September 21, 2013

           Why is the world in a grumpy mood today? Myself, I can explain. I wrecked a multimeter by connecting it wrong. But everybody else has life perfect and easy so what’s with the bad moods? Must be something in the water. I spent the morning testing the small solar panel to see if it will keep my Honda battery topped off. It is just seven watts but that may be enough if it’s in the sun all day. I’m not sure I can redo the entire Honda wiring until that vetter fairing is removed.

           I had the option to attend a puppet show, but decided it was enough just to keep busy on weekends. So I worked on the camper. You know something I do not like is butt splices, those metal clips that are supposed to join wires. I say supposed to because they are difficult to work with. You must use the exact size for each wire gauge and you need an expensive crimping tool. In a pinch, I used what I had on hand and a pair of pliers. Every one of the joints came loose. Now, I get to miss the puppet show, which is something I’ve never been to.
           I’m no expert with these solar panels, but I know one hell of a lot more about how to make them work right than before. Notice I said to work right, anybody can get them to work wrong. I’m pointing to a voltage regulator. This is not part of the camper wiring, rather a setup that will hopefully keep the Honda battery topped off without my nightly ritual of stringing out the top-up (float) charger.
           The panel in the background puts out 17 volts in bright sunlight, enough to boil your acid and ruin your battery. The regulator keeps the charging voltage at the proper 13.7 volts. It also prevents and backflow at night, which will wreck your panels. The regulators are not cheap. This unit was $30 and it cannot be used near any moisture. To the sharp-eyed who see the 12.2 volts on the meter, I am measuring the battery, not the regulator output. To do a proper check, you need two meters. If it works, I have to figure out a way to mount that solar panel on the sidecar.
           As the day progressed, the work on the camper took over everything. The waterproofing putty on each edge was 1/8th inch thick, so all my saw cuts were ¼” too much. But better dry than pretty. I understand why some would question why I’d plow $600 into a camper to save $600 on comfy, convenient roadside motels. They are not thinking as I depart each morning, I’ve still got my $600.
           The 17” of interior space is truly the bare minimum. Getting into the wagon requires a bit of athletics. The hatch must be redesigned to allow me to sit up in the rear deck area and then stretch into the sarcophagus rather than feet first. This entails the solar panels must be mounted and tested to determine what is left to work with. The design is flexible enough to allow for all this.
           I am able to rise to my elbows and to turn over in my sleep without hitting the ceiling. But barely enough is just enough so I'm happy. Once asleep, one is unconscious of all surroundings. The camper is only a means to an end. My new plan is to install a hinge that swings upward (behind the solar panels) instead of backward, which should also make entry faster in the rain, which I encountered 2/11ths of my travel time in the previous year.
           Ah, some say, that statistic does not match the days of rain recorded. Yes, but sometimes the rain was not bad or I decided to proceed, which is not fun. Don’t underrate the experience I’ve gained since June 2012. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing when I left for Colorado. I repeatedly broke down and ran short of gas. I had to drive past dozens of things I’d like to see. I conked out on Pike’s Peak and froze my yarbles on the Estes divide. This camper is the result of what I learned out there on the road.

           Shown here is the application of the putty, which comes in the roll you can also see. There is wood putty, axle grease and golf tees. Am I going golfing? These are used to seal any misdrilled pilot holes, then cut flush and painted over. The axle grease is a light coating that goes on each bold to prevent rust since I know even galvanized metal eventually stains. The wood putty is for any long and narrow cracks that can’t be dealt with any other way.
           If any water gets into this camper, it will be through the wood, not any joints. Also, I’ve torn apart all the electronics and added switches into the supply line of every charger and battery. I concluded the lack of a switch was a design mistake. You can’t work on equipment that can’t be shut down for maintenance.
           Working all day sent me to bingo and back home again without any time for fooling around. Besides, if there was a half-decent single woman in this entire county, I would have found her several times over by now. I’m planning to take a small course on how to use an iPad, since I still don’t have one. I prefer a laptop with all the functions but I should become fluent with the iPad if only to keep up with James Bond and gang.

ADDENDUM

           Wow, fan mail galore, why the sudden interest in the added switch? That's all it is, a cutoff to isolate the 12 volt power supply from the components. It does not have a job, like working a light or a motor, it is just a safety cut-off switch. But if you want to see it, fine, here you go. That's it, a throw switch.
           This is one component of the entire system, in this case the familiar three relays to operate the wagon lights. But the principle is clear. The solar panels themselves cannot be conveniently turned off. I notice they will generate power in the evenings when I turn on my desk lamp across the room. What you see here will be mounted inside the trailer ahead of the axle, battery on one side, the controls on the other.