Wonderful Wisconsin

We’ve spent the past two weeks in Wisconsin.  From dry, warm breezes through beautiful vistas of wind driven waves crashing on  limestone bluffs to more than nine inches of rain in two days… we’ve had a good taste of The Badger State.  We began in Chippewa Falls, only an hour from the Twin Cities.  It was a nice third visit and talk at the Public Library there.  A walk down to the river, seeing the high water surging through the dam was a nice way to relax after the drive.  The next morning we headed a bit south and east to Augusta, in the heart of Amish country.  We stayed at Coon Fork County Park, a beautiful campground on a lake.  No luck fishing, but a nice area to walk around (mind the mosquitoes).

A couple days and we were heading further east to a campground in Fremont… Jellystone Park, complete with Yogi and Ranger Smith.  Even Fred and Wilma Flintstone were there, though we missed seeing them.  Took a moment to check out their car, though.  I spoke four times in the three days we were in Fremont; first was New London, twice in Waupaca and finally in Appleton.  I’ve learned much more about the Home Front in Wisconsin during WW2 than I could possible share… people who remember picking milkweed pods, a lady whose father worked at the Four Wheel Drive company (they now make fire engines) spoke of hearing the trucks running on the test track all night right behind her house.  Another lady told of losing her underwear in a store because rationing had eliminated elastic waistbands… her tie came undone!

I’m glad we had the foresight to schedule a break to visit Door County with no talks.  We’ve heard so much about it and experiencing it was even better.  The magnificent views of Green Bay (not the Packers, mind you) coupled with quaint shops, wineries, produce stops, coffee shops, fish boil dinners, the awesome Harvest moon, sunrises and sunsets and a wonderful bike ride through Peninsula State Park were amazing.  The four days went by way too fast and the time came to head south again into the central part of the state.

Our current lodging is at the Sky High Campground outside Portage.  Glad to be on high ground with all the torrential rains the past few days.  We visited Baraboo and the Circus World Museum along with a sister and brother in law who met us, the day the rain began.  Now we hear the river there will crest nearly six feet above flood stage in a few days!  We’ll be heading further south, around the Windy City of Chicago and on to the eastern shore of Lake Michigan shortly.  One more talk this Saturday in Wyocena and then the drive to Stevensville, Michigan.  We’ll be staying in the sand dunes along the southeast corner of the lake before heading up near Grand Rapids for a few days…. but that will be in the next edition.

After nearly a year and a half… we’ve decided we like this “tiny home” living thing and hope you do, too (at least the part we share).  Until we see you “down the road”, keep in touch.  We’ll try to post a bit more often on Facebook and will write these longer notes when there’s time.

Muddy Waters

It’s time to dust off the “blog files” and begin a new series of them… particularly since Diane and I are, again, on the road (not to be confused with On the Road Again; sorry Willie).  Our definition of “on the road” does not include time spent within easy driving distance of our little imp… Phoebe.  Having spent a majority of time since returning to the Midwest from Florida in May near her, we’re now at Coon Lake County Park, outside the thriving megalopolis of Augusta, Wisconsin.  I’d tell you about the wonderful, large Veteran’s Park in Augusta (right next to, strangely enough, the local bakery)… but that would be getting ahead of the story.

First to relate is our leaving the Land of 10,001 Lakes.  It has rained so much this summer, I’m sure there is at least one more… so I’ll not try too hard to count, but just chalk up the one additional.  It was raining when we left (surprise) and the best description of our departure from good friends’ house (thanks Barb and Dave) is a piece of advice.  Never try to pull or push a camper when you can’t stand up in the mud.  Had it not been for Dave’s tractor (he’s really such a Deere), we’d still be at their place, downhill from the horse barn instead of comfortably up the hill, alongside the road.

We’re in Wisconsin because, unlike last year’s pleasure drive of 15 states in eight weeks (far too long and fast, but we certainly learned how to set up and take down the trailer), this year is a more measured five states in the same time period.  I’ll be speaking 20 times in Wisconsin, Michigan and Ohio before heading back through Indiana and Illinois; enjoying some scenery, visiting Florida friends and seeing fun things (like the oldest concrete street in the US).  It is a grand experiment to see if I can actually travel, talk and sell books at the same time.  I know you know the talking is not the hard part… ‘nough said.  We‘ll be blogging from Door County, the Lake Michigan Sand Dunes, and Cuyahoga National Park (look that one up) along with many other interesting points.

Right now Diane is looking through countless information magazines we picked up at the Wisconsin rest area yesterday.  At this point I’m going to guess those slimmer jeans I bought are going to stay in the closet for a while.  What with cheese factories and Farmers Markets on almost every street corner here… oh well, when in Rome…

Another 'season' in Florida...

We are on our way, slowly, back north as May warms up and the rains approach SW Florida.  Our months in Naples were both fun and productive; meeting new friends, a bit of fishing, entertaining, days at the beach, working hard on a new novel… did I mention a bit of fishing?  In Minnesota there are somewhat over a dozen or so game fish that people pursue for eating… in the Gulf there are eleven varieties of Snapper alone.  More than 140 different fish tempt a Midwestern fisherman nearly to the breaking point.  Diane mentioned eating ten new varieties of fish this season… and they’re healthy, too. 

Enough about fishing (not that I’m completely consumed by the topic)… The past few weeks have been a combination of saying goodbye to other snowbirds, packing for our own migration and enjoying the warm Gulf waters… think biggest bath tub EVER.  Enjoying sunsets that are never duplicates and watching Black Skimmers flying an inch above the waves looking for dinner make for a delightful evening.  As is said, “All good things must come to an end”… why is that?  I prefer to go from one good thing to another, and the greatest is endless.

Our plans are to stay in Iowa and Minnesota most of the summer; I have editing and more writing to do on Five For Freedom, which I hope will release in November.   We look forward to spending time with family and more friends, reacquainting ourselves with Minnesota’s beauty and taking a trip in the fall.  Putting together a book signing and speaking jaunt through Wisconsin, Michigan and Ohio will mean more adventures along the lines of last fall (I wonder if there are bears in Ohio).

I’ll be blogging more regularly as we hit the road again.  Looking forward to seeing all of you that we can…   

Home

Having spent a bit over eight weeks on the roads of the western United States in our “Whealhouse”, Diane and I returned to southern Minnesota a few days ago.  We drove just over 7,500 miles in that time, met many wonderful people, no outright curmudgeons, sampled local foods (both good and bad) and viewed countless vistas of our wonderful country.  The question must be asked, naturally in my native tongue (which is well known for dangling participles everywhere)… “So what did you learn then?”

First.  We live in a land of amazing landscapes, full of diversity (including the people) that all of us should visit.  Past leaders have set aside vast areas for our enjoyment; not the way we enjoy a movie by leaving behind our empty “mega jumbo” popcorn buckets and not quite finished artificially sweetened drinks (which create a substance akin to “The Blob” that I call cinemuck).  We ought to enjoy the outdoor parks we pay for quietly and with the admiration they deserve.  Deserts, mountains, rivers, enormous valleys down to the miniscule flowerlike formations of Carlsbad Caverns; they all deserve our protection along with the “ooohs and aaahs” of our observation.

Second.  We met varied and wonderful inhabitants; aardvarks, birds, coyotes, pronghorns, moose (or meese if you see more than one), and yes, even the bear that wanted the leftovers of our dinner as a midnight snack.  Oh, we met a few people, too; most of whom (?) were simply marvelous to chat with.  I’m not writing to vent along any particular political lines, except to mention that most discussions involving the subject showed an overall “tired of all of it” theme.  Maybe this is the legacy of democracy.

Third.  Change is all around us.  Weather patterns are changing (think of western drought and desert flash floods), landscapes are changing (Mount St Helens comes to mind), values are changing (pot became legal in Oregon while we were there – ‘nough said), people are changing… I don’t think we can expect “the good old days” to mean much any longer.

Fourth (and Final).  Don’t ever, ever, never take shortcuts using a stinky slinky.  If you doubt the sincerity of this, just watch “RV” with Robin Williams from a few years ago.

This blog isn’t finished with our first road trip… we’ll be having numerous adventures from today on.  From niece’s baby showers and granddaughter’s first birthdays to winter in a warm wonderland…. Stay in touch.

Opposites do Attract

This excursion has sometimes been about opposites attracting; no, I don’t just mean the two of us!  When we were at Lone Pine in the Owens Valley of California, we happened to be camped a few miles from Mt Whitney, highest elevation in the 48 contiguous states.  The lowest point in the country is only a bit more than an hour’s drive to the east in Death Valley.  Many times we’ve been in dry, high desert only to discover lush green landscapes over the next ridge.  The past several days have, again, found us in a land of contrast.  Separated by a mere 35 miles, a state line, and time zones are two completely different National Parks. 

We camped at Guadalupe Mountains NP, site of the highest point in Texas.  It’s a dry landscape that happened to turn green while we camped because of heavy rains a few days before our arrival.  We hiked the trail up to Guadalupe peak along with scores of other day trippers from El Paso, Las Cruces and places in the southwest.  It’s a six to eight hour roundtrip climbing to the 8,700 foot top and back, totaling 8.4 miles of “moderate” hiking.  Pleased to report we, who are not in the least climbers of this caliber, made it to within 700 feet (elevation) of the top.  We calculated the time necessary for us to finish and get back to camp and found we’d be to our “tiny home” after dark…. not good.  For us, a hike of 6.4 miles climbing more than 2,500 feet of elevation and returning alive, with all joints and such in working condition is a victory; not to mention a challenge to return one day and conquer the peak!!!

Now the contrast.  We visited Carlsbad Caverns NP, a half-hour drive crossing the New Mexico border and the Mountain Time Zone.  Unpretentious in appearance, the visitor center beckons from atop a ridge of 300 or so feet in height.  We showed our Access Pass (one of several easily available for free admission to NP’s) and reserved space on two tours for the day.  The first was called the King’s Palace and takes you to caverns different from those in the general Big Room, which we also enjoyed seeing between our tours.  We were told to meet our guide in an area at the bottom of the elevator… 750 feet down, more than 400 feet below the floor of the desert we had just driven over to get here.  Thankfully they are fast; I have to admit to more than a touch of claustrophobia.  We stopped at the bottom seconds before the scream escaped.  The door opened to a darkened, cool lobby with concessions and seating spread around.  The tour was a good one with our Ranger, Josh, joking and educating us on a myriad of facts surrounding the geology and time involved to create the amazing things our eyes beheld… like Carl Sagan and his “billions and billions”.  I was just glad they were big spaces!

The second tour was called the Left Hand Tunnel; innocent enough name.  Lee, our Ranger guide for this one, met us back up in the visitor center (another fast ride up, thankfully) and really “made my day” by handing me a lantern with a single stub of a candle in it.  His and Diane’s were both loaded with a full, 6 inches of wax and wick.  Mentioning this, Lee chuckled and said “It’s fine, that one will last at least three hours.”  The walk was to last half as long.  Diane and I were surprised and a bit nervous to be the only two on this tour; which could prove an advantage.  There would only be two witnesses to my hyperventilating, screaming and clawing to get out of the dark.  Seeing the cave by light of a single candle brings you back to what the first visitors experienced with kerosene lanterns; I like that.  Truthfully, I recommend everyone take this tour; you get into a cavern rarely traveled and have many up close and personal contacts with the unbelievable features of Carlsbad.

Before leaving the Park, we experienced the “Bat Flight”.  Even without Michael Keaton, Christian Bale or even Adam West, this is not to be missed.  The sun was setting, shadows were just covering the Natural Entrance to the cave and a Ranger was speaking about bats (did I mention my phobia about winged mice).  As if on que first one, then another few, then a rush of bats… hundreds and thousands of them, came out in a swirl (counter clockwise to be precise, no one knows why) and continued into the gloaming sky for more than an hour.  Watching them flying, evading the attacks of an opportunistic Red Tailed Hawk, was a thrill.  At least that’s what I’ll credit with the chill bumps up and down my spine.  The perfect ending to a great visit to just one of the 59 National Parks we are blessed with.

Now we are approaching the middle of Texas; limitless horizons, no trees and plenty of room for this guy to stretch his arms wide and let go a heartfelt “Yippee”… I’ll let the locals finish with the “Kiii Yaay”.

Who says Arizona deserts are dry?

What might the odds be of traveling 4,500 miles through the western United States before finding a “real thunderstorm”?  Diane and I have now been through the Dakotas, Montana, Idaho, Washington, usually wet Oregon, California, and were finally poured on by Mother Nature in the Sonora Desert outside Tucson, Arizona.  In a trailer, heavy rains and hail sound like being inside a popcorn popper, only louder (though that’s by conjecture).  Oh, and we experienced another hailstorm (in the sunshine) up in the amazing rock formations of Chiricahua National Monument, near tiny Willcox, AZ.  By the way, did you know Wyatt Earp’s brother, Warren, was killed in Willcox following the shootout at the OK Corral in Tombstone?  Amazing what nuggets of history are out lying around, waiting to be rediscovered.

Yesterday was a day of exploring after a long 440 mile trek from San Diego (we have no plans of duplicating that drive, unless we have to cross Nebraska).  We visited Saguaro National Park in the early morning, seeing a coyote, deer, and numerous birds enjoying the fresh water coursing down the hills.  It’s easier to understand flash floods after a rainy night like we had.  In the afternoon we drove to Willcox and toured Chiricahua and its unbelievable geology.  Pictures can never capture the immensity and balance of these columns and spires.  Jaw dropping views are around every corner; Diane commented it was like hitting the fall colors from New Hampshire all the way home to Minnesota a couple of years ago.  Every turn brought up the camera with another “That’s worth a picture”.  I’m just happy we have digital photography now; Kodak processing would have made a killing on us!

We are now at that point in a trip when the maps are showing us closer to home, rather than further.  We’ve still got a couple of thousand miles to go, as we meander through New Mexico, Texas and points north.  Our original estimate of 5,000 miles will be off by quite a bit; none of the extra ones wasted.  The country we’ve seen and the folks we’ve met will give us memories to cherish for time to come.

The next few days will reveal whether I can watch “The Martian” while in Roswell, New Mexico (I think that will be a blast, others say I need to get off the road awhile).

San Diego "The Land of Ahhh's"

Ahhhh, San Diego.  Despite controversy surrounding the meaning of its name (see “Anchorman”), the city is still a beautiful one.  Diane and I arrived here yesterday; staying at the Santa Fe RV Campground which is sandwiched between I-5 and the Amtrak commuter line running north.  Though not entirely akin to the sound of a burbling stream or the waves on a beach, the constant drone of traffic does become somewhat melodic.  We jumped right in the pool and caught an hour of Southern California sunshine after getting “The Whealhouse” set up; then headed to visit friends, Charles and Donna, for the evening after swinging by our old house – they must have watered it well, it sure grew in the past 25 years.

Today we continued our sojourn of sorts; driving to an even earlier habitat location in Ocean Beach…. “OB” to those who’ve lived there.  It’s just not the same without the original “Spaceman of OB” walking on Newport Avenue and hipsters replacing so many hippies we remember.  I suppose time moves on.  We walked out the OB pier and chatted with fishermen not having much luck.  Sand is being scooped and pushed into giant berms along the beach in preparation for El Nino and winter storms.  We managed to split a Hodad’s double bacon cheeseburger with fries and a chocolate malt…. they used to go down so much easier.  Five hours later and I’m still not hungry (a far cry from a Chinese buffet).  Don’t misunderstand; Hodad’s is still a “top ten” place to grab food in San Diego.  The line was twenty or thirty appetites long minutes before the door opened.  We sat at the bar looking out toward “The Black”; a still in operation head shop dating to the late 60’s.

Following lunch we drove through Mission Beach and headed to PB… ok, Pacific Beach to you novices.  We strolled to the end of the Crystal Pier and had a pic taken of us in front of the Capri by the Sea, our first night’s honeymoon stay some 36 years ago.  Then we headed up the hill to Kate Sessions Park, the location of our wedding vows; though today the weather was far from the sun, clouds and sail boats on Mission Bay for a background.  A group of “twenty somethings” found it fun to take our picture where we were married before any of them were born.  One thing I noticed was how many people here have dogs; there seems to be pooches everywhere.  Tons of folks were out today, enjoying a much cooler and cloudy day than has been the norm this summer and fall.  The drought out here is noticeable and a sprinkle today was welcome.  Tonight… more visiting of family and swinging by familiar sites from long ago. 

We’ve driven some 4,000 miles to get to this point; when we leave San Diego we’ll be heading in a generally homeward direction (east and north).  We still have many places to go and some friends to visit along the way.  I’m sure, as well, that we’ll be meeting many new faces around campfires and on hiking trails before the Midwest looms in the windshield.  One favor please; keep autumn around long enough for us to get back.