Post RV renovation

A week later and here we are…

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this rug smelled like wet dog and contained more sand than a beach.
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under the rug was a shiny carpet pad, presumably to keep heat in.
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initial tile layout
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nearly done!
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fancy schmancy transition pieces… a professional look from an absolute amateur!

Camper renovation week

pre reno Lillie

This week, I’m working on our camper Lillie as we prepare for the Tranquility Tour in (!!!!) two (!!!) weeks. I’m planning on a video montage thing for it, but here’s the scoop on the tasks this week:

  • priming and cleaning up the (awful and fake) wood paneling
  • painting the newly less awful surfaces
  • shoring up some of the looser panels in the ceiling
  • installing a battery meter panel so we can tell how much juice we have when we’re not attached to an electrical line
  • cleaning and refilling the water tank
  • washing and waxing
  • cutting out the (very old) carpet and retiling with a new floor
  • re-attaching all the doors and drawers that have been removed for painting
  • getting a quote on a paint job (maybe)

I’ve already taken Lillie to a local mechanic and she got a clean bill of health outside of the cruise control. Apparently the part that is needed is no longer made… I might be able to replace it with a newer version of a cruise control system that doesn’t include a balloon (apparently that was how it worked back in the day… then we invented “computers” and Steve Jobs took all my money before he went to Valhalla or wherever he is now). We’ll see… but I digress.

More to come this week… I am currently covered in primer and need to take care of that.

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PS I have a lot to write about the bike trip still. I may need to do that soon.

Bonnard

When I left DC, I knew it was possible Kimberly’s beloved “first born” might not be there when I returned. We’ve known for months that he’s got a bad case of the big C, and I also know he’s burned through 8 of his 9 lives a few times over through hard living. At his peak weight, he was the equivalent (we were told) of a 400 lb. man.

And although he doesn’t care for me (at all) and although he definitely tried to kill me in my sleep once (suffocation, in case you were wondering) I’ll confess I’m going to miss the little devil. He was part of the package deal that came with Kimberly and I don’t know a day with her that doesn’t include her mean ol’ cat.

We’ll bid adieu to Bonnard this weekend, but oh the stories… we have enough to fill three lifetimes. Bonnard’s ghost will be with us through those.

Take care buddy…

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Wildlife + Ghosts

Yesterday I ran into two creatures that I shot…. with my iPhone camera:

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I also biked past a “ghost bike” for a guy who may very well have been struck on that spot:

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Very sad, and as you can see by the date, the incident probably happened since I was last biking here. I think bike touring is fundamentally safe, but like all things in life, there’s always a risk.

If you want to destroy my sweater

The title of this post comes from a Weezer song which has very little to do with sweaters. The post itself has very little to do with Weezer. So there’s that.

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Yesterday I lost my wool sweater. It fell out of my bags about 10 miles short of camp just over the California border. When I realized it was missing, I went through the seven stages of grief, sliding into acceptance. So be it. The bike tour gods willed it so.

Then something remarkable happened.

A guy from Utah piped up… “Hey, what color is it? I think I saw it.”

“Dark Green.”

“Yeah, that was it – it’s by the lilly farm about 10 miles back.”

“Ahhh, yeah.” Acceptance stage was already cooling. “Well, losing things happens on tour. It is what it is,” I said with a casually dismissive tone.

“Oh, I’ll go get it.”

“What?”

“I’ll go get it.., it was only about 10 or 15 miles back!”

After several minutes of profusely thanking him for his (batshit crazy) notion, I thought all was settled that he would not go bike 90 minutes and 20 miles to rescue a sweater for a guy he hardly knew.

About 87 minutes later, the group du jour sitting around the fire were enjoying a beer when someone asked where the guy from Utah went.

“No. No, he did not.”

“Didn’t do what?”

I explained the sweater rescue plan that was scuttled – or so I thought.

On cue, in the finest tradition of stage and screen, my sweater rolled into camp securely bungeed to the rear rack of a very, very crazy dude’s bike.

So, next time someone asks why I like bike touring, I’ll show them my sweater. Because there’s no way I can in good conscience lose it again…

The people that you meet when you’re biking down the street

No signal at Humbug Mountain, so this Saturday post comes to you Sunday.

The last few days have included the usual interesting array of dramatus personae for this little tour:

– the trio of Mexican university grads who (as a gift to themselves) are biking from Alaska to home in Guadalajara. Fun group and great stories.
– the solo expat Brit who, despite being a Spurs fan (not you San Antonio), is a funny and interesting guy.
– the dude with the camping hammock who probably wished he brought a tent given the dearth of decent trees at the sites… in Oregon. I know… define irony.
– another Brit (it is cool to say Brit, right?) who’s introduction was “hey I just biked 110 miles to catch up with the group!” and managed to impress everyone.

There are a few others but given the work day coming in Crescent City on Monday, I’ll be setting the reset button and will be traveling with a new group. They’re a day behind me right now. I’ll camp with that group for a few days before my work day in Fort Bragg puts me with the group two days behind me. It’s kind of cool that these work days maximize the number of people I’ll meet.

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Portland to Newport

What a great ride so far! The Goblin is behaving well, the miles are easy and all is fun. I had a work day in Newport today… Listen all about it over at pedalshift. A few fun things so far:

– first biker I saw was heading north… He glanced over at me, flashed the peace sign and said, “Life is good, right?”. Loved that. I didn’t hesitate to reply, “right on.”

– very international flair this time – last night I shared the hiker-biker site north of Newport with a couple who were Canadian and a Brit who started his ride in DC. He’s milking all 90 days of his visa til he flies out of SFO at the end of July, not bad. Tonight, my camp area are a couple from north of Paris who started in Vegas. The French are apparently immune from heat 😉

– county campgrounds in Oregon are now triple the cost of state parks if you walk up. Although I dearly love Pelican Pub in Pacific City, next time I won’t pay the premium to camp across the street.

– Newport ain’t ugly. Here’s the view from where I’m tapping this out:

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This was the damp, misty view at the aptly named Cape Foulweather:

Follow more over on Twitter – @timmooney and for more about working on tour at pedalshift. Lots of pics on Instagram too.