Distressing Defensive Driving Day - Thursday, August 15, 2019

When I planned this trip in March, I researched Volksmarches, activities, museums, capitals, and other points of interest. We decided that rather than move the RV every 1-2 days, we would set up "base camps" for a week and foray out (up to 1-1/2 hours away) to our bucket list items, take care of that part of our vacation, and move on to the next base camp.

The first reality check came when I tried to make reservations in February for June, July, and August in New York and New England. It was too late to get one week in most campgrounds, the weekends were booked. This led to splitting a one-week reservation in one campground, to making two reservations--3 nights in one campground, and 4 nights in another--in the same area.

Being unfamiliar with routes, grades, low underpasses, traffic, the narrowness of streets through old towns, etc., I did the best I could with our route. We use the Rand McNally Trucker's Atlas, 2019 version, and look at routes on Google Earth Street View if we're really unsure. We even drove one highway in advance to see if we should take it. None of that prepared us for today's journey from Lincoln, New Hampshire, to Rutland, Vermont.

Mt. Liberty, Mt. Flume, and Mt. Osseo (far right)
at Franconia Notch State Park, Lincoln, NH.

All was well at the beginning of the day. We decided not to take the route we had driven two days earlier, which was SR 112 from Lincoln, NH to Bath, NH. The road was narrow, curvy, had a 12% uphill climb and a 9% downhill. 

Instead, we headed up I-93 to Littleton, NH, and took U.S. 302 west toward Bath. I-91 was the route we took south. That in itself was very mountainous. 

I was driving and saw the exit for I-89 north, but didn't realize that was the highway we needed to take to get to U.S. 4 west to Rutland. I was distracted by traffic merging onto the interstate. 

We stopped at the Rest Area just south of I-89. Bob drove after our stop and I looked more closely at the map. I'm glad I did because I realized we were going the wrong way. With all the mountains and small roads, it would be a very long trip to go any other way than I-89 to U.S. 4 west. Bob turned us around at Hartland, VT, and shortly we were back to take I-89 north. Our exit for U.S. 4 west came up quickly and we exited.

This is where things started to get exciting. U.S. 4 is a mostly narrow, two-lane highway (one lane in each direction). It is the truck route through this area. That was both good and bad today. 

The speed limit on the highway varied from 25 (school zone) to 50. Bob was going the speed limit most of the time (except the really steep climb up toward Killington Ski Resort). 

Right from the start, a line of cars started to form behind us. Bob pulled over a couple of times when there was a big turn-out and it was safe to do so. We made it past the congested Quechee Gorge tourist area with no pedestrians darting across the road in front of us. 

Then we got to the mountains and things got interesting. Bob pulled over at a ski lift area to let more cars go by. 

At one point, there was a blind curve ahead of us where the oncoming traffic was on a downhill run. We were coming up on the curve when a semi-truck coming down and around the corner drifted two feet too wide into our lane. There was nowhere for us to go. We had a guard rail on the passenger side about one foot away. Bob and I were freaking out. Thank goodness, the driver of the semi got his truck under control just as he reached us. That was such a close call. 

Here's what else stressed us out:

1. Construction zone with flagger and only one lane. This was the most minor stressor of the day.
2. A pick-up truck coming toward us flashed his headlights at us. We were cautious and wondered what lay ahead. As we rounded a blind corner in a small town, there was a car stopped in the oncoming lane and a police cruiser with lights flashing behind them in that lane. We were just figuring out that the car and policeman were blocking the lane when the car behind the policeman decided to go around them and was coming at us head-on in our lane. Thankfully, we were going slower than the speed limit, because of the warning from the pick-up, and were able to slow down more so we wouldn't hit the oncoming red sedan.
3. A wide load accompanied by a pilot car and two police cars was coming toward us. It was a straight stretch of road and we pulled over on the one foot of shoulder on our side and the wide load was able to do the same on the other side. We stopped and made the cars behind us stop too.
4. Cars were turning left from the one highway lane headed west because there were very few left-hand-turn lanes. Some did not signal their intent very far in advance.
5. Woodstock/South Woodstock, Vermont. A very charming New England town with NARROW streets, lots of summer tourist traffic, and traffic jams. Bob narrowly missed hitting one of the lime green "Stop for Pedestrians in Crosswalk" signs in the middle of the street with his rear-view mirror.
6. By this time, Bob was asking rhetorically, "What else can this drive throw at me?" As soon as he said it, about six people came out from behind a tanker truck to cross at the crosswalk in front of us. One was in a wheelchair. Luckily, we saw them in plenty of time and slowed to a stop.
7. When we got to Rutland, we found out the Vermont State Fair is going on and the main street was jammed with traffic trying to get to the fair parking. Sheesh.

We finally made it to our destination, set up camp, and then fell asleep in our recliners. It was supposed to be about a 2 hour and 45-minute trip. It took us 4-1/2 hours. 

In the next four days, we have to make the reverse trip on U.S. 4 to I-89 two more times with the pick-up truck, and then we have to traverse it again with the 5th wheel to head to Maine on Monday. Wish us luck.

I was too preoccupied to take photos today.

On the plus side, Iroquois Family Land Camping in Rutland is a very peaceful, bucolic campground. It will be our respite from U.S. 4! Have a great weekend everyone.

Life Continues On -- Wed., June 27

Cotulla, Texas:

Amazing what a day off can do for your psyche. We're all entitled to bad days...you just gotta pick yourself up, dust yourself off and continue on.

 

For the record, I'm no stranger to hard work. When I was 14, living in Oregon, our family didn't have much money so we kids had to go out and earn money for our clothes and school supplies. 

Summer in the Willamette Valley in Oregon means picking time: We started with strawberries in June, then progressed to blackberries, marionberries, blackcaps (which were used to make dye for USDA stamps for grade of meat), and string beans. We were up at the crack of dawn to catch the school bus that picked up all the local children and which a short time later deposited us at whatever field we would be working in that day. (Not many migrant farm workers in those days. Local children made up the work force and there were no child labor laws that we were aware of. Kids of all ages and some adults worked the fields.)

To me, strawberry picking was the worst. I'm tall. By the age of 14, I was about 5'6". Strawberry plants are on the ground. Picking them meant bending over from the waist, stooping, or crawling on hands on knees...many times in the mud and slugs...it is Oregon, after all. We worked in all weather (except heavy rain). Light rain was good because it kept the bugs--flies, mosquitoes, bees, wasps, hornets, but not the slugs--at bay and provided shade and a little coolness. However, heavy rainstorms usually meant running for the nearby orchard or a bus to stay dry. By the time we reached cover, however, we were soaking wet. If the rain continued, they took us home. If the sun came out, we went back to picking in our steam-sauna-like, miserable wet clothes.

Marionberries (a cross between a blackberry and boysenberry), raspberries and thornless blackberries were the best picking. Mornings were crisp in the shade of the berry plants,  cool dew moistened our long-sleeved white cotton shirts. Drawbacks were the thorns, but there was a quick learning curve on how to avoid the sharp, painful scratches. Oh, and from time to time there would be a three-foot-tall thistle plant to work around. Yee-ouch! We picked standing up, a bucket attached to our belt or waistband, and moved down the rows between the plants. When our bucket was full, we'd empty the berries into large, low cardboard boxes called flats. We could stack about six flats on top of each other. For each full flat, we received a punch on our pay ticket (the size of a business card). At the end of the day, each punch on our card was tallied and we were paid in cash before we boarded our bus. 

Second worst crop after strawberries was string beans. While we could stand up and pick and be shaded by the six-foot-high plants, I was allergic to the beans. When the tip of the beans touched my wrists or forearms, an itchy rash developed. Wearing long-sleeved shirts helped a little, but I still had an itchy, allergic reaction. The other problem with picking beans was putting all the beans into a burlap bag and dragging the bag down the row with you. Heavy and heavier, who knew string beans could weigh so much? And you had to make sure the bags were FULL. Our bosses made us shake the bags down and even sit on the bag to compress the beans. That way we could fill the bags completely to the top. When the bags were full, we had to drag/carry them to the person who weighed the bags. If memory serves me correctly a full bag weighed somewhere between 40-60 lbs. (Some bags were larger than others.)

I can't imagine how my younger brother and sister did it. My sister was 12 and my brother was 10. We worked three or four summers in the crop fields. Made us strong and instilled a work ethic in us. Kids today could use some good, hard, honest-to-goodness work. It would help with the obesity epidemic as well. When you're outside working, you're not inside eating, plus you burn many calories being on your feet picking all day.

By the end of our workdays, we were beat and completely filthy (especially after picking strawberries). Some days Mom came to pick us up when she wasn't working. If we got off early, my sister, brother and I would walk to the creek on the way home. Sometimes we'd catch crawdads or, if it was really hot, we'd just sink down into that creek and cool off. At its deepest it wasn't more than four or five feet, and it sure felt good. Mom would pick us up and we'd sit in the bed of the pickup and let the breeze from driving cool and dry us. Somehow we survived without seatbelts. Sometimes we would ride up on the side of the pickup bed. Horrors!

It was nice getting paid in cash every day. Each of us kids set up our own savings account and the money went into them. Once or twice a week, we'd go to Nap's Grocery Store and have a malt: 19 cents for a small and 29 cents for a medium, any flavor. Mmmmm...those were so tasty. Once in a while, for a super special treat, we went to Dairy Queen. Haven't outgrown DQ to this day.

When fall came, a whole new crop started--nuts (walnuts, filberts/hazelnuts). Fall in the Pacific Northwest is rainy and cold. Harvesting nuts usually meant going under trees dripping rain and raking piles of leaves and nuts, then hand sorting the nuts and putting them into burlap bags. If memory serves me, I think we only did one season of walnuts and filberts. That was enough.

This morning Bob had the excitement of thunder, lightning AND pouring rain. The rain didn't last long enough to create big, muddy puddles or flood anything, but it dampened the caliche dust enough so we're not getting clouds of dust in our faces when the semis pull up. (Gate guarders, you know what I'm talking about.)

Bob and the Gate Guard Guys had lunch at DQ today. Six showed up and they had a nice time talking and catching up. Attendees were Bob A., Bob H., Jerry R., Jerry B., Bruce S., and Dennis. 

Followup items: 

1. The water pump on our LOMA-provided trailer was replaced today. The switch went out. It took our repairman, John, an extra day to come out, but he had to buy the replacement head for the pump. I made a 3-2-1 Cake to thank him for fixing our water pump. He really appreciated it. 
2. Speaking of 3-2-1 Cake, I really must thank Susan again for turning me on to this easy-to-make cake. If any of the drivers are having a particularly bad day, I can make this little cake in the microwave. Total time from start to finish about two minutes. The drivers LOVE a nice warm, fresh-from-the-oven cake! One guy was so appreciative he brought us two old-fashioned GLASS bottles filled with Coca Cola! Nice.
3. Our refrigerator: Apparently the lack of coldness is a common complaint in RV refrigerators during a very hot spell. We called a very helpful mobile RV repair man (Russell of Scruss and Smith RV) who told us over the phone we needed to put a fan in the outside compartment behind the refrigerator where the coils are. You see, all day long, the unrelenting summer sun beats down on that side of the 5er which is overheating the coils. Bob took our small fan from the bedroom and put it in by the refrigerator coils. He also took a wet paper towel and washed the dust off the coils. Pretty soon the refrigerator should be humming along providing us with nice cold food. Who do you think we're going to call if something breaks? Russell. He was so nice to give us the info.
4. Something else we learned today from John, our LOMA repairman. During the high heat of Texas summer we need to leave both side doors of our generator open to cool the engine. He said if we don't, the generator will over-heat and shut down. No, no, no, no, no...definitely don't want THAT to happen!
5. Today the wind shifted so the gas smell blew off into the mesquite trees. Nice to have a respite. As soon as I said that, the wind shifted and guess what? Yep, it's blowing right at us again. P.U.

Kitty picture alert...don't scroll down if you aren't interested in fur-kid pics. Bowie hogged all the photos last time, now it's Sunnie's turn...

"Yeah, so? I'm comfortable. Leave me alone."

Uh-oh. A disturbance in the bedspread. What could it be?

It's Sunnie...directly under the air conditioning duct.

I took the above picture by putting the camera on the floor and shooting directly up under the covers. You can see the overhead light at the top of the photo. What a look he's giving me.

So cute!

Can you tell I'm back to normal??

Travel Bug out.

Creativity & Gate Babysitting -- Sat., June 16

Cotulla, Texas:

Being isolated in the desert has done something to my brain. My creativity is returning. I have not written poetry for years, but I have started again. When we quiet the busy-ness from our minds and lives and opt for quiet time, creativity has a chance to sneak in. I may be a bit rusty with the poetry, but I find writing inspiration and my sense of humor are kicking in.

Creativity manifests as writing and photography for me.  Others sculpt (clay, sand, ice), paint, knit, sew, crochet, tat, draw, garden, tell stories, do calligraphy, do beadwork, make jewelry, quilt, tattoo, make mandalas (sand "paintings"), arrange flowers, do interior decoration, decorate cakes and baked goods, and do glass blowing (plus lots more).

The human mind is capable of so much and we use just a fraction of it. I enjoy our slower pace of life gate guarding. We're not so busy "do-ing" and can spend time "be-ing."

Gate guarding update: Another gate guard has been without phone or internet for a couple of days. She is single and can't just up and leave her gate to get her equipment repaired. 

Today, I went to babysit her gate while she headed into San Antonio to go to the Apple Mac store and buy some supplies. I arrived at 1:45 p.m. and was greeted by Susan who introduced me to Angel.

Angel's greeting.

Awwwwww.

Her gate was super slow. I checked in two vehicles and checked two out. That was it. The rest of the day included a two-hour nap, I finished reading "American Idol," and started on "The Burning Wire" by Jeffery Deaver. So far "Burning Wire" is very interesting. I'm almost half way through it. There's a lot of information on electricity in this thriller.

When Susan returned at midnight, I helped her unload her groceries. Then she taught me how to make "3-2-1 Cake." I'd never heard of it before. Into a large ziploc freezer bag, put one box of angel food cake mix and one box of regular cake mix (any flavor you like).  Zip the bag and mix the two cake mixes together. You will store most of the mix in the bag and use 3 Tbsp. of the cake mix at a time. Here's how:

Choose a microwave safe mug. Measure 3 Tbsp. of cake mix into the mug. Add 2 Tbsp. water to the mug and mix thoroughly. Batter should be the consistency of cake mix. Put the mug with the batter into the microwave and cook on high for one minute.  (Her microwave is 900 watts. Depending on the wattage of your microwave cooking time could be different.) Voila! You have cake! She made the cake for me to show me how to do it. It was easy and yummy...she even put cut up strawberries on it and let me take some home to Bob. What fun!

"3-2-1 Cake"

3 Tbsp. cake mix (see above)

2 Tbsp. water

1 minute in the microwave

The things we learn out here. I tell you. It's amazing.

Travel Bug out.