Time flies

So what have we been doing? (asks hardly anyone)

1. Patiently waiting out covid.

2. Staying home A LOT.  (Not really minding it.)

3. Same old, same old.

4. Building our camper van (AKA tiny home on wheels) ..... Yes!

Okay, so, now that we're on the subject ..... 

We picked up our Sprinter van in late October.  It's an empty "cargo" style, with nothing behind the driver and passenger seat.  

And the fun begins.  Sort of.

We began with some of the insulation, then cutting holes in the roof for an air conditioner and a fan, which are installed.

(Note:  When I say "we" ...  just know, it's more likely "he".  I am primarily the gopher.)

To date: 

~The subfloor is down, including insulation below it.

~The heater is installed .... and it works!  This nifty little thing will be fueled by the same diesel that fuels the vehicle.  

~The black tank is in place.  

Not glamorous, but will be highly appreciated in the middle of the night, if you know what I mean.

~The roof is mostly insulated.

~The brackets to hold the solar panels on the roof are made by Brilliant Machinist Husband and waiting to be anodized (colored black for appearance) .... after which the solar panels will move permanently onto the roof.

~The paneling is varnished, ready for the ceiling.  (It's cedar and how pretty is THIS?!)

 ~The skeletal framework of the kitchen cabinet, which will hold our sink, cooktop, drawers, and our closet, is built.  Husband is using something called 80/20, which is like an aluminum erector set.  It will be strong and light weight.  All the cabinets and inner walls in the van will be framed in this.  The fronts and sides will be wood.  (Yet to be installed.)

~Framework for the upper cabinets is done, also yet to be installed.

~Wooden panel upon which the Mother Ship of electrical components will be mounted, is painted and in.

~There's a lovely piece of unfinished butcher block countertop waiting in our garage. (Black Friday sale!)

~Also acquired and waiting for installation -- one toilet, one fresh water tank, one gray water tank.  A dozen other things are sitting in our Amazon cart, and the fridge is (stupid covid) on back order.

Other than that, it's still a largely empty looking van and to my dismay, a long way from when I can start picking out decorative pillows.  

But oh, the planning.  

We have spent hours and hours AND HOURS discussing, brainstorming, figuring out .....  Typical conversation:     

    Me: When can we install the A?  (Meaning anything noticeable, interesting, or pretty)

    Him:  After we install the B.  (Something boring, like a wire or cable)

    But before that, we have to install C and D. (Similarly boring)

    And we can't install D until we install A.

    Me:  <sigh>

There is no manual for this.

Too often we are held up by some part that we then have to order and wait for.  (Amazon is a vital part of this build so please don't talk to me about Jeff Bezos' politics.  I don't want to know.)

Needless to say, it's a slow process.  Thank goodness we are not pioneers in this.  Many have blazed this trail already and have kindly shared their valuable knowledge on YouTube.  (I don't want to hear about YouTube's politics either.  Closing eyes, covering ears, and humming.)  Whoever the first intrepid soul was to built his van into a tiny home, definitely deserves a plaque in some hallowed hall somewhere.  

Making sure his solar panel brackets will fit.  

So there you go.  Unless you're interested in "vanlife" (it's a thing) I probably lost you a few paragraphs ago.  But to us, it's terribly exciting.  We've been planning this for a long time and we're dreaming of the road trips ahead .... Alaska, east coast, back to Utah's canyons .... again ... (the attraction will not die), and much more.  Our daughter calls it the "visiting-the-grandkids-van", which will likely be its main purpose.  

  

  

Winnie the Poop (dedicated to anyone who loves a dog)

I grew up around dachshunds but never owned one.  After we officially entered the "empty nester" stage, my thoughts ventured to a puppy ..... which defies ALL good sense and logic... possibly bordering on insanity.    

I tried "rescuing" a beagle-dachshund mix which, after a few months, didn't work out.  A year later, I tried a chihuahua-dachshund mix (also a rescue) which didn't work out either.  (Seeing a theme here?)  I won't go into the reasons for my failures but they were legit and different with each, and I did my best to find good homes for them.  I then swore off dogs forever.

Several years later and after moving into our current home, in spite of my fear of a third failure, I began to feel it again .....   

This time I wanted an actual full-on dachshund.   (Any dachshund owner who might be reading this, gets it.)  I had tried the rescue route.  I mean, I really tried.  Finding a non-mixed version of this breed at a rescue shelter is very unlikely and with my fence-less yard, I wouldn't qualify anyway.

I eventually found what appeared to be a reputable (and affordable) breeder up near Seattle.  After several email exchanges and waiting till the proper age of eight weeks when it's safe to separate puppy from mother, we drove north to get this ...........  

See??  Prepare to be dragged against your will into dachshund-obsession with me.

Meet Winnie.

She weighed all of four pounds and spent much of the six-hour drive home burrowed between my neck and the headrest.  (Dachshunds are burrowers.  Even now, if you lean forward on the sofa at our house, you will soon find a small dog wedged behind your back.)

Admit it, this is CUTE.

All too aware of my apprehensions, Dear Supportive Husband assured me that Winnie is OUR dog, and that he would help.  And he did.  In fact, today they are BFFs.  HE is the one who wants to bring her along wherever we go.  But as it usually goes, I make sure she's fed, vaccinated, bathed, bedding washed, nails trimmed, walked, and all poop cleaned up.  He plays with her.  Therefore, he's her favorite.  And I'm okay with that.

On the motorcycle.  (Her seat is the backpack, shown below.)

... and on the kayak, in her life jacket with the handy grab handle.  We've never needed it, since she avoids water anyway. 

One evening recently, when Husband was out of town for a few days, Winnie heard a noise outside.  (She ALWAYS thinks she hears noises, which 99.9% of the time, is only me clearing my throat .... or something equally benign.)  Noises send her careening out her doggie-door to confront any intruders.  This time though, she thought it might be HIM and so she went to wait by the door in the laundry room where he always emerges.  That night though, he didn't.

Naturally I texted him this picture.  

Squirrel alert, in the camper.

Nowadays, when we go out in public, she attracts the same baby-talk-goobers that I used to be.  (Still am.)  Winnie adores the attention and would happily go home with any of them and not look back.  She quickly learned that Home Depot employees are potential dog-biscuit-carriers and greets them all with great expectation.  If they don't deliver, she can lay on the guilt like nobody's business.  (See laundry room picture above.)  And you should see her at the Dairy Queen window after experiencing her first "pup cup".  (It's a thing.  I didn't make it up.)  Now she thinks ice cream will magically appear at every drive-through, including banks and toll booths.

I have become one of those people who must resist the urge to foist my pet on others and feel I owe apologies to all those dog owners who had to endure my own goobering over their pet in years past.  All the same, I cannot help but love when people love my dog, and wonder about the heartlessness of those who don't.

Winnie lays claim to any blanket she finds.  She also LOVES wiffle balls, especially the one out of reach under the sofa .... and will whine pathetically till somebody gives in and retrieves it.  (In the video below, the string tied to the ball makes it much easier to get it out from under furniture.)

Dachshunds are smart.  It amazes us how much and how quickly she learns, even unintentionally.  Example: We are in and out of the house all the time, but she KNOWS when we are actually planning to go somewhere when she sees me pick up my purse.  At that point, she hovers and frets so that, if we are THAT heartless to leave her home alone, we WILL feel the guilt.  

(Had to toss this one in.)  Toenail clipping.  She's not a fan.

Her first trip to the beach.  

~~ Warning-- cliches and sappy ending ahead ~~

She's a nuisance (aren't we all sometimes?) and a joy.  In a few weeks, it'll be two years since she burrowed into our hearts.  The third time did indeed prove to be the charm.

Life in the Rural High Desert

Having lived 95% of my total years in western Oregon (I actually did the math), this current 5% has been an adjustment, and I deem it sufficient to speak authoritatively on living in the central portion of this state.  Therefore .....

The Pros:

1. My mountains.  Verse 121 in Psalms, says, 

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help."

In context, this verse appears to have been intended as a question.  But to me, it's a statement.  Hence, the mountains are mine ..... although I'm willing to share.

Broken Top on the left, and the Three Sisters, middle and right

2. Space between us and everyone else.  In fact, we can only see one other house from our house.  

3. My house.  It's not fancy nor large, but it has no stairs, requires only minimal yard work, and it's comfortable.  Plus it looks out on .... see #1 above.

4. The relatively safe political climate where this can sit by our neighbor's road, unmolested.

I'm pretty sure I could even wear a MAGA hat into town if I wanted.  (I don't own one.)  As for the opposing party, I haven't seen any molestation of their signs either.  But I could be wrong.

5.  Less traffic.  Nowadays, when we make one of our frequent trips back to western Oregon, we practically break out in hives as we crawl from one traffic light to the next.  Our Hwy 97, which runs north/south through the center of the state, can sometimes clog up a bit, and too often because of an accident .... which is a topic for another blog post.  Fortunately we have a wonderful thing call back roads, which the general public usually doesn't bother with, where we can zip to town, seldom seeing more than a few cars or even a stop sign.

6. It's dry here.  Often when we go back west, we notice, like never before, the Three Ms: Mud, Moss, and Muck .... the latter being whatever you think fits.

7. There are lakes everywhere.  It necessitates owning some type of boat, which for us, is a kayak.  And camping options?  ..... Again, everywhere.

Pause a moment and soak this in.  (Hosmer Lake) Credit for this photo goes to the Husband.

Camping just last week, and there's our kayak.  (Crane Prairie Reservoir)

8. Deer occasionally wander by my window.  You cannot help but love that.

9. We are surrounded by canyons.  I can literally walk to this spot from my house. (1.5 miles)

Overlooking the Deschutes River.

10.  The people.  There are nice people everywhere.  But here, when out for a walk as I often am, you MUST wave at everyone who drives by .... or at least smile and nod.  Otherwise you feel rude.  It can be bothersome, especially to one who is easily lost in one's thoughts when on foot.  And once, after a deep dump of snow, I was out shoveling a portion of our driveway.  A neighbor whom I've never met, came along on his tractor and, without a word, drove up our driveway and began scooping snow.  And if he hadn't come, our other neighbor would've shown up to do the same.

11. Spectacular sunsets.  Check this out:

The Cons:

1. I am twenty minutes away from shopping, and I'm talking bare minimalist shopping. 

If you want real shopping, you must drive forty minutes or more.  And if you want serious shopping, you must drive three hours to Portland.  (*sigh*)  At least Amazon still knows where to find me.

2. The lack of color.  As you can see in the photos above, there are parts of central Oregon that are stunningly gorgeous.  But where we live .... there are junipers.  Here and there you might find an interesting looking one in a somewhat artful sense, but for the most part, they are probably the ugliest tree ever created.  And unless people plant other varieties of trees on their property, you will find nothing BUT junipers.  NOTHING.  

And the other vegetation, if you can call it that ....(sage brush, tumbleweeds, and cheatgrass that drives burs into your socks) are all the same dreary shade of pale green and brown.  Hence, when we drive west, I am almost overcome by the abundant color over there. 

3.  Those deer.  They must be barricaded by tall fences or they will eat everything you plant.  And if they don't want it, rabbits probably will.  

4.  Weird weather.  We don't get snow too often.  But sometimes when it snows, it dumps.  We've seen at least three feet a couple of times.  

 

And once in a while the wind, on a previously windless day, suddenly kicks up and threatens to overturn cars, then brings in a Biblical deluge of hail and rain and for about 30 minutes, tries heartily to wash us all into one of the nearby canyons, before returning to that innocent blue-sky calmness, as if to say, "Storm?  What storm?" 

  

And all lightening storms must accompany the necessary concern of wild fires, because .....

5.  ... it's so dry.  People are quite intense about fire danger here.  We have to trim up our trees and attempt to keep potential fuel cleaned up off the ground.  I never heard of creating a "safety perimeter" around my house in western Oregon.  And we've had days at a time, typically in August, when the mountains hide in the smokey haze.  

6. I don't trust other drivers here.  Hwy 97 (mentioned above) is, in my opinion, an antiquated death trap.   It has too many small roads and driveways accessing it with a scary lack of turning lanes or medians needed to keep cars and trucks separated as they speed past each other on only two lanes.  A LOT of accidents happen on sections I am frequently on and many are fatal.  But not all are due to the road.  Sometimes the unexplainable happens and someone pulls out in front of a semi-truck in broad daylight.  


As you can see, at this point, the Pros outnumber the Cons.  So until that changes, we will stay put.  Besides that, the Husband LOVES his fishing and golfing which are readily available a few minutes away.  I was told once, by a local, that people move out here when they retire in their 60s (hello, us!) and move back when they need more help in their 80s.  So we have a few years to go .....

Updates and admitting that we are hard-core RV-ers.

Whenever I read over some of my old posts, I berate myself for neglecting The Blog.  Even if nobody else ever reads it, it's a priceless record to us.  And so I am pulling it out of the attic, dusting it off, and will (hopefully!) get back in the groove.  Because we're not dead yet.  

Update:

My last post (of over a 1.5 years ago) started off with us selling our 40 foot ("Beast") motorhome, which I was very ready to see go.  I SAID we were going back to good old-fashioned tent camping.  Or so we thought.

That lasted until the following spring ..... when we hatched the *brilliant* plan of rejoining our motorcycling and camping lifestyles, with a toy-hauler.  (This is an RV wherein the rear wall opens and lays down as a ramp.  Toy-haulers can carry all types of man-sized "toys" on wheels.)  As you may recall, our motorhome carried our motorcycle on the back.  THIS would carry it inside.  Brilliance.  Or so we thought.

Fondly remembering the assets of our first little all-aluminum trailer, we searched for one from the same company, which Husband located in San Diego.  (At least it wasn't Arkansas this time.)  So off we went in our Jeep, towing our motorcycle in a U-Haul trailer.

There we loaded the motorcycle into our *new* (four years old) rig, hitched it to the Jeep and headed back north.  It was during that trip we decided the Jeep just didn't have the oomph to do the job, since this trailer was wider than our original trailer.  So after we returned home, our beloved Jeep was sold and replaced with a lovely red F150 pickup, which squarely entrenched us as true Central Oregonians.  (Eeeeeverybody drives a pickup here.)

It was very spartan inside, with hideous "Polaris" decor, and the exterior had been thoroughly faded by the southern Cali sun.

This is as it looked on our way home.  The furniture was folded up against the walls.  The bed raises and lowers to allow the bike to come and go.

Then followed about six weeks of pure fun (memory always erases the not-fun parts) as we fixed it up.  The exterior got new paint and decals.

The interior went from this:

to this:

We loved it ......

                or so we thought.

Last fall we headed for New Mexico, since that was our last unexplored western state.  We stopped briefly to see our delightful Utah family and then did our annual obligatory visit to Moab.

OH!  I forgot!  We bought a kayak!  (How COOL are we?!)  It's inflatable and holds both of us, plus the dog, and we love it!  So we brought it along on this trip and did about 8 miles on the scenic (brown) Colorado river just outside of Moab.
Note: for those of you who have never launched any type of small non-powered boat on a river, it involves a lot of ferrying of vehicles from the put-in point to the take-out point, which we were able to do with me and dog in the truck, and Husband on the motorcycle.  This is to avoid having to hitchhike a ride back up-river to the truck.

Then we spent two nights at the Great Sand Dune National Park in southern Colorado.  (Sllliiiightly overrated.  Definitely a do-only-once destination, although the pic below is gorgeous.)   I had to laugh at all the people we saw heading out to climb the dunes in hiking boots.  Obviously they were sand novices and strangers to the Oregon coast where we all know to go barefoot.

(Took this off the internet.) 

https://www.colorado.com/articles/national-park-profile-great-sand-dunes-national-park-preserve

It was here when the benefits of carrying one's motorcycle inside one's RV began to fade.  If one is relegated to the only available spot in the park and is backed up into that tiny campsite where one cannot lower the ramp to disembark said motorcycle, then one must sleep with a large vehicle situated between one's bed and one's bathroom.  Why didn't we unload the bike before parking the trailer?  Frankly, I don't remember.

Then we headed into the artsy, touristy town of Taos, New Mexico, and some much anticipated internet.  (I'd been dealing with a few withdrawal symptoms after being off-grid for several days.)  About an hour after we arrived there, somehow-somewhere a very important cable was accidentally severed, plunging the entire area into an internet-less abyss that lasted for the next 12-13 hours.  In fact even the land-line phones were all down.  I was aghast .... what if there was an emergency??  But the locals just seemed to shrug it off.

Taos is entertaining for about 2.5 hours, after which those of us with short attention spans become bored.  I have learned in my RV-ing experience that making reservations and finding places to camp are fairly easy Monday - Thursday.  But by Friday, you'd better be hunkered down for the weekend.  So we endured Taos till Monday.  The friendly folks with whom we attended church in their very small congregation, ALL encouraged us to move there full-time (so as to permanently teach a Sunday class or something).  It was that weekend we discovered the ramp of our trailer, upon which the motorcycle enters and exists, was becoming spongy.  It was rated to hold much heavier vehicles than we subjected it do .... AND did I mention it was only four years old??

So we called the local church leader, who kindly offered to let us use a few of his power tools and Husband fashioned a plank to lay over the ramp, so as to continue being able to load and unload the bike.  (Needless to say, our opinion of the manufacturer of our trailer (and the ramp) dropped significantly.)

Skipping ahead, since this is getting long-winded .... we visited San Juan (lovely!) ... (oops!, I meant Santa Fe),  Los Alamos where the atomic bomb was built, and saw more ancient ruins in Chaco Canyon which IS the Mother-of-the-Middle-of-Nowhere where visitors must suffer miles of very rough road for which, in my opinion, there is no excuse.  (Kinda done with ruins after that.)

The best of that trip was Lake Powell in our kayak.  A few pics:  (Antelope Canyon)

It gradually narrows down to a channel barely wide enough to U-turn the kayak, where you hit land and can hike further into the slot canyon on foot.  Husband is clamoring to return .... or perhaps move there (insert eye-roll emoji here).

Alas, however, it was not our favorite trip, and added to some necessary cold winter usage, I'm afraid our current trailer has fallen out of favor.

HENCE, onto Plan ... um ... a, b, c .... D!

We are getting a Sprinter van!  More on that coming up ..... because I WILL return.