Man In The Maze

by Rich Luhr, Editor of Airstream Life magazine

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The duck

The blog has been quiet lately because we are in that rather dull period between trips, commonly referred to as “daily life.”  It’s something I do my best to avoid but occasionally it does happen. It’s really true as they say that life is what happens while you’re making other plans.

This has been a period mostly for me to simply take care of business.  The Winter 2011 of Airstream Life magazine has been printed and was mailed this week, and meanwhile Spring 2012 is well underway with a lot of great articles in development.  I’m also working on a busy program of 2012 events, including Alumapalooza (June 2012), Modernism Week (February 2012), and an exciting new event to be held out west next summer.  We expect to have an announcement about that in January.

Of course, the Airstreams have not been neglected.  Before parking the Caravel in a secure off-site location, Eleanor and I replaced two more of the leaky water hoses and fixed another water leak at the tank fill.  It should be ready to go when we are.  The Safari remains in the carport, fully hooked up, cleaned up, and stocked with goodies for future “hotel” guests.

The most recent visitors, however, brought their own: Tiffani and Deke of the traveling blog “Weaselmouth.”  They were passing through last week, heading for California, and spent a night parked in front of the house.  Eleanor and I had met them at Alumapalooza last June, and I saw them again in Texas when I was picking up the Caravel, but they had never met Emma.  I’m not sure if my offer of free parking was really what enticed them here, since Tiffani did mention several times that she really wanted to meet Emma…  In any case, it was a superb visit and far too short.  We may cross paths with them again next year if we get up to Washington state, as I’ve been hoping to do.

Part of being home is a process of recovery.  We’ve proved we can live in the Airstream indefinitely but when circumstances place us back in the stationary house, we try to take full advantage of that by catching up on projects, relaxing, and saving up money.  The latter goal never works out as well as I’d like.  Living in a house is far more expensive than living “on the road” in an RV when you really factor everything in.  Being back at the house means activation of expensive projects, repairs, and tempting upgrades.

This time was no different: the house demanded a few things, and the local Tax Collector demanded the real estate taxes, and — whoosh — we were thousands of dollars poorer in an extraordinarily brief amount of time.  Worse, there was nothing tangible to show for it.  This always seems to be the pattern of home life, so after a few months we usually give up on the idea of “financial recovery” and move back into the Airstream for a reminder taste of the inexpensive alternative lifestyle it affords. Eleanor has often commented that if we hadn’t bought a house in 2007, and had simply remained in the Airstream full-timing, we’d be financially far better off, but you can’t re-make history.  And the house is something we all enjoy … in moderation.

In the interest of saving money we have resisted the call of Tucson’s many interesting restaurants, favoring meals at home.  This is no particular hardship, as anyone who has eaten Eleanor’s food can attest, and it often results in intriguing culinary experiences resulting from home experiments.  For example, last Saturday we really wanted to go out for Dim Sum, but we stayed home, collected the various ingredients we had in the house, and Eleanor whipped up “Dim Something.”  It was not what you’d call authentic but it was darned good.

This brings me to the subject of today’s essay.  You were probably wondering about the title, “The duck.” Thanksgiving is coming up soon but due to minor obligations on the calendar, we are going to celebrate it this weekend instead.  Bored with traditional turkey, after some discussion we opted to try cooking duck instead.  Or to be completely accurate, Eleanor will try preparing duck, and I will stand by as Advisor, Dishwasher, and Errand Boy as needed.

Normally I would expect this to be a minor footnote in our lives, but even today, days before the actual cooking event, it has become obvious that The Duck is going to be a formative experience.  It turns out that the culinary challenge is significant, even momentous, if you want to get it right.  There are tricky carnivorous issues of fat distribution and moisture content to confront.  Eleanor has pulled out an arsenal of references from her bookshelf and is sweating the details to the point that you’d think she was expecting the Queen of England to join us.  (I’m pretty sure that Thanksgiving is pretty low on the Queen’s list, along with Independence Day, so no danger there.)

Since things are quiet, I’m going to document The Story of The Duck this week, as it happens.  The first entry will go up tomorrow.  This is risky because we have no idea if the duck will be delicious or Daffy.  The gauntlet has been tossed down, and now she (and her two bumbling assistants) are committed to this meal.  Will we find sweet success or smoking disaster?  You’ll see.

 

Tree house in the carport

Our lives have been so centered on traveling with our Airstream that when we don’t have travels planned it’s sometimes a struggle to figure out what to do.  The blog goes quiet (you may have noticed) while we take care of the non-traveling part of life and find our footing.  Fortunately, the feeling of being adrift never lasts for long.

We arrived in Tucson less than three weeks ago and spent the first week just digging out from the piles of work that had accumulated while we were traveling.  Both Eleanor and I try to keep up with stuff, but there’s no doubt that traveling for short periods is actually harder than full-timing.  With a short trip there’s the temptation to let things slide while you rush around to make the most of the time you have away from home.  When full-timing, there’s rarely any time pressure, so we never minded pausing for a week or two to catch up on life.  The beach was still going to be there when we got the laundry done.

This last trip was different: it was loaded with obligations and tight schedules, and we were rushing to get back to Tucson.   But a week after we arrived, the bulk of the obligations were resolved and suddenly we were looking for things to do.  So we began talking and planning, and reaching out to friends.  In retrospect that might have been a little early for us.   I discovered that our friends Ingo and Ehiku were going to be coming through I-10 on their way to California, without their Airstream, so I invited them to spend a night in our Airstream, which is fully hooked up in the carport as always.  They accepted, and suddenly we were faced with a weekend of rapid cleanup, because the house and Airstream were both disaster areas.  Well, at least it forced us to get it done.  They came by on Sunday and shared a big bowl of bucatini with a meaty homemade sauce with us.

The next day after they were gone Eleanor and I went out to the carport, and spent a moment reveling in the coziness of our immobile Airstream now converted into a guest apartment.  She had set out little treats on the dinette, a selection of teas and coffee on the kitchen counter, and drinks in the refrigerator.   The air conditioning was keeping the interior at a comfortable and dry 78 degrees.  The beds were made with fresh sheets and everything had been cleaned.  “Why,” (we thought) “do we only let guests enjoy this space?”  The Airstream is at its best when it is parked in a beautiful place — and also in the carport at home. It has that wonderful secret getaway feelings of a kids’ tree house: no adults and no concerns allowed. (Girls are OK.)  We’ll have to spend some time there.

We will have the clubhouse for a while, because the Airstream is going to stay parked until at least Christmas.  But that’s not to say we’ll be stationary.  In the aftermath of our overnight visitors I began thinking about all of the things I want to do this winter … and that led to a big planning session that has consumed much of the week.

The first trip will start tomorrow.   I’m finally going to retrieve the 1968 Caravel from Texas, so we at least have a chance to use it in southern AZ or CA before the nights get too long and chilly (our brief “winter” in December and January).  In the interest of avoiding boredom on the Interstate, a few stops are planned s that it will be more than a straight-line trip.  In fact, the first stop will be Santa Fe, where I’m stopping to photograph a trailer for a future magazine article, and pick up a ’56 Bubble for a friend.

I don’t normally ferry trailers around but in this case it was sort of on my way and it seemed like an interesting challenge:  pick up a 55 year old trailer that hasn’t moved in a year and tow it 500 miles to a new home in Texas.  So many things can go wrong.   All I know about this trailer is that it has recently had the wheel bearings re-packed, and the tires date from 2004.  Typically when you find an unrestored old trailer you’ve got to be prepared for all sorts of problems.  Do the lights work?  I’ve had belly pans separate on the highway, dragging on the asphalt.  I’ve had brakes fail, and ball couplers rusted solid.  When Rob B was ferrying my 1953 Flying Cloud through New York a few years ago, the wheel bearings disintegrated and he had to ditch the trailer in someone’s front yard until parts arrived.  Last year I helped a buddy move a trailer out of Austin and the front end of the trailer had separated so much that the body literally bounced on the frame for 200 miles.  So I’ve got parts and tools for all sorts of problems, and I hope I don’t need any of them.

It would be easier not to do this job, but so many people have done it for me that I feel it’s time to pay it forward.  I’d like to think that moving a vintage trailer takes moxie and builds character.  But even if it doesn’t, it will be an interesting experience, and I’ll try to blog it as I go.

 

 

Life in the third dimension

Ever since my last encounter with John Long, a Bowlus owner who is also an accomplished photographer, I have been more curious about stereo or “3D” photography.  John is one of the acknowledged experts on the subject and showed me the beautiful portfolio of stereo images that decorates his home.

Now back in Tucson, I’ve started to play with 3D photography myself.  Composing a good stereo image is quite different from 2D photography, and it’s fun.  For practice purposes, I’ve been using “3D Camera,” which costs only a buck-ninety-nine.  The photo quality is limited by the iPhone camera, but for learning how to compose a good stereo image it’s quick and easy.

These images are all color anaglyphs, which means you’ll need a pair of those red-green glasses with paper frames.  If you’ve bought a DVD in the past couple of years that is in 3D, there’s probably a pair of those glasses in the DVD case.  If you don’t have a pair of those glasses, the image just looks blurry and crummy.  Click on the images to enlarge them.

This has been an interesting way to document the day.  The weather has been spectacular in Tucson lately, with every day in the mid 70s.  So we’ve been doing outdoor stuff and hitting the events of interest around town.  Today we dropped in on the Flandrau Science Center at the University of Arizona for an exhibit on “gas” (meaning elemental gases, not gasoline).  Sounds boring but it really wasn’t, since they kicked in plenty of neon. Above you can see Eleanor studying a neon sign through a spectroscope.

I’ve learned that shooting people is difficult to do well in stereo unless you have the type of camera that shoots two images at once.  With the iPhone I’m using the “cha cha” method, which means I shoot the left image, and then move the camera a few inches for the right image.  In between the shots, you don’t want anything to move.  As with HDR, still lifes are easier to shoot.

Downstairs in the Flandrau is a permanent exhibit on minerals, which Eleanor and Emma always love for the many fantastic examples.  For them, it’s like a prelude to the annual Tucson Gem Show.  One of the photos here is a display case from the Mineral Museum.

Our next stop was the Sonoran Glass Art Academy, where you can watch glass art being blown.  Emma made a pumpkin with the leadership of one of the staff.  It’s cooling in the kiln now, and we’ll pick it up in a few days.  The photo here shows some of the other pumpkins that have been made.

Once I feel I’ve gotten a handle on stereo composition, I’ll switch to the Nikon D90 and a stereo processing application on the Mac.  This will take longer, but the results should be much better.

I’m tempted to upload more 3D images as I get better at the technique, but I don’t want to freak out the blog readers who don’t have access to anaglyphic glasses.  So don’t expect more here.  At some point I’ll open up a Flickr album for the best shots made with the Nikon and reference that for those who are interested.

 

Getting Koozie at home

It’s always good to have an uneventful return to home base.  Our last day’s drive was notable only for the headwinds that dragged down our fuel economy (11.3 MPG for the trip, dreadful for this tow vehicle).  We stopped a few times to relax, swat a few flies that had hitched a ride in Texas, and make phone calls, and finally pulled into Tucson about 1 p.m. on Tuesday.

The early arrival was by design; we knew we had a lot to do.  For the past few weeks I’ve been letting some pieces of work slide just because I haven’t had time, and I’m overdue to get serious about projects in the pipeline.  Likewise, Eleanor had been mentally compiling a list of things to do once we arrived, and so we were both dreading the onslaught that would begin the moment we parked the Airstream.

Our neighbor Mike made re-entry a little nicer.  He planted “FOR SALE” signs in front of our house.  You gotta love neighbors who care about you enough to do something like that.  We all had a good laugh about it, but the next day found out that our neighbor Dottie, an elderly lady who is very sweet, thought the signs were real and was a bit upset about the possibility of us moving away.  We reassured her we weren’t planning to leave permanently and later Eleanor said, “Now Mike is on my list [for upsetting Dottie].” But I’m still sort of chuckling about Mike’s prank.

The first 24 hours back were brutal because our “to do” lists kept getting longer instead of shorter.  I reminded Eleanor and myself that we can’t let the magnitude of everything we need to do overwhelm us.  “Look at the next step, not the mountain.”  If we were full-timing, this would have been one of those weeks when we found a good spot to park and sit for five or six days while catching up on everything.  That’s actually nicer, because in that situation we would be somewhere fresh and interesting while we caught up.  It’s a drag to come home after a month-long trip and have a pile of work facing you.  But I’d rather be busy than not, and I do like my job — well, most of it.

Last night was one of those fun opportunities that comes with the job.  David Beaudette, a former HVAC contractor from Michigan, called me a few weeks ago to arrange a meeting when we got back.  He is selling a light-up drink holder called a “Koozielight,” and he’s a fan of Airstreams.  We met up late last night at El Guero Canelo (because hardly any restaurants are serving after 9 p.m. in Tucson on a weeknight) for a little Sonoran chow and a chat.

David and his business partner Scott Kusmirek drove down from Phoenix and we worked out a deal.  I think we’ll have Koozielights for everyone at Alumapalooza next year, which should be cool for all the Happy Hours under the awnings.  And yes, that’s a real tattoo on David’s arm.  He really believes in his product.

We aren’t even thinking about Airstream travel for a few weeks, at least.  But the Airstream is still in use.  We’ve got it all hooked up to water, sewer and electric.  Yesterday I was wiped out from too much work, and wandered out to the Airstream for a short break.  When it is parked in the carport I think it is at its most cozy state, because the brick walls of the carport muffle sounds from the area, and dim sunlight light to the interior, which invites napping.  The Airstream isn’t going anywhere, but it is still a great place to hang out.  It’s like a little private clubhouse.

It’s also a great guest room.  So part of the work Eleanor is doing right now involves cleaning out most of our stuff, doing all the laundry, and putting a few snacks and drinks in the refrigerator. Then our little carport motel will be open for business.  We may be the primary guests over the next few weeks, since we like going in there as much as anyone, and right now we aren’t being inundated by snow-crazed northerners looking for an escape.  In February, there may be a waiting list …

 

Rockhound State Park, Deming, NM

Once again I am compelled to start the blog with the phrase, WE ARE FINE.  Yesterday some large dust storms swept across I-10 between Tucson and Phoenix, resulting in several major accidents, deaths, and closure of the Interstate for hours.  We were 300 miles away at the time.  We are coming home from Texas, and so wouldn’t be traveling that section of road west of Tucson anyway.  These dust storms are a serious problem and I hope that some better safeguards can be put in place for travelers so that we never see such a horrible series of pileups again.

In contrast, we were in west Texas last night and enjoyed a very pleasant drive down the last of Texas Rt 180 to the El Paso area.  Normally I hate going through El Paso with the trailer, as traffic on I-10 can be hairy. This time we were well positioned to try the Rt 375 loop around El Paso through Ft Bliss and Franklin Mountain State Park. That turned out to be a great way to go, except for the grade up the Franklin Mountains on the section known as the “Woodrow Bean Transmountain Drive.”  The GL320 didn’t like that.  Most of the time it does very well but with 7,500 pounds of trailer attached it does tend to bog down on grades over 8%.  Like the diesel Mercedes of the 1970s, it will always get there — just not very quickly.

The best thing about this route is that it drops you off very close to Rudy’s.  This is the last stop for Texas barbecue heading west.  We picked up a couple of pounds of brisket since it freezes well, and a bit more to give to friends in Tucson who have been watching our house.  From there, it’s quick two hour drive across southern New Mexico to Deming, where we have parked at Rockhound State Park, a place we have visited before.

The same weather pattern that brought dust storms to Tucson sparked numerous thunderstorms sound of here.  The campground at Rockhound sits on an amphitheater-like slope which gave us a fantastic view of the lightning all evening.  We got rumbles and a few spatters of rain but otherwise it was just a clear balmy night with a show provided by nature.

Eleanor filled up the memory card of her camera taking pictures of the scene (as you can see here, using the bumper of the car as a platform), and trying to capture some of the lightning on video (unfortunately, not very successful).  It was that kind of photogenic night, but I didn’t take a single photo with the D90.  I just wanted to watch it all happen.

From here our next stop is home.  Work has been piling up on me the past few days, and Emma needs to get her orthodontic repair.  For the last few days I’ve had a list growing of things that need to be done in order to make a smooth transition back to home life, and more things that need doing once we are settled.

From prior years I know that the hardest part of coming off a long trip is the psychological aspect.  It’s jarring to suddenly be parked at home after weeks or months away.  Nowhere to go, nothing new to see, just the routine of suburbia.  It can be a little depressing after the sustained exultation of a new place every few days.

That’s why I develop lists and ideas of things I want to do once we get home.  Being busy upon arrival helps smooth the transition, and the list gives us all things to anticipate.  The season is becoming ideal for travel and exploration in southern Arizona, so we’ll definitely look for outdoor things to keep us busy.

The immediate tasks are less interesting.  When we leave the house I use USAA’s “store vehicle” feature on the cars we’ve left behind, which cuts our insurance premium by 60%.  Now that we’re coming back, I need to get online or make a quick call to restore coverage.  Likewise, I’ll call our DSL provider and remove the “vacation hold” on that service, set up a new mail forwarding schedule with St Brendan’s Isle so that our mail comes to the house weekly, and finally put the Verizon Wireless air card on hold since we won’t be using it for a few months.  These little tricks save us hundreds of dollars every time we go on a long trip (or come home), so it’s worth exploring what services you can suspend when you travel too.