No Rent... REALLY?

So, school's out in a few weeks. I'm pulling anchor on April 30th, no matter what. Why? Because I'd rather spend the money that I would pay for "lot rent" on gas to get to somewhere cool. Not that where I'm at isn't cool, but it sure would be great to just go live somewhere else because I can. Why would I live in a high-plains town over the summer when I could live in the mountains and take some shitty job, but step out my front door and be on a motorcycle trail? Or a pack trail? It kind of doesn't make any sense to stay where I am, in part because opportunities are limited and because I don't want to have to cool my house over the summer. It seems that this RV lifestyle is wasted on the old --- I'm having a hard time comprehending the fact that my house can be anywhere I can afford to drive to and then I can come back without any ties in lease or mortgage. It's kind of crazy.

A presentation on the homeless

There was a presentation in my department today about a graduate student's project on the homeless. It got me thinking about what "homeless" is and how we define what homelessness is. By many people's definitions, I'm "homeless." I pay rent as needed, I don't live in a house with a foundation, and my house has wheels and an engine. I have a roof over my head, but no real reason, other than the price of gas, to not roam. Am I homeless?

I realized while thinking about this that I'm the least homeless person I know, despite the fact that many people would classify me as such. The reason I came to this conclusion is that I own the roof over my head outright. Nobody can take away my house because I'm not paying rent -- if I don't want to pay rent, or can't, I unplug my utilities and wait until I can afford rent. I don't have a lease and my mortgage is no longer the roof over my head...

So, who's homeless? I don't think it's me. As I see it, I'm not homeless for more reasons than just owning the roof directly over my head. I also realized that I would actually be willing to camp year-around. My tents are homes in themselves. It seems that I'm realizing that I have a functional view of the world and have broken down the barriers of what "home" is and what it is to be "homeless."

In a nutshell, what I've learned is that the definition of homeless is narrow and kind of ridiculous. Why would I be considered homeless when my living situation involves so little risk from being lost to wealthy bankers or landlords? By definitions, even of academics studying the issue, I am homeless... and I disagree.

Cats in a Van

Having cats in an RV year around seems nuts. It is. But the more I revisit the insanity of my decision to live in an RV with cats, the more I realize just how well my toilet training worked. Having cats that use the human toilet instead of a litter box, and use it reliably 99.5% of the time, has been the only possible way to have these critters. No stench, no litter, no problem. The cats seem to like it because their toilet is always clean. Since they don't come in contact with their bio-matter anymore, their paws and coats have also cleaned up. Vomiting is down to maybe once every month and a half. It has been a colossal experiment, but one that I can safely say is a total success. It has been so nice to just flush the toilet and not have to deal with stinky shit in the open air. Once it's in water, it's a far less stinky ordeal. I was concerned that the whole house would stink of their stuff when I first started this, due to the small volume of the interior, but it just hasn't been the case. It's like having a couple of toilet trained house elves, rather than litter-box using cats. Pretty crazy.

Winter in an RV? Ha!

Only a couple days to go until it's officially Spring. I think I'll take an early victory lap. I realized the other day that I've officially made it through Winter in an RV at 7,200 feet. Wind... cold... snow... whatever. It's an especially strange thing because there were foundation houses with pipes freezing, even University buildings with frozen pipes in the town. Then there I was in my house on wheels and didn't have a single day of frozen pipes. I guess all that winterizing work I did was a total win.

The skirt didn't pop a single snap, the water line never froze, and the sewer compartment stayed near the freezing point on the COLDEST nights thrown at me. All in all, I'd say it was a near total success.

However, I have learned a couple things about living in an RV during Winter. The first is that you have to be prepared to not always be toasty warm -- I knew this, but it's definitely a reality. The second is that the windows are where most energy will be lost. Last, humidity is a problem during Winter because you can't easily vent it. It will freeze around the metal window and door frames on the coldest days.

For next year, I'll be installing a heater in the water compartment in fear of the next winter being worse than this one. I may also install a second backup heater in the sewer compartment for the same reason. It would also be nice to find a way to insulate the skirt, so I can achieve even better energy efficiency. I will also be insulating all of the windows for next year to make it more energy efficient.

How was living in the RV in winter? Well, it was exactly what I thought it would be -- Cozy, cool, but totally livable. Days when the sun was shining, even if it was 10 degrees outside, the interior would hold above 60 degrees during the day. As I predicted, the temperature gradient in the beast was definitely extreme with cold temps near the windows and warm temps in the middle of the room, but that's totally liveable. It was like living in a tiny house or apartment, but with the knowledge that I can unplug and go away any time I'm ready. That's a great feeling.

Water Conservation

When I started out this crazy little plan, one thing I had in mind was conservation -- of anything I could. Water, energy, time, money, and so on. One thing I recently realized is that I was able to make tremendous savings in water. Not that I was wasting a lot before, but it's a concern living in the West where water is scarce and becoming more scarce with climate change and population growth.

From the beginning, I have logged my water use. The nice thing about having holding tanks for soiled water is that I know how big they are. I drain my gray tank once a week and my black tank once every three weeks. Combining capacity with the frequency of drains tells me about how much water I am using.

The other day on NPR, a factoid was dropped that the average American uses 150 gallons of water per day. No details were given about the statistic, but I assume this means toilet flushes, showers, hand-washing, dish washing, clothes washing, and drinking. The number seems excessive to me, perhaps especially now that I am living in a domicile that is specifically built for keeping water use down.

With two ~40 gallon tanks being drained a total of four times over 3 weeks, I can estimate that I am using about 160 gallons of water every 3 weeks. That comes to somewhere around 50 gallons per week, or about 8 gallons per day. Comparing NPR's factoid, it seems that I'm doing pretty well on water.

I should note that my data are based on my water use for dishes, food prep, drinking water, shower, and toilet. I have no lawn, so no water lost there. My numbers do not include laundry, which I do once every two weeks at a laundromat or toilet use while on campus. So, as bad as my science may be, even if I have a 100% margin of error (unlikely), I am still saving tremendous amounts of water in my daily endeavors.

Reasons for the savings likely include the flow restrictor I installed on the RV to keep standard water pressure from blowing the pipes. Also, the minimized number of dishes I have and the smaller sink, so dishes are done quite efficiently. The toilet I am using is also not a tank toilet, so I use a fraction of the water that even the most efficient house-toilets use.

I'm chalking one up for water conservation on the list of successes this experiment has produced.

First Semester Complete

A long overdue update -- I completed my first semester of grad school living in the RV. Got a 4.0 for the semester and began solidifying some solid relationships with professors and peers. I think I've finally found that 'work/life' balance that I have always biased more toward work than life. All in all, I think the semester is a sign that I'm on the right track.

The RV has been great. After spending time in places with shared walls and in landlord situations, I am realizing more and more that the RV was the right way to go. It's like living in a tiny house alone. It's also really nice to know that if something goes out, I don't have to wait for the landlord to come fix it -- I just have to fix it myself. For some, this may not sound desirable, but I greatly prefer it.

Anyway, the semester went great. I spent a lot of time working with literary theory in my humanities courses and environmental law and decision making processes in my environment course. It's a great mix of material that keeps me interested. Strangely, it's really an educational path that builds on what I was doing professionally at my last job -- blending science and policy in the frame of culture to make science and policy  understandable and consumable by the public.

Overall, it was a great semester. I hope the next semester goes as well. The RV has been great and I'm excited to make it through my first winter in it. So far it appears that my winterizing work paid off, which is a major relief.

2 Month Checkup - The Good. The Bad.

I've now been living in the RV for a little over two months. I've seen temps down to 15 degrees, and winds of around 55 mph. I'm starting to get a firm grasp of what it's like to live in an RV full time. In relation to living in a house, some things are better, some worse. Here's what I've found so far:

Things I Really Like

1. Small size = fast cleaning: I can clean my entire house, including vacuum, sweeping, mopping, bathrooms and kitchen in under 30 minutes. That's for a deep cleaning. When you live in ~150 square feet, it's a FAST clean with little waste and minimal cleaning products. 
2. Minimized Belongings: While I do have a big storage unit as my rough space, I tend to need rough space more than soft living spaces. But within the RV, I have minimized my dishes and all other belongings, so there's not as much potential clutter. Simple and minimized makes for just a plain simpler lifestyle. 
3. The potential to leave: How many people have had bad neighbors? I have a few I don't like, but there's profound comfort in knowing that I can literally unplug and go within 24 hours if people really bug me. And there's not much in the way of moving to be done, either. Just unskirt, unplug the utilities, and drive away. Pretty amazingly simple. 
4. Feeling the Elements: This is one that doesn't fit a lot of people, but I've found that I like being closer to what's going on outside. Even though the RV is a tiny house on wheels, temperature swings are still greater than most new stick and foundation houses. After spending 10 years going from a climate controlled workspace to a climate controlled house, I greatly appreciate some variety in my living space. Not for everyone, but it was an intentional side effect that I welcome. 

Things I Really Don't Like

1. Sewer: The RV has two tanks, one for toilet and one for all other water waste. These tanks can't just continually drain, due to the potential for leaving solids in the tank, so they have to be filled then dumped. The process isn't hard -- just opening a couple valves in the water closet, then closing them, but it's one piece of maintenance that is unwelcome. 
2. Humidity: In a space of so little volume, humidity builds up fast. Whether from cooking, shower, or breathing, the humidity rises sharply. This will become a problem come January when I can't easily just open all the windows to dry the place out a bit.
3. The Pitfalls of Small Volume: Like the humidity element, everything else works the same way. Cooking food, burning food, if you smoke up the kitchen with burnt toast, the whole house is smoked up. That's not always fun. Lots of testing of the smoke detectors. 

Overall, I'm enjoying it quite a bit -- There are challenges associated with it, but considering that my house cost as much as a modest used car, the trade-offs still seem well worth it.