Mná Wičoni - Water is Life

The outlet at Mittry Lake.

We are currently camped beside the outlet of Mittry Lake about twenty miles out into the desert north of Yuma, Arizona.  The outlet is a short channel, not a great deal narrower than much of the lake, that is lined with rushes and a few palm trees.  Just a few yards from our location is a flood control gate.  The water is high enough that it is pouring over the small retaining wall and dropping three or four feet into the pool below.  Next to the sound of the coots and the coyotes in the distance in the evening, the sound of water is the most dominant sound.  

We love the desert and spend a lot of our time in the Sonoran Desert. The Sonoran covers a large part of southwestern US, along with Sonora, Baja California and Baja California Sur in Mexico. It is the hottest desert in Mexico. When you have learned firsthand that water is the most precious substance on the planet -  Mná Wičoni – the sound of water is the most beautiful sound in the world. 

A little over a week ago we went to town to fill our two six-gallon drinking water containers.  We had around thirty gallons of fresh (potable) water in our trailer’s fresh-water tank, but we like to have the six-gallon containers strictly for drinking and cooking.  We gladly paid twenty-five cents a gallon for our water because we are in the desert and the only source of water is very deep wells.  When we got home we had around 42 gallons of the precious commodity.  The next day there was serious concern among campers and locals. The wells had gone dry.  There was no water to be had for almost ninety miles.  By this time the town, a popular winter destination, had over a half million or more people living in the town and camped in the desert surrounding it.

A success story. A dam, which was destroy a type of
salmon as well as the local environment and economy
was removed and the fish are now able to spawn again.

Have you ever been anyplace where the nearest water was almost ninety miles away? Have you ever been in a position where, if you don’t have your own water, you’re out of luck?!  The wells recovered, but they have gone dry at least two or three times since that day.  Will there be the day when they don’t recover?

It is amazing how far you can stretch 52 gallons of water – the maximum amount of water we carry. We do dishes with less than a half-gallon of water. Even then we pour the dish water into a jug which is kept in the bathroom for flushing the toilet. When we wash our hands in the bathroom sink, the grey water is collected and used for flushing.  In short, most water, unless consumed, is used twice. 

We had a short rain storm not long ago.  One man we know was so excited that he went out in the rain in his underwear and bathed.   I was sitting in Nitsitapiisinni when it started. We were well out into the Sonoran desert.  I went out to put folding chairs away and watched the dust fly as the water hit the ground.  I stood in the rain looking at the cacti and creosote trees around us.  They wait patiently for many weeks for a drink of water like this.  Mná Wičoni.  Within an hour after the rain ended you could not tell, just to look, that it had ever rained.  I want so much to give water to the plants, but I know that it is like feeding wild animals. To do so would do more harm than good. Plants in the desert have adapted and my interference would disrupt their natural water gathering ability.  Then again, humans shouldn’t be doing things that destroy their sources of water.

Lahontan Lake in Nevada. Much of the water in
Nevada is like this lake - polluted by mining
and dangerous.

Near the town of Silver Springs, Nevada, about a hundred miles into the desert, there is a lovely little reservoir named Lahontan. To look at this pretty lake you would never know that it is so polluted that you can not eat any fish you catch.  The same is true of Squaw Lake, which adjoins the Colorado River just upstream from the Imperial Dam, north of Yuma, Arizona and the Salten Sea, in southern California, is totally dead as a result of agricultural chemical run-off. A friend driving past this large lake commented on the strange sand. It turned out to be fish bones.

Aerial photo of the Imperial Dam north of Yuma. The
tiny dark line is what is left of the Colorado River

The owner of the dental office we go to in Algodones, Mexico has lived there his entire life. His family has lived in Algodones since the 1860s and his Grandmother would tell him about mighty Colorado River. That ceased after Hoover Dam.  Now, the river that once was the wildest, most powerful river in North America is little more than a ditch by the time it gets to Mexico.  After Hoover other dams were built. There are two, practically within sight of each other, just north of Yuma.  They lead water into irrigation canals.  When you pass just south of the Imperial Dam, the ditch with very little water is what’s left of the Colorado River. 

This man is standing at the end of the Colorado River
where it enters the Gulf of California. Sad!!

Time and again throughout history it has been proven to us that we can not do better than nature. Time and again we have suffered the consequences of messing around with nature, trying to “improve”, and trying to selfishly make things better just for us.  Example. The Mississippi River continues to break through the puny barriers we erect in an effort to control its flow and steal its flood plains for farming.  I drove across Illinois and Missouri just after the last big flood where levee after levee broke under the force of the mighty river and thousands of lives were unnecessarily sacrificed to our greed. It was like driving over the longest causeway in the world with water almost as far as you could see.

We don’t even want to get started on air and water pollution or our undeniable contribution to climate change. 

We seem to have no concept that we are not the most important creature on earth.  We are one of the only creatures on earth that could totally disappear and not make a difference. In fact, earth would begin to heal without us.  But the earth cannot survive without water.  We do not have to be the worst invasive species on the planet. We can live in harmony with the world around us as we once did. If we want to survive as a species, we must reclaim many of the attitudes and skills we had as hunter-gatherers and stop destroying mother earth.  We must stop polluting and wasting the most precious, life-giving substance on earth … water.  Mná Wičoni!  We must stop dumping our sewage into water.  We must stop pumping water into the earth to extract oil.  We must stop putting leaky oil pipes over, under and around our precious water.  We must stop using it to sprinkle our lawns.

The Saltan Sea is totally dead thanks to run off of
agricultural chemicals. The white "sand" is
actually fish bones. 

I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard visitors to the national parks say “I can’t wait to get home and have a long, hot shower.”  Hopefully they don’t see me grimace.  I think of the gallons and gallons of precious water they allow to run over their bodies for the sole purpose of experiencing a brief pleasant sensation.  A disturbingly high percentage of us in the continental US and much of Canada have little or no idea of how precious water really is.   Mná Wičoni – water is life.

As I sit here writing I hear the soft, melodious sound of the water.  I’m right next to the source of my existence.  Here in the middle of the desert is the true elixir of life.  Without it I would die.  Without it you would die.  Without it the world will die.  Mná Wičoni – water is life.

Lake Meade behind Hoover Dam. The water used
to come up to this road. 

The white is where the water used to be behind Hoover
Dam.  

The beginning of the death of the Colorado River.
Hoover Dam.

A Moonlit Night in the Desert

The moon was well up as the sun sank below the mountains southwest of us.   Night descends quickly, yet gently, upon Nitsitapiisinni, our trailer home.  Our world goes from a massive open sky, which seem to go on forever and be supported by the rugged volcanic mountains around us, to a stillness permeated by light and shadow, filled with sounds that lead one into that wonderful dream-state the precedes a blissful sleep.

Many, if not most, people think that the desert is a lifeless, ugly place. Nothing could be farther from the truth.  Daytime in the desert is broad, expansive, beautiful and full of life.  Nighttime in the desert is a wonderland of sounds and shadows.  As the last rays of the sun create a beautiful tapestry of orange, pink and vibrant blue, the shadows gently cover the land. Like pulling a warm blanket up around your neck as you drift off to sleep.  Silence, only broken by the soulful singing of the coyote, envelopes us.  There is nothing that says you must be quiet.  You are quiet because the earth is quiet. Calm. Peace. Rest.

Nitsitapiisinni sits within a few yards of a spillway where the water from Mittry Lake passes over a small flood control dam on its way south.  The presence of water in the middle of an enormous desert is exciting and almost mind boggling during the day. At night it is a reassuring lullaby. The sound is refreshing to the soul.

It gets cold in the desert at night, but Pamela leaves the door open as long as possible to revel in the nighttime sounds.  Its 2100 (9pm) and we’re still at 51 degrees outside, so the door is still open. This verges upon rare in the desert because the nighttime temperatures can drop quite low.  We can hear the lullaby of the water.  It is as though it is singing to us. We know it is our life and our hearts bow in respect and love.

The palm tree across the narrow channel is an iconic shadow.  Near it is the small yellow light emitting from a neighbor’s trailer window. We have three neighbors. The only sign of their presence is the small spots of light.  The channel is calm and peaceful. The coots, egrets and loons have gone to roost.   

There is almost a full moon.  The proper term is Waxing Gibbous.  Even with the bright moon light we can see a vast array of stars. Everything around us appears like a grey-scale picture. There is a surreal quality.

Inside Nitsitapiisinnni the candle holder I converted into a 12 volt lamp casts a warm glow.  We are comfortable and secure. The Blue Sky solar control panel above the fridge confidently tells us that our batteries are at 12.8 volts. Lots of power to get us through the night, thanks to a generous sun.

Suddenly the furnace comes on.  I look. The inside temperature is sixty-four degrees. It is time to close the windows and the door. It is time to go to bed, to rest in preparation for another magnificent desert day.  I walk quietly to the door. There is such a sense of peace and tranquility, I must walk softly.  There is no other way.  Standing at the door I look one more time at the dreamlike world around me.  I don’t want to close the door. I want to embrace the peace and the tranquility.  I don’t want to give it up, but I must go and rest. 

Goodnight, moon, that illuminates the world in such a beautiful and unique way.  Good night, water, that sings its lullaby.  Good night, desert, that despite your apparent harshness offers us solace, comfort and respite.  Good night, Unci Maka (grandmother earth).  May all your children bless you and live in your warm embrace. Good night, dear friends. May you know the peace that only oneness with the world around you can bring. 

An incurable case of wanderlust

Angel Valley Rd. near Cottonwood, AZ

Wanderlust is defined as “a strong desire to travel,”  but it is really so much more.  It is a drive to fill or renew the senses with those experiences, sights, sounds and feelings that seem to be forever lost in modern western culture and society.  Now everything seems to revolve around giant plasma televisions, computers that talk back and phones that manage your life. 

To those of us who call ourselves nomads or wanderers, this is not living.  It is being controlled or fit into a ready-made, societal determined, and often gender based niche which really doesn’t fit.  Like other people, nomads come in every shape and size, with personalities and desires as diverse and numerous as any other group.  A high percentage of us are conservationists and environmentalists. A high percentage are spiritual, leaning toward Buddhism.  Many prefer and look for natural or what is sometimes called alternative medicine (preventative instead of reactive, natural or herbal instead of chemical), and believe that our life-style itself is preventative medicine, if not the cure. 

Some of us are searching.  There are those who are trying to find themselves or Shangri-La.  Probably a majority of us have no idea where we’re going and love it that way.  If you have no idea where you’re going or where you’ll end up, every day is an adventure. That, in itself, is invigorating and healthy. Researchers learned long ago that activity goes a long way in helping you stay young.

Canyonland Nat'l Park

Pamela and I love wilderness of any type.  Our favorites seem to be the extremes – the rain forest Cedar and Hemlock mountains of northwestern Montana and the desert.   We can handle large towns or groups for a relatively short time and then we have to find a spot like where we are now.   We’re at the south end of Mittry Lake, just north of Yuma, Arizona.  We are about twenty miles into the desert near the Colorado River. The last 5-6 miles was down a dusty, bumpy dirt road.  I can look out the window next to me at a channel where Egrets, Coots and Loons (or maybe a Grebe)  fish not ten yards from our twenty foot camper-trailer home.  Coyotes can be heard howling in the early evening and the sound of water passing over a small spillway lulls us to sleep at night.  The date palm near us isn’t indigenous but we enjoy it. Most of the indigenous plants are reeds and other water plants surrounded by low barren, volcanic mountains. 

The mountain stream near our place at Glacier

The other day Pamela excitedly showed me our calendar. Yes, we do have one even though we often have no idea of the time, day or date. January was dotted with notes like see so-and-so, go to dentist, etc.  The date was highlighted and there was nothing showing after that.  That was what was exciting her.

Don’t get me wrong. We love our family and friends very much and really enjoy being with them, but we also love the solitude of being totally off the grid where it takes GPS to find us and the only thing which makes us go to town is running out of water.  You’re always welcome to join us.

Our home is always with us, the length of our big Dodge Ram 1500 half-ton heavy,  as we drive down the road. Many of us travel short distances at a time yet our RV s may cover 15,000 miles a year or more. Many of the Bureau of Land Management and other free camping areas have a 14 day stay limit. Our water and holding tanks allow us to stay in the wilderness for twelve to fourteen days. Besides, Pamela and I are fine with the limit since we’re usually ready to move on by then. 

Mt Canon which greets us every morning at Glacier NP.

Over our time on the road we log 12-15,000 miles a year and have gone from central Florida to northwestern Montana twice.  Our only extended stay is when we’re volunteering as campground hosts in Glacier National Park, northwestern Montana, from the first of May to the end of September. There we’re 16 miles out into the park.  Sixteen miles to a phone signal and 40 miles to get internet.  From there we wander eastward to the Midwest and South to see our children and some old friends, returning to our beloved desert by New Year. We stay in the desert until the heat drives us northward and we start the cycle again.  In seven months of 2017, we stayed in sixty-five different places in sixteen different states.

Wildlife, trees, plants and rocks are our thing.  Wildlife management – a euphemism for keeping dumb people away from the animals – became my avocation after retirement, while Pamela, a retired biology professor, has taken up geology.  This drives our movement and triggers our urge to move on.  There is so much to see. So many places to stop and appreciate before our ravenous society destroys and devours them.

Mittry Lake, north of Yuma, AZ

One of the things which prompted me to write this blog was sitting here enjoying our surroundings and watching our neighbor fishing in the quiet waters of the channel. It made me think of an old scout camp song entitled “Happy Wanderer”.  

I love to go a-wandering,
Along the mountain track,
And as I go, I love to sing,
My knapsack on my back.

Chorus:
Val-deri,Val-dera,
Val-deri,
Val-dera-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
Val-deri,Val-dera.
My knapsack on my back.

I love to wander by the stream
That dances in the sun,
So joyously it calls to me,
"Come! Join my happy song!"
Chorus:

I wave my hat to all I meet,
And they wave back to me,
And blackbirds call so loud and sweet
From ev'ry green wood tree.
Chorus:

High overhead, the skylarks wing,
They never rest at home
But just like me, they love to sing,
As o'er the world we roam.
Chorus:

Oh, may I go a-wandering
Until the day I die!
Oh, may I always laugh and sing,
Beneath <the> clear blue sky!
Chorus:


P.S.  Here's a YouTube link so you can sing along.  https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5GgJHe0bC34

Walking mindfully in the desert

Meditation circle in the setting desert sun.

Walking mindfully in the desert, I am maintaining my focus on the present by concentrating on the sensation of the rocks upon which I step as I walk.  It is a form of meditation and the purpose of this walking meditation is to practice keeping my mind focused on the present and to be more aware of my surroundings.  The desert floor is predominantly covered with a very dark color volcanic rock, I believe it might be rhyolite, sprinkled with the bright white of quartzite.  I would also guess that it is volcanic debris that fell like rain rather than part of a lava flow because the pieces are generally small and rather sharp against the bottom of my feet.  I can easily feel the individual stones through the soles of my moccasins. The quartzite is beautiful against the dark volcanic ash. There are the

occasional large pieces, but it is mostly in patches of small pieces that tend to distract me as I walk. When I catch myself admiring a piece of quartzite on the ground ahead of me I remind myself that my mind is wandering and return to concentrating on the sensation of the rocks under my feet. 

It is easy to be distracted. It is very human to be distracted.  We have such a strong propensity to spend so much of our time in the past or future, which in reality do not exist – the past is gone and the future is not yet. If our minds are not engaged in a current activity, they are reliving the past or thinking about the future. We get so involved in thinking about what we could have done differently in a past situation or worrying about, dreaming of, or planning for the future that we totally miss the present. Some Buddhist schools call this “monkey brains” because our brains are jumping around and racing from one place or idea to another with such agitation that we’re like a cage full of monkeys jumping frantically around trying to get out.

The meditation circle that I fashioned near our desert campsite isn’t all that big, so it only takes about forty minutes, but it is a good meditation.  I’m aware of the coolness of the air even though there is a warm southwestern Arizona sun in the totally cloudless sky.  I am aware of someone walking by. They pause.  Most of our neighbors in this part of the RTR (Rubber Tramp Rendezvous) do some form of meditation, but there are always those passing by who wonder about me walking around a spiral pathway seemingly out of touch with the world around me. When I realize that I’m thinking about explaining to them that I’m actually more in touch with the world around me,  I call myself back to my feet.  Sounds around me can be distracting and I want to check them out, but I stop myself.  That’s okay. That’s why we call it ‘practice’. 

At the end of the walk I stand a moment and finish singing “om mani padme hum”, which, as far as I know, has no actual translation but is a spiritual “sound”.  Then I look up.   Ahead of me is our twenty-foot camper trailer home, Nitsitapiisinni, which means “our way of life” in the Blackfeet language.    Beyond are campers, vans, car, cargo vans, cargo trailers, vintage trailers and RV of all shapes and sizes. Beyond our village of nomads are magnificent mountains like a giant mural on a wall of the clearest, richest blue. They are beginning to take on some pink and orange highlights.  Sunset is close and the mountains which I’m facing are to our east.  I turn around.  More mountains. These mountains, to our west, are only a silhouette because the sun appears to be sitting on top of them just before it drops out of sight.

“This is my little piece of paradise,” I think to myself.  I smile. I think that a lot. Probably because it is true.  

As the light begins to fade and the sun puts on its final magnificent show of the day, I walk slowly toward Nitsitapiisinni.  I notice that I am still aware of the rocks under my feet.  I am aware of Pamela and a friend, who very well might be joining us for dinner, talking and laughing.  I am aware of people moving around, building campfires, cooking meals outside, gathering together for fellowship.  I am not reliving the past – good or bad.  I am not thinking about the future, which seems only to be filled with fear.  I am enjoying my little piece of paradise - life here and now – without distraction or baggage.  I am totally in the present and it is good. 

Your full-time RV living unit.

Our trailer, 'Nitsitapiisinni', and truck, 'Mighty Moe'
at Eagle Lake, Susanville, CA

We get lots of questions about being full-timers, but the most common is about our trailer.  Other than the question about whether or not one can afford to live on the road full-time, which I tried to address in my blog  "Can we afford to be full-timers", this is probably the most important issue.  In what are you going to live?   I would never consider a blog telling you what to buy. I’m not you, and I’m sure you’re grateful for that.

My daughter is a financial planner/advisor. On a wall in her company’s offices are pictures of clients who have retired.  Pamela and my picture is on that wall and a lot of people ask her about our experiences and how we full-time.  I started putting this information together so she could share it with them and then decided that it might be interesting to others.

The first thing that anyone must remember is that the living unit you select is your decision. It can not be anyone else’s decision.  No matter how much I love having a trailer and your Uncle Bob loves his Class-A, you must look at all options and try to figure out what fits your wants, need, and budget. You might roll out in a Class-B+ or C.  If you don’t get yourself into overwhelming debt, you can always change. Just remember. Like a car, a new RV is only worth about 50% what you paid the minute you drive it off the lot.

We strongly suggest that you spend the months before going full-time studying units, listening to people like us who have experience, going to show rooms (don’t buy! Just look!), and talking about where you want to be able to go with your unit, how much space you think you need, how much space you actually need (usually a whole lot less than the former), and other similar important issues.

This is 'Willy', a 16 foot 35 year old Fleetwood
Wilderness. We loved this trailer and totally rebuilt it.
This is where we started 

Here is our experience and what we selected.   We started out as not-quite full-timers and spent most of our first three plus years living in a 35 year old 16 foot camper trailer that we rebuilt. We called it Willie, and we loved that trailer. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Pamela had to have both of her knees replaced and one didn’t go well, we’d probably still be living in Willie. But we felt that we needed a trailer (1) that was as short as possible so we can go almost anywhere, (2) had a walk around bed, (3) had a full bath (Pamela needs the tub for her knees), (4) had a nice kitchen (that was for me), and (5) had a double axle.  Here’s what we have today.

1. Our trailer is a 20 foot 2017 Keystone Springdale which we purchased in July 2016. We do not have slides. We don't want slides for three reasons: (i) they frequently need repair; (ii) they leak air and often water; and (iii) when they are in they take up a lot of room, often making the unit unusable. We have a full bath (tube, shower, etc), and queen-size walk around bed. I love to cook, so we have a nice gas stove with oven, medium size fridge and double sink. We replaced the square table with a round pedestal. Our sitting/dining area is at the rear end and has a giant window. After living in 112 square feet, living in 160 square feet with higher ceiling is palatial.               

Nitsitapiisinni in the desert southeast of Quartzsite, AZ
at the 2018 RTR (Rubber Tramp Rendezvous)

 2. Our stove, fridge, hot water and furnace run on propane. On the rare occasion that we have ‘pole-power’ (exterior AC electricity into which we plug the trailer), the fridge and hot water will also run on electricity. We paid $413 for propane for the entire 2017 and we don’t skimp. This is our home. We want to be comfortable. Our furnace is forced hot air with floor vents. Since we have a four season package (partially covered underbelly) the floor vents help keep pipes, etc., under the floor, from freezing. It also does a great job keeping the unit comfortable.  Floor heat is phenomenal. A lot of our friends who do not have floor heat are spending money on supplemental heating units. Many people use inverters to turn the 12 volt power from their battery(ies) into 110 AC, like house current. We don't do that. We live off-the-grid (totally self-contained) over 80% of the time. We just use 12 volt. Why invert if it isn’t necessary?  It takes some of your power to run an inverter. We have some small inverters (150,300) for things which need 110, like or computer chargers, the television and DVD player. Otherwise we don't have anything requiring 110. (fn-1)  It is much easier just to go all 12 volt. We use all LED lights. I even converted some lamps so that they have LED bulbs and 12 volt. LED not only saves a lot of money but are cool in the summer. (fn-2)   
   

3. As I said, we are totally self-contained. The only thing that drives us back into ‘civilization’ is to dump our holding tanks and take on fresh water.  If you think you want to do a lot of boondocking (dry camping off the grid) be mindful of the capacity of the three tanks on the unit - grey (sink water),  black (toilet sewage), and fresh water (potable drinking water). Once you get started bookdocking, there will be lots of us around to help you with ideas about conserving water. 

Nitsitapiisinni in the desert on Palm Canyon Road, KOFA north
of Yuma, AZ. (2017)  When this pic was taken we were
successfully powered by two 80 watt portable solar panels. We
 now have 320 watts on the roof and the portable if we
want/need more.

4. Our electricity comes from photovoltic panels. This is the new solar technology. It is unbelievable! We have two 160 watt panels on our roof, which are more than sufficient for our need, and one 80 watt portables. We had two portables first and keep one in case we want more power for some reason.  The remaining portable has a 50 foot cord so we have great flexibility where we put it and have used it when the roof-top panels are totally or partially in shade. The great thing about the new technology is that it doesn't require direct sunlight to work. It works best with direct sun, but we have actually seen panels produce electricity in moonlight.  Of course, it wasn't enough to run an LED bulb but it was pretty neat to see and confirmed the efficacy of the technology. Our roof-top panels are mounted flat on the roof - no need to prop them up - and on a sunny day our batteries are fully charged well before noon. We have a Blue Sky “Sun Charger 30” which is a top-of-the-line 30 amp 3 stage control panel. Our photovoltic panels go directly to our batteries. We were told by experts, that running your solar through your unit’s system loses power. We have 2- Full River 6 volt AGM 224 amp hour batteries. We can run the furnace all night (fans tend to pull a lot of power) and still awakened with 12.1-12.3 volts. You need to find an expert. Most are in the southwest. Carefully check out the person from whom you buy. Our two panels, control panel and installation cost us around $1,800 in 2017.

Nitsitapiisinni at Annie Creek, free dispersed camping just
outside the southern entrance to Crater Lake Nat'l Park.

5. One last word on your primary living unit.  If you are leaning toward a trailer, I would never full-time in a single-axle trailer. Double-axle units are easier to maneuver and backup, and they are safer in the event of a blow-out.  You also need a good hitch system. We have a heavy-duty Blue Ox. 

      

You can't talk about trailers or fifth-wheels without talking, at least briefly, about the tow vehicle. That's really one of the most important ingredients, and often more expensive than your living unit.  Again, I'm not going to tell you what to buy.  But I am going to make a few suggestions and tell you about what we have. 

       

      As with your living unit, you must take the time to think about what appeals most to you and what is in your budget.  You need to do a lot of research and ask a lot of questions. Don't just buy what the salesperson at the dealership suggests. There is a fairly good chance that they have no idea about towing. Sadly, there is also a good chance that their recommendation will bring them the most commissions.  You need to talk to full-timers like us who actually tow 15,000 or more miles a year. Our 2013 Dodge Ram has about 108,000 miles and the majority of those miles it had a trailer attached. Some people say that for lighter units the Dodge 1500 is the best, but the Ford F250 is superior to the Dodge 2500 for heavier units. Listen to these arguments and use them to guide your decision.  Again, be careful of the budget. 

Mighty Moe - 2013 Ram 1500 half-ton heavy with
tow package,  beefed up rear suspension, 6'6" bed with cap.
We keep our bikes, scuba gear, tool box, camping
supplies and other items in here.

      Here's what we have, and we're extremely happy.  We have a 2013 Dodge Ram 1500 4x4 half-ton heavy with a 5.7L Hemi gasoline engine and 8 ply all-terrain tires.  4x4 is obvious. Our truck has four-wheel drive which helps us in a number of different scenario.  It is most important if you plan to boondock; i.e. go off the grid into the desert and such places. We also have high clearance.  'Half-ton heavy' means that the truck has been modified to make it heftier. We have the tow package plus we have beefed up the back-end suspension.  Our modifications actually raised the truck a good 12 or more inches. It doesn't change the tow rating but it makes it easier for you and the truck. You don't have to go out and buy a one-ton truck with dualies (four wheels on a single axle) on the back if you're pulling a trailer that weighs <5,000 pounds. Mighty Moe, our truck, can easily stop Nitsitapiisinni  without trailer brakes, and I could easily forget that it is attached as we travel.  We don't need more than a half-ton heavy.  My own belief is that you should match your tow vehicle by the low to middle side of towing capacity.  In our case, our truck is rated to tow up to 11,500 pounds with an average of 5,700 pounds.  Nitsitapiisinni weighs in at just over 4,800 pounds with a full tank of fresh water, both the holding tanks empty, and filled with our belongings. Truck and trailer weight just under 10,000 pounds together.  If you're going to be pulling a trailer that is pushing 10,000 pounds you probably want to think of a bigger truck.  

      No matter what you're pulling behind you, or what you're driving, it first of all must fulfill your needs. Is it going to be comfortable?  Can you afford it?   If you buy a quarter-million dollar Class-A on two Social Security checks a month, you're probably not going to be able to make the payments never-the-less go anywhere.  If you have plenty of money and select a small unit like ours when you feel like you need to travel with about half the contents of your 4,000 sq ft house, you're not going to be happy.  Remember this . . . . if you buy well within your budget, and you realize that you made a poor choice or just change your mind, you will be able to trade.  If you over-spend, you're stuck. 

     
      If you have other questions about the cost of full-timing or picking your unit, or just questions about full-timing, don't hesitate to contact me at revance@gmail.com.  

It

FOOTNOTES

      (1) We got the television to watch DVDs. We don't use it much any more since they came out with some neat, small, 12V players. We only use the TV when we want "big screen".  There are 12V televisions.  Buying a small pure sine wave inverter to power ours was easier and less expensive. 

       (2) If you buy an older trailer that has standard 12V bulbs, it is well worth the money to replace all of them with LED.  We have seen the old standard bulbs literally melt a plastic globe.  LED use less energy, therefore cost less to run and take less out of your battery(ies), and reduce heat in the summer. 

Chlorpyrifos fact check

I was going through my file of screen clips that I take of articles I feel are important but I haven't had (or taken) the time to fact check.  I ran across this post.  It's really scary, IF its true. So, I decided to do some fact-checking. 

My findings are that the claim is basically absolutely true!  Scary!   The EPA had been forced by the courts to make a final decision on Chlorpyrifos before Trump took office. It decided to ban the chemical. Chlorpyrifos is an organophosphate. Tabun and Sarin gases are two of the world's most notorious military nerve gases and both are organophosphates.

Yes, Scott Pruitt – known for being anti-EPA and then made the EPA director by Trump - reversed the EPA decision to ban the chemical. It was banned in Europe in 2008 Singapore in 2009, and South Africa in 2010.

 The CEO of Dow Chemical, Andrew Liveris, was appointed by Trump to a White House manufacturing working group, and his company did donated $1 million to Donald Trump’s inauguration fund. Liveris also was scrutinized over reports that he met with Pruitt prior to his announcement reversing the ban. I can't find this either denied or confirmed.  The info is out there but I decided that I had learned what I needed.  But, yes, the fact is that this 180 degree change came at a point in time just after the Dow CEO had gained access to the President and after Dow Chemical donated $1 million.

The only things which isn't 100% accurate is the claim that it was a Nazi nerve drug, but even here it isn't far off. A German researcher, named Gerhard Schrader, discovered that organophosphates interact with cholinesterase, which is an enzyme that aids in the production of an important neurotransmitter. Schrader was trying to develop an insecticide but he found that it was exceptionally toxic and he even ended up hospitalized due to contact. That was 1930. So, whereas Chlorpyrifos wasn't developed as a nerve gas by the Nazis for the military, organophosphate compounds known as Tabun and Sarin grew out of Schrader's research and did become a military weapon.

This does confirm the complaint against the Trump Administration, and it definitely makes one wonder about the EPA under Pruitt's leadership. No one, and I mean NO one, argues that organophosphates are not extremely and dangerously toxic, yet our government is allowing it to be sprayed on your fruits and vegetables.  How comfortable is that?

The EPA now says that the previous EPA science was flawed. Are they allowed to say “science”?  The Trump EPA says that Chlorpyrifos is safe as mixed by Dow. Of course, that doesn’t instill much confidence since it is the same Trump EPA that says exposure to radiation equal to 5,000 chest x-rays is safe. 

Think about this when you bite into that apple. 

RTR Nomad Community

A "street" at RTR 2018

A young woman needs an 11/16 inch impact bit to finish fixing the suspension on her truck. It is important because her truck pulls her cargo trailer home. The word passes through the campsites until a bit is found.  A couple have a mishap with their scooter and need transportation.  A new nomad, alone and wondering about the future finds friendship, guidance, assistance and encouragement.  Two young women talk about what they see as the reality of their lives.  People sharing directions to dispersed camping they have discovered in unbelievably beautiful places that most Americans only see on Facebook or National Geographic.

A little over a week ago a great number of people – mostly nomads who generally live relatively secluded lives, traveling the country, seeking out places of great natural beauty – came together to form an instant city.  A sea of campers, vans, trailers, school buses, cargo trailers, truck campers and RVs of every sort, we come together for the purpose of sharing a short-term community. We come together to share, to learn, to grow and to celebrate life. 

The event which created this nomad city and brought this community to life is the Rubber Tramp Rendezvous (RTR) which gathers annually in the desert outside the town of Quartzsite, Arizona.  Despite our tremendous diversity we are drawn together by a sense of commonality which quickly jump starts community.  

There are several sub-groups in the RTR; e.g. the music group, the art group, etc.; just as you would find in any community.  However, there are three things which unite us all – being minimalists, which is a natural part of the nomadic life and creating comfortable living facilities that are very mobile and capable of staying off-the-grid for extended periods.  “Off-the-grid” means living in places like the desert or a forest where there are no utilities or services.  We must be able to be totally self-contained and self-sufficient.

Our living units must be quite mobile and enable this self-contained and self-sufficient life. This draws us together.  Nothing brings nomads together in friendship like talking about meeting these challenges. Nothing binds us together like supporting, encouraging and helping each other. We study each other’s rigs and pick each other’s brains for ideas.  When we discover or learn something we share it with the community. You never watch your neighbor struggle.

An RTR group activity 

During the day we have activities at RTR.  There are morning meditation and yoga groups.  There’s an art center and music group. There is plenty to do but the majority do what most of us came to do; viz. make new friends, greet old friends, and sit and talk. 

I think Americans have forgotten about talking and visiting.  Some of us are old enough to remember how people would sit on porches and talk and visit on a warm summer’s evening. It was something that happened in large cities as well as small towns. Now people sit inside and watch television.  It is sad how the very design of new homes on large lots isolates people from a community.  Each evening the desert here is dotted with campfires surrounded by people – friends - talking about the day, sharing stories about their adventures since last year, admiring the magnificent night sky, swapping information about and directions to new and exciting places to visit, and learning more about their new friends.

Free stuff. 

As a group we don’t have a lot of money and we are, by nature, extremely frugal.  Because we don’t have a lot of money we may be more inclined to share.  At the center of our RTR camp there are four large tarps with everything from clothing to books to tools and food. It is all free, and it is all put there by members of the community.  I saw a man putting a very nice pair of auto jacks in the tool pile. He could have posted them on Craig’s List or other sale forum but he elected to put them out to share with someone who needed them and might not have the money to buy a pair.  We have learned, through our very life-style, that you don’t waste anything and you don’t buy what you don’t need.  I guess you’d call us frugal minimalists.

Thanksgiving 2017 near Cottonwood, AZ

I can’t help but digress here and share an example from Thanksgiving 2017.  This community - this sharing - isn’t limited to our time at RTR. It takes place wherever nomads come together.  At Thanksgiving we were on a beautiful ridge just north of Cottonwood, Arizona.  There were a number of us camped there, and about half were looking for work and experiencing hard times. As a community we decided to have a Thanksgiving dinner.  There were two or three who just didn’t have anything to share but we were able to convince them to come because we were confident there would be plenty of food. (Have you ever seen a carry-in where there was a shortage of food?)  One of our nomad friends had a forty foot Class-A.  We met at his place because he had an outside television.  He had never used it, but he figured it out.  Twenty of us had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner in the desert and watched football on Robert’s television.  That is sharing. That is community.

There is also a great deal of sharing of information at RTR. It is meant to be a time and place for new nomads to come and gather information, knowledge, experience and encouragement from those of us who have some experience under our belts.  There are classes in everything from solar energy to solar baking, sharing new gadgets to outfitting a Prius for full-timing. Even outside the classes experienced nomads help and encourage the new comers. A friend of ours who spent years in a Prius came to RTR this year in a pop-up truck camper.  He is an engineer and has tremendous outside-the-box ideas, and he really enjoys sharing his ideas.

Nomads tend to be loners or stay in small groups.  RTR is our exception for the sole purpose of coming together to share, to learn, to grow and to celebrate our way of life.  I believe that it is a great success.  

"We know we belong to the land ...."

Our trailer, Nitsitapiisinni, at sunset during the Rubber Tramp
Rendevous.  

“We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand . . . .”  (the musical Oklahoma)

When you are in the desert with a group of over 3,500 registered units – meaning more than 3,500 people and as many as >7,000 – you expect to see almost everything.  For the most part, that’s true. We just saw a moving van that had been transformed into a marvelous motorhome complete with a fold-down deck, wood sash windows and exterior lighting.  The lady across from us, who is the founder of Boondockers United, is in a Fleetwood Wilderness just like our Willy, which was 35 years old.  There are  a number of cargo vans,  cargo trailers, Transits, truck-camper popups and other vehicles that have been creatively transformed into nomadic homes.  Many people give Pamela and me great praise for all of the little things we’ve done to Nitsitapiisinni (our 20 ft camper trailer home) to make her more comfortable, but they pale at the effort, energy and creativity that has gone into many of these nomadic dwellings.*

The RTR at sunset from our back window. 

We all share three things; we love living off-the-grid, we are all stricken with an incurable case of wanderlust, and we have a common aversion to cities.  This large RV city in the desert, which our rendezvous has created, is short lived and only annual. You do find almost everything here.  There are many of us who have adequate retirement plans and have elected this life style.  There are younger people who decided not to wait until retirement and work as needed and wherever to finance their nomadic urges. Then there are those who are out of work and/or down on their luck who elected to live the nomadic life and live in the desert rather than reside in the squalor and crime of a city while they look for employment.  Some of them find work among the nomads by installing solar panels and doing odd jobs.  It is a growing community of people.  The growth is partially due to people realizing how much more fun, healthy, and stress-free this life-style is as well as people being forced by our society to make a choice. I think they “choose wisely.” 

Volunteers get their bags and tools as they set out into
the desert to clean up. 

Yes, you find almost everything here at the Rubber Tramp Rendevous (RTR). But one thing is, to me, very conspicuously missing. Trash! The RTR camping area is unbelievably clean.  Historically the group of people called hobos and tramps were notoriously dirty. That just isn’t true here despite the name Rubber Tramp. Quite the contrary. Pamela and I have stayed in a lot of dispersed camping in the desert.  To be exact, we have stayed in 22 different dispersed camping areas in the desert since January 2017.  We have never seen a cleaner camping area, which is mind-boggling considering the tremendous number of people who suddenly converged on this small plot of desert.  As well seasoned camp-hosts it is second nature for us to pick up any trash, and we’ve been known to police (clean up) camping areas, even when they are national parks.  We have been at RTR for a week and we haven’t found one piece of trash to pick up!! 

There are multiple reasons for this. Perhaps the most significant one here is that there are a lot of veteran nomads at RTR.  We teach the newbees, and respect for the environment is at the top of the curriculum.  The vast majority of nomads have a deep and abiding love for nature and will work hard at doing no harm. 

Volunteers were from RTR. Some were also members
of Boondockers United.  

This was illustrated today by a large group of people who answered the call for help from Boondockers United, a fledgling organization dedicated not only to nomads helping nomads, but to creating a close relationship with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) in order to protect and preserve the precious land upon which we live.  The founder of Boondockers United put out a call for people to help clean up an area that had been trashed by prospectors and thoughtless people attempting to permanently live in the area. We removed several trailer loads of trash, mattresses, tires and abandoned tents and clothing. The BLM Rangers insisted that only they deal with human excrement. A nasty job. Pamela and I each found a mine shaft that had been filled with trash when the prospectors didn’t strike it rich.  The BLM will have to call in a special cleanup team. It is sad that we are forced to use precious funds and resources to clean up after such people.  The RTR also has another clean-up planned for Saturday, January 20^th.  

BLM officer looking at one of the mines we found filled
with trash and garbage. He will have to call in a special
team to clean it up.

The important thing about such efforts is two-fold: (1) helping the authorities clean-up such messes not only helps them conserve funds and valuable resources, that serve to keep the lands open to public recreation, but it creates a bond of trust and partnership so that we are able to keep these marvelous public lands open for public use. If we don’t help and uncaring people trash the land, the BLM, National Forest Service, or whatever the authority, will have no other option than to close the land to public use. That would be devastating not only to nomads and other campers but the myriad of hikers, hunters, climbers and others who frequent and enjoy our public land. (2) By doing this we help the environment. By helping the environment, we help ourselves.  Everything is interdependent. That is not some sort of spiritual hokus-pokus. It can be shown logically and scientifically that every living organism carries in it a part of the beginning of the universe. We witnessed this summer how a hurricane in the Gulf of Mexico can impact weather, fires and other natural phenomena a continent away. It can be demonstrated that what happens to this tiny planet in the corner of the Milky Way will impact the entire universe.  But most important to all of us is that what happens to the environment is going to mean suffering or happiness, life or death to all living organism including homo sapiens.  

A portion of the area we cleaned. 

Our public lands are one of our greatest treasures.  These public lands are not just here in the west. They are just more obvious because of their sheer size, but there is public land for you to use and enjoy in every State in the Union.  If we do not make an effort to protect them and help our government agencies given the task of caring for them, they will disappear. That would be a travesty of the greatest proportions.

To do your part, join at least two organizations – one which works on a national level, like the Sierra Club, and one which is a local hands-on organization, like Boondockers United or Glacier National Park Volunteer Associates or perhaps your local garden club.

  “We (all) belong to the land. And the land we belong to is grand . . . . “  

Gold mine entrance filled with trash.

BLM Rangers insisted that the
volunteer not risk dealing with
human excrement.

=============

*-  I want so much to share the tremendous creativity one sees here that I’m going to have to write a blog about it.