On the road West - FINALLY!!

I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to leave Florida, but here I am getting ready for bed at an I-90 rest area in South Dakota.  I spent my first night just 20 miles from Hobe Sound just happy to be out of Floridays RV Park.  I wasn't sure I was going to be able to leave on Friday, September 14th.  After spending all day organizing and getting "road ready" the motor home had a mechanical malfunction with a jack that wouldn't retract all the way.  And when I started up and tried to pull out of my space the dual tires in the rear sank into the soft surface.  I was stuck, good and proper.  Boy, was I glad to be a member of GoodSam roadside assistance!  I called and they sent out what they called a "mini-crane", which is basically a really big tow truck with a winch.  They strapped onto the chassis and in less time than it takes to type this paragraph they had me pulled out.  Darkness was setting in by that time when I finally pulled out onto A1A.  Less than 20 miles away I pulled into an I-95 rest area and spent the night. 

This brings me to my first of two screwups of the next 24 hours.

The next morning while getting ready to pull out from the rest area I pressed the bedroom slideout button to pull it in.  I first checked for obstructions and when the slide was just about all the way in I heard a crunching sound that did not sound good.  Sure enough, I had left my laptop case with the laptop inside at the foot of the bed where it was overlooked.  The slide was now jammed.  I pressed the button again to reverse the motor and nothing happened.  My heart sank.  I went outside to inspect the slide and saw it was tight against the coach at the top, but there was a gap at the bottom of about 2-3 inches.  My first call was to Newmar in Indiana.  They offered their ideas and I then called the Newmar dealer I used for my deer damage repair to see about getting into their shop.  I talked to Tom Ansley the manager of the body shop and he said he'd get someone from the mechanical shop to help once I got there.  That was Thursday.  I arrived too late to go to the shop and made arrangements for the following morning.  That night would be spent in the same space at Flamingo Lake in Jax.  The interesting thing is that when I was setting up for the night I hit the button just to confirm the problem still existed.  The sound of the electric motor hummed the instant I pressed the button and the slide went out normally.  The Universe was, indeed, smiling.  I tested the slide a few times and was satisfied that it was fully functional.  With nothing left to worry over I had the evening to enjoy.  I was hot for blue crabs, so I went to the live crab shop and bought half a dozen of the heaviest crabs I've had in a long time.  The blue crabs that come out of the St. John's river have a sweet flavor and are heavier than their salt water brethren because they don't have to hibernate living in the food rich and warmer brackish water in the winter time.  I boiled them 10 minutes and chilled them under tap water to prevent over cooking.  Being on a diet meant no melted butter, but who needs butter when they've got Cajun seasoning mixed in with apple vinegar.  I called Tom the next morning and he wished me luck on my trip.  The second of my screwups was while leaving Flamingo Lake RV Park.  I had every tucked away and the Pathfinder was hitched to the tow bar.  All was good to that point.  But, while beginning my pullout towards the gate a park employee ran up to my side window and motioned for me to stop.  I asked what the problem was and he told me there was a shrieking noise coming from the Nissan.  All I could think was, "Lord, why me"?  I got out to inspect the toad (vehicle towed) and, sure 'nuff, I had left the parking brake on.  I must have been born under a favorable star because I was must a minute away from pulling out onto I-295.  Can you imagine the plume of  smoke that would have trailed from under the Nissan had I not been stopped from leaving? 

I spent the next night just south of Macon Georgia sandwiched between big rig trucks at a truck stop.  Nothing to report of note.  I must say, though, it was nice to wake up that morning "on the road" and still find I was home.  At some time over the last 8 months I had made a transition in my thinking.  The Dutch Star was now more than a mere vehicle.  It had become a most comfortable home.  Just imagine installing wheels under your house or apartment and waking up to a different scene every morning.  It's a really cool feeling and it wasn't difficult to imagine the potential that lay before me.  I was truly on my way now, Yellowstone or bust! 

The next day was spent keeping it between the lines and the scenery just got better and better.  I was in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee and watching jaw dropping vistas drifting past my windshield.  I had long since decided that being on permanent vacation had to mean a leisurely pace.  I try to never exceed 60 mph, which I believe provides close to optimal fuel mileage.  Going slower than all the other traffic also has another benefit.  By letting everyone pass me there is a naturally occurring significant gap created between the motor home and the traffic in front of me.  Out of necessity I've had to become very safety conscious and I figured the traffic gap is exactly what I needed.  The Dutch Star weighs in at 32,000 pounds and stopping isn't its long suit.  I've seen an RV graveyard in Missouri and it doesn't take a lot of imagination to figure out how those crashed and burned out hulks found their way to becoming salvage.  It would kill the motor home manufacturing industry, but I'd favor states requiring a special license before allowing people like me behind the wheel.  I'm feeling pretty comfortable driving on the Interstates, but it's still a handful and not a vehicle to drive while distracted. 

The next days drive would be a combination of country and city driving.  Approaching St. Louis was interesting because I passed an exit on I-64 that read, "Lebanon/Moscuta/Scott AFB".  We had been stationed at Scott from 1958-1962 and we had lived in Lebanon nearly the whole time.  I was tempted to pull off and go and see the 'ole homestead, but I resisted.  Been there, done that.  Instead, I drove headlong into the maze that is the St. Louis highway system.  I wanted to take a picture of the arch, but it went by too fast.  I was shocked at what I saw of east St. Louis on the west side of the river.  It looked like what I imagined parts of London or Liverpool looked like after the Nazi V-2 bombings.  Block after block of red brick commercial buildings stood vacant and in a sad state of dilapidation.  This was old, original St. Louis close to the river where so much commercial boat or barge traffic took place.  It doesn't take all that much imagination to envision how it used to be back in the day.  Turn of the century St. Louis must have been quite a thriving place, but the next century wasn't being so kind.  I've never seen a section of town more in need of being torn down.  You have to see west St. Louis to see progress and affluence.  I can't remember what the city is famous for, except Budweiser and Cardinal baseball.  I do remember attending the circus as a child.  I wonder if the circus still comes to town?  Driving north out of the city with its horrible, cracked pavement highways I finally broke free north of town.  I don't normally take note of airports I drive by, but the big airport there has runways that are built in rolling hills.  I've landed light airplanes on hilly runways before and it's actually quite fun in a challenging kind of way.  The important thing is to fly the airplane parallel to the contours before setting her down.  I could just imagine how it must be to land an airliner there and I smiled.  I  was smiling a lot of late.

I would make it to southwestern Iowa the next evening.  The scenery had changed pretty dramatically.  I was now in corn country, but disappointed at the view.  It's one thing to hear news reports about a drought and quite another to see it first hand.  Mid September is corn harvest time across the mid-west and the corn should have been 7 feet tall.  What was passing before me looked to be about belt high.  I don't know if the crops were a total loss, but the combines were out cutting it all down in giant swaths of perfectly even rows.  There is a kind of beauty and symmetry inherent in the process that you just don't see anywhere else.  I suppose cutting a lush lawn that had grown too high would be somewhat similar.  The cool thing about corn harvest time is they run the combines 24/7.  Passing in the night I could see islands of very bright light out in the middle of the fields shrouded in dust kicked up by the machinery.  It was eerily beautiful and a most unusual sight for these city eyes used to street lamps and higher density population centers.  The next morning I spent enjoying a movie along with my morning cup of coffee.  I would get a late start because I recorded the movie, Beaches.  If you've not cried at the movies in a while then you've not watched Beaches lately.  I'm always amazed at the crap that comes out of movie studios, but Beaches is certainly the exception.  My brother the professional writer tells me that tear jerker movies are basically formulaic and not all that difficult to write.  Be it as it may, I'm still a sucker for a good tear jerker plot. 

Tonight I'm in a rest stop just outside of Lyle, South Dakota.  My slides are out and I'm watching "The Rainmaker" on Dish.  Tomorrow I expect to be taking pictures of Mt. Rushmore and driving through some beautiful countryside to get there.  From there I'll get back on I-90 and drive to Wind Cave National Park and stay the night.  I don't know what to expect there.  This will be the first National Park for me on this trip and I'm a little excited.  I bought an annual pass that is supposed to gain me entrance into all the nation's National Parks.  This area of South Dakota is known for its Indian tribes; Crow and Sioux headquarters are here.  Driving over the rolling hills I can just imagine millions of buffalo stretching to the horizon and Indians hunting from the high ground following the giant herds across the prairie.  It must have been an awe inspiring sight.  It's no wonder that the Indians are so resentful.  They lived for literally thousands of years in harmony with the land and in less than 50 years in the 19th century everything they valued was stripped away from them.  I'm going to be visiting Custer's last stand in Montana and even before I get there I feel a great empathy for the Indians who were so wronged by our US government.  It took massive rationalizations for White America to stand mute while the indigenous peoples were systematically slaughtered.  But, that's an old story and I won't belabor any points that could be rightfully made on behalf of the Indians.  It's just a shame that a once proud people have been reduced to being on governmental welfare for the last 150 years.  Most injustice in this world is beyond the control of mere individuals.  I guess all we can really do is recognize when wrongs have been done and accept responsibility as should be dictated by our social conscience.  Some complain that the Indians are not entitled.  I say they deserve everything they've gotten and more.  We've not only displaced whole civilizations, but we've turned them into tribes of drunks predisposed to alcoholism.

I've been looking at 10 day weather reports for Grand Tetons National Park and Yellowstone and it looks to be a sunny week coming up with highs in the 60's and lows in the 20's.  I guess that's the kind of temperature range you see in the mountains.  I'm just hoping against hope that it doesn't snow early in the northern Rockies.  I'd hate to get caught ill prepared for snow.  I considered going a more southern route on I-80, but then I wouldn't get to experience the vista of the approaching upheaval of the Grand Tetons.  I'm told this section of the northern Rockies does not have any foothills.  Down south out of Denver you have to pass over the foothills before you get to the big mountain peaks.  Up in Jackson the big peaks just erupt out of the prairie.  It's something to look forward to, for sure.