Our plan for Monday (the 28th) was to ride the 100 miles to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon and ride back to the Mt. Carmel RV Park (which we loved). But there was a wind advisory for Utah and Arizona until nearly midnight, 30-40 mph winds with up to 50mph gusts. We’ve been riding in the cold and enjoying it as our heated gear works incredibly well. But nothing fixes 50 mph winds.
We decided to wait another day for the North Rim and moseyed out of our favorite campsite into the big city of Kanab, stocking up on groceries and visiting the hardware store. David bought a sheet of plywood for the camper; it has two twin sized beds in the back. This obviously does not work for us. The first few nights we owned it, we slept in the bed over the front seats, which is a queen size. But there were some problems. First, I was wedged between the mildewy curtains and under the sloping ceiling, without a way out if I woke up before David. Also, I woke up the second morning to water dripping at my head. The camper had a leak. So, we decided to sleep solo until David could build us a bed. The way we’ve been sleeping is just like TV shows from the 50s. I thought we’d be married at least three months before I kicked him out of the bed… Anyway, it’s still better than the tent (for reasons that I will explain in a bit if explanation is needed).
I helped David and the lumber guy get the piece of wood in the camper and off we drove. Our plan for the night was a $5 campsite at a BLM campground. If you pull off the road on BLM land, you can camp for free, but this nine site campground has two outhouses, picnic tables and fire pits, so I guess with all those fine amenities, the $5 should be expected. Our RV goal is to camp for free as often as possible to attempt to offset some of the gas costs. But David pointed out that BLM camping on the side of the road in desolate places without anyone else nearby might not be the safest decision. At least at Walmart, he pointed out, there are people around. What kind of people, hm… But we decided to tiptoe our way into BLM camping.
There was a tent set up across from the site where we parked the rig. Surprising considering it’s been below freezing at night, but no untypical for this area. I wouldn’t like to camp in subzero temps, but we only have 20 degree sleeping bags, I wonder how much longer we could have made it in the tent with some -30 degree bags. Probably not more than a few weeks, as we’d still be cooking in the freezing dark at a picnic table for breakfast and dinner.
After he parked for the night, David looked at the wood he bought for the bed. I looked at the floor I had just vacuumed that morning, covered in splinters of wood. And then David realized the board was too big. Both too long to fit in the back bedroom and too long to lay flat across the camper. So we spent the night and next morning maneuvering around a massive piece of wood. Good thing we’re used to living in a tent because it really cut back on our livable space.
(Completely unrelated, I sometimes read articles at home-themed websites and a few weeks ago houzz.com had an article championing two folks that lived in a tiny house of under 200 square feet. I read the article and wondered why these two seemed like such heroes— when people all over the world live in tiny spaces. Poor people. No one is praising them for their environmental savvy and space saving techniques. The tiny house movement has a big time subculture following. And I used to think it was cool, now I can’t help but feel it’s elitist/classist. No one is writing articles about us, two hoboes living in a tiny space like gypsies and saying how wonderful it is… except us of course!)
David started getting caught up on his notes for the blog and I worked more on sewing new curtains for the bed above cab— the curtains up there were originals. And they contribute to the name I gave the bed, the mold hole. Last week I sewed curtains for the side windows, today I started working on the front window, which could take a while for a few reasons:
-I’m not a good seamstress. I took one quarter of home-ec in eighth grade and that’s the total of my sewing knowledge.
-We have no scissors. Unless the broken scissors on David’s ghetto swiss army knife counts.
-The window runs the whole width of the cab, like 90 inches or so.
-The materials and thread and sewing needle were left in the camper by the hippie Israelies. Not the highest quality fabric and it’s a mystery why they had it. The fabric is white, slightly sheer and very elasticy. Also cut up in weird places. And there’s a lot of it. But free, homemade curtains are better than moldy ones.
As we worked it didn’t seem that windy, but clouds began building up in the sky and it started to rain. We both stated our overused but heartfelt phrase: thank god we’re not in the tent! Then it started to hail. As I cooked dinner, drops of rain dripped on the chair where David typed his notes. Because this new spot was leaking, he checked the mold hole and that was also dripping— in new and old places. He did a quick check of the rest of the camper and then went up to the roof and brushed the water off. He did this again, but the second time the rain froze in sheets on the roof and I asked him stop going on the roof for the night. We placed buckets under the drips (it was like being a pioneer!) and ate dinner. Then we got ready for bed. We moved the huge board of wood as much into the living space as possible and I checked my bed to make sure there were no wild animals under the covers (I do this every night). The bed was wild animal free, but wet. I called David over, and we tried to dry off the bed enough to sleep on; his bed was also wet, but less so. I shimmied as far away from the wet as possible, zipped my sleeping bag up so I looked like a mummy, put the comforter over my head and fell asleep.
At some point in the night as half asleep I tried to stay as far away from the window as possible without falling off the edge of the bed, the rain stopped. What a relief. No pitter pat of rain drops and drips ruining the roof of our tiny home. What I didn’t realize was the rain stopped because the temperature dropped and it was snowing. When we woke up and said good morning from across the bedroom it was so cold we could see our breath.
The North Rim is 2,000 feet higher than where we camped. How do I break David’s heart and explain that this plan sucks?
(One hour later):
Oh what a relief— he knows it’s a stupid idea to ride on the bike to North Rim! We talk through our options for the next few days over coffee and David decides that we’re getting the hell out of the elevation. He decides this so quickly that as I wash the dishes from breakfast he’s packing stuff away, checking the trailer and asking when I’ll be ready to leave. He’s so intense that I have no time to change out of my pajamas, I just swap my sweats for jeans and he’s got the rig crossing over the cattle guards before I can brush my teeth. There’s one benefit of living in your car— quick getaways!
So like pioneers running away from Native Americans (whose land we stole), we boogey into town and steal some wifi from McDonalds. David brings his wood back to the lumber place and gets it re-cut in a way that makes sense and we head toward Lake Powell and Glen Canyon. I found a cheap campground there where you can pull up to the beach for the night. Of course, when we get there the water there is shut off. So it’s camping at our old friend’s again.
After some detours (dam detours) we pull into Walmart. So two nights of camping= $5. Good for us. I start working on my curtains and David builds the bed. Much applause was had! We pushed the twin mattresses together, went into Wally World and bought a solid enough queen sized mattress pad to even out the beds. Viola! Married people sleeping together. David keeps saying he’s so excited to steal my body heat. The truth is that there’s one comforter and I took it, so he’s been using blankets that don’t keep him warm enough in the snowy climates. He doesn’t care about cuddling or whatever else the execs from 50s TV shows worried about suggesting if couples slept in one bed. He just wants me for my body heat. If it keeps snowing while we sleep, the feeling will be mutual.
Dave and Lauren's adventure ride 