Category Archives: Barriers

“How the Heck Can They Do That??”

HE SAID:

That’s the question. How is it that we, David and Jane, managed to temporarily quit work and travel for 3 months or more?

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Kitchen table Command Center!

First we started dreaming and discussing.  Our own inner conversation was perhaps the biggest obstacle to deal with.  What if?  What if something happens?  What will we do with our house, cars, bills, cats?  These and countless other thoughts are probably what keeps most people from trying out their own dreams.

Having a wonderful, mature, self-sufficient daughter helps more than we knew.  Our home and cats are in capable hands,  The house has more people living in it now than before this whole trip was conceived.

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Jane, Olivia and David on launch day

Jane and I are able to imagine options and dream without internal criticism sometimes.  We imagine big choices, brainstorm without reserve or critique and just see the routes that might unfold.  We do this with a lot of decisions, money management, future ideas, loans, projects, and any old dream.  While allowing a possibility, we get to outline many of the unfolding details without ever taking a first actual step.  Remember when you were thirteen?  Just paint a picture.  Don’t block  your own thoughts.

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Tents were considered, we love tent camping, but the thought of taking down a tent every day for months was eliminated early. Bed & Breakfasts were entertained, but the prices and fixed distances between could have precluded that possibility.  We hate generators and have an aversion to the fields full of “Rock-star buses” (big RV’s), KOA’s and campgrounds that look  like parking lots.  I researched those options and older RV’s and came up with a renovation/revival as an “off-grid” solution.  In our Tramper we are capable of warmth, showers, light, cooking, music and all the comforts of home without any hook-ups or support for more than three weeks at a time (other than filling our tanks with water and propane).

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Next, we had to look at our present lifestyle and bills.  This began in earnest more than 2 years before the Voyage.  But even before this, our lifestyle included numerous preventions to inordinate debt.  We drive old cars with “liability-only” auto insurance.  We live in a small older house, much “smaller” and cheaper than our realtor suggested for a two income family.  We try not to buy things we don’t “need”.  Thrift stores have surprises waiting as they also have fine clothing for your normal needs, especially used work khakis (for $10 instead of $80).

Pins on the map...

Pins on the map…

During our direct preparation, we eliminated ALL credit card use and other debts possible.  I paid my student loan in double payments, managing to pay 9 months in advance.  Nearly all materials for renovation came from weekly paychecks and not from savings.  This gradual approach fit the tasks as I spent 2 years rebuilding.  The first stage was on a new frame, brakes, tires and lights to create a safe “outline” to work with.  My car rebuilding, machinist, creative, research and contacts all formed the background assembly.

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The second year followed with three test trips where we took notes on what the interior needed, how to rearrange and how to weather a real Winter.  I even did a solo trip to the Catskills for the cold test at 12 degrees F.   The second stage of renovating started this March, after that cold test, when I gutted the interior, insulated, wired, plumbed, ran gas pipes and lines and finally recreated the warm Birch  interior I liked so much about the original.

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The ‘in-process’ view. The finished view is above.

– David

SHE SAID:

There are three things that came together that made this trip possible:

1. We both have professions that will (hopefully) allow us to step out for a year. David is a Physical Therapist and I am a Nuclear Medicine Technologist. When there are job openings, we could plug right back in. In the past, we both tried the management route and found it to be more of an irritant than it’s worth. So, we are now well-paid cogs in the wheel and content to be so. If I had finally attained my “dream job” after many years of climbing the ladder, well, I probably would have been a lot less likely to leave it.

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2. We have a small house. We bought it in 1999. It’s 1000 sq ft or so. Much less house than the realtor wanted us to buy. Much less house than we could have gotten financing for. We drive used cars. We have one TV. We have “dumb” phones. Our credit card balances are zero. Neither of us likes to shop particularly much. The sum of all this is that our expenses are relatively low. So, cash is available for a trip like this.

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3. Our personalities make this possible, as well. We are willing to take a calculated risk (leave our jobs and travel) for a really cool benefit (leave our jobs and travel)!

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Other things make the Tramper Voyage, if not possible, then a lot easier. Our daughter is 26 and is living in our house while we’re gone, so we didn’t have to sell or rent our residence and it’s in good hands. Our investment house actually makes a small income each month. Our child-rearing days are done. David’s mom, who needs constant care now, is in the excellent hands of David’s three sisters. (Hmm, wonder if it will be a lot more on us when we return? Well, that would be okay!)

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Moonrise in Texas

So, the circumstance fell into place; because we made it happen and because we’ve been fortunate in life.

the great Rio Grande!

the great Rio Grande!

But, the one thing I haven’t mentioned, the one thing that brings it all together is – David Grant! David can assess used cars and determine if they’re OK. He can do the work necessary to get those cars through inspection and keep those cars on the road. He can rehab a 1957 trailer so that it’s not only quite livable, but luxurious to live in! His common sense and his good ideas keep us happy and healthy.

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On the road and at home.

– Jane

The Blackboard, or, “My Cancer Recovery Meme”

Picture a blackboard. On the blackboard are written two paragraphs, in chalk. The first one reads:

A nurse walks in to the cubicle. She is dressed in a hazmat suit. Fluid-proof gown down to her shins. Booties over her shoes. There’s a paper cap over her hair. She wears a face mask with clear plastic eye protection. On her hands, industrial-strength rubber gloves. She carries a 60cc syringe (very large!) filled with a red liquid called “The Red Devil”. This is the Infusion Center, where chemotherapy happens. She injects the liquid, all of it, into the port in my right upper chest. The chest tubing dumps the chemotherapy agent, Adriamycin, into a subclavian vein, which only has a few inches to go to my right heart where the poison gets circulated to every cell in my body.

The second paragraph goes like this:

I haven’t looked at my chest in the mirror yet. It’s been several weeks since the bilateral mastectomy and the bandages covered me for the first two weeks. I’m beginning to feel a bit stronger and maybe I’m ready to take a look at myself. I have to do it someday. So far, I’ve been quite skillful in taking care of myself without actually looking at my chest, mostly because David has been monitoring my wounds and bandages. But today’s the day, so I look. It’s bad. But, I knew it would be. Livid red scars running across my chest where my beautiful breasts used to be. I am now concave. I don’t have  any flesh at all there. I look like an old, old man. I take a deep breath and remind myself that the surgery saved my life. I may have been in hospice by now without any treatment. So, if this is the way it’s going to be, well, I can live with that. The scars will fade. Then, I notice a small, pale pink dot, about a quarter of an inch wide, down near the scar on my right chest. Is that a piece of surgical adhesive? Suddenly, I feel sick. I sit down hard on the toilet seat. That little pale mole is one that used to ride high on my breast, like a little ornament. Now its several inches lower and flat against my rib. I start to cry…

Well, the good thing is that these two paragraphs are getting erased, bit by bit, from the blackboard. It started right away, the first time I could walk farther than around the block with David. It happens every time I laugh with my daughter. An eraser comes into the picture and removes a few more letters.

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The Tramper Voyage is helping. Each time something wonderful happens, the eraser comes along and removes some of the paragraph. Looking up at the starry sky at Baxter State Park.  Gracie smiling at me when we played together. Swimming in the warm Gulf of Mexico at Cape San Blas. Zealen running out in the morning saying “I’m a blueberry!!” because he dressed himself all in blue. Riding a bike out into the beautiful wilderness with David.

At these times I am filled up with happiness and more words are erased.

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I’m not the only person in the world with a blackboard. These paragraphs, written in chalk, are my own personal events from cancer treatment. But, everyone has a blackboard, deep inside, where hurtful things are written. Nobody gets through life without one. The trick is to let awesome things happen, then recognize that your own personal blackboard is slowly being erased.

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I fully realize that my rate of erasure is accelerated by being on an extended vacation. But, good things and good people happen everywhere, all the time. Even at work. Sometimes, even in traffic!

With grace and love and hope, we can all heal.

– Jane

DAY 94 12/17/2012 Texas Tour de Quebecois

In our long road West, we just had to visit Jean-Philippe in College Station, Texas.  Since he moved from Baltimore, we have missed him and his wife Anne.  They are temporarily apart by career investigation needs. Anne is now teaching in Sackville, New Brunswick. J-P is finishing projects here in Texas and abroad in Chile.

In them we found an intellectual curiosity that piques our own.  An ability to work hard, like it, and still have joy to throw into life after work.  In them we find laughter and a hope that earth is a pretty good place to live.  We looked so forward to visiting J-P that we drove hard from New Orleans.  Our one Walmart stop in Lake Charles led to being surprised by the Toys-For-Tots inspiration (see previous post), then back on the road!

The rural roads and dreaded Interstate in these big Southern states have 70 and 75 mph speed limits!  We just Tramp along at 55-60 and let our bright LED tail and marker lights, reflectors and red triangle warn everyone to pass at will.  They do.

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J-P, center, the laser physicist in his instrumentation lab with, from right, Travis – mechanical engineer, David, and two undergrad students. Real-life Big Bang Theory!?

College Station, of course, is the town around Texas A & M.  A multi-specialty University with everything you’d expect supporting and surrounding it.  J-P is a gracious host and guide.  He claims we hosted him with more cooking and feeding.  I’m not so sure, but we do like bringing our own kitchen and bedroom.

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We were treated to several Texas treats.  Mostly we learned Texas has a lot to offer!  It is a more beautiful and varied place than we could have imagined.  There is a lot here and the people couldn’t have been warmer or more friendly.  We ate a fresh grilled Texas steak, oh yeah, delicious!  Sampled fried pickles at a bar and grill named Crickets.  We ate Tex-Mex at Los Cucos and enjoyed really their scrumptious enchiladas, relenos, and then the next night we also ate at a great Texas BBQ, J Cody’s.  There may have been an excess of mounted deer on the walls, but the friendliness was real and the food as moist as a treasured family cookout.  Jane and I especially liked those fried pickles at Cricket’s, now slices instead of spears.

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Jean-Philippe brought us mountain biking too.  First we went to Waco, where any of my own preconceived ideas disappeared at a delightful riverside park, Cameron Trails.  A slow level river ride was a nice warmup that led to a mix of old and new trails with names like Hale-Bop, Cedars, Slinky,  and Highlands.  There were trees and hills!  Lots of trees, cedars, pines and a generously thick thicket.  There were smooth buff twisty single tracks.  Lacing them with roots and rocks added the treat we bikers love.  Jane enjoyed the bulk of our ride before insisting I take off with J-P.

He’s  been club riding regularly, racing a bit and is as slim, svelt and fast as ever.  He complimented me in saying no matter what we do, we are always the same speed.  I can’t say I’ve been training, but I also won’t pretend the voyage life isn’t a great diet of play, light good food and Very Regular activity.  We chased each other gleefully up and down for an extra hour and a half!  Aerobic exercise just isn’t work when the trail beckons and a friend is in reach.  Nice to know I still have that “old-guy-strength”.

A rare day of rain led us to rest, go see The Hobbit at a local theater and plan the Tramper updates.  Saturday I bought new tires for the trailer.  Without getting too technical, I wanted a bigger margin of safety.  In Maine, the trailer weighed in at 3460 lbs.  The original tires I selected during rebuilding are “C” rated for ~1800 lbs. each.  They also only held 50psi and seemed to be wearing badly at the inside edge (as seen in the Greensboro, NC posts).  I found wider, slightly bigger tires that are “E” rated for ~2800 lbs each and can be run up to 80 psi.  This should be MUCH better!100_7441

I had also noted that even though the 4Runner brakes were new when we left Baltimore, the truck now pulled slightly Left under hard braking.  A cursory look showed no particular problems.  Closer inspection did reveal an anti-squeal shim that had slipped and seemed a little off.  I knew doing nothing would change nothing.  I also couldn’t be sure whether a new pair of brake pads ($30) may or may not solve anything.  The hydraulics seemed OK, no leaks and no obvious signs of a stuck caliper.  (I had cleaned ’em and bled ’em in Baltimore, evacuating and flushing  ALL old brake fluid with over a quart of fresh Castrol high boiling point fluid).

So there I was with a possible way to improve it without going overboard.  The new brake pads were higher quality, better fit, and infused with ceramic.  I figured the odds trying something were better than the odds of doing nothing and just wondering what was wrong.  Then the guys I met at Napa were super nice too.  Apos is a Geology major and suggested lots of cool stops on our way West in addition to helping out with car parts.

I cleaned things up, popped in new pads and Voila!  It works, No More Pulling!  Sure is nice to pay for parts only.  I solved the problem for about $30 total.  Then on Tuesday morning, I paid someone else do our oil change.  I didn’t want to buy a big drain pan and deal with recycling the oil and cleaning out a pan…just pay the guys at Shell to take care of that.  They too became enthralled with our journey and added a few good suggestions.  Mostly each to a man wished us safe travels!  “Safe travels” spoken like they meant it; it rings so deep when I hear that.

Lastly, Jean-Philippe followed us down near Brastop to a small private mountain bike park called Rocky Hill Ranch.  They host 24 hour races and run the admission fees by honor system, keeping maps available at the “restrooms”.  We had yet another good shared ride, starting with scrambling up Fat Chuck’s Demise (rumored to have brought on an early end to its namesake).  The only bad aspect of this particular start is right off the lot, it is climbing.  Clawing up and around a handful of twisty roots,  laced heavily with egg and potato-sized rocks is a tough way to start.  Mountain bikers sometimes call these loose nodes “baby-doll-heads”.  Altogether they are much easier to roll over on downhills.

When J-P and I added our boy-time ride to use up the last of the light we headed deeper into the forest, finding a great piney narrow sinuous place of middle-ring/middle gear aerobic glee.  We traded leads again and again as we rode hard and steady.  Sometimes I miss racing.   But really, I miss riding hard and steady with such a good host and great friend.  Besides, our non-race rides now often last 5 or 6 hours and we snack and laugh much more than racers ever do!

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J-P gets ready to ride at Rocky Hill Ranch.

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Fun trail at Rocky Hill.

 

– David

DAY 87 12/10/2012 The Travails of the day…

Leaving the free refuge of the Pensecola Walmart parking lot, we set out to try the Tramper at something new.  Riding a ferry in the Gulf from Fort Morgan to Fort Gaines below Mobile Alabama seemed like a fun coastal adventure.  A last-minute phone call nodded a no-go.  They weren’t accepting any trailers or RV’s today.  Drat!  Rolling along after packing up makes us think of “second-breakfast” sometimes, so when we saw the Coffee Cup Diner despite not having made it out of Pensacola yet, we parked out back. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI motioned to Jane as we cross the parking lot that we may be meeting our waitresses out back here while they seemed to be taking their smoke breaks.

Inside we found just our kind of place.  A broiling flame raged at the stove where the short-order cooks blazed through their lists of orders.  A simple menu praised the grits and on the wall was a sign: No Grits No Glory.  Jane went into the restroom to wash up, and as I sat down a new experience unfolded.  All around me smart phones started screeching and beeping.  They blasted a Tornado Warning!  Of course we don’t have a smart phone so there I was peeking over people’s shoulders, gleaning what I could and waiting for Jane.  One phone owner bragged about his last tornado while I tried to sort out my own reactions.

I still have more Tramper destinations.  There are still places to go, things to do.  Maybe the tramper attracted this thing as trailers so often do?  I have walked along the actual path of tornado destruction before and seen news descriptions.  Knowledge sometimes tells you exactly what to do; other times it tells you there’s nothing you can do.

By now Jane is out at our table.  We debate briefly whether to drive and hope we pick exactly the right time and direction, or stay put.  We stay and order coffee, grits and a biscuit.  There is a Bruce Cockburn song we love that goes: “If this were the last night of the world, what would I do that was different unless it were champagne with you?”  Today it was grits and good coffee; the waitress got a pretty good tip too!

Jane texted Debbie who used an iPad in Baltimore to check weather.  The warning was being lifted.  We heard the next day several unconfirmed twisters had touched down from Birmingham to Pensacola.  We didn’t see any.

The road later offered its own surprises.  Heavy traffic near Mobile and an accident in the light misty rain at a highway split.  The kind where our crawling column of traffic arrived just before the ambulance, only one cop had pulled up and the poor harried car was facing the wrong way showing its defaced, unrecognizable grill-less front end.  Boy do we count our blessings and lack of rush.

Later we rolled into a drenching, driving rain in Alabama.  The crowned road wasn’t enough to shed the torrent and I found myself glad to be rolling slowly with good tires all around and separate brakes on the trailer.

No more than half an hour later we coasted into a small town, Robertsdale, where we took note of the usual strip of stores, Advance Auto, Dollar General, Nail, and pawn shops.  By the second light I smelled transmission fluid.  Five seconds later Jane asks, “whats that smell?”OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

Then the smoke!  Trying to block panic, I methodically look around for the right place to touch down.  I feel like a bush pilot, surveying the busy lots around where I would be in someone’s way or they in mine.  I pick a church on the right just in time to notice the transmission is shifting “differently“.  Shut it down, open the hood and EVERYTHING is soaked with boiling hot, red transmission fluid.  I can’t see a thing, can’t touch a thing, and can’t tell where all that red is coming from.  But there’s a steamy puddle growing on the ground already…

Yup, hood up as the universal sign “don’t tow me” and I advise Jane we will be entertaining ourselves for an hour while this thing cools.  I went and bought 4 quarts of Dexron, a roll of paper towels, box of rubber gloves, a bag of kitty litter and investigated the worst case price of a new radiator.  ~$240, and available within a few hours, I explain to Jane and the clerk that I probably won’t need it; it’s probably a transmission line going to the cooler up in the grill.   We also went to CVS for a little light shopping while the car continued to cool.

Of all the >100 mile off the beaten path places, all the night hours of driving, the rainy portions, and even the traffic jam this morning…our little 4Runner picked a town with 3 auto parts stores and “no grocer” to break down in.  Well, I have a paper suit just in case of these sorts of things.  (known as a bunny suit in the hospital world)

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Where’s-my-super-suit?

Where is my super-suit?  Jane “what”?  Where-Is-My-Super-Suit?  (You’d have to have watched The Incredibles recently to get that reference).  So, I donned the paper suit, used half a roll of paper towels to dry everything, cleaned the front tires and found the culprit.  Whether I failed to tie the hoses down as well as I thought or the mechanic in New York accidentally knocked things loose doesn’t matter.

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The transmission line had risen above a critical height and been rubbed through by the fan.  Half an hour later and we were rolling safely again.  We determined to make it ALL THE WAY TO NEW ORLEANS.  Arriving the back way to St Bernard State Park at about 7:30 was of no concern to the ranger and we settled in for a quiet night in the Tramper.

– David

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It’s Not All Good

We try to write in a positive, upbeat or optimistic style. Why accentuate the negative when so much good stuff is happening?

However, that may lead readers to believe that the Tramper Voyage is one big ball of constant sunshine. That nothing bad, or even sort-of bad, ever happens. Not true!

To illustrate this point, I will indulge in a completely negative post. Here is a sampling of some of the not-so-great things along the way:

1. Day One, we forgot to pack some important stuff. debbie-downerThe generator, our passports, our bike helmets and the contents therein – gloves, glasses, etc. Also, Jane packed not one pair of reading glasses. (As a bonus, the passports were expired. Fortunately, we found a Postal Service employee who helped us through the renewal-on-the-fly process).

2. We’ve lost a couple of things, mostly laundry. A pair of lavender plaid pajama pants, a 65-year-old hand towel that was my grandmother’s, one grey sock.

3. On a hike in New York, we discovered to our horror, that a half dozen ticks were crawling on us or attached to each of us.

4. On the Kingdom Trails in Vermont, we became hopelessly lost and circled back to the same place 3 times. It also began to hail during the farthest point of the ride.

5. Jane fell on the rocks hiking back down from Sterling Pond in Vermont. Got a nasty scrape on my right forearm. I have a lovely jagged purple line from wrist to elbow.

6. Blog readers already know about this one: We blew a head gasket and were stranded in Rosendale, NY for 2 weeks. Not to mention the enormous repair bill.

7. Jane locked herself out of the trailer (and the truck) while David was out on a bike ride. Usually, we are never apart. Just this one time, David took an extra lap. I managed to pry open a storage door and found a screwdriver but the screws on the trailer entrance door are all burglar proof with nuts or washers on the inside. I waited for David to return and we pulled out one of the screens. This only worked because the windows were open and also because the keys were on a table immediately below the window we pried the screen off of.

8. We’ve been using a friend’s Hiking Trail GPS. We totally missed tracking a couple rides or hikes because we forgot to enter an endpoint to the trail or we only entered one waypoint for the entire day. This is no big thing, though, because mostly we don’t track much.

9. Drove away without the trailer lights hooked up. Fortunately, a friend was following us and gave us a call to let us know that we had no brake lights.

10. David broke a key off in the latch on an outside storage bin and had to be replaced with parts from camping World in NC.

11. Several (poorly made) door latches in side the trailer broke. David promptly fixed them by drilling a screw in to secure them.

12. The 4Runner bumper pinched the right trailer turn signal wire against the hitch and blew a fuse. Again, promptly fixed.

13. David’s butt doesn’t like too much driving.   ‘Nuff said.

14. We have spent the night in a couple of truly ugly campgrounds. Mostly these are private, not in a state or national park. In North Carolina, we pulled into a camp with 6 sites. It was basically a small gravel parking lot in a level space created by scraping a hill out of the way. The only green was the small septic drain field, also used as a dog walk (poop) area.

15. The biggest problem of all: traffic and other drivers! On the New Hampshire/ Massachusetts border a pickup abruptly pulled out halfway across our lane. He was coming out of a bar parking lot and seemed to have no awareness of us as we swerved and screeched. With David at the wheel, already talking about the safety margin driving slower than the speed limit on a mountain downhill, we came out of it without a scratch but our hearts were racing when we were safely on our way again.

So, that’s about it for the negative things. All in all it’s been quite a lovely and trouble free trip.

– Jane