Jared Benedict tried in vain to get the public domain maps for free or reasonable costs through various means and sources. So instead he bought the whole US in 1:24k scale and will release them for free once his initial $1,600 investment is paid back. Soon we’ll be able to get them from his site or the Internet Archive.

These maps are useful for many reasons, but for the cheap traveler they can help you find spots of land that are free to camp on, such as BLM or federal forests. Currently Jared has some to offer at the Libre Map Project, but the Map Ransom will make everywhere downloadable instead of just some places.

I’m posting this as inspired by a conversation running in the vandwellers yahoo group. The conversation turned to keeping the bugs out and in my ventures I’ve learned a few things I shared.

Namely, spending an evening meticulously sewing in advesive backed magnetic tape strips that I loveling cut and mitered the ends together to create a 100% complete rim around the screen is a complete waste of time. The magnetism wasn’t enough to hold through the thin plastic screen. So that was about three and a half hours lost.

Then on a return shopping trip I found a pack of 40 or 50 or so magnetic disks in Wal-Mart’s craft section for a couple bucks. I really didn’t want to invest another minute in this but I also didn’t want to be eaten alive by mosquitos either. So rather than spend hours sewing the idea of stapling hit me. Simple, fast, and sturdy enough given the time investment.

All told it took about ten minutes to staple it together. I abandoned my template I made for sewing against and just did it sitting in the driver’s seat and fitting as I went. A quick trim of excess and I smugly sat in admiration. I tried opening and closing the door a few times and it didn’t fall off, or even hint at it, unlike the version with the magnetic tape which dropped at the slightest provocation.

Construction Details

To make this just start along one edge and place magnets every four to six inches. They’re cheap and it’ll go fast and the overkill will help form a more complete seal. Fold the screen material over and make the first staple parallel to the fold. Then the second staple goes on the side of the magnet. When you have a pocket slip the magnet in and give one more staple to close. I found it best to make this last staple on the side of the magnet that you’re working to, that is, the side that in a second will have another magnet some four to six inches away. This way each time you’re stapling you have as little in the way as possible so it’ll go most expediently.

I’ve handled mine carefully and they’re showing no signs of wear or tearing. And unlike using strips of magnetic tape the ones made with button magnets are so easy to fold! And that’s even with my tape design having gaps for folding allowances included–they were still way too still.

The one thing I’ll say about having sewn that first screen though, it gave me the motivation to do some mending of clothing. The needle and thread was already out so the excuses were few. I had several favorite garments with loose buttons that are now quite secure.

So the belt is on and for the couple of minutes I’ve run the engine all seems well. I’m so happy I was observant as a small child and learned the gumption necessarily to just do my own stuff and not be afraid or confused by mechanical things.

I took a little walk and with some guidance, from a repair shop ironically, I found the hidden auto parts store. It was an old timey shop with about fifty years of grit tucked in it’s corners. The counter guy thankfully took me seriously when I, stupid woman, asked for a new serpentine belt. He was really great and we narrowed down which belt would be needed based on what accessories it had and the engine size. He asked if I might by chance have it with me and I said, “well, the other half of my shopping list is a breaker bar so I can get the leverage needed to get the belt off.” He chuckled.

Fifty three dollars later and I was walking back and feeling very butch indeed with my two and half foot breaker bar in hand.

Returning to the parking lot I was secretly hoping I’d get some random man to lend his superior upper body strength to help–or perhaps an athletic woman. As I’m neither of those two I was really counting on the astoundingly long tool for leverage.

As it turned out the parking lot had plenty of traffic which flowed in a disturbing pattern. All men completely acted as if I didn’t exist. Older women would sort of look, but kept their distance. Who actually inquired if I needed help? Three separate younger women, in their 20s and 30s. Just where is chivalry these days and the good old fashioned neighborly lend a hand? The first two women offered their cell phones and moral support, making sure I was okay though not being able to offer practical help. The third one though, who came as I was wrapping up, was also mechanically able but by that point I was nearly done.

Thankfully that monster breaker bar gave me plenty of leverage to move the tensioner. I’ve failed miserably with shorter ones in the past and will keep this one in a place of esteemed honor as it shines gloriously in its function. Though long as it was I needed to remove the window washer fluid tank and vacuum accumulator to get enough swing. Small price indeed though to get running again.

The belt was beyond bad, it was completely fraying apart and worse than my initial inspection saw. The long separation must have been hiding somewhere. I inspected all the pulleys and they looked fine so I’m hoping it was just a belt gone bad of old age. I’d of course really rather not have another breakage and be told I need more work to prevent the same in the future.

And again, thanks to my father for taking the time to explain things to me when I came and sat with him when I was little. Though not the most patient of men he did always take the time to explain not only the process of repair but the deductive reasoning behind why this was the correct way to repair whatever the problem was.

Four days ago my serpentine belt started squeaking a little, then a bit more. Last night it was a racket. I’ve looked at it seemingly a dozen times though and it keeps looking perfectly okay for a used belt with plenty of serviceable life yet.

Last night I got tired of the noise and bought a little can of belt dressing. This made the noise go away and I was hoping I could make it back to my home base area, where I can find a driveway and a helpful assistant so I can easily change it and do a deeper inspection for why it’s making noise. But this morning I was rudely introduced to a greater and highly expedited need for attention.

While pulling up to the library I’ve stolen internet access from the last couple days I started hearing something flapping around under the hood.  “Oh, expletive.” I quickly get a parking spot, open the hood and expecting the worst I was actually somewhat relieved. My mind had been spinning a million miles an hour… “where was that auto parts store I saw… could I do this on my own… how could I scam someone’s assistance… what would a shop charge… is there anyone I know, even remotely, that I could call who isn’t a hundreds of miles away…”

I didn’t have the gumption to get to far into this first thing in the morning but my quick examination showed that the belt had jumped a groove on the AC compressor and was wearing badly on the far side of the belt. Why this didn’t show before I don’t know. Perhaps I didn’t notice, but it’s a sure bet it was causing some foul noises. And there are a couple of frays visible on that side that knocked off the engagement wires for the AC clutch so that’s probably the racket I heard right before parking. I hope.

Ideally I’d get a new belt on there. But I’m hoping that maybe I can wait until I’m about another 90 minutes closer to my home base area so that I can have help putting the new belt on. I know from experience that I don’t have the upper body strength to get the tensioner sufficiently moved to allow a belt to get on. Not to mention that it’s nice to have two hand when positioning a belt so an assistant is quite handy.

I’ve though about just looking sad and pathetic and female and blond and playing that trump card outside the local auto parts store. I’m in a really nice town and I’m sure someone would help. But I’m perhaps a little too independent to ask such favors and I hate playing down my abilities. So maybe I’ll just try it myself first and see what super human strength I can come up with. The worst case scenario is getting one of the constructions guys next door to the library to help for a couple minutes. Even if I need to slip then a fiver it’ll be well worth it.

I need to get it in my head, at some point, that other people might actually feel the same grand satisfaction when doing something altruistic for another person. Recently I changed someone’s battery for nothing more than a thanks and I was quite happy with the exchange. But I’m not one to ask for such things. I was brought up to just do things myself and not bother other people with my problems. But perhaps I should learn to allow others the joys of helping someone in need.

I’m back from the woods and have spent a couple days getting reacquainted with civilization. I’ve been sleeping nights at hotel parking lots in tourist towns as I make my way slowly back to my home area.

One trick I’ve learned just recently was that if I start my van just slight after someone else starts their vehicle that people don’t pay attention to me. They’ve already looked in my direction to see the other person start up then pull off so I follow their actions when the other people in the area grow bored.

This has worked so perfectly the last couple mornings that I suspect my van will have appeared to mysteriously vanish. Which, claiming parking spots that I have no legitimate claim to, is probably a good thing indeed.

Seems that everywhere I go I see someone else living in their van. Some might be adventurers, others like myself who simply need living arrangements that are in keeping with their income.

This was a rusted out, beat up blue Ford van with an air matress and cooler visible through the not quite fully blacked out window. I’m not sure who it was, this was in a strip mall with multiple shops. It was here last time I stopped too, when I first got into the area and wanted a bite to eat. Being a small town the grocery store is also a deli and fast food seller.

It amazes me that even in such a small little place I’m seeing others like me. Whatever their story, they got their own hoopty little home on wheels too.

About ten days ago I got the offer to help at a camp ground. Pay is essentially nothing, with travel I’m a little better than  breaking even, but I’m living largely for free and getting a tan. Not such a bad thing. While I’ve had plenty of time for myself I’ve also been several miles away from the nearest cell phone signal let alone be near internet access so I’ve not posted much.

Leaving for the trip took me by surprise, a mild one. I knew it was coming up but time flew quickly and I jammed a whole bunch of preparation into last minute details. The night before I left for the 8 hour drive I was so anxiety ridden about undone details and the whole process of trusting my van for such distances cause me not to sleep. I was going to leave early in the morning to avoid traffic and knew that even if I could fall asleep I wouldn’t wake in time.

So the next morning around 6am I left. Bleary and well caffeinated I drove.

The first week has gone well and I’ve just washed my clothing about bought a few special treats from the grocery store like the soda I’m now drinking. The library here is quaint. I’m in small town nowhere in the middle of nothing. I think they have all of seventeen books to lend and a couple old videos of the Lucile Ball show–on Beta. Still, I’m loving this town. Everyone is friendly and quite literally the church bells are currently playing their 7pm songs. Yes, songs. It’s been clanking on for easily five minutes now.

My light is short and I must drive back into the forest and must cut my update short. The nights here are amazing. The sky has more stars than I can imagine. There’s no city lights to obscure the view so every night the sky is cloudless I can be found in a chair in the field reclined way back and just staring upward.

I’ve dropped mentions several times of how I’ve needed a new alternator for a while now. Last night I realized rather harshly that I should have mentioned it one less time as I ended up doing an emergency repair. Had it waited another 15 minutes to seize I’d have been on my father’s driveway as I planned on replacing it today. No, really! It was on my action list for today and instead of fixing it I’m writing about it. But as it played out my problem wasn’t just an alternator failing, it was also in my delaying the repair in hopes of finding a better financial position to afford the repair. Now my emergency hundred dollar bill is owned by an auto parts store.

Yesterday when I drove from my nighttime parking spot to the library, less than a mile of easy driving, I heard the alternator go from it’s usual whine to a full-fledged racket. It was clearly bad and calling out for death to relieve it of it’s burden. But it was on the way back that the bearings truly gave out and it sounded like hell itself opened up all of a sudden under my hood and soon the four horsepower of the apocalypse would be jumping out.

I knew the second that I heard it doomsday was near so I quickly got off the main drag and into a subdivision. The road I was on I’d need to be towed from whereas I could actually park and repair on a side street and this proved a wise move. One block into the subdivision it died.

When I chose this area to be homeless at while living in my van it was done with deliberation. Most towns have overnight parking bans or at the least restrictions. But, I have friends and family all over to lean on for support and favors. As it turned out I ended up enlisting two people’s help from the family and two strangers.

The death rattle

The van died on a little street corner and I wanted to push it from the stop sign. Turning to the right was mostly a downhill run and I could get my van safely off the road and to a curb but mostly is a tough proposition when the vehicle you’re rolling weighs four tons. Thankfully a kindly gentleman helped for that critical four seconds of pushing and got me up the slight incline so I could roll the rest of the way.

I called a relative and she took me to the parts store where I discovered there could be one of several alternators so I’d need to return for engine and VIN numbers or simply bring in the dead alternator for comparison. I ended up just borrowing that car for a while and pulling the alternator while racing the fading evening sun.

Another kindly stranger was out walking his dog and asked if I needed help. He lived just down the street and offered tools and assistance. I declined on the tools as I carry a basic set and thanked him for the offer and that I may need it when getting the belt back on. Alternators are a pretty easy swap, requiring just a couple of bolts and a wire or two and in short order I had mine out. I can’t imagine how hot it was while running as it was just touchable when I started removing it–some 20-30 minutes after it broke down.

Being a chick in an auto parts store is sometimes comical, sometimes bang my head on the wall frustrating. The guy last night though wasn’t giving me the skeptical eye or wondering why my husband sent me to such a manly store to shop while he’s back home in the garage up to his elbows in greasy engine. The clerk was confident enough with me that it wasn’t until we had the new alternator on the counter that he questioned, “and you’re sure the alternator is dead?” I simply spun the shaft and let him hear for himself the racket and said, “well…it’s sure not right.” He laughed.

The neighbor did return when I was finishing up. He and his wife were in the yard while the kids played. And I was so grateful too! I’d simply never have gotten the serpentine belt on by myself. The amount of force needed on the tensioner to get it moved far enough was so great that even the guy, with his superior upper body strength, had trouble getting it moved. I tried, but we only made headway once I was the one stringing the belt back onto it’s path.

My best friend is a battery pack

After I bought the van the battery I learned that it was a fool’s economy not to get one of those $40 starter assistance battery packs. My essentially brand new battery in my newly purchased van had died and left me stranded one cold winter day. It was $50 for a jump start from the tow truck so the next day I bought a replacement battery and a chargeable battery pack. Sadly the nearest replacement point for a warrantee swap on my battery was several hours away.

Last night that battery pack paid for itself as my van’s battery was just a tad too low to get the engine started up but that booster pack got it roaring. Politely roaring that is, in the purr like a kitten sort of way. Suddenly my van ran amazingly quiet. No more bearing whine and no more gurgly rattle of a thrown bearing!

I drove around a while to charge the battery up and blissed out on the pleasing “I’m in good repair” engine noises my van produced. As it was late I just stuck around the relatives house after returning the car. I was invited to stay the night so I could eat dinner, shower and relax. Having a regular home was so very appreciated last night. The shower was a godsend as I was literally dripping with sweat for the speed and physical involvement of the repair. So I unwound with some DVDs while stretched out on a very comfortable sofa–in an air conditioned room!

The true cost of automotive repairs

People have often wondered why I do my own repairs. This was especially true previous to 9/11 when I always had really well paying jobs. But the cost of having someone else repair a car is more than just the astoundingly high hour rate mechanics charge, it’s the time involved and the quality of the work. When I do my own repairs I know it’ll be perfect because I’m not getting paid by the job, or even by the hour. I’m going to make it perfect and take the time to ensure it is so. And I’ll spend a couple minutes cleaning a part that’s still serviceable rather than a mechanic who’ll just charge me for a new anti-rattle clip for brakes when the old ones, once cleaned, are still perfectly serviceable.

Also, I really hate arranging for rides to and from the mechanic and having to leave it there all day, or even half the day when I know it’s something quick. Like last night it took only 65 minutes from start to finish to replace the alternator including the two trips to the parts store. Comparing that to waiting for rides, waiting for service clerks, waiting for paperwork, waiting, waiting, waiting–and saying no to a million upsells and horror stories about how this or that is broken and must be repaired to be safe. But the only danger there was to my wallet. Especially as women aren’t supposed to know about cars I hear it all and am fortunately smart enough to smell the fishy stories. When I do need repairs done for me at a shop I play stupid for then to see what they say. If they’re honest enough to be fair when I play into the stupid woman expectations I figure they’re a good bet to hire for the repair.