This is the OLD website -- for the NEW & CURRENT website go to LONGLONGHONEYMOON.COM!

Friday, August 31, 2007

The $2 Million RV



“So, what makes an RV worth $2 million?”

Funny you should ask.

Yesterday we toured the Marathon Coach factory in Oregon where they build Prevost conversions. These buses are built in extremely small production numbers – only 70 are made each year. Loaded with residential-class materials, they weigh over 52,000 pounds (by comparison, our unloaded Airstream weighs about 7000 pounds). Their diesel engines are reputed to handle one million miles before they need major servicing. The Prevost bus shells themselves are built to withstand more than a decade of heavy, daily use.

So the next logical question is, “Who buys a $2 million RV?” Other than the Saudi Royal Family, the answer usually runs to corporations. Race car drivers like Danica Patrick and Michael Andretti have one. So do movie stars like Vince Vaughn and Tom Cruise. Or to be more accurate, their respective companies own one. The companies buy the Prevost, and its depreciation becomes a corporate tax write-off. Eventually they resell it. I suspect that once you do ALL the math, it ends up like financing one’s own hotel room (albeit a Ritz Carlton, not a Motel 6).

Of course, some wealthy individuals “with more money than time” make Marathon Prevosts their RV of choice. To these folks, I merely tip my hat and say, “More power to ya.” Everyone at Marathon was really great – friendly, informative, and down-to-earth. The fit and finish of these buses is immaculate and reeks of quality. The chosen materials are truly the best of the best. If you are in the market for a $2 million RV, look no further!

If, however, you simply want to create smiles and have fun, consider restoring a vintage Airstream instead. You’ll turn more heads, and save at least $1.95 million in the process.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Old Friends and New Friends



There’s an old Irish saying that says, “There are no strangers here; only friends you haven’t met.” That’s the way Portland feels.

This portion of our honeymoon journey has been about renewing old friendships and starting new ones. We met many fantastic people here in the Portland area who welcomed us with open arms. Along the way, we attended a Keb' Mo' / Robert Cray concert, enjoyed a scenic boat cruise, observed the best lunar eclipse OF ALL TIME, and consumed copious amounts of micro-brewed "Oregon Iced Tea."

Our blog videos are providing but a glimpse of the full experience. Many thanks to our old friends Gene and Paige, along with new friends Gary, Chris and Cheryl, Mark and Sharon, Andy and Elaine. Your hospitality will be long remembered.

The Airstream is hitched and we’re rolling south. Next stop: somewhere south!

Monday, August 27, 2007

Friday, August 24, 2007

Better Late Than Never



After almost two months on the road, we FINALLY got a “longlonghoneymoon.com” sticker for our Airstream. I wish we’d had it when we started our journey, but we didn't...and there weren't a lot of sign shops in the Rocky mountains.

This honeymoon has been testing more than just our marriage. It’s also a trial run for an Internet “video travel show” project that’s shot, edited, and distributed on the fly. We've encountered a few technical glitches, but so far, so good.

Kristy and I enjoyed our lengthy respite in Seattle. But as Benjamin Franklin famously observed, fresh fish and houseguests begin to smell after three days. We have an amazingly tolerant brother-in-law (or else he's got a lousy sense of smell)!



It's past time for us to ramble on. Our destination today is Portland, Oregon, where we’ll be visiting an old friend.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Space Needling



An ancient Chinese proverb teaches us that “a needle is not sharp at both ends.”

Many Chinese fingers were pricked to uncover this nugget of wisdom.

Monday, August 20, 2007

Confessions of an Addict



The first step toward curing a problem is admitting you have one.

I have a problem. I am an addict. . . and my abused substance of choice is technology. It’s a horrible affliction that wreaks havoc on innocent credit cards.

For most of this honeymoon trip, I’ve been able to escape my illness. In wilderness such as Yellowstone, Glacier, Waterton Lakes, and Banff, stores are sticking with good old-fashioned caveman tech like firewood, knives, and blankets.

Then we arrived in Seattle -- the home of Microsoft, Nintendo, and Amazon -- and I fell off the covered wagon. Even the toilets here are Internet capable! For the past few days, I’ve been constantly exposed to Seattle's technological culture, cruising around town in my sister’s electronics-loaded new car with its lovely . . . GPS navigation system.

Our truck SEEMORE, being a big honkin' workhorse of a vehicle, doesn’t have such fancy gadgets. In fact, its pale green LED dash display has been carefully designed by Ford engineers to be completely illegible. For the past 10,000 miles, our only "navigation system” has been Kristy and a $10 map.

Until now. That smell is melting credit card plastic. Yesterday I surrendered to my basic instincts and bought a "personal travel assistant." This Garmin GPS will, hopefully, guide us home safely. Any device that enhances the safety of RV-ing is probably a good idea. I’ll let you know how we like it.

It’s only a matter of time before our brother-in-law kicks us and our Airstream out of Seattle. Then we’re off to Vancouver!

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Facial Masks and Footwear



Every Airstream comes with an owner’s manual that's thicker than the average Encyclopedia Britannica. In the above photo, Kristy (sporting a “facial mask”) diligently searches our manual for a needle in a haystack – specifically, the identification number of our broken kitchen faucet.

She later found the elusive number in question. If you recall, we need a small piece of plastic. One phone call and sixteen dollars later, that crucial plastic is in transit! If all goes as planned, our Airstream's kitchen faucet will be repaired TOMORROW. That makes me happy (and I'm trying to overlook the fact we were just charged $16 for a 10-cent piece of plastic.)

Crocs

A few months ago, we were browsing a so-called “sidewalk sale” at a sporting goods store. The store not only moved racks of clothing to the sidewalk, they also dumped out a pile of flip-flop shoes called Crocs. They were selling these strange-looking shoes for $10.

The resultant scene was straight out of Discovery Channel: rabid packs of shoppers attacked the footwear like Amazonian piranha stripping a cow to the bones.

Since Crocs looked like useful camping gear, I braved the crazed throng and picked up a pair. Little did I realize these $10 shoes would become permanently welded to my feet. My tan lines tell the tale.




I now understand that Crocs are the biggest thing since The Beatles, the company's stock is more valuable than Microsoft and GE combined, and every child in North America owns at least 30 pair.

But these things really live up to the hype. They are comfortable and waterproof, an ideal shoe for RV-ing. And if you catch them on sale, they cost less than that plastic thingy inside our Airstream kitchen faucet.

----

Tomorrow we spend some quality time exploring Seattle. On Saturday, we'll attend the Mariners - White Sox game!

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

That Perfect Sewer Hose



A few short months ago, I had no idea that Camping World existed. But today I find it physically impossible to drive past one without stopping. Where else are you going to find that perfect sewer hose in a pleasing shade of Airstream blue?

It's an inherent part of the fun of any new hobby, from cars to golf to RVs -- shopping! Now I pay close attention to lots of obscure items that were once meaningless to me.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Sweet Home Seattle



When we began this honeymoon journey, we didn't really have a fixed agenda. But one of our goals was to reach the Seattle area to visit my brother-in-law Wes. We made it last night.

This morning, SEEMORE got a much-needed bath. I also attempted washing the Airstream. There was still junk on it from Florida! And that's Key West sand on the floorboards. All together we've got some 45-feet of RV equipment desperate for a thorough cleansing.

We've crossed 5000 miles on the trip meter and 10,000 on SEEMORE's odometer. Note that this trip meter does NOT take into account the journey from Key West, so we've really traveled in 6500-mile range on our honeymoon.



At the risk of jinxing ourselves, SEEMORE has performed flawlessly. Our truck has tugged the Airstream over many tall mountains with nary a complaint. The turbo diesel power is fantastic. SEEMORE gets a new fuel filter this week; he's earned it.

Several RV'ers have encouraged us to continue north to Alaska. With a "mere" six days of driving, we could find ourselves in Anchorage. Alas, I doubt that will materialize on this trip. While we may visit Vancouver, that's probably the extent of our northward travel on this journey. As Frank Sinatra said, always leave 'em wanting more. Our probable return route will be south through Oregon, California, and the great Southwest.

----

By the way, my sister Beth is not here in Seattle. That's because she's presently serving as a Navy physician aboard the U.S.S. Peleliu. On a goodwill mission, the Peleliu is delivering much-needed medical care to remote areas of Southeast Asia. While we've been "roughing it" by the campfire, Beth has been treating patients in small villages that lack running water, electricity, and bathrooms. Talk about boondocking! Beth is the one who's REALLY living out a once-in-a-lifetime adventure right now!





We will camp here in the Seattle area for several days.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

Rating the Campsites



We’ve stayed at a wide variety of campgrounds on this honeymoon journey. I thought it might be useful to review how they stack up.

Wal-Mart Parking Lots
These are the most expensive campgrounds in America. Granted, the actual site (an unremarkable slab of asphalt on the remote outskirts of a behemoth parking lot) is free. Alas, you inevitably stagger, zombielike, into Wal-Mart--where you spend at least $200.

You also sleep with one eye open, since some of your fellow “campers” don’t appear to actually have an RV. Instead, they’re sleeping in shopping carts. (“Hey, that guy looks a lot like Freddy Kreuger!”)

At Wal-Mart you wake early, thanks to the industrial parking lot sweeping machine that sadistically starts at sunrise. But you welcome this screaming mechanical noise, since it means you survived the night without incident.

We’ve only camped at Wally World once -- in Caspar, Wyoming. Although it wouldn’t be my first (or third) choice, it’s commendable that Wal-Mart offers this service to the American RV-ing public. In a worst case scenario, we can all find refuge in the land of falling prices.




KOA (Kampground of America)
Easily recognizable by the bright yellow sign, KOA is to camping what McDonald’s is to fine dining.

In terms of campground layout, the average KOA is strikingly similar to a Wal-Mart parking lot -- without all the privacy. Let’s just say that whoever designed the typical KOA campground probably spent some time in the sardine industry.

The official slogan is “Great People, Great Camping,” but perhaps it should be “Great Electricity, Water, and Sewer!” because that’s REALLY why you’re here.

You’re certainly not here for trees; apparently they’ve all been chopped down and used for firewood.

KOA offers wireless Internet, but it only works if you hold your computer over your head while standing on a picnic table.

Checkout times vary, but not to worry – a friendly member of the KOA team will be rapping on your door if you are running 60 seconds late.

We’ve stayed at several KOA campgrounds, and experienced a wide range of quality. On a positive note, the pancakes in Missoula are excellent! And I'm certain that kids enjoy the pools, mini-golf, and other activities.

Privately-Owned (non-KOA) Campgrounds
Almost every town has privately-owned campgrounds. Just like privately-owned hotels, the quality varies. Some are little more than glorified parking lots. Others are lavishly landscaped resorts managed by Swiss CEOs on speed.

There’s no shortage of awful private campgrounds, but we’ve had some great experiences with independent operators. The best apply a cozy “bed & breakfast” approach to camping. Here you get full hookups, pleasant wooded campsites, and a relaxed atmosphere. Everybody’s happy!

State and National Park Campgrounds
Thanks to John and Jane Taxpayer, these are the cheapest campgrounds. They also boast some of the finest scenery. Sites without hookups are usually priced in the $15 range. We’ve stayed in some absolutely STUNNING locales in this fashion.

These parks are laid back when checkout time rolls around. What? You’re leaving? Their main concern is that you limit your stay to 14 days. They just don’t want you dropping anchor and living there permanently!

The downside of the “boondocking” (no hookup) sites is the need for water and electricity. With our Airstream, we are self-sufficient on water for 2-3 days at a time. But electricity (the lifeblood of our microwave oven, air-conditioning, TV/DVD, etc.) requires the generator. Most campgrounds have quiet hours (sometimes beginning early in the evening) so you’d better hurry up and finish that movie!

Many parks now offer full hookup sites. Sadly, some of these campgrounds appear to have been designed by a joint collaboration of KOA and Wal-Mart Parking Lot engineers. It’s almost like they want to punish you for wanting electricity.

----

My favorite campgrounds have been the state and national parks. The boondocking sites are consistently pleasant. And if you can find a nicely designed park campground with hookups, you’re in heaven. Stay as long as the law allows.

The same goes for a well-run privately-owned park. And sorry, KOA fans, if I’ve been a little harsh in my comments. Perhaps I’m still bitter about that “friendly” checkout time reminder in Spokane.

We’ve been boondocking in a BEAUTIFUL state park near Leavenworth, Washington. Next we proceed to Seattle!

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Pit Crew Mentality



When we first started RV-ing, setting up camp was an intimidating task. There are several steps involved in the process. The Airstream must be properly parked (sometimes into a tricky campsite), unhitched, and leveled, stabilizer jacks lowered, various hookups connected, the entrance step lowered, and interior bits unpacked. If you hit a snag in any one area, it slows things down. If you hit a snag in MULTIPLE areas…you might as well start packing up again.



With experience, we’ve developed a NASCAR pit crew mentality. I’ve gotten better about the parking process (this is one step you just can’t rush). Once we park, a flurry of activity begins. We’ve learned ways to increase the speed of each task. I have my jobs, and Kristy has her jobs. Now the process goes approximately as fast as the average Talladega refuel. Setting up camp is a piece of cake! Everything is completed in a matter of minutes.

With our power jack back online, I’m once again a happy camper. We’ve enjoyed the autumn-like weather here (sunny during the day, cold at night) in Spokane, but it’s time for us to depart and head towards Seattle.

Friday, August 10, 2007

Airstream of Spokane



Yesterday we strolled into the Airstream of Spokane dealership, requested an arcane jack part, and voila! Not only did they know what part we needed, they had one in stock. I love it when that happens.

Then we enjoyed some great conversation that got me thinking about Airstream and Harley-Davidson. It also brought back some memories.

Almost 20 years ago, I took my first cross-country road trip. My friend Mike and I loaded up my 1985 Honda CRX (the Prius before fuel-efficiency was cool) and headed west. Our chosen route took us directly through Sturgis, South Dakota, during the legendary Black Hills Motorcycle Classic.

If you’ve never heard of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, it is the world’s largest gathering of motorcycle enthusiasts. We’re talking about more than a hundred thousand bikers, each of whom arrive aboard a rumbling mechanical steed. For a couple of weeks, the small town of Sturgis is transformed into a veritable ocean of wailing engines, black leather, scruffy beards, and weathered tattoos.

There was time when I observed those husband-and-wife teams who travel for thousands of miles to Sturgis aboard their Harley-Davidsons, and thought they were crazy. Well, let’s be honest: they probably are a little crazy. But now I admire their insanity. Perhaps Kristy and I possess some small measure of it.

Airstream is the Harley-Davidson of the RV world. Instead of black leather, we Airstreamers wear BLUE RUBBER, in the form of flip-flops and sanitary gloves.

But in all seriousness, there’s a shared cult enthusiasm for an iconic American company. Airstream and Harley-Davidson not only do things well… but they also do things differently.

----

Thanks to the good folks at Airstream of Spokane, our power jack is back online. We’re camping here in Spokane for one more night. Then we head further west towards Seattle.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Paradise for $14 a Night



Approximately 10 seconds after turning onto the poorly marked, unpaved road I suffered my first pangs of regret. We were following a tip offered by a park ranger in Alberta. “If you want nice hot springs,” she said, “check out Lussier Springs. It’s in British Columbia, down near Canal Flats.”

We’d gamely turned on the highway to Lussier Springs, and were shocked by its condition. This was the road less traveled – and for good reason. It apparently was designed to offer the roughest ride imaginable. Our truck and trailer shuddered violently as we were shaken about like an overpriced martini. A chorus of rocks crunched beneath our tires, and bounced off our Airstream with a metallic clang.

After traveling some 10 kilometers at a snail’s pace, I was ready to concede defeat. We hadn’t seen a SINGLE road sign, the sun was setting, and the road was getting worse.

“Should we just turn back?” I wondered aloud. “There aren’t even any signs. We should probably go back.”

Kristy shook her head. “We’ve already come this far, and it would be tough to turn around,” she replied through clenched teeth. “Might as well keep going.”

And so we did. We traveled the full 22 kilometers as road conditions degraded from merely lousy to downright terrifying. At one juncture, we rounded a corner and found ourselves traversing a steep mountainside. The gravel road narrowed into ONE lane. Its edge dropped off into oblivion. There were no guard rails.

Under ordinary driving conditions, this experience would have been nerve-racking. But add an 8000-pound Airstream into the mix, and you might need to change your underwear.

At last, we arrived at the base of the mountain. To my relief, we discovered a couple of small provincial campgrounds. There was one, and only one, site available. “You’d better grab it,” a camper advised. “It won’t last long.”

Using a steel crowbar, I pried my white-knuckled hands from SEEMORE’s steering wheel. We unhitched our Airstream, and -- after uttering a few choice words about the journey -- immediately fell in love with the place.

"This is one of the prettiest campsites we've found," Kristy said.

A beautiful lake was 30 seconds from our front door. Our site was private, shrouded by trees, and so cool we needed to fire up our Airstream’s heat furnace. The nighttime sky was filled with stars that cranked up to extra bright.

And the hot springs? They surpassed our expectations. Unlike Banff’s overrated Tepid Springs (which resembled a warm sulfurous swimming pool), Lussier Springs were truly hot. Steaming waters bubbled forth from rocks, forming a natural spa alongside the frigid river.

“I’ve been coming here for 20 years,” one man said. “This is like our own little secret place. That road keeps people out.”

We planned on staying one night in this totally dry (no water, electricity, or sewer hookups) campground; we stayed two. Sure, it would’ve been nice if we’d brought along some food other than Kraft macaroni-and-cheese. But otherwise, Whiteswan Lake was a boondocking slice of paradise – for $14 a night.

After a much more relaxed drive south, we’re back in the States. Our Airstream is presently parked in Spokane, Washington.

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Sunday, August 5, 2007

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Room with a View



The above photo is a view of our campsite in Canada's Banff National Park.

Windows create a feeling of spaciousness. With this fact in mind, our Airstream is gifted with plenty of glass. Windows wrap around the front of the unit, they grace the sides, and there’s also a skylight. Exteriors are thoughtfully covered with privacy tint, so curtains can be left open throughout the day (even when exiting the shower).



In some campgrounds all of these windows seem a waste, as there’s little to view beyond your neighbors having an argument. Then you find yourself in a place like Banff, and you wish the entire trailer was made of glass.

We’re enjoying a stunning view of mountains in all directions. Here’s an idea of the view looking out our living room window.



I must confess that we knew little about Banff prior to our arrival. But color me impressed.

Kristy has drawn an astute analogy between Banff and Antigua, Guatemala. Antigua is a small, charming town surrounded by volcanoes. Here in Banff mountains loom in every direction (albeit mountains that are less likely to spew forth hot lava).

Thursday, August 2, 2007

The Same, But Different (And More Expensive)



In many respects, Canada feels a lot like the United States. You look around and see the same cars, the same burger joints, and the same movies showing at the theater.

But wait. The temperature is 21 degrees outside? Diesel costs 90 cents a LITER? The speed limit is 110? And THAT guy is wearing a SPEEDO? Canadians use the Celsius system, and the metric system. They speak a lot of French, and wear a lot of speedos.

Browse the shelves of the local grocery store. Amidst familiar brands you may find some surprises – like bags of Frito Lay’s croustilles (potato chips) with flavors like “ketchup” and “curry.” You’ll also suffer sticker shock. Since when did breakfast cereal cost $9 a box?

We had a pleasant time enjoying the civilization of Calgary, but it’s time for more wilderness. Next up is Banff National Park. Kristy seems eager to visit. Perhaps it has something to do with a certain hot springs and spa?

Why Married Men Live Longer



Numerous studies assert that married men live longer than single men. We have evidence this is true in the above video. Single men take more (and sometimes stupid) risks. Had it been solely up to me, I’d probably have pushed further up the trail into Grizzly Town.

A wild bear sighting always gets the adrenaline pumping. Bears are fascinating creatures – primarily because they just might decide to eat you. There aren’t too many animals you can say that about.



Watching wild bears is kind of like climbing aboard your favorite roller coaster. Of course, odds suggest that everything will go smoothly. But what if it doesn’t? There’s always that one-in-a-million chance the thrill ride will fly off the track while you’re hurtling at high speed through some insane corkscrew. That’s why there’s a lot of terrified screaming throughout the ride.

We are presently camping in Calgary, Alberta (Canada) where Kristy looks forward to hiking through several shopping malls. The only bears in this area are of the stuffed teddy variety.

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Life is Like a Slightly Burned Biscuit



In the above video, Kristy talks about cooking in the Airstream. It’s tempting to portray this honeymoon adventure as some sort of fantasyland where everything goes hunky-dory all of the time. But life on the road is kind of like life everywhere. There are spectacular days and average days – and the occasional bad day, when something goes awry.

Our best times recently have been spent exploring National Parks. I love nothing more than hiking into the backcountry and viewing wildlife. It’s also exciting to enter new territory. Now that we’re in Canada, we’re visiting places that are completely new to us, and that is particularly satisfying.

Alas, there have been a few minor annoyances along the way.



Our Airstream’s kitchen hardware is built by Moen and appears to be of high quality. The faucet handle is made of solid metal and weighs about the same as your average steel crowbar! Alas, the entire contraption hinges upon a flimsy plastic internal lever. You guessed it. A couple of weeks ago, I went to turn on the water and CRRRRRRRRRACK the entire handle snapped off in my hand. Kristy had a good laugh over that one. We haven’t been able to repair the faucet yet, because no store keeps that flimsy plastic piece in stock.

Yesterday we encountered another snafu. We’ve got a really nice electric power jack on our Airstream. The jack plays an essential role in the task of hitching and unhitching the trailer. Without a functioning jack, the trailer and truck are basically stuck together!

Like all things mechanical, a power jack is a fantastic timesaver – until it breaks. Due to a little (ahem) “pilot error” on my part, a gear inside the jack is stripped. It’s an easy fix if you have the parts. We don’t, and neither does anyone ELSE in this small, remote corner of Canada. So we’ve converted our power jack to a manual jack, and a job that once took 10 seconds now takes about 5 minutes.

My attitude towards these incidents is influenced by the realities of Murphy’s Law. We’re 4000 miles from home. We’re hauling 8000 pounds of trailer and gear. We’re going to have issues. We just can’t let them spoil our day.

Those slightly “burned” biscuits in the video? They were delicious. :)