Working the dream life for 16+ years.
Rave reviews and personal rants about the best and worst products, places, and people living a full-time RVing nomadic lifestyle
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It was that funny RhodesTer guy who first turned us on to the whole Twitter thing. Though I must say, I was never really that turned on.
It was René who insisted we add the Twitter badge that shows what we’re doing at every instant.
I fought and stalled, but eventually conceded.
We compromised by placing yet another widget at the bottom of our sidebar. You see … Twitter is only good if you tweet.
Please allow me this brief moment to shout out to the entire world just how much I love my wife. Isn’t she beautiful?
Living together in a trailer on the road, it’s hard to surprise someone with anything. But since steel is the traditional gift for an 11-year anniversary, and Rene isn’t really into jewelry – the modern choice – perhaps I can steal her heart once again with a few heartfelt words.
I recently expressed concern to René about her dancing on the precipice at Black Canyon National Park. OK, she wasn’t dancing. But her scrambling made me nervous nonetheless.
In 1992, I’d just finished college, and in order to pay my student loans, I took a job as a receptionist at a big marketing firm. I was the lowest admin on the org chart, and it was an awful, demeaning experience. But little did I know that the skills I learned on that job would come in handy so many years later.
Here at Riverbend, we answer the phone when we aren’t giving tours, cleaning the pools or doing laundry. Although I do my best to sound cheery, I really hate picking up the phone; it just takes me back to that awful job. Many conversations are an exercise in Buddah-like patience, especially on busy weekends.
“Riverbend Hot Springs, how can I help you?”
I’ve had it with the whole TIPS ON PUMPING GAS email fraud. But enough people I respect sent me the famous GOOD INFO! message that I just had to look into it.
I was about to write about how I heard about not filling up when big trucks were filling much bigger tanks below the ground. But that was years ago. And an industry man told me way back then how the stations had filters to that took care of that. Now I’ve discovered the urban legend of tips on pumping gas to be mostly fraudulent.
I’ve determined that if I don’t write something short and quick with first impressions about new places we see, I never will.
There is so much to see and do on this journey – as I told a Canuck fulltimer yesterday – we could stay on the road for the rest of our lives and never see the entire country. And if I don’t jot down some basic observations about where we’ve been soon after we arrive, I will forget if there is any reason to return when the time comes to plant some roots again.
With that said, I go Pogo … we have made it to Okefenoke Swamp. And we have officially reached the South.
By the time I was about to write about dropping off my Powerbook at the Charlotte Apple Store for repairs, they had already called to say it was ready to be picked up. This came as a pleasant surprise considering they said it would take five to seven days to be fixed at the service center in Texas.
So our stay in Asheville – a few hours away, in the Smoky Mountain foothills – was cut a bit short, but the couple days we did have there was plenty to get a feel for the area.
This little wrench in the works also gave us time to realize we never care to live our lives along an interstate corridor. As we criss-crossed North Carolina, the incredible population density and mass consumption of this country became remarkably clear.
Jim discovers there is no Wawa store in Mawah, NJ.
Considering everything we can do with all the connectivity and communications technology of today, what’s really amazing is what we cannot. What happened to the last mile? Granted, escape is a great benefit of getting away. But one cannot expect to get away indefinitely unless totally self sufficient. Especially, if working from home means traveling full time. And why not? There is so much to see.
In other words, we must work, from the road. The biggest challenge of which is being connected. All the time. The defacto work week for the typical commuter is two days off, in a row, if you’re lucky. For those of us who commute from one line of sight to our satelite to the next, being cut off unexpectedly is a daily threat.
Entire idyllic communities like Humboldt county live in constant fear of losing their connection to the world. And they have high capacity fiber to the region. Well, one strand at least. My string is invisible and can be cut by any number of branches, including one.
The last couple of days of driving on New Jersey roads has been some of the most intense driving we’ve ever done.
L.A. traffic has nothing on this place. It’s a lot of narrow roads, fast street-level freeways with cars pulling into and out of driveways, and the most aggressive drivers outside of Manhattan. Jim’s hauling the rig like a seasoned pro, but I just grip the seat and clench my jaw. At least yesterday we got our own escort to get us out of New York.
We’ve actually been receiving some flack for our post about reasons to consider emigration to Canada. You won’t, however, see these flaming remarks here on the blog because, well, it is our blog and we don’t intend to give these so called patriots the time of day or glory of assuming their comments actually get to us.
So as mother always said, if you don’t have something nice to say… don’t bother because you’re just wasting your time with comments that get sent directly to the spam pile. After all this is indeed America as these right wing fascists so proudly declare, and we are proud to have the freedom of using our delete button.
While they call us “unamerican” [sic] and would gladly help us pack our bags, they’ve got us all wrong and are merely substantiating our beliefs about certain factions that continue to make this country a target for international enmity.
How appropriate that this has all occurred as we crossed the state with one of the best state mottos. While we enjoyed our stay in neighboring Vermont – “Freedom and Unity“ – New Hampshire’s “Live Free or Die“ is now our favorite state motto. Attributed to New Hampshire Revolutionary War Hero General John Stark
René asked me if I felt any more Candian now. Truth is, I have always felt part Canuck – though my home team would be the Maple Leafs – since I learned my mother was from Toronto and I went to the Snow Festival in Quebec as a child. After all, I am supposedly half French Canadian and half Scottish Irish. And one of my closest, dearest friends hails from Winnipeg eh. But I have to admit it felt good being Canadian at least for a day. Especially since that day happened to be September 11th.
It was actually nice to not be bombarded by the regular American media suspects forcing us to remember in vivid detail the tragic events of 2001, as they have every year for the past six. The only sign whatsoever that it was in fact 9/11 was a group of peaceful demonstrators in downtown Toronto proposing that the World Trade Center tragedy was an inside job. And personally, I was glad the morning paper didn’t carry a full page image of the burning towers that has been burned into my psyche the very day it happened.
Coverage of events at Ground Zero made it to page eighteen of Canada’s national newspaper. The front page was reserved for a 30th anniversary tribute to the beating death of Steven Biko by South African police. I found the story educational, enlightening, and touching. Perhaps it was buried deep in U.S. papers, I don’t know. But I doubt this important reminder of apartheid in the world made the front pages.
I just had to play Peter Gabriel’s “Biko” from Shaking the Tree
Mike’s comment on my recent post regarding campground etiquette for big rig RVers prompted me to finally compile the list of outrageous RV names that we’ve been jotting down since we embarked on this journey. Below is our top ten list of ironic RV names that we’ve come across. Please vote and let us know which names are the best. Or shall we say worst?
[ edit: survey widget no longer worky worky ]
If you said other, be sure to post a comment and let us know what you’ve seen. other names that didn’t quite make it onto our top ten list include:
Note: I say these names are ironic because I think its funny how recreational vehicles are supposed to enable people to get out and enjoy the peace and quite of nature and commune closer with our mother earth, yet the names imply otherwise.
For the record, the trees all over the hills around Deadwood, SD have always been dead. One can only assume that’s how the town got it name. But one thing I enjoy about this full-time RVing thing is how the view from our kitchen table is always different. and whenever I look up through the skylight in our shower – yeah, that’s cool too – …
Arizona’s canyon lands, painted dessert and red rock buttes are beautiful sights to be seen and appreciated. That being said, I am happy to say I can check that area off my list of potential places to plant permanent roots. I’ll never say never, but the heat and local societal attitude that I encountered – yes, first impressions do count in my book – throughout …
