#22: Camping with Corona?

You may not have heard, so let me catch you up; there’s a pandemic afoot.

The whole world has gone mad for toilet paper and handshaking is becoming an archaic greeting of days past.  Basketball and Baseball have been cancelled, and Tom Hanks is in quarantine with Wilson.  Schools are closed and workers everywhere are discovering the bliss of working from bed in their underwear.  Italy is a red zone and Europe has been effectively cut off from the USA.  Many Americans are now living in toilet paper forts with hand sanitizer moats.  What even is normal anymore?

Here in the mountains life is much the same, until the last few days.  With the spread of the virus taking over, the pandemic is even becoming evident in our tiny little community of Blairsville, GA.  All local schools have been shut down and parents seem to be bulk buying liquor and wine.  On a trip to Home Depot earlier this week to get some basic DIY supplies for the camper I was met in the parking lot with panic buyers toting supply carts piled high with mega packs of toilet paper – a behavior that is terribly puzzling to me.  

I left Home Depot to get some gas (now hovering around $2.00 to the gallon, the silver lining of all this) and get a couple of bits for dinner from the grocery store.  It seems people had lost their minds there, however, as upon arrival I found the parking lot slammed full of cars and a long line of cars waiting to get in.  The gas pumps were no different and I had to wait 10 minutes to get gas.  With a hungry baby in the back seat and lunch time fast approaching, I decided it was best to abandon the grocery run in the interest of not compromising the kid’s nap time, which I have come to hold dear to my sanity.

In the last few days I have watched as other full time RVers across the country have been posting about the eviction notices they’ve received from the RV parks who are closing due to the Corona virus and State parks have now shut down in several states.  This has been cause for concern for us, as we never factored such occurrences into our plan when we set out on this adventure 6 months ago.  While we do have options – mostly because the very nature of our existence is mobile and therefore we’re easily relocated – it’s still unsettling and would interfere with Chris’ business and our overall plan. 

But c’est la vie.  It could always be worse.

And for a while there it was worse.  After Christmas, as previously mentioned, Junior and I caught the flu.  This was a dark period in the history of our RVing adventure, and one which we hoped would pass quickly.  

But as the weeks went by I struggled to recover.  I suffered with significant congestion, blinding headaches, exhaustion, chest pain, and brief periods of losing my voice.  It was endless and relentless.  It made no sense.  Chris wasn’t getting sick, Junior had a runny nose but otherwise seemed ok.  I’m generally a healthy person – I eat well, I drink lots of water, and I’m usually pretty active.  But this thing was not shifting.

I won’t lie, there were moments where it had crossed my mind that this could be the infamous virus that was afflicting me. With the CDC having sent out faulty tests for COVID-19 for so long, there was no real way of telling where the virus had spread to, and there have been a number of confirmed cases in Georgia and recently one death from COVID-19.

Then one night Chris and I were lying in bed watching a movie.  I stretched up and ran my hand along the back of the mattress and a chill ran through my body.  I felt the blood rush through my belly and I sat up.  

“Get up” I said to Chris.  He looked a little puzzled.  “I mean it; get up.”

“What is it?” He said wearily pulling himself up out of bed.  

“Damp.”  I said flatly.

We stood up and pulled the mattress off the platform of the bed and there, clear as day, was the answer to that incessant question: why can’t I get well?

Mold.  Every RVer’s worst nightmare.

As mentioned in a previous post, moisture is the enemy of all RVs.  It destroys a rig fast and, as we learned the hard way, can destroy your health even quicker.  

Oh my god, I’ve been sleeping on it.  EVERY NIGHT.

Everything made sense.  I had been telling Chris that when I came outside I often felt a little better and the congestion would at least ease up.  But there were so many days where I woke up feeling so terrible that I didn’t feel up to even stepping outside for a cigarette.  Chris had even had to do the daycare run for me when I was really unwell.  Now it was clear that it was a vicious circle whereby the worse I felt and the more I rested to try and get better, the worse I would feel because I was resting on the very source of my illness.  Chris hadn’t been getting sick because he was allergic to mold like I am, and he wasn’t spending even half of the time in the RV that I was.

I felt nauseated looking at it.  But I felt relieved that now we knew and maybe I could finally, FINALLY get some relief.  

We spent the next few days and a few hundred bucks getting some supplies to tackle the issue.  We had naively believed that running the dehumidifier 24/7 would be enough to rid us of any chance of mold growing.  It turns out that was a costly mistake.

We scrubbed the mattress several times with rubbing alcohol and propped it up daily to dry with the windows open and fans running.  We ordered 3 vent covers for our roof vents (like plastic skylights).  The vent covers allowed us to crack the vents open, even in the rain, without the risk of rain coming in through the vent.  This seems to have made the biggest difference to the air quality inside the camper.  I spent an afternoon up on the roof, with the help of a maintenance guy from the park who is a friend of ours, installing these on the vents.  

We also got a Den Dry mattress underlay.  It’s about an inch thick, made of spun plastic, and sort of resembles bubble wrap in its shape.  The purpose of it is to lift the mattress off the platform and allow airflow between the two to prevent condensation from getting trapped and creating a breeding ground for mold.

Lastly we purchased an air purifier.  This filters out the mold spores, dust, pet dander, pollen, and all other yucky things from the air so I can breathe a little better and sleep a little easier.

It’s been about 2 weeks since all this happened and I am almost back to normal now, with only mild congestion and a lingering cough.  It feels wonderful to finally have my energy back and be able to do things with ease again.  It certainly makes life as Mom to Junior much more manageable – it takes a great deal of energy to keep up with that kid nowadays.  

Once again it seems we had to learn valuable lessons the hard way.  While the mold, the endless rain, and the looming threat of invasion from the corona virus has certainly placed a significant black cloud over the winter of 2019/2020 for us – our first winter in the camper – we have still managed to weather this storm intact as a family.  

Chris has worked hard through the winter and come home each night to take over baby duties and look after me.  We have addressed the issues within the camper and learned valuable lessons on how to proceed through the winter in a rig.  If COVID-19 does displace us then, even in the worst case scenario, we will embark on an adventure to Tennessee and take the opportunity to spend some time with family.  The beauty of our situation is that it allows us to adapt more readily to whatever life throws our way.  If things fall apart in Georgia we can fall back on Tennessee.  If things fall apart in the US then we’ll haul our home up to Canada.  With just a day’s notice we can relocate ourselves wherever necessary and make an adventure of it.

For now though, we’ll take a deep breath of clean air, stick with a normal amount of toilet paper, and proceed with business as usual until we hear otherwise.

Finally feeling better, at Brasstown Bald.

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#21: I’m still alive

This winter has been the winter to which all future winters will be measured against. We have endured the flu, colds, sinus and ear infections, stomach bugs with some serious vomiting, a motorcycle accident, snow, then 70 degree sunshine, then torrential rain and flooding, tornado warnings, then more snow, and a dangerous lack of hiking and fireside time.

It’s been a rough go round, but we’ve survived this far and I’m fiercely clinging to the notion that spring time will bring brighter days.

We knew that putting Junior in daycare would result in exposure to more germs and thus lots of sick days, but this has been a real shock to the system from a kid who never had so much as a runny nose for the first 12 months of his life. But he has been a real trooper through it all and I’m delighted to say that he’s faced it all with a cheeky smile and an undying love for his dog whom he snuggles with daily.

Chris gave it a good old college try at scaring me half to death a couple of weeks ago. Junior went down for a nap one afternoon and Chris decided it was a good time to go for a ride on his motorcycle. I rolled my eyes and begrudgingly gave him a goodbye kiss. Not 20 mins later I got the call that I dread receiving every time he goes riding. But it wasn’t quite how I’d played it in my head 100 times before.

“Hey, what’s our permanent address?”

“Why?”

“Just give me the address!”

Oh god, he’s been pulled over for speeding. I’m gonna kill him. How many bloody times have I told him to be bloody careful on that bloody…

“Ok, I need you to come and pick me up, I’ve had an accident.”

I believe my heart may have actually stopped had he not been on the phone and talking to me. This one fact is about all that kept me together as I woke the baby from his nap, strapped him into his car seat, and tried to keep my hands from shaking as I drove down the mountain anxious to see what condition my husband was actually in.

As it turns out, Chris was downtown (thankfully) when the accident happened. An old man failed to look before pulling out right in front of Chris. With no time to react he slammed right into the side of the car and flipped over it. His hips and groin slammed into the handlebars and seem to have taken the brunt of the blow. Miraculously, however, he suffered relatively minor injuries compared to the many scenarios that had played in my mind before. Though badly bruised and barely able to walk, he suffered no broken bones and I cannot overstate how thankful I am that my husband came home that day.

Chris being Chris, he immediately started talking about getting another bike that night. We very rarely argue at all nowadays, but I sure felt one boiling up with that statement. Sure, I have compassion and empathy for the loss of his hobby and I understand that everyone needs a little escapism now and then. But it’s time to get a new hobby.

Despite emotions being high, we managed a calm and open discussion on the issue. We arrived at the compromise that Chris would use the insurance money to get a boat. This way he would have his “toy” to go and have some Papa time with, but this toy wouldn’t cause me extreme anxiety every time he wanted to use it. Though Chris is still grieving the loss of his dear machine (that we got married on), it’s a compromise that we both feel pretty good about. And I promised him that one day there would be a day, when Junior is much older, where I would definitely be on board with getting another motorcycle or two.

So all this to say: winter 2019/2020 has been a bugger. But we are all still here and all still together, so life isn’t so bad. The last couple of months have been very trying and admittedly has caused, at times, some resentment for living this lifestyle. But with spring around the corner and a new adventure at Black Rock Mountain on the horizon, I’m desperately hoping it’ll bring a renewed appreciation for our lifestyle.

Until then, here are a few snaps that I’ve managed to take on the odd days where I’ve felt somewhat human and been able to drag myself outside for some gentle hiking therapy.

Clouds rolling through Vogel at Lake Trahlyta.

Sunset over Lake Trahlyta

Foggy morning at Lake Trahlyta.

The same foggy morning at Lake Trahlyta.

If your eyes are open to it, there is beauty to be found even in the dreariest of times.
Lake Trahlyta.

#18: Merry Mountain Christmas

I love the Christmas season; the lights, the hustle and bustle, the excitement, the smells of Christmas spices like cinnamon, ginger, and cloves, the Christmas trees, and yes, even the Christmas music.  I love egg nog, I love the cozy, dark nights snuggled up to keep the cold away, I love the classic Christmas movies and all the wonderful things that come with this time of year.

But the last couple of Christmases have been a little derailed. On December 1st 2017, after 3 negative pregnancy tests, I stopped at the grocery store on my way home to pick up some egg nog. I called Chris on my way home and told him to be ready to go pick up some rum after I got home so we could get drunk on egg nog and listen to Christmas music all night. But I was still a week “late” so I figured I’d take another pregnancy test before we left to put my mind at ease. I figured it was the stress of the possibility that was disrupting my cycle. But as I washed my hands and turned back toward the pregnancy test that was sitting on the edge of the tub I saw a very distinct little pink line that would put an end to our rum and egg nog plans for the night and change our lives forever.

I walked out of the bathroom with one hand over my mouth and the other holding the pregnancy test outstretched toward Chris.  He rolled his eyes, thinking I was pulling his leg, and snatched the test from me with a smirk on his face.  It’s rather rare to witness the sudden genuine drop of someone’s jaw and the widening of their eyes as panic surges through them.  Had I not been experiencing that same emotion I probably would have found it much more amusing.  

We sat on the couch in silence for around 10 minutes before Chris finally piped up: “well, there goes my hunting room then.”  

That Christmas the pregnancy hit me so hard that I spent the entire day just as I did most others that winter; sleeping all afternoon, then waking for dinner before my eyes got so heavy that I was out cold for the night by 8pm.  It wasn’t much fun for either of us.

Christmas 2018 was mildly better, but much more stressful.  We had recently endured the most stressful and scary spell of our lives after I lost my visa, job and health insurance while 8 months pregnant (see my previous post …And When it Doesn’t). Immediately following that debacle, we had found a house to rent in Lawrenceville, GA which was far from ideal but at that time it was what we needed – a roof over our heads.  Unfortunately, shortly after we moved in in late September I began getting rather under the weather and it wasn’t until Chris took some boxes down to the basement that we discovered water and black mold all over the entire 1200 sq ft basement.  This was particularly distressing with our 2 month old baby breathing in that air.  We informed the management company, Progress Residential, who told us we’d have to move out while they were remediating.  This meant digging into what little savings we had to pay for somewhere to go, but the management company had agreed to reimburse us.

So we moved out into an AirBnB place.  Then a few days turned into a week, which turned into 2.  Before we knew it we had blown every last penny of our savings and were dangling by a financial thread before they finally completed the work and we moved back into the house in November.  What followed was a rather long and incredibly frustrating struggle with the management company as they withheld our reimbursement and threatened eviction if we refused to sign a document saying that we couldn’t sue them for anything related to the damp or mold issues.  My refusal was borne out of an unwillingness to be strong-armed into signing away any possibility to recover in case our infant son developed any health issues related to the exposure, and the fact that we had no health insurance.  But eventually we had no choice but to sign for fear of being evicted – which was the most pressing issue.

By the time Christmas came around we didn’t have a penny to our name as the “reimbursement” came in the form of a rent credit so we still had no money in the bank.  Lean as it was, we still managed to enjoy each other’s company and I cooked some very mediocre turkey breasts.  But the whole season was overshadowed by the dark cloud of being stuck in a house that I still didn’t feel comfortable in and being tied to a management company that was crooked and underhanded, not to mention the extreme financial turmoil.

So this year we finally have earned a good Christmas.  But living in a camper makes some of the aspects of a traditional Christmas rather difficult.  A tree, for example, is a little difficult to have when you’re in such a tight space.  While I’ve seen other folks that manage to pull this off, it just wasn’t an option for us in our rig with a toddler who loves to grab, climb and chew.  We also had no decorations in the rig which made me a little sad at times because I do love Christmas decorations.  

You can also go ahead and cross “traditional turkey dinner” off the list, as the oven in our rig (and most rigs) is marginally bigger than a shoe box.  Plus, for two of us it seemed like overkill and a royal headache of dirty dishes in a tiny kitchen.  

But a Christmas without those things made me a little blue, so I thought outside the box a little bit and searched around for something fun to do in the local area.  A few years ago, when I first arrived in the states, I had been to a conference at Brasstown Valley Resort and Spa, just a few miles down the road from Vogel at Young Harris, GA.  I remembered how beautifully they had decorated the place for Christmas, the huge stone fireplace, and the incredible views of the Blue Ridge Mountains from the Veranda.  So I had a look on their website and found that, as luck would have it, they did a Christmas Day buffet for $52.95 per adult and $10.95 for Junior so I called and booked the last available table for 3:20pm on Christmas Day.

Christmas morning I awoke, as always, at the crack of dawn and far too excited for someone my age.  I shook Chris awake who was displeased at this and told me to go back to sleep until the baby wakes up.  So I laid there impatiently staring at the clock until I decided that Junior needed to get up anyway or else he wouldn’t nap.

After Junior and I dragged Chris out of bed we FaceTimed with our families and opened our presents (technology sure is a wonderful thing for stuff like that when you live far away from everyone).  Chris then cooked us a scrumptious breakfast of scrambled eggs, sausage and bacon before Junior went down for his afternoon nap.  I took this opportunity to see to my hosting duties and gave the bathrooms a good clean.

Unfortunately Junior didn’t nap long as he was fighting off a cold that he had picked up from one of the kids at his new daycare.  So with a rather cranky baby we set off for Brasstown Valley for our Christmas Dinner.  

The view from the entrance of Brasstown Valley Resort.

The hotel is nestled in the valley just below Brasstown Bald, Georgia’s highest peak. The resort boasts an impressive 523 acres, stables, a championship golf course, a pool and spa, and unbeatable scenery. The lodge, where the main dining room is situated, is very grand with soaring ceilings, an incredible stone fireplace, and large windows that look out onto the veranda and the mountains beyond. The whole lodge is tastefully constructed to resemble a grand cabin in the woods, with sawn log bannisters, exposed beams, and exposed stonework throughout the building.

My favorite feature – the beautiful stone fireplace.

The dining hall at Brasstown Valley Resort.

The Christmas tree in the main lobby and bar area is about 20 feet high, lavishly decorated, and excites the inner child with a hand crafted wooden rocking horse, a giant nutcracker, a giant wooden Choo-choo train, and other antique toys that contribute to the overall magic and make for another beautiful backdrop for family photos.  

The gorgeous Christmas tree complete with antique toys and gifts.

Despite me talking the place up for the last week, Chris was still pretty impressed once we arrived.  We made our way to the dining room and got settled at our table before tucking into the delectable buffet.  

Buffet, for me, is a word that conjures images of greasy sub-par food that is even less appealing because it has been sat under hot lamps for hours. This, on the other hand, couldn’t be further from that image. On offer was a full Christmas carvery of roast turkey or beef, stuffing, gravy and all the trimmings. There was also a salad bar with actual fresh salad greens like rocket and arugula – no iceberg lettuce in sight. There were pasta salads, green beans roasted in cranberry sauce, roasted potatoes, and a seafood bar with peel and eat jumbo shrimp, seafood salad, and fresh oysters on the half shell.

Unfortunately we weren’t able to sit and savor the gluttonous offerings for too long, and didn’t even get a peek at the whole separate room they had for desserts, for our wee lad’s health was deteriorating into a full-blown cold and he was getting so fussy that we just couldn’t sit and let him ruin everyone else’s meal anymore.  We still got a pretty decent fill, however, so we took the chance at some fresh air on the balcony just in time for sunset.  

Drinks on the balcony.

The warm glow from the setting sun radiated across the mountains on the horizon and at about 68 degrees Fahrenheit (about 20 Celsius) with the gentle tickle of a warm breeze, it was a very romantic end to a pretty wonderful day. We took a walk down to the sunset veranda, and chatted about what a dream it’d be to come back without Junior and spend New Years Eve here. We stopped to snap some pictures and really take in the sunset before finally heading back to the truck to go home.

Junior getting a good look at the beautiful sunset.

That night we got Junior into bed and retired to the campfire with wine to reflect on the day and relax.  We had planned to play a new National Parks Trivia game that I had gotten for Chris, but the sound of a sick baby awoken with a fever beckoned us back into the camper for a night of snuggles on the couch and temperature readings every few minutes.

Despite the damper on the day with Junior being under the weather, it has still been the best Christmas we’ve had together yet and there was much to be thankful for; some kind of financial stability, a great marriage, a beautiful place to live in a glorious mountain setting, and one beautiful little boy.  Christmas 2019 was definitely one to remember.

#17: One for the Family Album

I wrote out an entire post about how we had the Christmas tree lighting event at the park, hiked up to Preachers Rock as a family, and checked out a nearby diamond in the rough. But I realized, upon proof reading it, that the events were best told in photos. So enjoy.

Around 200 people gathered at Vogel on Saturday for the annual Christmas Tree lighting event. It all went down at the ball field, less than 100 yards from our campsite which was wonderfully convenient.

Various tents gave away free baked treats, hot chocolates, and crafts for the kids.

Santa made an appearance. Assistant Park Manager Mikayla was much happier to visit with him than Junior was.

Live local music.

Junior had a blast puddle stomping.

The 30ft Christmas tree after the big lighting.

Junior stole the show with his adorably uncoordinated dancing and had the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand.

Sunday afternoon we took a hike up to Preachers Rock – it was much more fun as a family. Junior was quite mesmerized by the view and Chris was delighted that I insisted he ride his motorcycle to take advantage of the 20 miles of twisting and curving mountain roads.

Father and son against the world. Insert appropriate Lion King quote here.

Chris had a rare early day on Monday so we took the afternoon to explore a little spot up the road from us that we’ve been wanting to check out for weeks. Helton Creek Falls is a mile up the main road then 2 miles down a gravel road. It’s definitely a diamond in the rough.

It’s a beautiful spot that strikes a perfect balance between rugged wilderness and accessibility thanks to some minor man-made adaptations.

At the bottom of the first set of falls (a little over 30 feet). The swimming hole here looks like the perfect place to cool off in those scorching summer months.

The upper falls – about 60ft high. Also looks very inviting for summer swims.

We even found a Junior-sized waterfall (yes he got soaked but he had a BLAST).

We finished off the weekend with a great meal at Brother’s restaurant in Young Harris, GA.

Junior couldn’t believe they didn’t have breast milk on the menu. He wanted to complain to the manager but we convinced him to just go for grilled cheese and mashed potato instead.

Sharing his dinner with Papa. Great family weekend.

#16: Reflections on a Rock

Most days are much the same lately.  I get up with Junior, we hang out and have breakfast, then head out to work or go on a little walk around the park.  Around 11am we come back to the camper for elevensies, a little indoor play, then it’s nap time.  After his nap, it’s lunchtime, then more walking/outdoor play, then home for dinner, indoor play, Chris comes home, bath, and finally bedtime.  The “new car smell” of Vogel has all but dissipated, and while I still love it (especially compared to the city) I have explored much of the park and am no longer surrounded by the unknown.  This coupled with the monotony of the daily routine and Chris working hard, and often late, on his current job means that I’ve once again begun to thirst for adventure.

I love staying at home with my son and watching him grow, but a year and a half without any kind of break from him, except for a handful of times where family have stepped in for a few hours, has taken its toll on me.  When we lived in the city it wasn’t an option to pay for childcare – we simply didn’t have the money.  It was either have childcare for a day or eat for a few days, so there was no point even dreaming about it.  But our new lifestyle means there’s a little wiggle room in the budget for a day care a couple days a week.  My husband, being the supportive and loving old sod that he is, has been pushing for this for a few weeks now.

I really struggled with the idea of it at first.  I felt like I was failing at my job, because it is my job, after all, to care for my son.  So putting him in day care felt like admitting that I can’t handle motherhood.  But once Junior’s molars started pushing through I realized that it was time.  The lack of “me” time left me irritable, impatient, and not the most loving of people.  I was tired from getting up with the kid several times a night, I wasn’t eating most days because I didn’t have time, I wasn’t getting a shower during the day – my overall self care had gone down the drain and my family had begun to pay for it.

So it was time.

I found a day care in Blairsville, about 20 minutes down the mountain, and called them.  As luck would have it, though they had a long waiting list, they agreed to squeeze us in because we were flexible.  After a visit to check the place out and sign some papers we were all set for Junior’s first day of day care.

This morning I dropped him off shortly after 8am.  He seemed pretty happy, though a little confused and shy, but I didn’t stick around long for fear of making it harder to leave if and when he started to have a meltdown.  I slipped out while he was distracted and my heart broke just a little when he didn’t notice, even though I know it’s really what is best for us both.  As I walked out the door and got in the truck I took a deep breath and tried to shake it off and look at the day ahead.  What shall I do with my 9 hours of freedom?

It was an easy decision.  Hiking had been on my mind since the day we pulled into Vogel and I had a bucket list of local hikes that I was itching to try.  There was one in particular that I had my eye on: Preachers Rock on the Appalachian Trail.  It looked like a relatively short and easy hike – perfect for an out of shape Mom-bod that hasn’t seen any real trail action in years.

So I drove back home, trying very hard to not keep periodically glancing in my mirror at an empty baby seat out of habit.  I wasted no time at the camper, I made some coffee, grabbed a bite to eat, threw some supplies in a backpack (eager not to repeat my last hiking disaster), grabbed my camera, and jumped back in the truck.

The trailhead begins at Woody Gap, a roughly 25 minute drive up the mountain on very narrow and winding roads.  The sun was shining and, though it was a few degrees below freezing, it was a beautiful day for such a drive.  

Devon had spent the ride, as always, laying on the passenger floorboard trying not to fall asleep.  I watched as his heavy eyelids drooped making his grey face look even older.  It reminded me of the old days when he was a pup and we lived in Athens.  He was my faithful hiking buddy back then and would leap excitedly and nimbly into the truck every weekend, eager for our next adventure.  But the black markings on his face had since turned to grey and lately his leaps lacked the spring of his younger years.  I wondered if he would be as excited for a hike as he used to be.

I arrived at the trailhead around 9:30am.  The elevation at the trailhead was 3,160ft and the view was incredible.  I knew that the hike would involve a further climb from there so this little teaser was exciting.

Woody Gap – the trailhead.

As I put the truck in park, Devon’s little head perked up and his now wide brown eyes scanned the surroundings as his tail began to wag.  He leapt out of the truck with all the vigor of his younger self and he waited for me to give the command that would let him run free.

“OK!”

He sprinted ahead down the trail and I chuckled as he frantically zipped around from exciting smell to exciting smell.  It almost felt like old times.

It was a calm morning and though the air was crisp and cool, the sun felt warm on my face.  The lack of any breeze meant it was blissfully quiet and I relished the absence of a screaming child.  As we rounded the first corner we came to a mossy rock face about 20 feet high and 50 feet across with 10 inch icicles clinging to the protrusions in the rock.  I don’t know why but I love icicles – I just think they’re really cool – so I pulled out my camera for a few shots.  But as I turned it on I was greeted with the message “no memory card” on the viewfinder.

Come on.  Seriously??

I had remembered to charge my camera.  I had remembered my lens.  I had neglected to put the damn memory card in the camera.  Rookie mistake.  That’s two for two.  Frustrated, I took a minute to express my frustrations toward the rock face, which kindly echoed my profanities back at me, making it all the more satisfying.  But I didn’t want to let it ruin my day of freedom, so I resigned myself to the fact that I’d just have to snap some pictures with my phone and come back when I was better prepared.

My sub-par pictures of icicles with a mediocre camera.

We pressed on, Devon leading the way with his soft little ears happily flapping up and down as he bounced along. The trail was surprisingly flat and easy to start out and there were some pretty views to the left through the trees across the mountains. Then the trail wound around to the right between the two peaks and into the wind. The deceptive calm of the northwest side of the mountain had lulled me into a false sense of security and as I left the shelter of the first peak the wind arrived with an icy punch. I took a second to appreciate its force, zipped up my fleece and shoved my hands into my pockets.

This is going to get chilly.

And it did. The trail began a steep incline up the second peak. The last 1/3 mile or so had an elevation gain of 500 feet and my wobbly, unfit legs felt every step of the rocky climb. The wind roared with such force that every tree was creaking and squeaking as they swayed in the bitter breeze. The higher I climbed the more vicious the wind grew until it became impossible to keep my eyes open without them tearing up.

The climb.

Eventually we made it to the top.  As I rounded the crest of the mountain the view was spectacular.  Mountain peaks stretched for miles, and the clear day meant that I could see all the way to Stone Mountain, near Atlanta, on the horizon.  Both Devon and I stood on the rock face and soaked in the view.  It’s the kind of sight that is so spectacular that you are forced to contemplate the earth as a planet and are starkly reminded of your tiny insignificant existence on it.  I sat and pondered all the life beneath me at that moment and how unaware it was that I was there.  A wave of awe came over me and I had to sit down.  

Devon soaking in the view and contemplating the big questions in life.

We spend all our time so consumed in our little lives that when moments like this do come along, these big picture moments, it snaps you out of your little world for a second and makes you really look at life for the fleeting thing that it is and appreciate it all the more.

I wish Chris was here.  

I knew he would love it just as much as I did and I wondered what big picture thoughts he would have upon seeing the view.  So I called him for a quick FaceTime, but the view on a small screen with a lens that pales in comparison to the human eye meant that it just didn’t have the same effect.  

I wonder what Junior is doing.

Funny.  I’ve been dreaming of getting away from the kid for weeks now and having some time to myself.  I’ve cried as Chris held me and told him how I just need a break.  I’ve spent weeks thinking about all the wonderful things I would do with just one day to myself to do whatever I want on my own time without anyone else to worry about or work around.

But all I can do is wish that the two people I love most were with me.  I guess that’s my big picture moment.  I came for escapism, a chance at recapturing a simpler time when it was just my dog and me against the world – but wound up finding that I no longer wanted that.  I remembered how many times on those hikes in the old days that I wished I had someone to share it with, and I guess that hasn’t changed much.  Except now I had a husband and a son whose company enhanced every great moment – even if they annoyed the heck outta me sometimes too.  So I took a second to be thankful that I now had two wonderful people in my life that I wanted to share everything with.  And though I knew the hike would be better if shared with them, I was still grateful for the space to gain that perspective.

I sat for a while on that rock with Dev just thinking about life and all the incredible and beautiful things in it, including that spectacular view.  I was grateful to be able to do that, and grateful for the company of my old four-legged friend.  But as I set off back down the mountainside the only thought left in my head was how I can’t wait to come back with my family. 

#15: Camping with Cousins

This weekend we had a much needed visit with family.  Chris’ cousin, Caitlyn, her husband, Justin, and their two young children came to visit.  It was a relatively last-minute thing, and it turned out rather well.  There was a break in the rain and cold weather which afforded a brilliant opportunity for them to bring their kids, aged 2 and 5, camping for the first time.

They drove down from their home in Nashville, TN and arrived late in the afternoon on Saturday.  The kids were, as all kids are, immediately struck by excitement upon exiting the car.  They scurried around the campsite helping their Mom and Dad to find a good place to pitch the tent and inspecting our set up.

After we exchanged hello hugs and had the customary exchange about how the drive was, they quickly set about unloading the car and getting the tent erected before the sun disappeared over Blood Mountain.  Chris tried his best to spook the kids with stories of bears and coyotes that come sniffing around in the dead of night, but I think he only succeeded in spooking Caitlyn and Justin a little.  

With relative ease and only one minor error with the rain fly, the tent was erected and we were all ready for the best of camping – campfire sitting.  I had laid a fire that afternoon in preparation for their arrival so with a quick flick of a lighter we were in business.  The kids were pretty taken with fire, but Jay (the 2 year old) was particularly entranced by it.  Once he discovered the sheer delight of putting a stick in the coals until it was alight then waving it around he was in hog heaven.  Of course this set off a chain of events leading to some increased parental supervision and some lessons on the dangers of campfires, but the kid needed no further entertainment for the night – he was set.

Annabelle is their older child.  She’s incredibly sweet and dangerously intelligent with a thirst for knowledge that makes her an utter joy to hang out with.  Several times throughout the night she came and climbed into my camp chair with me for a snuggle and said “let’s talk”.  Then she proceeded to ask questions.  ALL the questions.  

“Why does water put fire out?”

“Why do trees grow taller than people?”

“What are stars?”

“What are those dark spots in the moon?”

“How long does it take for the light from the stars to reach here?”

“What is consciousness?”

That last one was a tough one.  But she’s a smart cookie and was able to not just sit and listen to my responses, but actually understand them and explain it back to me when I asked.  It was really fun to spend some time with her and see her learning about the world from a different perspective.  It made me excited for when Junior reaches that age where he will be full of questions big and small, and hopefully many of them about wildlife, the woods, and the world.

Unfortunately we had some trouble getting Junior to stay down that night (probably too excited about his cousins visiting) and so Chris and I had to keep taking turns trying to get him back to sleep.  But we were able to spend some time by the fire chatting and catching up.  I truly believe there is no better way to spend time with people than relaxing around a campfire.  It was nice for us to have some family around to share our new life with, where conversation comes easily because we have common interests and outlooks, and it was an adventure for everyone.

The next morning the campers piled into Old Patsy to defrost after a rather chilly night in the tent.  The kids went pretty much straight to playing and exploring and Junior was particularly tickled at having another little boy to play with.  It was nice to sit back and watch them with the hope that it’s the start of a lifelong friendship and that there will be years of getting into mischief together ahead of them.  

After everyone was suitably thawed out and fueled up, the campers set out for a hike around the lake while Chris and I plonked Junior in his stroller to set about cleaning the bathrooms.

Their hike went well without only a minor incident involving Jay’s shoe being launched into the water (boys will be boys).  So after they returned we got the fire going again to get Jay’s shoes dried out.  Caitlyn and Justin also brought a slack line – something Chris and I had never tried before – and set it up between two trees at the back of the campsite.  We each took turns attempting to find our balance on the narrow, taught strap – something that wasn’t very easy after a night of a little too much wine and beer – but it gave us all a good laugh.

The younger boys found great fun in picking up sticks, poking at the fire, and using a small multi-tool shovel to dig in the dirt.  Junior seemed to be rather intrigued by his cousin and spent some time following and mimicking him in an adorable attempt to try and communicate with him.  Annabelle pottered around the campsite and tried her hand at the slack line which put us all to shame.

Then Caitlyn showed Annabelle how you bust open rocks with a hammer and find geodes and pretty crystals inside.  So they had a great time smashing up some rocks and inspecting them closely.

As the afternoon drove on though, it was getting late and time to pack up and head out.  The kids were thoroughly exhausted and set to nap the whole way home with sweet dreams of campfires, waterfalls, and mountain trails winding through their heads.  

It was wonderful for the kids to spend some time together.  Living so far away from all our family means that we don’t often get to hang out together – so we don’t take these opportunities for granted and are grateful that Junior is able to form bonds, and eventually memories, with his cousins.

As for us, we had a blast running around with the kids and are so grateful to be a part of their first camping experience.  We hope it’s given them a thirst for it and that they will nag their parents endlessly to come back to the woods for a weekend soon.

We were also grateful to spend some time with Caitlyn and Justin.  A downfall of this lifestyle is that it does take some determination from family to have them come and stay.  We don’t have a big spare room that they can stay in and, though the couch and dinette fold into beds, it’s tricky with a 1 year old sleeping 3 feet away from 7pm to 7am.  So it requires visitors to either be willing to camp, or spend the money on a cottage.  This makes it logistically tough for anyone to visit us, so we’re very grateful for the company when we can get it.  But the flip side of this is that when a trip like this happens it’s nice to have the kids outside all day, learning, getting fresh air and exercise, and being stimulated without the need for screens.

We’ve made tentative plans for a return trip in the spring before we leave Vogel, and hopefully we can get someone here to take all 3 kids for a night so we can all do the 13 mile Coosa backcountry trail and do some REAL camping along the way.  So that gives us something to look forward to.

Overall we had a great weekend with family; the kids got to make some memories together and hopefully thoroughly caught the itch to camp; we had a great night catching up with some quality time around the fire; and we got a taste for what it’ll be like when Junior is a little older and all the fun things we can do with him.  But time flies when you’re having fun – and it did just that.  So we hope it won’t be too long until they come back for more fun by the campfire.

#14: The Courteous Camper

Anyone who has done the grunt work – whether it be washing dishes in a restaurant, making the coffee in an office, or doing the housework at home – you know that it is all too often the most under-appreciated work.  There’s little to no reward and it sucks.  It’s usually unpleasant and almost always taken for granted by everyone around you.  Worst of all, it’s often only noticed when you don’t do that work.

But much to my surprise I have found that the work I do here at the park – at least at Vogel – doesn’t always go unnoticed.  In fact I’ve been rather delighted to regularly receive anything from a brief “thanks” in passing as I’m lugging a mop bucket around, down to a heartfelt “thank you” for my hard work and a lengthy praising at how clean and wonderful the park is.  

On my last rotation I was lucky enough to receive 3 heartfelt thank yous from campers as I was hard at work scrubbing bathrooms while simultaneously singing sea shanties to Junior who was growing impatient in his stroller.  

The first was a middle aged woman looking to use the bathroom block that I was cleaning.  She courteously asked which of the 4 bathrooms was best for her to use to avoid walking all over my freshly mopped floor.  I think I visibly sighed with relief as she asked me this, for I had twice re-mopped floors that morning after ignorant campers had walked straight past the “wet floor” signs and muddied my pristine floors.  I told her that there should be one almost dry on the other side that she could use.  She told me that she was happy to wait for it to dry, then proceeded to thank me for working so hard to keep the bathrooms clean.  “It’s really wonderful to have such nice bathrooms to use, we sure appreciate the work you do.”

The next was a middle-aged man tending to his tent pitched on a site near the bathrooms I was cleaning.  He stopped me just to say thank you for volunteering and doing what I do.  He said it was “refreshing” to see someone as young as myself getting my hands dirty for free (figuratively speaking, that is – I do wear gloves).  He seemed to really mean it though, not just an off-hand “thanks” but more of a “hey, THANK YOU”.

The third was a woman who had just gotten out of the shower and was headed back to her camp when she noticed me and said “thank you for keeping the bathrooms so clean, I just had my first enjoyable shower in a campground and didn’t feel disgusted by the bathrooms at all.”  Anyone who has had the displeasure of using campground bathrooms knows what she meant by it.

It’s a really nice feeling to be appreciated, even for such menial work.  It irks me sometimes to know that I worked my butt off for a law degree and fought hard for years, giving so much of myself to the cause of justice – long hours, evenings and weekends, not to mention the emotional toll – just to now be slinging a mop and cleaning poo off of toilet seats.  To say that this work is as fulfilling as capital defense would be a lie, but I’m also at a point in life where I need to do what is best for my family.  So if peeling used sanitary pads off of walls and digging out ash pits will give my family a better life and my son a better start then I’m game.  Sure I miss a good courtroom brawl now and then and occasionally I’ll sneak a peek at court dockets to see how my old cases are doing, but I’m glad to be where I am in life right now.

Occasionally there are days where I mutter about those darn kids that throw toilet paper on the floor and day dream about days where I used to put on a suit and got to use my creative intellect to solve a problem that could actually save someone’s life as I hose down some lad’s ill-fated attempt to reach the urinal from 10 feet back.  And who wouldn’t resent the work they do when it involves scrubbing shit stains off the underside of the front of a toilet seat – because HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN??  Seriously, if you are pooping on the UNDERSIDE of the FRONT of the toilet seat then you need to revisit toilet training 101 and have a SERIOUS talk with your mother about why on earth she skipped the part out where she teaches you to poop IN the toilet.

But I digress.

My point here is that we should all take a minute to appreciate the grunt workers.  I have to admit, even as someone who does such work, I am particularly bad about this.  In the last couple of months it has occurred to me that I am one of those people that almost never even acknowledges the cleaners, the janitors, the custodians, the “little people” whose work I benefit from but rarely say thank you.  Paid or unpaid, these people weren’t born thinking “when I grow up I want to clean up other people’s trash for minimum wage or less”.  Some may be trying to work their way up, some may have disabilities or personal circumstances that leave them with limited employment options, some may be former-lawyers who are doing this work for the betterment of their family life.  

So the next time you use a public restroom or a go to a park: pick up your litter, leave the bathroom as clean or cleaner than you found it, treat the facilities with respect. And if you encounter the poor soul charged with the arduous task of maintaining the facilities then take a second to thank them and squeeze out a smile – it won’t kill you, and it’ll probably make their day.  And for god’s sake, try to aim INTO the toilet.

#13: Snow Day

Last night as we were getting into bed I did the mandatory weather app check.  

“There’s a 30% chance of snow at 7am.”  I said excitedly.

“Ah, that won’t amount to anything.” Chris said dismissively.

Though I knew he was probably right, the optimist in me wanted to believe it so I gave Chris strict instructions in the event of snow.

“If you wake up in the morning for work and you look outside and there’s snow I want you to come in here, jump on the bed and shout “SNOW DAY, SNOW DAY” over and over.” He rolled his eyes and gave me a sarcastic “ok” before giving me a kiss goodnight.

I awoke in the morning to the sound of Chris’ alarm, which seems to more be my alarm to wake Chris up.  I gave him a loving kick and mumbled something about getting up.  I heard him shuffling around and drifted back to sleep as he drearily went about his morning routine.  

“Babe.”  

I was drifting in and out of my dreams.  I could hear Chris’ voice pulling me out of my dream and into reality.  I snuggled into my pillow tighter, trying to fight my way back into my dream.

“Babe, it’s snowing.”

“You’re a liar.  Go away.”  Yes, I am very pleasant in the morning.

“Ok, but it’s snowing and everything is white.”  The realist in me knew he was probably just messing with me but the optimist in me, who is apparently a 5 year old child on Christmas morning, sent a surge of excitement through me and willed my heavy head to lift from the pillow and peek outside.

SNOW!!

It wasn’t a dream, my husband was not the liar I had accused him of being, it really was snowing!  I jumped up and made my way around the camper opening blinds and taking in the beautiful wintery scenes from every window.  It was only a light dusting but it was the first snow of the season, and of Junior’s life.  I considered the fun of bundling the boy up and seeing his face as we stepped out into the strange new powdery world.  I was giddy as I began making coffee and cereal.  

Junior was still sleeping soundly and, against my better judgement I began being louder and louder as I went about my work to try and get him to stir.  But alas, he sleeps like his mother – dead to the world – and didn’t care that I had now opened the curtain on his bunk, turned the radio on, and turned the lights on.  I climbed in his bunk and gently called his name.  He smiled but never opened his eyes.  Finally I began gently tickling him and he began laughing before he finally opened his eyes.  

As I brought him to the window, he stood staring with a perplexed look on his face.  He smiled and pointed then looked at me, wonder in his eyes.  It was now time to power through breakfast, get dressed, and get out into the snow.  

As Chris left that morning I asked him if it was wise to try and get to work in this weather.  The roads have not been salted yet and the forecast suggested that the temperature wouldn’t get above freezing all day.  This coupled with the fact that, to get to work, Chris had to go up the mountain before going back down the other side concerned me.  Those icy winding roads flashed through my head and I asked him once more to stay home.  But he shrugged it off, kissed me goodbye, and headed to work.  

As I fed Junior his cereal he kept his eyes on the window and the flurries that whirled in the wind outside.  It brought back a fond memory I have from my childhood.  I remember waking early one winter morning at our home on Vancouver Island in Canada to my Mom gently waking me.  As I rubbed my eyes, confused as to what was happening, she whispered that it was snowing and I ran to the window to see.  I remember how magical our front yard looked with a white blanket of snow and the snowflakes silently drifting through the calm air.  Though Junior won’t remember his first snow, it still makes me smile that maybe he has the same sense of wonder as he looks at the snow outside.

Just then, the door opened and Chris stepped in.  Apparently after a few minutes of trying to get to work he had decided that it was in fact not sensible to attempt to go up the mountain in this weather.  It was official – this was our first official snow day and we were snowed in.

After breakfast we all bundled up tightly, pulled on our boots, and headed out to explore the wintery scenes.  Junior giggled with delight as Devon sprinted around happily through the snow and the leaves.  Junior shrieked with delight and trudged through the snow and leaves after Devon.  

Junior in his snow gear.

We wandered down to the visitor’s center to say good morning to the ranger and the ladies that work there and grab some hot chocolate and coffee to warm up.  Refueled, we set out to walk around the lake to get some pictures of the mountains.  Though it wasn’t a heavy snow by any means, it was still a pretty scene with a light dusting and a gentle mist drifting through the peaks.  

A very light dusting on the Wolf Creek bridge roof.

Snow dusted peaks over Lake Trahlyta.

Snow dusted Blood Mountain.

But about halfway round the cold wind really started whipping and Junior still hasn’t mastered the art of gloves. To him they are a cruel torture device that hinder his ability to grab, pick up, and explore with his favorite tools. His refusal to wear them, however, means that his hands quickly went numb and bright red, which led to tears and cries for warmth, so we rushed home to defrost with snuggles on the couch.

It’s now 11:30am and the snow is still coming down hard and fast.  It’s not quite cold enough for it to settle on the ground properly but it’s enough to get me excited about the season.  I’m a sucker for egg nog, Christmas music, Christmas lights, hot apple cider, mulled wine, and snowy scenes that make everything look like a Christmas card.

We hope that this is a taste of things to come and that soon enough Junior will be throwing snowballs and building a snowman.  We are both really looking forward to the lake icing over, the snow capped peaks, the snow angels, the snow men, and all those wonderful things that winter in the mountains brings.  We’re grateful for the lifestyle that we chose that allows us to spend a winter in the mountains and a summer by the lake.  Today though, I’m most grateful for a snow day.

#12: Zen and the Art of RV Maintenance

“Absence of Quality is the essence of squareness.”

Life in an RV is very different to conventional living.  There are adjustments to be made in both the physical day-to-day living, but also in terms of one’s mentality.  Some differences are obvious and readily identifiable by merely looking at any rig.  Others are more subtle and take careful research and consideration to avoid costly mishaps.

Campers are, undeniably, small and cramped. Therefore a drastic reduction in one’s things is absolutely essential to make such a venture as ours successful. We spent about 3 months painstakingly sorting through each and every single item we owned from every drawer, closet, and cupboard. We sold, gave away and threw away more than 2/3 of everything we owned. The rest was either put in our camper or put in our 10×15 ft storage unit in Clarkesville, GA.

Even with all that hard work, we still would have appreciated another month or so to go through everything thoroughly as we were somewhat rushed when it came to crunch time and therefore our storage unit looks like a small third-world country after a natural disaster.  My number one tip to anyone considering simplifying their life would be give yourself time and start ASAP, it will take a lot longer than you think.

We did carefully consider every item that we brought into the camper, but even so, we have ended up with clutter and mess everywhere you look (hence no pictures of the inside of our camper as yet).  I have organized and reorganized but the trouble with campers is that they are not really designed to live in, but merely to vacation in.  Therefore it requires a fair amount of reworking and adapting your space before you move in to maximize your use of it.

In our old camper we had time to do this before we moved in. We had about an hour to move everything we owned from Old Jessie into Patsy, so as you can imagine it was a bloody headache to get it all straightened out when we got back to where we were staying.

“The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There is no other test. If the machine produces tranquility it’s right. If it disturbs you it’s wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed.”

Living in a camper also requires an adaptation of your mindset.  By choosing this lifestyle you are also choosing to live without many modern conveniences that you may have grown to love, or even depend upon.  The biggest conveniences that I miss are a dishwasher and a washer/dryer.  

In the first few months of our marriage, we were very nearly torn apart by a lack of a dishwasher.  About 3 months in I put my foot down and bought one.  We laugh about it now but the struggle, at the time, was very real and arguments about dishes came close to ending our marriage in the early days.  I therefore had a great deal of trepidation about electing to subject myself to living in close quarters without such a vital lifeline for our marriage.  As it turns out, however, we have grown significantly since then.  That coupled with the fact that I don’t work full-time anymore so have more time to actually do the dishes, means that there is only mild name calling and only rare death-threats related to someone not doing the dishes.  

Another consideration when moving into a camper is the bathroom.  This is an important one to some and should not be glossed over in the decision-making process, both with choosing this lifestyle and with choosing a rig.  Bathrooms are TIGHT spaces in rigs.  They are, by no means, luxury spaces and are designed to simply allow you to take care of your basic personal hygiene.  Women: if you can’t live without 3 bags of make-up, 4 different hair styling appliances, and 18 cans and bottles of lotions and potions then this life is NOT for you.  I did have a large collection of such things prior to taking the plunge but I really only had them because we had the space for them (sort of) and I rarely used most of it anymore, so it wasn’t hard to part with the vast majority of it.  

Even so, the bathroom is tiny and there is not a lot of room for drying off after a shower or getting dressed.  We did, however, elect for a camper with a small tub.  This tub would be entirely impractical for either of us unless we felt like sitting in 10 inches of water with our knees pulled up to our ears.  But for our 1 year old who LOVES bath time – it’s perfect.  For long, hot showers on those frigid winter days however – don’t count on it.  The hot water lasts about 10 minutes in the shower; long enough to do what you need to do, but not for a good soak in scalding water like I love to do.  If you’re really hankering for a long, hot shower, then there are bathhouses at each park.  But, depending on the park, you may have to put up with poor drainage leaving you standing in a lake of your own and other campers’ filth, or generally old and unclean bathrooms.  The bathrooms here at Vogel are rather nice and so occasionally we will pop in there for a long, hot shower.

Water is an RVer’s number one enemy.  Living in a camper is a constant battle against moisture.  Roofs on RVs require regular inspection and maintenance to prevent the seals going bad on the rubber membrane, pipes and hoses are subject to regular inspection, and winter months in particular bring the need for constant diligence.  We check the weather daily and monitor for incoming or potential freezes.  When it even comes close to freezing at night we fill our fresh water tank and disconnect our city water connection to avoid a burst hose.  We also make sure to turn our space heater off or down (which we use in above-freezing temperature to save on propane, as electricity is free to us hosts) and switch over to propane heat.  Our propane heat is ducted and therefore forces heated air into the underbelly of our camper where our pipes, hoses, and holding tanks are.  Failure to prepare in this way for an incoming freeze could be disastrous and VERY costly.

Then there is the added annoyance of condensation.  In the colder months it is simply not possible to live in a camper without a dehumidifier.  Ours runs constantly through the night when temperatures are below 50 degrees Fahrenheit.  If we turn it off then within 30 minutes or less there’s water dripping from the windows and down the walls.  Improper management of condensation leads to mold, and mold can render a camper uninhabitable fast. The underside of our mattress is a particularly troublesome area which we addressed in late winter 2020 by adding a den dry mattress pad, maxx air vent covers on the roof, and foam board insulation into the pass-through storage below our bed in order to prevent moisture and mold not the bottom of the mattress.

Managing the tanks is another ordeal. Even with full hookup sites as hosts, we still needed to monitor the tanks several times a day as newbies. Leaving the tanks open leads to nasty sewer gas creeping up the hoses and into the camper – it smells bad and can set off the propane alarm. So instead we remain hooked up to the sewer but only pull (release) the tanks as and when we need to; usually once a day or every other day.

We have 3 tanks to pull on our camper. We have one grey water tank at the front which holds everything that drains from the kitchen sink; one grey water tank at the back which holds everything that drains from the bathroom, and the black water tank which holds everything that drains from the toilet. The grey water tank at the front has a sewer connection near the front of the camper, whereas the bathroom grey water and the black tanks share a sewer connection at the back (but have their own respective levers). We therefore have to have 2 sewer hoses joined to a wye connector and an elbow that is attached to the sewer line.

Seasoned full timers will tell you to ignore the infamously inaccurate sensors and instead develop a sixth sense for full tanks. The black tank, for us, needs to be dumped once a week, the grey tanks usually every 2-4 days.

We recently learned how delicate these sewer hoses are.  After a hard freeze lately, Chris noticed that the slide topper (an awning over our slide out that prevents water and debris from building on top of the slide itself) was sagging.  This concerned him, so I told him we should just pull the slide in to knock off the leaves, debris, and maybe water that was sitting up there.  So I opened the window on the slide, he stood out there to watch and make sure we weren’t going to hit or crush anything and I stood inside to operate the slide switch.  What we neglected to do was disconnect and move the hoses, which turned out to be detrimental.  As I pulled the slide in, a sheet of ice still present on the slide topper fell like a guillotine and sliced both sewer hoses clean in half.  Luckily the tanks had just been pulled and so we didn’t have to rush to Walmart until the next day to shell out another $100 to replace both hoses.  Lesson learned.

We also had a bad pipe connection on our outdoor kitchen in our new camper recently.  Within a week of having it I opened the compartment door for the outdoor kitchen to find half an inch of water at the bottom.  Upon closer inspection we found that, because the, this water had slowly crept from the outdoor kitchen at the back of the camper along the wall through the pantry, behind the kitchen cabinets, and into Chris’ sock cupboard in the bedroom.  This calamity took 2 trips to home depot and an unexpected day off work for Chris.  It wasn’t the most fun Sunday we’ve ever had.

Then there’s the kitchen.  This is a constant source of frustration for me.  As previously mentioned, I have a strong loathing for doing dishes by hand.  The trouble with this is that they can build up in the sink.  Being that the kitchen is so tiny, this means that the presence of dirty dishes in the kitchen immediately renders the kitchen virtually unusable.  So it requires a level of discipline that I have yet to master.  

The lack of space also means that we had to drastically thin out our collection of pots, pans, and kitchen gadgets. This, however, turns out to be something I am very grateful for, as I now realize how much of all that stuff I neither used nor needed. But lack of pantry space has been a difficult thing to overcome and we are still fighting that battle.

The next area that has proven most problematic for us is clothing storage.  I am addicted to thrift stores.  RVing does not lend itself to this lifestyle.  Since marrying Chris I have gone from over 150 pairs of shoes to just 20.  In preparing for this adventure I also donated 8 large trash bags full of clothes.  But lack of well-designed clothing storage means that we are constantly wading through the many clothes that are bursting from each closet and shelf.  On top of that, there is zero built-in storage for junior’s clothes or toys.  We have resorted to storage baskets of clothes haphazardly placed on the top bunk but it’s impractical and messy so finding a better solution is top of our to-do list.

Another area for serious consideration when living in a camper is the unavoidable fact that the thing moves.  Living in something that moves means that everything gets jiggled around, twisted and jolted.  More than once we have arrived at our destination, opened the door, and found that things had been thrown off shelves or out of cupboards, or that things have started to fall apart.  Luckily we’ve only suffered one broken plate so far, but that is because we take care to take the TV in the bedroom off the wall before moving, strap the living room TV to the wall, push totes on the top bunk away from the edge, and remove things from shelves that could fall while in transit.

There’s also an inherent lack of privacy in a camper. Probably not such an issue for a couple that has been together for some time, but certainly could be problematic for anyone who isn’t very, very comfortable with their partner. I have too often been cooking dinner in the kitchen or been sat on the couch writing when the bathroom door, 5 feet from me, swings open to reveal Chris sat on the toilet who asks “whatcha doin’?”

There is no escape from each other in a camper.  This is fine for us, we are quite happy living in each other’s pockets and rarely feel the need to have time away from each other.  But getting quality time away from the baby can be tough, even after he goes to bed.

Everything is easily heard throughout the camper so we have a noise machine playing white noise in the kid’s bed throughout the night, plus we put the radio on in the living room (3 feet from his bed) to drown out the sound of us talking or moving around.  But sudden noises outside or a late night knock on the door from a camper in need of help means the dog will bark and the baby WILL get woken up.  Occasionally one of us will drop something or otherwise cause a raucous which will upset the delicate peace of a sleeping baby.  Thus we spend most of our evenings outside by the fire or in the bedroom watching a movie in bad weather.

Overall, however, Junior is becoming pretty accustomed to the noise of living in a camper and is becoming a fairly heavy sleeper now.  The other day, while Junior was napping, I watched Hacksaw Ridge, a WWII movie featuring loud and graphic battle scenes which were especially loud coming through the surround sound on the camper, but Junior didn’t even stir despite the blood-curdling screams and the deafening explosions.

The sum of these factors can make for rather difficult living. But proper research, regular maintenance, and due diligence ensures that the lifestyle is not as complicated one might think, and in many ways is much easier than living in a house. The trade off here is that you end up with a dramatically lower cost of living (the payment on our camper is less than $300 per month and we have no rent or utility costs), it takes less than an hour to deep clean and organize your entire home, and you naturally just spend way less time inside whiling away hours binge watching Netflix and spend more time outside engaging with each other and exploring.

“We’re in such a hurry most of the time we never get much chance to talk. The result is a kind of day-to-day shallowness, a monotony that leaves a person wondering years later where all the time went and sorry that it’s all gone.”

For our son this means that in his most developmentally formative years he is outside every single day for hours playing in the woods, talking and interacting with other campers, and learning at an astounding rate. For Chris, it means a significantly lower financial burden which allows him to work less, take days off more frequently (means more family time for us), and not be subjected to the horrors of Atlanta traffic ever again. For me, it means less time cleaning and organizing, more quality time with my son, less driving around or spending money just to keep him occupied, and more time enjoying life. Hosting further allows me to regain some of my identity outside of motherhood and do something else meaningful.

The success of embarking on this adventure, at least so far, is due in no small part to the timing. If we had attempted this a year ago when we had 2 dogs that didn’t get along it would have been a catastrophe of epic proportions and someone likely would have ended up in hospital. Had we attempted it right after we got married, it would have ended in divorce and/or criminal charges. If we had waited too long until Junior was in school then fear of it being too big of an undertaking and upheaval would have prevented us from ever trying.

“Is it hard? Not if you have the right attitudes. It’s having the right attitudes that’s hard.”

Beyond timing and preparation, the fundamental requirement for this lifestyle is the right attitude and values. Consumerism has no place here. We, as people, are happy to sacrifice wifi, television, abundant indoor space, and some modern conveniences in order to preserve what is really important to us; being together. Valuing these things highly and not wanting to give them up doesn’t make you a worse or bad person, but it does mean that you have no business even considering this lifestyle. Conventional living allows your world to revolve around those things now, and while there are so many awesome and incredible things that come from that, it comes at a price that we are just not willing to pay.

It’s a question of quality. If quality of life to you is dependent upon the quality of your wifi, cell service, and modern conveniences then this would be utter misery to you. But if quality of life is dependent upon time spent with your family, exploring nature, and simplifying – and you would be willing to sacrifice the consumerism and commit to the regular maintenance – then it is time to buy an RV.

“The place to improve the world is first in one’s own heart and head and hands.”

*All quotes are from “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” by Robert Pirsig

#11: It’s a Hard Life

I’ve been working here at Vogel for 2 weeks now and have worked as a camp host for 2 months.  I had anxiety about any form of work after being a stay at home Mom for a year and a half now.  I had the return-to-work jitters that took a minute to wear off, but I really feel like I’m getting into the swing of it now.

I have almost completed two full rotations of work at Vogel.  I work 4 days on and then have 4 days off.  The work is definitely tougher than at Tugaloo but the 4 days off make it a lot easier.

Each day of work begins as any other: my wonderful husband wakes me with hot coffee and, if I’m lucky enough, a bowl of cereal which I end up sharing with Junior who lights up at the sight of the bowl, stomps over, frowns, points at the bowl, and opens his mouth.  He gets his eloquence from his father.

After getting dressed and wrestling the reluctant child into some clothing and then his stroller we walk the 1/3 mile to the visitor’s center to pick up our list for the day.  On brisk mornings I have a neat little sleeping bag for Junior complete with holes for the stroller straps.  It’s waterproof, lined with thick fleece, and zips up to his nose, so he stays toasty and looks like an adorable little eskimo.  This usually catches the attention of the campers who are bustling around the campsite, and most mornings we’ll stop for a chat with one happy camper or another.

At the visitor’s center we spend a few minutes catching up with the ladies there including one Ranger who Junior has taken a particular liking to and will channel his inner Chris Seeley charm to coax smiles and giggles from her.  Once the ladies are thoroughly smitten, we grab our list and head off to work.

The list consists of 2, 3 or sometimes 4 pages of incoming and outgoing campers for the day.  It details which sites need to be prepped for campers arriving before their 3pm check in (though most come early) and which sites need to be cleaned up after campers check out at 1pm.  Prepping the sites and cleaning the sites are largely the same thing and consist of leaf-blowing (an arduous and never-ending task at this time of year), picking up any litter, and cleaning out the fire pits of excess ash or trash.  Being that 9am is a little early for the irritating whine a leaf blower, we begin by cleaning the bathroom blocks.

Vogel is a large park with 4 “loops” and 4 bathroom blocks.  We are responsible for 2 of those loops; the first standard campsite loop and the walk-in site loop.  Standard campsites consist of pull-through and back-in campsites with electric and water hookups and a picnic table – there are 31 on our loop.  Walk-in sites can be accessed by foot only and are for tent campers looking for a more primitive setting, and there are 16 of these.  Loop 3 is another standard campsite loop with 29 sites across Wolf creek toward the back of the park, and loop 4 consists of 25-foot sites for smaller campers – of which there are 23.  Another set of hosts is responsible for loops 3 and 4.  Our neighbor and fellow host is responsible for our loops on my days off.

Cleaning the bathrooms takes about an hour for each block and is usually a pretty easy task.  I bring Junior in his stroller and he happily jabbers away telling me nonsensical stories while I set about my work.  Most days I get compliments from campers on the cleanliness of the bathrooms and my ability to balance a 1 year old and my volunteer duties.  I do believe that Junior’s presence invokes a certain sense of sympathy from the campers as they pass by and this makes them more likely to be respectful of the bathrooms and the park in general – after all, who wants to make more work for the struggling mother who volunteers to clean bathrooms at the state park?

Around 11am, bathrooms clean, we head back to the camper for Junior’s lunch and nap, though he sometimes falls asleep during the bathroom cleaning.  While he’s napping I grab the opportunity to do some dishes, have a tidy up, and, if I’m lucky, I’ll grab a quick shower.  When Junior wakes up, usually after an hour or 2, he has a quick second lunch and we head back to work.  

On weekdays the list can take as little as an hour to complete, but on weekends it can take much longer.  My first Sunday here had me going non-stop from morning until sunset trying to get through the list and blow leaves off the roads.  Of course, this was the peak leaf-changing season and so it seems to be gradually getting slower since then.

To complete my list with Junior in tow I usually opt for the backpack carrier, as he is usually tired of the stroller by now.  It can be pretty rough on a busy day with the weight of him on me as well as the leaf blower and we will usually cover a couple of miles like this.

It is also my responsibility to stock the firewood and ice at the visitor’s center throughout the day which can be laborious, especially on busy nights in the colder season.  I’m fortunate that the hosts on the other loop are kind enough to take over that responsibility for me most days.

After our work is done for the day we are free to spend the afternoon as we choose.  Most of the time I get Junior out for a run around to burn some of the energy he has pent up from being strapped to either a stroller or me all day.  This is usually when some friendly campers will stop me for a chat.

Most people tend to be quite curious about us.  Most campers come to state parks often, and Vogel is a park that many return to time and time again.  Some of the regulars have been coming here with their families for generations.  Being that we don’t fit the usual profile of campground hosts, this sparks curiosity and thus conversation.

Last week I finished blowing the leaves off the last site on my list when a camper began talking to me.  He was sitting in a camping chair on the neighboring site with his wife and they were enjoying the peace and quiet before I came along.  He was friendly and inquired about how I managed to balance my responsibilities, I told him that it wasn’t terribly difficult most of the time – but it definitely required some tact.  He asked about how we had come to be hosts and before I knew it I was sitting with them drinking hot tea and they were playing with Junior as I told them my life story.  

Larry and Pat were from Louisiana and had been married a long time.  Pat was a retired school teacher and Larry was retired from the insurance business.  It was Larry’s idea to get the camper and Pat, not much of an outdoor’s woman, seemed to try her best to enjoy the excursions they take in order to be a supportive wife.  They were a very sweet couple who I found very easy to talk to.  We shared many of the same world views and they admired the lifestyle that we have chosen for our son.

I spent about 2 hours chatting with them that day, and returned each day until they left to swap stories and enjoy each other’s company.  

On the day they left I wasn’t working so I took my time getting out of the camper. By the time I did, Pat and Larry were all but packed up and ready to hit the road. Pat’s face lit up when she saw us walking down the road and it was clear that she had begun to feel disappointed that we might not come and say goodbye – until we showed up. She gave me a big hug and expressed how nervous she was about the drive back down the mountain. I tried my best to reassure her by reminding her that millions of people go RVing ever year and many of them are a lot dumber than her – so if they can do it then so can she. She leaned in close and told me in a hushed tone that she had forgotten to get her jewelry out of the drawer but that it couldn’t be accessed while the slide was in so she was dreading telling Larry that he’d have to put the slide back out. I giggled and told her that she’d better do it sooner rather than later, as he was about to hitch the rig and lift the jacks.

She turned and called to him: “Larry!”

Pat’s voice seemed to cut through Larry and he slowly turned and poked his head from behind the camper.  He looked at Pat and shuffled over to me.  He leaned in and said “When she says “Larry!” like that, I shudder.”  Then he smirked and turned to Pat who gave him an endearing eye roll.  I chuckled.  I liked them a lot; they were polar opposites in some ways but they seemed to love each other dearly and make an effort for each other even after all these years.  She was still fearful of disappointing him and he was happy to do things at her pace. Pat told him she had left her earrings in the camper and that she needed him to put the slide back out and retrieve them for her. He sighed, smiled sweetly and said “of course, dear”.

It makes me think of Chris and me.  I think I hold him back from really running head first into adrenaline and risk sometimes because I’m such a nervous Nelly, but he seems to genuinely be ok with going a little slower sometimes or passing up the odd adventure when I’m feeling particularly anxious or uneasy.  In turn I try to push myself a little more and step outside my comfort zone so he doesn’t have to choose between me and whatever adventure he has his eye on.  I think it’s something that is important to any marriage; it’s the need to gauge each other’s comfort levels and never stay too firmly in them but never force the other too far out of theirs.  Pat and Larry seemed to have that down.

After I hugged them goodbye and Junior blew them kisses we continued on our walk through the park and around the lake – a walk that has become something of a favorite.  I took yet more pictures of the lake – something which I didn’t think I would spend so much time doing.  But every time I walk that same trail around that same lake I catch a different view.  When the sun catches the leaves in the morning the mountains turn a beautiful golden color that glows against the blue sky and illuminates the landscape with a peaceful aura. The afternoon sun seems to catch more of the reds and oranges giving the hillside a more lively energy.  But when a storm is moving in and the dark clouds begin to gather around the mountains and creep down the peaks casting shadow over the lake, the scene becomes an entirely more sinister and foreboding one.

Having snapped my pictures, I headed back to camp for snacks and playtime.  Along the way I bumped into Jason, a fella that I had been seeing around the campsite the last few days and exchanging pleasantries and idle chatter with.  He’s younger than the usual weekday camping crowd by about 25-30 years and was visiting from South Florida with his wife, April, and their 2 young daughters.  April’s mother and father, Sandra and Jerry, who live close by, were also camping at the park.  Jerry and I had also chatted a few times and I liked him a lot too.  In fact I adored the whole family.  These people were not the kind of people that you can take a disliking to – they are some of the most likable people I’ve ever met.  Each time we passed by them in the park they would take the time to ask how we were, see what we’ve been up to, and would also ask about things that we had talked about in previous conversations.  Jerry and Sandra even helped me numerous times to try and catch a hungry but friendly stray dog that had been running around the park for days (we still haven’t caught him).

Each one of them were so warm and friendly, easy to talk to, were fun to laugh with, and made us smile.  They were genuine and made us feel welcome at the park that they have been coming to for decades.  Jason and April came and sat with us by our campfire one night and we had a couple of drinks and chatted, swapped stories and laughed – it is exactly what camping is all about.

April and Jason had to leave for Florida the next day but we got a few more days with Jerry and Sandra before they, too, had to go.  But we thoroughly enjoyed meeting them.  Jerry and Sandra asked for our numbers to keep in touch and said they think of us as family now.  They even invited us to Thanksgiving with them!

A couple of days ago a retired couple named Stan and Ann arrived to stay for the week. It turns out that they have spent a good bit of time in British Columbia, the Canadian province that I’m from, and share my adoration for its unique beauty. I’m sure I’ll enjoy more daily conversations with them until their departure on Friday.

When I took on this adventure, much like I do with everything, I worried.  I worried that I’d be isolated and wouldn’t have many people to talk to, or that if I did they’d be unfriendly or rude and that I would end up dreading leaving the camper each day.  I imagined that maybe after a while we might be lucky enough to meet some folks whose company we enjoyed and had some good conversations with, but I never imagined that we would come to meet so many memorable and wonderful people. 

There are many things about what we are doing that have helped me to begin restoring my confidence – after all, it took a pretty brutal thrashing after all we’ve been through in the last couple of years.  Going back to work – though it is volunteer work – gave me a sense of purpose and pride outside of motherhood that I had forgotten I needed.  Making the leap to live this lifestyle reminded me that I am brave and that our marriage is solid.  Climbing a mountain with my son on my back reminded me that I am strong.  And making so many great new friends reminded me that I am worthy of love. 

These are the lessons that I believe are essential to not just learn, but constantly re-learn over and over as the seasons of life can take their toll and bury those lessons deep within us.  They are lessons that I have always hoped to teach my son over and over as he grows.  They are lessons that I now know he is learning everyday of this adventure as he watches me relearn them.