tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64136423883908166182024-02-20T06:22:51.770-08:00Truck HouseChris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-2995476911468145812008-09-12T12:19:00.000-07:002008-09-12T12:41:26.002-07:00Travelin' Update. Return to the van!Since the last Truck House post, a lot has happened. Shit was getting pretty <a href="http://721pm.blogspot.com/2008/06/waiting-for-lsd.html">lazy and strange</a> back in the great state of Pennsylvania. There wasn't much to report van-wise, and I hadn't made any progress with learning new tips for vandwelling. In fact, I think my <a href="http://721pm.blogspot.com/2008/08/listen-move-into-van.html">vandwelling tips are over</a>. My van is not set up beyond how I got it. I converted nothing, unless you count hacking out the back seat and throwing it in a dumpster. I'm definitely using the minimalist approach. Oh: I got a pillow-top mattress topper thing. A girl in Oregon who I met at a bar gave it to me. She also gave me a copy of Don Quixote and a bigger cooking pot. The cooking pot is an 'Emeril' signature series and seems pretty nice. Comes with a lid. I did not need to have sex with this girl to get all this great stuff, though she hinted that that's what she wanted. Am I out of my fucking mind? She was pretty. I'm going to chalk that up to all the red flags that mabye she was a little unbalanced and I didn't need to start any kind of sexual relationship with her. Or maybe I'm out of my mind and I'm afraid of sex. <br /><br />In any case, I don't know who's reading up on this blog here - but this is my update. Shit got lazy and strange, as I said, then I went on a <a href="http://721pm.blogspot.com/2008/06/kennett-square-to-nemaska.html">one-month bicycle trip</a> traveling from Philly up through Maine, and then bicycling and hitchhiking in Quebec. I spent 100% of my money. It was one of the most fantastic experiences in my life so far.<br /><br />Shit got almost instantly strange when I returned to Pennsylvania. I felt uneasy and anxious, and <a href="http://721pm.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-moving-to-oregon.html">left for Oregon</a> a few days later, putting all the gas on a credit card. I was headed to Eugene to try my best at getting a job with a bicycle manufaturer there that I highly respect. I had the credentials, but they had another candidate who got the job. I headed south to Ashland, got all fucked up and lost my credit card, and got pretty hungry and uneasy until I got this job as a dishwasher that feeds me and gives me a little bit of tip-out cash whenever I work. <br /><br />Next, I'm going to work this year's <a href="http://www.sugarbeetharvest.com/">sugar beet harvest</a> in North Dakota, then head back to Pennsylvania to see if that state continues to give me a fucking constant heart attack. I seriously think this entire wacky Oregon adventure is going to break even after the sugar beets. To me, that's just golden-hilarious.Pixy Stoneskipperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17608375991424828477noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-26670454828570905762008-06-08T17:04:00.000-07:002008-11-13T01:32:53.884-08:00Next to the big houseI'm getting super complacent back in Pennsylvania. I think my mind was healthier in Key West. I know it was. I'm parked in the driveway at my parents house. Here's what that looks like:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmljHJGi3cZBIOiuOBabD8TGcL67p-aYVScRQvmGb3C6DualVPdTR-kQK4y19SPWrMcVZcX91WXoctT_kVJdbS74fWjja8-tymR1CLayTcCCX3qbrQIck1hFaveE27WGWyKhGvcj12QbY/s1600-h/van+at+114.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmljHJGi3cZBIOiuOBabD8TGcL67p-aYVScRQvmGb3C6DualVPdTR-kQK4y19SPWrMcVZcX91WXoctT_kVJdbS74fWjja8-tymR1CLayTcCCX3qbrQIck1hFaveE27WGWyKhGvcj12QbY/s200/van+at+114.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209666757419001730" border="0" /></a>I've been stationed here for a majority of the time since getting back to this area. I sleep in the van in Philly or West Chester when hanging out or otherwise convenient - but this is my home base. I'm in the big house while I'm typing this on a laptop that was purchased for me out of the blue. The picture was taken with a digital camera from the same blue. I spend plenty of time in the big house. The parking spot is where I sit for really long periods of time letting my thoughts run amok. I also sleep in the van. I have a paralyzing inability to decide or even picture what to do next. This feels like a possible step in the wrong direction, but I can't express exactly why. Everything is super easy for me still, but I have a nagging feeling that I need to go do something else. Part of this is a built in resentment that I have for getting everything handed to me. I would even call it guilt. But I'm not really resisting the comforts of home (the big house). Why should I feel guilty for having a 24/7 bathroom and shower right next door? And expensive electronics that fall from the sky? I have a really crazy inability to figure out my own feelings sometimes. This, compounded with lots of drinking. Also other personal issues that I can't figure out, like girls. I'd love to just blame all this on something easy. But my brain can't fool itself when something is afoot.Pixy Stoneskipperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17608375991424828477noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-91631487161977939392008-05-05T15:44:00.000-07:002008-05-05T16:17:01.892-07:00home? stress? veiled perfection?I thought I'd write something here as an update, since I'm inside a house screwing around on the internet a whole lot. I found a new vehicle living blog: <a href="http://www.freedomvan.blogspot.com/">Freedom Van.</a> It's written by a girl (female... 29... I always say 'girl'). She's in Colorado, and moved into her van. The blog starts as she's going through all of the preparation - mental and logistical. She's a good writer, and I read it like a book today. The better news is that she's continually updating it. <br /><br />I'm back in Kennett Square where I grew up. I have a pile of used bicycles that I bought in order to fix up and sell. They're leaning on my parent's garage. I'm a guy who puts an ad in the paper, then buys used bicycles. Then they get fixed up and sold for a good profit. I'm also a guy who ends up surprising himself with lack of action. I haven't worked on the bicycles at all, and my savings from Key West is going bye bye. Why can't I make myself work? I like bicycles - why can't I just shut up and work on them? Weird fuckin problem.<br /><br />I've had a lot of second thoughts about the definition of home. I thought I was coming home, but I'm really just returning to a geographical area which is familiar. An area where I felt anxiety and stress before, and where I feel some now. It's a manageable amount of these feelings, I'm trying to describe rather than complain. I'm aware my anxiety is small compared to Bad Shit other people have to deal with. At least I know I can live a simple van-home life and thus be out of range of certain financial tragedy in the form of fucked up bills to people I don't like. I readily feel that life is good and simple - so what's with this fucking tight-chest nonsense? I have to think to breathe. <br /><br />I spent two nights inside a house in a bed, and I felt like I was cheating. I park often at my parent's house in the driveway. It's a great big house with a great big view of trees and a little piece of some woods. I can sit for hours and hours in my life-is-easy chair and relax with the doors open. But sometimes it feels false, like setting up a tent in the back yard - then going inside to use a bathroom and pop some popcorn in the microwave. That's not camping! This is not van living! (I accuse myself). What does that matter? I've slept on residential streets and at the farm. I love my van most, and we're achieving awesome moments as a routine. That's just a thought - I have no conclusion drawn from this. <br /><br />I want Tara (hobostripper) to mention a special herb to calm my ass down. I found one herb, also known as pot. Smoking that alleviates some symptoms, but I'm not going to just be a pothead and act like that fixes something. <br /><br />I'd like to kinda just get the fuck out of here. First I have to fix up these bicycles and sell them. I need the money. Also keeping me here is the thought that I won't be here long. I'm going to ride my bicycle to Nemaska, or at least set out again with the intention of doing so. That's a sweet little adventure. So I need to fix bicycles, make money, and learn some French for traveling in Quebec. When I was riding through Quebec before, I vowed to learn French. Now I just gotta chill out with some Rosetta Stone action (language learning software).<br /><br />So that's my plan: stress around and hope for a magical chill pill and bide my time until I ride a bicycle all over. Hopefully something I do, or somewhere I end up soon, will make me open my eyes and laugh at my awesomely perfect caricature of a predicament.<br /><br />If anyone wants to ride a bicycle up the east coast and hide in the woods with me at night, please give me a call or send me an email. I get along with everyone, with few exceptions. If this sounds interesting, I bet we'd get along fine.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-11343494408897093242008-02-10T11:00:00.001-08:002008-05-05T15:44:27.558-07:007:21pm - the blog that's updated every day.If you heard about this blog on the radio, or in the paper you might want to look at my other blog that actually gets updated every day. It has plenty of little snapshots of what it's like for me to live in a van. I write down what I'm doing at 7:21pm - I have the alarm on my watch set. The Truck House blog has detailed specific information about my van. My van doesn't change every day, so it doesn't warrant a blog update all the time. But 7:21 keeps rolling around, so if you check that blog or click up an RSS feed, you'll get a slice of my life every day. Slice of life like a slice of pie. Delicious slice of life. Actually, just read the hobostripper blog. She's more interesting 'cause she moves around and writes almost every day. I follow her blog like nobody's business. Both of those blogs are linked over to the right. And also here: <a href="http://721pm.blogspot.com">721pm.blogspot.com</a>Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-74274480752164121662008-02-03T21:51:00.000-08:002008-02-06T08:05:00.002-08:00Cooking, cleaning, state of mindI've seen Rambo and Cloverfield for free. At the last showing, the Regal<br />Cinema very often does not have a person ripping tickets. When I see<br />that, it's tempting to just not pay $9. Steve was along to see those<br />movies. "Sneaking in" is sort of an every man for himself proposal,<br />but he didn't have trouble sauntering right in either.<br /><br />If you're worried about me not eating enough - because you know me and<br />you know that could happen - don't worry. According to the scale at<br />Winn Dixie, I'm about 15 pounds heavier. I attribute this to bad<br />habits formed almost immediately upon arrival down here. Specifically:<br />buying pre-made food and eating the known too-big portions. Buying<br />between one and three donuts with my coffee. Drinking tall beers all<br />the time. I'm setting this straight now, and finally getting back to<br />my original plan of cooking more, and being reasonable. I have an a-list of regular<br />groceries. I get Life Cereal with apple juice, and soft bagels and<br />peanut butter. Sometimes bananas, and I'm thinking about getting<br />apples. I recently got broccoli and that was positive. For stuff to<br />cook, I get pasta - preferably the whole grain kind - and pasta sauce.<br />One of my favorite easy meals is made by Lipton - get those pouches of<br />noodles or rice that cook in 7 minutes. I, Chris, am telling you to get them.<br />There are at least ten different flavors, and it's a 'just add water'<br />affair. Don't even need the right amount of water - just go for it.<br />I also eat Chunky soups, and canned chili. Other food comes up,<br />but that's the main stuff. It's easy and you don't need a fridge.<br />Let me tell you - for that stuff you don't need much. I didn't pack a<br />fork, and curiously I've realized it's not worth the effort to get<br />one. Where would I keep it? My spoon goes in my mug that I eat<br />cereal out of. That all gets squished between two bed sections near<br />the wall, and a fork would really crowd up the mug. I'd have to put<br />it somewhere when I eat cereal. And I'd have to keep the fork with<br />the spoon - and I like the spoon where it is - so I'm not really<br />itching for a fork these days. When I do some rearranging of this van<br />later on up north, I'm going to have a really good idea of what I<br />actually need, and where I'm going to put it.<br /><br />I don't do the dishes very much. Here's a solution that works. I<br />have two little cooking pots, one little yellow colander, a ceramic<br />cereal mug, a plastic drinking mug, and a spoon. The cereal mug has<br />bits of cereal stuck to it. I get what I can, and let the rest just<br />dry up and stick. When you have cereal later, it'll come unstuck and<br />other bits will take over. If you drink water from this mug, you will<br />get some of that cereal. This works fine. When you cook in a pot,<br />then finish eating your food out of it, it is usually still warm, and<br />you can wipe it out with a paper towel. If you can't get it with a<br />paper towel, or two in some circumstances, then leave it. Next time<br />you cook, the problem will take care of itself.<br /><br />I'm happy. I've gotten used to sleeping and cooking in my van. I<br />like it. I think part of this personal success is tied to the<br />simplicity. I have no worries, no real errands, and I know that this<br />style of living is a cinch to sustain indefinitely.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-58390435667435412932008-01-12T12:24:00.000-08:002008-01-12T12:57:06.923-08:00New job / new bike1) my laptop died. It rough, I know. It might be a minute before I can replace it. I'm at the library with 0 time to write this.<br /><br />2) I got a new bike for $30. Some local old bike guy. It's a Raleigh road bike frame converted to a coaster brake bike with 26" wheels, fenders, and handlebars with a moderate rise. The seatpost is frozen at a very reasonable height for me. I'd like to have the bike that I plan to tour on later this summer (build it) - but having a $30 shit-bike seems to make sense too. It rides pretty nice for Key West. Nothing special, and the coaster hubs clacks, as they sometimes do when too tight. We'll see about this - I only got it about 30mins ago. <br /><br />3) most importantly, I got a job for at least 2 days a week at Eaton Bikes. Now I'm going to do pedicab only on Friday and Saturday, and be a mechanic for another 2 days. That means 3 days per week off, and I can sleep when it's dark outside a lot more. This is important, because my van gets hot when the sun is beating down on it. Sleeping at night with less traffic and sun will help me out a lot. Eaton Bikes pays $15/hr cash. I'm not on the books. No job interview either. I just started pulling tickets, and fixing bikes. It's a great atmosphere. Nobody acts cool, nobody is holding a stopwatch on you. And: employees buy at cost. Probably the best feature of working at a shop. <br /><br />4) That means I might stick around for awhile if everything is treating me great. It's warm, I'm making some amount of money. I'm in more debt than when I started (van, loss of $ for truck)... but maybe I can make that turn around. I'm eating a lot of Life cereal, and I'm 'cooking' (heating mostly) my own food instead of buying $10k food per day. I still buy food, but it's getting a lot more reasonable. And I'm drinking Natural Ice, which everyone knows will save hundreds per month.<br /><br />5) That means things are getting figured out a little better finally. All this cooking, and job sorting is a pretty recent thing, so more about that later. Van living is getting pretty normal. I have a spot where I can always stay that is always in the shade, and is always fine. I want to move around... but it's tempting to just park in this lot by my friends' apartment every single night. There's very limited parking on this little island, and a lot of van people.<br /><br />6) I swear I'll get some pictures. The dead laptop doesn't help. But I'll be making a flickr account with a lotta shit.<br /><br />7) I have seen every movie at the local theatre except for Alvin and the Chipmunks. I won't see that. I bring in booze and an Albertson's 'Poorboy' sandwich from next door. That's like 5 movies in a month. Charlie Wilson's War, Alien vs. Predator, I am Legend, Walk Hard, and National Treasure Book of Secrets (had to get woken up). Mary told me I shouldn't avoid the movies because I'd be going alone. She was very right. I'm perfectly amused there by myself.<br /><br />8) I need to find someone to take out the van's damn enormous electric folding bed. Then I need a twin mattress or something similar. And a damn 12v fan for peter's sake. I have a list, and the fan isn't even on it. Bigger cooking pot and french press are on the list. And banannas. I'm waiting around for cheap things or free things. Funny when you can spend $9 on a movie, $5 on a sandwich, but not $8 on a cooking pot because there will eventually be a $1 or free one. If there was a french press, I'd just buy it.<br /><br />9) Debt: $10,716 on credit card. $1998 on loan accout (for van). Then student loans of $2156. Wow, did I screw up big for a number of years. Hopefully I can turn this around in a noticable way.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-77145434222821375472008-01-09T11:18:00.000-08:002008-01-09T11:36:30.458-08:00Truck House SOLD / Steinbeck GOOD / Heart ALOOFI sold Truck House, and now I have one less thing to think about. I slept in it one last time in the northern keys somewhere below Key Largo. I got at least 7 hours of sleep. Not bad at all! That thing I was sleeping on in Truck House is more comfortable than the fold out bed in the van. I hafta get someone with some real-man tools to help me get that bastard removed and into a dumpster. The Truck House bed, though comfortable, had to be included in the sale. No way I'm Greyhounding it all the way back. <br /><br />My City Bike was stolen. If anyone in Key West sees a cheesy green-metallic Diamondback mountain bike with 3-speed-style handlebars and a big yellow milk crate on back: shoot the rider. I leaned it on a wall, got in the van to change for work, came out: it was gone. 2 mins. 4:15pm on a tiny, almost invisible side street. Fuck you.<br /><br />I'm at a library in Del Ray Beach. That's near Boca Raton. I lived in Boca Raton for 8 months in a past life. I ghosted over to Einstein Bros Bagels, and had a spiritual moment with the same food and free refill that I got regularly 2 winters ago. I'm about 5 years older now. It was a pleasant stop to reflect and read The Red Pony for a little bit. That's not a crappy story if you're not in 6th grade - and Steinbeck is great. Evidence: Tortilla Flat. Like a less sarcastic Salinger. But descriptive and amusing.<br /><br />I don't know where my heart is. I know it's in my chest, but I don't know where it ought to really be. Home is Pennsylvania, but I'm not going there yet. My heart is not in Key West: but I'm happy and warm there while I figure out this puzzle. Right now my heart is getting a cheeseburger across the street. Then we'll resume our dialog when we catch the bus.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-73454020840281771542008-01-08T08:41:00.000-08:002008-01-08T09:12:17.164-08:00UpdatesI got through Christmas and the New Year pretty well down here in Key West. I've had thoughts of moving, and still do, all the time. Before that occurs, I'm tying up some loose ends. Truck House has been sold on eBay. I'm getting $2000, and delivering it about 5 hours to the north tomorrow. I'll be the happy man with a secret drink on the Greyhound tomorrow.<br /><br />I'm an outlaw. I had a fake police man banging on my van this morning. I wish he would have thought to just knock politely, and say "excuse me." But that's not how it goes. I was stupid for parking at Publix overnight, so I wasn't surprised. I just hid under my blanket while he shined his light around. I know he couldn't really tell anything, so when he went to his car, I slipped on some shorts and drove away. Just as happy not to say a word to anyone.<br /><br />I thought about this later, and part of me deciding to live in a van is the same as the part of me that just likes to 'get away' with stuff. The same part that feels entitled to do whatever I want if it doesn't hurt anyone else. I don't like my van getting banged on at night, but I feel like I should be allowed to live in a van, so I do, and damn the consequences if someone doesn't like it. I wonder how long I will be living in the van. At this point, I really don't picture myself in an apartment. I like the van, and I don't even have it set up nearly as well as it will be, with electricity, skylight, roof vent, etc. Also, I'll have a bed that takes up less than 50% of the living area (I need to address that soon...). With all that - and complete mobility - and no apartment rent - and no foundation to tie me down: it might be awhile. It all hinges on good parking and my desire to keep on finding it. I look forward to leaving Key West and spending time in a National Forest parked in the woods by a fire reading a book. And going to Oregon when it's warm. And I most look forward to a long, long bicycle trip on my City Bike, which is getting a parts makeover very shortly. <br /><br />I don't have much to report aside from my aspirations. Key West is a good place to be, but I work too many hours. It's getting pretty normal here, and I'm ready to go. But the Klopps might come down here, and I want to see that happen. Jennie said she'd visit, and I'd like to see that. (Jennie: if you read this, there's room for two in the van - I measured it.) Also coming up: more money from more tourism? A new job? <br /><br />One more report. I finally got a camping stove that I really like. It's the $19.99 coleman propane one that you can get anywhere. It's too big for a bicycle trip, but it's really good for cooking in a van with the doors open. This changes my life for the better. I hope I'm cooking on this when I'm 50.<br /><br />Current location: outside at Bubba's, where you can do laundry, get free wifi, and order food. I'm doing laundry. It's beautiful outside. My laptop and phone are now charged.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-39861730748642575202007-12-22T11:12:00.000-08:002008-11-13T01:32:55.462-08:00Truck 4 sale<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHxYrOBNfuhyphenhyphenOR2_8DAVyGaX2tQoimPZ5QiIgzP5_L1YKsUSmXRI9BvWXB0V2y9fR_Wy2RevbAkkTpr17JeCvWp6TnbdWI3BTHPO84Lzi0Fkwl8rgY7sG_JRm0fBh2dHqa7Hk8cHcCjk/s1600-h/vh_steering.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaHxYrOBNfuhyphenhyphenOR2_8DAVyGaX2tQoimPZ5QiIgzP5_L1YKsUSmXRI9BvWXB0V2y9fR_Wy2RevbAkkTpr17JeCvWp6TnbdWI3BTHPO84Lzi0Fkwl8rgY7sG_JRm0fBh2dHqa7Hk8cHcCjk/s200/vh_steering.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883736833601298" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDobfLtkp8GOdYTkVXXDkqvA0twsV9ZnXinP8QiaTXR5xg3M-j2gyCZCscB4KlnruaMF29rZ-8Ni2TRmEUU1dvRXHdNTLdoYrooA7DNJ0WMBgc9CS7rndjlizoXgYtXhgOKYJurUD0Wq4/s1600-h/van_house.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDobfLtkp8GOdYTkVXXDkqvA0twsV9ZnXinP8QiaTXR5xg3M-j2gyCZCscB4KlnruaMF29rZ-8Ni2TRmEUU1dvRXHdNTLdoYrooA7DNJ0WMBgc9CS7rndjlizoXgYtXhgOKYJurUD0Wq4/s200/van_house.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883419006021314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6vuaTvL0OUbv7QIZodcHN_jWbU4ScGNzaLgf8ffRIrVfvavL-WnDISMMsTj7yIHaCjZAAtvEOBbx_yoqIVvvMqQfu2h-gYyFY_Pliz6Pbyatnbd-0vW3hYSrx9h91q8CiOjPlQ16cfk/s1600-h/van_house2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6vuaTvL0OUbv7QIZodcHN_jWbU4ScGNzaLgf8ffRIrVfvavL-WnDISMMsTj7yIHaCjZAAtvEOBbx_yoqIVvvMqQfu2h-gYyFY_Pliz6Pbyatnbd-0vW3hYSrx9h91q8CiOjPlQ16cfk/s200/van_house2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883419006021330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SOdDN7qPt1ibC-7soMj4mLtL8pxMBNSrthUR4JzqXnZMHzq0CzFcWRSm3Kkbxn-BA4XS1t4XH5tZ0ciO_0YiWmcdr0ZbE1loz60LLFMxOPkWZfRuYFpMxkPnF8tX9loA_-xw8qPLL7I/s1600-h/vh_back.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4SOdDN7qPt1ibC-7soMj4mLtL8pxMBNSrthUR4JzqXnZMHzq0CzFcWRSm3Kkbxn-BA4XS1t4XH5tZ0ciO_0YiWmcdr0ZbE1loz60LLFMxOPkWZfRuYFpMxkPnF8tX9loA_-xw8qPLL7I/s200/vh_back.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883423300988642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFiRV0RL9ITLYhOJZRyvRx47BAmjKlswFpcUg8HFqVlaOfzkvAaoU5Mmll6ZDXy_jSMdMflNCjGAvRezalUC6fevbW-7Gt0odx5UOiXohRW-NCjQZ9yDQMde75kW4_tNc0gPVvH2vU7Os/s1600-h/vh_forward.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFiRV0RL9ITLYhOJZRyvRx47BAmjKlswFpcUg8HFqVlaOfzkvAaoU5Mmll6ZDXy_jSMdMflNCjGAvRezalUC6fevbW-7Gt0odx5UOiXohRW-NCjQZ9yDQMde75kW4_tNc0gPVvH2vU7Os/s200/vh_forward.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883423300988658" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQ2lHKjO2c6oYoX9J5UJQo_SnfMFZgUn8ryGB51TqlhrzDjQmiL1XdGTy4Vp1w_VeLsX2h-SfBsuJvzplf0QvOEE-AVTCaXdWN821FWbhuK6EhzHn2tMbmGG_Ddn0L4g4_gX5UlZAzAs/s1600-h/vh_side_view.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzQ2lHKjO2c6oYoX9J5UJQo_SnfMFZgUn8ryGB51TqlhrzDjQmiL1XdGTy4Vp1w_VeLsX2h-SfBsuJvzplf0QvOEE-AVTCaXdWN821FWbhuK6EhzHn2tMbmGG_Ddn0L4g4_gX5UlZAzAs/s200/vh_side_view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146883427595955970" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPp8q4BrziicUJJEjwXVoHuVolQkfY0wKWatnPJkMfiwEyxuVKmCvINrXlSCF0CVv5UvsQzWE62LLj25F3A4_yzO1oYby_ee_Xpx6yCO-4xOhQy3PUlKtZzgxGT5EYWeY-zSbBz4lhTs/s1600-h/living_truckhouse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPp8q4BrziicUJJEjwXVoHuVolQkfY0wKWatnPJkMfiwEyxuVKmCvINrXlSCF0CVv5UvsQzWE62LLj25F3A4_yzO1oYby_ee_Xpx6yCO-4xOhQy3PUlKtZzgxGT5EYWeY-zSbBz4lhTs/s320/living_truckhouse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146878866340687538" border="0" /></a><br />I'm definitely flying by the seat of my pants down here. Two vehicles, one license plate, nowhere to hide. The good news is I managed to find my misplaced digital camera and thus was able to get Truck House on eBay about a minute ago. If you want to buy Truck House, here's the link:<br /><br /><a href="http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&ih=012&sspagename=STRK%3AMESE%3AIT&viewitem=&item=220185897340&rd=1">http://cgi.ebay.com/ebaymotors/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&ih=012&sspagename=STRK%3AMESE%3AIT&viewitem=&item=220185897340&rd=1</a><br /><br />Also included here is a picture of Truck House showing how it was set up like a squatter cabin. That's how it was. Not uncomfortable, but not very well thought out. In comparison, the van (Van House?) is much more 'open.' I can have the side windows open, and even get a breeze. I have the entire back section curtained off with three $3.50 table cloths from K-Mart which are clipped in place with those clips I got at Staples. This setup is about as near-perfect as I can imagine. The cloth is thin enough that it lets in some light and breeze. I can see shapes of things or people outside, but nobody can see in at all, hands cupped to the window or anything. The curtains are a reasonable match to the color scheme, and go to the inside of the existing curtains and 'window dressing shit.' This results in a thoroughly normal looking vehicle. The built-in ambient lighting, reading lamps, and storage space are all great. It's TV-ready. If I want to start watching movies, I can just plug the components right in. For now, I have underwear and a quasi medicine cabinet instead. I have to do something about the enormous electrically powered fold-out bed. It takes up twice as much space as it should. I'm also carting around an extra captain's chair that I took out of the floor. That's jammed head-first behind the bed. I'm thinking about throwing all that stuff in a dumpster on the fly. But then I won't have it "if I need it." To me this is a highly amusing "stuff" dilemma for someone trying to simplify.<br /><br />I was talking to Seth yesterday to find out where he said the unlimited french toast was. He is constructing a deck on the roof of his van, which is strap-clamped in place. He built it in the Home Depot parking lot. When I was talking to him he was standing up there putting a canvass 'fence' around it with bamboo posts. He's going to drive into the desert and set up camp, and have a little star gazing setup. Seth was talking to another guy who lives in his pickup truck. This guy told us that he enjoys that the last thing he sees before sleeping is the stars. He said he wasn't trying to be poetic or some shit, but there is so much action up there. Then he asked if I wanted to buy any porno dvds. That reminded me that I think I've seen him before in the K-Mart parking lot, when I was deliriously tired after no-sleep when Truck House was getting worked on. "Nah, man, I don't have a TV anyway." "You sure you don't want to look at what I got?" "Nah - I don't even have electricity." Pause... "I <span style="font-style: italic;">believe</span> you..." Somehow that caused me to burst out laughing. "Alright then."<br /><br />I ran into Seth again today getting breakfast from Publix. I gave him the Van House tour, and got his strong approval. He was excited to poke around under the hood and start looking at conditions and fluids. He knows I know nothing of this, but we compared engine areas for a few minutes and chatted. He said everything looks great on my end, and showed me where he has some cardboard and shit jammed in his engine compartment keeping that great as well. He paid $500 for his van. Maybe I'll do that some day when I learn how to fix 1979 vans. I like the idea of a fucked up painted beast. He's got a real gem.<br /><br />I'd like to have something meaningful to say about my feelings concerning Truck House, but I really can't come up with something. It seems that it was just a box truck, and a vessel to get me down here, and a place to sleep. I have no real love or hate for Truck House, but from a practical standpoint I'll be happy to see it go.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-63157931346992481942007-12-21T11:27:00.000-08:002007-12-21T11:33:19.001-08:001990 GMC Vandura conversion vanI'm sitting in my new van. I made an offer, which was subsequently accepted, for a van on eBay. As I've stated, a van will fill my needs much better than Truck House, and make much more sense overall. As I have not yet stated, but would like to now: this van is awesome. It's a 1990 GMC Vandura conversion van outfitted with the "Explorer" package. The 'Explorer' part is just a description of which company decked out the interior. The van has 91,000-some miles, and drives dreamily. It's quiet, rolls smooth on the highway, is very clean and makes me very happy. It has a CB radio. <br /><br />After wiring funds for the van on Tuesday, I left yesterday in a rented car on a one-way trip to the St. Petersburg-Clearwater airport. There I met the seller, Don, who took me to my purchase. We gawked and squawked for a few minutes, starting it up and opening the doors and closing them - then he signed over the title. Since I want to register it in Pennsylvania, and this is Florida, and it was already 6pm, I had no tag - temporary or otherwise. I decided to roll without one, and I'm about 50 miles from Key West now where I'll deposit the van in a safe location until a proper tag can arrive. I had a long drive and very little sleep at the point of purchase, and left in my new car pre-exhausted for a night of fun.<br /><br />Within a couple hours, traveling approximately nowhere due to a couple stops, I parked at a Wal-Mart. I was happy and delirious. I went into Wal-Mart to look for something to use as a curtain (maybe a curtain), and ended up with a reflective windshield shade, a long skinny sandwich, and a 4 pack of tall Miller High Life. It took at least 30 minutes to round up these items. The back of the van (license plate end) was parked into some shrubs, so I thought I was safe for the night. Windshield cover in place, curtains closed and clipped tight, I called it a night. I drank 2.5 of the beers and accomplished the sandwich before passing out. I was pretty well hidden, but a security guard busybody had me beat. Around 3am I got a knock on the side door from a police officer who was looking for clues. I kept my bottom half in my sleeping bag, and answered the door. He asked a few things that I can still remember.<br />"Have you been drinking?"<br />- "yes"<br />"Well I can see it and smell it" (gotcha!)<br /><br />This exchange amused me. I already admitted it, and he continued with his line anyway. At this point, he wanted to know about the no-plate thing. I told him that I just bought it hours ago, and I pulled over because I couldn't keep my eyes open. I showed him the title and bill of sale. Then he had to take some notes. I liked this exchange.<br />"Eyes... blue"<br />- "Blue"<br />"Tattoo of a turtle on your stomach"<br />- "yup"<br /><br />All noted on the police-work tablet. He told me where to get a temporary tag (which would have been the smart thing to do), and he told me about the ordinance against sleeping in vehicles, (but I could sit in the driver's seat). He said not to drive, or something-something consequences. Then he left. When I judged that he'd been gone for about one minute, I got the hell out of there and parked behind a church. Best sleep ever.<br /><br />After some driving this morning, I went to Waffle House, and on the way out some radio DJs from some show called me. I don't know who or what show, and I wouldn't have answered the call if I knew I'd be on the air, etc. These were the first DJs who were real dull-normal jackasses. Real proponents of the 9-5 work week and having money to buy things to make you happy. I was slightly successful at setting the record straight at a few points, but they were persistently boring and unimaginative. They were pretty mediocre humans. They're the kind of guys who might run over your cat, then trivialize it.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-52399868544352931552007-12-15T07:39:00.000-08:002007-12-15T07:53:46.200-08:00S'not all greatAll these posts seem really happy. And I've captured some great moments for myself here. At the heart of it all - my heart - I'm still homesick a lot. Or just looking for another change. I'm not completely wild about the job, and I'm not so wild about the truck either. I've had some great moments, but I have a tendency to screw it up by thinking about what could be better. A van would truly make more sense for me. The interior of Truck House has a huge amount of wasted space. These pedicabs are so mechanically beat that it boggles the mind. This is my complaining post to balance out the ones that make it seem like everything is 100% peachy-awesome. I'm thinking about several things. Hobostripper (aka Tara) who I respect and find to be wise, said if you're not happy, move the fuck on. I'd like to see San Francisco and Portland. I think that feels important. I'm definitely switching to a van, but don't know when. Money rules my mind, and I keep hearing "keep the bike, keep the bike" - the pedicab - because in a week, we'll all be making money. This gives me comfort. But I'm still apprehensive. I'm still parking in my a-list spot, hoping nobody notices or cares. I kinda just want to see how that plays out, cause there is NO other spot on this island 1/10th as good.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-51540766517618184392007-12-13T11:30:00.000-08:002007-12-15T07:39:43.106-08:00Truck's Fixed / Everybody DancesTruck seems good for now anyway. On Stock Island, $380 will buy you a three night stay at a repair shop, two new batteries (main and backup), and a long and possibly coked-up story about 499 trophies. <br /><br />I don't have much Truck House specific news, so I'm just going to start sharing moments that give a picture of what it's like here in Key West for me. I do have one specific story that is closely related to vehicle living though. I had my first police encounter.<br /><br />I had about 4 beers on the beach after work. Two big beers in reality. One bottle one can. (Clap your hand). Then I zipped out to Stock Island, which is the next island up from Key West, to get into Truck House. I was opening the lock and rolling up the back door when a police cruiser pulled in behind me pretty fast. His main concern was to establish that I was a person, and this was my truck. I showed him my ID so he knew I was real. It was clear that I hadn't jimmy'd the lock. Basically it was 4am and he saw me with the city bike (highly suspect bum-machine) and thought I might be breaking in. I told him I live with the brazilian guys who I ride the pedicabs with, but I was crashing here 'cause I didn't want to impose on them tonight. The cop was pretty nice about it, and gave me zero bullshit. He asked to look inside, and I rolled up the door so he could stick his flashlight in there. He even said something like "cool setup." This encounter went as good as possible because I gave short reasonable answers and kept my fucking mouth shut at every opportunity. Then I got in and burned some incense to try to get rid of the wood and paint smell. That's starting to work for me.<br /><br />Right now, flash forward to truck-is-fixed, I'm parked in my A-list spot with the roll up door halfway up. It's fine. I'm catching a breeze, there are people walking around and parking, nobody cares. I just watched a Key West rain storm - a long one at about 30 minutes. I also got about a two hour nap right here with the back door open and a modest breeze keeping me very comfortable. I'm settling in. I won't let myself be concerned with the police anymore. I'll do what I think is fair and reasonable, because I don't like being sneaky or scared, which I had an initial tendency to feel. Each day I plan like a dog. Sit around at one place until for some reason you get up and move - I roll around endlessly on a cheap bike. All of my time is spent outside, and the truck is there just to sleep in. I haven't had a real (long/hot) shower for 13 days, and I don't care. I haven't had electricity, and I haven't needed it. My little 3 AA battery lantern is on the original batteries, and I'm making enough money to buy whatever I want. Cuban sandwiches. I ate two of the best sandwiches down here. Best ingredients, then they get smooshed flat in a special industrial strength Forman grill. I danced around a little bit on the end of the pier last night. This is a pretty easy place to "put in the time" as Huck Finn put it. "Dog my cats" as Jim might add.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-5952658494300057412007-12-10T09:14:00.000-08:002007-12-10T09:33:13.583-08:00Outrageous aspectsKey West has a huge population of stray cats and roosters. Roosters are literally all over the place just strutting around and making noise. The population of wild homeless folks is also very high. This is the capital of being homeless with flair. There are a lot of drifter-performers and outlandish drunks. There are at least a few ever-present known-drunk-Santas. One is a jerk on a cruiser. I'm developing a shouting relationship with several recognized characters with whom pointless warm greetings are exchanged. In a town with no enforced open beverage laws it turns into a real scene. Key West also has some highly outrageous bicycles. The number of asinine cruisers per capita is way up. Tall-tall handlebars are everywhere. Paint schemes and rust cover bikes on every block. I commented on one, and the paint was reportedly done by Captain Outrageous, who was running for mayor some years ago. Guys in box trucks are cool, but they won't ever make the front page of The Citizen. I met a guy who blows glass in a van. He said he needs to get some gear first, but he'll show me how to blow some pipes - it's easy. He said I'd see him out on the street. I have, and I will. He sells glass, and his friends do various hippie street performer stuff.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-74189465795450741622007-12-10T08:40:00.000-08:002007-12-10T09:14:51.917-08:00Sleeps, peeps and trucksI'm at the library again. I can tell about a few things. The day before yesterday, I was parked in a great spot and had the roll up door open and I was cooking and having a good time before work. I did a radio interview again - for CBS radio? - and got to tell them I was having a great time and looking out at the water and cooking. That was really nice. I did another radio interview - don and mike? - about 20 mins later. I think that's it for the media. The interviews are pretty damn fun though. I feel like I get to set people straight about some silly points about the way things are and the stuff people need. I get to say how I'm out at 3am taking buck naked showers at the beach, and other fairly random stuff. <br /><br />So the next morning I was still parked at the hot spot, and Truck House wouldn't start. I had to get towed to Stock Island, just across the bridge. For some reason this didn't even bother me. Typically I'd get all bent up about it, but I didn't feel a thing. I was headed over there anyway to get a safety check when the truck wouldn't start. The 'wrecker' (tow truck for trucks) dropped Truck House off pretty close to the road, US-1. I decided to pack up what I thought I needed and see if I could spend a night without Truck House. After work, I stayed up drinking three tall beers at the beach slowly, and continued to screw around on my bike and at Waffle House until after the sun came up. Eventually I just went to the truck and tried to sleep. I'm not 100% sure, but I think I got zero sleep. The truck was still parked right next to the road, and trucks were whizzing by. Eventually I just got up and tried to manage. By the time work rolled around I was pretty deprived of sanity. I was just thinking everything was funny, and doing a lot of laughing. I didn't work very hard, and I even fell asleep in the back of the cab for a half hour down by the pier. I ran into Seth again, and he suggested we get key lime pie and french fries at a place where he gets half off. At this point, I was ready to throw in the towel. Pies and fries was perfect. We talked about things ideas and places, and I got some perspective. Seth said "Isn't it funny they don't get it at all and we're sitting here having key lime pie in paradise?" I'd told him all this wasn't completely easy for me, but I also agreed completely. Definitely a good guy.<br /><br />I went from there to a hotel pool. Then I headed for the Truck feeling clean and cold. The Truck was still in the same spot. I slept fine though, since I got about zero hours last night. I woke up to the sound of the hood getting popped open. I got dressed and got out and told them I sleep in the truck. They thought that was pretty normal. I think the battery just died, but I'm waiting for the final report on that and the rattling that the engine does. <br /><br />Last night my friend Mateos from Brazil (and from work) told me to hold the back of his moped and get pulled with my bike. We went for a little bit, and I said "I can ride faster than this!" He said let's race, and I think he got a kick out of opening the moped all the way up with me still rolling about 5 feet behind. I'm always trying to race a moped on the city bike.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-59861683424967177642007-12-08T11:20:00.000-08:002007-12-10T08:40:25.370-08:00Who I metI'm in a pretty good mood at this point. I have met some pretty fantastic individuals, and I'm happy to know these people exist. After work on my second night I was walking around the beach paths around 2am or so. I ran into a guy riding a bicycle around and waved. That was Dan from Maryland who drove down here to simplify his life and live outside. My age. We have a lot of the same thoughts and feelings about life and all of the details. Our move down here was similarly motivated, except that he is going to the extreme in his thinking and actions in some ways, where I am striving hard to find a happy sustainable medium toward that side of the spectrum. We discussed this and other ideas until about 6am. He hangs out with others who sleep outside on the beach and island.<br /><br />Sleeping in the Truck at this point was starting to wear thin. Too much traffic outside, and sleeping late is difficult. That makes it tough when I get off of work at 4am. I had another pretty poor night of sleeping, and left the island when I woke up to find a place to open the roll up door and air it out and cook some food. On my way back I parked about a hundred yards behind what I suspected were other vehicles being lived in. I wanted to talk to another vehicle dweller to learn their experiences with living here. I found the king! I waved at him a little tentatively through his open door, and he put down his book quickly and invited me in with a warm greeting. I asked a few questions, and he showed me a fat file of paperwork about his experiences in Key West as a vehicle dweller. He was taken to court in 1994, and his case was dismissed. He showed me the original article with a headline stating that a 'man proved living in a vehicle is legal.' I gave him a tour of Truck House, and we discussed the pros and cons. Then we picked up his goofy yellow Schwinn with a small front wheel, stopped by where my city bike was parked, and he showed me some good parking areas that I hadn't yet seen. This man is a smart friendly character. He also introduced me to Seth who lives in his van which is painted all shades of radical. I ran into Seth later and found out he was accepted at MIT. Seems like a pretty smart guy.<br /><br />Last night, my third night of pedicabbing, I saw Nicholi, one of the guys who sleeps outside, and stopped to talk. He was friends with Dan, who introduced us briefly before we went on a walk. Nicholi, in his own words, is chasing the sun. Random guy said "the cops won't mess with you unless you're really fucking up." Nicholi said "yeah, that's the problem, I'm always fucking up and drinking or some kind of shit." He's very vocal, and he's clearly a good person. He introduced me to some others. Then he said Dan packed up his car and left, and he didn't tell anyone. He wished Dan had said something.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-60261819445262649762007-12-06T12:45:00.000-08:002007-12-06T12:55:35.953-08:00It's all pretty solidI did my first night of pedicabbing last night. I got all the paperwork in order, didn't read the handbook (as per my apparent policy), said that I didn't read it, took a lap around the parking lot of a bank, and was set loose. The man in charge, Tate, said the important thing is just to relax and have fun. So I went off down Duval St. ringing the little bell. Pedicab guys always ring the little bell. All night. At first, I was sort of wondering what I got myself into. New jobs always feel very unnatural. But I'm extremely invested down here at this point, so I'm sticking to it. And by the end of the night it was fun.<br /><br />It's interesting to note that I am the only American person doing this job. The only one. All the guys are from South America, except for the Australian guy (so far as I know). They're students or some such here to make money for a few months. Also interesting to note is the cost of renting a pedicab from the company that has me on the roster. $500 per week. Yikes. I made about $100 last night at a very lukewarm work pace. I can do better... but yikes. That is not adding up to very much money at all. Everybody claims that it's dead right now, and it will pick up exponentially in a few weeks. If I were to drop out, I'd lose my claim to one of the bikes, and I wouldn't be here to make my fortune when the boom comes. I believe the season will definitely pick up, and I hope it's big bucks. I've heard $1000 can be done on New Years, and if I stay through April I can make $10,000. I don't know how accurate that is, but as I said I feel very invested and I'm sticking around for at least some kind of real money. My first night of 'rent' was free since I'd never ridden a pedicab before. My second night is also on the house because of what happened in the next paragraph.<br /><br />There are five new guys from Argentina starting, and they need to take the test to get a US driver's license. Tate asked what kind of vehicle I have, to see if it could be borrowed. They could rent one, but a couple of the guys aren't 21, and somehow that won't fly too well. Even if someone else rented the car? I don't know why not - but anyway. I told Tate I've got a box truck, and it wouldn't be too good for taking a test, especially parallel parking. He mentioned he'd comp a nights rent. I told him I'd help, but I didn't know if using the box truck would really be helping. Well I met the South American guys at the Sheraton at 11, and showed them all about driving Truck House. Then we went to the DMV. The situation was clearly ridiculous, and we were told for various reasons that the test could not be taken in a big old truck. A guy there said the South Americans could use his car. It took more conversation than that, but that's what was said. Wow. He prepped them in native spoken Spanish, and they were in serious luck. That's a hell of a guy. I called Tate a little later to brief him on this update. I didn't have any assurances that there was something in it for me, but Tate sounds like a standup guy. He thanked me for my effort and comped my rent for tonight. Which I need. Cause I'm not seeing how I'm going to do much more than break even for a couple or a few weeks, and that might be tight.<br /><br />Flash back to when I was talking to Tate about the possibility of borrowing my truck. He asked if I'd found a place to live. I told him that I had not. He pointed out a couple options - a place he had, a friend with a boat. I told him "you know what I'd really be looking for.... is a nice parking spot." He caught the drift, and with no specific words about living in a truck he told me about a great private lot that should be quiet and legit. I'm somewhat skeptical, or rather I don't want to get my hopes up too much - but he's showing me the spot tonight.<br /><br />To further type more stuff, I'll say that I have high hopes for the pedicab job. Though it isn't currently lucrative, it's a lot of screwing around on a bike in the middle of a street of chaos. Not bad. I ended up mostly quoting flat rates to people. I made them up, and that's fine. It was slow - you could go an hour with no rides - so I tried to make the rides happen, and by the end of the night was very ready to try for another ten bucks wherever possible. I picked up three drunk girly girls. They weren't sold on a ride, but after a few exchanges we worked out $10 flat rate and no tip. I told them I'd charge $5 with a $5 tip so they wouldn't have to feel cheap about not tipping me. I took them to Sloppy Joe's and on the way we got plenty of applause and hooting. I hooted too, and made some of my typical boisterous noises. One persistent giraffe got a drink order and ran ahead. He was waiting with the drinks. The girls said they'd buy me a drink. The night was pretty much over, and I like drinks, so yeah. I'll flash forward and say that this was a good example of how I am absolutely incapable of putting on the phony-slick even when appropriate, called for, wanted, and easy to pull off. My arm totally got molested by boobs. Then I danced about 75 feet away from a girl while thinking to myself how I was having fun for the wrong reason. It was fun like watching yourself in the circus. I was somewhere up by the ceiling observing this whole scenario, and I was amused. Somebody needs to import some campfires and genuine souls down here. Sloppy Joe's is certainly not my scene. Neither was the strip club that the Brazilian guys went to after I extracted myself from those females. My brain keeps observing my body from afar, and I'd really like to get my feet onto the ground and meet a person. But I'm not too picky. Right now I'll take a situation if I can find myself in it, and be thankful. Even if I'm watching myself from somewhere else.<br /><br />I was sitting here (right here) in the cab of Truck House in the shade of a hotel, and a couple came up to the window and asked if I was in the paper. They fucking spotted me. I thought that was very impossible, though the possibility has been joked about and mentioned. I was talking to <a href="http://zazenliving.blogspot.com/">Steve Pugmire</a> on the phone when it actually happened, and he had just mentioned the possibility. I said I hoped it wouldn't happen, and I thought it very unlikely. Well two minutes later, I'm shaking hands with a couple through my window. I gave them a brief tour, and the guy gave me a $20 "donation." You know I'm not turning down money. No how! They were very nice and supportive and made me promise to buy a specific slice of pizza. Goodness me, yo.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-86923755425883845312007-12-05T07:50:00.001-08:002007-12-05T08:24:13.010-08:00Current situationI found a good internet place. Bought a coffee, and I'm milking it for all it's worth. Apparently living out of a truck is deadly interesting to the media. ABC News, Philly Inquirer, the Bob and Sherri show, and Fark.com have picked up the whiff of it. Also about a dozen things I haven't called back. I feel like I don't have much to report. Truck House is pretty inhospitable when compared to about a thousand other vehicles decked out for living. And though I like myself pretty well, I don't have the crazy adventure experience of a thousand other folks. I've been sleeping in a truck, and spending time outside. There are a ton of people sleeping in vans and sailboats and on the beach. Now: me too.<br /><br />My core desire at the moment is awesome parking. So if you're someone who knows someone on Key West who can provide that, please let me know. Seriously. There's tons of parking, and empty lots and unused driveways - but it's the kind of thing you have to clear with someone. I hope to hear from you. If you're down here, and want to hang out, call me. 610-324-6059. For real. Let's watch tv or stare at something. I'm not picky, and I'm not a jerk.<br /><br />The sleeping has been going fine. There's traffic noise and all that, but it hasn't been too hot at all. It's nice down here. That said, my main concern is trying to weave myself into the fabric down here. I'm going through all the hoops to be a pedicab driver. If not for that situation on the horizon, and the hope of meeting some people, I'd be much worse. THAT said, I had another little anxiety attack yesterday. Those fuckers are getting pesky. All I can do is wait it out. I'm not complaining - I know I get that shit in a pretty mild dose. But in the interest of being thoroughly honest about this little adventure, I'm telling you how it is. When I pulled into the keys and stopped for breakfast on Key Largo I was in love. I said "love" out loud five times in a row. Real nerd-style. I was confident and all but singing. Actually, I was singing. Erykah Badu. I took off my shirt asap, and was punching the air. That's me. A total air puncher. Since then, the best I've felt is:<br />1) NOT having anxiety (observant, satisfied)<br />2) Drunk on Steele Reserve<br /><br />I know full well that I need to find people and projects. I need missions and stuff to do. I think I'm going to start the pedicab job later today, which would be fantastic. I learned a lesson: don't let anxiety keep you from getting stuff done if at all possible. I should have had my ducks in a row within one day of being here. It took about three, and this morning I asked myself what that was all about. Then I responded with something like "that's how stuff rolls with me sometimes." <br /><br />A lot of people criticized me on Fark.com for spending $5k on the truck. That's a pretty fair thing to point out. Too much. But it should be noted that it won't decrease in value very quickly, and I'll sell it when I'm done with it. Money's money. It's a pain sometimes, and we all just keep on living anyway.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-5717826473140019072007-12-03T14:29:00.000-08:002007-12-03T16:54:24.966-08:00I'm living in the Truck nowI've got an internet connection for the minute, so here's what's up. I'm down in Key West. I've spent 2 nights in Truck House, and I'm still adjusting. It smells like wood and paint. I don't know anyone in Key West, which is kinda difficult for a man who's made like me, but I'm dealing. Last night I parked on the north end of the island, and was serenaded by big vehicles going by fast, and planes taking off from the airport right next door. I was absolutely beat from the ride down, and only had about 4 hours of sleep if that. I zonked at 8:30 or so, and managed to get some good solid rest. I'm going to try for some quieter parking tonight.<br /><br />The weather down here is insanely beautiful. It's the weirdest mix for me between being in love with the weather, and completely tripped out every second of the day from the 'experience' I'm having here.<br /><br />My thoughts so far about vehicle living are that if you plan to try this, you should think really hard about getting a normal looking van. In my mind, a box truck looked low key to the core. Now that I've been looking at it, it seems like a big white flag with an RV door on the side. I take comfort in what I've always known: nobody notices shit. If you act normal about it, you can do whatever you want. My original plan was to leave Truck House parked in the same spot for weeks in West Chester or Philly. That is no longer my goal. I'd rather have something that takes less gas, has more windows, more ventilation, access from the cab or front (important!), and is more agile and invisible. Life is all about progress. I'm going with Truck House for now. What does the future hold? Maybe a van. Hopefully some eventual land with a BIG version of Truck House including a wood stove, huge skylights and a lot of love. Now you know about my present and my future. My heart is wide open to dreams. Though things are currently strange, I'm looking forward to relishing the present. Right now I'm the kid at the dance leaning on the wall. Better than staying at home, but my heart isn't beating at the proper speed all the time. I hope that doesn't sound to tripped out or silly.<br /><br />Also: I realize that I was just on the front page of the Philly Inquirer, below the fold. If you're reading this because of that, you can definitely leave comments or send me some email. I like people. Pre-today, this was probably only checked out by about 4 people, hence no comments, etc.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com48tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-84220080636808264452007-11-27T16:00:00.000-08:002007-11-27T16:15:58.430-08:00Pee bottleLast night I decided it might be about time to start getting used to some of the unconventional aspects of living in a truck. Specifically I decided to get used to peeing in a bottle. Get used to? I wish I took this approach years ago! I have a wide mouth Nalgene bottle with a tint to it that disguises the content. The only thing to get used to is how awesome and convenient this is. <br /><br />1) I was watching a show (The First 48hrs. on A&E), and I didn't have to leave the room to pee.<br />2) When I get up to pee in the morning , sometimes I'd like to get right back to bed but I lose some sleepy momentum on the way to the john. <br /><br />The piss bottle minimizes how much waking up you have to do. I'm also happy to note how well the screw-on lid seals. No fear of spills. I recommend a Nalgene style piss bottle for everyone (who's a male). Make sure it's a wide mouth version, and see about getting something with a tint that will obscure the true contents of the bottle. Mine is 32oz and it's good for two hefty drinking pees. I got much of the details of this idea from somewhere at www.cheaprvliving.com - a genius resource.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-75492936899225498802007-11-27T09:26:00.000-08:002007-11-27T10:25:12.750-08:00Getting soft/ leaving Friday/ pep talkBy now, I've been staying at my parents place for almost 5 months. That seems nearly impossible to me. After 3 months, I kept thinking of it as just 3. In that time I've all but lost my awesome outdoorsy hoboness that I developed on my bicycle tour in June. I've been sleeping inside, taking long hot showers, and recently I've been watching TV again. When I first got back I just wanted to sit around a fire all the time and continue to get familiar with my basic essential needs. On Friday I'm headed to Key West to follow through with this great plan. Hopefully I can spend that time getting back to the basics and falling in love with a cheap simple life. I hope I can coast back and forth between a coffee shop and the beach and some other choice spots, and appreciate how awesome and easy life can be. Realistically, I know from past experience that getting started will be difficult for me mentally. I like when people call it the blues. To me, that fits. What I'm really looking forward to is being able to peel back that layer and get to the sweet core of simple freedom and adventure. How long will it take? If I find that mental sweet spot that I'm looking for, will I be able to continue finding awesome ways to stay snuggled in satisfaction? I've been getting some tough bouts of anxiety recently. They're mixed in with happy spells too. It's like my life is a balloon - 'cause balloons are happy and awesome, but they're also filled tight and fragile. You might pop it pretty easy if you don't take care. I don't know if that makes sense to you, but it's damn close to exactly how I feel. Tenuously happy.<br /><br />I wrote myself a pep talk about going to Key West. A strong man born a free spirit shouldn't need to psych himself into smart adventures - but I'm a balloon these days, not a soccer ball. This is mildly ludicrous, but I'm going to share it anyway.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" ><blockquote> 11/22/07, Mid-Thanksgiving<br />It's an adventure, and no matter how ridiculous it can get, you should still be happy to have the opportunity. Whatever you are feeling, and whatever chemicals are screwing around in your brain, you really need to try to keep everything in perspective. Sure you'll be lonely and weirded out at first. That's ok - you know how that goes. Don't turn back and cause yourself regret before you even fully dive into the new situation. You are one of the luckiest people on earth. If that isn't good enough, then you are selfish. You could be so much worse off right now and still people would beg to trade places for a day. You could be:<br />a starving child<br />a prisoner<br />fearing death<br />born depressed<br />addicted to crack<br />struggling to raise a family<br /><br />Just find a pleasant way to take some deep breaths and relax. This might be weird, but you can't really call it a struggle. If you decide to pack up and go north, you really don't have a whole lot to get excited about. It can wait. It's colder. You'll have to get a new job. You'll miss out on a part of your adventure and you'll regret it. You aren't missing anything up north. Everything will be precisely the same when you return. Figure out what you'll do when you get back, maybe - but don't just think about how you'll be happier up there. You won't for very long - all that can wait. Stay in Key West at least a month, or you don't have a feeling for it at all and you're just freaking out because you can't deal with shit.<br /><br />If you're not feeling all that happy, that's just fake. It's human stuff coming to bog you down, and it all comes down to chemicals and you being a wuss. You'll be back up north where you know all sorts of people soon. Just chill out and try to find out everything that's going on down here. There is shit to do that is fun and takes time. I know there's a community pool with showers. You can try to seek out free food. You can try to find a group or an event. Get a book to read. You can explore a new street and memorize a map of the island. Why not check out every single street? You might find kickass parking.<br /><br />Is someone getting on your nerves about how you're staying in a Truck? Be careful not to let it bother you too much. Just move the truck the best you can, and don't let it get you down. You are 100% morally justified in this living arrangement. People should be allowed to live in a way that helps them, and hurts nobody. Pursuit of happiness. Just keep going and finding different spots if it's a problem. From the past here, I don't see how it can be a big problem, but I know the future Chris pretty well, and assume that it might weigh on your mind. Chill out. Write about it. Rendezvous at the beach!<br /><br />11/22/07 9:34pm<br />Alright, so you made your pep talk earlier today. You know how it's going to feel, and you're a little anxious right now. In fact, you're feeling a lot of anxiety. You said yourself that you feel backed into a corner. You feel like you keep starting stuff, and you never follow through. Now you've got all this stuff going on and everything seems crazy and up in the air. Well you can only expect to get through stuff one step at a time. You've had this anxiety going on for awhile. It's on and off. Sometimes Key West sounds like an easy, smart, unbeatable plan. Sometimes a different logic takes hold and it's all you can do to breathe properly. Well, you're going to have to mellow out and breathe. Life goes pretty slowly sometimes. Whether you see it clearly or not, you have to trust your(past)self that this is a golden opportunity to chill the fuck out. Put in the time.<br /><br />Back to the reason you decided to write this to yourself. You were just taking a bath, and you wanted to tell yourself some more stuff for the future. Set little goals. When you're down there, just try to find some kind of daily rhythm and try to accomplish some little goals. This might be a good time to read something about meditation. Getting some books is a really good way to spend some time and relax anyway. Find out where a good hot tub is. Or maybe a few hot tubs so you can rotate. Find out about that shower at the MLK pool. Go to the beach more than you did in Boca. Try to do something to meet people somehow. Please, try not to take things too seriously - even if everything seems to suck. Ride your bike. Maybe try to find a destination a little out of the way to make a nice regular bike ride. Couscous with something mixed into it is usually a good idea. Read a newspaper. Remember to learn about blowing glass when you get back - maybe figure out what you need and set aside money for that. Dude - if you start each morning with a jog on the beach, you'll probably be much better off. Listen to music. Be happy that you exist.</blockquote></span>So there you have it. That's some highly personal stuff with me talking to my future self. I wasn't going to post it up, but I think it gives some perspective on what's happening in my brain and my life. Current mood? I'm happy! I'm going to sit around and roll through life for awhile. But I don't think for a minute that I won't be needing to look at that pep talk. I wrote a pep talk before my bicycle tour, and it ended up helping me up in Quebec when I was stopped at a little general store. I read a book, and things were a little easier again.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-32326868802087078102007-11-14T17:53:00.000-08:002008-11-13T01:32:58.462-08:00Painting, Key West<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-ivjCTLCkYkNqc4-vaSBRB4e6BmZ81Id8qaHyodvxdEKmJ2tBzXDDOEsE1qJ09-ytodOp_mgjIwyHOCTdPZPCyX7rPNhdaQ_dgZhNVfrcY3TsNlsjSYibSfE9xpiPfEUt8rDi1iOI-E/s1600-h/painting11_14_07_02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR-ivjCTLCkYkNqc4-vaSBRB4e6BmZ81Id8qaHyodvxdEKmJ2tBzXDDOEsE1qJ09-ytodOp_mgjIwyHOCTdPZPCyX7rPNhdaQ_dgZhNVfrcY3TsNlsjSYibSfE9xpiPfEUt8rDi1iOI-E/s320/painting11_14_07_02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132884658875126242" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s3ivlgus8Gq-OCWyNVf2uCoyifP3AKSaeAWjhQ2DAeHIRyFQV5es132kg7k1w-__tKk2BJVVuINQzm9GXR4Q7i4v5YeYX0MJhStnY-kB_Bvh0c3rlY25XLnrpTbPGnCbnbAmWO-i2IU/s1600-h/painting11_14_07_01.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7s3ivlgus8Gq-OCWyNVf2uCoyifP3AKSaeAWjhQ2DAeHIRyFQV5es132kg7k1w-__tKk2BJVVuINQzm9GXR4Q7i4v5YeYX0MJhStnY-kB_Bvh0c3rlY25XLnrpTbPGnCbnbAmWO-i2IU/s320/painting11_14_07_01.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132884680349962738" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqSNOTii1peicheyOzBePTjUxcoNeIy0Ze0cnX9oZgxeg-DJ5B1towkNIp6nqYIqkoD6qJbocsvquubDiPHQN5AlvWF46RXr4TfPNfu5vleADME_IuMBq81O06hcGywyVzYzJpaB8Gcc/s1600-h/painting11_14_07_03.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVqSNOTii1peicheyOzBePTjUxcoNeIy0Ze0cnX9oZgxeg-DJ5B1towkNIp6nqYIqkoD6qJbocsvquubDiPHQN5AlvWF46RXr4TfPNfu5vleADME_IuMBq81O06hcGywyVzYzJpaB8Gcc/s320/painting11_14_07_03.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132884684644930050" border="0" /></a><br />The inside room is all built. It's about 7.5' x 10'. The living area is separated from a few more feet of not-insulated 'porch' area. That's where you put your dirty shoes, store some shit, and watch rainstorms from if you're parked in a good spot. I'm really glad to be done with the logistics of cutting wood and insulation. Now I'm on to paint, which is much more fun. I Listen to some loud music, and let it rip with the roller and some singing along. That's alright! I ended up going with bright yellow because of the light reflection factor, and the fact that Danielle and I couldn't find a bright enough pink easily enough. I'm happy with the yellow. This is, I think, coat number four in the pictures. The shitty OSB board that I used for the walls is pretty rough, and soaks up paint like a blank-blank-blank soaks up the sun. (A lot, eh!) Well, there you have it. Not much of a logistical update to this saga, but proof that I'm still chugging along.<br /><br />I got some pretty nice navy blue carpet at work, and a fold-out bed that's kinda like a chair made out of couch cushions that folds out into a sleepover mattress. If you know what I mean, great, if not, I guess you'll have to wait for more pictures. I also got an awesome sink at work. I don't remember if I mentioned all this.<br /><br />In real and actual news, I'm planning to take this beast down to Key West and work as a pedicab driver (bicycle taxi). I've kinda had that idea in the back of my mind, but I finally researched it and talked to a guy today who said if I'm there in early December, I basically have a job. I'm excited and apprehensive, but I'm going to give it a shot. I think Nat's going to go with me too. That's a dude who's my friend. We went on a fairly hearty-length bicycle trip together in June, so I know we can occupy the same small space. This will probably beat the living shit out of slogging through the landfill all winter.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-54152332622736980672007-11-04T14:10:00.000-08:002007-11-04T14:40:37.386-08:00pain in the ass walls, etcI'd like to have some pictures for you, but right now I've just got words. Look how long since my last post. It has taken a long time to get some shit done. My current task is just to put up some insulation and some wood over it. I'm basically building a box within the box. I think I've mentioned that I'm not a carpenter. You should see this shit. I guess it'll probably be functional enough, but it's pretty rough and ugly. Since I don't know what the hell I'm doing, I just took some measurements to get rough ideas, and spent an asslot of money at Home Depot. If I could go back and start from scratch, I could do a much better job and probably make it much cheaper and prettier. As it is, I'm learning a lot from my mistakes, but I'm sticking with them for now.<br /><br />I've lost a lot of space inside the box, building the ceiling pretty low to clear the roll-up door. My bunk area has gotten pretty short - don't know if that'll still work out. If not, I can store stuff up there or something. I still have to put the finishing touches on it, and take some pictures to show off, but the 'room' is basically done. I put the back wall behind the entrance door, which leaves a couple unfinished feet between the back wall and the roll-up door. That's the porch. I'm going to keep propane tanks and batteries on the porch. And probably my bike. The door to get in from the porch is probably just going to be a piece of wood that I move aside - a cheap trap door. With that setup, the truck will still look pretty stealth even when you look in the back door, or the RV entrance door.<br /><br />I'm pretty much a sick obsessive human being. I don't mean it in a bad way, but I do mean it strongly and sincerely. I love myself as much as anyone could, but there is something wrong with how one single theme at a time completely takes over my life. Living in this truck is all I think about. Sometimes I think it will work, sometimes I think it will not. One thing that steels my reserve is all this reading I've been doing about others who have had success in their own stealth-vehicle-homes. I really want to make this work, and have a better simpler life. I'm very impressed with the website cheaprvliving.com - all of the buttons on the left lead to different stories, which all fascinate me. People are happy living in vans and cars and all sorts of setups - and this website tells their stories. It's also a great resource for finding good answers to how to equip your vehicle, and how to get around the logistics of the potty, electricity, entertainment, and what-have-you. <br /><br />I'm going to paint the crap out of the ugly-ass interior of this room I built, and hopefully that will make it more awesome. I've re-decided on bright yellow. I'm going back and forth between pink and yellow, and yellow reflects more light. I don't want it to be dark and gloomy. It kinda is right now.<br /><br />I got my bed from work last week. It's just what I was looking for - one of those fold-up cushion chairs that can be laid out to form a thick cushion 'mattress.' I also got a small but awesome basin sink and some really awesome waterproof winter boots that are made in Canada. They're well insulated, and they fit perfectly. The novelty of the junk removal business is starting to wear off - but it's easy, and I keep getting all this free shit that I need.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-11300396587994060462007-10-18T16:38:00.001-07:002008-11-13T01:32:58.767-08:00Insulation Installation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPd_fAli8395BXmw2eGo2IWHqusiknL0OsYv1pLIYozPzxz3MqSmZpT5x3-Pw0gsGs6WJs8LnNJkcxJXOAuPI7UhzC6yimi4L214MDLAK0UwRpsyWzj4zflHbOoDMzXjTgpZWodFYjs8/s1600-h/insulation1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPd_fAli8395BXmw2eGo2IWHqusiknL0OsYv1pLIYozPzxz3MqSmZpT5x3-Pw0gsGs6WJs8LnNJkcxJXOAuPI7UhzC6yimi4L214MDLAK0UwRpsyWzj4zflHbOoDMzXjTgpZWodFYjs8/s320/insulation1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122827975876399762" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-zxZk-u-ilv51yfD91aSGT0piPNzp_Z3P_xBIu-MI3hddIOgHFOuYqswNlMVxcRTjP4e80bSusdfKMb2zb5vA-zyf4S6Ee1A5Q_kIb-dZrE8FhWaHhFP683tARpQV-_O294CJmNG2vk/s1600-h/insulation2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-zxZk-u-ilv51yfD91aSGT0piPNzp_Z3P_xBIu-MI3hddIOgHFOuYqswNlMVxcRTjP4e80bSusdfKMb2zb5vA-zyf4S6Ee1A5Q_kIb-dZrE8FhWaHhFP683tARpQV-_O294CJmNG2vk/s320/insulation2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122827975876399778" border="0" /></a>I'm not a carpenter - but I can kinda make stuff up. I can measure some things and cut some things, so that's what I did. Matt Klopp has some more experience and he spent a little time showing me how it should kinda sorta work when he was down from Vermont. Today, I picked up where we left off, and wound up installing the majority of the insulation that I'll need. I used 1 1/2" foam board insulation. The studs are screwed right into Truck House's walls. There are big gaps that are going to be filled in with spray-foam expanding insulation. It looks like yellowish shaving cream, and it expands into the gaps. If you get some on your finger, don't touch your eye an hour later. Aside from that, it's very user friendly. If I was a little more experienced, this might not have taken so long. It took me a good number of hours to get to the point where you see me in these photos. I hope to have all of the insulating wrapped up, and have sheets of wood installed over all that very soon. The hard part is over. Now that I'm re-acclimated with the use of saws and tape measures and sharpies, the sky is the limit.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-54992976817302383302007-10-07T16:12:00.000-07:002008-11-13T01:32:59.255-08:00The door is installed!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFLl0Z4SVxcwZvaG5NLmxx186U4Kp_vQPJLLh2kMunNidxas1X9FWzJpUi35txFAzTPALVNC47StDREAWuuPMax1UJBBlVk-v1H0IrcCEgm6SreILez_HN3f6fUdlNiyJun1CMAwCiuk/s1600-h/door_install_karl.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRFLl0Z4SVxcwZvaG5NLmxx186U4Kp_vQPJLLh2kMunNidxas1X9FWzJpUi35txFAzTPALVNC47StDREAWuuPMax1UJBBlVk-v1H0IrcCEgm6SreILez_HN3f6fUdlNiyJun1CMAwCiuk/s320/door_install_karl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118742590099542530" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAboC3DIXVpsId98L-eb_iUfpiZQ6GbcAd7nWE1t4fwhZrcPl3ysRw0C4uo3aKQMdakGOpYLbiXqysHnm4LZvzWJLiSGVC0P-I12Y4PGfwB4_358HNuMqko6viQt91UQxszFpdfQ2FtM/s1600-h/door_install_chris.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLAboC3DIXVpsId98L-eb_iUfpiZQ6GbcAd7nWE1t4fwhZrcPl3ysRw0C4uo3aKQMdakGOpYLbiXqysHnm4LZvzWJLiSGVC0P-I12Y4PGfwB4_358HNuMqko6viQt91UQxszFpdfQ2FtM/s320/door_install_chris.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118742590099542546" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEtQRfUuSQXNddG5Udlk6sFCUkwvkcrZMwWXreVbpg5lBo-f0RgtPNssIJwGWsPPalsF6R02wnC34KbKCFNOPnkzlgkMdhHLbaBV2pHc-wR2Xk1dFbmnilkfQdiGlKjWNWy9oehtaaj_U/s1600-h/door_install_done.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEtQRfUuSQXNddG5Udlk6sFCUkwvkcrZMwWXreVbpg5lBo-f0RgtPNssIJwGWsPPalsF6R02wnC34KbKCFNOPnkzlgkMdhHLbaBV2pHc-wR2Xk1dFbmnilkfQdiGlKjWNWy9oehtaaj_U/s320/door_install_done.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118742594394509858" border="0" /></a>My brother in law, Karl, has tools and knows how to do stuff with them. It's a good thing too, 'cause I was pretty worried about cutting a big hole in something that I want to call a house. He claims it was fun - and that might be - but if he wasn't married to my sis, Cathy, I don't know if this job would have gotten completed so easily. <br /><br />The door is fantastic and I think it looks great. It's just what I wanted. We chopped out a big hole, fit the door into it, and screwed it in place with some caulk for waterproofness and good measure. Here are some pictures.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6413642388390816618.post-40462231572166603992007-10-02T16:22:00.000-07:002008-11-13T01:32:59.370-08:00Door update<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTdqdDZl9VyTxazp7jCIN4hHmmdOGx9ko0BKqeW5Sofi06hd9peply0vbufo5ZcRQOspUGjOeHqSPSuLbriEgUKzkDkgCbugbgrPF4KP_5mw2swUM5ifYAPHkhqO-kVES6kgO3nFTtkg/s1600-h/rvdoor.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUTdqdDZl9VyTxazp7jCIN4hHmmdOGx9ko0BKqeW5Sofi06hd9peply0vbufo5ZcRQOspUGjOeHqSPSuLbriEgUKzkDkgCbugbgrPF4KP_5mw2swUM5ifYAPHkhqO-kVES6kgO3nFTtkg/s320/rvdoor.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116885751183430066" /></a><br />This is a quick update to announce that I got an entry door for Truck House yesterday. It's designed for use on an RV, which makes it pretty appropriate for what I'm going for. The picture is from the eBay auction. With shipping, it set me back $182. It has a screen door, and installation looks straightforward. Should be as easy as tracing the inside diameter, cutting a hole with a sawzall, and screwing it in place. Caulk for waterproofness. We'll see how easy it really is.Chris Harnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16864592123187381275noreply@blogger.com0