October 18th through November 30, 2016 Minnesota, South Dakota, Iowa, Missouri, Alabama, Texas

As we roll towards the Canadian exit, cold rain and wind nipping at our heels, weather contributing to the demise of the leaves also brought on the termination of my pleasant persona. Rain, cold and nasty roads habitually cause my disposition to resemble Oscar The Grouch. The inclement weather and overcast skies have stalked us for several days but will soon dissipate, if one believes the local weatherman.

Crossing the border into the United States, winter wains as we skirt the US side of Lake Superior and the Superior National Forest.

US Fall colors

Fall is still in full colors, to my delight, on the United States side of the lake. Appreciative of the scenic beauty and the vivid swirls of blue rotating on Lake Superior the combination brightening my mood.

US side of Lake Superior

Looming ahead is route 17, across Minnesota, horrid, rough and pitted roads.  The highways ribbon of rollercoaster pavement, accented with potholes, bumps and jarring drops in levels, kept me rotating between standing mid kitchen, leaning over the counter giving my back some relief and bent over the dash taking pictures.

After our shake, rattle and roll travel from Ney’s Lunch and Campground in Marathon Ontario Canada to Grand Casino RV Park in Hinckley Minnesota, I was ready for a long respite from the jostled travel but it was not to be. There are no guarantees for fair road conditions anywhere in the US. Luckily we are blessed with folks on the RV Forums who report long stretches of habitually bad road conditions but if you must travel a road to get where you want to go, you are stuck with the rugged ride.

Entering Amish country slows our pace, partially from the rough roads, partially to steer clear of horse and buggies.

Signs of Amish

Signs warning of consideration for Amish road travel are numerous along the highways.

Amish buggy  More Amish buggys

Arriving at the Grand Casino RV Park, we set up camp for the night.

Grand Casino RV park Hinkley MN

Here to rest, not gamble, we drove to the casino for an evening meal but smoke floating out the front door brought an about face. Back to LilyPad, we whipped up a light meal and turned in early.

This morning’s rise was to ice cold temperatures with brilliant sun trying unsuccessfully to reach the earth’s surface. Portable heaters have become a necessity and remained in standby mode for warming our evenings since our departure from Sault Ste. Marie Canada, staying with us all the way to Madison, South Dakota.

Driving through Minnesota, the land of 10,000 lakes, also the land of vast farmlands sandwiching small towns between the golden fields of soldier straight crops and the flattened landscape of those plowed.

Perfect rows  miles of fields

Driving headlong into the monotone colors of the “fly over” states, we have outrun depressing weather and met up with sunshiny.  Fields, in various stages of growth and harvest, fly by us mile after mile.

Working the fields  Harvesting

As with every grain field, there are raptors making their livelihood from dining on rodents living down under. Every few miles one can be seen perched, watching and waiting until something catches their extremely focused vision.

Rapters on signs  Rapters on fence posts

We rolled cross the Missouri River and through naked hills.

Missouri River between Madison and Wall  Rolling Hills

Several rest stops were American Indian themed.

Rest Stops

Wind turbines whirled, contributing to local city power and safety signs lined fields along our pathway.

Wind turbines  Safety First

Farm equipment, in various stages of disrepair, lay in wait along the edges of fields. A few whimsical creations were settled near a highway and side street corner.

Fun art  More fun art

John and I are domiciled in Madison South Dakota and have visited once before to obtain our licenses, secure an attorney and set up our mail forwarding service. Once again headed for our mail box home, this time to exchange my Texas license for a South Dakota license. I will once again become a South Dakodite, although in my heart, I will forever be a Texan.

Madison is a quiet little town located a few miles from Lake Herman State Park. Small in comparison to most state parks where we overnight, the sunsets are beautiful, trees shade the area, the sites are spacious and the lake is peaceful.

Fields surrounding the park  Lake Herman State Park, SD, oct 2016

I love this tiny forested oasis in a land of flat uninteresting farm lands. Located a stone’s throw from Madison, it is my spark of happiness when we must return to our domicile for business. Friendly park staff and quiet nights, we decided to extend our stay to pause and refresh for a few days before continuing on with our journey home.

Lake Herman State Park   Lake Herman

After two overnights it was time to depart.  We woke to On The Road Again, Willie’s soft Southern harmony of his famous traveling song, our alarm clock music when we roll. This portion of our trip would be an extremely long haul.

Our sanity stop was Wall South Dakota. John had read about Mr. Bill Hustead, the man who became a beloved South Dakota legend by transforming a small town pharmacy into a sprawling tourist attraction of international fame.

This block-long mini town entertainment and shopping venue is a strung together conglomerate of specialty stores. For more than an hour, we explored the interconnecting buildings of hallways connecting a drug store to a gift shop,

Grocery  Gifts

a hallway connecting a dining area to old west Shoppe’s,

Cowboy Alley  The cafe  Drug store

and a hallway joining several western themed mechanical singers and speakers.

The main hallway Cowboys on the range The judge

Wall Drug Backyard offered visitors a fun entertainment area and I took full advantage of humorous props for amusing Kodak moments with John as my subject.

John and the Jackalope    John and the 6 foot rabbit

A giant dinosaur, a mini Mount Rushmore and a cowboy Pappy Zoltar rounded out the eclectic collection.

T Rex    Mini Monument

Western Zoltar

Unwound and refreshed, we climbed back into LilyPad and continued on our way to Rapid City and Mount Rushmore.

If you haven’t guessed by now, we rarely take a direct route to anywhere. Retired and homeless, we have few reasons to be in a hurry. John wanted to see Mount Rushmore so we turned LilyPad in the direction of the big mountain with the giant carved heads and away we drove. As this was an election year, the political references throughout the Monument site were appropriate although most were ignored by us both.

Driving headlong into the Black Hills, our arrival in Rapid City South Dakota was uneventful. The next few overnights would be spent at Rapid City Elks Lodge RV park. The central location allowed us to tour the Black Hills area easily.

Rapid City Elks Lodge

Friendly being the norm of Elks Lodges around the country, this Lodge was no exception. It had the added draw of being large and well appointed, with a full bar and huge dining room serving meals daily. Neither of us being in a cooking mood, we opted to have dinner at the Lodge.

Next morning, the drive up into the hills was rolling but with smooth surfaces.  From a distance you could see the famous faces looking out over the Black Hills.

From a distance

The entrance to the memorial is long and lined with state flags and plaques.

Entrance to Mt Rushmore

I searched out the Texas flag for a photo and continued walking towards the giant heads.

Texas      28th state 1845

Along the sidewalk, on the sidelines but prominently displayed, several political groups waited to capture the attention of passer byers and fill them with their ideals. I walked quickly, not of their beliefs and no longer tolerant of the Dump Trump society.

political groups

We came upon the sculptures and stood still to admire the artists genius and skill.DSC_2432

Impressive presence but even more so when you step inside the museum and read about the rest of the story.

The Mount Rushmore project was met with skepticism and criticism largely due to its only function being to bring tourism to the Black Hills.  The story is full of high expectations, bitter frustrations, struggles between egos, fascinating characters, hard dangerous work and finally, triumphant celebrations.  The project took longer to build and ran over budget.  The unveiling of the 1,278.45 acre memorial park now brings over two million visitors a year.

Sculpted by Gutzon Borglum and his son Lincoln, the carved granite sculptures were begun in 1927 and completed in 1939, a year after Gutzon died. Gutzon’s son completed the carvings and lovingly sculpted a bust of his father that stands in tribute near the Museum.

Gutzon

The original plan, credited to South Dakota historian Doane Robinson, was to have famous people carved into the Needles of the Black Hills region but the location was rejected due to poor quality of granite and the spires being too thin to support sculptures.  Additionally, the Native American groups strongly opposed sculpting the Needles.

The Needles

Working in treacherous conditions, the story boards in the museum depicted the life of the stone carvers and the challenges they faced daily.

The How   Tools

The four United States presidents were each chosen for specific reasons, all playing important rolls in American History.

George Washington was chosen for his role in the Revolutionary War and his fight for American independence. Often called the father of our country, he was the first US president.

George Washington

Thomas Jefferson was chosen because he believed people should be allowed to govern themselves, the basis for democracy.

Thomas Jefferson

Theodore Roosevelt was chosen for being such an influential president and world leader.  Roosevelt is my favorite.  His statement “The first requisite of a good citizen in this Republic of ours is that he shall be able and willing to pull his weight – that he shall not be a mere passenger…”  A statement with which I heartily agree.

Theodore Roosevelt

Abraham Lincoln was chosen because he believed all people are equal and he helped to end slavery in the US.

Abraham Lincoln

Having watched the Mount Rushmore Visitors Center movie and finished our exploration of the monument area, we drove back into the Black Hills.

Another prominent head depicted on a mountain side in the Black Hills National Forest area is the face of Crazy Horse carved on the side of Thunderhead Mountain.

Crazy Horse

The monument has been in progress since 1948 and is yet to be completed. Currently, only the face, from chin up, is complete. The land is privately held and at conception, it was to depict the Lakota warrior Crazy Horse riding a horse and pointing into the distance. The project is surrounded by controversy as the land is considered sacred by some Oglala Lakota. Commissioned by Henry Standing Bear, a Lakota elder, operated by the nonprofit Crazy Horse Memorial Foundation, it was to be sculpted by Polish-American Korczak Ziolkowski. The memorial master plan included the carving, an Indian University of North America, Indian Museum of North America and a Native American Cultural Center.

If completed, the stone carving may become the world’s largest sculpture, the head alone being 87 feet high with the final dimensions 641 feet wide by 563 feet high. In comparison, the heads of the four presidents each measure 60 feet high.

Taking a photo from the road and continuing on, the fee for a partially carved face and a gift shop was more than we considered reasonable.

On our journey back to LilyPad, we spotted a winery with a come hither name. Prairie Berry Winery and its “best seller” wine, Red Ass Rhubarb Wine. Exploration of a winery was a no-brainer so we stopped.

Red Ass Wine

Imbibing in a tasting, we decided on one bottle and continued back to our patiently waiting KatieBug pug. A long walk, dinner and early to bed.

 

John picked our next day long adventure, Sturgis South Dakota. An easy drive from our current Elks Lodge site, we ate breakfast with KatieBug and all three of us hit the road.  It was a scenic drive through the Black Hills.

More Black Hills   Black Hills

The Sturgis claim to fame is its motorcycle gathering, one of the largest annual motorcycle events in the world.

Sturgis SD

This year will be the 77th. Held annually on the second full week of August, thousands of motorcycles head towards the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. If you are traveling the freeways near South Dakota during Rally week, thousands of fantastical bikes pass by.

Known for their supreme week long parties, bars in Sturgis are plentiful and gigantic.

The Knuckle saloon  Iron Horse Saloon

Off season you could hear your own heartbeat and it was as deserted as a ghost town when we arrived. Preparing for the event is a yearlong task. During our visit, Main Street was blocked off for repaving.

The history of Sturgis Motorcycle Rally began in 1938 when Pappy Hoel and his wife gathered with friends who were motorcycle enthusiasts to have fun, picnic and race. Dedicated to nurturing and expanding the motorcycle events to ensure their success, they had no idea the gatherings would grow to the enormous size they are today. His passion for the sport created many opportunities for the community and his dedication to the motorcycle industry through donations, charities and scholarships helped to expand the rally to the world largest.

To get a feel for the event, we paid the small senior priced fee to enter the Sturgis Motorcycle Museum.

Sturgis Museum

It was a wonderful peek into the world of motorcycles.  Bikes were everywhere.  There was a section of women in the motorcycle world.

Bikes everywhere  Women Riders

A history of Senator Dave’s world record of the Million Mile Ride and the 50th Sturgis Anniversary Bike..

Senator Daves Million Miles   Sturges 50th anniversary bike

1938 Harley with a Luchenback Texas sticker and the 1967 Dream Honda, famous for introducing motorcycles to a wider population.

Luchenback TX sticker on 1938 Harley   67 Dream Honda

A 1938 Indian Chief.

1938 Indian Chief

And several vintage bikes, a 1904 Strap Tank Single and a 1910 Indian Tri Car.

1904 Strap Tank Single  1910 Indian Tri Car

But my favorite was the 1969 Triumph T100C, the exact year and style of Triumph I had when I was 17.  A heart tugging reminder of my wild teen years.

My ride at 17

After scoring a few previous year Rally sale items, we drove to the nearby city of Deadwood South Dakota, named after the dead trees found in its gulch and famous for its lawlessness and murders. Proud of their tiny historic town, there were signs everywhere.

1876 Deadwood   Deadwood

Illegally begun in 1870’s on land granted to the Lakota Native American Indians in the treaty of 1868, the land was disputed after gold was found on French Creek near Custer South Dakota. The Black Hill Gold Rush drew gamblers, prostitutes and the opium trade, increasing the population to nearly 5,000.

Historic Mainstreet

The local theater also contained a dance hall and brothel.  The town is an easy walk up and down the street and many of the buildings have been renovated and turned into nice boutique shops and eateries.

1879 hotel   Mainstreet

The town further gained notoriety for the murder of gunman Wild Bill Hickok in Saloon Number 10, August of 1876.

Saloon where Bill was shot       Wild Bill

Wild Bills final resting place is in nearby Mount Moriah Cemetery.

Mt Moriah 1878  plaques

Calamity Jane’s final request was to be buried next to Wild Bill and their graves lie side by side at Mount Moriah.

grave sites

Several days had past and it was time to pack up LilyPad, pull up stakes from the Elks Lodge and continue on down the road. We left mid-morning passing more Sunflower fields,

dried sunflowers

over train bridges with miles of cars carrying tons of coal,

Coal train

past a local welding company with welded metal art prominently displayed out front,

Local welding Co and art

and through adjacent fields where welders torches created interesting art pieces out of left over metal.

Art in fields  flower art in fields

We overnighted in Plankinton South Dakota at Hills RV Park. Just off the highway, in the middle of nowhere, dirt roads, deserted and ghostly quiet, we slept lightly, got up early and got back on the road.

Hills RV Park, Blankinton SD

Next driving day was overcast with fog swirling just outside our travel path.  War like art pieces posted like sentries on either side of a bridge we passed.

Bridge Art

At the end of a long travel day, we would spend the night surrounded by a golf course.  Wilds RV and Golf Resort in Bartlett Iowa had cement pads making it an easy set up for the evening.

Foggy in Bartlett Iowa

Pleased with the gentle coolness of the evening, we walked KatieBug and binged watched a favorite TV series before falling asleep.

Next morning we rose to a town blanketed in fog. On temporary hold until the fog lifted, after waiting two hours with the roads still partially covered, disrupting our schedule was not appreciated so we crept along slowly until the sun broke through.

Still waiting for the sun

Another full day of rolling, pulling into Walmart in Festus Missouri shortly before the sun dropped behind the horizon.  We boon docked (no hook-ups) near the garden center,  alongside the town’s local “youth designated meet-up and make-out area”, each mode of transportation revving its engine in turn to show their macho rides and impress whomever might be watching. If the revving had kept up, we might have had to rev up our 425 hp diesel engine and blast a few times on our air horns to quiet them all down.

Being fully self-contained has its advantages so we fired up the generator and dined on home cooked chicken pot pies followed by local TV and bedtime. Tonight, I considered myself lucky as sleep was interrupted only twice by train whistles.

 

Morning arrived and another long drive was in our immediate future. Needing a diesel fill up, John pulled a little too close to the steel guard posts at the gas station.

stuck against a big metal pole

Not planning his exit well, he was forced to take the car off the dolly, move the car and dolly away from the poles while I backed out LilyPad so he could hook everything back up. Not being an issue that it set us back an hour, another plus side of being retired.

The journey to Caruthersville Missouri Lucky Lady Casino was comfortable and relatively short. We crossed over the Mighty Mississippi several times on our way to the RV casino park.

The Mighty Mississippi River    The Mississippi

We will have full hook-ups tonight. Upon entering, I realized sleep time will be spent on the “flood” side of the flood gates but our site was flat and had an ample cement pad.

Lucky Lady Casino, MO

Flooding was not terribly concerning as the weather here was sunny and cloudless. Local forecast predicted a beautiful tomorrow. Neither of us wanted to donate money to the casino so having full hook-ups meant we could catch up on laundry, washing dishes and making dog food, all to be completed before dinner and sleep. KatieBug happily marked every blade of grass during her walk on what she considered to be her territory. Barring any sudden flood waters washing over the RV park, we would have a peacefully quiet evening, all three of us going to sleep early.

One more all day long drive to reach my least favorite semi-annual necessity, Red Bay Alabama, home of LilyPad’s manufacturer. We have been way down yonder in the land of cotton for days. Missouri, Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama, nearly uninterrupted travel, landing us in the land of the Tiffin manufacturer.

This year we will be serviced by Bunk House, formerly known as McKinney’s, and should not need the long wait required at Tiffin unless something they repaired the last time turns out to be incorrectly done. It will be a first, so fingers crossed as we pull into our site and await a service bay in the morning.

Bunkhouse for repairs, Red Bay AL

I’ve been told how lucky I am to have such wonderful scenic places to explore and my yard is the great outdoors. I have to shake my head in wonder as many of the places we spend the night are Walmart parking lots, local Elks Lodge parking lots, older struggling Passport America RV Parks and Red Bay parking lots.  Below was our “great outdoors” view for the next few nights.

Our view at Bunkhouse

The last dozen places we spent overnights are not exactly the fabulous wilderness settings others have pictured in their minds eye.

Several days have gone by and our repairs are complete.  While John makes the final adjustments to the car and LilyPad, I pause to look out the side window. Water is dripping down on the inside. Another roof leak. Turning to a new page on the repair book I add another item for repair to our “it’s always something” list. Fixing the leak will have to wait until we get back to Texas.

An early rise and a marathon driving day, sleeping in a closed-due-to-remodeling-from-the-floodwaters-in-a-Louisiana-Walmart with a few 18 wheelers as neighbors and police officers patrolling the area throughout the night.

Flooded Out Walmart

Across the Atchafalaya Basin Bridge and breakfast of two fluffy tender and warm Cracker Barrel biscuits.  They nearly made the memory of the lumpy bumpy ride through Louisiana melt like the butter on the biscuit.

Atchafalaya basin bridge LA

Finally arriving at Grand Texas RV Resort in Texas for an overnight, we were met with unpleasant surprises, the impossibly narrow cement pad and our steps extending  over soft red mud instead of the expected grass.  Quickly setting up camp, we fell asleep exhausted.

site at Grand TX RV

Next morning we frantically booked an appointment for a pressure leak test in the Galveston area and pulled the slides in readying LilyPad for travel.  When the bedroom slide retracted I heard a loud “clank”.  Searching the floor I found the metal slide roller had broken off its metal brackets and clanked to the ground. Oh explicit, explicit, explicit!

One overnight to fix the leak, the slide roller would wait until we were closer to our go-to repair shop in Montgomery Texas.  For the next month we will live at Galveston Bay RV Park, visit our son, future daughter-in-law, grand dogs and grand chickens in Seabrook, relax and enjoy the sea breezes and watch the wild parrots that visit our back yard.

wild parrots in our campground

John will be patching up what he can on LilyPad.  Plans are to move next month to Conroe KOA in Montgomery Texas while we search again for a sticks-n-bricks home and have Action RV Repair shop complete the rest of the motorhome repairs.

Hard to believe this is the beginning of our fifth year. However did we last this long? Probably a mix of insanity, senility, John’s love of traveling and my love of being in new places.  Besides, we both agree, you only go around once.

October 7th though October 17th 2016 Montreal/Quebec/Ottawa Canada, North Bay/Marathon Canada

One last night in New England, one last chance to experience something Vermont.  We had packed up and were ready to leave in the morning but I had read about a local bygone era variety store and talked John into coming with.  Stuffed full of an interesting mixture of everything imaginable, we arrived shortly before closing time.  Still able to take a quick peek inside, I took pictures after doors closed.

Shelburne Country Store    Inside the Country Store

Montreal Canada is our next destination and I am one ecstatic camper! With its overpowering scenic beauty, abundance of wildlife, magnificent historic buildings and statues, delightful food and a seemingly endless amount of spectacular basilica’s, shrines and temples, there is never enough time to explore it all no matter how often we visit. It is also a premium exercise opportunity.

On this entrance, our Canadian arrival was without incident. John thought it best to ship all our liquor to our daughter in Texas, allowing us to cross the border with the allotted four bottles of wine. The one bottle of liquor I use for cooking was forgotten until we had crossed and settled in Montreal. Not even the slightest hint of guilt did I feel about not paying duty on the forgotten bottle. The Canadian border crossing got every penny it was going to get from us on our last entrance.

The roadsides were still awash with fall colors as we stopped for a KatieBug potty break.

Rest Stop   Montreal farm fall colors

For the next few nights, we would stay at Amerique Montreal Camping. Tucked behind the main road, it was homey and housed mostly seasonal full-timers. When I opened the door for John to register and stepped outside in the tepid sunshine, hundreds of miniscule orange with black polka-dot lady bugs attached themselves to the warmth of our windshield and flew about my head.

lady bugs

I watched as they buzzed about in the sunshine. A dainty little lady bug landed on my arm AND BIT ME! If I had known those little winged devil insects bit, I never would have held them so tenderly as a child. The war was on! Keeping them out of the motor home became top priority. We parked, set up camp and I hunted down every one of those dreadful little bitters and tossed them out the front door. Had they not been a beneficial crop insect, they would have been smashed flat instead of being tossed out. Sun setting, it was time to relax for the night.

Sunset in Montreal

Online, I booked us a tour and organ concert, the last of the season, for the Basilique Notre-Dame De Montreal’s Organ Music Tour. After settling in at the RV park, it was our first outing for the next afternoon.

A short drive to, and walk from a downtown city parking spot, we set our direction for Place d’Armes, the square (and statue) in front of the Basilique.

downtown    Buildings near Place Jacques Cartier

The square is is small and overflowing with parental units deep in conversation, small children expending great deals of energy, elders seated and joyfully watching the children and tour guides revealing bits of random knowledge mixed with humor to the eager tourists. Our tour would begin from the steps across the square.

Basilique Notre-Dame De Montreal

We wandered around the square before crossing over and peering inside the church just before our tour time had arrived.

Statue inside   Prayer candles

The back lot concert tour was full, consisting of a mass of foreigners speaking dozens of languages, all trying to converse at the same time.  All ages, all eagerly awaiting the experience. The attendees climbed a few flights of stairs and sat in front of an expansion of organ pipes stretching from one side of the church to the other. Seating was on risers with the organ perched closely within our line of site. The organ pipes framed a huge stunning stained glass window.

Up close organ pipes  Under the organ pipes Organ Pipes

After a short introduction, the booming chords to classical, vintage musical and religious selections were heard and felt by all. Loud but enjoyable, we were allowed to walk up and view the massive organ and peer out across the church.

Our Concert Player   View from the tour

After the concert, we descended the stairs and sat quietly in pews, relaxing and taking in the unforgettably splendid detail that surrounded us.

Pulpit  details

The closer you walked towards the alter, the more magnificent the details.

From downstairs    Alter close up

Exiting the church we began our exploration of the area.  Strolling along the cobblestones, we stopped for a lite snack at Pizzeria Jacques Cartier in Place Jacques Cartier.  The food was honest as was the price.  Street performers kept us entertained and people watching was most excellent.   From our table, City Hall was the backdrop for the performers.

Musicians on Place Jacques Cartier

The street is closed to traffic, stretches from city hall at one end, to the waterfront at the other. Cobbled and slanted downhill towards the waterfront, it is a beautiful stroll beside well preserved historic buildings.

Place d'Armes square Place Jacques Cartier

The square also assumes the responsibility of an historic ambassador, demonstrating to tourists, the finer points of how to lovingly keep a public square vibrant, spotlessly clean, safe and fun.

Adjacent is the Rue St-Paul shopping area. An array of beautiful wares, clothing, jewelry, a few hokey items intermixed with Canadian oddities and delicacies.  Artistic expression rose from numerous points along the street.

Shopping near Place Jacques Cartier       Art

Statues abound in Canada and my favorite is the three women, Les Chuchoteuses, “The Gossipers”, on rue Saint-Paul.

The Gossipers

The sun was gentle as were the breezes and we savored the scent of salty sea air while walking through the district.  Home, dinner, pug time and bedtime.

 

Remembering how much fun we had visiting Canada’s open air markets in years past, we woke early the next morning and revisited our favorite. Jean-Talon Market is on flat ground, mostly protected from rain by overhead tarps and offers premium strolling through fresh produce, meats, fish, plants, baked goods, art and a few five-and-dime store offerings.

Rainy day at the market  Fresh greens

Jean-Talon Market   Garlic and shallots

I passed up all the tempting fried foods and cream filled desserts but the sweets from one of the multi-national stands, a coconut and date ball of natural goodness, looked too enticing to pass up so I took a chance.

Sweets from multi nationalities’

It was indeed yummy. The tarps repelled the rain that followed us throughout our two hour stroll and calm breezes kept us comfortable. An excellent morning venture.

Each time we enter a new city, it is important to pay attention to the laws.  In Canada, not only are laws different but you must also decipher the language and its meaning.  While I stood under cover, John tried several times to find a person who could explain the parking meter operation in English.  Later that day, when we returned, I noticed the directions were in French and English.  Paying attention to details is a must.  Oh well, off to find lunch.

Canadian Signs   Stop signs    Pay stations in Montreal

In each Canadian city visited, we search TripAdvisor for the best restaurant to enjoy Poutine, a dish of crispy potato fries, creamy cheese curds and flavorful hot gravy covering all. Addictively delicious! In Le Plateau Mont-Royal Montreal, MaammBolduc Café was one of the top picks so we left the Market and drove to this little hole in the wall diner.

MaammBolduc   MaammBolduc Café

Eclectic décor, quirky but comfy, we were invited in and ordered via pointing to our choice from a large and varied binder style menu. John in broken French, our waiter in broken English, our order came out exact, hot and delicious.

Meat Poutine and Chicken and peas Poutine

With our tummies gently stuffed, we wandered through the neighborhoods admiring street after street of fascinating condo’s before driving back to LilyPad and packing up for travel.

Condo's near the market   miles of condo's

Bright and early next morning, we would depart for Camping Transit near Quebec City.

 

A crisp and clear morning, the fall colors were still gorgeous and holding their radiance adjacent the rivers and continuing along our route.  I enjoyed the view while traveling over the Saint Laurence Seaway but John’s eyes were glued to the road.

Good by Montreal  St Laurance Seaway

The weather was pleasant for our entire trip.

Bright Fall Colors  Fall colors

Even the weeds were colorful.

Colorful weeds too

Arriving early afternoon, we set up camp, stretched our legs with KatieBug and relaxed for the remainder of the day. It was the end of the season so campers were scarce but fall colors were plentiful and extraordinarily vivid.

Our site at Campground Transit

First thing in the morning we would take the ferry from Levis to Old Quebec. Nothing could spoil my excitement about visiting Old Quebec, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, not even power spike issues with our RV’s power pole. Experience, over the past five years, has taught us we can do without 50 amp for the short term. Should anything short out, our generator would automatically kick on.

 

Next morning the ferry ride across the St. Laurence River was brilliant with color, smooth sailing and unhurried.

traveling across the St Laurance

When we reached shore, I fell in love all over again.  How could you not?

View From Levis

We stepped off the boat and into Quartier Petit Champlain, wandering through the cobblestoned streets, past century old stone buildings, enticing our imaginations to drift back though time.

Not an ancient treat but Canadian, Queues de Castor or Beaver Tail, was our breakfast.  Consisting of a stretched piece of fried dough covered with a Baskin Robbins array of flavor choices, the treat originated in Canada in 1978.  We washed it all down with coffee and began our self guided walking tour of the city.

Beaver Tails

Strolling at an easy balancing pace for me, through Basse-Ville, a.k.a. Lower Town, weaving our way down narrow streets, poking our heads into cozy shops as the day began.  Each boutique was packed with unique wares, neatly stacked from the floors to the ceilings against 17th century stone walls.

quartier petit champlain

The cluster of art galleries are accented by one of the eye deceiving murals painted by talented artists on building exteriors in Old Quebec. Life like scenes from Quebec’s past decorate the blank space where buildings have been removed, the scenes paying homage to the history of Quebec City. Pausing to view La Fresque des Québécois with a guided group of tourists, we learned it was completed in 1999, was painted on the wall of Soumande House on Notre-Dame Street and the gigantic mural encompasses 420 square meters. Fresque des Quebecois recounts the city’s story, with its unique architecture and larger-than-life personalities.  Windows in the buildings show 15 historic figures along with Quebec’s writers and artists.

Fresque des Québécois

Throughout the town, musicians settled in shaded spaces vying for the attention of locals and tourists.  We heard a variety of tunes, Bach, rock, polka etc., played on an assortment of foreign and domestic instruments.

Music along Rue Notre Dame

Notre-Dame-des-Victories (1823) is a small Roman Catholic Church and the oldest stone church in North America. It was disappointing that the church was unavailable as we had only heard snippets of the tour speech in previous years.

Notre Dame Des Victories

Place Royale is a step back in time to the early days of New France. The square is a picturesque pedestrian street filled with shops and eateries.

Place Royale square

We stopped at a small café tucked into one corner of the square with its tables edging onto the busy flow. Relaxing with a cup of coffee and a sweet treat, we watched tourists meander in and out of the shops.

Gem Shop in Place Royale     Place Royale shops

Streets of the city are somewhat difficult to walk over for the balance challenged, so when we finished our coffee, I held tight to John, not letting my tipsiness stop our explorations. We continued downward to the waterfront where dozens of antique shops faced the St. Lawrence River.

In one window I spotted an adorable antique glass tea set my mother, an avid antique collector, would have loved. The box even bore her name, “Jeanette”.

Jeanettes tea set

The street corners in the art gallery section of Old Quebec City reminded me of The Woodlands, art pieces on nearly every corner, although some selections were a little quirky.

Street art

Taking a sharp left at the last corner before the underground tunnel, we hiked up several streets to Haute-Ville, a.k.a. Upper Town, choosing to walk the rise and save riding the Funiculaire du Vieux Québec for the trip back to Lower Town.

Climbing to Upper Town  Streets of Old Quebec

From the top, the view was refreshing and expansive.

Lower Town view from Upper Town   View from the first cannon

Fort-Lewis cannons, dating back to 1813, faced the river’s mouth and lined the walkways. Benches, spaced over the next few blocks, provided tourists with scenic resting places.

Cannon More cannons  1813 Cannons

Pausing just short of the statue of St. Francis-Xavier de Montmorency-Laval (1623-1708) we sat to read about the first Roman Catholic bishop of Quebec, appointed when he was 36 years old by Pope Alexander VII.  A member of the Montmorency family, he was one of the most influential men of his day.  He was a candidate for canonization by the Catholic Church after his death and was beatified in 1980 by Pope John Paul II in 2014, Pope Francis made him a saint by “equipollent canonization”.

François de Laval

It was obvious, looking skyward in Montmorency Park, Fall was alive and well in Old Quebec.

Fall

Resting under the trees is a statue of Guillaume Couillard (1591-1663) who migrated from France to New France and was one of the first to settle permanently in the colony. He married and had 10 children. Because of the numerous descendants of these children, Couillard appears in the genealogy of almost all the old French-Canadian families. Philippe Couillard, the 31st and current Premier of Quebec, shares the same surname.

Guillaume Couillard

Continuing our walk, we came upon Cathedral of Holy Trinity in Upper Town. A charming, simple yet elegant church, the first Anglican church built outside England.

Holey Trinity Cathedral  Inside Holy Trinity  Holy Trinity Cathedral

We paused to rest and savor the tranquility. Inside, interesting wood work details, stained glass and charming old world touches. An impressive group of organ pipes decorated the back of the church.

Holy Trinity organ pipes

Historic information was detailed on plaques inside the church along with showcases of silver artifacts presented to the church by King George III. A nice plus was the docent at the door who was helpful, friendly and spoke excellent English.

Permanently tucked between two centuries old stone walls is Rue de Tresor, an open air art market.  Each time here, we encounter the works of a variety of talented artists. One particularly interesting artist paints various scenes on a copper sheet. She paints summer, fall and winter side by side. Her works are lovely and remarkably unique.

Street Art Market

Nearing the front of the magnificent Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac Hotel and after the sidewalk ends, we strolled onto Terrasse Dufferin, the expansive wooden walkway that faces the Saint Laurence River.

Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac

Having done the hotel tour a few years past, we chose to sit on a bench and gaze out at the sweeping views of the river and enjoy the refreshing breezes on this lovely mild day.

View from Terrasse Dufferin

Beginning to tire from a full day on our feet, we took the funicular down to lower town. The electric funicular cableway opened in 1879 & rises 195 ft. between the upper & lower towns. It is a fun ride up or down and surely beats using the Escalier Casse-Cou, a.k.a. Breakneck Steps, an alternative way to traverse between the two towns.

Electric Funicular

The funicular empties onto one of the oldest streets in North America, Quartier Petit Champlain. Continued walking led us to the site of the second mural we viewed, Fresque du Petit Champlain. The mural depicts milestones in the history of Cap-Blanc, Quebec City’s working class water front neighborhood. The scene begins at the start of New France until the present day.

Fresque du Petit-Champlain

Nearby is my favorite restaurant for rabbit. It resides snuggly pressed between a centuries old neighbor’s stone wall on one side and a gardened gathering and resting area abutting its open air seating on the other. If you love rabbit, dining at La Lapin Sauté is a must.

La Lapin Sauté

This visit, John had rabbit poutine and I had the rabbit sample platter. The rabbit is tender and moist, perfectly flavored and has delighted our taste buds enough times to bring repeat dining over the years.

Rabbit

Hubby’s choice had plenty of meat and cheese and the fries were crisp and hot. My plate had an assortment of rabbit hash, maple fried egg, fruit compote, warm brie, maple bacon, maple sausage, maple ham, fruit and a portion of grilled ciabatta. Each visit we try another menu item and we have yet to eat something that isn’t exceptional.

Inside it is warm, cozy and inviting. Disney’s style of authentic décor depicts a 17th century café.  The staff and servers are friendly, speak English and provide excellent service. Although the line was long, we were seated quickly, our order placed with a minimal wait time even with seating inside and out completely filled. We left full, happy and warmed to the core. The entire café area was decorated for fall, inside and out.  We sat letting our food digest without the waiter hovering for our check.

The streets were filled with sightseers and a group stopped in front of one shop to gawk.  Surprised it was still here, the name stopped me in my tracks nearly 7 years ago and yes, you read the name correctly.

Rue du Petit Chaplain    I kid you not

Pausing momentarily at the garden area next door to listen to tranquil tunes, we made our way back towards the docks.

Music in the park

A must-stop for me, the chocolate shop to savor a whiff of fragrant cocoa offerings.

Candy shop

Another pause to watch Maple Jack-Whack taffy being made on an open-air ice trough. Sampling a few maple goodies and purchasing several for Christmas, our backpack was becoming weighted down with stocking stuffers. Continuing, the streets were beginning to empty of tourists.

Maple Taffy        Shopping in Lower Town

Slowly heading towards the dock and boarding the boat at the Quebec City Ferry Terminal, we turned to bid Adieu, until we meet again Old Quebec.

Evening was quickly approaching. Tomorrow would be a grocery shopping, laundry and rest-up day. Normal everyday life was pulling us back to reality.  Our next destination, Ottawa, Canada

 

Up early, John drove an easy pace for the next four hours, pulling into Recreationland in Cumberland, Ontario early afternoon. Nothing fancy, our first site was short and small so we moved out from under the trees to an open area. I am continually puzzled as to the reason why RV park employees misunderstand our size. We tell them “the size of a Greyhound Bus, forty-five feet long, the same size as a tour bus” but no matter, they try to squeeze us into that which we do not fit, forcing us to move. Thankfully, at the end of the season, sites are plentiful. A few friendly stragglers from the full-time seasonal group still remained and John chatted with them as we settled in for the night.   Pug time, dinner and bedtime.

Recreationland, Cumberland ONT

Extended morning walk for KatieBug, breakfast in town at The SconeWitch then onward to Parliament Hill for a tour of the Parliament Building and an elevator ride to the top of Peace Tower.

Centre Block

Obtaining tickets across the street, we took the free vouchers and walked towards the Parliament Building. Standing in front of the Parliament steps, I spotted a diminutive Asian gentleman beaming widely as he held two hand painted signs. He nodded to us as we approached and gestured for us to stop and chat. Friendly and eager to speak with an American, well-informed and knowledgeable about our elections, he and I struck up a conversation while John perused the area.

Legal Chinese immigrant in Ottowa

A 30 year legal Chinese immigrant, he questioned Americans who claimed they would leave the USA for Canada if that “certain someone” won.  He thought they should first speak with Canada’s legal Chinese immigrants whom are, to this day, being persecuted. Illegal immigrants are not tolerated in Canada, period. I normally do not talk politics on my blog but I must agree with his logic for the protest. If you are a legal immigrant, your government should not treat you unjustly. His cause, the unfair treatment of legal Chinese immigrants, had merit.

Joining back up with John, we entered the line for the Parliament building tour.  Waiting in line, we had time to chat and read the corner stone dedication.

Corner Stone

Our persons and belongings searched, we were gathered together in the hall for the tour. Each hall was impressive but the massive stone structure and stained glass windows kept the building in pale light, even with the many giant ornate lighting fixtures.

Stained glass ceiling stained glass ceilings stained windows

Walking quietly from one area to the next, my genuine love of grey, white and black décor was fulfilled by the hallways gothic architecture, so incredibly awe-inspiring.

Hall from above  Arched halls hall ceiling

Our guide gave us a brief history of the commons chamber, the Senate, based on the British House of Lords, with an overview of Canadian government history.

Senate based on British House of Lords   carved stone

The entrance and door to the Library of Parliament was intricately carved and a precursor for the incredible wood carved details inside.

Library entrance  Library door carvings

A towering domed ceiling, walls loaded with ornately carved bookshelves and a magnificent timepiece enveloped in wood carvings kept everyone pivoting for Kodak moments.

Library Dome    Library inside   Library

Ending the tour on the second floor, we were steps away from the elevator that would whisk us up to the top of The Tower of Victory and Peace, or Peace Tower. The glass fronted elevator would pass and reveal the interworking’s of the clock through a window in the elevator shaft. The focal bell and clock tower is a Canadian icon and has been pictured on the Canadian twenty dollar bill.

Peace Tower

At the top, the outlook in all directions was magnificent.

View 1      View 2

View 3      View 4

The small chapel near the elevator is a memorial chamber and dedicated to those who fought in Europe in the First World War (1914 through 1918).

Peace Tower exit

Back down to the ground floor, we walked the Parliament grounds, stopping at the statues dedicated to women’s right to vote in Canada.  Women’s right to vote banners hung proudly on light posts.

DSC_2042      Womens right to vote

To the right of Peace Tower stands Eastern Departmental Building, or East Block.  Built in Victorian high gothic style, it is one of three buildings on Parliament Hill containing offices for parliamentarians with some preserved pre-Confederation spaces. Along with the Library of Parliament, it is one of only two buildings on the hill to survive mostly intact since originally constructed. It was unavailable to visitors this day.

East Block   East Block closeup

To the left stands the gothic revival office building, the Confederation Building. There was a fire drill in progress when we walked near so we continued around the entire building taking in the structure and surrounding scenic views.

Confederation Building front   Confederation Building back

Across the street, the Wellington Building House of Commons.  Probably no relation to the family where we had recently workamped in Lee New Hampshire.

Wellington Building, House of Commons

In 2017, Canadian’s celebrate 150 years as a nation. This year they are busily cleaning, repairing, painting and power washing everything “Parliament” in preparation for next year’s celebration.

lots of cleaning         West Block

Stone was being cleaned in sections and you could see the “before and after”.

surrounding gates

Even stained glass windows were being detailed.

stained glass window repairs

I very much appreciated the Iron gates with elaborate detailing.  Strength and beauty.

detailed iron work

It was an enjoyable day for strolling but when we reached the Supreme Court of Canada,  our tummies started grumbling so we reversed our direction and pointed ourselves towards the market for lunch.

Supreme Court of Canada

Our path to the Market took us through Confederation Park and Majors Hill Park before emptying onto main pedestrian friendly streets that surround Byward Market.

Pedestrian Streets near the market     Streets near Byward Market

Love their solution for keeping skate boarders from damaging cement.  Securing metal maple leaves all over the city’s cement planter edges is completely appropriate.

maple leaves

A mixture of foreign and domestic, the merchandise, produce, bakery items, flowers and dining offerings fit every budget and cater to an assortment of nationalities.

Byward Market block     Gords for sale

I opted for a cheese croissant from the bakery, spotting a poster of the outgoing President staring blatantly back at me from the bakery wall.  I had no interest in Obama cookies.

Obama Cookies

John tried the Shawarma Poutine from the Mediterranean fast food shop.

Mediterranean fast food    Shawarma Poutine

Back to the car, driving toward LilyPad but not quite out of the city, we stopped to feed my passion, visiting places of worship.

Notre Dame front    Notre Dame side

We entered Notre Dame and quietly sat down, taking in all the details.  A gracefully beautiful rest stop.

Notre Dame Church Organ pipes Notre Dame detail

This church too was built with unbelievable attention to detail.

Alter up close

Across the street, the National Gallery of Canada with a spine tingling gigantic iron spider out front, her sack of eggs tucked under her belly.  The Gallery would have to wait until next visit, as would the Canadian Mint Building next door.

National Gallery of Canada      Big spider with egg sack sculpture

At the end of our exhilarating full day of exploring, we walked back to our parking spot, eased achingly into the car and drove back to LilyPad to put our feet up and relax for the balance of the evening.

One full day of rest and recuperation was due us before we readied ourselves for the next leg of our trip back to Texas.

 

 

The usual early rise and on the road by 8 am.  As we left Ottawa, our journey down the rolling hills of Hwy 417 was lined with perfectly structured blue spruce pines.

From Reds, Oranges to Yellows, greens     Farm land and Christmas trees

We passed miles of sun tanned fields of hay.  The further south we traveled, the more leaf colors began to change.

Rolling farm land

Only one time in over six decades of life, did I reach a point of saturation from fall colors. When John and I first married and moved to Massachusetts, we took a Fall Colors Trip that exceeded 12 hours. Excessive amounts of red, orange and yellows caused my eye-brain connection to overload and my head throbbed at our journey’s end. Too much of a good thing then, was a welcome treat for me now.

Reflections

Our overnight stop was North Bay Ontario at the North Bay Elks Lodge.

North Bay Elks Lodge

We settled and searched for a grocer and found the biggest candy store I have ever seen!

Candy     Isles of candy

That night we visited with the folks at the Elks Lodge and were given the friendliest welcome from everyone at the bar. After a few beers, we returned to our lovely shaded and quiet spot near the Lodge and slept peacefully throughout the night.

 

Bette Midler’s, From A Distance, our get-up-and-get-moving music for this early rise, was John’s “surprise me” choice. We were on our way to Sault St. Marie, Ontario for an complimentary overnight in Lowes parking lot.

snow sign

Stopping for all three of us to stretch, we checked out the Indian wares at Agawa Crafts.

Agawa Crafts rest stop

A detour along the way added a few miles to our next stop.

Detour

Sun and gentle rains followed us all the way to Lowes until we parked and set up camp. The weather clearing enabled us to give KatieBug an extended walk and us to have an enjoyable dining out experience without getting drenched, some local TV then sleep.

 

Cold and rainy, it’s going to be another Bailey’s Irish cream and coffee morning, at least for me. Rolling along narrow roads, other day of slow going. Our overnight would be at Ney’s Lunch and Campground in Marathon. They were technically closed for the season but we were told we could pick any site and plug into the electricity if we decided to stay.

rolling under cover

Usually pausing at towns with quirky names that catch our attention, Wawa sounded intriguing but storms were in the area so we continued toward our next overnight, continually cautious of wildlife crossing the roads.  We have heard stories about the damage a moose will do to a vehicle.

Passing Wawa      Moose nearby

The rain temporarily ceased when we arrived at another one of those fascinating little s#!t holes John occasionally plans for our overnights. He dubs them, “OK for an overnight”. Absolutely not the words I use.

The other campgrounds in the area have been closed for weeks, Ney’s Lunch and Campground was barren and deserted, hardly something one would consider inviting. A more accurate description would have been, “for desperate campers only”. And of course there are the “it’s always somethings” to add to the experience.  We parked and walked down the narrow rutted road leading us to small muddy sites with hairpin turns for exits. Both agreeing the spaces were treacherous for us to attempt, John set up camp in their parking lot.

Neys Lunch and Campground

The highway-hugging, no electricity parking lot, still cost us $15.00. When John turned to straighten out the car for our early morning exit, the car dolly jammed, forcing John to struggle with the jack to lift up the car, take it off the dolly and straighten out the turn plate. The task gave John something to do until darkness fell.

dolly trouble again

Somehow, John has managed to select our past several overnights in locations that are within a few yards of a rail road. Loud train whistles every few hours makes sleep near impossible even with a generous helping of Bailey’s Irish Cream in my nighttime cocoa.

 

Next morning our journey started in a torrential downpour, drenching LilyPad and cautioning us to slow to a creep.  Facing the possibility of 20 tons of recreational vehicle and towed accidently hydroplaning off the narrow curvy road was terrifying. After several miles we spotted a turn-out to stop and let the rains subside.

Rainy start

Falls multi-colors were fading, partially from age, partially from the constant downpours, the wind snapping leaves off their branches and twirling them to the ground. Simon and Garfunkel’s song plays in an unending loop through my mind…”And the leaves that are green turn to brown; And they whither with the wind; And they crumble in your hand”.

Rainy Dayt

Traveling under cloud cover with intermittent spatters of rain, we wound our way over the road, following Lake Superior’s edge.

Following the Lake   nearing the lake

Up and down over the road, popping in and out of the mist and fog.

coming out of the fog   Nearing the Lake

We passed streams and rivers flowing to the Lake.

Falls coming into the Lake   Rivers joining up

Occasionally the weather cleared enough to make the journey less depressing and us more appreciative of the scenic beauty.

Back through the hills

Carefully watching for wildlife, none was spotted.  In fact, we had passed surprisingly few travelers our entire drive while skirting the Lake.  The extended hours of travel and unending days on the road made us both weary and produced flashbacks of road trips with our kids anxiously asking “are we there yet?”.  John drove at a reduced speed as we did have the entire day to reach our next destination, crossing back into the United States at Minnesota for the coming evening’s overnight.

September 29th through October 6th, 2016 Ashland New Hampshire, Burlington Vermont

After hugs good-by to all the two legged and four legged Wellingtons, we set off for Ashland, New Hampshire. Plans were for a six day, pre journey home, mini vacation. Having visited earlier in the year, we had reservations to return and enjoy all that was passed up during our last escape. We would also enjoy a special family meet-up for lunch on Saturday as our niece and nephew’s daughter was attending college in the area.

Pulling up into our previous site, we spent the balance of the day completing the drudgery of everyday chores.  Housecleaning, laundry, grocery shopping etc. are ongoing no matter where we land.  Nighttime, a long walk for KatieBug to the chirping of crickets and a good nights rest before our mini-vacation would begin.

Ames Brook campground

Rising early, day one started with something off my Favorites List, Heritage Farms Pancake House. The farm’s sunflowers were in full bloom.  After dining on one Chunky Monkey Pancake, because one is all you need, we cruised on over to The Lucknow Estate in New Hampshire.

Heritage  Farm Pancake  Sunflowers at Heritage

The Estate sits high atop the Ossipee Mountain Range. Since opening to the public in 1959, it has been called Castle in the Clouds.  We stopped at the entrance gate, paid the fee and snaked our way slowly up the narrow mountain road.

Castle In The Clouds Gate House Entrance

Half way up we stopped to stretch and walk to the Pebble and then on to the fifty foot high Falls of Song.

The Pebble Falls of Song from a distance  Falls of Song

Continuing on, we reached the welcome center, parked, gazed out over the Lucknow Overlook and took the trolley to the Estate.

Trolley to the Castle   Lucknow Overlook, NH

The Estate is an unusual example of Arts and Crafts architecture in New England, living in harmony with nature and my all time favorite style of home.  Woodworking “wow’s” pop out from every nook and cranny.

Lucknow Estate

The 16-room mansion not only exhibits skilled hand craftsmanship inside and out, but features a number of technological innovations of the early 20th century. Innovations including central vacuuming, ammonia brine refrigeration and an intercom system.

cold storage in pantry    Intercom system

The kitchen was state-of-the-art for its time.

Kitchen

Elegant grounds surround the home.

Overlook garden

Encompassing 5,500 acres, the view from the mountaintop garden grounds is breathtaking.

View to the leftView to the right

Tom, original owner of  Lucknow Estate, made his fortune in the shoe manufacturing industry. Samples of the brand, Queen Quality Shoes, was on display in the bedroom closet, including an original box.

Queen Quality Shoes     Olives dress closet

The Estate was built for the newly married Tom Plant and his wife Olive, was started in 1913 and finished in 1914.  Tom’s portrait is mounted on the wall at the top of the stairs.  Toms small but efficient office has a hidden safe.

Tom at the head of the stairs     Office and hidden vault

Elegant yet casual throughout, the billiard and organ room occupied the largest area of the home.

billiard and organ room   Organ pipes

The billiard sitting room has a cozy secret reading room hidden behind a wall.

Billiard sitting room   Secret reading room

Windows were decorated with hand painted and fired glass circles of nature scenes.

Painted and fired windows   The writting room   Library window

Tom and Olive each had their own bedrooms.

Toms bedroom   Olives bedroom

Olive had her own light filled and spacious dressing room.

Olives dressing room

Guest quarters were at the opposite end of the home.

Guest room  DSC_1655

The maid quarters were more spacious than most we have seen on home tours of this era.

Maids quarters

Bathrooms had ample space and we both had a good laugh over why women were not allowed to use the needle shower.  It seems men thought the water pressure would damage a women’s delicate skin!

Olives bathroom   Needle shower

Tom retired as a millionaire at age fifty-one. He accumulated land from the Ossipee Mountains all the way to Lake Winnipesaukee, eventually owning 6,300 acres.

After a series of failed investments, Tom fell on hard times in the 1920s and 1930s. He attempted to sell the estate in 1925, through the era of the Great Depression, and again in 1934, to no avail. Tom and Olive continued to live at Lucknow Estate until Tom’s death in 1941 at which time the property was sold.

Owned and operated by Castle Preservation Society since 2006, Lucknow is open to the public as a self-guided tour.

Exiting the property, you pass a small peaceful pond, Shannon Trout Pond, popular with Estate staff for enjoying lunch and picnics. The pond is occupied by hundreds of hungry trout that swim to greet you when you step onto the wooden dock.

Shannon trout Pond  Rainbow Trout

One way in and one way out, the small stone guard house still stands near the exit road.

Rear gate house

One detour before returning to LilyPad.  TripAdvisor suggested the Markus Wildlife Sanctuary and Loon Center and it was within a few miles of the Estate.  The sanctuary offered a walking path and in the excellent weather we were enjoying, it sounded appealing .  Before taking the path, we watched an educational presentation about Loons, walked around the hands-on learning center and browsed through the gift shop.

Loon Center Visitors Bldg  On Golden Pond Loon

Venturing outside we discovered the path was somewhat overgrown and more of a hiking trail for those with good balance and no fear of gnarly tree root systems.   It was time to leave the area and return home to rescue KatieBug from her crate.

Loon Center

After our relaxing peek into the past and interesting lesson regarding the life of a Loon, we returned home to give KatieBug a long and entertaining walk around the wooded RV park.  She met up with several of our neighbors and their crazy bouncy fur kids.   Dinner, more pug time and “to all a good night”.

 

Scanning through Groupon, we found a mutually interesting destination and planned an early start for exploring Lost River Gorge & Boulder Caves.  Just past the entrance, a Cairn grew alongside the trail.

Lost River Gorge and Bolder Caves Entrance    A Cairn along the boulder path

The self-guided tour consisted of hundreds of stairs and pathways

Up more steps  More stairs up

and a variety of crawl spaces through caves.  Neither John nor I chose to squeeze into the caves.

One of the boulder cave entrances

Cool breezes started off our morning as the path see-sawed over hundreds of wooden stairs, traversing rolling hills, rocky and root gnarled paths, over and around and through the treed forest. This venture was going to be an excellent work out but looked increasingly daunting the further in we advanced.  Reaching a giant waterfall an hour into the tour we rested, letting the waters spray cool us off.

The falls   Walkway over the water  Path to a Covered Bridge

There were many pausing points near unusual rock formations including one, for obvious reasons, known as the Hanging Rock.

Hanging boulders   Walkway through the boulders

Climbing crisscrossed boards to the top of the lookout, the view was a full sweep of green hues with a few pops of color but the steep climb down sent my leg muscles into screaming mode after having just tackled all the stairs.

Boulder overlook

A few more sets of ups and downs before we reached the visitors center and melted into the comfortable seats of our car.  These are the times I am grateful for the comfort and strength of our faithful 10 year old Lexus.  Being towed back and forth across the country for five years is a testament to its tenacity and the reason I was adamant about keeping Ribitts for our travels.

Sets of steps up     Stairs down

Relaxing in the car I thought, with 20/20 hindsight, the Loon hiking trail would have been effortless in comparison.

Fall was in full Kodachrome color so a drive over Kancamagus Highway, known for sightings of wildlife and beautiful leaf colors, was a must-see path back to LilyPad.

Kancamagus highway  Kancamagus highway overlook

The bright sunlight made the leaves look less colorful and no wild or tame animals chose to stroll nearby our line of sight.  Next day we relaxed and enjoyed lunch with family, the last time we would have their company this season.

Back to LilyPad to stow away all and ready our box-on-wheels for the slow trek home with several side-steps to keep the journey interesting.

Our short R and R complete, we programmed Burlington Vermont into Ways, our navigation program, and scanned Groupon and TripAdvisor for things to do during our next pause.

Arriving early afternoon, we settled in at an “electric only” space at Winooski Vermont’s Elks Lodge and set off to explore Church Street Marketplace in Burlington.

Burlington Elks Lodge site

If I haven’t emphasized sufficiently how much we love being part of the Elks Lodge family, let me take this moment to express my gratitude for their welcoming attitude towards RV’ers, their spacious sites in which to park and the friendly staff that greet us cheerfully at every Lodge where we have stayed. Thank you Elks Lodge Family!

The Marketplace is a destination of shopping, dining, evening libations and enjoyable people watching. We experienced a bit of everything it had to offer as we strolled the multiple streets up and back.

Church Street Marketplace

We loved it being a “no auto zone” as well as being completely non-smoking along the entire route! The area is clean, has lots of interesting small scale shops, there are no cars to distract your gaze away from the shops and it is lined with many historical buildings along its boarders.

No Smoking on Church Street   Keep VT weird  Beautifully restored buildings

Enjoyable and safe, we found The Marketplace a great area to stretch our legs during the day or night. Purchases might be a bit pricey but there were many locals with handmade offerings and only a few junky touristy traps. No panhandlers are allowed, nice touch, but they do have musicians playing along the route that are very appreciative of your monetary donations. We both agreed this was a must-see when in Burlington.

Church Street art

 

Next day we visited ECHO Leahy Center for Lake Champlain in Burlington Vermont. Perched on the edge of the Lake, the Centers mission, ”to educate and delight people about the Ecology, Culture, History and Opportunities for Stewardship of the Lake Champlain Basin”.

ECHO

Upon entering, an impressive gigantic slice of rock and water fall sculpture, locally sourced.

Rock and Water sculpture

This is a small but densely packed Center with interesting facts and hands on exploration experiences for all ages.  The lake’s Legend of Champ was an interesting read.

Kids water play area  The legend of Champ

The Center offered an enjoyable overview of the history of Lake Champlain and our intermission on their outside deck by the docks brought a cooling gentle breeze and an exceptional view of the marina and lake.

The Boardwalk boat dock

There was ample room for children to explore but we seniors had fun as well.  Polymer play sand is a tactile delight.

Polymer play sand

Watching the fish in the Big Tank was relaxing and turtles are surprisingly entertaining.

The Big Tank   Trio of turtles

The movie, Robots 3D, was a fascinating exploration into the progress of robotic artificial intelligence.

John and I had a chance to dip our fingers into the water tank alive with sea critters, read about the fascinating history of the Lake, explore the lives of sea creatures and chat with helpful docents who answered all our questions about the lake and its inhabitants.

ECHO water critters     pink sea anemone

The building is small but packs a big entertainment punch if you love discovering facts and fiction about the lake.  Two thumbs up and highly recommended for those with inquiring minds.

 

Cat-a-corner to the Center, Skinny Pancake was our lunch destination. It is dog friendly, shaded by large umbrellas on the stone deck with many outside tables and even has water bowls for your fur baby. We stopped for a snack and enjoyed the flavorful and fresh ingredients of the lite and delicious crepes. So many choices, sweet or savory, something for every taste bud.

Skinny Pancake

They sell a wheat free crunchy dog biscuit that KatieBug munched on happily.  We chose the outdoor seats with relaxing views of the water and excellent people watching.

Waterfront Park skirts the edge of the lake. We returned in the early evening to stroll along the wooden pathway and watch towns people intently focused on building unique talismans along the rocky driftwood shores.  I didn’t ask, but wondered if they were protection from “Champ“ the lake monster.

Along Lake Champlain

From one of the multiple wooden garden swings along the boardwalk, we watched the sunset cast an eerie somber grey shadow across the lake.

Sunset on the Boardwalk

Thoroughly relaxed, we returned to the Elks Lodge for a lite dinner and a quiet night’s sleep.

 

Today we would jam-pack in as many tourist trap stops as possible.  The leaves were still turning colors, exposing us at every curve and rolling hill to a brilliant showcase of New England Fall.

Twisting     Rolling hills

It would be unthinkable to ignore one of the most ingenious ice cream makers in New England, Vermont’s own Ben and Jerry’s creamery.

Entrance at Ben and Jerry's  Ben and Jerry's RV

The weather was cool and, lucky for us, the line was a short wait for entering the tour.  Most of the visitors were seniors so the medium length tour was taken at a snail’s pace, fine by me. Information presented was no different from other ice cream factories we have visited but Ben and Jerry has wildly original flavors and a diverse list of fancy mix-in’s.  There were several walls of ice cream scoops that spanned the history of ice cream to entertain us while we waited.

Empower Mint flavor      Ice cream scoops

John partook, I saved my calories for our next stop, Cabot Cheese outlet.

The Cabot Cheese Outlet is located in Winooski Vermont, a short drive from the creamery. The Outlet contains a vast expansion of everything cheese.  Cabot Extra Sharp Cheddar is my favorite and free samples were everywhere.

Cabot Cheese Store

The temperature was cool, partly because of the weather outside and partly due to the wall of refrigerated cases opening and shutting as visiting customers purchased tasty tidbits. A sharp cheesy aroma drifted throughout the store.  Several rows of food samples were offered along with tables of artistically displayed cheese choices. Mixed among the cheese was every kind of souvenir imaginable, all containing a cheese theme.

One building over, Smugglers’ Notch Distillery. We rarely pass up a chance to sample what local distilleries offer. The flight of 80 proof tastes were exemplary. John and I split each one, ample alcohol for us to enjoy the six flavors. The small sips allowed either of us to be sober enough for the drive home. Tiny liquor bottles for stocking stuffers purchased and tucked into our bag, we headed for Vermont’s premier chocolate, Lake Champlain Chocolates, across the parking lot.

Disappointed that entering the front doors didn’t produce a heavenly confectionery aroma, we quickly scanned the lower area that was filled with upscale jewelry before taking a step up to the next room where the chocolate was displayed. One case of chocolate, various types, not the factory I was hoping to explore. I bought a few small squares for stocking stuffers, popped one truffle sample into my mouth and we left in search of a place to dine.

On the way to dinner, instead of seeing cows grazing in the fields, wild turkeys were marching along through the green brush chowing down on bugs.

Open fields   Wild Turkeys

Trying local restaurants can be a crap shoot, with positive dining experiences floating somewhere around 60 percent. Our House Bistro in Winooski Vermont was rated well on TripAdvisor. We parked, arriving peak dinner hour and ready to enjoy pub grub with a twist.

Our House

A small narrow pub, embellished with vintage lunchbox décor, only a few tables and no room at any so we climbed up on stools at the bar. Comfort food was their specialty with variations on Mac n Cheese, Pot Pie and burgers. John had Pot Pie, I opted for Mac n Cheese, both were excellent.

While enjoying dinner, I noticed the liquor shelf at my eye level. It displayed a newly prominent Texas liquor, Tito’s Handmade Vodka. Small world.

TX vodka in VT

Back to LilyPad, relax for the night, one more partial day of exploration.

 

Today we would pack up early for our first-thing-in-the-morning Vermont exit.  A grocery run, driving tour of the town and back to LilyPad to relax. A short drive from the Elks Lodge lives the The University of Vermont and State Agricultural College, a public research university.  Since 1862, the U.S. state of Vermont’s sole land-grant university.  On a corner not far away is a 1900’s bank building and Burlington City Hall

University of Vermont    1900 Bank Building    Burlington City Hall

The homes and buildings surrounding the University are stately and well maintained.  St. Joseph’s, built in 1896, still serves the community.  Nightfall and early to bed.

Well maintained homes     St. Joseph's 1896

Rested, refueled and ready to roll, we woke early and were on the road again.  Next destination, Canada!

On the road again   Winding roads

August 28th through September 28th 2016, Holden Massachusetts, Lee New Hampshire, Boston Massachusetts, Portland Maine, closing down Wellington Camping Park

Our next free time escape took us to visit John’s sister and brother-in-law, niece and nephew, all living in Holden Massachusetts. Taking LilyPad and boon-docking, using our generator/water tanks and living in the parking lot of the Auburn Elks Lodge was an economical way to visit but not one I wish repeat. I enjoy boon-docking but much prefer a quiet scenic park-like area to a blacktop parking lot next to an Elks Lodge bar.

The Never Ending Story of “It’s always something” hit hard this week, beginning the series of unwelcome events as we prepared to exit our campsite at the onset of our Holden journey. We read stories of far worse things happening to others but it is disheartening when our list goes on without end. Exiting, I drove the car, John drove the motorhome. Being easier to hook up the car in the campground on the downstairs level, two-way radios in hand, off we drove. Turning to notice John driving away with the door awning still extended I spoke into the radio warning him to stop. As John rolled closer to the huge tree branch, the awning positioning itself for imminent destruction, I panicked and sprinted after the motor home, banging on its rear end. John stopped with the awning a smidge short of hitting the limb. I cringed at the thought of the cost to replace a ripped off awning. When he stopped and I opened the door, he said he didn’t hear me on the radio. Well Duh…hard to hear when his radio was off. Awning out, phone off, two “Oops” and we hadn’t even left the campground.

Hooking up the car, John drove off in a cloud of dust. Luckily he noticed the wildly waving arms of a camper running behind us. John had set the parking brake on the car and was dragging the locked wheels along the road. Three “Oops” and we were off.

A few days later, on our way home from Holden, we stopped for gas. After filling up, we started to exit the pumps and I heard a loud “thunk” that shook the motor home. John kept moving but I yelled “don’t move” and rushed out the door to inspect the RV and car. Our newly purchased, but old and decrepit car tow dolly had twisted, not something it should do, and shoved one of the steel tire ramps into the underside of Ribitts driver’s side door.

Twisted tow dolly

Securely wedged, the only way to move the wheels of the dolly was to lift the car up and off. Luckily we were able to disconnect the dolly from LilyPad, leaving only the car and dolly stuck in the middle of the gas station parking area. “Oops” number four and counting.

Wheel jamming the door

In 44 years of marriage, we have not been without AAA.  Owning a motor home and car required us to regretfully change companies. Coach Net specialized in car and motor home insurance and we gratefully pay Coach Net to rescue us anywhere in the United States and Canada. It was difficult explaining exactly what had happened for Coach Net to know what to send to the rescue. Telling them we needed to lift the car off the tow dolly brought a long pause, then a barrage of questions. To their credit, within 20 minutes, they sent the perfect size tow truck and an experienced driver.

Tow truck lifting the car off the dolly

The gas station was next to an auto body shop and the owner agreed to heat and bend the tow dolly frame back into its proper position, solving any future problems once the car was freed.

This is where I tell John, “I told you so”. When we first picked up the tow dolly, I mentioned it was extremely old, needed work, looked bowed in the middle and I wouldn’t use my dollars to make the purchase. John talked with the seller, thought it looked fine, took the owners claim that the tires were fine and trustingly handed a complete stranger the cash.

Back to our site with LilyPad minus the tow dolly, parked but not settled, John partially slid out our kitchen slide to hook up our WiFi cable. He left a large flashlight on the slide rail and continued to let out the slide. I heard a cracking sound and yelled “wait”, Noticing the flashlight beam of light atop the slide, I pulled it out. Another “Oops”. This seasons last few “It’s always something’s” have stressed out my last nerve.

Settling back in at the campground, the other workamper caught me up on the latest scandalous roguery of our chaotic, homeless tent families.  She had suffered the wrath, foul mouth and explosive temperament of one camper after being asked to encourage them to load up their multiple bags of smelly leaking trash on the campground truck and drive it up to the dumpster. The camper screamed and threw insults at her about us workampers being the “establishment” and we had no business telling him to clean up his campsite.

We presently have five homeless families, four with children. I have nothing against people down on their luck, however, being financially challenged is no excuse for leaving rotten food, empty bottles, cans and piles of dirty clothes strewn across tables and the ground. The rest of the campers manage to deposit their waste in the lined trashcans, which the owner supplies, disposing full bags in the dumpsters instead of leaving them piled around their campsite. And in a family campground, it is inexcusable to be screaming obscenities at your young children, excessively drinking all night and shirking the responsibility of watching your own offspring. No other guests initiated an “in your face” high volume disrespectful confrontation with John, then me, over who’s responsibility it was to watch their child.  The child was standing shoulder deep in the river, without a lifejacket, unable to swim, wailing and well within earshot of a parent who chose not to react. It had the appearance of a law suit waiting to happen. For a handful of days previous, we listened to him preach unflattering claims of our shortcomings to his fellow homeless neighbors from the steps of the men’s bathroom.  I listened to him rant and rave as I scrubbed the women’s bathroom. I don’t do “bite your tongue” exceptionally well but dealing with power keg personalities is best left to professionals.

Short of a few squirrels, one porcupine, a dozen or so wild turkeys and a few deer, not many interesting wild things have crossed our path. Leaving the gallon size hummingbird feeder out while we were visiting family in Holden, expecting to eventually draw hummers to our site, no liquid was missing upon return.  Down it came, replaced with a smaller version. Again, no hummers. The feeder hung full for another three days and I considered giving it up for the season. The next morning, as I stood inside by the front door, a medium sized hummer was paused with its beak fully engaged in the yellow fake plastic flower, draining as much sugar water as he dared before spying me and speeding off. Next day we saw him twice and he continued drinking daily until the last week of our stay.

Only one hummer

This morning, before we began our chores, John overfilled the fresh water tank and our site got a thorough drenching. Although I consider this another “Oops”, there was a silver lining. It wasn’t the black tank.

End of another day, work complete for another rotation, we readied ourselves for tomorrows visit to one of my favorite small towns, Salem, Massachusetts. KatieBug would have a sleep over at Yellow Dogs Inn so we could relax the entire day and not have to rush home.

Salem’s hokeyness begins shortly after exiting your parked car. We spied a Little Shop of Horrors plant plopped out in front of a building, encouraging tourist to enter.

Little Shop of Horrors

We sat outside the Visitors Center waiting for Seth, our tour guide for our Groupon tour purchase. After joining up with another couple, Seth led us strolling through town enjoying tidbits of information along the way. Because we have toured Salem before, we noticed each tour guide shares the tales with slightly adjusted facts, personalizing each tour. The one fact that is never revised or altered is the one exposing the details of the Salem Witch Trials.

Salem Massachusetts is a must-see for anyone visiting New England. Not for the corny backroom séances or the satanic influence enticingly glaring out at tourists from dark back-alley shops but for its amazingly resilient seacoast townspeople, early American history and from its humble beginnings, what it is best known for worldwide, the Salem Witch Trials.

Although the granite surround in a park like setting is designed to be a place of respect and reflection, I found the memorial littered with pieces of trash and cigarette butts. Brushing trash away with my shoe, I took a picture of the victims’ protests of innocence, carved in granite, lying across the entrance. Their cries of anguish haunted my thoughts as I stood next to the monument. Twenty people, falsely accused, tortured and sent to their deaths.

Quotes from the accused    Quotes from those accused

Shading the stone memorial are five Locust trees. Locust trees are the last to flower and the first to lose their leaves and were planted to represent the injustice of the trials. You can see tombstones in the background, a reminder of those who stood by in silence as they witnessed the hysteria.

Salem Witch Trials Memorial

The memorial park is dedicated to the enduring lessons of human rights and tolerance learned from the Salem Witch Trials of 1692. It was dedicated on the day of my birth, September 9th. Although John suggested it, this in no way connects me to the occult. Witch Doctor, yes…Witch, no.

Witch Trials Memorial

Three hundred and twenty four years later, society’s indifference to oppression is as callous today as it was during the horrific Salem Witch Trials of 1692. Sadly, we haven’t attained greater tolerance or gained further wisdom from past actions as some would wish us to believe.

We walked by St. Peter’s Episcopal Church and hesitated long enough to learn about those buried on church grounds. The exact number is unknown as graves were moved to provide space for development in 1845. Some of the tombstones were incorporated into the chapel walls and headstones were stored haphazardly in the church basement during expansions. It is not known if the headstones represent the human remains beneath.

St. Peter's Episcopal Church

The historic Lyceum building, now Turner’s Seafood, is built on top of the former site of Bridget Bishop’s apple orchard. The building is reportedly haunted by the ghost of Bridget Bishop, the first victim of the Salem Witch Trials. The historic building has been featured on many paranormal shows including Ghost Adventures and Ghost Hunters, as were many other of the centuries old buildings in Salem. It is said that the smell of apples wafts through the building. Poking my head inside, no scent of apples, only the scent of French fries.

Lyceum building

Our previous to The Burying Point was at night, when the grounds were closed and no entrance was allowed.  This time, our visit was in daylight and we were able to walk around the grounds.

The Burying Point

Seth pointed out Col. John Hathorne Esquire’s grave marker. Often portrayed as a judge in the Salem witch trials, he was an executor and the only one who never repented of his actions. You may notice that his famous son, the writer Nathaniel Hawthorne, spelled his name differently. The name was so scandalized by the actions of his father, he changed the spelling to distance himself.

Seth and John Hathorne Esq   Nathaniel Hawthorn

The most photographed and notable statue in Salem is of Roger Conant, the first settler in 1626. His home is available to tour and is located a block from the statue.

Roger Conant

In 1830, the house at 128 Essex Street, one of the grandest in Salem, was the scene of a brutal murder, a twisted tail of greed and deceit that sealed the fate of the owner, 82 year old Capt. Joseph White. White was a wealthy but childless widower who made his fortune as a shipmaster and slave trader.

The murder captivated the nation and inspired the writings of Edgar Allan Poe and Nathaniel Hawthorne. Congressman Daniel Webster, the famed lawyer and congressman, was prosecutor at the trial. Webster’s summation for the jury was thought to have been the inspiration for Poe’s “The Tell-Tale Heart,” and may have affected the mindset of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s writings of family fortunes, abounding guilt and retaliation. Smithsonian Magazine’s website has substantial details of the famous murder.
128 Essex Street

On the corner, across from the historic Hawthorne Hotel, stands StickWork 2016, the artistic endeavor of artist Patrick Dougherty with contributing efforts from the Salem community. I Googled his work. Impressively massive forms from natural sources.

2016 StickWork      Hawthorn Hotel

Our tour now ended, we strolled once more through the streets of downtown Salem before daylight faded, climbed into the car and drove the coastal route back to Lee. Dinner was yummy Beach Plum lobster rolls. We spent an hour with the TV before bedtime.

KatieBug greeted us happily as we picked her up the next morning from Yellow Dogs Inn. Back to LilyPad, starting the first of several loads of laundry, a quick trip to pick up groceries, more laundry, vacuuming floors, storing anything not in its rightful space, darkness overcame the campground and another day ended.

Our work week was relaxed now that season’s end was approaching. Just one more major chore, closing down the campground, still loomed ahead. With Boston still on our To Do List, next day off we would schedule KatieBug for another overnight and spend the entire day walking the streets of Boston. I began a mental list of what was most important to see as one day in Boston is never enough time.

Early morning, after our work week ended, we dropped KatieBug at the Inn, stopped at Hampton Beach in New Hampshire for breakfast at a small beachside diner then drove to Oak Grove subway station, catching the “T” to Boylston Street. This time we would walk the entire day, no Hop-on/Hop-off bus or subways other than the one back to where our car was parked.

Hampton, New Hampshire

Our walk began alongside the two major Boston parks to the downtown library, a short pause on the church lawn to explore the farmers market offerings and to score some delicious goat cheese, then over to Newbury Street.

Boston Common

A U-turn down Newbury Street all the way to the Public Gardens, a shaded comfortable bench on which to relax before stopping to view tourists enjoying the Swan Boats.

We continued our walk through the Commons, stopping to rest at the Frog Pond. In the winter, the frozen pond is crowded with ice skaters and it’s delightful to watch all the agile activity.

Frog Pond in Boston Commons

Next rest stop was under shade trees near Brewer fountain. My memories of this large open area are filled with the voices of political and religious soap box speeches so often enjoyed on my lunch hour. Open air debate, very invigorating.

Brewer Fountain

Next on my mental list was to stroll through The Old Granary Burial Ground to visit Mother Gooses grave.

Mother Goose

When we first lived in Boston, rubbing pencil lead over a paper placed over the marker design, also known as grave rubbings, was allowed.  Sometime after we moved, it was made illegal and the city closed the grave yards at night to keep the stones from being damaged.  When viewed up close, the carvers work is beautiful and detailed.

Cemetery art work

You cannot visit the Old Granary Burial Ground without paying tribute to all the founding fathers along the cemetery path. The Franklin Family Monument is clearly visible from any of the paths.

Franklin Family Monument

Robert Treat Paine (1731–1814), signer of the United States Declaration of Independence.

Robert Paine

Samuel Adams (1722 – 1803), an American statesman, political philosopher, and one of the Founding Fathers of the United States.

Samual Adams

Paul Revere (1735 – 1818), was an American silversmith, engraver, early industrialist, and a Patriot in the American Revolution.

Paul Revere

Founded in 1660, the Old Granary Burial Ground in Massachusetts is Boston’s third-oldest cemetery and one of the major stops for colonial dressed guided walking tours.

Old Granary Burial Ground

John and I moseyed back through town, a pause in front of Franklin’s birthplace,

Birthplace of Franklin

crossing in back of the Old State House, the site of the Boston Massacre,

The Old State House

down to Faneuil Hall, topped with Boston’s most famous weathervane, The Grasshopper, from acclaimed craftsman Shem Drowne who crafted the weathervane atop Old North Church.

Top of Faneuil Hall

Across the street sits the Haymarket, an enjoyable viewing of the city’s weekend fresh garden offerings.

Meat Markets at Haymarket   Haymarket

If you focus your attention downward while walking Haymarket streets, you will view the city’s 1976 artistic creation of bronzed trash and debris providing an intimate experience of the market, open or closed. The “trash” is embedded in the crosswalks and is enjoyed by visitors during the market and after all has been power washed away.

Haymarket brassed trash

A short jaunt across the freeway is The North End, the Italian section of Boston. I loved this area while living in Boston and my adoration has not lessoned. Part of the Freedom Trail, the red bricks pave a path to the colonial home of American patriot Paul Revere. The red line passes the Old North Church, the oldest standing church building in Boston and “one if by land, two if by sea” fame.  Paul Revere’s statue dominates the park behind the church.

Paul Revere statue

Our dinner choice for tonight was Giacomo’s Italian Restaurant, a tiny hole in the wall restaurant down the street from Paul Revere’s statue in the North End.

Giacomo's Italian Restaurant

Open at 4:00 pm daily, John waited in line until the doors unlocked. Not the first to enter, our seats were in the front window, without shade and overly warm. The atmosphere was noisy, casual and homey. The food was excellent. We ordered the special, never believing we would finish the gigantic plateful.

Seafood for dinner

After our delectable dinner, the plan was to walk back to Faneuil Hall Marketplace. Stuffed as we were, my darn sweet tooth saw Mike’s Pastries, the premier Italian bakery in the North End, and started wailing something fierce. I knew it wouldn’t stop until it got a double shot of something sweet. By the sound of the racket in my head, I’m thinking I may have several sweet teeth back there in my jaw. Finishing one of Mikes exquisite double chocolate peanut butter brownie quieted down the chores.

Waddling down the streets of the North End, across Faneuil Hall, descending the stairs into the subway and back to the car. We were the only ones in the subway car for most of the ride. An hour after exiting the “T”, we arrived at LilyPad. Early to bed, early to rise to pick up KatieBug and relax one more day before the start of our last week of work.

 

Our return visit to Portland Maine was a quick half day trip taken our last free day before work.  Purchasing Groupon tickets to reduce the cost of entrance fees, our primary afternoon destination for the day was The Victorian Mansion. The mansion is an Italian villa style home decorated by Gustave Herter, one of America’s first interior designers. No pictures are allowed inside so I borrowed one from the internet showing the detailed wall paintings.

Victorian Mansion     Side view

The house and furnishings are historically accurate and exceptionally well preserved, offering a peek into the “Gone With the Wind” pre-civil war opulence. The building is distinguished for its architecture and incredible hand painted original interior walls, custom carved Italian marble fireplaces and hand carved interior woodwork.

hand painted walls and ceilings    Inside Victorian Mansion

In awe as I approached the immense carved front doors, stepping through to an additional set of interior doors with intricately decorated etched glass panels, the feeling stayed with me throughout our tour and lasted beyond exiting down the back steps.

Front doors

After the tour, lunch, a walk around town and back to Lee for a good night’s rest before morning arrives and we begin putting the campground to sleep for the winter.

Today begins our last few days of workamping as we start closing duties. Plants in baskets are tumped over (a Texas term meaning spilling out the contents of a container) bottoms up, pressed into the earth, crushing the flowers into the soil, the winter snows packing them into the ground and turning the decayed flowers into next spring’s fertile soil.

The 4 pounds of extra corn, left over from the forty, 7 inch square, Corn Hole Toss bags I sewed last week for the owner, has been scattered in the front field for the deer and turkey to carbo load up for the winter.

Picnic tables are moved close enough to a tree to be upended and leaned over so snow doesn’t pile up on top. It was a bit less complicated than tipping cows because you don’t have to sneak up on them.

Tipped tables

The beach is cleaned, chairs gathered, stacked and moved into the rec center via the campground truck.

Beach cleaned

Boats emptied of paddles and stacked on the boat rack.

canoes up

Garbage cans are emptied and moved inside the front porch of the original owners cabin down at the river’s edge.

Emptied and stored cans

Seasonal families are packing up and closing down their sites. Blue tarps cover all odds and ends gathered together and wrapped over the tops. Grills and trailers also covered. A few abandoned broken pieces of metal sit in wait for the metal guy to come fetch them.

Seasonal sites

Next morning, breakfast at Tiltin’ Diner, a 50’s style diner and part of the Common Man chain of restaurants in New Hampshire, heartily enjoyed with our forever buddies since pre-children days, Rich and Judi.

This year we were able to visit them several times, reminiscing about the old days, sharing news, not thinking about how many years have gone by as we watched the sun set on peaceful Sawyer Lake from their porch.

Rich and Judi's dock

Next years workamper sites will be next to the rec center, a few yards from our current site.

foot path to rec center

They are open, large, flat and together in one area.

Next years workamper sites

Later in the day, after closing duties were complete, we shared a few bottles of wine and said our farewells to Pat, Chris, Doug, Scott, Susan and Conchita (Pat’s fur baby) before we settled down for our final night at Wellington Camping Park and made ready for our journey home via Canada. Yea, I know it’s not the shortest route, but what good is retirement if you can’t take the long way home and stop to smell a few roses?

Five months ago, I swore I heard the theme song from Deliverance playing somewhere in the distance as we bumped down the dusty dirt incline to our site. My first impression was extreme discomfort and I was looking for any excuse to be elsewhere.  The campground presented dozens of valid reasons why we should leave and it appeared to be another unfortunate choice.

Two months into our workamping job, our move upstairs and away from the dust calmed my “get me out-of-here” pleas and changed them to “we’ll stay for the term”. Seeing Pat and the family work diligently to improve the campground, my opinion changed once more. As we helped Pat prepare to close the campground for the season, I admit, I have become increasingly fond of the owner, her Golden-doodle fur baby, her sons and family. They will be missed.

July 28th through August 27th, 2016 St. Martin Village New Brunswick Canada, Prince Edward Island Canada, Ashland New Hampshire

Our NEXUS cards, KatieBug’s health record, our list of fresh veggies and fruits on hand to give to the border agents and our motor home, all in prepare-to-cross-the-border mode. We had planned to leave first thing in the morning but were stalled by visits to the local auto repair shop for our cars failed a/c., twice in one week. With the repair shops promise of getting us on the road before the end of Tuesday, we were able to pick up the car before noon, hook-up to our new-to-us car tow dolly and were on our way to Canada.

Overnight was at the Wal-Mart parking lot in Calais Maine, a short drive from the Canadian border. Tonight, anything fresh with a pit or seeds must be eaten, mashed or frozen and all pits, stems, seeds and peels must be removed from the motorhome.

Calais Walmart camp site

The town of Calais has some incredible Victorian gingerbread trimmed homes lining the main street. Seeing beautiful vintage homes being repurposed into well cared for businesses is heartwarming. The houses are fashion forward forever. Such a waste when they chose to tear them down.

I asked John if there was anything else to declare. For the fourth time, having to listen to him say “don’t worry, we are OK” over and over, we were off to the border. Arriving with our list of produce in hand, we were asked to declare how much liquor we had in the motor home. Wait, what? I looked at John. John said “7 or 8 bottles”. We had not listed liquor, only fruit and veggies! We were directed to write down the type of liquor, size of the bottle and the amount in each bottle and present the list. Oh crap. Paper and pen in hand, I scurried to the bedroom and started listing. Returning and saying each one out loud to the border agent, stating again, we live in our motor home full time and some of the liquor has been sitting unopened for several years. He stared back unimpressed. Telling us we had exceeded the limit, we were instructed to bring the list inside the building. When I glared at John and asked him what was the limit, the guard answered for him. “You have a NEXUS card. You are supposed to know you are only allowed one bottle each.” Oh great. Long story short, John had not bothered to read the NEXUS rules. His excuse? They hadn’t asked us about liquor the last two times we crossed over the Canadian border. We paid $199.00 to bring our own liquor, some of it carried unopened for years, across the border. My mood, tone and remarks gave him warning, I was not amused.

On the road again with the constant pounding of the wheels hitting the pavement gaps, irritating the nerves in my spine, exceeding the relief my three lidocaine pain patches could mask. Coupled with a migraine, a reaction from the lidocaine, I stood in the back of the motorhome, bent over and resting on the counter, for the greater part of our journey.

After the back-jarring journey, costly fee and stress at the boarder to bring our unopened liquor over the Canadian border, we both were looking forward to an easy transition into normal retiree life, if only temporarily. Less than two hours later we arrived at Century Farm Family Campground in the Village of St. Martin. Our site was a huge pull through on level grass with a reasonably close view of the Bay.

Our site at Century Farm

Mathias Moran was granted the campground land in 1783 and the property has been in the Moran family ever since. The campground is basic, lots of seasonal couples, flat level sites, close enough to the bay to see the ripples of the water. No sand, just grit, rock and chilled crystal clear water. All in all, a great campground, site and view.

Century Farm Family Campgroud

St. Martins is a Canadian village in Saint John County, New Brunswick Canada. The picturesque community, rich in seafaring history, is situated on the Bay of Fundy. The village was founded by Loyalists in 1783 and originally named Quaco. Over 500 sailing ships were built in this area in the 1800’s. Shipbuilding declined after 1870’s and lumbering, fishing and tourism took its place.

Slides out and levels down, all settled and ready to explore, we set off in search of either chowder or lobster, whichever we found first, for dinner. We drove into town, a three minute drive, and parked to walk the tiny Village of St. Martins. The village was comprised of a few brightly colored tourist shops, the bay and lobster boats.

Town businesses  High tide boats

At high tide, the bay swells with brackish water and the boats bob gently up and down.  At low tide the boats rest tilted and squished into the muddy bottom of the bay.

Boats at High Tide  Boats in the Bay of Fundy low tide

Dinner would be seafood “chowder” at Sea Side Take Out Restaurant. The pronunciation reverts back to “chowdah” when we return to New England. The sea caves were visible from the restaurant, 200 yards from shore. Tomorrow the caves would be our destination

Sea Side Take Out

Surprised the town closes down early, we were only able to get chowder “to go” and drove back to LilyPad for dinner. A stroll along the shore before sea sounds lulled us to sleep.

Bay of Fundy

Next morning, back into the village to explore and visit the caves. In the village are two covered bridges, still in use, within a block of each other and a lighthouse. St. Martin is the only place in the world where twin covered bridges and a lighthouse can be photographed in the same picture, although I chose to take photo’s of them individually.

Covered bridge by the lighthouse  Covered bridge to caves

The covered bridges sit next to the small inlet serving as lobster boat docks. The lighthouse was converted into the visitor center but closed each time we passed.

St. Martins Tourist Information

Past the village, through one of the covered bridges, up the hill and around the corner were the sea caves.

Covered bridge high tide  Caves at high tide

The sandstone Sea Caves are a UNESCO Fundy Biosphere. Accessible by foot during low tide, the crossing is rocky.  It is a fair distance from the road and walking can be difficult on the large loose stones if you have ankle, knee or back problems. I had John and my cane and the will to have a firsthand experience instead of watching from the shore.

Caves at low tide    Low Tide in the cave

It was a beautiful day for a walk in the sunshine. Several of our neighborhood RV families had joined the bands of tourists rambling in the direction of the caves. One narrow water flow from land, easily crossed, then into the caves. The dark coolness inside was delightful.

Sea Cave  Inside the big cave

Exchanging Kodak Moments with one of our neighbors, we poked around the receded ocean floor before joining the flow of tourists back to shore.

Inside the cave

Next morning, off to the town of Sussex for groceries and supplies. Nothing worth a photo except Canada’s top selling breakfast cereal.

Canadas most loved cereal

We did discover a fantastic thrift shop near the market and came out with a stack of intricate adult and easy kid puzzles to donate to Wellington’s stock of campground rec center activity supplies. After scrubbing four bathrooms, resting while working a 500 piece puzzle is an excellent way to allow body temperatures to cool down on a hot muggy summer day.

Packed up the night before, we arose early for the next leg of our journey, Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada. The summer flowers in shades of purple covered fields along the way.

Fields of purple

To reach the island by vehicle, one must cross over the Confederation Bridge. It connects New Brunswick to Prince Edward Island (PEI). Atchafalaya Basin Bridge – 96,100 feet, between Baton Rouge and Lafayette is the longest bridge we have crossed with LilyPad towing, but the Confederation Bridge has been the most expensive.

Confederation Bridge

Locals called the bridge the “fixed link” until its name was given upon completion. Most of the bridge is 131 feet above water. It took us about 15 minutes to cross the bridge and John was anxious to be on dry land. No fee on the way over, the toll applies only when leaving PEI and the rates are steep, almost $70.00 for our RV and car.

Cornwell Charlottetown KOA on Prince Edward Island was gigantic, fully packed with families and overflowing with little kids enjoying the last Canadian long weekend of the year. We reserved a pull through, not expecting it to be a premium site. What we got was a spacious and flat, front row corner, Bass Cove water view site. Lucky us…didn’t see one site better in the entire park!

High Tide KOA LilyPads view    Our site in Cornwall KOA

After settling, we watched our neighbors bring up a bucket full of Quahogs from the low tide mucky sea bottom and we chatted about their catch. Next day another neighbor, with kids in tow, brought up a large bucket full of Quahogs and we discussed the process of bleaching out the sand for steaming their catch the next day. After watching two families hunt, dig up and clean the clams, it took mere seconds for John to decide clamming was too much work. My grandparents would have disagreed. They regularly took their travel trailer to Washington for the season and spent their days digging clams, dining on fresh steamers and enjoying sunsets from the beaches. Grandma would turn any clams not immediately enjoyed into a killer Italian clam sauce.

Clam digging low tide

I had read about The Dunes Studio Gallery and Café in TripAdvisor and it sounded like an intriguing place for lunch. No wake up alarm was set so we got up late, took a relaxing walk across the bay floor at low tide with KatieBug before leaving to lunch at The Dunes.

On the way, we passed plastic wrapped dry hay marshmallows resting in a field next to a horse pasture. John had chatted with our neighbor in St. Martins and he told us the story of why the bales of hay are wrapped. Wet hay can ferment causing equines adverse health effects. Wrapping the hay at specific moisture levels, after cutting and drying, results in minimal fermentation and no problems with horse digestion. Cows, on the other hand, enjoy the fermentation of unwrapped bales of hay. Hmmm…we learn something new every day.

hay marshmellows

Reaching the Dunes shortly before lunch, we entered through the gift shop, put our name in at the Café and sat in the art gallery enjoying the mixed media works until our name was called. From our table, we could see the gardens outside and art in a patchwork pattern covering the walls of the floor directly above us.

Dunes Cafe, gardens and gift shop   Inside the Dunes Cafe

Lunch, for me, was a huge bowl of mussels. PEI blue lipped are delicious and touted to be of premium flavor for aficionados. Like eating lobster in Maine, if you love mussels, this is the place. As the saying goes…when in Rome.

After lunch we wandered around the gift shop with the gardens luring us through huge picture widows all across the back of the gift shop.  One particular piece caught my eye. The artist had draped a huge blown glass bowl inside tree limbs. All it needed was a bright orange long finned fan tail gold fish swimming around inside the glass globe.

Glass sculpture

The gardens were spread out along the length of the buildings and showcased a beautiful water garden just outside the back door.  Reaching all the way into the sand dunes, the grass and gardens were spotted with natural wood formed outdoor furniture.

Fountains at the Dunes  Dunes Lawn furniture

We sat watching the gardener dead heading flowers, clipping stray branches here and there and moving the watering hose from patch to patch. Love these moments of quiet peaceful downtime.

Wooden outdoor furniture and gardens   Flower Gardens in the Dunes

Flower Garden

We exited a different door on our way out.  The steps were decorated with ducks of all sizes, some costumed, some naked but wearing boots.   Ducks at the Dunes

We took the long way home to LilyPad and then the three of us meandered along the edge of the bay to stretch our legs before confining ourselves inside for the remainder of the day and night to do the necessary humdrum household chores.  Dinner, TV and sleep.

Low Tide Cornwall Charlottetown KOA

Another early rise for our drive to Charlottetown Prince Edward Island (PEI), our destination for the day. Visiting a church, a lobster roll for lunch, window shopping through town and down to the docks, maybe some PEI mussels and back to our little bay side corner of peace and tranquility.

I wasn’t expecting hot weather so after our multiple block stroll through the historic shopping area of Victoria Row, we slipped into St. Dunstan’s Catholic Church, named for the Anglo Saxon saint from Glastonbury, for a quiet sit down and cool respite.

St. Dunstan's Basilica, Charltontown, PEI   St. Dunstan's Basilica

Next door sat the Board of Governor’s House. We didn’t enter but enjoyed the architecture from a bench outside.

Board of Governors House

Dave’s Lobster, a small fast food style restaurant near the wharf, was promoted as the best lobster rolls in Charlottetown so we were off in search of lunch. Walking down to the wharf at noon, right on schedule, we split a lobster roll.

Roaming around the wharf, enjoying the sea breezes while window shopping, made me hungry for more lobster. Our next restaurant choice was a re-visit from a cruise we took up the New England sea coast several years ago. I had a disappointing miniature, overcooked lobster tail. John had lobster poutine, a yummy meal of perfectly crisped French fries, a generous portion of cheese curds and lobster pieces with the entire mound coated in white seafood gravy. John willingly shared his huge heaping meal of heaven on a plate.

Poutine is a dish born out of rural Quebec in the 1950’s that consists of three ingredients: fries, brown gravy, and cheese curds.  We were delighted with our first taste while in Quebec many years ago.  Variations range from additional ingredients to a flavor choice of gravy.  Fattening but excellent and a must try when in Canada.

Walking back to our car, we took a detour into the first place I had ever enjoyed a chocolate covered potato chip while exploring from our New England coast cruise.  We walked from the ship to this shop.  They call them Cow Chips and yummy is an understatement.

Chocolate covered potato chips

We drove home and took another walk along the bay ridge with KatieBug before days end.

The bay, mid tide

After our uncomfortable crossing into Canada, tonight we typed all items needing to be declared and took out all things not able to pass through into the United States. Red bell pepper, frozen peaches, frozen nectarines, frozen cherries, avocado, all unable to enter the United States. It became our hodgepodge dinner and breakfast before leaving Canada. Unappealing as it was in combination, we washed it all down with the rest of the wine and whisky, also not allowed to cross back into the US without fees.  No need for pain patches tonight.

Sad to leave our fantastic water view site and knowing our return to the states meant returning to workamping, I kept busy along the way taking pictures of signs, personalized for Canadian weather conditions and wild life situations.

Slippery when  Exit signs

A slightly different twist than those in the U.S., moose crossings, moose warnings, temperature warnings,

Slow for moose   Moose warnings

and can you believe the price of gas in Canada?

Gas prices

It’s a total bubble buster when you find out, in Canada, gas is sold by the liter.

Another tell tale sign you are in Canada is the overabundance of Tim Horton’s, Canada’s answer to Starbucks.

Tim Hortons coffee house

Our crossing into the United States was much more pleasant than our crossing into Canada. They asked us a few questions. Their response, when we told them we had a few bottles of liquor was, “a small bar?” We said yes, they said, “no problem” and “welcome home”. Whew. Next stop was Ames Brook RV Park in Ashland New Hampshire. One more week of retirement before we return to scrubbing bathrooms.

Our overnight was at Wally World RV Resort in Bangor Maine. We joined the dozen or so campers already set up, wandered around Wal-Mart until we were tired and dinned on Wal-Mart purchased frozen Lean Cuisine.

Walmart, Brewer ME

A few weeks prior, we had driven by Ames Brook, where we would be staying. We already knew which site was ours.  Down gravel roads, sites of grass and gravel pads, shade trees surrounding us but none overhead. The perfect combination of shade without leaves or nuts pinging down on us or slapping LilyPad upside the head and clogging her slides and roof vents.

After setting up camp we scouted out the area. Down one side street we spotted Bernsen Art Gallery located in Ashland Maine. It occupies the 1849 Ashland railroad freight depot.

Bernsen Art Gallery

The artist, Bill Bernsen, describes his work as “found object art and assemblages”.  His elderly fur baby stayed close by his side.

Bill and his fur baby

The metal art is amassed in a storage barn, spilling out into his side yard adjacent the depot. One interesting piece of metal assemblage is called “Eleven Saws”. When you count them, there are only 10. In a play on words for the title, the 11th is that you “saw” the art piece.

Works in progress    Outside metal art

Fun and fanciful, the bicycle built for two was my favorite.

Bicycle Built for Two

The outside explored, we stepped upstairs to view the interior gallery. Before entering, I paused to enjoy the whimsical faces hanging on the sliding wooden barn door.

Whimsical Faces

We stepped into a room with highlighted walls displaying an interesting departure from cold hard metals. Back lit and suspended were a half dozen wood relief pieces, a complete about-face from inflexible metal to malleable organic materials. A thoroughly enjoyable display.  When our visit came to an end, we thanked Bill for the experience and drove on to explore more of the area.

Wood Relief      Bernsen Wood Relief

Back to our campsite to make ready for our night out at The Flying Monkey venue. Tonight we will dine while enjoying a concert with the fabulous Big Bad Voodoo Daddy band. We were delighted with their performance at the Mitchell Pavilion in The Woodlands and were excited to relive the experience. Dinner was decent but nothing special. The concert was entertaining but lacked the lively jitterbugging troupe of groupies who had danced at the front of the Mitchell Pavilion stage. Still, the music was marvellous, totally worth the cost.

The Flying Monkey

Comfortably in our relax mode, we noticed a poster advertising the New Hampton Open Air market down the street from our campsite. Early up the next morning to check out the produce and eggs, all the while being serenaded by Blue Grass music. Tomorrow, for breakfast, we shall dine on just picked sautéed veggies and newly laid scrambled eggs.

New Hampton Farmers Market

Our farm fresh breakfast cooked, eaten, and dishes cleaned, we drove to The Tilton New Hampshire concert series sponsoring the Rockin Daddios DooWop acapella quartet. The audience was mainly oldies with a few children twirling around at the foot of the stage. Songs were from my teen era, John’s young adult years. Even KatieBug enjoyed our sit-back-and-relax afternoon.

Rockin Daddios DooWop, Tilton

Two more days of tranquility. Looking up Best Breakfasts on line, we chose The Heritage Farm Pancake House.

Heritage Farm Pancake house

Everything is served family style and most of the tables will seat a huge family with room to spare.  The dining rooms were inside upstairs, inside downstairs, outside on the front porch and outside in the massive barn.  A petting zoo occupied the field behind the barn.

Barn seating at Heritage Farm

There were so many people arriving who ended up in the kitchen helping, I had to wonder why…until I saw two young men in white shirts, black dress pants and ties sitting at a table in the small entrance dining area, bible open, discussing the Good Book. When the young men finished their chat, they got up, walked outside to the porch and began clearing tables. Shortly afterwards, they paused to sit and speak with a couple who had just finished breakfast. After we had enjoyed our breakfast and were on our way out, the young men had settled in with another couple at a corner table and were in a deep concentrated discussion.

I’m not one to believe in the afterlife making contact with us down-on-earth folks, but in the moment, I was struck with an eerie thought. Perhaps finding this religious country farm restaurant was not an accident but a sliver of cosmic payback. Cheryl, a dear childhood friend of mine, passed away a few years back. Cheryl had become a Jehovah’s Witness as an adult and often requested me to accompany her to one of their services. I refused although she kept asking. When she had left this earth, I was sad to have put this small favor off for so long. Perhaps a spirit had guided us to this particular restaurant. I could almost hear her deep Jolly Santa laugh and imagine her watching to see if I got the connection. Not in life but in afterlife, she might have drawn me to the people of her church. My Chunky Monkey pancake was fabulous. Thanks Cheryl, and yes, we still miss you!

In preparation of our drive up Mt. Washington, we visited The Museum of the White Mountains at Plymouth University. The museum was hosting an exhibit dedicated to the women who used the mountainous region to explore their talents and creativity, uninhabited by the constraints of urban life.

The first European to ascend the mountain was Darby Field in 1642 but women played a sizeable role, shaping and popularizing the White Mountain region using art, first- hand accounts, clothing and photographs.

While we walked through the museum, one of the curators approached us, mentioning she had also attended Chico State, referring to the Chico State T-shirt John was wearing. It amazes me how many “small world” examples we stumble upon while rolling across the US of A.

Another quiet night, waking early the next morning to be on the road for our climb up Mt. Washington. John wanted to drive to the top and explore, so after paying the drive-up fee, popping in the accompanying CD and shifting to low gear, we crept slowly up the Mt. Washington Auto Road, America’s first manmade attraction. The audio tour was interesting and the ability to stop at pull-outs on our way up, allowing us to stretch our legs and backs, was much appreciated.  Our first pause and stretch, the tree line.

Mt. Washington Tree line

Cairns, stone piles placed along hiking trails, are noticeable from every direction at the pull-outs where there are trails. From prehistoric time to the present, they are often erected as landmarks but on this mountain, they are signs stating someone has passed this way.   You can see the ski slopes in the distance far below.

The ski slopes down below

Fog floated across the lower mountain areas but by the time we had reached the 6288 foot summit, the skies had cleared considerably.

Mt. Washington, NH

From the summit, we watched dozens of ant size hikers begin their wind down the trails.

Hikers along the trails

Mount Washington, called Agiocochook by some Native American tribes, is the highest peak in Northeastern United States and the most prominent mountain east of the Mississippi River. The mountain is notorious for its erratic weather and has a plaque mounted near the historic Tip-Top House revealing top wind speed of 231 miles per hour recorded on April 12, 1934.

Highest Wind on Mt. Washington

Mount Washington State Park is a 60.3 acre parcel perched on the summit of the peak. It is surrounded by the extensive 750,000 acre White Mountain National Forest. On a clear day, you can see as far as 130 miles to Vermont, New York, Massachusetts, Maine, Quebec and the Atlantic Ocean.

The historic Tip Top House is the former hotel in Mount Washington State Park. It is the oldest surviving building on the summit of Mt. Washington and believed to be the oldest surviving mountain-top hostelry in the world. When we visited, it featured exhibits of the mountain’s hotel/hostel history.  The rock walled building, with tiny windows and claustrophobic rooms,  was so dark, pictures were not attainable.

Tip Top House

Our drive down the mountain was uneventful, stopping along the way to stretch and breath in the fresh air. It’s been a welcome and relaxing stretch of days here in Ashton New Hampshire but our workamping job is calling us back. I am thankful and grateful for all the fun musical events that kept us entertained and the quiet shaded campground site located near a multitude of interesting areas to explore. We have booked a return, in late September, for another week of relaxation before taking the long and winding road leading us through Canada, South Dakota, Alabama and finally back to Texas.

Our last day of relaxation and the “It’s always something” demon struck, the first of many to follow.  When rinsing the black tank, full attention to the job is necessary. Not paying attention results in the tank overfilling with black water (toilet waste water), bubbling up into the air release pipe, overflowing and pouring down behind our washing machine.  John had set his watch alarm but didn’t hear it go off.  His first clue that something was amiss was me screaming “water is splashing down behind the washer”!  After stopping the water flow and beginning the long clean up process I thought…damn I miss lunching with my girlfriends and being able to bitch about the dumb ass things our husbands do. Go ahead and laugh…everyone else might as well appreciate the humor of our rolling comedy of horrors. If the third time is the “charm”, it had also better be the absolute last. Once again, I was not amused.

Arrived mid-day at Wellington, backed up into our site, settled down for the night, sleep. Up early, time to return to another five days of sweating for us oldies, dislodging mud and grimy gritty beach sand from old toilets, showers, sinks and floors, the heat and humidity trapped inside the old worn out wooden bath houses with only screened windows and a door to allow in air.  Our cool down ritual continues, piecing together the jigsaw puzzles in the rec center, both barn doors open wide to capture any breeze.

Temperatures in Lee New Hampshire were not what I expected. My thinking was the closer we were to Canada, the cooler and less humid the weather. Not so.  Last year and this, the locals claimed they were experiencing the hottest most humid summers in history. It seems Texas heat is determined to tag along with us where ever we go.

Our next escape, when our work week ends, will be local entertainment and a visit with family.  And now…back to what normal people never refer to as “retirement”.

June 24th through July 27th 2016 New Castle New Hampshire, Portsmouth New Hampshire, Stonington Maine, Wells Maine, Lee New Hampshire, Bar Harbor Maine

The craggier the coast, the more I enjoy driving beside the rocky ridges delighting in the gorgeous views of the sea. After working our first stretch of days, we day-tripped along the coast exploring.

Our leg-stretch stop was Fort Stark Historical State Park.  At the mouth of Newcastle Harbor, it is a work in progress and includes a beautiful beach area with benches and picnic tables.  Most everything else, with the exception of the Ordinance Machine Shop, looks like the storm battered and still abandoned areas of New Orleans from 2005’s Hurricane Katrina.

Fort Stark State Historical Site, Newcastle Island, ME  Newcastle harbor

The Fort is named for John Stark, Commander of New Hampshire forces at the battle of Bennington in 1777. It was headquarters of the 22nd Coastal Artillery and one of seven forts built to protect Portsmouth Harbor as fortifications between 1890 and 1920.   The Harbor Entrance Control Post was surrounded by chain link fence.

Harbor Entrance Control Post

The Ordinance Machine Shop contains artifacts from WWII and is open on Saturday, not the day we chose to visit, but the rest of the Park grounds are open to wander and climb around and explore during daylight hours.

Ordinance Machine Shop 1910

The 1904 Battery Bay’s and Battery Hunter were stripped of their contents and bared.

Battery Bays    Battery Hunter 1904

I managed to find a picture on the website showing what the gigantic guns looked like that were resting in the circular cement wells.

Battery gun   Original gun

Across the water stands the Whaleback Ledge Lighthouse which was loosely erected in 1830 at the mouth of the Piscataqua River near the Maine-New Hampshire boundary.

Whaleback Ledge Lighthouse, 1830

I say “loosely” because it was so poorly built that keepers were worried the building would be swallowed up by the sea.  Nothing proves the government’s inability to function for “the good of the people” as blatantly as botched government contracting jobs.

The lowest bidder, a contractor who cut corners deceitfully and shamelessly, won the bid and Congress was forced to accept it without regard to the company’s qualification or competence. Right off, the contractor began without leveling the ground, instead filling gaps with small stones. When the first storm hit, the stones were washed away leaving the foundation sadly lacking. The first light keeper became soaked each time a wave hit the lighthouse.

The tower was given several facelifts, even incased in wood “to prevent the keeper from being drowned out by the sea washing through all the crevices.” In 1838 funds were appropriated by Congress for a breakwater. The architect’s advice was to tear down the structure and start over as no breakwater could secure the present structure. The money went unspent and the structure stayed as built.

In 1839, a local newspaper wrote: “such was the effect of the sea, that the assistants of the keeper could not hear each (other) speak when in the lantern, on account of the noise produced by the shaking of the apparatus in the lantern, when the sea struck the foundation of the light house….the reader may form some idea of the unenviable situation of the keeper…during the late storm from the fact that the building is situated on a ledge of sunken rocks, only visible during low water and about a mile from the nearest human habitation.”

A civil engineer was commissioned in 1842 to survey several New England lighthouses. His description of the pier read, “rudely and fraudulently constructed”, large swells shook the lighthouse “in the most alarming manner. The keeper asserted that the vibration was so great as to move the chairs and tables about the floor.” The lighthouse was plagued with dangerous structural problems until it was automated in 1963.  We haven’t visited and it’s not high on our list of “to-do’s”.   

After our coastal exploration, we drove back to Portsmouth and enjoyed a late seafood lunch.  I loved the interesting metal sculpture art that dressed the plain brick walls of the café where we dined.  A short drive home to ready ourselves for another five day work cycle.

metal art at a pub

There are times it is imperative that I escape the dust that billows over everything multiple times a day, setting off my lungs and a tirade of explicits about the downsides of our rolling life. Escapes, coupled with an overnight hotel stay, usually quells any obnoxious retorts I might make to John’s “can’t you just enjoy this adventure?”.

Of late, our workamp positions do not begin to approach an adventure.  Adventures are fun, do not smell like poopy toilets, you don’t have to put up with rude people or do chores in suffocating heat nor pouring rain.  You can stop whenever the fun stops and at days end you are able to enter a large pleasant room and run gallons of water over your hair and body without ever giving thought to overflowing the grey tank, refilling the fresh water tank or having to remove moisture from the room to prevent mold and mildew growth.

 

Another work day.  Muggy, hot and dusty outside. I cleaned the bathrooms, checked them several times but spent most of the day inside with both Austin Air Filters on full blast to cleanse my lungs of the dreadfully damaging dust.  Eric Fadden’s article titled, “Here’s What That Post About Taking a Train Across the USA for $213 Doesn’t Tell You” caught my eye. I read quietly while cars drove back and forth inches from our front steps sending relentless clouds of dirt particles flying through the air and raining down on Ribbit and LilyPad.

The article made me think of all the folks who have said to John and I, “we want to do what you’re doing when we retire”. I might be compelled to write a book entitled, “Here’s What Those People Who Live Full-Time in a Recreational Vehicle Don’t Tell You”.

 

We have been here several weeks and although my imagination has a tendency to run wild and I am prone to exaggerations, the dust here is undeniably horrid and abusive to lungs.  At 4pm John sprayed down the road with water and washed the thick coat of dust from the car. By 8am the next morning, the dust was so thick you could not see inside the car.   I wrote on the window to make my point.  There is no way to stop the dust.  It’s a loosing battle.

4pm thru 8am dust

Our volunteer routine is now established.  Another work cycle finished, we made plans for our first multi-day escape to the town of Stonington on Deer Isle in Maine.  When we return, John’s options are to move me to a less dusty site or we leave.  Enough is enough.

It’s not easy to find an acceptable hotel for the three of us. Bangor is the largest town, within easy driving distance of the coast, with a respectable hotel having comfortable beds for a few overnights. Stonington was the location of another workamp position we had considered. A visit there was at the top of our To-Do list. From Google Maps, Stonington appeared to be a small lobster trapping village on Deer Isle with just enough town to provide a reason for window shopping along the main thoroughfare.

Round Pond Fisherman’s Lobster Co-op came highly recommended so after a few hours driving, we stopped for a rest and enjoyed a late lunch perched alongside Maine’s coast.

Round Pond Lobster Fishermens Co Op  Round Pond Lobster

The menu was simple…fresh steamed lobster, steamers (long neck a.k.a. Ipswich clams), sweet corn on the cob and potato chips. Located on the docks in a cove filled with lobster boats, when the owner runs out of lobster, he walks 20 yards to the ocean, pulls some out of his lobster traps, walks back and pops them in the pot. Fresh lobster done right! I can’t describe the taste without my mouth watering. Fresh sweet tender lobster, crisp luscious buttery corn, succulent steamers dunked in butter and crunchy salty chips, I have found Nirvana.

Lobster traps  Lunch oceanside

Seated at a picnic table on the dock, a peaceful view with gentle slightly briny breezes, made this our best meal of the year.   Our tummy’s full, we drove inland to the hotel. A pleasantly green treed and blue skied drive along the way.

Coast of Maine

We arrived, checked-in, unpacked and relaxed. Dinner out, back to the room, early to bed.

Sleeping late was the plan. Excitement cancelled our first plan.  We rose early to see the potential workcamp position for next season.  Breakfast first, KatieBug snug in her “black hole” and we were on our way.

Linda, the other camp host, has named KatieBug’s crate the “black hole”. Annie, her sweet tempered dog, is allowed to run loose inside the her camper and never destroys anything. If we let KatieBug run loose while we were gone, she would shred every piece of paper in the motorhome and pee everywhere to pay us back for leaving her alone. She’s never minded staying in her crate and goes willingly when there are fireworks, while we work or when it is bedtime. She is less stressed when we travel because her den is always nearby.  She has her cozy safe haven crate in Ribbits and in LilyPad.  To some, a black hole.  To KatieBug, a secure comfy den complete with TV or radio and snacks.  As the saying goes, to each his own.

Stonington was one and a half hours away. Crossing over Deer Isle Bridge, we paused to stretch our legs and check out the view.

Bridge into Deer Isle

One quick side step along the main road was to pick up fresh goat cheese with cranberries. We chatted about the area with a local and inquired about the best place for a repeat to-die-for lobster meal.

Yummy goat cheese

Stonington is a small, quaint, quiet town with many of the endearing qualities of Angela Lansbury’s Cabot Cove. We rolled down the windows and sucked in the refreshing salty sea air. After a few minutes, inside my mouth took on the essence of fresh seaweed salad.

Cove in Stonington

It took 45 seconds to drive from one side of the town to the other and nothing looked interesting enough to warrant an exploration on foot. Most of the shops had not opened for the season and the sidewalks were desolate. Our lunch was a meal of overcooked steamed lobster, it’s tail heavy with grainy tasting lobster eggs.  Considering Stonington’s claim to fame is the largest lobster port in Maine, the meal was disappointing.

Stonington, ME

After lunch we drove to the campsite.  Surrounded by marsh, primarily old mobile homes and one or two older trailers, John quickly nixed the position.  As usual, the web page painted a far superior picture than the truth.

Onward to the only TripAdvisor suggestion that caught our attention, Nervous Nellie’s Jam and Jelly’s with its lure of Peter Beerits’ original handcrafted art.

Located just shy of Nellie’s, we paused to admire a French Citroen H Van from the 1940’s along with a red and white 2CV Citroen and a few other French auto’s. Nice collection. They were displayed in front of a massive 1800’s mansard style home that sat next to the town church.

1940s French Citroen H Van

 

Neither of us expected to spend the greater part of two hours at Nervous Nellie’s but upon arrival, we were immediately drawn in by Peter Beerits’ artistic visions.  Sculpture Park

Inhabited by fascinatingly configured wood and metal beings, the town was populated with human characters,

A sinking ship  Attorney  Cafe

sea creatures and critters,

Critters and creatures  Dog out the window

beasts and mystics.

Dragon

His colony of beings took up residence in a compact hamlet with his Robin Hood community fanning outward into the Sherwood Forested woods behind the town.

When we arrived, Peter had some of his elder citizens seated in the back of his truck. He graciously posed to allow me a Kodak moment while we chatted.

Pete and his Seniors

The towns Old Wild West residents were so surprisingly personable that we wandered around poking into each building, thoroughly enjoying the exhibits.

Hardy’s General Store

Hardys General Store

Johnson’s Market

Johnsons Market

One of the flyers on the wall of Red’s Lounge was advertising the coming of Howlin “Mad” Perry, of historic Sun Records fame in Memphis Tennessee. It brought back memories of our tour of the studio back in late April 2016.

Reds Lounge    Howl N Mad Perry

The joint was seriously jumpin’!

Blues Joint

We stopped in at the store where jam and jelly jar samples sat waiting on the counter, enticing guests to slather the sweet spread on crackers and savor each flavor. The walls were decorated with dozens of interesting handmade items for sale. A Texas size screened in rear covered porch overlooked the grounds. It was transformed into a tea room for those wishing to sit-a-spell and relax in the moment.

Exiting the side of Nellies store brought us face to face with Sherwood Forest.  The forest harbored a troop of merry men dining and other fanciful residents like the Grim Reaper.

The dining room   Grim Reaper

Sir Gawain, sitting horseback, was guarding the forest.

Sir Gawain on War Horse

Just beyond Sir Gawain, a giant serpent reared up his ferocious metallic head.

The Serpent

The resident shaman stood outside the dining hall.. According to Wikipedia, the shaman is “a person regarded as having access to, and influence in, the world of good and evil spirits, especially among some peoples of northern Asia and North America. Typically such people enter a trance state during a ritual, and practice divination and healing.” Somewhat akin to Witchdoctors, familiar to us from numerous trips down side streets in New Orleans Louisiana, this healer had a likeable face and pleasant grin.

The Shaman

This venture was Peter’s lifelong dream and entirely fitting for a talented imagination with a phenomenal knack for artistically assembling salvage. John and I strolled the forested area spying dozens of parts in wait for new beginnings. I could envision creatures emerging from aged engines, fragmented toys, abandoned appliances, fractured furniture pieces and items others might consider plain junk.

Waiting for new life

At the forest exit stood a jolly Jack in the Box.

Jack in the box

I walked around the grounds twice, noticing more each go-round. It is truly an amazing art exhibit in an idyllic setting for Peter’s creative mind and artistic abilities.  As we drove off the grounds we noticed one last character, the local blacksmith, glancing up from his work as we drove away.  Nervous Nellies was the highlight of our Stonington Maine mini escape.

Blacksmith

The sun would set in a few hours and we had a long drive back to the hotel. KatieBug settled in for a snore fest, she being as tired as the both of us. A long shower, a little TV and a good nights sleep finished up our three day adventure.  Time to return to our “real world” and finalize our decision to move or leave.

We have requested another site and Pat has agreed that she would rather we move “upstairs” to a less dusty location, keeping us as workampers.  Our move will take place in the next few days but our focus is on the next five day tour of duty.

Daily chores consist of John weed whacking in the morning and then we both sweep, scrub floors, sanitize toilets, clean showers, wipe down mirrors, water the hanging flowers and blooming in-ground plants that are spread out around the campground.  Several bathroom checks and cleanings throughout the day, walks around the campground and beach picking up trash and cleaning fireplaces, some odd jobs, a sprucing up of the Rec Center and the day ends.  Next day, ditto everything.

Portsmouth New Hampshire is only a twenty minute drive from Lee. It is a thriving touristy town, bona fide historic and filled with curio shops, fine dining establishments, pubs and gift shops. The town church takes center stage and is surrounded by benches where visitors and townspeople alike sit, rest, relax and people watch. John and I enjoy walking around the town and we have visited twice since our arrival.

Today we move.  We plotted our path carefully and found that backing up into the site was the best and most logical plan.  John asked our neighbor across the road to move his truck, just in case, and I backed LilyPad up the steep grade road and into our new site.

Our new site

Exited the motor home and chatted with our new neighbors.  A truck drove by…wow, no dust!  Next day we emptied both our tanks…amazing, we have a leach field so both our tanks can be emptied anytime we choose. This is much better.  Brought my bright red plant up from the downstairs site and found a surprise tag-along, another Ribbit (frog).

Frog in my plant

Tonight we plan another day trip.  Searching for local activities, we came across the Rachel Carson Wildlife Refuge in Wells Maine.  Also home to a Triple D’s (Diner, Drive-In’s and Dives) top pick for Lobster Rolls and Lobster Bake.  A wonderful adventure of much appreciated exercise and a relaxing lunch.  Our next mini escape chosen, we slept soundly and awakened to a perfect day for a walk along Maine’s coastal waterways.

Lunch at the Maine Diner was not what we expected.  A Lobster Bake is lobster covered in dry cracker crumbs, drenched with butter until the crackers are soaked and baked.  Greasy and chewy, not something we will order again.

The refuge was created in 1966 but renamed for Carson in 1969 after her 1962 book, Silent Spring, became renowned.  After tireless investigations, she linked the unrestrained use of post-World War II chemical pesticides with fearsome biological consequences.  Carson has been credited with launching the environmental movement and awakening concern in American’s for our environment.

Rachael Carson National Wildlife Refuge

The book gave explanations and examples on subjects close to my heart, pesticide harm and the alternative, Integrated Pest Management, using non-toxic or least toxic products first when exterminating.  She was the reason I became an Environmental Health Consultant.  Her insight on the cause of damage to ourselves and our environment started the movement in which I eagerly grabbed with both hands and embraced for nearly 40 years.

We visited the small Visitors Center and strolled along the path.  You could see how the tidal flats striped away the soil from the roots of trees causing them to tilt.  Each incoming and outgoing tide carrying out more soil.

Bank erosion

The salt marsh creek snaked out to sea.

Salt Marsh Creek

Salt Pannes have a complete eco system all their own but getting up close and personal was not possible from the walkway.

Salt Pannes

The coastal Maine salt marsh was visible all along the footpath.

Coastal Maine Salt March

Near the end of our walk we spotted the only blooming plants we saw in the refuge.

The only blooms in the marsh

Back home to LilyPad and a quiet night with a Red Box movie and dinner.

Next morning I went shopping for the kids party I was hosting in the Rec Center Saturday afternoon.  Prizes brought from the dollar store in Texas would be given out along with juice, ice cream and cookies.  I had planned a few games and social time.  The party was my idea and I was in charge but Pat liked the plan and showed up to help.  Parents were enjoying the squeals of delight during races.  Everyone cheered the kids on during the “hunt for gold” (rocks sprayed gold that John hid in the playground area).  Dads helped make the rockets for the rocket races on the lawn and joined in to blow up balloons for the between-the-knees balloon race.  Everyone made hanging bird feeders from peanut butter and bird seed.  Prizes were not given out for winners.  First prize for Musical Chairs went to the first one out, the largest and smallest gold piece got a prize and by the time we were done, everyone went home happily with at least one prize.  I had a blast!  Families even helped clean up.  My next event will be an outdoor “movie and popcorn” evening for the kids at our motorhome co-hosted by Lindsey, one of the campers.  Finally, some social time for me and our outside TV will get some use!

 

Another trip up the coast is in the making.  Bangor hotel reservations have been made for us and KatieBug’s reservation at Yellow Dog’s Barn are confirmed.  Wednesday we are off to Maine and Acadia National Park to explore the area.

The drive up was sunny and mild with cooler weather being pushed inland off the coast.    We were searching for an alternative campground should we decide to pass this way again.  My requirements were a campground closer to Canada, in an area with cooler weather, a friendly setting with social activities and where rules were enforced.

Our first stop, but not one availing all that we were looking for, was Forest Ridge Campground.  If a delightfully named road was enough reason to stay the season, this would have won.

Forest Ridge Campground

A few more stops at the campgrounds on our list and dinner time had arrived.  Steamed lobsters at Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound, the same restaurant we visited while on our New England cruise several years ago and the food was just as yummy.  Back to the hotel for some TV and relaxation.

We have only three TV stations at Wellington.  We paid to have internet so we could stream movies but the choices at Red Box are newer and less expensive so we binge watch TV programs all night when we stay at a hotel.  Another luxury we enjoy at a hotel, hour long steamy showers.

Morning brought the fog and a cool refreshing mist, my kind of weather.  We walked around downtown Bar Harbor, stopped for Mexican Hot Chocolate at Choco-latte, a local coffee shop and waited for the rain drops to stop.  Not wanting to spend the entire day downtown, we made the decision to ignore the weather and drive through Acadia National Park.  This year is the Parks 100th birthday.

The Park roadways and trees were heavy with moisture making the dense forest a little spooky.  No one else was on the road so we had the park nearly to ourselves and the ability to stop anywhere without annoying tourists crowding us.

Roadway in Acadia   Acadia

A pause along the way to watch for wildlife, the fog continued to cover the area and hid whatever was beyond the murk.

Acadia national park

Not the first to arrive at the highlighted natural wonder, Thunder Hole, we parked and walked down the rocky steps joining others in wait for the incoming tide to force the ocean into the rocks below and shoot sea water into the air.  After several big waves and still no eruption, we walked back to the car and continued our drive through the park.

Thunder Hole

Acadia National Park is a long one-way road that meanders across beach fronts, through forests and up into the mountain.  John insisted that we continue on to the top of Cadillac Mountain, 1,530 feet and the highest point along the North Atlantic seaboard.  It is the first place to view sunrise in the United States from October 7th through March 6.  The view was as logic would predict, foggy.

On a clear day you can see forever.  On a foggy day you can see little else but the sign advising visitors of the detriments of air pollution.

Not a picture perfect day

Back down the mountain and out onto the main road.  I spotted an interesting antique house turned business and stopped to explore their wares.

The Weathervain Factory, Trenton, ME

The inside of Bar Harbor Weathervanes and Cupolas, Inc. was filled with delightful weathervanes of all sizes, shapes and styles, some sitting atop copula’s, some lining the shelves along the walls.  Shiny copper pretties to mount on your rooftop.

weathervanes   When pigs fly

Everything under the sun

We chatted with the clerk and took a calling card for future reference.  My next tiny house will look fabulous topped with a weathervane.

Owl and moon

As the day wore on, thoughts of another sweet tender lobster began creeping into my subconscious mind.  Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound was a short drive up the road.

Trenton Bridge Lobstah Pound

This time John opted for one big lobster, hard shell, pre-cracked.  We had been told by several lobster eating regulars that the larger the lobster, the more chewy the meat.  They lied.  This guy was delish!   We also learned the taste difference between soft shell and hard shell lobsters.  Hard shell is harder to crack, has firmer meat and the meat fills the shell.  Soft shell has molted its hard shell, is easy to crack but the meat is softer and water fills up the extra space inside the shell.  I will forever be a fan of the hard shell.

Our Dinner

Another great night of TV and uninterrupted sleep before packing up and returning to Wellington.  KatieBug was happy to be home.  I wasn’t happy to be back at work.

Three days into our five day work schedule, Linda emailed me from Maine to ask if she could stay gone another week in exchange for working our shift after she returned.  Had I known it was going to be 99 degrees in Lee, storms would shut down our power twice in one week and our car’s air conditioning would break, I might not have agreed.  The hardest part of working back to back was having the power off several times.  No generator on the well pump forced John to use buckets of river water to flush all of the campground toilets.  Nasty job.  John lugged the first few bucketful’s up from the river by hand.  The next time he used the campground truck.  Not having a back up pump was another thing we wish we had known about before we accepted the job.

So instead of a break, we went back to work.  The wheelbarrow and I spent two days moving all the rocks from the demolished site across from us.   There would be sand and gravel brought in later to make a level base for the newly cleared site.  Slowly, bending from the knees, I removed all but about 5 rocks, those being heaver than I was comfortable lifting.  I piled the rocks in a line along our campsite for a future project.   The site of an old grey haired pudgy lady moving wheelbarrows full of rock all day must have been too much for Ron, the gentleman living behind the site.  When I took a dinner break the following day, he came out and tossed the balance of the big rocks aside and raked the area smooth.  Nice neighbor.

Moving rock

Some of my time, in-between cleaning, was spent moving cement blocks from partial fireplaces into piles.  Today I got to build one.  It was such a structurally sound and artistically designed fireplace, if I do say so myself,  that I had John take a picture of my masterpiece.

My Fireplace creation

Storms pounded us for several days, our car being in the shop made our chores even more unpleasant but our trip to Canada was just around the corner.  Linda will return and we will leave in the motorhome for a two week break on Tuesday.

May 14th through May 24th 2016 Beacon New York, West Point New York, Lee New Hampshire

Upon arrival at the only campground within an hour drive of Beacon New York, the New York City/North Newburg KOA in Newburg, we settled into our site, long level gravel, full hook-ups and friendly neighbors. The ride in was bumpy with bug swarms because of the small lake at the entrance but we are only here for two nights so full hook-ups are our only necessity. Plans are to meet up with our Texas friends for dinner tonight and the four of us will connect in the morning for a tour of West Point.

With KatieBug guarding LilyPad, we drove through rolling hills and giant oak lined roadways to the picturesque town of Beacon, NY. Blue skies, puffs of white clouds, green trees and grass, pops of color hanging from baskets and in patches on the ground, the result of Spring plantings. Multifold buildings still standing from the 1800’s, many of them carefully repurposed into shops, businesses, non-profits and café’s. We enjoyed visiting the town last year and our return evokes pleasant memories of friends and relaxation.

Located on the Eastern shore of the Hudson River, the town is a rather petite hamlet with enough to do and see within walking distance to earn the description of “cozy”. An hour from New York City, it is close enough to transit for employment but far enough away to distance oneself from big city life, big city stress and big city prices.

An outdoor paradise in seasonal weather, the town is near tree shaded hiking trails in and around Mt. Beacon Incline Railway and hike and bike paths along the Hudson. In town and along the outskirts of town, opportunity for exercise is abundant.

We arrived and met up with our Texas friends, dined out at a local restaurant and socialized after we finished eating, relaxing and chatting away the dinnertime hours, then returning to LilyPad before dusk to enjoy a quiet going-to-sleep-early evening.

Morning arrived and we were off to the Town of Highlands in Orange County New York for a tour of West Point. Founded in 1802 by Thomas Jefferson and George Washington, West Point, a.k.a. “The Point” is a military school on a 16,000 acre plot of land on the western bank of the Hudson River. Its graduates are predominantly engineers and after graduation, typically serve as Army officers. Striving for well-rounded cadets, all were expected to earn excellent grades, attend all classes and be present in church. After General Douglas MacArthur became commandant, inclusion in sports became compulsory.

West Point, NY

West Point houses the campus of the United States Military Academy, West Point Cadet Chapel, The Old Cadet Chapel, Cemetery, Visitor Center and museum.

Abrams Gate Entrance

Our tour was partial bus ride, the balance, relaxed walking. Our guide referred to the tour as the Boot Camp Tour, meaning for us, welcome leg stretches and much needed exercise. Our first stop was the West Point Cadet Chapel.

West Point Cadet Chapel    Inside West Point Cadet Chapel    Chapel Alter

The church serves to welcome and provide spiritual support to West Point cadets, staff and faculty. Until recently, attendance was required but there are still large numbers in attendance each service, something expected considering cadets and soldiers who enter have been, or will be, “in harm’s way”.

We boarded the bus and drove to the Old Cadet Chapel, built in 1836, the first house of worship at the Academy. Originally located near the cadet barracks, the chapel was removed from the parade grounds to be reassembled, piece by piece, in the West Point Cemetery. It was relocated in 1911 with funds raised by the cadets. The focal point of the Chapel is an impressive half circle mural above the alter titled, “Peace and War” by Robert W. Weir, Professor.

Peace and War

Inside, positioned in orderly lines up and down the walls, are plaques and unusual memorabilia of outstanding Generals of the Revolutionary War, George Washington being placed at the head. In the far rear, above the railing of the choir loft, is a plaque dedicated to the infamous Major General Benedict Arnold, his name defaced, the plaque showing only his rank and date of birth.

Major General Benedict Arnold

Outside were the cemetery grounds. We walked reverently through the tranquil grounds, stopping at several grave sites to hear a story about the hero buried there, a service the deceased had done for our country or an interesting piece of historical information. It was pointed out, although already noticed by most, that some graves were father and son, some father and daughter. There were even a few grandfather, son and grandson graves. One alone is sad enough but how unbearable, unimaginable and heart wrenching is the sight of three losses especially if all were taken at early ages.

The Cemetery

The Mission Statement of the West Point Cemetery is to: “deliver the Final Salute to those members of the US Corps of Cadets, its Faculty, Staff and those West Point Graduates who have dedicated their lives in the service of this nation. We strive to commemorate and memorialize these Graduates and to care for their final resting place in perpetuity. May it be said, “Well done; Be thou at peace.”

Cemetery older headstones

Sylvanus Thayer, class of 1808, was a former Superintendent (1817-33) and considered to be the Father of the Military Academy. President James Monroe ordered Thayer to West Point to become superintendent of the Academy. Under his administration the Academy became the first college of engineering in the nation.

Thayer established traditions and policies still in use today at West Point. Values of honor and responsibility, strict mental and physical discipline, the demerit system, summer encampment, high academic standards and requiring cadets to maintain consistent outstanding military demeanor and appearance, all attributed to Sylvanus Thayer.

Leaving the Army in June 1863 with the rank of Colonel in the Corps of Engineers, he spent the majority of 30 years as Chief Engineer for the Boston area. He oversaw the construction of both Fort Warren and Fort Independence to defend Boston Harbor.

He died on September 1872 at his home in Braintree Massachusetts, his remains were removed from South Braintree Massachusetts and re-interred at West Point Cemetery.

Sylvanus Thayer

In 1879 the legendary Custer statue was unveiled. George Armstrong Custer arrived at West Point in June of 1857 with 107 other cadet candidates and made the whittled down cut to 34. Making friends easily, he excelled in socialization. The rules stated that during a six month term, one hundred demerits resulted in expulsion. Our tour guide told us that Custer was rowdy as a cadet, playing jokes and pranks, earning near expulsion amounts of demerits. He would attain upwards of ninety each semester. When he had reached near the limit, he would apply himself until the new semester started, not allowing further demerits to accumulate.

Never for anything significant, the trivial offenses included trifling in ranks marching from parade (3 demerits), calling “Corporal” in a loud and boisterous voice (3 demerits), hair out of uniform at guard meeting (2 demerits), late to supper (1 demerit), throwing snowballs on barrack steps (3 demerits). Although he was smart enough to achieve high grades, he lacked the drive and discipline, no doubt why his parents thought West Point would help him improve.

Graduation nearing, his emerging personality exhibited no signs of a willingness to control his mischievous behavior and being no more disciplined, he ran up ninety-seven demerits, a record for him, in his last semester. He graduated with his class in 1861, ranking 34th in his class of 34 graduates.

After graduating, he set out to locate the Second Cavalry. Custer excelled in battlefields and had been a hugely successful leader until his last stand.

George A. Custer

We paused at the headstones of General William Childs Westmoreland,

General William Childs Westmoreland

and H. Norman Schwarzkopf

H. Norman Schwarzkopf

and Major General Daniel Butterfield. When Major General Butterfield’s grave marker was completed, West Point enacted standards for size allowances of markers.

Major General Daniel Butterfield

After leaving the cemetery, our bus took us to the Battle Monument overlooking the Hudson River.

The Hudson River

In 1897, the Battle Monument was dedicated by Civil War veterans who paid for the monument through their pay and donations. Names of the officers and soldiers, 2,230 of the Regular Army, are inscribed on the monument.

Civil War Battle Monument

Next to the monument, a grassy knoll displays an array of cannons. Those cannons planted in the ground, facing downward, were from the battles of the civil war, buried so they could never again be fired.

Cannons buried pointing down    Display of cannons

The parade area is exactly what it suggests…a super-sized field where the cadets march and “parade” by officers and guests in the stands.

Parade Grounds leftParade Grounds right

Accepting its first female cadets in 1976, the U.S. Army recently announced that Col. Cindy Jebb will be the next U.S. Military Academy’s Dean of Academic Board, which makes her the first woman to hold this position in West Point’s history.

While we stood waiting for our bus, a convoy of Army troop trucks passed us by, loaded with Cadets leaving for Summer Maneuvers.

Cadets

The United States Military Academy’s mission is to educate, train and inspire the Corps of Cadets so that each graduate is a commissioned leader of character committed to the values of Duty, Honor, Country and prepared for a career of professional excellence and service to the nation as an officer in the United States Army.

Depositing us back at the visitor center, we enjoyed a late lunch with friends. Tired and pollen impaired after the outdoor “Boot Camp Tour” we said good-by. I felt a migraine creeping up from the high pollen counts and overpowering bus bathroom deodorant odor and hoped a rest would allow us to join up again for dinner but it was not to be. John did the packing as we readied ourselves for our seasonal workamping experience in Lee New Hampshire. After nearly a month, our last day on the road.

I Love New England and its abundance of historic houses, although in my humble opinion those stately granite stone homes in Pennsylvania do give Victorian, salt box and Mansard styles a run for their money.

Pennsylvania stone home

 

It is mid-week and we have arrived at our home for the next five months, Wellington Camping Park in Lee New Hampshire. I knew before accepting, this workamp position would be located in a vintage family run camp, dirt roads and homesteaded primarily by seasonal families. I was assured by the former workampers that the people were friendly, the campground was nice and the roads were not dusty. Two out of three ain’t bad. Absolutely Texas Friendly. Nice is a relative term…the entire campground is in a state of total transition. As far as dusty, my answer is given in my strongest Texas accent. “Hell yea, it’s a gigantic dusty dirt ball”.

The campground I saw in Google Maps, had the appearance of your typical trailer trash neighborhood dwellings, more closely resembling a backwoods Georgia hooch distillery camp than a family campground so expectations were met as we drove down the dusty rutty road into the camp. Two levels of small decades old trailers with handcrafted wood or metal roof coverings and wood porches, a hodgepodge of tents, trailers and motorhomes, all tucked under shade trees and along the river.

Our site at Wellington Camping Park

The owner, Pat Wellington, runs the family encampment with a can-do attitude. She will be in your face if you even hint of ignoring the rules. For all of her petite 5 foot frame, she is one spunky senior lady and has no intention of allowing seasonal families to slip by without paying their proper dues. The camp offers reasonable seasonal rates, recently installed 50amp hook-ups and free pump out service, free use of the paddle boat, kayaks and canoes complete with life jackets and inexpensive dry wood for campfires. Her children and grandchildren respect her as the reigning matriarch and decisions are primarily made at her judgment call.

Upgrading began just recently and she has taken on the job of removing the primitive mid-20th century “trailer trash”, cleaning out barely standing and abandoned trailers covered by blue plastic tarps and their accompanying rotted porches and decks. We see her daily out in the park carting away whatever junk she can manage to lift, then instructing the maintenance man to haul the rest to the dump.

Between her family, take-down crews and workampers, the sites are being cleared, one by one, piece by piece, hauling off dead appliances and beds, her sons using the backhoe to crush the various colors of wooden porches into kindling and the campground truck to haul it all to the dump. The family works with a Titan’s determination, all pitching in to complete whatever needs to be done to transform Wellington into a respectable 21st century seasonal campground. Several abandoned sites are on the chopping block. This one will come down next week.

Next to go down

This one is down to the final bare bones removal, the camper will be pulled out and sold as junk.

coming down

Currently the park is inhabited primarily by seasonal families, some living full time, some only on weekends. There are two sections of the park, one down the hill by the river (downstairs) and one up the hill near the open field (upstairs).  We are downstairs.  The park is a mixture of campers who have been returning here for decades, linemen workers who live on the grounds until the job ends, transient weekend campers and the three workampers.

First on the itinerary, before setting up the inside, was to ward off evil creepy crawlies that might sneak inside, chew wires, bite humans or fur babies. Armed with several bottles of granules that promised to ward off spiders, rats and rodents, I sprinkled the area. Squirts of scented oils were used as a backup in case the granules didn’t work, non-toxic sprays around the outer boundary of the motorhome to discourage insects and some fox urine on surrounding trees to discourage badgers and skunks. Fingers were crossed in hopes that anything lurking nearby was met with a fitting discouraging smell.  John set up our mouse trap buckets bated with organic peanut butter. Moderately confident that we were protected, we set up camp and relaxed for the night.

Next morning our mouse trap buckets were completely stripped of peanut butter and unusually large fang marks had pierced holes in the plastic. Hmmm, probably not rodents.

what big teeth you have

We dumped the buckets and scrapped the idea of peanut butter lures for catching mice. No reason to send out invitations encouraging creatures, outfitted with big sharp teeth, to visit our motorhome.

Searching the internet we learned that this immediate area is inhabited by bear, moose, coyotes, skunks, badgers, squirrels and chipmunks. Additional menacing crawlers are ticks, ants and spiders, an overabundance of them, with flying attacks coming from mosquitos and biting gnats.  Thrown into the mix are large quantities of poison oak hugging the trees, a constant generous dusting of pollen, dirt roads billowing dust and smoke from campfires giving us that “total camping experience” for our five month stay in New Hampshire. The “experience” was joyous as a scout leader with my Girl Scout daughter and Boy Scout son.  As a a senior, it comes nearer to unbearable.

When John hooked up the sewer, we discovered that we did not have full hook-ups but two underground tanks. They held only enough for one “dump” of our black and grey tanks. We would need the “honey wagon” twice a week. Unexpected but survivable with careful scheduling of showers, dishwashing and clothes washing.

The bathrooms are old but serviceable, wood, plastic and screen, all in one stage or another of needing a patch or repair. When funds allow, the owner plans to build new facilities.

downstairs bathrooms

There is a large recreation hall attached to the upstairs bathrooms near the children’s play structure, volley ball net and horseshoe pit. It has a small kitchen area, fridge, picnic tables and a pool table inside. The walls are covered with pictures of camping families spanning more decades than I have been alive.

Rec Center   DSC_1269

The camp is located on the banks of the Lamprey River, the trees provide a cooling sunscreen.  Canoes, paddles, life jackets and a paddle boat are free for campers to use.

Our canoes and kayaks

Beach chairs line the river beach area.

Our Beach

John made mention that “lamprey” was an evil name for our river. It wasn’t until I looked up the word “lamprey” that I added it to the list of things I could do without seeing…ever. The internet picture below is of a river lamprey. The article states that a river lamprey can’t attach itself to anything but I think I’ll skip going anywhere near the water just in case.

Picture of a lamprey

We were here several days before we began to understand what was expected of us. There was no training, no meeting, no welcome pot luck.  We work 30 hours in five days, then have nine days off. Our alternate Workamper host is Linda, a single woman living in a small class C camper with her Yorkie mix fur baby. Charlie is the lone maintenance man who helps with removing junk from abandoned sites and does what he can to keep things repaired around the campground. John enjoys working with Charlie on projects and it provides us both with a little breathing room.  I bought a hanging plant to brighten up our site and Pat bought me ground plants to enhance my little patch of color.

Site 5

Good Morning Sunshine! Cough, cough, wheeze, cough, cough, wheeze…dust rises up and covers us and everything surrounding our site, multiple times a day. The site is large and roomy but sadly, we are located inches from the main road loop by which everyone must enter and exit. Our motorhome and car have a thick coating of brown dirt, mixed in with the yellow tree pollen that even the heaviest of rain storms did nothing to strip away.

Our car each morning

Feeling grateful and thankful for “Oh Wonderful Hubby of Mine” who sprays down our road at least once a day to keep the dust quenched. So far, the dust has been mightier but we keep trying. Each morning we wake up to more dust and I have a feeling it is a losing battle.

With all that floats in the campground air, I plan to spend most of my days indoors and as many hours as possible near Portsmouth New Hampshire inhaling the cool salt sea air and cleansing my lungs.

I don’t do Spring well. My lungs object to sky high pollen counts and windy days blow pollen off trees and plants and force them into every facial opening in my head. We usually leave Texas just before Spring and follow blooming trees, grasses and flowers to our final destination, traveling for a month or longer. A maximum amount of multiple drugs offer modern medicine a shot at keeping my lungs clear but unhappily the drugs severely curtail my ability to balance. I am left with lungs that are huffing and puffing while I teeter-totter along. John kindly allows me to use him as a cane whenever we are enjoying outside activities together. I will continue to push myself to do things that are joyful, especially with the companionship of people we like or when there is a possibility of an exciting adventure.  I shall remain determined to enjoy as much of the journey as possible, pushing health to the edge, but hopefully never again over. I don’t do sick well either.

My first day on the job was spent removing spider webs from all the bathroom bare wood ceilings, cleaning bathroom toilets, showers, sinks, wood floors and pulling up weeds from the horseshoe pit. John raked up leaves and cleaned off plastic campground chairs, weed whacked and helped clean toilets. After 4 straight days of pulling weeds for several hours each day in the heat, the horse shoe pit still looks like a weed patch.  Another losing battle.

Our five workamping days at an end, we bought and used our first New England Groupon, a local winery tour and tasting.  Driving through the town square we saw banners announcing Lee’s 250th birthday.  The square is circled by well cared for and preserved early 1800’s homes.

Lee, New Hampshire

Our Groupon was for two tours and tastings at Flag Hill Winery.  The sales/tasting room is a converted 1800’s dairy barn, beautifully repurposed and restored.  White wine is their premier crop but their reds were lite and easy drinking.  They also make liqueur but it was somewhat sharp for my palate.

Flag Hill Winery

Flag Hill’s old vines are near the road we travel over each time we go for groceries.

Flag Hill old vines

Another nearby main road has a sign that made us both do a double take.  This sleepy little town has a nudist park.

Lee Nudist Park

The Country Western song “What was I thinking”, plays repetitiously in the background of my brain.  Music, even in my mind,  calms me and helps to quell the disappointment felt at having taken another workamp position with unhealthy breathing conditions.  Plans are being made for our first get-away, an escape to the seaside, complete with soothingly cool salt sea air.

Someday I will purchase a crystal ball and see if my gypsy blood can detect the negatives of future workamping choices floating through its orb before we accept.  Something has got to work, asking point blank questions does not.  It may be a slightly odd way of getting honest answers but I’m willing to try anything once.

Tomorrow we are off to coast of Maine!  KatieBug will be resting snuggly in her travel crate, the car will be dusted and wiped down inside, we will gas up and be on our way, ready to relax and recoup.  This is the fun part of travel.  A new place to explore, fresh air to breathe, no dust, nothing to fix, dump or clean for three days.  Yea ocean!

May 2nd through May 13th, 2016 Chalk Hill PA, Mill Run PA, Ephrata PA, Lancaster PA, Hershey PA, Lititz PA, Blue Ball PA, Intercourse PA

On our way to Pennsylvania Dutch Country we paused for a tour of two Frank Lloyd Wright homes, Kentuck Knob in Chalk Hill and Fallingwater in Mill Run Pennsylvania. The homes were located within a few miles of each other. Our overnight for this off- track visit was Hickory Hollow RV Park. To reach the campground it was necessary to wind through steep hills, down narrow roads, and cross several bridges with signs warning “no trucks over 10 tons”. White knuckling it with fingers crossed, we rolled over several holding our breath and hoping that our 20 ton heft didn’t collapse the small bridges.

Arriving safely we pulled into our partially shaded long level site and set up for the night. Our site was on the ridge, no one else as neighbors, with views of the tranquil rolling hills and peaceful fishing lake. When night arrived, it was pitch black with tiny piercing white stars covering the sky. After an overload of travel stress, we slipped into an evening of pure relaxation.

Hickory Hollow Campground, Rockwood, PA

There were a few small downsides to the campground, low water pressure and muddy grounds from the storms, but the area was clean and neat, the staff was friendly, the facilities were modern and nights were quiet. I suspected that our exit, a tight turn on an uphill slant, was going to be problematic but I would worry about that later.

 

Bright and early next morning, we set off to visit the two Unitarian Style homes designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  Alongside the road we spotted a beautiful covered bridge, Kings Bridge, built in 1806.  It is a 127 foot 4 inch long Burr truss bridge.  I was surprised to find it had an asbestos covered gable roof, although it would have only been a danger to those who built the roof.  Love the design and how well these covered bridges have held up over the centuries.  The bridge crosses Laurel Hill Creek.  It is one of 10 covered bridges in Somerset County.  If we were staying longer in the area, we would search them out.

Kings Bridge 1802  Kings Bridge interior

Arriving early with the dew still on the ground, we walked around the visitor center at Kentuck Knob.  As is standard with Frank Lloyd Wright’s homes, no pictures are allowed inside.

Kebntuck Knob Visitors Center

Kentuck Knob was designed in 1953 for the Hagan’s and their 80 acres of land. They lived in the home for almost 30 years. Owners of a major dairy company, they were friends of the Kaufmann’s, owners of the nearby Fallingwater home, also designed by Wright, and were frequent guests. The Kaufmann’s helped convince Wright to design a home for the Hagan’s, as even at the age of 86, he was still much in demand.

Back side of Kentuck Knob    Little Fallingwaters

The 240 degree L-plan house, based on a module system, curves around a courtyard and blends into the land’s contours.  Wright wanted the first impression of the house to have the appearance of it emerging from the ground and nestling into the hillside.

Kentuck Knob car port

The hilltop, a few yards south of the home, has a magnificent view of the valley.

Valley view from Kentuck Knob 1  Valley view from Kentuck Knob 2

In 1986 Lord and Lady Palumbo of the UK bought the property, using it as a vacation home. The couple occasionally use the home for entertaining but since 1996, they allow the public tour program to continue, a method of historic property management common to Britain.

One of the notable features of the home were the hexagon shaped windows allowing light to come through the overhang on the long rear porch.  The picture below is compliments of the website.

Hexagon skylights

Lord and Lady Palumbo have a substantial collection of large scale art pieces located along a half mile trail called “Sculpture Meadow”. Beginning near the stunning valley overlook behind the house, and ending at the Visitors Center where we were parked, the perfect weather and interesting pieces made for an enjoyable purposeful walking exercise through the forest.

Kinetic Art                                                 Bailey Sculpture

Kinetic art    Bailey Sculpture

De Creation Sculpture                              Troilus Tortoise bronze sculpture

De Creation sculpture     Troilus tortoise bronze sculpture

Untitled Sculpture                 Berlin Wall Section              Apple Core Sculpture

Untitled sculpture     Berlin Wall Section   Apple Core Sculpture

The Kaufmann residence, also known as Fallingwater, was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1935 for Edgar J. Kaufmann, owner of Kaufmann’s Department Store.

Fallingwater by Frank Lloyd Wright

The home was built partially over a waterfall on Bear Run in the Mill Run section of Stewart township and the multi-level home has direct access to a swim deck and swim hole just above the falls.  The entrance to the house was tucked away under stone columns and cement overhangs.

Fallingwaters water platform   Fallingwater side entrance

It was designed as a weekend home for the family. Wright designed a later addition, on a hill above the family home, as a guest home with a back deck that included a natural spring fed swim pool.  You can barely see the guest house over the top of the main house.

Layers of Fallingwater

While I was drawn to Wright’s earlier work, the older and more famous he became, the less I appreciated his architectural reasoning. Narrow dark entrances with low ceilings that opened up and made rooms look larger was appealing but his determination to have total control over the design went awry with several inconvenient features.

His insistence on low ceilings at the entrances left anyone six feet tall or over having to duck their heads to enter his homes. Another insisted design feature was the absence of screens. The intricately designed woodwork across opening windows allowed cross breezes to flow but also allowed in bugs and critters. Wright did not allow screens. He believed they blocked the progression of the outdoors into the indoors, despite the damage that resulted from entering crawlies and creepers. Many of the home owners sensibly added screens after the home was completed.

Built-in seating that stretches along walls and discourages intimate guest conversations was another odd feature. Both homes were owned by well-to-do families that entertained. The odd seating and small dining tables that have seating designed for only immediate family added to the clash, pulling the home’s purpose in opposite directions. The narrow stone passageways designed as halls were uncomfortably claustrophobic and kitchens were designed for preparation of small meals with little storage.

Mr. Wright would never have been able to complete an agreeable home design for John and I. He believed that everyone was entitled to his opinion but then, so do I. One of us would surely have ended up buried six feet under a solid cement foundation before the house was completed.

Near both homes is the small town center of Ohiopyle. It is quaint, sits alongside the river, is filled with small shops and eateries and is the center for dozens of activities and outdoor adventures.  Ohiopyle State Park’s 20,500 spectacularly scenic acres, the Youghiogheny River and waterfalls make this area a quality one-on-one experience with Mother Nature.  We had lunch in a small café across the street from the river and drove around the area sightseeing before returning to LilyPad to pack up and prepare for our early morning departure.

 

Our morning exit was complicated by the downpours that happened sporadically over the past two days. The rain produced wet grounds, wet grass and some areas of mud with less-than-perfect road conditions. It resulted in LilyPad sliding as we climbed the hill to exit the campground. Stopping each time the wheels spun, we inched our way up, thankfully without having to unhook the car, my teeth clenched tight throughout our sluggish climb and eventual exit. Relaxation, stress, relaxation, stress…there is always a roller coaster of emotions each travel day.

Storms across PA

Soon I will be checking off something on my Bucket List and am happily anticipating the experience the nearer we draw to our next destination. A visit to Lancaster, PA has been on my Bucket List for decades and shortly we will arrive. Reading up on both religious groups for a better understanding of each, the people and the area, was done nightly over the past week.

Wikipedia describes the Amish as a group of traditionalist Christian church fellowships with Swiss Anabaptist origins.  They are closely related to, but distinct from, Mennonite churches.  The Amish are known for simple living, plain dress, and reluctance to adopt the many conveniences of modern technology.  The history of the Amish church began with a schism in Switzerland within a group of Swiss and Alsatian Anabaptists in 1693 led by Jakob Ammann.  Those who followed Ammann became known as Amish.

The same source describes the Mennonites as Christian groups belonging to the church communities of Anabaptist denominations named after Menno Simons (1496-1561) of Friesland in what is now the Netherlands.  The early teachings of the Mennonites were founded on the belief in both the mission and ministry of Jesus, which the original Anabaptist followers held to with great conviction despite persecution by various Roman Catholic and Protestant states.  Rather than fight, the majority of these followers survived by fleeing to neighboring states.  Mennonites have become known as one of the historic peace churches because of their commitment to pacifism.

Although Lancaster , in the heart of Amish and Mennonite country, was our original destination, we settled comfortably in Ephrata at the Ephrata Elks Lodge, tucked between dozens of Shaggy Hickory trees and a short distance away from the Lodge.  It is an effortless drive to any town we wish to visit.

LilyPad under Shaggy Hickory Trees   Ephrata Elks Lodge, PA

Capturing the Amish on film, being mindful of their intense faith and strict adherence to traditions, is a delicate task and not easily accomplished as they are integrated within the county. They hold a fascination for myself and many other “English”, which is what they call outsiders. Their culture is marked by separatism and a rejection of modern technology even as they continue to thrive within communities that so passionately embrace individualism and staying connected to a state-of-the-art world.

We began our Amish adventure by traveling over roads that split fields of chestnut colored soil, dotted every so often by plain white houses and barns, all lacking “English” electrical pole and phone line attachments to their homes.  A red barn among the white buildings often implied a Mennonite farm.

Farmhouse laundry  White and brick red

Simple somber blue, white, tan and brown colored clothing, hand washed and hanging wet on outdoor clotheslines, were a common site.

Fields and farms

While driving along, one had to be watchful of horse drawn carriages touring briskly down asphalt roads, sharing lanes with motor vehicles.

Horse and carriage    Carriage on the Main road

Carriage at Shady Maple

Some even traveled down the road where we were staying.

Carriage passing our RV site

Teams of colossal horses, guided by a single farm hand, working in unison to drag plow equipment across fields, turning lush greenery into fertile tilled soil.

Farming the land   Horse drawn field work

Restaurants and grocery stores offered horse and carriage parking.

Carriage stalls in Blue Ball

Each of these scenes were all signs that we had truly entered Pennsylvania Dutch Country.

Our first excursion was to Hershey Museum in Hershey Pennsylvania. My keep-on-rollin-on mantra is: Just give me chocolate and no one gets hurt. Chocolate is my drug of choice. It has become a powerful tool in stress reduction or any other excuse I can dream up in order to bite into a square of my velvety addiction.

Milton Hershey’s chocolate factory provided affordable chocolate to all Americans but that was only one of his gifts to this country.

Chocolate Avenue

I had read about the Milton Hershey empire before we visited but didn’t realize how much was not included in the writings. He was a devout philanthropist, designing a company town that encouraged his employees to seek education, offering them a well-rounded life that included sports and the arts, availing loans for them to purchase housing, building swimming and sports facilities for leisure time and constructing a gigantic community building for offering a variety of events and gatherings. Hershey was one of the first successful planned communities. Neither he nor his wife had children and he left his fortune to the Hershey Industrial School, a home for orphaned boys which he founded in early 1900.

We drove through the neighborhoods where Hershey employee homes still stand.  Lovely homes, well manicured neighborhoods.

Employees homes

Hershey began his confectionary business with Lancaster Caramel Company which quickly became successful. Using the funds from the sale of his caramel company to build The Hershey Company, he established the Hershey Industrial School for orphaned boys with a Deed of Trust in 1909 and in 1918 he transferred the majority of his assets, including control of the company, to the Milton Hershey School Trust fund, renamed in 1951 to the Milton Hershey School. The school trust has 100 percent control of Hershey Entertainment and Resorts Company which owns the Hotel Hershey and Hersheypark among other properties. Milton took great pride in the growth of the school, his town and business, placing the quality of his products and the well-being of his workers ahead of profits.

The museum was a wealth of information about the chocolate making process.  Original manufacturing machines were displayed in several rooms along with the process used to make the chocolate and lots of interactive screens to keep the kids entertained.

There was a cocoa bean grinder,

Crushing cocoa beans

and the Hershey kiss wrapping machine.

Hershey kisses production

We purchased a Groupon for the museum that included a “drinking chocolate” flight.  Six different flavors and densities made from beans around the world.  From milk chocolate to dark chocolate, each had a different yet amazing flavor.   We left with major chocolate highs.

Chocolate Flights

Hershey’s Chocolate World was a short drive from the museum and the heavenly bouquet of chocolate filled the air even before entering the doors.

Hersheys Chocolate World

There was an enjoyable animated ride with funny singing cows,

Happy Hershey Cows

samples at the end of the ride and more chocolate than imaginable divided among dozens of rooms.

Chocolate overload

The M.S. Hershey private charitable foundation established in 1935 provides educational and cultural opportunities for Hershey residents. The foundation funds the Hershey Museum, Hershey Gardens and Hershey Theater.

The Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center was founded by an initial endowment of $50 million, a gift from the Milton Hershey School Trust to the people of Hershey PA. The teaching hospital has an annual budget exceeding the initial construction cost.

In 1912, the Hershey’s were booked to travel on the ill-fated maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic. They cancelled the reservations at the last minute, instead booking passage to New York on the German luxury liner SS Amerika. The loss of Milton Hershey would have affected generations of Americans and legal immigrants who benefited from his continuing generosity.

 

Another day, another town to explore. Today our pick is Lititz, a borough in Lancaster County. Founded by members of the Moravian church in 1756, its name was taken from a German castle near a village where ancient Bohemian Brethren’s Church had been founded in 1457. The historic picturesque downtown is filled with remarkably well preserved stone and wood buildings, some dating back several centuries. I would have no objection to living in any of the buildings, anywhere along the downtown streets of this fascinating town.

Homes on Main St in Lititz PA    Lititz farm house

Lititz is home to Linden Hall, the oldest all-girls boarding school in the United States. The school was founded by the Moravian church in 1746 as a day school, a decade before the borough was incorporated. An amazing stone building surrounded by beautiful grounds.

Linden Hall School

Our day started with breakfast at Tomato Pie Café, an eclectic urban style eatery in a vintage building. Friendly service, expansive menu, yummy food.

Tomato Pie Cafe

We walked along the downtown streets, window shopping until we found Julius Sturgis Pretzel Bakery and entered for the bakery tour.  I had read about the tour, it sounded interesting and indeed, was worth the time spent.  Founded in 1861, the bakery is the first commercial pretzel bakery in America. The smell of fresh baked pretzels wafted through the gift shop so we split a soft pretzel and covered it with spicy brown mustard, munching while waiting for the tour to begin.

Julius Sturgis Pretzel Factory

Although the exact origin of the pretzel is unknown, legend claims that around A.D. 610, Italian monks rewarded their young students with baked dough twisted in the shape of crossed arms. At that time, the traditional posture for prayer involved crossing arms over the chest, hands flat against the shoulders. The pretzel’s three holes represent the Holy Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Spirit and the bakery item became associated with good luck, long life and prosperity.

The Catholic Church dictated strict rules for fasting and abstinence during Lent in the seventh century so the pretzel, made of water, flour and salt, was an ideal food. These early pretzels were soft baked and were originally called “bracellae”, the later term for “little arms”, from which the Germans later derived the word “bretzel”. According to the church, the earliest pretzels were called “pretiolas”, meaning little rewards, and handed out by monks when their pupils recited prayers correctly.

Spreading across Europe during the Middle Ages, these pretzels were easy to prepare in ovens like the ones we toured at the bakery that are pictured below and pretzels were commonly distributed to the poor as a way of providing both spiritual and literal sustenance.

Baking Ovens

Our tour guide taught us the original meaning of the shape of the pretzel, allowing us to use raw dough while she explained each step. First, roll the dough ball out to the length of the dowel, approximately 12 inches.

Pretzel making

Second, bring ends up to form a “U” representing a child’s prayers going up to heaven. Third, cross the ends of the dough to form an “X”, then twist one time. This knot represents the union of marriage between the child’s parents. Fourth, pull the ends of the dough down and press them into the bottom of the pretzel. The three openings represent the Christian Trinity. The shape also resembles a child’s arms crossed in prayer.

John's Pretzel

We accepted our complimentary packages of hard pretzels, bought another soft pretzel to share and continued walking around town.

Just before reaching our car, I spied the word “chocolate” on an old building across the street. We were not leaving until I had a taste of what was sure to be stashed inside the Wilbur Chocolate Company.

Wilbur chocolate Company

Purchased by Cargill Cocoa and Chocolate North America in 1992, the company was founded in 1865 by Henry Oscar Wilbur and Samuel Croft in Lititz, where most of the Wilbur brand was produced. It is one of the four brands manufactured by Cargill Cocoa & Chocolate North America. The parent company produces hundreds of millions of pounds of chocolate a year and sells to dozens of manufacturers throughout the Americas.  The museum held a wall of molds for brick chocolate and many of the names were immediately recognizable.

2 pound chocolate molds

Cargill cocoa and chocolate labels include Peter’s Chocolate, bought from Nestle in 2002, Gerkens Cacao and Veliche Belgian chocolate. Cargill closed the Wilbur Chocolate Factory in early 2016 officially ending Wilbur’s celebrated 125 year old tradition of chocolate making in Lititz.

Happily for us, they kept the gratis Candy Americana Museum that tells the story of the company and how their chocolate was made.  They also have free samples.  Hooray for samples!   Although they closed the factory, workers hand fill chocolate molds for sale in the store.

Speciality mold making

We strolled through the exhibits and I paused in front of the full wall of dainty porcelain antique chocolate pots, exquisitely designed.  I inherited my mother’s antique chocolate pot set and I am amazed that something so delicate survived for so many centuries.

Chocolate Pots

The museum also included a room full of tins and boxes, molds and chocolate miscellaneous.

Making Wilbur chocolate  Wilbur Molds

Here is an interesting fact for your Trivia file. The Wilbur Bud was introduced in 1893 and closely resembles the Hershey’s Kiss which debuted in 1907. Although both are chocolate and both are wrapped, doesn’t it seems strange that one is well known and the other almost obscure considering the close proximity of their manufacturers?  Lititz is a mere 20 miles from Hershey.

Hershey kisses      Wilbur Buds

After sampling our fill of chocolate, we drove around while I picked out a few dozen houses where I knew I could live happily ever after. I pretend we will buy a house in one of these towns and John plays along. It works for my imagination of home ownership and John’s lack of ability to buy a sticks and bricks home.  I must admit, if I had been to this part of Pennsylvania before living in Boston, I would have lost my heart to the charming little town of Lititz.

Returning to LilyPad for the evening, we made plans to rise early and attend a local farmers market.

 

It was an overcast day, perfect for wandering through the indoor market and outside stalls. Roots Country Market and Auction in Manheim Pennsylvania is the oldest single family-run country market in Lancaster County. It began as a poultry auction in 1925 and over the years, has evolved into a part of Lancaster County’s heritage, offering fresh foods along with a large variety of handcrafted items for sale.

The country market was a jumble of bakery goods, cheese, fresh fruits and veggies, flowers, handmade baskets and blankets, fish, deli meats and fresh meats, jewelry, handmade wooden items, antiques and scads more, all temptingly exhibited under numerous roofs and spilling out onto the side streets. We didn’t go to the auction. Neither of us could think of a single item we needed badly enough to buy it by the box, and haul it around in our motorhome.

Root's Country Market and Auction

I had to be cautious taking pictures as most of the produce farm stands, dairy farm counters and meat merchant cases were Amish owned and staffed. I tasted everything that was available for sampling, all of it delightfully palate pleasing. Our special treat was a melt-in-your-mouth sticky bun from Michael’s Home-style Breads Bakery.

Sticky buns

We took home a selection of Amish homemade sausages, Amish homemade sauerkraut, Amish homemade goat cheese spread (a yummy Cajun spice and crab combo) and a small Amish handmade basket. Prices were low, quality was exceptional, the market was brimming with first-rate people watching opportunities and it ranked high up there on my happy camper meter.

cream cheese mixes     Root's veggies

We walked through several buildings.  At the end of one of the buildings sat a gentleman dressed to the nines.

Simply Santa

I must preface the meeting of this Lancaster county resident by stating that in The Woodlands Texas, our Santa ranked supreme among Santa’s. Search as we might, year after year, none compared to our Santa’s authenticity and exceptional Santa-like demeanor, until this exact moment.

I stopped to chat with this fascinating looking character who introduced himself to me simply as “Santa”. I visited with Santa, a.k.a. Louis Meevers-Scholte, for a while before I realized that his life was so full of amazing experiences and such a positive influence in the world, it would have been a genuine honor to have known him throughout his life’s journey.

Santa is as serious about the name as he is about the title’s obligation. He has been donning the Father Christmas suit for more than 45 years.

Santa Meevers-Scholte

Throughout the year he collects food and toys, about 3,000 gifts, to be distributed to the less fortunate homes and children for Christmas. Now in his 80’s he reflects on his life as a musician, lyricist, story teller and Santa. His book, “Look Only Upward – A Reason to Be Born” is his story, his travels through a lifetime. From snippets of his conversation, I began to understand how difficult a journey he had traveled.

His childhood life was one of sorrow and suffering during World War II in Nazi-occupied Holland. When he was 10, he was with his father, a Jewish member of the underground resistance, while his father was tortured and killed. Remarkably, he made his way to America and Pennsylvania while still a child. Years later he was able to bring over his Christian mother.

The bitterness for all Germans eventually faded as he lived and worked among the Amish in Pennsylvania. He became friends with them and credits the friendships that developed between them as the reason he overcame his hatred for Germans.

I thanked Santa, thinking to myself how infinitesimal most troubles seem compared to his lifelong struggles and how tremendous were his contributions to his adopted town. I walked back to our car and resolved to add reading his book to my Bucket List.

On a large parcel of land near the town of Ephrata sat a number of unique European style buildings, giant in size, a few being multiple stories high and all dull in color. The name on the side of the building nearest the road read, “Ephrata Cloister”. We were about to walk in the footsteps of German settlers who came to Pennsylvania in the 1700’s seeking spiritual goals rather than earthly rewards.

We bought tickets in the Visitors Center (picture on the right) which held articles that belonged to the Cloister and we watched a short film about how the Cloister evolved.

Museum store Shady Nook Farm   Visitors Center

The community consisted of celibate Brothers and Sisters and a married congregation of families making up one of the oldest religious cults in America.

Founded in 1732 and at its pinnacle in the 1740’s and 1750’s, the community of about 300 members worked and worshiped at the Cloister. Their lives were structured, orderly and benevolently guided by Conrad Beissel (1691-1768) founder and Superintendent of the Ephrata Cloister.  Conrad was one of America’s earliest composers of hymns and anthems, organizer and teacher of the cloister singing school and publisher of America’s first book of original compositions, the Turtel-Taube, 1747.

Dorm, meeting house

Born at the end of a century of devastating wars in Eberbach am Neckar Germany, Conrad was orphaned by the age of 8, learned the trade of baker and began traveling the region to perfect his skills. He encountered Pietists who met in small groups not sanctioned by the church to read the Bible and pray.

Eventually banished from his homeland by the government in 1720, he immigrated to Pennsylvania attracted by William Penn’s policies offering freedom of conscience.

Moving to the Conestoga area, he joined with the Brethren, an Anabaptist group who offered admission to the faith to those who had reached maturity. He was appointed leader in 1724. His radical ideas of Saturday worship and promotion of celibacy caused a split within the congregation and in 1728 Beissel withdrew his membership from the church.

Because of his charismatic personality, he attracted followers until 1732 when he left and sought the hermit’s life. Settling along the banks of the Cocalico Creek in northern Lancaster County, he was followed by like-minded men and women wishing to follow his teachings.

Beginning as a hermitage for a small group of devout individuals, the community grew to include nearly 80 celibate members supported by nearly 200 family members. Beissel’s theology, a hybrid of pietism and mysticism, encouraged celibacy, Sabbath worship, delaying baptism until the candidate reached maturity and a self-denying lifestyle.

Our tour guide walked us through several building, explaining and answering questions about life in the Cloister.  The meeting house (smaller building) was impressive, open, airy and light.

Dorm    The Saal, Meeting house

The Brothers and Sisters slept in small sparse rooms, in separate buildings, for no longer than 6 hours per night on wood benches with blocks of wood for pillows.  Their garments were plain and uncolored.

Sisters bedroom    Brothers and Sisters dress

The cloister provided room for families and their own dining room, not luxurious but comfortable.

Family house      Dining room

The families cooked, baked and helped with other needs of the cloister community.

Front of the bakery                                     Back of the bakery

The Bakery      Bakery house

Inside the bakery

Bakery Kitchen    Baking kitchen

Sisters dining hall and Sisters kitchen, minimal but sufficient.

Sisters dining room    Sisters Kitchen

There was limited industry.  They made their own furniture in the carpentry shop. Furniture making    Carpenters house

They spun the wool from the sheep they raised and wove their own cloth.

Spinning house and visitors bedroom     Loom room

Creative expression was encouraged and the cloister became known for self-composed A Cappella music, Germanic calligraphy known as Frakturschriften and a complete publishing center with a paper mill, printing office and book bindery.

Frakturschriften, German calligraphy   calligraphy room

The Cloister originally contained no less than eight major structures, dormitories or meetinghouses, several smaller dwellings, workshops and mills and a cemetery.

Back of the cloister   Cemetary

In 1745 an internal disharmony came to a head when there was a dramatic challenge to leadership posed by Israel Eckerlin. Israel was expelled from Ephrata.

In 1768, with the death of Beissel, the society quickly declined. His successor, Peter Miller, realized that the monastic life was no longer attractive to new generations. In a letter written to Benjamin Franklin he stated, “the mind of Americans is bent another way”.

Conrad Beissel Epitaph        Family Grave marker

The last of the celibate members died in 1813 and the following year the remaining members of the married congregation formed the German Seventh Day Baptist Church. Poor members of the church moved into many of the original buildings on the Cloister property and altered the spaces to fit their needs.

By 1929 the remaining church members living at the Cloister were in disagreement regarding the disposition of the site and its artifacts and took legal action against one another. In 1934 the court system revoked the incorporation charter for the Church at Ephrata and the property was placed under the care of a court receiver who sold the remaining 28 acres of the historic site to the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania in 1941. Restoration on the nine surviving original buildings began immediately.

We walked through the gift shop and museum before the tour and afterwards we walked around the property poking around inside the many buildings on the grounds. A full day under our belts, we returned to LilyPad relaxing under cover of the Shaggy Hickory trees.

 

John chose our next town.  Breakfast at LilyPad and then off to Intercourse Pennsylvania.

Intercourse, PA

We toured the back roads before stopping at The Amish Experience to ride in an Amish carriage and view Amish farms. After, we watched a multi-media show about Jacob, a young man going through Rumspringa, a time period in the life of youths where each is allowed to participate in “English” experiences until he chooses baptism within the Amish Church or leaves the community.   As a courtesy, I chose not to attempt taking pictures.

Back to LilyPad for dinner and a Red Box movie.  We remain, our entire stay, the only people camping on the peaceful wooded grounds of Ephrata Elks Lodge.

Pennsylvania brought another “Best of” to my list. Best Smorgasbord: Shady Maple Smorgasbord, Blue Ball, Pennsylvania. It was approximately 40,000 square feet on the restaurant floor with a gift shop of the same size downstairs.  Vegas style buffet supersized!

Shady Maple Smorgasbord

You may wonder why several of the towns in this area have unusual and somewhat provocative names considering the large numbers of puritanical residents.  Well, wonder no more!

The town of Blue Ball was named after a two century old hotel that was built in Earl Town.  The owner hung a blue ball on a post outside the hotel and called it “The Sign of the Blue Ball”.  Locals began calling the town “Blue Ball” after the inn.  In 1833, Earl Town officially changed its name to Blue Ball.

The town of Intercourse was founded in 1754. The community was originally named Cross Keys, after a local tavern. Intercourse became the name in 1814. The use of language during the early days of the Village may have resulted in the name change. According to the Village website, “The word ‘intercourse’ was commonly used to describe the ‘fellowship’ and ‘social interaction and support’ shared in the community of faith, which was much a part of a rural village like this one”.  And now you know the rest of the story.

 

Back to Ephrata to ready LilyPad for our departure and our next adventure.  We will be moving on to Beacon New York where we will meet up with friends from Texas and tour West Point together.

April 11th through May 1st 2016 Canton TX, Conroe TX, Galveston TX, West Memphis AR, Memphis TN, Nashville TN, Cave City KY, Loreto KY, Danville KY,

Our time at Mill Creek Ranch Resort in Canton Texas at the Texas Tiffin Owners RV Rally was informative, entertaining and 100 percent no stress, no strain, relaxation. We volunteered for several events and enjoyed a fun filled week of interesting RV seminars, informal talks about our Tiffin motorhomes, 50/50 cash drawings, nightly Door Prizes at the Pavilion and laid back comradery with new and old friends. John and I walked away with two great door prizes on the last day. We thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the experience.

Our prizes

There were pot lucks, several meals provided by the rally, breakfast provided and cooked by some of the men and a bar-b-q hosted by a vendor. One of the ladies hosted morning exercise walks and a wreath demonstration was given by a local craft shop. We participated in a motorhome garage sale and came away with several excellent books on tapes. Many of the attendees, including John, left items on the “free” table and we snagged another book on tape.

Vendors were in attendance to do recall work, repairs and upgrades. Our favorite Red Bay former Tiffin employee turned self-employed custom work guy, Brannon, came to do work for those who signed up. Our car battery died so we were overjoyed that there was a service vendor for testing and selling batteries along with a washing/waxing service and Aqua Hot service. Vendors stayed for the entire week working long hours to reach each attendee that requested their services.

Nearly 100 Tiffin motorhomes and their owners were merrily taking part in all that our grand Pooh-Bah, Richard King, so successful brought together. It was his first, and he claimed his last, rally coordinating project. But we plan to help sweet talk him into volunteering again. His yearlong work on the project produced excellent results. If he does it again, we will sign up immediately. Yep, we had that much fun!

It is April 15th and we will roll back to Conroe in the morning. Although I am unable to read while rolling down the road, one stop allowed me to browse an article in our motorhome magazine about an RV blogger who received a question from a family who wanted to full-time with four children and 2 dogs, using only their RV travel blog as income. Long story short, they were told it was not possible to make that size of an income from blogging. They believed a higher power would take care of them and their needs so they ignored all advice. It has been my experience, when a higher power avails to you a group of bona fide knowledgeable people, you should listen.  Wonder how that worked out for them.

Back to Conroe KOA, floodwaters nipping at our wheels, to wait out the massive storm and rising waters predicted to arrive in Houston and The Woodlands area in the next few days. We were extremely thankful that State Highway105 was above water during the flooding. Both of the other RV parks, where we have previously stayed, flooded either in the park or at the entry. Sometimes we catch a welcoming break from trouble.

We were able to have lunch with our friends, all retired employees of the company John worked with for 30 years, at Schilleci’s New Orleans Kitchen at Market Street in The Woodlands. Yummy.

Next night was game night with our friends from the bike club that John road with for 25 years. An excellent home cooked meal and several thoroughly relaxing hours with our “old fogies” game night group.

Somewhere in the distance Willie’s voice started softly crooning On The Road Again, louder still as we begin our slow roll to New England. Our first overnight is in Galveston, TX to visit with family who live nearby in Seabrook. Glad we found this place. In the dark of night, the waters near the dock are full of miniscule twinkling and blinking green organisms. The iridescent emerald Tinkerbelles floating under water are mesmerizing to watch.

Galveston Bay RV Park and Marina

We arrived in time to drown under major thunderstorms and endure severe weather alerts. After lunch with family, we sat quietly scanning the sky for tornados as the swift advancement of dark rolling clouds swooped in from the ocean. Storms and lightning are never a comfortable situation when living in a metal rolling box.

Storm rolling into San Leon

Early am, off and rolling onward to Texarkana RV in Texarkana Texas for an overnight, somewhat wet but not overpoweringly drenched. Tornado’s, large hail and strong winds are creeping up close behind us. Grocery shopping, TV and early to bed for another first-thing-in-the-morning departure.

Again with an early rising to be out of storms way. Having my fill of the Elvis experience while paused repetitively in Red Bay Alabama, we sought alternatives to Elvis and his Graceland for our stop in West Memphis Arkansas. We will have the waters of the Mighty Mississippi out our front window while spending two overnights near its banks. Surrounded by giant cement plants, gas and oil refineries, tug boats and their cargo all giving off foul odors, it came close to detracting from the long wide ribbon of graceful flowing waters.

Nighttime and rains came first, then the snow. Not the cold wet kind but the fluffy white floating-through-the-air kind that irritates noses and inducing sneezes, causes runny noses and itchy eyes. It is the snow that comes from Cottonwood Trees. Tree pollen was maxed out at the top of the charts, exactly what caused my lungs to give out last year, so we opted for indoor entertainment for the two day traveling respite.

Tom Sawyer RV Park is in a flood zone. The trees housed many tiny houses and on the ground sat several tiny houses on wheels. All the utilities are mounted sky high among the tree tops, all dead giveaways to regular flooding.

Tom Sawyer tree houses

We were given a peaceful end site with an exceptional water view.

Tom Sawyer RV, West Memphis AR  Mississippi out our front window

The waterfront is landscaped on both sides by stately old growth oaks. The river takes on a fairyland appearance at night, small white and yellow lights mounted on barges twinkle in strange patterns, flowing past just shy of the river bank.  During the day, the wide stretch of water dominates the view.

Tom Sawyer RV Park  Tug on the Mississippi

We crossed over the Mississippi River to Memphis Tennessee.  You can see the top of the Bass Pro Pyramid from the top of the bridge.

The Mighty Mississippi  Bass Pro Pyramid from the Bridge

Memphis is home to several iconic Blues, Jazz and Rock n Roll establishments, the hang outs and businesses of well-known musician superstars. Looking over our tour choices, we decided on Backbeat Bus Tours. The concept sounded interesting and a fun alternative to mundane canned speech bus tours. Each bus had musical instruments. Ours were two tambourines and a bucket full of tiny egg shaped rattles that sounded like rattle snake tails when snakes get ready to strike.

When the tambourines were given and accepted by one lady in front of us and one lady in back of us, I cringed, expecting a noisy racket for the whole ride. Catherine, our guitar player and entertaining informational guide began the tour and the sing along commenced. To my surprise, no racket, all jangling was in perfect timing with the guitar strumming. Who knew there were folks who could rock a tambourine?!

On the Memphis Bus

We began the tour at Beale Street in a bar, with me purchasing a scotch and water for John while he purchased the tour tickets. Drinking is allowed on the blocked off streets and on our tour bus.

Beale Street  Beale Street Memphis

One of the sights we drove past was The Blues Hall of Fame music museum that, until recently, was not a physical building but a listing of people who significantly contributed to blues music. The Blues Foundation began the list in 1980 but the actual building for the hall opened to the public in 2015.

Blues Hall of Fame, Memphis

At the end of our bus tour, we were dropped at Sun Studio for an add-on tour of the vintage recording studio that is still in use today.  The studio was opened by rock-and-roll pioneer Sam Phillips in 1950.  When the building that held the original broadcasting booth of Station WHBQ was being demolished, the studio removed it from the building, piece by piece, and reassembled it at the recording studio.

Sun Studio  Station WHBQ

The vintage museum displays items from historic and iconic music legends including Elvis’s high school diploma,

Elvis Presley Diploma

the original recording microphone, guitars and pictures of Elvis, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins.  It also displayed a vintage TV, radio and phonograph console.  Myself, and many others in the group, recognized the console as one like their parents owned when they were young.  The lone guitar has a dollar bill wedged under the strings on its neck.  Unable to afford drums, it was said that Johnny Cash used the “cash” to make the sound of a snare drum in his 1956 hit, “I Walk The Line”.

Studio guitars     z     Noise maker on Johnny Cash Folsom State Prison song

The studio is still being used by stars such as Ozzie Osborn and our guide was very knowledgeable about the studio’s history and the history of those who began the Rock-n-Roll era.

When our two-part tour was complete, Bass Pro Shops giant Pyramid, spied from the bridge towering over the Mississippi, drew us into its parking lot.

Bass Pro Shop Pyramid

When we entered the building, whoa, so cool! It’s gigantic inside! A store and multiple story luxury hotel, its décor is Disney-like with tiny lights, Louisiana swamp atmosphere and their trademark giant fish tank taking center stage. There is the ability to take an elevator ride to the top and walk outside the pyramid’s top, for a fee. Water venues with swimming fish and reptiles with huge flashing teeth squirm through the water on the base level.  John and I walked around, soaking in all the atmosphere. Definitely worth a look-see if you are in the area.

Inside Bass Pro

It is our last evening along the banks of the Mississippi river. Time to pack up and roll our way into Nashville.

We use Passport America campgrounds for evening stops along our way to a destination. It is a discount club for RV’ers. Park owners embrace the offer when they are a small park, do not fill to capacity, or want to attract more business. There have been times of pulling into these parks that I have wondered why it was Passport America. Tanbark Campground in Dixon Tennessee’s reason was obvious. Older park, lots of permanent residents, skin tight parking. We could see the whites of our neighbors eyes as they pulled into their site.

Tanbark Campground   close neighbors in Tanbark, TN

In route to Tanbark Campground we passed an accident on I40 West. A TDOT truck was paused on the side of the road while another worker was in front of the truck. An 18 wheeler didn’t obey the Move Over law and hit the TDOT truck and pushed it into the worker, killing the worker. The accident stopped the flow of traffic in the opposite direction for hours and we were witness to the obscene amount of 18 wheelers that roll down the road at one time.

I 40 East Bound

Shocking to see a 20 mile stretch of predominantly 18 wheelers at a standstill. Five hours later the flow was released.

Stand Still I 40 West Bound  I 40 West Bound mile 15

A quick grocery run, a restful quiet night at Tanbark Campground, come morning we were headed to Nashville. If you listen to The Highway, a country western music station on channel 56, you would think that Nashville is the new Las Vegas. The difference, a southern twang and minus the hordes of card snappers forcing skin flick pictures on unsuspecting tourists. Nashville’s The Highway claims that what goes on in Nashville, stays in Nashville. With all the trips we’ve taken to Las Vegas, there is a familiar ring to that statement.

With our enjoyable musical experience on the Memphis bus tour fresh in our minds, we opted for a comedic style musical experience in Nashville. This was an adult only tour, no one under 18 allowed. We were not the oldest on the bus but the songs were those of which most seniors would have familiarity. John and I had more fun than we expected. We knew the music, both of us being country western fans, and enjoyed all the little tidbits of funny comment that was tactlessly imparted by our two comedy guides.

Our Adult Nashville bus tour

We sang our way past many historic buildings, one being the Levitt Shell where Elvis first sang.

Levitt Shell

Our mid-way stop allowed us to stretch our legs and tour the famous Nashville Goo Goo Candy Factory,

GooGoo Factory, Nashville

and the Johnny Cash gift shop.

3rd Avenue, Nashville   Johnny Cash Museum, Nashville

Kudos to Devon, our musical guitar guide and his excellent rendition of past and present hits and the sharing of his engaging original song. By the end of the tour we were blasting music, and our voices, out open bus windows. Several of us vintage tourists began waving our arm back and forth out the windows in time to the tunes. Most excellent tour, completely obliterated the plain old, plain old.

Our overnight for Nashville was the Nashville Elks Lodge in Franklin, Tennessee. Huge parking lot, no hook-ups, silent night, fair weather days and an enjoyable visit with cousins. Next destination, Cave City Kentucky.

Franklin TN Elks Lodge

Arriving at Singing Hills RV Park and Campground in Cave City Kentucky we could tell we were near Amish/Mennonite families. Listed on our rule sheet: “Please wear shirts and shoes outside. Please do not wear swimsuits in public”. The campground was a cozy vintage style with a catch and release fishing pond and first-rate location.

The country side is beautiful and our drive through the national park turned up several pair of wild turkeys.

Kentucky   Wild Turkey in Kentucky

Mammoth Cave is a U.S. National Park, the longest cave system known in the world. The park became a World Heritage Site in 1981 and an international Biosphere Reserve in 1990. The cave system runs under its 52,830 acres and consists of over 400 miles of surveyed passageways, twice as long as the second-longest cave system which is located in Mexico. New passageways continue to be discovered so its length will extend.

Mammoth Cave National Park

Arriving at the National Park, we viewed the Visitor Center’s excellent display, watching a documentary about the first tour guides and the history of Mammoth Cave’s exploration. A time line, stretching as far back as six thousand years, reveals cane torches used by Native Americans and other artifacts, drawings, gourd fragments and woven grass moccasin slippers that were found in the Salts Cave section of the Flint Ridge system.

The historic entrance, surveyed and registered in 1798 by Valentine Simons, was exploited for saltpeter reserves. In 1812 the cave changed owners and Hyman Gratz mined for calcium nitrate on an industrial scale. An African American slave, Stephen Bishop, was one of the first to make extensive maps of the cave, named many of the caves features and led guided cave tours during the 1840’s and 50’s. After changing hands several times, Mammoth Cave National Park was officially dedicated in 1941.

After you purchase tickets at the visitor center, the tour starts at one of the outside pavilions. You board a bus, it takes you to the entrance of the cave and your Ranger lists the do’s and do not’s. The cave entrance was not what anyone expected. Not a gaping hole with bats escaping but a steel and glass revolving door designed to allow as little air exchange as possible.

Our Ranger    Cave entrance    Cave

The Frozen Niagara Tour, the shortest available, was our choice. We weren’t sure how strenuous the walk would be and how I would fair climbing a little over 100 stairs. As it turned out, the paths had rails, were easy to follow, it was the perfect length of time and even the small children in our group were able to enjoy themselves.  Several of us noticed green on the formations.  We were informed that it was from the heat of the lights.  Money is being set aside for LED lights to help the cave return to a more natural state.

Light results on the cave

A bit claustrophobic in areas and slightly spine tingling when lights were turned off temporarily to demonstrate complete darkness but the experience left me calculating a future visit with the intention of hiking the longer trail. Our Ranger was engaging and the formations were fascinating.

Cave (2)      Cave (3)

Exiting the bus you are directed to wash your shoes to keep White-nose Syndrome from spreading. In North America, as of 2012, WNS disease is associated with 5.7 million bat deaths.

Soapy shoe wash, Mammoth Cave

Another morning has arrived and this day will be a laid back day of exploration. We spied a junk shop, closed on Sunday, during our previous pass through town. Today the Olde General Store was open. The large wooden vintage warehouse and entrance was overwhelmingly stuffed with a mishmosh of everything no one would ever need or want.

Olde General Store

The porch contained rusted out, broken metal everything, in no particular order.

Front porch of the store

John noticed a sign near the door that brought a chuckle.

Signs on the front door

We entered to the smell of cigarette smoke, the gentleman behind the counter drawing in long drags and asking from where we “hailed”. When we answered “Texas”, he smiled and said “that’s OK, you can come in anyway”.

Inside the store   More inside the store

When my lungs had their fill of smoke, mold, mildew and dust, we exited calling back “Thank you” and continued our exploration of the area.

We took the Green River Ferry to Detweiler’s Country Store, a hardware and grocery store. So many wonderful days-gone-by items for the home and health. Not wanting to be disrespectful, I left the camera in the car.

Green River Ferry crossing

R & S Salvage Groceries, another Mennonite run business in Horse Cave Kentucky was our next stop. Our campground host claimed that they made the best doughnuts, fried pies and breads in the county. We arrived at a humongous 10,000 square foot warehouse filled with bulk dry foods, bulk frozen foods, deli meats, surplus and salvage goods and dozens of young workers busily tending the bakery, stocking shelves, cleaning isles and outside receiving. Again, the camera stayed in the car.

Back home to LilyPad to pack up and pull in, getting ready for our early morning departure and the continuation of our journey to Lee New Hampshire.

On our way to the Turnpike, buzzing slowly worked its way up to unbearable so we stopped at the roadside Lincoln Knob Creek Farm to let the car engine cool.  The buildings are not open to the public but hiking trails run through the farm.  The only other couple at the stop were the fully uniformed Family Motor Coach Association (FMCA) National Secretary and her husband strolling around the grounds.  Nice chat to catch up with FMCA events and stretch our legs.

Although Lincoln was not born at Knob Creek Farm, he admitted that the Farm was his first recollections.  In 1928, Hattie Howell Howard and her husband purchased the Farm to preserve the land and share the story of Lincoln’s early years in Kentucky.  To serve the growing number of tourists, they built the Lincoln Tavern which opened in 1933.  It is currently being renovated.

The Lincoln Tavern

The small cabin was made from logs of the original Gollaher Cabin.  Austin Gollaher was a childhood friend of Abe.  It is believed that Austin was responsible for saving Abe’s life when Abe slipped into the river and Austin pulled him out.

Gollaher Cabin

KatieBug enjoyed her walk, John and I relaxed and the car got a cool down break.  We climbed aboard and were off down the road.

That high pitched and annoying screech, signaling our car transmission pump is not working properly, is at it again. Unhappily, it has been going off approximately every 60 to 100 miles beginning with our trip to Canton Texas. I’m confident it will continue until we reach our destination in New England. It’s one of many “it’s always something” items that have never been completely repaired. Now on our fourth year of rolling, it is the hardest broken part to which I must adjust. Annoyances are always present but none have noise associated with their in-need-of-repair condition.

With Mammoth Cave a past event, we looked forward to Makers Mark bourbon distillery. The car transmission pump was temporarily quiet and our next turn was within site. New buzzing combined with the flashing red lights on the dash signaling our motorhome engine was overheating. That wasn’t expected.  Noise, flashing lights, horrid smell, something was amiss. John said the strange smell was probably from the dozens of gigantic bourbon aging warehouses we had just passed.

Makers Mark aging warehouses

The stench was increasing and when I glanced to the back of LilyPad, our bedroom was filled with thick white smoke. In my normal calm reserved voice, I directed John to pull over. (Yea, right…but that sounds so much better than the actual panicky horrified shrill screeching voice with which I demanded John to stop.) He wasn’t able to stop immediately and drove on for what seemed like hours, really only minutes, until he turned onto the distillery road and stopped in the middle of the street, inside a marked yellow zone.

Yellow zone    Breakdown

Unhook the car, one visit to town and three hours later, John had fixed the problem of the blown coolant hose that spewed steam up into our bedroom. It took just enough time to make us late, the distillery tours now closed, so we did some purposeful walking to the gift shop, walked KatieBug and continued on our drive to Danville, Kentucky.

Stopping on the side of major highways and freeways are an unpleasant but necessary task when the car transmission pump failure sets off the alarm inside LilyPad. It is a situation made worse by seeing the remnants of the TDOT fatality only days previous. Having dozens of 18 wheelers fly past you shaking your car and motorhome like a rag doll should be a once in a lifetime experience yet here we are, on the side of the road, multiple times a day, for weeks on end, because our Lexus refuses to relax and roll along behind us willingly.

Along with stopping, our trips are made longer by having to slow down over the uneven sections of the some highways and freeways causing the motorhome tires to pound down on the pavement and jar our insides. Until this three year old unsolved dilemma has been mended, we will be stopping indefinitely, every 60 to 100 miles.

A quick overnight at the campground of Pioneer Playhouse in Danville Kentucky to meet the owner, Charlotte Henson, widow of the founder Col. Eben C. Henson. He established the outdoor theater in 1950 and it is the oldest theater in Kentucky. Notable alumni actors include Lee Majors, John Travolta and Jim Varney. The playhouse is the first theater in the nation to be given the legal status of State Theater by act of Legislation. Fingers crossed that we are selected as workampers for the six week season next summer. Finally, a workamp position that sounds delightfully fun!

I’ve made a “best of” list to review when negative thoughts attempt to adjust my attitude. At times, the “it’s always something” can be a real joy killer and happy thoughts are needed to reverse going-down-hill-fast, especially when under severe duress. My list so far includes…Best view: Inspiration Point, Bryce Canyon, Utah. Best apples: Pike Place Market, Seattle, Washington. Best tomatoes: Kruse Farms, Roseburg, Oregon. Friendliest workamping Rangers: Washington on the Brazos, Texas.  Best Elks Lodge: Chico Elks Lodge, Chico, California.

My one page Bucket List keeps expanding, although I have only experienced two destinations on my original list, so I expect my “Best Of” list will change as we continue to roll along.

Our next destination, high on my Bucket List, Lancaster and Pennsylvania Dutch Country.  Land of The Amish and Mennonites.  I am preparing to be fascinated.

March 1st through April 10th 2016 Schulenburg TX, Red Bay AL, Conroe TX and Canton TX

Previous to our Red Bay stop, we spent a day discovering three of the twenty Painted Churches of the Texas Hill Country.  In 1984, 15 of these country churches became listed on the National Register of Historic Places. Tours are provided by the Greater Schulenburg Chamber of Commerce and a map is available for a few dollars for those wishing to take a self-guided tour.

Built by 19th century German and Czech immigrants with a strong faith in God, they came looking for land, economic opportunity and religious freedom.

These churches were often the second or third church building the community constructed. The ones now standing became a symbol of success for the new Texans, proving to themselves that they had successfully survived the transition from their homeland, acquired land, built schools and established churches to nurture their spirits and sustain their faith.

The outsides give the appearance of  American country churches with arched Gothic Revival windows, white frame or stone sidings and long tall Texan steeples piercing the brilliant blue sky.

Saints Cyril and Methodius Church in Dubina was our first stop.  We arrived a few minutes behind a large tour bus and waited while they settled in before entering. History lesson already in session, we sat in the back enjoying the docent’s chat that included entertaining tidbits about the church.

Saints Cyril and Methodius Church  Saints Cyril and Methodius Pulpit  Saints Cyril and Methodius

Crossing the thresholds of each church, one would expect simple wooden interiors but instead you are met with vibrant frescoes, elaborate hand painted details, stenciling and an unexpected wash of colors so intense everything is bathed in its glow. The profusion of color provides a perfect backdrop for saintly statues and intricate art work depicting the heavens and nature in ribbons across walls, arches and ceilings.

Andrew Ammann and his family established the tiny town of Ammannsville in 1870 and in 1917 St. John the Baptist Catholic Church, also known as “the pink church”, was built.  We spotted the steeple long before we came upon the church.  Empty of visitors but invitingly peaceful inside, we sat quietly absorbing the glow from the walls and reading the history of the church from the guide map.

St. John the Baptist Catholic Church

Inscriptions on the walls are in the mother tongue of those who built them, German and Czech immigrants.

St John The Pink Church

The hurricane in July of 1909 destroyed many of the churches but the towns rebuilt them and in the 1950’s, after years of their beauty being whitewashed, they were returned to near their original state.

Pink Church Left Side  The Pink Church Alter  Pink Church Right Side

Nativity of Mary Blessed Virgin Catholic Church in High Hill was built in 1906. One of the first churches built by German trained, educated and noted Texas Architect Leo Dielmann. Leo was the son of a contractor who already had a history of serving the Catholic church of Texas in multiple projects, including churches in Fredericksburg.

In the late 1800’s and into the 1900’s, the Catholic hierarchy attempted to influence communities in Texas to build in the practical “Spanish” or “Mission” style as it was well suited to the hot climate and less likely to be destroyed by fire or storms. The red brick exterior of the Nativity of Mary was important because the interior is wood, while the exterior is protected by brick, making it resistant to fire and storms. It was said that church leadership sometimes refused to bless wood churches upon completion.

Nativity of Mary Blessed Virgin Catholic Church

High Hill’s decorative paintings, by Ferdinand Stockert and Hermann Kern, were completed in 1912. The walls and ceilings of Saint Joseph’s Catholic Church in San Antonio were also painted by the pair. Elders in the parish remember their parents saying that the images were first painted on canvas, then glued to the wood walls. From the choir loft you can still see bubbles in the now hardened canvas.

Until you view them up close, it is difficult to tell the pillars are not marble but wooden columns with baseboards shining like beige and emerald polished marble.

Nativity Sanctuary Marblized Column

As was the custom, men sat on one side and women on the other.  The placement of saint statues also follows the custom inside the churches.

Nativity Sanctuary

The stories behind these churches are of families striving to succeed in a new world while preserving all the values and cultures of their homelands.  Our next trip through, we plan to visit more of these historic and delightfully charming churches.

In a few days we will be parked in Red Bay awaiting repairs. Like having a tooth pulled at the dentist, it is a trip that makes me cringe at the thought.  If I were making the rules, reaching 60 would allow you to abstain from doing anything that makes you cringe.

 

Today is our first day of waiting for the illusive time schedule for our repairs to begin. On past visits we had been notified the night before, giving us time to prepare. Not so this visit. Our call came early a.m. and the rush was on but we returned an hour later, measurements taken, no repairs happening today.

We have been paused on the dust bowl overflow lot for days watching movies and doing odd chores around the motorhome to occupy our minds and keep a firm grip on our sanity. This morning we were called and told our slide roof top had arrived.

Pull it all in and up, breakfast on hold, entering the bay to find a roof seven inches to long, ready to be installed. After listening to the repair guys talking about hacking off the end, I took John by the face, looked deep into his eyes and commanded, NO HACKING! We returned to our site to wait for the correct size to be manufactured. The silver lining, at finding out their mistake, my ready-to-explode blood pressure was relieved by purposeful walking. Nearly an hour of walking up and down the warehouses’ 45 repair bays to release tension while waiting for them to confirm, no hacking, they will manufacture another roof. Our “hurry up and wait” is approaching its second full week.

Each time we enter or exit Red Bay we take an alternative route just to spice things up a bit.  We had gone for groceries and came back down a road that split the middle of miles of farm land and at our turn, we noticed a sign announcing “Auction Tonight”.  Entering the dirt road, we approached a huge old warehouse with dozens of cars out front.   Free entertainment for the night!

Action House    Friday Night Auction

Sitting down in the back row, we watched as box load after box load of what looked like garage sale rejects was going to the highest bidder.  One box contained grocery store dry goods.  A gentleman down in front bid five dollars, won, dug through and picked out a box of crackers, opened the crackers and began munching.  After seeing the sale prices at the snack stand, he got himself one heck of a great deal.   When the sun began to sink, we left the auction empty handed and drove back to LilyPad to relax in front of the TV.

Although I have no intention of staying any longer than necessary, I am grateful for any Silver Linings, this trip having several. It included learning that the two overflow parking areas offer a special price for a full week stay. Our Red Bay stay is now the least expensive, $200.00 less per month including electricity, than any other place we have stayed while traveling. That excludes our Wally World RV Resort stays and workamping site stays that are free. And Silver Dollar Discount provided a fabulous deal. Now switched to decaffeinated tea, I found 8 boxes of my favorite, Good Earth Sweet & Spicy, expiration 2017, for a savings of $2.00 each box. Lastly, our little mom and pop DVD center rents movies 1/3 less than Red Box. Pausing to see the forest through the trees has its advantages in times of uninvited stress compounded by boredom.

John stopped into the office to check where our name was on the list and was informed that Tuesday the 21st we must be at repair bay 35 at 7:00 am. Our slide roof and entrance steps are scheduled for repair. Once inside the bay, everything must be removed from the cabinets and floor space.

Large slide leak repair

Off to the lounge to wait from 7:00 am through 4:30 pm. At days end we replace what was taken out and roll back to our site. Red Bay repair trips are a continuous rinse and repeat for weeks on end.

Another call came Friday the 25th to bring LilyPad to repair bay 21 for our original problem, fixing the stress crack in the bedroom driver side slide. It is a two day project. Easter Sunday passed without notice, dinner was what was left in the fridge, friends and family to far away to reach.

Because we must vacate LilyPad for the night after she is in the paint shop all day absorbing the strong paint fumes, choosing a hotel that wasn’t remodeling or too old and stinky was a challenge. It took three tries to get an acceptable hotel. Happily on firm ground for our overnight, with dozens of TV shows to watch and a nice comfy bed, all three of us slept peacefully.

Our list had included replacing the top slide roof, calking and riveting our large slide topper to the motorhome, removing the glue mess that John made while trying to fix the slide topper, some warrantee work on our stairs, and repairing for a second time, the stress fracture on the bedroom slide.

From an unknown cause, a mold smell grew to intolerable, the thermostat flipped out needing replacement, our TV antenna became finicky and stopped working and our battery wiring to the car conked out. Our “it’s always something” list was alive and well and we hadn’t even left Red Bay.

The daily repairs remind me of our first car. It could have been assigned the title of “Lemon” but it was pre 1975 and the term had not yet been conceived. The car was a Ford, what I ended up calling a Fix Or Repair Daily. It was the neediest vehicle we had owned to date, excluding LilyPad. Forty-four years later, I have re-assigned the name to our rolling box. Unluckily, the vehicle must be purchased new and “claimed” a lemon within a few months of purchase along with having major mechanical complications. I’m not sure the problems we are having would be considered mechanical but I would have gleefully hired an attorney had we purchased it new.  When you have this many repairs, it never hurts to check all avenues of compensation.

The last few days of March were spent on the road back to Conroe to prepare LilyPad for our trip to Canton Texas and the Tiffin Rally. Mansfield, LA was our midway overnight at our favorite inexpensive resort, Wally World RV Parking.

We paused at Conroe KOA for a rest and grocery fill up before setting off early morning for my first taste of a new-to-me Texas experience in decades, Canton First Monday.

Conroe KOA

Canton First Monday is the oldest and largest flea market in the country. Being a resident of the Houston area for over 30 years, I had never been.  I think John planned for us to go when we were homeless and unemployed with no place to put anything or ability to buy.  This visit will certainly result in me finding a houseful of things that I can’t live without however I still am lacking land with  “sticks n bricks” in which to stuff it beyond full.

First Monday’s began in the 1850’s on the courthouse grounds.  Traveling circuit judges stopped to conduct their business at the courthouse with the locals who were visiting relatives and friends, making business arrangements and getting local news. Stray horses were sold until horses were no longer the main mode of transportation. In the 1940’s, roaming dogs became the next commodity. At first, farmers would bring in strays and unwanted offspring; then the hunters started bringing their hound dogs. Soon the whole town was saturated with hound dogs, some selling for as much as $500. During election years, politicians would center their campaigns around First Monday.

First Monday Trade Days  Canton First Monday

First Monday is the oldest and largest continually operating Flea Market in the country.  It covers 100 acres and has spaces for 6,000 vendors. We walked for three hours straight and barely touched the edges of one area.

Canton First Mondays

For the next two weeks we are settled at Mill Creek Ranch Resort in Canton, Texas. Not the fanciest RV Resort that we have stayed at but clean, well-groomed grounds and the staff are friendly.  It has all the necessary perks and a few extras luxuries.

Mill Creek Ranch Resort

Not since our stays at Red Bay have I seen such an abundance of Tiffin motorhomes but this time we were all here to party! Our site is near the outdoor Pavilion, perfect positioning for casual drop-in visitors, something I enjoy immensely.

LilyPad  Red Oaks Area

If you plan to visit for First Monday, Mill Creek is the perfect stop over for families.  They have multiple cabin villages surrounding small ponds,

cabins

a pool and outdoor clubhouse up front,

RV pool and outdoor clubhouse  Walden Pond

a spacious and elegant lodge in the back area with a pool and sauna out the side door,

Club House Pool and sauna

and within walking distance of the market but save your walking for the sales area and take their free trolley or the small bus that stops at all the local sleepover spots.

 

After the flea market, we had a week before the rally group arrived.  Getting this close to any kind of a wildlife refuge without visiting is never an option and the day was begging for us to step outside in the warm breezy sunshine.  KatieBug was happy after a big breakfast and already snoring away, hardly noticing us leaving.  Less than an hour away is Tiger Creek Wildlife Refuge.  The containment systems are open, full of activities for the cats and bigger than a full size tennis court for the larger cats.

John at Tiger Creek

Our guide was Jared, Director of Animal Care.  The tour lasted about an hour and we walked over smooth pathways to each of the areas.  Jared was full of information about the large and small cats, telling us about behavior that is taught so each animal can be checked over daily and properly cared for during their stay.  As most of the animals here were pets or born in captivity, none would qualify for being released into the wild and will stay here to live out their lives.

Jared our docent

They have an area devoted to those cats who have departed.

Those who have gone on before

The refuge houses lions, tigers, leopards, bobcats and mountain lions in large open cages with lots of exercise toys and lookout perches for the comfort of the cats and visibility of guests.  Many of the cats are older but they are a healthy looking assortment of felines.  large cat area  Tiger resting benches

The smaller cats, like Katie the Puma, are housed in large covered cages full of climbing limbs, toys and a sturdy bed that the staff makes from old fire hoses.

small cat areas  Katie the Puma

Being a warm day, most of the cats were lazing around on the ground but their cages contained huge balls, wood logs, large steel water containers and toys should they choose to be active.

Kumari, Bengal Tiger    Tiger

One of the big cat areas has a large in-ground cement pool large enough for swimming and the cats are rotated to give each their chance for a deep dunk.

Tiger in the swim hole area

They look sweet and cuddly but we were assured that they could do a fair amount of damage with their weight alone.  One of the areas had a shock wire around the lower part of the cage to keep the cat from leaning up against and pushing the fence polls out of their sockets.  None are trying to escape, they just enjoyed leaning.

Gunther resting   napping tiger

We met CFO and Director of Programs and Services Lisa Werner on our way out.  She happily assured us that they welcome singles, couples or groups of any kind and they enjoy hosting special events like their 2nd annual Autism Awareness Day being held April 9th, the day after we arrived.

Living in the gray area and relaxing until our Texas RV Rally begins on Monday, April 11th.