To rectify a massive oversight and kill time until we get back on the road, I asked Ralph, co-pilot of our DWR, to finally guest post on ‘Streaming. Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time ever, put your hands together for “The Master of History”:

Hello! I’m the other half (or quarter, if you count Ripley and Raven) of the quartet that’s featured here. I’m the one that’s the product of that celebrity math equation on the “Who is ‘Streaming?” page, and the one with the foldable fetish.

Things have been quiet….Rhonda been very busy writing, about Airstreams of course, and we haven’t been out on the road much at all. That’s what happens when you lose control of your life; when work and a new house start getting in the way of having Airstream fun. 

The move to Bend has changed our approach to Airstreaming. Here, the weather starts becoming a factor–at least that’s what our predisposition was. Either roads are icy, campgrounds closed, or you just want to hunker down. Now, this year, there’s no excuse. The weather in late November and December was good, but the Holidays just got in the way. Also, the house is too nice. Yes, the Pine Cone Lodge (the nickname we gave our house) is a pretty fun place, and we’re busy exploring Bend. So, lots of reasons but no excuses. 

The upside is that we’ll have some great adventures once we get going, because Central Oregon is a target-rich environment for the short trips we make during the late Winter and Spring. There’s Crater Lake (when it reopens), the Lakeview district, and maybe even stopping over at Frenchglen again, but this time taking it all the way out to Winnemucca. I’ve got a couple of fishing trips lined up (thank goodness we now have seat covers), and Rhonda’s planning another visit to Burning Man.

So, stay tuned…

I was outside at a Utah Starbucks when a man arrived with his two chocolate labs. He left them unleashed near a table, and without a word, went inside to fetch his latte. The dogs watched him disappear, then sat politely to wait for his return. “That,” I said to my friend, “is the difference between a lab and a dachshund.” Ralston would lie down to wait. Ripley and Raven would cry, “Yay, she’s gone! Let’s play in traffic!” and I’d never see them again. 

Thus the need for Invisible Fence at home and a new camping must-have: “The Rock” PetFree™ Outdoor Solution Plus portable electronic fence system. It works like a charm and the concept is fiendishly simple. 

Before The Rock, glamping with the doxies meant they either a] hogtied us to our camp chairs with their tangled long leashes (on purpose, we’re sure), or b] promptly darted away. (I get why people call them “dash-hounds”.) Now, with The Rock fence, we establish a big yard around the Airstream with one hundred feet of wire attached to a transmitter hidden in a little plastic boulder, and inform the dogs of the wire perimeter by planting the white flags they’re trained to recognize at the border. While wearing their special “beep collars”—which issue a wristwatch alarm-like tone if they get too close to the flags (and a mild shock if they dare to cross the wire)—the dogs play safely nearby without knocking over the cocktail table with their outdoor leads, or running off to chase the campground squirrels and neighbor pets.

Does the collar hurt? Not really; it’s more of a creepy pulse than a pain. (The Central Oregon Invisible Fence trainer/installer—a kind and patient man that the dogs adore—encouraged me to take the adjustable shock myself.) It’s as intense as touching the TV set after walking on the carpet in sock feet; just enough of a surprise to get the pet’s attention and divert them away from the boundary. Dogs are not dumb, and learn the rules quickly.

R&R jump for joy when they see the collars coming out; they represent freedom, smells, and playing leash-free outdoors. Soon, we’re told, they may not require the collars at all; just placing the white flags around the trailer should keep them nearby. We’ll see. (Again: Dogs—not dumb.)

What happened to Frenchglen? I recall passing through fifteen years ago to find an oasis in the desert: enchantingly upscale accommodations; a country store tastefully merchandised with fine handmade gifts and locally grown produce and cheeses; espresso. Now, the Mercantile, once beamed directly from Marin County, squats forlornly behind the Iron Curtain with its half-empty shelves of dirty gourds and stale-looking cracker boxes. And the hotel? No longer on my short list of places to honeymoon.

What goggles was I wearing? Was I infatuated at the time, with either someone or my new Oregon home? Was I parched from the cultural drought that is the drive from Reno through Winnemucca? Or has Frenchglen, like everywhere, fallen on hard times? (Why am I writing like Carrie Bradshaw?)

While the town of Frenchglen no longer holds any magic, the surrounding area still does. Returning to southeastern Oregon years later with a different rig and crew would have been a harsh letdown except for the enduring beauty of the untouched landscape…which never changes.

I’ll go out on a limb: the campground at Page Springs Recreation Site—a BLM property on the Steens Mountain Loop—is possibly the most beautiful we’ve overnighted in. (Ralph: “You’re not going to blog and tell everyone about this, are you?”) (Oops.) It has no hookups, (water and johns, though), feels remote yet is exquisitely groomed, and the flora and fauna are among the Creator’s finest work. Near the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge, the area draws hawks, herons, magpies and binocular-toting birdwatchers; the Donner and Blitzen rivers (guess what? not named for the reindeer) attract wading flyfishermen. Deer and coyote roam freely, like pets. The surrounding Steens aren’t actually black but dramatic lighting makes them appear so. 

On the way down from Bend I misunderstood the checker at the Safeway in Burns who asked if we were headed to the Round Barn, a Harney County hotspot. “What? Oh, definitely,” I replied. (I thought she said “Round Bar”.) Of course we detoured anyway, past the Diamond Craters (which look like a failed batch of devilsfood crinkle cookies) to take in the cultural significance of said barn. The mildly interesting structure is as advertised: a barn, that is round, with a complex interior structure of juniper beams. Nearby, a testy man who won’t tell you all about it presides over a crap n’ trinket store with an odd attraction inside that serves as another class reminder: when one is poor and surrounded by junk, they’re a hoarder. Rubbish of the wealthy is considered an eccentric collection, and transferred to frontier museums.

My friend Karla—a spectacular cook—sells high-end kitchen tools as a Demarle At Home instructor and host. Recently she suggested the obvious that I’d overlooked: wouldn’t Flexipans be perfect for your Airstream?

Of course! Yes! If the DWR had an oven. 

I made these Halloween brownie bites in a mini muffin tray at home (using a low cal version of a box mix, with applesauce instead of oil), but YOUR trailer or RV certainly has an oven and you’ll want this rubbery cookware for your galley. 

Made of some kind of silicone, they don’t need prepping (no polluting your Airstream interior with greasy Pam spray), they barely need cleaning (rinse and wipe), and they squish to stow and don’t clank around in the cupboard. The Silpat baking sheets roll up as well, and the roundish one even doubles as a pot lid.

Demarle products aren’t cheap, but Christmas is coming. Get the cookbook-like catalog from Karla and assemble your wish list; the pans, molds and sheets come in dozens of diminutive (and regular) shapes and sizes.

The first day of fall in Bend. Ahh. Most of the tourist trade has vanished (I’m told), and the hipsters have slunk back to Portland and their PBRs. Locals are relaxing, the sky is blue, and the beer is flowing.

When I moved to Portland twenty years ago I had not yet heard of hefeweizen and immediately contracted OBD (Oregon Butt Disease), which manifests as fifteen sudden pounds in the posterior caused by too many 200-calorie pints. I’ve since switched to red wine and martinis (probably no less caloric) but now that I’m #inbend, I’m rediscovering beer. Portland is touted as Beervana, but Central Oregon seems to be nosing ahead as the leader of the craft brew movement. 

First stop: Oktoberfest, downtown. Lots of said beverage, an oompah band, brats, deep fried pickles, wiener dog races, “absurd games of skill for prizes”, and a lederhosen/dirndl costume contest (though more were dressed in yellow and green and relieved to learn the Oregon game would be aired in the polka tent). 

Later, I joined a hairier crowd sunbathing a short bike ride away at the Bend Roots Revival: “three days, eight stages and 100 local music acts” in a stealth location between a brew pub and a winery. 

Twenty minutes away in twee Sisters, more music and more drinking under the big tent at the Fresh Hop Festival.

All uncrowded, all free admission, all in one weekend. Dozens of designer beers, 105 bands, 90 degrees…wait, why am I telling you this? Strike that. Bend sucks. Nothing to see here…move along.

I towed into Pendleton, Oregon minutes before the Westward Ho! parade and faced nowhere to park; every empty slot and lot teemed with RVs and horse trailers and teepees. Somehow I squeezed into a miracle spot in the WalMart parking lot, stuffed to the curbs with motorhomes, tents, and rednecks camped in the beds of their pickups…like spring break for hillbillies. I followed the crowd and piles of manure on Court Street to the all non-motorized parade which showcased wild west wagons and buggies, all manner of cowboy, Indians, Mexicans, sheriffs, preachers, outlaws, firemen, Oregon Trail pioneers, weird timber equipment, every rodeo princess in the Northwest, longhorns, mules, donkeys, horses, miniature ponies, and State Treasurer Ted Wheeler. The sky was blue, the sun warm, the air acrid with smell of freshly-dropped dung. Life is good. “Let ‘er buck, hail yay-uh,” commented the spectator to my right about the inscription tooled on the chaps of a pretty cowgirl.

During Round-Up Pendleton swells by 50,000 people and becomes a spectacle. Tents with vendors hawking cowboy hats, brisket and tacos, rugs and horse blankets, cowgirl bling, and Native American crafts line the streets; at night, the town hosts a week-long party with five entertainment stages and assorted bacchanalia. 

The rodeo itself is one of the ten largest in the world. The announcer (who is quite excellent) kicks off the competition by leading the crowd in the official catchphrase: “It’s a noun, it’s an adjective, it’s a verb…!” to which the crowd screams “Let ‘er buck!!” The concessions are reasonable (beer, $4) and the townfolk are friendly and polite. I was mildly surprised when the audience stood to enthusiastically cheer the area tribes in their ceremonial attire during the Indian Show portion of the rodeo; the community here warmly embraces and honors the Native American, a part of Round-Up week for 101 years. (It’s not like that in California. Just sayin’.)

I visited the “Let ‘Er Buck Room” during a break in the rodeo action to see if I could get groped. (No takers). Less of a bar and more of just a shadowy, enclosed space beneath the bleachers, the famous party den is packed wall to wall with drinkers generating a deafening noise; copious signage warns “Keep Your Clothes On – Indecent Exposure Will Not Be Tolerated”.

I drycamped for the weekend in the community park and enjoyed overeating and overdrinking as usual with the Oregon Unit of the WBCCI, who have been hosting Airstreamers at the Round-Up for 46 years.

Parade rankings by the author

(Criteria: Length, weather, relative lack of corporate sponsorship, high local kitsch factor)

1. UFO Festival, McMinnville
2. San Diego St. Patrick’s Day
3. Pendleton Round-Up Westward Ho! Parade
4. Detroit Lakes Water Carnival Parade of the Northwest
5. Fred Meyer Children’s Holiday Parade (now, alas, Macy’s)
6. Tournament of Roses, Pasadena
7. Portland Pride 
8. Lompoc Flower Festival 
9. Grand Floral Parade, Portland
10. Crazy Days Pet and Doll Parade, Audubon MN
11. Vergas Looney Daze 
12. Jackson Center Community Days

Parade bucket list

• Portland Starlight Parade
• Doo Dah Parade
• Carnivale, Brazil
• Carnivale, Trinidad
• Mardi Gras
• Please comment your suggestions!

The state fair may be legend, but Minnesota’s podunk summer festivals—Detroit Lakes’ Water Carnival, the Audubon Pet Parade (which took ten minutes, beginning to end), and “Looney Daze” (sic) in Vergas—deliver superior fun with easier parking.

Lakeside communities in northwestern Minnesota—frozen into a block of ice for seven-plus months—have to cram their pent up energy into the short tourist months of summer. In Vergas, where the loon is revered as a deity, you’ll find loon ball, the worlds largest loon, and, in August, Looney Daze. (Actual slogan: "WhAt HaPpEnS In VeRgAs!…StAyS In VeRgAs!")

The four humid days of activities include rummage sales, "Vergas Idol" karaoke, loon calling and strongman contests, water fights, a beer garden, and the ubiquitous small town parade, which I love to watch while listening to commentary by the townsfolk in their thick accents straight out of Fargo. (At the drinks cart, a woman in line ahead of me ordered a “sprayt”.)

Ralston’s passing, as any pet owner can attest, was difficult and bittersweet. He will never be replaced, and I miss him every day. His demise was no reason to delay restoring the Four Rs to pack capacity, however. Ripley needed a companion—preferably a non-human that could understand the byzantine games he likes to play.

When people asked if I was ready for another dog so soon, I replied, “I may never be ready for another dog. But I’m ready for a miniature dachshund!”

Down, small dog lovers; just kidding. Doxies—Ralph’s favorite breed—are a merry and noble dog, though after owning a big lab they still seem like pocket pets.

Introducing Raven, seen cavorting here with her littermates, and at four months old with me on the cover of the Fall 2011 issue of  Airstream Life. (Photo by Alison Turner, official photographer at Alumapalooza, who has a magical knack for capturing expressions—especially dog owners and their canine trailermates.)

Airstream is but a tiny, shiny star in the RV universe—most are SOBs (Some Other Brand). ‘Streamers I recently polled guesstimate that Airstreams comprise only one to three percent of the market, both new and old.

As it was held in my backyard (Redmond, only thirty minutes from Bend), I dropped in on The Rally (sans DWR…no aluminum allowed*), the premier annual RV gathering, to see how the other (more than) half lives.

It looked kinda fun, if you have a White Box: an indoor trade show of RV goodies and gear, mountainous new mohos with their handlers from the dealership, seminars like “Controlling Odors in Holding Tanks”, and goofy activities like the dog and owner lookalike contest.

But what do I know. Meet Erin Floresca, @LittleSnowbirds on Twitter and BellaOnline’s RV editor. Homebased in Oregon, she travels with her family in a 32 foot 2008 Fourwinds Chateau. “I love the pace of RV trips,” she states in her online bio. “It gives you the opportunity to stop in and see the roadside attractions that otherwise might have been missed. There is always plenty of time to stop at places like Wall Drug to purchase some jackalope souvenirs—the campier the road trip, the better.”

I heart her. Erin, how was The Rally?

"When I first heard that the Good Sam RV Rally was being held just a few hours away from where I lived, I actually tried to talk myself out of going. Oh, I had plenty of excuses—it was taking place during deadline weekend, it wasn’t in our budget, you know the drill. But the more I thought about The Rally, the more I realized I needed to go.

It’s been almost a decade since I was a full-time RVer completely immersed in the wonderful world of RVing. In the past few years, my family has only taken a handful of RV trips. Since we haven’t been on the road that much, I’ve actually entertained the idea that perhaps we should sell our motorhome. We could always buy another one a few years down the road, right? But I didn’t want to get any further away from the RV lifestyle that I adored so much; what I needed was a better reason to get closer to it. And that reason came in the form of the annual Good Sam RV Rally.

We made the short journey to the 2011 Rally being held at the Deschutes County Fair & Expo Center in Redmond, Oregon on a sunny Thursday afternoon. While driving toward our designated dry camping area, I was in awe of the surrounding view. And not because of the snowcapped mountains to the south and west. Spread out before us were rows and rows of RVs in every direction! (Rumor around the shuttle stops said the final count was around 4,500 RVs.) It was a sight to behold and instantly invigorated me. I knew before we were even settled into our site that going to The Rally was one of the best decisions I’d made in a long time.

Over the course of the next few days, we wandered around and partook in many of the offerings available to rally attendees. There were hundreds of seminars and exhibitors, live entertainment, and my favorite, the over 700 RVs for sale on display. I discovered many cool products and services available for the RV crowd. I really dug the new Rand McNally TripMaker RVND 5510 GPS device that was designed specifically for RVers. I also signed up for a free new service called WiFiRVFriends that not only helps you choose your next WiFi capable RV park, but acts as a social networking site too.

I was floored by the Bissell Perfect Sweep Turbo vacuum cleaner as well. It’s battery-powered, lightweight, and stores easily; just perfect for an RV. Priced at just $40, it’s hard to beat. I also fell in love with several Class A motorhomes like the 2011 Aspire 42DLQ by Entegra Coach and the 2011 Allegro Bus 43QGP. (It’s like a mini Caesar’s Palace on wheels, complete with raised bowl ‘his and hers’ vanity sinks in the bathroom! Love it!)

I was delighted to see an abundance of eco-friendly TRA Green Certified rigs on display (The Rally itself could have used a few recycle bins). I also learned that Pilot Travel Centers is partnering with the Good Sam Club to offer some exciting benefits to RVers. And let’s not forget the nightly gathering for entertainment with music icons like Bobby Vinton (who knew I knew so many of his songs?) and country music star Vince Gill. Fun, fun!

Overall, the Good Sam RV Rally was exactly what this little RVer needed. I needed to be inspired again by all of the cool rigs, products and services available to the RV crowd. I needed to be around other people who understood and appreciated the RV lifestyle. I needed to experience that feeling of being a part of the RV community—and that is exactly what I got.

I’m refreshed in my enthusiasm for all things RV thanks to the Good Sam RV Rally. Now, if I can only figure out how to get back on the road full time!"

Photo of Erin by Patrick Floresca; Allegro Bus photo on ‘Streaming home page courtesy of Erin Floresca

*kidding. Sort of.

I used to be crazy-patriotic. I walked precincts for the party when I was eleven, and voted in every election since I’ve been able (wearing pajamas to the dorm polling place to be first in line at age 18). I know every flag etiquette rule and the harmony part to This Land is Your Land. I grew out of it though, jaded in recent years by my understanding of the bigger world, media massaging, and our electoral system. 

But, this Independence Day I had to turn my head so no one would see me choking up over a red white and blue birthday cake.

July 4th is the birthday of Airstream creator Wally Byam, born in Baker City, Oregon in 1896. In observance, the Oregon Unit of the WBCCI and the Baker Heritage Museum threw a summer-long celebration: an exhibit of rare memorabilia from the life and travels of the hometown boy, highlighted by a “living history” open house rally of vintage and new Airstreams on Byam’s birthday weekend. 

Artifacts in the museum included personal items and photos from Byam’s caravan trips and rarities from the early days of Airstream manufacturing, mostly donated by cousin Dale “Pee Wee” Schwamborn, custodian of Byam’s history, who also presented an insightful and comprehensive decade-by-decade lecture on everything you ever wanted to learn (and more, if you know what I mean) about Byam, his origins, motivation, and travels. 

The rally had a historic focus (in conjunction with the expected fraternizing and overserving): Scott Goranson described his experience rescuing and restoring one of the trailers from Byam’s famous Around the World Caravan, and unit member Tom Golden shared the journals and collectibles saved from his mother’s adventure from Cape Town to Cairo.

Our rigs in the park adjacent to the museum drew crowds of visitors, including an inspiring couple pedaling their way to whatever’s next, filming and blogging along the way, who captured our rally and birthday party at the museum in a video.

At the party I reflected on Wally Byam, the man who brought us all together. An American innovator who created a fine American-made machine, still in production after 80 years, still employing American workers. How apt that he was born on the fourth of July. (Pee Wee recounted a funny fact: four year old Wallace, unaware of the broader meaning of that date, believed the town parade on his birthday to be in his honor.)

Before the museum director cut the flag-frosted cake, she led the gathering in song. “Happy birthday to youuuu, happy birthday dear wall-lee…"

To which one voice added, “and America!” So corny. That’s when I hid my silly patriotic tears.

Group photo above courtesy of Bill Ferry. Visit his Airstream photoblog.