We unofficially complete the trip east! (MD)

Pati (Marcia’s younger sister) and Dan J have a very nice home in Salisbury MD with lots of space for our trailer and truck. This is a welcome respite for us, a chance to do laundry, catch up on the blog, get the oil changed on the truck, review mail (forwarded by Ruthe – thank you!), do minor trailer repairs, sleep in a real bed, and visit. On Wednesday October 3^rd, we drive the remaining one hour to join our WBCCI caravan, forming up at Rehoboth Beach DE, for the 40-day drive down the coast.

Over the last 25 days, we have driven 4308 miles at 14.9 MPG overall. Diesel has rarely been below $3/gallon, more typically we pay $3.09-$3.15. The Dodge has performed well, the only problem not its fault—the driver’s mirror was broken by someone in St Louis. The Airstream mechanics have performed well, but a piece of trim fell off and two wire racks in the pantry cupboard broke loose. We also have a leak around the skylight that I haven’t been able to locate. On the human side, I had to be treated for diverticulitis and then a possible allergic reaction to an antibiotic that manifested itself as a rash, and Marcia got a sympathy rash. Or perhaps the Laundromat in Independence didn’t get out all the soap. But our rashes are going away.

On the attitude side, we have done very well in our 25 foot trailer but we both look forward to the caravan, when we won’t have to find campgrounds, choose restaurants, pick sights to see, figure out maps, get un-lost, etc.

September has been an excellent traveling month. We’ve had rain only briefly and maybe only twice. Temperatures have been moderate, humidity sometimes a nuisance but much milder than it would have been in the summer.

30th St Station, Philly...(PA)

This towering wall sculpture in the 30th Street Station was actually done in the late 1800s and moved to its current site in the terminal building. It depicts progress in transportation. Although not likely visible in the photo, the far right shows the artist's expectation of air travel.

To Philadelphia, and a visit with Brian… (PA, MD)

The Philadelphians seems to accept their city being called “Philly” which I shall now do because Philadelphia is long and I keep trying to spell it Philladelphia.

We left Country Acres on Saturday and drove to Malvern, a nice community outside Philly. There we left our trailer with Dan J’s sister Becky who had graciously offered her driveway as storage while we went into Philly. That accomplished we caught the commuter train to Philly’s 30^th Street Station and were soon greeted by Brian J; Brian is the son of Marcia's younger sister Pati and her husband Dan.

Brian is a sophomore architecture student at Philly’s Drexel University. He has grown considerably since we last saw him, and like all members of his family, thinks nothing of charging off on a multi-mile walk for lunch, in this case with his Aunt Marcia and Uncle (by marriage) Cam. After some distance and entry to kind of a bohemian area of Philly, Marcia commented that she hoped this was a sit-down restaurant; Brian hesitated briefly, turned us around, and started heading in yet another direction. The restaurant he chose, the Continental, worked great and after Brian and I polished off our bacon cheese omelets and Marcia finished her frittata and beer, we were off again with Brian leading for a view across the Delaware River to neighboring New Jersey.

After a brief subway ride we were again in the area of Drexel, so Brian walked us over for a tour of his dorm, which on the outside looks like a 1940s department store or office building but on the inside houses countless students, including from colleges other than Drexel, and perhaps some private apartment renters as well (I wasn’t sure about this point). Marcia and I then took our leave of Brian, walked under a Drexel University trestle of some sort to the 30^th Street Station, trained to Malvern and reclaimed our trailer, thanked Becky’s family with some Shoe-Fly Pie from Lancaster, and drove several hours to Salisbury MD, and the home of Pati and Dan.

Sign in Malvern, outside Philadelphia (PA)

Prudential
Fox and Roach
Realtors

Learning about the Amish… (PA)

To learn more about the Amish, we went to Lancaster’s Amish Farm and House, which these days is sandwiched between a strip mall and a large Target. The guide explained that the Amish and the Mennonites entered this country from Switzerland and Germany, and when questioned by Immigration declared themselves “Deutsch” and thus became the Pennsylvania Dutch. They are plain people and hard workers, but not without contradiction: she claims most of them have cellphones, they just don’t use them in the house.

Later we drove through the country behind the towns and found things more the way we expected: well-planted fields, whitewashed farm houses with simple clothing hanging out to dry (long clothes lines – a family typically has eight kids), and buggies trotting back and forth, to and from who knows where. We saw a man in typical Amish garb mowing a field with a device pulled by two horses. But then I also saw an Amish man using an electric weed eater. Often times we would overtake what looked like a teenager on a pedal scooter, only to find an older man with a long beard; these scooters are metal and look manufactured, but the design is unusual: they have front and rear wheels about BMX diameter, with a place to put a foot in the center. I’m not clear on why they don’t accept bicycles, but do accept mechanical mowers pulled by horses.  The pungent odor of the fields confirms the Amish stick pretty much to organic fertilizers.

Contrary to what might be expected, the Amish population is growing and maintaining its values, with a compromise here and there. Most notably, most accept and welcome modern medicine when needed.

Pennsylvania Dutch territory…Lancaster County (PA)

Lancaster County is most everything you might hope, but with a layer of over-commercialization. I’m not clear on how much of this is non-Amish trading on people’s interest in the Amish culture, or Amish trading on Amish. Buggies pulled by trotting horses pass through town every few minutes usually driven by a woman, or perhaps a mother with her children. Other buggies stand by offering rides for a fee (“Abe’s Buggy Rides”).

The main streets in villages like Bird-in-Hand are crowded with female tourists wandering through countless quilting-oriented shops, accompanied by polite but bored husbands. Marcia and I usually beat this by splitting and agreeing to meet at a particular time, which allows me to get bored on my own and Marcia doesn’t have to endure my pithy impatient observations.

Bird-in-Hand, supposedly named for an early tavern with a sign showing a bird-in-hand (few could read then), seems to be the center of all this. The street is lined with small shops, but everything is dominated by Kitchen Kettle Village, which takes up at least a half-block including parking space for cars, tour buses and RVs. It even has an olde fudge shoppe (“Our Fudge Doesn’t Melt”).

For lunch we wished to try some Amish food. After wandering around the Bird-in-Hand we settled on a large restaurant our campground receptionist recommends. Disappointingly, there were only two items on the menu designated as typically Amish, one was Macaroni and Cheese (who knew?) which I ordered: it was OK) and I don’t remember the other. Marcia ordered a sandwich of some sort. The Amish experience devolved into watching an Amish employee bus dishes back and forth faster than you can imagine, and she looked at least 90. (Later we learned Kitchen Kettle owns the restaurant, our campground, probably the 90-year-old lady, and who knows what else. This strengthened Marcia’s belief that all businesses everywhere are owned by only twelve large corporations.)

FLWright's water falls to Lancaster County... (PA)

We left Washington PA and towed the trailer to the classiest vacation home we are ever likely to see—Frank Lloyd Wright’s famous Falling Water ($16 adult) in the forests of south-western Pennsylvania.

Wright designed more for his own passions than the wishes of the client, in this case a wealthy department store magnate wanting a weekend getaway.  Wright also seems not to have cared about budgets so good thing the Kaufmanns were wealthy and patient.

Falling Water, built in 1937, cantilevers out from the hillside mimicking the waterfall that is the core of the rushing stream below. The house must have been great for entertaining as there are views from all rooms and the outdoor terraces may contain as much floor space as the house itself. The original furnishings are intact, much of it also designed by Wright.

No photos allowed on the tour. Marcia tried to take one outdoors on a terrace and was wrightfully scolded. The terraces are part of the tour.

After a nice lunch in the café we towed-on to Gordonville in Westchester County, PA, arriving close to nightfall. We had a very nice campsite nestled in the trees of Country Acres Campground ($28/day elec, water; others services more).

Wow! Hello, Pittsburgh! (PA)

Leaving the trailer at the KOA, we filled the tank ($3.19/gal) and ventured to Pittsburgh. Roads, at least in this part of PA, route strangely. Cars are bounced on then off freeways, and from one parkway to another and then back to the earlier one, to the point that you just try to follow signs and ignore the illogical directions of short-term travel.

Other than driving/navigating, the trip was nice but not spectacular, but maybe we are becoming jaded. Wooded areas, rolling hills and small towns—then suddenly a long tunnel. As we emerged—wow!—we found ourselves on a bridge with spectacular views of Pittsburgh, sports stadiums, rivers, and more bridges. Steel bridges, of course. It is so sudden all you can do is watch your fenders and go with the flow.  I can’t imagine stumbling into this while towing the trailer. (OK, cousin Scott; so your truck-trailer is larger and you do it every day.)

This is not the Pittsburgh of old. Gone, at least today, are the smoke and haze from steel mills and coal burning. It is a beautiful day.

Now downtown, we didn’t know what we wanted to do and there were no places to stop and figure things out. We were rescued by a sign to Point State Park, but on our first approach we were funneled to a long ramp and hurled across another bridge over yet another river, and deposited in the parking area for Heinz Field, where the Stealers play. No place to stop as everything was blocked for a special event. We drove a short way and there was PNC Park, home of the Pirates. We drove over (I think) our original bridge and back to the downtown and our luck turned, as we found a metered spot big enough for the truck. It was then a very short walk to the museum over the litter-strewn remains of a Fort Pitt bastion.

The Allegheny and Monongahela rivers merge at Point State Park to form the Ohio. (That explains the name of the now demolished Three Rivers Stadium.) Historically, the country that controls this point controls the Ohio Valley so at various times the French and British built forts and they, the Indians, and what would become the Americans, kicked sand at each other. What remain are the bastion, an interesting museum, a beautiful fountain, and a park that could be nice but was closed for renovation.

After an hour at Point State Park Marcia plotted a course to a randomly selected nice restaurant in the student area, after which we toured the impressive Carnegie museums of Art and Natural History ($10 adult $7 senior, covering both museums) until closing. As unfortunately is becoming our pattern of late, it was dark when we reached out camp in Washington PA and rest for the exhausted campers.

The Trifecta – three states in an hour… (OH, WV, PA)

Our drive east on I-70 is beautiful. We are now far enough north and far enough east and far enough through September to begin to see a change in the trees. Bright yellow and orange leaves are beginning to fall, and girdles of red-leafed vines cover the trunks of the taller trees. The interstate is devoid of billboards, a welcome relief from the double-sized ones we’ve seen so often, but as if to get around a law, there are large billboards facing the freeway from a few hundred yards inside otherwise beautiful farmland.

We encountered our first significant rainfall of the trip while taking a bypass freeway around Columbus. It drove the temperatures down from the high eighties to 79, but they popped back up after the shower ended.

It was getting late in the day as we crossed the Ohio River into West Virginia; a large, orange moon could barely penetrate the haze. Fifteen miles later we crossed into Pennsylvania and darkness, and found our campground (thanks to Marcia and the KOA operators, not the GPS), our second KOA ($28/night no discount elec & water, other hookups extra), set up and had a light dinner.

The Great State of Ohio... (OH)

We enjoyed Ohio and the small towns separated by vast areas of corn, barns with rounded roofs with sides half the time red but sometimes pale green or white. Little seems to have changed here, yet the homes look prosperous. Then suddenly you come across modern Ohio, with large Honda and KitchenAid plants; maybe they are what keeps things going, maybe ethanol, just don’t know.

Hello, mutha...(OH)

The alarm went off at 6:45 AM and fifteen minutes later I was at the Airstream service center because appointments are only for the day, with the day’s appointments on a first-come-first-served basis. I was number three. I alerted Marcia and at 7:15 our trailer was on its way. (Those who know Marcia will realize this was both a sacrifice and an accomplishment.) We went to the Hobo Café and celebrated with a hearty breakfast that, with snacks, served us also as lunch.

To pass the time, we drove to Wapakoneta where we discovered the Neil Armstrong Air & Space Museum ($6 seniors). This was a bit much and the place was a bit much – a hardened weathered concrete structure half underground with a dome above, as if on the moon, with the approach walkway bordered by runway lights casting a blue glow. This was one of several Neil Armstrong commemoratives we encountered in this end of Ohio. On our way out of Ohio, we drove past the John and Annie Glenn Historic Site – one can only imagine what happened there.

After a drive through the historic area of Wapakoneta and several other small villages, we entered the town of New Bremen (theater marquee: “Welcome Home Neil Armstrong”) to see the Bicycle Museum of America ($2 senior). This is a privately owned collection of bicycles from the earliest times to the present, demonstrating methods of personal locomotion I never knew made it to production. Well worth the drive if in the area.

On returning to Jackson Center we found our trailer’s birth mother was not happy with her condition. On two of the four wheels the bearings race had been spinning as the wheels turned, grinding the drum and scorching the bearings, if I understand it properly. Three levels of employees could not explain how this happens, although the worker-level guy said it used to be a problem with the older drums. We are three months off warranty and after a vigorous discussion (Their argument: I had not had the bearings checked at the required yearly interval; mine, when I went to the dealer to have them done, the dealer price was $200 and he said every 2-3 years is fine.) $750 and a few hours later we were on our way, with me paying for two new bearings sets and races, and new drums; the dealer covering the other problems on warranty. Three days later, in a campground rain, we noticed water dripping from a skylight.

Going to pot... (OH)

Larry, your large pot was an accidental stowaway – it seems to be enjoying the sights and doing its share of the work, and still asks about you. I’m sure it looks forward to a reunion in December.

Muslims go to Mecca, Salmon return upstream, and Airstream owners visit Jackson Center, OH (Pop: 850).

This (Jackson Center, OH; pop: 850) is where all Airstreams are made, and we took the factory tour (no pictures allowed).

A lot of hand labor and attention to quality, the guide explained, so I’m not sure who comes in at night and jams the locks and loosens trim pieces.

We are camping in the factory “terraport”, eight trailers parked like spokes on a wheel, with hook-ups fed from the center (free with work, $10 just to camp; full hookups, WiFi with work). We are here for some minor repairs (refasten a trim board that fell off, correct a dump connection that turns up rather than down - something you definitely don't want) and have the wheel bearings repacked. Others are here for very major stuff – things that just plain don’t work, water leaks, collision damage. At 7-7:30 AM they tow your trailer to the service center, and at 3:30 PM they return it to the terraport (of which there are three), work completed or not. Our neighbor expects it will take three of these cycles to do his work.

We arrived without an appointment so have to wait until Tuesday.

Not much to do during the day, except sit in the air conditioned waiting room (95 degrees outside), and catch up with the blog, knit, read, or drive the five-block-long town. We did it all.

The “Wally & Stella” photo is of Wally Byam’s gold anodized 1950s trailer used on his famous (at least in Airstream circles) 1959 Capetown-to-Cairo caravan (Wally, who founded Airstream and inspired caravaning, died in 1962). The trailer in the other photo, with the evil eyes, dates from about 1936. The final photo is taken from the terraport at sunset.

Indiana – boyhood home of Lincoln and Letterman… (IN)

Neither of us could get too excited about Indiana, not just because diesel has gone from $2.89 in Missouri to $3.09 in Illinois to $3.18 here. To give it a fair chance, we decided to camp at the Indianapolis fairgrounds and go downtown, this being Saturday and we being highly social.

But it turned out the fairgrounds were hosting a 4WD Jamboree, and the place was swarming with Jeeps with oversized tires, surrounded by admiring young-twenties swilling beer. I have nothing against this but it didn’t look like a good place to camp, so we drove on to the Indie KOA (our first - $36/retired vet, elec & water & WiFi, other hookups extra) 14 miles east of Indianapolis. The KOA was very nice with wide grassy areas and many trees, bordered by a cornfield. The restrooms were less nice, and the park (like all KOAs) contains family oriented facilities we don’t need—pool, game room, ping pong tables, etc. The campground host noticed our California plates; he hosts at Folsom Lake most summers, maybe 3 miles from our home.

Give me back my hour! (IN)

They took another hour from us today, as we crossed into Indiana. We are now three hours later than California (remember that if you call).

Losing an hour every few days is a harder adjustment than losing three hours in one day.

Camping at Jill's house... (IL)

We reached Jill and Brian’s house in Washington, near Peoria, about on time but then began an intricate dance to place the Airstream behind their house in such a way Brian could leave in the morning and the neighbor—they have a shared drive--could also get out. This, of course, was witnessed by many gaggling women and neighborhood kids, as Brian and his neighbor moved cars about and directed me as I backed the trailer.

I don’t know how long this lasted –at least a half hour, I think—until we became reasonably settled and the now overheated truck and driver could relax. In the process I put a fairly good coat of black rubber on Brian’s cement driveway, scraped plants, and dislodged an edge strip along the driveway.

It was good seeing Jill and Brian and Trevor and Colin, even though we had seen them at our house in June.

We all went to dinner at a local Mexican restaurant. Did you know chili relleno can be stuffed with ground beef? Well, in rural Illinois it can, unfortunately, proving once again that Mexican food declines at the square of the distance from San Diego.  [Later we learned this misguided practice is followed in many other states, particularly in the south-east.]

On Saturday, after a round of Brian’s large pancakes, we were off to watch Trevor’s soccer game (trailer in tow), meet Brian's visiting parents, and then we were on our way.

Did Jill ever find her purse? Dunno.

Whoops! We did it again... (IL)

Any Hamilton Elementary School graduate should know, or knew once, that Lincoln lived in Springfield, IL. Well, were we taken by surprise when signs appeared directing us to these historic sites, including his official museum and library. But we were on a deadline, having committed to be at Jill’s by 5 PM, and it was already 3:30 PM.

Marcia was driving at the moment and we decided we had to see something, so she turned off at what turned out to be a Lincoln commemorative garden and nature trail, of no interest on our schedule.

So, Abe, that’s why we failed to visit you. I’m sorry.

Yes, they are harvesting dry corn… (IL)

We crossed the Mississippi into Illinois and began a long beautiful drive through corn country, all on gently rolling slopes, broken by clusters of trees. The stalks are dry and harvesters are neatly cutting many rows simultaneously, while a thick yellow spray of corn blows from a tube to a truck running parallel. A sign at a roadside rest stop informs us that the ground beneath our feet contains active coal mining, a strange contrast to the farming scene above.

At the Roseville Safeway we see green ears of corn so the harvesting of dry corn is puzzling. Brian later explained that this is called field corn, intended only for animals. Inside the harvester the ears are battered against a turning roller to separate the corn, and the ears and stalks are shredded for mulch and spill out on the ground.

If you hit a transportation worker in IL, drag him to MO...

Missouri freeway signs:

Hit a Worker
$10,000 Fine
Lose your License

Illinois freeway signs:

Hit a Worker
$10,000 Fine
Jail for 10 Years

9/21/07 St Louis: Officially endorsed by the Murrays… (MO)

St Louis has importance well beyond its 350,000 population, and the town shows it.

There is poverty, of course, but also miles of elegant streets with beautifully maintained homes. Stadiums and convention centers are everywhere, all of recent construction, all with corporate sponsorships. We spotted a very nice looking campus for St Louis University, and the city also has a large Balboa Park type area with open space, museums, bicycle routes, and the zoo.

Many massive federal-style state and federal buildings, and the enormous 1894 Union Railway Station redeveloped into a Hyatt Regency using the original lobby, and in the old track area (no trains since 1978) a gazillion small shops and restaurants, mostly unfortunately of the food-court variety.

The St Louis Zoo is a treat, and is free (parking, however, is $10). We knew it had a world-class reputation, what we didn’t realize is that it is actually rather small. Very well landscaped and organized, animals excellently displayed, easily explored on foot in 4 hours, with lunch.
The St Louis Art Museum is also free but we didn’t get to it.

There was more to do in St Louis and we would happily come back, but not in the summer. In mid-September we experienced low 90s and mild humidity, cooling adequately at night.

We try concretes at Ted Drewes...(MO)

Ted Drewes, a St Louis favorite since 1931, serves frozen custards - we tried the mocha concretes. Once.

Look! A big McDonalds!! (MO)

The Gateway Arch is impressive. It commands a view in all directions although we chose not to take the time to go to the top. It is maybe a couple hundred unobstructed yards from the Mississippi, which still carries long barge trains of coal. Missouri and Illinois (or at least their Indians) compete from opposing sides with riverboat-style casinos.

The floating McDonalds seems to be gone.

Below the arch--actually underground--is a free museum emphasizing Lewis and Clark and western growth. The museum is good but it was a surprise to see the National Park Service using animatronics to portray historical characters. Marcia made some innocuous comment to William Clark, and she swears he winked back (I saw it, too). The Indian chief, of course, was rather solemn and told us the explorers were not to be trusted. Maybe so.

Move player back one square (MO)

Dinner last night was on “the hill”—the local designation for the Italian district. Nice family restaurant, in business for something like 30 years. On leaving we found our driver’s side mirror smashed, probably sideswiped by another truck with a mirror of equal height. No note. No way, even with tape, that the truck could be driven safely any significant distance.

So today I got up early and started working the phone explaining that we are in transit and by 9 AM the truck was in the body shop of Don Brown Dodge in St Louis. By 10:30 AM I was back in the campground with a new mirror and articulating arm - $440, just under our $500 deductible. Great service, Don Brown.

Move player back two squares... (MO)

At the ballgame I (Cam) began to get an ache in the abdomen on the lower left side (appendix is right side), and by morning it was worse and worsening. Through a hospital referral service, after giving our Park location (corner of Jefferson Blvd and MLK Jr) I secured a 1:30 PM appointment with a doctor who, as it turns out, is black and has built a healthy (?) client base from minorities. His staff is black, posters on the walls show only black athletes, and the TV in the waiting room (Marcia and I spent a lot of time there) was playing taped TV shows starring black performers.

After an exam and an explanation of our travel commitments, Dr Butler told Kaiser in California that I needed to be approved for an emergency CAT scan – in his words, “You don’t want to have to explain to the widow why you won’t approve a scan and he bleeds-out.” Those of us on blood thinners need to be concerned about internal bleeding from ulcers, and a hernia was also a possibility. Dr Butler also didn’t want me to get stuck in an emergency room for over 24 hours, so he called ahead to make arrangements.

Of course, the emergency room felt it had to do tests in addition to the CAT scan but by midnight we were back at our park with antibiotics and Vicodin to treat diverticulitis, which should not threaten our trip.

Thank you Dr Butler, Dr Fuller and St Mary’s Hospital. Hopefully also thank you Kaiser.

On Automated Handwashing… (KS, MO)

A Kansas rest stop had an automated hand-washing machine. You stick your hands in a bomb-proof crater in the wall, and this triggers a cycle of soap, water, and hot air.

I found the hot air started up before I could get my hands fully rinsed. A truck driver told me you just have to wait until the cycle starts again, which I did, but now I had more soap on my hands with the same amount of rinse time, and here comes the hot air. (Marcia reports she had no problem in her room, so draw conclusions as you may.)

Now Missouri, a very progressive state, also had an automated hand-washing device but it worked better. It soaped you and rinsed you at your level of demand, and then directed you to a separate hot air blower for drying. The blower, however, was the conventional type that really does nothing but burn energy as nobody has the patience to stand there pretending it is actually doing something. (Marcia says she has no problems with those hand dryers, so again, draw your own conclusions.)

Resting with the big boys... (KS)

With the big boys, at a KS rest stop.

Look what we foundry - on our way to St Louis (MO)

On the recommendation of our Lane Springs host, we went to Maramec Spring Park near St James, MO ($3/car). The natural springs bubble up at 96,000,000 gallons per day into a trout hatchery, and the water eventually tumbles out fairly dramatically to some lower ponds and a stream where people fish and, yes, catch trout. Also on the site are ruins of a mid-1800s steel foundry that fashioned implements for the settlers. None of the park looks industrial – all quite beautiful.

We left Maramec and continued on I-44 toward St Louis, often times paralleling Historic Route 66 and I-50, which goes from Sacramento to Ocean City, MD. Although I-44 is designated a scenic route by the Auto Club, most of the way was rather uninteresting – my only regret is we didn't take the time to check out a turnoff for the "Route 66 State Park".

We arrived at the St Louis RV Park about 5 PM. Not a great neighborhood but handy to things we would like to do. The park itself has full hookups (about $30/day with WiFi – no cable TV) but RVs are close together on what looks like a large worn out asphalt parking lot. An RV neighbor had two spare tickets for a ballgame and by 6:35 PM we were off to Busch Stadium to see the Cardinals lose to the Philadelphia 7 to 4  in 14 innings (we left after the 13th). Tickets were free, with dinner consisting of one shared small beer and two brats totaling $16.50.

Singing as we hike...Lake Springs Rec Area (MO)

The campground host bid us off for our morning hike mentioning that there are ticks, stinging nettles, bears, and mountain lions (we knew none of this on yesterday’s hike) so Marcia began to sing; we have never seen bear or mountain lion when Marcia sings. We did, however, see about a half-dozen box turtles along the uphill route, and with the host’s tree-finder book (and a ranger we encountered) identified elm, maple, cedar, and a large-leaf oak of some sort.

So, the Lane Springs Recreation Area was a success – reasonable temperatures, bugs not a problem, off our beaten bath, no crowds. The Host says the weather in August is awful.

Finding Waldo (MO)

Where is Cam (hint: he is wearing green)

Headline: Truman Beats Eisenhower! (MO)

This being Sunday, we rose late and spent the morning doing laundry (first of trip), doing crosswords (Marcia, of course), catching up on this blog (those post dates are rarely real), and trying to understand why I’m having such a hard time processing photos and loading them to the blog. No answer.

On a break, I talked with a guy in the middle of a 3-month trip with his 34’ 2003 Airstream. He has actually had three near-catastrophes: A hitch steel rod broke in two; the receiver retaining pin cleaved off; and the receiver weld points broke loose. All three incidents happened at relatively harmless times and were probably brought on by rough roads in Alaska, but he also had the most expensive and supposedly safest hitch out there. I shall double-up my safety checks. Harvey and John are right.

At noon we went to the Truman Presidential Museum & Library ($7 senior), a very smart looking building within walking distance of Truman’s home (we drove, Truman would walk). The Truman library looks nice, feels friendly, and was altogether a far better experience than Abilene’s equivalent for Eisenhower. The Eisenhower Center looked dated – architecture and style were very much of the 1950s, when it began, and the Meditation Center where the Eisenhowers are buried was creepy. The Truman center was dedicated in 1957 but it could as easily have been the 1980s or 1990s – perhaps it recently underwent major renovation? And the Trumans are buried simply and presumably deeply in a grassy courtyard.

Any regrets about Independence? Only that the weekend kept us from taking the factory tour at Moon Marbles.

Independence to St Louis - whoops, I mean the Ozarks - and Mark Twain National Forest (MO)

After a night of many trains, we left Independence for St Louis on I-70. The rather flat countryside soon became more tree-covered and we began seeing signs promoting the Ozarks, which we knew nothing about except that it was familiar, suggested camping and lakes and trees and land promotion. We could have blown right by it, but holding to our creed to take the path less traveled, we took the actually rather heavily traveled path south to the Ozarks.

Going south from I-70 on Hwy 63, we soon came to Jefferson City, Missouri’s state capitol. The capitol building is rather elegant, a shade darker version of the capitol in Sacramento or Washington. We tried to gather local information from the tourist bureau, but they chose to be closed today (Monday) while moving. We were referred to the State tourist bureau, but it too was closed for some reason, so we drove on toward Rolla, which the Auto Club map indicated offered camping.

The country along Hwy 63 was often dense apparently with hardwood trees interrupted by small villages and occasional vista overlooks. The road thinned to one lane each way, and I pulled out several times to allow faster vehicles to pass.

Rolla turned out to be larger than expected, home of UM Rolla, and also a geodesic map center. About 11 miles south we came to the Lane Spring Recreation Area in the Mark Twain National Forest, and found our campsite for the night: $7.50 Golden Eagle for a nice pull-through amongst the trees, with electricity.

After a half-glass of wine we trekked Blossom Rock trail, about two miles through overgrowth, rising from creek bed to bluffs and back again. Occasional views of the Little Pinney creek, but mostly a lot of growth. We did startle one animal of about beaver proportions, but it was in our sight too briefly for more positive identification; the campground host later said it was probably a ground hog. On return to our campsite we settled in to more wine and an avocado dip and a fine dinner of pasta made with chicken left from the Brookfield Hotel, followed by a game of cribbage (Cam won).

Hmmm...ribs (MO)

The Arabia Steamboat Museum fronts a public market square and outdoor concert venue, and on the recommendation of a museum guide we hunted down nearby Winslow’s for some KC ribs. Unfortunately it was more bar than rib joint, and smoking was allowed. As we circled back to our truck security was more evident, as the Market Place was readying for a ZZ Top concert. We exited the parking lot and drove past five identical Prevost motorhomes behind security barriers – presumably priority band members. Perhaps passing up an experience of a lifetime, we drove on to another recommended rib place, Fiorella’s Jack Stack Barbecue at the Freight House. Marcia had the 2-ribs, meaning pork and lamb ribs, and I had the small end port ribs, all very good. The restaurant is elegantly informal, one of several large restaurants in a converted warehouse.

Arabia? In Missouri?? (MO)

Lunch at Clinton’s, a soda fountain Truman worked at as a youth, then on to the Arabia Steamboat Museum ($11.50 senior), in Kansas City, MO. The Arabia was a Missouri River sidewheeler that hit a snag and went down in 1856 – one of hundreds that sank carrying stores for other river communities and the frontier west. In 1986 five amateur treasure hunters located the Arabia 45’under a cornfield, and at their own expense raised over 200 tons of very well preserved goods and ship fragments (boilers, stern and rudder, paddle wheel axle, etc.). They changed their minds about selling the recovered items and instead built this private museum to display what they had found, demonstrate their conservation efforts, and encourage others to “follow their dreams”. Well worth the visit.

They are still conserving items from the Arabia, and are now working on recovering the Mars. Yes, Arabia and Mars are both, surprisingly, part of Missouri.

Let's go visit Harry and Bess... (MO)

Our campground is an easy walk to the Park headquarters to hear about Truman, and then on to his house for a tour. Harry was poor but Bess came from money (I can think offhand of several political marriages like this: John Kerry, John McCain, Lyndon Johnson), and on their marriage they moved to Bess’ mom’s house, which when it was built in the 1800s was the finest home in Independence. His mother-in-law shared the home with them, and when she died (while he was President) the home became theirs, the first home he ever owned. Great tour, more for what it said about Truman than necessarily about the house itself, although it is nice. (Truman’s hometown was particularly interesting to us, as we both recently read and liked McCullough’s biography of Truman.)

Small town Independence - home to Harry and Bess...(MO)

We crossed the Missouri River from Kansas yesterday, and are now staying in Independence, Missouri, at the Campus RV Park ($25/night WBCCI discount, full hookups, weak WiFi). Friendly staff, clean restrooms and showers, but looks a little urban: aged ashphalt, dead weedy grass between sites, basically one edge of a parking lot that borders a public sports park (soccer fields, Olympic sized pool empty save for graffiti and weeds). Independence itself seems to be struggling with life in the 21st century, more so than Ike’s Abilene.

Attn: Geographers and geologists... (KS)

... a crosssection of the land in north-eastern Kansas. This cut for a freeway is vertical, not slopped.

Yes, there is also an Agricultural Hall of Fame... (KS)

Not wanting to miss anything exciting, we turned off and visited the National Agricultural Center & Hall of Fame ($6 senior). Marcia, granddaughter of a farm family, was underwhelmed and stayed in the car, reading, so I made the visit quick: Lots of farm equipment from wooden implements to modern powered harvesters, and an interesting original farm home. The obligatory barbed wire collection, but missing (or I didn’t spot it) the obligatory branding iron exhibit. These, to me anyway, are as uninteresting as they sound, but they keep popping up here and there. Neither as interesting as a good telephone insulator collection, or early computing collection.

Bob Dole is about the only name I easily recognized in the Agricultural Hall of Fame. He is heralded for originating and/or voting for every imaginable bill favorable to farming, and of course is from Kansas.

Ft Leavenworth, KS - Yes sir, no sir... (KS)

Earlier we came across a turnoff to Ft Riley, KS, and the Army Cavalry Museum but my hands were glued to the steering wheel as my mind slowly debated stopping, and we drove on as no decision was reached. Not wanting to suffer this again, I turned off instantly when presented with an opportunity to travel 11 miles to the Frontier Army Museum at Ft Leavenworth, KS.

This was a very slow 11 miles as the afternoon rush-hour was building. On one missed turn we saw the Ft Leavenworth prison, which reminded me of my Army friend Bob Manos, a very moral and honest guy but a little naïve; McPherson suckered Manos into ripping out the barracks plumbing, and I knew it was happening. When the MPs came McPherson, of course, was no longer around and Manos was nabbed and I was questioned as a potential witness. Although threatened with 20 years of hard labor I held fast with my claim of ignorance, and Manos—truthfully a fine person, with just a small character flaw—was sent off to Leavenworth. He came back months latter a broken man. As for me, I was never awarded the nearly automatic Good Conduct Metal, either because of my intransigence, or maybe just because the bureaucracy fails now and then. I hope the former.

So returning to the present, we pulled into Ft Leavenworth with trailer in tow, and were brought to a halt and boarded by at least three guards. Marcia and I had to show IDs and purpose, and most unfairly, the truck and trailer had to submit to full body-cavity searches. When it was over, a woman guard came to me and with a smirk said, “You have a nice trailer there, sir.”

We then proceeded to the museum without even a stick-on day pass and toured until closing, 20 minutes later. It was an okay museum, not great.

Ah--no grass here, man. (KS)

On I-70 out of Abilene we detoured to the unlikely-named town of Manhattan, home of Kansas State University, where Marcia bought some art supplies and a fire extinguisher inspector tried patiently to show us how to get to the Konza Prairie overlook. He was very nice, but after a few miles we reversed our route and followed our noses, which this time worked. The Nature Conservancy overlook declares this to be the last stand of native tall grasses, never cut and never grazed. We looked out, thinking we were seeing buffalo but the dark spots turned out to be cattle, and the grass was maybe a foot high at most. And the promised trail through the tall grasses turned out to be a 100-yard cement loop. Marcia is convinced the nature trail through the “eight foot high prairie grass” is there somewhere, but we couldn’t find it.  The wrong time of year?

No guns??? Now I've gotta go back to the trailer... (KS)

We first encountered this "no handguns" sign on the entrance to the Eisenhower museum and thought it rather odd that it would be necessary. I guess this is the real west.

Later we found it regularly on public buildings in KS, MO, and I think IL.

I'd like a decaf latte grande with... (KS)

Marcia orders a cup-of-joe for me at a Sonic Burger drive-in.  I idle on the street with the trailer.

Stovers Candies, and the fine southern eating at the Brookfield Hotel (KS)

We attempted a tour of the Stovers candy factory, but found it was only a major distribution center and outlet store. But Marcia did find some chocolate to buy, fortunately.

Dinner at the Brookfield Hotel, which is neither a hotel nor in Brookfield (KS). It is a copy of a hotel/restaurant that was in Brookfield, but the business was moved to Abilene about seven years ago. Now all restaurant, it has been serving fried chicken dinners under the same family ownership since something like 1915. $12.95 for half-a-chicken, coleslaw, creamed corn, mashed potatoes and gravy, baking powder biscuit, strawberry preserves, pickled peach, and home-style vanilla ice cream—all served family style on a linen tablecloth, and they trusted us: the tablecloth was not topped with glass or plastic or paper. Not as good food as it may sound, if it sounds good at all to a Californian. But a great experience anyway.

Yes, there is a Greyhound Hall of Fame... (KS)

We’re referring to the dogs, not the bus company. A surprising Abilene treasure, seemingly as well funded as the Eisenhower Center, but free admission. Got to pet a couple of nice looking well dispositioned 12-year-old greyhounds, former racers. The museum heralds the raising of greyhounds as pets and racers since the earliest time, and the progression of greyhound racing in the US. Lots of history and bronze busts, both dogs and promoters. Encourages the adoption of retired athletes.

Don’t mean to be impolite, but was that you? (KS)

Ike and Mamie are buried in what is called a meditation center on the Eisenhower Library campus. Our neighbor at our campground, an Abilene native now living in Texas, said he goes there on every visit to meditate and pray. We went, but left fairly quickly. Don’t know the cause, but the smell was awful – like a crummy convalescent home. Are the Eisenhower graves too shallow?

Abilene definitely likes Ike... (KS)

We like Abilene, too. Hasn’t changed much from the 1950s, downtown not much going on, early wealth seems to have moved on, or spent it all; many nice mansions, now preserved as museums open to costly tours. What we liked were the middle-class residential areas of two-story wood-frame homes with large front porches, tree-filled yards.

The Eisenhower presidential library, museum and home are here in what is called the Eisenhower Center. Few visitors this September day – she started up the short introductory film just for us. Museum is well done, covering Ike’s life in Abilene up to his appointment to West Point, his military career and the war, his years as president, and his post-presidential life. Eisenhower was born in Texas but spent his formative years in Abilene. The family home is not elegant or large but quite nice, and all Ike’s siblings were quite successful.

One week report card (KS)

This marks the start of the second week on the road. Marriage still strong and we are adjusting well to 25 linear feet of living space. Truck doing well, trailer doing well, although a minor wood trim piece in the trailer shook loose. Pesky flies and running out of chocolate chip cookies may be all that can put this expedition into jeopardy.

Taking time to smell the roses is harder than anticipated. Much of the area through Denver we’ve seen before, so we mostly just drove. East of Denver is all new, but at 60+ MPH and no knowledge of what is coming, it is hard to break pattern and explore off the freeway.

Blogging, also, is both harder and easier than anticipated. I’m trying not too successfully to avoid the “what we ate for breakfast” clichés, and concentrate on things that might be of interest, but it is hard. More photos would help—we didn’t even get a picture of Erika and Dan!—so we are trying a little harder. I’m surprised how easily I’m able to put down the words, easier for me than keeping a formal journal; now I need to learn to trim those words, and recognize in real-time when a photo is needed.

This must be Kansas... (KS)

Western Kansas is one of those areas where you can photograph a sunset and later a sunrise and nobody will know the difference. Truly the plains, uninterrupted by mountains, hills, buildings, or often even trees. And I know this isn’t Oklahoma, but the corn is definitely not as tall as an elephant’s eye.

Eastern Kansas seems nicer, more trees and more rolling hills, and a little more health to the small communities. We visited Hays and Fort Hays, an Indian fighter fort from the 1860s-1870s. Large, in addition to defending the settlers and the railway it had a logistics role supplying other plains forts. It was large enough to get away with no surrounding stockade. Indians were reluctant to attack such large numbers of soldiers, and in turn the soldiers could easily see the Indians coming across the flat lands. Wild Bill Cody and Buffalo Bill Hickok interacted with the fort over the years, and Custer once served here.

Tonight and tomorrow night we’re staying at the Covered Wagon RV Resort in Abilene, $21/night with hookups and WiFi. Older campground but quite pleasant, with large shade trees and spacious gravel and grass sites. The same small, quiet, sluggish flies we’ve been dealing with since eastern Colorado—easily swatted, but annoying.