Oh, the places you'll go! (Remix)

"Congratulations! Today is your day. You're off to great places! You're off and away!" Dr. Seuss

Gas up your tank, there's no time to lose. Grab the wheel and steer wherever you choose.
You're on the road, you know where to go, 

And YOU are the one who will make it so.

You'll drive up and down streets. Drive high if you dare.
Some hills you will climb with not even one care.

With your van full of gear and your tank full of gas,
you laugh when you climb and a Prius goes past.

Climbing Pikes Peak

Oh, the places you'll go! There's fun to be had!
Your Volkswagen will take you,
so always be glad.
And the practical things you can do with your van,
the cooking and sleeping, but there isn't a can.
Damn! You know its OK,
there are public bathrooms
you'll find every day. 

Wilson dwarfed by the Redwoods

You won't understand if you've never been Free,
I'll try to explain just listen to me.
The places you'll see could be by the sea.

And where we go, we might see big trees. 

Oregon Coast

Or maybe you won't,
if when asked said you don't, 

have the time, you're too busy.
But, it's still true, 
that your time
and my time
could be OUR TIME too. 

You can hop on a wave, 
if you know how to surf. 
If the van was a boat,  
we could see the whole EARTH! 

Or, all alone!
Not often in Parks,
Alone you will dream of
when you're in the dark.

Traffic Jam in Yellowstone

And when you're alone, be grateful for quiet.
Because during the day, you'll find its a riot.
People will be here, and others are there,
It's often a thing that they'll be everywhere.

But on you will go,

you'll see the great places.
On you will go,
when you're off to the races.
On you will go,
with big smiling faces.
Upward, the lever, 
you shift into third, 
though your engine is screaming 
you're passed by the herd. 

And slowly one goes,
Right on down the roads,
The sun it keeps rising,
The sun it will set.
There are plenty of folks
that you've not yet met.

Sun setting by the Columbia River

KID, YOU'LL CLIMB MOUNTAINS!

Dawson Pass Glacier NP

So, if you're in your van, your camper or both,
When driving, no drinking, you've taken the oath.
You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
The Nations are waiting.
So... Get on your way!  

Grand Teton Mountain Range

Where will you go? What will you see? Who will you bring? Do you have a list? If you don't have one yet it's perfectly alright, but you have to start somewhere. Stop reading this and write down one place you want to go. Really, write it down. It doesn't matter if you have money or time right now, just write it down. Under it, write another place you really want to go. There ya go. Now you have the beginning of a list. If you have a list written somewhere go look at it. Do it. If you dream about travel, or you dream about camping under the stars, or climbing, or hiking or surfing, or just seeing the sights, the Vanagon is really quite an incredible base camp machine that you can sleep in at night. It can help you make those adventure dreams come true! Dream BIG! Work hard, work smart, live below your means and go get yours!    

Life in the slow lane

One thing about traveling in a 5000 lb vehicle powered by a 78 horsepower engine that was designed and manufactured when the speed limit on most highways was 55 mph is that you often end up in the slow lane. I often say that adventures in life are not always about the destination, but its always about the journey. Think in terms of life in general here. If we were all so focused on the destination then would anyone ever really live at all? We'd all be too focused on death to even consider living. Napolean Hill had a saying, that everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die. In Jack London's "The Sea Wolf" there is a scene where Hump is talking philosophy with Wolf Larsen. Hump had been at odds with the cook and they were eyeing each other while sharpening knives but neither man was bold enough to make a move to slash, fight or kill the other. In the end both men were cowards in that regard. Wolf states in a way that comes across as crass and sarcastic, that if one had killed the other they would only be expediting that person to eternity. Wouldn't you just be doing the cook a favor by helping him to his destination?... 

View from Pikes Peak

So, I had a small digression. No matter. The point is that cruising the highways of today in yesterday's vehicle has its pros and cons. On the bright side, when you are traveling in a relatively slow moving machine, you have a chance to take it all in. Figure it along the lines of stopping to "smell the roses" or even the parable of the tortoise and the hare. Being the tortoise with slow and steady progress is in itself a victory. This is all well and good as I often find myself traveling on what some people refer to as the blue roads. (On old maps, the back roads were drawn in blue, but today they are often thin red lines.) The secondary highways with their slower speed limits and the nice winding scenic routes they often traverse have much to offer for all the Vanagoonies of the world. Cruising in 4th gear at lower RPMs improves the vehicle's gas mileage and doesn't put too much strain on the squirrels in the engine bay. On roads like these the Vanagon is quite at home.

Though cruising in the slow lane has its merits, there are several courtesies that will make doing so more pleasurable for all those you encounter. One of my first lessons was taught by the extremely powerful (I kid) Toyota hybrid known as the Prius, and the lesson is, expect to be passed. When you drive a Vanagon, expect to be passed by others, even by the environmentally-friendly in their Prii (plural for Prius?). Accept it, and if you are on a two lane highway, I think it is good practice to occasionally put on the right turn signal, pull off to the side and wave others by. This practice will allow for fewer frantic drivers passing at inopportune times. There have been several near misses that I have witnessed even though I often do pull to the side. 

Wilson in the thin air over 14,000 feet!

Another lesson of the slow lane is that when you end up behind a heavily laden big rig (18-wheeler) that is slowly ascending a mountain pass with its hazards on, the best practice is to put on your hazards and stay in your lane. Attempting to drop down a gear and go around the slow moving monster often leads to two slow moving vehicles going neck and neck clogging up the entire road. You might think your van can pass and it is possible that it may, but the time it will take to get out and around the truck is often much longer than most other drivers are willing to wait.

The waning light plays with the fog in White River Junction

One time when I was driving up a large hill on 287 through NJ in a rain storm at night I found myself closing on a slow moving piggy-backed trailer with its flashers flashing away. I checked my mirrors and decided to take a chance. I put my turn signal on and proceeded to the middle lane. Just as the van crossed completely into the center lane, another truck that was coming full bore up the road behind me let me know I miscalculated the power of my passing gear by laying on his horn. My heart went into my throat and my van went back to the slow lane just in time to save my ass. 

Another lesson learned as I traveled across this great country of ours is that there are times when the speed limit far exceeds the capabilities of the mighty 1.9. Sometimes it is the grade of the hill you are climbing, and sometimes it is just the laughable speed posted on the highways of the mid-west, mountain-west and south-central USA. There have been several occasions where I had to downshift into second and even into first while making an ascent. It is recommended by some to keep the air conditioning off while making such ascents. The extra load on the engine will increase the likelihood of an overheat condition regardless of the vehicle make or model. That being said, Wilson has taken me up Pikes Peak, over Teton Pass, and along the Chief Joseph Highway without incident. In each of these places we have witnessed others who have had their hoods open and their engines smoking, so be safe out there. 

Chief Joseph is a beautiful winding mountain road.

In Texas, there are some two lane highways that have a 70mph speed limit. I learned quickly that if you are driving along such roads at a speed slower than 75 or 80, (which is not practical and often not possible in my van without favorable conditions such as the wind at your back and heading downhill) and you do not promptly move over for the 18 wheelers you encounter, you may find yourself being passed by said rigs on either or both sides of your vehicle depending on other traffic conditions and the size of the shoulder on the road. So, be safe out there and move over early and often.  

On Teton Pass- Yonder is Jackson Hole!

Another lesson to learn, especially when traveling in the central and north western areas of the country, is to always carry extra gas. Relying on maps and technology won't always help you if you miss the sign on the side of the road that says that the next gas station is 100 miles away. Other times you may just have to pass several exits that are spaced 20 miles apart that have small signs that read, "NO SERVICES" until you reach a tiny town in the middle of nowhere that has one store and a gas pump. Or maybe you are like me and you get distracted by conversation and forget to keep your eye on the often fluctuating needle. Whatever the case, a gas can can help get you there. 
 

Yay! GAS... oops. NO GAS!

Lastly, traveling in the slow lane offers myriad opportunities to see and do things in places you would have not otherwise considered. If its watching the waning sunlight over the small town of White River Junction in South Dakota, or having a beer in the tavern there. If its stopping on the side of the road to steal a kiss from the woman you love or if its finding the waterfall you had no idea existed, remember we likely only get to pass through here once, so make the most it!

The Maiden Voyage

So, you purchased your van after spending hours and weeks and then months searching and researching and looking for the right van at the right price. Then you spent hours and weeks and days purchasing and upgrading and repairing all of the little problems that needed addressing. In my case, Wilson needed an exhaust system installed, a steering rack, a couple of mirrors replaced, an alternator bracket, some brake work, and a few other odds and ends. Most notably, the fuel lines were still original and had never been changed, which was very dangerous. I was also amazed to find the little fire wall plastic piece, which fails often, still sitting in its happy home waiting to one day wreak havoc and incinerate this 30 year old machine.

After a few shake down trips to work out some more kinks (replaced axles, head light switch, water pump and throttle body), including several trips around town and a longer trip down the interstate and across state lines to visit a buddy, the time had come for Wilson and I to embark on our Maiden Voyage together. The plan was to drive over 600 miles from NY to VA to meet up with some friends at a trail festival, then head further south to the Tampa Bay area, where my brother, who is a mechanic, and I would get a chance to tackle a grocery list of repairs that would be easier to do with a lift and an entire shop full of tools.  

In the days prior to departure, I went through a check list of things that I wanted to bring and things I felt I needed to bring. Clothing, check, towels, check, bedding, check, bicycles, check, jumper cables, check, tool box full of common tools, check. The insurance plan that I purchased has 15 miles of free towing included in it so I didn't buy AAA (which I still haven't gotten, but it is on my list of things to do).

My mind raced and my body was filled with excitement. I counted down the days. I checked and rechecked and inspected and reinspected. I spent time washing and waxing and even began working on the luxury items in the van. I checked the kitchen and found the propane regulator had a big hole in it so I replaced it. I even went out and purchased a new radio so I would be able to play songs from my phone through the stereo.

Measure twice, cut once is a saying that I picked up in my days as a carpenter's assistant. I think its good advice. It doesn't only apply to woodworking, but to life in general. Make sure you are ready to go before you actually go. And after months of preparation, I was ready!

I don't know if it's like this for everyone, but when the long-awaited departure day arrived, I wasn't nervous. The feeling I had that day is not one that I think is easily described. I was jubilant, I was overjoyed, but I was also relaxed and confident. I was anxious, but I was also reserved. After saying my good-byes and making one last visual inspection, it was time to go. I unplugged the van, hopped in and set the refrigerator to DC mode. Then I jumped in the drivers seat, stepped on the clutch and turned the key. The engine fired right up without any hesitation and I took a few seconds to choose the appropriate song for such an occasion as this. I turned up the volume and heard the following sounds... Ba da, ch, Ba da, ch Ba da ch Ba da WILSON! Ba da ch Ba da WILSON!

I lifted my foot and away we went! For the most part I would consider the trip to be a gigantic success on many levels. There were a few minor challenges but none that stopped us in our tracks. The odometer that I thought I had fixed gave up on me, the fuel tank decided to leak if you filled the tank to the top, and at one gas station visit, the starter decided not to engage after fueling up. To remedy this I started to push the van down a small hill to pop start it, and was quickly lent a hand by a few good people in the station. Westfalia vans are not light and they are not easy to push, but many hands make light work and after a brief "oh shit moment", we were off and running again.

The only other pain in the ass about that first trip wasn't really a pain in the ass but a pain in my feet. I found out that the heater control switch was busted and heat continually poured through the vents. I had purchased a cheap oscillating fan that plugged into the accessory outlet, so I set it on the floor to help but it really wasn't enough. Otherwise, the seating was quite comfortable, in spite of the springs that I could feel through the worn out cushions. 

In all, the trip to Florida with a stop over in VA, TN, NC, and GA was a great success. The adventure lasted from May 9th to June 1st and was really only the first leg of an even longer and more amazing adventure through 17 Eastern States. When we arrived in Florida in time to celebrate my fathers 63rd birthday, after having been camping, hiking, boating, biking, zip-lining, fishing, all around adventuring I didn't care how much money it cost me to get there. I really only cared that we were there to celebrate, and celebrate we did! Cheers to many more Vanagoonie Adventures! Woohoo!!!   

Name this, a blog

I have always named my vehicles. I've even named my bicycle and my backpack. When you spend enough time with your objects, they can end up developing a persona. 

Incidentally, my very first car had a name when I got it. My uncle told me that if I replaced the broken water pump on his old 1984 Nissan Maxima wagon, I could have it. So, I grabbed some tools, bought a new pump and belts and went to his house. The next day, I brought Charlotte, the passion wagon home. After a few weeks of ownership Charlotte was the lucky recipiemt of an incredible makeover. A friend who was repainting his Rx7 had a little extra paint and it didn't take long to convince me to spray some paint on the hood. In retrospect, I actually gave it very little thought at all before we decided to add some character to the passion wagon. A few pieces of masking tape and some newspaper were used to add a giant peace sign to the hood.

Charlotte in her hay day. Look closely and see 69 on the hood.

When Charlotte died, so it goes, a friend in my college dorm sold me his 1982 Chevrolet Caprice. It was huge and the springs were worn. It bounced and swayed as it rolled down the roads. I called it, The Hoopty.

The Hoopty served me well in spite of the broken door handles and leaking gas tank, but its tenure was short lived. After taking a group of folks to see my favorite touring band Phish at the Clifford Ball in 1996 (an epic 2 day festival) and to my first real job, I traded up for a 4 door Oldsmobile. It was a 1984 Delta 88 and my stewardship of this vehicle was also short lived, but we journeyed together to the Great Went. (Another 2 Day Phish festival) Her name was The Great One because she "Went" and I love hockey. Gretzky's number was 99, she was an 88. 

The Great One at the Great Went

It didn't take long for me grow tired of the poor gas mileage associated with V8 engines so, I sold the Great One to a friend for a few hundred bucks and bought a 1982 AMC Spirit. It looked like a Gremlin (the car not the creature) but because of that, I named it Gizmo.  I drove it for about a year before the timing gears blew up and I had to buy another car.So it goes.

Gizmo - look close and you'll see the same 69 again here.

I bought a 1987 Acura Integra. It was Grey and had a manual transmission. It was my first Japanese car so I named it Mr. Miyagi. Bonsai!!!

When the frame rotted out from the harsh NY winters and all the salt on the roads I bought another Integra because I enjoyed the sports car feel and the gas mileage of the 4 cylinder engine. This one was my first white car and since it handled terribly in the snow due to the wide tires it came with, I called it Frosty.

I sold Frosty privately and took the money to purchase my next car. I bought it from a used car dealer in queens. 

Since my winter experience with Frosty was terrible, I was determined to have a good all season vehicle so I bought my first Subaru. It was from the model year 95 and had a broken windshield. The rear hatch had a label that read AWD so I thought I had negotiated a good deal when I paid the salesman just over 2 grand. He had tried to sell me a second parts car to accompany my purchase but I declined. It wasn't until I got home with the vehicle that I actually looked under the car to find out that it had been in an accident and the rear hatch was from the parts car that I didn't buy. This maroon Legacy was only FWD. I named it Thrust after the Decepticon of the same color. 

Suzy in beast mode

Thrust proved to be old reliable and was actually much better in winter conditions than I had expected. I wouldn't have traded up for another car had I not been divorced. I felt that if I were to be back on the "market" I would do better had I a nicer vehicle with lower mileage. Thrust had survived another rear end accident under my ownership and the odometer read 256,735 when I traded it in for a 1996 Legacy Outback wagon with just over 150k on the clock and a new set of head gaskets. 

Suzy handling the terrain

I named the green wagon after one of Phish's songs Suzy Greenberg because she seemed to "walk the streets like she's the queen of the town" and of course she was green. Suzy currently has over 265,000 miles on her and has served as my home away from home. (I actually lived in her for a while after my divorce) She has been off roading, on several long distance adventures along the east coast and has been one of my favorite cars. 

 

When I left to hike the Appalachian Trail, I left Suzy behind and started carrying this big green Gregory Forester pack on my back. The bag holds 77 liters of gear and weighs almost 4 pounds when its empty. I walked over 2000 miles with that monkey on my back. I named him Clyde after the orangutan in the Clint Eastwood film "Any Which Way But Loose." 

My bicycle I purchased for a fair price from a friend after her husband had passed. It has been a trusty steed to me so I figured it needed a good trustworthy horse name. I called it Chastity's Buckle because what good is a Chastity Belt if it doesn't have a sturdy buckle? 

Chaz for short, relaxing in Maine

Lastly, as you know I purchased a 1984 Volkswagen Vanagon in March of 2014. I had dreamt of owning the van for so long and worked hard to earn the necessary funds. I actually named him before I even found him. His sister Suzy and I were driving around and the song Wilson by Phish came on the radio. A lightbulb went off on my head and I saw Tom Hanks and his volleyball companion living on their remote island as the song played. I knew the van was going to be my adventure buddy for many years to come. It had to be... Wilson! 

Wilson enjoying the sunshine off the Blue Ridge Pkwy near Asheville NC

What names have you given to your vehicles? And Why? Please share in the comments section below. 

 

Welcome Home

Meet Wilson

Many moons ago, in the time after I arrived home from an epic adventure on the Appalachian Trail, I yearned for only one thing... more adventure. I had conceived of the idea that having an adventure-mobile would be a step in the right direction, but I had little money, no job, and I had no idea what I was going to do about any of the challenges that lay before me. I was not out on the streets, I was not hungry, and I had a goal. Make enough money to buy the most epic adventure-mobile I had ever seen... a Volkswagen Vanagon. Not just any Vanagon either... a Westfalia camper conversion! 

Eventually fate led me to a job, which led me to another, and finally I was in a position to start saving some money. I spent hours reading posts on internet forums, and I spent months looking for a van that would suit my needs. I learned from the forums that a person shouldn't buy a Vanagon from someone who didn't own and love the van. I learned that it was not wise to use PayPal for the purchase, and I learned not to buy a van off of eBay. The posts that I read said that I shouldn't buy a van that I didn't personally inspect and that I shouldn't pay to have it shipped unless I was able to oversee the initial loading of the truck, because shipping a Vanagon could cause damage to the van while it was in transit if it is loaded improperly. I tried to follow these rules. I really did. I tried to find a van that was local to me in the great state of New York. The main problem I had with local (within a 300 mile radius) was that the vans had seen the winter conditions and the road salt of the northeast, so rust was an issue.    

I did find a really nice blue air-cooled van one day while I was riding my bicycle across NY during the summer of 2013. It was up in the Catskill mountains on the side of the road with a "For Sale" sign in the window. I took down the phone number, looked over the van while I was there and I was actually impressed with it. It had under 100,000 miles on the odometer. The paint was in good condition, there weren't any major dents or scratches, and the little sign on the window stated that it passed NY state inspection and also had an under-the-seat gas heater. The sticker price was a firm $8,000. It was a little over my budget, but maybe I could borrow some money if I had to. The real kicker for me was that it was air-cooled. The way I saw this project was that I wanted to convert the van to a Subaru engine, and the conversion from air-cooled to water-cooled on top of converting from a Volkswagen to a Subaru power plant would really just be extra work. I just felt unsure about it. I called the owner anyway and discussed the van at length with him. He was a very nice man and he did love his van. He actually felt that if he sold it he would like the new owner to keep it original. I didn't think I would be able to do that and eventually, I told him that if I came up with the money I would give him a call back, but at the time I had only $3,000 saved.  

Fast forward to January of 2014. I was eagerly searching... maybe almost frantically searching for a road-worthy Vanagon on the internet with the intent on paying between 5 and 7 thousand dollars. I searched on thesamba.com and I checked Craigslist postings and even looked at eBay a few times but always came up short. The clock was ticking. If I was going to have a road-ready Vanagon by May, when my seasonal job let me out, I would need it soon if I was going to have enough time to go through it and repair any of the systems or parts that required attention.  

Then one day it happened. I saw a beautiful looking cream colored van that was relatively rust free for sale out in Utah for sale on eBay. It was an 1984 water-cooled Westy. The sticker price was $5,995. I called the gentleman and was a little impatient when I talked with him. I was very excited and didn't want to miss out on the opportunity. The man was very nice and sent me more photos of the van and he even went to the van and started "it" so I could hear "it" run. I mean, just because a fella says he is starting the van doesn't make it so. Anyway, I asked if there were other people who had bought vehicles from him in the past that I could maybe talk to about their experience to make sure that I wasn't going to send my money to a man on the internet for a vehicle that I had no way of inspecting, and trust that this man would send me the title and eventually ship me the van.  

The man sent me some contact information for a man who he had sold a Porsche 914 to. I played phone tag with the buyer for about a week before we actually connected. He sent me a few photos of his Porsche and told me that the seller had actually put him up for the night when he went out to Utah to inspect the car and to load it onto a truck for shipping it home to Colorado. His story checked out, so I figured that I would give the fella from Utah a call back and send him some money. I was very excited! When I called him, he told me that he regretted to inform me that he had already sold the van to a buyer in Texas. Shit! 

I spent a few weeks in despair but continued the search. Then one evening, after I got home from work, my phone rang. It was the seller from Utah. Initially I thought that maybe the deal he made with Texas had fell through, but he told me that it went well. However, he did notice another van that was similar to the one he sold was for sale on eBay out of Colorado. The only difference was that the van he saw had air conditioning and the one he sold did not. I thanked him for the lead and checked out the ad.  

When I called the seller in Colorado, he said a few things that I didn't want to hear. The title was not in his name. He bought it from an Estate Sale - he had a very salesman-like attitude. I asked if he could send me photos and videos and if he could send me a photo of the title. He did all of those things. Then I asked my friends on the internet if anyone lived in Colorado Springs who might be able to do me a favor and check out a Vanagon that I was interested in buying.  

A man that I had met on the Appalachian Trail responded and said that he could check it out for me. I didn't know him very well, but figured that if the seller was willing to meet a local fella to show the vehicle, then it might not be too shady of a deal. He obliged my requests, but something still didn't sit exactly right with me. I was kind of nervous to wire $6,000 of my hard-earned cash to a man I will never meet, and hope that the van would get loaded on a shipping truck and the title would be quickly mailed to me.  

I decided that I would use PayPal in order to add a layer of some kind of protection for myself. I'm not 100% sure it would have helped much after hearing bad stories from other PayPal users but it helped me sleep a little better. The seller said that if I was going to use PayPal he was going to ask that I pay more to cover some of the fees associated with its use. I agreed to send $6,200 in exchange for a title.  

Then I looked into shipping. I tried U ship and I also searched the internet for shipping companies and got a few quotes. Eventually I found a shipping company based out of Colorado. They told me they could get the van on one of their open transport trucks sometime during the next week. They asked me to pay about $1000 and would accept cash on delivery. I had to fill out some paper work for them and fax it over to their office, and they asked for pick-up and delivery addresses and contact information for the person or persons who would be at either place. Everything was falling into place.  

Later that week, while I was at work, my phone rang. The shipping company was trying to pick up the van, but there was no answer at the pick-up location and the shipper wasn't answering his phone. I was talking with the dispatcher of the shipping company when he asked who was supposed to ship the van. I told him the fellas name and he said, "That guy owes us money." My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't sure what they were insinuating, but I was suddenly very nervous. The next 20 minutes lasted a lifetime. I had a vision of a man dressed in a short sleeved dress shirt and a crooked tie carrying a briefcase full of my money and driving down the road in "my" van. I tried calling the seller and there was no answer. I tried again... no answer. Finally, the seller answered, loaded the van on the truck and it was on its way to me! SIGH! Whew... that was close.  

When the van arrived I couldn't contain my joy. The driver pulled the van up the driveway, I payed him and I helped him back his truck up so he could get headed back in the right direction. I wasn't sure how well the van would ride. I had never driven one before. It didn't have any plates on it. The roads were covered in salt and snow and slush, the exhaust was broken, but I didn't care. I sat in the drivers seat with a giant smile on my face. My family watched as I turned the key. It fired right up. I found reverse and away I went. Up the street and back, then up another street and back again. It was incredibly fun to drive. It was loud, it was dented a little, there were pieces missing and broken, there were a few places where the clear coat was peeling, but it was mine! I was in love.  

I pulled back up the driveway. Everyone was outside cheering. There were a few people who wanted to go for a ride, but it was dark, I didn't know anything about the fluids, the condition of the brakes, the condition of the tires or pretty much anything at all in the grand scheme of things. Common sense told me to park the van, so I did. Inside there was an ice cream cake on the kitchen counter, waiting to be eaten. 

Home!!

Love him, dents and all. 
 

The next day he was sitting outside in the driveway. He was happy to be here.  Look at that smile!   


Sometimes you can do things pretty much all wrong, and it still turns out just right!