Month: May 2023

This is one of Paula’s favorites to talk about, I think mainly because she was driving at the time, and I was navigating! This was back in the beginning of our Travels and it is titled:

“Would You Like A Sunroof With That Sir?

Scene: Officers Jim Reed and Pete Malloy (Kent McCord / Martin Milner) in Squad Car patrolling streets on the outskirts of Corpus Christi, Texas. Usual banter between them when the radio crackles to life:

“One Adam -Twelve, see the man in the motorhome stuck under the Route 77 northbound underpass to Labonte Park.”

Reed: “Roger Dispatch, we’re on our way.” (Turning to Malloy) “Again?”

Malloy: (Shaking his head in disgust) “Jeez! When are these motorhome Bozos gonna learn that you can’t squeeze large solid objects under a low bridge? It’s not like there isn’t a sign there!”

Reed: “Yea, this’ll make it, what, three so far this week? I wish I had the local RV roof repair concession around here!”

Malloy: (Rolling his eyes) “Wonder what we’ll find this time, the last guy was going so fast he peeled it back like a can of sardines! Did you catch the look on his wife’s face? Boy was she pissed!”

Reed: (Laughing) “Yea, I’ll bet she made him get a third job just to pay for it!”

Malloy: (Pointing out of the windshield) “We’ll find out soon enough, there they are!

Reed and Malloy exit their squad car and peer up at the top of the motorhome which is now sporting a brand-new Sunroof. All of the satellite domes, A/C units, and antennae which were once sprouting proudly from the roof, are now deposited in a jumbled mess behind the motorhome.

          Well, that’s TV for you, always exaggerating the specifics to get ratings! I guess that could have been the scenario, but as Sergeant Joe Friday would say, “Just the facts Ma’am, only the facts”, here is the true story of the “Close-Encounter of the Underpass Kind”.

          We were travelling on Route 77, just north of Corpus Christi, Texas. It was getting close to lunchtime and it was time to switch drivers, so we started looking for places to pull into. Paula was driving and I was Navigator. Looking at the map and my Google app, I could see this Labonte Park coming up soon. I suggested that we use that for our stop. It was located on the other side of the road, but typically, these parks are accessible to both sides, so we watched for the signs. Sure enough, we immediately spied the usual brown “Park” type signage coming up. Getting into the right lane, more signs, ok, here is the ramp, nice straight exit bringing us down a sloping grade and running parallel to the highway for some time. We could see that we were going to be directed left and under the roadway to the Park on the other side.

It was a good thing that the road had a right-angle turn to it which basically brings us to a stop before making the turn because there in front of us was the Underpass. Not just any underpass mind you, it was the sinister looking one with plenty of pre-existing damage to its concrete and steel.

          Grind to a halt.

          Signage reads 12’ 6”

          We are about 12’ 3’’

          Should be able to clear it, but….

          Ok, get your Geometry books out now, the approach to said underpass was not level! There was a small ramp getting into and out of it. We are 40’ long with the wheelbase shorter than that but if one set of tires is down and on level ground while the other set is still on higher ground, that actually increases our effective height! And besides, who did, and where from, were these measurements taken? Remember, these are the same people who did not bother to put up any Low Clearance signs before exiting the highway, and guess what?

           It’s a One-Way ramp going down to this turn!

          Trapped!

          I got out of the motorhome to survey the situation. In the meantime, an older couple who were fishing at the end of the road by the underpass, were frantically waving their arms at us in an effort to stop us before we came to disaster. I exited the motorhome and the gentleman said to me,

          ”Yo gonna hafta call the Poeleece ta getcha backed up da ramp!”

          We agreed.

          No sense in even trying to get under it. Even with one person outside to eyeball it and other driving, it just was not worth it. So, onto the phone we went. Three transfers later we finally got to the correct dispatcher who handles the “Motorhomes stuck at a one-way dead end because there is low clearance underpass and can’t get through” situations.

They all were very nice and it wasn’t too long before the Officer from the Corpus Christi Police Department showed up.

          Grinning from ear to ear, he immediately put us at ease and even jokingly asked if I could do one of those high-speed J-turns that whip you around basically in the same spot. When he learned that Paula was driving at the time, his kidding got even more intense. Paula was a good sport about it and threw me “under the bus” because it was my suggestion that we come down this way. The Officer lamented to us that the State (isn’t it always the State?) D.O.T. does not have adequate signage on the highway warning everyone of a possible height issue.

So, we got a Police Escort back up the one-way ramp. He then blocked traffic so that I could execute a many faceted K, J, L, (pick a letter) turn and get onto the ramp to the highway.  Then drove over the grass to get behind us (still with lights a-flashing) to help us get up to speed without being rammed from behind.

          This officer was so pleasant and witty that we did not mind our short delay on our northbound journey.

          Paula remarked, “This will make a good post!”

          Hopefully, it did.

I tried to find a song that conveyed the feeling of coming back home to New Jersey.

                             I could not find one.

                   Take Me Home, Country Roads…. Nope

                             We are nowhere near the Blue Ridge Mountains.

                   Sweet Home Alabama (New Jersey)…. Nope

                             Nobody calls NJ “Sweet Home.”

                   Green, Green Grass of Home…. Nope   

                             I don’t even know anyone named Mary.

                   Homeward Bound ….. ehh, maybe?

                             Getting closer, at least they’re from NYC!

                   Born to Run…… Now we’re talkin’!

                             This is it!

                             For all of you that live here, you know what I mean…

                             For those of you that live in far off places like Florida, Oregon , or Michigan, I will try to explain. There is no other place on the planet like New Jersey.

                             We are tiny.

                             We are crowded.

                             We have an attitude.

                             We have the best pizza.

                             We have awesome Superfund Sites.

                             And we have Frank Sinatra, Whitney Houston, Frankie Valli, Jon Bon Jovi, The Rascals, Dionne Warwick, Gloria Gaynor, The Happenings, Ricky Nelson, Sarah Vaughn, Connie Francis, The Shirlelles, Deborah Harry, Ice-T, Count Basie, Clint Black, Charlie Puth, The Jonas Brothers, Halsey, Lesley Gore, and of course, The Boss….. Bruce.

                             The Born To Run lyrics are definitely not the most uplifting words to ever hit the airwaves…..

                             “At night we ride through the mansions of glory in suicide machines… Sprung from cages on Highway 9…”

                             I LOVE Highway 9! A classic local state highway that winds its way past and through all of the great New Jersey shore towns….. Asbury Park, Seaside Heights, Barnegat, Atlantic City, and Wildwood, just to name a few.

                             “Oh baby, this town rips the bones from your back,

 It’s a death trap, a suicide rap, we gotta get out while we’re young….”

                    See what I mean?

But it’s Jersey…..

My daughter in Colorado has two tee-shirts, one says,

Welcome to New Jersey,

Now Get Out!

The other one says,

New Jersey

Only the Strong Survive

                   Those two shirts just about sum it all up.

                   But… it’s home!

                   We knew we were getting closer to home when on I-80 eastbound out of Pennsylvania, just before the Delaware Water Gap, everything ground to a halt. Looking at Google Maps we could see the solid red line (indicating stopped traffic) stretching all the way across the Delaware River and two more miles into New Jersey.

As we inched along, we eventually came to a sign that read “One and a half miles – Left Lane Closed Ahead.” Well, that explained it. When we finally covered those 1.5 miles, squeezed down into one lane, and crept along for another two miles, we happened upon the source of this absurd backup. There was a guy in the left lane of this (two lanes only) major East/West interstate and he was working on a storm grate, putting some extra tar around it, I guess to make it waterproof.

                                      I da know…. You can’t make this stuff up!

                   Mind you we made it all the way from Texas to the Delaware River without even the slightest hint of any traffic/travel issues!

                                      Until.

                                      Until New Jersey.

                   And that was just the beginning!

                                      We needed exit onto Rt. 94 towards Blairstown for the final twenty miles or so until we hit Yetter’s Diner, our “campground” for the summer. Believe it or not (and if you’re from these parts you totally believe this) we had three more “Lane Closures” on this last leg adding an additional 45 minutes to a trip that should have taken only 30 to begin with!

                                      Finally we pulled into our reserved spot at the Diner. They were very happy to see us, they always are. We surprised them, we just showed up and went in for lunch.

                                      This where the good stuff starts.

                                      New Jersey Diner food!

                                      It really is like no other!

                   And for the record, the state is not all bad, in fact, when you get to know it and all of its specialties and peculiarities, it kind of grows on you…..

                             Oh, and we have Bucky Pizzarelli, the famed American Jazz guitarist and his son John Pizzarelli, who wrote a song a tad more positive then Born to Run….. It’s called; I Like Jersey Best

                   Just for fun Google it and have a listen, it’s got a catchy hook and is quite clever.

                                      I’ll leave it at that  😊

Here are two more older Posts. They are self-explanatory……

The first one is entitled…..

“On The Road Again…..”

Willy Nelson stopped by the campfire last night.

          We had our usual good time just singin’ and playin’ our guitars.

          Not really, I can’t sing a note as anyone in my family can attest to,  and, besides,  the only thing I can play is the radio.

          But when “On the Road Again” popped into my head when thinking of a title for this post, well……

          Today is Wednesday (4 AM as I write this) and as I put my best “Travelogue Narrator’s” voice on here,

          “We bid a fond farewell to Durango and her neighbors as we drive ever Westward in search of the Perfect Walmart Parking Lot. So until we meet again, Adios! Durango, someday we’ll find our way back to you and your skyline of awe-inspiring mountain ranges.”

          What a load of crap.

          My daughter lives here and it is one of our Bases here in the West.          Of course, we’ll be back!

          But today is a Travel Day! Another “Ho-hum-incredibly-great-weather-as-usual” kind of day that abounds in this area. Our next destinations are several stops in Arizona where two of Paula’s cousins live. We have a few days to get there and luckily there is no shortage of sights along the way.                                                                                             The Drive itself may be rewarding enough, especially with the Gigundo Vista Visage Bug-Splattering Windshield in front of us. Our route takes us through Northwest New Mexico, past Shiprock and the Four Corners Monument, which because of an exceedingly embarrassing surveying error, is not, in fact, positioned at the precise location of the intersection of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah. (Maybe Willy stopped by their campfire the night before they went to work and they all had some extra libations, et al, if you catch my drift.) Oh well, at least it makes for a good story!                                                                               All of this is on the expansive Navajo Indian Nation’s Reservation or The Rez, as it is locally known. It is the largest Reservation in the nation, totaling a little over 27,000 square miles of desert, open range, and some of the largest coal deposits on the planet. To give you a perspective on how large it is, New Jersey is around 8000 square miles in size. Interestingly, and probably much to the chagrin of the Hopi Nation, the reservation entirely surrounds the Hopi’s Reservation. This issue has been around for a while, and of course the U.S. Government and their incredibly bad record of handling Native American affairs, compounded the problems. But, if you go back far enough, the Hopi’s, who still live in Pueblos,  have a much better argument for living here because it is easy to trace their history back to the Ancestral Puebloans (Anasazi) whose relics and cliff dwellings abound in this region. The Navajo where a nomadic tribe from areas much to the north of here.                                                                                                         But, back to our route. We had planned on visiting Navajo National Monument, a part of the National Park Service, but it is closed due to the Covid Deal. It seems that Covid hit the Navajo with more severity than any surrounding populations.  So we are probably going to pass that by in favor of two NPS Parks a little further south and they are Wutpaki N.P. (one of the Ancestral Puebloans site ) and its neighbor Sunset Crater N.P. (this entire area is rife with old volcano activity). 

          This is the area that we plan to “Boondock” in. Boondocking is the term given to just parking and staying, not hooked up to any utilities. Even staying in the aforementioned Walmart parking lot is considered boondocking. The site will be on Bureau of Land Management land, (BLM for short) which is just public land that can be used for just about anything that is legal.  BLM land does have some practical regulations having to do with the likes of fires in the dry season and not destroying the Ancestral Puebloan sites, the majority of which, lie within BLM management areas, all across the Colorado Plateau. This is the geographic term given to the expansive land uprising that starts around Flagstaff, Arizona and continues northward and eastward thru Utah, New Mexico, and Colorado.

          Enough of the Geography lesson. No worries, you are all just auditing this course, there are no quizzes, and it is not even pass/fail.    It is just for fun. 😊   

(Same day, Later in the Evening,  7PM)

          The trip today went as planned.

           Ho-Hum gorgeous weather.

          300 Miles of Western Desert Scenery.

          Zero Traffic

          And not even one Interstate Highway!

          All was good until we got to the entrance to the Four-Corners Monument.

          Closed.

          Now I can understand how Covid has affected many areas and has wreaked havoc on many a Travel Plan. But this particular site is a giant concrete pad with the outlines of the four boundaries intersecting at perfect right angles.  One does not need a Guide to interpret this.        Maybe they are afraid of vandals, but really, this place could have been made available. So undaunted, we went off into the desert, I took out my phone, went on Google Maps, found the real Four Corners, drew our own State Boundary Lines, and stood in all four States at once!

          Not really, but it would have been fun to try! We had kind of a schedule to keep because the place where we were planning to Boondock today is a National Forest, administered in the same way as BLM land and therefore needed some reconnoitering to find a decent (level) campsite.

          Arriving too close to dark is taboo.

          So back into the Whale we clambered and continued on our way. This day was the antithesis of most of our other travel days so far, so there are no hair-raising or near-catastrophic stories to tell.

          Sorry about that.

          But I’m not!

          We arrived here in the Cocochino National Forest a little after three in the afternoon and as it turns out, non-too soon. The area is well used, and the sites scattered among the pines were many and varied. They are absolutely, slam-dunk, perfect for Camping.                                                   Especially if you have tent.                                                                                 Or a Pop-Up.                                                                                                                Or a Pick-up with a Camper in theback.                                                          

Or a small travel trailer.                                                                                  

Maybe even a smaller, traditional RV.

          But NOT a Full-Size Big-Ass Coach.

Hey! What did we know? We wandered our way in on the more than adequate graveled road and looked for sites for us to occupy. I felt like we were in Goldilocks and the Three Bears…..

          “This one is too small”.

          “This one is too rocky”.

          “This one is not level enough”.

          We tried one that looked promising, but after we tried to level and were unsuccessful, we spent an inordinate amount of time trying to extricate ourselves from the clutches of the various trees and rocks that seemed to pop up after we entered this site. Paula outside on her cell phone communicating with me inside, frantically working the controls in an attempt not to get too many scratches on our pretty baby. Well, let’s just say we finally managed to exit, and we will only need a few Band-Aids to fix her up.

          Undaunted (and we really liked it here, plus we did not want to be the guests of Walmart of Flagstaff ), we tried the other direction.

          Nope.

          Nope.

          Nope.

          Ahh…. Maybe?

          I exited the coach and looked around. Level looked good. Trees spaced nicely. Exit without backing even appeared ok. So, in we went and held our breaths as the leveling process began. It’s not that we can’t park in a spot that isn’t level, it’s just that we need to be level to put the slides out, which makes it way nicer to be inside walking around, cooking , bathrooms, etc.

          There is an Auto-Level System aboard the senses our attitude and adjusts accordingly. But it does have its limits, so finding a spot that is fairly level to begin with is a necessity.

          Finally, after many big tweaks, and then some tiny tweaks, the Leveling Lady decided that we were good!

          We went for walk around and to check out our new neighborhood. We found that there were other like-minded folks in the area and that made us feel good. They are probably looking over at us and wondering who the big jerks are that drove a Giant Class A Coach into the woods.  Spying our Jersey license plates, I am sure they just shook their heads in understanding. Can’t wait to get the Texas tags on!

          Back inside, dinner, some cards, and now some Zzzzzz’s.

——————————————————————–

Now for the Second One, and it is entitled ……

“Deep In The Heart of Texas!”

If California is a State of Mind

Then

Texas is a State of Being.

          There are other States that started out as independent countries: Vermont, Hawaii, Oregon, and several other entities, most of them relatively short-lived, but by far the most famous and successful as an independent country is Texas. Texas, as a republic, was in existence for about twelve years in the mid 1800’s. California’s flag has the words California Republic emblazoned on it but, in reality, the “Bear Flag Revolt” lasted only 25 days in 1846. I’ve seen (more than once) the Texas flag flown here all by itself. No American flag above it. Nothing disrespectful mind you. Texas is as patriotic as any state, just a tad more “independent” as it were.

          So, why you are probably asking yourself, is he giving us a stupid history lesson on Texas and random Statehoods?

          I can answer that my friends.

          It is because of a Gas Station.

          Not just any relatively ubiquitous, monotonous, stale breakfast sandwich, and dirty restroom convenience store gas station. I am talking about the Holy Grail of this genre,

Buc-ees

          It seems to me that after visiting one of this Company’s wonderful entities, that the reason that they exist is because of Texas.

          Big.

          No, that does not do it justice.

          How about Massive?

          Now we’re getting somewhere.

          The phrase “Big as Texas” is not just a local slogan. It is a mentality that seems pervasive down here. By rights, this State is big! It can take days to get across it. Alaska is larger but no one lives there. California is long, but no one remembers that they live there.

           The Buc-ees mascot/logo guy is a caricature of a beaver (with buck-teeth) that looks like he could be a relative of Rocky the Flying Squirrel from Rocky and Bullwinkle. His face is on everything that you could possibly market and it is all done with great success.

          A Buc-ees  would probably do well in other states also, but its genesis probably could have only been in Texas.

          Let us start with the obvious.

          Gas Pumps .

          Back East we have Quick Check, Wawa, 7-11, Sheetz, Raceway, Exxon, and a host of other national chains that have enough pumps at them that you can feel comfortable enough to leave your car there and go inside for a purchase or two.

          Buc-ees has over 70 pumps.

          You could park there all day and probably no one would notice!

          Bathrooms.

          Some of these establishments do a better job than others in this department. But, it’s a crapshoot, sometimes good, sometimes (well you know what the other side is here).

          Are they “one-holers”?

          Is there a line?

          Are they even clean?

          Squeaky-Clean?

          Buc-ees has 35 urinals in the Men’s Room separated by walls. I know this because I counted them.

          How about stalls?

          No flimsy partitions here.

          Solid masonry walls with doors separates you from your neighbor. This is also the configuration in the Ladies Room. I do not know this as an eyewitness fact, but I do have it from reliable sources. No waiting here ladies, there are just as many “sites” in your room as is the Men’s Room, all with the same solid construction.

          Clean?

          You bet!

          Crazy clean!

          Now let us step out into the Retail and Food Area.

          You can do your Christmas Shopping here and get a delicious, home cooked, truly Texas-Chef Inspired meal. I had a pulled-pork sandwich (because I always have that wherever I go) and it was as good as any roadside, authentic, Big Bubba’s BBQ places that I’ve been to.

          Prices.

          More than fair, especially when you get all these other extras at no charge. Get a load of the drink prices in the photo! Everything else is competitively priced, and the fuel prices are the starting point. I even bought the DEF Fluid (used in diesel powered motors) for about half of what I was paying elsewhere.

          And get this,

          NO TRACTOR TRAILERS ARE ALLOWED!

          Just cars and RV units

          Not there is anything wrong with 18-wheelers, it is just that they have their own truck stops. This is like a truck stop for cars, lets call it a Car Stop!

          Would you like a giant Fire-Pit?

          How about a large BBQ or Smoker?

          Yep! Got them too! Texas Sized!

          Hopefully, I have painted enough of a picture for you to see how this business is Texas born and bred. As crazy as this seems, a stop at Buc-ees is a must when you visit here and apparently the go-to place for the local population also.

          Can you imagine having visiting relatives over and saying to them, “I’m going to bring you to Quick Check! Wait ‘til you see this!”

          Nope.

          Cannot even imagine that.

__________________________________________________

Thanks for reading these Oldies, I hope that you are enjoying them!

Just yesterday we visited a Buc-ees on our way back from Trader Joes. Somehow it is impossible not to stop at one of these Perfect Petroleum Palaces and get something, anything…. it’s that good!

Everyone in favor of having a Class Trip to Buc-ees raise your hands!

Yes! Just as I thought!

Permission slips will be in your backpacks when you leave today!

Well, the Great Oil Change of 2023 has been performed by the masters over at The Truck Center, a beautifully maintained, spotless facility, just a few miles from where we live. These folks are our “Go To” experts when we are down here. You may remember last year at this time we were experiencing some DEF issues and it was these guys that dropped what they were doing (they had about a two-week scheduling backup) and worked feverishly to get us going again. They are a pleasure to work with.

                             Anyway, as I wrote the other day, this Event comes complete with its own Majestic Invoice which this time arrived with just a tad more majesty than previously. The reason for the grandioseness  of it was the inclusion of an innocuous air filter. These babies are the size of a small trash bin and have the price tag of a large diamond. It’s a good thing that (if it’s not too dirty) it can be “blown out” using compressed air and that will get you another “use cycle”. It appears that was what happened last time and now, 20,000 miles later, it was too far gone. So, an appropriate Memorial Service was hastily prepared and when it was over the new air filter was commissioned and installed as the Reigning Filter of Airs. Miss Motor is now breathing a little easier and when you are gulping the amount of air that a diesel motor dragging around a 28, 000-pound motorhome does, well, it can make a huge difference!

                             We drove up to College Station to top off the tank. This is a fifty-mile round trip. You may ask,

                   “Why Don, do you go that far out of the way to procure fuel that can be had just around the corner?”

                   Good question my inquiring amigos!

                   The reasons are mainly these:

                   A. The price was significantly cheaper than locally and,

                   B. I wanted to put some miles on the entire system before setting out for the East Coast. She hadn’t been exercised since early January and you never know what bug-a-boos and/or gremlins have crept in whilst we were away. I am happy to report that it was a fine outing, and everyone behaved themselves except the air conditioning and that may just need a “charging”.

                   When we got back home I took advantage of being “out” and drove up onto our concrete pad so that the rear end hung out over the end of the pad, which is opposite of the way that we normally park. I wanted to check the condition of the inside two tires of the dual wheel set-up that is in the back. These tires cannot be seen without crawling underneath or taking the outer tires off. These two are original tires and while the milage is ok, the “time” factor can be an issue. Luckily these inside tires are not subject to the UV rays of sunlight so that helps out in this situation. I did my inspection and did not find any obvious signs of tire “rot” or anything of that nature.

                             Phew!

                   But, upon crawling out I did notice that under the DEF tank chassis, there was more than enough of a rust issue. This is what happens when you get underneath any vehicle and actually see what goes on down there! Any of you that live in the Northeast or anywhere that there is a possibility of snow and ice…. Well,  you may not want to look underneath your car because it will scare you to death! All of that stuff that they put down on the roads in order for us to drive at ninety miles an hour in any type of road conditions, can, and will, take its toll on your undercarriage!

                                      So, out came the scrapers and rotary wire brushes used in an attempt to get the metal down to an acceptable state of cleanliness in order to put a coat of Rust Primer on and finish it off with a coat of flat black. It’s not that the metal was ready to crumble or anything like that, it’s just that it was staring me in the face, and I am retired, so that means that I have the time, and I also had the supplies already in my handy-dandy-I-carry-almost-everything-with-me tool and supply department!

                   So I spent the better part of the next two hours underneath trying to work at odd angles in an attempt to both scrape and paint. The only ones who suffered anything were my arms and shoulders. The recipients of all this attention were delighted and are wishing that their new “duds” could be paraded around for all to see, but unless you look at the accompanying photos (or crawl underneath) they are destined for a life of obscurity.

                             The planned extrication of our stay here in Texas is only three days away so all these preparations are now at a feverish pitch!

                             Not really, we could leave just about any time now because yesterday while the oil change was in progress we made our way to the local Trader Joes (an hour and a half away) and procured all of the Necessary Emergency Snacks (and Food) for the journey.

                   We probably will not be losing any weight on the trip North.

I went back to the beginning of our travels and extricated a few short ones that introduce you to the Motorhome Madness way of driving around, particularly on our most unfavorite road around, that of Interstate 10. Here for your amusement (at our nerve-wracking expense) are some of those examples.

The first one is entitled Goin Down the Bayou and was published in the beginning of October, 2020 while on our first trip down here from New Jersey to Texas…….

Goin’ Down the Bayou

          I consider myself a fairly accomplished driver. I’ve been driving since 1972 and when I worked for Ritter Food and Sysco, I would routinely drive 1000 miles a week because of the size of my selling territory. Route 80 in rush hour and the screamingly busy New Jersey Turnpike were just another walk in the park to me. I have even driven a NASCAR race car at Pocono Speedway.

                A few days ago, (our second full day on the road) I experienced what was probably the worst and most stressful 45 minutes of driving in my life.

          Some sicko in the Louisiana DOT designed a highway that runs from Baton Rouge, Louisiana to Lafayette, Louisiana. It is Interstate Route 10. Running basically in a straight line following an almost perfect East / West tangent, it is elevated on a windy bridge above a giant swamp just high enough that you know that there would be no survivors if some idiot caused you to careen over the side.

          It ran for THOUSANDS and THOUSANDS of miles.

          With itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny balsawood guardrails.

          And alligators underneath.

          I KNOW this is true because I’ve watched Swamp People.

          It’s two lanes wide and I needed to be in the right lane of what felt like it was being on the Jungle Cruise at Disney World except there was no humorous Guide to shoot the ‘gators and hippos as they charged the boat.

          When we finally hit dry land I thought, Phew! That’s over with!

          Nope.

          Another 14-mile Destruction Zone that had me feeling as if I was driving on the streets of Monte Carlo in the Grand Prix.

          Except their course is much wider and has easier turns than the road we were on.

          All of this in a 40’ motorhome dragging a 15’ trailer behind it.

Driving a vehicle this size in windy conditions, is like carrying a piece of plywood out to your car at Home Depot.

          In a hurricane.

          With only you holding on to the plywood.

          The term White Knuckle Driving was invented for situations like this. When it was over, I looked down at my hands and found out that there were, in fact, no knuckles left on my fingers.

           They were permanently imbedded in the steering wheel.

———————————————————–

The second one came a few weeks later, after we had been in Texas a while. We needed to travel to Durango, Colorado to drop off the trailer that contained my Library and a few other essentials that were deemed so when Paula had sold her home in New Jersey, and we officially moved into the motorhome. Colorado has a Relative Humidity of about 1% while Texas sports one of about 1000%….. so, the Library et al, were going to a place of Dryness…..

It is from the end of October 2020 and is entitled:

Westward Ho!

You know that it is going to be bad when even the GPS unit warns you there will be High Gusty Winds.

          I knew it was windy!

          I was driving!

          How did my GPS know it was windy?

          Did it sense my erratic driving style?

Could it tell by the many Lane Departure warnings she was giving me?

          At that point, I wondered if she had a DWI Warning built into her too! ( No worries there, I do not really drink except for an occasional Strawberry Wine Cooler maybe once a month.)

          Then I passed a sign that read, “High Wind Area”

          OK, now it made sense. Someone had programmed it in. We were traveling on Interstate Route 10 through southwestern Texas headed for New Mexico and eventually Colorado. This area of Texas is about as broad and expansive as any Texan could brag about. To complicate things, that Weather Anomaly that kept us from departing on schedule reared its ugly head once more, as if bidding us a evil, final, farewell.

           But we had Bluebird Skies and Bright Sunshiny Vistas!

          And Wind.

          Lots and lots of Wind.

          So not only were we in a High Gusty Winds Warning area, but we were still in the clutches of a departing Low Pressure System, which as it leaves, gets filled with an incoming High Pressure System that packs a Pressure Gradient that will knock your socks off! (in our case I guess you could say “tires off”). And unfortunately, it hung around for a while because Hurricane Zulu, Zorba, or Zumba (Can’t remember and don’t care) was still hanging in Louisiana and environs and wouldn’t let “our” system pass through!

          This made the previous drive through the Louisiana Bayou seem like just another Sunday ride on a Bike Path. (except there are no ‘gators in the Texas Desert, just a rattler or two). Remember how that previous drive went on for thousand and thousands of miles? Well, this one went on for millions and millions of miles!

          All day long, constant, no let up, save when we pulled into a rest area for a break.  At that point we could still feel the wind rocking us back and forth like we were on the boat with Jesus and the Apostles when the storm came up.

          Everyone knows the feeling of the Passing Truck on the highway.

          As the truck approaches and  pushes that big wall of air in front of it, you can feel it coming and you need to counteract that push by steering into it. The problem is that you need to stop that countermeasure the precise moment that the Wall passes you because if you do not, you will oversteer and only cause more problems.

          All of those issues are compounded by our size.

          I’m used to that by now.

          I watch my rearview mirror for the overcoming Big Rig and as it comes alongside, I steer into it until I feel the effect lessen and then I pull back to center and then steer the other way because now, as it passes, it wants to suck us in behind it.

          Got it!

          Been there. It is now all part of the Driving Experience.

Except when in the aforementioned High Gusty Winds Warning Area.

          Now it gets dicey.

          All of my carefully calculated, tried and true, driving techniques go out the window (literally and figuratively) when every maneuver that I make gets buffeted back and forth always in the wrong direction.

          I considered taking a Xanax but decided that it would not look good on the Police Report if they did a blood test. Poor Paula was as nervous as I was but made heroic efforts not to show it. You know how it is riding Shotgun, all of the drama and none of the control (slamming your foot to the floor in an effort to grind to a halt using your invisible imaginary brake on your side of the vehicle!)

          Miss GPS and Navigator Paula found an alternative way to go that not only promised to get us off of blustery Interstate 10, but it looked like it was even shorter! Off we go onto Route 285 North towards Pecos. I felt like I was in a Western Movie just hearing the word Pecos!         All was good until another Destruction Zone.

          They were widening the road (good) but in their efforts to do so they forgot to keep even the semblance of a shoulder on the right-hand side (bad). The road is only two lanes, one each way, so there was no riding in the left lane. The big issue with the No Shoulder scenario was that IMMEDIATELY after the white stripe on the right side there was NOTHING! Except a downward slope of freshly graded, sandy-type soil that would have flipped us over if I even thought about wandering over the line. It was so close to the edge I wondered how they even painted it onto the road. We made it into Carlsbad, New Mexico which is in the next time zone so theoretically we bought ourselves an extra hour to do with what we pleased.

          Sleep?

          How about Coma.

          Except we were so used to the constant motion of being shellacked all day long that when we finally stopped for the night and pulled into Walmart of Carlsbad, we felt like we had just gotten off an all-day rollercoaster ride.

          It took a while to fall asleep.

———————————————————————–

And lastly for today is a short one about the ungainly shape of a Class A Motorhome and is from the same trip up to Durango. At this point we were traversing New Mexico and going through Roswell, the site of the infamous UFO sightings from the ’50’s. It is entitled:

Bugs or UFO’s?

Karen, one of your fellow readers, asked in the Comment Section if the spots on the windshield were bugs or UFO’s.

I’d love to report that they were UFO’s because that is a much more exciting story! But, alas, they are just BUGS.

It goes like this, a motorhome is about as aerodynamic as a shoebox. No, let me take that back. A shoebox is more aerodynamic because it does not have all sorts of appendages sticking out of it. The assortment of antenna, folded up awnings, TV satellite domes, and air conditioning units makes this thing like its dragging an anchor. But the number one reason for it’s ungainly shape is the FRONT.

It’s as flat as the proverbial pancake.

Which makes your chances (if you are bug) less than zero of surviving a meeting with it. In a car we’ve all witnessed the “Close Encounter” as a very fortunate bug gets swept up and over the car when it gets caught in the aero airstream instead of a “meeting of the windshield” event.

This NEVER happens with the motorhome. If you are a bug ANYWHERE in front of me, I will find you and SPLAT!!! I now have to clean you off the glass.

And soon.

Because what’s the fun of driving around seeing the country if your giant-vista windshield is covered with the “Remains of the Bugs” (to borrow a title from a like-sounding book.) So kids, keep those cards and letters coming and I’ll try to answer them when I’m not driving!

——————————————–

That’s it for today, as usual I thank you for indulging me and reading these accounts of our travels. If you’ve read them before, an extra Thanks for re-reading and I hope that you have re-enjoyed them!

Well, it’s been a while since you’ve all last heard from us!

                   A respite of sorts, to be sure, but short lived at that!

                   Now it’s back to the keyboard……

In about a week we will be high-tailing it back East for this, our Third Eastern Foray and Escape from the Heat of Texas.

                   Lot’s needs to be done on the motorhome, the most important is the oil change on the diesel motor. Luckily this only needs to be done every 20,000 miles.

                   Yea, that’s a lot longer than your car, but then this baby holds almost four gallons of oil, not four quarts! This reservoir (of sorts) allows for a longer changing cycle. It also allows for a much larger Service Invoice upon completion. I could do some of this myself but there are all sorts of filters, water separators, and other stuff that we feel much more comfortable with a professional poking around down there. They have experienced eyes and can spot an issue way before I ever could!

                    Besides the oil change, we need to have a general emptying out of everything stored below, evaluate its current need/value and the re-assemble it all back where we can find it again. Plus the roof needs cleaning and inspecting and the tires need a close examination, just to name a few items.

                   For those of you that were on the Cruise with us, you will remember the lamentations of our Reupholstery Debacle. The front seats and the dinette seats were taken out before we left and brought to be reupholstered while we were gone. Hopefully to be ready when we came back (four months later!)

                             Hah!

                             Well, that did not happen! We arrived back home to the job just beginning to be done! The story is long and tedious so let’s just say that we finally got them re-installed just a few days ago, just in time to get to the Dump Station and empty the by-now filled Dirty Water Tanks!

                             For the newer folks that started following the blog for the cruise, I am going to start to re-post some of the older posts that are from back in the day. I am being choosy and only selecting ones that are somewhat entertaining, but then, I should let you be the judge of that! It will be like a Greatest Hits compilation, and I will make note of each one’s original post date so there is no confusion! This will help fill in the gap between now and whenever we do something that is actually post worthy!

                             We can’t believe that it will be three years on July 4^th that we have the motorhome! Time (and miles) fly when you’re having fun, and we certainly are!

                             Stay tuned for those “oldies, but goodies” and keep watching the road in front of your house because we do have your address, and you never know when we’ll pop by!