New Digs

I'm spending a whole day in my new shop today, although it doesn't feel like it's mine yet. It's all falling into place, but slowly. Today, it was just me and my dog, and I had the chance to catch up on things I haven't been able to catch up on. The weekend was a blur, but it ain't bad. Just moving right along.

Over My Head? Or Just Right

Last week, I put my foot in the door at a trophy shop. I'm going to buy it. We will see how things go. I'm excited to do something my way. 

New Beginnings

I got home yesterday from Alaska. We got in line for the ferry around noon on Wednesday and walked in the door around 6:30 yesterday. All added up, that was 76½ hours and 2,035 miles of travel. Pretty crazy to think about, especially when you consider I did the boat with 3 and the drive with 2 kids. They got along the whole time, though, and all vehicles involved performed flawlessly.

The Ending Is Incredible

The past couple weeks have been insanely beautiful. No rain, beach parties, shooting guns, dirt biking, camping, sea kayaking, swimming, crabbing, whales, all the best stuff. I'm beyond thankful. It's been an amazing experience, and I'm so fucking humbled by it all. The kids will remember this for the rest of their lives, I'm sure.

Outside

This past week or so, the Summer of Bummer has been a little more gracious. Sunshine. No rain. It's been awesome. We went camping all weekend. The kids got to kayak on the ocean. They saw eagles and seals and crabs and salmon. We laughed with friends, and they played in the forest. It was beautiful, and I'm humble and grateful.

You Bow To No One

My son and I finished the Lord of the Rings movies, and holy shit, we wept. They're beautiful movies, and I appreciate them, but they will get you so hard.

It's been beautiful up here in Alaska, and we are coming out of the illness and the struggle and trying to set up these last two weeks for some incredible times. Hopefully we can adventure a little bit before we head back down south, but even that will be an adventure. We shall see how it goes, but I'm really fucking excited.

Independence Day or Empire Day

This Independence Day has a different connotation than it used to. Here is a transcript from the end of the second season of Andor:

My name is Marva Carassi Andor. I'm honored to stand before you. I'm honored to be a Daughter of Ferrix, and honored to be worthy of the stone. Strange, I feel as if I can see you. I was six, I think, first time I touched a funerary stone, heard our music, felt our history, holding my sister's hand as we walked all the way from Fountain Square. Where you stand now, I've been more times than I can remember. I always wanted to be lifted. I was always eager, always waiting to be inspired. I remember every time it happened, every time the dead lifted me with their truth. And now I'm dead, and I yearn to lift you, not because I want to shine or even be remembered. It's because I want you to go on. I want Ferrix to continue. In my waning hours, that's what comforts me most. But I fear for you. We've been sleeping. We've had each other, and Ferrix, our work, our days. We had each other, and they left us alone. We kept the trade lanes open, and they left us alone. We took their money and ignored them, we kept their engines churning, and the moment they pulled away, we forgot them. Because we had each other. We had Ferrix. Yet we were sleeping. I've been sleeping, and I've been turning away from the truth I wanted not to face. There is a wound that won't heal at the center of the galaxy. There is a darkness reaching like rust into everything around us. We let it grow, and now it's here. It's here and it's not visiting anymore. It wants to stay. The Empire is a disease that thrives in darkness. It is never more alive than when we sleep. It's easy for the dead to tell you to fight, and maybe it's true, maybe fighting is useless. Perhaps it's too late, but I'll tell you this: if I could do it again, I'd wake up early and be fighting these bastards from the start. Fight the Empire!

Bronchitis

This past week has been hellish. I haven't done anything except feel like I wanna die, thanks to this nasty strain of bronchitis. It sucked. I'm feeling better now, not perfect, but I'm clawing out of the hole I've been in for 8 days now. I don't know where I got it, but it's okay. I'm gonna be fine. I always figure shit out.

La Vita E Bella

I don't know where to start. My birthday, maybe. It's usually a reminder of the fact that I'm closer to the end of my life than the beginning. This year, though, we packed in so many fun things around it, it was hard to get out of the present, and it was glorious. The future is anxiety, and the past is depressing. But in the present, there is kayaking, there is laughter and jokes and hugs, there's joys and shared sorrows and I love all of it. I'm humbled to have become a part of this little place. It's beautiful.

Almost Full Circle

My Old Man is getting so old it's hard to stand. He is having trouble walking. Eating but not standing. Next couple of days will be crucial.

Waxings

The past two months have been an incredible experience.  I'm thankful that I've been able to explore the van life once more, as a seasoned vet.  I've found beautiful places to park, and I've been reminded about what I love (and hate) about this lifestyle.  I missed the freedom to explore whatever I want, whenever I want.  I missed the low overhead.  But now I miss access to a shower whenever I want, or a bathroom that doesn't take planning.  I miss having the ability to charge all of my devices.  I miss the companionship of people in the house.  I miss the disruption of my solitude.

The past few weekends have been incredible.  I've gone everywhere from Settler's Cove and Lunch Creek to Coast Guard Beach and then up to Harriet Hunt, Perseverance Lake, and into the quaint little town that has become my home more than any place in Colorado.  Here I am recognized, and I have friends.  Here, people say hello when I walk down the street.  It's not like Salida.  My parents haven't called me once since I've been here.  I haven't heard from my brother at all, save one text.  I am apparently an outcast.  It's fine.  I have friends here who haven't let that happen yet.  The best part is that, here in Ketchikan, Dash is royalty.  People fight over who gets to watch him in my absence.  I'm pretty sure when he dies, I'm going to have to put an obituary in the paper here.

Memorial Day.  Remember those that died for this moment.

The Moot Points

I'm pretty sure that needs to be the name of a band somewhere. 

Anyway, I'm calling my posts that because I've been posting like crazy, but when I try to post a picture with these rants, Blogger decides they don't need to be seen at all. It's disappointing, as I've taken hundreds of pictures in the last 45 days or so. Terribly frustrating.

At any rate, van living in my 40s has been educational. For example, not having a van with a high roof is not optional. Doing everything either on my knees or hunched over is tiring and demotivating. It works, and the price is right, but not a long term solution.

I've also learned that the little Buddy heater, the one that screws on top of a little propane canister, is awesome and can run with only two windows cracked. It's really nice when the temperature dips into the 30s. If you let it run all night, you'll use about a whole canister. Plan on that.

Also, plan your bathroom. I'm a guy, so number 1 is easy. I try to pick spots to camp where I can have a short walk to some privacy or, in the middle of the night, just a short walk in general. For more dedicated morning constitutionals, I try to camp near free public toilets, like pit toilets at parks and campgrounds and day use areas. I have a big ziplock bag with a roll of good toilet paper and a pack of dude wipes. I started using that when I left Colorado at pretty much every rest stop I needed, and boy, was I thankful. I also have a big pee jug, but I don't use it. I think if I were a woman or anyone that has not-standing-friendly plumbing, I would invest in a porta-potty- not the bucket and bag type, but the cassette toilet with the chemicals and black water tank you can dump at any RV park.

I've got a two cooler system going. One is a seat, part of my bed, and a dry foods storage locker. Crackers, bread, raisins, jerky, chips, instant coffee, and cookies live in here. Then I have my cold storage, which holds a full bag of ice, coffee creamer, and a few different juices. This really is just so I can have coffee creamer, because I'm an insufferable prick if I don't get my morning coffee.

I go through about a gallon of water every day. I drink about a quart, make coffee, brush my teeth, wash my coffee stuff, and keep my dogs water bowl full. It doesn't quite use a whole gallon, but I've been trying to keep a full unopened jug at all times just in case.

I've found that the parking brake turns the running lights off, which is nice if I need to idle the van and don't want to be obnoxious, although that doesn't really happen often. Only when I run out of propane, honestly, which has only happened once.

Beyond all that, make sure that whatever you're sleeping on is comfy. If you can't sleep safely and soundly, you're going to have a truly miserable experience. I have an air mattress that I keep on my seats in the back, which I've taken out of their normal spots and put facing each other. It's given me storage underneath, but I've had to stuff things under one side to keep it level, which is fine. I've also got scented wood wick candles turn burn at night, both for a night light, for helping the old dog smell, and for making a nice crackle sound while I sleep. 

That's all I got. I want to post pictures and stuff, but someday. We will get there someday.

Catching Itches

Today, I made the 5 mile out and back trek to Perseverance Lake. It was a beautiful hike, absolutely stunning. Lush and green with no shortage of forest to climb through. I was on the trail by 7, and saw one other person on before I got back to the van at 9:15. It was incredible.

Who Says You Can't Go Home?

The M/V Columbia pulled into Ketchikan at about 0800. I went to check on Dash, and of course, he was just fine.  He's 15 now, so any excuse he has to just relax, he's all about.  The ferry provided him with almost 36 straight hours.

We got off the boat, and I took him to the beach.  He remembered the smell I think.  His tail was wagging, and he limped his way down to the waterside, sniffing the air, sniffing the dirt, smiling.  Yes, smiling. Dogs do smile, and you can tell.

We've been here for about a week now, and it's been bittersweet.  I am remembering the early times when I bought a van to live in, when this was a huge Hail Mary, coming up here.

It was a Hail Mary this time, too, but it was slightly more thought out.  This is now the backup plan incase the rest of society falls into an Imperial mindset.  I don't know.  It's all scary.

Say Goodbye to Hollywood

Here's the original BattleWagon. This was the BattleWagon before the BattleWagon.  This beast has been from Salida, Colorado, to Washington state, California, West Virginia, and Minnesota, and all of the states in between.  It's been to Zion, Bryce Canyon, The Grand Canyon, the Black Canyon, the Petrified Forest... and it's taken hundreds of people inside it's old body to places physical and spiritual.

This is my 1988 Chevrolet 1-ton Bonaventure model van.  It was my dad's. It's old, and it's finally to a point where I can't justify hanging on to it.  It's time to say goodbye.

Monday Afternoon in Preparation

    It's been a crazy week or two here in the Upper Arkansas River Valley.  Preparations are being made, tickets have been ordered, and appointments are now being rushed into position, as we make way to take V, the BattleWagon, to Ketchikan, Alaska, after 10 long years.   

Moving Right Along

The state of things is like a story arc in Doctor Who.  It's weebly-wobbly, timey-wimey, and complicated.  Let's break it down:

The big news is that the ticket has been booked, officially, for a northbound trip on the M/V Columbia.  March 28th is the big day.  It will be myself, Dash the WunderHund, and V, the big, red van, full of camping gear for the chillins when they show up for the summertime justice.

Otherwise, the new house is clean, fixed up, safe, and warm.  Dolly, my wife's car, has legal taillights now (finally) and a door handle that she can use to get out without rolling down the window.  Kids are busy in school, living dreams and whatnot.

Things in Washington seem to be careening towards.... something?  I don't know, but I don't like the way it feels.  I wanna bug out.  We'll see where life takes me.

Imminent Homecoming

Last November, I went back to Ketchikan, Alaska, a small town where I had spent almost 5 of the best years of my life. I had an amazing job, amazing co-workers, and I met my wife there. I lived on a sailboat. When I visited, I saw my friends, and we picked up right where we left off. I started making plans. 

As it stands now, I have about a month and change left here in Colorado. I'm looking forward to having a support system again, to having people around that I can depend on, that aren't lying to me or misleading me or forgetting about me or detached because of the wealth gap. I'm going to a place that still has the right to call itself a community. And I'm excited.

State of the 'Wagon 2025

I wanted to wait until the normal rigumroll of making vows and resolutions for the new year had subsided before unwrapping my mental 2024 and jumping in to 2025.

Last year, I learned a few things.  On one side, I learned to let some things go.  There are things that we simply cannot change.  No matter how hard we try, the universe just won't let us have the W.  That's okay.  That's part of life.  Learn to let things to.  Learn to realize when you're the only one carrying the baggage, and put them down.

I also learned to hold the line.  It's important to have your boundaries, to protect your head from everyone, including your family and friends.  Sometimes they're the worst! But that's what makes them family.  It's okay to draw a firm line on things you don't feel comfortable with.  It's okay to stand up for yourself.

Going into this next year, I'm hoping to temper some kindness and understanding into both of those lessons.  I am trying not to judge people from where I see them, but to understand them from where they are.  It's not going to be easy, but those are my goals.  Simple enough, yet incredibly difficult, as is my tradition.

V, the newest van, is running like a top, though!  I just had the oil changed, and I'm hoping to get the tires rotated soon.  She is a joy to drive, and the 305 gets way better mileage than the old 350.  I love everything about it.

More to come!  Live the dream!

My Tree

I have a laptop now.  After many, many years, I have my first new computer.  It's a small HP laptop, and I just made sure it could match the performance of the desktop I got, oh, fifteen years ago?  Anyway, now I can do fun things again, like post pictures with these updates.

I had to run to the big city the other day to take my puppers up to get stiches.  He hi-fived my living room window on Saturday.  Pretty obnoxious wound, but everyone involved was a consummate professional.

Oh my way home, my daughter encouraged me to stop and get a picture of my favorite tree in the world.  It's a beacon of resiliency, a single tree on a high-mountain, wind-swept plain, standing proud, apart from the other trees, defiant.