Jul 13 2010

Low concept camping

It is the blogger’s curse: When things are uninteresting it is difficult to inspire oneself to write, and when things are too interesting, you often can’t tell the full story. So it has been for me lately, and thus I hope you will forgive me for telling a highly edited version of recent life.

Suffice to say that TBM is no more. “Kryptonite” Eleanor flew into Phoenix and my alternate identity evaporated while I was standing at the security checkpoint waiting for her to arrive. (Still, TBM will be back in a couple of weeks when she departs again.) Because Eleanor was scheduled to arrive late in the evening, we took advantage of the off-season and booked a very nice resort hotel in Scottsdale for the weekend. In June and July you can pretty much have those places to yourself, at bargain prices. We snagged a 4-star hotel for about $70 per night, and trust me, it was posh.

I don’t know why people are so afraid of the desert heat. Everything is air conditioned, and even the outdoor bars and restaurants have misting systems cooling the air all the time. Sure, it was 110 degrees in the afternoon, but we didn’t notice most of the time. (Did I mention that we haven’t seen each other for three weeks?)

Besides, you can beat the heat by getting up early. Imagine if the Great White North were like that: a frigid 10 degrees F during most of the day, but every morning it warmed up to 70 degrees for a few hours, and the sun was always shining. How could you complain?

Even the pool was virtually vacant, with just a smattering of like-minded cheapskates taking advantage of the bargain rates. We stood in the shallows and talked for two hours while our fingers wrinkled up from the 90 degree water. (It would have been perfect except for that crazy wasp that landed on my neck. I brushed it off and the dumb thing stung my index finger. Fortunately, I’m not allergic.)

To keep the weekend exceptionally cheap, I brought a huge collapsible cooler along with snacks and drinks. We had to make daily trips to the hotel ice maker to fill gallon-sized ziplock plastic bags with ice, but that was a minor price to pay. I was hoping that someone would come along during one of my ice runs and ask what I was doing with three gallons of ice in plastic bags. Had an answer all ready to go: “We need it for the ice chest. Just took out someone’s kidney.” But again, there was hardly anyone in the hotel to ask me.

In a way, that cheap, low-concept weekend in the hotel was a warm-up for the travel we plan to do. There’s a two-week period between issues of the magazine in which my workload is traditionally light. Having just about wrapped up the Fall issue, I’m about to enter that period now (no coincidence with Eleanor’s travel plans) and we are going to take full advantage by traveling around Arizona as much as we can. We have no tow vehicle for the Caravel, so our trips will all involve tent camping. The living room floor is covered with all of the gear: tent, sleeping bags, sleeping pads, stove, lantern, Arizona Gazetteer, guide books, cooking equipment, headlamps, water purifier, etc. We just need to get the food organized and we’ll be ready to go.

Go where? We’re not really sure. We’ve got lots of ideas but no specific plans. The general plan is to wander into Arizona’s White Mountains region where there are several large national forests, and see what looks interesting. One advantage of tenting over RV’ing is that you can pitch it in a lot more places, particularly in the mountainous national forest lands of Arizona where many campgrounds are tiny and inaccessible to large vehicles. This is our chance to see the places that we wouldn’t go with either of the Airstreams, and the high-altitude spots that we would have to skip in the winter.

But most of all, this is a chance to get back to our travel roots, the type of footloose and utterly basic travel that we did in our first nine years together. Everything in a backpack, $24 worth of gas in the car, and no itinerary whatsoever. It won’t matter if it rains or shines, whether we see the Mogollon Rim or just the inside of a local deli, whether we come home on Sunday or Monday. We’re pretty much guaranteed a good time (or at least an adventure!) just by taking the effort to pack the bags and head out.

Jun 19 2010

Temporary Bachelor Man!

There’s a new superhero in town …

… a superhero for modern times …

He’s TBM! (Temporary Bachelor Man)

Superpowers include the ability to make manly fires, type 100 words per minute, and hike tall mountains slowly. Note the details of his costume: A torch symbolizing his ever-readiness to do “guy stuff”; Wrist protectors look cool and guard against Carpal Tunnel Syndrome; Yin-yang symbol indicates his constant quest to balance work and play; Sunglasses protect against desert sun (shade hat not shown); Khaki jeans hide dust and sand; Hiking boots protect feet on long trails; Belt with the symbol “T”.

Yes, this is what a superhero looks like at age 46. (Actually, his musculature and hairstyle are just slightly exaggerated.) If I don’t look like this in photos from Alumapalooza, because I normally hide in my secret identity as a mild-mannered magazine publisher.

Although I am separated from Eleanor and Emma, there is plenty of sunshine and heat to keep me energized, and lots of stuff to do. In fact, my “to do” list is so long I wonder if I’ll work through it before Eleanor arrives in 19 days (noooooo, I’m not counting). I have house stuff to do, light yard work, and tons of magazine work. I also have a new bike that is just begging to be ridden in the cool early mornings, so I’ll try to stay on Eastern Time and get up at 5 a.m. with the dawn. It’s reliably 69 or 70 degrees every morning, and stays cool until about 8 a.m., so the cycling is primo for early risers.

Tucson is just loaded with interesting things for a TBM to do. One great perk of being here is that we have Saguaro National Park just 15 minutes away. When we are traveling we always gravitate to the National Parks, so why not visit them when they are right in our front yard? Last night a volunteer was leading a night hike through the park, which is a relatively rare offering. A small group met in the Visitor Center and then walked down one of the popular loop trails as the sun set.

If you’ve never done a sunset hike in the Sonoran Desert, this might seem sort of crazy. After all, it was still 100 degrees at 7 p.m. last night, and all the critters come out at night (scorpions, snakes, gila monsters, bats, etc.) But that’s exactly what we were hoping for. Our group was equipped with water bottles and flashlights — even a few blacklights to spot scorpions, since they fluoresce under black light. Also, the views from Saguaro National Park at sunset are absolutely stunning. The Rincon Mountains turn pink, then purple as the sun goes down. The saguaros make fantastic silhouettes against the twilight glow. A sunset walk in the desert is one of the “must do” activities when you’re out here.

We heard fledgling elf owls calling to each other from their nests inside tall saguaro cactus. We saw numerous bats flitting over our heads. We saw a pair of Lesser Nighthawks chasing each other. We talked about the traces of ground squirrel activity, and packrat houses along the trail. The two-hour adventure went very quickly. It was a shame we didn’t spot any snakes and found only one scorpion, but it’s still early in the season. As the monsoon gears up in July and August, the tarantulas will start to get active, too. There are a lot of interesting creatures that live here, and believe it or not, it is rather rare to see them (except scorpions, which get into people’s houses in rural areas).

According the the weather service, it is going to get hot by Wednesday. Since our back porch thermometer indicated 104.7 yesterday, I am not sure how only Wednesday gets the designation of Hot, but perhaps the delineation is at 105 degrees. Those three-tenths of a degree might make all the difference. But the difference I’ll feel is probably in the overnight lows, rising to mid-70s. That means no more cool mornings to open the windows and chill the house.

In cases like this, TBM seeks higher ground. I’ve got a hike planned for Friday or Saturday, starting at about 5,400 feet and ending just below 10,000 feet. The “Sky Islands” of southern Arizona always provide a cool getaway when you need it.

But in the meantime, I’ve got to don my costume and grab my torch. It’s time for TBM to do manly errands around town. Adventure awaits!

Jun 18 2010

The Bachelor Zone

… episode #1

Imagine, if you will, a man, torn from his beloved family and Airstream and sent to a strange land where nothing is as it used to be. Food no longer magically appears on the table, ready to eat. Uninterrupted naps are possible at any time of day. Things left out, stay out. Working by day in one’s underwear, and venturing by night to the local art cinema, become the norm. You’ve entered … the Bachelor Zone.

I have never been separated from Eleanor and Emma for the length of time that now lies ahead of me. Three weeks of complete bachelor-hood is the program for June, as I live in the Tucson house while they spend the summer in New England. I will survive only by my own skills (and those of Eleanor’s via telephone link, more on that later). I will pace the house wondering why it’s so quiet. I will buy my own groceries. I may get to a level of loneliness experienced only by prison inmates on remote desert islands in French novels, and end up giving names to the cockroaches. But I will persevere, because this is all part of the grand adventure of Temporary Bachelor Man.

On Wednesday Eleanor and I drove down to Manchester NH for a night in a hotel, so that I could catch the 6:20 a.m. flight to Tucson this morning. It was cool and damp in Manchester, the way June has been consistently in the northeast this year. Two easy hops, and by 10 a.m. local time I was stepping out in the morning sunshine of Tucson, with the temperature at 86 degrees and rising rapidly toward 103. Even without the three hour time change, the change was disconcerting. I had left Manchester wearing warm socks and a fleece, feeling like mold was going to grow on my skin from the relentless humidity, amidst the gray industrial/commercial wilderness that is so common in the northeast. Back at home base, I had the strange sensation of having never left, because out here in the desert the seasons are subtle and things always seem to look approximately the same. It was just like the day we pulled the Airstream out, back in May, except hotter.

The house has survived well without us. A thin layer of dust covers everything outside, of course, since it hasn’t rained in a long time. Inside, a few plants died and there was the unfortunate discovery of three dirty plates in the dishwasher, but otherwise the house just seemed empty. (The food on the plates has baked on in the sealed environment of the dishwasher, and the smell is … unpleasant. Fortunately,Temporary Bachelor Man — TBM — knows how to turn on a dishwasher.)

Despite being seriously jet-lagged, I attacked my first task — groceries — almost immediately. Right off the bat I needed Eleanor’s guidance. She left the freezer packed full of pre-cooked dinners for me, but I had no idea of what the house might be missing for my other meals. As it turned out, the house had been mostly stripped of the really useful food items, e.g., those which can be prepared easily and quickly. All the good stuff was in the Airstream, 2000 miles away. We consulted on the phone for a few minutes (the first of many telephonic consultations), and with a short shopping list in hand, I headed off to the grocery store.

But let’s not get our priorities mixed up. A car left outdoors in Tucson quickly becomes unconscionably dusty. It wouldn’t do for TBM to be seen in a filthy car, so I hit the local car wash first. Once the car was appropriately shiny again, I felt it was safe to attempt the grocery store.

There are mostly two types of people in a Tucson grocery store on a 100 degree afternoon on a weekday: Moms, and old folks. And me. I felt a bit out of place, but then it wasn’t a comfortable geek-land like Best Buy. This was a place full of mysterious packaged items, none of which plugged into anything. I was definitely out of my element.

Although I had been in that particular store many times, it was still a battle to find the Bachelor Essentials, such as prepared guacamole and salsa. I never paid attention to where things were, before. Eleanor was not answering her phone at that time for some reason, so your hero was left to his own devices, but I maintained my composure and came out with everything I went in for … plus a few things that seemed critical to bachelorhood once I saw them on the shelves.

Ask Eleanor the definition of an “ingredient,” and she might mention examples like paprika, eggs, and butter. My view is that the ultimate bachelor ingredient is the “Spice Packet,” as mentioned on the side of a box. (“Empty contents of Spice Packet into bowl with 2 cups water and contents of box…”) Ah, the miraculous Spice Packet. It’s right up there with the amazing Sauce Packet used to complete the premium-type macaroni and cheese. Who knows what’s in it? It doesn’t matter, it’s darned convenient. When the Spice Packet is around, a pair of scissors are the only cooking implements needed.

My first cooking attempt went well, involving two microwaving experiences and one Spice Packet. Sure, it was easy, but it’s best to ease into new routines. I also made a salad, although “made” is sort of hyperbole when the process involves a pre-mixed tray of salad greens into which I sliced a couple of mushrooms.

Once these domesticities were completed, I realized two fatal mistakes: (1) No entertainment; (2) No ice cream. See, the house lacks a TV. When we are here in the winter, we watch movies on the laptops (streaming them over the Internet via Netflix or on DVD). We don’t have cable or satellite. If we want a larger screen, I unhook the Airstream’s TV and haul it in to the living room. But the DVDs and TV were still in the Airstream back in Vermont, and I had forgotten to remove the vacation hold on the house’s Internet. Mindless video entertainment is a staple of bachelorhood, but for one night I was happy to make an exception and continue re-reading “The Count of Monte Cristo” on the Kindle.

The ice cream problem was more solvable. There are three large grocery stores within 3 miles of the house. So I’m now set for the next hot quiet evening with Klondike bars and fruit pops, streaming Internet videos and, once the mail arrives, DVDs from Netflix. Already the house feels more bachelor-like. By the time Eleanor gets back here, I might have fully converted it …

Jun 15 2010

Notes from the camera

Quite often as we go, I use the camera as a notepad, snapping shots of things we see so that later when I’m writing the blog I’ll remember the little things that happened during the day. This works well except when I borrow Eleanor’s camera and then forget to download the photos that evening. By the time I remember, the blog has been written and the photos are obsolete.

But sometimes they are just a little too interesting to toss away. So today I present to you a little compendium of misplaced images from the past couple of weeks, as retrieved from Eleanor’s point-and-shoot digital camera today. These are the “little moments” that made up our days.

Item #1. You can still buy the wrong diesel fuel if you’re not careful. It is commonly believed that all diesel fuel now sold is the newer “Ultra-Low Sulphur Diesel,” (ULSD) which is required to protect the emissions systems of 2007 and later engines. In California that is true, but other parts of the country still have until this fall to switch over.

Putting the wrong fuel, confusingly named “Low Sulphur Diesel,” (LSD) in a late-model diesel such as ours can be an expensive mistake. We recently found the LSD stuff at a highway rest area along I-90 in New York. There’s always a label disclosing it, but you have to look closely.

Another tip-off: LSD is about 5-10 cents cheaper than the going price for ULSD, so it looks like a great deal, double-check that it’s the right stuff. This station didn’t sell ULSD, so we had to go elsewhere. Diesel owners beware!

Item #2: yogaFLIGHT can be good for your health. We were stressed out, sweaty, hungry, and grumpy after Day 2 of Alumapalooza. I had just spent most of the day parking trailers in the hot sun, between thunderstorms that threatened to send us all to the Land of Oz. And then slaDE insisted we go do their yogaFLIGHT deal, which was the last thing I wanted to do at that moment.

But then it occurred to me: what better test for yoga than to try it when you feel at your worst? So I emptied my pockets, took off my shoes, and let slaDE do his thing. Suddenly I was floating in the air, listening to his incredibly calming voice, feeling completely safe and wishing it wouldn’t end. Stress gone. I’ll be joining their yoga class next year when we do Alumapalooza again.

I am hoping we can cross paths later so that they can teach us their style of partner yoga in a private session. Maybe in Tucson this winter.

Item #3: Three genuises are better than one. This image demonstrates guys doing guy stuff. In this case, meticulously setting up a camera for a group shot outside The Spot To Eat diner in downtown Sidney, Ohio. slaDE offers useful advice, I scrutinize, and Sean does the positioning. It took less than five minutes for our combined Dream Team to set up this shot atop a newspaper box, without benefit of a tripod. Ladies, keep in mind how useful we are.

Item #4: Your GPS doesn’t know everything. I’ve mentioned in prior blogs how you can’t trust the GPS when towing — especially when you get close to state parks! Follow the official brown signs instead.

This shot shows our Garmin advising us to get back to Route 8 in the Adirondacks. According to it, we were wandering around in the forest somewhere.

Fortunately, we made it back to Route 8 quickly, as evidenced by our current speed. Note that the GPS has us traveling at 554 miles per hour. I don’t normally tow the Airstream that fast, but we were in a hurry.

Item #5: Eleanor continues to cook. No shocker here, but since she hasn’t done a video lately I thought you might want to know that we are still benefiting from Eleanor’s culinary treats. The latest is a rhubarb-raspberry bread pudding, seen here. Lou gave us a bunch of cut rhubarb from their patch last week. We used to have a rhubarb patch of our own, and have missed it over the years.

Normally she makes a rhubarb crisp or pie, but there wasn’t quite enough so she came up with the idea of a bread pudding. We happened to be in the Christmas Tree Shop over the weekend and Eleanor picked up a few things to make the pudding interesting. The rhubarb sauce was the kicker: pour it over the pudding and … well, I shouldn’t say too much because it’s too late for you to try ours. But trust me, it was a very successful experiment.

May 20 2010

Denver, CO

One of the very best things about owning an Airstream is that we can “live” in all of our favorite places without having to buy second homes, timeshares, or hotel rooms. As we’ve traveled the country we have found a number of places that we seem to be drawn to again and again. Without the Airstream, we just couldn’t afford to make the long visits to those places that we’ve become accustomed to.

Denver, our current stop, is one of those places. We have a remarkable number of friends in the area, including several regular contributors to Airstream Life. There’s a very active vintage Airstream community here. Recreational opportunities are excellent, the climate is mostly dry, and Colorado in general is a great state. Every year we spend a week or two here, and it costs us about $250 a week to live in the Airstream, conveniently located in Cherry Creek State Park, with all the comforts of home.

Another spot is in Vermont, where we have family. With courtesy parking, two months in our rolling condo costs us exactly $0. Florida is another. We spend a month in Florida every year or two, which costs us perhaps $800-1,000 for camping. (Compare that to a vacation rental.) And for that we get to camp on the beach in places like Fort Myers, Destin, and the Keys, plus Disney World’s Fort Wilderness campground and next to beautiful Florida freshwater springs in various state parks. You can’t beat it.

Over the years we’ve collected a lot of favorite places. I think discovering those places has been a big part of the joy of travel. The first visit to every special place has always been the most memorable. We go back mostly in hopes of feeling that joy again.

I have talked about all of our favorite spots in previous blog entries (mostly the Tour of America blog) but I haven’t compiled a formal list because everyone needs to find their own. Sometimes the aspect of a place that strikes us is something subtle that we can’t quite describe or quantify: a smell in the air, a small-town atmosphere, or a formative experience in an otherwise ordinary place. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is that we made a wonderful memory and if we go back we can add to the original moment. You’ll find yours, too.

This week we have been making the rounds of friends and places in Denver. Our major tourist moment was going to the Denver Mint on Tuesday. If you are hoping for free samples you will be disappointed, but you can buy a shiny gold-colored presidential dollar coin in the gift shop for the bargain price of … $1. Considering that we are talking about the Federal government here, that’s really not bad. No tax.

The tour is about 30 minutes and includes a peek at some of the heavy-duty industrial gear that is used to make coins. You don’t get to see too much, and photos are strictly prohibited, which is why you will see no photos here. Security is tight. An armed officer is positioned both behind and ahead of the tour group at all times, so there’s no possibility of wandering off on your own tour. You can’t bring in anything larger than a wallet. We went through a metal detector and they required me to remove the battery from my cell phone.

There are good exhibits, but the machinery is mostly hidden in the form of a series of large metal boxes that do mysterious things. Unless the conveyor belt is running, you can’t really tell what anything does from the mezzanine viewing area. You could just as easily be touring a cheese factory. Go for the exhibits and the tour guide’s interpretation, not to see big machines stamping out coins. By the way, the Denver Mint doesn’t make paper money. The word “Mint” in its name might have tipped you off, but a lot of people are surprised by this, so I thought I’d mention it.

After the Mint we checked out the state capitol building, just a short walk away. That meant another metal detector, but after that we were free to explore the architecture. Colorado’s capitol follows the usual rotunda-and-marble theme of most others. It’s fine, but Wisconsin’s capitol building in Madison is considerably more interesting for tourists. Not far away, across the park is a bizarre mishmash of architecture surrounding and including the Denver Art Museum. You have to see it to believe it. Downtown Denver is spectacular for architecture, and I could definitely take a few days to walk around and see it all.

Visiting local friends and being tourists on Tuesday has meant several meals out, so Eleanor has not had need or opportunity to make dinner for us since her video debut on Monday. Tonight she’s going out to see a friend without me, which is great for me since I’ll get to eat leftovers of Monday’s fantastic little stew. I think we’ll try to do another food video blog in a few days. This weekend we’ll be boondocking across Nebraska, which might result in some brutally honest “we just towed 400 miles and I don’t feel like cooking” moments. Will we just roll over and eat at Cracker Barrel, or will Eleanor get creative? Tune in to find out.