Wednesday, January 2
Due to wind I didn’t take any photos for this post. Instead I’ve inserted some pics from the past. See if you can guess the locations. Answers are at the end.
Per usual, Bridget and Spike go outside at daybreak.
I follow to keep an eye on them both as they take care of business. Already the wind is a-blowin’ and we hurry back in. Well, a perfect day to stay home and stay cozy. No need to go anywhere. Ah, this is the life.
That plan goes down the crapper during a visit to the little girl’s room.
Oh, noooooo! It’s time to dump tanks! How did I let that sneak up on me! Ever since our first day on the road in August of 2011, I’ve managed to anticipate such necessary tasks as emptying tanks. Okay, wind, cold, no matter. This is a job that has to be done today.
I secure everything in the interior, pack up, including the mat and bird feeders, stow the antenna, bring down the solar panel, put the stepladder in the PTV, and hitch up. In other words, I leave nothing behind. To do so would look like the items are abandoned and free for the picking. I also take an important precaution: I duct-tape the toilet seat down. It’s a bumpy ride out of here and I don’t want the . . . . well, you get the picture.
I toss the crew in the PTV, and get us back on Interstate 8.
The trip to the dump station is nowhere near as far as yesterday’s trip to Wal-Mart. We go to the gas station/convenience store at Pilot Knob which is this side of Yuma. The dump station cost is calculated according to the size of your rig, and it includes water. The 17-foot BLT’s charge is $6.
Now the sun shines brightly and the wind is a breeze.
I fill up the water tank and gallon jugs and then park over at the dump station. Soon a couple from Idaho pull their fifth wheel up behind the BLT. I take advantage of the situation and ask if one of them would turn on the water for me while I flush the tank from inside the bathroom. “Thanks a lot. You save me having to run around like I’m in a three-ring circus.” The man acknowledges that he’s been there and done that.
We’re home in a flash and I’m feeling good.
This buys us more time here. We’re stocked with groceries and water, and the tanks are empty. We’re still on the first tank of propane. Before we need to take care of any of these things again, we’ll be moving to our next camp and I can do those tasks at that time. Full-timing describes this way of living because success depends on timing!
“Do you ever feel cooped up in a 17-foot trailer when the weather is bad?”
A similar question was asked in a comment recently. The answer is “No.” There are several reasons.
One, I’m not a big person. I can move around in the BLT without bumping into things. Two, I prepared myself for my little house-on-wheels by living in one room of my four bedroom house for several years. Three, I have the Liberty Deluxe model of Casita. It has three big windows around the back half. When I pull up the blinds, the walls seem to recede. This brings the outside and the light into the BLT. It doesn’t feel like a small space. Four, I’ve always preferred small and cozy to large and grandiose. Five, I go outside, even in bad weather. I have to watch the crew while they exercise and go to the bathroom. And we can always hop in the PTV and go somewhere.
There probably are more reasons why I don’t feel cooped up in my tiny home. I hope this helps those of you who wonder whether living in a small space is right for you!
1) After driving through a large herd of buffalo, we came upon these donkeys begging for hand-outs. Where? Custer State Park, Black Hills of South Dakota. July 2012.
2) The crew can’t quite figure out what’s going on outside our window at Percha Dam State Park located between Truth or Consequences and Las Cruces, New Mexico. We were caught in this snowstorm the week after Thanksgiving, 2011.
3) While boondocking on BLM land near Congress, Arizona, a herd of horses visited our camp and grazed while I walked among them and took several photos. Spring 2012.
4) Our camp in the Sonoran Desert on Darby Well Road, outside Ajo, Arizona, is one of my favorites. January 2012.
5) Once again we were surprised by a snowstorm. This time it was late Spring 2012. We were camped south of Ash Fork, Arizona.