|
|
We stopped in Michigan for a couple of weeks, resupplying from the storage area, tending to housekeeping matters and visiting friends and family. Some of you were probably there for that. All the home-time was in preparation for our longest single move yet–from Detroit to Baker, Nevada, where we landed a summer work-camp job at a small hotel and restaurant in the middle of nowhere.
For those who aren’t familiar with the concept, work-camping is a sort of cottage industry that’s sprung up around the growing number of full-time and long-term RV travelers. Many campgrounds, RV parks and other businesses need seasonal help, and many travelers are looking for ways to reduce their costs. Enter the work-camp job. Spend a few hours a week working at the campground during the summer, and you’re rewarded with a free campsite, utilities, laundry, and sometimes a small salary as well, depending on how much work you’re expected to do. Work-camp jobs aren’t just limited to RV parks, either: tending large ranches and property, helping with animal rescue, and environmental jobs are all available.
Long story short, it sounded like a good supplement to our freelancing incomes for the summer, so we took a look around and found an interesting-sounding job at the Silver Jack Inn and Lectrolux Café in Baker. We’ll be waiting tables and cleaning hotel rooms for the summer, and the job should afford us time to explore the area around Great Basin National Park as well.
First, of course, we had to get there. It’s a two thousand-mile-plus haul, the longest we’ve done in the Incorrigible at a single go so far. And on top of that, I had to do it by myself. Lexie had pressing business in Michigan that overlapped our job’s starting date, so it was up to me and Mushroom to get the RV to Nevada. Driving off with the house and Jeep and leaving our navigatrix behind was an unpleasant and unsettling feeling.
The Incorrigible churned through Chicago traffic and Illinois/Iowa monotony without complaint. Along the way, I stopped for a night in Omaha, Nebraska, to visit briefly with John Thomas, an old friend of the family. John runs a private dental practice in nearby La Vista. According to my father, who’s known him since high school, John wanted to become a dentist since he was a teenager. He purchased the practice from another dentist about fifteen years ago, and has since grown it into a well-respected, old-school dental office that’s much cozier than the big corporate dentists that are becoming more and more common in the ‘burbs.
Well, what the heck? I hadn’t been in for a cleaning in far, far longer than is healthy, so I spent some time in John’s chair getting my teeth tended to and some minor cavities repaired. It was a perfectly painless process; I spent the whole time staring at the mobile on the ceiling and was on my way with a numb face in no time. John also presented us with a bottle of homemade cranberry wine which Lexie reports is quite tasty.
Headed across the Great Plains, I encountered…windmills! (I also encountered bugs, as evidenced by the black spots on the windshield) Along I-80 in Nebraska and Wyoming, there are a growing number of wind farms, and the big white propellers turn in a stately fashion that’s almost hypnotizing as you drive past. From what we’re told, the locals hate the things because they make noise. They’re fun to watch from the freeway, though. It’s impressive to see objects that large–each of the blades is longer than a semi truck–twirling at significant speed.
As I passed through the plains, the road began to rise, and that’s where things got a little difficult. The Incorrigible’s underpowered as it is, and introducing increasingly steeper grades and higher altitudes into the mix made for slow going. The issue was compounded by unusually high winds through most of Wyoming. A ten- to twenty-mile-per-hour cross breeze has a significant effect on the handling and fuel economy of a motorhome, especially a light-for-its-cross-section rig like the Incorrigible (our rig weighs about 17,000 pounds, while some larger but not-much-bigger motorhomes are pushing 30,000). For much of the day, it was physically impossible to get the Dolphin going more than 50mph; it was getting slapped around a great deal, with gusts strong enough to push it over half a lane. This changed, of course, when we reached some of the long descents, where curvy freeways combined with a six-percent grade and a tendency to suddenly swerve to the left or right as a massive gust of wind hit. Not fun! Not fun at all! After that, I’d almost upgrade to a bus-based diesel pusher motorhome just for the security of the additional weight and power in bad weather.
On the plus side, the scenery was just gorgeous. The horizon looms when you’re in the Rocky Mountains, in a way that just isn’t possible in the flatlands of the Midwest. Why, oh why, did I have to make this part of the trip without a decent photographer?
By the time I reached Salt Lake City, I was exhausted, and I couldn’t reach my friend Jim to ask about crashing on his couch, borrowing his bathtub, and filling his driveway with motorhome. Salt Lake’s curious freeway layout (and a bunch of ill-placed construction) meant that I drove past two Wal-Marts that I could see from the freeway, but couldn’t see how to reach, and there wasn’t a truck stop or RV park in sight.
Eventually I blundered south to Sandy, UT, and staggered into a Super Target to get some dinner. After inquiring politely with the management, I was allowed to park in their lot for the night. Overnight dry-camping is available at many large retail outlets (not just “Wally World”); you just have to ask first. And the worst they can say is no, after all. I celebrated with a quick pork chop dinner on the Foreman grill and turned in early.
In the morning, refreshed, I finished the trip into Baker, a three-hour drive from SLC. My first reaction was to quote from Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: “Oh, Felicia…where the f__k are we??”
So, as we mentioned before, we have all of the comforts of the average home aboard the Incorrigible, except for a bathtub and a laundry room. Let’s talk about getting by without the latter.
Traveling full-time in an RV means that you’re likely to spend some time in laundromats. The limited closet space means that you won’t have many clothes, and there are frequently friends and family willing to lend washing machine time, but at least once a month, expect to find yourself between free-washes and needing clothes, pronto. If you’re fortunate enough to be driving one of the big rigs with an onboard washer-dryer, you’re golden, of course. Likewise, alternatives for hand-washing of clothes exist, and are environment-friendly as well.
Green as we like to be, we haven’t got a tub and washboard yet, and frankly we haven’t got the time. Spending a couple of hours at a laundromat is the best alternative, on days like this.
Some things will be ubiquitous: the checkered tile on the floor and at least two unruly children. The latter can be avoided by going late at night, if you’re fortunate enough to find a 24-hour laundry, but this raises safety concerns, depending on the area.
I generally take a walk through the place before taking my clothes out of the car, to make sure there are machines available and that it just feels right. I couldn’t say exactly what will cause me to seek a different laundromat–some nebulous combination of too many sketchy characters hanging around, too many broken machines and a lack of electrical outlets, perhaps.
Once I’ve found a place that’s to my liking, I’ll do my best to get everything into one machine. Two things make this easy for Lexie and I: first, our travelling wardrobe is small enough that we can usually get all of our clothes into one oversized washer; second, as most of our clothes are thrift-store purchases anyhow, there’s not much concern about separating lights, darks and colors. For the most part, if a piece of clothing isn’t durable enough to survive indifferent washing and a scalding-hot trip through the dryer, we don’t want it anyway. We do just fine washing everything together. This saves time and money. The Incorrigible’s linens, towels and blankets take up a second oversized machine, when necessary.
It’s tempting to leave the clothes in the wash and go run other errands, but I never leave our clothes behind. The best plan is to bring something to do; for me, the laptop and/or a book always come with. For self-employed freelancers who have elevated procrastination to an art form, being trapped in the laundromat equates to a two-hour block of enforced work time. For this reason, the rare laundromat that’s got wi-fi is both a treat and a hindrance. ‘Mats with staff in attendance are preferable, though many are unattended.
Expect to spend about $10 to wash and dry everything, depending on the size of your wardrobe. The double- and triple-load front-loading machines are the most efficient, and I’ve seen them priced anywhere from $2.75 to $5.75 per load. (High prices can be a reason to reject a laundromat, too.) As with many retail outlets, you can expect prices to be higher on the upscale side of town and close to college campuses. “Fun” laundromats with wi-fi, coffee bars and other accouterments are a nice break from the routine if you’re sick of washing clothes, but the cost will go up accordingly. Most places will provide wheeled baskets for moving clothes from washer to dryer, tables for folding clothes, and a change machine so you can break your tens and twenties. A few modern laundromats require the purchase of a “wash card” that you add money to, rather than dealing with stacks of quarters.
Don’t forget to bring your detergent, fabric softener and bleach, if you use them. Most places will have these things available on-site, but again, you’ll pay through the nose.
While I’ve never had anything stolen from a laundromat, I tend to keep a close eye on my stuff. I always make sure to sit where I can see the machine I’m using, or at least who’s coming and going in case someone tries to wheel off a basket full of my stuff. Having a few distinctive pieces of clothing in the wash–black and white striped tights or a brilliant orange shirt, for instance–can help if you’re concerned about clothing theft. Baskets and laundry supplies are also steal-able, and of course I’m never more than an arm’s length from my laptop. Life these days is all about maintaining a delicate balance between having faith in your fellow man while limiting his ability to prove you wrong.
It’s not a bad arrangement, all things considered. Considering the greater freedom we get in other aspects of life, having to deal with coin-operated laundry machines is a comfortable trade-off. Of course, an RV with a washer/dryer on board wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome, either…
We bid farewell (for now) to Austin, but we’ll be back. For the moment, though, the allure of the spaces between beckoned, and we had new places to be. The Incorrigible was unplugged, the AEV hooked up, and we pointed our expedition north for a stop in Michigan where we could resupply and put new treasures into safe storage.
We made good time for the first leg of the two-day trip from Austin to Detroit, all the way up I-30 and I-40 through Arkansas, and that left us plenty of time to dawdle once we hit the flat, green expanse that is most of Illinois. I-57 is nothing if not a painfully dull road, but conversation kept things interesting.
So did a rank of thunderstorms we drove toward but never quite caught up to. The bright sunlight behind us and the gray wall of clouds and precipitation ahead made for one of the most brilliant and complete rainbows either of us had ever seen.
Of course, when we saw the signs near Marion, IL, saying “ANTIQUE MALL,” it was easy to decide that break-time had arrived. We followed the signs, which took us off of the freeway, then onto successively smaller and smaller roads. When we finally found the Whitecotton Antique Mall, it turned out to be in a pole barn behind a farmhouse, with a little two-track leading to it.
Perhaps they did not design the place with motorhome-driving visitors in mind.
Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound, I decided (moved partly by the fact that we were already about two turns and a mile past the last place we could’ve easily turned around anyway), and steered the Incorrigible onto the two-track. It was wide enough, and so long as we didn’t high-center on one of the hills…well, I wasn’t going to think about that. We took it slow, which turned out to be a good thing because over the second rise, there was a large snapping turtle sitting in the left track, sunning itself. I brought the RV to a stop, and it looked up at us but showed no interest in moving.
So, I steered around the stubborn thing. There was barely enough room to pilot the RV and Jeep around, but we did not slide off into the woods. Once past, we went out and tried to coax it off of the road, so the next car through didn’t squash the ugly bastard. This took some doing, and then the intervention of a couple of locals. Note: Snapping turtles are turtles, but those jaws move fast.
Reptilian obstacle thus cleared, we made it into the Whitecotton Antique Mall’s gravel lot, which was slightly more than twice as long as the RV and not as wide. We went back to consult with a couple of the locals as to the best way to move the turtle out of the road, then disconnected the Jeep so we could turn the Incorrigible around (and so we weren’t blocking the entire parking lot should another customer arrive).
Remote antique stores are always the best ones, of course. We perused the booths and Lexie scored a larger-than-life ceramic phrenology head. Presumably it was once a teaching aid at a college somewhere. Now it’s ours!
There’s a hidden danger to your RV lurking at every campground. It doesn’t matter if it’s a seedy, unkempt trailer park or the best-tended motorhome resort; the chance of doing thousands of dollars of damage to the electronic equipment in your rig is there, and there’s a chance you don’t even know about the game of roulette you’re playing.
The danger is in the vital link to shore power. Computers, televisions, microwaves and other electronic appliances are susceptible to power surges and drops–and so is your recreational vehicle. Every time you plug your RV into an external power source, its electronics are at risk. An unexpected power surge or voltage drop can fry all of the electronic devices in your RV, from entertainment equipment to kitchen appliances.
You might assume that lightning strikes are the primary cause of fried circuitboards in RVs. This is not true. Even considering the affinity that thunderstorms and tornadoes seem to have for RV parks, the real threat is much more common than lightning; it’s the power pedestal that provides electricity to each RV site.
The pedestal can zap your RV in a number of ways. Power surges can provide too much power–or not enough. On hot days, when everyone in the RV park turns on the air conditioning at the same time, the voltage drops, creating a “brown-out.” Any voltage that’s above or below the UL standard of 102 to 132 volts can damage your electronics.
Poorly-maintained power outlets can also cause damage. A post’s polarity may be reversed, allowing unchecked voltage to flow through your coach before reaching the circuit breakers. This can result in overheated circuits, cooked appliances and fire. Reversed polarity poses a danger to you and your family as well; if the post’s circuit breaker trips, there will still be power flowing through the umbilical, waiting to shock an unsuspecting RVer. If a power pedestal has been miswired and the ground or neutral circuit has been left open, the RV’s chassis can build up a dangerous electrical charge that will zap the first person unfortunate enough to step out the door and create a circuit with the earth. Without testing equipment, there’s no way to be sure if a power pole is properly wired or not. “Open neutral” situations are the number-one cause of power pedestal related electrical fires, and the results can be catastrophic.
The way to avoid these hidden dangers? Surge protection. In most cases, it’s up to the new owner to protect his or her investment. Built-in whole-coach surge protectors are available, but they’re only installed on two to three percent of new RVs, according to engineer Steve Antman at the Technology Research Corporation (TRC). The Incorrigible definitely lacks a built-in surge protector, so we checked into the options. TRC offers a full range of aftermarket electrical protection for RVs under its Surge Guard brand.
To save the cost of having a surge protector hardwired, we chose a TRC Surge Guard 34730 30-amp portable unit, which attaches to the 30-amp power cord between the RV and the power pole. This $289, weather-resistant unit offers 1050 joules of power surge protection, as well as an automatic shutoff in the event of severe voltage drops or spikes. When plugged into the power pedestal, the Surge Guard can automatically detect a reversed-polarity situation, causing it to cut power and illuminate a warning light. Open-ground dangers are also indicated by a warning light. During operation, if power drops below 102 volts or jumps higher than 132 volts for more than eight seconds, power is cut. A 50-amp unit is also available.
Our unit has been easy to use, and has performed seamlessly at several hookup sites. Our unit has popped and cut power three times this season–one during a thunderstorm–so we know it’s doing its job. After cutting power, the Surge Guard automatically turns back on when it’s safe. If you’re still worried about lightning, we saw a local RV shop that had a used 30-amp Surge Guard on display. The unit had been struck by lightning, taking a catastrophic blast that melted the case and caused it to explode. The coach that it was attached to suffered no significant electrical damage.
If you’re concerned about your Surge Guard unit going missing while you’re camping, TRC offers a lock hasp to which a padlock can be affixed. That said, of the RV owners we’ve talked to, nobody has ever reported having an external surge protector stolen.
TRC’s portable and hard-wired surge protectors are available from many RV supply outlets, including Camping World.
Some random stuff that happened in Austin:
The AEV got broken into. One evening while we were downtown, thieves smashed out the passenger side window and made off with everything they could grab, namely our navigation system, iPod, some towing accessories, a box of crackers, a travel blanket and a couple of CDs. For some reason, they stole the Jeep’s registration and owner’s manual as well.
The most irritating part was the loss of the AEV for almost three weeks while the window got replaced. By means of offering a one-finger salute to the unknown thieves: y’all should’ve looked in the cargo area, because you missed a $300 LightStick towing light, a $1100 Brake Buddy auxiliary towing unit still in the box, a $100 emergency kit and a six-pack of Lone Star beer that we forgot to take inside after a grocery trip that afternoon, you larcenous shitheads. Just to show the world that it wasn’t going to get us down, we even gave that beer away to some homeless guys.
On a considerably less aggravating note, we also discovered new music. Literally–while tromping through a riverbed in the park, looking for photo shoot locations for Lexie, I stumbled across a still-wrapped CD in the mud. It turned out to be a disc by a German punk rock band called Oxymoron. We cleaned it off, gave it a listen, liked it, and added it to the music collection. How it ended up in the river in its shrink wrap is a mystery of viral marketing that will probably never be solved. Too bad the band seems to be defunct.
We also discovered thrifting joy in the form of the Goodwill Blue Hanger Store. This no-frills shop seems to be the last stop for clothing, books and linens that don’t sell at the regular Goodwill stores. It’s basically a large room full of wooden bins, and if you want to find something, you’ll have to dig for it. With clothes at a flat fee of $1.25 and books $1, however, it can be worth a few hours of rooting about. Lexie and I made several trips, coming home with (among other things) a nearly-new Coleman sleeping bag, a serviceable pair of Carhartt overalls for me, a fancy black dress for Lex, and a hardcover copy of Stephen King’s Duma Key, as well as a stack of other readables.
While in Austin, we did a bit of a fashion shoot, too. Lexie shot some promotional photos for LastWear, a Seattle-based producer of unique steampunk and martial arts-inspired clothing. The shoots were fun, and the results were, of course, pretty cool as well. As for the clothes…well, after you’ve worn a pair of hakama pants with cargo pockets, you’ll wonder why you ever wore anything else.
 We also got cupcakes from "Hey Cupcake's" roving cupcake truck. That's right, a roving cupcake truck. Awesome.
 The White Ghost Shivers perform at SXSW 2009. The White Ghost Shivers jumped immediately onto our list of Best Bands Ever. That show was, hands-down, the best live concert I’ve ever seen. Period.
The Shivers are a seven-piece band, with an accordion, upright bass, banjo, trumpet, clarinet, violin, guitar. The music is an insane collision of ragtime, jazz, swing, bluegrass, cabaret, vaudeville, burlesque, Hostess Twinkie, caffeine and Tilt-a-Whirl. It’s about twenty different kinds of infectious; I was actually jumping around and dancing uncontrollably, which was fairly amazing considering that a) I don’t like to dance to stuff I don’t know, and b) I generally stand pretty still at concerts, the better to pay attention.
 Everyone's got 'em. Just as enjoyable as the music is the stage show. It’s rare to see a band with such stage presence. The Shivers have been playing together for a long time, and it shows; they enjoy themselves on stage, and go to great lengths to make sure the audience has fun as well. Vocalist Cella Blue carries a bag of tricks, including candy, kazoos and whistles to throw to the audience. Banjo player Shorty Borgasm makes the most of his stick-on handlebar mustache and plays a mean nose flute.
Violinist Curtains and lead guitarist Smokebreak Slemenda take turns at the microphone as well, and when someone’s not singing or playing, they’re apt to be swing dancing or showing off their Charleston skills. It’s an infectious mix, and there are always people on their feet and dancing at Shivers shows. This is not music designed to be enjoyed passively. When the bar closed down at 2am after the SXSW show, the Shivers took their show out the exit door and into the street, performing their encore right there on the curb.
We liked it so much that we made sure to catch the Shivers twice more before we left town, and discovered yet another awesome thing: the stage show isn’t only magnificent, it’s not always the same. Depending on the venue, the Shivers can be raunchy or clean, lewd or child-friendly. When we caught their free show at Central Market, they self-censored the raunchier songs (oh, yes, you can combine innocuous-sounding ragtime music with graphic sexual imagery and the F-word, to great effect) and concentrated on getting the kids present to dance. A month later, down at the classic dance hall in Gruene, the Shivers arrived in overalls and checked shirts and put on an enthusiastic hoedown, complete with a “jug-off.” Check out their YouTube videos and you’ll be hard-pressed to find them sporting the same look twice.
Lexie and I are thoroughly hooked, of course. We’ve got T-shirts, stickers, CDs, the whole gamut. The Shivers say they’ll be touring this summer: if they come within a hundred miles of you, be sure to catch them. Do it.
So much for the semi-professional overview of SXSW. What really counts, at the end of the day, is what we saw, experienced, and enjoyed.
 Hurray for the Riffraff at SXSW 2009 We liked Hurray for the Riffraff, who came to SXSW from New Orleans. The band consists of a stand-up bass, a dulcimer, an accordion, a banjo and a trumpet; the music has shades of Rasputina and the Ditty Bops, and they have a cool, shy sort of stage presence. Watching one of their members play accordion and trumpet at the same time was kind of interesting, too.
I liked Tokyo-based Asakusa Jinta, though Lexie was somewhat less than impressed. This eclectic seven-piece band is an unlikely (and on the surface, ill-advised) collision of punk rock and marching band. Osho, the lead singer, is mesmerizing as he slaps away at his custom-made, metal-framework stand up bass, and the band’s high-energy set has an infectious exuberance that make it clear why the group calls itself an “Asianica Hard March” band. At SXSW they performed at the relatively small Elysium, but when they’ve got more room they will reportedly march right into the audience during their show.
 Natccu at SXSW 2009. This image is horribly blown out because Emmy took it instead of Lexie. While we were resting between sets at one of the venues, a Japanese woman in rockstar sunglasses came up, handed us a flyer and shyly asked, “My name is Natccu. Will you please come to my show tomorrow?” She was so charmingly adorable that I said I would, and I wasn’t disappointed. Natccu’s sound is a fusion of Shonen Knife and The Faint, if you can imagine that. She sings in English and Japanese (though she sounds better in her native tongue), and partway through her performance I realized that she was reading her between-song patter from a piece of paper on the floor at her feet. She speaks English, but apparently wanted to be sure she got her words right. “Texas Austin is very big. And very hot,” she said, then looked at her feet. “It makes me want to drink beer. But there is no beer here. So…” She looked at her feet again, then smiled and bent down and picked up her cheat-sheet. “So let’s drink water instead!” And with a “kampai!” she did just that. Super-cute.
 Amanda Palmer at SXSW 2009 We were very happy to catch the solo performance by Amanda Palmer, of the Dresden Dolls. “Showmanship” and “stage presence” are the operative words. Palmer performed alone, with just an electric piano. Before she started, however, she walked to the front of the stage and belted out an a capella, un-microphoned, goosebump-raising rendition of “The Wind that Shakes the Barley.” This was an excellent way to get our attention. The show was very casual; the venue was actually a local church that had been commandeered by SXSW, and Palmer spent as much time talking to the audience and telling stories about her songs as she did performing. Most amusing was that she had prepared a noisy set based on her past (loud bar with lots of patrons not paying attention) experience at SXSW, only to find herself slotted in at the church. She said she felt kind of silly, playing loud, angry songs while everyone sat quietly in the pews. This didn’t stop her, of course, but she did a lot of set changeover to play quieter stuff. She also performed a cute duet with Margaret Cho who popped up as a surprise supporting performer.
In the end, though, we have to say that the White Ghost Shivers won SXSW. Oh, I know what you’re thinking: “But SXSW isn’t a competition!” Doesn’t matter. They still won. Who, what, why are the White Ghost Shivers? Stay tuned.
 Local Austin industrial band Tungsten Coil peforms at SXSW 2009 You don’t have to be a music snob to appreciate and enjoy the city-wide madness that is Austin’s annual South by Southwest (SXSW) music festival (though it helps if you live outside the city). Revered and reviled by locals and tourists alike, SXSW brings over two thousand performers to the city for a four-day orgy of fresh faces and new talent in mid-March. Though the festival started out with countless local and unsigned acts, these days a large number of well-known performers turn up as well. The shows are spread between over seventy venues, with dozens of concerts happening simultaneously all over the city. Various venues are set up to highlight particular segments of the musical landscape, with nights devoted to Japanese, Spanish and hip-hop bands, among other themed nights. As if that wasn’t enough to keep you occupied, the SXSW Music Festival takes place in conjunction with the SXSW Film Festival and the SXSW Interactive Festival, which is aimed at “digital creatives” and “visionary technological entrepreneurs” and highlights cutting edge online and other technologies. The level of activity in the city during SXSW verges on the ridiculous; the streets are alive with music, food, alcohol, flash mobs and free hugs.
This year’s SXSW music festival included something for just about every music taste, from the modern ragtime of the White Ghost Shivers to a special appearance by heavy metal legend Metallica. Crowded venues and shifting schedules mean that SXSW can be difficult to navigate at times, and it’s best to get a schedule and determine who you want to see so you can plan ahead. Big-name acts will play relatively small venues, resulting in over-capacity shows, and the sets are short and lean. Think of SXSW as a musical sampler buffet, rather than a full meal. We took a relaxed pace and still managed to see no fewer than twelve bands in our four days attending the shows.
 Amanda Palmer organized a flash-mob pillow fight on Sixth Street, and Lexie was there! Getting in to hobnob with the elite and see the performers is a complicated process. An elaborate system of wristbands and badges provides access to various parts of the festival and is recommended, as attempting to pick and choose by paying the cover charges for only the bands you want to see tends to put you at the back of a long line. Wristbands allow access to as many events as you can stomach, and cost $165 to $180. SXSW badges offer a wider range of admission, as well as a higher spot in the pecking order (which can mean the difference between getting into a crowded venue and being stuck outside), and are available with varying levels of access from $300 to $1145 (all prices are for the 2009 event. For 2010 details, check out http://www.sxsw.com).
 We have no idea what this girl was doing, but she looked cool doing it. If you want to forego the expensive badges and wristbands and avoid fighting the crowds, SXSW is also rife with free stuff. Simply walking the streets of downtown Austin during the festival, you’ll be able to hear many of the performers as the music spills out of Sixth Street’s many bars and clubs. Street performers abound, and more than a few of the headlining bands are all too happy to show up for impromptu sidewalk performances as well. SXSW provides an opportunity for up-and-coming bands to connect with new fans and music industry insiders alike.
 Japanese glam-rockers Quaff filming a music video on Sixth Street. A few insiders’ tips: Parking, which is difficult in downtown Austin at the best of times, will be virtually non-existent during SXSW. The meters don’t need to be paid after 5:30pm, but finding a street-parking spot becomes nigh-impossible much earlier than that, even if you’re willing to walk twenty blocks. Street-parked cars are also susceptible to break-ins; Austin is a hip town, but it’s also still a big city with its share of miscreants, so be sure to hide your valuables. Surface lots and garages are open, with rates at twice what they’ll cost on a normal night. Parking outside of downtown is possible, as Austin’s Capital Metro buses, independent taxis and human-powered pedicabs compete for riders and space on the crowded streets. And if the stress of SXSW is too much for you, there are always the free hugs.
The Elysium in Austin has stuck around long enough to become a landmark. On the outskirts of the rapidly-changing Sixth Street bar scene, clubs come and go, but the Elysium is pushing ten years of age. Formerly known as the Atomic Café, Elysium’s smack in the middle of fratboy heaven, an unlikely location for a dedicated goth-industrial haven, but it exists. On Saturday nights you’ll have to walk through crowds of people who’ll look at you funny to reach the weekly night (named “Haven”), but once inside, it’s a happy place.
If it weren’t for the noisy music and clever faux-stone painted walls, you might mistake the place for a typical honky-tonk bar: you’ve got a dance floor and a stage at one side, some tables and circular velvet couches in the center, and the bar and some red- covered pool tables at the other end, and you’re constantly going up or down steps: two down onto the dance floor, or one up to the bar. There’s an outdoor patio as well, for people-watching. Look closer, though, and you’ll notice the Bauhaus and concert posters on the walls, and random sigils and art that decorate the walls. Austin does have a goth scene, and this is the place most of them call home. It’s also where the noisy folks like Funker Vogt and Voltaire come to play, when they’re in town.
Arrive early and you’ll think that there aren’t many people in the aforementioned scene, but by midnight the Elysium’s too crowded to throw an elbow, on most Saturday nights. The dance floor is old-school wood and a bit smaller than average, because the club’s set up for live music, the bread and butter of Austin’s club scene. On Haven nights, the stage is open for showing off if you like. Be careful, though–the surface is a little bit uneven.
Like the Church, Elysium’s staff and patrons are friendly, especially if you’re dressed to the nines and beyond. Most any form of dress is acceptable, however.
The sound system is also biased toward live music, so the sound is better at one end of the dance floor than the other. There’s the requisite smoke machine, of course. A good Haven night will lean heavily toward older synthpop and very new stompy stuff: VNV Nation, And One, Faderhead, ohGr, Ladytron and Combichrist. Expect a bit of Depeche Mode and Ladytron to pop also, as well as the odd Rammstein throwback. Resident DJs Void and The Gothfather spin a good mix that’s fairly constant throughout the night, and since they always play the original mix of “Le Disko” by Shiny Toy Guns, never bothering with any of the many nasty remixes, they get a thumbs-up from me.
We find ourselves, unexpectedly, members of a secret society, of sorts. Okay, it’s not all that secret, but it’s fun to imagine that it is. When we decided to take to the road full-time in our big old Dolphin, we knew that we were younger than the average RV travelers, and the raised eyebrows that we encountered at many parks were expected.
After a few months on the road, though, we began to wonder if there were ANY other fulltimers who weren’t retirees. It’s not that we can’t get along with our neighbors at the campgrounds, of course. We’re generally quiet and keep to ourselves, and keep our campsite clean. And we’re friendly, though perhaps a bit funny-looking and prone to staying up far, far later than most campers do. We put our clothesline out like anybody else…it’s just that there are fishnet skirts on it.
Anyway, those feelings of isolation were soothed when we came across the NuRVers website. Populated mainly by pre-retirement age RVers, many of whom are also fulltimers, we suddenly found ourselves among like-minded individuals. When we learned that the group’s annual “Days of the Nu” gathering was taking place a scant forty miles from our hookup near Bastrop, we required no arm-twisting to unhook and head down.
The gathering was small, with five couples descending upon the Lazy L&L Campground for a weekend of social drinking, get-to-know-you games, RV maintenance and shared meals. It was like a holiday, and refreshing to see a diverse crowd that instantly clicked on multiple levels. The NuRVers (ourselves included, now) come from a wide range of backgrounds, but we have a lot in common as well.
Rather than containing the usual party games and retiree-oriented activities, the Days of the Nu focused on a family-like atmosphere. Morning and evening meals were shared, potluck affairs, with each household bringing a dish to contribute and XM satellite radio providing a soundtrack. Recipes were shared, and margaritas were made. Impromptu RV care and knitting seminars were held, and on the third day we had a “swap meet,” to which everyone was encouraged to bring accumulated unneccessaries for possible trade or sale to other NuRVers, using the “one man’s trash” theory. We also toured one another’s coaches, admiring the little touches that turn an RV or trailer from a rolling assortment of appliances and furniture into a true home.
We were reluctant to leave on Sunday; it felt like leaving a vacation and going back to “real life.” Though, looking around our surroundings, “real life” ain’t too bad, either.
If you’re interested in the NuRVers, there’s a link to the site on our main page. Feel like you don’t fit in with the other RV people? Join usss!
Page 4 of 10« First...«23456»...Last »
|
|
Recent Comments