Camping on the Gulf

We’ve been looking forward to this final sojourn of 2007 all year long. We are now camping at one of our favorite campgrounds. Appropriately named Camping on the Gulf, it's located in Destin, Florida. We’ve seen some scenic campsites throughout North America, but this one takes the cake. Although the campground itself boasts some decent amenities and a highly professional staff, the obvious draw here is raw natural beauty. (And I'm not talking about my ugly mug.)



Yes – this location is as good as it looks. Our Airstream is literally parked on the beach. If we were any closer to the Gulf of Mexico, we’d be floating. You can lie in bed and listen to nature’s majestic symphony as waves crash to shore. You step from your RV onto powder white sand. And yes, you’ll find that same sand scattered throughout your RV from now until eternity, but it’s well worth it.



We’ve been here before. In fact, this campground was our first major destination in the Airstream. A few short days after we bought our “vacation home on wheels,” we hitched and headed to the beach. You always remember that first camping trip, so we wanted to make our maiden voyage a good one.

We particularly enjoy visiting the Gulf in the off-season, as it feels we’ve got the beach to ourselves. That’s a little bit of Walkabout Wisdom: The best time to travel is when the rest of the world does not.

Even mundane tasks are somehow more pleasant here...

Merry Christmas!

The Hallmark ornament pictured above was a gift from our Airstreaming friends Tye and Emily -- and we also received one from my mother. :-) I guess great minds really do think alike. Honestly, we're happy to have two of these thoughtful gifts. One will go in our home, while the other will reside in our "home on wheels." The detail on the Airstream ornament is fantastic. The wheels turn, and the blue-and-white awning even retracts!



Kristy and I also like that the date is emblazoned on it. Between our Key West wedding and insane honeymooning, 2007 has been a landmark year in our lives. Whatever happens in the future, we'll always look back upon this year as a highlight. We've enjoyed sharing the adventure here on our website, and really appreciate all of the kind comments received from far and wide. As I've said before, positive energy keeps the 'ol blog going. It's been a satisfying creative outlet, and we've learned a lot along the way.

Stay tuned... We look forward to more good times in the year to come. The "honeymoon" is just beginning!

Happy Camper

My love affair with wine began in college. It was there I discovered the ubiquitous Boone’s Farm label, whose rancid swill offers a delightful alternative to Thunderbird, MD 20/20, or even a six-pack of Blatz beer. Take it from me: Strawberry Hill pairs well with Top Ramen noodles.

Some of the finest wines I’ve ever tasted were served at fancy corporate dinners, the kind of over-the-top restaurant meals in which the handmade chocolate souffle cost more than my initial apartment furniture budget. In my heyday, I drank several bottles of wine that were older (and arguably more complex) than Jessica Simpson.

But alas! The problem with most of those rarified upper crust wines is that their branding strategy caters to wine snobs. They all boast elegant family names and tasteful labels that are, ultimately, forgettable. Especially after you’ve downed a couple of bottles. You wake up the next morning, shave your tongue, and mutter, "That was a fantastic wine last night. Wish I could remember what it was called..."

Therein lies the rub: although I’ve drank many fine wines costing more than a full tank of diesel, I have absolutely no recollection of the best of the bunch. Those brands are but fuzzy, pleasant memories rapidly fading in my mental rearview mirror.

Then there are the party wines -- the daily drinkers, if you like. Because these cost around $10 a bottle (give or take a few dollars), they are found in every store. And their branding strategy is designed to impress a mass market consumer such as myself. This often means screaming florescent yellow labels with names like "UNGA BUNGA - the Tribal Shiraz!" The more memorable the brand, the more likely a sober mass market consumer will pick it up for the next party.

Enter Happy Camper -- the first wine brand I've seen that caters to the RV/camping market. The name is brilliant, instantly memorable. The label is its equal, boasting an Airstream-like travel trailer, an aluminum-skinned towable nested somewhere amongst the California redwood trees. On the bottle neck sleeve are camping scenes of (hopefully sober) people canoeing, bicycling, and even piloting a motorboat. How can an RV enthusiast not remember a brand like Happy Camper?

Then there's the wine. As I state in the video review, Happy Camper is a good wine. I daresay that if it were served in your glass at a fancy steak and lobster dinner (the kind with those exquisitely delicate chocolate souffles) you wouldn't skip a beat. Happy Camper may draw you in with the label, but what's inside the bottle will keep you coming back.

The Art of Airstreaming

Airstreamers are sometimes referred to collectively as a cult. While this description is a little extreme -- there are few ritualistic ceremonies beyond flushing the tanks -- there’s no doubt that Airstream owners are passionate about their iconic silver trailers. Thus it only makes sense that Airstream-themed artwork would gain an audience.

This Grand Haven Tribune article about artist Mary Sundstrom is interesting on a couple of different levels. First of all, Mary's an artist who courts the Airstream niche, and does so quite nicely. That’s one of her pieces above. You can check out her website here: Airstream Art Studio. She sells prints on eBay (just search for "Airstream art") and even does commissioned pieces.

But what really grabbed my attention was the story of Mary's own Airstream find. She bought a sadly neglected 22-foot Safari model for a mere $400! Then she plowed her time and energy into the restoration effort. There's a certain style about the vintage trailers that is truly timeless, and Mary's Safari is a good example. After fresh doses of tile, paint, and exterior polish, it looks beautiful.

The Airstream brand is often viewed in luxurious, upscale terms. That’s because the newer ones are priced well into the lower stratosphere. Just looking at those MSRPs may induce nosebleed. But in reality, Airstreaming is not a life of champagne and Grey Poupon. Club membership is open to anyone with a few hundred dollars and a willingness to work.

Gee... No, GPS!

Our truck SEEMORE has the subtlety of a sledgehammer. A mountain of gleaming non-aerodynamic metal, it's pretty much devoid of technological gadgetry. The 1980s-era LED dash display is illegible in all conditions except total darkness. One suspects that Ford engineers would’ve preferred installing an 8-track cassette deck, but reluctantly switched to a CD player after considerable pressure from marketing. These sins are forgivable because the gargantuan diesel engine is capable of towing the Statue of Liberty over Mount Everest without skipping an 11.8 MPG beat.



My love for technology and gadgets is well documented. I’m usually an early adopter when it comes to this stuff. Confessional case-in-point: in 1995, I made the unfortunate decision to install Microsoft Bob on my PC. We can't be absolutely certain, but I think I was the only person in North America to install Bob. I know I'm the only person who will admit doing so.

Still, I somehow refrained from taking the GPS plunge – until our Airstreaming honeymoon. After driving around North America for two months with a ratty old $10 map, I finally surrendered to my technological desires and bought a Garmin Nuvi 660 GPS system. Simply stated, it changed our lives along with our credit card statement. The resultant question was not, “Why the hell did we buy this thing?” but rather “Why the hell did we wait so long to buy this thing?”

Of course, in the comfort of your own hometown, you can probably (hopefully?) make it down to the grocery store and back without some fancy gadget leading you by the nose. But suppose you are 1000 miles away from familiar streets…it’s dark…you have a flat tire…and you’re looking for that international camping haven known as Wal-Mart. Just type “Wal-Mart” into the Garmin and you’ll find the nearest one. No phone calls, no guesswork, no hassle. A GPS is not only a timesaver, it’s potentially a lifesaver. You might make an occasional wrong turn, but you’ll never really be lost if you have one of these gadgets. This totally changes the tenor of the classic American road trip.

Our GPS has a zillion other features with varying degrees of usefulness. It broadcasts audio over our truck speakers via an FM transmitter. It has a very nice Bluetooth cellphone connection, so you can gab on your cellphone hands free. And it plays audiobooks seamlessly, even pausing the books when offering spoken directions. I haven't tried every GPS out there, but this Nuvi 660 model has been named one of CNET's editors’ best GPS navigation systems. So don't take my word for it; take CNET's.