Canada offers a lot of beautiful scenery: majestic mountains, towering evergreen trees, massive bodies of water, bright green grass, abundant wildlife, and quaint towns. Many RVers enter the country for a peaceful camping experience. We had a trek to Alaska in mind, which requires driving through British Columbia and the Yukon. We had done a little research before crossing the Canadian border to find out what we could take, what we couldn’t, and special requirements. We learned there were restrictions on chicken and eggs but that fresh produce was OK to bring. After watching videos of other RVers’ border crossings, we realized the Border Services Officers didn’t tend to request much in the form of paperwork. We felt prepared to enter the country and decided to cross at Eastport, Idaho, as we were working our way from Eugene, Oregon, to Dawson Creek, British Columbia, for the official start of the Alaska Highway. Interrogation We reached the border crossing and stopped behind a semi-truck. After about 10 minutes in line, it was our turn to approach the border inspection station, where we handed over our passports and were greeted with a battery of questions:
Because we live in our RV, we often answer the “Where are you from?” question by saying we’re full-time RVers. Thankfully, Bob remembered to provide our legal city and state: Sioux Falls, South Dakota. We assured the officer no one was traveling with us. We didn’t know at the time that we had a stowaway (more on that later). Excitedly, we shared that we were headed to Alaska and would be in the country fewer than 30 days. Bob enjoyed telling the officer that I worked as an editor and that his job was to “keep looking this good.” Bob volunteered that we were carrying two rifles and had paperwork for them. That led to another question: “Why are you carrying the rifles?” We answered for protection against dangerous wildlife. Bob also volunteered that the rifles and the ammo were locked separately. The agent asked where the rifles were. We told him. Then the officer asked if we had any other weapons. We told him we left them behind in Arizona. He asked what we left behind. Bob rattled off the list. The guard asked if we had any pistols with us. We assured him we didn’t. He asked if we had any other ammo for guns we didn’t have in our possession. We told him no. We remembered we had a small canister of CBD cream we had picked up about three years earlier and divulged that information. We had purchased it for its supposed benefits for bodily aches and pains. After a few uses, we weren’t convinced it really worked. In-Person Encounter Because we had rifles and the necessary paperwork to carry them through the country, we had to park and go inside the building. The guard told us not to take the rifles with us, to leave them where they were, but to take the CBD cream. We obeyed. Inside the building, we presented our paperwork and the CBD cream to another official. We paid a $25 fee to carry the rifles. The officer told us they’d accept anything but American cash. As for the cream, it seemed to be problematic as cannabis and CBD items are controlled substances in Canada. As such, it required extra paperwork for the Border Services Officers but not for us. We offered to surrender the CBD cream if that would make things easier. The agent told us that was going to happen anyway. Because of that extra paperwork, we had to show an ID. Since our driver’s licenses didn’t display our current address, the official also requested to see our truck registration. I ran out in the rain to get it. We saw another fifth wheeler get turned around back to the U.S. for having what looked like some sort of vape device. After showing our truck registration, we got our rifle paperwork back along with a receipt for our payment, and we were free to tour the country — about 20 minutes after arriving at the border crossing. Illegal Immigrant(s) We didn’t know we had smuggled a stowaway into Canada until later that night, when we heard scurrying across our ceiling as we tried to sleep. The day before, we had discovered evidence that a rodent had found its way into our rig. Since we were boondocking in Eastern Washington state at the time, we guessed the unwelcome houseguest to be a field mouse. Much of our incentive for risking a rainy drive to enter Canada was to get away from field mice. We had hoped the washboard road away from our boondocking spot would be enough to scare the critter away or knock it out permanently. No such luck. After setting up at a campground in Kimberley, British Columbia, and enjoying a relaxing evening, Bob stayed up late playing a video game. A field mouse scampered across the living room floor in plain sight, uninhibited by the bright lights. (I had read that field mice don’t like light.) Ours was a rebel. We went out the next day to purchase mouse traps. Before we left, we discovered signs of a mouse in our upper cabinet, which we thought was safe from rodents. We knew if any got in there, they would hit the mother lode: baking ingredients, cereal, rice, dry beans, and pasta. How did a mouse get in there? we wondered. We removed all of the contents from the cabinet and found evidence that the mouse had chewed a hole in our interior. The creature had been traveling across our rafters, having a heyday. That’s why we had heard it overhead in bed. After returning from the store, we set out four traps. By 3 p.m., one snapped, announcing that we had caught a mouse. We reset the trap to make sure we didn’t have more rodents. That night, we didn’t hear any ceiling scurrying.
By the next morning, we caught another mouse. We reset that trap too. Better safe than sorry. Sure enough, the cycle continued, with a third trapped mouse the next day. We reset the traps again and awoke the next morning to find them all empty. We had successfully freed our rig from three illegal, unwelcome guests and could get back to normal full-time RV life. You might also like Driving Across the Border to Mexico.
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When we began our full-time RV lifestyle in 2020, we had a drive to Alaska in our sights. I’ve always wanted to experience the Alaska Highway. Since we needed to visit family in some other areas of the country first, we decided 2023 would be the year for our great Alaska adventure. Getting ready for a 1,387-mile journey through barren wilderness where wildlife roam freely, vehicles pass by rarely, and road conditions can leave a bit to be desired is no easy feat. We started plotting and planning early on, watching YouTube videos, listing items we’d need, and accumulating them over time. After three years of RV living, we certainly feel more prepared than we would have if we attempted to make the journey when first starting out. We’re glad we talked to others who successfully made the trip and eagerly shared tips and tricks. Here are the things we picked up in anticipation of what lies ahead in the Last Frontier. Vehicle Upgrades The first thing we did was add shocks to the trailer to help with the frost heaves and potholes that are common on the road to the 49th state. To ensure we could travel long stretches where fuel might be scarce, we upgraded our 32-gallon diesel fuel tank to a 55-gallon tank. Since wildlife are known to approach and cross roads in Canada and Alaska, they posed a risk to our vehicle. To give us the best chance at escaping an accidental run-in with an animal, we replaced Gulliver’s front bumper with a beefy grille guard. Tires often take a beating on the rough roads to and around Alaska. Knowing that, we purchased five new tires for Tagalong. We didn’t just get new tires, though. After four flat tires in one year, we upgraded from E-rated to G-rated tires, which are better equipped to handle our heavy load. We also got six new tires for Gulliver. (Can you say cha-ching?) Bob finally got to reclaim his pride from the mishap on the first leg of our initial RV journey. We replaced the broken fender skirt held together with duct tape. When we realized the opposite side’s fender skirt screw holes had become brittle, we replaced it too. When our BAKFlip tonneau cover for the bed of the truck broke at a seam, Bob jerry-rigged a temporary fix with ratchet straps and screws. That did the job and kept snow, rain, and dirt out until we could replace it. It’s nice to have a new one without dents or hail damage that works the way it’s supposed to. Personal-Use Items We invested in Starlink internet, which works anywhere on the continent that the dish can see the northern sky, as the technology is based on low-orbit satellites. Alaska got Starlink service at the beginning of 2023 — great timing for us. To give ourselves the best chance at a successful journey, we lightened our load, storing our handguns (not allowed in Canada), Davy Crockett pellet smoker/grill, lounge chairs, and various other items we could do without for a year. We also sold our little electric bikes, giving us more space in the back of our truck cab, where we used to stow them for travel. Alaskans joke that the mosquito is the state bird. We’re told the nagging insects are big enough to see there. We bought mosquito zapper racquets and face netting to protect ourselves from bites. We also secured some bear spray, which is highly recommended to have while traveling through Canada. We’ll be in some pretty remote areas where the animals can be common. The spray is essentially tear gas for bears. Knowing items tend to cost more in Canada and Alaska than they do in the lower 48, we stocked up on some grocery staples and standards we like to have on hand. In addition, we bought a jug of diesel exhaust fluid, a necessity to keep Gulliver trucking along. It may not be available at fuel pumps in Canada and Alaska like it is in the contiguous United States. And we picked up a copy of The Milepost Alaska Travel Planner, which details pertinent information about what’s available and where along the Alaska Highway. (Thanks, Richard and Janet!) Let the Alaska adventure begin! You might also like What an RV Travel Day Is Like. Ever heard of McMinnville, Oregon? We hadn’t either until a fellow RVer we met in Maine last summer dropped the name. The city of approximately 34,000 people became known for its vineyards and wineries. Although those still draw regulars and visitors alike, McMinnville gained a bigger claim to fame in 1993 when it received shipment of the Spruce Goose. I had heard my dad mention the Spruce Goose many times while growing up. Having taken a number of cruises out of Long Beach, California, I knew the Spruce Goose no longer resided there, as its former public hangar dome is now Carnival’s cruise terminal. But I didn’t know where the plane had moved to and had never laid eyes on it. When we learned it was only 1.5 hours from our campground in Eugene, Oregon, we had to go see it for ourselves. What is the Spruce Goose? The Spruce Goose is the world’s largest wooden airplane. The brainchild of shipbuilder Henry Kaiser, the “flying boat,” as it’s sometimes called, was created to transport troops and cargo to the Atlantic Ocean during WWII. Businessman, engineer, film producer, and pilot Howard Hughes, one of the richest people in the world in his lifetime, designed and built the eight-engine behemoth. Its wings span nearly 321 feet. It weighs 300,000 pounds empty. And it stands more than 79 feet tall. Because of war efforts, Hughes was unable to secure any metal for the project, so he resorted to wood, using the design of a wooden boat as his guide. Contrary to popular belief, the bulk of the plane consists of birch, not spruce. Only the engines, electronics, and screws are not made of wood. Five years after the building project got underway, Hughes sat in the cockpit behind the yoke to test the flying boat on the water of Long Beach Harbor. After two runs of getting the plane up to speed, Hughes wanted to prove that his mammoth creation could indeed fly. On the third test run, he lifted the plane and kept it in the air for about one mile before landing on the water. Moving a Colossus Because the war had ended, the plane never saw flight again. It sat in a hangar for 33 years. After Hughes died in 1976, the Wrather Corp. moved the aircraft into a domed hangar near the Queen Mary in Long Beach, where both could be seen by spectators. Disney acquired the Wrather Corp. but, after finding the attractions not profitable, decided to cut ties with them. Bids started pouring in from locations wanting to create a permanent home for the Spruce Goose. The proposal by Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum in McMinnville won, and plans were drafted to transport the flying boat from Southern California to Midwestern Oregon. The massive plane was disassembled and transported in pieces by barges up the West Coast to Northern Oregon. From there, the barges floated the Columbia and Willamette rivers to Portland, Oregon, where the aircraft parts were stored until water levels allowed the structures to float the Willamette River without crashing into any bridges. Several months later, the pieces arrived in McMinnville, delivered by truck the last 7.5 miles. A Visit to Evergreen Museum After nearly eight years of restoration to put all the pieces back together, Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum opened to delight young and old with close-up views of Howard Hughes’ flying boat. Seeing the mammoth marvel dwarfs all other planes in comparison. To think it was actually able to lift off is astounding. We enjoyed touring the expansive museum and learning more about the plane and its history, but especially seeing it up close. We even walked into a portion of the cargo area, where Plexiglass allowed us to look to the bow and aft of the plane. For an additional $30, up to four people can take a 15-minute tour of the cockpit. We opted to forgo that. Although the Spruce Goose is the main attraction at Evergreen Museum, the gallery houses numerous other aircraft, from a replica of the Wright Flyer to planes from the Golden Age to warbirds and more. Our $22 admission also granted us access to the Space Museum in another building. It takes visitors on a journey from the beginning of the space age through the Apollo missions and even includes a to-scale lunar module. We found the secondary hangar mesmerizing. It also included a sleek SR-71 Blackbird plane and an A-10 Warthog. If you’re ever near Salem, Oregon, a trip to the Evergreen Aviation & Space Museum is well worth the visit. We learned new things and found the innovations there inspiring.
You might also like 4 Highlights of Touring with a WWII Bomber. Although Idaho is famous for potatoes, it’s not dubbed “The Potato State.” No, it’s called “The Gem State” and is one of only two places in the world where you can find star garnet. (The other is India.) We didn’t see any gems, but we did see some other things the state has a reputation for. Picturesque Scenery Surrounded by towering mountains, Idaho offers a lot of beauty. During our visit, snow capped the peaks, making them that much more attractive — and a boon to skiers. In summertime, people venture to the mountains for hiking, camping, and other outdoor adventures. Idaho even claims its own glacier, Borah Glacier. It’s part of Mount Borah, the highest peak in the state, soaring 12,668 feet above sea level, according to Sawtooth Mountain Guides. The state is also known for its numerous waterfalls, some of which are backed by city names: Twin Falls, Idaho Falls, Post Falls, and American Falls. Although we visited Twin Falls, inclement weather kept us from venturing to Shoshone Falls to see if they were flowing. Together, Idaho and Oregon boast North America’s deepest gorge: Hells Canyon, measuring 7,913 feet deep, according to the U.S. Forest Service. We didn’t see that, but we did see the Snake River, which is responsible for Hells Canyon. Aptly named, the Snake River snakes its way from Wyoming, across southern Idaho, and into Washington state before flowing into the Pacific Ocean. Thrilling Rodeos Another thing Idaho is known for is rodeos. The 1900s kicked off the state’s most famous bucking horse competition, the Snake River Stampede. Today, that and the Caldwell Night Rodeo draw fans of all ages. Although we didn’t witness either of those famous exhibitions, we did take in our first bucking competition as part of the Professional Bull Riders, or PBR, circuit in Nampa. Guys from age 18 to 36 took turns riding bucking bulls to see who could stay on for 8 seconds. A number of them made it. The majority did not. Those who got bucked off ran from the unhappy beasts to keep from getting hurt, while a trio of U.S. Border Patrol agents distracted the animals to get them away from the riders and through an exit chute. A guy dressed as a clown entertained the crowd between buck-riding attempts. The show proved entertaining, and we’re glad we got to take part. We look forward to when we can enjoy a rodeo with multiple events. Historical Airplanes You may not realize it, but Idaho also hosts an annual Warbird Roundup in August, sponsored by the Warhawk Air Museum. We saw signs for the museum and knew it wasn’t far from where we stayed, so we took advantage of an opportunity to explore it. The museum has about 15 warbirds on display, including a P-51 Mustang, a couple of MIGs, a T-6 Texan, a biplane, and two P-40s that have movie history. The planes were impressive, as was the wealth of history encased throughout the two-hangar gallery. We walked among case after case of paraphernalia from Idaho veterans, examined an in-depth Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) exhibit, and learned things we didn’t know about Hitler and the Jews in WWII.
Before we left, a photo of a familiar B-17, “Sentimental Journey,” from the Commemorative Air Force Airbase Arizona Flying Museum caught our eye. Since we work on and around that plane, seeing it made us feel right at home. Idaho has much more to offer than scenery, rodeos, and warbirds. It’s also the lentils capital of the world and home to the most hot springs in the U.S., among other things. We’ll have to return when we can spend more time investigating the state’s uniqueness. You might also like Magnificent Rock Formations. After two weeks in the desert outside of Las Vegas, we took advantage of a break in the weather and headed north. We made it to Twin Falls, Idaho, and decided to hunker down for some more not-so-great weather to pass through. As we were setting up, we noticed some water pooled on top of a storage bin in our basement, made a mental note to check it later, and continued on. Good thing, because no sooner had we finished setting up and moved inside the trailer than a rainshower hit. We thanked God for giving us a clear window of weather for the duration of our trip. Winter Wonderland Grateful to be in a city where we could restock our supplies, we headed to a grocery story the next day. Not long after we got all our goods inside the trailer and put away, I noticed white flakes flying at us. We hadn’t seen snow since we’re not sure when. It stuck only briefly before melting away. The same thing happened the next day. The third day, however, we awoke to a winter wonderland. A fresh layer of snow blanketed Gulliver and the ground outside our trailer. We took joy in our frosty surroundings, a welcome change of scenery from the desert landscape. Our delight didn’t last long, though. While busy about our day, we both heard a loud crash and jumped up to see what had happened. Peering out our windows didn’t reveal anything conclusive, so we bundled up and left the warmth of our trailer to investigate. Ice covered our stairs. Careful not to slip, we braved the 30-degree temperature that felt like 18 with the wind chill. We found plenty of snow and ice on the roof and water on the ground where some had melted, but no clear indication of what had caused the noise. We decided a sheet of ice must have been blown by the wind and crashed into something on the roof or onto the ground. Water in the Basement The wind continued to blow that day until all snow and ice had been eliminated from our roof and our surroundings. Despite the blustery conditions, we made a point to sop up the water in our basement, dejected to have yet another water problem. As we tried to identify the source of the leak, we noticed a warped, discolored ceiling panel and a drip from the box protecting our leveling wires from damage. Bob pulled down the ceiling panels and more water dripped from them. A closer look at the panels revealed we had had an issue for a while. We touched the water pipes originating from the bathroom. They felt completely dry. We decided the water must have been a result of condensation since we found ourselves in much colder conditions than we had experienced up to this point. Nothing else made sense. So, we stuffed a rag around the pipes in the bathroom floor to seal the hole between it and the basement. Shark Bites Save the Day The next morning, we dried the pool again. Midday, when the weather had warmed ever so slightly, we found yet another puddle in the basement. “Where could the water be coming from?” we wondered. I had noticed a white, hard-water residue on top of the storage bin. Putting my sleuthing skills to work and investigating under the bathroom sink, I saw that same white residue on the cold water PEX pipe. Aha! We sopped up the water in the basement, again, and secured a rag around the blue PEX pipe under the sink to test our theory. A few hours later, sure enough, the rag under the sink was wet and the basement was dry. We had finally pinpointed the source of the water: a seep, not a drip, from the cold water pipe close to the bathroom faucet. That explained why we occasionally heard the water pump kick on when we weren’t running any faucet. To repair the leak, Bob went to the local Ace Hardware store and bought some Shark Bite ball valves to enable us to turn off the water to the bathroom sink if needed in the future. Unlike sticks-and-bricks homes, RVs don’t typically have shut-off valves at sinks. Bob also got some short, braided hoses to ensure enough flexibility to make the needed fix. He cut the red and blue PEX pipes under the bathroom sink, attached the braided pipes and the SharkBite valves, and connected everything back together. Voila! No more water leak. An Alarming Adventure At 4:30 one morning during our stay in Twin Falls, a high-pitched beeping pulled us out of our warm slumber. It sounded like the familiar noise we hear when a propane tank runs empty. I got up to switch the tanks and noticed a flashing light in the bathroom, where we have a battery monitor. The unpleasant sound turned out to be coming from there. Relieved that I didn’t have to go out in the cold to deal with propane bottles, I looked closer at the monitor and saw 33 degrees. It alerted us to near-freezing temperatures inside the front battery compartment of our rig, which meant it would be dangerous to charge our batteries until the compartment warmed up. Bob was able to stop the noise, and we drifted back to sleep. No batteries were harmed. Our water leak was gone. And we were warm. We had and continue to have much to be thankful for. You might also like Frozen Pipes, Armadillos, and Brake Issues — Oh My! We were looking for a place to boondock near Las Vegas to start our ascent north. We found what looked to be a great spot: Valley of Fire West Dispersed Camping, a swath of Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land known to have unofficial campsites (areas to pull off a dirt road and set up camp). When we told the boondocking community we were with at the time about our plans, they informed us Valley of Fire was a beautiful state park worth investigating. If not for their report, we may have never discovered this hidden gem, and we would have missed a breathtaking excursion. Surrounded by Red Rocks Other than red rock formations, we didn’t know what to expect as we drove 5 miles from our dispersed campsite toward the western park entrance. As we rounded the last bend before the payment booth, red rocks came into view. In exchange for a $15 nonresident fee, a park ranger handed us a receipt and a brochure. Off we went down the 7-mile Valley of Fire Road through the park, stopping at the first parking lot we came to: Beehives. Beehive-shaped rock formations mesmerized us. We climbed a little, snapped some photos, and found ourselves in awe. And this was only the beginning. We continued on, the red rocks becoming more plentiful. We turned off the main road to check out the campgrounds and see what we were missing. We had considered staying in the park for up to a week once we learned about that option. The $35 nightly fee for out-of-staters was reasonable, but reviews we read talked about the challenges of getting a spot on a first-come, first-served basis. Surrounded by picturesque flaming beauty, the campgrounds are nice. One felt a little more cramped than the other due to the towering rock formations surrounding it. Seeing the established campsites made us appreciate the vastness of our boondocking spot and confirmed we had made the right decision. Colorful Panorama Back on the main road, we passed the Visitor Center and climbed out of a valley between red rocks on the aptly named Scenic Drive. We parked at a spot called Rainbow Vista and embarked on foot on a 1-mile, round-trip trail to a canyon overlook. Rainbow Vista is a fitting name for this area, as it offers panoramic views of vibrant color contrasts: reds, tans, greens, blues, and yellows against a clear blue sky dotted with puffy white clouds. As we traipsed through the red sand and over rocks, we couldn’t help but marvel at God’s beautiful creation all around us. After rehydrating, we continued on Scenic Drive as the red rocks transitioned to white domes and pinks and pastels. We got out again for a short jaunt at the Pink/Pastel Canyon before heading back down to Valley of Fire Road and the Visitor Center. A History Lesson Inside the Visitor Center, we found a museum complete with descriptions of the different types of rocks in the area, the history of the peoples who had lived in the region, a collection of arrowheads and other artifacts and, of course, a gift shop. We learned the majority of the formations we saw were Aztec sandstone. The lighter colors were limestone. The concrete-looking rocks were conglomerate. We also discovered Valley of Fire was Nevada’s first state park. It opened in 1934, but the road through it dates back to 1912, when it was created to connect Salt Lake City and Los Angeles. My favorite part of the museum was learning about the people who had lived in the area and how they had survived and thrived. I even saw a remnant pair of handwoven sandals made from plants. Bob enjoyed learning about the variety of rocks. Treasure in the Wasteland Back in Gulliver, we decided to continue on Valley of Fire Road and exit on the east side, near Lake Mead. The scenic drive took us past seven natural pillars, a formation named Seven Sisters. It also led us to Elephant Rock. We parked there and hiked a little over a mile to see the structure bearing the name. Once we exited the park, I kept looking to my left, amazed at the lack of red rocks. A few formations hinted at the beauty behind them, confirming that Valley of Fire is indeed a hidden gem. It truly is worth seeing up close and personal, as pictures don’t do it justice.
You might also like Magnificent Rock Formations. We’re no strangers to boondocking, or camping off the grid (without water, electric, or sewer connections). We first experimented with it when we had a travel trailer and found ourselves amazed at how remote and isolated we could be not too far outside a city. The appeal of this freedom continues to attract us. Sure, campgrounds have their allure too: electricity, running water, and security, just to name a few. Although boondocking doesn’t include those things, it does have a lot of benefits. Let’s look at some of the pros and cons of boondocking. Pro 1: Beautiful Views Camping off the grid means we’re not constrained by campground setups and property boundaries. We can get up close with nature and park in such a way that our windows overlook magnificent scenes of God’s beautiful creation. No, we can’t camp just anywhere, but boondocking does give us a lot of flexibility. Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land offers some of the best boondocking. This land is much more prevalent in the West than it is in the East. If we want to get out of high temperatures and into cooler country, we can camp in forested areas with high altitudes. If we find mountain camping is too cold at a certain time of year, we can relocate to deserts with picturesque panoramas. The views aren’t limited to the horizon. Being away from city lights also gives us incredible shows in the night sky. One night while boondocking, our refrigerator started beeping to alert us our propane tank had run dry. We exited the rig to change the tank and were treated to an awe-inspiring scene of the stars come to life. I had never seen that many stars. Pro 2: Quiet Serenity Most boondocking spots offer solitude and quiet. I say most because some areas are popular with ATVers, motorbikers, and other outdoor toy enthusiasts. Such areas can be quite noisy, as can locations near shooting ranges. When not in those unpleasant environments, boondocking can feel a lot like old-school camping. Because we don’t have electric hookups, we typically watch less TV. Instead, we read, play games, and get out in nature. We find ourselves thinking about what it must have been like for early settlers in America. Boondocking allows us to spread out from other campers as space tends to be plentiful. We enjoy wider, airier setups than we find at most campgrounds. Pro 3: Economical Cost Boondocking locations are often free for up to a 14-day stay. Others require a permit for around $20 for that length of time. That means we can save quite a bit of money while camping in close proximity to, and exploring, national and state parks and other attractions. We did have to make an initial investment in some big-ticket items to be able to take advantage of this type of camping, though. Without electricity, another method is required to charge RV batteries. We invested in six solar panels that we installed on our roof. We carry an additional two panels in a solar suitcase, plus two generators that Bob converted to run on propane. That way, we don’t have to have gasoline for a single purpose since our truck runs on diesel. Our rig came equipped with a 75-gallon freshwater tank, 50-gallon black water tank, and 85-gallon gray water tank. We just have to plan ahead to ensure we have empty wastewater tanks, plenty of freshwater, and a stocked refrigerator and pantry before embarking on a boondocking adventure. Established campgrounds for dispersed camping (a fancy term for boondocking) may charge a small daily fee for maintenance. We stayed at one such location that charged about $10 a day, but it provided the perks of running water a couple of hours a day, a trash dumpster, and the freedom to empty our gray tank water into nature. For an additional $5 per-use fee, we could get our black tank emptied from a honeypot truck. Perks like those are not the norm when boondocking. Most of the time, we’re on our own.
Con 1: No Trash Pickup Cooking in any form tends to produce waste of some sort. Unlike campgrounds, boondocking locations don’t offer dumpsters for campers’ convenience. We’re required to pack out our trash. We’ve learned to use small plastic grocery bags for trash when boondocking because they’re easier to get rid of than a tall kitchen trash bag. Small bags fit better in a grocery store or gas station trash bin. This practice also makes it easier to divvy up our trash into numerous waste cans rather than trying to stuff it all into one. Con 2: Limited Water Supply & Wastewater Capacity We have to be mindful of the capacity of our freshwater and wastewater tanks while boondocking to ensure the first doesn’t empty and the latter doesn’t fill. If we run out of freshwater, we have to find a place that offers more and transport it to our location to replenish our tank. If we fill our waste tanks, we have to hook up Gulliver to Tagalong and head to the nearest dump station to get rid of the contents. That means no long showers with running water in between lather and rinse, which we don’t tend to do anyway. It also means only washing dishes once a day. Using paper plates instead of reusable dishes may equate to running less water, but it creates more trash. Con 3: Dust Collecting dust is pretty much a given when boondocking. Camping in the dirt lends itself to, well, dirt. Most boondocking locations are wide-open areas, which are prone to wind — that exacerbates the dust issue. Of course, wind isn’t isolated to boondocking spots. We’ve encountered plenty of blustery weather at established campgrounds as well, but it does seem to be more prevalent while boondocking — at least in our experience. The pros of boondocking far outweigh the cons, in our opinion. We’re thankful for the beautiful views, quiet serenity, and economical cost and will continue to take advantage of these camping opportunities. You might also like Busted While Boondocking. We never expected to spend our first three days back on the road on our roof, but there we were. The wind blowing against the front of our rig as we traveled down the highway made our slack rubber roof membrane flap, pulling open the Eternabond tape at the leaky seam we had sealed. More than likely, that seam had already been compromised by trapped moisture between the first and second repair jobs. Having met up with full-time RVer brother Tom to boondock in the desert, Bob ascended the ladder to the roof to adjust our solar panels so they could receive maximum sunlight throughout the day to charge our batteries. If he hadn’t, we likely wouldn’t have known about the roof issue — until we had another rain-produced leak. (We’ve since added a roof check to our disconnecting the trailer from the truck checklist.) To the Rescue Unpleasantly aware of the problem, we knew we needed to address it right away, before any rain came our way. Our boondocking neighbor turned out to be a godsend. Doug is a roof pro who specializes in solar panel installations. Although our solar panels didn’t need attention, his expertise lent itself well to our situation. He recommended peeling away the tape and caulk from our last repair job, removing the trim piece that seals the nose cap to the rubber membrane, and pulling the fabric taut under the cap before resealing the trim piece in place. That’s one thing we hadn’t done before: remove the trim. Maybe that was the missing link. Once again, we climbed onto the roof and started tearing apart the Eternabond tape and Dicor self-leveling sealant we had put in place two months earlier. This time, though, we had an oscillating tool that made light work of the job — and saved our fingers from blisters. Thanks, Tom! We succeeded in removing the old tape and sealant. Although we were eager to repair the issue, 15 to 17 mph headwinds prevented us from doing so. We didn’t want to remove the trim piece only to have the wind get a hold of the membrane and make matters worse. We had to wait for the wind to die down. Slow-Going The next morning, we ascended the ladder to the roof, removed the screws holding the trim piece in place, and cleaned off the silicone clinging to the trim. Because the sun hadn’t risen very high to warm the air, the rubber roof membrane had no slack. As a result, we couldn’t pull it taut under the nose cap. Our window of opportunity to replace the trim piece before the wind picked up quickly shrunk. Needing the weather to cooperate, we were reminded of Proverbs 19:21, which says, “Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.” During our break, I went back to work, and Bob did prep work for the repair job. That involved completely eliminating any remaining silicone from the trim piece, adding waterproof butyl tape to its underside, and cleaning the seam area to accept new sealant. The break also gave Bob an opportunity to consult with Doug about the best way to move forward. Bob readied himself to head into town to get an aluminum slat to secure on the roof directly behind the trim to prevent any remaining slack fabric from pulling open the seam again. Mission Complete Doug happened to have a 3-inch-wide piece and offered to cut it to the size we needed. We gladly paid for that convenience. (Did I mention Doug was a godsend?) Bob drilled pilot holes in the piece and sanded down the corners to prevent them from ripping new holes in the roof. Back on top of the trailer, we pulled the rubber membrane as taut as we could, unable to get it back to its original spot. We did the best we could and secured the trim piece, followed by the aluminum slat — instead of Eternabond tape. The aluminum would prevent any flapping fabric from ripping apart at the seam. Bob resealed all around the trim and aluminum with Dicor self-leveling sealant to keep rain from finding its way into our rig. Just as the “third time’s the charm” saying proved true in fixing the water problems that plagued us for months, we’re hopeful it will be true of our roof repair. Time will tell.
You might also like Attack of the Killer Cardinal. After many weeks of daily shammy wringing to eliminate water that had been collecting at the front of our fifth wheel in a very difficult-to-get-to area, I had had enough. With travel right around the corner, I considered calling a mobile RV tech, but I didn’t want to look foolish — like the time we called an RV tech to fix a leaky gray wastewater tank valve, only to learn we had two gray tanks. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures I decided to take things into my own hands to see what I could see. Ascending our adjustable ladder at its shortest configuration, I crammed myself into the bunklike top storage compartment at the front of our rig and maneuvered into a sitting position, my feet dangling. (So much for not looking foolish.) A thick layer of (mostly) puffy fiberglass insulation blocked my view. I couldn’t even see past the flatter insulation, the fibers of which had been broken down by water steadily seeping through it. Not willing to deal with any more water torture, I determined to get a better look. Clad in long sleeves, gloves, and an N-95 mask, I engaged our trusty channel-lock pliers to grab the cotton candy-like substance and remove it. A metal beam forming the floor of our bedroom prevented me from sticking my hands in very far to get to the stuff. Able to grab only a small portion at a time, the pliers made for a slow removal process. Taking a break, I noticed a full edge of insulation sticking out on the left side. I grabbed hold of it and, sure enough, was able to pull out a whole chunk — and then another chunk. This left the most compromised portion due to water damage. Little by little, piece by piece, opening and closing the pliers, I yanked it all out. I finally had complete visibility of the plywood forming the compartment ceiling. Finding the Culprit Shining a flashlight across the exposed plywood revealed a clue as to the root of the problem. The passenger side of the compartment clearly showed water spots. I pried myself out of the bay, eager to tell Bob of my findings. As it turns out, red and blue PEX pipes run along that side of the rig from our basement to the washing machine hookups in the bedroom. Opting to forgo an onboard washer and dryer leaves water in those pipes with nowhere to go. We had checked the pipes on more than one occasion. They looked fine and showed no signs of leakage. Yet, every indication pointed to them being the issue. With the sun dipping close to the horizon, I stuffed shammies between the front compartment’s plywood and silver bubble wrap floor to catch any remaining water drops. We headed to The Home Depot to get some shutoff valves for the cold and hot water pipes leading to the laundry hookups. We should have listened to fellow full-time RVer friend Alan when he had suggested that. A Long-Term Solution The next morning, much to my delight, I opened the front compartment and found absolutely no water — for the first time in numerous weeks. This confirmed our theory that the insulation had been slowly wicking away the moisture. We decided to install the valves anyway from our basement as a safety measure. With the city water to the trailer turned off, Bob drained any remaining liquid from the pipes, cut and secured them to the valves, and attached the valves to the rig so that they wouldn’t dislodge the lightweight PEX when Gulliver pulled Tagalong down the road. If it weren’t for the original roof leak that had alerted us to a problem, we may have never known about this slow drip. We’re thankful to truly be above water once again.
You might also like Gulliver Gets a Tow. After driving our fifth wheel RV across the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, we savored a couple of fun-filled days in Ocean City, Maryland, with our friends Frank and Pam. We’ve been very blessed in that wherever we’ve visited, our hosts have wanted to immerse us in their locale to show us why they enjoy the area. Ocean City was no exception. Situated between the Atlantic Ocean and the Isle of Wight Bay, Ocean City is best known for its saltwater taffy and 3-mile-long boardwalk. It’s also the White Marlin Capital of the World. Although we didn’t sample the taffy or marlin, we did visit the boardwalk. Here are three highlights from our time in Ocean City: 1. Assateague Island Part of the National Park Service, Assateague Island National Seashore is a 37-mile strip of land between the Atlantic Ocean and the Chincoteague Bay. It offers a refuge for wild horses and ocean-goers alike, with options for camping, fishing, kayaking, and even driving on the beach. After a day behind the steering wheel, the island provided a welcome getaway. We dipped our toes in the cool sand, walked up to our ankles in the surf, and captured photos of wild horses and deer. Some believe the horses to have survived a shipwreck off the Virginia coast. Although that may be folklore, the horses have proven themselves survivors of the area’s heat, storms, and mosquitoes. 2. Boat Excursion A sunny day provided the perfect opportunity for a boat ride. Watercraft rentals and tours abound. We boarded Frank and Pam’s pontoon boat, along with a couple of their friends, for a private excursion. As the sea sprayed our faces, Frank zipped us across the Isle of Wight Bay and under the Ocean City Expressway bridge. Then he turned around and headed to a popular waterfront eatery that provides mooring and complimentary water taxi service from boat to restaurant. Seacrets offers good eats of salads, sandwiches, and Caribbean specialties in an outdoor, “Gilligan’s Island” type of setting. After filling our bellies, we made our way through the sand back to the water taxi. It whisked us to the pontoon for a pleasant journey back to shore. 3. Ocean City Boardwalk Can you really visit Ocean City without exploring the boardwalk? I don’t think so. As we emerged from the car, screams of excitement and the aroma of fried food filled the air. The boardwalk provides an ideal spot for people watching, with beachgoers tanning and splashing, weekenders flying kites, walkers strolling the esplanade, vacationers looking for a thrill, and shoppers searching for the perfect find.
We steered clear of the touristy amusement park rides but had to try the raved-about Thrasher’s french fries. The fries gave us an excuse to relax on a bench to take in all the excitement. They tasted good, but we didn’t find them all that special. Getting up, we ventured into only a couple of stores. As full-time RVers, we don’t have room for a lot of souvenirs or knick-knacks, which makes window shopping easy. Ocean City provided a serene respite between travel days. We appreciated catching up with Frank and Pam and touring the sights. You might also like 7 Historical Things to Do in Virginia. |
AuthorThis is the travel blog of full-time RVers Bob and Lana Gates and our truck, Gulliver, and fifth wheel, Tagalong. Categories
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May 2024
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