Let there be light (and heat)!

We've fallen behind on blog posts yet again, but of course, you've probably all come to expect that. Our last week and a half in West Glacier was a scramble to finish the projects we wanted to get done on Little Foot, transition our extra belongings into storage in Idaho and wrap up our life there in an effort to prepare to hit the road.

Installing our wood stove was a priority, as it's fairly useless if we can't make a fire in it. Luckily, the box came with two vents in the roof, one of which was conveniently located directly above where the stove would sit, allowing us to run the pipe through it. It was too large for the stove pipe and the deck fitting we already had for it, so there were some alterations and patches that had to be made to accommodate it correctly.

The stove assembled with a piece of galvanized steel beside it that would make the vent hole the correct size.

One of the other biggest (and scariest) projects that we'd been avoided was installing two windows in the side of Little Foot. Our friend (and resident company mechanic) Bill had procured a perfectly sized window from a dumpster a while back. He didn't have a use for it, but couldn't stand to see a perfectly good window go to waste, so when we told him we were on the hunt for a window he handed it over with pride.

The windows were a necessity for us, as the box only has one small one into the cab (only large enough for Loulou our cat to get through) and the two rear ones in the doors that don't open. We wanted more light and more importantly, ventilation.

There was a lot of hemming and hawing initially, wondering if the window was too big, but once we convinced ourselves that any compromising of the box's structure and strength was a problem we'd created in our head, we decided to go for it.

We taped a giant trash bag around the space for the window to contain the mess as we sawed into the side of the box. It worked extremely well.

The first cut is always the scariest.

Our favorite thing about the big window is that it came with textured privacy glass, so other than light and shapes, it's impossible to see into the vehicle. In this photo you can also see a small metal heat shield that we wrapped around the base of the bed for when we lower it when the stove is on or still hot after a recent fire.

The window Bill gave us fit the spot we had for it perfectly. It also reminded us of a smaller version of it that we'd found in the back warehouse of a local RV repair place down in Kalispell. We made a trip back down and grabbed the forgotten and dusty window to install in the side door.

It's amazing the difference a little light can make.

The windows were attached to the box using a handful of screws. A weather-proof seal was created by backing the exterior trim with putty tape before attaching the window frame to the box. After the frame was screwed in, we added liberal amounts of silicon caulk around the edges. So far, watertight! (On the bigger window, we even went so far as to get a length of rv rain gutter to install above it and avoid whatever extra runoff onto the seal we could. The window on the side door is already protected by the rain gutter for the door that was already on the vehicle.)

Two weeks later…we've made HUGE progress!

Sorry for the nearly two weeks in delayed posts, but we've made HUGE progress and it's time to update! I got punched in the chest with a massive cold a week and a half ago, which took me out of circulation for literally anything beyond a quick get-out-of-bed-and-critique-Christian's-carpentry-skills-and-decisions before I circled back into bed and under the influence of cold and cough medicine.

Hiding spot!

That being said, Christian made a ton of great progress while I was under the weather and when I was finally able to muster up enough energy to be upright for more than ten minutes, we started screaming through the build together.

Bedside clothing storage.

A very specific fire was lit under us when we got word that the potential buyer we'd been in touch with about Stubbs the Bus was coming out to visit on the 13th, so we knew we wanted to be well on our way to moving into Little Foot by then.

More hiding spots!

Our big projects to complete to get it move-in-ready were the storage on the driver's side of the bed for our clothing and the kitchen shelves/storage area. We built a shelf that would be the perfect depth for those standard fabric boxes you can buy at Walmart, thinking they'd be the perfect solution for clothing storage.

The same bedroom clothing storage, nearly installed.

The kitchen was mostly just a series of shelves with some slide-out counter space. The upper part is the backing of the shelving unit for our clothing storage beside the bed.

Kitchen, sliding spaces hidden.

Kitchen, sliding spaces exposed.

With the bed folded down into the "sleeping" position, the shelf looked great and it was all starting to come together.

A big finishing touch we needed to get done before moving in was painting all the wood. We opted to not go with stain because we would've needed more than one step (stain, sand, stain, sand, polyurethane…) to make it look like we would want it to, and we didn't get great quality of wood, so it wouldn't have turned out amazingly clean looking. Our other option was paint, and I'd had my heart set on a color since we were leaving the box interior the stark white that it came to us in. We considered grey for a heartbeat, but in the end navy blue won out. However, if you've ever been paint shopping, you know that there are hundreds of different shades of each color, so we didn't know how to narrow down our navy choice after staring at paint chips in the stores. Luckily, one of them was named Epic Adventure, so our decision was made for us.

After painting the shelf I was fairly convinced I'd made a huge color choice mistake. 

After the whole structure was painted, I was equal parts disappointed and optimistic that I could save it with filling it with our stuff. Choosing colors is tough.

I'm still of the opinion that it might be a little light for my taste and that stain might have suited it better, but it's done and painted now, so the would've could've should've's get to be buried as we continue the project with it coated in Epic Adventure blue. 

Super cheap tension-rod-and-brace storage solution. Remember kids, always rig to drive.

Beginning to load our stuff into Little Foot really made a difference. As soon as we put some fabric cubes and books into the shelves we noticed it starting to feel less "cartoony" and more homey. I may always regret my paint color choice just a little, but it'll have to do.

One of the coolest things about the box that is on our Pinzgauer is that it was originally a workshop for the Swiss Army. It was originally filled to the brim with shelving and drawers, many of which actually ended up in our hands when we purchased it. We couldn't stand to not reuse some of the original drawers, so we have slowly been finding ways to incorporate them within our structure.

Even more hiding spots!

So we've made progress but nothing is anywhere near done yet. We know we're halfway through the build marathon, and there will be more later. Stay tuned!

You meet the nicest people on Craigslist.

Last week we left you on a bit of a cliff-hanger; lets pick up where we left off. We rolled into Portland's Union station about 15 minutes early, which was good because we figured we needed every second to secure funds to make our next greatest-ever purchase. 

We were busy, but we had time to snap some quick shots. Union station is beautiful.

Chelsea looked remarkably good for spending a night in a train seat. I didn't.

We played physical sudoku on a board Chels picked up at a curiosities store down the block from the bank. Only in Portland?

We hailed a cab real fast and drove a few miles away to a Wells Fargo bank. The daily manager, Mr. Trevor, was BEYOND helpful. We were there from just after open until just after closing (on a Saturday!) trying to manage access to some of our funds at a different state in a different bank, but alas, it didn't work out. We knew we would be heading to meet a gentleman by the name of Toby to discuss our purchase of a Swiss Army Pinzgauer truck at 2 o'clock when the bank closed, but we also knew we wouldn't have the cash in hand to buy it. The bank could process our request first thing on Monday, but that was two days away. We shrugged, phoned Toby, and (unbeknownst to us) started a GREAT weekend away.

Toby and I (and one of Toby's neighbors who is looking under the truck) checking out the Pinzguaer.

So much shop talk. SO much learning. I was/am in heaven.

It drives like a completely mechanical Austrian army truck. OHMYGOSHSOMUCHFUN.

Toby picked us up from the bank after waiting for ages. We were very afraid we were shooting his weekend in the foot, and man we felt bad, but he was cool as a cucumber. Over the course of the afternoon (and then the weekend!) Toby told us all about his Pinzgauer.

A Pinzgauer is a breed of Swiss cow, but more importantly, its a highly capable off-road vehicle built by the Steyr-Puch company for the Swiss and Austrian Militaries. They are commonly 4x4s and more rarely 6x6s, and originally powered by air-cooled gas engines, but more recently by turbo-diesels. We found a 1982 6x6 with a rare "workshop" fiberglass box attached to the back listed for sale a few weeks ago. After doing some research and realizing what a find it was, we spent every subsequent day thereafter talking ourselves into and out of buying it. Long story short, it's got low miles, great tires, and a fiberglass house/box on the back. Its drivetrain is designed to be both sturdy and serviceable, it has reasonable gas milage, terrific clearance, and incredible traction. It's well designed, over built, and underused, and that's why we're planning on taking it overland from here as far south as we can go. Mexico? Central America? Tierra Del Fuego? Who knows.

We were sold, and Toby liked the number Chelsea and I offered him (third offer; we totally lowballed the poor guy at first and he took it in stride). The only problem was, we didn't have the cash to back up our talk. All three of us were sitting on the curb thinking when Toby's wonderful wife Nicole walked up (after chasing their dog around the block, whom we had let out of the house by accident). Toby glanced at her sideways, saying something about us finding a hostel, and she cut him off saying:

"Of course they can stay with us."

That's me on the left, Maya the pate queen in the center, and Nicole in the striped pullover on the right.

The symphony plays in the distance as Toby and I talk shop about Swiss/Austrian trucks.

The rose garden went nearly completely unappreciated that night. Portland's parks (or at least this one) are beautiful.

What unfolded over the following two days was the most wonderful weekend away that we didn't know we desperately needed. Nicole and Toby kicked off our weekend with a free symphony concert at a nearby park. We had a charcuterie plate that rivaled the offerings of a fine restaurant, homemade pâté, fresh fruit, fresh bread, and fresh beverages. It was freshly excellent. We met some more new friends, and learned that the next day (Sunday) would feature a full-on brunch, and eventually went back to Toby and Nicole's house, fat and happy.

Measuring and dreaming.

It has levers! And Rifle holders! (We actually removed the rifle racks and donated them back to Toby, who will be able to use in another vehicle of his.)

This is about as "American Beauty" as I get.

Here I am checking one of the ELEVEN fluid levels in the drive train. ELEVEN. That's one more than 10.

The next morning we got acquainted with our new vehicle; Chels started taking measurements of the box and organizing a small portion of its orignial interior outfitting, and I started checking and filling its 11 chambers of gear oil in the drive train (six portal axles, three differentials, a transfer case and a transmission). Toby and Nichole's neighbors are awesome, and we eventually had an audience of onlookers. Apparently Toby's eccentric vehicles are no new thing to his neighbors. We worked for hours, but in the early afternoon we were pulled from our pursuits to have the most outstanding brunch ever.

You're looking at Halibut Cheeks, eggs, fried zucCHinis, fresh fruit, and a newborn dutch baby. Don't worry, the Bubbly is on the Table.

I am a huge fan of strangers. (sorry for the mishapen heads…panos don't always play well with moving objects)

Straight up: brunch was nearly as excellent as the Pinzgauer parked out front. The whole conversation, hours of it, was spent on talking about traveling. From Asia to South America to Europe, it turns out we had found some new, very well-traveled friends. I left knowing two things: Halibut cheeks are superb, and there is a beat-up motorcycle named "The Chupacabra" that I need to rescue in Panama. Hopefully both topics will feature in further posts.

Reading up on important stuff.

We acted like good gelato wasn't a big thing for us. Its a big thing for us.

Walrus time!

Later that evening Toby and Nicole took us on a tour of downtown Portland. We hit up Powell's used book store (you gotta go) and then Pinolo Gelato, and man they both were amazing. Check 'em out. We bought a book on camping, seeing as we'll be doing only that once we move into the Pinzgauer full time and start traveling.

Amazing food. New Friends. Austrian/Swiss vehicles. Really well designed furniture. God, is this heaven?

Just killer food. Nicole can cook.

Dinner was as good as brunch. more Halibut (yessssss!) more fresh bread, more delicious salads, all set before a fantastic backdrop of European design, retro American art, and Austrian vehicles. I want to take this moment to well and truly thank Toby and Nicole. You two are unparalleled in the world of my travels. I sincerely hope we can stay friends, if only for more of Nicole's cooking.

Happy dance at a rest stop!

The next (Monday) morning, Chels and I ran to the bank and waited eagerly for them to unlock the door. We secured some funds, took some selfies, packed the Pinz and headed off for 600+ miles of straight driving back to the headquarters of Montana Raft Company. We both had work the next day, and couldn't dilly-dally. We would have loved to stop along the shores and vineyards of the Columbia river valley, or explore some of the side towns and rivers, but alas, those weren't on the docket for today. We had to boogie.

If you don't need hearing protection when you drive, you're driving the wrong vehicle.

Toby was with us every step of the way. (That's him on the phone with me as I attempt to mess with the timing.)

We drove and drove and drove, until I heard a rattle that I couldn't ignore. Something didn't sound right about the Pinz, but it may have been the hours and hours of driving ringing in my ears. I phoned Toby to rule out the possibility of pre-ignition (pinging can damage an engine fast), and we decided everything was probably OK. With a little confidence, we drove on into the night.

11 is a lucky number. Always stop/pump at lucky number gas pumps. Its doesn't cost extra.

Where is that rattle???

We drove further until the rattle darn near drove me nuts. I couldn't imagine that the sound I was hearing wasn't causing trouble, so Chels and I took the seats out (so easy) and removed the doghouse covering the engine (also easy) to make a diagnosis. It's real nice having the engine in the cab because it's totally covered and you can work on it from a standing position. We figured out that the only belt on the engine was vibrating laterally under a specific RPM, and probably needs replaced, but luckily it could wait until West Glacier.

As we were waiting, a gentleman by the name of Steve Hannah walked up to us, blown away by the coolness of the Pinzgauer. I was tired, beat up, and a little scared that the truck I had just spent a lot of money buying was already rattling itself apart. That attitude didn't last for long, as Steve bombarded us with compliments and positivity. In a kinda dark moment, Steve was the kick in the pants we needed. He told us that we gave him his biggest smile in five years, and kept exclaiming, 'Who does that?," but not in a condescending, parental, critical kind of way. His cries were those of someone who understood what we were doing, and loved it, but loved it in a way of just now realizing that a dream could come true. 

And so that's that. Our dream is to drive all over the place. We want to travel overland, for a long time, cheaply. We don't need a $350,000 EarthRoamer or custom Unimog. We need a sturdy truck and pocketful of dreams, and now we have both.

Give it all up and adventure all over the world. Who does that? We do, and so can you.