Dlog: Heading West, A New Chapter Begins.
Well, we did it.... We did the thing we set out to do.
We travelled down the East Coast in our restored Vanagon.
We visited family, we visited friends, we made new friends and we made new memories.
For a while, we couldn't tell you what came next and we were happy with that. But now that chapter has come to an end; it's time for a new chapter and new adventures.
For us, this new adventure unofficially began when we left Fanning Springs, FL (our family-friends' vacation home) for the second time, this time heading West. Recently we have gained a newfound love and appreciation for the Vanagon, sparked by some quality-of-life changes me have made. In the last two weeks, I've redone the entire electrical system including wired lighting/switches/panels, revamped the propane/cooking system and added roof racks to hold a much larger solar panel and our soon-to-be solar shower. Jesse has made some upgrades to the kitchen including a new cast iron, mounting mason jars to hold coffee/tea/spices and we even got a little tiny vacuum cleaner. (Next on our list is a solar shower, an under-body water tank, sink gray-water and maybe an awning. Hopefully I'll soon be able to link a post about those updates here.) This has all been the result of a mindset change on the sustainability of life on the road. We're in the midst of a transition from staying at people's houses to being on our own in the wilderness and that will come with a whole slue of changes and learned behaviors.
As an aside, you're in luck: I've recently been reading John Steinbeck's "Travels with Charlie in Search of America" and his writing style has been quite inspiring. I've written this Dlog largely in his style, mostly for fun. Enjoy!
So without further droning... "The Dlog: Heading West. A New Chapter Begins."
-Max
Thursday, March 27th
We woke up in Fanning Springs, FL with a plan to leave. On the itinerary: hit a hole-in-the-wall oyster bar we heard about from a friend and find a place to sleep for the night South of Tallahasse. Maybe we'd head into town, maybe we'd stay rural, we'll see...
Our recent battery of van upgrades has me looking into roof rack options. Through a completely random and unexpected stroke of luck, I found a set of adjustable aluminum truck roof racks hanging from Tony's garage rafters. I pulled them down and retro-fitted them. Near-perfect fit, they'd just require some light bending. I shot Tony a text and he responded "Take them and use them," two of my favorite words.
So today's plans changed: I'd install the racks tonight and we'd leave tomorrow. Perfect.
Among other strange maneuvers I made to get these racks on, I needed to slightly bend the racks to fit the angle of the fiberglass. After walking around staring at different heavy, flat and blunt objects with my hands on my hips, I settled on literally hitting them with a sledge hammer. It worked great.
Friday, March 28th
After a solid 6 hours of work the previous night, I needed to finish up mounting the roof racks, then we'd be on the road. The holes were drilled in the racks and the fiberglass, I just needed to make a water-tight seal between the roof racks and the pop-top that wouldn't mar the fiberglass material and could support the weight.
Some of these van work projects are very product-oriented. If you have the right product (chemical, paint, putty, knife, fake-wood material, whatever) it's easy and clean. If you don't have the right product, it can be messy and kind of sketchy. Sometimes, though, you have no idea the perfect product exists and you're forced to hodge-podge things together to get the right effect. Thankfully for this project, I knew exactly the product I needed; I'd seen it used to mount solar panels on a metal roof in a school bus conversion on Youtube. It's generically called "butyl rubber tape" or "RV putty" at Ace Hardware. It's a thick putty that can take a ton of compression force to create a water-tight seal intended for mounting accessories on RV's like solar panels or windows. The stuff is great.
I'd been all over town the previous night looking for this putty with no luck. Tractor Supply, Walmart, OReilly Auto, Dollar General, no luck. So I went back out to Ace, showed a knowledgeable-looking associate the page of what I needed and he walked me right to it. Nice.
The install went great and we love the look of the new racks.
Jesse's mason jar install gives a really homey feel to the van. One of numerous changes we've made for more functionality, too.
And we were off. Really off this time. Off West; the first page of our new Chapter with a fresh set of roof racks!
Oh wait, first we stopped to visit a fellow Vanagon-er I had met yesterday in the Tractor-Supply parking lot. Their 1982 diesel-swapped Vanagon is their tow-vehicle behind their 1970-something greyhound, diesel, V8, 4spd manual bus they live in full-time, which they promised to tour for us if we stopped by. Cool.
We drove an hour up the coast to an oyster bar that our friend Ian (a Vanagon friend south of Miami) recommended.
Then we hit St. Mark's, a cool little river-peninsula town near the Gulf. No places to boondock, so we moved on to a trailhead I'd scouted on the map. We arrived at the quiet trailhead where Jesse began preparing dinner and Max headed out for a bike ride.
I like to use these bike rides to scout potential places to camp, or just adventure. Two wheels allow you to go places that would just be uncomfortable for a car: it kind of unlocks an exploration you wouldn't otherwise have on four wheels. Sometimes, like today's ride would prove to be, this effect is great. Other times, like the ride I went on yesterday as I write this (4 days later), adventuring on questionable gravel roads leaves you 5 miles from anything, staring at a "private property" sign, swatting at bugs and wishing you were back on pavement.
Today my adventurous two wheels brought me down a National Wildlife Refuge road, where I spotted possums, deer and an enormous bore, and finally dropped me out into coastal clearing, followed by a beautiful beach, maybe 100ft long, with a few cars and a notable absence of signs stating the prohibition of what I was planning to do there: sleep in our van.
The sun was coming down and my personal preference is for arriving to camp before dark. Some van-lifers prefer to arrive after dark, for stealth reasons, but we favor safety and comfort over "stealth." So in a frenzy to beat the falling sun, I texted Jesse a selfie at the beach, followed by "back in 20, be ready to leave", clipped back in and sped back down the gravel road. Turns out she didn't get my text, but we were back on the road in a few minutes and at the beach shortly after that.
We switched on our recently-installed 12v lighting, finished cooking dinner, settled into our books and got to sleeping.
Around 1:30, Jesse woke up to the coastal wind blowing our pop-top fabric erratically and stepped outside. There was a pleasant lack of bugs thanks to the increasing wind and, if memory serves, it was a particularly dark night thanks to a new moon above. She mentioned the water had risen since we went to bed, and a few minutes later I stepped outside to experience the night. The water had again risen with the wind and a future in which our wheels were underwater became somewhat real in our minds.
Even with our slow pace of travel, you never quite settle into an environment and you never really know what level of fear is appropriate. For all our northern-raised brains knew, this coastal wind would've been the start of a hurricane, or a freak high tide that carried us away. A naïve, mild panic ensued and we rolled back down the road to a trailhead where all the bugs had fled to finish the night.
Saturday, March 29th
Oops, we overslept. Our eyes opened and bed-heads lifted around 8:30. Once again we rolled back down the gravel road, parked at the beach alongside some kayakers and made coffee.
The is the truly the perfect setting for the Vanagon. We take up a single parking spot, yet our sliding door opens wide to the world and creates the perfect patio to throw out some chairs within an arms reach of basically everything we own.
After some time at the beach, we meandered down the gravel road for the last time and headed South down route 98 on the coast. I'd wanted to spend some time in Apalachicola National Forest, so after a quick stop at a farm-stand for veggies and eggs, we left the coastal route 98 for a detour down some forest roads.
We passed a number of primitive campsites on the way and we always take mental notes of potential places to stay the night. On the other side of the forest, we emerged on a main road and quickly found a quiet parking lot where we set up to cook lunch. Shortly after, I went out for a bike ride to peruse for more places to camp for the night.
There had been a recent prescribed burn in the area. So recent, in fact, that many logs were still smoldering and even the slightest wind would still pick up ash and carry it through the air.
After my ride, we decided the most convenient thing to do was stay in the parking lot for the night. We'd only seen one truck drive in then out the whole day and it was quiet, peaceful and easy.
Sunday, March 30th
Happy Birthday Jesse!!
Our plan was to make a quick breakfast (maybe just coffee/tea and a bar) and get on the road for a relaxing beach day, then head in to Panama City where we'd be staying the night for a dinner at a brewery, or really anywhere that piqued our interest.
Not 5 minutes after we cheers-ed our drinks, around 7:30am, Jesse caught Lola frighteningly jump back from a bush in the parking lot and skitter back to the van. Jesse half-laughed at the weird behavior but Lola was immediately acting lethargic and we wondered what might have happened under that bush.
Jesse went over to look and quickly saw a snake curled up right at the bottom of the bush. Checking back on Lola, she clearly had a bite mark forming on her lower jaw. We called Jesse's dad who has some experience with snakes, took photos, killed the snake and started trying to find help immediately.
We quickly learned there wasn't an emergency vet for nearly 2 hours in either direction: one in Tallahassee and one in Panama City, where we were headed. We stopped at a state forest campground across the street to ask the host if there were any services available. He said no, that he hadn't seen a snake in that campground in over 2 years, but that there's a humane society just down the road who may be able to help. They were closed Sunday, but we stopped in anyway.
Two older ladies answered the door, one of whom said there's nothing they can do, but that the closest hospital is 2 hours away in Tallahassee. The other woman asked if she had dew claws and if we'd already removed her collar. Their neck swells, she said.
"Yes, why? and Yes." I responded.
"Then she'll be just fine. Take her collar off and she'll be just fine.
"Don't listen to her, that's an old wives' tale" the first woman let me know.
At this point in my life I know the dew claw has nothing to do with it, but I'll let myself be comforted by a wives' tale if it sides with Lola's odds.
Jesse suggested we go to Tallahassee, "It's 15 minutes closer," she said. I turned left out of the Humane Society, towards Panama City. In our Prius I'd be far less dissuaded by an extra 3 hour drive back West to save 15 minutes to the vet, but those 3 hours weigh a good two tons more in the van.
We called Jesse's dad back, who informed us he identified our grainy and distant photos as a pygmy rattlesnake; good news for Lola. It was only about 12in long, yet seemingly fully grown, which helped with the identification. Because of it's size, it would have used much less venom, and pygmy's are known to be non-lethal in humans and even smaller animals.
Despite this good news, the now 90 minute drive was growing on us. We each had waves of heavy emotions and tears for Lola's uncertain future as she drifted in and out of consciousness and extreme lethargy. We had called the vet, informed them of our situation and provided some basic information so they would be ready for our arrival, in case immediate action were necessary.
They took her in shortly after arrival and we sat nervously in the waiting room for 45min, then another 15min in a private room. They brought her back in and she wagged her tail all over the room. Not quite with the intensity of a normal day, but she looked much better. We assumed they'd given her a slue of drugs and treated the bite somehow.
They handed us a Treatment Plan with a big number at the bottom and it turns out they hadn't administered any of those treatments yet. I'll spare you the knitty-gritty details of why we made our decision, but we denied the vast majority of their proposals, which included antivenom and two nights of overnight care on the basis of positive blood coagulation test results and the considerable risk of immune reaction to antivenom itself (hence needing to stay in their care for two more days).
We left with antibiotics, blood coagulation medicine, some pain killers and a slightly wonky dog.
We picked up white rice, chicken and unsalted bone broth at the store and proceeded to a local waterfront state park to prepare lunch for us and Lola. Rain poured down several times throughout lunch, perfectly par for the course today. She was quite happy to eat which was really good news to us, but we still only gave her a few bites at a time to avoid nausea.
I'm happy to report as I write this 3 days later that she is alive and well, sleeping soundly on the couch across from me.
Jesse had mentioned pizza a few times already throughout the day, so I found an Indian-Italian fusion pizza restaurant nearby. "Call in whatever" I said and hopped out of the van to pick up a treat from Publix. The lady at the Bakery counter was kind enough to write "Happy Birthday Jesse!" in chocolate frosting on a 6" New York Style Cheesecake, and for all she knew this was a normal, mostly uneventful beach-day birthday.
Luckily I had arranged a "Boondockers Welcome" stay in town, so accommodation was not an issue for us that night and we rolled in safely to a concrete pad in someone's backyard somewhere in Millville, FL.
Monday, March 31st
The most exciting thing that happened today was the clerk at Target price-matched an $80 handheld Bissell vacuum cleaner at $51 from Walmart, despite the price clearly displaying as $60 at Walmart from my screen. Score.
We didn't want any excitement today, anyway.
Tuesday, April 1st
We made coffee, loaded up at ALDI, and headed West along the beaches.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm addicted to Google Maps. Jesse has this joke where I just pinch-zoom in and out on my tiny little phone screen repeatedly, looking at different places on Maps. That's not to say I don't like surprises, and we do have our fair share of sporadic side-road adventures. If I have scouted an area, most of the time I'll arrive with a pretty good idea of what to expect, but sometimes I am just way off.
Today I planned a beach day for Jesse to make up for the one we were supposed to have on her rainy, snake-bite birthday. Several people had informed me Miramar beach was a great one, so that was the destination. We rolled up to several spots on Miramar beach, fully prepared to be pleased by the beach but feeling very... put-off, even disturbed, by the ritzy-ness and spring-break-yness of the whole situation. So we battled with a good 15 minutes of being at each others' throats, each mostly aware that it had nothing to do with what was being said.
The plan after the beach was to drive up to Blackwater River State Forest for the night and hopefully find a good spot to camp before dark. But I couldn't really let it go, the whole beach thing. The plan was beach and that was the plan. Jesse had already made her stance clear: "it's fine" but beach was the plan.
There happened to be a sliver of National Wildlife Refuge along the main road with a mostly empty parking lot. We pulled sideways, filling barely two spots including our bike rack, with our door open to the beach and made lunch. There were 4 remaining bagels out of 6 in a brown-paper bag from a local bagel shop we had picked up that morning, 2 of which were waiting to be turned into egg sammies. This sandwich-making exercise was a breeze thanks to our new (to us) propane system. It's really the simple pleasures that satisfy in this lifestyle.
We packed up and headed North for the Forest.
For the first time today, my Google Maps addiction paid off, and the 30 minutes I spent scouting Blackwater State Forest led us directly to a beautiful canoe launch down a few miles of lightly-technical state fire roads.
I headed out for a bike ride while Jesse did some around-the-van self-care things like meditation, journaling and cleaning up a bit. We strung hammocks and enjoyed the first night away from droning exhausts and bright lights we had in months. Even the bug presence was magically low.
Strava Ride:Wednesday, April 2nd
Ahhh, peace; serenity. We woke up refreshed and proceeded with a slow morning of sending some texts, lounging in the hammock, making coffee and single-, double-, triple-checking the brush around the van for snakes.
Jesse got out for a run to a state park access point with a river-beach, showers and parking lot exactly 2.7 miles from our campsite, most of which was state fire road. The plan was to drive the van over and meet her there. I lounged in the hammock and played pine cone fetch with Lola for what felt like hours, and shot up to check the time. Phew, only 15 minutes had gone by.
Packing up camp was once a nightmare for us. In Colloquial English, one might say our process is "down to a science," but I'd prefer to describe it as an art. It's the little, minute changes we've made to the process, like where to store the garbage and when to deploy the chairs, that have decreased our time-to-departure so much.
I bumped and bounced down the fire road over to the parking lot, smiling all the way for how cool of a van I was driving. Manual, boxy, great ground clearance, socially charming and currently my home. What else could you want in a vehicle right here, right now?
We read our books on the river-beach and took a surprisingly pleasant dip in the river, shortly followed by use of the outdoor shower. Then we made lunch and I spent the next few hours writing this beautiful thread here. For this you have John Steinbeck and Myself to thank. You're Welcome.
Thursday, April 3rd
We naturally arose quite early and left Blackwater State forest quickly, thanks to our improvement of stuff management in the van. We peacefully drove the backroads along the coast. We finally left Florida! Not that we didn't like the place, but after feeling like we had spent most of our travels in Florida, it was a thrill to finally be out of there! We crossed the border passing the famous Flora-Bama bar.
Friday, April 4th
We woke up unrested and slightly grumpy, but knew that we would be getting hot showers and a real bed soon. We decided to stop in Mobile, since the Jenkins would be busy during the day, and go to a coffee shop to get some laptop work done. As we were sitting a public parking lot in Mobile around 8AM, trying to get ourselves presentable enough to enter a respectable coffee establishment, a man approached the front passenger window of the van. This is not a particularly unusual experience for us, so we waited for the usual questions (What year is this? Where are traveling from? Are ya'll living in this?). This man did not ask any of those questions. As he approached, Lola stuck her head out the window and he sidled right up, started petting her, and said hello. From there, we struck up a short conversation, where we told him we were traveling through and asked if the coffee shop we planned to patron was any good. To which he replied, "I don't know, I'll have to check my list", without any further explanation. He ended the conversation by asking if he could give Lola some unfinished eggs he had in a doggy bag from a restaurant down the street. After brief protest from us, and at his insistance, we took the eggs. Lola was quite pleased with the whole interaction.
"Florida is calling us back!" We had barely left the state and had already celebrated our departure, but we were heading back across the border. The Jenkins were absolutely Lovely to us. It was a perfect reset location for us, and we had a lot of fun just hanging out with them.
Saturday, April 5th
Today, we went to Fort Pickens with the Jenkins and explored the old military fort with dogs in tow. This is Lola atop one of the fort's parapets.
Chloe, the Jenkin's daughter, introduced us to a wonderful culinary experience called Hack-fil-a. This involves buying chick-fil-a sauce, fried chicken strips, pickles, and potato rolls from the grocery store and assembling your own hack-fil-a sandwiches on the beach. Honestly, this was pretty amazing.
Sunday, April 6th
We said goodbye to the Jenkins and celebrated our second departure from Florida. There was a huge storm front we had to drive straight through and it was probably the hardest wind and rain that we've taken the van through. We stopped North of Biloxi at a coffee shop named The Common Grounds Project to wait out some of the worst of the rain.
We made it to De Soto national forest and found a dispersed campsite at the trailhead to some mountain biking trails. There was one trailer there when we arrived, but we saw that they were packing up to leave. Since it was still drizzling outside, we set up our laptops and started getting some work done. The folks across the way were fascinating to observe. I don't know why they were in a rush to leave, and I don't want to know. But it was a chaotic and entertaining ordeal. Jesse was lucky enough to have been watching when their disastrous climax struck and their trailer jumped off the hitch and crashed into the muddy ground.
Monday, April 7th
Tuesday, April 8th
If yesterday was a cozy day at home, today was an errands day. And a very successful errands day! Max installed the new Solar Controller and then we drove into town to return the old solar controller and solar panel. Next, we picked up the hardware we would need to install the new Solar Panel!
We arrived, with hardware in hand, to the home of the couple who listed our new solar panel on Facebook Marketplace. They had bought the panel for their sailboat, which they were living on, but had recently ported in Gulfport, bought a house, and decided to stay! We asked if we could just install the panel in their driveway and they agreed. I don't think we could have fit the pabnel inside the van anyway, but it was still nice of them to let us mess around in driveway for about 40 minutes installing the thing. They even brought out a bunch of extra hardware and a drill for Max to use in the installation. After running all our errands successfully, we drove back into the De Soto National Forest to stay the night.
Wednesday, April 9th
Time lapse of the sunrise at our National forest Campsite
We planned to drive into New Orleans, but didn't have much of a plan once we got there. As we drove, we decided it was necessary for us to stop at a coffee shop. These coffee shop stops are way more essential to our mental well-being than you might expect. Something about that space is so comfortable and familiar. There is something about the $7 latte, the too-cool-for-school baristas, the metrosexuals, the overpriced baked goods, the indie music, and the free wifi that just soothes us. Maybe its just that we like to work in companionship with others, even if those others are strangers. Maybe it's like visiting a local bar for the modern day; you can see and meet locals without going out of your way, and no young people go to bars to socialize these days. Although, you would be mistaken if you thought this was a place of discourse. while the occasional conversation may crop up, it is rare. This is truly a place of parallel coexistence and it is what most young folks prefer. Let me get my work done, but let me do it in a pretty place surrounded by pretty people. And you must make yourself pretty as well in order to contribute. The rules are implicit and established and we find solace in that consistency.
After our needed coffee shop break, we drove the rest of the way into New Orleans still without a plan. It was fun taking our weird little van through this eccentric city. However, we couldnt really find a parking spot that felt safe and with the temperature rising and the unrelenting humidity, we worried that Lola wouldn't be safe in the van either. We cruised through the French Quarter and drove out to Bayou Segnette State Park to camp for the night.
Thursday, April 10th
This morning we both ran around the campground befroe the temperatures got too high. The humidity still made it difficult, but we were both able to take showers before heading back into New Orleans for another try at properly visiting the city.
On the way, we stopped at the Tree of Life located near Audubon park. This was initially supposed to be a quick stop, but we were so captured by the park that we ended up staying for several hours. There was a small wedding ceremony taking place under the big main tree, but the grove of larger trees next to the big one were empty! we set up a picnic and pulled out our books.
The Festival was in full swing when we arrived to the French Quarter. We were still very nervous about the van being broke into and about Lola over heating, but we did our best to vover the windows with reflective materials and use the fan to keep air flowing without leaving the windows wide open so that we could walk around a little bit. Our first stop was to Cafe Du Monde for some beignets which we ate while listening to a swing band performing on a nearby stage. They were delicious! Then we walked to The Central Grocery and Deli which is home of the Muffuletta sandwich . We wanted to stop somewhere for gumbo or crawfish, but all the restaurants we found were sit down places and we didn't want to commit that much time to a single meal. Although we feel that we didn't get to experience NOLA fully, we know that we would go back without the van in a heartbeat.
we left town and drove to Sugarfield distillery to stay the night. Got some amazing cocktails and mead which we ate with our Muffuletta sandwhich.
Friday, April 11th
We woke up and left fairly early from Sugarfield. We were tired of the business of the city and excited to get out into the woods for a little bit. We drove straight to the Kisatchie Forest and hung out in the parking lot for a springfed pond called The Blue Hole.
While we were there, we met a local man who recommended we camp out at Fullerton Lake Park for the night. We spent most of the day working on our laptops, playing with Lola and unwinding. Fullerton Lake was a perfect boondocking spot. There were even water spigots there and we slept well.
Saturday, April 12th
We woke up early to the sounds of bird singing and no other sounds. No distant highways or planes flying overhead. We were finally away from it all. A parl ranger pulled into the parking lot not soon after we woke and we ended up having a hour long conversation with him about the history of the area and his experience as a professional forest fire fighter.
Met the local Anarcho-capatilist
Had to get out of there, searching for a forest boondocking spot
We ended up finding the perfect spot. It was a national forest campground sitting on a lake/reservoir. Our spt was right on the water, there was good cell phone service, and easy access to the water. Absolutely beautiful! Instead of just recovering, it felt like we were really enjoying our stay here.
