camping in the van

Where do you park?  I get this question a lot.  The photos below are of the most beautiful place I've found yet.

Isn't that the best campsite ever!

I'm really into all the mushrooms.

it looks like there's a slug picnic happening!

a great place to take a swim after class.

I'm back at Heartwood taking Comprehensive Homebuilding.  I think I love stick framing!

scribed timber framing class--we built this

An earlier Heartwood class built the earth oven.  We built the structure supporting a future roof over the oven.  We learned how to incorporate natural timbers, including one piece that was a cherry tree one morning and went into the frame in the afternoon.

I'll be back at Heartwood next week for comprehensive homebuilding.  We are building a tiny home.

van pictures

I'm in Massachusetts now for my scribed timber framing class.  But right now I have some van pictures.

After the sink area and the shelf for crates, the third built-in item is a box/seat with a hinged lid.  It  contains the wheel well bump so is convenient for storing the bedding, hammock, and curtains.  

  

I may eventually add some cushions here.  It's almost big enough to be a bed, but I am sleeping in the hammock so I don't really need a bed. 

Next up:  My solar recharging lamp.  It looks like a large glass jar but the top is a small solar panel and under the lid are 4 LED lights.  If I charge it long enough in the direct sun during the day I can get a few hours of light each night.  It's great and I have positioned a few eye hook screws in the ceiling for hanging.

Finally, my little kitchen is in use!  As you can see the water dispenser is positioned for its job as a faucet.  I located powdered milk (whole, not skim) before leaving NJ.  That's my coffee creamer.

So here's the all-important coffee set up.  Boil water on camp stove (have good ventilation).

Not pictured:  coffee sock.  Scoop in some grounds, add boiled water.  Let steep, then lift the sock.  Here's coffee.  Just add sugar and powdered milk.  Not bad!

I purchased a safe for storing valuables like my computer.  So far it hasn't been necessary but maybe I'll be glad I had it.  It's secured to the floor.

And because I ran out of time, this is my tool storage set up.  Just totes sitting on the floor, sliding back and forth a little as I drive.

kitchen area

My computer time lately has been dominated by craigslist posts, selling many things in preparation for moving.  Hence my camera is full of photos of furniture and household goods, and I've been on a hiatus from van thinking.  

Today I managed to get out there to work on the third built in item.  But for now here are photos of the kitchen area.  Countertop is completed!

I LOVED carving the countertop edge with my chisel.  I need to get a good detail shot of what the effect is. 

I also used the chisel to carve the opening for the sink.  That was the fun part.

The not fun part was removing paint from the middle board.  In an effort to use up my various collected scraps of wood--I've been making do with all sorts of wood in various conditions.  The rough surface reveals a mighty struggle against a painted surface that we scraped off in what turned into a battle of the wills.

I think the final result is unconventional but wonderful.

Securing the countertop to the structure was another wild ride.  I worked my way underneath, grateful I don't have man-sized shoulders.  Then I drilled straight up, with wood particles raining down on my safety-glass protected eyes, into my clothes and hair.

I have new respect for plumbers, and people who do things underneath things.  Mechanics.

The counter and sink are secure.  I had envisioned lots of built-in storage above the sink but the two crates below will do for now.

Thanks for reading!  It's fun to know people are following along.  I was hanging out in the van tonight, resting in the hammock.  I have a little solar light that casts a lovely glow on the wooden walls.  The hammock swings gently.  I am growing to love my little home.  It's amazing how different it feels in there now that the surfaces are wood instead of metal.

shelves

I am starting to really like how the van is looking.  

Beautiful wood curls.  Sort of an annoying reason why I have to chisel away at the floor.  

I bought 1/2 inch thick planks for the floor but chose to use 3/4 inch thick scraps of wood that I already had for the edges where I'd have to scribe around the wheel wells.  Hence 3/4 - 1/2 = 1/4 inch ledge that becomes annoying when you try to slide a crate into a shelf unit.  So I did penance for my mistake, as I have done so many times in this project.  I am learning.

Next up:  kitchen countertop.  I'll save it for the next post.

things I'm learning

1.  Don't assume the van is a rectangular box.  It is not!

2.  Things that don't look impressive to others look amazing to me.  Because it was so hard to achieve?  Or because I have a vision and the vision is part of what I'm seeing.

3.  I learn well when working on my own.  If I was doing this alongside a more experienced person I'd just defer to them and ask them for help.  I can ask Adam for input but being in charge of this project myself is the best way for me to learn.

4.  I am ridiculously excited about the lap joints in this kitchen unit.  (See to either side of the top of the lower crate.)  Simpler than a mortise & tenon.  Achieved with a japanese hand saw and a chisel.  Then glued & nailed.

5.  I am discovering that this is really hard, but that I LOVE doing this.  And that no one can tell me how to be the type of woodworker that I am.  I have to uncover my unique identity through much suffering, anxiety, discouragement, self-criticism, followed by euphoric thrilled feeling when my idea FINALLY works!

van update

I got the van back from the body shop.  The floor has been patched & repaired.  I have painted the floor too so it looks a LOT better.

I am going to keep an eye on this to make sure no more rust develops.

Then I got to work installing paneling on the walls and ceiling.

I am loving how it looks.

The guy who patched the floor installed a ceiling vent for me also.  It has a small screen and hatch that can open & close.

Here's a detail showing insulation around the wheel well.

Foam board was my choice as it won't hold moisture.  Notice my classy patching together of scraps.

floor update

Here are some pictures of my process of creating the wood floor for the van.  I cut up a yoga/camping mat and stapled little foam squares to the underside of the boards to prevent the wood from clattering on metal.  Here are the support boards laid out.

horizontal supports for the floor.

Scribing the boards to fit around the wheel wells and gas tank intake was challenging and time consuming but I figured it out, which was very satisfying.

I even made the floor in such a way that it can be removed, which is good for now since I'm doing nasty rust removal and very fumey painting after that.

After a long day of work I put up my hammock to rest and think about the next steps.  I also put my little wooden bench and some crates in there as trial furniture to get a sense of the space.

I love wood!  The floor transforms the feel of the van.

progress report

I'm working on a van to live in while I travel.

One reason I bought it was because there was very little rust in the back.

Then I take up the floor mats in front of the drivers seat.  Behold this mess!

yikes!!

I'm really glad I looked.  The rest of the front area isn't this bad.  I can remove the rust with a wire brush and paint with rustoleum.  But this section?  I'll have to take it to an autobody shop for a patch job.

Ah well.  I'm working on installing wood flooring in the back of the van.  Nothing else will do for a woodworker.  I'm not sure I'll do the butterfly joints I mentioned in the last post.  Let's see what happens.  I'm scribing boards around the wheel wells and the gas tank.  The center should be easier.  More photos to come.

butterfly joint

Source

Nakashima made these famous.  I want to try them.  A nice alternative to gluing, or doweling.  The butterfly key joins two boards edge to edge.

I'm putting a wood floor in my van.  Do you think I can pull this off?  An advantage is that I can remove the key later to disassemble the planks.   And if I use a contrasting hardwood, it will look cool.  Even if I don't do a perfect joinery job.

I am so excited!!  Yess!! So much more elegant than purchasing a $65 doweling jig and dowels.  Of course it's a japanese concept.  And...visible joinery is more honest than hidden joinery.

I love how scratched and worn the wood is in this photo.  Using a butterfly key for a completely humble and utilitarian purpose.  Rather than on a fancy lacquered table that costs $5000.

I'm still nervous about my planks not being flat.  I will choose very carefully!  And I'll use my new Japanese plane (if I have it by then).

moving fluff mystery

First you spot a little pile of fluff in the back yard.

Then you notice that the pile of fluff is moving.  Or to be more accurate, jumping.

What the heck?  Carefully prod, probe, lift the pile of fur...

A baby bunny nest!

Six baby bunnies in a little hole in the earth.  Squirming, jumping, jostling each other.  It's so astonishingly beautiful that we can't stop peeking under the jumping pile of fur.  Little hearts, little ears, little tails of softness, nestled together.

Oh, and they have this rattly little grunting sound.  Impossible.  How is this real?

KitoBito: Wooden Kitchens in Japan

All photos from Remodelista

Built to last lifetimes--all wood joinery.  And minimal style.

I'd like to do something along these lines.  Not exactly the same, but this is just breathtaking.  I like the aesthetic.  Have less, of superior quality.  The peace and serenity is what it's all about.

There is less cabinetry here than is found in most traditional (American, or Western) kitchens.  And it's of the highest quality, hand made of oak, with mortise & tenon joinery.  You can see some of the joinery in the drawer below:

The kitchen below speaks to me of mindfulness and clarity, two qualities I aspire to.

That feeling after the dishes are washed and put away.

I think these makers understand that sort of deep peace.

And I would like to make shelves like the one above.  I have several and they can alter a space.  Or be an altar.  Not a lot of furniture, but it does a lot of work, just perching on a wall.



KitoBito means "trees and people"--I love that--and is owned by Masayuki Yoneto (above, center).

I love solid wood simple cabinets and open shelves.  These guys are doing this to the very highest level of craftsmanship, and yet their designs are uncluttered.  Lots of minimal (looking) cabinetry is made from pressboard, plywood, or plastic veneer.  What these makers are doing combines minimalism with honest wood and craft.

As a result, they create peaceful spaces.  

feeling the earth

One of the cravings I have is to get a feel our planet in a very first hand way, by touch, with my feet, even by traveling in a vehicle, but in such a way that I have time to form first hand sense impressions.

When I first used google earth to "fly" over continents I was ecstatic.  It's the same experience I've had in dreams.  That's the experience I want to have in life.  To feel the earth, and to feel my place in it.  When I see a bird swooping, I see the air lifting it up.  I want the earth to lift me up.  Smells and rain and soil and leaves to lift me up, to carry me along as I walk across a continent.  To know the earth and my place in it.

Tonight I laid in our back yard, watching the tree tops sway in the evening as bright green afternoon faded to dark of night.  Twigs in the dirt poked my back.  Bugs landed on me.

What is it to be alive?  What are the limits of a human lifetime?  What is it possible to experience in 2015?  Unanswered questions--the train is leaving the station, to explore.

japanese planes

Photo by MAFE

A Japanese plane at its simplest is a blade in a block of wood.  The planes above have a second blade (a chip breaker) and a bar to hold the chip breaker.

I'm getting a gradual introduction to Japanese woodworking.  I've had a Japanese saw for some time.  It's lightweight and has a removable handle.

Robert LaPorte of Econest (where I'm taking a class this fall) recommended I visit Yann Giguere of Mokuchi who has a shop in Brooklyn.  I went last week, and hope to return for a more in depth class on setting up and tuning a Japanese Plane (chisels too).  Finding out about how Japanese planes work is initially intimidating.  I have a book that gave me some basic information.

Fortunately I was able to follow up my reading with a visit to a gentleman nearby who showed me that it's not as scary as it all sounds.  I'm warming up to the idea of planing on the pull.

...

I feel like this part of my life is about learning and gathering from various disciplines and identifying what aligns with the un-excavated vision within me.  I don't really have a choice about what I do, if I listen to the voice within.  I like making simple furniture, and I like hand tools.  I'm going to chase Japanese woodworking for a while.  I'm continuing with timber framing.  I'm taking a home building course this summer too.  All are slightly different.  I'm hoping I come away with a perspective that is my own, when I put it all together.

one room wide

A couple of weeks ago I attended a conference on historic barns in Bucks County, Pennsylvania.  A bunch of traditional timber framers and I all rode buses to visit a number of beautiful timber framed barns.

As we rode, we also saw many beautiful old stone houses.  Many of the houses were one room wide.

I reflected that many of the dwellings that have moved me and remained in my memory are one room wide.  In a house that is one room wide, you feel the house sheltering you.  You can see out windows in all directions, and the slant of the roof above you also gives a special feeling.

This may be part of the reason that small houses charm us more than small ones.  It's good to be able to feel the shape of the walls that protect you.  You can see that many of the houses I've saved here are small, and possibly one room wide most of the time.

What other qualities that make our hearts sing when we see a magic cottage?

be grounded

which can sometimes mean, lay on the ground, look at the sky.

(when you get up, sometimes there are leaves stuck to your hat)

trail of the cedars in glacier national park

Maybe 10 years ago my brother & I camped in Glacier National Park.  We did a little back country camping (my first and only experience camping out of a backpack instead of a tent).  We saw a bear.

One of the trails we hiked was so memorable that I am hoping to return to it.  By chance an internet search helps me to find it--Trail of the Cedars.  Not too far from the parking area, we came across these stream-carved channels in the rock.  I'm thrilled to have found a photograph, since I can't seem to locate my own.

It's not the same as the photograph in my mind.  But without the name of the trail, I would have a tough time getting back there.

Are there beautiful places in your mind that you want to return to?

more magic

This house is pictured in Lloyd Kahn's book Tiny Homes: Simple Shelter.  I devoured this book over a year ago so I'm not remembering the details of the story around this house.   The house is in British Columbia and those are whale bones.   

Here is an article from Mother Earth News about Lloyd and the book.  I also enjoy reading his blog.

Nuala O'Faolain's magic cottage

I'm reading "Are You Somebody", a memoir by Nuala O'Faolain.  The writing is rich--it gives you a sense of the texture of an Irish life in the 60's and 70's.

Halfway through the book, I came across a passage that brought me to a stop.  I read it over and over, and bent the page corner, and came back to it again.  Nuala would visit her boyfriend's home on weekends.  After a work week, she'd take the train north out of London, and get off at a quiet platform in a village.  He would step out of the little pub to meet her.

We'd buy our take-away bottles and head off.  We went home by a pathway along the edge of the fields, then by the side of a thick beech wood, and then we ducked into the wood and went across the soft forest floor, parting the boughs until we came out in a clearing in the middle of the wood, and there, in a patch of grass, like a thing of magic, stood the cottage.

Every season was beautiful.  In the spring there was a sea of bluebells under the sharp sweet green of the new beech leaves.  In summer the golden cubes of straw glowed in the stubble fields and the woods were blackish-green.  In autumn, the searchlights of ferris-wheel havesters played and replayed on the blank wall of the trees as they whirled and thumped up and down the big fields, chewing up whole pea plants and spitting the mulch out behind.  Winter was the most wonderful of all.  First there was a season when the leaves fell so thickly in the wood that there was silence.  The mist rolled up from the estuary and the bare twigs of the trees were covered in a cold sweat.  Then it would freeze, and when we came out of the pub and started along the path to home we'd be breaking the skin of ice that had begun to form on the puddles when it got dark.  We'd turn into the skeletal woods.  And there, in its little clearing crisp with frost, would be our cottage, the light glowing from the warm kitchen, the dinner ready in the stove.  We had no bathroom, no television, no telephone.  We had everything.

Nuala shares that although the relationship with this man was at times one of disagreement, that the year that they shared in this cottage was a year "of great happiness".  That rings true to me.  A house like this one sends peace deep into your bones.  It's solidly rooted in a place of beauty, and a profound sense of rest settles over you, grounds you, makes you unshakeable.

This passage paints a clear picture for me.  I don't want to include a photograph to interfere with your mental image.  All I know is I believe the world would be a better place if we humans had safe, warm bungalows to return to at night, with the feeling of security that this can not be taken from me.  Put that cottage deep in a beech forest.  "We had everything."  This is contentment, this is peace.