Taos, NM

Taos was not on my original list. It rates poorly for crime, employment, cost of living, housing availability, and schools. It's also quite far from a "major" airport (3 hours; Albuquerque, NM) and 1.5 hours to a "major" city, if you can call Santa Fe even a city. Maybe it's just nostalgia, but, it was the first place we've visited where I got a whisper of the "this is it" feeling I'm hoping to have when we find my just right.

On a whim, we detoured through Taos on our way between Las Cruces, NM and Gunnison, CO. Based on recommendations from friends, we spent the day near the Taos Junction Bridge and the evening at Black Rock Hot Springs. Based on my childhood memories, we ate breakfast at Michael's Kitchen and had a good laugh at the waitress' comment that "now's the time to rob a bank" (there were over a dozen sheriff office and police officers having a Thursday morning meal). We worked from Kit Carson Memorial Park and after work I went to the Taos Museum, Taos Food Co-Op, Reneux Consignment, and Made in New Mexico (family, expect some NM-based Christmas gifts this year). 

What was most inspiring about Taos was the nearby Earthship community. Cameron and I often dream about our hypothetical future commune and have had the term "Earthship" floating in the back of our minds. Seeing these beautiful and artistic "self-sufficient off-grid buildings that work in harmony with natural phenomena" (from the Earthship Biotecture pamphlet) helped solidify this dream. Not only does Taos offer a physical manifestation of my dream lifestyle, there are huge plots of land (dozens of acres) available at a reasonable price. It's still not cheap – to buy the 65-acre plot of land that's currently being advertised would prevent us from also immediately buying/building a house, but we could just continue to live out in the van until we could save up again.  

The Good

• It's well positioned between my parents and my sister, which is the main reason we stopped by for this impromptu visit. 
• It's a small town with a vibrant culture. "Taos is Art" is posted on the street-side flag banners, and the town lived it! As a nice pairing, there are lots of restaurants, including my childhood favorites: Michael's Kitchen and Taos Pizza Out Back. 
• The fact that those two restaurants are still around seems like a good sigh. The town survived the pandemic (I didn't notice any closed-up storefronts) and was self-sufficient enough to last without regular tourism funding. 
• Connecting to the last two points, there seems to be the right amount of tourism: enough to bring in funding and maintain high-end options, but not so overrun that it's not too expensive to live and it hasn't lost it's individual flair. Within two blocks of the main downtown there were Laundromats, cannabis shops, and a feed store; for those who don't want to depend on the co-op, there's a Smith's; and there are large agricultural plots across the street from next-to-downtown residential neighborhoods. 
• Housing prices span a wide range, and large desirable plots of land are available and affordable. 
• The climate is pleasant year-round and Taos Ski Valley is a world-class high-elevation resort. 
• It's a good location for commune living, and it would be nice to have "the world's largest self-sufficient residential development" nearby to learn from (or perhaps join). 

The Bad

• Taos is remote and not easy to get to. The regional airport only flys to four cities (in TX and CA) and it would be a shame to have to make a big hoopla every time we want to visit our Washington-based family. 
• While a population of almost-6,000 felt comfortable, it may feel too small given that there's nothing else nearby. I've gotten rather comfortable with living in or near a city. Maybe after living in an off-grid community, the less-than-6,000-people population of Taos would feel like a bigger town.

The Verdict

Yes! Taos may have jumped to the number one spot to-date (on my list; Cameron claims he's still leaving the top slot open). My childhood memories may be foggy, but I remember loving Taos in the winter, our fall visit has been beautiful, and from what I can research online, spring and summer are also quite pleasant. 

Did I like Taos so much that I bought a local artist's rendition of the Rio Grande Gorge in the hopes that I will someday hang it inside my future home along said gorge? Maybe. 

The Earthships are amazing – they are largely built out of recycled materials and are fully self-sufficient.

 

Glass bottles and tires are standard building materials. The irregular materials make them exceedingly unique and beautiful. 

Solar, wind, and water are all collected for energy and other household needs (like heating and cooling).

Based on their website, you can pay for an expert to build one for you, or you can buy the blueprints and build it yourself. If we get serious about this plan (and I think we might), we likely will attend some of their classes before setting out to build our own Earthship-inspired home. 

Taos is surrounded by interesting landscapes. We spent a day alongside the Rio Grande Gorge. Being from Las Cruces, I'm used to almost nonexistent mucky brown water being labeled as "the Rio Grande," but up here the river was full, blue, and beautiful. 

On the opposite side of the Gorge are the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, which house Taos Ski Valley and Wheeler Peak, New Mexico's highest point (13,167').

Although largely shrub brush, there is a fair amount of vegetation diversity housed between the rocky cliffs and mountains. 

I really enjoyed breakfast at Michael's Kitchen, and I loved people watching. The older man at the front of this picture appeared to have brought his own McDonald's coffee and sugar-free syrup. He's clearly a regular, since the wait staff seemed to all know him personally, and he was quite chummy with the police officers who were sitting nearby. 

Parks, playgrounds, and recycled materials all bode well in my book. 

We were not the only van dwellers hunkered down at Kit Carson Memorial Park that day. I'm not sure how to interpret that, but I hope it means that Taos is welcoming to a diverse crowd. 

"Taos is Art" was boasted around town, and was reinforced by lots of galleries, museums, and odd-ball seemingly independent displays like this one.  

I spent a few hours in the Taos Museum, which highlighted the work of two artists. 

The main museum's interior preserved the layout and woodwork of Nicolai Fechin. It was gorgeously done, and expanded my wish list for my dream house interior. 

I liked that  downtown Taos was not just one main street. There seemed to be many alleys and plazas, some of them walking only, that housed the many one-of-a-kind shops and restaurants.  

If I had to label one area as the primary downtown hub, it would be Taos Plaza. It somehow managed to feel simultaneously lively and quaint. And being New Mexico, of course there were chilies hanging up as decoration. 

Another part of Taos' charm was the intermingling of business, residential, and agricultural spaces. 

Van Life: Long Drives and Long Parks

Due to a series of unrelated events culminating in a 21-day hike in California, we had a long distance to cover in a short amount of time. Correction: Cameron had a long distance to cover in a short amount of time. He drove from Chicago, IL to Las Cruces, NM in five days all by himself, including a 1.5 day layover in Lexington, KY. We’ve both, at various time, had to take the van on small solo drives, but never more than a half day of running errands. Cameron came across some unexpected differences on his 1900-mile solo trip:

1. Multitasking is not an option. If you need to grab something from the back of the van, are trying to eat a quick meal, or look at what viable stops are nearby requires a pull-over to the side of the road. You are at the mercy of the roads before you can find a place to stop and figure things out.
2. No copilot means more chores. Dinner decisions, cooking, dish washing, changing the litter box, etc.
3. It’s more scary to push your limits as far as overnight stops. Cameron mostly stayed at iOverlander-approved rest stops, but for the last night ended up at an abandoned burnt-out gas station in the middle of nowhere along the border of Texas and New Mexico. He said it was cool, but a little unnerving.
4. The rabbit is a better companion and a good excuse to pull over and take a rest from driving for 20-30 minutes.
5. With just one person, the gray tank doesn’t fill as quickly so there are fewer mental calculations needed to take an in-van shower.

Maybe those aren’t the most monumental changes, but I really appreciate that Cameron took that on so that we could continue (together) for an additional 18 hours to Yosemite National Park. That 18-hour drive was our first trip sans-rabbit. There were times that I missed her, but we were so focused on our destination that it was good we didn’t have to worry about her needs. The only real difference is not having to have the AC going when we leave the van. 

Curry Village’s backpackers’ parking lot was to become the resting stop for Vanjie for the next 3 weeks. The amount of time isn’t on its own a particularly alarming worry – many people leave their vehicles in the same long-term parking lot – but not being able to monitor the van made us a little concerned. For one, bears are a major nuisance in that part of Yosemite. If there is any food views or scents emanating from your vehicle, it is possible that you’ll return to a ripped off door. We hadn’t planned well ahead of time, so while some of our pantry good fit inside a bear-safe cooler, the rest was packed into a standard-but-flimsy plastic organizing box.

There were a few things we needed to transfer to the refrigerator because we thought the smells might be too pungent (such as my fancy beet and black pepper drinking vinegar). We had already planned to keep the fridge turned on; Cameron had calculated that there should be plenty of battery, supplemented by ongoing solar power, to keep it running. We disconnected the car entertainment system from the battery and disconnected the routers. Nothing else needed ongoing power, but I still was worried that somehow we’d drain the car’s battery, like had happened in our early days of van ownership.

We shut off the water pump and closed off the water manifolds. We also moved all of the stove fuel outside of the van (we didn’t want a heat-related explosion, so we tucked the canisters behind one of the wheels) and we ensured all of our trash was dumped. We neglected to drain the urine tank, which I only realized a few days into our backpacking adventure. Only after returning to the van 3 weeks later, we realized we should have also drained the drinking water. 

Once the window covers were up, there was nothing left to do but wait and see how it held up upon our return. Along the hike, I imagined we’d return to big bear scratches, a missing door, or simply no van at all (the park will have vehicles towed if they are inviting bear activity). Even if the van was there, would the inside reek of sewage or would there be some sort of internal explosion? I’m happy to report that the van was in good condition, it did not stink (although it was pretty hot inside), and our stashed fuel cans were still there. The only light concern was that the water tank tasted a little tainted, but we’ll give it a good cleaning relatively soon.

All of the worry was worth having our house and all of our possessions accessible at the end of the trip. To be able to grab fresh clothes (including underwear!) and grab a cold drink after a 260-mile hike was amazing! Also having a place to dump our heavy backpacks while we explored Yosemite Valley was unexpectedly delightful. This is not the first time where I’ve been happy that my vehicle has all of my possessions after a trip, but this was definitely the most benefit we’ve gotten from that reality. 

There she is – Vanjie with Half Dome in the background.

And then almost 3 weeks later – the sunset from the top of Half Dome. 

Having my full wardrobe accessible was so nice. I went from this (grimy sweaty clothes that hadn't been properly washed in weeks)...

...to this! You might not see a difference but I felt a huge improvement!

Post-backpacking van life is great, but backpacking prep van life is less than ideal. I'm used to having a large dining room table and living room floor to use for food prep. We had to make do with various campground picnic tables. 

Instead of an indoor laundry rack, I used this tree to hold our clothes while I sprayed them with pre-trip bug protection. 

Flagstaff, AZ

Cameron and I have been in and out of Flagstaff a lot in the past few years. Mostly for weddings (the majority of my extended family lives in Flag), but I was also there for my grandmother's memorial service last December and we used Flag as our pitstop between New Mexico and California on our way to backpack the John Muir Trail. This visit, we finally took some time to assess Flag as a contender for the Goldilocks Project.

While there, we visited the Labor Day "Art in the Park" fair, walked and shopped around downtown, drove to Snowbowl, ate at Wildflower and Aspen Deli, meandered around a nature park that connects into the greater urban trail system, and, or course, spent time with my family. Past visits to Flagstaff have included a trip to Walnut Canyon (just me), a stopover on the way to the Grand Canyon (just Cameron), and more visits to various parks and restaurants. 

The Good

• Family. My Flagstaff family is great and really well connected. I've never lived close to extended family, and it's fascinating to see how interconnected they are and how Cameron and I would potentially fit into that. Having a Labor Day potluck and my aunt and uncle's house gave a peek into that window.  
• A big focus on the outdoors. It seems like everyone in Flag is sporty, which makes sense given it's proximity to so many interesting natural landscapes to explore. We saw that heavily reflected in the downtown shops. 
• A great urban trail system. Cameron would have an abundance of running trials. 
• The Arizona Snowbowl is really close to town. My aunt and uncle are only 20 minutes away and can see the 
• The university brings in a lot of entertainment and makes the town feel more lively. It's independent of the school, but it was nice to see that there was a fair going on in town on the holiday weekend (unlike some places we've visited). 
• Generally pleasant climate, with four true seasons. 

The Bad

• I know I ended the "good" list with a pleasant climate, but it was hot while we were there. My family assured me that it's unusual to have weeks in the 90s, but I'm thinking that's going to become less and less unusual as the years go on. 
• Similarly, I've heard the winter snows are inconsistent and skiing options can be spotty. Then, when the ski area is open, it's very crowded on the weekends since it's the only reasonably decent skiing in the state and it's relatively small, especially for the crowds. 
• It seems like Flag is the best spot in Arizona. From the top of the ski parking lot, you can see that the land surrounding town is pretty barren. Plus, I have some hesitations about moving to Arizona due to its politics. 
• While Northern Arizona University is overall a good thing, I've been to parts of town during parts of the year that feel completely overrun by college kids. I typically like the vibe of college downs, but NAU seems to take it to another level. 
• There is really bad traffic, especially during rush hour. It's very old road infrastructure, which hasn't been updated in decades, despite the consistent growth the town has seen. 
• I'm not sure if Flag would ever feel like our town. So much of my family has already laid claim there, and even family members who don't live there attended NAU (i.e., my dad and another uncle). 
• Housing prices are outrageous compared to some of the other places we've considered. To get anything close to my dreamhouse would near $1 million. 

The Verdict

Sure.  If we ended up in Flagstaff we'd be perfectly happy. That said, I don't think it's ultimately going to make it to the top of my Goldilocks' list. 

I really liked this labarinth, which was off of the urban trail system and part of an art and nature park.

I somehow managed to spend far too much money at this art fair for someone who lives in a van and does not have space for art. I really liked that Flagstaff seems to have a lot of community events that are well attended. A music festival was being advertised for the following weekend. 

Cameron spent way too much money at Babbit's, one of many outdoor stores. There were two other shops within a block of this place, and there were numerous others, including REI, scattered around town.

This mural is outside the local theater, which appears to be hosting different entertainers on a near-weekly basis. 

I didn't do a good job of taking pictures of downtown, but it is one of the most lively and varied downtowns we've visited thus far. This plaza is where they host the annual pre-Christmas tree lighting ceremony, which Cameron and I saw a few winters ago. 

One of the perks of Snowbowl is its proximity to town, and I've heard that when the snow is good, it's really good. But it's small and crowded and doesn't open consistently...and now I've been spoiled by a season at Snowbasin. 

The view from the top of Snowbowl shows how isolate Flagstaff is. I put that as a negative above, but in actuality that's exactly what I want. I guess I just want my surroundings to be lush mountains on the way to a quick jaunt to a large fun city. 

One of the great things about Flag is that there is still a lot I have not seen, including the Museum of Northern Arizona and the arboretum. 

The real best part of Flagstaff is the great family we have there. 

Van Life: Rabbits on the Road

Surely by now you've realized that our pet rabbit, Pancake, aka Vancake (aka Munch, Munchy, Munchy Bun, Nut Bun, Boo Bun, Bunny Boo Boo, Sweet Creature, Creature, Creatch, Muffin, Panna Cotta, Sweet Face, Baby, Bunser, and Ms. Bun), lives with us in the van. Although unusual, it is not unique. Prior to seeking out a new pet, we watched other mobile rabbits and got tips from their owners. Cameron's favorite is Daytona, the trucker rabbit, and I've been a longtime follower of @mort.on.the.move, who lives out of a Canada-based RV. There are also a handful of online articles and videos which detail the highs and lows of having a roving rabbit; this is my attempt to contribute to the information available. 

Pre-Adoption Considerations

Rabbits are not naturally suited to car travel. Most feel uncomfortable while moving, and may not eat or poop until they are settled again. Naturally, this is a health concern, and it would be cruel to keep a creature in that state of discomfort long-term. Although I wanted a rabbit so badly, I was not going to adopt a rabbit that couldn't thrive in the van. My main qualifications were a rabbit that was large and durable, although if I could add a third wish, it would be to find a rabbit with a docile demeanor. 

Rabbits are social animals, and they tend to do better when they are in a bonded pair. Some European countries have animal cruelty laws that prevent you from owning just one. We would have considered a pair, but ideally we wanted to start off as a one-bun household with the intention of finding a mate once we were settled post-Goldilocks Project. As social animals, rabbits need lots of attention, and luckily with Cameron and I working from home, we'd be able to give the rabbit fairly constant interactions.

Initially, I wanted one of the corgi-sized German Giants, but it is difficult to find a large rabbit in the US. Pancake is on the bigger side of average (she's probably about 10lbs), but she was only listed as "medium" on the adoption website. Initially, we didn't consider her because she wasn't "large," but after fostering her for a month we couldn't give her up. By that point, we had taken her on short car rides (20-60 minutes) and could tell that she'd be fine. Normally, she was on alert for the first 15 minutes, but then would start to settle down, and sometimes even lay down in her carrier. Although she typically refused treats while in the car, it seemed like she would continue to become more relaxed. 

Even though it seemed like we had fortuitously fostered the perfect rabbit (albeit, she's not particularly docile, but I think in the end I prefer an active and curious bunny), I was still worried that we were being selfish. I DM'd @mort.on.the.move to ask his advice (he did not answer; he is a rabbit after all), and I texted my friend who co-runs the rabbit shelter I volunteered at in Krakow. Her response is what made me feel ok about this decision: "as long as she can hop around and stand on hind legs from time to time she should be fine."

Downsides of Having a Rabbit

Before we officially committed to adopting Pancake, we had to make some van build decisions that would be affected by having a pet. Number one priority was to have a space that would fit her litter box, plus some additional floor space, that she would be safe in while moving. During the two trial trips, she was confined to her carrying cage, which surely was uncomfortable for the long trip. We had to make sure to stop every 2-3 hours to give her a chance to stretch her legs and use the litter box, but it was obvious she was not very happy with us. Even now that she had litter box access 100% of the time, we still try to take extended stops at least every 3 hours for her sake.

She's much more comfortable in her "cubby." She knows that it is her space, and she happily jumps in and out on her own accord. Even though it is her preferred snoozing spot, she doesn't like it when we lock her in there (either at night or during drives), and she's starting to find creative ways to attempt escape. 

Bunny-proofing woes is another ongoing concern. We've lost a few flyaway cables to her chewing and we no longer let her free roam at night. Although she can jump off of the bed on her own, she's not the most athletic rabbit and she's had a few flops. I think she's sometimes afraid to jump down, and if she stays on the bed too long she uses it as a potty. Cameron read that she may have peed on the bed because it smells like us, so she assumes it's our litter box. It's a very cute explanation, but nonetheless I don't want rabbit urine on my sheets, especially when we have inconsistent access to a washing machine. We've had to get creative about how to keep her off of the bed, but every time we come up with a clever solution, she figures out a way to outsmart us after a few days. 

Her cubby is about 4'x2'x2', which isn't a significant amount of room on it's own, but we also need to make space for her food (pellets in the pantry and fresh greens in the fridge), her carrying cage (kept in the "garage" space under the bed), and other general maintenance items (hay, litter, potty pads, etc. are kept in a big Rubbermaid box under the bed). The last time we were at a pet store, Cameron insisted on buying a tunnel toy, so now that floats around our already limited floorspace. Clearly, we make do without the storage space, but if we didn't have her I probably would repurpose those areas for better-organized pots and pans and for a more accessible laundry. Oh well; Munchy Bunny takes precedent. 

We are a little less flexible with her. If we were on our own, we would probably work from public libraries and coffee shops more often, but instead we choose to stay in the van with her. We do periodically leave her alone (if we go on a hike or out to dinner, for example), but we still have to keep the fan and AC going. 

I think people assume rabbits are smelly. On the contrary, rabbits are naturally very clean, and once things are arranged in a suitable way, they tend to be fairly tidy. The thing that smells is their urine, but so long as you keep good cleaning habits (replace the litter every 2-3 days), there shouldn't be a smell. Just in case, we've added some ventilation holes on the door-side of her cubby, so when the door is open there is some airflow from the outside. I also have a light hay allergy, which is partially why we keep the hay in an air-tight container. I've found that so long as I replace her hay outside of the van, it doesn't trigger my allergies. 

The biggest downside to having a van bun is my ongoing concern that she is not living her best life. Any chance we get, we let her run in the grass or bring her inside a house to roam, and it's obvious that she's enthused. As previously mentioned, Pancake is an exceptionally curious bunny, so having an ongoing change of scenery is probably good for her, but I wish we could give her more day-to-day rumpus room. In compensation, we feed her really well and she gets as much love and attention as she could possibly ask for.

Upsides of Having a Rabbit

She's so darn cute! Do I need to say more? 

The main benefits of having Pancake are the same as any other pet. If you don't like rabbits, don't get one! That said, I think that bunnies are by far the most adorable and curious pet you can have. As far as van-specific benefits, it's easy to be stealthy with her, since she doesn't make any noise and we don't have pet-specific items strewn about. Her litter is far less smelly than a cat's. As a vegetarian, I'm also glad I don't have to keep meat-based pet food in the van (some people call rabbits "vegan cats"). 

Pancake is a diffuser for tension between me and Cameron. She's an extra "person" to talk to and she's a nice distraction when I need one. When we are in an uncomfortable situation but don't want to admit it, we can place blame on the rabbit. For example, if it's really hot outside, then she's our excuse for paying $45 to sleep in a campground with electricity hookups for the night –  we need to run the AC for the rabbit's sake, not ours!

I think both Cameron and I have seen improvements in our mental health since adopting her. Just being able to watch her do silly things brings joy and spontaneity to our lives (although I could argue that van life inherently increases spontaneity). I'm not willing to research it, but I am willing to bet that there are a slew of studies that show that people generally are happier when they have pets. I'm sure part of that is having to put your focuses on the pet rather than yourself. We're about to leave for a 3-week backpacking trip, and rather than being worried about the physical strain and looming fire warnings, I'm more concerned about if she's going to get enough attention from my parent's and their elderly dog while we're gone (even though mom calls Pancake her "grandbunny," I don't think she's particularly looking forward to bunnysitting for a month).

A final plus – she's a point of interest when visiting people. Sure people, are curious about van life, but they are especially intrigued by our sweet baby bunny. We've discovered that Pancake is great with kids, and she love's the attention she get's from them, so it's a win-win situation; with the right age group, the kids and the rabbit basically co-babysit each other. 

Just looking at the number of paragraphs, it seems like the bads outweigh the goods, but that's absolutely not the case. Each of those downsides are so minor, and having her around brings virtually no hardship to our lives. We love our Sweet Creature, and I truly think that she's a big reason why van life has been so enjoyable so far. 

Get ready for a slew of bunny pics!

Most of the time, Pancake is snoozing in her cubby or on the main floor during the day, so most of these pics are of a napping bun.

So adorable! 

Aggh! I know this gives you no context to van life, but the fact that she can sleep this deeply means she's pretty comfortable. 

Using her upturned food bowl as a pillow.

Mid-dinner snooze.

Attempting to drink out of her water bottle while laying down.

Pancake often knocks down her water bottle in an attempt to escape her cubby when the doors are closed. It's her own fault she doesn't have floor space to rest her paws.

It's hard to say if she prefers to be in or out of her cubby. On the outside there is more foot-licking access. You can also see the must-have tunnel in the background.

Looking at Pancake from one of the outside-facing vent hole.

And for context, you can see the full set of holes from the inside.

When practical, we try to give Pancake outside time.

We make sure she's shaded and monitored at all times. 

Although leashing her is probably best, she really hates being harnessed. 

One of our attempts to bunny-proof the bed.

If we aren't actively keeping her off of something, any surface is fair game. 

Look at her plotting her jump!

She made it.

When on the bed, she mostly just pushes sheets around and tries to flatten them out.

If we're up there with her, it's guaranteed licks. 

I know it's blurry, but this was her not-so-graceful attempt at jumping down.

Like I said, she's great with kids! (These pics are from a house we stayed at for a family reunion.)

And the kids were amped to let her out of her room as much as possible. 

I think she started to need some alone time. After a long kid-session, I found her as deep under the bed as possible.

She's our little bunny buddy and we love her!