Power hog

I've been editing some videos for a friend. That requires a lot of computing power, the processor working as fast as it can almost constantly. That sucks up electricity from my big storage batteries. The computer also powers the old-school external hard drive (spinning platter rather than solid state memory) that holds all the digitized video and related files. That means more power consumption. I need to keep the laptop plugged in all the time I'm working.

Meanwhile, there's the fridge doing its power consuming thing. I've turned up the thermostat a little. (Well, not actually "turned" up. You push buttons. But "pushed up the thermostat" doesn't make much sense, does it?)

We're creeping toward winter (yuck, winter), so there's less daylight for my solar panels. On top of that, we've had some overcast days, further reducing the amount of light available to charge the batteries. I've had to keep an eye on the charge monitor.

But today the sky is clearing, so I'm soaking up solar like a sun worshipper. O, Lord Sol, blessed be your glorious plasma orb and its nuclear fusion that gives us light and life! Shine on! Shine on! Banish the clouds that hide your gleaming countenance.

The wild horses came by at dusk

Sometimes I just need to do it the right way

There's the occasional mildly annoying, but not critical, problem with the Rolling steel Tent. I keep putting off repairs, because fixing the problems are really low priorities.

One example is the weatherstripping on the back door opening. The section along the top would droop down, and I'd just push it back into place. And then do it again a few days later. Then again. And again... The voice of reason in my head said, "Just fix it and be done with it." The slacker in my head finally agreed and got off his ass.

This is too neat to be me

I got proper weatherstripping adhesive, followed the instructions, didn't whine, and now it's fixed. I can't even pull the weatherstripping down.

Then there was the problem with the sun visor. The prong thing on the end of the visor had broken off when it was in the possession of the original owner. He'd done a rather clever repair. He'd found a tiny screwdriver with a handle exactly the same diameter as the broken prong. He shoved the screwdriver blade into the visor and, ta-da, fixed. But a few weeks ago, the screwdriver handle broke from the blade, allowing the visor to flop around.

I checked the prices of a replacement visor. New, used, salvage yards, eBay... They're shockingly expensive. So I'd have to think of an alternative. And I did.

I got out my epoxy putty, prepared a grape-sized ball of it, stuck it to the former screwdriver handle, and shoved it into the visor.

Allow a few hours for the epoxy putty to dry and cure, and I'm back in business.

I wonder what low level annoyance will next rise high enough in my consciousness for slacker me to deal with.

Hey, man, can I get a jump?

Everyone should have jumper cables in their vehicle. Because you can't depend on others having them. And because someday you might get to be a hero for someone who kept meaning to get cables but never got around to it.

My  cables came in a handy zippered bag. Great idea. No more tangled mess. Hurray for human advancement! So, where in the Rolling Steel Tent could I keep my jumper cables? Hmmmmm... Then I had an ah-ha moment.

Look at that space above the battery—the very battery I would use the jumper cables on. Would that space be large enough for the cables?

Why, yes it is. It's almost as if the bag was custom made to fit. Thank you General Motors. But would having the cables there cause a problem of some kind? After thousands of miles, I'm happy to report no. Best of all, when the guy at Doheny State Beach campground had a dead battery from his family of seven charging and recharging their phones and tablets, I didn't need to dig around in the van for the cables. Presto! Right there where I needed them.

More about you

The people running the Internet know everything about everything, including what I post on this blog. So Facebook fed me a link to a collection of TED talks related to Saturday's post about the self. It's some interesting stuff. Here's the link. I hope you have enough data allowance to watch them all.

It wasn't all rain

Here in Pahrump, at a mere 2,700 feet, we had two days of rain. Meanwhile, up on Charleston Peak (11,900 feet) it was snowing. Yeah, summer's over.

Lumen lust

Sometimes there's nothing to do on long winter nights around the campfire except compare flashlights. It's pretty much a guy thing, like comparing certain other cylindrical objects we hold dear.

"Look at mine. Five-hundred lumens."

"That's nothing. Mine is 850 lumens."

Then I whip out my foot long Bushnell. "Twelve-hundred eye-scorching lumens, amigos." There's awed, envy-laden silence.

Well, the lumen war keeps escalating. Now there's a flashlight bright enough and hot enough to start fires or use as a stove. A guy needs to have one, or he'll be considered laughably impotent.

Finding and facing the self

Living the nomadic life gives us a degree of freedom most of us have never had before. The fences of society are down and the gates are open. When others try to tell us how we should live, think and behave, we can give them the finger and move on.

Ah, but the big question is how do you live, think and behave when no one is telling you how, when you can't lay it off on society's pressures and restrictions? Do you like who you are when you're free to be you? Are you happy? Content?

The old saying is, no matter where you go, there you are. Well, there you are. Much of the crap of life has been stripped away, left behind. You're pretty much down to the essential you. What do you think of yourself? Of your self?

I hope it's great. Sincerely. I'd like everyone to be at peace with who they are. I'd like that to be the case even if they aren't nomads, rebels, hermits. Taking the Taoist view, you can't be happy unless you're following your own path through life to your own goals, to your own niche. And you can't know what your path is until you know yourself.

Not only is the unexamined life not worth living, it can create a pile of mistakes and despair. It can mean colliding with your self, and running from your self. It can mean no peace, no matter how deep in the boonies you hide.

I don't want to be another of those people telling you what to be. I'm just offering up something to contemplate. Or not. You're free to do whatever you want with my ideas.

A van, another van, a load of laundry, and the question man

It  was laundry day. Woo-hoo. The plus side: clean clothes, including new jeans (shorts weather is on its way out). The minus side: killing time while the machines do their wet, soapy work.

I was reclined in the Rolling Steel Tent, thinking deep thoughts (deep for me, anyway) when the owner of the Ford Transit I was parked next to popped his head in the door and started asking questions about my setup. Okay, no problem.

The thing was, he had an odd hitch in his speech that made him difficult to follow. I became uncomfortable. But then I realized, hey, he can't help it. It might make life harder for him. It might make it tough to make friends. It might even affect his ability to find employment. My discomfort was nothing in comparison. So I chilled as best I could.

The bigger issue, though, was that he'd ask questions then keep talking while I tried to answer. It was like he had all this stuff that needed to get out of his head. It was annoying, but, again, I realized he probably couldn't help it, that he probably had some misfiring circuits in his brain.

I thought our conversation was finished, but then he appeared at the back door with more questions and tangental monologue. I had to chuckle. But he soon bid me a good day, got in his van and left.

I went back to thinking my deep thoughts, including how I should be patient and non-judgmental with people whose problems are greater than mine. I thought about the lessons I learned from my encounter with the question man. I thought about how fortunate I am. I thought about how the load of laundry was probably done.

Should you become a nomad?

Cody has become more sociable

Bob's dog pays a visit

Desert life

That's the brakes, man

Shortly after I bought the van that would become the Rolling Steel Tent, I was driving down a mountain pass at about 50 miles per hour. Whenever I'd apply the brakes, the front wheels would shimmy. Violently. I thought it was an alignment problem. I went to a tires-brakes-alignment place in Rapid City, South Dakota, to have the problem diagnosed.

"Your rotors are warped," they said.

"Oh," I said.

"We can replace them or true them."

Truing is when they put the rotors on a lathe and trim them until they're flat again. It's a temporary fix. It makes the rotors slightly thinner, which isn't the best thing. It also means the rotors heat up faster. Heat is what causes warping. and since the rotors are thinner, they warp more easily. I opted for truing, though, because I wanted to save money.

Everything was fine with the brakes until the past few months. When I was in Colorado, going down a lot of steep grades, the rotors would heat up and warp a little. But after driving a while without any heavy brake use, it felt like the rotors cooled back to being flat. There was no pulsing in the brake pedal, no shimmy.

Even so, I talked to Forrest, my mechanic buddy, about replacing the rotors while I was helping to build his cabins.

"Oh, that's easy. Just order them online and I'll install them."

But I never got around to it. After all, the brakes were working fine.

Then, a week ago, as I was coming down the eastern side of Tioga Pass, with its 8% grade, the brakes started to warp very badly. Even though I was in second gear. Even though I'd apply the brakes only in short bursts. The next day, after the brakes had cooled, I could still feel a light pulsing in the pedal. Okay. It was really time to replace the rotors.

When I got the flat and decided to replace all the tires, I had them replace the rotors, too. And the brake pads. Maybe the flat was nature's way of saying, "Replace the rotors now!"

Above is one of the old rotors. Those shiny spots are bulges in the metal and shouldn't be there. Below is the new rotor peeking out from behind the wheel (a wheel wrapped in new rubber). The fine crosshatching helps break in the new pads. Then in it wears off and the rotor becomes smooth.

Almost makes me want to go out and do some hard braking

After they had everything installed, the tire shop also checked the alignment.

"Perfect," they reported.

So now I'm all set to go. And stop.

Feeling deflated

Ah, that feeling one gets when discovering a flat tire. A flat that you drove on for a while without noticing because the ground was lumpy. A flat that can't simply be patched because the sidewalls are all buggered up. The third flat in three years. Sort of a holiday tradition. I don't know which holiday. Halloween seems appropriate this time. Boo!

The puncture

The buggered sidewall

The spare in place

I suspect the hole was made by some bit of trash left in the desert by human trash.

Now, here's a challenge for GM engineers. Completely flatten a rear time on an Express or Savana, then try to get the spare out from under the van. No fair jacking up the van first, because it would dangerous to get under there with only the factory-supplied scissor jack. Oh, and you're on rocky ground. And it's about 55 degrees. (Not cold, but not pleasant.) Having fun yet?

Luckily, this flat happened just outside a city with several tire buying options. And with friends to watch me change the tire while offering their condolences. That's the proper way to do things like this.

On the outskirts of Pahrump

The desert can look bland or even ugly most of the day, but when the sun is setting or rising, it can be beautiful.

I'm camped a couple of hundred yards from Debra and Robert. Far enough for privacy, close enough for a short stroll. Bob and Carolyn will arrive sometime in the next couple of days.

There have been howling winds, which happened the last time Debra and I were within walking distance of each other. It might not be coincidence. But the air should calm down by tomorrow.