Adv-O-dna, Cambria, CA (2026)

03/17/2021

Feeling like I might have gotten ripped off at the propane place... (pic 2)

Actually, I was talking to the other day about how a lotta parts of trailering are easier when you’re doing them full time. Friends with new RV’s will ask us about how to sanitize their water tanks or deep clean their black tanks, and I have to admit that I don’t really know; When you’re using them every day, they get flushed out all the time. Predictably, since our trailer has been stored a lot more in the last few years, the first week on the road we saw clogged water filters and the dreaded “mounding.” For a deeper dive, check out my TedTalk, “Mounding: How Your Trailer Toilet Stacks Up.”

This morning’s snafu was one that takes a little more skill to avoid, tho still caused by the fact that I had zero idea how much propane was in either tank when I picked the trailer up from storage. That was on the “once we get on the road” list. In warmer weather, we always found that our 30 # propane tanks would last about 2 weeks each. In colder weather, closer to a week (this with lots of pizza and bread baking and kids who refused to sleep under comforters).

But even out of trailer practice, I’ll swear to my dying day that the moment we decided to stay an extra night at our pleasant avocado farm moochdock in a coastal valley with chilly nights, a little alarm bell went off saying the propane would run out that night.

After snuggling deep under the covers as the temps inside the trailer dropped into the 40’s (I don’t know what the kids did, probably piled a few more cats on their heads?), worried about the temps in the morning but also perversely happy that we’d save a lot of battery hours overnight by turning the furnace off, I bundled up and went outside to screw on the little 10 # bottle we’d brought along to run our new portable fire pit and resolved to top off all three tanks “once we got on the road.”

@ Cambria, California

03/16/2021

This Airstream adventure started a day earlier than planned with a scramble to get packed up and out of the mountains before a snowstorm. We made it down to our old stomping grounds in Petaluma to do some admin (dealing with renters at the “smallhouse”), to see a newly vaccinated grandma, and to catch up with best friends.

People always think life on the road is lounging in a hammock reading while the kids play in the dirt or nonstop epic hikes and picturesque campsites... and it can be... but this week was also a lot of the other half: dirty laundry, leaky skylights, incontinent dogs, bad internet, and close neighbors.

A few days ago, we fought free of Bay Area traffic to continue down the coast to a beautiful moochdocking spot with a friend’s parents near the coast. Surrounded by groves of avocados and citrus, hawks and hummingbirds everywhere, we decided to extend an extra day to reset, get some internet for school, and get a chance to see / for a (windy!) walk on the beach. @ Cambria, California

03/10/2021

3rd grade in the front, 1st grade in the back.

07/29/2020

For my first scouting trip on the KTM 690 Enduro, I rode East to head West, mainly so I could wind up dirt roads to a peak with sweeping views into the next state before following a historic emigrant route back the other way. Since our last ROAMSchool trip found us at City of Rocks in Idaho, a junction point where the California and Oregon Trails diverged, I’ve been fascinated with the western migration that brought almost half a million people on a perilous journey across thousands of miles of rugged territory. I hoped the route I chose, just slightly to the north of the one that didn’t work out super awesome for the Donner Party, would lead to better results (but I brought an extra sandwich just in case).

I’d gotten a late start and the day was heating up - and so was the bike. In fact, one of the appealing upgrades the previous owner had made was the addition of two auxiliary fuel tanks that sit right in front of the rider on either side of the frame. Unfortunately, that means they also sit just above the engine which, as I think I mentioned, was getting hot. I have to admit, I was a little taken aback when I unscrewed the cap on one of the side tanks and found… the gasoline… boiling. BOILING. Well, on the other hand, it was boiling (*BOILING!*) but also, it wasn’t on fire. So… that was good. I opened a valve to let some gas flow out of the front tanks to the back to give it some room to… well... boil and continued on.

In addition to my trusty Garmin Zumo 660 GPS which had led me on moto trips across several states, guided Ann and me through fields of sunflowers and over mountain passes in the Alps (earning it the nickname “Monsieur Garmón”) and had a knack for sending the Airstream on routes that required ferries, I had my iPhone loaded with about 5 different mapping apps and a new toy, a Garmin InReach Mini satellite tracker capable of sending 2 way messages. You know, so I could contact Ann if there was a problem with the bike. I mean, a real problem, not just something small like the fuel boiling.

With 4 gallons of gas now merely simmering between my legs, I felt confident enough to follow my route south towards a high elevation lake on the map.

07/15/2020

This Spring, I was offered a deal I couldn’t refuse on a 2012 KTM 690 Enduro, a bike some call the “unicorn” of dual sport (dirt and street) riding, an elusive mid-size “adventure motorcycle” that can manage both moderately technical trails and full-on freeway blasts while loaded up with a couple days of camping gear but is still light enough not to require traveling with a dedicated “bike uprighter” to help you lift it if it falls over. And this one was fitted with auxiliary fuel tanks that would extend its range for a full day of exploring. The catch was that it had been sitting outside enjoying a salty breeze from the ocean for about 4 years and was starting to look more rust colored than the classic KTM orange.

As luck would have it, we chose to live within walking distance of a meticulous mechanic (very important with my record with vehicles) who specializes in everything in my garage: vintage Hondas and KTM dirt bikes. As soon as I buy a classic Toyota FJ40, I’ll have one of everything he works on (the least I can do). The timing of the stay-at-home order meant that before long he had it stripped down to the frame, the engine repainted and finely tuned and was passing me rims, footpegs, fuel tanks, the exhaust, various brackets and a bucket of miscellaneous bolts to de-barnacle with wire wheels, steel wool and big tub of elbow grease.

Fun fact, knowing how many tiny wire wheels I’d wear out polishing all those tight spaces, I bought a big bag of the cheapo ones off Amazon despite several reviews warning that the short curly wires would fire off the spindle like a combo insane pinwheel and ninja throwing star. When I found one impaled in my forehead, I knew I had a small problem, but it wasn’t until I washed my sweatshirt and deposited a seemingly endless supply of these little metallic burrs into the laundry so they could be reallocated throughout the family wardrobe that I really got in trouble.

Once the mechanic had it all back together, I replaced the bulky fiberglass rally fairing with some minimalist aluminum to shroud a new “navigation tower” fitted with mounts and wired with power for all my techie bits, and she was ready for a real shakedown.

07/13/2020

When we moved to the mountains, I had a feeling it was going to be time for a real dirt bike. Sure, I’d ridden my trusty little ’74 Honda XL250 in back-to-back years on the dirt roads of the Sheetiron 300 rally, maybe not passing anyone but at least getting the KTM riders to turn their heads and nod approvingly as they blew by me (and letting one ride “cupcake” on the back after his bike wouldn’t run the final 15 miles to Ft. Bragg). And I’d wrestled my ’67 Honda CL77 (an early Baja 1000 contender in its day) down the rugged Usal Rd. on the Lost Coast, only to have it lose all its oil on that same 15 mile stretch. That same bike left me high and dry (and the ground below me wet with oil) once again on a vintage ride this Fall. With mixed emotions, I let those two bikes go a few weekends ago. I kept the ’69 Honda CB450; I’m not a monster.

For dirt duty, I settled on a 2012 KTM 350 EXC-F which, compared to anything else I’d ridden, is twitchier than a caffeinated hummingbird. But I got the hang of it, and for the forest roads and trails behind the house, its 250-some lbs with lots of power was just the thing. I’ve been slowly learning how to use more of that long dirt bike seat to shift weight forward in the corners to load the front shocks, set the front wheel and let the rear wheel get a little loose, especially with a roll on of the throttle. The only problem was that this race-bike-with-a-license-plate could barely squeak out 90 miles on a tank of gas, and the idea of riding it on the freeway made *me* twitchier than the bike.

The 350 became my choice for an afternoon buzz into the national forest, but I wondered if there might be something else better for longer-range adventures and scouting.

[For some reason, I’ve been inspired to write again, and the pretty little bow IG captions aren’t scratching the itch like they used to. So for those few of you who read to the end, I’ll be doling out snippets of longer posts here and will eventually compile them in one place on the blog.]

07/06/2020

Of course, we hadn’t gone camping to sit in the campground and listen to a dad yell at his kids (Ann can do that at home), so a group bike ride with our friends down a historic emigrant route to play in a little creek and a paddle across the lake towards stunning granite peaks to a tadpole-filled marsh got us back on track.

Mae has been studying frogs in school so we figured “in the name of science,” we could justify bringing a few back across the lake with us. Fast forward to home where I fashioned an impressive makeshift terrarium for them out of an extra large Ball jar well-appointed with “muck” gathered from a local creek and a dry rock so these little triumphs of nature could dramatically reenact the against-all-odds transition of aquatic lifeforms to terrestrial that 30 million years ago kicked off the incredible story of adaptation that has made us humans the most thoughtful, nurturing creatures on the planet, responsible for the survival not only of the many species below us on this evolutionary ladder but also for the diverse and interconnected ecosystem that supports their and own very existence. Oh, then I figured they might need some fresh air and left the terrarium out on the deck in the sun, and I boiled them. So… foreshadowing?

While the camping situation wasn’t perfect, the scenery was inspiring, and in the end, the time with new friends was the biggest benefit, especially after we moved their camp to the other side of ours where the endlessly repeated refrains - not even the least bit ironically - of “I’M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN, BRAYLAN!” from the camp next door were a few decibels quieter.

On the last day, we paddled around a bit more, rescued some lunch from drowning in the 5 inches of water at the bottom of my 25 year old Coleman cooler (mental note: drop off at museum for final touch to retro camping exhibit and order one of those new ones that will keep a yak frozen for a fortnight) and made our way home. I think next time we’ll try to find someplace a little more private.

07/06/2020

I’ve been doing some scouting on the motorcycle in the mountains just to the north of us and finding some beautiful spots, but many are down rough dirt roads that no amount of axle lift on the Airstream is going to make possible. Hey, we used to be “overlanders” before it was cool (maybe part of the reason it wasn’t cool? Check out SF to Panama on another thing we invented called “a blog” 😜). We figured maybe it was time to gear up for some camping out of the truck.

Though they’ve camped in countless National, State and Provincial Parks all over North America, you could count the number of nights our kids had slept in a tent on one hand. I spent most of my bi-weekly paycheck in my early 20’s taking advantage of pro-deals from the mountain shop where I worked, but it seems most of the stuff in the bins of gear I amassed is now better suited to an “Early Bachelor Camping” exhibit at the Academy of Sciences than to keeping the family (and my aging back) comfortable in the woods. A well-timed notification from about the Memorial Day Sale and an online shopping cart list rivaling a CVS receipt, and we had what we needed for our first trip.

Joined by some friends from the girls’ school (and all on the same page about social distancing), we made our way to a lake about an hour away for a test run. After finding the two campsites we’d reserved on the outer loop of the campground, we choose one for ourselves, unwittingly sandwiching our friends between us and what we’d later come to realize would be a weekend-long, day and night, whirlwind of completely socially-unaware high-volume yelling at dogs, emotionally abuse of children (with scattered periods of disturbingly touching late-night drunken “Just because your mom and I aren’t together doesn’t mean I won’t f**kin’ take care of you forever” heart to hearts), finding ways to be racist while talking about camping equipment (“Get out of my chair. That red chair’s mine. RED CHAIRS MATTER.” 😳) and playing Drake songs. Bleary-eyed after a sleepless night, we all had to wonder why we’d left our quiet neighborhoods in the mountains for this.

[Continued tomorrow. Stingy IG and their lousy 2,200 character limit...😜]

06/30/2020

So what’s the current vibe on posting carefree pictures of sooooper privileged white families on here? Oh, not good? I need to read the room? Okay, copy that.

But at the same time, our life goes on, pretty much unchanged; Issues of race are really not that visible to us on a daily basis, and I’m coming around to realize, that may be part of the larger problem in this country. I’ll admit to being of the camp that believed that sure, there were tons of Americans who were flat out racists, spewing hate and judgement on anyone who didn’t look or behave exactly like them (usually while ignoring the fact that man they prayed to every Sunday also didn’t share their skin tone and that their ancestors weren’t “from here” either), and that yeah, there were plenty more who had just come to quietly fear anyone different and were quick to believe a storyline that blamed others for the problems in their lives.

I think I fell into a more subtle trap, the one of thinking of myself as “color blind.” Of course, in the last weeks it's become clear that to ignore the color of one’s skin is to minimize or sweep away the daily challenges and baked-in inequities that come along with it. Suffice to say, we’ve been talking a lot about systemic racism since. This evening Wynne asked, “Why didn’t you tell us about this before?” The answer is that we were under the impression that just teaching them the history (we’ve been to plantations in the south and didn’t hide any details) but that now everyone was equal and should be treated the same was enough. And honestly, I’m sure we were trying to “protect” them from an unpleasant ongoing reality that we hoped might just kinda fade away with a new “woke” generation. But of course, it’s exactly our privilege that gave us the ability not to “burden” our kids with these facts of life, one that families of color clearly don’t have.

So, this is all just to say that, while life may go on for us in these curated squares, it does so with new perspective, conversations, education and a growing understanding. And that with time, we hope learn how to emerge from passivity into constructive action.

05/30/2020

We’re still here, settling into the remote school/homeschool hybrid just in time for the year to be over, and just now realizing we can blow an afternoon off for a mid-week family hike, especially since the weekends are starting to get a lot more crowded and harder to keep our distance from people. (Note: in this pic W is just being dramatic, not distancing from her family). @ Lake Tahoe, California

04/02/2020

I went grocery shopping yesterday, and it was terrible. Not so possible to maintain 6 ft of distance when the aisles are 4 ft wide and lined with carts trying to space themselves out for the checkout. I think I may have breathed 6 times the entire 20 minutes I was in there.
But a lot of the local restaurants have done a great job pivoting to takeout orders, some even providing grocery items like eggs, produce, milk etc (and of course to-go alcohol) and offering curbside pickups. So we figured we’d try to get takeout a couple nights a week to support local restaurants and to stretch the time between gross-ery runs. It was all well and good until the bag holding the ramen bowls blew out in the driveway (which the restaurant insisted on replacing without charge!).
But even with soup on my Birks, I’m incredibly aware of how “easy” this time has been for us so far with the luxuries of fast internet and plentiful connected devices, nearby open space, flexible kids and income not requiring us to leave the house - whether to provide “essential services” like that congested grocery store or to care for sick patients with insufficient PPE.
If things have been legitimately hard for you as they have been for many, I feel for you and would love to hear if there’s any way we can help. But if you’re anything like us and are only being asked to stay out of the way and not make it worse, bake some bread, make some music, Facetime your parents, buy some gift cards from local businesses and for heck’s sake lift your takeout from the bottom.

03/30/2020

The joke goes that I’m the planner in the ROAMSchool group, but it turns out with so much up in the air right now, we’re the ones who have the least planning to do. The rest of our RS crew is putting plans into motion to find places to stay put and stay healthy, and in the case of .old.trailer, to be ready on the front lines for what comes next. We had a great catchup this morning with .norrell , .norrell, , , .old.trailer, and (separate video chat for the kids!) and yeah, I may have made a plan for us to do this weekly.

Adv-O-dna

03/17/2021

03/16/2021

03/10/2021

07/29/2020

07/15/2020

07/13/2020

07/06/2020

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06/30/2020

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