Allie Bombach of Red Reel Films takes us on a journey to find the simpler things in life.

When we grow up we want to be our readers.

Allie Bombach blew our minds and won our hearts from the first time we watched the trailer for her film, 23 Feet. The documentary, released earlier this year, follows Allie and two friends as they cross the country in a 1970 Airstream, meeting with people who have ditched their traditional lifestyles for the open road and the great outdoors. A director, producer, and videographer, Allie uses her gift for storytelling to promote simple living and respect for the environment – things we definitely dig here at EcoSalon, along with Allie.

Name: Allie Bombach

Website: www.23feet.org

How did you get introduced to EcoSalon?

I started reading EcoSalon because of Foodie Underground and the fabulous Anna Brones, and I’m hooked on the home design tips and interviews with rockin folks. For me, it’s a wonderful source of inspiration and at the same time a guilty pleasure during the work day to check out the recent articles.

Tell us about 23 Feet.

23 Feet is a short documentary about people who live simply to do what they love outside. We set out across the west in the summer of 2010 searching for the community of people who live in cars, buses, and other small spaces ditching the creature comforts of today’s society to raft, surf, and climb. The name 23 Feet comes from my own 1970, 23-foot Airstream that I live in and took from Colorado to Oregon during the production of the film. After the film was finished, we took the Airstream back on the road for an outdoor theater tour in the summer of 2011 that screened the film off the side of the Airstream. We had about 30 screenings in a variety of landscapes from the middle of wilderness to the middle of cities. For me, the whole experience was an exploration in the meaning of home, community, and ultimate happiness and passion in what you do.

The Airstream has a name. What is it, and why?

Roma is her name, and besides all the roaming she does, she just seemed like a middle-aged old woman that would give you great advice. Hence, Roma. Perfect.

You tricked out Roma with recycled and reclaimed materials. What are some of the highlights?

Roma’s got some snazz to her for sure. Her cork floors are pretty awesome and she has reclaimed wood for the desk and bed. What I am excited about is the upcoming improvements to make her really cozy and sustainable. I’m hoping to add a wood stove, solar panels, and one fine day, a composting toilet. As of now, she’s pretty simple with no plumbing, and the truck charges the batteries in the Airstream after a drive. So lots more to do!

I imagine there was a fair share of magical moments on the road. What was the craziest?

The production was wild. We had no idea if what we set out to do would actually work! We didn’t know if we would find characters, or even if we would make it to Oregon. The truck pulling the Airstream broke down several times, and it seemed like surprises were around every corner. And because most of the budget came after the film was edited, we found ourselves sleeping in a lot of random spots. It was pretty adventurous. The film screening tour was one moment of bliss after another. We were on the road for four months, winding in and out of national parks and major cities. Connecting with so many people who have lived (or want to live) the lifestyle documented in 23 Feet was very magical. To tell a story is one thing, to have that story compel people to tell you their story is a whole different gift. It made all that hard work worth every moment and then some.

What five items/products made life on the road easier?

In a small space, the things you own are few, but very important. From your toothbrush to your water bottle, everything needed to be sturdy and worthy of the road.

Innate Gear Thermos – I swear you can put your coffee in hot and it will still be piping 8 hours later. It’s a miracle bottle.

French press – Any appliance that doesn’t need electricity is a great find. Plus, my favorite way to make coffee.

Slippers – Just because you are on the road, doesn’t mean you can’t be cozy. I travel with slippers everywhere I go.

Horny Toad dresses – They don’t wrinkle, they are super comfortable, and they are super easy to clean. I love me some Horny Toad.

Dr. Bronner’s soap – All purpose awesomeness. Just a few drops and you’ll shine like a new penny. It’s way better for the environment too. (Ed. Note: We love their hair conditioner too.)

What creature comforts did you miss the most?

The only thing I can think of is plants. I miss having little plants around. It’s like a class 5 earthquake in the Airstream when we are on the road, so no plants have been able to take that kinda shock! Other than that, you won’t find me missing TV or a dishwasher.

Any plans for a sequel? In other words, what’s up next?

My business partner Sarah Menzies and I run a production company called Red Reel. We had such a powerful reaction to the outdoor theater tour last summer that we are excited to be able to continue the grassroots unique distribution for projects to come. As far as the stories in the works, we’re sticking with character driven pieces, and pointing our lens to the movers and shakers of environmental and social change. Right now Roma is sitting in Santa Fe, New Mexico, with my family, and Sarah and I are calling San Jose Del Cabo, Baja, home for the winter. We’re filming in the water and editing our 2012 spring films. If there were a sequel to 23 Feet, I think we might take it onto sail boats, but right now, 23 feet of home has turned into about 3 feet of suitcase, and life couldn’t be better.

Fashion writer Johanna Björk moves West, couchsurfing and eating good food the entire way.

Having lived on the East coast for eleven years, and New York City (NYC) for nearly five, I decided a few months ago that it was time to try out life in the West. Like many before me, I figured the perfect transition (and to get my car over there) would be to do a cross-country road trip. My man and I decided on the Northern route, mainly because it had less wildfires right around this time. To add a bit of a challenge to our trip, we decided that we would not eat in any mainstream chain restaurants or stay in any big-chain motels — only local mom-and-pop eateries (as healthy as we could find) and independent motels, or better yet, couchsurfing.

Day One: New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio

We rolled out of the city around 10:30 on Labor Day morning. It was kind of sad to say goodbye to New York, a city that had been my home for such a long time, but by the approach to the Lincoln Tunnel, I was ready to go to greener, less crowded and stressful pastures.

A last look at the NYC skyline, seen from New Jersey.

We hit I-80 West and blazed through New Jersey, with “no stop ’til PA” as our motto, and we stuck to it. After a few hours our stomachs were growling for some lunch, but all we saw were rest stop signs for various fast food chains until Tannersville, where a small sign that said “Tandoor Palace” caught my eye. Tandoor Palaceturned out to be a restaurant, housed in an old train car outside a weathered Days Inn. The interior was part murky banquet hall and part colonial-era first class train car salon.We were lucky it was Labor Day, because there was a special buffet $12.95 for all you can eat Indian food, including naan bread and dessert. For a long-time New Yorker, this is a steal. Adding to our joy of finding Indian food was that besides us, there were about 80 (actual) Indian people there. “Must be really good,” we thought, as we filled our plates to the brim. It was very good, and the manager even gave us two cups of free coffee to take with us as we hit the road.

Eating well on the road is not easy, but sometimes you come across some pretty fantastic places, like Tandoor Palace.

All the way through Pennsylvania (which is a pretty wide state), we had a huge cloud of rainstorms looming above making this part of the trip less than joyful. Thankfully, I have been to Pennsylvania many times for work and have seen a lot of its picturesque countryside.

Rain and dark gloomy skies accompanied us all the way through Pennsylvania.

As we stopped for gas, it was starting to get dark, which meant it was high time to consider where we would spend the night. After some cheap motel searching that turned up nothing but Motel 6′s and expensive motels we decided to try out Couchsurfing. Neither of us had an account, so using my iPhone I signed up for one in the car and we started searching for couches in Cleveland, since that was the nearest major city.

We were both amazed at how many we found, and sent requests to a few of the ones that sounded like our kind of people. We had little hope, since it was fairly last minute (it was about 7:30pm and we needed a place for that same night), but just a short while later one of them called us back. The man on the phone, Steven, said that we were very welcome to come crash at his place, gave us recommendations for what neighborhood to go for some good food and said he and his wife would come join us for a beer.

Cleveland by night.

After a quick loop around downtown Cleveland we drove over a bridge adorned with two gigantic statues — it felt almost like they belonged in Lord of the Rings or that latest Thor movie — and took us to the West Side. This part of town used to be independent and called Ohio City, a name you still see used a lot. We found an open parking spot right next to a place called Market Garden Brewery. They brew beers in-house and grow their own produce in a garden out back. I ordered the wheat beer, which was delicious, and we split a market salad and three shrimp tacos.

The Market Garden Brewery in Ohio City. The large neon sign that says “BEER” may have helped to draw us in.

Dinner: a delicious, locally grown, salad.

Market Garden also brews many different kinds of beer.

Enjoying a delicious, house-made wheat beer. Life is good.

Our couchsurfing hosts showed up right as we had finished our meal, and we shared another beer. On our way back to their house, they took us by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Since we would not have time to go, at least we had seen it from the outside. They lived in a place a few minutes outside town called Cleveland Heights. To our great joy, our bed for the evening was located on a sleeping porch, complete with Japanese ceiling lanterns. As we fell asleep to the soothing sound of crickets right outside the screened doors, I could not help but think that this, although my first, was definitely not my last couchsurfing experience.

Day Two – Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa

We awoke to the smell of coffee, which was being freshly brewed in our hosts’ kitchen. After a cup or two and some good conversation, Steven took us to see the old knitting mill, where Ohio Knitting Mills, the heritage clothing company he is working to revive, was located. Awestruck by all the amazing textiles, we stayed a bit longer than our schedule really allowed, but it was definitely worth it. And I came away with a few great pieces of vintage (but never worn!) knits from the 1960s.

We began the day with a visit to Ohio Knitting Mills, an old heritage clothing brand that our Couchsurfing host is in the midst of reviving.

It was great to see the more industrial parts of Cleveland. It was obvious that this is a town where they like to make things.

Before hitting the highway, we stopped at Aladdin’s Baking Company, a Middle Eastern bakery (recommended by our host), to get some hummus, tabouleh and pitas for the road. Despite executing the utmost carefulness, I managed to spill everything I could possible spill on my tights and tank. That’s just a part of any road trip I guess. We blazed through the remainder of Ohio as well as Indiana, stopping only once for a rest room break and tea/coffee.

On the road again: The Ohio Turnpike, aka I-80/90, toward Indiana.

Indiana farm country.

Midway through Indiana we saw a big truck dousing a field of corn in pesticides — a grim reminder of the (non-organic) reality behind many of these vast fields that surround the highway on both sides.

Beautiful skies on the approach to Iowa City.

Before entering Illinois we passed by the exit for Gary, Indiana, the birth place of Michael Jackson. It was crazy to see the quaint two-lane highway we had been traveling on thus far turn into a full-on five-lane freeway as we got closer to Chicago. Thankfully we did not get stuck in traffic, and continued on through the entire state. We had our sights set on reaching Des Moines, Iowa before finding a room for the night. We only made it to Iowa City and in accordance with my “no chain hotels” policy, got a room at a small mom-and-pop motel. Unfortunately the rooms smelled like someone had been chain-smoking in there for about three decades, so we asked for our money back and checked in at the only other option around, a medieval-themed Best Western. Gargoyles greeted us at the gates and there was a small mote (with gold fish swimming in it) and a draw bridge at the entrance to the lobby. Come on, that’s pretty cool. Even if it happened to be a Best Western, it certainly wasn’t a mainstream one.

The Cantebury Inn, our medieval-themed home for the night.

Day Three – Iowa, Nebraska

After a late start, we again found ourselves driving through endless corn fields. I had a strong desire to stop the car and run through the corn rows to really embrace the being in the middle of America, but I figured the people around here might have guns and it would be best to resist.

Picturesque Iowa corn fields.

The monotonous corn-field driving-meditation was quickly interrupted when we were pulled over by a police car despite driving only about 2 mph over the speed limit (on cruise control). After being separately interrogated about who we are, what we do, where we are going and what’s in all those bags in the bag, we were let go with a warning. Still confused and startled (I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been interrogated by police), we came to the conclusion that we had been culturally profiled — two kind of hippie-looking people in a MINI Cooper with New York State plates, stuffed with suitcases.

Pulled over by the police in Iowa. Driving a MINI Cooper with New York plates and lots of luggage is apparently suspicious here.

After a few more hours we entered Nebraska, and even though I don’t eat steak I felt like a visit to an old school Omaha steak house was warranted. After some Yelp-ing, I found a place called The Drover, that had all kinds of people raving about the steaks and complaining about the decor being dated — perfect. The place turned out to be everything we had hoped for. Located behind some kind of hospital, the space was dark and looked like it had not changed at all since the early 70s — lots of dark wood and brick walls. There were several small rooms with about four tables each and another room that housed the bar. All the patrons seemed to be older locals or business men passing through.

The Drover in Omaha, Nebraska.

Great early 70s decor and whiskey-marinated steaks (if you’re into that kind of thing).

Since I don’t eat meat I decided to go with the mushroom burger but was sort of confused when the waiter asked how I wanted it cooked. “You mean you cook it different ways?” I asked, still not catching on to what was going on here. “Yeah,” he said, with the incredible patience of someone who caters to a lot of tourists, “you can have it well-done or more raw, up to you.” Finally the light went on in my head. This was not a mushroom burger as in veggie burger, but an actual hamburger with mushrooms on it. “Oh, so it’s a MEAT burger?!” I asked, instantly aware of how strange that sounded in an establishment such as this one. How funny it is that after living in New York for so long you just assume that every place like this has a veggie burger option, clearly it is not so in most parts of the country. The waiter kindly agreed to make me a baked potato with sauteed mushrooms on top, which I had with the (very well-stocked) salad bar. It was actually a very satisfying meal. The great thing about steak houses in that they usually have really good red wine, which was true in this case as well, and also meant that we would not drive any further today.

Enjoying a glass of great red wine and a baked potato with mushrooms, after realizing that a mushroom burger in these parts of the country is not what I think it is.

Tired and stuffed we used the Kayak app to find a (non-mainstream) hotel for the night and came across one called Carol Hotel that was in our price range (cheap as possible) and closeby. Something about the type looked strangely familiar and when we got there I realized that this used to be a Clarion Hotel and that the (very clever) new owners had chosen the name based on how they could scramble and reuse the letters in the neon sign on the facade. Very creative recycling.

The Carol Hotel in Omaha, Nebraska displayed some pretty creative reuse of neon signage.

As always when in hotel rooms, I fell asleep watching TV, happy that we were only halfway through our cross-country journey. 1,246 miles down, 1,626 to go.

In my teen years, my father and I used to take “dad and daughter” road trips; which included explorations through wild parts of the west. His goal was to encourage my love of the outdoors and experiential learning, as well as ensure he enjoyed a great spring break as well. So this year when he asked if I wanted to resurrect the tradition, I said yes. I needed some time outside, so we headed for the Southwest.

Sustaining a green lifestyle isn’t just about the daily choices that you make – recycling, choosing reusable bags over plastic, opting for organic cotton instead of conventional – it’s also about remembering why you make those choices. For a lot of us, that means making sure that we do all we can to lessen our impact on the environment that we inhabit. But why? Travel is often the best way to give us that reason.

Seeing an inspiring natural place first hand is one of the most effective catalysts for getting us to realize just why we should choose a greener, more sustainable and more conscious lifestyle. If you’re stuck in an urban environment all your life with no access to green spaces or open landscapes, how would you know that these places need to be protected to ensure their continued survival?

Experiencing the places that we believe in protecting doesn’t have to be about taking off on an epic adventure; it can be as simple as exploring your local state park, or even helping in a weekend of trail maintenance. Protected natural spaces are created for two reasons: to ensure their survival and make sure that people can enjoy them in a low impact and respectful way. Visiting these places is simply a way of showing your continued support for the natural environment and why we need to be taking everyday steps to do all that we can to live with a smaller impact.

Standing at the edge of a canyon, with hundreds of miles of vast, open landscape spread out before you, with an intense blue sky dotted with clouds, you easily forget all the emails, to-do lists and expectations that wait for you at home. All that you’re focused on is the amazing space in front of you; how massive, powerful and beautiful it really is. That’s what’s worth protecting. And that’s why we promote living greener lifestyles.

Even if your travels don’t take you to protected spaces, you can still do your part to support them, to ensure that our society is having the chance at experiencing them firsthand and being moved to take care of them. Here is just a sampling of the many great independent organizations that are working hard to ensure that our country’s unique places stick around for the next generation:

• National Parks Conservation Association
• The Yosemite Fund (who is soon merging with the Yosemite Association to provide a new era of support for this iconic North American park)
• Southern Utah Wilderness Alliance
• Glacier National Park Fund
• Appalachian Trail Conservancy

Image: Anna Brones

If you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, the highway that’s the best.
Get your kicks on Route 66!
- Bobby Troup

There’s scarcely a more classically American form of travel than the road trip.

The great American road trip is immortalized in art – from Jack Kerouac to Thelma and Louise – but the myth is firmly planted in reality. Americans love their cars and the freedom of the open road and with such a vast, beautiful country to explore, who can blame them?

More Americans own a passport than ever before but it’s still only one in three and as the recession bites, vacationing close to home is bound to become even more popular. But while air travel gets the lion’s share of the bad press about carbon dioxide emissions, we all know driving ain’t that green, either.

For starters, road trips tend to lend themselves to prepackaged junk food, which is bad for you and even worse for the environment.

Even with the best intentions in the world, exhaustion and a lack of choice on the road can prompt you to make choices you wouldn’t necessarily make at home. Smart travelers – those that are green, frugal, health conscious or all of the above – travel with a cool box with healthy, fresh food in the trunk so they don’t need takeaways, and plan their trips to make time to stop for proper meals. They also know that perfection is impossible and instead focus on making the best choices in the circumstances.

The biggest problem with a road trip is guzzling all that gas and the governors of the West Coast states – California, Oregon and Washington – are trying to change that. They envision a “green freeway” running down the West Coast from British Columbia, Canada to Baja, Mexico. The idea is that drivers of eco-friendly cars could pull off the green pit stops to charge, or swap out, their electric-vehicle batteries or fill their tanks with biodiesel, ethanol, hydrogen or compressed natural gas.

It sounds like a truly exciting idea and I hope it comes to reality. Sadly that’s not guaranteed – there is resistance to from the likes of the National Association of Truck Stop Operators (Natso) and national gasoline distribution groups.

It’s a shame existing service stations don’t see this as an opportunity rather than a threat, but perhaps unsurprising. If you live in one of these three states and would like to see the project happen, it’s worth writing to your governor or state legislature to voice your support, so the idea doesn’t get killed before it even gets off the ground. You could even write to Natso to suggest their members should embrace the idea as a new business opportunity and work with government to make it happen.