July 31 St. Ignace, MI
Puck didn't wake me up this morning, so I got a later start. I should have known when he didn't eat his breakfast that something was up, but I blithely put it away, packed up, and set off down a scenic windy bouncy road bordering Lake Superior. It was very pretty (and I think I may try staying in Eagle Harbor next time), but by the time I got back to the main road I was smelling something bad. And then I heard Puck trying to cover something up (he was in his nylon carrier), which I knew couldn't be good. I stopped in Calumet and found that Puck had had copious diarrhea and possibly vomited during the hour or so since we'd left. I cleaned it up (luckily the nylon is water resistant and it wiped right up) and found Puck had gone to the front of the bunk and wasn't coming down. Well, I didn't want to put him in the carrier right away, so I let him ride up there.
I stopped an hour or so later in Ishpeming, because I was worried about him having diarrhea on my bed, and found he hadn't. But I also found that Nell had vomited and defecated in her carrier! So I put her, Puck, and the big litter box in the nylon carrier (which had dried), wiped up as much of the ick as I could, and kept going. I have no idea, by the way, why this happened; I haven't changed their food, they've been drinking bottled water, and they haven't been exposed to anything. Puck I know is delicate, but Nell? I'm hoping it was the winding road. Which reminds me: I need to go hose down the carrier and the bed inside it. What fun.
It was a lovely day, other than the bodily fluid incidents. Sunny, a bit breezy, and Lake Superior was just beautiful. I stopped in Munising to get a couple of pasties (one I ate for lunch, and one I'm eating now) and headed down to Lake Michigan, which was also beautiful and somehow looked tropical! The colors of the water were similar to that of Panam City on some days, light greens and turquoises and such, although I'm sure that the water temperature was not the same!
I'm in the KOA at St. Ignace. It took several tries to find a spot level enough for my few blocks to finish the job (I really have to get more blocks!) and also allow my electric to reach the boxes. But we're in the shade, so I don't feel too bad about leaving them tomorrow here. Hopefully the stomachs will settle a bit (as I typed this Puck did a huge burp--he ate most of his wet food, and I hope it stays down!) as I go to Mackinac Island and eat and walk. There's supposed to be a line of rain/storms coming through tomorrow afternoon, but I'm going to try to get over early and see what I want to see and get home before they hit, ideally.
I've done laundry and swam (the pool was heated to the ideal temperature: cool enough to be refreshing but warm enough to be comfortable). There's some nice Canadians in the spot across the way that I was talking to at the pool; I may go over and say hi.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
On the shores of Gitchee Gumee
July 27-30 Copper Harbor, MI
Ah, the joys of relaxation. And cool breezes and drizzle and mosquitoes . . .
Tuesday I walked around town. Granted, this didn't take long; Copper Harbor is about seven blocks by three, and other than the main drag (called Gratiot--and you're a Michigander if you know how to pronounce that!) it was either private homes or motels/cottages. Lots and lots of cottages. But I did hit the tourist traps, and bought myself a necklace consisting of a hunk of local copper pretty much how it came out of the earth. Then I ate at a local restaurant that advertised pasties. Well, it was OK. It was indeed a bit dry and could have had more taste, but it wasn't bad with ketchup (I plan to stop in Munising for very tasty pasties tomorrow on the way south). Then I spent a lot of time sitting on benches by the water and reading, or laying on my couch with the cats and reading, or napping.
Wednesday I walked to the state park about a mile away. At Ft. Wilkins they have many buildings from the 1840's (and others that were reconstructed by the CCC during the Depression) showing what life was like while the fort was garrisoned (it was created to keep order during the big copper rush in the late 1840's here, and while it closed after three years it was temporarily reopened after the Civil War, mostly to give veterans something to do). There are also living history people around, answering questions and doing chores and suchlike. As an actor, I feel really weird about living history people; I'm not sure why, but I often find it difficult to go along with the program, particularly when the people involved are really young. These were students from Northern Michigan U, and they did quite well. So I wandered around the fort and read up on how they lived, then walked along the lake and looked at the various lighthouses that have been around since the 1840's and such. And then I came back and read and napped . . . you see the pattern.
Today dawned rather nasty (as had yesterday, although it had cleared up quickly then), and while I had thought about going to Isle Royale for the day, the weather dissuaded me. So I walked around town some more, chatted with the lady running the old-time General Store (as well as buying some local chocolate), and sat by the lake and read until it began to rain, then came back and sat on the couch and--oh hell, you know the drill by now. I did clean the bathroom today, and plan to clean the kitchen after dinner. I've read three books since I got here, and am halfway through the fourth (and these aren't small books).
I've got a lead on a place to live in Panama City; it's in a complex where I've seriously considered buying a unit, so this may kill two birds with one stone. If so, I may get back into town a few days earlier than I had planned, to get mostly moved before school starts. Hey, at least I don't have that much to move anymore! I still plan to go to Mackinac City on Saturday; the weather looks like it will mostly cooperate. But then I may just head straight home. We'll see; I've certainly changed my mind enough times on this trip, who knows?
Ah, the joys of relaxation. And cool breezes and drizzle and mosquitoes . . .
Tuesday I walked around town. Granted, this didn't take long; Copper Harbor is about seven blocks by three, and other than the main drag (called Gratiot--and you're a Michigander if you know how to pronounce that!) it was either private homes or motels/cottages. Lots and lots of cottages. But I did hit the tourist traps, and bought myself a necklace consisting of a hunk of local copper pretty much how it came out of the earth. Then I ate at a local restaurant that advertised pasties. Well, it was OK. It was indeed a bit dry and could have had more taste, but it wasn't bad with ketchup (I plan to stop in Munising for very tasty pasties tomorrow on the way south). Then I spent a lot of time sitting on benches by the water and reading, or laying on my couch with the cats and reading, or napping.
Wednesday I walked to the state park about a mile away. At Ft. Wilkins they have many buildings from the 1840's (and others that were reconstructed by the CCC during the Depression) showing what life was like while the fort was garrisoned (it was created to keep order during the big copper rush in the late 1840's here, and while it closed after three years it was temporarily reopened after the Civil War, mostly to give veterans something to do). There are also living history people around, answering questions and doing chores and suchlike. As an actor, I feel really weird about living history people; I'm not sure why, but I often find it difficult to go along with the program, particularly when the people involved are really young. These were students from Northern Michigan U, and they did quite well. So I wandered around the fort and read up on how they lived, then walked along the lake and looked at the various lighthouses that have been around since the 1840's and such. And then I came back and read and napped . . . you see the pattern.
Today dawned rather nasty (as had yesterday, although it had cleared up quickly then), and while I had thought about going to Isle Royale for the day, the weather dissuaded me. So I walked around town some more, chatted with the lady running the old-time General Store (as well as buying some local chocolate), and sat by the lake and read until it began to rain, then came back and sat on the couch and--oh hell, you know the drill by now. I did clean the bathroom today, and plan to clean the kitchen after dinner. I've read three books since I got here, and am halfway through the fourth (and these aren't small books).
I've got a lead on a place to live in Panama City; it's in a complex where I've seriously considered buying a unit, so this may kill two birds with one stone. If so, I may get back into town a few days earlier than I had planned, to get mostly moved before school starts. Hey, at least I don't have that much to move anymore! I still plan to go to Mackinac City on Saturday; the weather looks like it will mostly cooperate. But then I may just head straight home. We'll see; I've certainly changed my mind enough times on this trip, who knows?
Monday, July 27, 2009
On to the Northland!
July 26 Red Cliff, WI
This morning I got up with the sun, as usual, and headed out around 8am. I knew I had to get gas fairly soon, and also that I wanted to stop at a WalMart or similar store to stock up on provisions. I headed north on I-35 and stopped in Faribault (which is also where my homeward path crossed the outward one--the great circle tour has become a figure eight!). It was early enough that even though the sun was out in force I felt OK about leaving the cats in the RV (with various vents open), and headed in. I bought lots of stuff, much of which I actually needed, as well as a huge half-sandwich for breakfast. After loading everything into the RV (which was fun, given that I couldn't use the side door (since Puck's kennel was there!) and had to load everything through the driver's side door and back through the narrow passage around the slide), I filled up with diesel and headed out. Into more construction.
Minnesota likes to crowd both directions of interstate into one side of the road, so there are two lanes of traffic whizzing past each other. Which direction crosses over seems to alternate. Luckily the traffic wasn't too bad. There wasn't any construction around St. Paul, although I took the truck route alternate anyway, but I don't like driving on interstates. Since I'm not going fast, it seems like everyone is driving like an idiot and the road surface is usually rutted and there's nothing to see. So, once past the Twin Cities, I headed out onto a secondary road. The road surface continued to be bad until (I'm not kidding here) I crossed into Wisconsin. Then it got better pretty much immediately, which was good because I was tired of ka-THUMP ka-THUMP ka-THUMP ka-BANGBANGBANG CLATTER THUMP. And I feel good only going 55 or so on the secondary roads, and the scenery is much better.
So I meandered up toward Superior (both the town and the lake). Lots of trees and hills, and places called "Moose Junction". Superior (the town) was having a county fair, and I was really worried that I wouldn't be able to find a place to stay. The town itself really looks like what it is: a down-at-the-heels steeltown/port that isn't really rebounding yet. Lots of old buildings, roads all chopped up, with no way to get near the water since that's where the industry is.
I headed east out of town on Rt. 2, turned off at the campground I was going to stay at, and decided to keep going. I know that trees in a campground are a nuisance, since the roots get into everything and the branches/leaves/limbs are annoying, but I didn't drive up to the Northwoods to stay at a campground with dust billowing through it. I found myself on the road through a peninsula headed toward the Apostle islands, and kept going. A really lovely area, it looks something like Prince Edward Island without the red soil: lots of farms and trees and hills, with glimpses of blue Lake Superior in the distance. I didn't stop at any of the rest areas along the lake, because it was getting late and I don't like to keep the cats imprisoned any longer than I have to.
I drove past the Buffalo Bay campground and had to turn around. It's on an Indian reservation, and is both a bustling marina and a campground on a hill just above the lake. Let me emphasize "hill". The bad thing about having a small RV is that it's very difficult to make level (which you need to do for the refrigerator and such to work correctly). I tried four different campsites before I found one that I could handle, since it only required blocks under the front wheels. It had a bit of a view, and was backing up to the hill, but I was really tired and was glad to have it.
Across the street was the requisite Indian casino. It looked a bit rough, but I headed over anyway since I heard there was a restaurant and that the casino gave anyone staying at the campground $10 in free dollar tokens. Well, once I walked in and smelled the ingrained cigarette smoke I knew I wasn't going to eat there, but I did get my free $10. I then futzed around the casino a bit, since I didn't want to just get the coins and then trade them in immediately for cash, and I actually won another dollar on a 2-cent machine (don't ask me how; it looked like the thing had a grand-mal seizure, asked me to resuscitate it, and then gave me a dollar), so I was $11 ahead.
Then back to the campground, a shower, a bit of sudoku, and sleep.
July 27 Copper Harbor, MI
I slept really, really well last night. I think I woke up once and that was it. Puck of course woke me up at the crack of dawn, though I did take a nap after I had fed them and dressed and everything (have I mentioned how much I love having a couch and a dinette and a bed all separate from one another? I love my couch!). I still managed to set off at 8am CT (which tells you how early Puck got me up).
I drove through some lovely little towns on the way back to route 2. They looked a lot like New England/Maritimes towns, built on a hill around a harbor, lots of lovely architecture and such. Route 2, on the other hand, was pretty much like an interstate, with nothing to see. Once into Michigan I turned off on the road to the Keewanau Peninsula, and then took a side road to look at the lake and oh--construction! I wanted to stop in Houghton to get lunch and gas, but I didn't turn off right away when I saw a gas station and then ran into construction, so I kept going. Over the Keewanau canal, back up into the hills (the town across from Houghton has a SWITCH-BACKED main road--damn, I haven't run into a switchback since Montana!), still looking for gas (or lunch) but not finding any. The road was quite scenic, particularly the part right before Copper Harbor: the trees were right next to the road, the road was windy and up hill/down dale, and if I hadn't been driving a beheamoth and watching out for deer (a doe with fawn crossed right in front of me) I would have enjoyed it more. At least the weather was cooperating: sunny and around 72.
I finally drove into Copper Harbor, which is tiny. Really tiny. I went to the state park (easy to find, since the highway dead-ends there) and checked in. Turns out that not only do I have to pay $8 for an entry permit for the park, I have to pay $8 A DAY, even if I don't move the RV. Which made me grumpy; suddenly a fairly reasonable campground is damn expensive. Then I find my site. I had picked it out on the internet because it was the only one that didn't say anything about being on a hill. Which, as it turns out, it was. When I had the rig parked in the appropriate spot, it was tilted rather dramatically--more dramatically than my few levelling blocks could fix. If I parked it sideways across the site, it fit, but then I couldn't use the electric and I suspect the park ranger would get grumpy about me parking all over the grass. I tried and tried to make it fit and then, realizing there was a better deal, called the local RV resort to see if they had room. They did. So I packed back up (including dumping BOTH cats into the small hard-sided carrier, since it would be a short trip and I couldn't be bothered to get Puck's kennel set up) and went back to the park office and asked for a refund--which they nicely gave me, except for the nonrefundable deposit. I even got tonight's money back! Then I trooped over to the Lake Fanny Hooe (yes, that's its real name) RV resort, and got a spot. Again, it took me four tries to find one that fit, but now we're in a nice sunny spot (which shouldn't be a problem, if the weather does what they say it will) which is pretty level. And even after losing the deposit, I'll be paying less to stay here than at the state park--and here I have WiFi!
The cats are VERY glad to be here, as am I; I'm ready to stay put for a while. We're here four nights, which should be a good time, and I'm already almost halfway through a book I started at dinner. Which I ate at the Harbor Haus, which is supposed to be THE place to eat here. I didn't realize quite how bad I looked when I went in (it had been a long day, and I sweated a lot while finding a spot and walking), but the waitress seated me anyway with a lovely view of the lake. I had whitefish wrapped in bacon which had been cooked on a plank (which was really damn tasty) with mushroom risotto, mixed veggies and a huge salad, and someday I may be hungry again. The sun is just setting, the odor of wood fires is wafting everywhere (come on breeze!), I have WiFi, and a fluffy cat is curled up next to me--life is good.
This morning I got up with the sun, as usual, and headed out around 8am. I knew I had to get gas fairly soon, and also that I wanted to stop at a WalMart or similar store to stock up on provisions. I headed north on I-35 and stopped in Faribault (which is also where my homeward path crossed the outward one--the great circle tour has become a figure eight!). It was early enough that even though the sun was out in force I felt OK about leaving the cats in the RV (with various vents open), and headed in. I bought lots of stuff, much of which I actually needed, as well as a huge half-sandwich for breakfast. After loading everything into the RV (which was fun, given that I couldn't use the side door (since Puck's kennel was there!) and had to load everything through the driver's side door and back through the narrow passage around the slide), I filled up with diesel and headed out. Into more construction.
Minnesota likes to crowd both directions of interstate into one side of the road, so there are two lanes of traffic whizzing past each other. Which direction crosses over seems to alternate. Luckily the traffic wasn't too bad. There wasn't any construction around St. Paul, although I took the truck route alternate anyway, but I don't like driving on interstates. Since I'm not going fast, it seems like everyone is driving like an idiot and the road surface is usually rutted and there's nothing to see. So, once past the Twin Cities, I headed out onto a secondary road. The road surface continued to be bad until (I'm not kidding here) I crossed into Wisconsin. Then it got better pretty much immediately, which was good because I was tired of ka-THUMP ka-THUMP ka-THUMP ka-BANGBANGBANG CLATTER THUMP. And I feel good only going 55 or so on the secondary roads, and the scenery is much better.
So I meandered up toward Superior (both the town and the lake). Lots of trees and hills, and places called "Moose Junction". Superior (the town) was having a county fair, and I was really worried that I wouldn't be able to find a place to stay. The town itself really looks like what it is: a down-at-the-heels steeltown/port that isn't really rebounding yet. Lots of old buildings, roads all chopped up, with no way to get near the water since that's where the industry is.
I headed east out of town on Rt. 2, turned off at the campground I was going to stay at, and decided to keep going. I know that trees in a campground are a nuisance, since the roots get into everything and the branches/leaves/limbs are annoying, but I didn't drive up to the Northwoods to stay at a campground with dust billowing through it. I found myself on the road through a peninsula headed toward the Apostle islands, and kept going. A really lovely area, it looks something like Prince Edward Island without the red soil: lots of farms and trees and hills, with glimpses of blue Lake Superior in the distance. I didn't stop at any of the rest areas along the lake, because it was getting late and I don't like to keep the cats imprisoned any longer than I have to.
I drove past the Buffalo Bay campground and had to turn around. It's on an Indian reservation, and is both a bustling marina and a campground on a hill just above the lake. Let me emphasize "hill". The bad thing about having a small RV is that it's very difficult to make level (which you need to do for the refrigerator and such to work correctly). I tried four different campsites before I found one that I could handle, since it only required blocks under the front wheels. It had a bit of a view, and was backing up to the hill, but I was really tired and was glad to have it.
Across the street was the requisite Indian casino. It looked a bit rough, but I headed over anyway since I heard there was a restaurant and that the casino gave anyone staying at the campground $10 in free dollar tokens. Well, once I walked in and smelled the ingrained cigarette smoke I knew I wasn't going to eat there, but I did get my free $10. I then futzed around the casino a bit, since I didn't want to just get the coins and then trade them in immediately for cash, and I actually won another dollar on a 2-cent machine (don't ask me how; it looked like the thing had a grand-mal seizure, asked me to resuscitate it, and then gave me a dollar), so I was $11 ahead.
Then back to the campground, a shower, a bit of sudoku, and sleep.
July 27 Copper Harbor, MI
I slept really, really well last night. I think I woke up once and that was it. Puck of course woke me up at the crack of dawn, though I did take a nap after I had fed them and dressed and everything (have I mentioned how much I love having a couch and a dinette and a bed all separate from one another? I love my couch!). I still managed to set off at 8am CT (which tells you how early Puck got me up).
I drove through some lovely little towns on the way back to route 2. They looked a lot like New England/Maritimes towns, built on a hill around a harbor, lots of lovely architecture and such. Route 2, on the other hand, was pretty much like an interstate, with nothing to see. Once into Michigan I turned off on the road to the Keewanau Peninsula, and then took a side road to look at the lake and oh--construction! I wanted to stop in Houghton to get lunch and gas, but I didn't turn off right away when I saw a gas station and then ran into construction, so I kept going. Over the Keewanau canal, back up into the hills (the town across from Houghton has a SWITCH-BACKED main road--damn, I haven't run into a switchback since Montana!), still looking for gas (or lunch) but not finding any. The road was quite scenic, particularly the part right before Copper Harbor: the trees were right next to the road, the road was windy and up hill/down dale, and if I hadn't been driving a beheamoth and watching out for deer (a doe with fawn crossed right in front of me) I would have enjoyed it more. At least the weather was cooperating: sunny and around 72.
I finally drove into Copper Harbor, which is tiny. Really tiny. I went to the state park (easy to find, since the highway dead-ends there) and checked in. Turns out that not only do I have to pay $8 for an entry permit for the park, I have to pay $8 A DAY, even if I don't move the RV. Which made me grumpy; suddenly a fairly reasonable campground is damn expensive. Then I find my site. I had picked it out on the internet because it was the only one that didn't say anything about being on a hill. Which, as it turns out, it was. When I had the rig parked in the appropriate spot, it was tilted rather dramatically--more dramatically than my few levelling blocks could fix. If I parked it sideways across the site, it fit, but then I couldn't use the electric and I suspect the park ranger would get grumpy about me parking all over the grass. I tried and tried to make it fit and then, realizing there was a better deal, called the local RV resort to see if they had room. They did. So I packed back up (including dumping BOTH cats into the small hard-sided carrier, since it would be a short trip and I couldn't be bothered to get Puck's kennel set up) and went back to the park office and asked for a refund--which they nicely gave me, except for the nonrefundable deposit. I even got tonight's money back! Then I trooped over to the Lake Fanny Hooe (yes, that's its real name) RV resort, and got a spot. Again, it took me four tries to find one that fit, but now we're in a nice sunny spot (which shouldn't be a problem, if the weather does what they say it will) which is pretty level. And even after losing the deposit, I'll be paying less to stay here than at the state park--and here I have WiFi!
The cats are VERY glad to be here, as am I; I'm ready to stay put for a while. We're here four nights, which should be a good time, and I'm already almost halfway through a book I started at dinner. Which I ate at the Harbor Haus, which is supposed to be THE place to eat here. I didn't realize quite how bad I looked when I went in (it had been a long day, and I sweated a lot while finding a spot and walking), but the waitress seated me anyway with a lovely view of the lake. I had whitefish wrapped in bacon which had been cooked on a plank (which was really damn tasty) with mushroom risotto, mixed veggies and a huge salad, and someday I may be hungry again. The sun is just setting, the odor of wood fires is wafting everywhere (come on breeze!), I have WiFi, and a fluffy cat is curled up next to me--life is good.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Not much to say
Today I drove from Belvidere SD to Albert Lea, MN on I-90. Not tremendously exciting, no tourist stuff, so here is a list of random things I thought about today.
1. If you don't want flies around your car, clean off the dead bugs.
2. No matter how early you get up, someone will be up earlier and will be using the shower.
(well, not me--I was up at 6am local time, and yes the showers were full but I showered last night!)
3. If you're driving across SD on 90, stop at the Chamberlain rest area--lots of great Lewis and Clark stuff as well as great views.
4. The worst construction will always be when you're tired.
5. The radio station will always go to static when you can't spare a hand to look for another channel.
6. Always lock your door, even when you think you're securely closed it.
(after lunch I noticed the side door was rattling, which worried me since Puck's kennel kind of rests against it--it was indeed ajar, with the deadbolt the only thing holding it closed--I now wonder if someone at the truck stop I got lunch at tried to open the door?)
7. Everything old is new again--and not in a good way.
(I was in the store when a family came in who is living out of a tent, their car pulling a small trailer piled high with all of their belongings, looking for work--turns out it's a young couple with three kids, none over about 4 years old--they're looking for work, and are off to Ohio or Texas tomorrow--I guess the Okies have returned)
8. Always have at least a day's supply of drinking water on hand.
(I actually learned this in London, where much of the water is nasty-tasting--my current campground has egg water, which I hate, but I did fill up my jug last night where the water was OK, so I don't have to buy water tonight)
9. It will always take longer to get where you're going than you think it will.
10. Changing your mind mid-stream can be fun!
(after five nights in/around Copper Harbor, I'm going to spend a day at Mackinac Island, where I've never been--should be fun, if it's not pouring rain!)
1. If you don't want flies around your car, clean off the dead bugs.
2. No matter how early you get up, someone will be up earlier and will be using the shower.
(well, not me--I was up at 6am local time, and yes the showers were full but I showered last night!)
3. If you're driving across SD on 90, stop at the Chamberlain rest area--lots of great Lewis and Clark stuff as well as great views.
4. The worst construction will always be when you're tired.
5. The radio station will always go to static when you can't spare a hand to look for another channel.
6. Always lock your door, even when you think you're securely closed it.
(after lunch I noticed the side door was rattling, which worried me since Puck's kennel kind of rests against it--it was indeed ajar, with the deadbolt the only thing holding it closed--I now wonder if someone at the truck stop I got lunch at tried to open the door?)
7. Everything old is new again--and not in a good way.
(I was in the store when a family came in who is living out of a tent, their car pulling a small trailer piled high with all of their belongings, looking for work--turns out it's a young couple with three kids, none over about 4 years old--they're looking for work, and are off to Ohio or Texas tomorrow--I guess the Okies have returned)
8. Always have at least a day's supply of drinking water on hand.
(I actually learned this in London, where much of the water is nasty-tasting--my current campground has egg water, which I hate, but I did fill up my jug last night where the water was OK, so I don't have to buy water tonight)
9. It will always take longer to get where you're going than you think it will.
10. Changing your mind mid-stream can be fun!
(after five nights in/around Copper Harbor, I'm going to spend a day at Mackinac Island, where I've never been--should be fun, if it's not pouring rain!)
Eastward ho!
July 24 Belvidere/Midland, SD
Y'know, I think there are more flies in Douglas, SD, than in Florida. I got five flies in here just by quickly getting in and out of the RV. I've killed one, Puck has gotten two (judging from the dismembered parts I can find), and the remaining two are demoralized and on the run. Hopefully.
Also, the water at the Douglas KOA is probably the most chlorinated I've ever encountered. Not only wasn't it drinkable, but showering in it was not pleasant either. Good thing I still had water left from Dubois.
I left fairly early, got diesel and headed southeast. As part of this change of trip I had decided to go see the Oregon trail ruts and Register Cliff in Guernsey. The interstate was skirting what would be the last Rocky Mountain I'd see on this trip, and the Oregon Trail kept crossing the road (and if you knew where it was, you could still see where it ran). When I got to Guernsey it turned out the ruts were down a very (appropriately?) rutted dirt road that shook hell out of my rig and made me think my wheels were going to fall off again. Ouch. Then a fairly steep walk.
The wagons had to get over a hill here, which was made of soft stone. The wagons eventually wore a five-foot-deep, six-foot-wide and fairly long groove in the soft stone. You can see where the wheels went, where the hubs of the wheels scored the walls, and even where people walked. It was a bit eerie, to tell the truth; when I was standing in the middle of the ruts, I had the strangest feeling that I should get out of the way!
A few miles away, many of the 500,000 immigrants had carved their names in another soft cliff, and many of the names are still visible. Also at Register Cliff, there had been a Pony Express stop--it had never really occurred to me that the Pony Express followed the Oregon Trail (and then the California trail) on its way, with stops every 10-12 miles to change horses.
Actually there are four trails: Oregon Trail, California Trail (for the 49'ers), Mormon Trail, and Pony Express trail. They overlap a lot up until Fort Bridger in far southwest Wyoming, and then split to go their separate ways.
After Guernsey, the sightseeing for this part was over. I took a very secondary (but paved) road up to the main-ish route to the Black Hills, and went from foothills to plains in just that long. On the way up to the Black Hills, towns were few and far between: gotta love a sign that says "Next services 81 miles".
It was south of the Black Hills that two climatological things occured: it started to get cooler/cloudy, and the wind picked up. Way up. The same front that was cooling things down was making it really windy. So I didn't stop anywhere in the Black Hills--I was pretty much in "just keep going" mode, at least in part because there aren't that many campgrounds here and I wanted to make sure I got a spot--and I also didn't stop in Wall. It had warmed up and looked crowded and I was tired, so.
I stopped in the KOA east of Belvedire. Other than the famed 1880's Town!, famed in song, story, and "Dances with Wolves", there is nothing within sight here. Not towns, not trees, not nothing except for cows and the Interstate over there. The campground has a few small trees/shrubs, but I'd hate to be here when it's really hot. Hence, I'm continuing east. I hope to get to Minnesota today, or wherever, and then up to the UP of Michigan. It's supposed to be cool and maybe a bit rainy--yay moisture!
Y'know, I think there are more flies in Douglas, SD, than in Florida. I got five flies in here just by quickly getting in and out of the RV. I've killed one, Puck has gotten two (judging from the dismembered parts I can find), and the remaining two are demoralized and on the run. Hopefully.
Also, the water at the Douglas KOA is probably the most chlorinated I've ever encountered. Not only wasn't it drinkable, but showering in it was not pleasant either. Good thing I still had water left from Dubois.
I left fairly early, got diesel and headed southeast. As part of this change of trip I had decided to go see the Oregon trail ruts and Register Cliff in Guernsey. The interstate was skirting what would be the last Rocky Mountain I'd see on this trip, and the Oregon Trail kept crossing the road (and if you knew where it was, you could still see where it ran). When I got to Guernsey it turned out the ruts were down a very (appropriately?) rutted dirt road that shook hell out of my rig and made me think my wheels were going to fall off again. Ouch. Then a fairly steep walk.
The wagons had to get over a hill here, which was made of soft stone. The wagons eventually wore a five-foot-deep, six-foot-wide and fairly long groove in the soft stone. You can see where the wheels went, where the hubs of the wheels scored the walls, and even where people walked. It was a bit eerie, to tell the truth; when I was standing in the middle of the ruts, I had the strangest feeling that I should get out of the way!
A few miles away, many of the 500,000 immigrants had carved their names in another soft cliff, and many of the names are still visible. Also at Register Cliff, there had been a Pony Express stop--it had never really occurred to me that the Pony Express followed the Oregon Trail (and then the California trail) on its way, with stops every 10-12 miles to change horses.
Actually there are four trails: Oregon Trail, California Trail (for the 49'ers), Mormon Trail, and Pony Express trail. They overlap a lot up until Fort Bridger in far southwest Wyoming, and then split to go their separate ways.
After Guernsey, the sightseeing for this part was over. I took a very secondary (but paved) road up to the main-ish route to the Black Hills, and went from foothills to plains in just that long. On the way up to the Black Hills, towns were few and far between: gotta love a sign that says "Next services 81 miles".
It was south of the Black Hills that two climatological things occured: it started to get cooler/cloudy, and the wind picked up. Way up. The same front that was cooling things down was making it really windy. So I didn't stop anywhere in the Black Hills--I was pretty much in "just keep going" mode, at least in part because there aren't that many campgrounds here and I wanted to make sure I got a spot--and I also didn't stop in Wall. It had warmed up and looked crowded and I was tired, so.
I stopped in the KOA east of Belvedire. Other than the famed 1880's Town!, famed in song, story, and "Dances with Wolves", there is nothing within sight here. Not towns, not trees, not nothing except for cows and the Interstate over there. The campground has a few small trees/shrubs, but I'd hate to be here when it's really hot. Hence, I'm continuing east. I hope to get to Minnesota today, or wherever, and then up to the UP of Michigan. It's supposed to be cool and maybe a bit rainy--yay moisture!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Different direction
Douglas, WY
So I got fed up with being always dehydrated and hot and such, and decided to go east instead of south. So Nell got me up at 6:30 (who needs a clock?) and I left around 8am and headed to Ft. Washakie, on the Wind River Indian Reservation. Some say that Sacajawea is buried there, having lived to a very old age. That is, if she didn't die young in South Dakota, as others believe. I did find her headstone, and there's also a statue of her (well-decorated by admirers, as were many of the graves in this dry hilly cemetery).
I then got back on the road and headed to South Pass. Unlike most of the continental divide passes, this one is in a wide valley. You go up and up and up the valley, with no snow-capped mountains in site, and then all of a sudden you're across. It's not a low pass (7600 feet or so), but it is easily approached with wagons. I went up to the top and turned around and headed east.
Highway 287 (and later 220) follows the Oregon trail. There are signs indicating where the Trail crosses the highway, and in many places you can see a depression where all the wagons and people travelled. I stopped at a few landmarks for the travellers, most notably Independence Rock, which may have been covered with the carved signatures of migrants but looked to me more like it was covered by lichen. Because it was hot I didn't stay too long (the rig is pretty well insulated and I had had the air conditioning on, but there are limits to everything) and headed to Casper, and then to Douglas. Still sunny, still dry, although there were a few showers here and there (with most of the rain not reaching the ground), still very barren.
I'm tired of barren. So I've decided to go to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for the last week or so before I have to be back in Florida. It will indeed be cool and green and shady there, and maybe I won't have to drink a gallon of water a day to avoid dehydration. And they have mountains, of a sort anyway.
I'm in the KOA. Nice, even if the spot isn't quite level or shady. There sure seem to be a lot of long-term people here; lots have built foundations of a sort around the bottoms of their rigs, for storage and whatnot, or actual stairs to get in, or have dog pens and whatnot. I will say, it's interesting how these rural Wyoming campgrounds all have horse corrals for travellers. I know with horses you have to let them out a certain number of hours a day, and I always wondered where they did so. Apparently, in campgrounds! The pool was nice, if covered with wayward grasshoppers (the cemetery was FULL of them!).
Tomorrow it's off to Oregon Trail wagon ruts, the Black Hills, and maybe Wall Drug! I've already seen two Wall Drug signs, and expect to see many more.
So I got fed up with being always dehydrated and hot and such, and decided to go east instead of south. So Nell got me up at 6:30 (who needs a clock?) and I left around 8am and headed to Ft. Washakie, on the Wind River Indian Reservation. Some say that Sacajawea is buried there, having lived to a very old age. That is, if she didn't die young in South Dakota, as others believe. I did find her headstone, and there's also a statue of her (well-decorated by admirers, as were many of the graves in this dry hilly cemetery).
I then got back on the road and headed to South Pass. Unlike most of the continental divide passes, this one is in a wide valley. You go up and up and up the valley, with no snow-capped mountains in site, and then all of a sudden you're across. It's not a low pass (7600 feet or so), but it is easily approached with wagons. I went up to the top and turned around and headed east.
Highway 287 (and later 220) follows the Oregon trail. There are signs indicating where the Trail crosses the highway, and in many places you can see a depression where all the wagons and people travelled. I stopped at a few landmarks for the travellers, most notably Independence Rock, which may have been covered with the carved signatures of migrants but looked to me more like it was covered by lichen. Because it was hot I didn't stay too long (the rig is pretty well insulated and I had had the air conditioning on, but there are limits to everything) and headed to Casper, and then to Douglas. Still sunny, still dry, although there were a few showers here and there (with most of the rain not reaching the ground), still very barren.
I'm tired of barren. So I've decided to go to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for the last week or so before I have to be back in Florida. It will indeed be cool and green and shady there, and maybe I won't have to drink a gallon of water a day to avoid dehydration. And they have mountains, of a sort anyway.
I'm in the KOA. Nice, even if the spot isn't quite level or shady. There sure seem to be a lot of long-term people here; lots have built foundations of a sort around the bottoms of their rigs, for storage and whatnot, or actual stairs to get in, or have dog pens and whatnot. I will say, it's interesting how these rural Wyoming campgrounds all have horse corrals for travellers. I know with horses you have to let them out a certain number of hours a day, and I always wondered where they did so. Apparently, in campgrounds! The pool was nice, if covered with wayward grasshoppers (the cemetery was FULL of them!).
Tomorrow it's off to Oregon Trail wagon ruts, the Black Hills, and maybe Wall Drug! I've already seen two Wall Drug signs, and expect to see many more.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Yet another day in Dubois
I didn't sleep well and was tired, so now I'm still here. I will definitely be leaving tomorrow, but there's one problem: the only RV parks in northern mountainous Colorado, where I planned to spend the next week or so, are either crap or full or deathly expensive. So I'm mulling over whether to bag it for another trip and head east instead. Stay tuned!
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Just chillin' in Dubois
As much as one can chill in 80-degree weather, anyway. I decided to stay on an extra day, and moved to what might be the nicest campsite yet: shady, backing up to the Wind River, so I can hear a little creek fall into the river. I may stay yet another night, since I spent today walking and swimming and doing laundry and not "relaxing" as much as I could. Hey, it's a tough life . . . .
I suspect once I leave, it's going to be hotter than hell for a while (I'm actually in one of the cooler sections of the state, due mostly to it's altitude (over 6000 feet), so I'm enjoying it while it lasts. The prior people left some firewood, so I may try incinerating some hot dogs I bought, if I can get a fire going.
By the way, I feel much less negative about putting Nell in her kennel for travel. Since I was just moving from one site to another, I didn't pen up the cats. But I found that Nell chose to go into her kennel of her own free will; I really think she feels safer there. Puck, of course, decided to hang out ON TOP OF THE SLIDE. Let's just say it's a good thing I checked to see where he was before I extended the slide!
I suspect once I leave, it's going to be hotter than hell for a while (I'm actually in one of the cooler sections of the state, due mostly to it's altitude (over 6000 feet), so I'm enjoying it while it lasts. The prior people left some firewood, so I may try incinerating some hot dogs I bought, if I can get a fire going.
By the way, I feel much less negative about putting Nell in her kennel for travel. Since I was just moving from one site to another, I didn't pen up the cats. But I found that Nell chose to go into her kennel of her own free will; I really think she feels safer there. Puck, of course, decided to hang out ON TOP OF THE SLIDE. Let's just say it's a good thing I checked to see where he was before I extended the slide!
Monday, July 20, 2009
I hate construction. I really do.
July 20 Dubois, WY
Long day. Very long day. Even without the traffic and construction. Which sure as hell didn't help.
Slept well, although I had to pen Puck in the kennel since he was chewing on things he shouldn't be chewing on, so he spent part of the night alone. Then when I let him out he curled up against my stomach, which made me feel quite guilty.
We left around 8am. Nevada City is a gold-rush town made up of buildings that have been moved here from elsewhere, conserved, and created a little town that's been used in some movies. It's also closed off unless you pay money, so I just looked in from outside. Virginia City (the first territorial capital of Montana) is a bit more open and original. There's a main street with historical plaques on pretty much every building. It was still too early for anything to be open, but I don't need to buy anything anyway and I again walked up and down the street and read everything. It was nice to see the Opera House that a friend of mine worked at for a summer, but I don't know what the hell he did in his free time, because there's NOTHING here.
I then drove through Ennis and up the Madison River. There were flyfishermen everywhere, since the Madison River is apparently one of the big-time fly fishing streams anywhere. They were in boats and in the river itself, trying like mad to catch something. I stayed on the road and wound up in the 1959 earthquake area, where I stopped at the Visitor's Center. After a 7.3 earthquake, the whole side of a mountain avalanched down the slope and halfway up the other side, killing lots of people and blocking the road (and the river) for a good long time. I mostly remember it because of a book we bought back on the 1975 trip: The Night the Mountain Fell. Which they still sell at the gift store. I'm not sure what it is with me and national park disasters: my favorite Glacier book is of course "Night of the Grizzlies", and I loved the Grand Canyon books that told all of the gruesome/horrible/stupid ways people have died there. Hmmm.
I then drove to West Yellowstone. I had decided to see if there were any campgrounds open, but since it was noon they were all full, so I just drove. Lots of traffic, not many animals (I did see an elk, and a deer tried to commit suicide in front of my rig later), and I didn't get to see much. I tried, but there was rarely parking open for my RV, which is a downside. I did get to see the Black Sand Geyser basin, and saw some hot pools and a little geyser that tried hard. I also ran into huge traffic backups before the Fountain Paint Pots, which gave me a chance to eat my (very expensive) sub sandwich from West Yellowstone.
In case you're wondering, I've discovered what your stimulus dollars are doing: road construction in Wyoming. Not only was there construction between Yellowstone and Grand Teton, but there was more construction on US 287. It was all of the "we had to destroy the road to save it" variety: ripped up asphalt, corregated bouncy dirt, lots of lovely gravel, narrow lanes, cliff edges, and in the second case following a pilot car for about 10 miles (including up to the highest pass I may have ever driven over: Togwotee pass, 9658 feet above sea level). I am so tired right now. If you asked me what the Grand Tetons look like, I'm not sure I could tell you. I wanted to stay at Colter Bay, but it was completely full. I'm now at the KOA in Dubois, which I was hoping would be wooded and cool and moist, and is not. But I do have a fairly-level spot, with full utilities including cable (I need some TV). I suppose it's nice here, but I'm really really needing someplace cool and green and shady around now, and I don't think there is any. The campground does back up to the Wind River, and I'm going to go wade in it a bit and hope I feel better before I take a shower and collapse.
And I'm not sure the cats like me anymore. They were in their kennels for a whole lot longer than I intended, and Nell in particular is not particularly forgiving. I hope I can catch her tomorrow to put her in her crate. I'm hoping to have a short day tomorrow, and then stay a couple of days somewhere, but we shall see. At least she's letting me pet her; I guess that's something.
Long day. Very long day. Even without the traffic and construction. Which sure as hell didn't help.
Slept well, although I had to pen Puck in the kennel since he was chewing on things he shouldn't be chewing on, so he spent part of the night alone. Then when I let him out he curled up against my stomach, which made me feel quite guilty.
We left around 8am. Nevada City is a gold-rush town made up of buildings that have been moved here from elsewhere, conserved, and created a little town that's been used in some movies. It's also closed off unless you pay money, so I just looked in from outside. Virginia City (the first territorial capital of Montana) is a bit more open and original. There's a main street with historical plaques on pretty much every building. It was still too early for anything to be open, but I don't need to buy anything anyway and I again walked up and down the street and read everything. It was nice to see the Opera House that a friend of mine worked at for a summer, but I don't know what the hell he did in his free time, because there's NOTHING here.
I then drove through Ennis and up the Madison River. There were flyfishermen everywhere, since the Madison River is apparently one of the big-time fly fishing streams anywhere. They were in boats and in the river itself, trying like mad to catch something. I stayed on the road and wound up in the 1959 earthquake area, where I stopped at the Visitor's Center. After a 7.3 earthquake, the whole side of a mountain avalanched down the slope and halfway up the other side, killing lots of people and blocking the road (and the river) for a good long time. I mostly remember it because of a book we bought back on the 1975 trip: The Night the Mountain Fell. Which they still sell at the gift store. I'm not sure what it is with me and national park disasters: my favorite Glacier book is of course "Night of the Grizzlies", and I loved the Grand Canyon books that told all of the gruesome/horrible/stupid ways people have died there. Hmmm.
I then drove to West Yellowstone. I had decided to see if there were any campgrounds open, but since it was noon they were all full, so I just drove. Lots of traffic, not many animals (I did see an elk, and a deer tried to commit suicide in front of my rig later), and I didn't get to see much. I tried, but there was rarely parking open for my RV, which is a downside. I did get to see the Black Sand Geyser basin, and saw some hot pools and a little geyser that tried hard. I also ran into huge traffic backups before the Fountain Paint Pots, which gave me a chance to eat my (very expensive) sub sandwich from West Yellowstone.
In case you're wondering, I've discovered what your stimulus dollars are doing: road construction in Wyoming. Not only was there construction between Yellowstone and Grand Teton, but there was more construction on US 287. It was all of the "we had to destroy the road to save it" variety: ripped up asphalt, corregated bouncy dirt, lots of lovely gravel, narrow lanes, cliff edges, and in the second case following a pilot car for about 10 miles (including up to the highest pass I may have ever driven over: Togwotee pass, 9658 feet above sea level). I am so tired right now. If you asked me what the Grand Tetons look like, I'm not sure I could tell you. I wanted to stay at Colter Bay, but it was completely full. I'm now at the KOA in Dubois, which I was hoping would be wooded and cool and moist, and is not. But I do have a fairly-level spot, with full utilities including cable (I need some TV). I suppose it's nice here, but I'm really really needing someplace cool and green and shady around now, and I don't think there is any. The campground does back up to the Wind River, and I'm going to go wade in it a bit and hope I feel better before I take a shower and collapse.
And I'm not sure the cats like me anymore. They were in their kennels for a whole lot longer than I intended, and Nell in particular is not particularly forgiving. I hope I can catch her tomorrow to put her in her crate. I'm hoping to have a short day tomorrow, and then stay a couple of days somewhere, but we shall see. At least she's letting me pet her; I guess that's something.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Did you miss me?
July 18
It's been quite a while, and I have been remiss in keeping this up. So I'm going to catch you up, perhaps with a bit less detail than you might have got otherwise (which may be a good thing, after all!).
I left Lethbridge on Thursday the 9th, heading through Cardston (very nice town, with a huge Mormon temple that you can't go near unless you're Mormon) down to Glacier Park. For those familiar with the area, I took the Duck Lake road instead of the usual route (I couldn't go over Sun Road, and didn't want to go over Kiowa road or go down the switchbacks of the Hudson Bay divide), and it did turn out to be a good choice. Going through Customs was easy, although the inspector did want to see my registration and he also came in and took a look to make sure I wasn't smuggling anyone (he also looked in the fridge, presumably to see if I was lying about the food I'd brought back, and he commented on a plate of cookies that Mom had made--I offered him one, but I guess that would be a bribe so he refused). The weather had been drizzly and cloudy, with the odd sunny break, but I still stopped at Marias Pass to check out all the statuary (I had forgotten how unlike most mountain passes Marias is--it just looked like a flat spot in the road). It started to rain in earnest about 10 miles from West Glacier, which didn't stop the residents from driving like idiots. I stopped at the Glacier Highland for lunch (including huckleberry pie, which was delicious), then off to Apgar.
The campground there is huge and wooded with pine trees. I circled a couple of times before picking a nice little level-ish pull-through, which allowed me to use the fridge without much fuss. I let the cats out of their travel kennels and they had a great time looking and listening and smelling. I spent the rest of the day wandering over to Apgar village, doing a bit of shopping and checking out the lake between rain.
The next day was lovely, weather-wise. I had decided to do a horseback ride, and took a shuttle to Lake McDonald (the park has begun running bus-like shuttles along Going-To-The-Sun Road to relieve congestion, and they're great--I'd just take a shuttle wherever I wanted to go, and only had to wait once when a shuttle was full). It turns out I was the only person going on this two-hour ride, but since they don't have minimums I had my own private tour. They put me on a big dark horse called Rock, which I was hoping was for his temperament but seemed to be more like his intelligence. Getting up on him was interesting (getting down even more so), but my guide Brandon was quite fun to talk to. Although I could have done with Rock decided not to walk, deciding to eat instead, or walking WAY on the side of the trail, which was particularly fun when we were descending to cross the creek. But the real fun was going through a tunnel under Sun Road. Brandon's horse, Casper, was a bit antsy and decided to freak out when a car went over the road. Because Casper freaked, Rock did too, decided to buck once and whirl around to get away from the "danger". Well, I hung on, but we were still in the tunnel when he whirled and I scraped hell out of the fingers of my right hand (which were holding the reins--the left hand was holding on for dear life to the saddle!), but I did manage to get him to stop before we hit the creek. After we both calmed down, we turned around and continued. Quite memorable! Although once was enough!
After the ride I wanted to do something more quiet, so after cleaning my injuries at Lake McDonald Lodge I took the boat ride. The lake was smooth as it ever gets, and the ride was lovely except maybe for the small child who was obsessed with Bigfoot and was all over the place loudly looking for him, much to the amusement of his doting parents. Me, not so much. Then back to Apgar and more reading and relaxing (and the occasional nap).
On Saturday, I took the early shuttle up to Logan Pass. It was great to sit in the front passenger seat (there is an advantage to traveling alone!), where I could look straight down at times. Then again, it did freak me out a bit, but still. At the pass I was going to go to the Hidden Lake Overlook, and was trudging up the boardwalk (with two marmots showing off which allowed me to stop and rest a bit while watching them), until I noticed that to get to the top I'd have to go up a very steep snowfield. Well, I'd had enough problems going up the not-so-steep snowfields on the path (they were actually slush fields and were very slippery), and I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and turned around. Not everyone was so smart; apparently a bit later in the day someone destroyed their ankle on this snowfield and had to be carried down and evacuated by rangers. Sometimes I make the right decisions!
I took another shuttle down the east side to St. Mary. I then walked to Highway 89, looking for the Park Cafe. The big problem was, I didn't really remember where it was. Luckily I headed in the right direction and had a quite delicious lunch (boysenberry pie this time!) before waddling back to the visitors center. I had thought about taking another short hike or two, but they all seemed to be straight up or straight down, so I just headed back to Apgar and sat with the kitties. I did go to a ranger talk about geology that night, and it actually managed to get me interested in rocks! I also discovered that there were huckleberry bushes growing in the campground, so I grabbed some dessert.
I did want to do a hike, and had heard that the Avalanche Creek hike was a good one to try, and since I don't really want to hike alone in the bear-infested wilderness, I decided to go on a ranger-led hike that Sunday morning. Turns out the ranger had just accepted a permanent job at Cape Hatteras, so we had a lot to talk about. I did well on the hike as long as we stopped a lot to talk about whatever, but flagged quite a bit at the end. It didn't help that a bear had been spotted that morning up at Avalanche Lake, being a bit too curious about hikers. So I spent a lot of time hollering (which the ranger admired, since she couldn't holler that loud herself) at intervals, to let the bear know we were coming--well, us and the hordes of other people who were doing this "easy" hike (bah--if this was an easy hike I'd hate to see a hard one!). Avalanche lake was indeed lovely, with streams of water falling down near-sheer cliffs to join the lake, but I decided to hike back down with the ranger, who said she was planning on going easy since she had bad knees herself (as do I). A guy who was working the summer driving jammers joined us, and we gimped down the mountain only to find that there was a bear down there too, who had apparently sauntered onto the trail and used the trail bridge to cross Avalanche Creek before disappearing into the woods. So I hollered some more, and was very glad to reach the road intact. I caught a shuttle to Lake McDonald and had a bison burger to celebrate my achievement/survival (bison is flavored much differently than beef, but it was still good). Then it was (you guessed it) back to Apgar to stick my poor feet into the lake and read. While I didn't see a bear, I did see a moose along the road (he'd been there for a couple of days, and the ranger who was doing the hike had been late because she had to deal with the resulting "moose jam" of people stopped on the road to see the moose. And I also saw a bus of teenaged guys from Mississippi who were staying at the Apgar Lodge arrive, dump their things in their rooms, and then go swimming en masse. I don't believe they had ever encountered water quite this cold, and the yelling was very impressive.
The next morning, it was raining again as I headed out. Once I got past Columbia Falls, it rained so hard that I actually had to stop right outside of Bigfork because I couldn't see the road anymore. Luckily there was a gas station with a huge lot, so I just parked a bit (as did the RV travelling behind me) until I could see again. Not only heavy rain, but also thunder and lightning! The wind was too bad, although there were whitecaps on Flathead Lake, which seemed a bit odd.
The rain tapered off and I actually saw a bit of the Mission Mountains, which was nice. There was some serious construction all the way from Arlee to Evaro Hill, and I was glad I wasn't too tired and had took my time (they seem to be widening the road as well as installing wildlife tunnels underneath), but I got to Missoula OK.
I stayed at the Missoula KOA, which used to be way out on the edge of nowhere but now is practically in the middle of town--I do believe that they've built up all the valley floor, which is a bit astonishing. I got a nice spot with some shade, and took advantage of the laundry as well as the no-kids-allowed hot tubs a bit. My parents met me that night and we did the usual Missoula stuff: eat at the Mo Club and the Shack and the Bagel Place, hang out at the University (I got to talk for a while to my advisor who I hadn't seen in a long time), wander downtown, drive around, etc. No bars hit other than the Mo Club, but you can't have everything. I also got to go to an Out to Lunch at Caras Park, which was swarming with people as there was an International Choral Festival in town this week, so lots of singing (ah, culture!). I also sterilized my RV water tanks (which takes a lot longer than one would think), so now I'm not too afraid about using the water, since I know where it's been and how old it is.
And yes, the inevitable happened: Puck fell off the over-cab bunk. He was trying to wake me up the last morning in Missoula, using the "I love you so much!" method, which involves rubbing against me with great vigor. Since rubbing his side on my face didn't work (other than me sputtering and turning over), he decided to rub against my legs, which unfortunately were close to the edge. I felt him fling himself at my legs, heard a scramble and then a thud. By the time I pivoted to look over the edge (I can't sit up in the bunk), he was sitting up and shaking his head. Before I could worry too much, he jumped back on the dinette and then onto the bunk, to see if I was getting up. He seems OK, though he's limping a bit (I can imagine he'd be a bit stiff after that) and he's MUCH more careful about the edge!
Yesterday I headed out, but not too far; it was supposed to be around 100 in Missoula today, so I wanted to get somewhere cooler, and figured going up was the key. I'm currently in a Forest Service campground in the Lolo National Forest. It's been about 92 today, which is better than 100, but still very hot. No hookups, so I don't have air conditioning or electricity and such, but it was so dark (millions of stars!) and so quiet last night, I slept like a log. I did wake up twice because my neighbors were clapping, presumably to warn the bears that they were on their way to the outhouses (no running water either) and to go away. Nobody got eaten, so that's good. I was going to do a nature hike, but there are no pamphlets left to tell me what I'm looking at, so I mostly just read and put my feet in the creek and read some more and took the occasional nap.
Wow, lots of motorcycles; they've been going up and down the road like crazy and a bunch just pulled in. Guess the campground will be fuller tonight! I'm rather bummed I didn't get a streamside spot (there are only three that are of any use to RV's), because it's cooler there as well as having nice sound effects, but oh well; I've a nice level spot on the hill above. I just wish it'd cool off a bit.
July 19
Well, it did cool down eventually, although it was still hot when I tried to go to sleep at 10pm. I did manage to fall asleep, and slept quite well once I did. Puck woke me up at about 5am, so I put him in the kennel and went back to bed. I was eventually woken up by the motorcycles leaving at 6:45am--five Harleys make quite a lot of noise! I left about an hour later and went up to Lolo Pass. There's quite the visitor center there now, along with a winter warming hut for the skiers. Unfortunately, it didn't open until 9am Pacific Time, and I didn't want to wait around, so I left and headed back to the Bitterroot Valley, then south. While I didn't stop at Lolo Hot Springs (when it's 90, a hot spring rather loses its appeal), it sure does look huge! A hotel, a casino, a restaurant, a bar, all along with the hot springs buildings.
Much of Highway 93 through the Bitterroot is now four-lane, and I got to take my time. Visibility wasn't what it could be; I wasn't sure whether the haze was smoke from various fires or just general humidity and pollution (Missoula was hazy too). Hamilton has grown quite a bit as well from what I remember it. Headed up to Lost Trail Pass was quite steep, though I did find a lovely campground right on the Bitterroot River in the mountains that I'll stay at next time.
Again, the road was four-lane for the steepest part, so I just plugged along (I did go faster than a truck with a homemade trailer though--we're not the slowest on the road!). After crossing into Idaho for a bit it was back to Montana and the Big Hole Valley. I'm glad, on the way down, that I had brushed up on downshifting in an automatic vehicle; it turns out that the Glacier vans were also built on Sprinter chassis, and I watched the drivers downshift and upshift all along Sun Road.
The Big Hole Battlefield is set in one of the few oases in a very, very dry area. I went to the Vistor's Center for a few minutes, and then walked to the battlefield itself. While I didn't spend a lot of time (I was a bit worried about the cats getting too hot in the RV in the sun) I did spot the remnants of some trenches that had been dug back in 1877 by soldiers. The battle was because a band of Nez Perce Indians refused to go to the reservation set aside for them in Idaho and were headed peacefully to Canada to throw themselves on the mercy of the Queen. Well, the US wasn't happy about that, both because of the disobeying orders and because the authorities were worried about the natives rampaging (which they weren't doing--most were non-warriors, lots of women and children and the elderly--all they wanted was to be left alone, but after the Little Big Horn battle the year before, that wasn't going to happen). The soldiers attacked first, then the Indians fought back (maybe to allow the surviving noncombatants to escape). You know a place gets little rain if trenches dug in a woods more than 130 years ago are still visible!
I left the battlefield and headed onward. The town of Wisdom is perhaps best known as one of the coldest places in the lower 48 in winter, and I can see why--a flat plain, dry as a bone, at about 6000 feet elevation with mountains surrounding it. Yeah, cold. Not today though; today it was hot. I headed south toward Dillon, past Jackson Hot Springs (basically a wide spot in the road with a hotel/bar/hot spring) and past Bannock (near which the RV set a new speed record--72 mph, down hill but still) and eventually to Dillon, where I filled up with diesel.
North of Dillon I passed Beaverhead Rock, which was a landmark that Sacajawea recognized as indicating that her homeland was to the west. It really does look a bit like a swimming beaver, from some angles using a bit of imagination. I went through Twin Bridges, and now I'm in at a KOA near Virginia City. Very nice people run it, but otherwise I'm not impressed--my site isn't level, it only has 15amp electricity (which means I can run the A/C or the refrigerator or the microwave, but only one at a time--I have the fridge running on propane), no pool (sigh), and very few trees. My outside thermometer says it's 97 in the shade, and I believe it.
Unfortunately, most of my rig is in the sun, and even though I have the A/C on high it's still 87 degrees in here. I don't think I'm going to be able to live in this RV in Panama City during hot weather; the A/C sounds like a wind turbine and is shaking the rig with its running, but it's not very efficient. Hopefully I can find a nice efficiency to rent until May or something. I'll worry about that later; I have both a month reservation at a campground as well as two weeks reserved at the state park in Panama City, and I'll decide which to cancel soon. Meanwhile, I really hope it cools down--I hate this weather! Come on, rain!
And while it says that it has WiFi here, I've connected to the network once, it vanished almost immediately. I went to the office and asked them to poke it, it came up, I tried to post this, it crashed again. Ye gods. Let's hope the third time's the charm. And I hear thunder!
It's been quite a while, and I have been remiss in keeping this up. So I'm going to catch you up, perhaps with a bit less detail than you might have got otherwise (which may be a good thing, after all!).
I left Lethbridge on Thursday the 9th, heading through Cardston (very nice town, with a huge Mormon temple that you can't go near unless you're Mormon) down to Glacier Park. For those familiar with the area, I took the Duck Lake road instead of the usual route (I couldn't go over Sun Road, and didn't want to go over Kiowa road or go down the switchbacks of the Hudson Bay divide), and it did turn out to be a good choice. Going through Customs was easy, although the inspector did want to see my registration and he also came in and took a look to make sure I wasn't smuggling anyone (he also looked in the fridge, presumably to see if I was lying about the food I'd brought back, and he commented on a plate of cookies that Mom had made--I offered him one, but I guess that would be a bribe so he refused). The weather had been drizzly and cloudy, with the odd sunny break, but I still stopped at Marias Pass to check out all the statuary (I had forgotten how unlike most mountain passes Marias is--it just looked like a flat spot in the road). It started to rain in earnest about 10 miles from West Glacier, which didn't stop the residents from driving like idiots. I stopped at the Glacier Highland for lunch (including huckleberry pie, which was delicious), then off to Apgar.
The campground there is huge and wooded with pine trees. I circled a couple of times before picking a nice little level-ish pull-through, which allowed me to use the fridge without much fuss. I let the cats out of their travel kennels and they had a great time looking and listening and smelling. I spent the rest of the day wandering over to Apgar village, doing a bit of shopping and checking out the lake between rain.
The next day was lovely, weather-wise. I had decided to do a horseback ride, and took a shuttle to Lake McDonald (the park has begun running bus-like shuttles along Going-To-The-Sun Road to relieve congestion, and they're great--I'd just take a shuttle wherever I wanted to go, and only had to wait once when a shuttle was full). It turns out I was the only person going on this two-hour ride, but since they don't have minimums I had my own private tour. They put me on a big dark horse called Rock, which I was hoping was for his temperament but seemed to be more like his intelligence. Getting up on him was interesting (getting down even more so), but my guide Brandon was quite fun to talk to. Although I could have done with Rock decided not to walk, deciding to eat instead, or walking WAY on the side of the trail, which was particularly fun when we were descending to cross the creek. But the real fun was going through a tunnel under Sun Road. Brandon's horse, Casper, was a bit antsy and decided to freak out when a car went over the road. Because Casper freaked, Rock did too, decided to buck once and whirl around to get away from the "danger". Well, I hung on, but we were still in the tunnel when he whirled and I scraped hell out of the fingers of my right hand (which were holding the reins--the left hand was holding on for dear life to the saddle!), but I did manage to get him to stop before we hit the creek. After we both calmed down, we turned around and continued. Quite memorable! Although once was enough!
After the ride I wanted to do something more quiet, so after cleaning my injuries at Lake McDonald Lodge I took the boat ride. The lake was smooth as it ever gets, and the ride was lovely except maybe for the small child who was obsessed with Bigfoot and was all over the place loudly looking for him, much to the amusement of his doting parents. Me, not so much. Then back to Apgar and more reading and relaxing (and the occasional nap).
On Saturday, I took the early shuttle up to Logan Pass. It was great to sit in the front passenger seat (there is an advantage to traveling alone!), where I could look straight down at times. Then again, it did freak me out a bit, but still. At the pass I was going to go to the Hidden Lake Overlook, and was trudging up the boardwalk (with two marmots showing off which allowed me to stop and rest a bit while watching them), until I noticed that to get to the top I'd have to go up a very steep snowfield. Well, I'd had enough problems going up the not-so-steep snowfields on the path (they were actually slush fields and were very slippery), and I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and turned around. Not everyone was so smart; apparently a bit later in the day someone destroyed their ankle on this snowfield and had to be carried down and evacuated by rangers. Sometimes I make the right decisions!
I took another shuttle down the east side to St. Mary. I then walked to Highway 89, looking for the Park Cafe. The big problem was, I didn't really remember where it was. Luckily I headed in the right direction and had a quite delicious lunch (boysenberry pie this time!) before waddling back to the visitors center. I had thought about taking another short hike or two, but they all seemed to be straight up or straight down, so I just headed back to Apgar and sat with the kitties. I did go to a ranger talk about geology that night, and it actually managed to get me interested in rocks! I also discovered that there were huckleberry bushes growing in the campground, so I grabbed some dessert.
I did want to do a hike, and had heard that the Avalanche Creek hike was a good one to try, and since I don't really want to hike alone in the bear-infested wilderness, I decided to go on a ranger-led hike that Sunday morning. Turns out the ranger had just accepted a permanent job at Cape Hatteras, so we had a lot to talk about. I did well on the hike as long as we stopped a lot to talk about whatever, but flagged quite a bit at the end. It didn't help that a bear had been spotted that morning up at Avalanche Lake, being a bit too curious about hikers. So I spent a lot of time hollering (which the ranger admired, since she couldn't holler that loud herself) at intervals, to let the bear know we were coming--well, us and the hordes of other people who were doing this "easy" hike (bah--if this was an easy hike I'd hate to see a hard one!). Avalanche lake was indeed lovely, with streams of water falling down near-sheer cliffs to join the lake, but I decided to hike back down with the ranger, who said she was planning on going easy since she had bad knees herself (as do I). A guy who was working the summer driving jammers joined us, and we gimped down the mountain only to find that there was a bear down there too, who had apparently sauntered onto the trail and used the trail bridge to cross Avalanche Creek before disappearing into the woods. So I hollered some more, and was very glad to reach the road intact. I caught a shuttle to Lake McDonald and had a bison burger to celebrate my achievement/survival (bison is flavored much differently than beef, but it was still good). Then it was (you guessed it) back to Apgar to stick my poor feet into the lake and read. While I didn't see a bear, I did see a moose along the road (he'd been there for a couple of days, and the ranger who was doing the hike had been late because she had to deal with the resulting "moose jam" of people stopped on the road to see the moose. And I also saw a bus of teenaged guys from Mississippi who were staying at the Apgar Lodge arrive, dump their things in their rooms, and then go swimming en masse. I don't believe they had ever encountered water quite this cold, and the yelling was very impressive.
The next morning, it was raining again as I headed out. Once I got past Columbia Falls, it rained so hard that I actually had to stop right outside of Bigfork because I couldn't see the road anymore. Luckily there was a gas station with a huge lot, so I just parked a bit (as did the RV travelling behind me) until I could see again. Not only heavy rain, but also thunder and lightning! The wind was too bad, although there were whitecaps on Flathead Lake, which seemed a bit odd.
The rain tapered off and I actually saw a bit of the Mission Mountains, which was nice. There was some serious construction all the way from Arlee to Evaro Hill, and I was glad I wasn't too tired and had took my time (they seem to be widening the road as well as installing wildlife tunnels underneath), but I got to Missoula OK.
I stayed at the Missoula KOA, which used to be way out on the edge of nowhere but now is practically in the middle of town--I do believe that they've built up all the valley floor, which is a bit astonishing. I got a nice spot with some shade, and took advantage of the laundry as well as the no-kids-allowed hot tubs a bit. My parents met me that night and we did the usual Missoula stuff: eat at the Mo Club and the Shack and the Bagel Place, hang out at the University (I got to talk for a while to my advisor who I hadn't seen in a long time), wander downtown, drive around, etc. No bars hit other than the Mo Club, but you can't have everything. I also got to go to an Out to Lunch at Caras Park, which was swarming with people as there was an International Choral Festival in town this week, so lots of singing (ah, culture!). I also sterilized my RV water tanks (which takes a lot longer than one would think), so now I'm not too afraid about using the water, since I know where it's been and how old it is.
And yes, the inevitable happened: Puck fell off the over-cab bunk. He was trying to wake me up the last morning in Missoula, using the "I love you so much!" method, which involves rubbing against me with great vigor. Since rubbing his side on my face didn't work (other than me sputtering and turning over), he decided to rub against my legs, which unfortunately were close to the edge. I felt him fling himself at my legs, heard a scramble and then a thud. By the time I pivoted to look over the edge (I can't sit up in the bunk), he was sitting up and shaking his head. Before I could worry too much, he jumped back on the dinette and then onto the bunk, to see if I was getting up. He seems OK, though he's limping a bit (I can imagine he'd be a bit stiff after that) and he's MUCH more careful about the edge!
Yesterday I headed out, but not too far; it was supposed to be around 100 in Missoula today, so I wanted to get somewhere cooler, and figured going up was the key. I'm currently in a Forest Service campground in the Lolo National Forest. It's been about 92 today, which is better than 100, but still very hot. No hookups, so I don't have air conditioning or electricity and such, but it was so dark (millions of stars!) and so quiet last night, I slept like a log. I did wake up twice because my neighbors were clapping, presumably to warn the bears that they were on their way to the outhouses (no running water either) and to go away. Nobody got eaten, so that's good. I was going to do a nature hike, but there are no pamphlets left to tell me what I'm looking at, so I mostly just read and put my feet in the creek and read some more and took the occasional nap.
Wow, lots of motorcycles; they've been going up and down the road like crazy and a bunch just pulled in. Guess the campground will be fuller tonight! I'm rather bummed I didn't get a streamside spot (there are only three that are of any use to RV's), because it's cooler there as well as having nice sound effects, but oh well; I've a nice level spot on the hill above. I just wish it'd cool off a bit.
July 19
Well, it did cool down eventually, although it was still hot when I tried to go to sleep at 10pm. I did manage to fall asleep, and slept quite well once I did. Puck woke me up at about 5am, so I put him in the kennel and went back to bed. I was eventually woken up by the motorcycles leaving at 6:45am--five Harleys make quite a lot of noise! I left about an hour later and went up to Lolo Pass. There's quite the visitor center there now, along with a winter warming hut for the skiers. Unfortunately, it didn't open until 9am Pacific Time, and I didn't want to wait around, so I left and headed back to the Bitterroot Valley, then south. While I didn't stop at Lolo Hot Springs (when it's 90, a hot spring rather loses its appeal), it sure does look huge! A hotel, a casino, a restaurant, a bar, all along with the hot springs buildings.
Much of Highway 93 through the Bitterroot is now four-lane, and I got to take my time. Visibility wasn't what it could be; I wasn't sure whether the haze was smoke from various fires or just general humidity and pollution (Missoula was hazy too). Hamilton has grown quite a bit as well from what I remember it. Headed up to Lost Trail Pass was quite steep, though I did find a lovely campground right on the Bitterroot River in the mountains that I'll stay at next time.
Again, the road was four-lane for the steepest part, so I just plugged along (I did go faster than a truck with a homemade trailer though--we're not the slowest on the road!). After crossing into Idaho for a bit it was back to Montana and the Big Hole Valley. I'm glad, on the way down, that I had brushed up on downshifting in an automatic vehicle; it turns out that the Glacier vans were also built on Sprinter chassis, and I watched the drivers downshift and upshift all along Sun Road.
The Big Hole Battlefield is set in one of the few oases in a very, very dry area. I went to the Vistor's Center for a few minutes, and then walked to the battlefield itself. While I didn't spend a lot of time (I was a bit worried about the cats getting too hot in the RV in the sun) I did spot the remnants of some trenches that had been dug back in 1877 by soldiers. The battle was because a band of Nez Perce Indians refused to go to the reservation set aside for them in Idaho and were headed peacefully to Canada to throw themselves on the mercy of the Queen. Well, the US wasn't happy about that, both because of the disobeying orders and because the authorities were worried about the natives rampaging (which they weren't doing--most were non-warriors, lots of women and children and the elderly--all they wanted was to be left alone, but after the Little Big Horn battle the year before, that wasn't going to happen). The soldiers attacked first, then the Indians fought back (maybe to allow the surviving noncombatants to escape). You know a place gets little rain if trenches dug in a woods more than 130 years ago are still visible!
I left the battlefield and headed onward. The town of Wisdom is perhaps best known as one of the coldest places in the lower 48 in winter, and I can see why--a flat plain, dry as a bone, at about 6000 feet elevation with mountains surrounding it. Yeah, cold. Not today though; today it was hot. I headed south toward Dillon, past Jackson Hot Springs (basically a wide spot in the road with a hotel/bar/hot spring) and past Bannock (near which the RV set a new speed record--72 mph, down hill but still) and eventually to Dillon, where I filled up with diesel.
North of Dillon I passed Beaverhead Rock, which was a landmark that Sacajawea recognized as indicating that her homeland was to the west. It really does look a bit like a swimming beaver, from some angles using a bit of imagination. I went through Twin Bridges, and now I'm in at a KOA near Virginia City. Very nice people run it, but otherwise I'm not impressed--my site isn't level, it only has 15amp electricity (which means I can run the A/C or the refrigerator or the microwave, but only one at a time--I have the fridge running on propane), no pool (sigh), and very few trees. My outside thermometer says it's 97 in the shade, and I believe it.
Unfortunately, most of my rig is in the sun, and even though I have the A/C on high it's still 87 degrees in here. I don't think I'm going to be able to live in this RV in Panama City during hot weather; the A/C sounds like a wind turbine and is shaking the rig with its running, but it's not very efficient. Hopefully I can find a nice efficiency to rent until May or something. I'll worry about that later; I have both a month reservation at a campground as well as two weeks reserved at the state park in Panama City, and I'll decide which to cancel soon. Meanwhile, I really hope it cools down--I hate this weather! Come on, rain!
And while it says that it has WiFi here, I've connected to the network once, it vanished almost immediately. I went to the office and asked them to poke it, it came up, I tried to post this, it crashed again. Ye gods. Let's hope the third time's the charm. And I hear thunder!
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Finally, a new post!
I figured I'd best sign on and say hi, so you know what's up. I'm still at my parents' house, mostly relaxing although trying to get things done. I've loaded up all my pictures on Flickr, since there are probably too many to put on here; to see them go to:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/delphee/3648786854/in/set-72157620057572035/
The cats and Pennie are doing surprisingly well. There was some misunderstandings and hissing and such at first, but other than the odd bad moment (Puck tried to sniff a biscuit that Pennie had decided not to eat, and then Pennie decided she wanted the biscuit after all and barked at Puck who jumped and ran) things are going wonderfully. Even Nell is beginning to trust Pennie, at least a bit, and she's also letting my parents pet her.
I got the rig checked out (they didn't find anything) as well as getting the oil changed, which apparently was a huge ordeal. It is a bit cleaner, although I'm going to take the rig into a Sprinter dealer for its 40,000 mile checkup in about 3500 miles, where they'll change it again. I've also arranged all the drawers and everything so it's efficient and less likely to come falling out of cabinets and such. My mother has her heart set on making slipcovers for the couch and dinette chairs, and she's begun them now. Between that, my rather wanting to go to the Calgary Stampede, and my being in no hurry to get back to Florida (it's been 98 with a heat index around 110 lately--ye gods), I may be here a bit more. My parents seem glad to have me.
I did go to Vulcan for the Spock Days. I've been meaning to go; it's only a bit over an hour from here, and the weather was fine, if hot. I borrowed one of my parents' cars (I feel as if I'm reverting to high school at times!) and headed out. It was easy to spot Vulcan: it was the only town with a replica of the Starship Enterprise next to the highway!
The town itself is larger than many of the tiny towns around here, and it's still alive mostly due to some residents decided to ally Vulcan with Star Trek fans in the mid-1980's. Now people come from all over the world to here for the celebrations, as well as to just be here. I wandered a bit, bought a few souvenirs, and stayed for the parade, which was a fascinating (sorry!) combination of small-town parade and science-fiction convention, both familiar from my teen years. A lot of the usual stuff was gussied up a bit for the Vulcan connection: the Shriners had some very interesting little bitty cars, for instance, and I don't think there ever was any sort of hay ride on Vulcan. Lots of Klingons, since it was the 20th anniversary of the founding of one of the Klingon societies. And the Klingons were collecting for the March of Dimes--yes, I gave them money, since you don't want to cross a Klingon.
I'll let you know if anything exciting happens. I may go to Fairmont Hot springs next week; I know I'm going to Glacier when I head out, and then meander down the Rockies to Colorado, cut across Kansas as quickly as possible (and hopefully when there aren't tornadoes going on), maybe go to Branson, and then back to Florida. But these things, as always, are subject to change.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/delphee/3648786854/in/set-72157620057572035/
The cats and Pennie are doing surprisingly well. There was some misunderstandings and hissing and such at first, but other than the odd bad moment (Puck tried to sniff a biscuit that Pennie had decided not to eat, and then Pennie decided she wanted the biscuit after all and barked at Puck who jumped and ran) things are going wonderfully. Even Nell is beginning to trust Pennie, at least a bit, and she's also letting my parents pet her.
I got the rig checked out (they didn't find anything) as well as getting the oil changed, which apparently was a huge ordeal. It is a bit cleaner, although I'm going to take the rig into a Sprinter dealer for its 40,000 mile checkup in about 3500 miles, where they'll change it again. I've also arranged all the drawers and everything so it's efficient and less likely to come falling out of cabinets and such. My mother has her heart set on making slipcovers for the couch and dinette chairs, and she's begun them now. Between that, my rather wanting to go to the Calgary Stampede, and my being in no hurry to get back to Florida (it's been 98 with a heat index around 110 lately--ye gods), I may be here a bit more. My parents seem glad to have me.
I did go to Vulcan for the Spock Days. I've been meaning to go; it's only a bit over an hour from here, and the weather was fine, if hot. I borrowed one of my parents' cars (I feel as if I'm reverting to high school at times!) and headed out. It was easy to spot Vulcan: it was the only town with a replica of the Starship Enterprise next to the highway!
The town itself is larger than many of the tiny towns around here, and it's still alive mostly due to some residents decided to ally Vulcan with Star Trek fans in the mid-1980's. Now people come from all over the world to here for the celebrations, as well as to just be here. I wandered a bit, bought a few souvenirs, and stayed for the parade, which was a fascinating (sorry!) combination of small-town parade and science-fiction convention, both familiar from my teen years. A lot of the usual stuff was gussied up a bit for the Vulcan connection: the Shriners had some very interesting little bitty cars, for instance, and I don't think there ever was any sort of hay ride on Vulcan. Lots of Klingons, since it was the 20th anniversary of the founding of one of the Klingon societies. And the Klingons were collecting for the March of Dimes--yes, I gave them money, since you don't want to cross a Klingon.
I'll let you know if anything exciting happens. I may go to Fairmont Hot springs next week; I know I'm going to Glacier when I head out, and then meander down the Rockies to Colorado, cut across Kansas as quickly as possible (and hopefully when there aren't tornadoes going on), maybe go to Branson, and then back to Florida. But these things, as always, are subject to change.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I made it to Alberta!
After a relatively sleepless night (actually, it was my usual wake-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night-stressing-over-things-that-I-can't-do-anything-about-but-can't-stop-thinking-about night I tend to have while working, but it's the first I've had since I left), I woke up early--REAL early here in the Mountain time zone; the sun comes up at about 5:15am in Malta these days. I fed the cats, listened to a bit of NPR, got everything loaded and dumped the waste tanks (I'm very proud of myself for that, and it went very well with pretty much no mess) then headed out.
Nell was in her carrier and seemed happy (no meowing anyway), but I couldn't get Puck, so I let him ride loose. He roamed about a bit, winding up at various times on my lap, on the dashboard, and trying desperately to get to my feet before I finally got tired and stopped to transfer him back to the kennel (yay for roadside monuments in Montana!). The weather was nice, not too hot and not too windy (yet for both), which is another reason I left so early.
Route 2 across Montana is in really good shape. It's a 2-lane road, but that wasn't a problem because other drivers had absolutely no problem passing me, since there was very little traffic. I did get to see a whole bunch more pronghorns (thankfully running AWAY from the road) plus cattle and such. I stopped in Fort Belknap Agency for an egg-salad sandwich and a Pepsi (which thankfully didn't spill), and then drove through various towns (and Havre, which might be a tiny city) before stopping in Chester to use the restroom and check the oil, although I had to look in the handbook to find out how to open the hood--don't cars normally have these labelled? It's a tiny little handle about where you'd expect it, but I had to really haul on it to pop the hood. The oil is fine, if filthy--I'm going to get it changed here in Lethbridge, as well as get the suspension looked at.
I stopped in Shelby to get diesel before the border. It seems bigger than I remember, but I don't think I've approached it from the west for quite a while. After fueling up and scraping as many dead bugs as possible off the windshield (I've been quite the Grim Reaper for the insect world lately) I headed north.
The wind, which hadn't been too bad, steadily got worse. Part head wind, part broadside, it made driving on the Interstate not particularly fun. The border was no problem, except for the 15-minute or so wait to get to an agent; I've almost never had more than a cursory question/answer from border guards, partly I think because I look innocent and trustworthy. OK, stop laughing. At any rate, it was after the border that the wind got really, really bad. It made the prior windy days seem like nothing. I was swerving all over the place, trying to keep it on the road, with the steering wheel turned what seemed to be an impossible amount to the left considering the rig was driving straight! But I did make it, and made it to Lethbridge to park in front of my parents' house with virtually no trouble.
I unloaded the cats (they are now in my parents' spare bedroom--Nell is still spending much time hiding under the bed (although she did eat voraciously, as usual) and Puck doesn't know why he can't go out of the bedroom--we're not letting them loose until we know that my parents' dog Pennie won't do anything untoward to them), then the things that would be harmed by hot temperatures, plus some clothes. I hope to spend some time poking around the rig, practicing things like lighting the pilot lights and such, as well as get the oil changed and the suspension checked.
I can't say when I'll be updating this; I probably won't be posting again until I head out, and I'm not sure when that will be. Stay tuned!
Nell was in her carrier and seemed happy (no meowing anyway), but I couldn't get Puck, so I let him ride loose. He roamed about a bit, winding up at various times on my lap, on the dashboard, and trying desperately to get to my feet before I finally got tired and stopped to transfer him back to the kennel (yay for roadside monuments in Montana!). The weather was nice, not too hot and not too windy (yet for both), which is another reason I left so early.
Route 2 across Montana is in really good shape. It's a 2-lane road, but that wasn't a problem because other drivers had absolutely no problem passing me, since there was very little traffic. I did get to see a whole bunch more pronghorns (thankfully running AWAY from the road) plus cattle and such. I stopped in Fort Belknap Agency for an egg-salad sandwich and a Pepsi (which thankfully didn't spill), and then drove through various towns (and Havre, which might be a tiny city) before stopping in Chester to use the restroom and check the oil, although I had to look in the handbook to find out how to open the hood--don't cars normally have these labelled? It's a tiny little handle about where you'd expect it, but I had to really haul on it to pop the hood. The oil is fine, if filthy--I'm going to get it changed here in Lethbridge, as well as get the suspension looked at.
I stopped in Shelby to get diesel before the border. It seems bigger than I remember, but I don't think I've approached it from the west for quite a while. After fueling up and scraping as many dead bugs as possible off the windshield (I've been quite the Grim Reaper for the insect world lately) I headed north.
The wind, which hadn't been too bad, steadily got worse. Part head wind, part broadside, it made driving on the Interstate not particularly fun. The border was no problem, except for the 15-minute or so wait to get to an agent; I've almost never had more than a cursory question/answer from border guards, partly I think because I look innocent and trustworthy. OK, stop laughing. At any rate, it was after the border that the wind got really, really bad. It made the prior windy days seem like nothing. I was swerving all over the place, trying to keep it on the road, with the steering wheel turned what seemed to be an impossible amount to the left considering the rig was driving straight! But I did make it, and made it to Lethbridge to park in front of my parents' house with virtually no trouble.
I unloaded the cats (they are now in my parents' spare bedroom--Nell is still spending much time hiding under the bed (although she did eat voraciously, as usual) and Puck doesn't know why he can't go out of the bedroom--we're not letting them loose until we know that my parents' dog Pennie won't do anything untoward to them), then the things that would be harmed by hot temperatures, plus some clothes. I hope to spend some time poking around the rig, practicing things like lighting the pilot lights and such, as well as get the oil changed and the suspension checked.
I can't say when I'll be updating this; I probably won't be posting again until I head out, and I'm not sure when that will be. Stay tuned!
Friday, May 29, 2009
The mood is not good today
May 29--Malta, MT
Today has not been the best day. Nothing dramatically has gone wrong, I don't think, but it seems like nothing really has gone right either.
I was on the road by 8am. I had moved the cat kennel closer to my seat, and found that Nell was meowing and pacing like a lion in the zoo. I stopped to get something to eat and a Pepsi after a few miles, and talked to her a bit. But a bit later, I look back since I hear much struggling and see Nell with her head partly out of the kennel! With visions of her strangling herself, I quickly head over to the side of the road--too quickly, as I wind up spilling my Pepsi all over the floor. I stop, notice that Nell has her head back in the kennel, and try in vain to mop up as much of the Pepsi as I can. Let's just say that the car has been christened. And that I didn't get much value from my large Pepsi this morning. I grab Nell (much less gently than I could have done--I was angry, and I've apologized and have tried to make it up to her--lots of cuddles and treats, and luckily she is forgiving) and stick her in the little carrier, and cover it with my jacket. Puck stays in the kennel, since he is quietly napping (as he usually does). I mop up a little more and then keep driving.
I stop in Stanley (the next big town) to check on the cats (Nell is actually quiet and seems happier--I think the RV moving scares her, but she's just fine when it stops) and drive all over hell's half acre to find a mailbox (I have something I've been meaning to mail since I left). Between the construction and the bumpy roads, the RV is bouncing all over the place, cabinets open and scatter their stuff, and I have to stop to restow. And eventually back on the road.
Where the wind is blowing something fierce. Mostly a head wind, although also to one side or another--a couple of times the RV swerves so violently I think I've blown a tire, but it's just the wind. I keep looking for some place to get food on my side of the road, but I can't find anything.
I get to Glasgow and get gas (and get diesel all over my hands--I've washed them twice and they still smell of gasoline). The roads are uneven and the rig is bouncing all over the place yet again and banging and clanking and I'm worried that I've destroyed the suspension and/or the wheels are going to fall off (so I'm irrational, sue me), and I finally pull into a McDonalds (on the wrong side of the road, of course), get a meal, and manage to get back on the road.
I was going to stop at Sleeping Buffalo Hot springs, and I did pull in, but it really looks skeevy--run down, with no other campers there, and the only cars were at the bar. Besides, it's hot, so I keep going. There's supposed to be a nice place in Malta.
I get to Malta, and manage to pull into and check into (yep) the wrong RV place. This place is small and nearly empty, and the site is tilted something fierce, but the electricity is good (for air conditioning, as it's 85 outside), I can get three TV channels (including some from Great Falls and Helena!) and the WiFi is a thing of strength and beauty. So I'm here for the night, and I hope to make it to Lethbridge tomorrow before I have a complete nervous breakdown. I plan to get the rig checked out there, to make sure all is well and hopefully reduce my stress a bit. I also find that I should not drive mutiple days without staying someplace for a couple of nights; once I get into the mountains, I suspect that will be easier. But I do want to see my parents and sister and everybody, so it's one last push tomorrow. Wish me luck! And the cats too, for having to deal with me!
Today has not been the best day. Nothing dramatically has gone wrong, I don't think, but it seems like nothing really has gone right either.
I was on the road by 8am. I had moved the cat kennel closer to my seat, and found that Nell was meowing and pacing like a lion in the zoo. I stopped to get something to eat and a Pepsi after a few miles, and talked to her a bit. But a bit later, I look back since I hear much struggling and see Nell with her head partly out of the kennel! With visions of her strangling herself, I quickly head over to the side of the road--too quickly, as I wind up spilling my Pepsi all over the floor. I stop, notice that Nell has her head back in the kennel, and try in vain to mop up as much of the Pepsi as I can. Let's just say that the car has been christened. And that I didn't get much value from my large Pepsi this morning. I grab Nell (much less gently than I could have done--I was angry, and I've apologized and have tried to make it up to her--lots of cuddles and treats, and luckily she is forgiving) and stick her in the little carrier, and cover it with my jacket. Puck stays in the kennel, since he is quietly napping (as he usually does). I mop up a little more and then keep driving.
I stop in Stanley (the next big town) to check on the cats (Nell is actually quiet and seems happier--I think the RV moving scares her, but she's just fine when it stops) and drive all over hell's half acre to find a mailbox (I have something I've been meaning to mail since I left). Between the construction and the bumpy roads, the RV is bouncing all over the place, cabinets open and scatter their stuff, and I have to stop to restow. And eventually back on the road.
Where the wind is blowing something fierce. Mostly a head wind, although also to one side or another--a couple of times the RV swerves so violently I think I've blown a tire, but it's just the wind. I keep looking for some place to get food on my side of the road, but I can't find anything.
I get to Glasgow and get gas (and get diesel all over my hands--I've washed them twice and they still smell of gasoline). The roads are uneven and the rig is bouncing all over the place yet again and banging and clanking and I'm worried that I've destroyed the suspension and/or the wheels are going to fall off (so I'm irrational, sue me), and I finally pull into a McDonalds (on the wrong side of the road, of course), get a meal, and manage to get back on the road.
I was going to stop at Sleeping Buffalo Hot springs, and I did pull in, but it really looks skeevy--run down, with no other campers there, and the only cars were at the bar. Besides, it's hot, so I keep going. There's supposed to be a nice place in Malta.
I get to Malta, and manage to pull into and check into (yep) the wrong RV place. This place is small and nearly empty, and the site is tilted something fierce, but the electricity is good (for air conditioning, as it's 85 outside), I can get three TV channels (including some from Great Falls and Helena!) and the WiFi is a thing of strength and beauty. So I'm here for the night, and I hope to make it to Lethbridge tomorrow before I have a complete nervous breakdown. I plan to get the rig checked out there, to make sure all is well and hopefully reduce my stress a bit. I also find that I should not drive mutiple days without staying someplace for a couple of nights; once I get into the mountains, I suspect that will be easier. But I do want to see my parents and sister and everybody, so it's one last push tomorrow. Wish me luck! And the cats too, for having to deal with me!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Notta lotta wifi out here!
May 26--New Ulm, MN
This morning I got up and, while it was really cloudy, it wasn't raining. Still, it was cool and damp, so I took my time getting up and getting on the road. But I got started by 7:30, so it wasn't too late (I'm still doing this up-and-down-with-the-sun thing, so I've gotten plenty of sleep).
Highway 35, up the east side of the Mississippi through Wisconsin, is really quite lovely. There are bluffs on both sides of the wide river, along with islands and channels in the river, and the scenery is just beautiful. The towns along the way tend to spring up when there's a stream running into the river so there's a flat spot, although some of them just build their way up the bluffs (I don't think any of the small towns is more than a block or two deep away from the highway, simply because the hill is there). About an hour or so into the trip, I feel something furry on my leg--and it's Puck! He and Nell have managed a jailbreak from the kennel (they really, really hate being confined in the kennel, but it's safer that way). He wants to get down by my feet but is easily dissuaded, and I pull over as soon as I can. I grab him and Nell and put them back into the kennel, and fasten the zipper with a clip so Nell can't open it (though I know she tries, and has only managed to dump the kennel, complete with her, Puck, and the litter box, face-first onto the floor). I should figure out a way for them to ride not in the kennel, but I'm not sure loose is the answer either.
By the time I get to LaCrosse, it's raining. I take a quick route across the river up to Winona and back over, and it's stopped! Wonderful timing here.
I'm headed for Pepin, where Laura Ingalls was born. When I get there, I find the actual homestead was up in the hills, so up we go. Twisty windy county road, to a roadside rest with a small log cabin and a picnic shelter. The Big Woods no longer surrounds the Little House; it's almost all cleared and either plowed or pasture. Rather hilly area, and I tried to get into the cabin but it was locked. So I headed back and across the river to head toward Walnut Grove.
I got on Highway 60 and stayed on it for most of the rest of the day, unfortunately. The first part was nice: hilly and scenic and wooded. About the time the plains took over, the road surface deteriorated to what may well be the worst road I've ever driven on (and that's saying something). The concrete was broken and patched, and the patches were patched, and yet there were still potholes in the surface. I drove fast, thinking it was better to get through it as quickly as possible, except that it never ended! It was bang/thump/boom for more than half an hour, and everytime I got to a cross road I thought it would get better, and it didn't! I think I lost a few years of life on that road, and I have to say that if that didn't break the rig, then I have no fear of the Alaskan highway. None. It can't be worse than that stretch of road.
By the end of the Road of Doom, I was exhausted. Unfortunately, it's not always easy to find campgrounds here. I was looking for ones in my guide books, and there weren't really any. Many of the little towns would have municipal campgrounds, but they were hard to find and/or skeevy, so I kept going.
I finally stopped at a state park in New Ulm. I had to go through the town then up an incredibly steep hill; the RV had to downshift THREE TIMES to get up it. After that, the windy road into the campground was no problem. I got a nice spot (well, I changed spots once to one I thought would be better, which wasn't, really) and was so tired that I almost fell asleep at 6pm. I managed to stay awake for a while 'nother hour and a half or so, before crashing. I did manage a small walk first. This park had been developed by the CCC during the depression, and had a number of cool buildings. It also had a swimming hole, with water pumped in from the river, that just looked like an ad for water-borne diseases to me. Not appetizing at all. And then it started to rain again. Hence the crasing.
May 27--Pierre, SD
I woke up this morning relatively late--just before 7am. It was sort of dripping much of the night, not really raining, but probably condensation off of the trees. It was quite cloudy, and a bit breezy. I had found an alternate route off of the hill, which was much less steep, and headed west.
I stopped in Sleepy Eye (yes, there is such a place) to buy a few supplies (bananas, tortillas, cheese, and Pepsi!) and a chicken salad sandwich for breakfast. It was raining on and off, and drizzling the rest of the time, but the road here is pretty flat, so it's not a problem. An indicator of how harsh winter must be here: at either end of all these little towns are signs and barriers to close the road when necessary. It must be a bit unnerving to be basically stranded in one of these little towns, cut off from everything for the duration of the storm and maybe a bit after. I guess we're t5he same with hurricanes, but there is just NOTHING in between towns here.
I got to Walnut Grove around 10am. Most of the town in this plains part of the country seem to be built in river/stream valleys, and Walnut Grove is built on Plum Creek. I stopped at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum and got to go through the exhibits (some interesting history stuff and a lot of crap) before the school groups arrived. I also got to drive north a mile or so to near the actual dugout site; I didn't go there, since it was raining harder and the dugout is on a dirt road that I didn't trust, but it's apparently just a dent in the bank, so I don't think I missed much.
I then got back on the increasingly flat road and drove to De Smet, South Dakota. This is where Laura and her family lived for most of the books (from "On the shores of silver lake" onward). The downtown looks like the downtown of a lot of these small midwestern towns, but I stopped at the city hall and got a map. I walked a bit, to see where Pa Ingalls had a store, and the Wilders did too; I saw the house that Pa built for everyone to live in, and I also saw the house where everyone stayed the first winter they lived there. I also went to the graveyard south and west of town, and saw where Pa, Ma, Mary, Carrie, Grace, and Laura and Almanzo's baby boy who died were buried. It's a nice little town, and a lovely cemetery, up on a ridge.
Then it was off, driving more west. Flatter, drier, and once I got about 30 miles west of De Smet, the sun came out! I'm now in Pierre, on the banks of the Missouri, in a city park that has spaces for RVs to park (alas, no showers). I walked around a bit and went to a grocery (no sandwiches, alas again) and wound up grabbing dinner at what might be the slowest fast food place since the Great Falls Taco Bell; it took me about 15 minutes to get my food. I'm now back, almost ready to go to sleep (I should drink a lot of water first--I was dehydrated to begin with, and it really is drier here).
Tomorrow, it's north. Hopefully to the Highline, but we'll see.
The cats, by the way, continue to be fine. Nell saw what might have been her first close-up squirrel this morning at the state park, and immediately went into "Kill! KILL!" mode, which was amusing to watch. She doesn't have enough of a chance to play "great hunter", which is rather sad. She's also found the warmest place to sleep: up in the front of the overhead bunk, between me and the carpeted front wall, usually surrounded by the blanket. Puck is just fine as well; he has a nick on his ear from something (probably Nell getting pissed at him), and he still doesn't quite understand how to sleep best when it's cold (Nell burrows under the covers, but he resists that and just curls up against me, which isn't the warmest way).
I really, really hope that all the people here with their radios go away when it gets dark. There's a boatramp nearby, and a lot of these boats must have MONSTER sound systems, judging by the rap. Way to ruin a lovely river ride, guys!
May 28--Minot, ND
Well, the river actually wasn't that pretty. After a good night's sleep I was woken up by Puck around 6:45, and I got dressed and took a little walk. The river is a bit stagnant where we were, and was decorated with at least one large dead fish. I found out later why: the water district people have decided to not release water in case of a dry summer, so the dammed lakes are all full to the brim and beyond, but the Missouri river at Pierre is a bit starved. Oh well.
I headed out around 8am. I decided to see what would happen if I didn't pen up the cats. It didn't work out too well. Both Nell and Puck were disconcerted and wouldn't settle down--I had thought Puck at least would stay where he was (napping in the front of the bunk) but after some miles he tried desperately to get under my feet. I kept grabbing him by whatever was available and hauling him out, but he decided eventually that his happy place was wedged in the drivers side footwell of the door, which meant I couldn't use my door. Nell, it turns out, hid under the couch, which of course means that she couldn't get out from under there by herself. After half an hour or so, I gave up and put them both back in the kennel. Since they managed to tip the kennel over twice during the day's drive, I'm going to put it on the floor near the front. I don't think they'd enjoy being able to look out; they seem to want to hide!
I took the scenic route up around Lake Oahe, where I saw lots of pheasants (there are pheasants everywhere here) plus a couple of pronghorn! Not much traffic, so I could take it easy. I drove the rest of the way up to Mobridge, enjoying the sunny but not too hot day.
At Mobridge I got gas and decided to go up the west side of the lake. Again, not the best decision. There was construction which kept me waiting for almost half an hour to cross the bridge, and the road once I got on it was also rough and not well taken care of. I didn't have much of a chance to enjoy the scenery because I was too busy trying to stay on the road! I crossed the river again at Bismarck and headed north to the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center.
This is a big center affiliated with the Fort Mandan reconstruction nearby. The exhibits were good, but I did like a collection of watercolors by an artist who traveled to the area in 1835 or so, right before smallpox pretty much eradicated the Plains Indians around here. Very pretty, and rather fascinating. I also took this as an opportunity to see how well the RV would sit with the windows open--in fact, I found that I had forgotten to close one of my bunk windows, and it had been open all day! Luckily I could close it just fine when I discovered that (I had also left my suction-cup thermometer on a side window when I left, which I grabbed when I caged the cats--it was still there--quite a suction cup!). The rig stayed pretty cool, even though it was in full sun, at least in part I suspect because of the brisk wind that was blowing directl into the open windows. Well, we use what we can!
I'm in a campground in Minot. It's in a valley and has some trees; I may go for a walk in a bit, after I feed the cats. I actually ate three meals today, which I don't think I've done since I left home, and I can use the exercise. I also need to drink water--it is indeed drier here, and I don't need to be dehydrated.
This morning I got up and, while it was really cloudy, it wasn't raining. Still, it was cool and damp, so I took my time getting up and getting on the road. But I got started by 7:30, so it wasn't too late (I'm still doing this up-and-down-with-the-sun thing, so I've gotten plenty of sleep).
Highway 35, up the east side of the Mississippi through Wisconsin, is really quite lovely. There are bluffs on both sides of the wide river, along with islands and channels in the river, and the scenery is just beautiful. The towns along the way tend to spring up when there's a stream running into the river so there's a flat spot, although some of them just build their way up the bluffs (I don't think any of the small towns is more than a block or two deep away from the highway, simply because the hill is there). About an hour or so into the trip, I feel something furry on my leg--and it's Puck! He and Nell have managed a jailbreak from the kennel (they really, really hate being confined in the kennel, but it's safer that way). He wants to get down by my feet but is easily dissuaded, and I pull over as soon as I can. I grab him and Nell and put them back into the kennel, and fasten the zipper with a clip so Nell can't open it (though I know she tries, and has only managed to dump the kennel, complete with her, Puck, and the litter box, face-first onto the floor). I should figure out a way for them to ride not in the kennel, but I'm not sure loose is the answer either.
By the time I get to LaCrosse, it's raining. I take a quick route across the river up to Winona and back over, and it's stopped! Wonderful timing here.
I'm headed for Pepin, where Laura Ingalls was born. When I get there, I find the actual homestead was up in the hills, so up we go. Twisty windy county road, to a roadside rest with a small log cabin and a picnic shelter. The Big Woods no longer surrounds the Little House; it's almost all cleared and either plowed or pasture. Rather hilly area, and I tried to get into the cabin but it was locked. So I headed back and across the river to head toward Walnut Grove.
I got on Highway 60 and stayed on it for most of the rest of the day, unfortunately. The first part was nice: hilly and scenic and wooded. About the time the plains took over, the road surface deteriorated to what may well be the worst road I've ever driven on (and that's saying something). The concrete was broken and patched, and the patches were patched, and yet there were still potholes in the surface. I drove fast, thinking it was better to get through it as quickly as possible, except that it never ended! It was bang/thump/boom for more than half an hour, and everytime I got to a cross road I thought it would get better, and it didn't! I think I lost a few years of life on that road, and I have to say that if that didn't break the rig, then I have no fear of the Alaskan highway. None. It can't be worse than that stretch of road.
By the end of the Road of Doom, I was exhausted. Unfortunately, it's not always easy to find campgrounds here. I was looking for ones in my guide books, and there weren't really any. Many of the little towns would have municipal campgrounds, but they were hard to find and/or skeevy, so I kept going.
I finally stopped at a state park in New Ulm. I had to go through the town then up an incredibly steep hill; the RV had to downshift THREE TIMES to get up it. After that, the windy road into the campground was no problem. I got a nice spot (well, I changed spots once to one I thought would be better, which wasn't, really) and was so tired that I almost fell asleep at 6pm. I managed to stay awake for a while 'nother hour and a half or so, before crashing. I did manage a small walk first. This park had been developed by the CCC during the depression, and had a number of cool buildings. It also had a swimming hole, with water pumped in from the river, that just looked like an ad for water-borne diseases to me. Not appetizing at all. And then it started to rain again. Hence the crasing.
May 27--Pierre, SD
I woke up this morning relatively late--just before 7am. It was sort of dripping much of the night, not really raining, but probably condensation off of the trees. It was quite cloudy, and a bit breezy. I had found an alternate route off of the hill, which was much less steep, and headed west.
I stopped in Sleepy Eye (yes, there is such a place) to buy a few supplies (bananas, tortillas, cheese, and Pepsi!) and a chicken salad sandwich for breakfast. It was raining on and off, and drizzling the rest of the time, but the road here is pretty flat, so it's not a problem. An indicator of how harsh winter must be here: at either end of all these little towns are signs and barriers to close the road when necessary. It must be a bit unnerving to be basically stranded in one of these little towns, cut off from everything for the duration of the storm and maybe a bit after. I guess we're t5he same with hurricanes, but there is just NOTHING in between towns here.
I got to Walnut Grove around 10am. Most of the town in this plains part of the country seem to be built in river/stream valleys, and Walnut Grove is built on Plum Creek. I stopped at the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum and got to go through the exhibits (some interesting history stuff and a lot of crap) before the school groups arrived. I also got to drive north a mile or so to near the actual dugout site; I didn't go there, since it was raining harder and the dugout is on a dirt road that I didn't trust, but it's apparently just a dent in the bank, so I don't think I missed much.
I then got back on the increasingly flat road and drove to De Smet, South Dakota. This is where Laura and her family lived for most of the books (from "On the shores of silver lake" onward). The downtown looks like the downtown of a lot of these small midwestern towns, but I stopped at the city hall and got a map. I walked a bit, to see where Pa Ingalls had a store, and the Wilders did too; I saw the house that Pa built for everyone to live in, and I also saw the house where everyone stayed the first winter they lived there. I also went to the graveyard south and west of town, and saw where Pa, Ma, Mary, Carrie, Grace, and Laura and Almanzo's baby boy who died were buried. It's a nice little town, and a lovely cemetery, up on a ridge.
Then it was off, driving more west. Flatter, drier, and once I got about 30 miles west of De Smet, the sun came out! I'm now in Pierre, on the banks of the Missouri, in a city park that has spaces for RVs to park (alas, no showers). I walked around a bit and went to a grocery (no sandwiches, alas again) and wound up grabbing dinner at what might be the slowest fast food place since the Great Falls Taco Bell; it took me about 15 minutes to get my food. I'm now back, almost ready to go to sleep (I should drink a lot of water first--I was dehydrated to begin with, and it really is drier here).
Tomorrow, it's north. Hopefully to the Highline, but we'll see.
The cats, by the way, continue to be fine. Nell saw what might have been her first close-up squirrel this morning at the state park, and immediately went into "Kill! KILL!" mode, which was amusing to watch. She doesn't have enough of a chance to play "great hunter", which is rather sad. She's also found the warmest place to sleep: up in the front of the overhead bunk, between me and the carpeted front wall, usually surrounded by the blanket. Puck is just fine as well; he has a nick on his ear from something (probably Nell getting pissed at him), and he still doesn't quite understand how to sleep best when it's cold (Nell burrows under the covers, but he resists that and just curls up against me, which isn't the warmest way).
I really, really hope that all the people here with their radios go away when it gets dark. There's a boatramp nearby, and a lot of these boats must have MONSTER sound systems, judging by the rap. Way to ruin a lovely river ride, guys!
May 28--Minot, ND
Well, the river actually wasn't that pretty. After a good night's sleep I was woken up by Puck around 6:45, and I got dressed and took a little walk. The river is a bit stagnant where we were, and was decorated with at least one large dead fish. I found out later why: the water district people have decided to not release water in case of a dry summer, so the dammed lakes are all full to the brim and beyond, but the Missouri river at Pierre is a bit starved. Oh well.
I headed out around 8am. I decided to see what would happen if I didn't pen up the cats. It didn't work out too well. Both Nell and Puck were disconcerted and wouldn't settle down--I had thought Puck at least would stay where he was (napping in the front of the bunk) but after some miles he tried desperately to get under my feet. I kept grabbing him by whatever was available and hauling him out, but he decided eventually that his happy place was wedged in the drivers side footwell of the door, which meant I couldn't use my door. Nell, it turns out, hid under the couch, which of course means that she couldn't get out from under there by herself. After half an hour or so, I gave up and put them both back in the kennel. Since they managed to tip the kennel over twice during the day's drive, I'm going to put it on the floor near the front. I don't think they'd enjoy being able to look out; they seem to want to hide!
I took the scenic route up around Lake Oahe, where I saw lots of pheasants (there are pheasants everywhere here) plus a couple of pronghorn! Not much traffic, so I could take it easy. I drove the rest of the way up to Mobridge, enjoying the sunny but not too hot day.
At Mobridge I got gas and decided to go up the west side of the lake. Again, not the best decision. There was construction which kept me waiting for almost half an hour to cross the bridge, and the road once I got on it was also rough and not well taken care of. I didn't have much of a chance to enjoy the scenery because I was too busy trying to stay on the road! I crossed the river again at Bismarck and headed north to the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center.
This is a big center affiliated with the Fort Mandan reconstruction nearby. The exhibits were good, but I did like a collection of watercolors by an artist who traveled to the area in 1835 or so, right before smallpox pretty much eradicated the Plains Indians around here. Very pretty, and rather fascinating. I also took this as an opportunity to see how well the RV would sit with the windows open--in fact, I found that I had forgotten to close one of my bunk windows, and it had been open all day! Luckily I could close it just fine when I discovered that (I had also left my suction-cup thermometer on a side window when I left, which I grabbed when I caged the cats--it was still there--quite a suction cup!). The rig stayed pretty cool, even though it was in full sun, at least in part I suspect because of the brisk wind that was blowing directl into the open windows. Well, we use what we can!
I'm in a campground in Minot. It's in a valley and has some trees; I may go for a walk in a bit, after I feed the cats. I actually ate three meals today, which I don't think I've done since I left home, and I can use the exercise. I also need to drink water--it is indeed drier here, and I don't need to be dehydrated.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Of Mormons, starship captains, and phantom baseball players
May 25--Prairie du Chien, WI
Yesterday I woke early to the sound of rain on the roof. And when you're sleeping in an overcab bunk in an RV, the roof is about a foot above your head, and the rain tends to hit with a resounding thunk. I got us out and on the road by about 7:30, and headed the scenic route to Nauvoo, IL.
It turns out the rig handles very well in the rain. I had changed the windshield wiper blades, and they worked well as well. Still, the scenery was pretty--maybe more so, with a bit of mist. Missouri may be hilly, but when I crossed over the river to Illinois it flattened out quickly. I took the smaller roads up through lots of small towns (which tend to be a few houses, a church, maybe a gas station/convenience store, and probably some grain elevators), although it was good to know that most of the stations offered diesel. I haven't had any problems as of yet finding diesel when I need it, and I'm still going by the Western rule: you get to half a tank, you fill up. This still allows me to go about 300 miles, which is turning out to be just a bit less than a full day's run for me in this rig. I'm still getting wonderful MPG--around 19 or so. Can't hardly argue with that!
The road to Nauvoo runs at river level, and was quite pretty (even if I did have someone ahead of me who was driving even more slowly than I do!). The town itself was where Joseph Smith and the rest of the Mormons set up shop (literally) after being forced out of other places and right before moving to Utah (Joseph Smith was lynched while in jail near Nauvoo, and everyone up and left after that--can't hardly blame them). The town site itself is pretty empty, with some original houses still scattered here and there. I went to the visitor's center, which was full of young enthusiastic Mormon missionaries who were willing to talk my ear off, if I let them. I looked at the exhibits (not many), grabbed a pamphlet or two, and then headed back to the rig. I drove to the Joseph Smith homestead and got to see his grave, which wasn't quite as overdone as I had expected. If it hadn't been raining, this might have been a nice place to sit for a while--there are lots of things to do, and everything is free, as long as you don't mind a bit of prostlytizing (spell?) with your fun.
I headed back across the river (on a bridge with an 8-ton limit--my rig is about 5.5 tons, which didn't stop me from worrying) and then continued north through Iowa through the rain. I'd noticed something while looking at the map last night: Riverside, Iowa, is celebrating itself as the future birthplace of Jim Kirk from "Star Trek". So I made a quick detour and got to see the town's not-quite-trademark-infringement copy of the Enterprise, although I couldn't find the stone celebrating this "fact". Then I ate at A&W--yum!
The rain stopped just past Riverside, but then the wind started. Again strong, again broadside to the rig, again blowing me all over the road. Grr. I headed north and west, to the Field of Dreams. Yep, where they filmed the movie. The site is off a small road (although well signposted) and is free, although I did give a donation. The field itself seems small, and it really loses something without the corn (needless to say, the corn isn't really grown yet, although it is planted). There are actually quite a few houses nearby, and the field itself was full of young couples with kids, tossing balls around. I sat for a while and walked around, and then headed out yet again.
The RV is quite nice, but it sure seems top-heavy and sways like crazy if the road is uneven. Going out of the parking lot, there was some serious sway that caused some books to fall out of the cabinets (I need to get better latches) and land on the cat crate. No damage, but I think it convinced the cats that, while the RV is fine, travelling isn't (Nell spent a lot of time yesterday meowing piteously after I put her in the crate, and Puck has been known to mutter a bit himself about things).
This is when I started looking for a campground. It seems that the majority of the campgrounds in this part of the world are actually mini-trailer parks, and many don't have transient spaces or are rather skeevy. I pulled into three campgrounds in three different towns before I just decided to go to one that was listed in my campbook. I crossed the river yet again to Prairie du Chien, and then found that the campground wasn't posted. Luckily I found the road it was one, and found that this was also a semi-permanent campground. It does have a good-sized transient area, under some trees, and I was so tired that it didn't much matter at this point--at least the long-term trailers look nice. The wind picked up, and it started to rain again, but I slept quite well. It got down to about 60 degrees, and about 62 inside, which is delightful, although it does make sleeping a bit trickier, since when it's get cold then both cats want to curl up as close to me as possible, and that makes it hard for me to change positions. Oh well!
This morning it's cloudy but not raining yet; I'm listening to NPR over the computer, and should probably go catch the cats so I can get ready to go. Heading north and then west today--it's Laura Ingalls day(s)!
Yesterday I woke early to the sound of rain on the roof. And when you're sleeping in an overcab bunk in an RV, the roof is about a foot above your head, and the rain tends to hit with a resounding thunk. I got us out and on the road by about 7:30, and headed the scenic route to Nauvoo, IL.
It turns out the rig handles very well in the rain. I had changed the windshield wiper blades, and they worked well as well. Still, the scenery was pretty--maybe more so, with a bit of mist. Missouri may be hilly, but when I crossed over the river to Illinois it flattened out quickly. I took the smaller roads up through lots of small towns (which tend to be a few houses, a church, maybe a gas station/convenience store, and probably some grain elevators), although it was good to know that most of the stations offered diesel. I haven't had any problems as of yet finding diesel when I need it, and I'm still going by the Western rule: you get to half a tank, you fill up. This still allows me to go about 300 miles, which is turning out to be just a bit less than a full day's run for me in this rig. I'm still getting wonderful MPG--around 19 or so. Can't hardly argue with that!
The road to Nauvoo runs at river level, and was quite pretty (even if I did have someone ahead of me who was driving even more slowly than I do!). The town itself was where Joseph Smith and the rest of the Mormons set up shop (literally) after being forced out of other places and right before moving to Utah (Joseph Smith was lynched while in jail near Nauvoo, and everyone up and left after that--can't hardly blame them). The town site itself is pretty empty, with some original houses still scattered here and there. I went to the visitor's center, which was full of young enthusiastic Mormon missionaries who were willing to talk my ear off, if I let them. I looked at the exhibits (not many), grabbed a pamphlet or two, and then headed back to the rig. I drove to the Joseph Smith homestead and got to see his grave, which wasn't quite as overdone as I had expected. If it hadn't been raining, this might have been a nice place to sit for a while--there are lots of things to do, and everything is free, as long as you don't mind a bit of prostlytizing (spell?) with your fun.
I headed back across the river (on a bridge with an 8-ton limit--my rig is about 5.5 tons, which didn't stop me from worrying) and then continued north through Iowa through the rain. I'd noticed something while looking at the map last night: Riverside, Iowa, is celebrating itself as the future birthplace of Jim Kirk from "Star Trek". So I made a quick detour and got to see the town's not-quite-trademark-infringement copy of the Enterprise, although I couldn't find the stone celebrating this "fact". Then I ate at A&W--yum!
The rain stopped just past Riverside, but then the wind started. Again strong, again broadside to the rig, again blowing me all over the road. Grr. I headed north and west, to the Field of Dreams. Yep, where they filmed the movie. The site is off a small road (although well signposted) and is free, although I did give a donation. The field itself seems small, and it really loses something without the corn (needless to say, the corn isn't really grown yet, although it is planted). There are actually quite a few houses nearby, and the field itself was full of young couples with kids, tossing balls around. I sat for a while and walked around, and then headed out yet again.
The RV is quite nice, but it sure seems top-heavy and sways like crazy if the road is uneven. Going out of the parking lot, there was some serious sway that caused some books to fall out of the cabinets (I need to get better latches) and land on the cat crate. No damage, but I think it convinced the cats that, while the RV is fine, travelling isn't (Nell spent a lot of time yesterday meowing piteously after I put her in the crate, and Puck has been known to mutter a bit himself about things).
This is when I started looking for a campground. It seems that the majority of the campgrounds in this part of the world are actually mini-trailer parks, and many don't have transient spaces or are rather skeevy. I pulled into three campgrounds in three different towns before I just decided to go to one that was listed in my campbook. I crossed the river yet again to Prairie du Chien, and then found that the campground wasn't posted. Luckily I found the road it was one, and found that this was also a semi-permanent campground. It does have a good-sized transient area, under some trees, and I was so tired that it didn't much matter at this point--at least the long-term trailers look nice. The wind picked up, and it started to rain again, but I slept quite well. It got down to about 60 degrees, and about 62 inside, which is delightful, although it does make sleeping a bit trickier, since when it's get cold then both cats want to curl up as close to me as possible, and that makes it hard for me to change positions. Oh well!
This morning it's cloudy but not raining yet; I'm listening to NPR over the computer, and should probably go catch the cats so I can get ready to go. Heading north and then west today--it's Laura Ingalls day(s)!
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Hot Hilly Hannibal
May 23-24--Hannibal, MO
Yesterday I walked to town, which was quite a trip. I had to walk up a good-sized hill, then down even farther, then up and down a bridge before I got to downtown. Still, if it hadn't been so hot (it's been sunny and hot since I began), it wouldn't have been bad. I walked to Main Street, which is where the Twain on Main things are.
It's basically a street fair; lining the street were tents selling items as well as food. The buildings are general early-20th century small-town structures, although once you get away from Main a lot of buildings are dilapidated (which is true for all the buildings here--many are in great shop, and just as many are falling apart or not taken care of). Most every building downtown has some sort of Twain connection, although there's also the "official" Twain residence, which since I didn't want to pay to get in, I didn't see. I did eventually eat at the Mark Twain Dinette; I got the buffet, which wasn't worth it. The salad bar wasn't bad (although the ranch dressing was lumpy!), but the hot dishes were disappointing. The beef was good, but the catfish came complete with fins and tail and backbone, and had very little meat, while the ribs were rather fatty. Even the veggies were weird, but at least the apple dumplings were good. I still ate quite a bit, which was a problem since I did want to do see the Molly Brown house.
Margaret Tobin was born here and lived here until she was nearly 20. The house she was born in is up a hill, which with a full stomach was quite fun walking up to. I had to sit in the yard and pant a while before I went in. It's a very nice house on the outside (they've fixed it up at least twice), but very small. A bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a room that probably held livestock, for around 7 people. There was lots to read, which I enjoyed; she was quite literate for someone who probably didn't get a lot of formal schooling. And, by the way, the Broadway musical got most everything wrong--another illusion shattered!
I then waddled back down the hill and sat by the river a while. I walked to the Tom and Huck statue, near Twain's house, and then along the river. There's lots of levees here, for pretty good reasons. The openings in the levees are sealed with big steel plugs, basically, which sit next to the spots where they made be needed. The town flooded big time in 1973, and somewhat less so (mostly due to the enhanced levees) in 1993. Still, there are plaques everywhere showing the high water levels for the various floods, and some of them are quite high.
Then I walked home, which was really long and hot. I neglected to walk up to Lovers Leap, mostly because it looked really, really high (and apparently is--there's a race every year called the "Hannibal Cannibal", where people run from town to the cave then up Lovers Leap and back, which tends to "eat people alive"). When I got back it was rather warm in the RV; I don't trust the electric here and didn't want to leave the rig shut up with the cats inside, so I left some windows open (remember, it's in the shade). Still, it got hot, so I turned on the A/C, drank a lot of water, and relaxed and read the rest of the day.
Today I did laundry first thing (I do tend to do laundry first thing on Sunday, and for commercial machines these did really well). Then I decided to slack and took the trolley back to town. The trolley ride itself was fascinating, if only for the fact that I never would have known how steep the hills are around here. That trolley went up, down, and practically sideways along roads that were terrifying in good conditions--I'd hate to have to drive them in snow or ice! There's a couple of mansions around here, at least one of which is perched rather precariously on a ridge (although since it's been there for years, I suspect it's safe).
When I got back downtown I ate street fair food: a catfish sandwich (VERY good), a pulled pork sandwich (also good), a roasted ear of corn (so tasty!) and Pepsi (there's Pepsi everywhere here--there must be a bottler nearby or something). I also watched a Mark Twain impersonator tell stories, petted an alpaca, sat on the riverbank for a while, and also watched people get dunked in a dunk tank (hey, don't let my love of Broadway musicals fool you, I'm not highbrow). Then onto the trolley and back home, where I read some more. I'm almost ready to stop reading now, although I'm sure I'll be doing more tonight. The rig wasn't as hot today, by the way; there were lots of high clouds filtering the sun, and also there was a breeze for the first time--it's amazing how quickly a breeze can cool things down, and how good it feels.
The cats are just fine. They love getting on the upper bunk and looking out the windows, although when I was outside fiddling around the rig Puck got in the window and kept meowing at me; I don't know if he wanted to come out or for me to come in! Nell hasn't burrowed into the couch since that first time, even with lots of exciting things going on outside.
I'm also getting lots of comments on the rig. It's funny; I'm right by the main road, and if people talk there I can hear them, and I've startled people twice by saying hi to them out the window!
I'm leaving tomorrow and heading north; maybe to Nauvoo, and then up toward Wisconsin. It's actually supposed to rain tomorrow; that storm that's been raining all over the south is headed here, where it will combine with another storm coming through the Dakotas. Nothing severe, but I don't think I'll have to worry about the sun for a bit. And I guess I'll find out how the rig handles rain!
(yes, I intend to get pictures on here at some point--just not right now)
Yesterday I walked to town, which was quite a trip. I had to walk up a good-sized hill, then down even farther, then up and down a bridge before I got to downtown. Still, if it hadn't been so hot (it's been sunny and hot since I began), it wouldn't have been bad. I walked to Main Street, which is where the Twain on Main things are.
It's basically a street fair; lining the street were tents selling items as well as food. The buildings are general early-20th century small-town structures, although once you get away from Main a lot of buildings are dilapidated (which is true for all the buildings here--many are in great shop, and just as many are falling apart or not taken care of). Most every building downtown has some sort of Twain connection, although there's also the "official" Twain residence, which since I didn't want to pay to get in, I didn't see. I did eventually eat at the Mark Twain Dinette; I got the buffet, which wasn't worth it. The salad bar wasn't bad (although the ranch dressing was lumpy!), but the hot dishes were disappointing. The beef was good, but the catfish came complete with fins and tail and backbone, and had very little meat, while the ribs were rather fatty. Even the veggies were weird, but at least the apple dumplings were good. I still ate quite a bit, which was a problem since I did want to do see the Molly Brown house.
Margaret Tobin was born here and lived here until she was nearly 20. The house she was born in is up a hill, which with a full stomach was quite fun walking up to. I had to sit in the yard and pant a while before I went in. It's a very nice house on the outside (they've fixed it up at least twice), but very small. A bedroom, a living room, a kitchen, and a room that probably held livestock, for around 7 people. There was lots to read, which I enjoyed; she was quite literate for someone who probably didn't get a lot of formal schooling. And, by the way, the Broadway musical got most everything wrong--another illusion shattered!
I then waddled back down the hill and sat by the river a while. I walked to the Tom and Huck statue, near Twain's house, and then along the river. There's lots of levees here, for pretty good reasons. The openings in the levees are sealed with big steel plugs, basically, which sit next to the spots where they made be needed. The town flooded big time in 1973, and somewhat less so (mostly due to the enhanced levees) in 1993. Still, there are plaques everywhere showing the high water levels for the various floods, and some of them are quite high.
Then I walked home, which was really long and hot. I neglected to walk up to Lovers Leap, mostly because it looked really, really high (and apparently is--there's a race every year called the "Hannibal Cannibal", where people run from town to the cave then up Lovers Leap and back, which tends to "eat people alive"). When I got back it was rather warm in the RV; I don't trust the electric here and didn't want to leave the rig shut up with the cats inside, so I left some windows open (remember, it's in the shade). Still, it got hot, so I turned on the A/C, drank a lot of water, and relaxed and read the rest of the day.
Today I did laundry first thing (I do tend to do laundry first thing on Sunday, and for commercial machines these did really well). Then I decided to slack and took the trolley back to town. The trolley ride itself was fascinating, if only for the fact that I never would have known how steep the hills are around here. That trolley went up, down, and practically sideways along roads that were terrifying in good conditions--I'd hate to have to drive them in snow or ice! There's a couple of mansions around here, at least one of which is perched rather precariously on a ridge (although since it's been there for years, I suspect it's safe).
When I got back downtown I ate street fair food: a catfish sandwich (VERY good), a pulled pork sandwich (also good), a roasted ear of corn (so tasty!) and Pepsi (there's Pepsi everywhere here--there must be a bottler nearby or something). I also watched a Mark Twain impersonator tell stories, petted an alpaca, sat on the riverbank for a while, and also watched people get dunked in a dunk tank (hey, don't let my love of Broadway musicals fool you, I'm not highbrow). Then onto the trolley and back home, where I read some more. I'm almost ready to stop reading now, although I'm sure I'll be doing more tonight. The rig wasn't as hot today, by the way; there were lots of high clouds filtering the sun, and also there was a breeze for the first time--it's amazing how quickly a breeze can cool things down, and how good it feels.
The cats are just fine. They love getting on the upper bunk and looking out the windows, although when I was outside fiddling around the rig Puck got in the window and kept meowing at me; I don't know if he wanted to come out or for me to come in! Nell hasn't burrowed into the couch since that first time, even with lots of exciting things going on outside.
I'm also getting lots of comments on the rig. It's funny; I'm right by the main road, and if people talk there I can hear them, and I've startled people twice by saying hi to them out the window!
I'm leaving tomorrow and heading north; maybe to Nauvoo, and then up toward Wisconsin. It's actually supposed to rain tomorrow; that storm that's been raining all over the south is headed here, where it will combine with another storm coming through the Dakotas. Nothing severe, but I don't think I'll have to worry about the sun for a bit. And I guess I'll find out how the rig handles rain!
(yes, I intend to get pictures on here at some point--just not right now)
Friday, May 22, 2009
Spelunking
May 22--Hannibal, MO
I slept well again last night, although it was rather warm to begin with, and then I had to rearrange myself around the cats a couple of times--I can't just shove them off the bed now, after all. When I woke up I got to read and relax a while, before going out to take a cave tour.
The Mark TWain cave is literally a stone's-throw from my campsite, and I got to go on a tour with only about nine other people, as opposed to going with a bunch of schoolkids. Well, we had two kids in our group who never learned to talk quietly when on a tour, and I had to shush them a couple of times when they were just yammering on and we couldn't hear the guide. I'm not sure what the grandparents thought, but then again I didn't care much. Our guide droned a bit, and had a limp that was so pronounced I wasn't sure he was going to make it to the end of the tour. I did try to take some pictures, although I'm not sure how well they'll turn out. I'll post them as soon as I figure out how to do so--I just tried and it didn't work, and I'll try again later when I'm not as tired.
I got through the tour and went back to the RV to see how the cats were doing. Puck was fine, but I couldn't see Nell anywhere, which worried me a bit, until I discovered that she had managed to get behind the couch again. I let her loose and then sat with them a while (reading, so it wasn't a huge sacrifice) then I wandered back down to see the other tourist traps nearby. It turns out the giant tourist trap across the street, Sawyer's Landing, is closed, so I had to make do with the candle shop (which did have some cool candles) and a gem shop, the highlight of which was a sluice where kids could pan through dirt that had been preloaded with some cheaper gems. The kids had a great time, and it did look like fun. I also got to chat for a while with the proprietor before the kids descended, who was a nice guy.
I came back, and Nell wasn't under the couch! She's getting better and better all the time, although she still scares easily. Heck, it's only been a couple of days, she's entitled. It turns out that there was lots of see right around my campsite, as the electrical company was here fixing some overloaded wiring that my RV was hooked to (oops!) and string some more wire to other sites that had no electricity (including to the sunny one I was supposed to be in, but they haven't told me to move, and since that outlet they just put in has to handle two sites, I'm not going to move even if they ask me; this site is shaded enough that I don't need the A/C, and I'd rather not rely on electricity to keep the cats alive when the electricity has been shown to be unreliable). Some people across the way have a two-year-younger version of the same rig I have, and we traded stories.
Then I read some more, watched some TV, and got on the Internet, whereupon when I'm done I plan to shower, maybe eat something (I've not been hungry hardly at all since I started this trip; I'm not sure if it's nerves or if it's just my body going back to equilibrium after the massive eating I did last school year--at any rate, I'm just drinking lots of water and going with it) and read some more before I go to sleep. Ah, the exciting life! I do plan to actually leave the campground tomorrow, so hopefully it will be more interesting. And try to get the pictures working, darn it--they're pretty cool!
I slept well again last night, although it was rather warm to begin with, and then I had to rearrange myself around the cats a couple of times--I can't just shove them off the bed now, after all. When I woke up I got to read and relax a while, before going out to take a cave tour.
The Mark TWain cave is literally a stone's-throw from my campsite, and I got to go on a tour with only about nine other people, as opposed to going with a bunch of schoolkids. Well, we had two kids in our group who never learned to talk quietly when on a tour, and I had to shush them a couple of times when they were just yammering on and we couldn't hear the guide. I'm not sure what the grandparents thought, but then again I didn't care much. Our guide droned a bit, and had a limp that was so pronounced I wasn't sure he was going to make it to the end of the tour. I did try to take some pictures, although I'm not sure how well they'll turn out. I'll post them as soon as I figure out how to do so--I just tried and it didn't work, and I'll try again later when I'm not as tired.
I got through the tour and went back to the RV to see how the cats were doing. Puck was fine, but I couldn't see Nell anywhere, which worried me a bit, until I discovered that she had managed to get behind the couch again. I let her loose and then sat with them a while (reading, so it wasn't a huge sacrifice) then I wandered back down to see the other tourist traps nearby. It turns out the giant tourist trap across the street, Sawyer's Landing, is closed, so I had to make do with the candle shop (which did have some cool candles) and a gem shop, the highlight of which was a sluice where kids could pan through dirt that had been preloaded with some cheaper gems. The kids had a great time, and it did look like fun. I also got to chat for a while with the proprietor before the kids descended, who was a nice guy.
I came back, and Nell wasn't under the couch! She's getting better and better all the time, although she still scares easily. Heck, it's only been a couple of days, she's entitled. It turns out that there was lots of see right around my campsite, as the electrical company was here fixing some overloaded wiring that my RV was hooked to (oops!) and string some more wire to other sites that had no electricity (including to the sunny one I was supposed to be in, but they haven't told me to move, and since that outlet they just put in has to handle two sites, I'm not going to move even if they ask me; this site is shaded enough that I don't need the A/C, and I'd rather not rely on electricity to keep the cats alive when the electricity has been shown to be unreliable). Some people across the way have a two-year-younger version of the same rig I have, and we traded stories.
Then I read some more, watched some TV, and got on the Internet, whereupon when I'm done I plan to shower, maybe eat something (I've not been hungry hardly at all since I started this trip; I'm not sure if it's nerves or if it's just my body going back to equilibrium after the massive eating I did last school year--at any rate, I'm just drinking lots of water and going with it) and read some more before I go to sleep. Ah, the exciting life! I do plan to actually leave the campground tomorrow, so hopefully it will be more interesting. And try to get the pictures working, darn it--they're pretty cool!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Looking for Shoeless Joe Hardy . . .
May 21--Hannibal, MO
I slept really well last night, even with cats going up and down and such. I may well need to get a board or something to put under the bunk, though; there's a cut-out part (to make it easier for people to get to the driving seats, though I'm short enough that I can just leave the bed down all the time) that sags a bit when I put my weight on it. This is a bit disconcerting, so a board might be a good idea. I woke up again around 7am, and futzed on the computer trying to find a place to stay. It's Memorial Day weekend, and everything is pretty much full. I considered lots of different options until I called a place that told me last night that they were full, and now they had a space! So I loaded up and started driving around 9:30.
I took the Interstate to St. Louis, then took various bypasses to Highway 79. The Interstate was in much better shape than it was in Alabama, although there were still some jouncy sections, and thank God that there were no left merges! I drove up Highway 79, through tiny towns and along a railroad track, lots of grain elevators and such--I know I'm in the Midwest because I heard a farm report! The road was narrow and windy and up-and-down, and it was rather interesting at times in the rig (which tends to sway alarmingly at times--it's a bit taller than I'm used to, although I've tried not to make it too top-heavy). I knew the Mississippi was over to the right, although I couldn't see it until Clarksville. On the left were bluffs that the road occasionally drove over (and a bit through--lots of sedimentary rocks here).
I missed the campground and had to turn around in Hannibal itself to get here. It's located on the grounds of the cave that Mark Twain used in "Tom Sawyer", and I plan to take a tour of the cave tomorrow. I was given a small spot in the very front that wasn't used often, and I found out why: the electric wasn't working. Since it was hot I was worried about the cats overheating more than anything else, and after having a maintenance guy work on the electric with no success, they finally sent me across the drive to one of their "emergency" spots (they keep it open in case of emergency, and the maintenance guy said that no electric counted as an emergency!). It's a nicer spot: shadier (right under a big tree), wider and flatter. And some really good WiFi, hence this post.
I'm completely exhausted, so I suspect it's going to be a shower and then an early night (then again, they all have been!). I plan to do little or nothing tomorrow but relax (and explore the cave), as the town is having Mark Twain Days this weekend, with a street fair and parades and suchlike, which I'll do Saturday and probably Sunday. I'm here until Monday, since I figure I'll be better able to find campspots after the holiday weekend is over.
I'm finding it amusing that parked next to my mini-motorhome is a conversion bus (which if it isn't actually twice as long as my baby, is close), pulling a full-sized SUV complete with bikes on the back. It's a study in contrasts: we're the alpha and omega of motor homes!
I slept really well last night, even with cats going up and down and such. I may well need to get a board or something to put under the bunk, though; there's a cut-out part (to make it easier for people to get to the driving seats, though I'm short enough that I can just leave the bed down all the time) that sags a bit when I put my weight on it. This is a bit disconcerting, so a board might be a good idea. I woke up again around 7am, and futzed on the computer trying to find a place to stay. It's Memorial Day weekend, and everything is pretty much full. I considered lots of different options until I called a place that told me last night that they were full, and now they had a space! So I loaded up and started driving around 9:30.
I took the Interstate to St. Louis, then took various bypasses to Highway 79. The Interstate was in much better shape than it was in Alabama, although there were still some jouncy sections, and thank God that there were no left merges! I drove up Highway 79, through tiny towns and along a railroad track, lots of grain elevators and such--I know I'm in the Midwest because I heard a farm report! The road was narrow and windy and up-and-down, and it was rather interesting at times in the rig (which tends to sway alarmingly at times--it's a bit taller than I'm used to, although I've tried not to make it too top-heavy). I knew the Mississippi was over to the right, although I couldn't see it until Clarksville. On the left were bluffs that the road occasionally drove over (and a bit through--lots of sedimentary rocks here).
I missed the campground and had to turn around in Hannibal itself to get here. It's located on the grounds of the cave that Mark Twain used in "Tom Sawyer", and I plan to take a tour of the cave tomorrow. I was given a small spot in the very front that wasn't used often, and I found out why: the electric wasn't working. Since it was hot I was worried about the cats overheating more than anything else, and after having a maintenance guy work on the electric with no success, they finally sent me across the drive to one of their "emergency" spots (they keep it open in case of emergency, and the maintenance guy said that no electric counted as an emergency!). It's a nicer spot: shadier (right under a big tree), wider and flatter. And some really good WiFi, hence this post.
I'm completely exhausted, so I suspect it's going to be a shower and then an early night (then again, they all have been!). I plan to do little or nothing tomorrow but relax (and explore the cave), as the town is having Mark Twain Days this weekend, with a street fair and parades and suchlike, which I'll do Saturday and probably Sunday. I'm here until Monday, since I figure I'll be better able to find campspots after the holiday weekend is over.
I'm finding it amusing that parked next to my mini-motorhome is a conversion bus (which if it isn't actually twice as long as my baby, is close), pulling a full-sized SUV complete with bikes on the back. It's a study in contrasts: we're the alpha and omega of motor homes!
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
And we're off!
May 19—Jasper, AL
I made it! It was kind of dicey there for a minute, but I made it!
I apparently spent so much time relaxing yesterday that I didn’t get enough done, and wound up basically finishing up from 6am to 10am this morning. Which included finding out that the el cheapo bike rack I bought didn’t fit my bike, so no bike this trip. Oh well.
I chucked the last of the garbage and dropped off my keys at 10am, then went off to the local gas station to fill up. I never knew before that not every pump in a gas station that offers diesel, has diesel. They tend to be at the end of the rows, and I had to drive around a bit to find one. I’m VERY glad that this rig has a back-up camera; it’s a lifesaver—what on earth were all those people doing filling up at 10am on a Tuesday?!? I filled up (and yes, diesel was cheaper than regular gas—it’s a trend that seem to be holding, at least so far) and headed out.
I’d decided to take the scenic route, since I didn’t plan on driving very fast, and meandered my way up to Alabama. The wind was rather spectacular: between a big high-pressure area to the north and a possibly-tropical low pressure area to the south, I had winds that varied between headwind and broadside at up to 30mpg. Let me tell you, when I come out from some woods to a farmer field, the rig swerves like crazy. Another reason not to go too fast, although fast enough so that if the tropical thing did show up, I’d be long gone.
I managed to stick to mostly-two-lane roads up until Montgomery, and then switched to the interstate. I hate the interstate. Terrible road surface, people driving like maniacs, just awful. Birmingham was spectacular in its awfulness: concrete road surface (which meant that I spent a lot of time bouncing up in the air around the joints—imagine a motor home, even a small one, BOUNCING UP IN THE AIR), lots of noise, inability to get into the lane I needed—the best was when I went from I-65 to I-20 to get to route 78, and had to cross three lanes of near-rush-hour traffic in less than a mile to get to the exit. Give me two-lanes anytime!
I filled up at Birmingham (my first tank got me 17.3 mpg, which I figure isn’t bad given that a third of it was interstate at relatively-high speed), then came here to Sleepy Holler RV Park and Revival Camp. At least, I think it may be a revival camp; there’s a church on-site and the office is paved with religious stuff. It was also “fun” driving up the very steep narrow dirt road to get to the office; I am SO glad that I have a small rig! It’s pretty quiet; there is a country road a stones-throw from my site, but it’s still probably quieter than my old apartment. I’ve got most everything put away, but I have to make my bed yet. I’m hoping the cats will be able to get to the bunk—there’s not an easy way for them to jump, and I doubt they can use the ladder.
Ah yes, the cats. Nell has known that something is up for a while; she’s been looking very suspiciously at me since the boxes appeared, and she wouldn’t let me near her until I would make it clear that I wasn’t going to grab her. When I was ready to load them, I trapped them in the bedroom while I set up their fabric-crate in the dinette seat (where it fit quite nicely!). I decided to load Nell via the plastic crate, and had to corner her behind the toilet in the bathroom. I give her credit though: once she realized that crating was inevitable, she went in on her own. She did not, however, get out, and I had to disassemble the crate to get her in the kennel. Puck I just grabbed and carried out and stuck him in. They rode pretty well; Puck did meow a few times in Birmingham, I suspect as a result of the rough ride, and since I was also a bit vocal at the time I didn’t much blame him. I let them out when I got to the campsite (after blocking the footwell of the driver’s seat to make sure Puck didn’t get under the hood somehow), and both left the kennel fairly quickly. I thought Nell was adapting much faster than she did to the trailer, until I realized that she had crawled UNDER the fabric kennel in order to hide. She just doesn’t like the idea that people can see her and be all around her; she’s not secure yet. Puck is also a bit insecure, but not nearly as much—he’s much more of a “dog” than she is. Both ate and are using the litter boxes (one in the kennel, one in the passenger’s seat footwell) nicely.
Well, I’m going to go shower (not using mine yet, as I haven’t had a chance to sanitize the water system and I’m too damn tired to do it now—besides, I don’t much trust rural well water) and maybe see if I can get anything on the TV once I finish listening to NPR. Such civilization!
Hope all is well with y’all.
May 20—Perryburg, MO
I didn’t sleep all that well last night, I suspect for a couple of reasons. First, it had been a stressful day and I was still a bit wired. Also, it was the first night in the new rig, and I needed to get used to the new mattress (harder than my memory foam, and not completely level) and it smelled a bit of chemicals (I’m not sure if it was from the commercial dryer I had washed the linen in, or if the RV place had cleaned and/or Simonized the bed—the smell seemed to get better with time). I was also a bit worried about how the cats would react. Nell figured out how to get up to the overhead bunk: she hurled herself bodily from the dinette to the bed, a combination high/long jump. She was also smart enough to figure out that the way to get down was to jump onto the couch and not onto the hard floor or back onto the dinette. Puck took longer to figure this out; I woke up at 12:30 to pee (yay indoor toilet!) and he was curled up into a little ball on the couch—I’m wondering if he even knew I was still in the rig! He also didn’t really want to wake up, which worried me (y’all know me, I live to worry) so I poked him a few times to make sure he was awake. He then managed to clamber up to the bunk, going from the couch to a rolled sleeping bag I used as a cushion to the extra dinette cushion I have leaning against the bunk to the bunk itself. He also figured out how to get down; I was afraid that he’d jump somewhere other than the couch, but he didn’t. So I spent much of the rest of the night rearranging myself around Nell, who was under the covers (which served a double purpose: she kept warm (it got down to 55 inside the rig last night) and she can’t see out, which she likes when travelling as she’s still insecure) and Puck arranging himself around some portion of my anatomy. Ah well. I did sleep better toward the end of the night (which is always true—I also had some weird dreams: I don’t really know Adam Lambert, do I?) and woke up at the late (for me) time of 7am.
I wanted to get on the road rather quickly, so I fed the cats and then got everything together and left around 8am. I had to bribe Nell out of the bed with some of Puck’s uneaten food; she really wanted to stay under the covers, and if I weren’t afraid she might either get motion sick in my bed or decide to come out in the middle of a bad road section, I might have let her.
On the way back to the highway, I stopped at a Winn Dixie to buy some supplies, most notably Scott toilet paper (RV septics don’t like nice thick toilet paper—they like stuff that dissolves when it hits the water—but there’s no toilet paper holder in the bath!). I then picked up the stuff I hadn’t stowed properly (which was now all over the floor, including a pint or so of water—oops!) and continued on Highway 78.
Remember yesterday when I talked about Birmingham roads? I found something worse! Still in Alabama (I now know why there are churches everywhere here: people are so pleased at surviving the drive that they want to thank God IMMEDIATELY), on Highway 78: they were paving the right lane, so they had us all go into the left lane. Except we didn’t have the entire left lane; they had added a wee little paved shoulder to the left side, and the trucks and I were balanced precariously between hitting the dividing drums in the middle of our lane or going into the ditch (which, since it was really steep, I assumed would result in my rolling the RV). Add in the wind still blowing hard, and it was a lovely few miles of driving. White-knuckle, freaking out the whole way, lots of fun. I don’t know how much room I actually had on the right side, since I was afraid to look into my right-side mirror, but I was on the edge on the left. I hate Alabama roads, I really do. I did, however, make it without a problem (and it made me really glad I had bought myself a Pepsi!).
Around the Alabama/Mississippi border the Appalachian foothills that I’d been in since Birmingham vanished, and the land got quite flat and pretty much stayed that way (with the occasional rolling hill). I didn’t stop to see the Elvis stuff in Tupelo; it turned out to be a “just keep driving” day. Not much to see, really, though. I drove up Hwy 45 to Jackson, then 412 to I-155, then up I-55. The Mississippi is really high; lots of flooding in the low-lying fields around the river. I even saw a couple of cars trapped on a high place on a levee, with the road ahead and behind washed out (who knows for how long). My weather continues nice, sunny and warm (maybe too warm; I had to turn on the AC this afternoon after crossing the Mississippi, and while it did cool down the rig nicely (I was more worried about the cats than myself) it sure did hammer the mileage! I got nearly 19 mpg the second tank, but I doubt I’ll get anywhere near that this time), and the godforsaken wind may well have died down.
I’m in a campground between Cape Girardeau and Ste. Genevieve. It used to be a KOA, and like most it’s within sight of the interstate—in fact, I can see it from where I sit now at the dinette typing. Blah. But beggers can’t be choosers; I’m exhausted, there aren’t that many campgrounds around here, and I ain’t moving. Maybe I’ll just pretend that it’s white noise to help me sleep! I know I won’t go swimming; the pool is a rather unappetizing shade of green. And hopefully the guys who just got out their ATV will stop driving it around soon (they just ran it into a small swing set—never a dull moment!).
I made it! It was kind of dicey there for a minute, but I made it!
I apparently spent so much time relaxing yesterday that I didn’t get enough done, and wound up basically finishing up from 6am to 10am this morning. Which included finding out that the el cheapo bike rack I bought didn’t fit my bike, so no bike this trip. Oh well.
I chucked the last of the garbage and dropped off my keys at 10am, then went off to the local gas station to fill up. I never knew before that not every pump in a gas station that offers diesel, has diesel. They tend to be at the end of the rows, and I had to drive around a bit to find one. I’m VERY glad that this rig has a back-up camera; it’s a lifesaver—what on earth were all those people doing filling up at 10am on a Tuesday?!? I filled up (and yes, diesel was cheaper than regular gas—it’s a trend that seem to be holding, at least so far) and headed out.
I’d decided to take the scenic route, since I didn’t plan on driving very fast, and meandered my way up to Alabama. The wind was rather spectacular: between a big high-pressure area to the north and a possibly-tropical low pressure area to the south, I had winds that varied between headwind and broadside at up to 30mpg. Let me tell you, when I come out from some woods to a farmer field, the rig swerves like crazy. Another reason not to go too fast, although fast enough so that if the tropical thing did show up, I’d be long gone.
I managed to stick to mostly-two-lane roads up until Montgomery, and then switched to the interstate. I hate the interstate. Terrible road surface, people driving like maniacs, just awful. Birmingham was spectacular in its awfulness: concrete road surface (which meant that I spent a lot of time bouncing up in the air around the joints—imagine a motor home, even a small one, BOUNCING UP IN THE AIR), lots of noise, inability to get into the lane I needed—the best was when I went from I-65 to I-20 to get to route 78, and had to cross three lanes of near-rush-hour traffic in less than a mile to get to the exit. Give me two-lanes anytime!
I filled up at Birmingham (my first tank got me 17.3 mpg, which I figure isn’t bad given that a third of it was interstate at relatively-high speed), then came here to Sleepy Holler RV Park and Revival Camp. At least, I think it may be a revival camp; there’s a church on-site and the office is paved with religious stuff. It was also “fun” driving up the very steep narrow dirt road to get to the office; I am SO glad that I have a small rig! It’s pretty quiet; there is a country road a stones-throw from my site, but it’s still probably quieter than my old apartment. I’ve got most everything put away, but I have to make my bed yet. I’m hoping the cats will be able to get to the bunk—there’s not an easy way for them to jump, and I doubt they can use the ladder.
Ah yes, the cats. Nell has known that something is up for a while; she’s been looking very suspiciously at me since the boxes appeared, and she wouldn’t let me near her until I would make it clear that I wasn’t going to grab her. When I was ready to load them, I trapped them in the bedroom while I set up their fabric-crate in the dinette seat (where it fit quite nicely!). I decided to load Nell via the plastic crate, and had to corner her behind the toilet in the bathroom. I give her credit though: once she realized that crating was inevitable, she went in on her own. She did not, however, get out, and I had to disassemble the crate to get her in the kennel. Puck I just grabbed and carried out and stuck him in. They rode pretty well; Puck did meow a few times in Birmingham, I suspect as a result of the rough ride, and since I was also a bit vocal at the time I didn’t much blame him. I let them out when I got to the campsite (after blocking the footwell of the driver’s seat to make sure Puck didn’t get under the hood somehow), and both left the kennel fairly quickly. I thought Nell was adapting much faster than she did to the trailer, until I realized that she had crawled UNDER the fabric kennel in order to hide. She just doesn’t like the idea that people can see her and be all around her; she’s not secure yet. Puck is also a bit insecure, but not nearly as much—he’s much more of a “dog” than she is. Both ate and are using the litter boxes (one in the kennel, one in the passenger’s seat footwell) nicely.
Well, I’m going to go shower (not using mine yet, as I haven’t had a chance to sanitize the water system and I’m too damn tired to do it now—besides, I don’t much trust rural well water) and maybe see if I can get anything on the TV once I finish listening to NPR. Such civilization!
Hope all is well with y’all.
May 20—Perryburg, MO
I didn’t sleep all that well last night, I suspect for a couple of reasons. First, it had been a stressful day and I was still a bit wired. Also, it was the first night in the new rig, and I needed to get used to the new mattress (harder than my memory foam, and not completely level) and it smelled a bit of chemicals (I’m not sure if it was from the commercial dryer I had washed the linen in, or if the RV place had cleaned and/or Simonized the bed—the smell seemed to get better with time). I was also a bit worried about how the cats would react. Nell figured out how to get up to the overhead bunk: she hurled herself bodily from the dinette to the bed, a combination high/long jump. She was also smart enough to figure out that the way to get down was to jump onto the couch and not onto the hard floor or back onto the dinette. Puck took longer to figure this out; I woke up at 12:30 to pee (yay indoor toilet!) and he was curled up into a little ball on the couch—I’m wondering if he even knew I was still in the rig! He also didn’t really want to wake up, which worried me (y’all know me, I live to worry) so I poked him a few times to make sure he was awake. He then managed to clamber up to the bunk, going from the couch to a rolled sleeping bag I used as a cushion to the extra dinette cushion I have leaning against the bunk to the bunk itself. He also figured out how to get down; I was afraid that he’d jump somewhere other than the couch, but he didn’t. So I spent much of the rest of the night rearranging myself around Nell, who was under the covers (which served a double purpose: she kept warm (it got down to 55 inside the rig last night) and she can’t see out, which she likes when travelling as she’s still insecure) and Puck arranging himself around some portion of my anatomy. Ah well. I did sleep better toward the end of the night (which is always true—I also had some weird dreams: I don’t really know Adam Lambert, do I?) and woke up at the late (for me) time of 7am.
I wanted to get on the road rather quickly, so I fed the cats and then got everything together and left around 8am. I had to bribe Nell out of the bed with some of Puck’s uneaten food; she really wanted to stay under the covers, and if I weren’t afraid she might either get motion sick in my bed or decide to come out in the middle of a bad road section, I might have let her.
On the way back to the highway, I stopped at a Winn Dixie to buy some supplies, most notably Scott toilet paper (RV septics don’t like nice thick toilet paper—they like stuff that dissolves when it hits the water—but there’s no toilet paper holder in the bath!). I then picked up the stuff I hadn’t stowed properly (which was now all over the floor, including a pint or so of water—oops!) and continued on Highway 78.
Remember yesterday when I talked about Birmingham roads? I found something worse! Still in Alabama (I now know why there are churches everywhere here: people are so pleased at surviving the drive that they want to thank God IMMEDIATELY), on Highway 78: they were paving the right lane, so they had us all go into the left lane. Except we didn’t have the entire left lane; they had added a wee little paved shoulder to the left side, and the trucks and I were balanced precariously between hitting the dividing drums in the middle of our lane or going into the ditch (which, since it was really steep, I assumed would result in my rolling the RV). Add in the wind still blowing hard, and it was a lovely few miles of driving. White-knuckle, freaking out the whole way, lots of fun. I don’t know how much room I actually had on the right side, since I was afraid to look into my right-side mirror, but I was on the edge on the left. I hate Alabama roads, I really do. I did, however, make it without a problem (and it made me really glad I had bought myself a Pepsi!).
Around the Alabama/Mississippi border the Appalachian foothills that I’d been in since Birmingham vanished, and the land got quite flat and pretty much stayed that way (with the occasional rolling hill). I didn’t stop to see the Elvis stuff in Tupelo; it turned out to be a “just keep driving” day. Not much to see, really, though. I drove up Hwy 45 to Jackson, then 412 to I-155, then up I-55. The Mississippi is really high; lots of flooding in the low-lying fields around the river. I even saw a couple of cars trapped on a high place on a levee, with the road ahead and behind washed out (who knows for how long). My weather continues nice, sunny and warm (maybe too warm; I had to turn on the AC this afternoon after crossing the Mississippi, and while it did cool down the rig nicely (I was more worried about the cats than myself) it sure did hammer the mileage! I got nearly 19 mpg the second tank, but I doubt I’ll get anywhere near that this time), and the godforsaken wind may well have died down.
I’m in a campground between Cape Girardeau and Ste. Genevieve. It used to be a KOA, and like most it’s within sight of the interstate—in fact, I can see it from where I sit now at the dinette typing. Blah. But beggers can’t be choosers; I’m exhausted, there aren’t that many campgrounds around here, and I ain’t moving. Maybe I’ll just pretend that it’s white noise to help me sleep! I know I won’t go swimming; the pool is a rather unappetizing shade of green. And hopefully the guys who just got out their ATV will stop driving it around soon (they just ran it into a small swing set—never a dull moment!).
Monday, May 18, 2009
Not so fast!
I've decided to leave tomorrow instead of today, so that I can take my time and make sure that all the tasks I need to are finished properly instead of rushed. Also, I can be a bit calmer than I have been the past week or so. Besides, a front came through last night and now it's cold! Well, it's 62 degrees, but that feel quite cold, particularly with the wind. So I'm going to alternately relax (and hopefully finish "A Beautiful Mind") and pack the RV and clean. I may have to voluntarily put on a shirt with sleeves!
The cats, by the way, are both confused and active, which is an interesting combination. They've been chasing one another all over the place, and wanting attention and are HUNGRY! It must be the weather change, because all three of us woke up this morning more hungry than usual. I can't wait until I get north into weather like this all the time.
Tune in tomorrow for the actual trip!
The cats, by the way, are both confused and active, which is an interesting combination. They've been chasing one another all over the place, and wanting attention and are HUNGRY! It must be the weather change, because all three of us woke up this morning more hungry than usual. I can't wait until I get north into weather like this all the time.
Tune in tomorrow for the actual trip!
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