I’ve known about boondocking—camping in places with no utilities or amenities—since before I got on the road. (This is not to be confused with parking lot surfing in Walmart or other lots, which is known as “dry camping.”) I was aware that the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) stewards bazillions of acres of taxpayer-owned public land, opening up much of it for free dispersed camping to anyone who wants to use it, as long as they don’t overstay the 14-day limit or trash the place. I’d even seen signs for Long Term Visitor Areas (LTVAs) when I stayed on BLM lands in Quartzsite, Arizona—the Mecca of nomad life. But it wasn’t till a few years ago that I learned what those LTVAs were all about. And when I did, I realized I’d discovered what was likely the place with the cheapest rent in America, available seven months of every year!
I had never heard of Reflectix®before I became a nomad, though I had—as most of you likely have—seen it before. The most common way to be introduced to it is to see one of those shiny, metallic-looking, lightweight accordion-style windshield sun shades. In fact, I’d owned a couple of these when I learned that the material out of which they’re made is called Reflectix.
The general consensus of our little group about “Nomadland” was that, although it did accurately depict many real facets of full time nomad life—and it was admittedly fun to see in a Hollywood production real people we all know and have interacted with—the movie was overall depressing AF, and seemed to choose to focus on the negative aspects, while almost completely leaving out the joyous ones.
No way did I want to deal with a fire or get that blasted blade stuck in there. So I reversed the drill and backed it out, stopping to consider my options. I’d originally chosen that blade so I would have a bit of maneuvering room for my fingers in pushing the wires through the insulation. But that was solely for my convenience, and wasn’t completely necessary. All that was really important was that the wires got through.
I love watching clouds, especially building storm clouds. They’re so pretty and visually dramatic. But I don’t really love seeing them when I know that right underneath, I need to be sitting ten feet up on an RV roof, ripping out an old vent, leaving a big hole, and having to get the new one dropped in, fastened, and the seams sealed before anything starts dropping out of those clouds!
One of the things I hadn’t really thought about before I got on the road full time was how much time I would have to spend planning driving routes. Realizing these issues, I quickly got on board with using online tools and mobile apps to help me plan my routes.
What really matters in choosing a travel trailer and what isn’t so critical. Of course, everyone’s needs vary, and even those can change once you get on the road. But there are certain considerations every trailer dweller must attend to.
There is also the possibility that I will instead get a larger Class C motorhome and put a rack on the back to carry a motor scooter or electric bike. That would give me the ability to run around to do errands or go visit nearby attractions without having to break camp, and without the cost of insuring a tow vehicle.
This year, I’m just not in the Halloween spirit, spooky or otherwise. All I can think about is that it’s only been 16 days since I woke up and heard Idgie making noises that told me she was in severe pain, and I knew as I left with her for the emergency vet at 5:30 am that she wouldn’t be coming home with me.
Few will argue that a blazing campfire at the end of the day really makes it cozy and fun. But one place no one wants to deal with fire is INSIDE your rig. Regardless what size or type RV you live in, and for however long/often, fire is one element you want to stay far away from…at least the open, uncontrolled kind.