We left Riverside County along I-15 under the threat of the Santa Ana winds.   A red flag warning was in effect, and out on the freeway the larger trucks were skittering across the painted lines when particularly heavy gusts struck them.   The Airstream was better behaved, but I was still glad to climb up and out of the valley toward Barstow.

At Baker we exited the interstate and headed north to Death Valley.   It’s a longish drive, and by the time we arrived at Furnace Creek (196 feet below sea level), it was dark. We missed the turn to Sunset Campground and had to wander around for a few minutes before we found it again.   The moon, while nearly full, had not yet risen over the Funeral Mountains, and without it, Death Valley can be a very dark place.

We found Bert Gildart riding around on a bicycle in the campground, chasing us.   He and Janie had seen us roving around, looking for the campground entrance, and Bert decided to attempt to guide us in.   They arrived earlier in the day after a narrow escape from Montana snowstorms, and were now settled in for a few days of bone-warming.

Sunset Campground is one of three in Furnace Creek area.   It’s enormous and so there are lots of spaces available.   $12, no hookups, water, bathrooms, and dump station on-site.   We are parked close enough to the water and dump that we can conveniently stay as long as we like.

About half the people here are using generators   for their electrical power, but we and the Gildarts have solar panels.  Bert augments his solar collection with a small generator, since his panels have about half the capacity of ours.  We are doing fine on solar alone, despite the low sun angle this time of year.  Using the catalytic heater instead of the furnace helps.

Since we are relying on solar, the first task of the next morning was to clean the panels.  Mine were filthy with caked-on dirt, which drastically impedes their ability to generate power.   Using Bert’s truck as a ladder, I climbed onto the roof and washed them off, and then Bert did the same on his Airstream.  He needed to see me walking around on the roof to be confident that you really can get on the roof of an Airstream (as long as you are careful).

We all came here with no agenda.   The Gildarts have been here many times, and in fact have written a book on Death Valley, so there’s nothing in this park they haven’t seen before.   They are here simply to warm up after weeks of 20-below temperatures in northern Montana.   We are here to see them and get some exercise on the trails of Death Valley in the comfortable winter season.

It is not hot.   The weather this week is pleasantly monotonous: highs in the 70s, lows in the upper 40s, and not a speck of cloud expected.   Chance of rain: 0%.   The hot weather for which Death Valley is famous arrives in April, when the average high is 90 degrees, and peaks in July when the average high is 115 degrees.   We were once here in June in the Airstream and survived three days with no air conditioning, but it was challenging.   This time of year the only challenge is the early sunset, which tends to curtail our activities, so we are getting up with the sun and returning to camp around 5 p.m.

This is also a very safe place to be, despite its reputation, especially this time of year.   The snakes and other creatures are largely inactive, and the number one cause of death here is the single-car rollover.   Because the roads are so wide open (speed limit 55-65 in many places) and there is no traffic, people tend to drive way too fast in their SUVs and Jeeps.   Then a curve comes up suddenly and — whoops! — off the road you go.   I think the early emigrants who passed through here and lost their lives due to harsh terrain, high heat, and lack of water would find it unbelievable that people are still killing themselves here simply by driving too fast.

Cell phones do not work here, and that makes it one of the last major western national parks in that category.   We don’t hear cute ringtones going off as we walk the trails.   There are usable cell phone signals at Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Zion, Bryce, and many other “remote” parks, but not here.   There is an enforced silence in that regard.   I wonder how long the park can hold out.

There is wifi, which is how this blog is reaching you.   The Visitor Center offers it (oddly enough, only from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m.) and it is also found at the nearby Death Valley Ranch, both for free.   In the mornings a small circle of laptop users forms near the General Store, lately wearing warm clothes and hats against the 50-degree chill that persists until 10 a.m. or so.

Our travels in the park have so far been to Badwater, Zabriskie Point, Mosaic Canyon, Stovepipe, and the sand dunes.   Traveling with Bert, an accomplished photographer, we tend to go places in the late afternoon when the sun is low and details of the desert begin to pop out.   Tiny tracks (kitfox, beetle, lizard, sidewinder), ripples in the dunes, colors on the surrounding mountains — all reach their peak of visibility when the sun is low.   I will post an album from Death Valley on Flickr as soon as possible, since the photos I am sharing here are only a tiny fraction of what we are seeing.

Coastal California in January is not half bad.   It’s not exactly beach weather every day, but it has been the past few days, and so that’s where we headed.   Up in Oceanside, 30 miles or so north of San Diego, there’s a county park called Guajome, and it is conveniently just a few miles east of the Oceanside beach and pier.  We pulled the Airstream up there and settled in for a couple of days.

On the way we dropped in on the newest Airstream dealer, Holland Motorhomes.   They are replacing the previous dealer, which went out of business recently.   They’ve got a few Airstreams on the lot, but they aren’t ready to provide service yet.   I think they were surprised to hear from us.

There was another Airstream owner parked just across from us in Guajome, but we were barely at the park long enough to socialize.   We chatted a bit and then headed out to do some shopping at a couple of local ethnic markets (Mexican and Phillipino).   Eleanor and Brett have been cooking up all kinds of different dinners lately. I’m just sitting back and eating whatever they make, so far with excellent results.   The only questionable item was a brutally hot but delicious guacamole they found in one of the markets.   It was painful to eat but we couldn’t stop because it was so good on fresh-from-the-bakery tortillas.

In downtown Oceanside there is a long beach and a long pier, ideal for photo practice.   Brett has a new Nikon D90 (the camera I want but haven’t yet bought) and so we decided to spend the day shooting pictures of the beach area and the surfers.   I’ll set up a photo album on Flickr with the best shots later.   Emma spent her time on the beach looking for shells, and rounded rocks to paint.   With wandering around town and hiking the beach, we ended up being out until sunset, and getting back to the Airstream just in time for another massive ethnic food-fest.

Lately I haven’t been talking about maintenance, but it has been on my mind.   A strange squeal started in the trailer brakes a few days ago, only when they are hot.   On the tow north from Oceanside on Sunday, we got a high-pressure alarm from the tire monitor, and pulled over in Temecula. (The tire monitor is set to alarm at 10 psi above the cold pressure.)   We felt the wheel and it was definitely hotter than the others, which usually means either a dragging brake or bad wheel bearings.   Given that our wheel bearings were re-packed only 1,000 miles earlier, and that this wheel’s entire brake assembly was recently replaced by an Airstream dealer —who shall not be named —at great expense, I suspected a brake problem.

So we walked the Old Town of  Temecula, to see what has changed in the 15 years since we were last here, and waited for the wheel to cool down. I can’t say much for the improvement of the Old Town.   I remember a quiet historic district mostly occupied by antique stores, but we found a typical tourist district filled with stuff and restaurants, motorcycles rumbling down the main street, all about retail.

I’ll spare the details, but the high-temperature tire did indeed turn out to be caused by a brake problem.   Somebody re-assembled the brake and failed to lubricate the caliper guide pin.   It was completely dry.  That meant the brake caliper wouldn’t release properly, which meant the disc brake pads would drag and generate heat.  Which it was doing for the past thousand miles or so … Fortunately, we caught it before the pad burned up and took the rotor with it.

Since were doing maintenance, we also took the opportunity to install a new vent fan in the forward location.   I’ve had a vent up there that has not been working out well for various reasons, and recently obtained a new Maxxair “Maxxfan 6200“.   So Brett climbed up on the roof, removed the old fan, and popped in the replacement.   It’s pretty cool.   Not only can we run it in the rain, but it has a very slick remote control, stainless steel hardware, a much faster open/close speed, and a better designed roof flange that seems less likely to develop leaks over time.   This is the first Maxxair I’ve owned but I’m fast becoming a, uh, fan of them.   We put a strip of adhesive velcro on the back of the remote and now it’s conveniently hanging on the bedroom wall.

Our next stop is Death Valley.   Before we head into a remote spot like that we try to get everything in order, so we’ve parked in Riverside County for a couple of days   We searched for and (hopefully) have fixed a small rain leak around the kitchen vent fan.   We also lubricated the stabilizers to eliminate an annoying squeak in them.   I took the Nissan into the local dealer for replacement of some worn-out bushings on the air bag compressor (part of the Nissan’s auto-leveling system).   Eleanor topped up our groceries, and I filled both propane tanks.

Our friends Terry and Marie have been visiting with us, so last night we piled everyone in the Airstream for dinner and movie night.   I took the opportunity to experiment further with the new ultra-wide-angle lens I bought in San Diego last week.   There are definitely a few tricks to getting good photos with it, and I am having fun learning how.   The photo below shows the incredible views it can reveal — just what I needed for shooting Airstream interiors.   It will come in handy in the next two weeks, when I will be shooting both Death Valley landscapes and new Airstreams in Las Vegas.

San Diego is one of our favorite cities, for the great year-round climate, the abundance of things to do, the Asian food & groceries, and the lovely scenery.   So although we planned just four nights here, it’s not much surprise that we decided to extend the stay to six nights.

We’ve been busy.  Each day I work a few hours, starting around 7 or 8 a.m., and then we head out in the afternoon to do the fun stuff.  On Monday we picked up Brett at the airport and immediately headed to a cluster of Asian restaurants and grocery stores on Convoy Street (north of Balboa) for lunch. Eleanor found two major Asian grocery stores and happily began hunting for specialties such as Vietnamese coffee, brown seaweed, and noodles.   We haven’t yet found an equivalent store in Tucson, so it was time to stock up.

In the afternoon we went to the Old Town district to roam around, and visit Bill at the historic Whaley House.   He was in one of his many alternate personalities, welcoming visitors to the house and telling the tale of its ghosts (among other things).   Having seen Bill as a plague doctor, a train conductor, a lighthouse keeper, and now a 19th century resident of San Diego, I begin to wonder …do I really know who he is?

On Tuesday our outing was to Balboa Park, which in my opinion is one of San Diego’s very best attractions.   The park includes several wonderful museums, fantastic architecture, beautiful landscaping, and lots of places for kids to play.   Being the first Tuesday of the month, the Reuben Fleet Science Museum was free, so we dropped in there. We also took in a relaxing late afternoon cup of   tea and mochi (a type of ice cream) at the Japanese tea garden.

Just before sunset we hopped over the bridge to Coronado Island to walk the beach near the famous Hotel Del Coronado.   This enormous wooden structure is one of the most gorgeous landmarks in America, and a great photographic subject. Parking at the hotel is outrageously expensive, but metered spaces are available just across the street. After dark, I got a few shots to add to my growing neon collection.

Wednesday I got buried by work and so we didn’t get out until mid-afternoon.  But we still found time to go to the North Park area and drop in on George’s Camera.   It’s one of those great full-service camera shops with lots of inventory that are nearly impossible to find today.  I finally bought a super wide-angle lens for photographing trailer interiors.   I got the newly-introduced Tamron 10-24mm f3.5, which I am now testing.   I’m not entirely convinced it was the right buy, but it may work out fine with some practice.

North Park is a lively shopping district with lots of cafes and neon, so after a coffee and dessert break (creme brulee for E&E&me, carrot cake for Brett) I added to my neon collection again.

If we could have stayed later, the picture would have been much more interesting.   But we had an appointment at 6 p.m. up in Encinitas, to join the Moonlight Beach Strummers for a uke jam at a local pizza place.

Our friend Tommy G was the guy who really got me started on the ukulele, almost exactly one year ago in Borrego Springs.   He pushed me hard for three days in the desert, and was a great encouragement.   So I’d been looking forward to seeing him again in Encinitas to show him how I’ve progressed. Playing with the group — mistakes and all — made me feel like I was on my way to becoming a real ukulele player.

The uke jam was, for me at least, a blast. I think Emma liked it too (she brought her uke also, but wasn’t up to speed to play along with most songs).  Eleanor and Brett tolerated it kindly from a table in the corner.  The turnout was light but still there were dozens of players attending.  A group of women danced the hula while a six-piece band led us all in playing Hawaiian tunes until 8:30.  We all wore our Hawaiian shirts and ate pizza, and played and listened. I wish I had a group like this in Tucson.  Maybe I’ll start one.

Thursday was our day for the famous San Diego Zoo, also located at Balboa Park.   This is a world-class place, worth a full day (and with a price tag to match).   This time of year the weather can turn from sunny and warm to foggy and cold in a very short time, which is precisely what happened to us.   Still, we stayed to nearly closing time and had a fabulous day.   Emma’s high point was being kissed by a sea lion.

On Friday we’ll be relocating to a county park further north.  We have no particular plan.  For the next few days we are going to wing it, with no itinerary until Monday.  This is one of the great aspects of traveling this way: we are free to roam without worries about hotels, rental cars, or airline schedules.  Our activities of the past week are perhaps not what people typically associate with “RV’ing” but that’s exactly the point of this blog.  RV travel is not just about “camping” but also about freedom.  We haven’t sung campfire songs or toasted marshmallows this week, but we’ve had a heck of a good time.

For those of you perched on the edge of your seat wondering how the brake situation worked out, rest easy.   Super Terry arrived and sprang into action, swiftly replaced the questionable actuator with a factory-fresh replacement, then bled the brakes and verified proper operation.   We celebrated with dinner in the trailer, and the second half of “Prince Caspian” on DVD.   It wasn’t a wild night boondocking in the desert but it was a fine one nonetheless.

In the morning we stopped off at the Borrego Springs hardware stores to buy some tie wraps for cleaning up some of the wiring, and while we were parked by the side of the road, Dirk spotted us and stopped by to meet Terry in person. Then Super Terry bade us farewell and zipped off to his headquarters, no doubt awaiting his next opportunity to do a good deed.

We had been forced to cancel our overnight plans in Campo CA, but since we had everything resolved by about 10 a.m., there was still time to drive about 70 miles down to see our friends Daisy and Don.   We last saw them on the north rim of the Grand Canyon in September, where they were working at the lodge.   Now they are volunteering at the Pacific Southwest Railway Museum, which is sort of a playground for railfans in a tiny unincorporated village by the border with Mexico.

Daisy and Don arranged to roll out the red carpet for us, which meant a personal guided tour of the historic railcars, lunch, and a ride on the train about 11 miles down to the very border.   The border happens to be midway through a rural tunnel, and is delineated by a white line.   There’s no gate at this tunnel (but there is one in the next tunnel), and nothing to suggest that this is an international border except for Border Patrol personnel lurking at road crossings nearby.

The museum is a strictly volunteer operation, and rather small, with one building containing a few gems of the collection, and many   other engines and cars lined up outside.   There’s a restoration shop and several interesting historic cars but not everything is open to the public.   Being rather off the beaten path, things were quiet when we came by, but that meant we had plenty of time to drift through the cars and talk before the train departed at 2:30.

From Campo to Bonita, the shortest route is Rt 94.   It is a constantly twisting and rolling adventure that would be much more fun in a little sportscar than in a giant SUV with an 8000-lb trailer strapped to it.   Still, the scenery is beautiful and even surprising at times, with views from 3000 feet altitude through valleys into Mexico.

This time of year the major limitation of climate is not temperature, but sunlight.   It’s hard to get to the destination by 5 p.m., when things start getting dark and backing into a strange campsite becomes a serious challenge.  But here we are, undented and with brakes that work, in the Mediterranean air of the San Diego area.  We will spend the next few days here, exploring and taking care of business.  As it turns out, we will have much to do.

We were all set to hit the road this morning.   Eleanor even commented on the fact that we had everyone ready, and the trailer all packed up, an hour before we had expected to leave.   The plan was to tow the trailer up to Julian (elev. 4000) and then down to the town of Campo, right on the border with Mexico.   Our friends Daisy and Don are there, volunteering at the San Diego Railroad Museum.   They promised us a train ride and dinner tonight.   Eleanor was bringing a Julian apple pie for dessert.

All of those plans are in the past tense now, because we’ve had an equipment failure.   I hitched up the trailer, including connecting the 7-way trailer plug, and   about five minutes later, the disc brake actuator spontaneously went on.

Normally, the only way the actuator could go on without the truck brakes being activated first would be if the emergency breakaway switch was activated or shorted.   I cycled the breakaway several times (pulling the pin in and out), but it had no effect.   I pulled the 7-way plug out to ensure that the truck’s brake controller wasn’t sending a false signal — no result.   I quickly tossed everything out of my bedroom closet to check the wiring in the region of the brake actuator, and it all looked good.   I wiggled wires.   Nothing.

With the actuator running full on, we had three problems.   (1) The trailer would not go anywhere.   The disc brakes are locked full on, which means we’d have about as much chance of towing it as we would trying to tow a beached whale.   (2) The actuator pump would probably eventually overheat or burn out.   (3)   The power draw of the unit (about 20 amps DC) would quickly drain our batteries.   We solved the third problem by plugging the Airstream into the campsite power again.

Finally, with no other choices, I got out the wire cutters and began snipping wires.   It was like trying to defuse a bomb.   Cut the right wire, and the problem ends.   Cut the wrong wire and you’re just wasting time.     Eleanor stood by to assist.   “Headlamp!”   “Check!”   “Hand me the cutters!”   First I cut the breakaway controller wire to verify it wasn’t shorted out.   That had no result, so I went into the closet again and cut the blue wire running to the actuator. The blue wire carries the signal from the truck’s brake controller.   I figured we might have a bad 7-way plug, but snipping the blue wire also had no result.   Then I cut the 12-gauge black wire (12vDC +) and finally the actuator shut off.

So the immediate problem is solved, but of course we have no brakes.   Towing up the Banner Grade to Julian is clearly out of the question.   We are in Borrego Springs, CA, a town with no RV services and very little else.   The nearest real service is 50 miles away in Brawley, or 70 miles away in Coachella (Palm Springs area).

If we were really in a pinch I’d probably tow up to Coachella since the road is mostly flat and not particularly crowded.   But we have an ace in the hole, or rather, an ace mechanic.   We have “Super Terry,” who is working up in Corona, CA at Inland RV.   Super Terry (formerly just known as Terry, but I needed to differentiate him from Tucson Terry)   has — miracle of miracles — a brand new Kodiak disc brake actuator sitting on the shelf.

He is now and forever known as Super Terry because upon hearing of our plight, he immediately volunteered to drive   the 109 miles from Corona down to us with a truck loaded with tools and equipment, and replace the brake controller right here.   Now that’s a friend.

We are due to leave the state park today at noon.   We could ask for an extension, but part of the work will be to bleed the brakes, and I doubt the park rangers would find that an acceptable practice.   So we are going to tow the Airstream about five miles over to a boondocking site known as “Pegleg” and do the work there.

As with all of our on-the-road disasters, we will make the best of it.   So let’s count our blessings:   We’ll get another night in the lovely desert.   We’ll get to have our friend Terry over for lunch, and dinner, and breakfast (he’ll be staying the night for sure).   We are going to get a very convenient repair to what could have been a thorny problem.   And, out of sheer pity perhaps, Bill has given me a gift of Jake Shimabukuro’s album “Gently Weeps.”   So we’ve got new music to enjoy tonight while we boondock under the stars.

I’ll post an update after we get the work done.