Around mid November, Oregon and Washington were creeping closer, and I was excited. After a few nights in the Redwoods, we’d be out of California (no offense Sunshine State). The Humboldt Redwoods State Park would be our final stop in California and a place to start getting refreshed for the second half of the trip.

We left San Francisco (not San Fran, as a reader pointed out to me after the last post) and headed up 101. We caught site of some vineyards, and thought about stopping at the Coppola Winery, but it was really early in the morning and they didn’t open until 11am. Also, on a side note, I just finished reading The Billionaire’s Vinegar, so I really wanted to stop…. maybe next time?

Like to drink it, but don't know anything about it.

During the trip, I often tried to think ahead about a place to stop for lunch where we could park, make lunch, walk Lucy and relax for a second — so when I saw we were coming up on Lake Mendocino in Ukiah (about 2 1/2 hours outside San Francisco), I figured they probably had a place to park that would be pretty easy going.

Huge place to turn around, clean and a nice view!

This place is a winner! It’s got a huge parking lot and a great view (this link will show you an aerial view of the parking lot), plus a little beach if you want to take a walk. It’s an Army Corps of Engineer park with a nice walking trail around the dam, however, I’ve read really mixed reviews about camping there, so read up on it if you need to overnight.

For the next 3 hours, our drive took us from flat to hilly and from bright to dark. We were seeing more big trees, the hills were getting more steep, and it was obviously going to rain. We stayed on 101, and got gas in Willits, CA just as a downpour began — one that would cause a kid driving too fast down a hill to do a 360 in the middle of the road and land 10 feet in front of the truck. As those 30 seconds went by, much like the 30 seconds when the Airstream fell to the ground, I couldn’t speak, but managed to grip the passenger handle in the truck and brace for impact.  I knew we’d be fine, our truck was a tank, but the kid in the Corolla was going to have problems. Literally at the last second, he managed to gain control just before hitting us. Then he got out of the car. I saw him  grab his mouth and bend down, either breathing a sigh of relief or throwing up. Not sure. This was the only time on the trip we came close to being in an accident — it’s really amazing when you think of it — over 3,000 miles and not a dent.

Moving on….

It rained on and off for the next hour and then… oh, hello giant trees.

Its just like Star Wars.

Deke looking for Ewoks.

And then it got dark…

I wanted to show how narrow the roads are.

We stayed in the Burlington Campground of the Humboldt Redwood State Park, which was the only camping section that was open, and it has no hookups (I think it was $15). As we pulled in and checked the bulletin board for available spots (because its low season, the Ranger only stops in once a day), it started to really pour, so we quickly drove around trying to find a spot we’d fit into. Not a spot we liked, mind you. A spot we’d fit into. These spots were tight, and so are the roads around the campground. Use caution… I felt we were maxed out taking a 27 ft in there! We decided to stay in spot #33 because we could back into it pretty easily.

If you look closely, we're wedged in there.

It rained so hard through the night, and it was so cold that sadly, we decided to head to the next destination in the morning. Hello Oregon!

To me the Redwoods are beautiful, to Deke its the land of Ewoks. is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

Boy these streets look narrow.

After a few hours on the PCH, getting back to a reasonable altitude was a good thing, but then we hit San Francisco, which I later found out, had Deke a bit worried. We’ve both spent time in San Fran at various conferences and meetings, and in comparison to LA, which was the most terrifying drive through situation for me, San Fran was Deke’s. But we made it over the bridge!

Here we go...

I guess Im hanging out the window a bit... I dont remember, it was a blur.

We were meeting up with Chicago friends for dinner at Sol Food (go there!) in San Rafael, so Marin RV Park was the perfect location. Would I stay at this park again? Definitely not, unless it was an emergency. It was the pits, and it ties the record for worst park we’ve been in (Memphis East RV Park is the other). The woman at the desk was rude, the cost was high, and there’s exactly 5 feet between you and your neighbor. But I’m glad we stayed there because I learned a lesson, and I’m not proud of the story, but I’ll tell it anyway. As we tried to get into our impossibly small parking spot, in the dark, in the cold, a man with Uggs, sweatpants and a white tank top came out of his motorhome (where he was listening to incredibly loud classic rock) and he offered his assistance. Also, by the smell, I would guess he was also on his 2nd or 3rd drink of the night- I could smell it because he was also a close talker. I told him we were ok, and thanked him for the offer. Then his son came out. Let’s just say I totally profiled him based on the neck and face tattoos. I judged both of them on appearance.

Shout out to dad!

Until that moment, I didn’t think I was a judgmental person, I mean my dad has sleeves and drives a Harley and I’ve lived in an RV park in Texas for a year – which in itself is a study in tolerance and patience. But there was something about two people we didn’t know coming up and sticking their head in our truck window and touching our Airstream that made me snap.

Long story short, I made a judgement about these people that I had no right to do, and I was embarrassed about it. Especially since they saved our butts later that night.

Due to an unfortunate perfect storm of events, when we were unhitching the trailer, again, in the dark and cold, the foot gave way and the trailer took a nose dive to the ground. Not all the way, but enough. It was nothing I would’ve ever expected (I was standing right next to it, giving Deke the signal to pull forward), and was essentially dumbstruck, most likely either saying out loud or to myself: Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Without hesitation, Dad and Son immediately stopped what they were doing, got their jack out of their truck and manually jacked up the front of the Airstream. All this happened in about 30 seconds, before Deke could even get out of the truck. Then they helped us stabilize it with some wood and allowed us to keep the jack there overnight for extra stability. They told us to go ahead and meet our friends and they’d be there to keep an eye out if anything happened while we were gone.

View of the city.

Looking back on it, which we’ve done several times since that night, we learned many, many things. Deke learned that he needs to have a manual jack. We both learned that we’ll never be able to anticipate all the things that might go wrong on the road, so stop trying to. And I learned that I’m not better than anyone else and to not judge a man in Uggs and a white tank top who listens to Steppenwolf.

San Fran is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

By now, we’re at our destination in Seattle, and I’ve completely bit the dust on any real-time posts….

Our 13th day on the road started with a sunny California blue sky and ocean views, and ended in San Francisco, but first, we had to make it along the Pacific Coast Highway.

We left Morro Bay and headed north towards San Simeon to see where the local elephant seals sun bathe. We hit a good sunny day and there must have been over 100 on the beach. The main seal lion viewing area has a huge parking lot with plenty of room for any size RV.

Awww, sleepy sea lions.

Playing....

They look passed out.

Then it was time to hit the Pacific Coast Highway. I’ve had anxiety over this drive since the beginning. I know people have done it, but I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of driving the Airstream along those roads. Looking back, I wish I would’ve taken more photos of the drive so those of you who haven’t done it, could get an idea of what it was like, however I wasn’t really breathing, or my eyes were probably closed, most of the time. As I’ve mentioned before, I don’t like to drive or even ride in cars, which makes this whole situation of ours very humorous, but I did take one or two photos while we were pulled over (NOTE: Going south to north, there are very few places to pull over that are big enough for the Airstream. There were many more larger turn-off areas going north to south.)

A little pullover area.

You can see how high up we are by looking at that tiny rock in the ocean. Which is actually a giant boulder.

Another pull-off area that fit us comfortably.

There are two places on the road where it’s actually not even two lanes, but one, and you have to alternate who travels on that part of the road (the northbound folks or the southbound folks). To remedy this, the brave and fearless construction workers were building a viaduct-type bridge that was suspended over and out above the ocean. It completely freaked me out and I found myself alternately saying “Deke look at that! Oh wait, don’t look, you’re driving! But look its so crazy!”.

I'd like to see the waiver they have to sign to work on this project.

Special PCH notes:

We drove the entire length of the Pacific Coast Highway, from south to north with a 27 ft Airstream and a Ford F250. We had no problems with towing, but there are definitely some tight spots and at times we did need to veer into the southbound lane to avoid rocks that were jutting out from our side. I, personally, wouldn’t recommend doing this drive with something much bigger, although we did see one or two 5th wheels and one motorhome.

At one of the few turnouts on the northbound side.

Fill up on gas before you start. I can only remember one gas station in Big Sur, and if you have a smaller trailer, like 22 ft or smaller, you can probably pull into Deke’s favorite place, Nepenthe for some lunch and an amazing view. Deke will probably have some follow up on the subject since he’s the one that did the driving. Lucy has nothing to say on it, she slept through the whole thing.

Sea Lions and the PCH. is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

Lately we’ve noticed empty isn’t really empty according to our Airstream’s tank monitor. When we first got her, the Big Weaz’ tank monitors read 2 dots when empty. After 6 months of fulltime RV living, “empty” has become 4 dots (or 3/8ths full). Thats no good!

What the heck is a tank monitor?

Airstream Tank Monitor, Circa 2011

Let me take a step back for those of you not yet living the RV lifestyle. Living in a house, you can basically forget what happens to waste water once it goes down the drain. In an RV, the buck certainly doesn’t stop there. Your “gently used” water goes on to fill your black (toilet) and grey (sinks / shower) holding tanks until you manually empty them out. Failure to empty these tanks when they fill up leads to some hilarious Robin Williams-esque scenarios that I hope we never experience.

Since RVers aren’t born with an innate sense of “fullness” when it comes to our waste water tanks (or, in some cases, our stomachs), we need to rely on technology, experience, and math to determine just how full these tanks can get. Nowadays, RVs come standard with all types of consoles and doodads that tell you the state of your tanks. Most monitors today give you the basic info, but most have the same modern look and usability of the Bat Computer from the old 60′s Batman series.

Bat Computer, Circa 1966

It looks reliable, but can we trust it?

Now back to our story. After watching “empty” change meaning over the past few months, we became suspicious. So, off to Airforums for a more layman’s explanation of things to try.

Airforums recommended I first clean the tanks like never before, and that’s exactly what I did. I filled and emptied the tanks twice. I applied a healthy dose of borax to both my tanks, just to make sure things were nice and slippery inside. Still, the black tank blinked 4 dots at me when empty. So, according to airforums, my next move was to”recalibrate my monitor.”

How does one recalibrate holding tank monitors?

Being a bit of an electronics nerd, I rarely step down from a challenge. So, with manual in hand,  I stepped up to the monitor and started following the directions for recalibrating. It turns out that the manual for the Bat Computer would have been easier to follow.

First off, the instructions don’t really warn you that there is not a “reset to factory” option, which makes sense I suppose, but would be a nice feature to have. As it stands, recalibrating requires you to empty and fill your tanks to get an accurate measurement.

This was one of the first gotchas I found while recalibrating. Since the procedure for recalibrating your tank monitor may be different, I won’t go into the specific directions. But I’ll give a few helpful hints I wished someone would have bestowed upon me before I took on this little adventure:

• You really need to make sure the tank is super clean before starting – rinse them out a few times, drop some ice down the black tank and drive around, whatever it takes to make sure you’re not just dealing with a dirty sensor.
• Know the exact capacity of your tanks – and subtract 1-2 gallons for “wiggle room”
• The Tank Monitor is not an exact instrument – it gets you close enough, but don’t expect it to be dead on accurate.
• Check the tank monitor manufacturer’s website for an updated manual. Who knows? They may have an updated one that doesn’t require a PhD to follow!
• Ask yourself – do you need to recalibrate ALL tank monitors, or just one of them?  Recalibrating ALL tanks can be a LONG process. Have a full day with nothing to do.
• Have a measuring bucket – I used a 6 gallon bucket to measure the amount of water I poured back into my tanks.
• Don’t have a measuring bucket? you can approximate if you know the gallons per minute of your water source. For example, I know my shower head spits out water at 1.5 gpm, so 2 mins = 3 gallons.

How To Recalibrate RV Tank Monitors is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

We hope all of you are having a wonderful holiday, whether you’re RVing or staying home (or in our case, both).

Thanks to each of you for a great year – your comments and friendship have made 2011 a wonderful time for us, and here’s to an even better (and seeing more of you) in 2012!

-Tiffani and Deke

Happy Holidays! is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

I’m taking a little break from reporting on the various places we stayed on our journey from Dallas to Seattle to talk about some of the foods we ate along that way. Deke and I love to eat and, more specifically, we love to cook. One of the greatest things about living in Chicago was the Green City Market and the access we had to foods grown in the Midwest. So during our trip, we tried to cook a majority of the time instead of eating out, and shopped local as much as possible.

Here’s our favorites!

Coffee!!!

Big Bend Coffee Roasters. We came across Big Bend Coffee in Marfa, TX, at The Get Go independent grocery store. We drink a lot of coffee, and we figured we would need plenty for the trip, so we picked up a bad of the Big Blend of Texas.  Owner Joe Williams roasts only Fair Trade, organic coffee and his facility is carbon-neutral. Besides that, this coffee is awesome! Runner up: Ruta Maya coffee, Austin, Texas.

Really, really good bread.

Dave’s Killer Bread, Portland, OR. Dave’s bread is killer. No doubt about it. We found this bread at The Red Rooster Grocery is Sequim, WA (more on that later), and have since sought it out whenever we grocery shop. Long story short — Dave is an ex-con whose father was a baker. Dave decided to change his life around and make wholesome, certified organic bread with no chemical preservatives. This bread tastes delicious, and by eating it, you’ll not only do good for yourself, but Dave’s also donates over 300,000 loaves to shelters and food banks in the Portland area. Need more reasons? Their bread bags are biodegradable, they buy 100% wind power to offset their carbon emissions and they use bicycles to deliver bread in their area! Dear Dave, I’d like to work for you. Love, Tiffani. To show you that its not just me … here’s a picture of my local Abertson’s Killer Dave bread shelf:

Sold out.

Absolutely necessary.

San Simeon Cabernet Sauvignon, Paso Robles, CA. There are hundreds of good wines coming out of California, but I’m including this one because, well, we know the people at one of the vineyards. But the wine is really good, I promise — plus it’s awesome to see the vines and meet the people responsible for whats in the bottle! Here in the Airstream, we like to throw down a few drinks here and there — especially red wine and whiskey. This red is just how I like it, a bit fruity, a little oaky and goes down smooth. All for about $20 a bottle.

Bone dry cider.

Another great find in the Olympic Peninsula was Alpenfire Organic Hard Cider, made in Port Townsend, WA. We had the Pirate’s Plank Bone Dry version, which was delicious. These guys use old English cider making techniques for small batch deliciousness and have been certified organic since 2005.

So that’s it — coffee, booze and bread. It’s all you really need for a great road trip!

Eating our way to the Pacific Northwest. is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

From Carpinteria, we jumped back on Rt 1 and headed north, hoping to stop at Pismo Dunes and maybe stay at the rv park at San Simeon, but our trip took an unexpected and super fun detour around San Luis Obispo when we thought we’d call a friend and see if we could stop by. We didn’t tell a lot of people our travel plans because we didn’t really know what we were doing from day to day, but our friend Mike and his family live north of SLO, and when we called, he graciously interrupted his work day to invite us over to his house, which happens to have a vineyard and a spectacular view of the area. We ended up spending most of the afternoon there and because it was getting dark, decided to back track a bit to Morro Dunes RV Park. 

View from our spot.

Their office roof is built around a palm tree:

Office.

Yes, it’s a bit of a parking lot, but there are wooden fences that separate each site for a bit of privacy, plus you can walk across the street  to the beach. The folks in the office are incredibly friendly and they had 3 or 4 giant laundry rooms which were inexpensive and clean. The other RVers around us offered us wood for our fire and a snack when we pulled in — they seemed to all get together every night at the same time to hang out.

Pretty beach scene 1.

Pretty beach scene 2.

Pretty beach scene 3.

The beach was beautiful, the park was quiet and the people were friendly!

Morro Bay, CA and a visit with friends. is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

From Palm Canyon, our goal was to do the Pacific Coast Highway all the way up the coast to Oregon. We didn’t need to stop in San Diego, and didn’t want to back track out of the park, so we looked at the map and decided to take Montezuma Valley Road to meet up with Rt. 79 , which leads to Temecula, where you can take any number of roads to 101 and the coast. Montezuma Valley Road winds up to 1300 ft at its peak, and is wonderful practice for the PCH:

About 3/4 of the way up.

Notice the tight turn. And no guardrail or shoulder.

A few hours later, this route will take you past LA (worst roads ever?), and you reach the coast!

Carpinteria was our first stop, and also Lucy’s first time in the ocean:

Awwww.

Everyone’s tastes are different when it comes to state parks, and everyone has different needs. My needs revolve around a place being scenic, clean and uncrowded (I’ll add cheap to that list, but I know that’s asking a lot). Carpeteria, The State Park, didn’t exactly fit those needs, but overall it was an ok place to park next to the ocean.

You might be able to see the ocean ....

We didn’t make reservations anywhere in California because you have to make them at least 2 days in advance, and we couldn’t really think that far ahead on this trip, so we pulled up to the gate where the conversation went something like this:

Me: Hi, do you have any spots available with hook-ups?

Rollie Fingers-looking Guy: Yep, that’s $50. Cash only.

Me: Hmm, how about no hook ups?

RF: Do you want ocean side?

Me: Sure, that would be great.

RF: That’s $50. Cash only.

Me: How about not ocean side?

RF: $35. Cash only.

So we took a non-hook up, non-ocean-side parking spot and found a place where we could walk the dog along the beach. To get to that beach, you have to walk through the high-end spots with hooks up, it’s basically a mall parking lot.

I felt bad for this Bambi stuck between the huge 5th wheels!

What this little town has going for it, in my opinion, is just that: Carpinteria, The Town. We enjoyed the town much more than the park, or even the ocean.  Since we needed a break from cooking in the Airstream, we decided to walk to town for dinner. There were a bunch of places to choose from — sushi, upscale American, seafood, Mexican and a local diner. We decided on Nutbelly Pizza because there were people inside, they had Monday Night Football on and the pizza smelled great — which it was. On our way to Nutbelly, we passed a place called Esau’s which looked part diner – part seafood shack, but it was closed. We decided it would be our breakfast spot before we left.

Esau’s wins for best meal of the trip (so far).  Here’s why:

I don't know what's all in this, but I could eat it every day.

What else we liked about the town:

Nice sidewalks. Nice dogs.

At 7am the fire men were surfing.

It was cold and rainy the next day, so we decided to move on. Carpinteria was a good rest before we hit, what I would call, The Xanax Trail: PCH.

Carpinteria, CA. is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

Leaving Painted Rock Petroglyph State Park was sad… we wanted to stay, but the state of California was between us and the Pacific Northwest, so we needed to get on the road.

I decided at this time Deke had done enough driving for a while, so I bucked up and drove us out of the park and into CA, about 3 hours away. If you know me, you know I hate driving, so this was a big deal. Thankfully, there was a date shake stand nearby to help me get through it.

There were also some interesting things to see along the way like sand dunes –

and Mexico.

After the second border patrol search, I gave up and let Deke have the wheel again. Good thing too, because we soon hit some serious rain as we turned into Palm Canyon Campground at the Borrego Desert State Park. Borrego means bighorn sheep in Spanish — and yes, they apparently wander the hill, but we didn’t see any. It’s the biggest state park in CA, with miles and miles of dune buggy worthy desert, cultural sites and hiking, and one fabulous feature…..

Before we get to that, we saw a lot of sand and rocks,

Me, wondering which way to go.

found a beautiful campground spot,

All this for $35. Full hook ups.

and after a 2 hour hike, found this: an oasis.

No kidding. Its a real oasis. I didn't know they actually existed.

In a nutshell, Palm Canyon is a beautiful campsite, with about 40 RV sites and 50 or so tent sites. It’s a clean park, with a spectacular view at any site you pick, and apparently a hot spot with the Airstream crowd (we counted 5 one day). The highlight is definitely the hike to the oasis — it’s longer than most we’ve tackled and definitely takes some skill (you’ll climb boulders and balance on logs while crossing a creek).

It's harder than it looks.

And take some water, which I didn’t, so here I am literally drinking from a stream.

I was really thirsty.

And after some more climbing, you see an oasis in the distance and you realize all those old movies actually had it right! And if you’re feeling good, you can climb over some bigger boulders and actually go inside the oasis:

I'll probably never get to do this again.

and see the waterfalls:

One of many.

On the way back from the oasis, we met up with another couple doing the hike — he was a undercover State Park inspector checking out the trail. Where do I sign up for that job?

Side note: As we drove through AZ to CA, we passed by the Salton Sea. Deke and I drove around the sea a few years ago while visiting Palm Springs and Salvation Mountain, and never thought we’d get the chance to do so again, so we smiled when we saw it. If you’re going to Borrego Springs, you might want to check it out, especially if really odd out-of-the-way spots are your thing. If you can, try and watch the documentary on the Sea as well, John Waters is the narrator and it’s great, weird, funny look at the area. Salvation Mountain was our main destination on that trip, I’ve had it on my wish list for about 10 years, since grad school when I worked on a folk art environment exhibition. It’s right next to Slab City, so if you have an RV, you should probably check it out, although at times the road is rough and definitely fill up on gas before you go. Stop at Salvation Mountain and talk to Leonard. He’ll give you a tour — he’s a sweet, sweet man.

Palm Canyon Campground, Borrego Springs, CA is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.

Hands down, one of the coolest campsites we’ve been to.

Thanks to Rich, again, for steering us towards this place! I loved it — it was empty, beautiful and interesting. And free all Veteren’s Day week (although I would’ve happily shelled out the $8 fee).

Hmmm, it looks like we might be the only ones here....

Outside of Gila Bend, AZ, there’s a sign (a little bigger than this one) indicting the turn for the park. Now, you’re already kind of in the middle of nowhere, so when you turn, you’re really in the middle of nowhere and you’ll continue to be in the middle of nowhere for about 12 more miles.

Then you’ll pull into this:

I still don't see anyone else...

And maybe you’ll build a fire.

You're allowed to gather wood anywhere you want.

And watch the sunset in peaceful, undisturbed silence.

Oh, someone else showed up!

Did I mention there’s also an ancient petroglyph site right at the campsite?

Painted Rock Petroglyph, AZ is a post from Weaselmouth - It's good to let go.