Notes From The Road - "The Gypsy Journal"

  We love to feature blogs of folks who live the RV lifestyle and report on their journey. This is from the "Gypsy Journal" blog and we found it to be an interesting and good read.

 We were hanging around the Elkhart Campground in mid-October when a group of old GM motorhomes came in for a rally. I love these neat old coaches, so I poked my nose out into the cold to take a couple of photos of some of them. What great rigs! Seeing them almost made it worth hanging around in northern Indiana that late in the season. Almost, but not quite.

In spite of the overall nasty weather, which ranged from cold, windy and rainy to downright ugly, we did have some good times, There weren’t many people at the campground that late in the season, but Greg and Jan White were parked near us, and we spent a lot of time together, which was a lot of fun.

We first met Greg and Jan when they came to Life on Wheels as students, and I remember that during my Reluctant RVer seminar Jan began to cry. She told me later it was because she felt like I was talking directly to her and addressing many of the fears she had about fulltime RVing. Jan credited me with “talking her in off the ledge” when she wasn’t sure if she could go through with the change to the fulltime lifestyle. Whenever somebody tells me something like that, I am very flattered, and I feel good that maybe I could make a positive impact in their life in some small way.

Scratching Our Hitch Itch

We spent several days in Elkhart asking ourselves “Is today the day? Will the weather clear enough for us to travel safely?” Days of rain and high winds made it unwise to hit the road when we were safely ensconced in our campsite, so we just sat tight and waited for a break in the weather.

After a week of gloomy sky, wind, and rain, the morning of November 1^st dawned bright and sunny, with no wind. A perfect day for traveling and we were finally able to hit the road and give our bad case of hitch itch a mighty scratch!

Miss Terry stowed away the things inside the motorhome that needed to be secured so they didn’t become a deadly missile in the event of an accident, while I unhooked our water, electric, and sewer connection from the campground’s utility pedestal.

After running the slides in and pulling up our HWH leveling jacks, and a quick scan of our PressurePro tire monitoring system, we pulled out of Elkhart Campground a little after 11:00 a.m., got on the Indiana Toll Road and headed east about 50 miles to the junction with Interstate 69, which we followed south to Fort Wayne, Indiana, and then got on U.S. Highway 30 eastbound, a nice divided four lane highway with little traffic.

We crossed into Ohio and continued east past Van Wert, and eventually came to Interstate 75, and took it south to Dayton. There was a lot more traffic on the superslab, and in Dayton we ran into a long stretch of road construction, with narrow lanes and concrete barriers instead of shoulders. I was glad to leave the interstate again and get onto U. S. Highway 35, another nice four lane limited access road that carried us 140 miles southeast through farmlands and rolling hills to Gallipolis, on the Ohio River.

For most of us, an ideal driving day in an RV is 250 to 300 miles, but sometimes when the traveling is good, we find ourselves going past that. And so it was this day. By the time we pulled into the Wal-Mart Super Center in Gallipolis, Ohio and tucked ourselves into the far edge of the parking lot for the night, it was twilight and we had covered 387 miles. We had a bad case of hitch itch, and it just needed to be scratched!

Monitoring Engine Performance

After I wrote about their diesel engine monitoring systems for PC based computers in my blog, and included a link to Norm Payne’s excellent article on the Silverleaf Electronics monitoring system, the nice folks at Silverleaf loaned me one of their VMSpc cables to evaluate and review, and I had hooked it up to a small Acer netbook computer before we hit the road for this trip. The cable plugs into the data port under our RV’s dash, and the Silverleaf program monitors dozens of engine functions with digital displays that you can customize for your own needs.

According to the Silverleaf, we averaged 8.1 miles per gallon yesterday, most of it with the cruise control set at 63 miles per hour, though there were a few times when I was up around 66 or 67 MPH to keep up with the traffic flow.

The more I drive our Winnebago, the more I like it. Even towing our ¾ ton Ford van, the Cummins 350 horsepower engine had no problems coming up a few rather steep hills in southern Ohio, at 60 or 65 miles per hour. I’m impressed!  

Mothman, Mountains, And Mayberry

After a chilly night in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart, we were up bright and early the next morning. There were several things we wanted to see locally, so I went inside the store and obtained permission to leave our motorhome there for a couple of hours while we went exploring in the van.

Gallipolis was settled in the late 1700s by French aristocrats who fled the old country to escape the guillotine. It is the hometown of Bob Evans, founder of the Bob Evans Restaurant chain, and the family farm is now a tourist attraction that includes an RV park offering water and electric hookups and a dump station for $15/night.

While exploring the friendly community, we noticed several back in RV sites with water and electric hookups at a Public Access boat launch on the bank of the Ohio River downtown. I stopped at City Hall to ask about the sites, and learned that RVers passing through the area can stay for $25 a night. For free or $10 a night, I’d stay a while just to watch the riverboats going by, but for $25 a night, I’d pass.

We crossed the river on the Silver Memorial Bridge, and I think I may be getting over my bridge phobia, because I didn’t snivel once. The original Silver Bridge collapsed in 1967, throwing 70 cars into the river below and claiming 46 lives. Maybe I’m not over my phobia after all, and I just figured lightning wouldn’t strike twice in the same place.

On the West Virginia side of the river, Point Pleasant is a charming little town with enough to see and do to keep visitors busy for several days. In 1774, a force of Virginia militia was ambushed here by Shawnee and Mingo Indians and the fierce battle lasted for hours. In the end, 75 militiamen were killed, along with an estimated 33 Indians. Many consider this to be the first battle of the American Revolution. Today a small park on the riverfront where the battle took place includes an 84 foot high granite obelisk honoring the men who fought and died here.

Point Pleasant also has a place in paranormal history. Here, in 1966, a strange winged man-like creature that became known as Mothman was reportedly sighted. Since then there have been several reported sightings of the creature, usually before disasters. Several people claimed to see Mothman perched high in the girders of the original Silver Bridge before it collapsed. Since then, Mothman has become a worldwide phenomenon, with mention in documentary films, movies and television specials.

Sure, it’s probably just the figment of imaginations gone wild, but the folks in Point Pleasant took it serious enough to erect a state of Mothman on Main Street downtown, and there is a Mothman Museum just across the street.

With our sightseeing over, we returned to Gallipolis, picked up the motorhome, and crossed the river again. On the Ohio side of the river, U.S. Highway 35 had been a very nice divided four lane, but  a couple of miles into West Virginia, it dropped down to a two lane road with no shoulders, and lots of curves for maybe 25 miles, and then it became divided four lane again.

Before long, we joined Interstate 64 and followed it east a few miles into Charleston, where we picked up Interstate 77 south past the gold domed State Capitol building. Traffic was pretty heavy in Charleston, but before long we put the city behind us, and Interstate 77 became the West Virginia Turnpike.

We crossed into Virginia, stopped for fuel at the T/A truck stop in Wytheville, and in less than an hour we arrived at Mayberry Campground in Mount Airy, North Carolina. 

Mount Airy is the hometown of television star Andy Griffith, and the picturesque town was the inspiration for the fictional town of Mayberry in the old Andy Griffith show.

Andy and his trusty deputy Barney Fife probably wouldn’t recognize the old town these days. It has a Wal-Mart Super Center, Staples Office Supply, Golden Corral Buffet, Lowes, and other major stores and restaurants. This is a beautiful area, with a lot to see and do, and we spent a few days getting to know the area.

North Carolina Back Roads

Interstate highways are great for RV travel if you are just going from Point A to Point B. They are usually the quickest way to get where you’re going, but they lack any charm or character, so whenever possible, we love to travel the back roads, those two lane highways that take you through the small towns where you can see the real America.

Of course, some of the best adventures are found on back roads where an RV isn’t the most practical form of transportation. When we find a nice place to park for a few days, we leave the motorhome and go exploring in our van.

Mayberry Campground made an excellent base for doing just that. The campground’s owner, Benny East, is a great great grandson of Eng Bunker, one of the famous Siamese Twins, who settled in this area after a career touring in vaudeville. The twins died in 1874 and are buried a mile away, and we paid a visit to their gravesite. Then we set off down some narrow back roads where I’d never take an RV larger than a Class B van.

At the tiny village of Rockford, we stopped to check out the Rockford General Store, which has been serving the community since 1890. What a neat place! This cigar store Indian greeted us at the front door, and inside the owner welcomed us like long lost family members.

We loved looking at all of the things on display, from bulk candy to gourds, and after poking around in every corner of the store we had worked up an appetite. The store serves up delicious sandwiches that you’ll never find at McDonald’s or Burger King. I had the fried country ham and egg, and Miss Terry tried the thick cut pan fried bologna and cheese. Both were wonderful! We sat on rocking chairs on the front porch and passed the time of day with a local gentleman as we ate our lunches.

Saying Goodbye To Mayberry

We have had a fantastic time exploring the upper Piedmont plateau of North Carolina, and we could easily spend a couple weeks there. We know it’s an area we’ll return to again. The people are friendly, the scenery is beautiful, and there is a lot to see and do. But we had lots of ground to cover, and after a few days we were on the road again.

We drove 220 miles to Kinston, North Carolina, and arrived about 4:30 p.m. and took a site at Neuseway Nature Park. Situated on the Neuse River, the park includes a 52 seat planetarium, museum, nature trails, fishing ponds, and a campground with full hookup 50/30 amp electric back-in RV sites. At $12 a night, it’s a real bargain.

Soon after we got settled in, Patti Ivey came by to visit. We met Patti and her husband Mickey soon after they became fulltime RVers. Mickey developed the excellent RVer’s Notebook computer program, which is great for keeping track of all of your RV travels, equipment maintenance schedule, the people you meet along the way, and a ton of other information and memories. If you don’t have the RVer’s Notebook, check it out. It’s an excellent resource.

Unfortunately, we lost Mickey suddenly three years ago, and Patti is no longer traveling. She returned to her hometown of Kinston, and continues to market the RVer’s Notebook. We have not seen her since she got off the road, so a visit was very high on our agenda for our trip to North Carolina.

After giving Patti a tour of our motorhome, we went to dinner at King’s Restaurant, a North Carolina legend when it comes to barbecue. The food was delicious, and we enjoyed talking with Patti about life on and off the road, and the curveballs life sometimes throws at us.

A Lazy Day

After long days of driving from Indiana to North Carolina, then busy days playing tourist around Mount Airy, followed by the drive to Kinston, Miss Terry and I needed a day to just relax and recharge our batteries. So one morning we slept in, and then spent most of the morning just cuddling in bed and talking. I cherish these quiet times with the love of my life, and I believe they are one of the reasons why, after being together twelve years, we still feel like we’re on our first date.

When we finally got up and in gear, we didn’t go very far for most of the day. Instead, we stayed inside catching up on e-mail, cruising the internet, and catching up on some of the RV blogs we read on a regular basis.

Eventually I wandered outside, where I took a few pictures of the campground at Neuseway Nature Park. One thing that mystified me was why the campground electrical hookups were mounted on tall poles that my stubby little legs barely allowed me to reach. When our friend Patti Ivey came by to visit, I mentioned the strange electrical hookups, and she explained that they are that way to keep them above the high water level when the river floods. I made a mental note to myself not to be anywhere near here if the water starts rising!

Nick Goes To Mecca

Our friend Patti Ivey took us sightseeing, introducing us to her little corner of the world, and she is a great tour guide. It was Patti’s birthday, and we were honored that she chose to spend the day with us.

Patti drove us 30 miles east to New Bern, an affluent looking little community with a handsome downtown area whose streets are lined with small upscale shops offering gifts, art, and apparel.

I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs, but I have one major vice. I am a confirmed Pepsi Cola addict. So when Patti told us that my favorite soft drink was invented in New Bern, it was like a pilgrimage to Mecca for me. We made a beeline for the old drugstore building where a young pharmacist named Caleb Bradham experimented with spices and flavorings during the hot, humid summer of 1898, trying to come up with a combination that would please his customers’ taste buds.

He settled upon a concoction that he called Brad’s Drink, which was an instant hit. Word of the beverage soon spread, and Bradham renamed it Pepsi Cola, and began to market it regionally. Today Pepsi is known and loved worldwide, and I know that my contribution to the company’s bottom line is only exceeded by Pepsi’s contribution to my waistline.

Today Caleb Bradham’s drug store is a small gift shop selling Pepsi memorabilia and displaying a couple of nice old Pepsi machines, some vintage bottles, and replica advertising signs. Visitors were lined up at the counter sipping cold Pepsi and bantering with the young people working behind the counter.

After leaving the birthplace of Pepsi, we strolled along the sidewalks, stopping at the marina to admire some of the boats berthed there, including some very impressive yachts. They looked nice, but I get seasick too easy. I prefer my land yacht.

Exploring The Crystal Coast

With Hurricane Ida downgraded to a tropical storm, we were not too worried about it up in North Carolina. However, I wanted to get out of our campsite at Neuseway Nature Park in Kinston, because the high water markers from previous floods were over my head. One of the locals told me that the river carries a lot of water from the mountains in the western part of the state east to the Atlantic Ocean. I don’t tread water well, and our Winnebago probably wouldn’t float very well either.

We pulled out of the campground shortly after noon and drove 67 miles east on U.S. Highway 70 to Morehead City, where we parked on a paved lot at the Elks lodge, with 30 amp electric, waiting for the storm to pass.

We spent about a week exploring part of the Crystal Coast; an interesting, laid back region of North Carolina where you can find everything from bustling small cities like Beaufort and Morehead City, to quaint little fishing towns like Harkers Island. No matter what your interests are, from history to collecting seashells, to fishing, or just sitting back in a beach chair and watching the seagulls fly by, you’ll find it all there.

Fort Macon State Park is home to historic Fort Macon, which saw service from before the Civil War to World War II. The old fort was built as part of a chain of coastal defense forts, was seized by the Confederate Army during the Civil War and then recaptured after a siege by the Union Army, and has been restored to its glory days.

We enjoyed wandering through old barracks and climbing up to the fort’s walls to where sentries once stood guard duty, looking for enemy ships, blockade runners, and World War II German U-boats.

From Fort Macon, we drove 27 meandering miles to the charming little village of Harkers Island, where we stopped at the Cape Lookout National Seashore Visitor Center. It was here that we met a very nice man named Chuck Anderson, a fulltime RVer who is volunteering at the Visitor Center. He told us a little about his duties, we exchanged travel adventures, and then spent some time looking at the displays about the local wildlife and history.

Almost next door to the Visitor Center is the Core Sound Waterfowl Museum and Heritage Center. This was one of the most impressive off the beaten path museums we have ever visited. We expected to see exhibits on the region’s hunting heritage, and there were certainly plenty of them, from duck decoys to massive ten gauge shotguns.

We also met a local woodcarver named Anthony Brooks and watched him at work for a while. Though he was born and raised on Core Sound, Anthony had a distinctive Scottish accent that he said he inherited from his grandfather, instead of the southern drawl we’ve heard most people use locally.

From Harkers Island, we drove back to Beaufort to tour the North Carolina Maritime Museum, which focuses on the seafaring past of the area. Everybody from the notorious pirate Blackbeard to the brave men of the United States Lighthouse Service and commercial fisherman are remembered here.

The museum also has displays of fish and marine mammals that inhabit coastal waters, including this Great White shark caught 40 miles off Cape Lookout. This massive critter measured over fifteen feet long and weighed 2,080 pounds! Suddenly I wasn’t all that interested in launching my kayak anywhere around here!  

We had been bracing for predicted heavy rain and strong winds as the Tropical Storm Ida moved across the Southeast, but except for a few sprinkles while we were at Fort Macon, it was actually a pretty nice day. The promised heavy rain began falling about 3 a.m. the next morning, and it didn’t stop for several days. The temperature also dropped, from the mid-70s to the low 60s. At least the heavy wind that was supposed to accompany the rain did not appear.

With such nasty weather, we took a break from playing tourist and stayed inside. I cruised the internet, answered e-mails, and worked on the seminar schedule for our upcoming Arizona Gypsy Gathering rally.

Exploring Beaufort’s History

We waited years to explore the North Carolina coast, and unfortunately, the bad weather put a real damper (quite literally) on our visit. But, we made the best of it, taking advantage of any break in the storm to get out and see things.

We checked out Beaufort’s Hammock House, located just a block or two from the waterfront. The oldest house in Beaufort, the old building has been a local landmark since the early 1700s. The house has been an inn, school, and private residence over the years, and it is not surprising that many claim it is haunted.

Local legend says the pirate Blackbeard used to stay here when he was in Beaufort, and one tale says that after spending several weeks here with one of his wives while his ship was undergoing repairs, he got tired of her constant nagging. So when he was ready to put out to sea, the story says he hanged her from one of the home’s live oak trees and buried her in the yard. Local folks say you can still hear her screams on moonlight nights.

Another story says that a man named Richard Russell once lived in the house, and when he took a slave up to the attic to discipline him, the slave pushed him down the stairs and broke his neck. Some claim that Russell’s ghost has been spotted stalking back up the steps, possibly in search of revenge.

A Change Of Scenery

After spending five nights at the Elks lodge in Morehead City, we were ready for a change of scenery. Once the rain stopped, we hit the road and drove east on State Route 24 to Jacksonville, where we hooked up with U.S. Highway 17. We followed that route another 100 miles south to the South Carolina state line, passing by the sprawling Camp Lejeune Marine Corps base along the way.

U.S. 17 became a four lane surface route again south of Wilmington, but there wasn’t much traffic. We pulled into the South Carolina Welcome Center at the state line for a potty break, and a half hour later we arrived at the Moose lodge in Myrtle Beach. We had covered 170 miles, an easy day of driving. Most of the day had been gray and dreary, but about the time we crossed into South Carolina, we suddenly broke out into blue sky. After a week of stormy weather, that sure was a welcome sight!

The RV parking at the Myrtle Beach Moose lodge consists of several back-in sites on the edge of a big blacktopped parking lot, with 30 amp electric and water hookups. The only other RV there was a nice looking Winnebago Ultimate Freedom, so we didn’t feel crowded at all. At $10 a night, it’s a heck of a bargain in expensive Myrtle Beach, and one more example of the savings on overnight parking that Elks and Moose lodges offer to traveling members. The only drawbacks were that there was no dump station, and even though we had three bars of EVDO signal with our Verizon air card, the internet was really slow.

A Slow Start To A Slow Trip

Though we love the ocean and the beach, Myrtle Beach just didn’t appeal to either of us. It just feels too upscale touristy, so we didn’t linger very long. It was a little after noon the next morning when we pulled out of the Moose lodge. 

The first order of business was to find someplace to take on some fuel. I had been looking all the way from Morehead City, North Carolina the day before, but didn’t find any place I felt comfortable trying to navigate our big motorhome into and out of. We were not at the critical stage, but we were getting lower than I like to be.

It was 100 miles to Charleston, all of it four lane road, with a lot of traffic and a lot of traffic lights along the way, so we didn’t make very good time. We kept looking for a gas station that sold diesel and looked big enough to accommodate us, but the few we saw were either on the other side of the road, or we saw them too late to stop.

As we neared Charleston, I got on the CB radio and asked a truck driver where we could find a truck stop, and he recommended a Hess on the south side of Charleston. He also recommended that we take the Interstate 526 loop around the city instead of staying on U.S. 17, which would add a few miles but be much quicker and easier driving.

By then I was tired of stop and go driving, so we did just that, and I was proud of myself as we drove over two high bridges, first over the Wando, and then the Cooper River. I didn’t snivel once! If I keep this up, Miss Terry may let me start wearing big boy pants!

By the time we got off the bypass and back onto U.S. 17, I was starting to get uncomfortable with our fuel situation. The Silverleaf engine monitoring system said I still had a range of just over 100 miles before empty, but judging by what I had seen in the last 300 miles since we left Morehead City, I didn’t want to press my luck much further. We didn’t see the truck stop, but after another fifteen miles or so, we did spot a station with separate diesel pumps on the side. It was a tight squeeze, but we managed to get in and fill the tank. If my calculator is right, we got 7.8 miles per gallon on this tank, which is just what the Silverleaf showed.

Another 60 miles, most of which was slow going, brought us to Interstate 95. The sun was getting low in the sky, making it hard to drive with the glare, and the truckers on the CB were complaining about it. Since we’re not truck drivers and don’t have a schedule to keep, we don’t have to drive in conditions like that. We had covered 206 miles since leaving Myrtle Beach, and that was enough for me.

We pulled into the Georgia State Welcome Center, where signs were posted that said no overnight parking. I went inside to ask the attendant on duty if there was a truck stop or RV friendly WalMart nearby, and she said “Just stay out there overnight, nobody will bother you. Our state troopers who work this area know you’re not sleeping, you’re just resting. That’s what rest areas are for, right?” I like Georgia!

Flying High And Living High

We had a surprisingly quiet night at the Georgia State Welcome Center, and were on the road by 8:30 a.m. the next morning, which is probably a new record for us, but we had a lot of miles to cover.

We had a quick trip south to the Florida state line, even though we drove through a 20 mile long construction zone north of Brunswick. Regular readers Lucille and Larry Tillotson had e-mailed to advise us to take the I-295 bypass around Jacksonville rather than stay on the more challenging I-95 through town, and we found it to be an excellent road.

We knew that the space shuttle Atlantis was supposed to be launched at 2:28 p.m., and I told Terry we might get lucky and see it. She got her Olympus digital camera out, just in case, and sure enough, right on schedule, we saw it streaking toward outer space.

We were going down the highway at 60 miles per hour, but Terry managed to get a couple of photos through the side window of our Winnebago before it sped out of sight, leaving a thick contrail in the blue sky.

We left the highway in Titusville and pulled into The Great Outdoors, one of the premier RV resorts in the country. When we said we were headed to Florida, our longtime friends Pete and Connie Bradish had generously invited us to be their guests for a few days, which we very much appreciated.

This place was really impressive. They have two swimming pools, hot tubs, an eighteen hole championship golf course, fitness center, stocked fishing lake, recreation hall, as well as an on-site post office, bank, hair salon, and RV service facility.

There are hundreds of full hookup 50 amp RV sites, as well as RV ports, chalets, and upscale homes, some of which sell for over $600,000. Lots rent for over $1,100 a month during peak season, and the resort’s newsletter listed RV lots for sale by private owners for as much as $115,000. That’s a bit out of our price range, but we sure enjoyed experiencing the lifestyle of the rich and famous for a while! I think I just heard Robin Leach talking about champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

A Visit With Old Friends

Is there any greater treasure than the people you love in this life, and those who love you? While we were in Florida, Terry and I spent several days visiting with two very special people, who have helped enrich our lives in so many ways that I could not begin to count them all.

We met Tim and Ann Moran at our very first Escapees RV Club Escapade rally, in Lancaster, California in 2000, and there was an immediate bond that has stayed strong through all the years that followed. Maybe it was slogging through the mud to get to our motorhome, the four of us laughing and giggling like school kids as we slipped and slid across the muddy racetrack where the RVs were parked that let us know that we had met kindred souls.

Tim has been facing some serious health issues that have caused them to make the decision to stop fulltiming and settle down close to his doctors. It had been way too long since we saw our friends, and visiting them was the reason we came to the Titusville area. We spent a lot of time together, enjoying a tour of their new home, and the opportunity to just be together.

Florida’s Space Coast

Tim and Ann Moran were excellent tour guides, showing us around Merritt Island and Cocoa Beach, and the rest of Florida’s Space Coast. Usually when we are visiting a new area, Terry or I are driving, so it was a real treat to just sit back and watch the scenery and not have to worry about traffic.

We saw some beautiful homes along the Indian River that must easily cost a king’s ransom, and while they were certainly impressive, I didn’t see one that I’d trade our Winnebago motorhome for. I did see several whose garages probably had more square footage than our diesel pusher has.

We then drove through Port Canaveral, where two huge Carnival cruise ships were docked. Terry and I love traveling in our RV, but one of these days we would like to take a cruise, just for the experience. The old section of Cocoa Beach is much different from most of the glitzy tourist traps we’ve seen elsewhere in Florida. It reminded me of a time when people came to Florida to experience the ocean and palm trees, not giant mice and plastic attractions.

Tim retired from the Navy, and one benefit of his service that he and Ann enjoyed was staying at Fam Camps, which are RV parks on military bases nationwide. They drove us to Patrick Air Force Base, just south of Cocoa Beach, to show us the Fam Camp there, and we were impressed!

Located on the Banana River, the Fam Camp has 137 RV sites, many of which back up to the water’s edge, and a huge overflow area for dry camping. The Army was just as happy to see me go after one enlistment as I was to say goodbye, but many times I have wished I stayed in and made it a career. I told Miss Terry that after seeing the Patrick Fam Camp, I might just reenlist and do another sixteen years! She seemed to think that the Army probably wants me even less now than it did back in the day.

We saw several impressive Blackhawk helicopters parked on the flight apron at Patrick, and they sure are different from the old Huey’s I knew during my time in the Army. I’d love to fly in one of those babies!

Across from the main gate at Patrick is a beautiful beach that the locals call Surf Beach. Though it is on Air Force property, the beach is open to the public and we stopped to check it out. There were quite a few surfers out in the water waiting to catch a wave, and I managed to get a couple of pictures of them in action. It looked like a lot of fun, but I know it’s not for me. I have enough trouble standing upright on solid ground!

Up To My A$$ In Alligators

I had never seen an alligator in the wild, and doing so was one of the things on my personal bucket list. The Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, just a couple of miles from downtown Titusville, turned out to be the perfect place to accomplish that. Located next to the John F. Kennedy Space Center, the wildlife refuge covers 140,000 acres, providing habitat for more than 1,500 species of plants and animals.

Tim and Ann took us on a driving tour of the Refuge. Our first stop was the Visitor Center, where I got my National Park Passport stamped, and we checked out the exhibits on the Refuge and the area’s flora and fauna. I told a nice lady on duty in the Visitor Center that I was on a mission to see an alligator, and she gave us a map and some tips of places where we could expect to see plenty of alligators.

Her first suggestion was the Black Point Wildlife Drive, a seven mile loop that winds past wetlands, and includes a viewing area and restrooms. We had only driven a half mile or so before I spotted my first alligator in the wild, a small fellow maybe four feet long, lounging in the water of a shallow canal. I was thrilled, and we all piled out of Tim’s Jeep Cherokee and started snapping pictures. Very cool!

However, that was apparently the only alligator anywhere on the loop drive. We saw lots of birds, from egrets to herons, and plenty of fish jumping out of the water, but no more gators.

From there, we drove down Kennedy Parkway, a paved two lane road that ended at the Space Center. My friend from the Visitor Center said it was another good place to spot alligators, but we didn’t see any in spite of carefully scanning the banks of the channels and ponds as we drove by. I was disappointed, but what the heck, my goal was to see an alligator in the wild, and I had accomplished that, so it was a good day.

The final place the lady had marked on my map was the Bio Lab Road, a narrow six mile long dirt road sandwiched between the wide Intercoastal Waterway and a series of canals and brackish ponds. The south end of the road, where we turned onto it, was close to Playalinda Beach, one of a handful of beaches in Florida that allows nude sunbathing. Miss Terry shot me a look that let me know that was one thing I would not be scratching off my bucket list anytime soon!

We hit the jackpot on Bio Lab Road. Ann quickly spotted a large gator sunning itself on the bank of a canal, and again we all piled out of the Jeep to take pictures. Only a couple of hundred feet down the road, Terry saw the next alligator, another impressive specimen.

For the entire length of the road, we saw one alligator after another, either sunning themselves on the bank, swimming in the water, or submerged, with just their heads out of the water.

The alligators seemed to pretty much ignore us, and we were glad we had the canals between the alligators and us, though most of the canals were only a few feet wide, and I know gators can move pretty fast when they want to.

We were very careful to watch on both sides of the road, so that nothing slipped up behind us while we were looking the other way. Matted down areas in the grass showed us where the giant reptiles traveled. At one point Tim and Terry had climbed back into his Jeep, but Ann and I were still snapping away with our cameras when we heard a very loud splash in the water right behind us. We both jerked our heads around, then locked eyes, and made it back to the Jeep in record time!

So now I have seen an alligator in the wild. In fact, I have seen a lot of alligators in the wild. We lost count somewhere around ten of the creatures, but I’d say we saw at least fifteen, maybe twenty. And of course, as anyone who has spent much time in the outdoors will tell you, for every wild animal you see, there are plenty more that saw you and just kept still until you passed by.

Okay, scratch that one off the bucket list. Now where was that nude beach again? Anybody got some suntan lotion?

Rolling With The Flow

Fulltime RVers always say that their plans are written in Jell-O, and that’s a good thing, because it gives us the flexibility to go with the flow. Even when the flow is taking us where we don’t want to go!

We had planned to spend some time in Key West, and then bop around Florida for part of the winter. But we received a deposit on our MCI bus conversion and the buyer wanted to pick it up in Elkhart, Indiana in early December. Yes, Indiana in December! Can you say cold? But we needed to get the bus sale wrapped up, so we cut our Florida visit short.

Homecoming

We drove to the Escapees Plantation RV Park in Summerdale, Alabama for a few days before we headed back north.

I have always said that coming into an Escapees park is like a homecoming, because there is always somebody we know from our extended family of RVers on hand to greet us. This time was no exception. Todd Schmeling was parked next to us in his Newmar Mountainair motorhome. Todd is a longtime blog reader, and he has a neat little poodle (yes, a poodle) named Dolly that I had a great time playing with.

Soon after we got settled in and hooked up, Darrell and Judy Patterson came by to say hello. They have a lot here, and when they learned that we were coming, they e-mailed and invited us to dinner, but we had to decline because we are already booked solid. We have a lot of friends at Rainbow Plantation, and more at other RV parks in the area, and when they heard that we were headed this way, we were flooded with invitations for dinner or a visit. It feels good to be so loved.

I went for a walk around the park and ran into even more folks, including Jack Mayer. Jack and I have only met once before, but we have exchanged e-mails and comments on the Escapees Forum for years. Howard and Linda Payne from RVDreams.com are also here. We met Howard and Linda at Life on Wheels several years ago, and have kept track of them through their blog ever since.

At the 4 p.m. social hour at the park’s Activity Center, we ran into even more people that we know, including Norm and Linda Payne. (Yes, there are two Linda Paynes, and they’re both from Louisville!) They have the excellent See Ya Down The Road website, and after ten years of fulltime RVing, they have built a house here at Rainbow Plantation. Linda said that while they have a house now, they still have a lot of wanderlust left, and they keep their RV ready to hit the road at a moment’s notice.

There were lots of other folks who made us feel welcome, but these old gray cells aren’t what they used to be, and if I don’t write something down, I forget it pretty quick.

Headed North

We wanted to get an early start, but leaving an Escapees campground is never a quick thing. There are too many folks to talk to! Between saying goodbye to several people and checking out at the campground office, it was 10 a.m. when we finally pulled out. We had an easy run north on State Route 59 to the junction with Interstate 65 at Bay Minette, and then took 65 on its path north across the state. We ran in a mixture that ranged from a light mist to showers until we got past Montgomery, with one stop for fuel at a Flying J.

Traffic began to get heavier as we approached Birmingham, and soon we were in a tangle of construction zones, kamikaze drivers in four wheelers, and truckers trying to dodge them as they merged without yielding, and changed lanes without signaling. I don’t remember traffic in Birmingham being this hectic on past trips through the area, but after that trip, I was in no hurry to get back.

Once we were clear of Birmingham, we rolled north, making good time, and began to see blue sky above us, which was a welcome sight after the gloom we had been driving in.

By the time we crossed the Tennessee State Line it was late in the day and we were running out of time. It was getting pretty dark by 5:30 p.m., and though I had hoped to get past Nashville by the end of the day, it just wasn’t going to happen. We pulled into the Tennessean Truck Stop, about 60 miles south of Nashville, and parked way back in the furthest reaches of the lot, well away from the truckers.

After a nice dinner in the truck stop restaurant, we returned to the motorhome, shivering all the way. The temperature had really dropped! We started the day wearing T-shirts, but walking back to the motorhome wearing a T-shirt, sweatshirt, and jacket, I was still cold! We fired up the Onan Quiet Diesel generator and turned on the heat pump to warm up the rig.

Even with our late start, we covered 392 miles, and that’s a lot of driving in one day. Certainly much more than most RVers usually cover in a day. Usually 200 to 300 miles is a good day of driving in an RV, and gives you time to relax along the way, and get off the road and set up someplace early. But we were not in a relaxed RV travel mode where we were playing tourist, we were in our “go fast” mode to get up to Elkhart and take care of our business up there. It was too cold to play tourist!

After two hard days of traveling, we arrived at Duncan RV Repair in Elkhart about having covered 900 miles in two days. That’s a lot of driving!

Duncan RV has several 30 amp RV hookups available, and can do any type of RV service or repair, from simple tune-ups to body work and refurbishing. Our regular hangout, Elkhart Campground, was closed for the season, so we would be staying at Duncan’s while we wrapped up our business with the bus buyer. We also had an appointment to have Duncan do some work on our motorhome, killing two birds with one stone. Or at least in one trip.  Little did we know how bad our luck was about to turn!

A Violent Encounter

For the most part the RV lifestyle is extremely safe, especially in terms of personal safety. I have always told new RVers that they have more to fear from an RV fire, or the idiot coming at them at 60 miles an hour riding three tons of steel, than they do from a criminal. An incident December 4^th has proven to me just how wrong I have been.

That afternoon we picked up the fellow who flew in from California to buy our bus, and a friend who came to help him drive it back, at the airport in South Bend. By the time we drove back to Elkhart, showed them the bus, got them checked into a hotel, and took them to dinner, it was almost 9 p.m. when we drove back to the repair shop, where our motorhome was parked in their small camping area.

When we arrived a couple of days earlier, there were two other occupied RVs there, but the last one had apparently left that day. It’s a pretty dark place, and as we arrived and I got out of the van and went up to the RV, Terry said “Someone broke into our rig!” Sure enough, there was a softball sized hole in the door window, Terry yelled “He’s still inside!” and I found myself face to face with a husky young black man coming out the door.

I have been in the military, saw combat, I was a firearms instructor, have owned and carried a handgun most of my adult life, and have concealed weapons permits from two different states. But this lifestyle has made me complacent, and I seldom carry on a regular basis. And, when going to an airport, that could be a problem, so I wasn’t armed.

Our burglar, on the other hand, was armed with one of my own handguns, and as I yelled at him to show me his hands, he raised my Glock 9mm pistol toward us. The smart thing to do when we first spotted the broken window was to back off and call the police, but this all happened in a matter of seconds.

When I saw the gun in his hand, my only thought was to keep him from using it, so I slammed the door shut on his hand, with him inside the RV and me outside, and then slammed it a second (and maybe third time), shattering the rest of the glass in the door. He dropped the gun, then ran past me to get away as I recovered the weapon. My first reaction was to shoot him as he fled, but I’m not going to kill anybody for a few material possessions, and the threat to us was over.

Meanwhile, Terry was in the van and on the phone talking to the 911 operator, and I stayed outside, because I didn’t know if there was anybody else inside the RV. Terry handed the phone out the window to me because the operator wanted to talk to me, and about then I saw the same guy poking his head around the corner of the building. Not knowing if he was armed, I pointed my pistol at him and told him if he took one step toward us I was going to kill him. Fortunately for both of us, he backed off and ran away.

The police used a dog to track him from the RV around the building to where he came back, and then off to a service road, where the scent disappeared. He must have had an accomplice who fled when we pulled into the parking lot, because he appeared empty handed when he ran, but we are missing a flat screen LCD TV, netbook computer, my Seiko wristwatch, the cable for my Silverleaf engine monitor (which was plugged into the computer), a handheld GPS, and several other items.

Inside, the motorhome, there was a big pile of things in the entryway, including another handgun, our Wii, a digital SLR camera and other stuff he had ready to take when we interrupted him.

He, or they, also trashed our RV. There was broken glass everywhere, they cut a big triangle into the driver’s seat and pulled out part of the stuffing, ripped down the day/night shades in the bedroom, and threw stuff everywhere as they ransacked the place. The police dusted for fingerprints, and left a mess of stubborn black powder that was almost impossible to clean up.

But at least nobody got hurt. We were shaken, we feel totally violated, and I was pissed off, both at the thief or thieves, and at myself. If they had to steal something because they are too damned lazy to work, okay, do it. But why vandalize our home in the process?

As for myself, I have become complacent in this lifestyle, and I let my guard down. Getting ripped off is one thing; almost getting shot with my own gun is unacceptable. You can bet that the next time I leave my motorhome, I’ll have more than my empty hand to point at whomever might be waiting for me when I come back home!

With the window busted out and temperatures down in the 20s overnight, there was no way we could stay there, and we were not about to anyway, in case they came back. I called our friend Michele Henry from Phoenix Commercial Paint and explained our plight, and even though it was late at night, Michele came back to the shop and opened it up so we could pull the motorhome inside and stay out of the worst of the weather until we could start dealing with things Monday morning.

The Day After

Terry and I both want to thank all of you who posted comments on the blog, e-mailed, or called us after learning about our encounter with the burglar. Your concern and support are very much appreciated.

The next day we both felt totally wiped out, I think myself more so than Miss Terry. I have always been able to function during a crisis or emergency situation, but like this time, a day or so later it all hits me at once, leaving me feeling shaky, wrung out, and feeling like I am teetering on a ledge.

I only slept an hour or so that night, and for days after the incident, I was going over it in my head, second guessing myself, and wondering what I could have/should have done differently. Looking back, I keep thinking that the second I realized that we had been victimized, we should have backed off and avoided the potential confrontation that followed. And I keep thinking what could have happened to Terry if he had shot me and she was left alone with him. I was mentally kicking myself over and over again for putting her into that situation. That is the worst part, the what ifs.

Rationally, I know it all happened too fast for me to have had time to think it all through and consider my options, and that I reacted the way my instincts and training told me to do. And it worked out; nobody got hurt (except the intruder’s arm), and we are here to tell the story. But again, there is that nagging “what if.”

Somebody wrote to say that this could have been avoided if we had been in a campground, instead of dry camping in a parking lot. But there are no campgrounds open where we are this time of year. And while we have dry camped in everything from truck stops to rest areas, to the open desert with no problems, this was an RV repair facility’s RV parking area with hookups.

I also had several people tell me that they would have shot the burglar and worried about whatever happened later. With all due respect, that sounds a lot better in talk than in real life. Once you pull that trigger, you can’t take that bullet back. The legal and civil ramifications that will follow will cost you much more than whatever they may have stolen, not to mention the psychological aftermath.

Taking another person’s life is about the worst experience one can ever have, no matter what the circumstances. You will relive it for the rest of your life, trust me on this one. I’ve been there and still wake up too many nights in a cold sweat. Would I have shot the guy if he continued to be a threat to our lives? In a nanosecond. Would I regret it forever after? Yes, I would. I’m just very grateful it didn’t come to that.

Before all of this started with the burglary, we had planned to leave Elkhart as soon as the bus sale was wrapped up. Instead we spent several days inside a repair shop getting our motorhome put back together before we could go anywhere. The temperature plummeted into the single digits, it snowed, we found ourselves in a battle with our insurance company, and a lot more. But we’re out of space for this issue. Just know that we are safe, finally back on the road, and we hope to see you in our travels.