“What day is it? Thursday…no…Friday? Are you sure?”

~ Donna or Vic…at least once weekly

So much I could write about, but after almost 2300 miles, 12 campgrounds, 5 states, 4 national parks, 3 Harvest Hosts (referral link) and a Walmart parking lot, 2 attempts at a gray tank valve repair, and 1 pretty significant logistical oops, it’s hard to condense it all down.

So I’ll start with the oops, since it’s top of mind and still providing a few laughs.

On Sunday, August 14, we enjoyed a leisure morning on the last day of our week in Forks, Washington. We didn’t have far to go that day and check in time wasn’t until 1pm so we were in no hurry. Forks had been a nice stay with plenty of time to enjoy the northwestern corner of the northwestern state, exploring tide pools and rain forests, and the amazing hike down to where Washington dumps in to the ocean at the westernmost point of the lower US. This was the second week in our three-week tour of the Olympic Peninsula. We started in Sequim, Washington, where I had my fill of amazing seafood and we explored lavender farms and the eastern part of Olympic National Park. The upcoming week would be the last week in the region and we were celebrating our 3rd anniversary. We planned a week in Copalis Beach, Washington, and a nice RV park just minutes from gorgeous beaches. Vic made dinner reservations for us in nearby Aberdeen and we had hopes for horseback rides and maybe even renting mopeds.

Getting these three weeks planned and finding suitable week-long stays in each town was challenging when I made these plans back in April. Lots of places were filling up and those that weren’t full had few spots that we might fit into. It’s relatively easy when you can just plug the dates into the online reservation tool, but when you have to wait for return emails and phone calls, meanwhile hoping the campsite at the other place doesn’t get filled before you can confirm this place, it’s a little more challenging…and stressful. Getting the dates to align at three different campgrounds in three towns around the peninsula without backtracking was a puzzle, and one I was proud to have figured out. But it was done. We could relax and look forward to the experience.

Back to Sunday morning. We hitch up, have a light lunch before hitting the road, and set out on the 90 mile drive. Right around 1:00 we pull into Driftwood RV Resort in Copalis. Like many RV resorts and campgrounds, the camp host met us at the entrance to get us registered. I’m pretty sure her name was Mary, but I may be misremembering. There was a little confusion about which name the reservation was under and after a trip back to the office with no luck, Mary asked what site we had reserved. When I told her #15 she had a funny look on her face and headed back into the office a third time. I followed along, opening the reservation email on my phone to clear up any confusion.

And boy did the confusion get cleared up.

Remember how I said it was Sunday, August 14th? Well, our reservation in Copalis was for Sunday, August 21. A full week later, in the middle of a busy summer season, at a popular and well-reviewed RV park in a beachy place along the Washington coast. For seven nights. Not these seven nights, but the NEXT seven nights. I immediately flashed back to April when I was researching all available RV parks and campgrounds and despite this one being a little more expensive and having a very restrictive cancellation policy, we decided it was worth the risk because it was in the right place, we could fit, and the location was ideal. I recalled that there wasn’t anything else suitable for miles and if they were, they were further inland. And it was our anniversary week and we wanted to spend it at the shore….like when we first met.

After I recovered from the realization and explained it to Mary, she was relieved it wasn’t her mistake. I laughed. She sighed with relief. Then we both just looked at each other. “Well, do you happen to have anything at all we can use for a few nights?” While she set to trying to solve our problem, I had the pleasure of telling Vic what I’d done. He’d been patiently waiting outside and trying to help another driver navigate around our extended roadblock of the entrance. For the first time in two years, I’d goofed the dates and left us without a place to stay. Oh, I’m sure I’ve messed up dates before. But if so, it’s been quickly realized and remedied and never left us standing at check-in a week before our reserved stay. Did I mention the restrictive cancellation policy? We stood to lose almost $500. Now we both laughed. Because. What else would you do?

Back in to the office. Mary pulled a magic trick and was able to get us into one of the long-term spots that was vacant until Friday. Five days was a heck of a lot more than I could have hoped for. And it was a snazzy, landscaped spot with wonderful shade trees and a huge “yard!” We held out hope that the incoming reservation would cancel and we could stay the weekend, but nope. That didn’t happen. In the meantime, I’d gone back to the drawing board, between foggy beach walks and breezy naps. By mid-week, we had already decided that even if a different space in the park opened up, if we had to pack up and move, we might as well move on.

Needing a spot on short notice for the weekend meant we would likely stay in two different places. It wasn’t really worth the trouble of checking in, setting up, unhitching, packing up, hitching, etc., twice in two days, so we found a couple of Harvest Host locations enroute to our next stop that offered quiet respite, something to entertain ourselves, and didn’t require us to unhitch. Our batteries and propane would easily get us through the two days without power.

Both ended up being two places we probably never would have stopped at otherwise, but are happy we had the opportunity. The first was The Chehalis Washington Veterans Memorial Museum, an amazing collection of stories and artifacts from local veterans of all wars. We stayed in a field next door and spent quite some time enjoying the museum before cooking up an easy stove top dinner and watching the world go by.

The second was at Gather and Feast Farm in La Center, Washington. An event farm owned and managed by a catering couple. We slept to the tunes of coyotes and woke with the roosters. A quick visit to the farm stand yielded fresh eggs and homemade zucchini bread for breakfast.

Back on track and richer for the experience, we arrived on Sunday, August 21 at our next stay in Memaloose State Park. You can be sure I tripled checked THAT reservation! Also, because life is full of irony, just days after we arrived here a guest blog I wrote for Lippert posted to their website. The title? “How to plan an RV trip.” I feel like I should submit an edited version to include…double check the dates!

Our summer vacation comes to an easy end next week when we check in at Cape Lookout State Park (not that awesome National Seashore place in North Carolina – but another fabulous coastline on the other side of the country!) for our volunteer gig selling firewood to campers. With a 16 hour work week, maybe I’ll catch you up on the food, the fun road trips, and other excitement of the summer.

Safe travels!

“Let’s go camping…”

~ Me.

Way back in December when we planned our route, we strategically planned a few stops within a short drive of Denver for mid-June. Mom was planning to workcamp at Cherry Creek State Park there. We would make the drive in to see her or she could come to us in Salida, Dillon, or Granby. Fast forward to May when I get the amazing news that kiddo and his girlfriend, (Jordan and Katie) were MOVING to Denver in June! Holy cow. My closest family all in one place that isn’t the Southeast. All the stars aligned and they each chose the same weekend to visit us at our campsite in Coaldale, Colorado, just outside of Salida.

Most of our stops, we set up the RV to suit whatever adventures or touristing we plan to do. Just because we live in a camper, doesn’t mean we are always camping. We don’t always unload everything, or set up the chairs and fire pit, sometimes we don’t even unhitch the truck. But this was a camping trip, and family was coming and they were sleeping over, so we pulled out all the stuff. And of course, this campsite was one of the most …compact…ones we’ve stayed at in a while. But we managed.

We got there a few days before family arrived, so we took a trip to The Royal Gorge where Vic couldn’t resist the pull of flying through the air at unreasonable heights. While he ziplined, I sat in the airconditioned comfort of the cafe. It was a fun day though. Sometimes you just have to do the touristy things! Oh, and we saw Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep!

Throughout our stay, we marveled at the brave (crazy?) souls rafting the frigid Arkansas River. It was fun to watch them from near the bridge downtown while we enjoyed a beer and slice of pizza. Wanting to be part of the culture, without all the getting cold and wet stuff, we opted to visit a nearby river rest stop called “Drift In.” It isn’t quite the same as “The Gulf” in Orange Beach, Florida, but it was a nice way to pass an hour or two at the river.

Family all arrived within about five minutes of each other and we had a great time squished around the campsite catching up. The following 24 hours were filled with more of the same, sprinkled with scampering inside to avoid the rain, folding and unfolding the chairs, moving into the shade or sun – depending on the temperature, Vic grilling while holding an umbrella, and just watching the cows go home. Lazing about on Sunday morning with coffee and donuts and a smorgasbord of reheatable breakfast goodies was perfect. We were sad to see them all go, but excited to know that kiddo would likely be in Denver for the foreseeable future and we can’t wait to come back to see him again!

Our next stop, Dillon, was nothing to write home about. Literally. I have nothing really to say about it. We spent most of our two days there relaxing and resting up for the holiday weekend. We considered driving into Denver, but between the rain and the Stanley Cup championship parade, we decided to stay put! Besides, our campsite was beautiful!

That about catches us up to our current digs in Granby, Colorado at a fancy-shmancy RV Resort. The jury is still out, but I think we might like the change of pace.

“If it smells like vomit, don’t eat it!”

~ Ryan, Mild to Wild Jeep Adventures Driver/Tour Guide

After a short ride up a long bumpy forest service road, and negotiating tall alpine trees getting into our campsite, we took one look around and questioned whether ten days in Durango, Colorado, would be enough.

It’s never easy to figure out how many days we want to spend in a place. We have freedom of movement for the most part, usually only constrained by volunteer commitments months in the future and whatever drive time it takes to get there. It’s hard to pass an interesting area and not try to spend a few days, but then you end up only having a few days to spend anywhere else. It’s a real problem, lol. Using those “Top Ten Things To Do…” articles, visitor services websites, google maps, and just gut instinct, I usually get it pretty close. But while I knew Durango was nicely situated in the San Juan Mountains with easy access to the Four Corners, Mesa Verde, several historic mining towns, numerous hiking trails, and offered fun excursions like train rides, jeep adventures, and rafting, I never got a good sense of the absolute joy that Durango itself could be.

A town ideally situated for tourists and adventurers, it isn’t a “touristy” town. Dozens of restaurants and breweries dotted the historic downtown, and not a national chain in sight. After a quick stop in the visitor center, (VC) we took a stroll of the main street noting the posted menus and realized we didn’t have enough meals to sample all the ones we were interested in. The lady at the visitor center had also given us a list of the live music and events going on. Nope. Not enough time.

We had a few pre-reserved tours and activities planned, the first was a guided hike of the Long House Cliff Dwelling at Mesa Verde. The hike was only about two hours, but the affair took all day with all the driving and walking to the tour trail head. We’d planned to return a different day to bring our bikes and ride around the loop and also visit the other mesa. But we never did. Instead, we opted to ride our eBikes along the Animas River Trail in downtown Durango. A fun 12 miles of multiuse trail along the river, watching the rafters and kayakers along the way and enjoying the easy pace. Of course, a stop at a brewpub was called for at the end of our trek.

The Cascade Canyon train ride was packed with beautiful scenery. But I’m glad we only did the half-day short ride. By the end of it, we were ready to be done. The last of our pre-arranged adventures was a jeep tour into La Plata Canyon, just west of Durango. This, by far, was some of the most fun we’ve had on a guided tour. We rode in an open air jeep driven by Ryan who, in addition to being a highly skilled 4WD jeep driver, was an expert on edible plants AND local history.

On our maybe-do list was a drive up the Million Dollar Highway into Silverton and an overnight at Black Canyon of the Gunnison. After the windy mountain roads enroute to Durango, the windy roads up to the Long House tour at Mesa Verde, the windy steep climbing track into and out of La Plata canyon, we opted not to spend a rainy day driving a windy mountain road into another mining town and to see a hole in the ground. As fabulous as both of those places seem, they will have to wait for another trip. Instead, we stopped back in the VC and asked the lady there what some less-visited attractions were closer to town. She directed us to a brochure highlighting a tour of 14 tree carvings memorializing the nearby Vallecito Canyon fire in 2012. So off we went…

And I’ve hardly mentioned the food, the music, the farmer’s market, the Junction Creek hiking trail, our amazing campsite, and just the overall pleasantness of the town and people we encountered: Elk chops, bison burgers, fresh pasta, delicious ahi poke bowls, Ragtime Pianist at an old historic saloon, a santa-lookalike strumming out some classics at the 11th St beer garden in the rain…

Turns out that ten days was enough this time around, as usual we were ready to go when it was time to pack up. But we left knowing we could return and have just as much fun, and maybe get to a few more of those things from the maybe-do list. For now, it’s off to our next Colorado stop. This one involves family visits!

“I need to ship you quantity 1 of CRE2-35-single, to replace this equalizer.”

~Ryan, MORyde Customer Service Rep.

Any time we are packing up to leave, at regular intervals during longer stays, and I think sometimes because he’s bored, Vic is often under the trailer inspecting things. And it’s a good thing, too! There was that one time the bracket holding the fresh water tank had popped loose. Another time there was a bolt stuck in one of the tires. And sure enough, as we were getting ready to leave Carlsbad he noticed a crack in our suspension mechanism. Not to get all technical, but that’s the thing between the two axles at the tires that keeps things bouncy. Sort of like shock absorbers. And when you live in a 32′ long box that hits all the same potholes your truck does – you want these things to work reliably. This was a thing that needed fixing.

We made the decision to leave the campground we were at and get closer to urban services. Roswell, only an hour away, was the answer. We’d already planned a few layover days further north along our route for maintenance and resupply, so our schedule wasn’t terribly disrupted. We just did those things in a different place. The temps didn’t get any cooler and we’d already enjoyed the three big tourist traps, so we did laundry, prepped a few meals for our next stop, and waited for new suspension parts to arrive.

The part arrived Tuesday and the work was planned for the cooler part of the day Wednesday morning. With some help from Jose, the tow service guy equipped with a pneumatic jack (because you really can’t lift an RV with a bottle jack), Vic got us back on the road Thursday.

We ended up in Grants, NM, for two nights. We passed through there on last fall on our return from California. That time, we stayed at a Harvest Host location called the Rt 66 Junkyard Brewery. We booked a campsite nearby this time, but did pop in to the brewery for a visit. We both knew it wouldn’t be as fun as the first time, when we met other RV travelers and all sat around trading tales from the road over local craft beers. But it just wasn’t any fun at all this time and the food was not nearly as tasty. Oh well, can’t win them all. We did find a gem of a visitor center at El Malpais National Monument. We had no desire to hike, or to even drive the scenic route to the overlooks, but did want to see what we could learn at the visitor center. And wow, we were blown away by the movie, the exhibits, the museum – all of it! One of the most impressive ones we’ve visited.

After a restful day in Grants and a good night of sleep, we hit the road again – finally headed for that higher altitude. Timing really is everything. Our present campsite is up a US Forest Service Road in the San Juan Mountains in Durango, Colorado. Two miles of washboard rutted dirt road up mountain switchbacks. I am quite sure that had Vic not noticed the cracked suspension, we probably never would have made it up that hill in one piece! But we did. And wow, is this place amazing! New birds, tall Ponderosa Pines, creeks with water in them, a fun downtown scene, Mesa Verde National Park, trains, jeep rides…I’m not sure ten days will be enough.

Until next time…stay bouncy!

Goin’ places that I’ve never been, seein’ things that I may never see again…

~ Willie Nelson

After three months of Texas adventures and birdwatching at Balcones Canyonlands, we packed up and started our summer journey. Departure days can be stressful and after months of not going anywhere proceeded by weeks of my not being able to participate fully in the preparations, I was a little anxious. But the hitching up went off without a hitch. We both chuckled when, as we made our final walk around before pulling out, the sky started spitting on us. Not really rain, but as close to is as we’d like for a travel day.

The drive was easy. We only had a few noises of unidentified origin that needed attention and more tire-sensor headaches, but both were easily remedied. We’d planned for a short travel day and due to the overnight temperatures we needed electricity to run the air conditioner overnight. San Angelo Texas State Park was a good fit, and since we were only staying the night, I’d selected a long enough site so we wouldn’t have to disconnect the truck. But when we arrived with plenty of daylight to spare and temps in the high 90’s, we unhooked and headed to the blissful coolness of a movie theater. We got lucky – they had those super comfy recliners and there was hardly anyone else in the theater. Maverick was a fun watch and the snacks made for a simple and convenient dinner! Overall a great first day on the road.

We made a fast getaway the next morning, having re-hitched the 5th wheel when we got back from the movie. Not entirely sure that was a wise choice given the fantastic severe thunderstorm that rocked and rolled us for hours just after bedtime. (Had we stayed unhitched, the trailer legs would have provided more stability.) The morning greeted us with fresh just-rained air and local wildlife.

A long and uneventful travel day brought us to our campsite here at Brantley Lake State Park in New Mexico, near Carlsbad Caverns. I have always assumed that if the campsites are large enough for us to fit, then the campground entrances and roads will as well. But I won’t make that mistake again. We barely made it past the entrance kiosk! Worth it though for the expansive view over the reservoir. It made it easy to watch the evening thunderstorms. After several early starts, we are enjoying a leisure morning before heading into the depths of the Caverns. Pretty excited that we were able to secure tickets for the Big Room and a tour of King’s Palace.

We are happy to be back on the road on our own schedules. Volunteering is rewarding and certainly serves several purposes for our way of life. But not being beholden to a place or schedule, even just taking the time to relax this morning rather than rushing out to see what there is to see is pretty great. We have three full months of goofing off before we go back to “work.” We will probably be ready for the break by then!

“I got lucky.”

~ Vic after his blood pressure returned to normal

Since we aren’t yet on the move, and I’ve already backfilled the blog with mundane FAQ’s and other filler posts, I was wondering what I’d write about this week. Turns out Mother Nature had just the answer.

Remember that weekly “fluid management” chore that RVers must attend to? Vic has it down to a science and it is generally a chore he does. It wasn’t always this way. I can do it. I know how to do it. But generally speaking, he does it. Way back before we really knew what we were doing there was a time when we flooded the bathroom because we really didn’t have it all figured out. It’s easy to get distracted when you are waiting for a tank to empty or fill. But, like I said, he’s got it all figured out. Timers are employed, no chance of flooding, and our plumbing stays in great condition thanks to his meticulous methods.

He could almost do it blindfolded now. You get used to the sounds, the timing. Even in less than ideal weather, it takes him no time to run out and switch a hose or shut off a valve, or pull a handle. I’ve gotten used to the patterns of his coming in and out and can anticipate that he is “almost done” at the right time. So a few nights ago, after it had cooled and as I was cleaning up from dinner, he was winding down this activity. We were going to watch a movie. So he goes out for the last pull/lever/valve whatever and I set up the entertainment.

But he doesn’t come back in as quick as I’d expected. Hm. No biggie. I’m adjusting the windows and blinds inside and see him standing behind the trailer holding my hiking stick. It’s the one we keep by the front door in case I need it for something (warding off a stray coyote?) That’s curious. Why his he just standing there propped up on the stick watching the hoses? That’s not part of the routine. Then I see our neighbor (Carl, the maintenance volunteer) rushing out of his RV with his truck keys, saying “I’ll be right back.” I slide open the window and ask Vic what the heck is going on. Without taking his eyes off whatever he’s looking at, he points to a place outside, but directly beneath where I am inside the trailer and whispers “A snake. It’s a snake! Come out and see for yourself!”

I’m out like a flash, but not before grabbing the phone. Because, wildlife, camera, 911, who knows, you might need your phone! So I take a wide berth around the back of the trailer and now we are both out there in our loungewear and flipflops, him holding a hiking stick, me armed with a camera and there it is. A frigging rattlesnake curled up against the sewer hose.

The very sewer hose that Vic had been stepping over, maneuvering around, walking past and otherwise using for this “fluid management” chore for the last 45 minutes. “Has it been there the whole time?” I asked Vic. NO!

I was walking over to turn off the water at the spigot and just as I reached for it, I heard the rattle. In one instant, I turned and saw it retract down and slither over to the hose and also managed to jump about 6′ in the other direction. I must have stepped right over it on my way to the spigot. I got lucky.

A rough paraphrasing of the first hand account from Vic

So here we are. Standing guard over the sewer hose that is sheltering the first snake Vic’s ever had a close encounter with. A true Texas Rattlesnake. And it is NOT happy. Coiled up in the bend of the hose, head poised to strike, just glaring at us, daring us to take one step closer. No problem. That’s not happening! I retreat to the nearby (but further away) picnic table.

So what does Vic do? Hands me the stick and tells me to keep an eye on it while he goes inside to put on pants.

Because pants help.

Finally, Carl returns with a grabber. Not the kind we use to pick up trash, but the kind they keep around to aid in relocating snakes apparently. You know, the ones they keep in the shed with other tools and equipment for volunteers. Nope. Never seen it before in my life. In fact, while we KNOW this is a wildlife refuge, and while we’ve mentioned to more than one visitor at the trails that this IS rattlesnake country, and having heard from another volunteer about one they saw at the trailhead at Doeskin Ranch, we just never even considered they might come visit us at home.

After explaining that he will just pick it up and take it for a long walk, Carl casually walks over and, not without effort, snags the snake – who is VERY unhappy at this point – and takes it about 100 yards away behind the rv pads into the brush. Of course, my camera didn’t cooperate. So you don’t get the picture of Carl holding the 4′ long grabber with a very angry rattle snake flopping and flipping around at the end of it. Nor do you get the picture of the shirt Carl was wearing advertising his experience with invasive Pythons in the Florida Keys while volunteering at a refuge there. He was the right guy for the job!

None of us even questioned what we would do with it, this is a refuge after all and we are just visiting. So all we can do is hope we traumatized him enough that he doesn’t come near the RV pads again. So far, the strategy has worked with the little mouse we had to relocate (yes, the dang thing returned and after two sleepless nights, was humanely trapped and given a new home.)

Once he’d recovered from the excitement, Vic offered that he had no idea what he thought he was going to do with the stick. He’d quickly dismissed the idea of just chasing the snake off, knowing that I would want to know where it went. That’s when he knocked on the neighbors door, who was fortunately at home and knew where the grabbers were.

And that wraps up our wildlife interactions this week. We unwittingly fed a mouse, relocated him, then sheltered a rattlesnake (who might have been looking for said mouse?) and relocated him. In both cases, we are hopeful that they were lone travelers, without family and friends. Or if they had friends, they told them how unhospitable we are. Yes. It is time to go.

The quick trip we took last week to North Carolina not only let me experience kiddo’s college graduation, but also broke up the routine of being in a place for more than two months. We set up here at the refuge the first of March and are scheduled to leave June 1st. It didn’t take us long to learn that 8-12 weeks is ideal for our long-stay adventures. Which is helpful since a lot of places we apply for volunteer positions prefer at least 6-8 weeks, some even longer. Regardless of how much we enjoy a place, or the volunteer duties, we generally get itchy around the end of the second month. By then, we’ve seen the biggest things we want to see, done the exciting things we can only do in that place, and found our favorite shops and restaurants. We joke that once we can get around somewhere without using our GPS, it’s time to leave!

So we returned from our celebratory escape expecting a week of dull recovery, sameness of workdays, and doing whatever we could to stay cool in this atypical May heat wave. Sidenote here: I assured Vic, based on my 3+ years of living in San Antonio that Mar-Apr-May was perfect weather in the Texas Hill Country, that it didn’t get OMG Hot until at least July. Heard from the weather guy this morning “This is July weather we are having, folks…” Dull recovery and familiar workdays were not to be had. Here’s how the week went:

Monday: Having pulled our carryon bags from the under bed storage (an RV bed that lifts up on hinges) we had to put them back. Since we were there (literally UNDER the bed) we might as well purge and reorganize the whole thing. Which means taking most everything out first. So very NOT relaxing, nor conducive to travel recovery! But we did it. And had a nice pile of stuff for donation. And room to store the space heaters we certainly don’t need right now! Fine. Ok. That task done.

Tuesday/Wednesday: Gym, chores, groceries, and finally some relaxing while running both air conditioners full blast.

Thursday: It was a workday, but I was determined to get some yoga in. Barely done with my coffee, I set up the yoga mat, put in my earbuds, and started up the video. Nice, easy flow, first this way, then that way…then “What the hell!?!?” A shadowy blob scurried past me toward the kitchen! Hearing me yell, Vic grabs a tissue and runs out from the bedroom, expecting to rescue me from a spider or other multi-legged insect. Thirty minutes later, and after turning the living room into a disaster zone we finally shooed the cute little field mouse back outside. But no time to put the place back together, we’ve got to get to work.

Friday: We hiked Rimrock trail (a first for me). Easily the most difficult trail at Doeskin Ranch (a unit of Balcones Canyonlands NWR), I was excited to conquer it. Granted, it’s only 1.6 miles, but after months of hobbling around in a clunky boot with a broken foot, it was so liberating to be able to scamper up and down the switchbacks with no hesitation (but with the use of hiking poles, for sure!) Ok, scamper might be an over-exaggeration. We took our obligatory post trail pb&j sandwiches to the Shin Oak Overlook (yet another unit of BCNWR) where we were serenaded by several Black Capped Vireo and even managed to get a glimpse of a female flitting about.

Saturday: We packed our chairs and water and made our way to Doeskin Ranch again, but not to hike, just to sit and help visitors find suitable trails. On my way out, I’d grabbed my trusty digital camera just to give me something to do while we sat at the trailhead. We joke with guests that there’s really no need to lug those super-duper high-power cameras up the ridge, just sit here and wait. Several weeks ago, I’d heard a Painted Bunting, but never got a glimpse of him. Today, however, even before we heard him we saw a couple of Cardinals and some other bird in the brush not far from us. I’d already dismissed it as anything interesting, but Vic took out his monoscope and commented about it not being a cardinal but having a red belly. As soon as I put the scope to my eye, I recognized the magnificent plumage. I hadn’t even unpacked the camera yet, and managed to do so both without dropping anything or losing site of the fancy bird. My day was complete!

The next two weeks we will turn our energy toward departure preparations: Vic will focus on any maintenance that’s due while I’ll make sure we have a place to go and a safe route to get there. If the weather breaks, we hope to get the eBikes out at least one more time, and I’d still like to make it up Indian Grass trail (an extension of the hike I did this week), but I’ll be happy if we don’t have to rearrange the RV again for any reason!

“Yeah, they were supposed to remove that a few weeks ago…”

~ Joe, the kind NOCP officer who kindly, though impatiently, assisted us.

It takes a lot of planning to get us and the 5th wheel from one place to another without incident. And by incident I mean without pulling in to a gas station with a low canopy or finding ourselves at the end of a one way street with no way out. There’s a YouTube channel full of these sorts of incidents. Its our goal to never make prime time!

To help with this, we use an RV specific app for our routing, and I use google maps street and satellite views to look at parking lots and campgrounds just to make sure we can get in and out if there’s any doubt. But there are some things that just don’t show up on any apps or maps…

Having enjoyed Pensacola for a couple of weeks, we started out in earnest on our first cross country trip with the RV. Being a road trip, we wanted to take our time and hit some fun spots along the way. I’d booked a night at a brewery just outside of New Orleans and figured out a way for us to visit Cafe de Monde on our way through the city the next day. They have two locations and the one on the north side of town was in a park. Google maps showed a great parking area just a block away from the cafe. This was perfect! We could enjoy the brewery, sleep comfortably, get up and be at the park for a nice morning café with beignets, then be on our way to our next stop. Easy Peasy! I even called the park to ask about the parking lot. Satellite view showed temporary barriers, so I wanted to make sure we could get in and out and that there was, in fact, bus parking as the images showed. No problem, the lady says. It’s all good, come on down and enjoy the park! No low bridges, no dead ends, no U turns.

We hit a few snags on our way out of Pensacola, one I don’t remember, probably something to do with hitching up or loading the motorcycle, but the other was the power pigtail (the cord from the RV to the truck to operate the running lights and trailer brakes) was wound around the hitch and kept disconnecting with every right turn. This took several stressful miles to figure out. You really don’t like seeing your dash light up with “Trailer Disconnected” alerts while you are hauling down the highway at 55 mph! Anyway, between this and the other hiccup, we’d lost some time and we weren’t going to make it to the brewery for our Harvest Host reservation. Instead, we stopped at a trusty WalMart that allowed overnight parking.

No problem. We are adaptable. We could still visit the park and have our New Orleans treats, just a little later than planned. We didn’t have any firm reservations for several days, just a goal for how far we would drive each day to stay on our travel timeline. The drive was uneventful and we found the park with no trouble. Just like the lady on the phone said, we easily navigated into the bus parking area. We hopped out, locked up and set off to the cafe.

It was a lovely midday. Despite COVID, or maybe because of it, there were plenty of people out and about in the park, enjoying the nice cool February morning. We stopped and listened to a violinist, watched some ducks, and enjoyed stretching our legs. The coffee was strong, the beignets delightful, and we were on top of the world.

We mosied back to the RV and settled back in for the next few hours of driving. The exit to turn onto the main park drive from the parking lot was a little tight, but we managed without hitting any curbs or cars. To get out of the park, we had to drive along this one-way avenue past the cafe, over a canal, then around the round-about and we would be on our way. As we passed the cafe, and the last opportunity to take a different direction, we came upon the old sort of bridges you find in parks, with the pretty iron railings, and that go up steep for about 75′ then down the same distance, the sort that you can’t see the other side of until you are at the top. Up and over. No problem. We took slow, just to make sure we didn’t drag the bottom of the rv or that the hitch didn’t bind up. Vic was driving, watching the road ahead, I was watching the hitch and the view, noting that the cafe was really busy now.

He hits the breaks hard!

“What the hell is that!?!”

“We aren’t going under that!”

Tensions immediately escalated, vocabulary got colorful, confusion abounded.

There, straddling across the one-way one-lane road barely 75′ past the bottom of the bridge was a metal scaffold-like tunnel. With lights strung all around it. Not a built in, go under a mountain sort of tunnel. But a 10′ tall temporary light tunnel installed for some event. The sort of thing that doesn’t show up in maps or on apps. The sort of thing you cannot predict no matter what you do to make sure you have a good route. Road work, sure, understandable. Temporary detour, no problem. A warning sign telling you of a temporary hazard, ok-great, thanks! But a light tunnel? Oh, did I mention we are 13′ 6″ and there was no chance we were getting under that thing. Also no way around it since it spanned the entire avenue and there were trees and curbs and signs and other things on either side.

Yeah. We weren’t going to get very far this day, either!

Vic’s out there measuring, just in case our eyes were deceiving us. Meanwhile, I called the non-emergency police number and got transferred to the city parks police department. After explaining (at least twice) to the dispatch that we were a 55′ long 13′ 6″ truck and trailer stopped on top of the bridge outside of Cafe de Monde on Dreyfous Drive because of a light structure in the road, he agreed to someone to stop traffic for about a block behind us so we could back up over the bridge.

An agonizing ten minutes later, Officer Joe arrived and set up his cruiser so we would have plenty of room to back up. Now, if you’ve never pulled a trailer then you’ve certainly never backed one up, over a blind hill, with an audience. We certainly hadn’t! When we first got the RV we both practiced backing up in a big, empty, flat, parking lot. It wasn’t easy, but we sort of had it figured out. But that wasn’t this. This was nerve wracking. I positioned myself at the back of the RV with Vic driving, using the cell phones to talk to each other. He couldn’t see behind him and it was hard to tell if the RV was going straight back or not. Meanwhile, Officer Joe, wondered loudly how long this would take and did we know what we were doing.

Twenty long agonizing minutes later, and to a round of applause from the cafe, we were backed up and turned down the other street. Rattled, but also wanting to get the heck out of there and back to the known risks of Interstate 10 where there was no chance of a 10′ light structure impeding progress.

But wait. There’s more.

This new route we were on to get out of the park was not vetted. I’m pretty sure the ancient Live Oak trees lining the street claimed the radio antenna off the top of the RV. And I’m glad that’s all they claimed!

Yes, the beignets were worth it!

We get asked these questions all the time by fellow travelers, perfect strangers, and family. We understand this isn’t a conventional way of life or even a conventional way of retirement, so here are the simple answers to most of these questions.

Where do you live?

Here. We live here. Wherever “here” happens to be, that’s where we live. Presently, we live on a federal wildlife refuge near Lago Vista, Texas.

No, really, like where is home?

Here. Truly, home is where we go to at the end of every day. But I know what you are asking. You want to know where we park this thing when we aren’t traveling. We don’t. We travel. We go from place to place. But I’m being a smartass again, aren’t I? Ok, so our legal residence for all those pesky bureaucratic requirements of being a functional adult is Norcross, Georgia. We have lovely family there who we visit with at least yearly and we watch the dog and house when they travel. They graciously forward our mail and provide a sort of anchor should we need a place to go.

How do you pick where to go next?

For the past two years, we set a distant destination based on our interests and planned the route around points of interest or attractions or friends we wanted to visit along the way. The first year, we secured a job in California and planned a route that took us through the Southwest on the way there and up through the Pacific Northwest on the way home. This year, we decided to return to Oregon. We secured volunteer positions in Texas and in Oregon. Our route there will take us from Texas through Colorado, taking advantage of the weather as summer creeps along. We think next year will be some route toward Maine along the Eastern Seaboard. That planning is just beginning now…

How do you afford to travel all the time?

Honestly the rudest question we probably get. Well intentioned and innocent, I’m sure. But rude, nonetheless. How do you afford your home? Your car? Your vacation? Your kids’ college? Your fancy shoes?

We’ve lived a life that provided us opportunities to earn and save. We consider ourselves very lucky in that we have our health and the fruits of our early years. And, as Vic would say, we are fortunate that our stars aligned when and where they did. I retired early, he invested well. We prioritize the things that are important to us and are frugal when we can be. And we take care of our truck and our camper to fend off any damages that can come from neglect or misuse.

Another tactic that works for us is to plan at least half the year in places we don’t have to pay site fees for. We can do a few weeks or months here and there as volunteers, usually in places we want to spend some time as “locals” then we travel and roam the rest of the time.

How do you find those volunteer gigs?

Diligence. Patience. Resourcefulness. Federal lands like National Parks, Historic Sites, Nature Preserves and Refuges post volunteer opportunities on volunteer.gov. Most state park systems have their own websites and a process for you to register as a volunteer. Sadly, not all states’ volunteer portals are easy to navigate (Florida, I’m looking at you!) but most make it really easy. No matter the agency or process, there is usually some form of application, resume, hours for site negotiation, length of stay requirements, and scope of work discussions that happen.

What do you miss about having a real house?

Nothing. I’ve had several. Completely overrated. And besides, we do have a real house. It just happens to be portable. Sure, there were some initial challenges to overcome: deciding what “stuff” to get rid of, adapting to not having reliable internet and cell service, never knowing where stuff is at the grocery store. But as far as having a “brick and mortar” house, we don’t miss a thing. We simply traded “fluid management” for yard work, and we still have spring cleaning (and summer, and fall, and every time we pack up to move). We still wash windows and dust. But just like in a real house, we have a place to sleep, cook, eat, work, relax and play. It’s just most of those spaces overlap.

Don’t you feel cramped up in such a small space?

Nope. Our RV is 28′ long inside with a high ceiling and lots of windows and a back end that completely opens to create a screened in porch feel. The bedroom is “upstairs” in the front of the 5th wheel and has its own door we can close. We have a set of nifty swivel recliners that we can just turn around whenever we want a change of view and each place we set up camp we can arrange the space differently for a change of space. Aside from the physical characteristics of the RV, there’s are also earbuds for watching tv or listening to podcasts “alone”, books, respect for each other’s space, and the occasional hobbies or errands that we do separately. And of course, there’s always outside.

How long will you keep this up?

For as long as we can and until we decide to do something different! I’ve personally been traveling and living this way for almost ten years and haven’t grown tired of it yet. Granted, I didn’t have an RV, but I volunteered, traveled, planned long road trips, worked seasonal jobs, etc. I am super lucky to have met someone with a similar spirit of adventure and wanderlust. Vic shows no signs of travel weariness yet either, so I think we have a long way to go!

Where’s the best place you’ve been?

Well, that’s a tough question. This could probably be a series of posts all by themselves. Yep, that’s what we’ll do…share some favorite places. Stay tuned….

“So, you like walk the trails all day?”

~ some random person when we told them what we were doing at Balcones

Yep. That’s almost exactly what we do.

You can read all about the refuge at the Fish and Wildlife Website. This refuge, just 30 minutes from Austin, TX, was specifically established to protect the nesting grounds of the black-capped vireo and the endangered golden-cheeked warbler. During the spring nesting season, birders come from all over to try to catch a glimpse of the tiny songbirds. They traipse through the nearly ten miles of trails spread between two separate units of the refuge: Doeskin Ranch and Warbler Vista. Trail Docents (that’s us) help folks figure out what trails they might want to take, answer questions, and are generally just around as a presence.

And no, we knew absolutely nothing about the birds before we got here. Nor had we ever set foot on the trails. That’s part of the fun of volunteering at places like this, you get to become quasi-expert at stuff you never knew you wanted to know. Learning about the birds was the easy part. Vic was able to explore more of the trails quicker than I was since those dumb medical walking shoes are not exactly trail-friendly and apparently multiple broken meta-whatevers take a long time to completely heal.

Luckily just before our arrival, the park was gifted with a sweet Mobile Ranger Station for us volunteers to haul to the trail heads and set up as a remote visitor center. We can loan out Junior Ranger backpacks and have all the maps and field guides there to help answer questions. But most folks confuse us for a food truck and try to order breakfast tacos or ice cream.

The Nuts and Bolts of It All

Most places that we volunteer offer us a site to set up our RV and connect to utilities in trade for a pre-determined number of hours each week. Here at Balcones, we are parked up on a ridge on refuge property that is closed to the public. We both work the same three days a week and mostly work together throughout our shifts. The different units we frequent are about 17 miles apart, so the refuge has trucks we use for our work days. There are three other RV’s up here for other volunteers, some of them we overlap days with but mostly just see them in passing.

“Wait, you work together in a small trailer AND live together in a small trailer!? Don’t you get tired of each other?”

~ anonymous

A typical day starts around 8am when we check in and get our tasks for the day/weekend. We are usually set up at whichever trail by around 9am. If we have the Mobile Ranger Station, we open up and wait for folks to ask us questions. Otherwise, we pick a trail to walk, stopping to note any problems that need addressing or talk to other hikers. At Warbler Vista, there’s a really nice covered deck at the end of one trail that we can perch for a while out of the sun and wind. (See the photo in the collage at the top.) At Doeskin, the trails all start from a central hub, so we can set up our chairs there in the shade and watch the scissortail flycatchers chase each other around. We are packing up and heading back to headquarters by around 3:30 to check in, return vehicles, and take care of anything needing doing. Home with our feet propped up by 4:30, being entertained by the birds.

We’ve had volunteer gigs that were as short as one month, but 2-3 months is ideal for us. We will leave here at the end of May and spend the summer goofing off before we get to our next assignment in Oregon in September. That gives me about four more weeks to get my rear up to the top of Indian Grass Trail at Doeskin Ranch. It’ll take me all day, but I’m determined to do it now that I’m back in regular hiking shoes!

As for the living and working together – we’ve not grown tired of it yet and I can’t imagine that happening!