Ode to da Shaggin Wagin (fare thee well)



One of my favorite napping/reading/pondering places recently, down by the Rivanna River here in Charlottesville's Darden Towe Park. Odometer broke at ~247,000 miles, four years ago.

We went on some rolls, me and you lady...camping with the kids, music festivals, parks of all description etc....alas, there was a proper paucity of shagging though. The ladies weren't exactly lining up to go camping with Chef Ted in a 1992 Turtle Top Conversion van...maybe I haven't found the right one yet.



Nary a bite at $2500.00 on Craig's List

So the Subaru sold a few weeks ago and I was down to three keys: two for da Shagin Wagin and one for the former Shimmy club. Everything else I own is in a bank account, in a duffle bag, shipped off to Hawaii, or given away to family, friends or fools. As of today I will have no keys in this earthly world. Meet da Shaggin Wagin (the test rig)

As I signed over the title, I noticed that it was almost four years to the day that I bought her in a Giant grocery store parking lot for $1000 cash from a woman on Craig's list. It was basically the beginning of the adventure that is going to happen Monday morning. I never would have guessed it would have metamorphosed into a tent in an agricultural part of Hawaii, where it rains 100 inches a year, when I wrote my first post Chef Ted Gettin Started

It was to be a test rig to see what it was like to live full time in van/rv. And did I want such a thing for myself? Unlike driving a vintage VW Westfalian van, where the good karma forces everyone to wave, knowingly smile and flash you the peace sign; a middle aged man driving what could be construed as an aging date rape or mobile meth lab van makes you invisible. It also can lead to misunderstandings No Single Diners Except Me and *Her*

It can also lead to uncomfortable nights/beautiful mountain mornings. I remember one chilly fall afternoon a few years ago I ended up as the only camper in a state campground near the Homestead Resort in Hot Springs,Virginia. I built a roaring fire and prepared to grill a 20 oz porterhouse. Because of the time of year and the nature of the holler, it started getting dark at like 4:30. Suddenly the temperature dropped to ~35 degrees and the winds picked up to mini-hurricane force. Branches started falling from the mighty oaks above, some hitting the roof of the camper, splintering into dozens of pieces. The wind bellowed the fire into a blue blow torch. Then the wolves started howling. As far as I know, they were not near by or a threat, but were howling together to imitate the howling winds.

I thought to myself that I was going to set these woods on fire; so with painful regret, I put the fire out. A campfire, at this early hour, is what , 90% of camping? No steak, no fire, branches banging on the roof, wind and wolves howling in harmony...is this what I want for myself?

A quick scan of options revealed a dark and dangerous drive on a tiny road perched precariously above the Jackson river to what, a $400 hotel room at the Homestead 25 slow miles away, or suck it up with a can of tuna, a duck hunting suit for warmth and bed at 6:00 PM? IS THIS WHAT I WANT FOR MYSELF?

I tossed and turned on account of too much sleep, until the slamming of doors woke me up. It was the Homestead van dropping off four distinguished, doctor or lawyer looking men about my age, dressed like they had stepped out of an Abercrombie and Fitch Fly Fishing magazine. As I moved the curtains, the view was Colorado looking Aspen groves on an impossible gushing and deep mountain stream/river.
I pondered that me and the fly fishing group had had quite a different last night; but here we were enjoying the same mountain morning in Hot Springs Virginia. Yes, with a few tweeks, this is what I want for myself.

I really didn't know I had so many friends. Lynn and Russ See Lynn and Russ' Artwork here and Tom and Sylvia stopped by with a Hawaiian bathing suit and some Virginia Hard Cider.

Lynn and Russ are long time friends, neighbors and customers. Sylvia retired from  the University of Virginia Art Department and is a great friend and customer as well. Sylvia, whose wild world wide antics demand a separate blog of their own, is also quite the chef and has a catering business. Well, the new owners of da Shaggin Wagin? Ta-Dah: Tom and Sylvia!

As I bid fare thee well to da Wagin, I think about what I learned on this test run to full timing? Reading is going to be a big part of this frugal and mobile lifestyle. The only place that I could read in a van (also known as a class B rv) like da Wagin was either in the bed or the passenger seat. This sucked in inclement weather. My future home will be a larger class C, which is the kind with the bed over the truck roof. Take out the dinky and uncomfortable dinette and have a carpenter build a computer workstation and add a quality chair chair at the desk for reading indoors. Chair and desk must face a window to properly view wherever I am. A little better gas mileage and a less creepy facade might not hurt either. Thanks for stopping by.