The Chirping

Like any good story, this one begins with an American cockroach. No, no…an actual American cockroach of the insect variety, the extravagant and speedy bug who makes its home in the moistly dark crevices of the southeast. And, like any good story, it begins as our heroine makes ready for departure to faraway lands.

The thing about cockroaches is, if you see one, you have got to presume there are thousands. This was my attitude the day before I pulled up stakes to leave Florida for all points west. A day that had been reserved for mental prep became a ten hour frenzy of emptying my life into a tent and cleaning my RAV4 (The Ramper) from stem to stern. It got the works, including vacuuming, disinfecting, and a car wash, with every effort to discourage the critters without harming them. (Yeah, I know – but I made a vow) Peppermint spray and elbow grease seemed to have done the trick and for several days there were no further sightings.

Four days later I stopped in a casino parking lot in Louisiana for the night. Oddly enough, there were  hundreds of little starlings everywhere. So, when I was woken up at 4 a.m.ish to a clear and present chirping, an instant dread settled over me. I just knew there was a bird somewhere in my car. But, like any storied heroine, I went through a period of denial and pulled out of the parking lot tout de suite, thinking the bird was most likely beneath my car and I’d left it behind.

I didn’t hear the chirping again until – I did. It was coming from the driver’s side air vent and it was so near it seemed the bird was just within hand’s reach - quite a startling sound when cruising route 10 at 75 miles an hour. Somewhere west of Houston I pulled off at a gas station, opened my doors and popped the hood, gloves on. Serious about finding this little bird, I even engaged the help of someone at the pumps who scoped my engine with me. No bird. Called my bro who said if it was a bird I would most likely hear more than chirping.

So, I began researching the mating call of the American cockroach. Was it possible this sound was a festering nest of bugs chirping at odd hours? Yes. Probable? Hmmmm….

For two days, I heard the chirping. It chirped when the car was off. It chirped when the car was running. It chirped at 3 a.m. It chirped in the middle of the day. It went hours without chirping, and then it would chirp chirp chirp.  

Certain it was not an insect at this point, I googled how long it would take a baby bird to die without food or water.

I was now at a primitive camping spot in New Mexico where I had decided to spend a few days. My grief for the bird pervaded everything and when, after 48 hours, the chirping stopped entirely, I have to admit I spent some hours in all out sobbing. I thought to myself I would never have come on this trip if I knew a little bird would die under my watch. I thought, what could I have done? And, I also waited…for the smell to come.

Four days passed, no chirping. No smell.

So, off I toodled to another primitive camping area outside Roswell, New Mexico, thinking the gods were with me, my soul singing songs of gratitude.

And, yes, you guessed it. Chirp. And again, no rhyme or rhythm to its frequency or timing.

So. Not a bird.

This is the point where you should show concern for our heroine’s incapacity to employ rational thought in a critical situation. My inability to distinguish a mechanical chirping from a bird is a tad alarming. By this point, my powers of Googling had also completely let me down and it is only through my brother’s diligence that he found a single article that led us to believe it could be something battery or alarm box related. 

Oh! I can tell you now it became immediately clear that the chirping sounded like a smoke detector when the batteries are dying.

Um.

My first stop to remedy this problem was AutoZone in Roswell. These folks were terrific. They didn’t just leave it at testing the battery. They disconnected the battery, cleaned the corrosion (the probable culprit), and spent a good half hour listening to my absurd story.

This was three days ago. So far, I haven’t heard a peep.

Or a chirp.

Nor have I seen an American cockroach. At least not in my car, anyway.

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Post script: An alternative title to this article was “Should’ve called Rob.” In an effort not to bother too many folks, I didn’t call Rob – the only one in the family who works in the car service industry. So, yeah, there’s that.

And finally… To allay further concerns as to our heroine’s state of mind, she knows to take her car to the dealer and get this issue officially put to nest.

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Travel gear highlight: Campros Screen House

10’ x 10’ Screen House for outdoor living

This screenhouse really surprised me in a good way. Took less than 10 minutes to set up by myself and so affordable. I really thought I'd be sending it back because the price was so good. It was a wonderful surprise and provides a much needed outdoor living space in the mosquitoey heat of the south.  

For those fellow wanderers who have signed up for my blog – thank you! Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here. Please note: Amazon affiliate links are links for which I may get a small percentage if used to purchase something. Thank you! :)

I Have Got to Tell You...

Since I’ve last written (and I know it’s been a minute), life as a nomad, as you might have suspected, has been pretty much an unexpected chain of events. Where to begin? With the mold infestation that took a few painful in-breaths and my very knowledgeable friend to realize was growing on the underside of my sleeping platform, the coven of tiny moths convening inside my vehicle in the middle of the night, or the sudden onset of and supremely annoying jumpiness anytime I think a bug is brushing up against me? And then there is the army of yellow flies and their blood thirsty campaign as they battle for existence. Yes dear reader, has it only been two months since last we spoke?

I have got to tell you – except for precious moments spent with my daughter, I have never been more at peace or happier in my life.

Ah, Florida in spring! My love of living outdoors nearly trumped common sense when I thought it was possible to continue living in The Ramper and a screen tent in 97 degree temperatures. It was early May when the first heatwave hit and by May 7th, I had moved into a 10’ x 10’ tiny house with…an air conditioner! Undisclosed location here in central Florida has been more than good to me.

Putting aside so-called difficulties, my life is pretty dreamy. To dig into the root of my contentment, I would say that this lifestyle has led me to experience significant internal freedom away from the social contract that drives a consumer oriented society. You can only get so far away from it living in the west – but day by day the things that I have clung to are revealed to me and ultimately easier to let go of. Believe me, I am still a consumer, but my selections are guided more by what I actually need – physically and in all the other ways one cares to imagine.

When forecasting my financial future before selling our home and letting go of 90% of my possessions, I realized I was working to work. Almost everything I spent money on – property taxes, home expenses, gas and electric, the car, clothing – sustained my job and the stuff one needs to fill an 1100 square foot living space. Sure, my job allowed me to raise one heck of an amazing daughter. But now she is grown and the freedom (and relative cheapness) of living this way has given me the time and money to focus on organic, wholesome living. My extra dollars are spent at the grocery store where I no longer have to trade price for goodness. It has been interesting over the months to observe my mind grasping for Amazon. Each week that goes by, I am grateful to feel this inclination wane. 

An additional health benefit is the opportunity to actually see daily what is coming out the other end (here she’s goes again). Yes – I spend time looking at my poops and peeps every day (one can’t really avoid it when living this way). Because of this, my hydration and digestion are well tended.

Certainly in life problems arise. And, one day I may not be able drive or I may need to purchase a home for whatever reason. But, as each day goes by, my mind wanders less and less to Zillow, seeks less for “security”, worries less about tomorrow. I have met long timers on the road who say it takes years to lose the niggly sense that one needs a sticks and bricks house, that something is missing. By spending time doing the things that make me stronger free from certain constraints and habits, I am building an internal core that I hope will see me through when life is…perhaps a bit less dreamy. I think that ultimately this makes me physically healthier. And healthier in all the other ways one might image.

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Practical tips

Life on the road is different for everyone. For me, I thought my yearning was for the freedom of travel. After a year and a half, I see that staying in one place for a while is where true freedom is for me. For those just starting out, expanding your vision and loosening expectations will allow the road to unwind as it will.

Keeping a RAV4 SUV sleeping platform mold free.

MOLD on your platform? Not uncommon, so don't worry. Leave it in direct sunlight in a baking hot car for a couple of days if possible. Then , take it out, clean with vinegar, let dry. Drill some holes (larger than a 50 cent piece), paint with a product such as Kilz Mold and Mildew. Be sure to use damp rid or kitty litter ( or similar item) to absorb moisture on the day-to-day.

BUGS? Window screens are essential. I use these. Make sure they are properly in place. Bounce dryer sheets placed inside your vehicle and cotton balls with peppermint oil are useful. I also make and use a room spray with organic essential oils.

Bug spray recipe (includes links to my Amazon Affiliate store): 3 parts witch hazel (3/4 cup) – Dollar General has the best buy on this product

1 part water (1/4 cup)

10-20 drops each (or more if you like): lemon eucalyptus, peppermint, citronella essential oils

I use these bottles.

FLORIDA IN THE SUMMER? The beauty of living in a vehicle is you can just drive on up the road a bit until you catch a breeze. I’ll be heading north ways myself…very soon.

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For those fellow wanderers who have signed up for my blog – thank you! Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here. Please note: Amazon affiliate links are links for which I may get a small percentage if used to purchase something. Thank you! :)

And Then They're Gonna Kill Ya...

Flying Eagle Wildlife Management Area

“You carrying?” Cal had driven his pickup truck right over the open field of the campground and couldn’t have pulled up closer to my campsite if he tried, his elbow-lean and head-swing out the driver’s window lending both a proprietary and avuncular intention. The diesel fumes from his pick-up continued to burn through the air between us as he let his engine run for the duration.

“Ah, no”

“Didn’t think so.”

“Why’s that?” I asked

“Pretty young thing like you. Should have some kind of weapon. Otherwise they’ll do what they want with you and then kill ya anyways so’s ya can’t tell on ‘em.” Oh, Cal.

Cal talked on for a bit and then got to his main point, letting me know the real danger out here was immigrants with guns, apparently a danger both to me as well as to Cal’s taxable income.

I had arrived at one of Southwest Florida’s Water Management District campgrounds at mid-afternoon, luckily pulling in after another female camper who showed me how to maneuver the locked gate – a complex and necessary procedure to ensure the integrity of this remote and protected free recreation area. As one of only three campers, and with ample space to maintain solitude, my initial thought was, wow, this is the spot for me!

The lane in was draped and dappled by the swag of live oaks which towered in canopy over saw palmetto and a mixture of young hardwood and scrub. As part of the Withlacoochee River watershed, Flying Eagle Wildlife Preserve is surrounded by the Tslala Apopka Chain of Lakes and is a puzzle of swamp, lake, and marsh that supports an abundance of  wildlife and rare plants. Embedded Cypress stand like prehistoric gatekeepers along the waterways, creating a feel of isolation – an eerie addendum to my introversion.

Cal approached me a couple of hours after my arrival and our conversation began innocently enough. He was the self-appointed caretaker and picker-upper of trash, and apparently the rescuer of damsels pre-distress. He and his wife lived on the adjoining property and had the gate combo. “They don’t really want me in here,” he grinned. “But I clean up the place.”

Cal apparently had an agenda, other than wanting to make sure I was scared out there on my own. He wanted to make sure I knew who to be scared of.

It took me a beat, but in my middle aged, no longer giving-a-crap mind, any worries of appeasing this guy flew away.

“I am way more afraid of drunk white guys than I am of immigrants,” I replied, instantly hearing my mother in my head – Mary and her mouth.

“Really?,” Cal could not hide his surprise for a moment. “Ah, now I’ve got ya riled. I’m just kiddin' ya.”

Okay, Cal.

We then proceeded to have a neighborly conversation about the Ramper because, well, you know – I’m a woman and can’t let a man go away feeling bad. He told me his wife would love to see my setup and that I was welcome to stop by their place anytime. We parted with a smile, but I was left with an indistinct uneasiness that I was ill-prepared for solo camping, never mind the fact I’ve been doing it for years.

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This exchange happened during a week I recently took to explore and test out my skills camping in more remote locations on my own. I had left the comfort and safety of my current campsite among friends and wanted to try out boondocking in various places as well as explore some of the free camping options the state of Florida has to offer.

Like most places we go, the energy of others is contagious and I have felt that my best “defense” is a positive attitude and a genuine smile. Yes, I do carry a safety whistle, pepper spray and a stun gun (which I learned how to use after a year on the road). However, none save the whistle and the smile do I ever see myself using. While there have been times over my decades of camping that I have felt uneasy and heeded my spidey-sense, never have I felt like I truly didn’t belong somewhere – until very recently.

Among the many “female” only traveling groups online, there is frequently a discussion of safety. We lament that oftentimes men do not understand that women and other fairer genders naturally expend more awareness energy when men are around. Matters are made much worse if a man approaches us, no matter the reason and no matter how innocuous they may seem. I can only speak for myself, but as a rule of thumb I would advise men to carefully consider before approaching a female camper for any reason, especially if they are alone. It may be hard to understand if you identify as male, but please take my word for it.

What Cal didn’t understand is that it was inappropriate for him to drive up to my campsite in a truck, by himself. As you can imagine, it sent my heart racing and my blood flying. Mix that together with his comment about my need for a gun, well – it’s a prime example of what a man should not do.

In mixed camping groups online, some men have responded that if a woman is afraid, she shouldn’t be camping alone. We are not afraid. It’s simple. We are not afraid, but we do become uncomfortable and wary when someone twice our size drives up to our site in a diesel fuming truck with details of our impending demise.

Ultimately, I am thankful for these types of encounters. Sometimes you don’t know what you don’t want until you experience it. I’ll trade in a little bit of solitude for the friends who love me.

We’ll leave the dismemberment worries and guns for those who are afraid.

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For more information on Southwest Florida's Watershed Management District recreation opportunities and free camping options, please visit their website. Do be aware that air boats travel through or very near to some of these camping areas and are very loud.

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Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here. Please note: Amazon affiliate links are links for which I may get a small percentage if used to purchase something. Thank you! :)