Thursday, November 15, 2012

Building a Camper in a Truck Bed

I remember driving a Volvo sedan over the Blue Ridge Parkway through the scenic roads over the Appalachians from Atlanta to Front Royal, Virginia. I stopped over in Asheville where people are very friendly before sleeping that night in a the car. With the seats folded down it was very comfortable. It was warm and safe and mobile. It kept the rain out and I could go anywhere, see pretty mountains, get away from the city, and even play concerts. Yes. a car could be a shelter.

When I was a kid I had fond memories of riding in cars, hanging out in them, reading in the back of a blue blazer. I don't know if I did that because maybe there was some arguing inside the house or a sibling I didn't get along with. But for whatever reason I have had a comforting relationship to vehicles as shelter for a long time. Driving through the mountains to a river in North Georgia in the back of an old car with some Kentucky fried chicken. It doesn't get much better than that.

Although, it does. Living among transient seasonal workers I've had the opportunity to examine many different ways to live in a car. It started with an inherited Subaru Forrester with a Yakima rack. It was a nice start but a bit cramped for a tall person. Also the clearance could have been higher for off road. Then there was the cab over camper that sat on a flat bed trailer. Much more roomy, and fun to do home improvement projects with. But ultimately finding a place to drag it to and park it at was more effort than it was worth. I sold it, after building a new roof and new decking, for $50 less than I bought it for.

Finally a wreck, insurance money, and some profitable ski jobs gave me some more options. I went with the much admired Tacoma. In retrospect, buying a used one might have been a good idea. Though now that it is almost paid off after only two years, I'm glad to have something reliable I can depend on for years to come.

After a few weeks I built a level flatbed onto it with wood. It had storage underneath and eight tie down loops on the top. It was the best vehicle ever to carry things with or outfit group river trips with. Sleeping on top of the flatbed was wonderful to look out at the stars or to enjoy a sunset. But in any kind of rain or dust storm it had great disadvantages. It was also quiet indiscreet to sleep in in any kind of urban environment.

Last winter I invested in a topper for it and redid the former flatbed a bit lower so there was storage under neath and a nice bed to sleep on on top.

This had the advantage of storing work related tools and clothing underneath while still giving you a nice bed to sleep in. If the weather is nice and the setting is rural, going outside to sit and read is great. And, you could still transport a heck of a lot of stuff in it!

However, now that winter is upon us things are changing. I will be working inside, I will need a lot less specific equipment (or recreational outdoor gear), and most things I own will be in a storage unit. The setting will be frequently suburban or urban, and it will be very cold and snowing outside. I decided to take out the false bottoms and redesign the back to be as functional as the cab over camper, but smaller, lighter, and always part of the vehicle.

The first step was to take everything out, remove trash, scrape out accumulated crud, and pressure wash clean the whole inside.

Taking out the false bottom meant we had wheel wells again to deal with, so I had to trim the foam mattress slightly to make it fit. I just took a chunk out of the wheel well part, so there is still softness above and below the wheel well. Then I designed the basic shelf. It needed to have 1) battery storage and inverter storage in a place it wouldn't move around, 2) shelves for msc storage and cooking storage, 3) a sink, 4) a stove, and 5) a place to put snowy boots. I put in the old false bottom support to have a basic idea, and then to think about it.

That is the basic idea, but there are some problems. First, in Toyota Tacomas you can't just have a board resting on the wheel well because the wheel wells dip slightly in towards the bed. So you either need to have shims under the board, or you need to have the board propped up on some supports. Secondly, I built this original board support out of a 2 x 6 on the bottom and then 2 x 4s. That was so it would support the weight of a person + lots of gear on top of it. But now I need less weight supported, so I went to Turner Lumber and got a 1 X 8 x 8 for the lower board, and a 1 X 10 X 8 for the upper board. The extra two inches on the top part makes sense because as the top of the shelf, it can go farther towards the top of the truck bed where the camper shell lies on top of it.

Next was two days of sawing and measuring and fitting. I got to borrow a great drill, but the saw I borrowed was not very good and the blade on it bent. All my cuts got a little crooked, which is okay, because I like "rustic elegance." I was also sort of making it up as I went along from a vague plan. However if I was to do it again, now that I have the right plan, I could measure better and make exact cuts. I would definitely use an electric saw.

The basic finished thing:

The 1 X 8 that forms the bottom of the shelf rests on the 1 " lip that runs along both sides of the bed in the stock Tacoma bed liner. Most of the weight is supported by three gray 2 X 4 pieces that rest on the bed itself. It stays connected to the truck by zip ties to the tie down loops on the bottom, and under the sink and behind a cabinet there are zip ties connected to the adjustable tie down loops that run along the rail. The orange cam strap that holds the stove in is anchored to two of these

Here's how the zip tie / cam strap connects to one of these adjustable points. This is within the main large shelf.

The shelves stay shut with those little bolt locks. The tops and sides of the shelf are made of extra 1 x 8 or 1 x 10 from the pieces I bought, but the face is made of an old cabinet door that a friend didn't want any more. That wood is lighter, looks nice, and works well as it doesn't need to bear much of a weight load.

Now let's talk about the sink! You got to have a sink if you are going to cook, and if you are going to need to toss out old coffee from a coffee cup, or dish water, or anything else, it is very sketchy to keep opening the back of your truck to do this. Now, I could have gone to home depot and maybe found a real sink that would fit, but the closest home depot is 2 hours away and nowhere in my town was selling any. I did however buy this large funnel from Ace Hardware, a clear flexible length of hose that fit it, and a screw on tightener. Apparently, these funnels are usually used for some kind of beer drinking game. But this one makes a great sink. It's held in place mostly by friction to the sides of the shelves, but for strength I also screwed in that 2 x 4 piece under it for it to rest on.

To drain the sink, the Tacoma has these plastic "pockets" that go inside the bed liner and above the wheel well. You can take them out. I took it out and took an old butter knife and heated it up on the stove and melted a hole in the side of it big enough for the hose to fit through. It runs between the bedliner and the metal frame of the truck and comes out in the wheel well. It cannot be seen from the outside and it empties most discreetly.

Then, it was put the bed back in, put the sheet and blankets on. Other things, I took out the light, white, summer curtains and put in thicker black winter curtains. These look less conspicuous and they are warmer. They also block out what is going on inside from prying eyes, so if you are hanging out in the evening reading by headlamp no one is going to look at you weird. The also won't notice if you are sleeping in in the morning.

The side curtains hang down from the frame of the shell on dowels with screws in the ends. One of those picture frame kits has good enough screws and strong enough metal twine to hold them up. The curtain is held onto the rod by several zip ties. It can hang down, or be folded up. Also the windows can still open, so there are many options for thermo regulation depending on discretion and how sunny it is outside.

The back curtain is different. It still has the picture frame rod set up, but the zip ties are loose so it can slide along the rod and be push to the side. Those cheap $0.75 caribeners that people have on their keys are used to attach it to both sides.

All put together:

Closer up:

The shelf. Note folding wood piece that helps hold the stove in, and also folds out to be a stand for it.

Stove folded out. Note the support block under the folding piece. It gives it added strength and rigidity. If you wanted to be fancy you could have it on a hinge too, but I ran out of hinges. Also it would then stick out more. So I keep it simple and it isn't attached to anything. It does however integrate back into the system and is held in place by the cam strap.

The other side. I've left this part mostly alone for now.

Maybe some kind of storage could be built on top of the wheel well but as most my meals are cooked for me in the winter, the amount of storage I actually need is much smaller. Having the space left alone gives me less in the way, more space to "stretch out in", and it makes a nice coffee and thermos holder. Of note, notice the grill. It is held in place between the matress pad and the wall. It folds out to become a desk you can put over you and read or type with. Or you can put it at the far end and put the laptop on it to watch a movie. I am looking out for a nice piece of cardboard to tape to it so it feels nicer.

Against the cab is a map for plans and imagination, some stuffed animals, and the crazy creek chair. You can fold that out and sit in it to read, it is pretty comfy. Also, you probably noticed the pellet gun. I don't know where else to put the pellet gun, and I feel like they are fun and useful so I might as well have it with me. I suppose you could hunt small game with it sometime... Mostly I guess it just looks rustic and Western, it is light and doesn't pull down much on the frame, and maybe it is sort of a bit of an aesthetic comment upon the silliness of "zombie survivalist" people who fantasize about living in cars and solving their problems with guns, but who of course have never had to actually do either.

As everyone actually living in a car these days knows, the apcolapyse already happened back in '08.

Another view. Behind the grill you can see there is a small compartment with two knobs that opens. It's something Toyota built into the frame. On the opposite side I tucked in there the extension cord, but I am not sure what to do with this side yet. It is open to the outside and gets cold at night. I think it would either make a good freezer / fridge for small food items (most likely meat leftovers from work I take home to make soup or quesodillas of later) or for a tiny trash can. In the pocket on this side for now I've got a warm hat and some gloves handy. Oh, and there is the headlamp hanging from the barrel. It is my night light for now, but having a nice reading lamp might be a worthwhile project for later.

Here is the electric set up.

Right now it is a deep cycle marine battery and a 750 watt inverter. My hair cutting clippers kit is integrated into the system for now because it is important to have. They will probably get moved into the extended cab larger though. For now the battery is dependent on the grid for re charging. I'm looking into solar panels and might buy this one, along with a regulator, and keep it on the inside of one of the side windows. But that I'll do after Thanksgiving. The battery is held in place by friction between the mattress and the wall of the bed, but it is easy enough to pull the mattress out and get it out of there.

I am particularly fond of the shelves. They are rather cute. This is the tea and coffee shelf.

The olive oil container lives in there too for now. This shelf has coffees and teas, powdered milk, and eventually may even get honey. There is also a Swedish color themed pot holder my mother knitted in there.

The Under - The - Sink - Shelf:

It's got soap and a sponge. Also the channel locks, a screw driver and the salt shaker seem to be hanging out in there.

The long shelf:

Right now its got the 3 quart soup pot and the coffee pot, also the warm pot holder glove that houses the utensils. Also some wire and wire clippers I was using today. This cabinet needs to get more organized, but the pots will probably form the core of its existence.

I made sure to cut this notch so I could crank open the windows still:

And another notch so I can periodically make sure the topper's screws are tight:

And then of course, there's these guys...

For now they can sit on top of the stove, but that won't work when they are snowy. The space underneath the stove part of the shelf was in mind, but it got taken over by a frying pan, a plate, and a cutting board. I'm think of putting a portable wash basin tub that maybe is stored vertically flat above the stove, and can be taken down to put snowy shoes in at night.

But there is of course more to be done. I need to get a fire extinguisher for safety, a lamp, a solar panel, and think more about what else is needed. But you can't do this all at once, you have to think about it as you go. One problem with the Tacoma is that the extended cab back window, which slides open, is way to small to crawl through. Having a truck where you could crawl between the living room and the driving room would be nice. That being said it is a rather small defect. I think the set up here is as if not more comfortable than a Vannagon, and it certainly is more reliable and has better offroad clearance. 4 x 4 and 23- 24 mpg is pretty nice.

You might also be wondering whether or not I am crazy to go through all this effort to make such a house. Well times are tough and many people in my generation who live in apartments aren't getting cars because they don't want to deal with them. I am just doing the opposite and not getting an apartment. My jobs make me move seasonally and drive far, so a car that can carry work equipment is needed. Moving every four or six months or so make leases a pain to deal with. And these seasonal jobs are more fulfilling and interesting than the kind of work I have been able to find in cities. I also like the people out here more.

Besides, I will also say there are a lot of things I don't like about apartments. They can be very isolating places. Living in them before it seemed I'd come home and shut myself in and I wouldn't get to interact with the world outside very much unless it was by alienating technology. They are also often dark and gloomy unless you pay to burn coal to light them. Even then they are often not bright enough. Curtains often keep the sun out, and shade trees that are nice in the summer only seem to add to the dark gloominess of the fall when it gets dark at 4:15 pm already. And then there's dealing with landlords, security deposits, uggh. All that just to be a new guy in some town where there's 10% unemployment and I might be lucky enough to find some $10 an hour job that takes up all my time and energy and leaves me with barely any savings at the end of the month? If that is what society has to offer society can take its general Petraeus sex scandals and billion dollar elections and go screw itself.

Most of Utah is public land, which means it belongs to you, me, and everybody. My backyard is bigger than anyone's, and it has the most fabulous views. Today I could see snow capped La Sal Mountains, the Salt Valley anticline, the Tavaputs and the San Rafael Swell. I felt on top of the world and I could breathe fresh crisp air. In the evening the whole world glowed and I had a beautiful sunset.

Of course I do miss heating sometimes and I do miss all my music things which are in storage that I never get to play with. I don't think living in a car is for everybody or even for me indefinitely. But for now it is a pretty nice option. By cutting out paying rent I am on track to have $15,000 to $25,000 in savings by next Fall when I start a graduate program. That can either pay for school if my funding doesn't come through, or will help with living expenses. I have never been able to save that much before and I don't know too many people living in cities and working all week just to be broke at the end of the month who can save that much in a year. So it is a pretty good idea for now. Certainly it's a better life than a lot of older more experienced and qualified people than me are dealing with right now.

I hope this article gave you some ideas if you are looking for any, whether you are building a truck house because you have to or because you'd like to. And remember, when the apocalypse happens and you need to live in a survival truck, you can't forget stuffed animals, home made pot holders, and tasty tea. Those are the things that really get you through!

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Excerpt, The Power of Love

8:06 pm. The gnats are back.

Still Awake. Yes. Awake and philosophical here. On this solo trip. This endlessly analyzed and second guessed experience. An experience very different from the one most people are having on this river right now. Just now- a small and menacing scorpion was found crawling among the ledges, among the drying clothes and dishes. My enjoyment of ledgy camps, I suspect, has now permanently been altered in favor of beaches. Larger beaches, if possible. Preferably islands. Or at least, peninsulas.

I have been reading more of the tome of Canyon literature. There is certainly some good stuff in there. Ah, but the damn literary fluff! Fluff in general that I have little patience for. This place breeds it like the Tamarisk!

Am I becoming a grumpy old man?

Down here in this canyon, my thoughts drift to what I am fleeing from. What I have left behind. The world has lately been a very disenchanting and difficult place for most people. How nice it is to have a river. How grounding to surround oneself with the solidity of rock. In the grand scheme of things, very few of our contemporary problems really do matter. This river will keep on flowing, these mountains will keep on eroding, and eventually some other formations will be deposited over these ones. These thoughts do not tonight inspire terror or fear. Rather, coming to terms with just how trivial most things we attach so much importance on to is a tremendously liberating thing...

Excerpts

From the introduction of an upcoming book I wrote about the Grand Canyon...

"...The trip was marvelous for me not just because the rapids were fun or the people were friendly, or that camp time provided me a much needed rest and relaxation. The trip was marvelous because it was the first time I had ever been here. The first time you ever go down any river section, there is a sense of mystery and anticipation that can be experienced only once. It is the thrill of going somewhere new, somewhere unexplored. Having this feeling all to myself in such an imposing and inspirational environment allowed me to reflect on my own life, the joys and hardships of guiding, and being a worker in the Inter-Mountain tourist industry. If I survive the rapids, what sort of life, and what sort of society is waiting for me to return to? What would another year of the same habits and lifestyle look like?"

"I am not the world's foremost Grand Canyon expert. I do not know as much about its history and rocks as many other people. But I have been able to preserve the thrill of experiencing it for the first time in a rather unique way. I also do not intend to impress you with being the most reckless and “extreme” aquatic dare devil on the Colorado River. There are others who do this far better than me, and there are already enough worried mammas in this world."

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Throw Down Your Oars

Here is the link to the new, great, rolling stone article on climate change. Go read that. Then come back here.

Okay, welcome back.

So this blog has been about guiding. But I've been guiding a lot more than I have been writing this blog. And it is time for me to step back from guiding. Furthermore, it is time for a lot of us to step back from guiding.

2012 was The Year Of Low Water. It was a season that was going to be a slog and that is something we all knew from the beginning. It was hot. There were F-U upstream winds. The rapids disappeared, and with it, a lot of the fun. Everything seemed to turn into heat stroke, short tempers, long rowing days and depressed, micro- managing burn out trip leaders. Working 5 am to 11 pm 5 days a week. Driving across the state on your day off. Then rigging the next trip on your other day off. Maybe one real day off every or every other week. And then you're back. Back at this coal mine of a company town. Back with no autonomy, living in the parking lot of your bosses' house. No personal space. No library. No coffee shop. No where to write. And absolutely no dating. No hugs. No kisses. No "I love you's". No potential. Months of the heat, and the toil, and a fuse that's cooked through, burning out completely towards its own, inevitable, disintegration.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

My Book of Poems is Out

Long awaited, and finally out...

For you the reader here is my book of poems. Poems of rivers and life, the world, justice, difficulty, love, betrayal, death, hope and struggle. Prose of the desert and the ghost towns and the wild places. Voices of myself, snap shots of moments in time, travel, and observation.

As you may understand, a lot of poetry is narcissistic fluff most people have little patience for. Honey sweet words with no substance of life to them. My poems are not like that. My poems are true works of life. They are for people and the world. The are not soothing lullabies to put you to sleep, or to tell you that everything is beautiful and perfect. They are here to wake you up and prod you and reach out a hand to you. Take from them what you will. And pass them on if they are found to be useful.

Walking Away From Dixie has been self published and printed at the Canyonlands Copy Center in Moab, Utah. Awaiting national distribution, it can currently be purchased by using pay pal to send payment + $3.50 S&H to cawright2007@yahoo.com . Current asking price is $10, which can be raised or lowered depending on the purchasers' needs and generosity. All proceeds benefit my food and gas budget as I spend the fall writing a book on Utah's Ghost Towns, a book on the solo duckie run of the Grand Canyon, and a book about living, working and traveling around the Colorado Plateau during the recession. It is 45 pages long of concentrated experience and observation, and is my first book.

Index:

The Ripping of the Rivers' Tears
There was a river
Activate the Emergency Response System
Red Velvet Cafe
Head for the Hills
The One Who Travels Alone
The Winter
Me Too, Love
Outer Suburbia

11.11
That's About Enough of That
Ghetto Blues, DC
Late Night Re-Runs
Of What Standards Fall Short?
Walking Away From Dixie
Sleepwalking Through the Days of Cotton
The Deception Years
State Highway
Could it be?
I run

America Dawns Malicious
Gunslinger Punk
The Revolutionary that waits
Foreign Fighters
Unbeatable Wall Street
Smacked in the Face
National Forecast
Life Pushes Down
Plenty of Ways

Take Life
Tour
When You're Homeless
Servants
Banks Pay the Tab
Insight
River Character
The Ghost Towns
Occupy SLC
The Interviews

Sunday, May 13, 2012

There Was a River




Once, there was a river
Whose annual flood
Swept the banks clean
Tore out old vegetation
And left wide beaches
And a rich, fertile soil.

Today my banks are overgrown
Into huge, speculative derivatives

Thursday, May 10, 2012

To Boldy Duckie...

I have navigated, alone, the entire Grand Canyon, from Lee's Ferry to Pearce Ferry. 279 miles. 70-something named rapids. As many again unnamed rapids and "riffles" that would be considered class three rapids on any other river. I made it through most of them fine, and only portaged once, at Lava Falls, where at low water there was no left line. Enormous waves, man eating holes, jagged rocks, fangs, sucks, and boils. Arizona bark scorpions. I had never done the Grand Canyon before. And I have completed the journey there. My experience was a combination of great joy as well as trepidation, as I cautiously made my way down stream, scouting every marked rapid, and firmly adhering to my own superstitious rituals, as luck was suddenly a thing I was very conscious of. Each night for the fist 180 or so miles I wondered if that dinner would be my last. I thought about people I knew, and I thought deep thoughts that looked into myself. Yes, my vacation. In the morning I'd sleep in late, read my books of literature and geology, enjoy my coffee, and shove off to find out what was around the bend.

My humility, ultimately, was rewarded, as the Canyon allowed me to pass through it, with only six flips...

Red Velvet Cafe

How does one think
Inside the Red Velvet Cafe?
The rattle of that AC
The phone ringing at your counter
The constant pop music
Just a few notches too high
So that one must raise one's voice
To speak over it.
The customers
Trying to use the wrong door
And order at the wrong counter

What good is this espresso bar
With Wifi only for the credit card machine?

Endless mountains
And palm trees blowing in the wind...
Look away
There's enough going on in here already
This huge salad doesn't fit on its small plate
It will take all my concentration
Not to spill it.

For eighteen days I stared at water.
Water that will kill me.
Rocks that will break me
And tear holes in my boat.

Silent Ancient Canyons
That have never talked
In a million years.
And the only thing
That existed in the whole universe
Was the angle
And the speed of the water...

Sunday, April 15, 2012

The Dirty Devil River


This trip I had been meaning to do for some years, and this year I got my chance. Had my last night of work in Park City and two days later I was pushing off and going under the HWY 24 bridge at Hanksville. 8 days later I came out of a windstorm, dragged my duckie onto a pile of rocks below the Dirty Devil campsite, crawled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep. Did the shuttle the next day and headed off to Junction, getting ready for a visit home before the Grand Canyon.

Needless to say, despite all that was said and done, and all the journals I wrote, I have not yet had time to write a proper story about this amazing trip. This will suffice for now, and hopefully I will find more time this summer. Until then, the one thing I will say, is that you should not do this trip in 8 days. 8 days gets you covered for the paddling. But you need more than that to do the many hikes. 10 should be a minimum...