You Need to Get the Basics Right! On the Road and in Life.

You Need to Get the Basics Right! On the Road and in Life.

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Ralf Klüber
Aug 01, 2025 • 4 min read

Life on the road looks idyllic from the outside: endless views, quiet sunsets, and remote adventures. But when the basics go wrong, everything starts to unravel. This week reminded us of something far more important: if the basics aren’t right, nothing feels right.

For us, the basics are simple. Fuel in the tank, hot water, heat in the truck, and a stocked fridge. When these are in place, everything else is manageable, even the unexpected. But last week, that foundation cracked. And with it, so did our peace of mind.

It started while we were parked at a breathtaking lighthouse after an endless washboard gravel road around a remote Icelandic peninsula. I was outside flying the drone, catching the last golden rays before the rain moved in. Then my phone buzzed. A message from Annika: “Come back. No electricity. Can’t cook.”

Trouble Shooting Mode

I returned to the truck and jumped into troubleshooting mode. Behind the fuse panel, the ground fault circuit interrupter had tripped. That usually means water had entered the heating unit’s storage box. I reset it after switching off the heating system, and power returned. Annika could cook again. Relief.

But what followed was a mystery. The box was full of greasy liquid, not quite diesel, definitely not water. Three centimeters of it pooling at the bottom.

With immediate help from the builder of our cabin and the manufacturer of the heating system, we identified the problem. A nut, deep inside the heating system, had loosened from the constant rattling of gravel roads. I could see it dripping, but I couldn’t reach it. So I drained the entire system (about 25 liters) and we limped to a nearby campsite with no heating, no hot water, and a lot of unanswered questions.

Over the weekend, we bucket-showered with stove-heated water and kept warm with layers. On Monday, we made it to a workshop in Reykjavik, where I teamed up with a kind Icelandic mechanic named Arn.

Seven hours later, we had the heating system dismantled, the leaky screw tightened with Loctite, and everything reassembled. It turned back on immediately. Proof of the system’s overall robustness.

The saga didn’t end there. We still need to get remaining air out of the radiators and the underfloor heating system, which required taking off part of the wall paneling. Six days in, today is the first day we seem to be back to normal.

This experience drained Annika and me more than I expected. We had more stress between the two of us this week than in the last six months combined.

When the basics fall apart, everything else becomes harder.

This isn’t just a travel issue.

It’s important to identify your personal basics, your non-negotiables. Maybe it’s not heating and hot water. Maybe it’s a good night’s sleep, quiet space, food prep, or even your morning coffee. Whatever they are, make sure they’re covered. Always. Life gets too chaotic to be stressed about avoidable things.

Now that the heating is working again, we’re back on the road, heading toward the magical Westfjords of Iceland.

The week also brought moments of magic.

Despite the chaos, we took a breathtaking off-road trail deep into the highlands. We stayed at an incredibly remote campsite, without heating. We hiked into quiet mountains that felt like another planet. We saw incredible waterfalls.

We reconnected with fellow travelers we had met before boarding the ferry to Iceland and stayed in touch via Instagram. They noticed we were in Reykjavik too, so we shared dinner with them and their two wonderful kids.

Later that night, another overlander couple waved as we returned to our truck. Moments after, they knocked on our door, curious to see our home on wheels. We invited them in and swapped travel tips. One of their suggestions was to visit the National Museum in Reykjavik.

After a peaceful night, we parked near the museum to finally test our heating system. We toured the museum for three hours. When we returned, the inside of the truck was a cozy 25°C. A simple comfort, but one we now deeply appreciate.

Whatever journey you’re on, make sure your foundations are strong. They are what allow the rest of life to flow.