RST.

So, backing up a little

The past week was crazy time. Casting one's excess material goods upon the world is liberating, but it still means a lot of schlepping. And some heavy lifting.

And the clock was ticking.

There were some keep-or-give/toss decisions I couldn't make. The immediate thing was to empty the house. Put the I-don't-knows in the van. Those choices can be made later.

The paperwork was completed today. The house is no longer mine. There is no "home" to return to.

I was in Denmark a few years ago. In my grandfather's birthplace. Standing on a bluff, looking out at the North Sea. He, and my ancestors from England, Scotland and Ireland probably looked out at the ocean, unable to see beyond the horizon, going by the reports of others and motivated by their dreams and ambitions and... they went.

Americans tend to be restless because we are descendants of restless people. My restlessness has been building (again) for several years. This is my leap of hope. Things will be better in my new world, right?

Ghosts in the Machine

The crossbars of the roof rack come with plastic end caps. But they don't fit snugly. I worry they might blow off somewhere. So, until I can find a good sticky glue that will remain sticky even after years of UV exposure, I'm leaving the caps off.

As a result, the crossbars act like large flutes. The wind blows across the open ends, producing low whistles that change in pitch and quality depending on speed and wind direction.

At times, the whistles sound like distant moans and murmurings. Voices of the spirits of the road and the wind, perhaps. Are they trying to tell me something important? Or are they just complaining.

Ooooooooooooaaaaaaooooohhmmmmmwaaaaaaaeeeeeeoooooooooo...

What would you do?

Let's say you're a business owner, or just an employee in charge of shipping. And you want to maintain excellent customer relations. Okay? Got your head in that place?

Let's say a customer orders a bulky item and a couple of small items. Say it comes to $739.00. and the shipping from Arizona to North Carolina is $256.21 (because of the bulky item).

Let's say you send an email saying the order has been shipped. You even send a tracking number.

Let's say you find out from UPS that the shipping is actually $13.02 more than what you'd calculated. Oops.

Do you:

A. Find a way within the company to eat $13.02 in the name of customer satisfaction

B. Pay the extra $13.02 to UPS so the order can be on its way, but contact the customer, explain the error, apologize profusely, and invoice him for the extra shipping

C. Yank the order off the shipping dock and refund the customer's money. And claim you left messages about the $13.02 on the customer's phone.

Bye, Ol' Blue

I turned in my leased Civic today. Things worked out so I had only one more payment to make. No sweat.

After washing and vacuuming it was looking quite sharp. It was as if it was putting its best face forward while begging, "You don't want to get rid of me, do you?"

Kid, I'm sure someone will buy you quickly and treat you like royalty. Me, I have to move on to a different phase of my life, and you can't come along.

Low High Low

I've been driving the Rolling Steel Tent (RST) around town, running errands and such, getting used to its mass and its handling characteristics. So far, so good.

The RST is getting better audio stuff installed today, so I'm back to driving the Civic. And it feels odd. Getting down into it instead of up into the van. Sitting close to the floor, legs forward, instead of sitting as if in an office chair. Everything inside the Civic exactly where I left it, but with a microscopic layer of neglect and loneliness.

But, man, the Civic handles so much better. Light, low center of gravity, rack-and-pinion steering...

I went to the Honda dealer to check on what I needed in order to do the end-of-lease turn in. (Almost nothing.) So I'll clean out the glove box, door pockets and trunk and give it a farewell run through the car wash. Then it's adios, amigo. You served me well.

Its spot in the driveway will be taken by a dumpster. Then the new owner's PODS. Both of which the RST can outmaneuver.

The Rolling Parts of the Rolling Steel Tent

Getting new tires all around. Wallet is thinner.

Success with less

It didn't require three extra people to lift the ladder rack from the van. My buddy Steve and I got it done. Now it's time to wash the roof.

What's the point of plans if you can't change them?

I wrote before about mounting a solar panel to the existing ladder rack. After studying it out for a while, I've decided to remove and sell that rack and replace it with something simpler. And lighter.

Now I just need the help of three tall people or a crane to lift off the rack without scratching the van.

Meet the Rolling Steel Tent

So, here it is. Impressive, huh?

A plain cargo van formerly used by a security systems company. Bare metal inside except for rubber floor covering. Some shelving that might be repurposed. A roof rack that will hold a solar panel.

Sixty square feet of home. Just add bed, stove, sink, fridge, porta-potty, clothing, food, supplies. Christensen Transport & Storage.