Roseville to Oakland in 78 days...

Our journey is complete. (CA)

2007-11-22T19:47:00.000-08:00

Our goal is complete - Roseville, CA to Oakland, CA in about 78 days.

We celebrate Thanksgiving 2007 at John and Carmen's home in Oakland, California!

Yes, we are home!

2007-11-19T20:32:00.000-08:00

Yes, we arrived home today, safe and sound and happy, but a little tired.

Wednesday and Thursday we will officially end this journey by celebrating Thanksgiving with John and Carmen and many others in Oakland.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Cam & Marcia

Drive, they said... (AZ, CA)

2007-11-18T21:34:00.000-08:00

We were undecided on what to see in the Phoenix area and with Thanksgiving approaching decided just to drive. This was a little depressing for both of us, as our trip exceeded our expectations and we could have happily instantly joined another caravan. Home will seem too routine.

On our way out of Tempe we tried to spot the Frank Lloyd Wright designed auditorium on the ASU campus. We saw one candidate but Marcia said it didn’t look quite Wright.

Today we drove over 520 miles in somewhat more than 9 hours – a long day, particularly dealing with traffic on I-210 and I-5, and the sad shape of California’s freeways. Our first tank of diesel on returning to California was $3.78/gal – a fine welcome home.

Tonight we are at the Orange Grove RV Park in Bakersfield, one of our favorite stops. It is in the middle of an orange grove and you can have all the oranges you can pick.

Good WiFi here, which is why I managed to post about a week of traveling in an hour. Fortunately no more than an hour - a big 5th wheeler pulled in the site next to me, blocking my WiFi signal.

We will be home tomorrow (Monday).

A desert museum and Saguaro National Park… (AZ)

2007-11-17T21:28:00.000-08:00

Thirty-two degrees outside but our trusty electric heater kept things inside in good shape, with a little propane furnace boost on our rising. Outside it warmed rapidly and was up to 84 degrees by the time we reached Tempe AZ.

Today we went to the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum, near Tucson AZ. It is aptly described as a zoo, natural history museum, and botanical garden all in one – very much worth the visit. Large creatures such as mountain lions, black bear, wolf, deer, coyote, and big-horn sheep are displayed naturally; each habitat provides two, sometimes three, viewing angles. Marcia suggested feeding is handled at night by opening the enclosures and allowing nature to do its thing. Smaller animals such as snakes, lizards, and birds are also easily viewed, and trails introduce botanical aspects of the Sonoran desert.

This is the land of the saguaro, the tall desert plant that from a distance might look like a large human. So we went to Saguaro National Park (west – the other part is east of I-10) and went on a 6-mile loop drive through saguaro forests. The park is within a couple miles of the Desert Museum and is a bit anticlimactic as the museum has many saguaros; nevertheless it is an easy trip worth the brief time it required.

Tonight we are staying in Tempe AZ, competing with the snowbirds for the available RV spots.

We paid $3.39 for diesel this morning and $3.46 in Tempe AZ in the evening.

Ft Davis, skip the PRADA outlet, go to Willcox AZ… (TX, NM, AZ)

2007-11-16T21:25:00.000-08:00

During my shower the water rose in the shower pan. The trailer has electronic sensors that provide green-yellow-red status of the tanks. The gray water indicated “green” prior to Marcia’s shower, and we both take navy showers, so having the water rise unexpectedly is annoying. We’ve had this problem before.

You can’t just drive to a dump station with water sloshing about the inside of your trailer, although I once read an account of a guy on the internet that tried it. So I drained to the ground enough gray water to empty the pan, then we drove carefully to the dump station and emptied the rest – deer watching us all the way, with disapproving looks.

What to do to cheer up? Why, a hot breakfast and coffee at the nearby lodge, of course. The Indian Lodge, a 1933 CCC project, looks quite nice, and we had a good breakfast with gigantic surely unhealthy biscuits. Neither of us had really needed being cheered up, but a break in our usual trailer breakfast routine was indeed nice.

We left camp at probably 9:30 AM, bought $20 of diesel in Ft Davis for $3.65/gal and drove a very scenic Hwy 118 to Hwy 166 to Hwy 505 to Hwy 90 to I-10 west.

On Hwy 90 we drove through the town of Valentine, a typical desert community of brown adobe or stucco wood frame structures leaning this way and that, and abandoned stuff all about. The sign gave a population of 468, but we couldn’t imagine 50. All the homes and businesses face on the highway and almost all showed signs of abandonment sometimes in the last ten years. Why did everyone so suddenly leave? We don’t know, anymore than we could understand why they were there in the first place. Ranching? The railroad?

But someone had a sense of humor: about a half mile west of town, a single white storefront stood with large display windows. We could see a few pairs of women’s shoes, and the sign above the store said “PRADA”.

El Paso was our only traffic snarl, complicated by a drizzling rain and a need for diesel ($3.25). But for some reason today our 15.8 MPG decreased to 15.7 and then 15.6. Marcia thinks a headwind.

We drove through Texas and New Mexico into Arizona, and spent the night in Willcox at the Lifestyle RV Resort ($26), maybe 40 miles into Arizona. Not a bad camp for gravel, but more than we needed on this 440-mile 9-hour driving day—exercise gym, pool, etc. Well, maybe we did need those things, but we didn’t use them.

Unfortunately, couldn’t get the WiFi to work.

McDonald Observatory: What’s up, Doc??? (TX)

2007-11-15T21:18:00.000-08:00

The traditional looking telescope is the Smith 107-inch. The other, in the geodesic dome, is the 433-inch HET telescope. The photo of the HET was taken from a glassed-in (but heated!) visitor area and is a little confusing. The top part is the inside of the geodesic dome that makes the walls of the observatory. The large crossed members are what link the top and bottom ends of the telescope and allow it to be focused and rotated – replacing the tube in a traditional telescope. At the bottom is a pair of jeans attached to an engineer; he is adjusting the mirror right over his head; that mirror is on the front edge of 95 mates that gather and focus starlight. The blue pipe follows the perimeter of the mirror array.

As part of the serendipity of travel, we stumbled into a nearly three hour tour of the McDonald Observatory, a short drive from our campground in this very sparsely population section of Texas.

Our engineer guide first talked to us in the visitor center about our place in the universe (insignificant, it seems, in case you hadn’t heard) and about our own sun. His technology allowed him to intersperse live telescopic looks at the sun, and that failing because of passing clouds, DVR images of what people saw on previous visits. Solar flares, sun spots, and such like. It was very well done and cool technology.

He then shuttled us to a 6900 foot peak where we enjoyed an inside tour of the 107-inch Smith Telescope Observatory, constructed in 1968. Our guide demonstrated practically everything – the aiming of the telescope, the rotating of the dome and opening of its doors, even the raising of the floor we were standing on – this designed to ease maintenance access. He said the nearest Wal-Mart is 90 miles away making this peak in the middle of nowhere a great place to stargaze. About 125 engineers, astronomers, and other support people live there fulltime. There are few school age kids, which is not surprising.

The only negative for us was the ambient temperature – about 38 degrees, inside and outside. This is less of a problem for modern astronomers because they are located in a distant heated space, images gathered and transmitted electronically.

We then toured the Hobby-Eberly Telescope, dedicated in 1997 and having a 433-inch mirror (Palomar is 200 inches). It looks unlike the traditional telescope as there is no visible tube, and the reflective mirror is made up of 96 separate smaller mirrors rather than one large mirror. This allows the gathering of even more and dimmer starlight at a lower cost.

Fort Davis in West Texas… (TX)

2007-11-15T21:15:00.000-08:00

Officer Quarters across the Fort Jefferson parade grounds, taken from the enlisted barracks. The other picture is just of a nice agave.

Fort Davis is about 32 miles south of I-10 on Hwy 17, in the Davis mountain range, at about 5000 ft. This morning it was 36 degrees outside. Brrrr. Inside we are fine with our trusty electric heater.

We are staying in Davis Mountain State Park – nice, with good meal service at the adjoining Indian Lodge. The drive in was also nice, the topography changing from west-Texas rolling hills to a hint of low mountain, with vertical basalt-like rock pillars.

The fort is named for Jefferson Davis. At the time he was US Secretary of War, not president of the Confederacy. Built in 1854 it was a frontier fort protecting emigrants and trade lines on the San Antonio – El Paso road. With the Civil War it was abandoned by the Union and briefly held by the Confederacy, then abandoned again. In 1867 it was re-occupied by the US Cavalry but the fort was so decrepit it had to be rebuilt. The remains here today date from 1869-1891 and involve a lot of reconstruction. The fort was again abandoned in 1891 as no longer having a purpose with the conclusion of the Indian Wars.

400 miles fueled by junk… (TX)

2007-11-14T21:13:00.000-08:00

Bob got us a round of excellent breakfast tacos from yet a different Mexican restaurant and at 9:30 we left, Bob watching carefully as I unwound the trailer from his utility lines.

This was perhaps our most horrible day food wise, as we subsisted on a bag of potato chips, a bag of ginger snaps, a 32-oz soda, some chocolate, an apple, a DQ cookie-dough blizzard, a soft-serve vanilla, more chips and cookies, and finally a nice light diner of leftover beans, cheese, and tortillas, and some green vegetables from the refrigerator.

We covered a little over 400 miles today and have taken a diversion, to Fort Davis, a Texas State Park and National Historic Site.

We visit Jan & Bob in San Antonio… (TX)

2007-11-13T21:06:00.000-08:00

Mileage has ticked up another decimal place to 15.8 MPG, hard to believe after around 7000 miles. Diesel clicked down a bit in price, about $3.27/gal as we approached San Antonio TX.

We left Vinton LA (a few miles short of the TX border) about 9 on a foggy morning continuing on I-10, bypassing (somewhat) Houston on I-610, then returning to I-10. The Houston area remains as ugly from the freeway as I remembered it, but the long drive to San Antonio was nice. Marcia drove about an hour when the sun began to make me drowsy – the temperature was in the 80s.

We arrived at Jan and Bob’s house in San Antonio about 3:30 PM, covering 327 miles today. They graciously let us spend the night in their driveway, which required some maneuvering as their street is very narrow. Only when we were in place did we notice the power lines overhead! They are touching plastic and fiberglass elements of the trailer roof.

Marcia visited Jan a couple years ago and raved about a certain Mexican restaurant, so after some conversation and a couple glasses of wine we were off to downtown San Antonio – a much larger city then when I was stationed here 1964-65. The restaurant is called Picante Grill and it is indeed fantastic. A very unassuming place but food well beyond you staples of excellent tacos, enchiladas, burritos, fajitas, etc. I had a chili stuffed with minced pork and Marcia had the casserola problana (spelling?). Sadly I can’t think of a comparable Mexican restaurant in San Diego, my previous gold standard, let alone Roseville.

We returned to Jan’s for a couple games of dominos, more conversation, amusement watching their four dogs and three cats (all but one a former stray), then it was off to bed.

Burning miles... (FL, AL, MS, LA)

2007-11-12T20:02:00.001-08:00

Photos, mostly from moving car, top to bottom: Mobile AL; Mississippi; Mississippi Visitor Center (a genuinely classy place, a bit colonial); Baton Rouge LA; Atchafalaya NWA LA (from a causeway that went for many miles over this very large NWA).

Our drive yesterday confirmed that we must press on, burning miles with little opportunity to investigate the things the route has to offer. This is sad.

We left Wal-Mart at 9 AM continuing west through Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and to 40 miles short of Texas before camping in Vinton, Louisiana, about 4:30 PM. Touring consisted of our first visit to a Cracker Barrel, a home-cooking restaurant favored by RVers. Excellent RV parking, OK food. Might be fun to try for a breakfast.

Otherwise, the only thing of interest was the decline in the quality of the pine trees bordering the freeways as we went west. Some of this was Katrina damage – trees broken off several feet above the ground, other trees bare of branches, fields with few trees still standing. Our campground in Vinton only recently reopened because of storm damage. But the casinos are back – they make up at least half the signs along the freeways, and certainly 90% of the newer signs.

Marcia and Cam head for home! (GA FL)

2007-11-11T19:59:00.000-08:00

We got off at 9:30 this morning, but not without incident. We forgot our Airstream doormat, which was on a picnic table drying from the previous night's disaster. Others found it and by very circuitous handoffs we should receive it back about March or April.

Then, perhaps an omen, I nearly clocked a pelican as we drove off the island. He was flying crosswise to us at low level, passing not too many feet in front of our truck.

We drove south on I-95 and eventually picked up I-10 heading west through Florida. We decided to change to Hwy 20, which had been suggested to us as more interesting. This narrower road dropped our driving speed by about 10 MPH but we thought it might be worth it, and then all traffic came to a halt. Ahead of us was a spilled motorcycle, nobody around, and maybe 200 yards on was a car crosswise to the road and something in the street. By the time we abandoned hope of forward, we had lost maybe an hour and had to retrace our steps back to I-10 in order to resume our journey west. We drove until 6:30 PM, far later than we intended, and spent the night in a Wal-Mart parking lot about an hour short of Pensacola.

We shutdown the camp bringing shame to the caravan… (GA)

2007-11-10T19:52:00.000-08:00

Pulling into our campsite after the party, I ran into a PVC hose bib, creating a mini-geyser. Water began to build rapidly and flow toward the neighbors and out on the road.

The campground office was closed so I went to Jamie’s rig – he who thought he was rid of us just minutes previous.

I was in luck; Marcia’s thank-you gift of a watercolor (ironic) apparently extended a protective shield to me, and Susan and I went to find the campground host. She identified herself and hesitating just briefly said that I had a leaky hose big. The host said he’d come check so I thanked Susan and road back with the host in his campground golf cart.

There we saw water still spraying and a good-sized lake, extending from my site to the neighbors. The neighbor, his spouse, and their teenage daughters—the daughters probably very bored until this point—were standing around trying to decide how bad things were going to be. The host sped off in his cart as I made small-talk with my neighbor, reminiscing about my days with a tent-trailer as he too has one. The lake now extended under his trailer and was moving toward their fire pit, and he made the comment he couldn’t find matches anyway. He was such a good sport I went and found him matches.

Then out of the dark two golf carts converged on the now comparatively quiet hose-bib, and five strangers to me gathered in the headlights to figure out what to do. This is when I learned the campground was now totally without water, creating some urgency. The five were actually having a good time, nothing much apparently having happened this season. One said it was too bad only Jim knew where to turn the water off, and they should do something about that. The others offered advice to someone (Jim?) on how to deal with the broken pipe, still flowing readily because the break was at ground-level making it the drainage point for the 100+ site campground. The one person that knew what he was doing made some lighthearted comment and the next thing I knew the thing was fixed; some kind of 3-second PVC glue that works under water. At least that’s what one of the don't-know-what-to-do guys told me.

I said goodnight to my neighbors, who were now enjoying their campfire, picked up some things around our site so they could dry out, and adjourned to my trailer. There I found Marcia intently playing computer solitaire, pretending in her way that she was no part of what had happened.

The caravan disbands… (GA)

2007-11-10T19:41:00.000-08:00

We all went to the Jekyll Island Club Hotel for cocktails, a beautiful sunset, and dinner – the last event of our 40 day caravan. Only Cathy (with a ‘c’) couldn’t make it – too uncomfortable with a dislocated shoulder and sprained ankle from her Vertigo attack.

This was an incredible 40 days, thanks to our great co-leaders Jamie and Susan, the excellent chemistry between the 48 participants, and the southern seaboard that we toured.

We will definitely do another caravan.

Jamie and Susan get an MHM signed original…(GA)

2007-11-10T19:36:00.000-08:00

As our thank-you to our caravan leaders, Marcia painted this “follower” view of their rig, an early Airstream motorhome. I delivered the painting, and we later learned from Jamie and Susan how pleased they were to receive it. Good job, Marcia.

Tabby, but not the cat... (GA)

2007-11-10T19:23:00.000-08:00

These southern coastal areas have an abundance of oyster and clam shells. The early settlers learned quickly that the shells could be mixed with a little lime, sand, and water to form a concrete-like construction material called "tabby". This wall, at Fort Federica, dates from the early 18th century.

Even today, communities will often use ground-up shells as a road base.

St Simons Island... (GA)

2007-11-10T19:17:00.000-08:00

Today we drove with Kathy and Dave to St Simons Island, toured the waterfront, and Fort Federica

As a bonus a Coast Guard patrol boat—about 85 feet long—was having an open house.

Marcia and I found the patrol boat tour interesting because we had both just completed reading The Light Keeper’s Son, by Homer Hickman. The book is set at the breakout of WWII and is partly about a light keeper’s son (you guessed that much) that captained a Coast Guard patrol boat off the outer banks as German U-boats began to take their toll on shipping. The book was very interesting from an historical perspective, covering life on a small outer-bank island in less busy times, but becomes a bit hokey near the end. Fair warning, if you decide to read it. A fast read, good airplane fare.

Fort Federica was built starting in 1736 by the British under General Oglethorpe in an attempt to secure Georgia and perhaps parts of Florida from the Spanish; Spain had a fort less that a 100 miles south in St Augustine Florida, to secure Florida and claims on Georgia. Both sides knew this was a situation that would end in fighting, and in 1740 Oglethorpe attacked St Augustine without success. The Spanish returned the favor in 1742 moving northward to attack Federica, but in the Battle of Bloody Marsh the Spanish were defeated and withdrew. Later Spain signed a treaty giving the English claim to all areas.

On our visit the Fort had a very good docent that put the battle in perspective. A lot of archeology work has been done at the fort and the adjacent small town of 1000 inhabitants. A worthwhile visit.

A little off the top, please... (GA)

2007-11-10T19:13:00.000-08:00

On long caravans, haircuts become necessary but you don't always have an official barber available.

Jekyll Island good stuff... (GA)

2007-11-09T19:04:00.000-08:00

The picture to the left-bottom is of our campground entrance. The two building photos are different views of the Jekyll Island Club Hotel, built in 1882. The gargoyles are on the nondenominational church, which also had front and rear Tiffany windows.

Cotton was king on Jekyll Island, but the Civil War’s end sent it in a rapid decline. The island then progressed through several owners until purchased by a consortium of very rich people (Rockefeller, Pulitzer, Crane, Vail, Koehler, Morgan, Gould, etc.) who founded the Jekyll Island Club. They built large but not particularly ostentatious homes, a grand club now a hotel, and common facilities such as an infirmary, nondenominational church, and wharf. It was a place of relaxation and an opportunity to escape the winters back home, and spend quality time with their families and wealthy contemporaries.

Membership declined during the depression and the club shut down in 1942 as servants were drafted into the military. It never reopened and was eventually seized by the state of Georgia for not paying nonpayment of property taxes.

Today it is a state park with a campground on one end, miles of beaches, 22 miles of bike trails, the historical area, the Sea Turtle Center, the original Jekyll Island Hotel, additional hotels, and about a thousand private residences that look about 1960s vintage – an attempt by the state to capture some more revenues.

I do not know how the state garners enough revenues to cover the costs of all this – the concept is somewhat like a large Asilomar but with many high maintenance buildings generating little or no revenue.

Our campground seems large and our rigs are well scattered, making socializing a little more difficult. But the grounds are nice, with many trees.

This morning we were taken on a trolley tour of the island, including the historical area. We had access to the Rockefeller vacation home, with has a large walk-in safe in the livingroom. No credit cards in those days, just bearer bonds for these guys. And she got a far better bathtub.

In the afternoon Marcia and I bicycled with Ed and Susan maybe 12 miles of the island and had a very fine dinner at Latitude 31, a small seafood restaurant on the Club’s old wharf. In Club days the wharf was the only island access – now there is a bridge.

Untrouble at Jekyll… (GA)

2007-11-08T19:00:00.000-08:00

Fortunately, Cathy was diagnosed with an attack of vertigo, something she has had before but not in many years, and not a stroke. On the downside, the vertigo caused her to fall, and she dislocated a shoulder. She is back in the campground, feisty as ever, and confident she can still deal cards.

Trouble at Jekyll… (GA

2007-11-08T18:59:00.000-08:00

Sadly, we couldn’t make it to the end without trouble. Cathy (our bridge instructor, song leader, and all round happy person) appears to have suffered a stroke and was taken to the hospital this evening.

We become deparkers and drive to Jekyll Island… (GA)

2007-11-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

Marcia, Judy and I were deparkers this morning, meaning we checked each departing Airstream to make sure signal lights were working and everything looked safe for travel. Unfortunately Judy found one of her own tires soft, so we inflated it with my compressor only to find her tire still not holding air (bad valve stem). Judy has had bad luck this trip – a fresh-water leak, a refrigerator door falling off en route, and now a flat tire.

We left with Phil helping Judy, and enjoyed a pleasant 110 mile drive to Jekyll Island GA, out last campground of the caravan. We were standing in a group commenting on how sorry we are it is nearly over, but Susan’s reaction was one of joy; you see, she is one of the leaders, and her responsibility ends Sunday.

Marcia admires aluminum... (GA)

2007-11-07T18:54:00.000-08:00

In camp at Tybee Island.

You can tell the weather has turned much cooler.

Marcia is happy as a clam… (GA)

2007-11-07T18:51:00.000-08:00

The beach in front of the Tybee batteries was Marcia’s best yet for shell finding.

She has released the shells at the left for public viewing, retaining about an equal number for possible release later, depending on the market.

Tybee Lighthouse … (GA)

2007-11-07T18:45:00.000-08:00

Marcia has about had her fill of light houses and I’m not very excited about seashells. We resolved this by parking at a central spot and I climbed the Tybee lighthouse and Marcia combed the beach.

Since it is my pen I shall describe what I found first, and in more detail.

In 1862 the Union set out to blockade all southern ports. It occupied Hilton Head SC which is visible from Tybee Island GA. The Confederacy under Lee watched the Union from the Tybee Island lighthouse. Then Lee, buying in to the idea that Ft Pulaski was invulnerable (he, incidentally, had a role in its design and construction as a 2^nd lieutenant fresh out of West Point), ordered Tybee abandoned and its troops moved to Ft Pulaski where they could shoot without getting shot. For good measure, he ordered the destruction of the Tybee lighthouse.

The Union soon occupied Tybee, surprised to find no resistance. The lighthouse, constructed of brick, suffered minimal damage and became a Union vantage point for observing Confederate activities in Ft Pulaski.

Under the cover of darkness the Union moved cannon and troops to where Tybee Island is closest to Cockspur Island, the site of Pulaski. Included were new weapons, featuring rifled cannon. The Union attacked with overwhelmingly superiority and the fort surrendered after 30 hours, with the results described in the posts about Ft Pulaski.

Today the lighthouse and keeper facilities are open to the public ($5/senior, including nearby batteries). This is one of the less visited lighthouses and touring is pleasantly self-guided and thorough. The 178-step climb to the top is alarmingly challenging. I ran into fellow caravaner Joe there; he told me he used to lead tours up a Washington lighthouse several times a day. He lost 15 pounds the first month.

One view from the lighthouse shows batteries Brumby and Garland – there are several others. These were started late in the 19^th century and grew from the failings of Ft Pulaski. They are low, made of reinforced concrete, and the seaward side was covered with sand and vegetation to pass as dunes.

Today History is strange, at times. The battery on the left now houses the local Shiners’ Club. The next one houses a bar and grill. The right one has an interesting museum, including in the admission price of the lighthouse. The batteries extend a couple floors below ground, for safe storage of explosives.

In WWI some cannon were sent to France. In WWII the remaining cannon were melted for scrap, and the military departed in 1947. In the 1950s the sand was removed to make room for a parking lot, and to provide building material for Hwy 80. Many batteries are simply abandoned, used for storage, or ineffectually barricaded with chain link fencing.

Tybee Island cop takes our mug shots… (GA)

2007-11-07T18:34:00.000-08:00

Cold and windy on arising, turning into a beautiful November day.

In the 1930s and 40s Tybee Island had many large resort hotels and a pavilion. It was a regular stop of the big bands, but that is now all gone now. Today it is mostly a community of quiet residences and vacation homes for inlanders wishing to escape the summer heat.

Our campground is just off US Hwy 80. We drove about five miles to its end and found this sign, saying the other end is San Diego. The map indeed shows intermittent stretches of Hwy 80 stretching west, but I’m not sure you can find it today in San Diego; you will find I-8. I-80, to confuse things, passes by Roseville with a terminus in San Francisco and an eastern terminus in, I believe, New Jersey.

A Tybee officer came by as I stood in the middle of the lightly traveled (in November, anyway) main street. I clicked and waited, and he hollered asking if we’d like a photo of the two of us. We said sure, so he parked his patrol car in the middle of the street and took the second picture. Nice guy.

Beyond this sign we found am amazing tidal beach, bordered on one side by the Atlantic Ocean and on the other angle by the Tybee Creek, looking like a lot more than a creek. Nobody was out and we enjoyed walking around. Signs warn of strong currents, don’t swim.