Jeeping - June 28-30, 2019

For the second year in a row, The Husband and I (along with his sister and her husband) participated in the TN Trailjam at the Loretta Lynn Ranch near Waverly, Tennessee. 

Now, don't get the idea that we are hard-core trail enthusiasts.  Except for letting our grandchildren drive our Wrangler in the fields around our house, our Jeep had never been off-road until last year's trail ride.  We don't have big honkin' mud tires, lift kits, fancy suspension, and all that stuff.  Our 1998 Wrangler is stock; until recently, it was my everyday drive-to-work vehicle. 

We left Friday morning, stopped in town for breakfast, then made our way to Lexington, Tennessee on back-roads.  We'd booked two cabins at Natchez Trace State Park, but check-in time wasn't until 4 p.m., so we had time for another of our favorite activities, shopping in flea markets, before heading to the park.

The cabins were clean and stocked with linens and kitchen necessities, but there was no television or internet.  We stowed our stuff, then drove back to Pin Oak Lodge for its Friday night seafood buffet, which was . . . okay, as far as buffets go.  Afterward, we went back to the cabins, built a fire in the fire pit (despite the fact that it was about 200 degrees outside), and sat around and talked for a while.  One down-side to these cabins is that they do not have comfortable outdoor seating.  There were picnic tables outside each cabin.  Ours was weathered and somewhat green with moss (I suppose that's what it was), and I was a bit reluctant to sit at it for fear of stains on my pants and splinters in my butt and elbows.  Our cabin also came with a mouse, which I discovered during the middle of the night when I heard crackling noises from the kitchen and got up to find that our potato chip bag had been invaded. 

After breakfast, we headed to the trail ride.  We'd planned to join a Jeep trail to a local winery, but we didn't make it in time, so we just scoped out the vendor area and the various events.  There was a "Barbie Jeep" race, where full-grown adults rode their kids' toys down a steep hill.  It was pretty funny, except for one guy who dislocated his shoulder when his ride flipped and he took a bad fall.  After that, we drove around to the hill climb and watched as a few brave souls powered their Jeeps up a steep hill.  If our tires had been more aggressive, we'd have tried it, ourselves!  When we'd had enough of the mid-day heat, it was time to ride a trail in the shady woods. 

We stayed on the easy trail.  It was quite a bit longer than it was last year, and not quite as muddy.  We crept along the trail without incident.  About halfway through, we noticed a group of Jeeps had pulled off in an open field to watch another hill climb.  This hill was big and steep.  We watched a monster off-road vehicle go up it, but the sun was so hot that we gave up and went back to the trail before we saw whether or not any of the tricked-out Jeeps were going to attempt it.

It was almost 4 p.m. by the time we finished the trail, and we were all hungry.  There was food at the Trailjam, but we were hot and wanted to sit down to a meal in someplace cool.  We drove back to the group of businesses near the interstate and ate at Rochelle's, a barbeque joint.  My sloppy hamburger was hand-patted and delicious.  The Husband wasn't all that impressed with his rib dinner (but, to be fair, we live near a place that serves the best ribs in the world, so his standard is pretty high). 

The heat and dust and the jostling had pretty much sapped us all, so after we ate we called it a day and went back to our cool cabins.  The next morning, we packed up and headed home, traveling different back-roads just to see something different.  After three days of mostly driving in the heat, it sure was good to come home and stretch out on the couch.

Crater of Diamonds State Park - October 20 - 25, 2018

We hauled the camper to Arkansas, to the Crater of Diamonds State Park, in Murfreesborough. 

It was a fun trip.  The weather was perfect - warm enough for short sleeves during the day, and cool enough for a camp fire at night.  My sister-in-law and brother-in-law joined us Sunday morning, and we hunted diamonds all day.  Found nothing but rocks.

The diamond field is a 30-acre plot outside the campground.  They plow it, occasionally.  They say that the best time to find diamonds is right after a new plowing that has been followed by a rain, and that most of the diamonds are found by people who just walk around (without digging) and look for glints.  Because there is mica in the soil, there are a lot of tiny glints. 

The ground had not been plowed for a couple of months when we were there, but there had been a recent rain.  Where people had not disturbed the soil after the rain, little stones were resting atop thin columns of dirt.  In the bottoms, the mud would nearly suck the boots off my feet.

The in-laws went home Monday morning, and The Husband and I spent the day roaming around the little shops in town.  On Tuesday, we went back to the diamond field and heard news that someone from Texas had found a diamond lying on top of the ground about 5 minutes after walking into the field that morning.  Hmph.  That was MY diamond.

Wednesday, I asked The Husband what he wanted to do that day (we were DONE diamond hunting).  He said, "Let's just drive around and sight-see."  I said, "How about if we sight-see in the direction of a Hobby Lobby?"  The closest one was in Hot Springs, about an hour away.  We drove there, picked up a few crafting supplies, and went downtown to find some lunch.  Tucked against a hillside was a neat little pizza place - I think it was called "Grateful Pizza," or something like that.  The pizza and salad were yummy.

Thursday morning, we hitched up and headed home.  It rained on us all the way home.  We'd considered parking the camper and then heading to Alabama for a story-telling festival in Athens, but by the time we had un-hitched and emptied the camper, the thought of another road trip was not all that appealing.  It was good to be home.

Wedding Doings - September 15, 2018

Nephew Buck is marrying today, to a most lovely bride.  The whole family, right on down to cousins, is abuzz with getting ready for the big event.  My grandsons are probably searching YouTube right now for instructions on how to tie a necktie. 

But this post is about Buck, who, in his lifetime, has provided the family with some interesting stories.  (I am certain there are many more good ones I haven't heard.)

Buck was fearless. 

Let's start around age 2, the time of his life when I knew him best, before everyone grew up and struck out in different directions. 

At about age 2, Buck rode his tricycle out of the secluded cove where he lived.  He took a right at the entrance of the cove, and rode several blocks, all the way to busy Central Avenue, where he took another right turn.  His frantic parents caught him pedaling leisurely down the sidewalk, traffic whizzing by him. 

A year or so later, he gave his whole family heart failure when he was caught climbing up the side of a log cabin, using the protruding logs as a ladder.  He was almost to the roof when apprehended.

Another year later, Buck got into his grandmother's car, managed to shift it out of gear, and rolled it down a hill at his family's Christmas tree farm, flattening multiple saplings. 

Fast forward a couple more years.  Buck and his sister spent a few days out in the country at his grandparents' house.  All of his local cousins came to visit.  At some point, Buck's grandparents got into a spat.  Shortly thereafter, Buck went missing.  Grandmother called out to him.  No answer.  She called out again:  "Buck, if you are in this house, you'd better come out right now, or you'll get a spanking when you do come out."  No answer.  Thus began a frantic search.  Grandmother enlisted all of the grandchildren to help find him.  They spread out in all directions, calling for him.  No answer.  Remembering Buck's tendency to wander off, Grandmother drafted one of the older grandchildren to ride up and down the road with her in the car to help look for him.  They scanned the ditches.  They called and called.  No answer.  Grandmother was sure he had drowned in the pond, or someone had kidnapped him on the road.  Finally, someone found him.  He'd been in a bedroom closet the whole time, frightened by his grandparents' argument.  I'm told that he received the promised spanking from Grandmother.  It looks like the one time Buck let fear overtake him, he got in trouble. 

I'm not telling some of the other stories I know.  ;)

I'm guessing that, at this moment, Buck is all dressed up in his wedding clothes, and probably posing for photographs with his beautiful bride Lindsay. 

And I am betting that, although he may be nervous, he is fearless.  :)

Colorado Trip, September 2 - 7, 2018

My sister-in-law has a cabin near Estes Park, Colorado, and she and my brother invited us to come for a visit.  They also invited my sister and her daughter.  On Sunday, September 2, at about 8:45 a.m., we loaded up in an airplane and headed to Denver.  My brother picked us up at the airport.

Garden of the Gods

My lovely, frugal niece had bought an airplane ticket to Colorado Springs because (for some reason) it was cheaper, even though she was on the same plane as us.  The deal was that the plane stopped in Denver, then went on to Colorado Springs.  Unfortunately, so did the niece's luggage.  No problem, my brother said, he'd wanted to see Colorado Springs, anyway.  So there we all went.  On the way, we drove through the Garden of the Gods, but it was really crowded, so we didn't linger.  We stopped for lunch at a Mexican place - I don't even remember the name of the town, but the food was good and so was the margarita.  (Don't judge me; I was on vacation.)  After lunch, we took the backroads all the way to Boulder, where we laid in some groceries for the week, then we drove on to the cabin.  It was dusk when we arrived.  We were all stiff from all the sitting we'd done, and in no mood to cook dinner, so my brother opened a bottle of wine and passed around cheese, crackers, and olives, and soon we were all just as happy as could be.  ;)

One thing about my siblings is that they are early-to-bed folks.  They drop like flies when the sun goes down, and get up with the chickens.  When I got up at 5:00 Monday morning, my sister had been up for an hour.  She'd already made the coffee.  Good girl!  When the rest of the crew got up, my brother made us pancakes for breakfast, and then he drove us down to Estes Park.  He dropped us off in the touristy part of the town (it's all rather touristy) and had ice cream on a park bench while we visitors poked our heads in the shops.  The weather was a little chilly, and I had to buy a pair of wool socks to keep my toes from snapping off.  There were street vendors in a little plaza, and we took a slow stroll past the booths.  They had some neat stuff.  We had another Mexican lunch, then headed back to the cabin.  We'd made crock pot lasagna before we went to Estes Park, and it was ready by the time we came home.  We had an early dinner, and everybody hit the sack.

Us, at Rocky Mountain National Forest

Tuesday morning, we're up at the crack of dawn again.  After breakfast, we drove up to the Rocky Mountain National Forest.  Such beautiful scenery.  It was about 45 degrees up there, near 14,000 feet.  We stopped at a few vistas, hit the gift shop, then took the long way home.  On our way down the mountain, we saw a rainbow BELOW us.  (I guess you could say that we were "over the rainbow."  Heh..."way up high.")  ;)  In a country field, we saw prairie dogs scampering all over the place.  That evening, we had steaks (grilled to perfection, I might add), baked sweet potatoes, roasted brussels sprouts, and more wine.  My sister made a coconut pie.  It was all very, very tasty.

Over the rainbow...look closely.

Us, in the rocky clearing.

Wednesday, we delivered the niece to meet a shuttle to go back to the airport, for she had to go back to work.  When the shuttle left, we went down to Estes Park to shop at a yarn store (my hands were needing some work to do).  On our way back to the cabin, we saw a guy pulling his trash can down his driveway.  His dog was with him, and I was looking at the dog when I heard my husband say, "Damn, dude!" and I looked at the guy, and HE WAS NOT WEARING ANY PANTS.  He had on a flannel shirt and tennis shoes.  That's it.  One wonders what the urgency was in returning the garbage can to the house.  Or maybe he just never wears pants.    Back at the cabin, my brother suggested a picnic lunch up on a mountain.  We had to go off-road to get there, which delighted the menfolk.  (I kinda dug it, myself, to be honest.)  It was a rocky clearing, and on a clear day we could have seen forever, but a cool mist had rolled in, and we were enveloped in a haze.  Still, it was fun.  More wine, cheese, and olives, with caramel popcorn for dessert.  Who couldn't like that?  

Sprague Lake

Thursday, we drove around again.  On the way through Estes Park, we saw a herd of elk right at the edge of the town.  We went up to Sprague Lake.  Absolutely beautiful.  When we left the lake, the sun was shining bright.  A few minutes later, back in Estes Park, it started to rain, then sleet pelted down so hard that it was heaped up at gutter downspouts.  Back the cabin, it had hardly rained at all, but it was chilly.  We warmed up some blackeyed peas and stirred up some cornbread for supper, and called it a night fairly early.

The next day was going-home day, so we got up early, made breakfast, cleaned the cabin, battened down the hatches.  By 9:30, we were on the road to the airport.  We stopped at a grocery store in Boulder for coffee and doughnuts.  In the store, I slipped on some liquid and bent my arthritic right leg further behind me than it had bent in years.  Had to fill out an "incident report" for the store.  Thankfully, that didn't take too long, and we made it to the airport on time.  It was not raining when we landed, but by the time we shuttled to our car, rain was coming down in buckets, right there at rush hour.  Land sakes!  Happily, we made it through the city traffic without any trouble.  It was dinner time by the time we crossed into our county, and we were able to have our usual Friday night Mexican dinner with my husband's sister and her husband.  Made it home about 8:30 that night.  I put on my pajamas and went straight to bed.

We thoroughly enjoyed our trip, but, as always, it was good to get home.  :)

We B Jeep'n'! June 22-24, 2018

We did something this weekend we'd never done:  we went on a Jeep trail ride!  Our 11-year-old grandson went with us.  We had a big time!

The trail ride was at the Loretta Lynn Ranch, near Waverly, Tennessee. 

My sister-in-law and her husband also have a Jeep (well, SEVERAL Jeeps), and they went on the trail ride, too. 

We left at 9 a.m. on Friday morning.  The Husband and The Grandson drove our Wrangler.  I followed them and The In-Laws in my Patriot.  We all stopped to eat a big breakfast, then hit the road.  So we wouldn't have to battle I-40 traffic, we drove up Hwy. 70 to Waverly, then took Hwy. 13 to the Ranch. 

Before checking in at the Ranch, we checked in at the nearest KOA campground.  It was just off the interstate.  We booked two camping cabins, each of which came with a full bed, a set of bunk beds, and an air-conditioner.  That was it.  But the room was clean.  The bathroom and shower were in a bath house across the road from the cabins.  The restrooms were clean, although a little funky-smelling.  Thank goodness the air-conditioners were loud enough to drown out the interstate traffic noise!

As soon as we'd checked in, we climbed in the Jeeps and went to the ranch.  After getting a sticker at the information booth, we headed for the trail.  We'd been warned not to try the intermediate and difficult trails, so we stayed on the easy trail.  It was not altogether easy.  There had been a rain on Thursday, and the trail was muddy.  Still, we were able to motor along in 2-wheel drive for most of the trail.  About 3/4 of the way through, we encountered The Hill.  It was steep and curved, and lined with trees and saplings that ached to yank off our mirrors.  My Wrangler had not been in 4-wheel-drive mode for at least two years, and we had trouble shifting into 4-Low.  We tried several times to get up the hill in 4-High gear, but it wasn't happening.  Finally, The Husband gave the lever a powerful yank, and it worked; we clawed our way to the top of the hill. 

The In-Laws had already made it up the hill ahead of us and were waiting on us.  We proceeded along the path behind them for a few yards, then they came to a halt.  I could hear some clanking and some cussing.  It seemed that The Brother-In-Law's Jeep was refusing to move either forward or backward.

He got out and wanted to lie down on the ground to look under the Jeep, but the ground was soupy.  I found a towel in our Jeep, and he spread it on the ground and slid under the Wrangler.  More cussing and clanking.  Meanwhile, traffic was piling up behind us.  I heard engines turn off and doors slam.  Soon, drivers from the Jeeps behind us were coming up to see what the hold-up was.  I heard one guy say, "We'll just pick him up and set him off the trail" (referring to the Jeep)."  Another guy walked past our Jeep and said, "OK, where's the Newbie?"  I said, "WE are the newbies, but it's the guy in front of us that's broke down!"  Altogether, about three guys came forward.  One of them said he knew what the problem was, and he slid under the Jeep, yanked something, crawled out, and said, "OK, try it."  A miracle!  We finished the trail with no further delays.  The evening ended with a live band on stage near the parking lot.

The next morning, we went to breakfast then went back to the trail ride.  The sky was overcast, and we were afraid it was going to rain any minute.  We signed up for the 10 a.m. trail ride and the 12 p.m. Jeep trail to a wine-tasting at a local winery.  The trail was even soupier than it had been the previous day, but we shifted into 4-L and motored right along with no problem.  By the time we reached the end of the trail, it was time to get in line to go to the winery.  Seeing about a 1/4 mile train of Jeeps on the road made me smile.  :)  On the way to the winery, it started to rain.  The Husband and I were staying dry in the front seats, but The Grandson was getting a face full in the back seat, so we pulled out of the train and yanked up the top right fast.  We made it to the winery in time to join the rest of the drivers for the wine tasting.  This winery was called the "Grinder's Switch Winery."  It was very neat, and the people were very nice, and if you are in the neighborhood with a little time to spare, you should go there!

After the wine tasting, we detoured to visit a little flea market, then we grabbed a bite to eat and went back to the cabins.  The In-Laws went back to the Ranch to look around a little more.  The Grandson wanted to go swimming in the KOA pool, so we stayed at the campground to let him swim.  Late that evening, we all met up and went to dinner together.

Sunday morning after breakfast, we headed home.

The trail riding was fun.  But here's a hint:

If you have a sensitive gut, don't eat gravy for breakfast then go on a 2-hour trail ride unless you are willing to go potty in the woods.

East Tennessee Trip - June 10 - 16, 2018

Last Sunday, we left out of here around 9 a.m. to go to east Tennessee to see our kids and pick up our camper.  Back in March, our son started his new job, all the way across the state, and we loaned him the camper until he could find a place to live for him and his family.  They're all settled into their new house now, and we wanted to see it, and them, and help them celebrate the baby's 4th birthday.  We arrived on Sunday evening, a little after 6 p.m.  (Tennessee is a l-o-n-g state, especially when you're traveling from lower left to upper right!) 

We had a couple of fun days with the kids.  Monday we did a little birthday shopping for the baby in the morning, then went out for birthday dinner at a Mexican restaurant that evening.  The baby loved it when the wait staff sang "Happy Birthday" to her.  Tuesday, we lazed around a good bit (well, *I* lazed around while everybody else worked), then went to a lake that had a little sand beach and a swimming area.  Wednesday, after hugging all the kids, we picked up the camper at the RV park where our son had left it and drove to Cedars of Lebanon park to camp for a couple of days.  We spent most of Thursday and Friday poking around in antique malls.  Today, we battened down the hatches and drove home.

About the only arguing my husband and I ever do is when we are trying to park the camper, whether in a camping spot or in our driveway.  He has this thing: the camper MUST be perfectly parallel to whatever we're parking it on.  He usually does a pretty good job of backing the trailer into the parking spot at campgrounds, but getting it into our driveway is always a bitch.  It's either too close to the house, or too close to the edge of the driveway, or it's crooked. 

On the return leg of any camping trip, we're always tired from a long drive, and it's usually hot outside.  My job is to get out of the truck and "c'mon back" him.  It seems I can never find the right place to stand so that he can see me as I motion him.  Today, it was about 95 degrees when we began the parking attempt(s).  He pulled that camper up and back about half a dozen times before he quit (and I think he's secretly STILL not satisfied with where he put it).  On the next-to-the-last attempt, I asked him if he wanted me to go inside and get the tape measure, and measure from the front of the camper to the house then from the back of the camper to the house to make sure he's got it straight.  He turned his backside to me and said for me to measure THIS. 

I told him my tape measure wasn't that long, and then stuck my tongue out at him.

It was a fun trip, but it's good to be home.

And parked straight.  ;)

Roaming...Oct. 23 - Oct 26, 2017

Early this year, when we chose this week for a vacation, we assumed we'd go camping somewhere.  Life has a way of changing best-laid plans, and though we still took this week for a vacation, we did not go camping.  We batted around the idea of renting a cabin in the Ozark mountains, but the cabins where we wanted to go were all booked by the time we tried to make reservations.  It wasn't until the end of last week that we settled on a destination:  Poverty Point, a World Heritage site in Louisiana.

Monday morning, we hit the road to Louisiana.  We intended to try the tamales at Doe's Eat Place in Greenville, but discovered that it closes on Mondays.  We picked another spot and, to our delight, discovered that they served Doe's tamales.  YUM!  Bellies full, we headed on to Poverty Point.

Poverty Point is a site where a Native American community lived in the distant past, as early as 1600 BC.  That's BEE-CEE, folks - over 3,000 years ago.  The Mississippi River ran past the site when the people lived there.  The river has changed course since then; maybe that's why the people moved on.  In any case, what remains of the village are several mounds and faint indications of what once was a series of raised semi-circles, where it is thought that the people placed their tents.  Having lived near the Mississippi River all my life, I know that it regularly rises out of its banks, so I "get" the raised semi-circles.  What I would love to understand is the mounds.  There are five of them, the tallest of which seems to have had an earthen ramp built up to the summit.  The people would have built these mounds by hauling dirt in baskets - millions of basket loads.  Building these mounds was no small effort.  They brought in stones from as far away as Ohio (and maybe farther).  Why did they do it?  Standing atop the largest mound, over-looking the plaza below, it was easy to imagine people moving around, doing their everyday things.  But what happened on top of this mound?

The sun was starting to set as we left Poverty Point.  We had not made a hotel reservation anywhere - that's just how we roll, most of the time.  The closest town was Delhi, and the nice young woman at the Poverty Point visitor center said there was a motel there, but we decided to drive on to Monroe, Louisiana, thinking the hotel and dining choices might be better.  On the way to Monroe, I noticed "West Monroe" on the map.  I asked The Husband, "Why does 'West Monroe' sound familiar?"  His face lit up when he remembered that the Duck Dynasty folks (of TV fame) have their store in West Monroe.  We drove right on past Monroe.

It was dinner time when we checked into a hotel in West Monroe.  The friendly attendant gave us a book with restaurants and other points of interest.  Our first two restaurant choices were not open on Monday nights (do the folks in West Monroe not EAT on Monday, dang it?!), and when we arrived at the third choice, they wouldn't let us in because a private party had booked the whole place (double dang-it!).  We ended up at a place called "Copeland's," which was a happy accident.  The food was wonderful!  We had bits of duck stuffed with cream cheese and wrapped with bacon.  We had etouffe, and crab-stuffed beignets, and corn and crabmeat bisque.  And for dessert, we ordered (to go) a pumpkin bread pudding with dulce de leche sauce and candied pecans.  OMG!

Tuesday morning, we ate hotel breakfast food, then drove to the Duck Commander store.  We did a little shopping, watched a series of videos about the Duck Dynasty folks, had our picture made in front of a "green screen" - two rednecks holding shotguns.  We had lunch at Willie's Diner, then went downtown to shop Antique Alley.  Finally, about 2 p.m., we pointed the truck toward Tyler, Texas, where my cousin Tammy lives.  Tammy had offered to "put us up" for the night when she found out we were coming through Tyler.  We had a nice dinner with Tammy and her son, and kept her up too late talking about old times and catching up on the latest family news.  It was so good to see them both. 

Wednesday morning, we left for Waco, Texas, where TV personalities Chip and Joanna Gaines have their "Magnolia Market" store.  The place was crawling with people!  It was hard to move around without bumping into someone.  (I asked a cashier if it was always "this much of a mad-house," and he replied that Wednesdays were their "off" days.  I'm glad we were there on their "off" day; I don't like crowds.)  I was a bit disappointed by the inventory in the store - there wasn't a very big variety of stuff - but I thought that the store and the surrounding area were very "Chip and Joanna."  Behind the store was a big, open area, covered in astro-turf and dotted with striped bean bag chairs, where babies toddled and grown men tossed a football.  There was a covered pavilion lined with rows of picnic tables, and food trucks surrounding the lot.  We bought hot dogs and ate them under the pavilion, then drove around Waco to sight-see for a bit.  After that, we drove outside of town to JDH Designs, where metal worker Jimmy Don (who is sometimes featured on the show) has his business.  Jimmy Don was there, and he shook our hands and told us how honored he was that we'd driven all that way to see his shop.  I liked him!

Tammy's brother, Mike, lives in a little town near Waco, and we had arranged a visit with him and his wife, Liz.  Mike met us outside of town when his work day ended, and we followed him out to his place.  Mike and Liz own some land on which they built a house with their own hands.  It is a beautiful house, filled with Liz's paintings and Mike's wood-work.  Mike showed us his collection of arrow heads that he has found over the years, then we went out to the back porch, where we sat and visited until bedtime.  During the evening, Mike's brother Tommy joined us.  I had not seen Mike and Tommy since they were teenagers (too long ago to admit!), and it was wonderful to spend the evening with them and reminisce about old times. 

Mike had left for work when we got out of bed on Thursday morning.  Liz was still there, and we had a few minutes to chat with her before she had to leave for work.  When we were alone, we talked about what we might like to do for the rest of the day.  We had three more days to do as we pleased.  The Husband said, "I think I am ready to go home."  I was ready, too, so we threw our suitcases into the truck and struck out for Tennessee.

We'd planned to spend the night in Texarkana, but there was still a lot of daylight left when we arrived there, so we kept driving and ultimately decided to just come on home.  It was almost 10 p.m. by the time we pulled into our driveway.  We were both stiff and tired and ready for our own bed, and though we had enjoyed every day of our little vacation, it was good to be home!

Honeycomb Campground, Guntersville, AL - June 12 - 15, 2017

We're home from our first camping trip of the year.  We went to Honeycomb Campground, near Guntersville, Alabama.  My only complaint is that the trip wasn't long enough!  We were too late in deciding where to go, and too late in making reservations, and were not able to stay in the campsite past Wednesday night. 

We arrived Monday afternoon.  Although our telephone map programs estimated that it was a 4.5 hour drive, and although we pretty much drove the speed limit all the way, it turned out to be more like a 6-hour trip, driveway to campsite.  We stayed in campsite #44, which is right on the edge of Guntersville Lake.  It was plenty long enough for our 32-foot camper, plus the truck, with room for at least one more car.  The campground has water and electric hookups, but no sewer hookup.  The park has a poop truck that will come around and empty holding tanks for a small fee.

After setting up camp Monday afternoon, we pretty much did nothing but sit and look at the water.  To me, the area around Guntersville is one of the most beautiful places in the U.S.  Guntersville Lake is HUGE - somewhere around 60,000 acres, if I remember correctly.  It's good for boating and fishing.  We had a couple of rods & reels in the camper, and we broke them out and fished a little.  Unfortunately, the area of the lake immediately in front of our camper was crammed with vegetation.  I did snag one little bass out of the grass, but mostly I caught tree trout, stick salmon, and grass cat.  ;)

Tuesday morning, we drove to Steele, Alabama, where there's a little place called Horse Pens 40.  I have been wanting to check it out ever since I found out about it.  The main reason I wanted to go there was that my daddy's ancestors settled in that area in the early 1800s, and I wanted to see it.  The second reason was that they have music festivals there, and campsite hookups (just water and electricity), and I want to go to one of the festivals.  Besides the music festivals, the main attraction is rock climbing (which you will not catch me doing in this lifetime).  We were not thoroughly impressed with the campsites.  It's not the best place for lazy campers, like us, who just want to sit around and admire the scenery.  The rock formations were pretty unique, though, and the area, in general, is beautiful.  We walked the trails a little bit, took a few pictures.  It was hot, though, and we were there in the middle of the day, so we didn't hang around too long.  One word of caution if you're thinking of taking a camper up there:  don't try to get there from State Route 42.  That way is steep, with hairpin curves that will let you see your own tail lights before you make it around the bend!  Take highway 11, instead; it's must easier.

I said, "Climb that rock and let me take your picture."

This is as far as he got.  ;)

The stage at Horse Pens 40.

When we left Horse Pens 40, we decided to take Highway 11 to see what it was like.  It was just our luck that right up there on top of Chandler Mountain, there is ZERO cell phone service (at least, none that we could find).  When we got to the first intersection, we flipped a coin and, naturally, chose the wrong direction.  Still, it was an interesting drive.  They grow tomatoes on Chandler Mountain - acres and acres and ACRES of tomatoes.  I've never seen so many tomato plants in one place in my life!  Eventually, we found our way out.  By the time we to back to "civilization," we were starving.  We have a road rule:  no eating at chain restaurants while traveling.  This seriously limited our choices in Attalla, the first town we came to, so we kept driving up to Boaz, or maybe it was Albertville (hard to tell where one town stops and the other begins), and found a place called "Bubba Rito's."  Hmmm...why not?  It turned out to be pretty good.  They fixed us a big old quesadilla and a big old burrito that fed us for both lunch and dinner.  Good thing, too, because about all we had in the refrigerator was milk, butter, and eggs. 

Wednesday morning after breakfast, we fished a little more.  Caught a bunch of seaweed again, and two pretty good sunburns, but no fish.  Later that afternoon, my cousin Rhonda, who lives about 20 minutes away, came over with her cute little granddaughter and spent the afternoon with us.  Later, we all went to dinner at Top of the River restaurant in Guntersville.  Her husband, Clay, joined us.  The food was good!  The visit was even better!

Alas, our time was up today, and we had to leave.  The trip home was fairly uneventful, except for the freak rain storm in Tishomingo County, Mississippi, that nearly blew us off the road once or twice.  Almost exactly 6 hours after leaving the campground, we arrived at home.  We hadn't taken much food or many clothes, and so unloading the camper was quick and easy.

It's good to be home!

Louisville, Kentucky - April 2017

The Husband attended a work-related seminar in Louisville, Kentucky this week, and I went along for the ride.  We left home around 10 a.m. Sunday, drove at a leisurely pace, and arrived in the middle of the afternoon.  We stayed at the Hyatt Regency on 4th Street, where the seminar was held.  Our room overlooked 4th street, part of which is sectioned off for pedestrian traffic and live music events.  Restaurants, bars, and hotels lined both sides of the street.

 In the early evening, we met up with some fellow seminar attendees and went to dinner at one of those Brazilian steakhouse restaurants where the waiters come around with meat on skewers and feed you until you can't hold another bite.  After dinner, we enjoyed a few drinks in the hotel bar.  Tired from the drive, I left The Husband in the bar and went upstairs to bed.

While he did seminar stuff on Monday, I drove around Louisville by myself, just arbitrarily taking lefts and rights.  I saw some nice things and some not-so-nice things.  My favorite street was Bardstown Road, where there were a lot of eclectic shops and coffee houses.  Dinner that night was "heavy hors d'oeuvres" and drinks in the seminar conference room, then we went out for drinks at a nearby sports bar. 

Tuesday, I drove around again, looking for something to wear to that night's party at Churchill Downs.  The seminar literature had suggested "Kentucky Derby attire" for the party.  Prior to leaving home, The Husband had bought himself a seersucker suit, and I had made a wide-brimmed hat but had not bought a dress.  Here's a secret:  I hate wearing dresses.  Instead of a dress, I opted for capris pants and a comfortable flowing shirt. 








At 6:30 p.m., we boarded a tour bus with about 50 other seminar folks.  We toured Churchill Downs, enjoyed a buffet dinner in the museum, and tasted mint juleps (plural).  The band was terrific.  I ditched the hat long before the evening was over.

 

Wednesday, while The Husband wrapped things up at the seminar, I headed across the river into Indiana, where I nosed around inside a huge flea market.  They let me out of there for under $50.  ;)  That evening, we had dinner at Guy Fieri's restaurant on 4th street (best meat loaf I ever tasted!) and called it a night fairly early. 

Love the black barns.  This one was NOT on stilts, as it appears.  ;)
 

Thursday kicked off the "footloose" part of our trip.  We visited a cousin in Sadieville, Kentucky, then drove through Georgetown, where we had burgers in a little restaurant on the town square.  Our plan was to spend the night in Lexington, then drive to Shepherdsville on Friday for a visit with our niece.  As luck would have it, some horse-racing track was opening on Friday, and all of the decent hotels in Lexington were full.  Since we discovered this fairly early in the evening, we had time to drive on to Shepherdsville, where we found a nice, clean room at a Best Western. 


After a leisurely breakfast Friday morning, we headed out to tour the Jim Beam Distillery.  We had to kill an hour and a half in order to do the tour.  We did that by sampling the wares - a Jalapeno Fizz and an Old Fashioned - on Jim's porch.  ;)  After the tour, we drove to Bardstown and shared a "hot brown" at the Old Talbott Inn.  Later in the evening, we met up with our niece and her husband and had a nice dinner at a nearby steakhouse.

Back at the motel, around midnight, I was awakened by loud voices.  At first, I couldn't tell whether the sound was coming from the hallway or the adjoining room, but as the minutes clicked by and the noises did not recede, I realized that the couple in the next room was having an argument.  I tossed and turned and finally put my pillow over my head, but even that did not drown out the noise.  A loud thump against our wall made both me and The Husband bolt upright.  I leapt out of bed and said, "I'm calling the front desk!" but The Husband was already beating me to it.  He told the desk clerk that there was a "heated argument" happening in the next room.  Within a minute or two, we heard a knock on the door of the adjoining room.  I could not hear the exact conversation, but I gathered that one of the fight participants had left the premises, and all was well.  The rest of the night was peaceful. 

This morning as we were preparing to leave, we noticed a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door of the adjoining room. 

The Husband stealthily removed this sign as we were leaving. 

It rained on us nearly all the way home. 

We made a couple of detours to inspect some potential camping spots we'd seen on the drive up, which added another hour or two to our travel time.  We had stayed at these parks about 20 years ago, when we had our first camper, a pop-up, and thought we might want to go back.  Unfortunately, the camper we have now won't fit into most of those campsites. 

We rolled into our driveway around 5 p.m., hungry and tired.  And there was no food in the house.

Still, it was good to be home. 

2016 - Petit Jean State Park and William Bankhead National Forest

We haven't gone camping nearly enough this year.

In March, we went to Mississippi River State Park.  Loved it.

In June, we camped at Petit Jean State Park for several days.  I am writing this from memory because I forgot to blog about it.

Petit Jean was a pretty nice park, but not our favorite.  It has two campgrounds suitable for RV camping.  One has water and electric hookups and is nicely shaded, and the other has full hookups but many of the camp sites are not shaded.  There are trails to hike (we are not hikers) and boats to rent for fishing/kayaking (we don't do much fishing and neither of us have ever even sat in a kayak).  Aside from those activities, there isn't much else to do in the immediate area.  We took our 11-year-old grandson with us, and he was bored out of his mind much of the time.

The park is on top of Petit Jean mountain.  The road to the park is so steep that our truck almost over-heated pulling the camper up the mountain.  Not far outside the park is a car museum, which our grandson enjoyed for about 15 minutes (though it is a really nice museum).  We were stumped for things to do.  On day 2 of our trip, we drove down to the closest town to buy our grandson a bicycle so that he would have something to do.  Toward the end of the trip, we drove to Mountain View, Arkansas for the day.  We toured Blanchard Springs Caverns, but the highlight of the day for our grandson was a stop (two stops, actually) at a go-kart track, where kids and adults can drive a go-kart around a bend-y track for 10 minutes for $5.  Our grandson loved it, and begged to go back for one more race before we left town.

Yesterday, we came home from a 5-day camping trip to the William Bankhead National Forest near Double Springs, Alabama.  We loved the campgrounds in this park.  There are two campgrounds with about 50 full-hookup sites.  The sites are spacious, level (for the most park), and nicely shaded.  There are a number of pull-through sites.  The campsites on the Yellowhammer Loop are reservable; the sites on the Firefly Loop are first-come, first-served.  Bath-houses were clean and convenient.

We drove all over the area sight-seeing.  There is a HUGE lake (Smith Lake - 20,000+ acres) in the park, with plenty of water access and boat rentals.  We spent the biggest part of one day just driving around looking at the lake.  Not far from the park is a little town called Houston.  Alabama's oldest jail, a tiny log building, is in Houston.  We ate lunch in Houston at a little place called Chef Troy's Talk of the Town.  The food was very good.

On day 2 of our trip, we drove down to Ashville, Alabama (about 2 hours away) so that I could do some genealogy research.  We drove through Cullman, Alabama on our way to Ashville and saw signs for the Ave Maria Grotto.  We did not stop to investigate this place, and later when we picked up some brochures for Cullman and saw pictures of the Grotto, we wished we had stopped there.

In the tiny town of Double Springs, there was a yarn store - Fine Yarns on Main - which I spotted on the first day.  The store wasn't open until Thursday afternoon, so I had to wait to visit it.  It is a very cool store, and the owner is very nice and very instructive.  Check it out if you knit or crochet or needle felt.

I was not ready to come home when our reservations were up on Friday, but we had to get back to the grind.  It rained on us a good bit of the way home, and so we were very glad to top the last hill and see our little house waiting for us.

Mississippi River State Park Camping Trip March 2016

We un-winterized the camper, laid in some provisions, and packed ourselves off to Marianna, Arkansas for a four-day camping trip to the Mississippi River State Park. 

http://www.arkansasstateparks.com/mississippiriver/

Folks, I gotta tell you, this is one of the coolest campgrounds we've ever visited. It is located on Bear Creek Lake (the fishing is pretty good there, I'm told), about 5 miles outside of Marianna, Arkansas.  The campsites are situated on fingers of land that jut out into the lake.  

If asked for one tip about camping in this park, I'd say, "Make your reservations early."  There are only 14 RV sites, so the campground fills up fast.  All of the sites have full hook-ups - water, electricity, and sewer.  There are two or three pull-through sites.  All of the campsites looked level, with plenty of room to park a long camper and a vehicle or two.  All of them are right on the water, and there are little docks and park benches scattered around.  The campsites are nicely spaced apart, so you're not stuffed up in someone's back door.  We stayed in campsite 14.  It is surrounded by water on three sides.  It had a nice picnic table, a clean grill, and a good-sized fire ring.  We could walk 10 or 12 feet from our camper door and wet a fishhook in the lake.   Site 14 is probably pretty shady when the trees fully leaf-out.  Next time, we're going to try for campsite 4, which looked especially roomy and cool and is semi-secluded.  Campsites 12 and 13 would be great "buddy" sites.  

There are also a number of really cool tent-camping sites on the other side of the lake, all of which are also near the water.  (The RV sites also have tent spots.)

The visitor center at the park has cool books, fishing gear, gifts, and typical park souveniers.  You can buy drinks and light snacks there, but don't expect to find bread, milk, etc.  They'll sell you a 3-day fishing license for $16.  The park rangers put on campfire circles and programs about local wildlife.  While we were there, one of the rangers led a "full moon kayak tour" of the lake from 7 p.m. until 8:30 p.m.  (We did not participate in that, as the weather had turned colder than a well-digger's hind end, but The Husband says he will do it if we're ever there when it's warm.)

We arrived in the middle of the day on Thursday, March 17.  It was pretty easy to back our 30-foot rig into the campsite, and it didn't need much leveling.  After setting up, we drove back up to the visitor center (a few miles up the road), where we officially registered (we'd made reservations a month earlier when we went over to scout out the place) and bought fishing licenses and bait (they have minnows, worms, jigs, and stinky stuff in jars).  We baited our hooks and went to fishin' the minute we got back to the camp.  The fish were biting slow.  I snagged 4 little bream as the afternoon wore on.  (Kinda hurt The Husband's feelings, because he didn't catch any.  I told him the fish were smart and knew which hook the *real* fisher-person had baited.)  Come dark, the park got quiet as the fishermen went home.  The weather was nice and warm, and we sat outside for a while, listening to the cooing of doves.

Speaking of birds, keep an eye on the geese.  They will hiss at you if you get up close and personal with them.  Also, there's a woodpecker there who drills on the top of a metal light pole; apparently, he just digs the sound.   Bbbbrrrrrrrt.  Bbbbbrrrrrrrrrt.

Friday morning, we got up, cooked breakfast, and went back to fishing.  That day, The Husband caught all the fish, and I didn't catch any.  Fickle old fish.  I gave up, went back to the camper (all of 12 feet away), and dragged out my craft stuff.  It was wonderful to play with my toys outside in the warm sunshine.  As the afternoon wore on, the wind picked up and my supplies started blowing off the table, so I mixed up a nice gin & tonic (shhhhhh, don't tell!) and relaxed with a book while The Husband continued to battle the fish.  By suppertime, the wind was really cold, whipping straight out of the north.  Our cell phone weather maps showed a cloud coming.  Thinking we'd better get the supper cooked before the rain hit, we lit the grill at 5 p.m., but it would hardly stay hot enough to cook our food!  We put on jackets and pulled our hoods up and put our hands in our pockets and hunched our backs to the wind while the meat cooked.  As soon as it was edible, we snatched it off the grill and hurried inside for the night.  We never got much rain, but the wind was fierce, and it broad-sided the camper so hard that it rocked all night.  We were glad that the campsite was ringed with big trees so that if we got blown over, at least we wouldn't go in the lake!

I got up at 7 o'clock Saturday morning, plugged in the coffee pot, and peered out the window.  The sky was over-cast, and the wind was still whipping so hard that the lake was white-capping.  I could see the boat ramp across the lake and was surprised to see dozens of boats in the water, just lined up along the bank near the ramp.  A few boats began to troll the inlets near the campsites.   I could not believe that so many people would want to fish in this weather and worried that there had been some kind of emergency until I realized that there were no emergency vehicles - no police cars, no ambulance.  At a few minutes until 8, all the boats lined up, and at 8 sharp, they all TOOK OFF like rockets in all directions.  Fishing tournament!   You couldn't have paid me to stand up in a boat on that lake, like the fishermen were doing, as cold and windy as it was!   We ate our breakfast and got the heck outta there for a while with a trip to the nearest get-it-all store, 25 miles away in West Helena.  It warmed up a tad and the wind died down a little after lunch.  We fished a little more, trying out the new rods and reels we'd bought in West Helena, but we didn't catch a thing.  We didn't even attempt to light the grill that night.

It was still cold and windy Sunday morning as we battened down the camper for the trip home.  Even though there is not much to do in the area, I could have stayed there for days and days if the weather had been warmer.  As it was, I was glad to start home, and glad that  home was just 2 hours away.

BamaGanza 2015 - Noccalula Falls

For our "FROGgy" friends, some pics from BamaGanza 2015.  We had a great time!  A big thanks to Bob, Dennis, and the many helpers who helped make this such an enjoyable rally.  Another big thanks to the Forest River folks, Hood RV, and Bankston RV for the food and entertainment.

Folks, you gotta watch this guy.  He will steal your grandbaby right out from under your nose!  ;)

Forbes and Forbess.  

Fort Payne and Gadsden Camping Trip – October 11-18, 2015

We just got home from a week-long camping trip to northeastern Alabama. We’d signed up to attend a Forest River Owners Group (FROG) camper rally at Noccalula Falls in Gadsden from Thursday the 15th until Sunday the 18th. Not seeing any wisdom in chopping a perfectly good week of vacation in two, we took the whole week off, left on the 11th, and pulled the camper down to Desoto State Park, right outside Fort Payne, to hang out there until time to move to Noccalula Falls. We had camped at Fort Payne years ago, when we had our first bumper pull camper, and remembered loving the place. We tried to go back a few years later, but the campground was closed for renovation. Since Desoto is less than an hour from Noccalula, we decided to re-visit the place and check out the renovations.

Overlooking the Tennessee River just east of Scottsboro, AL

Desoto Falls

The area along the Tennessee/Georgia/Alabama junction is a seriously beautiful place. Waterfalls, wooded hills, rocks, rivers…. When camping in that part of the world, we spend our days sight-seeing, sometimes with a specific destination in mind, but sometimes driving aimlessly just to see the countryside. On our first full day at Desoto, we made a swing by the "big" Desoto Falls, 5 miles or so from the park, on our way to check out Cloudland Canyon in northern Georgia, just a step over the Alabama line. We were about a week or two too early to see the fall colors at their peak, but it was still beautiful. We went back to Desoto via Mentone, Alabama, which is about as picturesque place as you’ll ever find.



A waterfall at Cloudland Canyon

In Mentone

 This was the second time we’d driven to Mentone. The first time, we stopped to check out the quaint-looking restaurants and log cabin shops that squatted alongside the road, but were disappointed to discover that none of them were open. I don’t remember what day of the week that was - could’ve been a Sunday, or late on a Saturday afternoon, but we didn’t find a soul at home. When we drove through this time, it was 2 p.m. on a Monday afternoon. None of the quaint shops were open. It was like a ghost town. Two restaurants were open, but one had a 30 minute wait and one was almost out of food. We were, like, "Whaaaat? 2 o’clock on a Monday?" Thankfully, a waitress directed us to a convenience store across the road where we ate burgers – none of that bean sprout and avocado and portabello crap – just good old-fashioned lettuce-pickle-onion burgers, in a simple but spotless dining room that might have been a garage, once upon a time. Back at the camp site that evening, we grilled a steak, hooked up the cable, and The Husband kicked back and watched TV while I started the Davy Crockett autobiography I’d picked up in the Cloudland gift shop.

Tuesday morning, I woke up with a screaming sore throat. As we were expecting children and grandchildren to join us the next day, I decided I’d better get some medicine in me. We drove down to a walk-in medical clinic in Fort Payne. The doctor, I’m guessing by his accent, was not native to the U.S. I told him what was wrong. When he reached for his ahhh-stick, I told him to put it away, as I could hold down my own tongue. When he said he was going to give me a shot of antibiotics and steroids, I told him I’d prefer antibiotics in pill form, thank-you, and no steroids, please. When he offered to give me a prescription for pain medicine, I declined. He tapped a few things on his computer, then turned around and asked me if I had a regular physician at home. I said I did. He then asked, without even a hint of a smile, "And do you also tell HIM what to do?"

While I was bossing the doctor around, The Husband was googling something to do in the area. He found a glass-blowing place called Orbix not far away, where you could blow your own glass ornaments, and we drove up there to see it.  http://orbixhotglass.com/   The place was on a breezy green hill in the middle of NOWHERE. We drove up, parked the truck, and walked around the porch. There was an office/shop, but the doors were open in the kiln area, and they let us walk right through the "factory" to some benches along the porch on the other side, where we sat and watched three guys pulling globs of molten glass from furnaces and turning them into impossibly beautiful delicate things. Although they want you to make an appointment if you want to blow your own glass ornament, the main guy would have let us try it and even coaxed me to try it when he found out I really wanted to, but he backed off when I said, "But I have strep throat, and you probably don’t want me putting my mouth on your pole thingy." A rather awkward few seconds passed before he agreed that it was probably not the best day for me to try glassblowing. We said we would just buy an ornament in the retail shop, and hurried off to choose one. There were four elderly ladies looking around the shop, and one of them told us that they’d come up highway 275 to get there, and that it had been a most harrowing drive. After we made our purchase, The Husband felt it necessary to see what highway 275 was like instead of going back the way we had come.  

Think roller coaster.

We passed by one road that bore a sign encouraging people NOT to drive down it. "WARNING: DANGER." Naturally, The Husband had to investigate. At the end of the road, we found a beautiful, serene lake in a narrow valley. 



Little Canyon Falls
 

Had to put the truck in low gear to get back out to 275 again. 275 follows the rim of the Little River Canyon and comes out near Little River Falls. We did not go to the little falls that day, opting to wait and go with the children and grandchildren when they joined us the next day. They arrived mid-afternoon, and we drove down to the little falls. If faced with the choice of seeing Desoto Falls or the Little River
, go for the latter. It is just so beautiful, and if you pick the more difficult walking path and if the water is low, you can walk out on the rocks and dip your toes in the cool water. Careful! Those rocks are slippery.





Noccalula
 

Thursday, we hitched up and moved to Noccalula for the FROG rally. I believe that Noccalula is owned by the city of Gadsden. There are full hook-up sites, and most of the sites are nice and level, but they are very close together. Don’t plan on just dropping by there on a whim and getting a campsite; I’m told it’s booked months in advance. We FROGs almost had the whole thing reserved for this rally. It is a good place for such events. There is a nice pavilion with picnic tables, and a good-sized hall for indoor group functions. I did not check out the bathroom facilities, but I heard they were acceptable. Next door to the campground is Noccalula Falls Park, where we rode a little train around the park. They have a pioneer village, a petting zoo, and several playgrounds that the children enjoyed.

Our Halloween Decorating Contest entry

The FROG rally was fun. There was a Halloween/Fall decorating contest, two group breakfasts sponsored by local RV dealers, a pot luck dinner, and a bbq dinner sponsored by Forest River and the RV dealers. The Granddaughters (with a little guidance from the grown-ups) decorated our campsite with witches and spiders and eyeballs and bats. The winning campsites were announced on Saturday evening, after The Granddaughters had gone home; the girls were delighted when we let them know that they had won the prize (a set of kitchen towels and some scrubbers) for the creepiest decorations.

We pulled out for home at 11:30 Sunday morning. Instead of going back the way we had come (across highway 72), we took the interstate down to Birmingham, then 78 back to west Tennessee. Got home about 6:30. After a week away, it was truly good to be home.