Unloading Stuff

One of the joys of adopting the cruising life is the need to jettison land-based possessions and behaviors. In our case, we are not completely abandoning shoreside living, at least not for the foreseeable future. Rather, we are easing into our new lifestyle by taking on cruising one season at a time.

None-the-less, our anticipated adventures have given us cause to sell or give away unwanted possessions at an accelerated pace these last few months. It seems not a week goes by when we don't say "yes" to the solicitors from Disabled American Veterans, the Lupus Foundation, the Association of Retarded Citizens, or one of several other deserving causes who call asking if we have any household items available for pick up the next time their truck is in the neighborhood. We then dutifully scour the basement, the garage, or the closet for something to put on the front porch as donations by 8 a.m. on the appointed day.

Of course, some of this behavior is associated with our share of the economic "unwinding" we all read about lately. As baby boomers, we're apt to participate in the great demographic surge of downsizing, simplifying, and eco-facilitating that is all the rage these days. Emily (our youngest) is graduating high school next month, so empty nesterism isn't far off. It seems reasonable to think that we should need less stuff now that there will soon be no kids around. (After all, from now on, they won't want stuff, just money, to sustain them.)

Overlay adoption of the cruising life and we have even more impetus to get rid of stuff. Today, I sold our "trailer sailor," a Capri 14 sailboat. I put the boat on Craigslist last weekend, and within two days a guy from Santa Fe called with a few questions. Then, sight unseen, he sent a $200 deposit check to induce me not to accept any other offers. He gave me my asking price, and even took the 2-stroke 3.5 hp Tohatsu outboard motor off my hands for an additional $500, which I had little expectation of selling so easily. He drove 400 miles this morning to come pick the boat up and turned right around, after a hasty rigging tutorial, for the return trip to New Mexico. I just watched him pull away from the drive, with the boat rolling on its trailer behind his Volvo station wagon, not 15 minutes ago.

This deal was the last of two efforts to rid ourselves of some major possessions in advance of our first cruising season. About a month ago, I sold my 1999 Ford F250 SuperDuty Crew Cab pick up truck for $12,000. (I called it my "20th Century Truck.") I had been trying off and on, mostly through Craigslist, to advertise the truck. But alas, no bites for the longest time, which led me to believe no one wanted the big beast. It was in cherry shape -- I had babied it all these years and kept it immaculate -- so it was sure to be a good score for someone. I just had to get prospective buyers to see it and it would sell. It didn't help that all last summer when I first put it on the market gas soared to nearly $4 per gallon. A vehicle that gets 13 mpg isn't going to attract interest under those circumstances, even if it can haul all your friends and all their gear over mountain pass after mountain pass!

I did get one showing with an employee of an oil and gas outfit that wanted to take the truck to the West Slope for a life of unending labor. But it turned out he preferred an automatic, so that deal went nowhere. A second prospect surfaced on the coldest morning of last December. Before he arrived for the showing, I tried to fire the truck up so it would be warm when he arrived, but it wouldn't turn over. No amount of cursing or coaxing got the desired result. He looked at the truck, said he liked it and asked me to call him once I got it going. Three days and $600 later (for a new fuel pump), I called him and he told me he was driving around in his new (to him) Ford F150. I was beginning to think my beloved beast did not want to leave me.

Then, after the fourth renewal of my monthly Craigslist posting (with some lapses), an email came into my inbox from a guy from Littleton who said he thought for sure the truck had sold, and he was so glad to see it back on the market. He had noticed the ad a few months earlier, but never got any replies to his efforts to reach me. Apparently, he had sent his email inquiries from his home computer, which for some reason never made it to my inbox. This latest email he sent from his work computer. This time, it got through. When I called him he was overjoyed to hear from me and wanted to see the truck right away. We met in the Dave and Busters parking lot at I-25 and Colorado Boulevard for a test drive. Immediately after, he said he wanted to put a deposit on the truck to ensure no one else would take it over the weekend while he got a cashiers check as payment. There was only one hitch. He didn't have a check with him. I told him not to worry, I would let him know if another buyer surfaced.

The weekend came and went. He called Monday saying he was having trouble getting the cashiers check from his bank . Same story Tuesday. I was beginning to think it was "deja vu all over again" and that beasty was meant to be mine for longer, but on Wednesday evening he showed up at our house with his wife and two rug rats and the deal went down. They were overjoyed, and as we got acquainted, they explained to Jocelyn and me that the fact that the truck remained on the market so long and finally found its way into their lives was "Gods will." All I could say was "Praise the Lord."

I am sure we will find more shoreside stuff to unload in the coming weeks. Even so, I'm afraid with all the gear we are buying for the boat, we'll end up with a net accumulation of stuff. I guess it's our own contribution to the global "stimulus" package. Who knows. Maybe we'll get an award.

The transition to the cruising life continues.