A loaner for a loner

I have this bike to use while at Coyote Howls. Lou got it from someone who got it from someone. The front wheel bearings are rather crunchy, but it's good enough for cruising over to the restroom and showers. Mmmmm, showers.

El Rancho Lou

I'm spending some time with Lou at his winter headquarters in the Coyote Howls RV park in Why, Arizona. He has an annual lease on the space. That allows him to bring in a storage building and an extra trailer. And he can dress the place up, within limits.

The cargo trailer he used to haul a lot of stuff down here has been turned into his guitar studio and lounge. And there's a solar panel array on the roof that also powers his shed. And the rug really ties the room together.

The shed (which I call The Barn) serves as his workshop. It has me thinking I should come up with more improvements to the Rolling Steel Tent while I'm here and have access to tools and assistance. Hmmmm...

Telling myself no. Maybe.

I should be good at this adult thing after more than forty years. The separating of needs and wants, the prioritizing, the budgeting, the waiting, the discipline... That should be especially true in the case of things I was living contentedly without—until I learned of their existence. Then, like a little kid, I can think of all sorts of reasons I absolutely need it. Or I'll die!

The latest challenge to my maturity and semi-minimalist ethos is this camera gadget. The Syrp Genie Mini. It would allow me to do smooth, stable, panning motions when I'm shooting videos. It would make my videos more visually interesting. It would let me do time lapse shots. It's a little larger than a hockey puck, so it wouldn't take up room in the Rolling steel tent. But it's $250. Ow. But way less ow than a $1,500 motorized, digitally controlled camera slider, so it would be a bargain. Right Mom and Dad?

The true, good and proper adult in me has won out, though. For now. My inner spoilsport disciplinarian said, "Don't go making this decision right after payday when you're feeling flush. Wait to see how much you have left at the end of the month."

"Oh, okay."

"And then we'll have a discussion about building up the Rolling Steel Tent's maintenance fund."

"O-k-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay."

"And the biannual insurance payment that keeps catching you unprepared."

"O-k-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ay."

"This magic genie thing..."

"Syrp Genie Mini."

"Whatever. It can see how it would be a necessity if this little video hobby of yours were making any money, but..."

"O-KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYY! I get it. I get it. I won't get it. Yet."

Desert humor

 Shade Tree

Horn Works, Try The Lights

Who needs stealth?

When going unnoticed isn't on your list of priorities, when you don't care about blending in, go ahead and be a circus. Invite attention. Then use the attention to make a buck or two.

If your 1951 Austin doesn't sufficiently stop crowds on its own merit, add murals and a moose head. For starters. Then put out your donation sign. I dropped a couple of dollars in the pot. A literal pot cradled in the front bumper.

Bless who?

There was dust in the air. I broke into a fit of sneezing—the kind of sneezing you do (or at least I do) when you’re outside, with no one nearby, so there’s no need to cover your mouth. You can just let it rip. Loud, full-body sneezes that really clear the sinuses and even leave you a little high. Totally gratifying sneezes.

When I finished, the guy camped about a hundred yards away, whom I’d never met, called out, “Bless you.”

Whenever someone responds to a sneeze with Bless you I wonder why no one does the same when people cough.

Okay, so Bless you has it’s origins way back in the days of widespread ignorance when they believed you were expelling demons, or perhaps even your soul, whenever you sneezed. Well, and some wet stuff they didn’t know contained germs. Today most of us accept we aren’t spewing literal devils, yet we still bless and get blessed.

Meanwhile, we know a hacking cough is a symptom of all sorts of nasty medical problems, some of which can kill you. So why no Bless you? Not even an enlightened, I-know-this-is-just-a-cultural-artifact-not-Beelzebub-fleeing-your-body Bless you that acknowledges you’ve got a problem and hopes it’s nothing serious.

Accidentally inhale a bit of pepper dust and you’ll get blessed from all sides. But hack up blood from a cancerous lung and they might ask if you’re alright, if you need help, get you some water, or a doctor—sensible things. That’s good. That’s better than a knee-jerk Bless you. But why were coughs ignored in the old superstitions? Who decided coughs didn't warrant blessings? Weird.

So, to all you coughers, hackers, wheezers and chokers out there, bless you, bless you, bless you. Bless. You. I hope you get better.

Pass it on. Start a new tradition.

Not universally true

Nearly all RVers, van dwellers and other nomads know the story and treat it as gospel. Sam Walton thought it was a great idea to let RVers stay overnight in his store parking lots. It built good will for the company and the "Wallydockers" would usually spend money in his stores.

But these days there are local governments that don't like the idea at all. They've banned all sleeping in vehicles, except in campgrounds. Some snooty towns claim vehicle sleeping attracts people, well, unlike themselves. Others say it attracts crime. And I suppose there are some (RV park owners, perhaps?) who can't stand others getting something free. Walmart complies with those ordinances.

There are also some Walmarts that have had their fill of the type of campers who abuse the store's hospitality by setting up long term camps, littering, leaving messes in the restrooms, making trouble with shoppers and even dumping their black tanks in the parking lot. Those stores have unilaterally banned overnighting.

So, unless it's obvious, from the clusters of RVs at the edges of the lots as night rolls around, that a particular Walmart is camper-friendly, check first. A lack of signs prohibiting it doesn't necessarily mean it's allowed. Ask in the store. The situation might have changed since you or someone who recommended the location were last there. And staying at Walmart or some other big box store shouldn't be your only plan. Always have a Plan B—which is sort of a universal truth for all things in life.

Traffic alert

Having completed the two-plus-year road project at 16th Street and 4th Avenue, Yuma must have been at a loss for a way to mess up traffic and harm businesses.

"I know," proposed someone in authority with questionable connections to a road construction company. "We could repave 32nd Street! Shut down a bunch of lanes, close off left turns... It would be great!"

For those who aren't familiar with Yuma, 32nd Street is one of the main business thoroughfares. Lowe's, strip malls, office buildings, restaurants, gas stations, car dealerships, the airport, the Marine Corps Air Station, the fairgrounds, mobile home parks, RV sales and service places, churches, Walmart...

Luckily, I discovered the traffic jam while driving the direction that's still fully open (as of today, anyway). The poor folks going the other direction (west) were backed up as far as I could see. Miles? And this was on a leisurely Sunday. The rest of the week must be hellish.

Repaving takes far less time than widening and reconfiguring a major intersection, so maybe it will be done before peak snowbird season starts at the end of the month. Or not. I'll just avoid the area.

Dead dreams

"Bombay Beach on the Salton Sea" sounds exotic, maybe even fun. That was the intent. But it's actually an ecological mess. Increasing salinity and agricultural runoff have made the sea unpleasant at best, toxic at worst. The resorts were abandoned yet residents hang on.

Net worth

When it’s a great day to have all the doors and windows open on the Rolling Steel Tent (like today), and I want to take a nap (which is, like, every day) but there are annoying flies, I have little choice but to annoy them back.

I get out the mosquito net I bought at REI a couple of years ago. Not only is it a physical barrier, it’s also coated with the repellant, Permethrin. The flies like that stuff as much as I like them. And if the Permethrin doesn’t scare them away, my ugly mug will.

Considering a pet snake again

I was visited by at least one mouse when I was at Joshua Tree. I smelled it, then heard it scritchy-scratching away at a bag of tortilla chips. It scurried off when I shined my flashlight on it, but I couldn't tell whether it left the van. Probably not.

The next couple of nights seemed mouse-free, but last night the odor was very strong. Was it the same mouse or a new one? I hunted around and saw nothing.

I emptied a lot of stuff out of the Rolling Steel Tent this morning and found a few mouse poop pellets under the bed. I cleaned them up and scrubbed the floor and cupboard interior. Hey, as long as it didn't chew any wires under the hood.

Now, some people would suggest a cat. Maybe a small, skinny one that could squeeze into the van's nooks and crannies. But I'm slightly allergic to cats. And litter boxes smell as bad as mice. And too many of them end up as coyote snacks. (They were howling last night.)

But a snake might be the thing. Clean, quiet, able to go wherever mice do. Much lower vet bills. And I could get a badass snake tattoo. The trick would be keeping the snake from slithering away in the night instead of staying on mouse patrol.

I might get the tattoo anyway.

Detour

Let's say you're traveling west on I-8 out of Yuma (like I was this morning) and you want to head to the various free dispersed camping areas along Ogilby Road (like I did this morning). Well, there's a slight problem with that. The never-ending rebuilding of I-8 means the westbound Ogilby Road off ramp is closed until spring. At least.

All is not lost. Continue two miles to the Grays Wells exit, or to that weird rest stop in the middle of the highway a little farther along, and loop back to the eastbound Ogilby Road exit.

But watch out for the California Highway Patrol guy lurking on the shoulder, hoping to catch people speeding in the construction zone.

Overcast dawn, Yuma Proving Grounds

Non-sleep pattern

Have I become one of those old farts who wakes up at 4:00 AM and decides to just get up and putter around in the dark? Yes.

Decisions, decisions...

What’s the best van? What’s the best way to stay warm and cool? What’s the best state for residency? And so on.

These are just some of the things that need to be figured out if you’ve decided to become a nomad. And there are many possible answers—many of which start, “It depends…”

The number of decisions and the mountain of choices can be daunting. Sometimes it leads to analysis paralysis.

Analysis paralysis, or paralysis by analysis, is the state of over-analyzing (or over-thinking) a situation so that a decision or action is never taken, in effect paralyzing the outcome.

The interwebs are filled with advice on how to overcome analysis paralysis. I like what Louis C. K. has to say about it.

So my rule is that if you have someone or something that gets 70 percent approval, you just do it. 'Cause here's what happens. The fact that other options go away immediately brings your choice to 80. Because the pain of deciding is over. 

”And," he continues, "when you get to 80 percent, you work. You apply your knowledge, and that gets you to 85 percent! And the thing itself, especially if it's a human being, will always reveal itself—100 percent of the time!—to be more than you thought. And that will get you to 90 percent. After that, you're stuck at 90, but who do you think you are, a god? You got to 90 percent? It's incredible!

There might be times, though, with some people, when deep down in their murky subconscious the anxiety isn’t over making the wrong choice. It’s about finally making a decision at all. It’s about removing the obstacles. It’s about no longer having reasons to avoid taking the leap. Because giving up the known life of living in a building (even if that life isn’t going well) can be scary.

I think the more certain you are you want to do something, the fewer obstacles you see, or the less troublesome they appear. Conversely, the greater your ambivalence, the greater the obstacles—with yourself being the main one.

As for that best van question? It’s the one, of those which happen to be for sale at the moment, that meets enough of your requirements, and that you can afford.