When I sat down to write this post this morning, I thought I was starting a new series. But then I looked at my list of about 3,100 blog posts here and realized I already had a series it could fit into: Writing Tips. So with a little bit of editing, I wrangled what I’d written today to fit that series. I do, however, want to start with a new introduction.

About Me and This Series

I’ve been a writer since I was 13. I was always driven to write, to tell stories. I wrote them in spiral bound notebooks with the Bic fine point pen I preferred. I filled notebooks with my writing and I still have many of them. This was before the days of computers and word-processing, mind you. The two choices available for writers was longhand or typing. (It wasn’t until much later that I’d get my first typewriter.)

I’ve been a published — yes, by a real publisher — author since 1987 when I was about 26. (You can do the math; it won’t bother me.) That was an article for a professional newsletter. No money, but my first published clip. (There’s a chance I still have it around somewhere; I should hunt it down.) My first paid writing gig came in 1991 as a ghost writer on a John Dvorak book. I wrote 4 chapters and was paid $500 per chapter. My writing career took off from there — I’m sure I’ve covered its trajectory somewhere.

(Hmm. I just did a quick search of blog posts and can’t find one with the full story. I guess I’ll have to write it. In the meantime, here’s a list of all of the books I’ve written and all of the non-blog articles I’ve written.)

The point is that I’m a real writer. I’m driven to write, I have written books and articles that have been published, and I have even made a good living as a writer. Although I’m mostly retired now, I still write; my most recent article for Passagemaker Magazine was published this past week.

I’m telling you all of this because I want you to know who this series is by and for. You know about me; how about you? This series is for people who want to write. It’s not for people who are being forced to write by a boss or job requirements or even a teacher. It’s not going to cover things like grammar and spelling and style. It assumes you already know enough about all that to actually write.

This series is for the folks who, for some reason, want to write but are having trouble doing it. If that’s you, read on.

The Simplest Writing Tool and System

I’ve been thinking a lot about writing lately, looking at ways to get more motivated about doing it and seeing all kinds of weird (to me) posts on my social media platform of choice (Mastodon) from people writing or struggling to write. Two of them just came up in my feed today. I’m including screen grabs of them here for reference and have purposely omitted anything that identifies the poster. (I don’t want to embarrass anyone. If this is your post and you want to be identified as its author, let me know and I’ll modify it for you here.) These posts motivated me to sit down and answer the questions they posed, which I also answered online in replies to them.

In both examples, the author is talking about writing tools or systems to help them write. One mentions bullet journaling, the other lists software platforms. Neither seems ready to acknowledge the simplest tool/system available to them. I’ll give you a hint: it’s the same tool I used when I was 13 years old.

A pen and a notebook.

The Writing Tool/System Trap

Let me start by saying that I was also caught up in the writing tool/system trap that these folks are in. In today’s world, there is always an established and promoted solution for a problem. If someone can cash in on potentially solving a common problem, they will.

That’s what I think of bullet journaling, anyway. It seems that the guy who “invented” it is writing books and creating videos and selling notebooks with dots (instead of lines or grids). You can’t look up “bullet journal” without seeing him pushing his products.

As for software tools, it seems like a race to give writers the perfect app or platform to get their thoughts out there. Even Apple got into the game with its disappointing Journal app. (Why disappointing? Am I the only one who doesn’t want to lock my writing into a cloud-based app?) I even went so far as to spend good money on the app that every writer seems to use and rave about. And then not use it for writing. (I did find another use for it.)

Julia Cameron and The Artist’s Way

A few months ago, still searching for something to help motivate me to sit down and write, I began reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. This book has been around for 30+ years and still sells well. Every professional writer I know — including me — would love to have written and published a book like this.

Not only did I begin reading it, but I also listened to the audiobook version at the same time — a process some people refer to as “immersive reading” — and took notes. I wanted to squeeze everything I could out of this volume.

I didn’t last long. You see, Julia’s philosophy leans heavy on “spirituality,” her poorly disguised religious beliefs. In her world, a person’s success as an artist (including writers) relies on support from a Great Creator. Although she denies throughout the book that she’s talking about God, you’d have to be an idiot to believe her.

I’m a firm believer that we are each ultimately responsible for our own successes and failures so her Great Creator did not sit well with me. I stopped reading after the Week 2 chapter where her list of 10 “Rules of the Road” included three affirmations that rubbed me the wrong way:

In order to be an artist, I must:

…
6. Be alert, always, for the presence of the Great Creator leading and helping my artist.
…
8. Remember that the Great Creator loves creativity.
…
10. Place this sign in my workplace: Great Creator, I will take care of the quantity. You take care of the quality.

I found #10 especially offensive. (Here’s a newsflash for anyone waiting for a Great Creator to edit their writing: He’s already busy not stopping wars, famine, and injustice. What makes you think your writing is more important to Him than all of those other things that He apparently ignores anyway?) And since it became clear to me by then that a certain amount of religious belief (which I lack) would be necessary to get the most out of the book, I decided not to waste any more time with it.

Anyway, religion aside — I’m certainly not willing to discuss it here so keep your comments about it to yourself, please — I did come away from the book with one thing of great value: Morning Pages.

Morning Pages

The Artist’s Way program requires writers to write Morning Pages every day.

Morning Pages are three full pages, handwritten, about anything you want to write. It could be what you’re thinking or doing or seeing. It could be stream of consciousness. It could be notes for a book you want to write or are already working on. Anything. Words on paper, handwritten.

Since this requirement is stated early on at the beginning of the book (before I decided the book wasn’t for me), I started writing Morning Pages every morning. I had a spiral bound, college ruled notebook — the 8-1/2 x 11 inch kind, not the smaller ones they make to save money on paper. I was already using it for occasional notes, including (ironically) the notes I was taking while reading The Artist’s Way.

I did my Morning Pages every morning during my coffee in bed time with my pups. I’m an early riser, often up before 5 AM. I get up, make coffee, and bring it back to bed. I had been using that time to do some puzzles, catch up on Mastodon, and write a quick journal entry in a blank book I had for that purpose. But instead, I started doing Morning Pages and following that up with the journal entry.

It was easy. I can’t begin to tell you just how easy it was. If I can keep myself distraction-free, I can knock it out in 30 to 45 minutes. That might sound like a long time, but we’re talking about three densely packed pages of writing, roughly 1,000 words. With distractions, the time stretched. But in the 71 days I’ve been doing it — I number the entries — I only missed two days and did a short entry one day — all due to scheduling-related time constraints.

One of the reasons I think it’s so easy is because it doesn’t matter what you write. I usually write about the previous day and what I got done. I write about things I thought about, people I communicated with, and things I want or need to do. I write about the weather and the air quality — it’s smoke season here, after all. I write about my health. I write about ideas for blog posts and articles. I scold myself for not doing things I should be doing.

Seriously: I write about anything that comes to mind. It’s rapid-fire stuff with no formatting or editing. Heck, I don’t even create paragraphs. In one sentence I might wish for rain and in the next I might start writing about a new decorative paper process I’d like to try in my studio.

What is this doing for me? Well, it’s a brain dump, to be sure. Isn’t that what both of the Mastodon post examples I shared above seem to be looking for? It helps me organize my thoughts and create threads that often lead to new thoughts or solutions or even action plans. (I’ve actually begun writing my Morning Pages with my To Do list for the day nearby so I can add items to it.) It has also replaced my journal, which I had been keeping quite faithfully for nearly 2 1/2 years. I was a bit sad to see it go, but I realized that there was a lot of repetition. The additional space I have in that spiral notebook makes it possible to go into detail I could not fit in the old journal page format.

And it’s easy enough to make into a habit. Isn’t that specifically what one of those Mastodon posters wanted to do? Set a time of day to do it, make sure you’ve blocked out enough time, and just get it done.

It also reminded me of how I wrote way back when I was 13. Those notebooks! Those pages of neat printed writing in ink! I was able to be creative back then, to write longhand without editing.

Oh, how I rejoiced years later when word processors made typewriters obsolete! But did they really help me? Or hinder me? Morning Pages makes me wonder.

How Writing Tools/Systems Stifle Us

I mentioned earlier that I was once stuck in the mindset that I needed to use a special tool or system to be productive as a writer. Like the folks I quoted above seem to be. And I tried (and set aside) many software-based tools over the years.

Why? Well I found that once I had decided to use a specific tool to do all my writing, I could not write unless that tool was handy.

For example, when I write on a computer, I want to use a keyboard. A regular keyboard that I can touch-type on. I’m a pretty quick typist when I have the right keyboard, a normal sized one that fits my fingers. I can type nearly as quickly as I can compose in my brain. But needing a keyboard means I have to have a desktop or laptop computer with me to write. I cannot write on a phone or tablet. Unfortunately, it’s not possible to have a laptop or desktop with me all the time. So without that tool, I don’t write.

That’s the most basic problem. The problem is worse when you have a cloud-based tool such as the sites listed in the second Mastodon post I shared above. They require you to be connected to the Internet to use them. Another hurdle. While many folks can’t imagine not being connected to the Internet, I can assure everyone that there are times and places where it simply is not possible to connect. What do you do then?

Using a specific writing app locks you up the same way. When you don’t have access to the app, do you find other ways to write? Or do you not write at all?

That pen and notebook are looking better all the time, no? Pretty easy to slip into a purse, messenger bag, backpack, or tote bag, no? (It doesn’t have to be letter-sized, you know. Try a steno pad.) Easy to pull out when you’re waiting for a friend to meet you for lunch or while killing time at the local DMV or even when heading out to the park for an hour of people watching or mindfulness exercises. I’ve begun taking a tote bag with me when I leave home to do my errands. Guess what’s in the bag? That same Morning Pages notebook; I can write anything in it.

If it’s always there with you, ready to receive what you want to give it, there’s no excuse not to use it to write.

Just Write

Even if you don’t like the idea of Morning Pages, there’s something you can take from them: the idea of writing longhand to get what you want to remember out of your brain and onto paper.

Isn’t that the goal of writing? To write?

Don’t worry about having your writing in a format that isn’t “usable.” You can make it usable later. Consider what you write a draft. Then, when you need to create a final work based on it, you can edit it as you type it into your word processor (or blogging platform or whatever) of choice to create your second draft.

Oh, and I need to clarify one more thing. If you’re already diligently working in a writing tool — like maybe a word processor? — to write a book, story, or article, the advice here might not apply to you for that project. If you’ve already established a writing routine that works for you to create specific pieces, keep using it! The advice I’m offering here is mostly for brain dumps, journaling, and getting the random thoughts floating around your head out on paper where you can consult them later.

Is Writing Important to You?

If it is, stop making excuses that revolve around finding the perfect tool or system. Buy yourself a note book and a good writing instrument and just sit down and write.

But wait! There’s more!

This is not the only thing I’ve written about writing. I’ve been writing about writing since the very beginning of this blog. If you want to do a deep dive, I recommend checking out posts in The Writing Life category or posts tagged writing. Remember, all posts are listed in reverse chronological order with the most recent ones first.

Shame on me. After blogging regularly here since 2003, I stepped away for more than 3 months. I can feel the air of neglect here.

Understand that my blog has always been a place where I share my thoughts, opinions, and ideas, as well as providing an account of what I’m up to. It’s not as if I have nothing to write about. I do. I’ve been keeping crazy busy this summer, with plenty to blog about: boat trips, new client jobs, writing for hire, exploring artistic endeavors in my studio, and even an unexpected road trip. I’ve been keeping very busy. But what I haven’t been doing is making time to blog about any of it. And that’s a failure on my part.

But I’m back and hope to post new article at least once a week. There are three swishing around in my head right now and I’ll likely get started on the first one this morning.

There is one thing in particular that I’d like to mention here — and will mention in all of my upcoming blog posts. That’s the simple fact that I wrote every single word that appears on this site (with the obvious exception of attributed quotes). I did not use AI in any way, shape, or form. This site is entirely human-created and it always will be.

If you’re sick of reading AI slop — I know that I am! — I urge you to support the human writers who maintain blogs like this by visiting frequently, sharing links to posts, adding your comments at the end of posts you have something to say about, and, when deserved, sending a small contribution via a tip jar, “buy me a coffee,” or paid subscription. This is currently an ad-free, subscription-free blog and I’d like to keep it that way. But your participation is what motivates me to keep writing.

I’ve had a pretty busy few months this year.

February

After a nice two week stay at the Holtville Hot Springs in my camper, with visits to the tubs at least once a day, I started the long drive home. It had been a very mild winter in central Washington State and there wasn’t any snow on the ground. In fact, my housesitter reported that things were already starting to green up. In mid February.

So I headed home, with an overnight stop at Death Valley — where the superbloom would not peak for at least two weeks — and some town on the Idaho/Oregon border that I can barely remember. I was traveling heavy, towing my utility trailer behind the truck with the camper on it. I was 56 miles from home when a tire on that trailer blew out, delaying my return by about 90 minutes while I waited for Good Sam to change the tire. (Yes, I know how to change a tire, but I’m not going to do it myself if I’ve already paid for roadside assistance that would do it for me.)

The superbloom was just starting in Death Valley when I drove through.

Of course, we had a heavy snowfall just a few days after my return. I managed to get everything in my big garage beside the boat, which was hogging up a lot of space. The snow mostly melted and the relatively warm weather returned. I got some stuff done, but not enough. I had been road weary — as I normally get at the end of my winter travels — and just wanted to bask in the comfort of my home.

But that wasn’t going to happen. I got a sort of emergency call from a woman who needed to move her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa, FL. Her husband was recovering from an illness and the boat needed to be moved. She didn’t feel comfortable doing it with a male captain and I was the first female captain who returned her call. I was on a plane to Fort Myers the next day. The job took a week; during that time I lived with a stranger on a relatively small boat. (Okay, so it’s bigger than mine, but mine is relatively small, too.) I’ve been living alone for about 13 years now and it is totally exhausting for me to spend just about every waking moment of my day with someone else. So after a week of that, I was glad to get back home.

I’ve never seen as many alligators as I saw along the edge of Lake Okeechobee in February.

March

I did some work on the boat — mostly cleaning the anchor locker and re-marking the rode before putting it all away. I’d planned to apply PropSpeed to the prop but soon realized that it was beyond my capabilities. A weather window opened and I towed it back across the mountains. The boatyard lifted it off the trailer and blocked it. While I worked on some basic cleaning tasks, they put me in the queue for PropSpeed, a trailer rash hull repair, and a bottom paint job. And hull detailing, which I honestly think was too expensive for the quality of work provided.

I spent a lot of the time — no, too much of the time — trying to document my stay on the hard in videos for my YouTube channel. I’m telling you, recording and editing video isn’t difficult, but it is a chore. It’s no wonder YouTube is being overrun with AI Slop; it just isn’t worth it to put in the time and effort to create original content.

In all, I was there for 11 days.

The boat was finally launched and after dumping the waste tank and topping off the fuel, I put it back in its slip at the marina. I went home for a few days to take care of things there — mostly in the yard and garden — and get a case of trigger thumb treated by a hand specialist in town.

April

I met with the local Medicare expert, Suzie, and learned, to my delight, that medicare would start a full month earlier than I expected for me. Being able to skip my June health insurance payment was like getting $950 put into my pocket. Best of all, it looks like my out-of-pocket medicare expenses will be under $300. That was some good news.

Then it was back to the boat — did I mention it’s a four-hour drive? — for three more days. I had to pick up the plastic panels a local canvas guy had made to order for my boat’s cockpit screened in room. I installed all that canvas and plastic and when the rain started, I was very happy to have it. It really expands my all-weather living space. Of course, all that canvas and plastic will need to come back off the boat when I turn it over to the charter company for the season; I suspect it would be ruined by charter guests pulling it off and rolling it up carelessly.

I got a chance to go sailing on a 42-foot boat in the rain in 18 mph wind. I would have been a nervous wreck if it weren’t for the fact that my three companions were seasoned sailing instructors. I did get a nasty chill, though, and worried that it would have me sick three days later. (It didn’t. Maybe those vitamins I take now do help?) There was an owner and instructor party and I was prepared to go with an early departure, but they had to-go boxes so I made my dinner and headed out very early. I was home by 7 PM.

The next day, I was on a flight to Seattle to catch a redeye to Orlando. I got about two hours of sleep on the flight — seriously, what was I thinking picking a redeye? — and was picked up at 6:30 AM by my client, the same woman I’d helped take her Mainship 32 from Fort Myers to Cocoa in February. This time, I’d be with her 10 days and we’d take the boat all the way to Savannah, GA. We had amazing weather and because she pushed us hard to get to Savannah early, I wound up with a day to wander around Savannah, which I hadn’t done since passing through there on the Great Loop for the third time in Spring 2024.

Then it was back home, where the biggest chore was mowing my tiny lawn (three times) and making sure the irrigation worked properly. Then back to the boat, this time with the dinghy loaded into the back of my truck. I’d had to repair a panel on the transom, which is why I hadn’t brought it with the boat in March.

I had a hectic day of chores to get the boat prepped for a training client. I wound up spending another four days with him, cruising the San Juans so he could learn how to drive, navigate, dock, anchor, and moor. We managed to get a hike in on Sucia Island and I let him explore on his own at Roche Harbor. By that time, I was completely exhausted. Although he was a great guy and I enjoyed his company, I admit to being glad when he got off the boat in Bellingham and I was alone again. (I did mention how much I enjoy being alone, didn’t I?)

We anchored in Echo Bay at Sucia. Do you know how many times I anchored there in less than perfect weather before I realized you could see Mount Baker from there on a clear day? We had great weather for our whole trip.

The Joy of Rest, Relaxation, and Solitude

And that brings us to yesterday which was a Wednesday. After a quick sea trial with my mechanic to show her a steering issue that we hope is caused by air in the hydraulic steering lines, a stop at Trader Joe’s for groceries, and another quick stop at Walmart to pick up some bottled spring water, I found myself with nothing that I had to do. I couldn’t go home because I had to attend the Bellingham Yacht Club season opening event on Saturday, with lots of food and a swap meet where I hoped to sell off some extra equipment I didn’t need. While I could stay at the dock, why would I want to do that? Wasn’t 10 days on the hard in March dull enough? So I headed out with my pups.

I wound up in Inati Bay on Lummi Island. The anchorage was empty for the first time I’d ever come there. I think more folks were at the new Smuggler’s Cove mooring field farther up the coast of Lummi. Fine with me.

I spent the afternoon just relaxing. I napped, read, did puzzles, snacked. I watched a great blue heron fly around, squawking loudly as it was chased by two juvenile bald eagles. I took my dogs to shore. I made dinner and ate. I flew my drone to take photos of the boat at anchor.

Afternoon at Inati Bay.

This morning, I woke up before dawn (as usual) and watched the sky brighten. I saw first light touch the rocks on the shore nearby, illuminating a waterfall I hadn’t noticed the day before. I watched a sea otter swim around slowly, then disappear under the water. I heard a harried heron in the near distance. I saw gulls flying around as if looking for the perfect place to land before settling down on the glassy smooth water.

First light at Inati Bay. Can you see the little waterfall in this photo?

I enjoyed the silence and solitude.

I felt a surge of happiness I feel occasionally, but not often enough. I think it requires me to stop doing and just sit back and get in tune with my surroundings. It made me want to share this thought with you.

So I’m blogging about it.

Because yes, it’s difficult for me to truly relax.

But besides that, I really wanted to share this moment. The feeling of joy you can get when you go to a special place, put down your phone, shut the hell up, and pay attention to what’s around you.

Today and Tomorrow

The plan for today is to head over to Vendovi Island for a hike in the preserve there. (I hope I can bring my dogs.) Then, after lunch, I’ll head down to La Connor for the night. It’s a cute town I breezed through once; I’d like to really explore it this time.

Tomorrow, Friday, I’ll head back to Bellingham where I have things to do again.

But I admit that I’m looking forward to a lot more days on the water this summer, with no plans and the ability to really soak up the peace and quiet some of these anchorages offer.

I towed my boat from home to its summer home in Bellingham on Friday. It was a stressful, time-consuming non-event. The road over Stevens Pass was wet, but not icy. A landslide closed the northbound lanes of I-5 just south of my destination, so I had to take a detour with an oversized load in tow.

Fun times!

Anyway, shortly after arrival, they lifted my boat off its trailer and blocked it up in the boatyard. I need a bit of bottom work done so it’ll be on the hard here for about a week. I’ll be living aboard — yes, on blocks — for about 10 days.

As they were working, I used my phone to record the process on video. Here’s that video, edited for length — the process took about an hour — and narrated. I think it’ll give most folks a look at something they’ve never seen in real life.

Here’s the video and description on YouTube:

It’s boating season again in the Pacific Northwest! I’ve towed my boat from its winter home in my garage to its summer home in Bellingham, WA. In this video, I show the process of removing the boat from the trailer with a boat lift and blocking it up in the yard. The whole thing is narrated (and I can’t wait for viewers to comment on all my mistakes). If you’re like me, you’re fascinated by the use of highly specialized equipment and skilled workers to perform tasks that most people have no idea about. Enjoy the video!

Many thanks to the folks at Seaview North for letting me record them at work. I know my boat is in good hands.

And remember, my boat is in a charter program at San Juan Yachting in Bellingham. YOU can take it out for a week on your own or with me as your captain. Visit https://www.SanJuanYachting.com/ for details. Tell them Maria sent you!

—

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH

Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

At the end of the boating season, instead of leaving my boat in the water (in a slip I pay for regardless of occupancy), I bring it home for safekeeping. After all, it is trailerable and I have a trailer and truck to move it. I also have a cavernous garage where the boat fits snugly with whatever other stuff I cram in there. This is infinitely better for the boat than leaving it in the water all winter for stuff to grow on the bottom and moisture to grow mold and mildew on canvases. Honestly, how could they expect me to leave my boat there when I have this option?

Having the boat at home before the season also gives me a chance to do some maintenance, especially on the bottom. This year, I’d planned to do some touch-up paint on the bottom, put PropSpeed on the prop, and wash and wax the red painted part of the hull. To that end, I got to work this weekend. And since I think the bottom of my boat is kind of interesting, I made a video of what it looks like before I scraped off the dead sea life.

Here’s that video, along with the description that appears on YouTube.

Description:

Boating season is quickly approaching and I’m prepping my boat to be launched before month end. Right now, the boat is on its trailer in my garage, staying cozy warm and waiting for attention. In this video, I show you what’s under the waterline on the stern of the boat and the kind of work I need to do before launching it. My cat, Rover, makes a special guest appearance.

Keep in mind that my boat is available for charter through San Juan Yachting in Bellingham WA. Take it out for a week in the beautiful San Juan Islands! Or, if you’d like me to take you around for a few days and teach you how to drive a single engine trawler like this, get in touch on my boating blog: https://mygreatloopadventure.com/contact-me/

My goal is to make more videos about my boat trips and other cool things I do. Support me by subscribing to this channel, liking this (and other videos), and commenting on this video to let me know what you like, don’t like, or want to see.

Support my blogging and video efforts!
– DONATE: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH
– BUY ME A COFFEE: https://bit.ly/BuyMariaACoffee
– SPONSOR a future video: https://square.link/u/4Ykg9nzH

Read about my Great Loop Adventure: http://www.MyGreatLoop Adventure.com/
Check out my personal blog at http://www.aneclecticmind.com/
See my flying videos at http://www.youtube.com/c/FlyingMAir

This winter, I spent some time with my friends Jan and Tiff in their Arizona home. I’ve known them since 2013 when I swapped my old golf cart for a towable helicopter landing platform. Back then, they owned a helicopter flight school in Mesa AZ. I got to be good friends with them and their partner, Woody. In those days, Jan and Woody were airline pilots for America West, which was eventually gobbled up and merged into US Air. Now they’re both retired and still living in Arizona. They sold the flight school a few years ago.

Enter Tovala

Anyway, neither Jan or Tiff cook so they basically eat out or order in all the time. I’ve become used to it when I visit with them and often pick up the tab (when I’m fast enough) when we eat out. But this time was a little different. I noticed that they had a fancy toaster oven on their countertop. Long story short: they’d signed up for a meal kit program and the oven had come with it.

The program is called Tovala and it’s absolutely perfect for anyone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t want to cook. You sign up and get the oven, which is a smart device (more on that in a moment). You commit to a certain number of meals per week — the minimum is 4 — and they come once a week in an insulated box full of little meal boxes, often with meat or fish in a vacuum-sealed pouch. Everything is fresh and the quality seems to be good. At mealtime, you open a little box, follow the instructions on the card to put meal components into aluminum foil trays, pop the trays in the oven, scan a QR code on the card, and push the oven’s start button. It’s automatically programmed to cook the meal for you, usually in oven mode. (The oven can also toast, broil, and air fry.) When it’s done, you plate it up, add provided sauces and/or toppings, and eat it.

Here’s an unboxed Tovala meal. Everything comes in the tan box. Take the plastic off the trays, put them in the oven, scan the code, and the oven cooks it. Some meals do require a bit of assembly before cooking, but it’s all so easy a 5 year old could do it.

It’s absolutely idiot-proof, making it possible for someone who can’t cook to get a hot meal at home without ordering out. This is perfect for Jan and Tiff, mostly because Tovala meals tend to be healthier than restaurant or takeout food. (More on that in a moment, too.)

Worth a Try

I’m the opposite of Jan and Tiff when it comes to meals. I know how to cook and I can do it pretty well when I want to. I actually like to cook — sometimes. But I also like to have a wide variety of food and don’t necessarily want to track down recipes, shop for ingredients, and then make a whole recipe for my one-person household. Yes, I do it once in a while and I normally eat leftovers the next day and then vacuum seal and freeze additional portions. But I also have a busy life and cooking can become a chore. So I eat a lot of what I’ve put in the freezer or make meals of almond butter or avocado on crackers, or ramen with veggies, or even store bought or frozen prepared foods. It’s just not good for me in so many ways.

I thought Tovala might give me the variety I crave without the effort of making it myself or the cost/bother of going out to eat. (Understand that I live 10 miles from town and no one delivers up here.) I did the math and the price wasn’t outrageous. 4 meals a week cost about $65, which is $16-$17 per meal. I’d spend at least that if I went out, and I’d still have at least 20 miles of driving to get into town and back.

And yes, I know I can eat a lot cheaper with groceries. I’m not an idiot. I can and often do prepare a good balanced meal based around a normal meat or fish protein for under $10. But I considered this a treat and, if I could, I’d just get two or three meals a week from Tovala.

Observations

I’ve had four weeks of deliveries so far.

The first week was pretty much a loss; the food arrived on Friday and by Saturday morning I was on my way to Florida for a boat captain gig for a week. I left the food for my housesitter who was not impressed.

The second and third weeks were pretty good. Everything cooked pretty well with just a scan and the touch of a button and the vegetable or pasta combinations were good. The beef dishes were very good, which surprised me. I quickly discovered that the chicken and fish cook better than the pork, which dries out. The side salads were a sad little joke, barely more than garnish with dressing.

But, in general, the portions were good and the food was definitely fresh. I could always eat more — but then again, if I like something enough, I could probably eat it until I exploded.

I liked the flavors, which is why I’d signed up. So in that sense, I was satisfied.

But Is it Really a Good Match for Me?

Unfortunately, I came back from Florida realizing that I needed more calorie-conscious meals. (Yes, while I was traveling this winter, I porked up, as usual, and needed to start dieting again to feel more fit.) And what I was facing from Tovala were extremely tasty but not very diet-friendly food.

You see, you need to order (or skip) your meals at least 10 days before you actually get them. For example, the meals I’ll get on Friday, March 27 have to be finalized by Wednesday, March 18. So because I’d ordered tasty comfort food before going on my trip, I faced two weeks of that instead of more calorie conscious choices.

And I’ll be frank: their idea of “calorie smart” is not the same as mine. I expect a lower calorie meal to come in at less than 500 calories, preferably less than 400. (And yes, it’s doable. I made grilled salmon with a salad the other day with a total calorie count of just 170.) I think they’d have to lean heavily on their puny salads to make that happen. I’m capable of grilling or baking a protein with a handful of power greens, some tomatoes, and a tablespoon of dressing, so I don’t need something like that delivered. (Maybe someone who can’t cook or simply doesn’t have time to cook or shop might feel differently. Think Jan and Tiff.)

Of course, once I started tracking calories, I started looking very closely at the nutritional information for the Tovala meals I was eating. Calories were important, but so was sodium and added sugars. And what I was learning was that some Tovala meals were definitely fine-tuned for flavor instead of nutrition. I know that adding a lot of salt and sugar is a restaurant/catering ploy to make their food taste better, but in my mind, a savory entree should have zero added sugar. And come on folks! Stop with the salt. It’s easy to add salt but impossible to remove it.

Going back to the 10 days advance notice, however, this has proved difficult for me, as my calendar is always in flux. Last month’s last minute captain gig is just one example: I got the call on Friday and was on a plane Saturday afternoon. One of the things I like most about my life is its spontaneity — I can decide at any time what I want to do and when I want to do it. Having to lock down whether I get meals 10 days before they arrive means that if I change my plans, I need to either take the meals with me (which is only possible when I have a way to store and cook them) or find someone else to take them for me. That just adds another thing to think about when I make or change plans.

AI Support

I had ordered an egg rolls add-on for one of my meals (before I knew I really wanted to watch my calories) and tried to remove it. I couldn’t figure out how. Neither the app nor the website made it possible to remove just an add-on item. (In hindsight, I suspect I could have removed that entire meal and maybe the add-on would have gone with it. Then I could have re-added the meal. That might have worked.)

I tried technical support chat in the app and my highly specific request was handled by an AI that provided me with links to options that did not apply. When I said I wanted to chat with a person, I was told to enter my email and message. I did. No person joined the chat, but I did get an email response — from an AI. This included instructions to remove the add-on that simply did not work. I tried chat again, told it I wanted a human, and waited. Within about 4 minutes, a human joined the chat. Based on the subsequent chat, I am 98% sure she was human. She resolved the problem by finding the item and removing it for me.

But the whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth. (No pun intended.) A problem that I struggled with over the course of more than 40 minutes with a ton of frustration could have been quickly resolved if a human had answered the chat in the first place.

I cannot tell you how much I hate dealing with AI systems for technical support or customer service. 90% of the time, these systems cannot resolve my problem. All they do is tell me that the company I’m dealing with cares so little about their customers that they won’t even hire a sufficient human support staff. Instead, my needs are handled by a fucking machine that can’t even get things right.

And if you try to tell me in comments that “this is the future,” let me respond right now: only if you let it. I won’t. Don’t we deserve better when we are paying for a product or service? I know I do. Stop following the rest the herd and say no to AI.

Not For Me

So after four weeks of Tovala meals — two of which are still in my refrigerator — I have decided that Tovala is not for me. Between my fluctuating schedule, my need for more calorie conscious meal choices (that do not rely on a salad I can make better myself), and my absolute hatred of AI-based support, I don’t think I can continue using Tovala on a regular basis. That might change when I get my weight down to where it needs to be or spend more time at home, but for now, no.

Don’t get me wrong. If you’re like Jan and Tiff, can’t be bothered cooking, and are tired of the bother and expense of eating out or ordering in, Tovala might be perfect for you. (If you want to try it, here’s a referral code that’ll get you a free oven.) The food is good and fresh and the meal choices are interesting. And it seriously can’t be any easier to prepare your food.

But I will be getting two more weeks of Tovala food. You see, when you sign up and get the oven for free or at a discount, you agree to buy 6 weeks of meals within 6 months. I have two weeks to go. They’ll likely be in late May because my schedule for April is filling up very quickly. I don’t mind — again, I like the food. And, to be honest, I probably won’t cancel the service entirely. But I’m not sure when I’ll feel comfortable ordering food 10 days in advance.

A lot of folks criticize me for (or are in awe of) the number of “irons I keep in the fire.” Simply said, I have a lot of interests and when something really strikes my fancy, I dive in headfirst and do what I need to do to become an “expert.”

That’s how teaching myself how to use computers in the early 1990s paid off with a career as a computer how-to book author, speaker, and educator, freeing me, once and for all (at age 29), from the 9 to 5 grind of corporate America.

That’s how learning to fly helicopters and eventually jumping through the hoops required to get a charter (AKA Part 135) certificate got me a third career as a helicopter pilot, which started climbing to its peak in 2012, right around the time people stopped buying computer how-to books.

That’s how accumulating cabochons at rock shows led to making jewelry which led to getting good silversmith training and setting up my own fully-equipped studio and making/selling sterling silver jewelry at art shows. When I sold the helicopter and my two helicopter businesses, I really thought silversmithing would be my fourth career (and first retirement career) and I suppose I can still count it as that.

But I never expected my boating activities to lead to paying gigs on both coasts, bringing in retirement income just as silver prices skyrocketed and the economy led to people not spending much money on things they didn’t need. After a dismal winter art show season in Seattle and the Phoenix area, I’ve pretty much set my silversmithing activities aside to better explore this fifth career as a boat captain.

Getting into Boating

What started as me musing, back in 2012, whether it was possible to take a boat on a trip from the Intracoastal Waterway near my mom’s old house in St. Augustine all the way up to the Erie Canal, somehow ending in the Mississippi River and looping back to my starting point in Florida, eventually culminated with me doing that trip, the Great Loop, mostly solo in my own boat. I started in Chicago in October 2022 and ended there in August 2024. (I was still working as a pilot in the summer so I couldn’t do the summer part in 2023.)

I’d been boating on and off most of my life. Back in the summer of 2011, I bought a little jet boat. It wasn’t much and it wasn’t fast, but I eventually took it on outings in the Columbia River, Colorado River, and Lake Pleasant (Arizona).

My little jetboat was extremely well travelled. In the winter of 2017/18, I took it south with me to Arizona and beyond. This picture was shot at Capitol Reef National Park in October, when I drove through on my way to a side trip in Colorado.

My life got turned upside down in 2012 and I spent the next few years rebuilding it the way I wanted, with a new home and new priorities. I’ll just say this: life is good when you don’t have anyone holding you back from enjoying it. (‘Nuff said, eh, Jim?)

By 2021, I was thinking about that boat trip again. I found a boat captain doing the trip in his 2017 Ranger Tug R-27 who was looking for two crew members. I signed up for a portion of the trip: 8 weeks from Jersey City to Chicago. It was a mostly great experience, although I did clash with the other crew member and wound up leaving the boat after 5 weeks. We traveled up the Hudson River (where I’d boated with my family as a child) through the Erie Canal, and along Lake Erie and Lake Huron. It was great experience.

After that trip, I was approached by another boat captain, this time in a 1985 Aft Cabin Carver 35, who was doing the trip at his own pace and needed at least one crew member for at least two weeks. I signed up for 5 weeks, returning home just in time for my summer work. This time we were on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway between Charleston SC and New Bern NC. (John cruised at a much slower pace.) Again, it was great experience.

I was almost ready to buy my own boat, planning to do the Loop at my own pace starting in 2024. I had one more season of summer flying to do with my helicopter and then I planned to sell it. But weird stuff happens and I got an offer I couldn’t refuse for the helicopter in May 2022. I’m not an idiot; I sold it. I wound up leasing a helicopter — long and crazy story there — for my summer work.

But that big fat helicopter payment was eating at me, telling me to buy a boat that summer and start the trip sooner. After putting off looking for most of the summer, I finally succumbed and started a search. I found the right boat in August 2022, made an offer, had it accepted contingent on the survey, got it surveyed, and completed the sale just after Labor Day weekend.

What followed was a bit of training, a bunch of days cruising around Puget Sound, and a trip across the US to Chicago where the trucking company I’d hired launched it. My friend Janet joined me for the first 3 weeks on the Loop. My friend Alyse joined me for the second 3 weeks on the Loop. I did a bunch solo and also did about 60 days with my friend Jason and another 3 days with my friend Cheri. This was all over the course of 22 months, with time home to work when I had to.

Becoming a Captain

Along the way, I stopped in Oriental NC to attend a 7-day OUPV captain course. I got my Captain’s License from the USCG in October 2023. I put that license to work in May 2024 in the Baltimore area on two separate training gigs: 3 days for a brand new boater planning to do the Loop solo starting that summer (!!) in his 2015 Ranger Tug R-29 and 1 day with a couple who had stepped up from a pontoon boat to a really nice (and relatively new) Ranger Tug R-29.

If I had to identify one thing that has helped me stay financially secure doing interesting work throughout my life while retaining a healthy work/life balance, it’s my ability to recognize and take advantage of opportunities that come up as they come up. While many people — including too many I know — will make excuses to support why they can’t do something, I look at what I need to do to make things happen.

So while I was on a flotilla with five other boats (all larger than mine) going to Desolation Sound, and one of the owners of the charter company asked if I’d ever considered training people how to drive boats, I not only said yes but told him I had some experience doing it. (He had been impressed that I docked the boat solo at every stop; basically having the boat tied up before his wife hurried over to help.) And then I took the certification classes required to qualify as an instructor for their company. The following spring, I was teaching for them.

I have to admit that the highly structured classes they were teaching to give students American Boating certification was not what I enjoy doing. It was nice to make money while boating with strangers, some of whom were really great people, but I’m not a fan of teaching to the test, especially when the test covers information not in the course material or really not necessary to know. (I’d offer an example here, but I literally tossed out those old tests two days ago when cleaning out my instructor binder.)

I’d prefer to teach just one or two (a couple) people at a time, focusing on what they need to know to be safe boaters and get started building skills. And that’s what I got to do twice on my own boat last summer. I took a future Ranger Tug owner and his friend on an overnight trip in the San Juan Islands where they could see whether the boat would meet their needs; they stayed in an AirBnB on Orcas Island near Deer Harbor. And I took another future Ranger Tug owner who plans to do the Loop on a four day trip in the San Juan Islands, focusing on soloing skills — which is something the training organizations don’t want me to teach for them. I was tickled pink when he picked up a mooring ball by himself on the first try!

Later that summer, in August, I accompanied a new boater and his friend on his 2024 Antares 11, a twin outboard boat he planned to do the loop in. They had to move the boat from the Florida Panhandle to Jacksonville. We had two weeks to do it and needed almost every day because of engine issues along the way. It was brutally hot and humid in Florida, but the boat had air conditioning in the staterooms so sleeping was tolerable. It wasn’t my favorite Captain gig, but it’s always nice to get out on the water, especially when someone else is picking up the tab.

This Year Is Shaping Up

Fast forward to this year. Things are shaping up nicely. It’s just March and I’ve already done one gig, have two more under contract, and a third penciled in on my calendar. These are all gigs in a client’s boat or in my boat.

In two cases (for the same female client), I got the gig partly because I’m a woman. So that’s a welcome twist.

In the other two cases, the client wants to experience cruising in a Ranger Tug. So although my boat is in a charter program with San Juan Yachting out of Bellingham and used by others when I’m not on board, I have enough time for myself reserved so I can offer a few training cruises in it. I love teaching people how to drive Ranger Tugs, especially in my own boat. I know it so well and am still excited about it, even after 3 1/2 years of ownership. I want to make them excited, too.

And I’m also doing day trips and shorter overnight trips for clients. You can check my boat’s availability calendar here. And, of course, you can charter it for yourself if you meet the charter guest requirements at San Juan Yachting. Or you can charter it and request me as your on-board captain for custom training as you cruise.

The point is, I’m able to do work I love — boating and teaching people how to boat safely — and be paid for it. And I have to admit that the work pays a lot better for the amount of effort than my silversmithing “career,” even though it’s not as creative and personally rewarding. I guess the bottom line is this: doing work as a boat captain pays the bills; doing work as a silversmith/artist pays to do work as a silversmith/artist.

Winter 2026/27?

At this point, I’m leaning hard toward towing my boat back to the Great Loop in mid October or November, probably launching it in the St. Louis area. When I did the Loop, I sped through the southern half of the Inland Waterways in December and the trip was not as good as I think it should have been. I want to do it again and then cruise on to the west coast of Florida, perhaps with another stop in the Keys.

Heck, I towed it home from Chicago in August 2024. Why not tow it back to St. Louis in October 2026?

The boat would be available for passengers interested in learning more about the Great Loop or Ranger Tugs. Due to the size of the boat and stateroom limitations, I prefer to take solo cruisers, but I could probably make room for a couple. We’ll see.

What I do beyond that really depends on what plans I can make for Summer 2027. Right now, it’s too early to share my thoughts about that.

It’s All about Skills

I just want to end this post with a quick discussion of skills.

I have built multiple careers — some of them very successful — by learning skills and making those skills available to people willing to pay for them.

• I wrote about computer books for more than 20 years, earning quite a bit of money with my ability to write and to explain how to perform tasks on a computer.
• I took passengers for hire and did contract work in a helicopter, eventually earning a good living with my ability to fly the way a client needed me to fly.
• I’ve earned money with my silversmithing skills, although I haven’t had to depend on the income from that endeavor (see the previous two points).
• I’m earning money with my boating skills, teaching people how to safely maneuver their boat.

I have numerous other skills that serve me well:

• Computer skills for building websites, creating marketing materials, and making videos.
• Marketing skills for selling myself and my services.
• Accounting skills for taking care of my own finances.
• People skills that recognize the client is always right (even if he’s wrong), among other things.

I don’t learn skills because I plan to turn them into a career. I learn them because they interest me. But being able to monetize them makes it possible for me earn a living doing the things that interest me. In addition to the ones I’ve covered here, I’m also doing things with bookbinding, leather work, carpentry, photography, sewing, and more. I’m interested in a lot of things so I do a lot of things.

I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: building skills can never be a waste of time. You never know when that skill you’ve been honing because you really enjoy the work might be the skill that turns into a lifeboat if your life goes sideways one day.

As regular readers know, I go south every winter. I love my home but I don’t like winters here. It isn’t the cold as much as it’s the dreariness. So I go south, usually to Arizona and the desert southwest, although I did spend two winters on my boat on the Great Loop in mostly Florida a few years ago.

This year, I left on November 27, 2025 (Thanksgiving Day) and returned home on February 12, 2026. I have an excellent winter housesitter, which takes a lot of the worries out of leaving home for so long. He’s a skier and he likes the proximity of Mission Ridge and Steven’s Pass, two local ski resorts. He was not happy about the lack of real winter weather this year. But that lack of winter weather is what got me home early; I was supposed to come home at the end of February.

I thought I’d take a few minutes to write up a summary of my trip’s expenses. I think I managed to do it quite affordably this year. You be the judge.

Fuel

Fuel was my biggest expense. I drove roughly 4500 miles — Central Washington to the Phoenix area to Albuquerque to Las Cruces to Sierra Vista to the Phoenix area to Quartzsite to Yuma to Holtville to Salton Sea (Mecca) to Death Valley to Central Washington. I suppose I could plot the whole trip and get an exact mileage, but I think this is pretty close considering all the little side trips I made along the way.

I went through Death Valley on my way home. They were forecasting a Superbloom this spring and I think they’ll have it, but the best bloom I saw was at the south end of Badwater Road where it climbs up toward Shoshone. Simply said, I was about 2-4 weeks too early. So I only spent one night.

I was driving my pickup, which gets decent mileage, considering its size. But I had the truck camper on top, which is quite a load, and I was towing a utility trailer. I got about 12 miles per gallon.

I spent a total of $1,493 on diesel. This was taking advantage of Fred Meyer and Fry’s discounts everywhere possible and making sure I topped off in cheaper places — like in Yuma instead of Southern California and then Barstow instead of near Death Valley. The highest price I saw for diesel was $6.80/gallon in Death Valley, but the highest I think I paid was $4.79/gallon at Barstow.

Camping

I camped in my RV a total of 77 nights. They can be broken down as follows:

*The part hookup campgrounds and two of the no hookup campgrounds had RV dump facilities and drinking water available.

Honestly, I think the cost of full hookup campsites is outrageous these days. The one at Salton Sea was quite affordable at $36.25 including reservation fees. Not only did it include power, water, and sewer hookups, but there was a BBQ grill, picnic table, and a great view of the lake. But a gravel, featureless parking spot in Quartzsite for $70/night? They get you coming and going there.

I like to spend a night every week or so at a full or part hookup campground just to “refresh” my camper — empty the waste tanks, fill the water tank, make sure the battery is fully charged.

I should mention here that although I brought my little Honda 2KW generator along with me, I never even took it out. My solar panels brought in enough power during the day for the 66 days I camped without any power hookup. Meanwhile, in many campgrounds that had no hookup — I’m looking at you, Boulder Beach — I had to listen to someone else’s generator from 6 AM to 10 PM. I’ll take the empty desert any day.

You can bet I didn’t hear any generators — or anything else, for that matter — at this campsite west of Shoshone and just south of Death Valley National Park. No one came down that road the entire time I was there.

If you’re RVing and you need a generator or power connection for an overnight stay, you’re doing it wrong.

Other Expenses

I ate out once in a while but not very often. I bought groceries. Although I could work up total costs for my meals, I don’t bother because I have to eat no matter where I go. Buying groceries and cooking at the camper saves a lot of money — just like cooking at home is cheaper than eating out.

I also had to pay for laundry at laundromats. I estimate that cost about $100 total. I think I did laundry 6 times while I was on the road.

I also didn’t add up the cost of propane. My camper uses propane for the stove, water heater, and furnace. It also uses propane to run the refrigerator when I’m not plugged in at a campground. I only heat the water once a day — in the morning to do the dishes and wash up. The furnace is probably the biggest consumer; I’m not going to be cold at night. This was a pretty mild winter, though. In the past, while boondocking, a 5-gallon tank of propane usually lasted about a week. This year, I got at least 10 days out of each one. It cost about $15 to refill and I think I got 6 refills.

(Why on earth are people using Blue Rhino and swapping tanks? Don’t you realize it costs about $10 more than just refilling your own tank? Six times is $60.)

Last RV Trip South?

Although it was nice to stop in new places along the way — I spent more than a week in New Mexico this year — it was not nice to drag that cargo trailer. The only reason I had it with me was because I had at least two art shows to attend and I had all kinds of show equipment to bring with me. The first show was a bust — I barely broke even. The second was okay, but none of my better work sold. It seems that people are holding onto their money these days and are less likely to spend it on things they don’t need. I certainly didn’t need to do those two shows. (In fact, the way the economy is going — not to mention the price of silver, which I use in my work — I’ve decided to take a step back (again) from doing art shows.)

I’m thinking that there are more places south of where I live than the US desert southwest. Mexico is cheap and easy and I have friends that spend the winter there. But maybe it’s time to start planning that trip to Australia that I’ve put off for 13 years. I’m not getting any younger. Three months down under might do me good.

I’m writing this from my very comfortable campsite at the Holtville Hot Spring, a BLM managed long-term visitor area. This is probably my seventh or eighth visit and I’m planning on staying for about two weeks. That’s why I took the effort to find a campsite that clicked all my boxes — privacy, quiet, space for my pups to run off leash, close (but not too close) to the hot spring tubs — and position my equipment in a way that makes everything easy to access. This is also the third time on this winter trip that I’ve taken the camper off the truck, giving me a little bit more flexibility when it comes to running errands in town.

My campsite, which has two driveways, is tucked in among bare salt cedar trees just off the campground’s main road.

I’m traveling this year with my Lance slide-in truck camper and a small cargo trailer that houses my mobile jewelry studio. Due to crazy fluctuations in the price of silver, which is the main metal I use in jewelry making, I’m not very interested in working in my studio. Not yet, anyway. I’ll probably cover the consequences of silver’s price increases in another blog post.

I flew my drone not long after arriving and setting up. I’m trying to get more practice with my drone — a DJI Mini 4 Pro — so I can take advantage of its incredible feature set, which should make drone videography easy. Although this is a great place to fly, the scenery is not very inspiring. I’ll probably play around with the following features this weekend.

Here’s a look at the bigger picture of the area. A canal separates the BLM-managed desert from the start of a huge agricultural area. There are lots of empty campsites this year.

I made two trips into El Centro to pick up an Amazon package; the package wasn’t there the first day so I had to go back the next. I did some grocery shopping, filled one of my two propane tanks, mailed some earrings to one of my Gallery clients, had an excellent Chinese food lunch, and did a few other chores. On my return the next day, I buzzed right to my destination (a UPS Store), got my package, and came back all before 9 AM. El Centro is a 30-minute drive each way on I-8. I’ll likely run out there again on Tuesday morning, which is when they drain and clean the hot spring tubs.

Other than that, I’ve been very lazy. I make one or two visits to the hot spring tubs each day, encountering various people who are also camped here. A lot of those people are full-time RVers and many of them spend up to seven months here. The campground is remarkably empty this year and I realized that it’s because the Canadians haven’t come down. The weekend will likely bring day-trippers. Sunday is usually the worst, with four-wheelers on their way home from the Glammis dunes east of here stopping in with their kids, who really ruin the calmness of the place. I take my ebike from my campsite to the tubs — it’s a 0.6 mile ride each way.

The hot spring tubs are right at the I-8 freeway, although the exit to get here is about a mile down the road. It’s amazing how well I can tune out the sound of the vehicles. We’re only 6 miles from the Mexican border here, so those mountains in the photo are in Mexico.

I bought a pool thermometer at Walmart the other day and have read temperatures ranging from around 100°F to 108°F, depending on the tub. I like it around 102° to 104°F. I’ve already broken the thermometer, so I’ll buy another (and be more careful with it when I go into town on Tuesday, if I don’t go sooner.

I’m a bit sad about this year’s visit because I really think it’ll be my last. Once again, I’m finding myself in a seasonal rut and I need to shake out of it. That means doing new things in the winter. I’ve already decided that art shows in Arizona are a waste of time and money for me; much of my work is Navajo inspired and does well in Washington state, but in Arizona, I’m competing with Navajos and, simply said, they do better work than I can. But again, I’ll address my evolving jewelry making business in another post or maybe a video.

Last night I got a sudden urge to just break camp and go home in the morning. I can be home from here in two or three days, depending on the hurry I’m in. But this morning, when I woke up and looked forward to a hike along the canal with my pups, followed by a soak in a hot spring tub, I decided that another 10 days wouldn’t kill me. It’ll be around 80°F every day this week. And sunny. The nighttime lows here are about equal to the daytime highs at home. I’m going to enjoy it while I can.

If you want more info about the hot spring, check out the video I did back in 2022. Yeah, I’m reading a script and I look like shit because I was still in the middle of my long hair phase — seriously, what was I thinking? — but there’s some good footage and a description of the place. I like it here.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I got a request from one of my YouTube subscribers for more information about boondocking in an RV. This is a topic near and dear to me, as I spend a good portion of every winter camping for free on public land in Arizona and California. It’s a nice, inexpensive way to enjoy nature and solitude. Kind of like having your own mobile Walden Pond.

Boondocking Defined

Boondocking — at least the way I see it — is camping without any RV hookups or conveniences. Although this is usually done in parking lots (think Walmart) or on public land, you can be boondocking in a campground if that campground has no services. It basically means relying on your own equipment for power, water, sanitation (toilet), and food storage/prep. It usually refers to staying in a vehicle or RV, although I suppose you can do it with a tent, too. (I’ve already had enough tent camping in my life, so I won’t address that here.)

I’m about halfway through my three-month winter trip now, having boondocked in the following places:

• Pahranagat National Wildlife Refuge, south of Alamo, NV off route 93. This is technically a campground, but its free and has no hookups, although it does have pit toilets.
• Boulder Beach Campground, Lake Mead, NV. This is a campground and it charges a fee, but there are no hookups for RVs. There are bathrooms, however and centralized water spigots for topping off a tank and there’s a dump station, so I’m not sure if this really counts as boondocking.
• Constellation Park Campground, Wickenburg, AZ. Technically, this is a campground, but since it has absolutely no services except garbage pails, I may as well be boondocking out in the desert, which is what I actually prefer.
• Litchfield Park, AZ. I boondocked for four nights in a parking lot while I participated in an art show at the nearby resort.
• *You can get detailed information with photos about my New Mexico campsites in a recent blog post titled “New Mexico Explorations.”

  Isleta Resort and Casino*, Isleta Pueblo, NM. I shared an enormous parking lot with a few big rig trucks, a giant fifth wheel camper, and a few Sprinter vans.

• The Box*, Socorro, NM. This was a BLM trailhead parking lot with the filthiest pit toilet I had ever seen.
• Old Ladder Ranch Road*, south of Truth or Consequences, NM. This was a BLM dispersed campsite on the Rio Grande with a horrendous access road.
• City of Rocks State Park*, south of Silver City, NM. This was a state park campground with no facilities other than pit toilets although there were some electric/water sites in the park.
• Walmart parking lot*, Silver City, NM. Although lots of Walmart parking lots no longer allow overnight parking, this one did and was actually suggested by a ranger at Gila Cliff Dwellings.
• Dispersed Campsite* north of Lordsburg, NM. At least I think that’s where I camped. Nothing there except open range cattle and power lines.
• Cave Creek, AZ. I boondocked for four nights in a parking lot in town (with permission) while I participated in an art show in town.
• Seven Springs, north of Carefree, AZ. I tried the CCC campground but there wasn’t enough sun so I spent the next two nights at what may have been a campsite in a parking area. This was BLM land.
• Arizona Sonoran National Monument, between Gila Bend and Buckeye. I’m here now. It’s BLM land. There’s a campground called Margie’s Cove but the road was so gnarly and narrow that I stopped about 3 miles short of it and found a nice level spot right off the main road. There are two other campers who did the same thing, but didn’t get quite as far as I did. I’ve been here for four nights and will leave tomorrow.

My plans for the next few weeks include three nights in a full-hookup campground followed by two full weeks at a BLM long term campground at Holtville Hot Springs. After that, who knows?

Boondocking Equipment

To boondock with some level of comfort you need appropriate equipment. The equipment you have will determine the level of comfort and convenience you have.

I’m not going to cover the bare minimum because everyone’s idea of “minimum” is different. I personally would not hit the road with plans of boondocking with anything less than I have. Other folks — and I’ve met some of them — are perfectly happy sleeping in the back of their hatchback car, using public toilets, and eating fast food. That’s not me. If that’s you, you don’t need to read this blog post.

Instead, I’ll cover what I have and other versions of it that might appeal to you.

Camper

A camper is a vehicle or trailer designed with a living space and related equipment. It could be a van, motorhome, travel trailer, tent camper, or slide in truck camper like I’ve got. It basically has a bed, a bathroom (or toilet), a place for storing and preparing food, and a place to eat meals or do work, like a table with chairs or benches. It usually has the ability to store fresh and waste water.

Each type of camper has its own pros and cons. I’ve had a bunch of different types. Large campers like my old fifth wheel (36 feet long with 4 slide outs) are very comfortable, but a pain in the ass to park or travel with. I’d never get my old fifth wheel in where I am now and wouldn’t even try. Small campers are tight on space, forcing you to either live inside your box or spend a lot of time outdoors. They might also lack convenient amenities. What works for me might not be what you want so I can’t advise you. All I can say is that you should have a good idea of what you want and where you want to go before you buy something. A friend of mine who wanted a small pull trailer with a walk-around bed, bought the first one she found; oddly, it came with an AC powered refrigerator, forcing her to stay at campgrounds or run a generator when parked. Not smart.

My truck camper sits atop my pickup so it can go and be parked anywhere my truck can. Inside is a queen sized bed, a table with bench seats that seat three and converts into another bed, a bathroom with a toilet, sink, and shower, a three burner propane stove and oven, a two bin sink, a three-way (propane, AC, and DC) refrigerator and freezer, propane hot water tank, 40 gallons of fresh water storage, 30 gallons of blackwater storage, and 30 gallons of graywater storage. It has a microwave and an air conditioner that only work when the camper is plugged into power. I have lots of windows, two overhead vents with fans, and a skylight. There’s lots of onboard storage, including a slide-out pantry and a clothes closet. It’s very comfortable — and currently for sale. (I’d like to switch to a small motorhome.)

Here’s a shot of my rig this year, boondocking at the Box near Socorro, NM. I usually do not have that utility trailer with me. It limits where I can go, although it does provide me with nearly limitless storage options.

Off-the-Grid Power

If you’re going to boondock in comfort, you need some sort of off-the-grid power solution. That’s normally solar power, but some folks stubbornly (and stupidly, in my opinion) rely on noisy generators to keep their camper batteries charged.

But first you need to understand how you’ll use the power you’ve got.

Understanding Power Usage

When your camper is not plugged into power at a campground or in someone’s driveway, it’s using DC power from the batteries on board. If the batteries are not charged, they will eventually run out of power. You need to know what the capacity is and have a way to monitor remaining power. In my camper, my solar panel controller displays current voltage and that’s how I monitor it. You should have a setup that works for you and use it.

What uses power? The basics are the lights, which are likely all DC so they’re always available. Then there’s your vent fans, water pump, heater fan, and refrigerator thermostat. (I highly recommend buying a camper with a 2-way fridge. That’s AC and propane. DC refrigerators will wear down your batteries at an alarming rate.) If you have an inverter that enables you to plug in AC devices, that has vampire power when turned on and uses even more power if something is plugged in and drawing power.

To boondock in comfort without having to listen to a generator the whole time you’re parked, you need to know how to monitor and conserve power. I could write an entire blog post about that. The bottom line is this: know what draws power and how much it draws. Conserve power whenever possible.

Solar Panels

All of my recent campers have had solar panels professionally mounted on the roof and wired into a solar controller that charges the onboard batteries. While some people believe that a solar panel is useless unless it’s pointed directly at the sun — requiring manual repositioning or fancy solar tracking — they are wrong. My two roof-mounted solar panels (100 watts each) will fully charge my camper’s two batteries on a typical Arizona winter day. That’s full sun in the southern sky. Because my panels are mounted on a slightly slanted surface, they get more sun if I point my rig to the south, but I don’t bother doing that. I don’t need to if I’m parked in a spot with sun all day long. The panels get enough sun on them to work.

Here’s a drone photo of the top of my camper. You can see the two solar panels permanently mounted on either side of the skylight. They are wired directly into a solar controller that is wired, in turn, into my batteries.

The benefit of mounted solar panels? You don’t have to do a damn thing to get them to work. No pulling them out, plugging them in, moving them around, worrying about theft. They’re just up there working during daylight hours.

I also have a portable solar solar panel (160 watts) I bought years ago. I had my camper wired with a two prong plug that goes from that solar panel’s controller right into my batteries. So if it’s not very sunny or I’m using lots of battery power, I can charge my batteries from a total of 360 watts. But these days, I’m traveling with a utility trailer that has an inverter on board and its own two batteries. I’m using the portable panel to keep that battery charged and using that battery to keep a portable battery pack charged. (More on that in a moment.)

I bought this folding portable solar panel at least 8 years ago; the same capacity is about one quarter of the price now. I can plug it in to provide more power to my camper or the batteries in that cargo trailer.

As we all know, solar panels only make power during daylight hours. And once a battery is full, it’s full. For this reason, it’s a good idea to use power hog conveniences early in the day. I do my dishes in the morning, right after breakfast, and do not do them after dinner. This way, I’m not running a pump late in the afternoon or at night when the batteries can’t get charged back up. The other day I wasn’t thinking and took a nice hot shower late in the afternoon. The result: I started my nighttime hours with 1/4 discharged batteries instead of full ones. Fortunately, I didn’t need much heat overnight so it was all okay, but I won’t make that mistake again.

Generators

Onboard generators make charging batteries and running appliances like microwaves more convenient. Flick a switch, the generator turns on, and you can run just about anything you like. But do you really want to listen to that noise? I can assure you that the folks quietly camping nearby don’t.

And yes, you can have a portable generator. I travel with a Honda 2KW generator I bought about 25 years ago. I have not used it yet on this trip. However if the weather turned cold and cloudy, I’d likely have to run it a few hours a day while boondocking. Cloudy means less solar power. Cold means I need to run more heat to stay comfortable. I don’t want to go to bed with my batteries at half capacity. So when I have to, I’ll pull out that generator, fire it up, and plug in. But it’s my personal goal to not have to do that. I don’t want to hear my generator any more than I want to hear someone else’s.

Portable Battery Power Packs

Lots of companies make portable battery packs, often with built-in inverters and USB ports for powering devices. Late last year, DJI (the drone maker) had its battery packs on sale for 50% off. I bought a DJI Power 500 unit for $250. (If you click the link, you might still be able to buy one for 40% off; I suspect they are being discontinued. I really like mine.) It has 2 USB-C, 2 USB-A, and 2 AC outlets. It tells me exactly how much power is left when it’s turned on so I never run it all the way down. I bought it because it had the option of charging off a 12v car power source; when I’m in transit, I charge it with my truck.

Although I’m using it now to keep the battery in my laptop topped off as I type, I mostly use it to run my StarLink Mini, which is a bit of a power hog and a definite luxury. Having something like this is handy, especially if you’re driving a lot between overnight campsites (so you can charge it) and you’re already using enough camper power when parked.

You might also want a few phone charging battery packs handy. I’ve got five 10,000 mAmp packs that I keep charged in case of emergency. I usually charge them in my truck while underway, although I can easily charge them off my camper batteries early in the day on a sunny day.

Water

Your camper should store a reasonable amount of fresh water for its size. I’m pretty sure mine holds 40 gallons. I can easily make that last more than a week without seriously cutting back on usage.

When I know I’m going to spent more than a week boondocking between RV refreshes (more on that later) I bring water jugs. I have four 6-gallon jugs, although I only brought two of them with me this year. I fill them when I refresh the camper and carry them in my truck. I have a battery operated fuel transfer pump I use to pump water out of the heavy jugs into my water port.

I should mention that I have three “flavors” of water on board.

• Tank water is the water I store and carry in my onboard water tank and refill from the jugs. This is water I wash things with.
• Filtered water is water in reused one-gallon plastic water jugs that I fill from a water source through a water filter on my own hose. This is water I cook with.
• Spring water is water I buy in one-gallon plastic water jugs. This is water I drink and make ice cubes with.

I know this sounds a little extreme, but who the hell knows what’s in the 18-year-old water tank in my camper? I definitely do not want that going into my body. As for the drinking water, if I don’t like the way water tastes, I won’t drink it. I prefer spring water, although I will drink Brita-filtered tap water at home.

Connectivity

I prefer camping in remote places and the big problem with that is Internet connectivity. While I know some folks claim they like that, I don’t. I like the option of being connected wherever I am. So when I go places where cell service is not an option, I set up my StarLink Mini.

And yes, I know Elon Musk is a rich, crazy asshole who is filling the sky with satellites that will eventually drop down to earth, likely killing someone. I hate him just as much as most democracy-loving, greedy billionaire-hating folks do, if not more. But I also know that if I’m in a remote place and my truck doesn’t start or I’m hurt in a fall or from an animal encounter, I want a way to communicate with the outside world. StarLink is currently the only viable affordable solution.

(Plus, I really bought it for my boat so more people would want to charter it and I’d make more money on charters. So there.)

In general, however, my cell phone does provide sufficient coverage. This is a good thing because StarLink is a power hog and I do not want to sacrifice camper battery power to use it — which is why I bought the DJI portable battery solution discussed above.

The RV Refresh

I spit my time between boondocking and staying at campgrounds with hookups primarily so I can do what I call an “RV Refresh.” For example, when I came back into Arizona from New Mexico and prepped to boondock in Cave Creek and beyond, I booked one night at the Cave Creek Regional Park campground with a power and water hookup. Afterwards, I spent four nights boondocking in a parking lot and another three nights boondocking at Seven Springs. Then back to one night at the Regional Park for a refresh.

On a refresh, I do the following:

• Plug into power. This tops off my batteries (in case conditions haven’t been good enough for solar power) and switches my refrigerator to AC power to save propane. It also enables me to run a tabletop electric heater, which is a bit quieter than my propane/dc fan heater and also saves propane. And I can use the power to charge my ebike and any other item I have that needs a lot of power to charge up.
• Connect to water or top off my water tank just before departure. I don’t always connect directly to city water supplies, although doing so gives my water pump a rest. But I always completely top off my fresh water tank with filtered water coming through my hose. I’ll also fill any water jugs — big or small — that are empty and stow them for future use.
• Dump black and gray water tanks. If the site has a full hookup, I do it just before I leave. If the site has a dump station, I do it on my way out of the campground. If a threaded hose is available at the pumpout station, I’ll use it with the SaniFlush system on my camper to rinse out the black water tank. I also add chemical and a half gallon of water to my blackwater tank so it can swish around and further clean the tank as I get on my way.

Ideally, I like to do this after every 5 to 10 days of boondocking, but I can go as long as 14 days if I need to.

I don’t like full hookup campgrounds, mostly because they’re like parking lots. Here I am parked at one in Albuquerque, where I had some business in December. The main benefit of staying here was that I was able to do a complete RV refresh (and laundry) before I moved on.

Finding Places to Boondock

This is where a lot of people get hung up when they want to boondock. They either don’t know where to go, think they are limited to Walmart parking lots, or are afraid to get into the relatively remote areas where the best boondocking can be found.

I have no solid answer for you.

One thing you should know is that you can camp just about anywhere on BLM (Bureau of Land Management), NFS (National Forest Service), or some State land. For example, Arizona State Trust land allows camping but you need an annual permit. I think it costs $30 and you can buy it online. Keep an eye out for “No Camping” or “No Overnight Parking” signs and stay out of wilderness areas with motorized vehicles. (There’s actually a wilderness area just south of the road I’m parked along; I’m on the north side.) I have driven up into the mountains near Mount Rainier (but not inside the National Park) and found campsites right off a forest road that have been perfectly fine (and legal) for boondocking. BLM, especially in Arizona, Utah, Nevada, and Southern California, has thousands of acres to camp on.

Last July I drove up a national forest road in Washington and found a turnoff with a fire ring. I spent the night in the total silence of the forest.

In the winter of 2020/21, I found a spot along the Colorado River Backwaters about 7 miles south of I-10 where I was able to camp for 2 1/2 months without being bothered by anyone. I had a mile of backwater channels to paddle my kayak, which I actually left in the water at my campsite. I set up my jewelry studio and took my camper off my truck. The only problem with all of this is that you’re supposed to be limited to 2 weeks in any one spot. But I really think that rangers who come by (admittedly seldom) will turn a blind eye to a camper with decent equipment who keeps a neat campsite and doesn’t cause trouble. I tick of all three of those boxes.

Some of the BLM long term areas in southern Arizona and California do require that campers pay a fee. That’s the deal at my next boondocking destination, the Holtville Hot Springs. If I camp within one mile of the springs, I have to pay a nominal fee and am limited to two weeks. But if I camp just beyond that — which I’ve done for short stays — it’s free.

There are apps that help you find places to boondock. Although most were free — in the true spirit of boondocking — everyone wants money these days and now they’re not opposed to getting you to subscribe to an app that pulls data from free sources. I have an app called Ultimate CG that lists all the free and commercial camping options, with filters to help you weed out the ones you won’t want. To my knowledge, the app is no longer available but the same guy makes a bunch of apps, each of which focus on a specific type of camping option. It still works, although it’s not exactly reliable.

One neat app I recently found is from Garmin. It’s called Tread and although it’s free, it does require you to set up a free Garmin account. (I already have one for my boat electronics.) What’s neat about it is that if you display the correct layers and/or tap on the map it’ll tell you who owns the land. Here’s what it looks like for where I am now; it clearly shows boundaries for the BLM land and wilderness area, as well as the location of the BLM campground.

One way to find good spots is to talk to other boondockers. A friend on Mastodon, my social media of choice these days, recommended a number of spots — including the one I almost got to here. Most of them were a bit too remote or at higher elevations than I was looking for in a winter site, but it’s good to know they’re out there. And although I was supposed to go another three miles on this road to an actual designated campground, there’s nothing stopping me from pulling over in a suitable spot to camp along the way. Yes, the campground would probably be nicer, but you don’t need a campground on BLM or National Forest Land to camp. Just don’t damage trails and vegetation by driving over them with your rig and don’t dump gray or blackwater.

Be Considerate

One more thing I want to mention about boondocking.

Don’t park right next to or even near another boondocker, especially when you’re out in a remote area. Chances are, they’ve come all this way to camp in privacy, without other people nearby. They don’t want to see or hear you and your pets or kids or generator. They found their spot; keep driving to find yours.

This is common courtesy. There’s a lot of land out there; there’s no reason to cram yourself in near other folks trying to enjoy it on their own.

Enough?

That’s all I’ve got for now. If you think I forgot something, let me know in the comments. If there’s enough to add, I’ll do a Part II for this post.

I just want to finish by saying that boondocking is the closest you can get to real camping in an RV. Taking your luxury motorhome to a KOA and plugging in between two other rigs is not camping. And with the prices some of these places charge these days, you might be better off driving something more fuel efficient and staying in motels.

Boondocking gives you a chance to be out in nature in a place where you can enjoy your surroundings. If you haven’t tried it, what are you waiting for? Prep your rig and get out there!