Date:                           September 27, 2006

Location:                    Gunnison, CO

2000

            We awoke this morning to a furnace running, frost on our car and a freezing temperature.  I think we made a wrong turn some place.  It was only 28 degrees when we got up this morning, but it was fun watching the outside temperature race to a respectable level before we actually ventured out of our home.  After a breakfast of soft boiled eggs and a flavored coffee the freezing cold of a mountain night had given way to the sun and warmth of a Rocky Mountain day.  It must be time to explore and the Black Canyon of the Gunnison.

            Our drive to the canyon was to be a trip through nature’s pallet of colors displayed along the Gunnison River and surrounding mountains and gorges.  US 50 winds over the high dessert plain and through the gorges that cut between the mountains of rock and ancient sea floor that makes up this geological wonder land.  The diverse formation of this area provides a real breath taking experience as you enjoy the ever changing scenery.  There is at one moment a panama of a harsh desolate valley surrounded by jagged stark rock heaps piled to the bright blue sky.  A turn in the road will then take you up and through the ravines between these giant geological formations deep slopping hill sides running to the river cutting a path through the earth.  The elevation causes the air to be a bit thinner and the sun to be enormously brighter.  It is from this perspective that we were to venture into Mother Nature’s paint pallet.  It is from this view that we would be able to fully appreciate the wonder of nature and the varied colors that adorn her.

            This area of Colorado is much more harsh and desert like than I expected.  The terrain is sand colored and basically a dark tan or beige colored.  The rocks that become the Rockies are grey and tinted with red and rouge hints that give this, nature’s easel, a pastel aura.  It is on this canvas that we were to see the effect of Mother Nature’s experiment in color.  The harsh dark greens of low growing brush looked like globs of paint placed on a painter’s pallet.  Along side this were bright yellows and gold that hung on the autumn birch and aspen trees.  From a close view these colors looked like piles of oil tints but as we viewed them from afar the colors seemed to start to blend.  Against a pastel beige would be a brush stroke of yellow or bright gold swiped across the dark clumps of black green vegetation.  It was as if the painter had mistakenly loaded is brush with the wrong color and decided to clean his brush by dragging it across his pallet.  This caused a mixing of the darks and bright hues as if they really did belong together.  On this canvas of muted earthen tones accentuated with neon autumn colors you must also remember that we could see on the horizon majestic snow capped mountains reaching into the bright blue clear heaven.  It was this pallet of pleasure that we drove through today on our way to Black Canyon.

            The phrase “Breath Taking” and “Beyond description” are so over used and under appreciated.  They are the easy way out when you try to describe the views we saw this day.  The simple description of beautiful and awe inspiring are other mundane attempts at trying to share the beauty we enjoyed.  The simple truth is that I can’t share the beauty we saw and that is a bummer.

            Our drive to the canyon was not the most awe inspiring event we were to see today.  It was but an opening act to another example of the wonder of nature and geology.  The Black Canyon is called that because it is so deep, narrow and sharply sloped that light does not reach it except for short times during the day.  Black Canyon is another geological wonder of the power and effect of water on mother earth.  Gunnison River which runs through the gorge drops faster and over a shorter distance than any other river anywhere else on this earth.  It is this extreme that makes this area one of the least inhabitable places on the earth.  There is almost no recorded human interaction in the Canyon’s history.  It is a place that no one has ever wanted to be and a place that most people can’t get.  It is also a place that will provide those “breath taking,” “awe inspiring,” and purely beautiful views that will enrich your soul.

            The walls of the gorge leading down some 2000 feet to the river below are a lesson slate in how our earth has been formed.  The molten rock intruding into the sedentary rock has caused the walls of Black Canyon to look like a marble cake.  It is these fissure of color streaking across the canyon walls that gave my lovely wife her marbleized impression of Black Canyon.  Mother Nature spent a lot of time working on her cake and Connie and I appreciated our chance to enjoy her culinary expertise.

            The drive through nature’s pallet was inspiring and beautiful.  The stroll along the rim of Black Canyon was filled with awe and majesty.  And yet, we have one more element that made this day nearly perfect.  We drove along and strolled along much of the south rim of Black Canyon, enjoying each viewing spot and each new vista from which to appreciate geology in all of its beauty.  This drive was to end at the high point in the park and at a small picnic area.  It was here among the grove of cedar trees that Connie and I enjoyed our picnic lunch.  In the background we had snow topped Rocky Mountains;  In the for ground we had pungent cedar trees shading our secluded lunch table;  Across from me I had the company of my wonderful wife; and for luncheon guest we had pinion jays, magpies and gross beaks.  Is this cool or what? 

Miles Traveled:          127 Exp

Date:                           September 26, 2006

Location:                    Gunnison, CO

1945

            Before I start my blog I must call you attention to the pictures in the upper right hand corner of this page.  Please take some time and take a view at some of our sojourn from home to Colorado.  I hope that you will enjoy and soon I will have some views of our time in Gunnison.

            My blog today started last night after I had completed and posted my offering for the day.  We were nestled in a small new campground at the eastern edge of the Rockies.  The campground was far enough from town so that when the sun finally hid behind the mountains it got dark.  It got real dark and very cool, but we were snuggled in our home and very happy.  My lovely wife decided that we should go for a stroll in the evening air and cool mountain breezes. This is not a bad idea; it is quite a fine idea.  She was in her PJs so she wisely wrapped herself in a blanket, slipped on her night slippers and beckoned me into the night.  The darkness of the cool night air took a few moments to adjust our sight abilities.  But when we finally looked toward the heaven we were treated with a sight that was truly awe inspiring.  The 5,000 feet of elevation made the air clear and the lack of light pollution made the skies shine with more stars than can be imagined.  The stars were bright enough to light the night like glistening diamonds on a display of black velvet.  It was truly a breath taking scene of beauty.

            Thinking that we had enjoyed our memorable moment in the Rockies Connie and I started up the beast and headed out this morning on our short days travel to the Blue Mesa. We knew that we were going to be going over a pass and head down the western side of the continental divide to our campground.  We were ready for an enjoyable drive, but we were not at all prepared for the scenes that awaited our visitation.  We started at a 5,000 foot level and were to cross Monarch Pass at over 11,000 feet.  This had not really settled in our minds, but was to be very evident in a very short time. 

            The views of the Rockies are really beyond the ability of my simple grasp of the English language.  They are beautiful, awe inspiring, breath taking, and a bunch of other over used adjectives.  They are all of these things and still it does not do them justice.  It is an exercise in futility to even attempt to describe the views that are ever changing as you drive up and through the mountains.  The first thing that you must understand is that we are talking about the Rockies and they are called that for a reason.  They are majestic jagged piles of very large rocks.  The sides of these huge rock edifices were covered millions of years ago with volcanic ash and as such do have some sparse signs of vegetation in the form of evergreen trees and scrub type brushes.  In the distance this gives these monuments of majesty a dark almost black look.  To silhouette this contrast of grey and red rocks covered with dark vegetation against a crystal clear blue sky is in deed a breath taking example of Mother Nature’s artistic ability.  As we ventured higher and further west we were to see this beauty punctuated by white snow covered peaks that came closer and closer as we climbed higher and higher.  The effect of being a mile and more above the pollution of man makes the light from the sun brighter, the color of the vegetation more crisp and the deepness of the blue sky unimaginable.  All of this multiplies one on the other to make the scenery explode form the horizons as you drive up, thought and over the Rocky Mountains. 

            I know that I am doing a major injustice to the real beauty that we saw today.  It is an experience that actually has to be lived to even begin to understand.  Words pale by comparison and pictures do not even capture the awesome majesty of nature’s beauty.  If you have even a slight imagination of what it is I am so weakly trying to explain I have one little caveat to add to the mural in your mind.  You must see the exaggerated pinnacles of stone climbing all around you with a winding road carving a path through them.  Along this road with towering muli-thousand foot mountains jaggedly pointing to the sky you must visualize a rushing turbulent stream running toward the plains below.  The sun glistening off the white foam caused as the water runs over the boulders in the shimmering green and blue water like jewels displayed in an elegant store display.  As you wind through the gorge you must also imagine pure white snow capped peaks reflecting a brilliant sun’s light through the clear crisp air of mile high atmosphere.  Then, as if this is not enough to literally take away your breath I ask that you dream of this scene with the touch of gold.  A touch of gold is applied by a giant brush of color that swipes across the sides of the mountains in bold strokes of accentuation.  The gold is from the autumn display of Aspen trees as they change from the dark green to a fiery, brilliant gold and yellow.  The colors are almost beyond explanation, and surely beyond human description.  There is a Rocky Mountain High and it has little to do with elevation or illegal substances. 

            During the pleasure of enjoying all of this beauty we were also climbing ever higher.  We went from just under 1 mile high to well over 2 miles high before we started our slow decent.  From our over 11,000 foot high point today we descended way down to 7800 feet.  Just incase you were wondering how high that is.  It is higher than most small planes fly.  It is nearly 1 and a half miles straight up.  It is also a way above all of the haze and pollution that has become so normal for most of us on a daily basis.  And yet just out our window we have peaks that still climb ever higher with the purest of bright snow accentuating their tops.  We started our day last night with an abundant display of diamonds in a night sky and traveled through the golden streaked peaks of snow covered mountains of rock reaching to grasp those diamonds during our day light drive.  John Denver was not all that imaginative when he described to us about his Rocky Mountain high.  He was simply fortunate enough to live where that high is a normal day.  There are so many places of beauty on this earth and in this country and today Connie and I were blessed with experiencing just one more of these glimpses into heaven.  Today we were truly on a crystal clear, white snow capped, golden aspen accentuated Rocky Mountain High and we have 2 more weeks.  Wish you were here and so should you.

Miles Traveled:          125      38

Date:                           September 24, 2006

Location:                    Garden City, KS

2050

            Depending on the state of your perspective, today could have been a boring day.  We left one small town in Kansas and drove through a long rolling area of the plains to another small town in Kansas.  The weather was clear and slight puffy clouds in the morning gave way to pure blue skies in the afternoon.  We choose to travel along a US route instead of our normal interstate routing.  This meant that we had a lot less traffic and when people waved at us today they used all of their fingers.  Today could have been considered a boring day.

            We did see the world’s largest grain elevator from tour window as we drove through Hutchinson, KS.  Not earth shaking, but a neat piece of Americana to be able to say you have seen.  We also drove to and walked around the world’s largest concrete municipal swimming pool in Garden City, KS.  We also watched the vista of America’s plains open up as we left Emporia and headed across the state.  We went from small farms and tree lined fields of corn and soybeans to acres of plowed fields that literally stretched form horizon to horizon under a blue sky that seemed to be almost too large to fit our earth.  We did get to see all of this and yet today could have been considered a boring day.

            It all depends on how and why you would want to take the roads that we took today.  If you objective is to get to your destination, then you will probably not want to ride with us.  Our goal is hardly ever to reach a destination.  Our goal is always to enjoy the journey. It is in the “getting” that the “there” earns its value.  The beauty of Turkey Red Wheat silhouetted against a bright blue crystal clear sky must be of more value than the sight of the RV Park sign at the end of a day to make a journey of greater pleasure than the sojourn’s completion.  A picture of a small house situated in the center of a never ending plain surrounded by a solitary grove of tress in an other wise sparsely vegetated vista makes the ride a continuing source of pleasure. It is the enjoyment of these scenes that make the journey worth more to us then the simple fact of counting the miles on our odometer.  Today could have been considered boring by some people, but neither by Connie nor me.

            We left Emporia and headed west on US 50.  We found this route to not only be a pleasure but also an adventure.  The road itself is in better shape and easier to drive on than most interstates.  A lot of the route is 4 lanes and all of it was a pleasure.  We did find a little more traffic than we expected, but in comparison to our normal daily travel, we were nearly alone.  This was not our excitement today, just a pleasure.  The scenery was picturesque and enjoyed on a day of nearly perfect weather, yet this was not our excitement today, again it was our enjoyment.  Passing our first choice campground and then missing our second choice of campgrounds gets a lot closer to exciting and a bit further from enjoyment.

            We had chosen a campground in Dodge City and figured it would be very easy to get to and at the end of a short driving day.  It was a good idea, a not so good exercise in driving and navigational skills.  We arrived in Dodge and followed the signs to the Gunsmoke Campground.  The last sign I saw said “just around the corner.”  The last think I heard was Connie saying, “No, this is not the right turn.”  The next thing I know we are headed to Cimarron and we did not even meet Wyatt Earp or Doc Holliday.  The drive way was hidden, and it was really just around the corner and we went right on by the very tight turn.  Oh well, the Santa Fe Trail lay ahead and it was early in the day.

            We followed some of the original Santa Fe Trail and enjoyed the addition to our planned mileage for the day.  The sun was still bright and the scenery was still awesome.  We were having too much fun trying to imagine the trials and tribulations of the pioneers in their prairie schooners as they traveled the trail before they paved it.  We could only imagine what the early settlers must have thought as they awoke to see flat plains stretch before them day after day.  The journey was still too much fun to fret the missing turn that should have marked the completion of our travel today.

            We still had a moment of memory to experience and it is not even 4 o’clock yet.  When we finally decided to stop in Garden City, KS I did not realize that we were  going to be staying at a campground that would allow us to be the community’s entertainment for a short part of the afternoon.  As we first approached the campground Connie was not real sure she wanted to stay there.  It is an old KOA and there is a lot more “old” than there is KOA in that description.  As Connie was saying “I don’t think I want to stay there.” I decided to keep driving on by the entrance.  This was a good idea, except for the fact that she changed her mind.  That is ok, except that I had already passed the drive way.  This is not a major big deal.  We just need to find a place to turn this train around now.  Aurora needs a city block and a half to turn around and I have this car attached to my butt.  We did find a very large empty parking lot and soon we were headed back east on our westward trip.

            This probably sounds like a good thing.  And it would have been if I had not missed the driveway on my return trip.  I actually did not miss it, I did not like the way it would have had me entering the campground so I went to the second entrance.  Sounds pretty good so far, but - - -  and there always is a “but.”  As I made my turn into the campground I found that the turn was just a bit sharper than Aurora likes to make.  That means that I could not turn sharp enough to make the entrance.  I did notice a street in front of me that went into the neighboring community.  To make a long story a bit shorter, Connie and I unhooked the car, backed up Aurora around a street light and went into the campground.  The small children in the neighborhood seem to enjoy our escapade and found a reason to leave the confines of their homes to venture out onto the porches and street curbs to watch these two grengos make noise and back a bus up and down the streets in front of their homes.

Date:                           September 23, 2006

Location:                    Emporia, KS

2000

            We started our day in a mist and ended up in Kansas.   I don’t think we passed Toto, but you never know who else is running through the mist with you.  Connie and I have been very lucky in the weather department.  There were tornadoes running through the area last night, but I guess they were eastern tornadoes.  They stayed on the east side of the Mississippi and left us alone.  A couple of the twisters made a mess near the town that Connie and I had lunch in yesterday, but I think the restaurant is still there if you happen to be driving through Clarksville, MO.  Our weather radio kept shouting out alarms about tornadoes in Pike County.  We were in Pike County.  We were in Pike County in Missouri, and the storms were in the county across the river in Pike County Illinois.  Like I said, we have been quite lucky in the weather department.

            Our departure in the mist and fog of a post stormy evening was boring and simple right up to the time we reached the highway.  Our little trek through the campground went well and Aurora seemed to fit down the old narrow lanes snugly.  It was when we reached the highway that things got a bit fun.  We had to make a 180 degree turn from a side road onto a major highway.  This is not a big deal in a small rig: it is a big pain in the ass in our rig.  Connie and I had discussed the possibility of not being able to make the turn, and I had been a typical man and said that I knew we could.  Well, Connie 1 manhood zippo.  Aurora and her long wheel base with the short turning radius did not seem to want to make the turn.  Now this could be a big problem.  I could have kept going and jack knifed the rig and car right in the middle of a 4 lane super highway.  Remember I said we could make the turn so, of course, the car was hooked to the back of our rig.  I could have backed up traffic for hours as I tried to extricate us from the mess I could have gotten us into.  I could have made the turn, maybe.  I don’t think so, but maybe.  I could have had Connie telling me “I told you so” for years.  I decided to opt for the chicken’s way out and as I saw we might not make the 180 degree turn I quickly made the turn a 90 degree turn and went across the 4 lanes and headed in the wrong direction.  A short way down the road there was a turn around and we were on our way with little fanfare.  Discretion is often the better part of valor and always the best way to drive one of these beasts.

            The rest of our trip was much less eventful.  We actually drove out of the fog and mist and had a bright day of sun to punctuate our last day in Missouri and our first day in Kansas.  As the mist lifted the clouds broke up and left just enough white dots in the bright blue heaven to accentuate the contrasting colors of the sky and the rolling plains in front of us.  I am not sure if it was the clean air that follows storms or if the sun was just a bit brighter today, but the travel video playing on my windshield was especially dramatic.  I am not sure that the colors were sharper or that the sky was brighter, or that the clouds were more dramatic.  I am sure that the drive to day was pretty and there are scenes in my memory that will remain there for a long time.

Date:                           September 22, 2006

Location:                    New London, MO

1630

            We had an appointment to visit the small riverside town of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn today.  Hannibal, MO has an area at one end of town near the Mississippi River that is built around the original home of Samuel Clemens.  Across the street from the home of Mark Twain is the home of Laura Hawkins who was the inspiration for Becky Thatcher and just down the street is a reproduction of the house that belonged to Tom Blankenship and it is built on the same site as the original house was when it was the inspiration for Huck Finn.  Visiting this area was truly like taking a walk through the novels of Mark Twain.  We could stand in the boyhood bedroom of Samuel Clemens and see the river rolling by that was of such an influence to him and his writings.

            I am beginning to find that authors with imaginative skill do not necessarily make things up.  I believe that they just store their experiences in easily accessible snippets and do not worry about context as they borrow them to flavor whatever prose they are working on at the time.  Sam Clemens said it best when he stated, and I paraphrase, No one has ever lived a boring life it need only to be told by a good story teller.  Mark Twain was a good story teller and he dealt with the true life of a small boy that grew up along the Mississippi River in a time when people were poor but did not think to care about it.

            As we strolled through the homes on display at Sam Clemens historical site we were carefully transported to the pages of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.  This is the job of these sites. It was as we looked out the windows and walked the true life streets of Hannibal that we were really impressed with the feeling of being on a stroll through literature.  The time frame has changed, but still we were in a small struggling town on the banks of a mighty river.  It did not take a large imagination to visualize a young rag a muffin of a boy skipping school and running down to the river for some fishing or maybe even a raft ride out to one of the islands just off shore.  Tom, Huck and Becky certainly did grow up in this town and Sam Clemens ala Mark Twain did a masterful job of telling their story.

            With our trip to Tom Sawyer’s life over Connie and I had nearly half a day to find new adventures.  We decided against spending the afternoon trying to find a WiFi spot for our internet fix.  As you may have noticed, or not, my blogs is a bit late.  This is because we are in an “Extended Area” and not a Verizon data area.  What all of this means is boring and not worth time.  It does mean that I will need to upload a couple of days of my story when we do return to civilization.  You may be able to get broadband in a hot tub in Vegas, but in Hannibal, MO you get squat.

            Connie and I decided to drive along the Mississippi and to see what Old Man River could show us.  What we found was a pleasure and trip through travel brochures.  Route 79 offers parks and overlook views that give you a just a taste of beauty along the Missouri side of the Mississippi River.  From the elevated escarpments of the western side of the Mississippi it appears that the farm lands of Illinois go on forever to the farthest horizon in the east.  Between these to two extremes is a winding wide highway of water dotted with islands and busy with barges and tug boats carrying the commerce of America from the farm lands to the people.  It was from these promontory points that Connie and I enjoyed our afternoon of playing in the back country of Missouri.

            It was also from one of these overlooks that we drove to a small town that appeared to be little more than a bump on the 2 lane county road we were exploring.  In this little village of Clarksville we found a restaurant that overlooked the river and offered a lunch menu that appeared to be quite pleasant.  As we entered the establishment we were over run by an exodus of geriatrics headed back to their retirement home.  That indicates two things.  One is that the food must be pretty good and at a decent price and a second thing is that I may be soon hobbling out to the little bus/van to return to my retirement home.  The food was all that good and then some and the price was not overly extreme.  Connie and I both ordered the chicken fried steak and one serving was enough to serve a small family.  I managed to eat all of mine, but Connie was much better and now has another lunch to eat in the near future.

Date:                           September 21, 2006

Location:                    New London, MO

1715

            The RV Parque (yes, that is how they spell it) in East St. Louis was adequate if not excellent.  We had driven nearly 500 miles and what we needed most was a place to sleep and get off the road.  This campground offered both those things, even if it did not seem to offer much more.  Maybe if we had visited during the normal summer season we might have been a bit more impressed, but I doubt it.  As we were leaving this morning I was stopped in front of the small store to hook up our car.  Some Red Necked A- - H--- was also leaving, or so it seemed.  He pulled up behind me and nearly ran over our car and me to get around me and head out to the larger parking lot where he turned around and came back into the campground.  It is this kind of idiot that seem to symbolize this place.  Maybe it was just me, but I did not get a real warm fuzzy feeling being here. I did wave at the simpleton as he roared past me while I was bent over fastening the car hitch.  I motioned, to him, that I thought he was a number 1 type of a person.

            Connie and I had more important things to do today, so we decided not to stay and discuss how wonderful I thought this gentleman’s patience and consideration was.  I figure her could not even say those words, much less understand them.  We had places to go and things to do so we headed on our way.  We are about 4 days of casual driving from our western destination so we headed out of the campground and turned due north.  Our destination is west, but Hannibal is north and we have never been to Hannibal. MO.

            Growing up near Elmira and the plethora of Mark Twain memorabilia has kept Hannibal, MO on my “To Visit” list but it never seemed to be on my route list.  Today it was not on my itinerary, but it was on our mind so we made a slight detour north.  To some it may have been considered a 100 miles out of our way.  To Connie and me it was exactly on our way and only a hundred miles to travel today.  When you are a full timer, everything is on your way, because your way is what you make it.  We headed west on Interstate 70 and took a turn north to Hannibal and a trip into the literature of Mark Twain.

            Hannibal is a typical river town that shows signs of a time long past.  It is struggling like so many small towns in this country, but it does have the hint of tourist attraction and visitor money being invested in areas of the city.  There are beautiful parks and statures to catch the eye of Mark Twain fans, but there are also blighted areas of economic down turn.  As it is in so much of this country, if you are doing well you are doing very well, but if you are not doing well it seems no one cares.

            We played Q-Tag in Hannibal.  This means that we would put a destination in Sakee and then head in that general direction with numerous detours along the way.  We found Lover’s Leap, Cardiff Light House, and River Front Park.  We also found a soda fountain where we ordered a single chocolate soda with 2 straws and I enjoyed my first soda with my own Becky Thatcher.  Hannibal is that kind of town where within a few steps you feel like you are in a Mark Twain novel.  There are not as many river boats traveling up and down the Mississippi today, but as you stand on the landing over looking the mighty river you can almost hear a river boat pilot yell out, “Mark, mark twain.”

Date:                           September 20, 2006

Location:                    East St. Louis, IL

2030 (cst)

            Connie and I were up and ready to explore early this morning.  I am not sure if it was the excitement of finding new adventures, or the effect of finding out a friend has cancer, or anyone of a dozen other things in the news that can cause a person to loose sleep.  Maybe it was a collection of all of the above.  The reason be darned, it was early and we were wide awake.  A cup of coffee later and we are ready to hit the road.  Our leaving this campground was not nearly as exciting as we had feared.  Aurora was a good little girl and after waking most of the other campers with her noisy diesel we were ready to pull out.  Connie walked me through the obstacle course we needed to meander through to extricate our selves from our site and we headed down the twisting rural road to the highway.

            The trauma curve seemed a lot less traumatic this morning, but then I was the only one turning around it and there was no truck hauling a mobile home frame coming at me from the other direction.  Connie and I had decided earlier to meet at a parking lot near the highway to hook up the car just incase I needed to back up or do some other fancy maneuver with Aurora.  There was no need for weird maneuvers and after a quick connect we were on I-70 headed west.  Traffic was quite light and the drive was very pleasant.  It was the kind of day that I set the cruise control and then sit back and enjoy the travel video playing in front of me on the windshield.  Aurora is pretty easy to drive most days, especially on the interstate highways.  Except for the grey clouds in the sky this was becoming a pretty nice day.

            Have you ever wanted to know what those people are talking about in those big RVs that pass you on the highway?  We talk about the weather and try to encourage it to improve.  We talk about the news and yell at the clouds for being there, both in the news and in the weather.  We also talk about the traffic and how wonderful it is to share the road with so many patient and courteous drivers.  Sometimes we do exercises, especially the single finger type as we wave at those courteous drivers.  Connie was complementing me on my ability to get Aurora though the narrow construction sites and the 6 and 8 lane traffic in some cities.  She said that she did not know how I did it.  That she would be so scared that she would just close her eyes and pray.   I told her that is exactly what I do.

            After 9 hours and just less than 500 miles we are now just outside of St. Louis in a not so special campground.  We had planned on staying at the Casino Queen RV Park just under the arch.  I was sure there would be a site so I told Connie not to bother to call.  She, of course, did not listen to me and called anyways.  Guess what.  The stupid place was full and we are now in Cahokia RV Parque or something like that.  Cell phones are wonderful, and wives are smarter than husbands.  We could have been in downtown St. Louis trying to find a way out with our bus towing a little maroon car behind it.  We could have, but my wife is smarter than I am and we she called ahead to verify availability.

            I have promised Heidi a picture of the sunset and I thought having the sun set behind the arch in ST, Louis was a great idea.  Well, we did have a sun set, someplace behind those trees and a few miles away the arch is, I believe, there.  But, all of the elements did not come together tonight, again.  I think the sun sat, it is dark.  I guess I still owe her a picture.  Watch this segue!  I have, if you are interested, uploaded some pictures of our trip so far, lacking a sunset.  They should be in the upper right corner of this page and are in the “Photo Album” called “Travel West 2006.  Please enjoy and keep checking them.  They might even contain a picture of the sunset someday.

Date:                           September 18, 2006

Location:                    Zanesville, OH

1720

            As Connie and I start our real trip and head out to explore the USA I have decided that I must set some new rules to my daily blog.  I am sure that every one or two of you that are reading these meandering diatribes can hardly wait to arise each morning and read about my adventurous life.  This is a good thing, only now I am going to be writing them in the evening and posting them, if I have internet access, when I have finished.  I may get to pontificate a bit in the morning, but I hope to be able to complete an entry each evening prior to putting my little head to bed.  I know that most don’t care a whit about what I just said, but when I read these later I need to know my new rules.  Yes, I do read these later.  How else would I be able to carry on a conversation next summer when you ask me about some adventure I wrote about in January but, due to my “old timers” illness,  I have forgotten about in May.

            Connie and I said our final good bye to our family this morning and really headed west.  We were lucky enough to spend our last night in New York this year in North Collins.  It is a very bitter sweet moment when you finally do crank up the beast and point her to new horizons.  The anticipation of new adventures and experiences is always on your mind, but still good byes are not fun.  But, with hugs, kisses, and an empty driveway we started up Aurora and loudly left the neighborhood.  Heidi’s next door neighbor asked if we had room for 2 more passengers.  I think if we had had that room we would have already had volunteers to fill the seats.  It is just my buddy and me for the next 7 months or so.  The extra passengers will have to be carried in our hearts and thoughts, because our rig entertains 6, feeds 4, but only sleeps 2.

            Our extra day in New York allowed us to go and inspect our new proposed home location on the Estate of the Kibler’s.  Our little piece of their rolling estate is taking shape and looking like a neat place to spend a few moments or days.  By the time we return next spring there should be a driveway and maybe even a spot to park our home.  While we were visiting Bob took us on a stroll through the woods and placed some decorations.  I am not sure that he will ever be a top flight decorator.  The woods are comforting and possess their own beauty, but Bob thought that it needed just a touch of accentuating color.  To accomplish this he tacked up some yellow sheets that he had stapled to a square piece of board.  I guess that from his prerogative the woods needed a touch of warmth.  But, I must admit that I think having the sign say “POSTED” and “KEEP OFF” did seem to me to be a bit inhospitable and not very friendly.  But I guess if you own the land you have a right to tell people to quit screwing up your land.  I think that I am allowed to visit, or why else would he go to all of the trouble of making me a special spot.

            While we were trekking through the woods, Bob’s mother tracked us down and invited us to dinner.  How she found us in the middle of the woods I will never know.  I guess it is one of those mother things.  Our dinner was great and we were there to welcome Bob’s dad home from a hunting trip in Utah.  I am not sure we all were needed to welcome him home but it was neat to meet his hunting companions and to see the elk antlers from the one elk that they got on their trip.  I am not sure I understand the rationale of driving 1800 miles one way to get one elk and then drive 1800 miles make to brag about your success.  But then I am not a hunter.  The men that went with Bob’s dad all seemed to be quite pleased and happy with their experience.  They were happy, but also a bit exhausted.  1800 miles in 2 days is a long ways to travel.

            Connie and I traveled a full 310 miles today and we are quite tired and ready for a rest.  As I sit here and finish my daily entry I am being lulled to restville by the pitter patter of rain.  If I had more energy I would tell you about our ride to the campground from the interstate.  I would tell you about the tight curve we had to negotiate with our 8 and a half foot wide RV that is 40 feet long with a car hooked on the back making us some 55 or 60 feet long.  I would tell you that just as we started to round this tight back roads narrow curve how much not fun it was to meet a truck hauling a bed of a 14 foot wide mobile home.  I would tell you how tight my shorts got, and how close I managed to get to the bushes on the right side of the road and still not go in the ditch. I would tell you all of this, but then what would we talk about next summer?  We are all safe and after almost 3 hours I think Connie is almost ready to try breathing again.  If you are ever on a country road and you approach a very tight curve, take it very carefully.  You never know who or what is waiting on the other side of the curve to make your day unforgettable.

Date:                           September 17, 2006

Location:                    East Aurora, New York

0730

            When you wake up in the middle of a fireman’s field and realize that this is where you are going to spend the day, you might get a bit depressed.  You might think that this is no place to find entertainment and social interaction. You might think that this is going to be a king size boring day.  You might be wrong.

            Connie and I are attending our last LKK rally of the year.  We are in the middle, or should I say on the road that surrounds the middle, of the fireman’s field in East Aurora. Boredom is not one of the emotions that have ever entered our minds sense we arrived on Friday afternoon. We are joined by 14 other Newmar owners and if that is not enough to keep you entertained, than you need a new hobby.  Our day started with our morning coffee gathering with a provided breakfast.  Eating is a big thing at a rally, and this rally is doing a fine job of living up to that challenge.  Neither Connie nor I sampled the home cooked oatmeal, but the people that did were very happy.  We did, however, visit the bagel counter and enjoyed that trip immensely.  They had strawberry cream cheese and I was very happy.  For some reason Connie just toasted her blueberry bagel and put that boring butter on it.  To each his own, I say, and my own had cream cheese.

            After the feeding we had our last of the year klub meeting.  That means that we try to line up rallies for next year and elect officers for the coming year’s rally season.  I could expound for a page or two on the difficulty in fnding a rally host at times, but it is also wonderful how some people will step forward and host a fantastic rally like the one we are now attending.  When we had finished our Klub business our state director took over the meeting and we held our officer elections.  It was a hard fought battle of politics and campaigning, but the same people that served last year were reelected.  Actually the same people that have served for the last 7 years are still in office.  The Secretary and Treasure have held that office for now 10 years. That is the life span of this klub.  Many of the people there praised our Secretary/Treasure team for their many years of service and profoundly wonderful way in which they have done their jobs.  The life and growth of the Klub was placed entirely on their shoulders and they were highly praised for gargantuan response to that responsibility and how they have so effectively handled the pressure.  By the way, did I mention that Connie is the Secretary and that I keep the treasures books for our klub.

            The afternoon was spent shopping for the girls and world problem solving for the men.  I think that the women were more successful on their task than were we gentlemen.  I feel that most of the problems of the worlds still exist.  But, I know that my wife returned with a couple of bags of neat surprises to show me.  I am not sure where the clock handler was all day, but it seemed that soon the time had been exhausted and the morning and afternoon had disappeared.  It is so true that when you are spending time with friends you always spend too freely because before you know it you have spent all of the time available and the day has run in to evening.

            Our dinner was also provided by the rally host.  I told you some times an energetic couple or two will step forward and host a fantastic rally.  Our dinner was a bit different, but only a bit.  The food was great, the company was warm but our plans were changed as we entered the dinning hall. Connie and I entered with the two couple we had decided to enjoy dinner with and with whom we were planning on sitting.  When we placed our table service down we were told to not sit down because there would be assigned seating.   After names were drawn form a hat we were positioned next to other friends, just not the friends we were expecting.  It is a neat way to spread out those little clicks that we call comfort zones.  It also gives everyone a chance to talk with everyone.  Isn’t that really why we come to these rallies?  Like I said it was a great dinner with just a little twist.  Little did I realize that this was not to be the last twist of the evening.

            After dinner we were all ready to have our dessert.  We found that before we could enjoy our home baked cakes we had to help some farmer find all of his eggs.  Some evil chicken feign had hidden all of his eggs in the field next to the dinning hall and he requested that we aid him in finding them.  This is not a daunting task.  We all had just eaten a bit more than we needed and a little stroll in the evening air was quite a decent idea.  If we happened upon an egg so be it.  Well there was just a little twist, of course.  We were instructed to form teams and this little hunt was going to be a contest.  Still  not too over the hill.  We, of course, could not form our own teams, the team members were to be drawn from that same hat that our dinner companions were selected.  This is till not too far over the hill and quite doable.  But there were two or three more little twist that kind of took us to the land of Looney Tunes.  Our teams were named after animals, often found on a farm, and only our team captain could touch the egg.  That means that the team member would find the egg and then have to call his captain to quickly come and retrieve the egg so that at the end of the hunt we could try to have collected the largest quantity of eggs.  A bit crazy and silly for adults but it was, again, doable and it was a nice evening for a stroll in the playground prior to our cake.

            I may have forgotten to mention one little direction we were given prior to our sojourn to the egg field for our hunt.  We could only talk in the language of the animal that symbolized our team.  Yes, we all bray like donkeys, bark like dogs, meow like a cat or moo like a cow and make a whole lot of other noises that I can not even begin to describe.  Now you must close your eyes and try to imagine some 30 or more geriatric owners of high end motor homes running around a field making the most obnoxious noises known to man.  Have you ever heard a cow try to moo while they were hysterically laughing at a donkey in grey hair jumping up and down pointing at the ground braying like some one had just set fire to his tail?  This evening was a sight that could cause nightmares for any normal person for years.  Needless to say, we all had a ball and found that being a child again is really fun and enjoyable.  I am so very glad that no one had a movie camera, because if there had been one I am sure the video would soon be on AFV and America would be having collective nightmares for years.

            By the way I was a cat and Connie was a dog, but we are still friends and the reason that the dogs found more eggs is that I think one of them was a bloodhound or a hunting beagle.  We cats are too proud to act all that foolish.  You should have seen the cows and the crows, what crazy animals.

            With our excursion into the land of weird animals complete we had our cake and the evening schedule was over.  The little twist here was that no one wanted to leave.  Little conversations sprang up all around the room and people mingled and traveled from one group to another to catch up on summer stories and to check on what might be ahead for each other.  It is fun to have a great meal and it is energizing to act like a chicken or a cow or a dog or just a fool, but mainly it is wonderful to be with friends.  Our Lakers Klub is filled with more than just friends.  It is made up of people that have become family and each month during the summer when we meet it is like a reunion.  It is like a family reunion where all of the family gets along, at least most of the family, most of the time.  I know that this rally will end soon and we all will head to our winter adventures in every corner of the country.  But, soon it will be summer again and we all will meet in another field with more food and, I am sure, more silly games to play.  But the main pleasure of this life style is that we will all have new stories to share, new adventures to amuse each other with and another year to enjoy our Newmar family.

            Connie says, “Woof” and I will sign off with a soft, “Meow.”

Date:                           September 14, 2006

Location:                    Bath, New York

0950

            The pleasure of Mother Nature’s constant threat and deliverance of rain has allowed Connie and I to spend at least one more day in wet downtown Bath.  We could see no major advantage to driving to a wet fireman’s field when we could sit right in our own field and watch the water fall from the sky just as easily.  It also allowed us to more casually prepare for our winter sojourn.  It provided Connie a chance to cook me a great meal, and that is always good thing.  Being in a 40 foot box does not mean that you are allowed to forget your cooking skills.  Last night Connie proved that and I am much the happier for it.

            Our leisurely preparation allowed time for Connie to visit the local hair factory and have her tresses trimmed.  As a, somewhat, normal husband I was not aware that she needed a hair cut, but then her hair is not down to her waist yet.  Between you and me and the rest of the world I do not think it ever will be.  After Connie’s visit to Hair Cuts are Us she ventured into her den of frustration and displeasure.  Yes, it was laundry day again.  The good news is that it may well be the last time she has to visit this Laundromat this year.  That happy thought did not seem to find an enormous amount of pleasure in her mind.  If it were not for the nakedness I think she would love a nudist camp.  At least there would not be any need for a Laundromat.

            After her foray into the jaws of hell known as the Bath Laundromat Connie had a little food shopping to accomplish and another trip down fun lane to enjoy.  Visiting the local grocery store of over priced food items is not one of her favorite past times either.  Except for the visit to Emilie’s Hair Removal service Connie was not having a very fun day.  But it was a day and these chores had to be done.  Putting our departure a day further out made these chores a bit less stressful, but I don’t think it made them a whole lot more fun.  It was late afternoon before she returned.  She was shorter of hair, although it really did not look too bad.  It may have even look pretty good.  Our clothes are now clean and she was ready to venture into the pleasure of preparing me a dinner.  Is her day getting better?  Mine is headed in the right direction.  I have done little to make my day terribly stressful.  Actually I have done little period.  I am now subjected to the aromas of a home cooked meal and the anticipation of fresh biscuits with chicken a-la king.

            When Connie realized that she was missing a couple items for her dinner I wisely decided that maybe she had traveled into Bath and the dastardly grocery store enough for one day and I volunteered to make the emergency food run.  I have been a husband long enough to know a thing or two.  Being spoiled is one thing, being stupid is unforgivable.  I wisely pulled my lazy butt from my comfortable chair and drove into Bath to procure the couple of items needed for dinner and cookies.  The only slightly negative aspect of this chore is that I arrived at Tops just seven minutes after every other geriatric, dim witted, citizen of Bath.  There I stand with less than 2 dollars worth of groceries and the line is 3 miles long to get to the express cash register.  Sometimes you get the bear and sometimes the bear gets to the store just before you.

            It would not have been so bad except that everyone seemed to be a half hour late to their own baptism and they had totally forgotten their manners when they sprinted from the parking lot into the store.  I patiently waited behind a line of 3 hundred slobs to pay for my 2 items.  I was standing in the express line which has a lighted sign stating “7 items or Less.”  Needless to say everyone had 33 items or more and they all had to pay with a check.  Now this meant that the cashier would ring up the multiple items, spend an inordinate time talking about global warming or something and then light the sign for the manager to come over and ok the check that I am sure was about to bounce as high as the boring ceiling.  This process was to be repeated for each and every customer, most of whom were either in an electric cart that did not fit down the candy laden lane or mentally in another universe.  One aged gentleman nearly ran me over with his cart trying to squeeze ahead of me to pay for his 4 cans of soup.  I guess he was really hungry, because there could be no other excuse for the total lack of manners he exhibited.

            I practiced my Zen meditation on calm and patience and made it through the check out line with some of my sanity.  At sometime during this long frustrating back up of customers the genius that runs the store decided that it might be a good thing to open another line or 3.  They don’t send these people away to training for nothing.  Eventually the 1 or 2 open lanes of cash receptors became 10 or so and I made it through the experience with grocery bag and hand full of change from my 2 dollar bill in hand.  Shopping is such fun.  Maybe Connie has legitimate reason for not enjoying these sojourns to hell.  The girl did smile and wish me a good day as I departed.  That poor thing still had a mile long line of non smiling faces still to confront.

            By the way, the dinner was excellent, the evening was better and I may not have to visit Tops again for the rest of the year.  Through every crowded, slow moving, lethargic grocery line there is a silver lining.

Date:                           September 13, 2006

Location:                    Bath, New York

1015

            It is a blustery wet day of grey fog and the mood felt by all is mimicking the weather.  I have always wanted to start an entry like that.  It feels like the start of a novel, or at least a novel as it might appear in Peanuts and authored by Snoopy.  It is also a rather accurate description of the weather that is appearing right out our window.  I am not so sure it is truly reflective of the mood inside our home, but it is dramatic.  I think Snoopy would be proud.

            The grey funk of a New York fall morning caused Connie and I to reevaluate of daily plans yesterday.  I a not sure we had anything serious to accomplish.  Most of the chores around here are complete and we are quite ready to make this a real travel journal.  We still did not want to sit in our rig and watch the bright clouds of portending wetness become a blanket of grey depression.  A rainy day can be enjoyable if you have a good book and warm thoughts.  We do have all of these, but we did not choose to draw on them this early in the year.  Instead we decided to go shopping.  This is a second avenue of attack to dispel weather gloominess.  Connie needed some new jeans I needed to get outside.  It was a perfect match for a day of shopping.

            We did not want to expend our whole fuel budget in one day, so opted not to go to the outlet mall in Geneva and decided to go to the normal mall in Elmira instead.  In Elmira we had more choices and a Target store to explore.  It was also the home of Old Country Buffet and as full time RVers that is always a drawing encouragement.  You can have nearly anything you want to eat as long as it is chicken, fish or some other meat dish that it may be better to not know its recipe.  There are many side dishes to fill your plate with calories and you can go back as often as you like.  A lunch of respectable taste, your drink with multiple refills, and the best soft ice cream in the area is a good reason to go to the Old Country Buffet as often as you can.  And, today we could with a bit less of a guilty conscience because we did have some real shopping to accomplish.

            Our lunch was very adequate, and yes I did have ice cream.  I did not, however, make a worn path to the buffet serving counter.  I am getting better at walking into the dens of temptation and not having to be rolled out.  Connie was her normal good self.  Although she did have a chocolate cake smothered with ice cream and chocolate syrup for dessert.  We all have our weaknesses.  For a bit less than $15 plus tax we had a very good lunch and delicious soft ice cream, is this a good thing or am I having my evaluation mind clouded by that taco stuffed baked potato I invented as I strolled the buffet line?

            After lunch we ventured into the new Target store looking for a pair of jeans for my wife.  Yes, she does wear jeans.  She wears them so often that her old pair is now relegated the NOMADS side of the closet.  Target is a bright new well stocked store.  It is also some what more expensive than I had imagined.  It also did not have a thing that we were looking to buy.  I am sure that for some people it is a great place to shop. For me, it is the second time I have been there and I have still not been able to place it on my list of places that has exactly what I want when I want it.  Maybe it is me, and maybe it is just going to be one of the stores that I pass on my way to someplace that carries what I want.  By the way, Best Buy is right next door.

            After a stroll through the brightly lit aisle we decided that not only did it not have what we wanted, they were charging too much for it.  We exited the Target trap of brightly lit, over priced, inadequate supply of stuff and headed for our car.  Where were we to go now?  The mall is just across the highway and it has a couple of rather large stores that usually don’t have what we want either.  Wal-Mart is just known the street and they never have any clothes that please my wife.  And, of course the outlet mall is just 40 or so miles up the valley.  That is north up the valley after we drove south in the same valley to save fuel.

            I won’t belabor the moment.  Connie and I had a lovely drive north from Elmira to Watkins Glen and then along Seneca Lake to Geneva.  It was not a beautiful day as far as the weather, but we had not taken this drive in some time and we do so enjoy the beauty that is upstate New York in the Finger Lakes region.  We had not been on some of these roads in years and I am sure it was about time we revisited them.  We may not need to be reminded of the pure beauty of Mother Nature and how she has carved out this area.  Exhibiting pristine lakes silhouetted against ice age remnants of tree covered hills and the field after field of grapes growing on row after row of trellises, but it is a pleasure to experience it.  It was  a pleasant and beautiful ride, all be it not he most efficient and economical means to find a pair of jeans.  Yes, Connie did find exactly what she wanted.

            We went out to lunch, we traveled the length of one of the Finger Lakes Valleys, we crossed over two others valleys and we found the items we originally went shopping to acquire.  It was a good day.  The economy of the day will soon be forgotten, but the memory of it will be stored in our file for a long time.

Date:                           September 11, 2006

Location:                    Bath, New York

0910

            The obligatory opening for a journal entry today is to say that I, of course, remember where I was at this moment on this day five years ago.  I do not need a covey of soup selling costumed performers masquerading as news reports to remind me.  Nor do I need to be dragged emotionally back to the shock and trauma that day represents.  I do have my own memories, emotions and sickening recollections of that morning and the seconds that have followed.  There is no doubt in my mind that it was on that day that the rest of the history of this country was begun. 

            I have on my wrist a band of silver that marks that day in history and it has been on my arm from the moment that it was presented to me in New York City as Connie I were serving our first disaster dispatch.  That band of silver is of such a symbolic value to me that I have and will never remove it from my person for any length of time.  I can still see the tears and emotion in the eyes of the Special Forces Colonel that presented it to me out of pure gratitude for responding in the face of danger and unknown consequences.  I can still hear and feel the muffled sobs of the other team members as they received their small box containing the one of a kind specially designed silver bracelet which, I am sure is as valuable to them as mine is to me.  I can still feel the emotion that was festering in my soul as I placed that symbolic shackle on my wrist.  I was realizing that after 50 plus years as a citizen of this country that the freedom, to which I had grown so accustomed, was, at this juncture in my life, to be changed forever.  It was to forever never to be taken for granted and probably never to be as free.  This silver band of remembrance was to be symbolic of the shackles of tyranny that had been thrown over this country on September 11^th in the year 2001.

             I had promised myself that I would not spend my time this morning retelling the story of 9-11.  I had promised myself that I would not pontificate on my political opinions on the aftermath of this traumatic first attack of World War III.   I had promised, but I feel I have failed.  I will not bore you with my political opinions.  I am quite sure most people either already know them or do not want to know them.  There is enough anger and hurt attached with this day that I do not need to tweak your ire.  We can all agree that on this day five years ago the next chapter of American history was begun.  It will be up to more intelligent historians to appraise the steps we have taken and the value of the decision that have directed those events.  As has been previously said by smarter people than I, “Truth is the first causality of war.”

            I must opine a moment on the perceived necessity of our “news” media, and I use that term very loosely, to remind us about a moment in our history that I am sure not a single person has forgotten.  I can still, in the cinema of my mind, replay the whole day from the time I received the call from our daughter to turn on the TV until Connie and I were riding a bus on the way back form New York City some weeks later.  I can still smell the devastation of that disaster as I stepped out of our work center / hotel in New York City.  And I do mean literally smell the destruction and burning human remains from some 10 miles away and at the very end of the Island of Manhattan as we stood on Times Square.  I do not need a made-up, artificially costumed, hair quaffed clown on a soup selling network to remind me of those etched memories of horror.  A moment of this magnitude and devastation does not leave a persons soul.  It remains and becomes the catalyst or part of the determining factors in everything, and every decision made form that moment.  I have my own horror and devastation of 3 weeks and 30 plus years prior to that day that still is present in my heart.  A moment that can and is often replayed as if it were still happening, now nearly 40 years past.  I do not need a commercially interrupted scripted play to force me into the depression needed to relive that hell.  I will not need that to relive the hell of 5 years ago either.

            Today will end, and we will all awake tomorrow with new goals and chores to achieve and accomplish.  We may put our memory of this day on a side burner and not make it the directing element of each step, but it will remain as a factor in our lives forever.  We may, at any given moment, feel sad, we may feel angry, and we may feel helpless, but we will feel.  The history of our country and the future of our children and grandchildren is being written moment by moment as we grow from the devastation and destruction that has been called ground zero.  We will take this momentary visit to hell and on it build the future of all that is important to us.  We will not forget, nor should we ever.  I will still look at my right wrist and see the shackles of lost freedoms that I feel were thrust upon our country that day.  Thrust on the citizens not only by the maniacs that flew plane loads of innocent people into history and hell, but also by the administration of our government that has so failed us second by second and day by day for 5 very long years as of the date of this writing.