Category Archives: Van Life

May18

Luci Light

Posted on by
Standard

I first heard about the Luci light at the 2015 Rubber Tramp Rendezvous (RTR).

Someone brought one to the gadgets workshop, a kind of show and tell of devices helpful to van dwellers. I didn’t attend that workshop, but someone (maybe Miss M) who was there told me about a really cool, inflatable solar light that had been shared with the group. Later during the RTR, I met a  couple of women who had Luci lights and raved about them. The lights  sounded great, and I wanted one for sure, but I didn’t get around to buying one until I was just about on my way out of the city.

I’ve been living at a campground with no electricity for nearly a week, and I love my Luci light.

When I bought my Luci, it was flat, like in this photo I took. (It was a little bit neater when I bought it; the edges were lined up.)

When I bought my Luci, it was flat, like in this photo I took. (It was a little bit neater when I bought it; the edges were lined up.)

The Luci starts out flat, and is easily inflated by blowing into the valve.

Inflating Luci. (Self portrait)

Inflating Luci. (Self portrait)

Luci's almost full of air. (Another self portrait.)

Luci’s almost full of air. (Another self portrait.)

Here's Luci fully inflated.

Here’s Luci fully inflated. (I took this photo too.)

Because Luci is full of air, it is very lightweight and easy to carry. There is a loop for hanging on each end, and the Luci light floats. (I haven’t tested the floating part.) It’s also waterproof and designed to withstand extreme temperatures and wind.

If I am sitting outside reading after dark, I use a clothespin to attach Luci (with LEDs up) to my shirt near my shoulder, and I have plenty of light to see the words in my book.

The other night Luci was pinned to my shirt while I was reading. I got up to do a few little chores around the campsite and simply left Luci attached. I had plenty of light to see what I needed to see to do what I needed to do. I probably didn’t have enough light to do brain surgery (not that I’d do brain surgery anywhere, much less in the woods in the dark), but to lock my doors and fold up my chair, it worked great!

This photo I took shows Luci lighting up my van.

This photo I took shows Luci lighting up my van.

It’s difficult to tell in the above photo, but Luci lights up the van well. It works as well as either of the two battery operated lanterns I have. Actually compared to how those lanterns work after the batteries have been used for a few hours, Luci works much better to light up the van. The battery operated lights fade after just a few hours of use.

Luci illuminates the whole van enough for me to see to dress, undress, put things away, or cook a meal. If I want to read or do any kind of close-up work, I have position Luci so it shines directly onto what I want to see. It generates plenty of light for reading, although I usually have to move it around to find a good  position so shadows don’t block what I’m trying to see.

Because Luci is powered by the sun, I don’t need batteries for it. That saves me money and saves resources used to produce batteries, as well as keeping dead batteries out of the landfill.

These are the Luci's solar panels. (Yes, yes, I took this photo too.)

These are the Luci’s solar panels. (Yes, yes, I took this photo too.) The orange dot in the middle is the on/off switch.

The company that makes Luci says that 8 hours of solar charging (in direct sunlight) will produce 12 hours of light from Luci. (According to the FAQs at https://www.mpowerd.com/frequently-asked-questions-and-information-booklets, “[w]hen Luci is set on Bright [lowest light setting] she provides light for up to 12 hours after a full charge.”) I’ve read reviews where people have shared different experiences with how long Luci’s light lasts. I usually use my Luci less than four hours a night, so I can’t really speak to whether or not it shines for 12 hours at a time. In other reviews I’ve read, people have said that they have multiple Luci lights and some hold a charge and provide light better than others do. Again, I can’t speak to that issue.

Luci has three settings: bright, brighter, and flashing. So far, I’ve only used the bright setting, which has been adequate for my needs, although maybe I wouldn’t have to have the lantern so close to my book if I used the brighter setting. I guess the flashing setting would be helpful in an emergency (including an emergency dance party).

My friend suggested that I get two Luci lights so I could be sure to always have one charged and ready to go. When I left the city, I really didn’t have the money for that, so I just bought one. So far I’ve been good about putting it out in the sun to charge every couple of days, and so far, Luci has shined for as long as I’ve needed light. If I do find myself in a position where Luci is not fully charged when I need light, I have my two battery powered lanterns as backup.

One woman I met at the RTR told me that she’s had two Luci lights, the switch in both of which broke after repeated use. Both times she contacted the company that makes the lights, and they sent her a new one. This information has motivated me to be very careful with the switch on my Luci. The switch works with a push. One push turns it on. To turn it off, I have to push it again, which takes it to the brighter setting. I then have to push it another time, which takes it to the flashing setting. I push it one final time to turn it off. I could see how doing this multiple times each night could wear out the switch.

The company’s FAQ (at https://www.mpowerd.com/frequently-asked-questions-and-information-booklets) says,

Luci has 300-500 cycles of full charge, so the length of time she lasts depends on frequency of use. If you fully charge and fully discharge every single day, Luci lasts approximately 2 years. If used less frequently, she will last for many years.

The Luci light is made by MPOWERD. You can find out more about the company at www.mpowered.com. (I took this kind of crappy picture.)

The Luci light is made by MPOWERD. You can find out more about the company at www.mpowerd.com. (I’m not sure why this photo turned out kind of crappy.)

This is what MPOWERD says about itself on the website (https://www.mpowerd.com/our-story):

We Stand for Solar Justice™

MPOWERD™ aspires to empower people everywhere with innovative and affordable personal clean energy products. Inspired by the 2010 earthquake in Haiti that left millions without power, MPOWERD was founded by a group of like-minded individuals in 2012 who wanted to “do good by doing well.”

Headquartered in New York City, MPOWERD is a fast growing consumer products company that develops and manufactures brilliant, transformative clean energy products and solutions for people living and playing on and off the grid.

There are several styles of Luci Lights available. They can all be ordered directly from the MPOWERD website (https://www.mpowerd.com/products). Amazon.com also has some varieties available. If you live in or visit a city, Luci lights are also available at Big 5 Sporting Goods stores.

I recommend Luci lights for folks who ever find themselves in the dark and wanting light, even if that’s during a power outage. They store in such a small space, and according to the MPOWERD website (https://www.mpowerd.com/frequently-asked-questions-and-information-booklets), “When not in use, Luci holds a full charge for about three months. After that, she retains up to 50% of her charge for two years.”

[amazon template=image&asin=B00DQ1RDWS]

May12

The Question

Posted on by
Standard

Today my new boss asked me the question. She asked it hesitantly. I could tell she did not want to offend me, but she did want to know.

Why do you live in your van?

I gave her the most basic answer first, the one that is most honest, but that tends to make people uncomfortable and stops conversation.

I was homeless, so living in a van was a step up.

Should I not say that to people, even though it’s true, because they don’t know how to respond? Should I not tell my new boss that I used to be homeless? Should I be ashamed that I was homeless? Should I be ashamed to live in a van?

I went on to tell her the other reasons I live in my van, the ones most van dwellers and rubber tramps give. I like to travel. I don’t like paying rent. The van is enough for me. I don’t need a big RV because I am by myself. I told her, I don’t have any kids. I don’t have a man. Or a woman. (Did I come out as bisexual to my new boss? Is that more or less risky than admitting I used to be homeless?)

She seemed to understand that van living might be an ok way to live for a person who likes to travel. I told her I sometimes wish I had more space, but I’d probably just fill more space with junk I don’t really need. She seemed to understand that part too.

Then the conversation turned (as it so often does) to being a woman traveling alone and safety and being brave.

I told her I pay attention to what’s going on, I stay alert. I told her I don’t drink or party or use illegal drugs (good information to work into a conversation with a new boss) so I can be aware of what’s happening around me. I told her if sketchy people start doing sketchy things, I put the key in the ignition and drive away.

I told her, I’ve had shit (should I have not said “shit” to my new boss?) happen to me in my own home (and by own home, I actually meant other vans, cheap motel rooms, and under bridges) with someone I loved. Bad things can happen anywhere.

The other woman in the conversation piped in with Yeah, something bad could happen to you walking out of Vonn’s (the local supermarket).

When I was in college in New Orleans, I worked in the French Quarter. I didn’t have a car, and I couldn’t always get a ride, so often I’d take a bus home at midnight. There was no other way home. (A $10 cab ride? Give me a break!) I needed to work to support myself, so I stood at a bus stop in the French Quarter in the dark, and I walked from where the bus dropped me off to my house in the dark. One day I realized if I could be out at night because of work, I could be out at night to have fun.

What I’m saying is if my own loved one caused me harm, why should I be scared of strangers? Are stranger scarier than what I’ve already been through? I’m sure some of them are, but I try not to be an easy mark for people with bad things on their minds. Besides, someone could just as easily break into an apartment in a city and “get me,” as break into my van in the woods. (The one better chance I might have in a city is that maybe people would hear me scream and maybe those people would try to help.)

I don’t think what I do is so much braver than what millions of women do every day all over the world. Is traveling alone braver than walking miles to haul water and firewood, cooking and cleaning and having too many babies? Is traveling alone braver than living through war, seeing your loved ones die, having your home destroyed by bombs? Is traveling alone braver than taking a beating so your kids or your siblings won’t get hit? Is traveling alone braver than carrying on after being raped by soldiers or sold into a life of sex slavery? Is traveling alone braver than living in a city among poverty and violence, worrying that you or someone you love is going to be killed by a cop or a gang member with a gun?

When I look at it that way, my life seems good, and I seem really safe.

If I’ve done anything brave, it’s not living alone in a van, traveling, working as a camp host in a forest. If I’ve ever done anything brave, it was finally walking away from a bad situation (even if by walking away, I really mean sneaking off in the night) when I thought I had no friends or family to help me, when I was convinced I was a bad person and the universe was going to deal with me accordingly.

I’m just like so many other women in the world, doing what I do to survive, to help others, to find a little beauty in my life.

May8

Staying Warm

Posted on by
Standard

My #1 way of staying warm while living in my van is to go somewhere warmer when the weather gets colder. For example, in 2014, I left Northern New Mexico at the end of October and went to Southern New Mexico, where I stayed for November and December. In January 2015, I went to Arizona and stayed in various places in that state until I went to the California mountains at the end of April.

People often ask me if I stay warm enough in the van at night. Staying warm at night is not a problem. My bed is raised about two feet, so my body heat isn’t lost to the floor, and I have storage space. I sleep on two layers of memory foam, which is notorious for making people hot. I wear long underwear and socks to sleep when I need to, as well as a hat if it’s particularly cold. I have plenty of blankets, including two sleeping bags and a knitted (crocheted?) blanket stored flat under the memory foam and on hand for any really cold situation.

My bed lies across the back of the van, up against the back doors. On the side opposite the back doors, I have a curtain (a sheet I paid $1 for at a thrift store strung on a bungee cord) that I can pull for privacy. I found out early on that the curtain holds in quite a bit of my body heat. In hot weather, I often have to leave the curtain open at night so I don’t get warmly uncomfortable. When it’s cold out, I’m glad the curtain holds in the warmth.

Once I’m in bed, I’m warm. Sometimes I even get too warm and have to push the covers down for a while so I can cool off in the chilly air.

The problem in cold weather is getting out of the bed, either to get dressed and get out of the van or to move around inside the van (to tidy up or to cook, for example). Sometimes it’s too cold inside even to sit up in bed to read or write.

While I was in Southern New Mexico, temperatures were getting down in the low 30s at night. I researched how other rubber tramps stay warm in their vehicles.

One idea I found on a couple of websites was burning a candle. Candles (supposedly) raise interior temperature in a vehicle by 10 degrees. Of course, one must be careful with the open flame. (I have a lot of fabric in my van—curtains, rugs, blankets, clothing strewn about—so I have to be particularly careful not to catch everything I own on fire.) One must also be careful not to let the candle use up all the oxygen in one’s enclosed space, which can lead to death. This means one must leave a window open at least a crack when using a candle inside a vehicle.

I wondered if leaving the window open—even just a crack—negated any heat produced by a lit candle. However, I was willing to give it a try, so I walked down to one of the locally owned gift shops and bought a small (overpriced, artificially scented) candle. I tried burning the candle a couple of mornings. I (thankfully) did not catch anything on fire, but I didn’t notice feeling any warmer when the candle was burning. I decided the candle experiment was a failure.

At the time, I was staying in an RV park with electrical hookups. I considered going to Stuff-Mart and buying a small electric heater. (I think they run $15-$20.) I decided not to do that because I very seldom stay in my van in places with electrical hookups. Even a small heater would take up precious storage space when not in use, and I wouldn’t use it enough to justify having it.

The last week I was in Southern New Mexico (the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve), the temperature dropped to 28 degrees. I was lucky because I had gotten a house and pet sitting job. I stayed in a lovely warm house with a nice cat and a nice dog, and I didn’t have to think about heating the van.

During my internet research, I’d read a bit about portable propane heaters. Several van dwellers I read about swore by them. I didn’t rush out to buy one because #1 they’re a little pricey and #2 burning propane in the van causes the same concerns as burning candles.

At the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous (RTR), I talked to people who used propane heaters in their vehicles.

The Divine Miss M had a Mr. Heater brand Portable Buddy heater, which was a popular choice among folks at the RTR. (I don’t know why exactly, maybe I heard someone else refer to the heaters this way, but I call this type of heater Mr. Buddy.) Miss M loved hers, said it got her station wagon plenty warm, but did stress the absolute necessity of leaving a window open a crack when using the heater inside. She assured me that the heater produced enough heat to overcome the cold let in through the partially open window.

I stored the info in my brain file for future reference. I wasn’t in the market for a heater, although on some chilly mornings in the Arizona desert, I would have welcomed a few minutes of concentrated warmth.

At one of the very last group gatherings at the RTR, during announcements, a man said he had a brand new Mr. Buddy heater for sale. He said he’d just bought it from Amazon.com for $69 ($20 less than normal price, I was told) but had found a heater he liked better at the Big Tent. He wanted to sell the heater for $69, plus another $20 or $30 for the supplies to hook it up to a large propane tank. When I went to talk to the guy selling the heater and told  him I was interested in the heater but not the accessories because I didn’t have a large propane tank, there was a grumpy old man already looking at the items. The old man snapped at me that I needed a larger propane tank because it was cheaper to buy propane that way. Rather than snap back at the old coot elder, I just told the guy with the items for sale that the old guy could buy it since he was there first.

Before I could get back to my van, the seller had come after me to say the old guy didn’t want the heater and I could have it for the $69 he’d spend on it. I bought it.

I tried it out a couple of times before I left the RTR (thanks to the bottle of propane Miss M gave me to use with it). It worked great, warmed the van quickly. It was just enough heat to get me motivated to get out of bed and get dressed. I told Miss M that Mr. Buddy was my new boyfriend!

Then I went back to the City and didn’t stay in my van for upwards of three months. Mr. Buddy was packed in a plastic storage tub, and I didn’t think much about him. Until…

It’s cold in the California mountains, even in May. Seems like the temperature starts dropping around 4:30 in the afternoon (16:30, military time) and doesn’t warm up again until the next day around noon. Sleeping is fine. Actually, I sleep better when it’s chilly and I can snuggle under piles of blankets, so sleeping is excellent. It’s the between times that are trying.

I get up early to do a check of the campground, sweep the restrooms, make sure there’s enough toilet paper. I decided I needed the warm motivation only Mr. Buddy can provide, so I’d already planned to unpack him when I heard the high the next day was expected to be only 41 degrees, and there was a possibility of snow. I pulled Mr. Buddy and his propane bottle out of the plastic crate and fired him up before I crawled into bed. In about ten minutes, the van was toasty.

When I got up in the morning to pee, I fired him up again until I warmed up. Oh yes, Mr. Buddy and I are sure to have a long and happy relationship.

I took this photo of my boyfriend Mr. Buddy in my van.

I took this photo of my boyfriend, Mr. Buddy, in my van. The propane bottle fits right in on the side.

Safety Precautions I Follow with Mr. Buddy

#1 I open at least one window at least a crack before igniting Mr. Buddy’s flame.

#2 Because there is an actual flame, I make sure no fabric is near Mr. Buddy’s front.

#3 I never leave him unattended. I DO NOT exit the van or go to sleep while Mr. Buddy is on.

#4 When I turn off Mr. Buddy, I unscrew and remove the propane bottle. Some people don’t do this, but I take this precaution so I know no propane is leaking.

While writing this post, I remembered another idea for getting/staying warm. I learned this one years ago from a New Englander in New Orleans. Drinking or eating something hot is a good way to warm up from the inside. However, when I’m cold first thing in the morning, I don’t necessarily want to crawl out of my warm bed to heat water for tea.

img_2813For my birthday, my host family gave me a Stanley thermos. It keeps water hot for a long time. I used it while working the essay scoring job so I’d have hot water for my lunch. I’d heat the water in the morning, put it in the thermos, and the water would still be hot enough at lunchtime to prepare noodle soup (ramen noodles and the like). One day I didn’t use the water for lunch, and the next morning (24 hours later) when I opened the bottle, the water was still very warm.

So this is my idea: Before I go to bed, I’ll boil water and put it in my Stanley bottle. I’ll put it next to my bed, along with my mug and a teabag. When I wake up in the morning, I’ll pour myself a cup of hot tea before I even get out of bed. Sounds lovely.

 

I did not receive any compensation for the endorsements of the products in this post. I wrote this post after I already owned the products. I just like ’em, and I think my readers might like them too.

If you click on either of the photos below, you can shop on Amazon through my affiliate link. If you do your normal Amazon shopping through my affiliate link, I receive a commission from your purchases at no cost to you!

[amazon template=image&asin=B0000643KA]

[amazon template=image&asin=B002G51BZU]

Mar26

Better Van News

Posted on by
Standard

After a routine oil change resulted in a laundry list of supposedly needed repairs that were going to cost upwards of $2,000, the Lady of the House gave me the name and number of a mechanic her family (and her friend’s family) have used in the past. The Lady thinks the guy does good work and believes him to be very honest. I called him before the weekend and made arrangements to bring the van in to his shop early on Wednesday morning.

Our phone conversation was very enlightening. He seemed surprised by how high many of the prices given by the first garage were. He asked me how long the “check engine” light had been on. When I said it wasn’t on, he wondered how the first garage knew about a certain problem if it wasn’t because of the “check engine light.” He asked how much oil was ending up on the ground; when I told him I didn’t see any oil on the ground, he wondered why the first garage would recommend one of the repairs if hardly any oil was leaking. Before he even looked at the van, I felt reassured that maybe the van wasn’t in as bad a state as I had been led to believe.

I arrived at the garage bright and early on Wednesday morning. The mechanic remembered me and our phone conversation. He took the van into one of the bays to look it over. I didn’t wait long before he came back.

He said that yes, there were small oil and coolant leaks. However, the leaks were so small that no fluid was hitting the ground. He said he wouldn’t even worry about these leaks unless they got worse. He said to be sure to check the fluids regularly. I told him that the guy at the other garage said I should check the oil and coolant every other day. The second opinion mechanic said I should check the fluid once a month, or if I wanted to be super cautious, every two weeks.

Obviously those other guys were trying to scare me into having work done that isn’t even currently necessary.

The second opinion mechanic did say I need some front end work. The thing is, when you start taking things apart up there, it’s better to change as many parts as possible because you only want to pay labor once. So to get the front end tiptop, it will cost about $700, which I’ll be able to do once I get my first paycheck from the soon to start temp job.

I feel better about the van.

In tooth news, I called the my dentist’s office and explained to the office manager what happened at the endodontist’s office. The office manager said that the endodontist had not sent the report, but that she would call his office and ask for it, show it to the dentist, and call me back. She never called back. I guess I have to add that to my list of things to do.

Mar22

Oil Change Revisited

Posted on by
Standard

Last we left the oil change saga, I had gone to a locally owned auto repair shop that turned out a little sketchy. After that encounter, I got online and found a shop with really good reviews. People said they were honest, did good work, didn’t do work that wasn’t necessary. It all sounded fine, so I called in the morning to find out when I could come in.

The main who answered the phone had the swoon-worthy voice of a radio announcer. This man was smooth. He said an oil change for the van would cost $19.99. He told me to come on in, and they’d take care of me.

When I arrived, there were already several people sitting in the clean waiting area. The big television was playing a morning news show. After checking in and meeting Mr. Swoon, I settled in with my book, confident that I would soon be happily back on the road.

After some time, another worker called me up to the desk and told me that they’d found some problems. Every time he’d name a problem, I’d say, What does that mean? After two problems, he called Mr. Swoon from the back to deal with me.

Mr. Swoon was very nice and patiently explained everything to me in language I could (almost) understand. I had already told him I didn’t have any money, mentioned the new crown and the root canal that I still need. When he finished listing everything wrong with the van, I asked him how much it would all cost. He said about $2,000. That’s when I started to cry.

Here’s a list of the things wrong with my van and how much the repair will cost.

Lower intake manifold gasket leaking ($825.50)

Transmission mount ($165.50)

Upper ball joints ($385.50)

Inner and outer tie rod ends ($416.50)

Rear main seal leaking ($650)

Upper and lower radiator hoses ($149.95)

Fuel injection service ($109.95)

Fuel filter ($85.50)

Shocks ($289.95 x 2)

Of course, some of these repairs aren’t urgent. Shocks? I’ve never had a van with decent shocks. Aren’t shocks just about comfort? I’d rather spend money on my air conditioner instead of buying shocks.

And I could probably buy parts online or at an auto parts store and save money that way. I didn’t ask, but I’ve done that before when I was having Sears work on one of my vans. (I don’t trust Sears any more because workers at a Sears in Ohio straight up lied about what was wrong with my vehicle.)

We all know that if I buy the parts myself and get an individual to work on my van in his/her backyard, I could save myself a lot of money. The problem is that the person I trust to do this kind of work is in another state, and I don’t know who to trust where I am.

So I started crying. Not sobbing, just tearing up, but then the tears started to fall. I tried to dry my eyes on the sleeve of my shirt. I apologized, and Mr. Swoon got really flustered. He told me he’d finish the paperwork, so I sat down. I quit crying pretty quickly. Crying’s not going to help, so why keep doing it?

When Mr. Swoon finished writing up the recommendations, he called me up to the counter. He asked me if I was ok, and told me they’d take care of me. He even grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze.

As soon as I got back to van and into the driver’s seat, I received a phone call about a potential job. I was taking that call when I saw Mr. Swoon walk out of the office and head towards me. I thought he probably had some business with the vehicle next to me, but he came right over to my open door and asked me again if I were ok. I had to ask the temp job recruiter on the phone to hold on, then assure Mr. Swoon that I was indeed ok. He seemed really worried about me.

I wondered again later to the Lady of the House why more people aren’t bursting into tears when they hear bad news while sitting in the chair at the dentist’s office or when the guy behind the desk at the auto repair shop tells them the work their vehicle needs will cost more than what they paid for the vehicle in the first place. We decided most people are just numbed out, either by the day-to-day struggle to survive or by the drugs (marijuana, meth, anti-depressants, anti-anxiety meds, pain killers, whatever) they are using to help them get through the day. The Lady wondered if fewer people would need drugs if they allowed themselves to cry in front of the mechanic or dentist or whoever is asking for more money than they possess.

I don’t doubt the van needs work. It’s a 1992. I just don’t know if it needs everything this place says it needs, and I don’t know what can wait and for how long. So now I have to start the process of finding a garage to give me a second opinion.

And the $19.95 oil change? It cost me $24.45. That’s a lot of tax, I thought, but found when I looked at the receipt that the tax as only $1.30. However, there’s also a $1.20 charge for “supplies” (on top of the $13.95 I paid for parts), and a “hazmat” charge of $2. What are these supplies? And if every oil change results in a hazmat charge, why not just add that to the advertised price? I’m tired of surprises.

Mar18

Sketchy Characters

Posted on by
Standard

I’ve needed an oil change for a couple of weeks. While driving around town, I saw a small garage that seemed locally owned with a sign out front that read, Oil Change $17.99. That seemed like a really good price, so I stopped there one afternoon. When I asked for an oil change, the guy at the counter said it would be an hour before they could get to me. I didn’t want to sit there for an hour and there was nothing nearby that I needed or wanted to do, so I left and blew off getting the work done.

One morning a few days later, I called the shop around 8:40 and asked if they could change my oil if I showed up in about half an hour. The guy who answered the phone told me to come in one hour, and he could take care of me.

I arrived a little before the appointed time, and told the guy at the counter that I had called earlier. He told me they could do an oil change in an hour. I thought that was strange since I had something akin to an appointment, but I realize that sometimes it takes longer to make a repair than estimated. I figured it was just taking the mechanic a little longer than he’d thought to finish up what he was doing.

The guy I was talking to ask me if I wanted to leave the van and come back. I don’t know where he thought I was going without my vehicle. There’s not a coffee shop or anything remotely fun on that block. I told him I didn’t have anywhere to go so I’d wait.

I sat in one of the chairs in the grungy waiting room and pulled out my book. I’d been sitting there reading for at least 10 minutes when the guy came back into the waiting area and asked me if I knew it was going to cost $30 to have the oil changed in my van.

I was stunned and told him No, I didn’t know that.

Yeah, he said, it’s $30 for an oil change on a van or a truck.

I usually pay a little more than $30 for an oil change, and I know that’s about what it runs at Wal-mart. I wasn’t opposed to paying $30. However, I thought it was really sketchy that the sign in front said $17.99 for an oil change, not $17.99 and up, not $17.99 (vans and trucks extra). I thought it was sketchy that I’d come in previously and the guy I talked to that day didn’t mention the oil change would cost more because I had a van. I thought it was sketchy that I’d called 45 minutes earlier inquiring about an oil change and had not been told that on some vehicles it would cost more than the advertised price.

I really felt like the guy was trying to get rid of me, so I got up and left. I might end up paying someone $30 for an oil change, but it’s not going to be the folks at that garage.

I was annoyed further when as I was leaving because I saw the same guy I’d been talking to get into a customer’s Denali and drive it into one of the bays. Why was I going to have to wait another 45 minutes, but that guy’s SUV was going right in?

I figured there wasn’t much I could do to fight back, but I knew I could write about my experience and post it on review sites. When I got back to my laptop, I did a search on the garage and found it already had several bad reviews. The workers were accused of lying, saying they’d repaired things that were still broken, as well as breaking things, then saying they hadn’t caused the damage.

Note to self: read reviews before stopping in for an oil change.

Mar1

In Praise of Roadside Assistance

Posted on by
Standard

It had been a good day. There was no line at the post office. I paid for my lunch with a gift card I got for my birthday and used a coupon for a free birthday sundae. Then I locked my keys in the van,

I was at the Goodwill Clearance Center, my favorite place to shop.

I must have been distracted. I took the keys out of the ignition and put them on the dashboard. I got a text message, read it, replied. I put my ring in the glove box so I wouldn’t lose it. Then I jumped out of the van, locked the door, slammed it shut. I took two steps before I realized I wasn’t hearing the rattle of my key chain. Oh no!

I wheeled around, and there they were on the dash. Oh no! What to do?

I walked around the van and tried all the doors. Locked. I tried to push down both front windows. No luck. I checked  the other windows: all locked up.

One of the long, narrow side windows doesn’t have glass. The glass was busted out not long before I bought the van. That window is closed with plastic and cardboard. Could I pop out the plastic and cardboard and climb through the window? No. The last time I locked my keys in the van (in December) I pulled the screen off that window and popped out the plastic and determined there was no way I was going through.

(That time I had left the keys in the back of the van. I was able to reach in through the window and use my umbrella to knock the keys close enough to grab. I didn’t actually have to climb through the window. This time I’d have to go all the way through the window to get the keys from the front of the van. I imagined myself getting stuck trying to pass through that window, my legs dangling outside, stuck like a baby with shoulder dystocia.)

I didn’t have my phone with me. I’d left my phone in the van. I had to find a phone.

Thankfully, I did have my insurance card in my little zippered pouch. On the insurance card is the phone number for roadside assistance. I wasn’t sure if roadside assistance covered rescuing my keys from being locked in my van, but it seemed like my best bet.

I still had to find a phone. I went into the Goodwill Clearance Center. I asked the woman at the first register if I could use the phone, told her I’d locked my keys in my van. She couldn’t let me use the phone without the manager’s approval. Thankfully, the manager approved.

In less than half an hour, Mr. Hernandez had arrived and used his special tool ( a slim jim, I presume) to unlock my door. I grabbed my keys, and I was back to having a good day.

I think I pay $14 a year for roadside assistance. It’s tacked on to the insurance for my van. I use it about once a year, but there’s no limit to how often I can use it. It covers towing, changing flats, jumping dead batteries, and rescuing keys locked in the van. (I’ve used my roadside assistance to deal with all of those problems.) I recommend roadside assistance to everyone, especially van dwellers.

Feb20

Book Review: How to Live in a Car, Van, or RV by Bob Wells

Posted on by
Standard

Yesterday I mentioned reading How to Live In a Car, Van, or RV: And Get Out of Debt, Travel, and Find True Freedom by Bob Wells. Today I am posting a review I wrote of Bob’s book. This review might help you decide if you want to read and/or own the book.

[amazon template=image&asin=1479215899]This book is a quick read. I finished it in a couple of hours. However, just because I’m finished reading it doesn’t mean I’m finished with it. This is a book I’m going to hold on to.

Not only does the author tell the reader the hows of living in a car, van, or RV, he explains the whys too. If you have been considering moving into your car, van, or RV but everyone in your life (from the media to your mom) tells you you’re crazy, read this book!

Once you have decided that mobile living is the life for you (save money! live simply!) Bob Wells will walk you through every step of the process, from deciding what kind of vehicle to purchase (if you have the option of choosing) to getting electricity and keeping your food cold.

This book is for the absolute beginner, but even though I’ve been vandwelling for a while, I learned a thing or too, and the chapter on electricity gave me some food for thought.

I wish I’d had this book when I was starting my vandwelling odyssey.

If you are considering this way of life, get this book and read it cover to cover.

Feb19

The Rubber Tramp Rendezvous: How I Decided to Go

Posted on by
Standard

When I started writing about the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous, I realized the topic is huge. First I thought I’d write one post about the event. Then I decided to write two separate posts, one about each week of the gathering. Then I decided I should write a post about how I decided to attend the event before I actually wrote about the event. So here’s Part 1 of the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous saga.

While spending the winter in Truth or Consequences, NM, I met a traveling artist named Sue. I met Sue because she introduced herself at the coffee shop after seeing me around. Twenty minutes after our initial conversation, we ran into each other at the thrift store. Such is the joy of living in a small town.

While chatting in the thrift store, Sue asked me if I’d ever checked out the Cheap RV Living website. I had not, but I soon took a look at it.

I was very excited to find that the Cheap RV Living website is more about van dwelling than it is about RV living. It’s a website by and for people like me, people who live simply, who live in their vans and travel. I was super excited to explore the website and learn more.

The first thing I learned is that the guy who does the website, Bob Wells, lived in a van for many years. He now lives in a tiny trailer, but he still lives on the road. Bob wrote the book about living in vans. No, I’m not speaking metaphorically. Bob actually wrote a book about living in vehicles. The book is called How to Live In a Car, Van, or RV: And Get Out of Debt, Travel, and Find True Freedom. I ordered it and was quite excited to read it. (Read my review of the book.)

The more I poked around Bob’s website, the more I learned.

The most exciting thing I learned was about being a camp host. I’ve already written about my misconceptions about that job, so you know that Bob’s description of being a camp host really opened my eyes. I began to think that I might want to be a camp host at some point in the future.

I learned that in the past, Bob had organized and hosted gatherings for people who live the van/car/RV dwelling life. He called this the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous.

On day in early December of 2014, I was on the Cheap RV Living website and clicked on the “Gatherings” link. I was surprised to see that the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous was scheduled for January 6-20, 2015 in Quartzsite, AZ. That was in just a few weeks! I already had the rest of my winter, as well as my spring and summer, mapped out. Should I change all my plans?

I immediately wrote an email to my closest friends: “The idea of attending is both terrifying and exhilarating. Terrifying: New People (will anyone like me?  will I like anyone? will I make friends? Social anxiety!) No toilet facilities (Hmmmm, I thought I’d have a whole big list of terrifying, but I guess those are really the only two things I can come up with. But the new people part is HUGE.) Exhilarating: New People (possible new friends under the age of 50, people who are also living in their vans [or at least want to] Lots of New Information (like maybe how to get a job not involving sitting it the scorching sun all day and convincing people that the fruit of my heart and fingers is worthy of their dollars) Seeing Places I’ve Never Seen Before

So should I change all my plans and go to this gathering? Probably yes, right? Do I have anything to lose?”

(The Lady of the House sent me the shortest, sweetest response: “You are very likable!  You would make new friends.”)

So I decided to go. I decided to leave Truth or Consequences a month earlier than planned. I decided to go to Quartzite and meet new people and see things I’d never seen before. I decided to learn more about being a camp host. I decided to let go of my plans and start all over again.

Feb13

Broke Down in Redding, California

Posted on by
Standard

In October of 2012, I was traveling in Northern California with my new friend Mr. Carolina. We’d met in Colorado on Furthur lot. I traveled with him, three (sometimes four) other adults, and two dogs all the way from Red Rocks to Santa Barbara in Old Betsy, my 1994 Chevy G20 van. Two of the adults and their two dogs found a new ride in Santa Barbara, but Mr Carolina and I drove to Los Angeles to deliver L. and R. to the airport so they could catch their flight to Guatamala City.

After our brief stop in LA, Mr. Carolina and I kept heading north, eventually making it all the way to Mt. Shasta, California.

In Laytonville, we met a young French Canadian man and invited him to our cheese party. (By “cheese party,” I mean that Mr. Carolina and I were sitting in the van eating cheese.) The French Canadian man was heading north to Redding to catch a bus and offered to help pay for gas if he rode with us.

My van broke down in Redding, after we dropped the French Canadian guy at the bus station. By “broke down,” I mean we let her run out of gas. It was really my fault. The directions to Wal-Mart I got on my phone were wrong, or I misread them. In any case, we headed off in the wrong direction and ended up on some side street with no gas.

We pushed the van off the road, into the gravel between the road and the fence of the closest house.

We had not money. I flew a sign for a while and collected $24. (Blessings to the kind strangers who handed me a $20 bill.)

My gas can only held one gallon, so we walked to the closest gas station and back twice.We put in the two gallons of gas, and the van still didn’t start. We thought we had fucked up the fuel pump.

At that point, I gave up for the day. I just didn’t have the energy to figure out anything else. We walked back to the Jack in the Box near the gas station to use some of our meager funds to buy dinner. We met a really nice guy named Bernard there. He was in his 50s, maybe his early 60s and had been out to The Hog Farm back in the day and had seen The Grateful Dead a handful of times. We bought him a couple of tacos out of the little money we had gathered up, and we ate together. After dinner, he smoked his roaches with Mr. Carolina. He is one of my very few nice memories of Redding.

After dinner, we went back to the van and  slept right there on the side of the street, me in my bed and Mr. Carolina on the floor.

Here’s a poem I wrote about the first night of the experience:

This Night

We sat in my broke down van
pushed to the gravel
next to a random street
on the West side
of Redding, California
and said good-bye to the sun.

Without my glasses,
distant headlights became
vivid bright snowflakes
with blurred edges.

Raindrops pinged randomly
on our metal roof
while the scent
of nag champa
soothed me.

You smoked fresh Cali weed
in the dark
and a train whistle blew
far away and lonesome—
the exact sound
of this night.

My car insurance covers roadside assistance. I don’t even have to pay up front and get reimbursed, it’s just totally covered, so the next day I had the van towed to a nearby mechanic.  It turned out that once Old Betsy was out of gas, it took seven gallons to get her started again. My sweet friend KJ  called the mechanic shop with his credit card and paid for the gas and the jump start we needed after killing the battery with so many false starts.

By the time the van was running again, it was late in the day. Mr. Carolina and I each had one McDouble for dinner, and we saved the rest of our money to put into the gas tank when we headed toward Mt. Shasta the next day. We ended up spending that night in the parking lot of the Redding Wal-Mart. There was such a weird vibe at that Wal-Mart. People at the entrance were pulling some card trick hustle, and a guy in the parking lot came over and tried to make very fast small talk with us while we were playing cards in the van. (In all the Wal-Mart parking lots I’ve slept in, no one else has ever approached my van and tried to get friendly.)

Redding was my #1 Let’s Get the Fuck Out of Here town. The energy there was very harsh, angry, negative, dark. I said to Mr. Carolina, It’s starting to seem like everyone in this town is on meth. He said to me, That’s because everyone in this town is on meth.