Leslie reminded me yesterday that my post about our southwest road trip did not mention a rather freaky experience trying to find a place to eat on our last night. It had been a long day of driving from the Grand Canyon to Nephi, Utah (pronounced “KNEE-fie”). Sitting at the Chevron waiting for the tank to fill we decided that a sit-down meal with a beer sounded good. The only option we could see was JC Mickelson’s Restaurant, across
the street. Once inside we were greeted by a host of weird people. The owner or manager, a tall, pale, bearded man, wore sneakers, white socks, khaki shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt. He greeted us and handed two menus to a small, pretty young girl of about 11 or 12 (although who can be sure these days?), who gleefully informed us that the night’s special was prime rib. I interrupted their excitement about the opportunity to serve us by asking if they served beer. Much wind escaped from sails. “No,” the manager said. He then generously tried to think of a place that could accommodate our request. “Not in this town,” he concluded. We thanked them and left, and headed over to Burger King.
We’d been too tired to realize how naive we were expecting to get a beer in Nephi. It’s funny now, but once we realized the hold of Mormons on small towns in Utah and the control they have over things like the basic human right to have a beer with your burger after a long drive, we were kind of pissed. But we got over it and headed to Wendover, where we camped in a Baptist church parking lot just below a row of strip clubs on the west end of town (the Nevada side).
In thinking about our irritation with Mormon “dry” policies or whatever you want to call their crass violation of our 94th Amendment right to a beer after a long day of travel, it occurred to me that we might be guilty of a double standard when comparing Utah with the Diné (Navajo; also spelled Dineh) and Hopi reservations. Inside the nearly 13 million acres bounding the Diné reservation, inside which sits the 1.5 million acre Hopi reservation, it is a crime to possess or consume alcohol. If we’d been stopped by tribal police for some reason, they could have searched our van and arrested us for the beer and wine we had inside. Thankfully that didn’t happen (or you would have much longer blog entries from me).
There are lots of ways to look at this. First, not being able to buy or drink a beer anywhere you want to just plain sucks. But then you have to think about the “respect for different cultures” we try to make part of our creed. I respect and appreciate American Indian cultures far more than I do Mormonism, which is more of a religion dictating a dogmatic and particularly natural resource-abusive lifestyle than a “culture,” but I’m sure real anthropologists would disagree. I’m probably equally familiar with Mormonism as I am with Native American ways of life, but what I know of both makes it easy for me to favor the latter. Indians have been screwed on this continent since before Columbus arrived, yet
they have continued to contribute some very positive things to civilization in the form of art, architecture, farming, medicine, and spirituality. The only really positive thing I can say about what I know of Mormonism is that they appear to teach decent manners to their kids; if you watch a Mormon family at a restaurant, you won’t usually see a bunch of kids running around like Tasmanian devils who think they’re in their own living room. I won’t go into the long list of what I don’t like about Mormonism, but suffice it to say that they don’t elicit the same level of appreciation in me as American Indians do.
So, to resolve the apparent double-standard of being pissed about not getting a beer in Nephi and appreciating and respecting Indian anti-alcohol policies, I think it’s fair to say that the situations are different enough that it really isn’t a double standard at all. It was – and still is – Indian land to begin with, so they should be allowed to set whatever policies they want and expect everyone passing through to abide by them. In Utah, though, the Mormon control of alcohol policy is excessive because the land there is not exclusively owned or inhabited by a single group. There, dryness should be personal choice. Is it beer:30 yet?
After years of hankering after and coveting our neighbors’ VW Eurovan Campers, Leslie and I finally put an end to all that unproductive desire and pulled the trigger on a lovely 2001 unit with about 64,000 miles on it.
Over the past four or five years I had learned a lot about these things, and waffled between going the old-school route with a chronically wimpy-motored Vanagon (especially the 4WD Syncro models), or a more modern, more powerful EVC. Various schools of thought compete with persuasive arguments about why their side is better: Vanagon campers are true Westfalias, engineered and built by Germans (as opposed to American company Winnebago, which made and installed the camper equipment in the Eurovans), with a better design, fit and finish. Vanagon campers have a better turning circle and more ground clearance, making them better suited to bad roads in faraway places (which really appealed to me). Vanagon campers have a much cooler “vibe” which almost seems to come from a kind of underdog ethos (a bizarre sensibility for a German product, regardless of the “volks” branding rhetoric) owing to their legendary lack of power, especially on hills. Eurovans, on the other hand, are roomier, have a much better power plant (especially the 2001-2003 models), making them better suited to road trips on the highway, especially in mountainous areas (which really appealed to Leslie). I think the deciding factor for me was that the Eurovan camper came with a 12,000 BTU heater, which was important for us since our favorite camping season is the fall when it can get very cold in the Idaho mountains. You can buy and install an aftermarket propane heater for the Vanagon camper, but it is expensive ($800) and a big job and puts out half the BTUs of the EVC heater.
With Leslie’s input we decided on the EVC, which came in three engine sizes, the best of which was only offered from 2001 to 2003 (201 horsepower), when VW stopped making them for the U.S. market. I “watched” fifty or sixty of the 2001 through 2003 models on ebay during the past several years, and was amazed at how they seemed to keep their value. When new, I think these sold for somewhere around $40k, and you can still find several listed for near or even over that figure. About four years ago I bid $28,000 on a 2001 and just missed getting it. The one we bought cost more than I’m comfortable saying, and we had to drive to Tahoe to get it. I won’t go into the deal, but it was a bit intense. When we got it home and got it registered, we were very relieved.
Although generally in very good shape – especially the most important part: the engine – our EVC needed a bit of attention.
The first thing I had to do was replace the antenna, which got broken off when we took it through the car wash. Not the easiest job in the world, nor least expensive since you can’t buy just the manually retractable aerial part but must get the whole antenna assembly. Since it’s German, it is one engineered bugger. The first one I bought from GoWesty ($79) had the old farka (?) connector for the original Blaupunkt (?) stereo, but ourEVC had a newer Alpine stereo with a different connector. So I cut the farka connected off the new cable, cut the Alpine connector off the existing cable, and tried to solder the latter onto the former. Didn’t work. The mini-coax antenna cable and the connector would not cooperate and I’m not really adept with a soldering iron despite my years of child labor in a Shanghai electronics factory making circuit boards for vibrating sex toys. So I did some research and found another connector on ebay. It didn’t work, either (or rather, I screwed it up while trying to install it). Then I found a web site that had new, different OEM antenna cables that would hook right into the Alpine stereo. So I ordered that (from http://www.Europarts-sd.com, $15), and re-installed it in less than an hour.
While replacing the antenna, which you do through the engine compartment, I noticed the plastic faring over the battery was cracked nearly in half. VW wanted $80 for a new one, so I got some JB Weld ($6) and fixed that.
One of the fog lights was out, so I ordered some cool yellow ones on ebay ($2 plus $10 shipping!). Once I figured out how to dis-assemble the fog light (much easier than it looked, but took me a while to realize it), I replaced the one that didn’t work, and it still didn’t work. So I took the other one apart to see if it was wired up differently, and it wasn’t. I replaced the working light with the new yellow one, then tested it and now it didn’t work. I took it apart, reassembled it, shook it around, banged it, cursed it, sweet-talked it, then retested it. Fiat lux! So I went back to the other one and did the same thing, and low and behold, it worked, too. It was a thrill to drive it to work this morning in my Gangsta EVC. Yeah Boooooyyyyy!
Now onto the big stuff…
The fridge – a Norcold 3-way (LPG, 12VDC, 120VAC) – didn’t work well on LPG, so I pulled it out and found a huge mess from what looked like an old boilover on the stove. I cleaned all that up, got rid of the stinky, stained vinyl flooring, waterproofed it, scraped some surface rust off the inside wall, primed & painted it with Rustoleum, and then added some compact foil-bubble-wrap insulation to the whole wall, cutting out the vent holes for the two fridge vents (the outsides of which I also replaced with new vent assemblies from GoWesty).
I could also smell an LPG leak somewhere when the propane was turned on, and noticed the burner box was missing screws and a gasket. So I took the whole thing apart, found some replacement parts on ebay (a new relighter assembly ($100!), electrode, interrupter, gasket, and thermocoupler), cleaned and re-installed it (which took about a week of evenings and a full weekend day). Now it works quite well on LPG, and gets very cold, unlike the old Dometic fridges in the Vanagons and Buses.
Underneath the van, the propane tank itself was really, really rusted and made me nervous, so I ordered a new one, and a new regulator from GoWesty (great selection and service, very high prices). My initial look under the camper intimidated me because of all the dirt, grease, minor rust, and hoses and components I didn’t understand. I searched high and low on the Internet for blogs from people who had done this replacement but found none. I was pretty surprised by this because I’d done some modifications on motorcycles and had a choice of half a dozen step-by-step posts with photos by people who had done the same thing. Nothing on the EVC.
So I secured a weekend day to tackle this project, borrowed some jack stands and a floor jack from work, and crawled under the van. After a few hours I had the system dis-assembled. It wasn’t easy because the 13/16th flare nuts on the three propane lines were impossible to reach with a wrench, but I managed somehow with a vise grip and crescent wrench to get them disconnected from the cross manifold. I knew that re-assembly would be impossible without a 13/16th crowfoot flare-nut wrench, which I found on ebay and ordered. The line coming off the regulator was saturated with oil, which made me feel better about ordering a new regulator. I took the two old rubber lines (from tank to regulator, and regulator to cross manifold) to Suburban Propane and they made up new ones with new brass fittings while I waited ($30). I got a new galvanized cross manifold and brass flare fittings at Home Depot, along with the yellow LPG teflon tape, and rebuilt the entire assembly.
This LPG thing was a time-consuming and big project for me. The new LPG tank I got from GoWesty (manufactured by Manchester, who made the original tank) had some paint chips down to bare metal which I was impelled to deal with because of the reason I was doing this in the first place: rust. So I masked all the ports and safety decals on it, sanded it down, primed and painted it with Rustoleum. Not quite satisfied, I sprayed the bottom of the tank with the rubberized under-coating. If this thing rusts I’ll eat my hat. The bolts and mounting bracket for the LPG tank were also pretty badly rusted (the EVC originated in Pennsylvania before moving to California when she was two), so I prepped those areas and sprayed with Rustoleum and rubber undercoating, too.
The crowfoot wrench from ebay finally arrived so I could finalize the reassembly. It worked perfectly to tighten the three flare nuts on top of the cross mainfold. The thought of finding a leak when I tested this made me really focus on getting every fitting as tight as I could. I used the floor jack to prop up the newly prepped LPG tank (heavy!), and re-bolted it with new zinc-plated bolts and lock washers. I even added a little blue Loctite for extra security.
The last two things before I could test the system were the grounding strap and loom clamp that had to be reinstalled on the cross manifold. These took about two hours because of the cramped area they lived in. My forearms, hands and fingers still ache from these little devils.
Finally, the new system was ready to leak test. I hooked the tank line to the old tank, opened the valve, and then sprayed soapy water over each connection and looked for bubbles. Nothing. I got excited. Not satisfied, I then took out my cigarette lighter and fired it up and BLAMMMOOO! Just kidding. No leaks, no squeaks. Good to go.
Some other stuff we did or are doing to improve the EVC are:
- Lloyd rubber mats for the passenger area and front ($80 each from GoWesty)
- GoWesty Lift & Level Kit ($1800): comes with wider alloy wheels (made for Mercedes Benz), larger Michelin Hydro-edge tires, Bilstein shocks, a lift pad for the left side, and hardware. Basically restores the suspension to the level it’s supposed to be, since the Winnebago camper conversion makes it sag and lean to the left. After installing it, the EVC handles and rides much, much better.
- Home-made awning: I bought material to make my own lightweight awning from Quest Outfitters (awesome online-store!), since the ones you can buy are a fortune. This will be a coated rip-stop nylon cover that will snap to the van over the sliding door, and be supported by shock-corded aluminum tent poles. Total cost about $110.
- Drink holders: the EVC console has a couple weird-shaped floor-level drink holders that don’t accept anything but small drinks or cups, and reaching for them is kind of dangerous. I bought some OEM fold-up adjustable drink holders (one of which comes standard in the passenger area) to mount in the front – either on the doors or in a custom console I’m hoping to make (see below).
- Console: the EVC console is weak, and the cockpit is surprisingly under-designed and minimalist. There is only one 12V plug (the cigarette lighter); what do you do if you’re using a GPS and also want to charge your phone or computer at the same time? Since there’s no glove box (air bag and air conditioner components take that space in the 2001-2003 models), where do you put pens, flashlight, CDs, comic books, dog treats, gum, car wash coupons, laser pointers for screwing with small aircraft, etc? I bought a cheap console at Target to put between the front seats, but it gets in the way of our dogs tromping between the back and front while we drive, which we mustn’t interfere with since they basically own us and we like the added danger of having dogs loose during drives on windy mountain roads at night. So we returned that. I saw a custom made console on the Yahoo EVC list and want to make my own with several 12V accessory outlets, an outside temperature gauge, a little lockable cabinet for wallet, etc., and probably mount the drink holders I got to it. Neither Leslie or I like clutter in the car, so this will be essential.
- Mattress pads: our EVC, we learned on our first over-nighter, was missing a couple of the foam mattress pads. I like to sleep up top by myself, away from our bed-hog dogs. Leslie likes to sleep below, away from me since I wake her up whenever she snores. So we went to the fabric store and bought some 2″ high-density foam and some nice heavy-duty upholstery fabric with a nice design that will go well with the lovely gray interior and will make the extras we need.
- Bike rack: luckily for us, the EVC came with a nice new 2″ tow hitch in which we can install a bike rack. After lots of research and reading reviews, I got the best bang for the buck, an Allen 545RR. It folds down at the perfect angle to get out of the way of lifting the rear hatch on the EVC, and is very secure. At $100, this rack blows away the vastly overpriced Yakima and Thule racks.
- Seatback organizer: got a cheap little thing that ties to the passenger seat and gives you lots of pockets to put maps, gazeteers and other junk in.
- Propane tank cover: you wouldn’t believe how many EVCs have lost these covers, made of thick, brittle plastic, probably from scraping them off on speed bumps. You can buy a replacement for $150! Incredible! Our EVC still had its cover, but it had a big crack in it that had been poorly repaired and broke in half when I took it off the first time. It’s not super easy to put on and take off, which you must do to turn off or on the propane valve, which you must have off while driving. So I prepped it and did the JB Weld thing with it, and it’s basically good as new, but with more character, featuring lots of scrapes and gashes from who knows what. While a pretty good protective device against the weather and road grime for the LPG equipment, I’m not satisfied with the usability of this cover. I bought some heavy PVC plastic and snaps and am hoping to make a cover out of that with a velcro flap that accesses the propane valve.
That’s about it for now. I’ll try to update this post with photos soon…