Here's a compilation of the seventeen episodes of The Rocky Mountain Rubber Tramp, a story of living in a vintage camper with a dog for a year, while spending equal time in a secluded mountain getaway in the northern Colorado Rockies and the raucous, enchanting town of Las Vegas, New Mexico - known in its previous
Welcome back, dear reader, here we are again, seemingly stuck in Las Vegas, and not the one where “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” unless we are what’s happening, because here we seem to stay. Tough place to break free from…but let’s give it a try. Vamonos! “I’m here at Storrie Lake
“Looking out the camper window at sunshine bouncing off of snow. I’m here again at Storrie Lake State Park in Las Vegas, NM. Nice! Overcast and blizzarding all day yesterday. Very blustery. Southern California seems like it was a long time ago, and far, far away… But today it’s time to jump back
Let’s stick with some more of these journal entries, dear reader, and Roll, Baby, roll! We covered some time in the last post, did we not? But now, we must cover some distance. Hold on, if you will, and not loosely! “Getting ready to FINALLY head south toward New Mexico. One last night
Let’s zip through some journal entries, and get away from the approaching storm... “Alright, I’m sitting in the shed – still hasn’t been wired for electricity – but I’ve got the cell phone signal-booster going, so I have 4G and a connection to the net with my tablet and phone, although I still haven’t
“Summer is slipping by much too fast, what once was imagined is already past...” -Journal entry: Wednesday; August 15, 2018; 10:23 am. In my camper, Cochise. Three months of living on a mountainside, 9,000’ above sea level, in the woods, just south of the Wyoming border, no neighbors within earshot and no cell phone service.
“Finally, I’m able to sit down and get back into writing, beginning with this journal. I’m writing, for the first time, from the studio desk in my snug little shed. It will also serve as a shop, so therefore will be referred to as “The Studiop” (or “The Shtudiop”). I’m on a bare desktop @
“Yowza, what a past couple of weeks this has been. In the course of packing, hauling, storing, hauling, digging a septic tank, clearing a couple loads of brush and building lofts and benches in the shed, my back had had enough. I pinched my sciatic nerve and suddenly the world changed: I couldn’t sit,
“Ready to head into the Village and hit the library again – this is becoming a good routine. I did laundry yesterday at Basecamp and fished while my clothes were in the machines. I also figured out how to get Wi-Fi with my laptop (the antennae switch was turned off), so it was a
“Well, here we go...I’m at the beginning of the greatest adventure of all. I have gone Into the Woods (not necessarily Into the Wild). As I look out my kitchen/work table window I see the stone cairn islands of Dowdy Lake, which have gripped me since CJ and I discovered them while ice-fishing a
