Life in a Motor Home

I always planned to have a stable, permanent home, probably in the Midwestern area of my birth. Instead, my life has turned out somewhat like that of young people in our current economy—I have shuttled around the country as my work and personal life have dictated. From various parts of the Chicago area to New York (and quickly back again), on to the San Francisco Bay area, and now to the Sierra foothills. My husband and I did have a comfortable old home in Alameda, where we lived happily for nearly 20 years, but after his death staying there was too expensive for me. When I met my companion a few years later and moved to the foothills, it was time to downsize considerably. I did so with a vengeance, using some of the profits from the house sale to buy a motor home.

I had no experience with RVs, but fortunately my companion knew a great deal about them. For about six months he took me to motor home salesrooms and expositions, teaching me far more than I wanted to know on the subject. We looked at everything from the smallest teardrop campers to ridiculously huge and expensive Class A motor homes. Soon it became clear that the ideal RV for me would be a Winnebago View, model H. The View is a 24’ Class C, large enough inside for all the essentials I wanted, but small enough to drive nearly everywhere. Its width—about a foot narrower than most motor homes—especially appealed to me. On a narrow road, that could make the difference between disaster and success.

To be sure that the View was the right choice, we rented a similar rig for a week end trip to a state park. Having an errand to run at Stanford, I drove through the campus streets before setting off for the campground. That seemed like a good enough test, as I didn’t run into anything. Driving to the state park along narrow winding roads proved to be more difficult, and I knocked off a rearview mirror on a tree branch that jumped out at me. In spite of that, I knew it was time to buy an RV.

We went to La Mesa RV in Davis, which  we had visited many times. The salesmen had probably grown tired of us, but were happy to sell us a new View with just the right options—a simple brown and beige color scheme, an absence of leatherette, and washed maple cabinets. (For some reason, in recent years most RVs have had cabinets in dark colors. Though these look fine in a brightly lighted RV lot, the interiors must be really depressing and coffin-like when the rig is in a rainy forest!) The View model H had a cab-over bed, which is reached via a ladder; we would have preferred a walk-around bed like that in larger rigs, but space prevented it. (A second model had a bed in the rear that was cut off at one corner, and a very small bathroom; the third available model had single bunk beds. Neither of these was right for our needs. The recent Model M has a couch that unfolds into a real, inflatable bed and has other improvements.)

By the time the rig was delivered, it was November—too late for a long summer vacation, but we would take some short trips anyway. We drove my small car to La Mesa, inspected and paid for the View, and drove off in it happily. A few miles down the road, we realized the car was back at La Mesa.

The first outing, in January, was a quick trip to Yosemite National Park. Only a few campground sites were open, and they were snowy, but the lack of people competing for space in what is a much-too-busy park in the summer made it a wonderful experience. We drove to the foot of Yosemite Falls one morning, had brunch at our dinette table as we gazed at the falling water, listened to ice breaking up at the top of the falls, and hiked a short way along the ice-filled Merced River. We saw only one other couple there.

Since then we have traveled across the country and up into Canada. (For some details of our longest adventure, you can purchase our CD, A Hundred and One Nights in a Cab-Over Bed, for $15. Simply write to us at StoneCottage2@Juno.com.) The View has been like a second home—one with a new scene outside the windows every day or two. One caveat: I would not be able to travel in it alone, as many women do, because unscrewing the valves to dump the black water and gray water tanks takes more hand strength than I have. Otherwise, I find it easy to drive and care for. It's a wonderful life!

Solar Cooking

It’s a sunny day, and I’m baking banana bread in our solar oven. As this way of cooking is usually slower than using a conventional oven, I use half the usual amount of ingredients and end up with a small loaf. Here is my half-size recipe:

BANANA BREAD 

Pre-heat solar oven for half an hour or so. (The temperature will probably go no higher than 275 degrees.)

Grease a small loaf pan or round cake pan. (A dark pan works best.) Place in mixer bowl:

2 T salad oil

2 small bananas, sliced

Beat with mixer until the bananas are a smooth pulp. 

Add and use mixer to stir until moist:

1/4 t vanilla

1 large egg

1 C Bisquick baking mix

1/3 C sugar (or sugar substitute plus a pinch of baking soda)

(opt) ½ C chopped nuts, wheat germ, or blueberries

Beat 1 min with electric mixer. Pour into pan.

Bake 60 min. minimum, and check for doneness. (Depending on the weather and time of day, it may take more time. Today it takes only an hour.) Cool 5 min. Use knife or spatula to loosen from pan.

For apricot bread, substitute 1/3 C apricot puree for the bananas.

My oven is a large glass sphere enclosing a black metal bowl. The whole assembly sits inside a shiny metal reflector that directs the sun’s rays into the oven. Food can be cooked in the metal bowl, but I usually set a smaller pan inside it to hasten cooking and make cleanup easier. The whole system sits on the front porch, pointed toward the sun.

I bought the solar oven when I moved in with my partner, whose home is off the electrical grid. It’s from Solar Cookers International in Sacramento. (Disclaimer: I have no connection with the store, except as a satisfied customer.) We have a lot of fun using it, but more important, we use less fuel for cooking. An added bonus is that the kitchen stays cool in hot weather. The oven works extremely well for banana bread and other Bisquick-based recipes, for stews and other foods requiring long, slow cooking, and for heating water. (Why waste fuel on heating water for washing dishes when the sun will take care of the job?) Some users swear by their ovens for cooking vegetables, but I have had some problems with overcooking them. 

The company that made our oven sends many of them to countries where fuel can be scarce and where the sun shines for much of the year. Though we usually use ours from June through September—we live in the Sierra foothills in northern California—in areas that are closer to the equator, the season for solar cooking can be longer. As many such areas are impoverished, having an inexpensive way of cooking large amounts of rice, beans, or other staples is important.

Solar living is trendy now, and it is common to see large arrays of solar panels on apartment buildings and factories. As environmentalists, we are delighted to see the interest in alternative energy sources. We only wish it were less expensive for ordinary people to invest in the solar panels, batteries, and associated equipment. At present living off the grid is limited to die-hard environmentalists like us who are willing to make some sacrifices (having only a few solar panels and batteries, we must limit our use of electricity severely), and to those wealthy enough to pay the steep prices for solar equipment. In the future this may change. If the cost of fossil fuels increases, and if voters demand it, the government may begin subsidizing alternative-energy companies and helping homeowners  lessen their dependence on oil, gas, and nuclear energy.

Second-Hand Shopping

My obsession began back in the sixties, when I was a young bride with a student husband and with little money. Someone pointed out that if we couldn't afford good furniture, it was better to buy inexpensive, used items that could be replaced in a few years. That made sense, but I soon discovered other virtues of buying second-hand items.

We were living in Chicago, at that time a gold mine of old oak furniture that was no longer stylish. I found some things in a Salvation Army shop that not only was a gigantic warehouse, but even offered free delivery. Since then I have furnished several apartments and houses as I moved from Chicago to New York and on to the San Francisco Bay area, selling and replacing things as needed.

My greatest successes have been with century-old buildings where used furniture can be passed off as antiques. By the time we bought a rundown Craftsman in 1995, we had a respectable collection of restored used furniture and inherited antiques that looked right at home in their new surroundings. Today, following an estate sale and considerable downsizing, I am furnishing a small home in the Sierra Nevada foothills that was built in 2005. This has been a major challenge, as the house calls for modern furniture.

Anyone can profit from buying used items, but young people can do best; they will have many years to replace bad buys, change their tastes, and let good investments increase in value. An oak glass-fronted bookcase that I bought for $40 in the sixties and refinished moved with me around the country. There was always a place where it was useful and attractive. Decades later I sold it for several times what it cost.

Though it is good to keep an open mind about what you may buy, you need to have a general plan before venturing into a thrift shop or estate sale. Otherwise, you can easily become confused, spend too much, and end up with a jumble of mismatched items. You should think about your color scheme (a favorite painting can give you a good idea of what colors can be successfully combined) and the style of furniture you are looking for. In general you should avoid looking for current styles, because they have not yet made their way to used shops—instead, try to think in terms of classic styles such as Craftsman or Scandinavian Modern. When in doubt, remember the sage advice of nineteenth-century designer William Morris to “have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.” This may limit your purchases severely, but it is better to buy too little than too much. On the other hand, if you fall in love with something unusual, maybe that tells you something unexpected about your tastes. If you have not already invested heavily in another style, you can revise your plan.

Shopping for wood furniture and small decorative items can be done relatively efficiently; you can tell at a glance if something is right for you. Buying clothing and other fabrics is harder, because most shops have large arrays, with little indication of size or style. My approach is to move along the racks quickly, looking only at the colors and fabrics, then pulling out any that look promising for closer inspection.

You can find second-hand things everywhere, especially in the current economy; to make the best use of your time look in the richest sources:

·               Garage sales are rarely good, but if you can look at one conveniently, go early in the day.

·                College towns can be good places for shopping, especially for books, office items, and miscellany. Wasteful students may throw out valuable things to avoid the bother of moving them; you can take advantage of their improvidence.

·               Upscale areas are another source. The residents may get rid of good furniture or appliances just to buy for a new trend.

·               Thrift shops can be good or poor sources. Usually there is at least one outstanding thrift shop in an urban area.

·               Estate sales are by far the best source I’ve found; the furniture tends to be of higher quality than elsewhere, and the sellers are motivated to sell at reasonable prices. (I once bought an entire mahogany dining room suite for $200. It was in mint condition.)

·               Antique and consignment shops are sometimes surprisingly affordable. In addition, shopping in them will help you learn what good furniture should look like.  Often an antique is a better bargain than a new item, and will eventually increase in value.

I keep a notebook containing floor plans, fabric swatches, measurements for windows, and so forth in my car at all times, and carry a tape measure in my purse. Being able to measure items or compare colors can save making ill-advised purchases of items that can seldom be returned.

            Usually whatever you bring home will need some cleanup or minor repairs (which may make an astonishing difference). You can be prepared by always having on hand important items like Murphy’s oil soap, Old English scratch remover (both dark and light), sand paper, and ammonia.

Always be looking for something—you may or may not find it, but you are likely to run across other useful things in the process. Serendipity is part of the fun.

As a frugal consumer, I have found second-hand buying both profitable and enjoyable, but there are other, more important benefits: When you buy something that has been previously owned, you are not using wood or other resources that would have been consumed for making it new. You may be saving an item from going to a landfill. In most cases, you are contributing to a charity or to a seller who needs the income.