Mar 27 2013

Anza-Borrego boondocking

Apologies for not updating the blog sooner. It has been a case of classic conundrums: finally escaping for a bit of time off and so not wanting to get back at the computer right away; and finding a great boondocking spot where cellular Internet service is marginal. After two nights out in the windy wild desert of Anza-Borrego I’m starting to rejuvenate.

But that’s later in the story. We left Tucson on Monday morning for the 370-mile trip across the west on I-8. Normally this is a trip that we’d take two days to complete, just because it’s more fun to stop along the way and camp for a night somewhere, but in this case we wanted to catch up with Kyle & Mary as soon as possible so that they could be reunited with the daughter we’d taken hostage. I have done the I-8 drive many times but so far I’m not tired of it. The desert scenery is interesting to me, although to other people it’s just a lot of nothing, and knowing something about the history, politics, and geology that have shaped this region makes me reflective, which makes the drive go quickly. The neat thing is that there’s still a lot to learn, about the ancient native communities, the volcanic eruptions, Patton’s tanks practicing during WWII, the stories of dusty little towns and abandoned airfields, the real estate plats that never happened, and the endless human drama of the border.

Our goal was reached by about 5:45, safely before sunset, which was ideal because we were planning to find Kyle & Mary and Brian & Leigh at one of Anza-Borrego’s desert boondocking spots, near Clark Dry Lake. Being telecommuters, they all have a nose for spots that offer usable cell phone signal, and Brian & Leigh in particular are adept at finding those spots that offer the ideal balance of remoteness & technology. In this case they’d plotted exactly which empty patches of desert near the dry lake would have signal, and as we arrived they stood by the road to wave us in (there’s no sign to find this spot) and help us park in one of the few locations where we could get online and be near them.

So here we are, three Airstreams parked on the valley floor between Coyote Peak and the Santa Rosa Mountains with the dry lake less than a mile down the shallow slope. A few other RVs of various make are scattered around too; this isn’t an unknown spot. Nearby is Pegleg, a popular boondocking spot a little closer to the town, and all along the 22 miles of the Borrego Salton Seaway road there are others scattered in the canyons and flats as well.

There’s no place where it feels even slightly crowded. This is a desert park of vast dimensions, so we are enjoying a panoramic view where most other RVs (other than our friends) are mere dots on the horizon. It’s going to be hard to move to traditional campground after this.

Clark Dry Lake campsite After the long drive we were inclined just to settle in rather than rushing out to go exploring. Our packing was somewhat rushed, so there were things to finalize inside the trailer, and we needed dinner, and of course we’d been in the car for seven hours so there was no desire to get in it again. I broke out the little Weber propane grill for sausages and Eleanor made some pasta and vegetables, and then as we were finishing dinner everyone came over to visit because we were all excited to be here.

A-B friends in AS None of us are retired and we all have jobs (whether office-type or parenting/teaching), so Tuesday morning was really all about work. I had made some effort last week to clear my desk as much as possible, so I worked only about three hours in the morning, but when I was done everyone else was still at work, including the mothers and daughters doing homeschooling. Eleanor and I finally got a chance to head into Borrego Springs (while the girls were preoccupied between themselves) in the afternoon, to check out what’s changed in the two years since we’ve been here. Not much, it turned out, which is fine with me. I like the small town nature of the place, the lack of retail chains and cutesy gift shops, the farm stands and the complete absence of crowds.

While Eleanor hung back to work on dinner and the girls talked books in the 34-footer, the rest of us loaded up in the Mercedes to do a little 4WD road nearby, called Rockhouse Canyon Road. It passes through Clark Dry Lake and onward through soft sand and gravel, eventually ending up at a place called Hidden Spring several miles up. This turned out to be a moderately interesting drive, but the road turned a little too technical toward the last mile and upon a vote of the car passengers we turned back. There aren’t a lot of desert blooms this year, owing to a dry winter, but we found a few.

The lake does occasionally get wet, and when it does there is a tiny species of brine shrimp that flourish in the shallow muddy water. Bert Gildart photographed these on his blog last winter, using some advanced photographic techniques. When the lake is wet the road is impassable, but for our trip it was dry, cracked, and very solid.

Since we arrived it has been lightly breezy, but last night the wind picked up and began to howl in the windows we’d cracked open for a little air. Everyone took in their awnings and I found that the Weber would not stay lit at anything less than full heat, which meant our chicken had to be finished in the oven and dinner was late. All night the wind raced past the Airstream, which wasn’t discomforting but a little noisy. This morning it is still howling at a solid 20-30 MPH (my estimate) although the official prognostication is for much less. The weather service guys clearly aren’t boondocked out here with us in a vast open stretch of desert.

Today we have a reservation at the state park campground, so we’ll be hitching up and moving a few miles. This gives us two nights of full hookups before we head out again on Friday. After that our destination is unknown but I think since it will be Good Friday and Easter weekend we will likely be boondocking somewhere for another couple of nights. We’ll coordinate with our friends and may stick with them, or may head off on our own.

Dec 24 2012

2013 travel plans

2013 is right around the corner, and as with every year I’m considering our options for travel. It’s looking like it will be a very interesting year.

Our first big trip will likely be in late March or April. Normally we take a week around New Year’s to go camping in southern California, but this year we are going to hang around Tucson over the holidays, and take a longer trip to California in the spring after we’re done with Alumafiesta in Tucson. The general idea is to meander up the California coast for a few weeks, stringing together a lot of visits along the way.

We haven’t made that trip since 2005, when we started at Florence OR in mid November and worked our way down the coast all the way for Christmas at the San Diego Zoo. It was a very memorable trip, and I can’t believe that it was seven years ago—until I look at the pictures of Emma, age 5.

This time we’ll do the trip heading north, starting in Anza-Borrego and then working up the coast. I don’t know how far north we’ll get, but at the very least we will see some redwood trees.

These days none of our travel is arbitrary. Time seems to be more scarce for us, so the multi-week trip that we would just throw together on a whim in the past now requires major planning sessions. I have to justify the time in the Airstream more carefully than ever before, because every departure from home base disrupts projects and goals for all three of us.

A good travel route comes together like a string of pearls, and right now I’m collecting those pearls along the 1,200 mile string between San Diego and Oregon. We’ll stop in to see friends in the major cities, visit Airstream Life clients and prospects, camp in a few beauty spots, and replenish our resources of Airstream stock photography and future contributors that we meet along the way. So far I’ve got about eight or nine stops in mind, and by the time the trip dates come we’ll probably have a dozen or more things that we need/want to do. The real trick will be getting it all done in three to five weeks, before we’re required to come back to Tucson for something.

This summer looks even more challenging, in the sense that we have to figure out some complicated travel. As with the previous three years, everything starts with Alumapalooza in Jackson Center OH. I love doing Alumapalooza but it forces us into more or less the same travel pattern every year, which is boring. Once again we will hit the road some time in May and work northeast toward Ohio, then continue east to Vermont. Fortunately, after that the program will likely change, and I can’t say how much until we get further along our planning cycle. Most likely the Airstream will stay in Vermont most of the summer, but Eleanor and I may fly off a couple of times to attend events far away.

I’d really like to make this the year of our long-awaited Airstream trip to Newfoundland. It’s a tough trip to make, because the miles are long, the costs are high, and connectivity (for a working person) is difficult. Even from Vermont it’s a long trip, over 1,500 miles to St. John’s NFL, which is like driving from New York City to Dallas TX. Diesel in Newfoundland today is the equivalent of $5.19 per gallon (US), and the ferry for all three of us plus the Airstream would run about $830 round-trip. Still cheaper than Alaska, which is sort of the “white whale” of RV’ing in North America, but Newfoundland is definitely not easy.

Eleanor and I went there in 1995 via car, tent camping and staying in local inns across Maine, New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Prince Edward Island, traveling 2,000 miles, and all in nine days. It was beautiful, memorable, and exciting. This time we’d like to go more slowly and explore more. Each year I look at it and wonder if this will be the optimal year to go. The only thing that has improved over the past few years has been Internet connectivity, and it’s still pretty spotty compared to US standards. So I’d have to disconnect for much of the trip, which is simultaneously a wonderful and horrifying thought.

Another “wish list” trip is Europe. For the past couple of years I’ve been investigating the realities of European travel by American Airstreamers, and unfortunately it’s pretty hard to do. You have two basic options: (1) ship your suitably small Airstream over and do a quickie conversion to make it legal and compatible with EU standards, then ship it back; or (2) buy an Airstream in Europe. Both options are expensive and would only worthwhile for an extended trip of several months, which is not possible for us right now. We’re looking at a third option for this summer, which is basically hanging out with European Airstreamers while we travel conventionally by car & hotel. Not ideal but at least feasible, and if the stars align it might yet happen.

Meanwhile back at in the states we have things to do too. The big one is Alumafandango, which is our August event. Last summer we held it in Denver. After much consideration, we have decided to hold it in central Oregon, so I’ve got to get there for that at a time when the Airstream is going to be almost as far away as it can be. The answer will be a plane ticket and a hotel room, unless I can borrow an Airstream in Oregon for a week. Still working on that.

Officially we haven’t announced Alumafandango 2013, so you’re the first to hear about it, but the registration form is open now if you want to check it out. Dates will be August 6-11, 2013, at the wonderful Seven Feathers RV Resort in Canyonville, OR. That’s right on I-5, about 200 miles south of Portland. Like Alumafiesta in Tucson, it will be a first-class event with all full hookups in a really nice campground, indoor displays of Airstreams, lots of activities, etc. Pricing is the same as Alumafiesta. There’s more updated info on the website, even though the graphics still show last year’s event.

After Alumafandango I’ll have to fly back to Vermont, retrieve the Airstream and family, and then begin the long trek back west to home base. All told, the Airstream will probably log about 9,000 miles this summer (plus 3,000 if we manage to get to Newfoundland), the Mercedes will probably cover more like 12,000 miles, and by September I’ll be really glad to just park myself back at the desk again … and think about 2014.

Sep 01 2012

No reservations

As I mentioned in the previous blog, we left Dinosaur CO with no firm plan of where we were going to spend the next night. This is not unusual for us, as we tend not to make reservations as we travel. In this part of the country there are lots of boondocky BLM campgrounds that will serve for a night’s stay without much fear of the campgrounds filling up.

That is, under normal circumstances. Unfortunately this is Labor Day weekend, a fact that I had overlooked when initially sketching out our rough travel plan a few weeks ago. Labor Day, like Memorial Day, is one of the weekends of the year that always causes us problems, because everyone who owns an RV comes out and fills every national, state, county, and BLM campground for three days.

Added to that was the factor of climate. We are usually heading back from New England around this time of year, and so air conditioning is less of a requirement than it is in the desert southwest. At Dinosaur we were encountering temperatures in the mid-90s by day, with lots of sun, and as we worked our way down the border of Utah and Colorado it wasn’t going to get any cooler. In this part of the country, altitude means a lot more than latitude, and we were definitely going down by both measures, so the primitive BLM sites would mean a warm evening.

Our drive down through western Colorado was filled with bucolic rolling scenery. I had put all faith in Garminita, which is always a bad idea. She chosen Rt 139 in Colorado, using her usual doctrine of “quickest” possible route, which in this case took us over an unsigned pass called Douglas. Scenic and direct, yes. My only tip that things were about to get interesting was a gate at the beginning of the climb, which the road crews use to close the road in winter, and a drop in speed limit from 45 to 25. There were no signs indicating that a steep grade was ahead.

Well, the Mercedes has not yet met the grade it can’t climb with 7,500 pounds of Airstream attached. It doesn’t climb quickly, but it always gets there. In this case, we estimated Douglas to be about a 10% grade on the way up (heading south) and a 10-12% grade going down, with a peak elevation of 8,200 feet. It easily was the steepest road we’ve ever descended, and equal to the dreaded Teton Pass (10%) between Jackson Hole WY and Idaho. The only steeper one I’ve seen is the road into Tonto Natural Bridge State Park (AZ) at 14% and we didn’t take the Airstream down that.

We climbed and descended successfully, using second gear much of the time for engine braking on the way down, and managed to complete Douglas Pass without overheating, needing to turn off the air conditioner, or smoking the brakes. Still, it would have been nice to have had a sign beforehand warning of the steep grade.

After this, while on Interstate 70 from Colorado to Utah, we began discussing our options for an overnight stop. From a distance perspective, our ideal stop would be somewhere south of Moab. That would allow us to pull in around 6 p.m.

We had our eyes on Canyonlands National Park’s “Needles District,” which we’ve never visited before. But being the holiday weekend, it was iffy whether we’d get in there. The National Park campground, Squaw Flat, is not very large and is entirely first-come, first-camped. Worse, the entry road from Rt 191, which is the main highway heading south from Moab, is 34 miles long, so just taking a peek to see if spaces were available would take nearly an hour.

My second choice was Navajo National Monument in Arizona, but that would require us to drive over 300 miles and arrive around 8 p.m. Hovenweep National Monument would be a slight detour from our route (about 20 miles) but like Navajo, the campground rarely fills because of its remote location, so we weren’t in danger of a shut-out.

We shelved the decision for a while and opted to take a scenic route from I-70 in Utah down to Moab, namely Rt 128. We had no idea what a great decision this was until we got about 15 miles into it. At that point, the road begins to follow the Green River through astonishing red sandstone canyons. It is—and I say this as a guy who has driven a lot of scenic roads in the past few years—among the top ten most scenic drives we’ve ever done. Absolutely spectacular.

Somewhere in this drive we stopped by the river to take a break. I was opening the screen door to step out of the Airstream when a gust of wind caught the unlatched main door and slammed it against three of my fingers. Ouch. After icing the fingers for a few minutes I resolved to ensure that the door is always latched when open. The throbbing fingers at least had the effect of keeping me wide awake for the rest of the drive.

Along this road are numerous BLM campgrounds, all of which seemed about 3/4 full but I wasn’t ready to stop driving quite yet and the outside temperature was hovering in the low 90s. We pressed on through Moab (setting a new record for highest fuel price paid in our travels: $4.29 per gallon for diesel), down past a half dozen commercial campgrounds, Wilson Arch and the famous Hole In The Wall tourist trap, and then we faced the decision point, where Rt 211 heads west toward the Needles District of Canyonlands.

What to do? If we took the turn we’d be facing a one way trip of 34 miles and no guarantee of a campsite. From prior research we knew that there were three campgrounds down the road: Squaw Flat (no hookups but the most appealing site to us for its in-park location), a commercial operation just outside the park entrance (unappealing sites but at least some hookups), and a BLM site called Hamburger Rock about five miles from the park entrance (no hookups).

A park ranger was sitting in his truck at the turnoff to Rt 211, so Eleanor checked with him and he said there were “probably” two open sites at Squaw Flat. Good enough for us. Nearly an hour later, we arrived at the entrance to Canyonlands and found a few empty sites and a handful of white-box Class C rentals being driven by Europeans on vacation. They were looping around the campground like it was a game of musical chairs, trying to choose a campsite.

Being fussy about which campsite you get is not a good idea when there are four campers looking at three campsites on the Friday of Labor Day weekend. You don’t hesitate in a moment like this. Amazingly, our luck held. We snagged a really fantastic site before the musical chairs game ended, and a few minutes after that the campground was full.

This is a beautiful spot. $15 per night, no water, no electric, no dump station, but it’s the scenery, not the services, that you’re paying for. Imagine a place right out of a Wiley Coyote/Roadrunner cartoon, with unlikely red sandstone formations, vibrant blue skies, twisted trees, and deep canyons. The ranger talk we attended last night was held beneath a natural rock overhang. Our campsite is bordered by trees and great boulders that Emma can climb.

We’re reasonably sheltered from both morning and evening light, so hopefully it won’t get terribly hot in the Airstream but we’ll still get midday light for the solar panels. Not that we’ll be using a lot of power. There is no usable cell signal out here, and no wifi at the visitor center. No need to charge the laptops, phones, or iPad. We are in a very remote and quiet place, perfect for Labor Day weekend in my opinion.

Aug 29 2012

Rt 40, Colorado

It was a late start for us yesterday morning; between the mouse hunt and general post-fandango fatigue we ended up not awakening until well after 9 a.m. Then Eleanor decided to make scrambled eggs with a little of the leftover gravlax that she made in her “no cook” demonstration. All told, it was nearly noon when we were finally hitched up and ready to move.

After looking at the calendar we decided it would be better to cut short our visit to the Grand Lake area and move onward to Dinosaur National Monument, about 200 miles west. First of course we had to go to the RMNP visitor center to see the rangers so Emma could get her Junior Ranger badge, which Eleanor estimates is number 68. (She already has one from the east side of RMNP; now she has one from the west side.)

The drive west from Granby CO on Route 40 is another one of the great scenic opportunities of Colorado. For a while, west of Hot Sulphur Springs, the road winds down a steep and narrow canyon with a river and railway. With the white cumulus popping up overhead, and gray streaks of virga in the sky, it was a fantastic visual experience.

Later the clouds turned to bands of rain, which surrounded us and lent even more drama to the sky. We stopped at Rabbit Ears Pass for a roadside lunch (9,500 feet elevation), and then, now west of the Rockies, gradually descended for a few hours all the way back into the desert.

Our arrival at Dinosaur National Monument was perfect to catch the setting sun lighting up the park in fiery orange. A few miles past the visitor center (closed when we arrived at nearly 7 p.m.) we came to our destination: Green River campground. This is a very pleasant place right at the banks of the Green River, with lots of large trees for shade and paved level campsites. However, it has no hookups, which is probably part of the reason it never fills. We debated a few minutes whether we wanted shade for coolness during the day, or sun for solar power. We ended up with site #59, which offers sun most of the day and shade in the late afternoon. Hopefully this will be a good compromise, as the temperature when we arrived was about 91 degrees.

I’m surprised to have a weak but usable cell phone signal here. We are in a valley, at least 7 miles from the highway and any semblance of a town. I had expected to go fully on vacation for a couple of days. The campground has a payphone, connected by satellite, which is usually a tip-off that cellular signals do not penetrate. But since I can make contact with the outside world, I’ll at least check email once a day and try to post a blog.

Our mouse may have bailed out. There’s no sign of him today, despite Eleanor deliberately leaving out a few champagne grapes as temptation. He could not had have an enjoyable trip across Colorado, since Route 40 has plenty of bumps & rolls. In our experience, mice don’t like towing. Tonight we may have to try leaving out a little chocolate, just to be sure. He definitely preferred Special Dark over the Mr. Goodbar.

The comments keep coming in about Alumafandango. Apparently my public venting about the staff experience encouraged attendees to offer their point of view, and they have been uniformly positive. I got a call from Joe P yesterday, signing up for Alumafiesta in Tucson, and he said that he was signing up for Tucson specifically because he’d had such a great time in Lakeside. Many other people emailed to say they had a wonderful time too. I have to remember the duck theory: Remain placid above the water, and beneath the water keep paddling furiously.

During our drive along Route 40, Eleanor and I were talking about this, and about some of our favorite attendees. There were some people who really embraced the philosophy of the Wally Byam way of Airstreaming, and among those were the Finnesgards. Merlin, Maxine, Joe and Beverly came in two Airstreams parked side by side at Alumafandango, and they were such wonderful people that I want to give them a little “shout out” from the blog. Being Minnesotans, they are people who take care of themselves.

One of their group is on oxygen, and they are all seniors, so you might think that they had justification to really complain when the power went out on the first two hot days of the event. But far from it. Those Finnesgards were endlessly cheerful. I never saw them without a smile on their faces, and they went out of their way to tell us what a great time they were having. They knew that whatever happened, they had their Airstreams, which meant they had everything they needed, and so why complain? That’s how Wally would have done it. Thanks for coming.

Today our plan is to explore this side of Dinosaur National Monument, with a series of small hikes and perhaps a Ranger talk. This is a big park, so tomorrow we’ll relocate the Airstream nearer to the Canyon area (25+ miles away) and explore over there next.

Aug 28 2012

Grand Lake, CO

For our attendees, departing Alumapalooza or Alumafandango is a sad moment, saying goodbye to friends new & old. But for us organizers, it’s always a great feeling to be pulling away from five days of intensive work, and just winding down. We spent our Sunday evening in the overflow lot of a nearby RV park, cleaning up the accumulated dust and re-organizing the Airstream. For us it’s a time to take long showers, eat a leisurely dinner, and get a good night’s sleep. So we did all of that and then we hitched up for points unknown.

Our intended goal was Dinosaur National Monument, 370 miles away, but we quickly began to be tempted by the many mining towns and natural sites of Colorado, and before long we detoured the scenic way up Rt 40. This route winds north from I-70 through some fantastic mountain views, all the way up to Berthoud Pass at 11,314 feet. Halfway up we found we could roll down the windows and open the sunroof to let the 64 degree air chill a week of Denver heat from our bodies and psyches.

Less than a hundred miles from Lakeside, we ended up in the Arapaho National Recreation Area near the town of Grand Lake, CO. We’re set up at Stillwater campground, a beautiful site atop a bluff that overlooks Lake Granby and the mountains to our east.

Everything here is reserved for the Labor Day weekend, but we are only staying for one night. We got here early enough on Monday that we had time to go to Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) and check out the historic Grand Lake Lodge, then the RMNP visitor center, then tour the historic Holzwarth dude ranch, and walk downtown Grand Lake. We got caught by a torrential thunderstorm while walking the boardwalks of Grand Lake, and had to take refuge for a while before I finally ran two blocks through the rain to get the car. It was a great & full day, and now the dust from Lakeside (both literal and psychological) is washed off.

Our plan today was to do a pair of hikes in the RMNP but we woke late. We’re still catching up on sleep. Also, a mouse came into the trailer last night to eat my stash of Hershey’s Special Dark Chocolate bars (we’d left them on the counter in a plastic bag), and we heard his attempts to drag an entire mini-bar away for a private nosh. So around 5:30 a.m. Eleanor and I were awake to secure all the goodies. Eleanor spotted the culprit, a chocolate-colored beast himself, with large “cute” eyes, before he disappeared somewhere in the kitchen. He will abandon ship later today when we start towing; they always do.

Given that we’ve blown half the day already, and with an eye to the fact that Labor Day is this weekend (so many popular campgrounds will be full) we’ve decided to move onward to Dinosaur today. We’ll spend a few days there and then work down through Utah back to home by Sunday or Monday. Along this route are many lesser-known campsites that don’t take reservations and rarely fill (Dinosaur’s Green River camp, Hovenweep, Navajo, etc) so we’ll follow the path less traveled and have a nice flexible weekend.