It was household duty day at our house. After all that fun in Hilton Head, we were in desperate need of some time to clean the place up and do some laundry. So, that's exactly what we did today. Then, because it was sunny and 75 degrees, we went straight to the beach.
Yes, it was a very good day.
As the sun sets here along the South Carolina coast, we're taking notice of the many different types of rigs that are here. There's a couple from Quebec in an old no-slide Rexall AirBus across the road. A couple of sites away there's one of those nifty Hi-Lo trailers that pops up to twice its height. There are one or two 40-foot diesel pushers in the place that we've gawked at as we've passed by. And, we just met a lovely couple from North Carolina that are traveling in a Born Free Class C. They wanted to know what we thought of our Winnebago as they are close to a deal on a Journey. We've seen several fivers come in of different shapes and sizes. And, heck, there are even a few folks here in tents. Such is life in a campground. Yep, it's a real mixed bag.
The thing about being in a campground in the middle of the week in October is that most of the people you see are fulltimers of one sort or another or extended travelers. And, we're noticing that these good folks travel in all kinds of packages. And, that reminds us that there are many ways to approach this lifestyle of ours.
When we were soaking up every piece of data we could about what it was to be a fulltimer, we found ourselves looking for "the right answers." What kind of rig should we buy? Where should we travel? What campgrounds should we go to? After all, we were the first to admit we didn't know a damn thing. So, we were eager to hear from "the experts", and that would be any and all who were down this path before us.
What we quickly discovered is that, as much as we wanted to find one right answer, there simply isn't such a thing. There are as many ways to fulltime as there are fulltimers. There are folks who sell the house and those who don't. Some get a storage place, others don't. Some buy a motorhome. Some buy a fiver. Some buy new. Some buy used. The combinations are limitless.
There are those who would like you to believe that the only way to fulltime is to sell your house and all of your belongings, buy the biggest fiver you can afford and pull it with the biggest diesel with duallies you can find, camp in COE spots with the "it factor" for a month at a time and workcamp along the way.
Dear readers, we want you to know that is just one of many ways to approach this lifestyle. It's like when you pull into Burger King and order lunch or dinner. You really can have it your way.
After all, four months ago we loaded up a 32-foot Class A gasser and called it home. And, from the very beginning, we knew we'd want a bigger one. And, in a couple of months we'll probably have it. We have a 7x7 foot cube of stuff we're paying to store every month and someday we'll probably come to conclusion we don't need any of it. But, as we said before, it was what we needed to do at the time. We have no plans to workcamp anytime soon. But, hey, we might give it a try somewhere down the road if we feel like it.
So, sports fans, that's OUR way. We don't expect or recommend that anyone else try this at home. But, hey it works for us.
There are people who would gasp that we're traveling in a short little gasser. There are others that would say we can't really call ourselves fulltimers because we have some of our stuff stored in a box somewhere. Others would say we've screwed up because we're already shopping for a new rig. To that, we give a great big "WHATEVER!"
The point of this ramble is that there is no one right (or wrong) way to approach this fulltiming gig. What is most important, above all else, is that you make it work for you.
If your life long dream is to travel the country on a bicycle with a tent on your back, for goodness sake, please proceed! Whatever your dream, the most important thing is to make it yours. And, to anyone who gasps at your choices you can join us in a great big - say it with me now - WHATEVER!
Keeping Up
We're enjoying a rare quiet morning here on beautiful Hilton Head Island. Seems we've been on the go since we arrived. And, we thought this was one of those "laid back" places!
It is for most, but not for us. The primary purpose of this stop is to visit with Paul's uncle and aunt. He's 92 and she's 88. And you know what? These folks are go, go, go! They took us on a day long "locals" tour of the island. Yes, he did all the driving! (And, he did great.) They sent us off to Savannah with instructions for how to see it all in a day. (It worked!) They treated us to a lovely dinner at a beautiful spot off the island with a cousin and her husband. (Again, he drove!) After an incredible brunch and then pizza dinner yesterday we came home in an absolute food coma.
See. It's hard keeping up with these two!
Yesterday's brunch presented a special challenge. We are in the South, after all. And, in this particular part of the South, that means ya'll dress for Sunday brunch. Ladies wear dresses, but nice slacks are fine. Gentlemen wear a jacket, of course. And, since this is a resort community no tie is required. When our gracious and very active hosts extended an invitation to brunch, our first concern was that we couldn't meet the dress code. After a quick mental scan of our collective wardrobe, we were pretty sure we could do it. After all, didn't Paul pack a sport coat? We could both visualize the same jacket stored under the sofa. So, confident that we could dress ourselves, we agreed to join them.
During a brief lull in our Saturday adventures, we took a moment to make sure we were all set to dress up on Sunday. I assembled an outfit around my one pair of nice slacks. Paul began to pull his ensemble together. We looked in the storage bin under the sofa and discovered that having a sport coat on board was a figment of our collective imagination. So, we explained the situation at dinner Saturday, and Paul's uncle graciously offered to open his closet. After all, they're family. And, they are about the same size.
Sunday morning we were up and moving early. (The cats were convinced it was a travel day!) We were comedy in motion! For two people who dressed in suits every weekday for 30 years, we have quickly become rusty at the fine art of getting up, dressed and out the door. I searched for socks that weren't white. And, Paul wrestled with his one and only button down collar. We weren't just having trouble keeping up with our relatives. Dressing up was a challenge, too.
With visions of Bloody Marys and Eggs Benedict dancing in our heads, we hopped our freshly dressed selves in the Jeep and were off to meet our hosts. Upon our arrival, the first order of business was to grab a jacket. Paul's uncle selected two for Paul to choose from. One of them was the same jacket we thought we had brought along! Same color, style, label and store. It was even the same size. We all got quite a chuckle out of that synchronistic selection. These fine gentlemen aren't just related: They have the same taste in clothes!
The conversation over brunch was the same as all the others the last few days: engaging and lots of fun. We've shared many family memories and filled in a few family history gaps for each other here and there. They are so curious about what we're up to. After all, they were always the "traveling" aunt and uncle. Today their travels are limited to on and around this lovely island. But, in their long, active lives they've covered the globe. And, they think the idea of traveling the continent with a moose and squirrel is "simply great". They've bookmarked Bullwinkle's blog and promised to follow our travels and live vicariously through them. We like that.
This lovely couple we love attribute their longevity to staying active. They gave us two simple words of advice: Keep Traveling.
We really like that!
What is "It"?
We just submitted reviews for our last five stops to rvparkreviews.com. The five completely different parks earned basically the same great rating. And, that has us thinking about the "it" factor.
The "it" factor is a designation some RVers give to a campground or park that "has it all." A place that has "it" is a place you want to return to, tell your friends and write a glowing review about. It's purely subjective, of course. And, in our case, we're noticing that "it" changes, depending on what we're in the mood for.
The "it" factor is a designation some RVers give to a campground or park that "has it all." A place that has "it" is a place you want to return to, tell your friends and write a glowing review about. It's purely subjective, of course. And, in our case, we're noticing that "it" changes, depending on what we're in the mood for.
In Monett, MO, were so pleased to find a previously unlisted park just three miles outside of town. With full hookups and smokin' hot wifi, we had everything we needed. The "it" factor for us in that place was that it was minutes away from family. Oh yeah, and we saw llamas and horses outside our window. Pretty cool.
Our original destination in Little Rock was a gravel parking lot downtown on the river in a not so hot neighborhood. Definitely no "it" factor for us. We followed the recommendation of a fellow fulltimer and made our way to Maumelle Park. The next four days we basically camped in the pouring rain. Yet, with a riverside site and peace and quiet just 20 minutes from downtown Little Rock, this place definitely had a very different "it" factor.
After our arduous travel day through ArkLaMiss, we probably would've found the "it" factor in a Walmart parking lot. Grand Gulf Military Park was so steeped in Civil War history that its battlefield, museum and historical buildings created enough "it" factor for us to make up for heat, humidity and a tornado.
After covering a few too many miles (325) on an uneventful travel day into Alabama we spent the next three days in a park that had everything we needed. Most importantly, it had strong 3G service, smoking hot wifi and a clear shot of the southern sky. We'd been technology deprived for so long that's what we wanted more than anything else. And, at South Montgomery RV Park that's exactly what they had to offer...for 20 bucks a night. Where others would see a treeless gravel lot with sparse grass next the interstate, we found our "it" factor...and a stray kitty, too!
Our park in middle Georgia had a lot to offer. This spacious, no frills kind of place gave us views of Georgia pines during the day and a star-filled sky at night. The "it" factor for us was that it was a quiet, comfortable place to kick back and relax for a few days before what would promise to be a busy week of family and exploring on the South Carolina coast.
Here in Hilton Head Island, we're in a 200-site resort on the Atlantic Intercoastal Waterway. We're on a long, wide paved lot surrounded by palm trees and lush landscaping. Rocky even has his own little driveway. It's quite homey. Some folks might find this place a bit too commercial and closed-in, but for us the "it" factor is we're on the island, just 10 minutes from the family we've come to visit and we can bike to the ocean from here. Yes, it is just a little slice of paradise.
Six parks that are distinctively different, but on a given day they've had something to offer. And, the next time we pass through these parts we might find ourselves looking for places that have a different "it" factor. As we're learning, what "it" is depends on us: It's all about what we need, want and are in the mood for at any given time in any given place. And, "it" can be different for everybody. One RVer's noisy gravel lot can be another's haven, and vice versa.
That makes reading and writing park reviews a bit of challenge. With all of us appreciating different "it" factors, there's no right answer. But, there are a lot of wonderful parks for us all to check out and explore. And, everyone's perspective can be so helpful.
If you'd like to take a peek at our reviews of the places we've stayed, check them out. And, if you're already reviewing the places you park at rvparkreviews.com, thank you so much! We find this site to be the most helpful, thanks to you. If you're not writing reviews, we ask that you please give it a try. It's an easy way to make a valuable contribution to this wonderful community. And, we'll really appreciate it!
Hope Returns
As we were preparing to leave for an afternoon of sightseeing in Montgomery, guess who showed up?
Yes, our little stray survived the cold Alabama night and came wandering back to our site. We gave her a bit of food, which she devoured, snapped a picture or two and loaded her into one of our cat crates. We put a call into the Montgomery Humane Society to confirm that they would take her. Then, we were on our way.
Hope and Paul had become buddies. There was no doubt about it - they bonded. So, when it came time to surrender the furbaby she yelped louder and he got a bit choked up. I just kept telling myself that with two adult cats in our 300 square foot home on wheels we were at our limit! We signed the necessary papers and made a small donation to the cause.
It's supposed to be another cold one tonight. We're so happy that Hope is warm, dry and cared for. Here's hoping she is adopted soon to a wonderful family that will feel lucky to have her. We'll never know, of course. But, that's the way we're choosing to write this story: with a happy ending.
Tomorrow we're heading out for somewhere in Georgia. More then!
Yes, our little stray survived the cold Alabama night and came wandering back to our site. We gave her a bit of food, which she devoured, snapped a picture or two and loaded her into one of our cat crates. We put a call into the Montgomery Humane Society to confirm that they would take her. Then, we were on our way.
Hope and Paul had become buddies. There was no doubt about it - they bonded. So, when it came time to surrender the furbaby she yelped louder and he got a bit choked up. I just kept telling myself that with two adult cats in our 300 square foot home on wheels we were at our limit! We signed the necessary papers and made a small donation to the cause.
It's supposed to be another cold one tonight. We're so happy that Hope is warm, dry and cared for. Here's hoping she is adopted soon to a wonderful family that will feel lucky to have her. We'll never know, of course. But, that's the way we're choosing to write this story: with a happy ending.
Tomorrow we're heading out for somewhere in Georgia. More then!
Hope
Before we get to far into this particular post, I feel the need to remind you: We are cat people. We travel with two of them, and love the rest. Simple as that. OK, then. Now, we can proceed.
I love the day after a travel day. We make them lazy and purposeless...quite on purpose. Today was no exception. We lounged about over a pot of coffee and surfed the internet like a couple of newbies. Yes, it had been awhile!
One of the things Paul had checked out online was geocaches in the area. He discovered two just down the road a mile or so. So, we planned a geocaching stroll after our mid-to-late-morning breakfast.
With breakfast behind us we were strolling down our country lane searching for caches in the Alabama sunshine. It was such a gorgeous day! En route to Cache #1 I thought I heard a cat. I quickly chalked it up to my imagination. Cache #1 was found, then we were down the road to Cache #2. With two successful 'Bama caches under our belts, we headed back up the road for home. As we were strolling just past the vicinity of Cache #1, I heard the sound of a cat again. This time I mentioned it to Paul. He listened for it and heard it, too. Moments later he found the source: a tiny kitten crying on the side of our dead-end country lane.
People often say they are of two minds. In this moment, I was of two hearts. One of my hearts wanted to keep a healthy distance from this helpless little creature. I barely wanted to lay eyes on it. And, nooooooo I didn't want to hold it. My other heart, of all things, named the poor little thing. Paul said she was a girl. As we stood here in Hope Hull, Alabama, in my mind I named this little kitty. Her name is Hope.
We estimated Hope was eight or ten weeks old. She was a gorgeous little gray girl who seemed pretty healthy, with a little wound on her head. Although the cold hearted side of me was never going to let her live with us, we could not leave her there on the side of the desolate road. Paul scooped her up and carried her home. My immediate thought was that our campground needed a cat. Paul's was that we would surrender her to the local humane society for adoption. We would work that out. First, we needed to get her some food.
We brought Hope home and put her in one of our cat crates under our rig. I went inside and found the Montgomery Humane Society online. Paul took a saucer of milk out to serve our guest. As he opened the crate to serve her, she darted out. She escaped to the comfort and safety of several bales of hay behind the campground office.
We've called to her there several times, but she is choosing not to answer. We're thinking she's happy and better off being here, in this campground. Like us, she may find everything she needs here. Perhaps a traveler will adopt her. Or, she may become the mascot of the place. Whatever the case, she was not of the mind to be loaded in a Jeep and sent off to the Humane Society today.
Tonight we find our thoughts wandering to Hope. We wish her a safe and warm night. If we see her in the morning, we'll take her with us into Montgomery tomorrow. And, if not, our wish is that she will be a sunny ray of hope for this little sliver of Alabama.
I love the day after a travel day. We make them lazy and purposeless...quite on purpose. Today was no exception. We lounged about over a pot of coffee and surfed the internet like a couple of newbies. Yes, it had been awhile!
One of the things Paul had checked out online was geocaches in the area. He discovered two just down the road a mile or so. So, we planned a geocaching stroll after our mid-to-late-morning breakfast.
With breakfast behind us we were strolling down our country lane searching for caches in the Alabama sunshine. It was such a gorgeous day! En route to Cache #1 I thought I heard a cat. I quickly chalked it up to my imagination. Cache #1 was found, then we were down the road to Cache #2. With two successful 'Bama caches under our belts, we headed back up the road for home. As we were strolling just past the vicinity of Cache #1, I heard the sound of a cat again. This time I mentioned it to Paul. He listened for it and heard it, too. Moments later he found the source: a tiny kitten crying on the side of our dead-end country lane.
People often say they are of two minds. In this moment, I was of two hearts. One of my hearts wanted to keep a healthy distance from this helpless little creature. I barely wanted to lay eyes on it. And, nooooooo I didn't want to hold it. My other heart, of all things, named the poor little thing. Paul said she was a girl. As we stood here in Hope Hull, Alabama, in my mind I named this little kitty. Her name is Hope.
We estimated Hope was eight or ten weeks old. She was a gorgeous little gray girl who seemed pretty healthy, with a little wound on her head. Although the cold hearted side of me was never going to let her live with us, we could not leave her there on the side of the desolate road. Paul scooped her up and carried her home. My immediate thought was that our campground needed a cat. Paul's was that we would surrender her to the local humane society for adoption. We would work that out. First, we needed to get her some food.
We brought Hope home and put her in one of our cat crates under our rig. I went inside and found the Montgomery Humane Society online. Paul took a saucer of milk out to serve our guest. As he opened the crate to serve her, she darted out. She escaped to the comfort and safety of several bales of hay behind the campground office.
We've called to her there several times, but she is choosing not to answer. We're thinking she's happy and better off being here, in this campground. Like us, she may find everything she needs here. Perhaps a traveler will adopt her. Or, she may become the mascot of the place. Whatever the case, she was not of the mind to be loaded in a Jeep and sent off to the Humane Society today.
Tonight we find our thoughts wandering to Hope. We wish her a safe and warm night. If we see her in the morning, we'll take her with us into Montgomery tomorrow. And, if not, our wish is that she will be a sunny ray of hope for this little sliver of Alabama.
Catching Up
We're sitting at a highway intersection with two bars of cell service, so we thought we'd take advantage of the situation and fire up the air card. (That's right, we bought an air card!) Slowly but surely I've successfully published posts that recap the last couple days. They were eventful!
Today has been much better. The weather has cleared and we've enjoyed a day trip around Port Gibson. The highlight was lunch at the Old Country Store, which featured the World's Best Fried Chicken, collard greens, black eyed peas and the best peach cobbler I've ever had! Chicken Master Mr. D serenaded us during lunch, and we washed it all down with some ice cold sweet tea.
Yes, were are definitely in the South.
Tomorrow we're heading toward Montgomery, Alabama. Along the way I'll do the best I can to catch things up on Bullwinkle's Travels. There are lots of fun pics stored in my camera. And, yes, we have a few stories to tell.
Meanwhile, I hope ya'll enjoy our chronicles of our days in Mississippi.
Today has been much better. The weather has cleared and we've enjoyed a day trip around Port Gibson. The highlight was lunch at the Old Country Store, which featured the World's Best Fried Chicken, collard greens, black eyed peas and the best peach cobbler I've ever had! Chicken Master Mr. D serenaded us during lunch, and we washed it all down with some ice cold sweet tea.
Yes, were are definitely in the South.
Tomorrow we're heading toward Montgomery, Alabama. Along the way I'll do the best I can to catch things up on Bullwinkle's Travels. There are lots of fun pics stored in my camera. And, yes, we have a few stories to tell.
Meanwhile, I hope ya'll enjoy our chronicles of our days in Mississippi.
Weather Warning
Determined to make it a better day, we headed for Vicksburg this morning to have a hot breakfast, take care of some business and visit the Vicksburg Battleground National Monument.
Two out of three ain’t bad.
After breakfast and business were taken care of, we soaked up all the 3G service we could. A quick check of the online radar revealed big bad storms heading our way. With our leaky slide exposed to the elements, we passed on soggy sightseeing and headed back to our rolling home to pull the thing in and prepare for the storm.
We beat the storm home and kept an eye to local TV and ear to the NOAA weather radio for updates. The storm intensified as it headed our way. When a tornado warning was issued for the parish just across the river, we took notice. Winds were reported in excess of 60 miles an hour. Healthy sized hail was part of the mix. Radar confirmed a tornado approaching the town directly across the river and toward us. When the TV weatherman named that easternmost Louisiana town in the twister’s path, he added “then it will move into remote areas of Mississippi” like it was dropping off the map or something.
Wait a minute! WE are IN this remote area of Mississippi!
I am quick to admit that my greatest fear about fulltiming is facing severe weather. We’ve hunkered down and ridden out a few storms already, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised at my sense of calm. But, I tell you, when I hear that a tornado is (or even might be) heading toward this fiberglass box on wheels, we are outta here!
Our evacuation was swift. We crated the cats, pulled in the slides, stored the TV antenna, piled the family into the Jeep and headed down the hill. A few minutes later we parked outside the campground office and the rain began to pour. We went inside, explained the reports we had heard about the weather and asked if we could hang out in the sturdy brick building for awhile. And, oh yeah, could we bring our cats in, too?
Now, I’m not wild about the South. But, I do appreciate fine southern hospitality. These good people just couldn’t have been any nicer. They invited us and our animals inside to stay as long as we wanted. They turned on the weather radio, found the radar online and offered their local interpretation of the situation. Yep. It looked bad. They affirmed our decision to seek shelter, and were surprised other campers hadn’t done the same.
We spent the next hour or so perusing the Civil War artifacts on display in the park museum, which is housed in the same sturdy building. We chatted with the campground staff about the weather and our collective life stories. We got a very informative history of the area and a fantastic agenda for a day trip tomorrow. Outside lightning flashed, thunder crashed and it continued to pour. One of our hosts kept an eye to the radar and reported with relief that the worst was passing to the south of us. With that good news, we watched for a break in the rain. When we spotted one, we loaded our brood back in the Jeep and trundled back up the hill. Heavy rains continued to fall most of the afternoon, so we kept the big leaky slide pulled in. Paul tackled the laundry, which included some of my wet stuff from the closet. I opted to chill out and catch up on our blog posts. These last couple of days are definitely ones to remember!
Like I said earlier, we were determined to make this a better day than yesterday. And, are we going to let a little severe weather ruin our day? No way! We’ve concocted plans to grill a couple of fine Kansas City strips and a nice glass (or two) of wine.
It’ll be the perfect thing for a better day.
Two out of three ain’t bad.
After breakfast and business were taken care of, we soaked up all the 3G service we could. A quick check of the online radar revealed big bad storms heading our way. With our leaky slide exposed to the elements, we passed on soggy sightseeing and headed back to our rolling home to pull the thing in and prepare for the storm.
We beat the storm home and kept an eye to local TV and ear to the NOAA weather radio for updates. The storm intensified as it headed our way. When a tornado warning was issued for the parish just across the river, we took notice. Winds were reported in excess of 60 miles an hour. Healthy sized hail was part of the mix. Radar confirmed a tornado approaching the town directly across the river and toward us. When the TV weatherman named that easternmost Louisiana town in the twister’s path, he added “then it will move into remote areas of Mississippi” like it was dropping off the map or something.
Wait a minute! WE are IN this remote area of Mississippi!
I am quick to admit that my greatest fear about fulltiming is facing severe weather. We’ve hunkered down and ridden out a few storms already, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised at my sense of calm. But, I tell you, when I hear that a tornado is (or even might be) heading toward this fiberglass box on wheels, we are outta here!
Our evacuation was swift. We crated the cats, pulled in the slides, stored the TV antenna, piled the family into the Jeep and headed down the hill. A few minutes later we parked outside the campground office and the rain began to pour. We went inside, explained the reports we had heard about the weather and asked if we could hang out in the sturdy brick building for awhile. And, oh yeah, could we bring our cats in, too?
Now, I’m not wild about the South. But, I do appreciate fine southern hospitality. These good people just couldn’t have been any nicer. They invited us and our animals inside to stay as long as we wanted. They turned on the weather radio, found the radar online and offered their local interpretation of the situation. Yep. It looked bad. They affirmed our decision to seek shelter, and were surprised other campers hadn’t done the same.
We spent the next hour or so perusing the Civil War artifacts on display in the park museum, which is housed in the same sturdy building. We chatted with the campground staff about the weather and our collective life stories. We got a very informative history of the area and a fantastic agenda for a day trip tomorrow. Outside lightning flashed, thunder crashed and it continued to pour. One of our hosts kept an eye to the radar and reported with relief that the worst was passing to the south of us. With that good news, we watched for a break in the rain. When we spotted one, we loaded our brood back in the Jeep and trundled back up the hill. Heavy rains continued to fall most of the afternoon, so we kept the big leaky slide pulled in. Paul tackled the laundry, which included some of my wet stuff from the closet. I opted to chill out and catch up on our blog posts. These last couple of days are definitely ones to remember!
Like I said earlier, we were determined to make this a better day than yesterday. And, are we going to let a little severe weather ruin our day? No way! We’ve concocted plans to grill a couple of fine Kansas City strips and a nice glass (or two) of wine.
It’ll be the perfect thing for a better day.
Not Our Best Day
Our 100th day as fulltimers just wasn’t our best.
In the same spirit of full disclosure that we chronicled the ups and downs of our preparations for fulltiming, we feel compelled to share the story of this day that tested our mettle as fulltimers.
We awoke to complete silence for the first time in a long time. The rain that plagued Arkansas had come to an end. What a great day to travel! We were up and out early, hitting the road at 9:00 a.m. sharp. Just as we leaving we noticed the fabric valance over our dinette was wet. We chalked it up to several consecutive days of heavy rain and went on our way. (Stay tuned, dear readers, for the rest of this story.)
The first half of our 260-mile travel day was perfect. Then, we hit Louisiana.
We had prepared two possible routes for today. The first was the most direct, but included a 60 or so mile stretch of two-lane highway in Louisiana. The second route added some 30 miles, was all four-lane and bypassed the the Pelican State. When we reached the fork in the road, things were looking good, so we opted for the most direct route. Some 20 miles after passing the point of no return, we crossed into Louisiana. Immediately, the road went to shit. Shoulders disappeared. Potholes multiplied before us like rabbits. Flood waters lapped at the shoulderless roadway. Oh yeah, and it got balmy. We slowed our speed down to something that minimized the teeth shattering and made it easier to keep it between the lines and out of the flood waters. After 90 minutes of bouncing along, we finally reached I-20. And, yes, it got worse.
When we crossed the roaring Mississippi River at historic Vicksburg, we were delighted that our pass off of this poor excuse for an interstate was Exit #2. From there we glided south to just north of Port Gibson, where we took a seven-mile turnoff down a narrow two-lane, low hanging tree branch lined road to our lovely campground located just one half-mile from the mighty river. When we stepped out of the coach we were instantly soaked by the 99.99% humidity combined with the 80 degree temps. This was “balmy” on steroids!
After a warm but muggy welcome from the campground staff, we commenced with the task of unhooking the Jeep and selecting our campsite. We were advised that if we wanted to have any chance at cell service, we should setup in the “upper” campground. Eager to put our shiny new aircard to work in this wifi-less park, we decided to take the high road. Paul set about separating the squirrel from the moose and quickly discovered the locking bolts on the tow bar wouldn’t budge. This five-minute procedure became a frustrating half hour. With brute force he got them unlocked, then eventually freed. Imagine wrestling with a tow bar in a sauna after a long, bouncy travel day! Our energy and moods were plummeting.
We climbed the steep road to the upper campground to choose our site. With no cable at this place, our goal was to select the most satellite-friendly site in this tree-lined loop. We picked one, backed through mud to get situated on the pad, plugged in and couldn’t find a satellite. So, we unplugged and pulled into our second choice. We couldn’t find a satellite here, either. But, by now we were soaked with sweat and AC was becoming a higher priority than TV. So, we commenced with our setup.
With our setup complete, we turned our attention back to the wet valance we had noticed this morning. A few rainy stops ago, we noticed a small trickle of water above one of our bedroom windows. But, the source of this new leak had us stumped. An initial check in the cabinet above the window revealed no water. I started taking dishes out of the cabinet and was surprised to find one dish filled with water! The leak appeared to come from part of the mechanism in the Big Ass Slide. With two parts like this on the slide, we made a beeline to the offending part’s twin inside the bedroom closet and discovered a spot where water had obviously poured down the back wall...and been absorbed by my clothes. Within minutes we had dishes piled on the table and my clothes spread out in the bathroom. Minor annoyances had been piling up all day, but this one nearly sent me over the edge.
With the dishes dry and put away, damp clothes hanging in the shower, and a big cocktail in hand, we settled in to relax, unwind and connect with the outside world. With one teeny-tiny bar on our iphones, we had a few successful attempts at sending arrival emails and posts, but quickly came to the realization that we have no dependable cell service here.
Welcome to Mississippi!
Exhausted, grumpy and regretting that I had ever chosen this remote rainforest campground in this godforsaken part of the world, I hopped in the shower right after dinner, put on my jammies and readied myself for a much needed night’s rest. I successfully logged on to Facebook, checked in on a few of our fulltiming buddies and got a powerful lesson in perspective. I read of the ordeal Pam and Randy Warner have had over the last 24 hours. After an engine breakdown yesterday, they spent last night in a Walmart parking lot and had their motorhome towed off today for diagnosis and repair. Sitting here in the comfort of our slightly leaky rolling home, having safely arrived after a tiring travel day, I realized we really don’t have any problems. All we had was one bad day. And, all things considered, I guess it was really that bad.
One bad day out of 100. I think I can handle that. After all, it’s just one percent. And, as the saying goes, even a bad day of fulltiming is better than a day of work.
Amen to that!
In the same spirit of full disclosure that we chronicled the ups and downs of our preparations for fulltiming, we feel compelled to share the story of this day that tested our mettle as fulltimers.
We awoke to complete silence for the first time in a long time. The rain that plagued Arkansas had come to an end. What a great day to travel! We were up and out early, hitting the road at 9:00 a.m. sharp. Just as we leaving we noticed the fabric valance over our dinette was wet. We chalked it up to several consecutive days of heavy rain and went on our way. (Stay tuned, dear readers, for the rest of this story.)
The first half of our 260-mile travel day was perfect. Then, we hit Louisiana.
We had prepared two possible routes for today. The first was the most direct, but included a 60 or so mile stretch of two-lane highway in Louisiana. The second route added some 30 miles, was all four-lane and bypassed the the Pelican State. When we reached the fork in the road, things were looking good, so we opted for the most direct route. Some 20 miles after passing the point of no return, we crossed into Louisiana. Immediately, the road went to shit. Shoulders disappeared. Potholes multiplied before us like rabbits. Flood waters lapped at the shoulderless roadway. Oh yeah, and it got balmy. We slowed our speed down to something that minimized the teeth shattering and made it easier to keep it between the lines and out of the flood waters. After 90 minutes of bouncing along, we finally reached I-20. And, yes, it got worse.
When we crossed the roaring Mississippi River at historic Vicksburg, we were delighted that our pass off of this poor excuse for an interstate was Exit #2. From there we glided south to just north of Port Gibson, where we took a seven-mile turnoff down a narrow two-lane, low hanging tree branch lined road to our lovely campground located just one half-mile from the mighty river. When we stepped out of the coach we were instantly soaked by the 99.99% humidity combined with the 80 degree temps. This was “balmy” on steroids!
After a warm but muggy welcome from the campground staff, we commenced with the task of unhooking the Jeep and selecting our campsite. We were advised that if we wanted to have any chance at cell service, we should setup in the “upper” campground. Eager to put our shiny new aircard to work in this wifi-less park, we decided to take the high road. Paul set about separating the squirrel from the moose and quickly discovered the locking bolts on the tow bar wouldn’t budge. This five-minute procedure became a frustrating half hour. With brute force he got them unlocked, then eventually freed. Imagine wrestling with a tow bar in a sauna after a long, bouncy travel day! Our energy and moods were plummeting.
We climbed the steep road to the upper campground to choose our site. With no cable at this place, our goal was to select the most satellite-friendly site in this tree-lined loop. We picked one, backed through mud to get situated on the pad, plugged in and couldn’t find a satellite. So, we unplugged and pulled into our second choice. We couldn’t find a satellite here, either. But, by now we were soaked with sweat and AC was becoming a higher priority than TV. So, we commenced with our setup.
With our setup complete, we turned our attention back to the wet valance we had noticed this morning. A few rainy stops ago, we noticed a small trickle of water above one of our bedroom windows. But, the source of this new leak had us stumped. An initial check in the cabinet above the window revealed no water. I started taking dishes out of the cabinet and was surprised to find one dish filled with water! The leak appeared to come from part of the mechanism in the Big Ass Slide. With two parts like this on the slide, we made a beeline to the offending part’s twin inside the bedroom closet and discovered a spot where water had obviously poured down the back wall...and been absorbed by my clothes. Within minutes we had dishes piled on the table and my clothes spread out in the bathroom. Minor annoyances had been piling up all day, but this one nearly sent me over the edge.
With the dishes dry and put away, damp clothes hanging in the shower, and a big cocktail in hand, we settled in to relax, unwind and connect with the outside world. With one teeny-tiny bar on our iphones, we had a few successful attempts at sending arrival emails and posts, but quickly came to the realization that we have no dependable cell service here.
Welcome to Mississippi!
Exhausted, grumpy and regretting that I had ever chosen this remote rainforest campground in this godforsaken part of the world, I hopped in the shower right after dinner, put on my jammies and readied myself for a much needed night’s rest. I successfully logged on to Facebook, checked in on a few of our fulltiming buddies and got a powerful lesson in perspective. I read of the ordeal Pam and Randy Warner have had over the last 24 hours. After an engine breakdown yesterday, they spent last night in a Walmart parking lot and had their motorhome towed off today for diagnosis and repair. Sitting here in the comfort of our slightly leaky rolling home, having safely arrived after a tiring travel day, I realized we really don’t have any problems. All we had was one bad day. And, all things considered, I guess it was really that bad.
One bad day out of 100. I think I can handle that. After all, it’s just one percent. And, as the saying goes, even a bad day of fulltiming is better than a day of work.
Amen to that!
Another Rain Delay
What is it with us and the rain? We’re beginning to consider a new career as rainmakers. (And, we mean that literally!) Everywhere we’ve traveled we’ve brought rain along with us. And, Little Rock is no exception. It’s rained most of the time we’ve been here.
With plans to be up and on the road early, we awoke to a Dense Fog Advisory and a forecast for heavy rains across the state. Over early morning coffee we gathered weather info, perused maps and wrestled with the decision of what to do. As much as we both really want to get moving out of this wet stuff, these are far from perfect travel conditions. Besides, there’s nowhere to escape. It looks like it’s raining practically everywhere! Truth is, we can’t get in trouble if we’re just sitting. So, we decided to just sit for another night. We’ll look for ways to make another rainy day fun.
That’s one of the great things about this lifestyle: The freedom to stay put for another night, even when you don’t really want to.
With plans to be up and on the road early, we awoke to a Dense Fog Advisory and a forecast for heavy rains across the state. Over early morning coffee we gathered weather info, perused maps and wrestled with the decision of what to do. As much as we both really want to get moving out of this wet stuff, these are far from perfect travel conditions. Besides, there’s nowhere to escape. It looks like it’s raining practically everywhere! Truth is, we can’t get in trouble if we’re just sitting. So, we decided to just sit for another night. We’ll look for ways to make another rainy day fun.
That’s one of the great things about this lifestyle: The freedom to stay put for another night, even when you don’t really want to.
Shopping for Spirits
One of the interesting challenges we’ve encountered on the road is restocking our liquor cabinet. We haven’t had to do it all that often! But, here in Arkansas we’re reminded we’re not in California anymore.
In California, buying booze is a no-brainer. There you can walk into any grocery store and choose from a wide variety of domestic and imported wines or spirits. You can pick up your favorite beer, too. Prices vary from place to place in California, but with a plethora of vintages produced within the state, the marketplace for adult beverages is pretty competitive.
Here in Arkansas, you can buy wine in the grocery store, but only if it is produced by a small winery in Arkansas. Needless to say, the pickin’s are slim. So, if you would like an out-of-state wine or any spirits, you’ll have to locate a liquor store and make you purchase there. But, never on Sunday. You can treat yourself to a scotch and water at a restaurant and then drive home any day of the week. But, you can’t buy a bottle of scotch to enjoy a cocktail in the comfort and safety of home on a Sunday.
Go figure.
Another element of the challenge for us fulltimers is choosing the state to make your liquor purchases. Prices can jump or fall as you cross a border. And, when you do, you face a new set of rules.
Today we stocked up on the spirits we’d hoped to buy yesterday. While we were making our purchase, we learned more about the quirks of liquor laws in the razorback state. The clerk asked us how long we would be in town and where we were headed next. When we told him we were heading out to Mississippi in the morning, he encouraged us to stock up.
He said it’s crazy down there!
In California, buying booze is a no-brainer. There you can walk into any grocery store and choose from a wide variety of domestic and imported wines or spirits. You can pick up your favorite beer, too. Prices vary from place to place in California, but with a plethora of vintages produced within the state, the marketplace for adult beverages is pretty competitive.
Here in Arkansas, you can buy wine in the grocery store, but only if it is produced by a small winery in Arkansas. Needless to say, the pickin’s are slim. So, if you would like an out-of-state wine or any spirits, you’ll have to locate a liquor store and make you purchase there. But, never on Sunday. You can treat yourself to a scotch and water at a restaurant and then drive home any day of the week. But, you can’t buy a bottle of scotch to enjoy a cocktail in the comfort and safety of home on a Sunday.
Go figure.
Another element of the challenge for us fulltimers is choosing the state to make your liquor purchases. Prices can jump or fall as you cross a border. And, when you do, you face a new set of rules.
Today we stocked up on the spirits we’d hoped to buy yesterday. While we were making our purchase, we learned more about the quirks of liquor laws in the razorback state. The clerk asked us how long we would be in town and where we were headed next. When we told him we were heading out to Mississippi in the morning, he encouraged us to stock up.
He said it’s crazy down there!
Paper Texans
Our drive from Monett to Little Rock was a bit longer than we like, at about 280 miles, but it treated us to something we’ve seen precious little of: Sunshine! By afternoon, the sky was cloudy once again, and rain was in the Little Rock forecast. Oh boy! The rain seems to be following us everywhere.
When we pulled into Maumelle Park, a Corps of Engineers facility in northwest Little Rock, we were greeted by two cheery park attendants who were eager to check us in. One of the first questions we were asked was our address, city and state first. When we replied Livingston, Texas, she asked another question.
“Are you real Texans or paper Texans,” she inquired with a smile.
“Paper Texans,” we replied in perfect sync.
“So, where on Rainbow Drive do you live?” was her next question. We gave her the remaining details, then her cohort added: “There are a lot of people who live on there on Rainbow Drive.”
“Yep,” said Paul. “It’s a really crowded place.”
The rest of our conversation centered around fulltiming, and our newness at the lifestyle. They gave us some welcome encouragement and sent us off to our lovely riverfront site.
As we settle in for the next few days, we’re embracing our new moniker. We’re not just fulltimers. Now we know we’re also paper Texans!
Wonder how long it’ll take for us to acquire our paper Texas accents?
When we pulled into Maumelle Park, a Corps of Engineers facility in northwest Little Rock, we were greeted by two cheery park attendants who were eager to check us in. One of the first questions we were asked was our address, city and state first. When we replied Livingston, Texas, she asked another question.
“Are you real Texans or paper Texans,” she inquired with a smile.
“Paper Texans,” we replied in perfect sync.
“So, where on Rainbow Drive do you live?” was her next question. We gave her the remaining details, then her cohort added: “There are a lot of people who live on there on Rainbow Drive.”
“Yep,” said Paul. “It’s a really crowded place.”
The rest of our conversation centered around fulltiming, and our newness at the lifestyle. They gave us some welcome encouragement and sent us off to our lovely riverfront site.
As we settle in for the next few days, we’re embracing our new moniker. We’re not just fulltimers. Now we know we’re also paper Texans!
Wonder how long it’ll take for us to acquire our paper Texas accents?
Hunkered Down
This is one of those days they don't tell you about in fulltiming school.
If you look at a radar map of the Great State of Missouri today it's covered in shades of green, yellow and orange. Here in the southwest corner, we're under a Flash Flood Warning, which makes sense because it's been raining non-stop for the last 22 hours. It's supposed to keep raining for the next 22, too. And, we're not talking wimpy sprinkles here. No, this if full-out drenching rain. Yep, it has poured all day.
Thankfully, this is one of the things we practiced while we were still weekending. Last Halloween weekend we packed the cats, dvds, books and chili fixin's and spent a rainy weekend in the moose. And, in February, we spent another rainy weekend in a campground that turned our site into a small lake. That was all great fun, of course. But, we're here to tell you, that was wimpy Northern California rain! Here in the Ozarks, we're talking about rain that gives you something to talk about.
We haven't left the cozy confines of our rolling home today. Well, unless you count Paul flying out the door in the rain this morning to check on our slide topper.
Paul was preparing breakfast and the cats and I were (what else?) watching it rain. In the blink of an eye, the wind kicked up. Suddenly, autumn leaves were falling to the ground...with branches attached. As the wind howled from Bullwinkle's stern, it whipped the canvas topper on our full wall slide into a frenzy. I started to ask Paul when it would be time to pull the thing in. I got as far as the word "time" in that last sentence and he yelled, "NOW!"
In what Paul estimates were 50 mph gale forces blowing, we set into motion in a routine that would have made the Keystone Cops look like mere amateurs. We cleared throw rugs and a chair out of the way of the "big ass slide", as it is affectionately known. Paul fired up the moose, I headed for the slide control panel and the wise kitties in our house headed for cover. The slide came in with the ease, but the topper was still whipping in the wet gale force wind. Something was wrong.
Like a brave knight off to battle, Paul charged out the door into the severe storm. Just as he made his way around to the street side of our coach, I heard a loud POP. Only one of two things could have happened. Either the spring tension rod had finally managed to pull in the soggy topper, or the topper was gone. In weather like this, either was possible.
I said a quick prayer that it was the former and not the latter. Then I watched from the bedroom window as my knight stood in the pouring rain and blowing wind to quickly survey the situation. As quickly as he left he dashed back into the coach. He was absolutely soaked. But, he was happy to report, the slide topper looked fine. Amen to that!
After breakfast the rain continued, but the winds subsided. We fired up the moose again and Paul headed outside to watch as I extended the "BAS" once more. Thankfully, everything worked as designed and the slide topper appeared to still be in one piece.
With the morning excitement behind us, we went about the business of hunkering down on a super soggy day. We worked on the computer, made a phone call or two, read a bit and napped. It was all very relaxing.
Like I said, the wet stuff is supposed to keep falling until sometime tomorrow. Then, guess where it's headed? Where we're headed! Tomorrow all of these storms are supposed to blanket the Great State of Arkansas. So, we've decided to delay our departure until sometime Saturday. We don't need to be driving in this stuff.
Plus, we could really use a little time to dry out!
First Quarter Report
We hit the road three months ago today. As we look back on our first quarter of fulltiming, in many ways we can't believe it's been three months already. But, when reflect on all of the places we've been, things we've seen and people we've met, we can't believe it's only been three months. That's the kind of relationship we have with the calendar these days!
With hopes of providing some helpful insight to future and fellow newbie fulltimers, we offer a brief report on our first quarter on the road. Knowing also that there are many folks who pass by these parts who have been at this lots longer than we have, we welcome their comments, too. If it looks like we're heading toward a ditch with any of this stuff, please let us know!
Executive Summary
- It's all good!
The Places We've Been
- Nine states in three months, and we don't feel like we're rushing.
- Nine lovely quilt shops.
- Four National Parks!
- Speaking of National Parks, Crater Lake is, without a doubt, stunning.
- The rest of the West Coast...it's prettier in Oregon and Washington.
- Ferrying off to Canada was a very fun day.
- It's really something to stand where Custer last stood.
The Things We've Seen
- Sunset on the Pacific.
- Sunset over Canada.
- A gorgeous big Montana sky.
- A black bear popping his head out of roadside bushes to say hello.
- Endless miles and miles of highway across Wyoming.
- A 40-foot motorhome towing a 40-foot boat.
- At least one geocache in every state we've visited.
The People We've Met
- We haven't met any bad people, that's for sure!
- RVers tend to be a friendly, helpful and fun bunch!
- And, they have really fun friends!
- People who seem nice online are even nicer in person!
- You just gotta hang with da Godfadda!
The Things We've Learned
- Two back-to-back one nighters is our limit.
- One month in one place is our limit on the other end. (And we have six weeks booked in Kansas City....when it's cold!)
- 250 miles is a perfect travel day. 200 is better.
- Some of the best places to park are public - not private - campgrounds.
- We can live simply - and quite happily - on what we use to spend on our mortgage.
- Everything takes longer than you think.
- So, never, ever be in a hurry.
- If you're ever in a pickle, just stop, get out and look around.
- Stuff is just stuff.
- Cats, or at least our cats, can adapt to this lifestyle quite well.
- Our mistakes have been our best teacher.
- It feels great, and we mean great, to slow down and relax.
Looking Forward
- We can't wait to see Hilton Head and the Great Smokey Mountains, which are coming up on our agenda.
- Spending the holidays with family and friends in Kansas City, while we keep our fingers crossed that the temperatures are reasonable.
- Becoming winter Texans.
- Hanging with da Godfadda in Idaho, family in South Dakota and attending our first Grand National Rally next summer.
- We know we'll stop this one day, but we can't imagine when that might be!
The smartest thing we've done so far on this journey is make (and keep) our pact to not make any big decisions about life on the road for the first six months. Sure, it's tempting to think about buying a new diesel pusher (especially when you're climbing to 7,000 feet in Wyoming), but we think we're smart to wait. And, after working for 30 years, it's not hard to resist jumping right back in. But, we do think about what work will look like next. What a treat to give that six months to stew. Who knows what we'll come up with. People have asked how long we'll be at this, and our response has been "until we don't want to do it anymore." What we know for sure is we don't have to think about any of this for the next three months, at least. Right now, we're just going with the flow.
Here's to another great three months. Thanks so much for joining us on the ride.
DirecTV
This morning I needed a needle and thread. That simple need launched an all-out assault on the very spacious but very difficult to get into storage area under our u-shaped dinette. I had bench cushions and other stuff spread all over the place! An hour or so later, I had my sewing box in hand and the storage area was completely reorganized. My sewing box, by the way, has found a more readily accessible home.
Yes, we've lived here almost three months (already!) and we are still settling in.
One of the ongoing sagas in our settling in process has been transitioning our DirecTV subscription from a fixed to mobile account. How something we thought could be handled in one short phone call turned into a 90-day affair is mind boggling. We've talked to a dozen or so DirecTV representatives in the last three months. Together they have been the source of much misinformation and frustration. Except one.
Our arrival at Worlds of Fun last Thursday afternoon gave us a clear shot of the southern sky for the first time in a month. So, it was time to confirm that DirecTV had activated our Distant Network Services (DNS). We pushed a button, found a satellite and quickly discovered that we had no DNS. Yet another call to DirecTV was required! I picked up the phone and began the all-too-familiar journey through DirecTV's audio response unit. Finally I reached a human being. His name was Doug.
I explained to Doug the reason for my call. Now, DNS is something that DirecTV has a history of being somewhat stingy with. I guess they want to make sure you have a valid reason for not having any local channels. So, for the dozenth time I began to explain how we don't have a house and we're traveling the country fulltime in our RV. Usually, this is the point where I lose my friendly DirecTV representative. But, Doug was different.
"I understand," he said. "My parents do that."
Those simple words brought immediate comfort. Someone at DirecTV actually understands what we're doing! This son of a couple of fulltimers stepped carefully through a process that brought the major network feeds from New York and Los Angeles to our screen. He looked through our account and took care of a couple of other odds and ends. Along the way, we discussed everything from motorhomes to RV parks to mail forwarding services. Finally, he put everything in place for us to take care of the very last little bit of business we need to tend to when we return to Kansas City. At last, all is well between us and DirecTV.
If you find yourself having to call DirecTV, we have a piece of advice. Ask for Doug!
Windy Day
Growing up in Kansas City, we've experienced wind. Lots of it. So much, in fact, that the only time we're concerned about it is when it accompanies dark clouds, thunder and lightning, and tornado sirens.
After sitting in our hometown an extra night to rest up and avoid storms along our route, we were ready to go today. The sun was shining in a beautifully clear October sky. It looked like a great day to travel. I checked the Weather Channel on my phone and noticed the "severe weather" icon was illuminated. With a quick click I discovered the National Weather Service had issued a Wind Advisory for the day. The statement warned of westerly wind gusts of up to 45 mph, and advised travelers on north-south routes to take extra precautions, like not driving. With our straight shot to the south in mind, I checked the forecast of towns along our route. There was wind in their forecasts, too, but nothing severe. So, we opted to get our rolling billboard on the road and out of the wind advisory area as soon as possible.
Paul took the wheel of the moose prepared to fight the wind. And fight he did! Like most of the other high profile vehicles on the road, he kept our speed down and we took our time. As a result, Paul skillfully kept us between the lines. He assured me it was not as bad as it seemed. All I can say is, I'm glad he was driving! If I had been behind the wheel we'd still be in Kansas City.
Our 200-mile drive took about an hour longer than we anticipated. The gale force winds were at our back for the last 30 miles or so. We joked that we could have just turned off the engine and sailed to our destination. As we settled in to our campground, we gave thanks for our safe arrival and are considering a new addition to our travel commandments:
Thou shalt not travel during a Wind Advisory.
Worlds of Fun
With our month in Kansas City behind us, we weren't really sure how our day would shape up.
We had a 9:00 a.m. date with Midway Ford Truck Center on the Missouri side of the state line for an oil change and front end alignment. Ford recommends that owners of their F53 chassis (that's us) have the front end aligned once a new motorhome is fully loaded. We'd yet to make that happen, and we've noticed Bullwinkle pulling to the right a bit, so this was a must-do for us before we head out.
Our early morning date meant that we were up and moving before dawn. I was worn out from yesterday's field trip with 60-some third graders. Plus, Mother Nature sent several waves of wind, rain, thunder and lightning our way overnight. There's nothing like waking up tired on a travel day!
The rain let up just in time for us to make the morning rush hour trek through downtown Kansas City. I led the way in the squirrel and Paul followed in the moose. The traffic gods were with us, too, making the 19-mile trip quick and hassle free. The folks at Midway Ford welcomed us and said they'd need the morning to get the work done. So, we loaded ourselves and the cats in the Jeep and kept ourselves entertained.
The first item on our time-filling agenda was to check out an RV park just around the corner. Worlds of Fun Village is a cabin, cottage and RV resort that's adjacent to a 235-acre amusement and water park. Worlds of Fun opened when we were both in high school, and it's been nearly 30 years since we've visited the place. There are more towering coasters and rides than we remember. The RV park, which opened 2005, is lovely.
With plans to stay in southwest Missouri for a week starting tomorrow, we needed a place to stay tonight. Unsure of how long our service work would take, we drew up three scenarios: drive the 200 miles and arrive in our park down south a day early; find a spot half way for the night; or spend the night at Worlds of Fun, if we liked it. The afternoon forecast called for high winds and isolated thunderstorms: Not exactly the kind of weather a couple of tired travelers should tackle. So, we quickly opted for scenario #3. As we approached the registration office we had our fingers crossed. You see, this is NASCAR weekend in Kansas City. We weren't sure if there was a site to be had on the eve of the big races. Lady Luck was with us once more, and there was room for us in the village. Yeah!
By midday we were back at Midway to retrieve our rolling home. We were very pleased with the service we received. And, although the drive to our spot for the night was a short one, Paul found the handling of the moose noticeably improved. We feel great about finding some helpful service folks in this part of the world. We'll definitely be back.
Within minutes from our departure at Midway, we were settled in at Worlds of Fun. We're getting the rest we need and the cats are happy to be out of the Jeep and back home. The sky is dark this afternoon, we've seen a bit more rain and the wind is rocking us some. I just checked the radar and saw a line of thunderstorms passing south of here, right along the highway we'd be traveling on right about now.
Turns out our choice was a good one. Instead of fighting wind and rain on the road, we're happily having worlds of fun!
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