There's only two pics to click today, if you need the exercise you can click them more than once.
This old house trailer was driving down the road near me and had to heave to off the side of the road when it looked like it was going to break in half. It's been sitting there for three days now. Yesterday a couple guys came and took the plywood off the roof. Don't know why. The police have put a couple of move this piece of junk stickers on it. But thar she sits. Waiting for high tide to take her out to sea.
So jumping right back into what I was saying yesterday about a smaller camper. Taking into consideration I have no debts now with no desire to ever be in debt again. And I'll probably never have enough cash to buy a new hundred thousand dollar fancy van camper. And having a fear born from years of personal experience buying used vehicles, it seems like that limits my choices of downsizing to a smaller less worrisome RV.
The one that keeps popping into my head the most often is a slide-in truck camper. But as is the case with everything in this world, it's got good points and bad points. And to be a happy camper the best you can do is find something that has the most good points, and bad points that you can live with.
So here are some bad points about a slide-in truck camper. Keeping in mind a bad point for me maybe a good point for anyone else, and vice versa. So the things I'm going to talk about are bad points that apply only to me.
This may be a silly thing, but it's real. A slide-in truck camper is very near the bottom of camping status. Considering a tent has the least amount of status when it comes to camping, and a multimillion-dollar bus would be at the top of the list. A slide-in truck camper is above the tent but not by a whole lot.
Now there's nothing wrong with a tent, it's the way me and most other folks first started camping, and when I see a young family camping I fully expect to see them in a tent. But as far as status and coolness go it's pretty far down the list.
But the status of a slide-in truck camper is not what bothers me, it's more other people's perception. I say this based on my personal experience of camping in a slide-in pop-up camper and having some campgrounds, not many, but a few, refuse to let me stay when they found out what I was camping in. Now that's not a huge problem for me because I stay in so few campgrounds nowadays, but it is something to consider.
Another problem that will grow the more geezerly I become is getting into and out of a slide-in truck camper. I don't know if anyone has noticed or not but it takes a lot of steps to get into a truck camper. I'm able to get into my little Bronco camper... Now... But I can see how it might be a problem in the future.
Getting out is not a problem, just make a wrong step and in the blink of an eye your face down on the pavement, so I can always get out. But watching old Joe on YouTube yesterday trying to get up the stairs into Air Force One showed me and everyone else in the world that stairs and old geezers don't mix.
I felt kind of sorry for him, but he appeared to be trying to show off by running up the stairs to show everyone he's not a geezer, but all he did was prove he is.
One thing that's always bothered me about the slide-in truck campers is the cost. It bugs me to know that your average truck camper that's built to live in, cost as much or more than my 30 foot Arctic Fox fifth wheel even though the Arctic Fox has everything in it that a truck camper has, plus a large heavy-duty steel frame, axles and tires.
I haven't mentioned the small size of a slide-in truck camper as a problem, because they're pretty much the same size as a van and lots of people live in a van. And I've stayed in a slide-in truck camper for a month at a time and didn't find it to be a problem. But I do understand that living in something full-time is different than just camping no matter how long you camp in it.
Well, this has gone on way long, no surprise there, so I will either finish my truck camper complaints tomorrow or start talking about the good things about them, of which there are more than you might think.
Looks pretty desolate doesn't it? But desolation means different things to different people. Some folks would say it looks lonely, I would say it looks peaceful and quiet. I imagine a lot of people would say it looks barren, I say there's less vegetation to get in my way, and block up my solar panels. Some might say it appears to be dangerous, I think it looks like fun. Others might say it looks uninhabitable, and my response would be.... GREAT!