The Garden Tourist, Florida: a Zoom Presentation

A trip to Florida is definitely sounding good right now! We are delighted to welcome garden designer and author Jana Milbocker back for a Zoom presentation on Tuesday afternoon, January 10th at 3 pm, by the Falmouth Public Library. Click here to register and get the Zoom link, or contact the reference department at 508-457-2555 x 7! 

Enjoy a virtual trip to the Sunshine State with a tour of exquisite gardens in Orlando, Sarasota, St. Petersburg, Naples and Miami. Learn about the palms, bromeliads, hibiscus and other gorgeous plants that thrive in this tropical climate. Please note that we are unable to record this event. 

Jana combines horticulture, design, and travel tips to educate, inspire and delight both new and seasoned gardeners. She loves to visit gardens and historic sites in the U.S. and abroad, and share her trips through her books, photos and blog. Her previous books are The Garden Tourist: 120 Destination Gardens and Nurseries in the Northeast in 2018, and The Garden Tourist’s New England: all are available at the library and at Eight Cousins Books.

She has lectured at flower shows in Massachusetts, Connecticut, Maine, New York and New Jersey, as well as a multitude of horticultural societies, garden clubs, and libraries in the Northeast. She is the owner of Enchanted Gardens, a landscape design firm in the Boston area. She is the past president of the Holliston Garden Club, and she is active in the Garden Club Federation of Massachusetts, Massachusetts Horticultural Society, and GardenComm International.

This event is free and appropriate for adults and teens, and is sponsored by the Board of Library Trustees.

Practical Travel Advice for Real People

Every so often, as I’m mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, I come across a staged, romanticized picture of “van life”.  You’ve seen these.  It’s usually a couple sitting outside an $80,000 pristine, luxury vehicle just after dusk.  They seem to be traveling with a 4 foot potted cactus, 16 floors pillows, a projector, screen, and 50 feet of white string lights. There may or may not be a guitar involved.  These photos irritate me.  Like, where did you shower and curl your hair, and is that a charcuterie board you have there? They just aren’t honest reflections of what it’s really like to be on the road – at least, in my experience. 

So, my aim here is to be precisely not that.  I have some utilitarian advice – mostly knowledge gained from messing up.  And, luckily for you, reader, I’ve messed up a lot.  

Everyone has a different rig, budget, route and objectives, so I’ll try to keep this general.

The Basics 

Have a full size spare and jack, and be comfortable changing a tire. It’s easy. If you’ve never done it before, find a youtube video and figure it out in the driveway before you go.  Make sure you have a tire gauge and jumper cables too.   

Pay attention to your fluid levels.  Especially if (like me) you’re driving an older vehicle.  Everyone knows to check oil and coolant, but don’t forget transmission fluid.  This can sometimes be tucked away in the back / a little more difficult to get to, but figure it out, because a transmission fluid leak can be catastrophic.  For example, once upon a time, I had a leak I didn’t know about and ended up blowing the transmission and consequently spent the next 2 weeks living in a mechanic’s parking lot in rural Oklahoma.  Lesson learned. 

On Where to Sleep 


Truck Stops

The truth is not every night will be spent somewhere with a view.  There will be times when you are just trying to cover ground and in those instances, especially if you’re on a major highway, truck stops might be the best option.  Many of them have free WiFi, the others usually have WiFi available for a fee.  What they also have is super nice showers.  Seriously, truck stop showers are fantastic.  They are clean, safe, and absolutely worth the $8-$15 dollars you’ll pay for them.  It isn’t actually just a shower either.  You’re given a large bathroom with a toilet, sink and (generally) a huge shower.  They almost always provide towels as well.  There is no time limit, so you can go in there, take a deep breath, and pretend you’re in a nice hotel.  (Side note: another option around showering is to get a Planet Fitness membership that allows you to visit any branch in the country.  That runs about $20/ month, and if you’ll be spending a lot of time in towns, rather than boondocking, it might be worth it.) 

The parking situation at truck stops varies, but keep this in mind:  If you are parked among 18-wheelers, truckers will be coming and going at all hours.  They are exhausted and when they pull in at 3AM, they are looking to avoid hitting semi-trucks, but when they are reversing, they may not see your little van tucked in there among the giants.  So, park somewhere out of the way, where you are unlikely to be accidentally backed into.   (Yes, this happened to me.)  

 

Not All Walmarts are Created Equal

Not all Walmarts allow you to stay overnight, and they will ask you to move.  Especially on the West coast.  Ask the parking lot attendants, because the official company line and what actually happens may not be in perfect alignment, and these people will know what’s up.  Other large retailers like Lowes, Home Depot, and Costco might also be options – again, ask the parking attendants.  Most Cracker Barrels allow overnight parking and I’ve even stayed in 24 hour McDonalds lots.  (McDonalds has solid free WiFi too).  

 

National & State Parks

National and state parks are wonderful, and they are the highlights of many of our trips.  Here’s my two cents on those.  If you plan to go to more than two national parks over the course of a year, it is worth getting the National Parks Pass, which costs about $100, and lasts 1 year.  The entry fee for National Parks is usually in the $40 range.  State parks are less expensive.  While some may have campgrounds, they are usually pretty pricey (again, state parks less so).  My advice is to go enjoy the parks and see all the sights / use the facilities during the day, and when it’s time to set up camp, drive just outside the bounds of the park.  In many cases, the surrounding area is federal/ public land you’re able to camp on for free.  You can find maps through the Bureau of Land Management website:  www.blm.gov/maps 

 

Resources

Public Libraries: I’m a librarian now, but I wasn’t prior to my last big trip, and at that time I had no idea the extent of services and resources public libraries provide.  If you’re going to be in a town for more than a day, I would look into it.  Many libraries now have what they call a “library of things”, and you can borrow all kinds of stuff.  Every library will be different, but chromebooks, WiFi  hotspots, household tools, sewing machines, lawn games, binoculars, and bike locks are all examples of what you might be able to borrow… also, they often have books.  They’ll have free wifi as well, and if you need information about the town (or anything else), it turns out librarians really are an excellent source.  (You may be thinking, “but I won’t have a library card”.  At my library, we let people get a card even if they will only be in town a day or two, and I know many libraries are like that.  If not, explain your situation, I would bet on them working with you.) 

Ask the locals.  About everything – where to go, what to do, where the best tacos are, etc.  I find this question effective:  “If you had a friend visiting from out of town, who had never been here before, where would you take them?”  This usually helps bypass the typical tourist traps people feel obliged to tell you about.  When I asked people in Sedona, AZ that question, more than one of them said, “actually, I’d go to Jerome”, which is a small town about 40 minutes from Sedona.  So, I went to Jerome.  As expected, it turned out to be one of the coolest towns I’ve ever been to.  It’s an old mining town literally built on a cliff with narrow switchback roads, so that the main street feels like it has levels rather than blocks.  If you’re ever in the area, you should check it out.  

Fill up water jugs every chance you get – especially when traveling with a pet.  Most rest stops have water bottle filling stations.  Where to get free, clean water is another good question for a local.  


Light, Power, Heat 

There are lots of options to get these jobs done, and I would never attempt to cover them all.  I can only speak to what has worked for me.  My priorities have been, primarily, low cost and low profile.  I need it to fit in the budget and in the vehicle.    


Light

I have these small, cylindrical,  inflatable solar lights.  They’re great. They’re waterproof, and take up no space at all when deflated.  During the day I stick them in my window to charge, and they’ll provide light all night.  


Power

I have a portable battery pack – a bit smaller than a classic lunch box.  It can be charged by plugging it into the wall or while you’re driving via the cigarette lighter (or however you charge your phone).  I love it, and it’s really all I need as it has a couple USB ports and a couple regular outlets, so I can charge all of my things at the same time.  

I also have a small solar charging bank with two USB ports.  It’s the size of a couple phones stacked on top of each other, and it folds out to be about 16” X 4”.  Again, I charge it in the window, or lay it out on the hood of my camper when I’m parked.  

If you have the space, and can afford it, those larger portable batteries with jumper cables attached are pretty awesome.  They are about the size of a small, rolling piece of carry-on luggage, and they have the power to not only charge your electronics, but also jump your vehicle, should you find yourself alone with a dead battery.  


Heat

I use a portable indoor/ outdoor propane heater that runs on the little 1 pound camping propane tanks.  The brand I have is “Mr. Heater, Portable Buddy”, and it’s worked well for me.  It’s about the size of a fat briefcase. 

The other thing to remember, if you’re traveling in the winter, is to do your best to insulate and conserve heat.  For me, that meant hanging a blanket to block off the cab area when I was parked in order to keep heat in the living space.  I also used the insulating plastic that covers windows/ skylights to prevent drafts (you use a hair dryer to shrink it / remove wrinkles and it’s barely visible if done correctly) and it was effective. Of course, it can be easily removed at any time.  Lastly, don’t forget the floors – they can be a major heat sink.  A rug (or several) will do wonders to keep your feet and rig warm in even the coldest weather.  


Toilets

(If you’re driving a vehicle without a working toilet / blackwater tank)  

Lots of people travel without a toilet. It’s totally possible (I’ve done it) and the reality of that, if you’re in the middle of the desert, for example, is digging a hole every day after your morning coffee. It’s easier to get used to than you might think. (The book, How to Shit in the Woods by Kathleen Meyer is an excellent resource that covers environmentally responsible, sustainable, shitting practices and procedures. Seriously.) Of course, you can also just make sure you’re never too far from a public bathroom. However, if you both want a toilet and want to be away from civilization for extended periods, there are myriad camping / composting toilets on the market. They are more expensive than you might think, so mentally prepare for that before you go shopping.

Composting toilets are, of course, the most eco-friendly option.  I didn’t go that route because I just didn’t want to have to interact that closely with my own “waste” every day.  (In almost all composting toilets you have to at least dump a container of pee daily.)  I’m not proud of my squeamishness, because I do try to be as kind to the environment as I can, but that’s the truth of the matter.  Instead, I opted for a dry flush toilet.  These things are basically just like a diaper genie, but in toilet form.  I have the Laveo Dry Flush Toilet, which costs about $700 (wild, I know).  Google it if you’re interested, but essentially, it twist-seals every time you use it (so it doesn’t smell), and after about 15 waterless “flushes” (twist seals) you end up with a garbage bag full of individually wrapped poos.  You can then chuck this garbage bag in any dumpster.  I use it sparingly, and it’s worked well for me.  As I said, there are tons of different options around toilets.  I recommend doing the research and putting some thought into this before you make a decision.  I certainly have no interest in telling anyone where to poop.  You do you.  


Some days are like that… 

Finally, you might have bad days.  You’ll almost certainly have difficult moments along your journey.  (If it was easy, everyone would do it, right?)  Of course, all of that is part of the adventure and the tough days teach us the most and make for the best stories (so try to remember that when you’re mid-meltdown).  I tend to, on my worst days, imagine my life as an HBO series.  I find it strangely and wonderfully comforting.  I’m sure there are healthier coping strategies, but I can only speak to what works for me.  And, for me, the protagonist in a smart comedy getting stuck in Oklahoma with a blown transmission is more fun than me being stuck, alone, in Oklahoma with a blown transmission.  So, maybe give it a try on your next bad day.  But also, remember to check the transmission fluid.  

What I Learned on the Road

From our new Teen Librarian, Meg!

A year ago, I was stuck in Sallisaw, Oklahoma living in the parking lot of a mechanic’s shop with a blown transmission.  That’s pretty close to the end of the story I’m going to tell you though, Reader, so let me rewind a bit.  

A nomadic life in a tiny house (some kind of camper, RV, or converted van / bus) bouncing around between National Parks, wild places, eccentric towns, and interesting cities is just about the most glorious adventure I can think of.  It was, and continues to be, a dream of mine. So, last year, I bought an ‘86 Toyota Camper and I tried it for 2 months. I left Cape Cod in mid-January and took a southern-ish route to the West Coast (through Tennessee, Arkansas, Northern Texas, Arizona and New Mexico).  I visited lots of great towns, and several National and State Parks along the way (including Zion, Bryce Canyon, Arches National Park and Joshua Tree). When I got to the San Diego area, I took a hard right and headed North on beautiful, coast-hugging Route 1. I went all the way to Seattle and then I turned around and went back down more or less the way I had come.  When I was back in Southern California, I began the journey home, but as I previously mentioned, only got as far as Oklahoma.  

It sounds really romantic – the cross-country trip.  Just me and my dog, who (of course) rides shotgun. And, in some ways, it was.  I drove through the Redwoods in Northern California, I saw a psychic in Sedona, Arizona.  I went to the Chihuly Garden and Glass Museum in Seattle, Washington. I rescued a puppy. I did some real backcountry camping on Federal land a few times.  I was absolutely alone in the desert and it was wonderful. (Of course, the camper got stuck in some deep sand once or twice, but I’ve been stuck in snow many times growing up in the North East and it’s almost the same thing, so I was able to get myself out of those particular sand traps.)  

The idyllic perception many people have of life on the road is constantly reinforced by the ubiquitous, carefully staged Instagram photos flooding the Internet.  It seems so beautifully simple – just an incredible road to another ideal camping spot after another. These photos are a lie, however, and they drive me crazy. (I’m sure you can imagine the types of photos I mean:  Posed next to a spotless vintage VW bus, there will be a beautiful young woman with clean, perfectly styled hair and makeup. Next to her, there’s a huge potted cactus with white string lights on it and blankets and pillows strewn on the ground around a delightful-looking picnic.  There’s probably also a steer skull hanging on the side of the van, because of course there is. First of all, where did you plug in your hair dryer? That 6-foot cactus fits in your VW van huh? And all those clean, oversized floor pillows too? Amazing. The truth is, there is no way that person actually lives in that van, and I’m sure if the photographer panned right, we’d see the props department and make-up team that put this little tableau together.)  

In fact, the camper life/ van life is much more trying than those staged photos on Instagram would lead you to believe.  A lot of it is hard, and not at all glamorous. I broke down – more than once, I got lost, I cried – more than once, a semi-truck backed into me and put a hole in the back of the camper at 2AM while I was sleeping at a truck stop.  I went a long time between showers and usually used truck stop showers or national/ state park showers. My heat didn’t work, and many nights, especially in the beginning, it was so cold water would freeze solid inside the camper.    

Of course, I’m not at all sorry I did it.  I learned a lot – about Toyota engines, about myself, and about truck stop showers (which, in case you are curious, are WAY nicer than you’d think, and really not creepy at all.)  I know exactly what it feels like when I am about to blow a tire, and I know how to change it once I do. I can check and change the oil, transmission fluid, coolant, and power steering fluid.  I know what it sounds like when the starter isn’t working and how to find it behind the engine and bang it with a wrench (that’s seriously what you do) to get it to function again.  

In any case, back in Sallisaw, nearing the end of my adventure, I was coming to terms with the fact that the incredibly rare transmission I needed was going to take time to find, and even more time to ship and even more time to install.  So, after two weeks of living in the parking lot, I took my (now 2) dogs, rented a van for way too much money, packed as much as I could in it, and got myself home.  

It felt like defeat.  It felt like everyone who said I’d never make it across the country in an ‘86 Breaking-Bad-looking camper (and that I was stupid to try) was right.  When I got home, a lot of people told me to cut my losses and leave it there. But, I think I also learned that our dreams are our own. And they don’t have to make sense to anyone else.  

So, a couple months later, when the camper was fixed, I flew back to Oklahoma, picked it up, and finally drove it back to Cape Cod.   

It’s running great now and I’ve just finished gutting a large portion of the interior to update and improve the style and functionality of the furniture.  I love this project of a camper, and I’m glad that I made the (admittedly financially irresponsible) decision to rescue it from Oklahoma, because this is my dream, and it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else.



 

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