Archive for the ‘gear and tips’ Category
I like the Airstream factory-issued Owner’s Manual that came with the DWR: the uncluttered layout, the clean language, the Euro-style cover. But, as it must be, it’s a dry read, and sometimes raises more questions than it answers.
Rich Luhr’s compact Newbies Guide to Airstreaming presents everything—literally—that you need to know before setting out on your shakedown cruise in a personal and friendly fashion, like a calm and trusted friend, patiently answering all your idiot questions one by one with expertise, respect, and a touch of humor.
It doesn’t fold but for Christmas I received the MyPressi TWIST Easy Elegant espresso maker, which claimed to change how and where I will enjoy my delicious espresso and espresso-based beverages, as it is “perfect for home and office”. Somehow they overlooked its most obvious application: for use in the Airstream.
Producing “perfect crema every time”—I suspect that’s the beige foam at the top of the coffee—the unit uses pressurized cartridges (the ones that make carbonated water from a seltzer bottle) in lieu of external power, and dispenses single or double shot extractions. A separate “frother” turns hot milk into a fake-steamed latte lather.
Everyone from California has driven by the Olive Pit fifty times. Located in Corning, the “Olive Capitol of the World”, (Spain, Italy, or Greece may take umbrage at that) in the blasting hot flatlands north of Sacramento, Olive Pit is the Wall Drug of the west.
The general attitude has always been “move along people, there’s nothing to see here” but I was rapidly approaching friends, in whose driveway I would be camping and upon whom I would soon be mooching. I complied with signs demanding that I take exit 631, confident I’d find a hostess gift, pull-through parking for the Airstream, and a bathroom.
How did Roslyn, South Dakota get to be the vinegar capital of America?
“Yes. Ok,” replied the amiable host at the International Vinegar Museum, who earnestly launched into his docent’s speech. “This fella by the name of Lawrence Diggs,” he said, pointing to the framed articles on the wall at the entrance. “He was living in California and looking for a place different from California. He happened to come through Roslyn and he’s been here ever since.” (What are the odds of this.)
When I first moved to Portland lo these many years ago, there was nothing to eat. A damning indictment, as I was fresh from San Diego where fish tacos and mud pie were as haute as one could go.
Now, you can’t open Sunset or the now-defunct Gourmet without reading an article breathlessly praising a Portland chef, or a gushy review of the culinary craze that’s been sweeping the area in recent years: the city food cart.
Until last Friday, I worked a stone’s throw from one of the main lunchwagon pods downtown but rarely visited, preferring instead to eat a piteous salad at my desk.
Dinnertime in western Oregon and Washington while camping with the DWR means huddling inside, out of the wretched weather, preparing meager, unobtrusive meals in the tiny galley, and smelling wet dogs drying by the floor heater. Roll east of the Cascades though, where skies are clear, and the great outdoors becomes your dining room. Time to barbeque.
Storage within the trailer remains on a miniature scale, so we ‘stream with the HotSpot Notebook Portable Charcoal Grill.
Ripley required only minor first aid after stepping on the cactus but Ralston, age ten, inconveniently fell ill with some kind of undiagnosable ailment the day we left and appeared to be at death’s door during the entire first week of our trip. After consulting vets in three states he was eventually back to what passes for normal. We kept him hydrated and cool along the way with the help of this special mat and bandana.
Soak the mat in water to activate the “cooling crystals”, then plop it down as a place to ride in the car or rest in the shade.
Another grey summer Saturday in the PacNorwest. Headed south to Eugene Oregon to catch the opening day for the Emerald’s, a short-season Class A team in the Northwest League and one of the farm teams for the Padres. I’ve seen fans this rabid only once before, in the stadium in Oaxaca screaming for the Guerreros.
Had to take a secluded, mosquito-y site at the nicely maintained Richardson Park, located on the end of a large resevoir near a pretty marina. Ralph paddled out in his inflatable pontoon for a spin around a nearby bass puddle.
With his Kestrel 3500 Portable Weather Station, Ralph can gauge temperature, relative humidity, barometric pressure, current and average wind speed, maximum wind gust, heat stress index, altitude, dewpoint, wind chill, time of day and something called “wet bulb temperature” wherever we camp.
Why does he need these readings? “It’s fun.”
When he pulls the weather gear from his fetish bag and observes my eyeroll, Ralph reminds me that I created this monster three years ago when I purchased a home weather station for him from Costco.
Ralph’s inflatable pontoon weighs about 40 pounds, fits in the trunk of his tiny Audi TT, and requires only a few minutes to inflate, affix the oars, and put in.
You can outfit it with a motor but “it’s fun to row and good exercise,” says Ralph. “Though it’s a bitch to fish out of.”
The delux package includes the boat, inflatable seat, foot pump (though a pump that runs off your vehicle cigarette lighter makes life much easier), set of oars, stow pouch and storage bag.