Dec 05 2009

Following Route 66

When I planned this trip, I hadn’t anticipated sub-freezing temperatures all the way down to St Louis. It was a cold start in the morning from Lincoln, IL. The car said it was 24 degrees but it seemed colder. Everything was coated in heavy frost, and the air was so nippy it hurt to breathe in through my nose. I’m glad I didn’t try to spend the night in the Caravel. I really needed that hotel room and warm shower, and I slept 10 hours very solidly.

Heading south long I-55 all morning I saw frosted brown stalks of corn fields, and half-frozen cattle stomping around on white grass. It didn’t warm up until late in the morning, and by then I was crossing into Missouri. Worse, there was a strong wintry headwind slowing me down, and the GL was getting only 12.5 MPG fighting it.

It hadn’t occurred to me until this morning that I was approximately following the historical Route 66. The “mother road” used to run from Chicago to Los Angeles, paralleling I-55, I-44, and I-40 — exactly my route. But watching the scenery closely (and what else is there to do alone in the car for ten hours?) I began to notice the quirky roadside signs and attractions that are today’s hallmark of historic Route 66.

The Pink Elephant Antique store was the first good sign of Route 66 I noticed. I am a fan of architecture and giant-sized mid-century outdoor kitsch, so at first their classic soft-serve stand caught my eye; then the shell of a Futuro House (only the second one I’ve ever seen; and then a “Muffler Man“. I’m fans of all these things, so to find them all in one spot was worth exiting the highway and doubling back for three miles along the frontage road. The bonus was discovering that the frontage road was formerly Route 66, so I felt very good towing my little vintage Airstream to see the Pink Elephant.

The temperatures this time of year naturally discourage camping in the north. I gave up looking for an open campground in Illinois, but was still hoping to fill the Caravel’s water tank along the way so that I could sanitize it while I drove. (Eleanor and I mixed up a pre-measured batch of bleach and water to dump into the tank. After four hours, all the bugs that might be living in the plumbing will be dead, so I can drain the system and refill with pure water.) But the Flying J I visited in Missouri had turned its water off for the season. I took this as a sign that I was still too far north, and proceeded on.

Pulling into a rest area sometime later, I heard a strange clanging. One of the Caravel’s wheel trim rings fell off just as I was slowing down, and it rolled along right behind me to finally stop 20 feet behind the trailer. That’s something I was rather accustomed to back in the days when the Caravel was our primary trailer: things falling off in transit. With the refurb, I expected those days would be mostly behind me, but I guess not. To be on the safe side, I removed the other trim ring and tossed them in the car for safekeeping. I’ll have to figure out how to secure them better in the future.

Being cautious, I am towing at no more than 62 MPH (and usually 60 MPH), so it’s difficult to cover as many miles as I was a few days ago. After nine hours of driving I managed 520 miles and then parked in Tulsa OK. This will be my first night in the Caravel. It’s still cold, but not nearly as cold as before (about 40 degrees as I type this), so with the catalytic heater pumping out warmth, and my sleeping bag, I should be completely comfortable.

This is “dry camping,” meaning that I have no water in the trailer and thus can’t wash, use the bathroom, or do dishes. Cabin-fevered northerners often do this when their trailers are winterized, just to have a brief getaway. The usual technique is to have a few gallons of water for drinking, and rely on the campground bathroom for everything else. Since I’m stealth camping in the middle of Tulsa, I’m using the bathrooms of local stores and restaurants. Can’t get a shower this way, but at least I can cover the basics, and meals are only a short walk away.

The weather is clear along my route, so it’s my choice whether to take the quickest way home or an alternate. The quick way is still 900 miles, on I-40 to Albuquerque and then down I-25 to I-10. Problem is, that brings me up to 6,000 feet elevation. Albuquerque — my overnight stop — will be freezing at night again, and not too warm by day either. If I dip down into Texas via Wichita Falls and Abilene, I’ll have a much warmer climate at the cost of an additional 50 miles and about two hours of travel time. Right now, I’m craving warmth so I am leaning toward the Texas tour. I’ll figure it out before I get to Oklahoma City tomorrow.

Dec 04 2009

Snowy and cold on the road

I knew that the logistics of this particular trip would be challenging. Going up to Grand Rapids MI to get a trailer in December is just asking for trouble. I wasn’t expecting sunshine and tropical breezes, but I was hoping for at least a lucky break where there would be no fierce headwinds and no snow. No such luck.

The drive up from Louisville to Grand Rapids was uneventful. I started at 8:30 a.m. under gray scudded skies and occasional light rain, but with temperatures in the upper 30s. The roads that hadn’t yet frozen for the season so there was no risk of ice. I covered the 400+ miles quickly and arrived at Ken’s shop by 4 p.m.

The Caravel was awaiting me in the shop. It looks pretty good. I did an pre-departure inspection and discovered that the refrigerator wouldn’t come on, and the water pump wasn’t connected to 12v, and a few other minor bugs. We fixed the fridge and the pump, found my hitch, loaded the miscellaneous parts & pieces, and I was ready to go. My friend Charlie had come up from South Bend to see the trailer and check out Ken’s shop, and after hitching up the trailer, Ken & Petey invited both of us to dinner at their house.

By the time dinner was done, we had three inches of fluffy powder on the deck. It made the trailer look very picturesque. That’s about all I can say in favor of it. I had planned to tow down to Charlie’s house, to get a jump on the first 100 miles of my trip southward. I wasn’t excited about towing the new trailer in the dark and in a snowstorm. After much consulting of The Weather Channel, we realized that the bulk of the snow was landing away from the shoreline of Lake Michigan. The route to South Bend is mostly along the shoreline, so we decided to make a run for his house.

At first this appeared to be a big mistake. We drove right into one of those horrible blinding snowstorms of fat white flakes that rush at your headlights and obscure the view. Traffic on the Interstate was moving at 30 MPH and the car was getting shoved around by ruts in the snow. I considered heading back but after seven miles things began to clear up, and then as we reached the shoreline the snow ended, just as we’d thought it would.

Still, I wandered around South Bend for ten minutes, momentarily lost, and didn’t pull into the driveway of Charlie’s house until nearly 10:30. We sat up another hour talking and then I settled into their guest bedroom, since the Caravel was winterized and empty of propane.

I got a start on making the trailer habitable today. I filled up the two 30# tanks with propane, and bought some small plastic storage bins to organize my stuff. I also fired up the catalytic heater to see how well it worked (very well, as it turned out). That’s as far as I could go without water. My rule of thumb is that I can de-winterize a trailer (fill the tank, water heater, and plumbing lines with fresh water) if the daytime temperatures are above freezing. That way the trailer won’t freeze while towing. But the temperatures in South Bend were unseasonably low — 26 degrees, with a biting west wind that made it seem much colder.

This was disappointing but not unexpected. It’s cold nearly everywhere in the US today. The only solution seemed to be to drive south and hope for better temperatures tomorrow. So I hauled out at about 2:30, drove about 250 miles, and got a hotel. With a hotel rather than dry-camping in the Airstream, I’ll have high-speed Internet to catch up on work, a hot shower, breakfast, Weather Channel on TV, and plenty of heat. It’s going down to 16 degrees tonight!

Since it’s low season for this particular hotel, I was able to park my rig right outside my window and keep an eye on it during the evening.

From here I have only the vaguest of plans. I need to get back to Tucson fairly soon, to get a pile of work done on deadline. Weather is the dominant factor in determining my route. At this point it looks like the best route will be right through the heart of the country. Once I get to I-40 I’ll have to make a decision whether to go high-altitude through Texas and New Mexico, or dip straight south into Texas for possible warmer weather. I don’t expect really warm temps anywhere in the next few days, so lack of precipitation will be the best I can hope for.

The poor Caravel was looking gorgeous in the shop, but now the front is covered with frozen slush and the sides are streaked with road gunk. The Mercedes isn’t looking too good either. I am dreaming of a warm sunny day in southern Arizona, where I am stopping at a car wash to get all the northern winter grime cleaned off the polished aluminum.

Dec 03 2009

Day Two of RVIA

We must be getting the hang of it after five years of visiting RVIA, because we had a rather less complicated second day, with less rushing around. Just by hanging out at the Airstream booth in the morning we were able to find several people we wanted to speak to. I felt like a spider in a web, just waiting for people to blunder into my snare. This knocked quite a lot of business off our “to-do” list and gave us the afternoon to browse some of the more startling RV’s on the show floor.

With the downturn in the industry, the overall show is quite a bit smaller (in square footage) than previously. Predictably, the giant Class A’s in the $500k and up range are fewer, but they are still popular offerings. When the heavy business is done, I like to take a walk through some of the really over-the-top rigs just for entertainment value. Winnebago was trying hard with scaled down A’s, but Tiffen and Fleetwood (among others) still are supplying the people who really need a Class A motorhome with granite countertops, five large TVs, two bathrooms, marble floors, power window shades, and four huge slideouts. I can’t say I wouldn’t like to live in some of them, but it would feel weird to me to drive around a luxury condominium that costs more than any house I’ve ever owned.

The big joy of the day was meeting Sean and Kristy Michael of The Long Long Honeymoon. They were camped outside the convention center and had dropped in for a couple of days to see what RVIA was all about. (If you are thinking about going, keep in mind that it is industry-only, so you must be qualified, and camping on the asphalt is $50 per night.) We were happy to find that the Michaels are just as friendly and fun to talk to as their many online videos demonstrate. I would not be surprised at all to find a video collaboration in our mutual futures. We spent the afternoon talking about ideas and making plans to get together again. They are also now planning to come to Alumapalooza next June, to give a talk and show some of their camping videos.

Airstream made some announcements at the show to the gaggle of financial analysts who always show up at these things. The big news from Bob Wheeler is that production of trailers doubled recently, to 24 trailers per week. That’s still below historic highs but a huge jump and an indicator of the revival of the industry. The whole of Thor Inc. (Airstream’s parent company) is feeling rather bullish about the coming year, and so am I. There are still a lot of companies trying to kill themselves by cutting their way to “survival”, which is like slicing off your arms and legs so you need less food to eat. But more of the companies we saw are making investments and strategic plays for their future, and they came to us with strong requests for new media solutions to help them along. It will be a VERY interesting 2010 for the Airstream Life worldwide media conglomerate…

I know I’ve griped about convention center food and road food many times, so it is my distinct pleasure to tell you about a really good place to eat near the Kentucky Expo Center. Just a couple of miles away is the Windy City Pizzeria, where you can get a Chicago-style pizza, several varieties of microbrews, and a cozy family atmosphere. We found it by chance, in the pouring cold Louisville rain last night. Nobody recommended it, which made finding it kind of fun. We had just hoped to find something local and not too expensive, and this place exceeded our expectations by adding friendly service and great pizza.

I can see it becoming an annual stop for us on RVIA trips in the future. If we can just find one or two more good spots like this, we’ll have the whole trip covered. Then we can stop going to (a) ridiculously expensive business-class restaurants; (b) el-cheap-o and boring chain restaurants.

RVIA runs another day but it is time for us to go. Brett is flying home and I’ve got a 6 hour drive to Grand Rapids to do today, under the threat of lake-effect snow near Lake Michigan. Phase III of my trip begins today, so the blogging will continue.

Dec 02 2009

RVIA 2009, Louisville KY

The mood at the industry’s annual tradeshow, RVIA, is pretty good. The show is considerably smaller than in prior years, but everyone expected that. There is still quite a lot to see and some new products to explore, and people seem to be looking forward to a much better year in 2010. For some of them, there’s nowhere to go but up, and for others this is a prime opportunity to snag market share from competitors who are cowering in the corners “trying to survive the recession.”

Airstream is showing a new interior to replace the Ocean Breeze, called “Serenity.” We got a tour from Bruce Bannister, Airstream’s VP of Product Development. The interior design is Asian-influenced, with white bamboo-look cabinetry and gentle colors. It’s less radical than the Ocean Breeze. The kitchen countertop is particularly interesting, with deep vibrant color and higher durability than before. Overall, I like it. The floor isn’t well shown in this photo but it’s a beautiful pattern. This feels like a wonderful trailer to relax in on a hot sunny day, with its cool and restful colors.

The company is also showing a prototype interior for the Interstate B-van (motorhome). It’s tentatively called Black Onyx, although that may not be the production name. It’s rather executive-feeling inside, with shiny black cabinetry, LED rope lights, and those butter-soft leather seats again. Guys in black suits look good in this rig, as head of Interstate production John Huttle demonstrates in the photo. We’re going to try to get John to speak at Alumapalooza next June about the Interstate motorhomes (and a new upcoming gas version). I expect we’ll also have a demo unit to view.

The other big intro at the show was Airstream’s new 30-foot Flying Cloud. This one has an interesting option to replace the front couch: a pair of swivel chairs mounted to the floor. It gives the interior a very roomy feeling. The rest of the trailer is mostly stock Flying Cloud interior, which means it looks nice. Bruce explained that they did add a lot of radiused corners, and they have the cumulative effect of making the interior feel very friendly.

For us, it’s go-go-go all day, so our day started at 6:30 a.m. and ended at 11 p.m. with dozens of emails to respond to. Today looks about the same. Can’t complain, though, since everything we’ve touched has been very positive and we’ve made a lot of good contacts so far. We will come into 2010 with a lot of new work to do and that’s why we came. Now the long drive up from Tucson is looking a lot more worthwhile …

Nov 30 2009

Little Rock AR-Louisville KY

Now remember why some people don’t like roadtrips. Driving all day just to crash, exhausted, at some hotel with strange disinfectant smells, and then having to hunt up some restaurant in an unfamiliar neighborhood, just isn’t fun. It’s work. You might as well be a long-haul trucker and get paid for it.

Which is what I am right now. This is no pleasure cruise, this is a mission. I’m going up to Michigan in December for the only possible thing that could get me to drive voluntarily to the north in wintertime: our beloved vintage Airstream. This week I am a long-haul trucker, and thank goodness, I’ve completed nearly the deadhead portion of my trip. In a couple of days comes the payload.

There is nothing I can say about today’s drive that would be of interest to anyone. Perhaps later I’ll feel differently, but my overwhelming sense at this moment is that I’ll never get those three days back. I should have been listening to my Spanish lessons on the iPod so that at least I’d be getting something out of the time, instead of listening to 300+ songs and seven podcasts. Although I have to admit, Season 2 of The Red Panda is pretty good.

What did we do on long roadtrips before the iPod? Oh, I remember, we would either flick around for tolerable radio stations every ten minutes, or bring a bunch of cassette tapes. In college I had a bag loaded with about 20 BASF Chrome cassettes, each one holding a recording of a vinyl album (approximately, since the tapes were 45 minutes per side and sometimes that wasn’t enough to fit both sides of the LP).

[Editor’s note: Anyone born after 1980, please consult with an older person for translation of the terms “LP,” “vinyl record,” and “chrome cassette.”]

The cassette tape solution was good for the times, but not good enough. During a trip to the Florida panhandle for Spring Break I discovered that my collection of Pink Floyd tapes did not suit my college compatriots, and ended up listening to AC-DC’s “Back in Black”about seven or eight times. I haven’t been able to listen to that band since. My iPod carries about 2,000 songs at present, enough to carry me to the great wet north and back.

One thing I noticed today is that thanks to the Interstate highway system, it is possible to cross this great country not only without seeing anything, but without speaking to anyone. The iPod provides entertainment. Automated fuel pumps eliminate the need to speak to gas station attendants. Pointing and grunting will get you through most fast-food places. On Sunday I didn’t utter a single word to anyone except myself and my wife (via phone) until the moment I checked into the hotel and found myself trying to find my voice for the desk clerk. (No, I didn’t grunt to order lunch … I skipped it on Sunday.) Too many days of that and I’d probably start to lose contact with humanity. I’ll make up for it in the next two days as I contact a whole convention center full of humanity.

So here I am in the final hotel of the trip, facing the same questions I’ve faced the past two nights. Where to get dinner? Why does the room smell like deodorizer? What did it smell like before the deodorizer?

Down the street is a Denny’s and a Cracker Barrel. It is often said that the prevalence of chain restaurants and hotels make all American cities homogeneous, but I’m not fooled. I know I’m not at home in Tucson. (For one thing, I don’t stay in hotels and eat at Cracker Barrel when I’m home.) Identical services across the country are a blessing and a curse. It’s of little comfort to me to know exactly how boring the room will be before I get to it. It’s of no interest to eat the same stuff I could get at a thousand other chain restaurant locations. I’m in Louisville — I want to taste it, smell it, feel it.

But not tonight. Today I have driven 522 miles, watched a whole lot of pine trees and concrete go by, and I can’t stand to drive another inch in search of somewhere more interesting to have dinner, especially not now during Louisville rush hour in the winter dark. I guess that’s what keeps the chains alive. They are convenient, and that’s the blessing.

Tonight I have to go out again, to pick up Brett at the airport. We’ll run down our action plan for the show, and then hit the convention center floor early tomorrow. I will bring my camera, so if there’s something interesting by Airstream on display, you’ll see it here first.