Tag Archives: Tramper pics

DAY 57 11/10/2012 How far South are We?

All my Baltimore life I’ve heard the standard axiom that Maryland is little America.  “Yes, just drive three hours West to the mountains or three East to the ocean.  You can reach everything from here”.    Years later I’ve made observations of my own.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAJust drive three hours north and you reach New York, the bustle, Times Square, Broadway, theaters, and all they have to offer.  Then when you drive three hours South, folks ask; “How y’all doing?”, and they wait for a real answer.  They really want to know.  It’s still that way.

When we awoke here in Waynesboro Virginia without a plan, the good and possibly renowned  outfitter, Rockfish Gap seemed the place to go for our morning question:  Where should we go today?  The clerks directed us to a knowledgeable bearded customer, Tony who rifled through the maps in the store rack.

Witch Hazel in bloom in a sheltered valley

Witch Hazel in bloom in a sheltered valley

He pointed out hikes of varied lengths and types,  showing us where the most hunters would be and trying to ensure we’d have a good time.  He added that we could be using retired “Smartwater” bottle instead of the 2 new Nalgene bottles I picked up in the store.  I mentioned something of helping with business economy in my usual fashion, now forgetting our own newly chosen economy, which, without jobs, clearly goes only one way.

We picked a modest hike off the Blue Ridge Parkway OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAand after a few miles and some elevation gains, saw evidence of the snows from Sandy and the Nor’Easter.  Yup, there was a faceless snowman to greet us.   OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOur hike did its elevating job on our legs as we found ourselves thinking about a meal.

We rolled carefully down a switchbacked mountain road Eastward off of the Blue Ridge Parkway seeking a campground called Montibello.  The store was open, we hoped to check in after our nice rocky hike, but the clerk informed us the campground was closed for the season.  I had just started my response that we didn’t need hookups or anything and she reached for the phone.  Our friendly Southern cashier was calling ahead to another campground she knew to be open.

Dave and Sue run a nice little place called Crabtree Falls Campground where we were happy to pay the nice country fee of $26.  Many bigger sites charge over $35 and this in part is why we “camp” in some of the strange places we use.  Every dollar saved could be another day on our voyage.  OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOnly Dave was there to register and greet us.  He and I could have talked another hour if that hiker-hunger weren’t simmering in my belly and Jane was waiting in the Tramper.

The next day, Dave had more questions about the Tramper.  His avionics mechanic background coupled with his Mt Bike and snowboard social ways again led to timeless shared joy.  I love to talk about things, learn about things, laugh with these great people we are meeting on the road!  Before long, unprompted, Dave responded to our voyage by pulling a $20 back out of the register and “investing” in our trip’s future by refunding most of the camping fee!   Jane and I were baffled, complimented, nearly cried and could only say THANK YOU Dave!

– David

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At Crabtree Falls Campground, Tyro, VA

Autumn in New York

Millie & Les - my parents

Millie & Les – my parents

My parents had close friends who moved to New York.  Many an Autumn, they would take us kids to visit and enjoy the fall beauty.

It just so happens that David & I are now stuck in New York a little longer than we thought. The town of Rosendale couldn’t be more supportive and helpful during Sandy, the big storm bearing down on us as I write.

Also, my mom and dad loved Frank Sinatra. So, with time on my hands, I made this little tribute slideshow.

– Jane

DAY 45, 10/29/2012 Moved out of Camp…

We had a quiet night despite building winds and storm anxiety.  I always try to block and limit the hysteria generated by the media.  I know my risks, make my choices and get to live with them.  We have had 4 DAYS of building concern and hype.  This has allowed time our forefathers wouldn’t have had to actually prepare our properties or to worry ourselves sick.  We have confab-ed with Olivia, talked about cat boxes on basement landings, sump pump contingencies and our own decision tree (no pun intended).

By noon today, it still hasn’t rained here yet.   Sorry Baltimore, I know you are getting it now.  But I have chosen a house made of Aluminum and the big bad wolf has not yet arrived here.  We had time to have a relaxed outdoor cookout of fork-held hot dogs with our camper-neighbor friend.  New York City is shut down like much of the Mid-Atlantic.  As we cooked and ate prior to the impending days Jane and I will spend out of the rain in our little box, we heard three different trees break.  One far into the woods, eight inches in diameter.  Another just at the campground driveway 200 yards away snipped the power lines right off the telephone pole.  J and I went down, confirmed that no wires were hot (they were sheared clear off the pole), and cleared the driveway.

Casual lunch as Sandy slams the South

Casual lunch as Sandy slams the South

I made the difficult decision to impose upon our friend to take us out of camp.  This journey is temporarily inconvenienced by the absence of the truck. But I must place safety concern for Jane and I above the conveniences of camp here.  I also consider the Tramper to be irreplaceable at this time.

Just a few branches to clear our egress "just in case"

Just a few branches to clear our egress “just in case”

We now sit in town, in the middle of the Recreation Center parking lot several hundred yards from the nearest tree.  The storm is still impending, but here they expect ~2 inches of rain and 30-40 mph gusts.  We are safer.  the truck has been disassembled at Chilcott’s (they wouldn’t let me help).  And I was right, the head gasket is blown, only one cylinder had leaked, there appears barely any rung-groove, denoting little wear on the remainder of the motor.  The heads are at the machine shop with “if it aint broke, don’t fix it” instructions.  In a few days we may resume.  I may drive two or three small journeys nearby while under warranty to explore the repair before hitching up and leaving town.

The lonely little Tramper, far from any trees or limbs that could fall, ending the Voyage

The lonely little Tramper, far from any trees or limbs that could fall, ending the Voyage

Meanwhile we wait, read, and play a few games.  “Good thing Jane and I like each other.”

Wow…As I finished writing, Ken and Karl the Highway Supervisor informed us that the Rec Center has hot coffee and bathrooms available for us.  They deemed us Parking Lot Security, laughed and welcomed us heartily!

PEOPLE ARE GREAT!

– David

DAY 39 – 10/23/2012 – Beached! In which the truck fails…

I just put a pan of Toll House bars in the oven. There’s laundry drying in the shower and the rice and beans leftovers are stowed away.

It’s day two in the Creekview Campground in Rosendale, NY. We’ll be here for a while. Maybe another week.

The 4Runner blew a head gasket on Sunday night. It sits idle on the campsite, waiting for attention.

It’s just another adventure on the Tramper Voyage, sort of “Little House on the Prairie” style! It’s ironic that right now I’m reading A Painted House by John Grisham. It’s not his usual tense legal drama but rather a story based on his own childhood in rural Arkansas in the ’50’s. There aren’t many modern amenities. Hard, hand labor is the order of the day.

While we do have Internet and cell phones we have no microwave, dishwasher or washing machine. The water reservoir must be filled daily. Hot water is produced only after we turn on the water heater, powered by propane which, in turn, also has to be refilled. So, compared with our former lifestyle, we are somewhat roughing it in a small trailer. And, it’s raining which keeps us inside.

But, it could be worse. A whole lot worse.

On Sunday evening, we were finishing a day of driving after a nice hike up Monument Mountain near Great Barrington, MA.

Here's the gully that I dropped David's camera into while on our Monument Mountain hike. The camera dropped, I screamed. It bounced, I screamed again. Bounce. Scream. Bounce. Scream. Then, splash! into a stream. I think it's dead... but it had a good 10 year run.

Here’s the gully that I dropped David’s camera into while on our Monument Mountain hike. The camera dropped, I screamed. It bounced, I screamed again. Bounce. Scream. Bounce. Scream. Then, splash! into a stream. I think it’s dead… but it had a good 10 year run.

We had arrived in the Shawangunks region of New York state and thinking about where to park the Tramper for the night.

There was a description of a nearby trailhead parking lot that sounded good (and free). But, the Shawangunk mountains are a playground for New York City and the trailhead lots were crowded with rock climbers on this beautiful October Sunday. Also, we encountered a tremendous traffic jam outside New Paltz. Everyone was headed toward the interstate back to the city.

Sunset in New York, with the car thunk-thunking.

Sunset in New York, with the car thunk-thunking.

So, we opted to head for a small campground instead. The truck, by this time, was starting to run very rough. The trailhead was on a mountain. The campground was in the valley. We chose the campground, just a few miles away. Good thing we did!

It was full dark when we pulled in. The truck was overheating but managed to pull us into a campsite. We met the manager (or maybe he’s the owner), paid for the night and settled in.

David soon determined that the truck had blown a head gasket. Oy! It will require a pretty big repair. David has spent the last two days on the phone and online, trying to figure this all out. I’ve been mostly reading and washing things. And baking those cookie bars which are now cooling in their pan. The Tramper smells delicious and is nice and warm.

The Creekside is a small independent operation. Maybe a dozen campsites. Hot showers, flush toilets (I know! Sorry! I try not to mention the ‘t’ word much but it’s a reality!) and electric and water hookup for the Tramper. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERABill, the manager/owner said he stopped selling firewood a few years back. He didn’t want to deal with collecting the sales tax. He’s a bit of a curmudgeon but he adds local color and is giving us a nice weekly rate.

We landed in a pretty good spot! Imagine if we had opted for the trailhead. Life would be a lot less cushy right now.

My good friend Donna gave me this lamp years ago. It makes a nice glow at night.

My good friend Donna gave me this lamp years ago. It makes a nice glow at night.

There would probably be no cell phone or internet service on the mountain either, even with our hotspot. We’ve run into that situation many times on our trip. Lack of these services would have made it very difficult for David to get help with the 4Runner. Not impossible, just more difficult.

So now, we wait. And hang out in the trailer. It’s very cozy and comfortable in here. The renovations that David did are holding up very nicely! In some ways, it’s easier to live here. There are different chores but a lot fewer chores than at home. Life is simpler and sweet.

Yummy maple syrup we enjoyed on our pancakes this morning. Purchased from Matt, the nice shoe salesperson we met back in Maine

Yummy maple syrup we enjoyed on our pancakes this morning. Purchased from Matt, the nice shoe salesperson we met back in Maine

Tomorrow, AAA will come and tow the poor 4Runner to a shop in nearby New Paltz. David’s been talking with a guy in an auto shop there. David has a talent for establishing an instant rapport with people and the guy seems to want to help us out. Not a discounted-price kind of helping us out. But, he’s sympathetic and maybe won’t rip us off. Fingers crossed!

Now the bars are ready to eat…

– Jane

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI outlined nearly this exact scenario when we were “truck shopping”.  No amount of prep can eliminate all risk.  When buying the ’95 4Runner for 2 grand I stated, even if we blow the head gasket or transmission, we may just have to throw another thousand at it.  We’ll just meet some new people and settle in biking and waiting.  If you recall the “blacksmith’s hammer” of pre-ignition, it is pinging that likely killed the poor head gasket on the anvil of mountain climbs and sometimes highway paces.  Fortunately, Toyota has a revised MLS, Multi-Layer Steel gaskets that reportedly hold up better.  I wish the truck were nestled in my own garage where I would disassemble, measure and repair everything with the help of a local machine shop…but I won’t be dropping bolts on the ground here where the weather could change overnight and it’s raining right now.

I always believe our problems are only as big as our hysteria.  Sometimes, I almost think I like it when I have trouble.  No, I don’t really like problems, but have always enjoyed a methodical reaction.

In my teens I was on a school bus shuttling skiers to the Trailside Lodge in Vermont.  When it became stuck on ice, sliding slightly into a shallow ditch nearly everyone sat still worrying about being late for dinner.  Even though I knew I couldn’t budge the thing by pushing, I went out, walked around for a look.  I managed to direct a few willing strangers and a friend to lay branches under the wheels in the culvert, then safely orchestrated pushing and rocking from our team to free the bus.  Thought and caution are good reactions.

We will sort this out.  (At least it is not ruining a treasured one-week vacation) And, who better to be stuck with? ..than Jane

– David

More People!

I ease into most days with the well-wishing of others back home in my mind.  Seems every day someone is helping us get going, do a little laundry, blessing us, or just joining us for a laugh.  We do that often and sometimes with little provoking.

The Tramper and 4Runner Truck are performing pretty much flawlessly.  The poor truck does “ping” sometimes on the highway when I abuse it trying to keep with uphill traffic .  Premium gas, cautious shifts of the automatic transmission and overall patience keep that to a minimum.  Any of you who know what  pinging is (or have heard of it but don’t) may be aware that its like hitting the pistons with a blazing hot blacksmith’s hammer 3000 times per minute.  Essentially spontaneous combustion occurs to an unstable mixture of fuel and air before the piston even reaches it’s top position where it should await an explosion lit by the spark plugs you pay for that job.  That’s where power comes from if things are running right.

I brought the Toyot (missing the A on the tailgate) to a few small shops to see if anyone had time to squeeze in a look.  Both places were gracious, the first mechanic was middle aged, but wore a mohawk.  It was hard to look him in the eye much.  His shop was booked.  The next guy was familiar with 4Runners as that’s what he drives.  Steve squeezed me in this morning for an oil change, transmission fluid change, and to aim a timing light at the 3.0 V-6.  It is as good as  it is going to get; So, my patience and smaller roads will preserve the motor.  I Hope.  Oh yeah, he said GOOD LUCK on the trip, take your wife out to dinner and didn’t charge any labor!  ($33 bucks: wow, the world is full of good people)

Cusick's sign was all I had to go on until I stopped in to ask about squeezing me into their schedule

Cusick’s sign was all I had to go on until I stopped in to ask about squeezing me into their schedule

In Acadia I heard a guy in the Market and Grill mention making pie while we ate breakfast.  When I asked about a slice, the waitress said they didn’t sell pie.  So in a moment Michael (we think) came over and said we could have a slice.  He had made 4 pies for Church and social groups, with one going to his co-workers (or employees) at the grill.  He insisted Jane and I share one, warmed and A-la-Mode’.  Wow, what a baker.  I think it was better than the ones I make with subtle wisps of flavor and a delicate crust.  (the world is full of good people)

In New York we stopped at what could have been a kitchy-artifice of a country market.  A glance saw tchatchkies , knicknacks, candies and handcrafted items.  Closer scrutiny bore out the deep roots; this is a Farmer’s store.  Produce and blacksmithed items at reasonable prices.  (A sizable weathervane for ~$50)  When we met the proprietor I knew it to be the real deal.  Doug and I traded yarns while he checked out the Tramper, each with trouble finishing his story before the other wanted to speak.  By the end, I told him he could borrow the Tramper after our voyage.  Seriously.  A pair of tires or a battery would be good rent and it would be out of my driveway for a month or so.  I don’t know if it was his smile, handshake or stories that gave me the confidence in mankind.

Doug and I in the glory of the day on his parking lot

Doug and I in the glory of the day on his parking lot

Back to the people supporting, nurturing our ride.  A long-time friend who used to let me watch him restore Indian motorcycles and Willy’s Jeeps (I was about 6 years old) certainly kindled my adventure and mechanical roots.  When I researched small trucks on Craigslist part of my selection was confirmed by the previous owner Steve, who had purchased it for his son who now had to go off to college at University of Maryland.  Steve shook hands on the type of deal where trust meant he would hold it until we returned to buy it in a few days.  No deposit required.  I almost felt bad pointing out the work I’d be doing to get it through inspection and safe.  Of course the $300 price break came in handy for rear axle seals, bearings, and rear brakes.  I had to dip into savings for the rest of the parts: front brakes, 4 shocks, mud flaps, muffler, hoses, belts, fluids and “all”.

A surprise came when neighbor Billy brought over one last present, a Dietz kerosene lamp of about the same vintage as the trailer.  He had also donated several small details, some used, some stored at home; an awning and poles, a big plastic water tank.

Look carefully, the left light is a 50 year old kerosene lamp (better picture to be posted) Thanks Billy!

Look carefully, the left light is a 50 year old kerosene lamp (better picture to be posted) Thanks Billy!

When I was trying to make new Birch look like old Birch I trialed about 20 different stain combinations.  It was serendipitous  that I met Dave, a customer at Woodcraft, who showed me the perfect product.  A small bottle of Brown Maple Aliphatic Dye to measure into the shellac, ml. by ml. until the desired hue is found.  Wonderful.

We mentioned Tom and Jean who came and fed us one eve during our hurried final packing.  And, of course, Jane’s recovery from that pesky but benign biopsy. They packed us champagne and steaks.  Wow.  We feel so privileged.

Jane and I both felt compelled to get really good hiking boots.  Jane’s slip and fall while descending the Sterling Pond “bouldering-staircase” cinched it for her needs.  An old pair of Vasque boots had been overheated by a fire ring at Lykens a few years before and were failing.  My own boots were >5 years old from LL Bean and were lasted like a pair of buckets.  We searched the internet which led us to the mall and a store that didn’t stock boots in Jane’s size. The clerk there said, “check Sleepers”, a store next door.   There we met Demarre and Matt who fervently helped as if they meant it.  Matt’s family makes maple syrup so we are well stocked now!  We bought a wine bottle FULL  of Maple Syrup…dark and sure to be delicious soon.

When it came time to leave Maine we went to a gravel pit and weighed the rig.  A business called Ferraiolo’s in Farmingdale didn’t bat an eye as I drove between dump trucks, front end loaders, and gravel spreaders with my little lumbering Tramper.   The scale man was cordial, said the price would be 5 or 10 bucks.  After we finished, he asked for $5.  First I drove onto the long steel plate, total weight: 8,640 lbs.  Then the truck alone: 5,220 lbs. that leaves the Tramper at 3,420.  I guess I’ll look at the ratios, freight rates and see just how bad, or good it is to get the 12-ish mpg we’re getting.  Oh yeah, the people.  He was smiling and eating a tootsie-pop.  Just the right touch to a down-home send off and a cheap way to see how much our load weighs.

Small, five-year-old Parker made us a book of art and helped us on our Raystown, PA  test run.  His dad Steve graciously loaned us his Dodge truck.  perhaps nicest and most frequently seen though, is the cool quilted Tramper banner that hangs proudly at our door.  Donna gave this to Jane days before we left.  We travel on love of family and friends.  We miss you all daily and take note of or take pictures of things you each “just have to see”.

Rainbow artist - Parker L.

Rainbow artist – Parker L.

Yes, there is indulgence in this journey.  But, too we feel there is some amount of inspiration.  Good People Everywhere.  Plus, we demonstrate the possibility of doing that dream that you’ve always dreamt! (even if it doesn’t involve traveling in an aluminum box for a year).