You might get something out of this site if:

You think an awesome experience is something everyone else always has
You think adventure is looking at the ladies dainties in the Sears Catalog :)
You've got more cousins than Carters' got little pills
You find people are always telling you that you're definitely the most interesting person they've ever met
You don't like high stress jobs. Like when your husband tells you that you've got to the mow the lawn TWICE this year.

If the idea of that kind of life gets you down
Just wait until you discover what living life on the road is really like.


"Always follow own life plan, otherwise GPS lead you to dead end!"
--The Great Kiva

There are lots of buttons and links here, some might go somewhere, most probably don't. Even I, smart as I am :) ain't got'em all figured out yet. But like some feller said, "It ain't the destination, it's how many times you got to repair the brakes during the journey, otherwise you might not be able to stop when you get to where you didn't know you were going."

Don't worry about what this website costs. You get the RV Dreamers bug you'll learn right quick you'll need to keep every penny you got. :) But if your a real smart feller and come up with a way of gettin' people to send you money so you can live it up, keep it to yourself. Cause if someone else does it, it might chip away at your good fortune.

Oh, one last thing, if you just got to support something, Support Our Troops, they're keeping our country safe so we can live this life.

This website is dedicated to my grandpap who always said, "Boy, you got a knack for doing the dumbest things." And how could I forget my city feller cousin (the one whose name I never learned) and his cute wife :):), who gave Nilda and me the RV Dreamers bug when they told us about the Great Kiva on the day they got lost.

Saturday, March 19, 2011

More About Findin’ Parts

Afore I continue with this true life tail of the fulltiming lifestye, I needs to do one of the ligature type cuts that authors use. Mr. Busnutty is just to long to keep a usin' so I.M. shortenin' his name down somewhat in this post, though you probably won't even notice I dun it.

I wasn’t sure who was going to bust a gut first, Butty or me, but at last he cut loose with the biggest belly laugh I’d heard in a coons age, and it was lookin’ like my day was goin’ from bad to worse. Then he whacks me on the back with one of his big old hands, and says, “Boy, you got the bus to beat all buses.”

I took that as a good sign, and waited for more. He was a licking his lips and rubbin’ his hands together like he was getting ready to chaw down on some of Ma’s elderberry pie, when he adds, “ It’s got more variety in its parts than Mr. Heinz had when he come up with that 57 varieties number of his. Well now, that didn’t sound all that bad, especially since he’d stopped laughing, so I just kept a doing what I was a doin’ which was nothin’.

He then commenced to give me a run down on the pedigree of Ol’ 5th Wheel, of which there was so much, he lost me after the second pause. In a nutshell, we were the proud owners of the most cobbled together bus in the history of mankind. Whether it was that cousin of Nilda’s we got it from or somebody else, everything worth anything had be takin’ off that thing, and replaced with the most broken down, worthless piece of crap that would do something similar to what the original piece was a doing before it was took off.

The heck with the air cleaner and the brake lines being different from the original, it didn’t even have the same engine or transmission that it should. Then he really laid it to me. Nye on half them parts wasn’t even American, they was from all over the world, with the brakes being from South America of all places.

Butty was a joking that was probably because them South American brakes had failed so many times goin’ down those mountain roads they got, they probably traded them in on something from up here that would actually work. Now I was beginnin’ to see why me and Nilda was always broke down.

All this was interesting, but it wasn’t getting’ us back on the road to our next breakdown, or to put it as I’m learning to put some humor into this writin’ business, on the road to our next brakedown. Sheesh. That was bad, even for a feller like me that’s such an accompliced wrighter.

I never did figure out if Butty just felt sorry for me, or whether he wanted the challenge to end all challenges, but ever since then whenever we breakdown, all I got to do is pick up the phone, give him a call and explain what busted, or fell off this time. Usually within a day he calls back and tells me what the part is, where one is, and what it will cost me.

Take this last problem for example. Don’t matter how many times we try to fix them brakes, they are still gonna break. This last time it was some kind of reverse rear actuator thing that fell off according to Butty. Only it ain’t one of those easy to replace, it’ll be there in a few days, parts.

Oh no, this is some special South American part that hain’t been made in over half a century, meaning they is few and far between. So I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t hear from Butty for several days, and when he did call, it weren’t with good news. Seems this actuator thingy is about as scarce as the hair on Grandpa Tomlinson’s head after he stuck his head into the gas oven so he could see better to lite it.

We’re going to be here for a while, even though he didn’t have no trouble locating that part somewhere in Peru of all places. It’s only a couple of days to ship it here by air, the problem is that they say the mountain climber feller is saying it will take him nigh on 3 days to climb down in that ravine where the bus with this part is a laying, and then another five or six to haul it back out. And now that you can see how me and Nilda’s day went, just exactly how did your day go, and are you sure that you want to take up this mobile, mobile home full time life?

Friday, March 18, 2011

Findin’ Parts

Anybody that knows me, of which by now there is a couple more than before I started writin’ this here blog thing, knows that our life on the road has been one of fits and starts. There being far more fits than starts. That’s “fits”, as in, I know that part that fell off Ol' 5th wheel “ fits” back on somewhere, but exactly where it goes, and what it’s supposed to do has me baffled. Sheesh.

But back to where I was a headin’ before I got off track, which was the education I’ve got into finding parts for our mobile, mobile home, one of which is trying to describe Ol’ 5th Wheel to somebody. Somewheres back in its earlier days it was a bus, but now today we call it our home. Still whenever I’m on the phone or in a vehicle salvage yard, rememberin' that we used too call a junkyard, a junkyard, but today there bein' some sort of stigmata or something like that attached to calling it what it were, so I deal with salvage yards now.

Anyways, that cussed piece of junk we refer to as our mobile, mobile home apparently has a more convoluted pedigree than any of old Mr. Jeeters hunting hounds had. One fellar told me its a GMC, another said it’s a Yellow, and still another called it a Flxible, though I think he wrote that down wrong, and it should have been Fixable, which in a way suits it better than either of them first to names.

Then I found some parts feller that apparently knowed what it is through the internet. Or tellin' it more truthfully, I should say that my uncle Horace, who runs the Gulch Automobile and Horseshoe Pitchin’ Association office, learned through some of his contacts in the Associations home office which is in Peewee Valley, that there was a fellar named BusNutty that should be able to help me out of my continuous difficulties with findin’ parts, when they fell off somewheres that I couldn’t walk back and find them laying alongside the road.

Now it just so happened that Mr. BusNutty was a travelin’ the same direction we were back a few years ago, and as luck would have it, we broke down in the same RV park he was a stayin’ in. I remember those eyes of his lighting up as he gazed upon Ol’ 5th Wheel, kind of like when a feller first looks at a girl and suddenly realizes she’s got more to her than just a name that makes her a female.

So I give Mr. Busnutty the grand tour, inside, outside, topside and bottomside, all the while with him constantly pullin’ on his beard until I thought he was gonna make his-self look like a plucked chicken. He was also a sounding more like a stuck record than somebody that was supposed to the number one hexpert on these here buses, saying over and and over again, “Well, I never, well I never” until I was wondering if he’d ever seen a real RV, or if his bus learnin’ all came from books.

When we was a done with the lookin, he just stands there, a starin’ off into the sky, like he was trying to get some kind of inspiration from the clouds or something. I was about to go back to walking along the ditch on the road out of this here town in hopes of findin’ whatever had fallen off this time, when he turns to me and gets this cat swallered the canary grin on his face. I’m a thinkin’ either the answer to all my problems is about to come out, or this fellar is gonna bust a gut laughin’ at my stoopidity for drivin' this piece of junk.

“Well,’ he starts out, which relieved me a mite, but still had me on edge, “I’m not sure how to say this, but,” and by now I’m really on pins and needles, cause I don’t have a clue which way he’s gonna go. Then he just stops and sucks in the biggest breath I ever did see a body take, well, except for the one Tammy Joe Jamison sucked in just before she commenced a bawling away when the Judge give me my certified certificate that day in Simpsonville.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Beginning Our New Life – Words of the Great Kiva

On the way back to the Gulch, the words of the Great Jovika they/he/she/it Kiva, just kept rattlin’ around in our heads. Much of the time Nilda had her head buried in them books we bought, while I commenced to use mineown head for planning. Other than getting lost a couple of times, and havin’ to spend one more night on the road than we had figured, it was one interesting drive, especially with Nilda popping out one Great Kiva’s saying after another.

“Not need money to be RV’er, warm dry place with wheels and room to keep stuff, enough.”

“With RV size not matter till bridge to low.”

“Diesel RV have fewer moving parts, so not breakdown often, easy to repair when do.”

It’s obvious that the Great Kiva never owned anything close to Ol’ 5th Wheel, or he/she/it/they wouldn’t be saying that. I’ve got to agree that having the engine in the rear, like Ol’ 5th Wheel does, makes it a lot quieter. Course that probably has more to do with Ol 5th Wheel breakin’ down all the time and not running at all than how quiet it is when it does run.

“To make money on road all by self, hard. Need many people to chip in, then easy.”

“Water not taste good, need NSF Standard 43 Certified Class I solid block carbon filter.”

Up to this time I’d been following along pretty good, mostly agreeing with all them sayings with a exception here and there. But this one really threw me cause I didn’t have a clue as to what Nilda was meanin' by them words of the they/he/she/it. I asked her to elaborate (one of those big words I’ve picked up since I started writing this blog) and she comes out with this. “It’s an elaborate purification system that keeps substances, dead and alive, eliminated from the drinking water.” I kid you not, that’s what she was a readin’ to me. So, as not to appear too stupid, I just asked her to go on to the next sayin’.

“Is obviously dumb to not protect self from inconsiderate idiot parked next door.”

That one also perplexed (another big word) me for a minute, till I figured out that it was they/he/she/it’s own way of saying that not everyone is perfect, so no matter how dumb your neighbor might be today, the one tomorrow might be even dumber.

“Big box laundry soap good for house, not fit in RV.”

“Woman not get good cut in Beauty Parlor, for good haircut find Hair Styling Salon.”

That one got Nilda to laughing so hard she couldn’t read no more for a while. Between gasps she was a sayin’ it must a been the he part and not the she/it part that wrote that, cause there is no better place on earth to learn everything about a town than with the ladies at the beauty parlor. As for bad cuts, Nilda says that only high faluting, stuckup women go to hair styling salons. If you go to the beauty parlor, you get a cut and style that looks just like the one all the local womenfolk have. Plus when you’re always looking for parts, or a place to stay cheap while Ol’ 5th Wheel is getting repaired, like we is always doin’, it’s better to look like a local than some fancy city fellar or gal.

“Raise curb side for better dump, then pull forward to rinse”

“Most at campground either come or go your direction. One or two not know whether coming or going.”

"Always follow own life plan, otherwise GPS lead you to dead end!"

And with that, we drove back up onto the Gulch.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Understanding the Great Kiva

As we was a sittin’ there like all the rest of the people, a wondering when the Great Kiva was a gonna start sharing he/she/it/they's wisdom with us, when Nilda gives me a more than just hard nudge, and whispers loud enough for a deaf man to hear, “Look at this.” She was a waving this paper in front of me, one of many that were a sitting on the chair when we sat down. I hadn’t paid them no nevermind, figuring they was just there to keep the dust off the seats that seemed to be in the air everywhere in this place.

Nilda is a pointing specicifically at one of them many pieces of paper, and saying something about it not being the Jehovah Kiva, but the Jovika Kiva. Now I might have that mixed up just a might because there were so many papers there that we ended losing about half of them before we got back to the Gulch, one of which had what Nilda was showin’ me at the time. Apparently this Jovika Kiva, two in one thing was mighty important because that paper just went on and on about all he/she/it/they had done. Gawd, I wished I wouldn’t have lost that paper so I would know what to call he/she/it/they or whatever. That’s why we decided that if having called it the Great Kiva before we set out to find it was good enough then, it was good enough now, even if it were really a Jovika Kiva.

All of a sudden like, the white topped Kiva half starts a talking, and just as he’s a getting warmed up, and we’s a hanging on his every word, he pauses to take a deep breath and that red topped Kiva half takes up right where he left off and afore we know’d it he/she/it/they is going on just like the white topped half Kiva never said a thing. Now, it weren’t a confusin’ thing, but it was all I could do not to bust out laughin’ once or twice at how all them white tops in the audience was a flopping back and forth from one side of the room to the other trying to watch which Kiva half was a speakin’ at the moment.

All this time Nilda is takin’ notes so that we’d be able to study up on what was going on, which was the dangdest thing. Like when the Great Kiva got to talkin’ about taking a computer in a mobile, mobile home. Kiva, the he half, asked, “Can I take a Computer in my mobile, mobile home? And as all them white heads swivel over to the red topped Kiva to hear the answer, the white topped Kiva starts talking about peripherals, modems, connectors, desks and fastening it in with a seatbelt. You think you’re confused reading about it here, you should have seen the looks on all them people a sittin’ there a listenin’ to the he/she/it/they Great Kiva.

Then just when it didn’t seem it could get any less interesting, the white half Kiva pauses and the red half Kiva jumps right in with desktops, laptops, folding tops, air ride hard drives and crashes. I’m here to tell you, Nilda and me didn’t have a clue as to what that were all about, but there sure did seem to be a lot of heads a noddin’ up and down in the audience in agreement with the he/she/it/they Kiva’s words.
I hadn’t but a second’s pause to recollect my thoughts after getting’ distracted by them bouncing heads, when the white he half Kiva is back again, not talking about computers, but about how this mobile, mobile home thing is an adventure. Heck it weren’t just the mobile, mobile home thing that was an adventure, it was an adventure just learnin’ about the mobile, mobile home life, and that don't include tryin' to foller that he/she/it thing.

Alrighty then, just when Nilda and me thought the Great Kiva was finished, the red half Kiva starts going on, close as I can recollect, about what you could experience with this computer thing, like fuel stops, marshmellows and singing songs. Where in the world that last part came from, I had no idea, but deciding they was a finished, I started a clappin’, which must have been some kind of secret mobile, mobile home signal we didn’t know about, cause immediately all them heads that was a nodding up and down in the audience, snapped up like they had a rubber band attached.

As a memento, we bought a book that Jovika Kiva had writ about what they/he/she/it was a talkin’ about, hoping that studying up on it would help us as we started our soon to be, new mobile, mobile home life. To this day it is still one of our prized possessions, what with the words the red topped Kiva half wrote on one of the front pages, “To I.M. and Nilda – Enjoy the journey. – Jovika Kiva.” It just don’t get no better than that.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

More on Campground Etiquette

The other day I was writin' what I have discovered is called “a literary review of a published article”. Now as best I can understand, that means some feller writ something and somehow manged get it out so’s regular folks could read it, mistakes and all. Then some right smart feller like me comes long and deconstructs that other fellers article, afore puttin’ it back to together such that it makes sense, if you foller me. I got to thinkin’ bout a couple more things that feller writ, so here’s the rest of the story reconstipated the way it shoulda been in the first place.

Another thing that feller that writ that article was a sayin’ were that jacks should never be down when you’re a stayin’ at wallmart. If that’s so then how in gawd’s name are we supposed to change them tires that keep a going flat. Maybe some people can aford to buy tires that’s only 5 or 6 years old, but anyone blessed with the likes of Ol’ 5th Wheel and brakes that break more than they brake would understand that some of us drive F.O.R.D.s, as some vehicles is referred to, whether thay got any parts made by old Henry or not.

Best I can recall, that feller also was a pointing out that wallmart camping was free. That was when I knowed fer sure that it were a fictional story, or he were one of them writer fellers that ain’t never been to where he were a writing about. I never knowed a single person, let a lone a married one, ever to spend a night in wallmart that he didn’t spend more money than he would'a if'n he'd a stayed even in one of them uppity resort parks that nobody ever claims to have stayed at. But always knows somebody which payed as much as $40 a night to stay in one of them over priced places.

Lookin’ at my notes, he also said something about just a wantin’ to get a few hours of sleep, as to why you should stay there. Maybe he drives one of them semi type trucks a haulin insulation, and when the sun goes down, he bunks out in the middle of all that insulation in a little hole. But fer us regular folks getting’ even a few minutes sleep afore getting’ woke up by a truck pullin’ in, means your one real lucky feller. Besides, if you ain’t never had a couple of cattle trucks pull up and park on either side of you at 2 o’clock in the morning in a wallmart parking lot on a night when it’s a hundred degrees outside, you don’t travel in the places me and Nilda do. Get a nights sleep. Sheesh. It’s a wonder you don’t get, deafened from the cows a bawling all night, let alone afixyated from whats billowering out of them trailers.

I’d like to keep a commenterying on what that feller wrote, but when I was a trying to get that axle shoved back into the right place on Ol’ 5th Wheel the other day, a great big blob of grease fell off, and sort of obliverated the rest of my notes. Hence, if your lucky you might just stumble on that article the way I did, which when taken all together, it weren’t not bad writin, though it weren’t as good as mine either. But then everybodies got to start someplace, it's just most aren't so lucky to be as far down the writin' road to begin with as I was. I keep a thinkin’ the more just wanderin’ around I do on this here blog post, the more likely that websight is to come to me, but I guess it ain’t a gonna happen. So I’ll leave it without bein’ able to be an acknowledging to who I were debited to for the idea of these writin’s.

Monday, March 14, 2011

In the Presence of the Great Kiva

As we was a sittin’ there a waitin’ on the Great Kiva to enter, we proceeded to lay eyes on just who all the people was that were there to learn the wisdom of the Great Kiva like we was. We’d noticed the light were a little low when we entered the room, makin’ findin’ a seat a bit more of a chore that it should have been. Then while we was a lookin’ around the room we discovered why it were so dark in there.

There was so much white hair a sticking up in that room, that if those lights would have been at full brightness, everyone there would have been suffering from snow blindness. Why even with the lights down, some of them must have been a sufferin’, since more that a few of them was wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses we ever did see, and the sun weren’t even out, on account that we was inside this somewhat little Great Kiva place.

We didn’t really know what the Great Kiva looked like, though we had learned enough to know that it was a two in one person. And when it finally did walk in, we didn’t rightly know what to think. It was sure enough a two, but the one was a little hard to grab a hold of. There was this white topped one, and there was this red topped one, both of which proceeded go a sittin’ on stools, and both which were just a smilin’ away like the canary that got out of the coal mine without keeling over. :)

I kept a lookin’ at the white top half, Great Kiva, but hard as I tried, all I could see was a fellar that didn’t look no different than all those other old white topped fellers a sittin’ in the seats around us. Maybe it was like I’d read about them Kiva ceremonies out west, the ones where the Kiva man would sometimes wear a mask to show he was one with whatever group of people he was with at the time.

Then I shifted over to the red top half Great Kiva, and it or her or whatever that apparition was called, looked a lot like all the other ladies in the room, what with her red hair all styled near perfect as possible, and her clothes just as fancy as could be. They was both a perched there, sort of like two chicken hawks out on a snag, just a waiting for something unsuspecting to fly or crawl past them. :)

Now just to put this all into proper perspective, the Great Kiva was supposed to be a talkin’ about choosing an RV, which we had come to understand was what those mobile, mobile homes my city fellar cousin and his cute wife :):) had told Nilda and me about, was really supposed to be called. There was also something about extensive RV living, or some such thing, which were something else the Kiva thing was goin' to be a learnin' everybody about. It sure looked like Nilda and me had our work cut out, absorbing all the Great Kiva had to say when we didn’t have a clue as to what any of what they was a gonna talk about was in the first place.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Finding the Great Kiva

Any of you who has been in the presence of the Great Kiva, aka, Jovika Kiva will know what I is a talkin' about in this here serous of four posts. If you ain't never see'd Jovika Kiva, you will know when you is in Jovika's presence, because I suspect Jovika Kiva would get a laugh a reeding these posts too. I told you early on that I was a prone to jump around some in these posts, and that's what's happening here. This here post takes you back to our early days of our mobile, mobile home life, before we was actually a livin' it, and even before we knowed what all it were and all it weren't. So ifn' ya haven't been a readin' my wrightin's from the get go, ya might be lost for a few sentences, but with my readers being so smart, you'll catch on write quick.

While it was from my city fellar cousin and his cute wife :):) that Nilda and me first heard of this mobile, mobile home full time RV life we now live, it was from the Great Kiva that we learned what to do and how to do it. All we knew was that the Great Kiva was going to be at some dome in Louisville where he would be surrounded by hordes of mobile, mobile homes and throngs of his followers.

Discovering the where and when, along with the how took us some time. We asked around the Gulch, but nobody had ever heard of such a person or place thing as the Great Kiva. And since my journey to Simpsonville, which resulted in my degree and the opportunity to work without having to work, was as far as anyone else from the Gulch had ever traveled, Nilda and me was running into a dead end.

Then we got lucky. It turned that Sammy Roe Jamison, Tammy Jo Jamison’s only brother that turned out to be slightly better than a no account, (was I ever glad I didn’t get hitched to her and join up with that bunch of ridge straddlers), had dated a girl whose brother moved to Louisville. Well not exactly Louisville, and not exactly moved, but he had served a term in the Jefferson County Jail for something Tammy Jo swore he didn’t do, and while there he had worked on the Sheriffs detail on the grounds of the Great Kiva

With that information, Nilda was able to track down where the Great Kiva place was and when the Great Kiva person wouldn’t be there. You think it is confusing now, you ought to have been us a looking when we didn’t know what we was lookin’ for. Now what was really confusing was when we found out the Great Kiva place actually wasn’t anywhere near Louisville, and that it didn’t look like any pictures of Kivas we had been studying in the encyclopedias at the local library

We were on a quest, and by doing a little extra midnight cookin’ of Pa’s books, we soon had enough money to travel to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania where the Great mobile, mobile home meeting was to be held. We thought this Great Kiva place was all about the Great Kiva person, but when we got there, we was completely overwhelmed by what was going on. We never did figure out who was heading this thing up, or where it was being held. Mostly because there was so many important people a talking one after the other, and so many Kivas great and small, where it was all going on, that we was more than confused

Why you couldn’t hardly go two feet without encountering some spit shined mobile, mobile home, along with some fellar that had the whitest teeth and widest smile we ever did see. All these fellars was saying that we should step inside and take a look, though we soon learned that if we did, the next thing was that they had the deal of all deals on whatever it was we was lookin’ at, and that was only for today, at this minute. Why some of them fellars was claiming that their prices was so low that what they were sellin’ was almost free.

Nilda was gettin’ so big eyed at all these additional inducements, as those fellars were callin’ them, that I was afraid she was gonna swoon. Fortunately just as she was about to hyper-ventilate, (another of Pa’s big words), we see a sign announcing the Great Kiva was going to be speaking in this very same building after lunch. That was enough to get Nilda calmed back down, and after a lunch of tater-tots, and 10 little plastic bags apiece of relish, mustard and ketchup, gotta stretch them dollars, we hurried off to where the Great Kiva was to speak.

We was appalled when he walked in and found out that all the seats up front were already taken. Obviously we weren’t the only ones interested in learning from the great giver of knowledge. We looked around, and Nilda spotted two seats at the end of the third row back, so we headed that way and squeezed in to await the entrance of the Great Kiva person, into what was something less than a Great Kiva place