“The car tent is a tent designed to look like a car cover, so you can go camping in the city without being disturbed. And really, who doesn’t go camping in the city? When you get hungry you just shoot a business man and cook him over an open flame. Delicious!” https://shltr.net/OEYL5T

From Manfred Flemme

Lloyd,

As a bookmaker and Pacific coaster you may enjoy this fast 60-page book I just made.

   I, and my 15-year-old son and nephew just rode our bicycles from Vancouver, Canada to San Francisco, hugging the coast the entire way. (We went on the Olympic pennisular side rather than through Seatlle.) Of course we rode down 1 in CA. We pedaled 1,300 miles in 26 days. It was hard work but a blast.

   Using Lightroom and Blurb I made a quick cool book of our journey and lessons learned, and am having some copies printed up for us. But with the push of a button I could make a PDF and free iPad ebook version for easy distribution.

   Take a look:

ebook for iPad:

https://store.blurb.com/ebooks/pe87e9d6246c7f466be74

PDF:

https://cdn.kk.org.s3.amazonaws.com/BikeTrippersPDFfull.pdf

   -KK

What a trip! I love being on the road, the serendipity of it all. Except:

1. I miss home.

2. I run across so much stuff (shoot so many pics, make so many notes) that it’s frustrating not being able to communicate it all. Fragments:

    I’m back home from a doozy of a trip. Left San Luis Obispo around 11 AM Saturday sunny morning, north on Hwy. 1. By the time I got to Cayucos, it was foggy. Ahh! Northern Californian consciousness kicks in. I like the fog (grew up in San Francisco).

My body adores Southern California.

My mind revels in NorCal.

Sirius music was on a roll. Just 2 examples:

-Jimmie Rodgers, Blue Yodel #3: https://grooveshark.com/#!/s/Blue+Yodel+No+3/3WMJfN?src=5

-Muddy Waters backed by the Rolling Stones, Mannish Boy: https://grooveshark.com/#!/search/song?q=rolling+stones+muddy+mannish+boy Oh yeah!

Got to my house (built it in late ’60s). near Esalen. Ehren, the caretaker was there, said I could spend the night. (He lives in a tuned-in tiny home on the road above.

   Ehren is a stone mason, in his 30s, surfer, fisherman, gardener, hunter, explorer. He keeps the house and grounds beautifully. He’s like an extension of and extrapolation on all the things I did or wanted to do when I lived in Big Sur. Cross-generational soul mates.

   We went for a swim in the pool (creek-fed water, no chlorine). Later that afternoon I had a beer at Nepenthe. That night I had dinner at Deetjen’s, by far my favorite inn in all the world, the ambience of the dining room with candles and chamber music as soulful as it was 50 years ago. That night I invoked former-resident executive privilege and got into the hot springs at Esalen. Mmm.

   I’m goin’ home…home, bom bom bom bom bom-bom… 

Above protest scene at Malibu yesterday.

I never travel around California in the summer, so I was surprised and bummed by the tourist/zoo vibe in Pismo Beach. No thanks! (It can be deserted and restful in the winter, plus there are those cinnamon rolls). So onward, and the beach was everywhere overloaded, it being a warm gorgeous blue-sky California day. Knew I had to get inland.

   In all these years, I’ve never been into the actual town of San Luis Obispo, since Hwy 101 skirts it. It was a relief. No tourist madness. It’s a lovely town, a bit of Ojai, a bit of Santa Barbara, a bit of Santa Cruz. Cal Poly has always been my favorite of the state colleges. A tradition of hands-on. Architectural students have to learn how to draw (by hand).

Read More …

I was going over some old files in preparation for working on our new book on 21st century nomadics, and ran across this letter from Serena in Home Work (p.176). It refers to the 37 Chevy flatbed truck converted to a rolling home by Joaquin de la Luz and his wife Gypsy, and featured in Shelter (pp. 90-91), and in later years used as a bedroom by 4-year-old Serena. It was such a nice example of happy childhood memories, I thought I’d reprint it here.

“My earliest memories of the Gypsy Wagon begin when I was three or four years old. At that point, our family had settled down in a little house on the Klamath River, in Northern California. We had all moved out of the Gypsy Wagon but I really missed it. I remember begging my mom and dad to let me use it as my bedroom. Luckily for me, my parents were such free spirits that they could really relate to my independence. The wagon became my room. I have memories of kissing my parents goodnight, leaving the house, and walking to my own little Gypsy Wagon. I had a huge doll that my mom had made for me, named “Howdy Doody.” She made it out of vintage dress fabric, with old mother-of-pearl buttons for the eyes and mouth.  Each night, I’d hoist Howdy Doody over my shoulder (he was bigger than me) and off we’d go. I loved the coziness I felt each night as I climbed into my bed. I remember the beautiful hand construction of the wagon, the texture of the wood, the hinges, and the little window above my bed. Everything about it was so warm. I think what made it so special was that is was filled with good intentions. My parents set out in the Gypsy Wagon because they were peaceful people. Their travels always had the purpose of happiness. The wagon was constructed almost entirely of other people’s discarded junk. My father’s creativity soared as he built it, and my mother made it a home.To this day, I really appreciate the warmth of simple things like old fabric and rusty metal. This is my history, as a child of  free spirits with peace as their purpose. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

   -Serena”