The Party's Over

It had to happen. The trip had to end sometime. And so it has. After finding yet one more gem of a park, Letchworth State Park in New York, also known as 'The Grand Canyon of the East,' we are back on the Cape. We are still counting our blessings, grateful for the opportunity to ride around the country visiting friends and family. It has been great fun; we were so lucky with the weather and the health of our bodies, minds and car. When asked what my favorite part of the trip has been, I have to say it has been holding and watching new granddaughter Claire. OK, the Grand Canyon was more spectacular to look at, but Claire tugs at my heart strings more. Yes, we would do it again. No, we don't think we need an RV at this point, although one would have made the thunderstorm the last night a lot more comfortable. Thanks for all the nice comments about the blog. We enjoyed writing it, but I expect life in the really slow lane back home does not warrant any more entries. So, until we take off again...

917.3

As we near the end of 12,000 miles of blue highways, we would be slack if we failed to acknowledge the many public libraries we visited over the past three months, including Chapel Hill (NC), Palm Bay and Cocoa (FL), St. Martinville and Johnson Bayou (LA), Galveston (TX), Grand Canyon Village (AZ), London and Weston (OH), and finally Cazenovia (NY), where we were introduced to Jessie the Library Cat.
With wireless Internet, air-conditioning, clean restrooms, newspapers, and invariably informed and helpful staff to answer our questions, libraries were always a welcome stop along the way. (Jessie, by the way, comes and goes during the day, but returns before closing and lives in the library at night.) -DN

Lake Erie

We are just booping along averaging about 30 miles an hour, but seeing every inch of Lake Erie's shoreline. Walking the Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge, we saw a bald eagle, warblers, and dozens of goslings. In Vermillion we took in the Great Lakes Shipping Museum where I was almost as bored as a class of students there on a field trip. Doug soaked it up; I listened to the weather radio on display. However, the highlight of the day was a stop at Conneaut, Ohio's White Turkey Drive-In which has to be the cleanest restaurant on the face of the earth. Honestly, it was so cool! The immaculate restrooms have little turkeys stenciled on the floors, and the whole place is retro '50s. It has been in business since 1952, managed by the same family the whole time. Put this place on your list. Later we camped right on the shore of Lake Erie where the wind blew so hard during the night, I feared for my life. Wimparoonie that I am, I bailed for the car while Doug slept peacefully in the tent.

Tom Sawyer

Much like Tom Sawyer, Doug's brother Larry has convinced us that planting trees, washing cars and cutting the grass is really loads of fun! And it is...sort of. So we have spent the last two days doing what we have not done for most of the last three months - chores. We have had a great time working together, cheering Ted at baseball games, Margaret at softball and gymnastics, and picnicking on the back porch. It is family time at its best. We've had time to read and talk, walk and lounge, eat and drink, play cards and do puzzles. Another highlight was the nighttime tour of the Toledo Museum of Art. The new glass pavilion was spectacular! Wish you were here!

Polar Bears and Baked Steak

Traveling in Ohio has been lovely. Sure, the land is flat and the fog was thick, but the back roads wind through rich farmland with tidy houses sheltered by tall trees, lush lawns and sturdy barns. The fields are being plowed and new growth evidence is everywhere. Like comfort food for the eyes. Doug and I camped at Indian Lake State Park and rested along the Maumee River. Very few people, but lots of nature. We wandered around small communities - West Liberty, London, and Ada. Ohio Northern University, home of the Polar Bears, was picture-perfect - sunny skies, friendly town, everything in bloom, amid the bustle of graduation plans. People were so nice; one woman gave Doug an ONU Christmas ornament! (Is it too late to get another degree?)

Here's a question for our fellow travelers. We see it on most menus, cafe windows, and benefit dinner signs. What is "baked steak?"

So blue, they're black

These West Virginia back roads are so blue, they're black! We've been traveling on lovely winding, climbing roads through the green mountains. It just takes us a day and a half to get anywhere! The hills appear covered in velvet folds of new spring growth. The weather has been perfect and the campground last night was almost empty. Doug and I had fun catching up with Patty and Chuck in Roanoke on Tuesday and then made it to Greenbrier State Forest for the night. For someone who used to eat somewhat healthy, I have gone downhill big time. Yesterday I set a personal record by hitting Wendy's for a potato and a 'frosty' (what is that stuff?), and then cruised into a Subway for a carbo-loaded sub for dinner. Yum! The only greens I ate in 24 hours were some broccoli flakes on the cheese-soaked potato. Let's see what Ohio has to offer.

Not Done Yet

This baby business is very hard work! However, we are not done traveling the blue highways yet! As Doug and I were preparing to say our reluctant goodbyes to our family and friends here in North Carolina, I had a brainstorm. Why not just keep on truckin' and head semi-west to Ohio where more family awaits? We had cut that part of our trip when we raced back to the early baby. So today we will begin the slow route northward and visit Virginia, West Virginia and Ohio. Staying a full two weeks here in the town we had called home for over thirty years has been fun in a bittersweet kind of way. I never tire of walking on the UNC campus and people watching on Franklin Street. We have had such a grand time catching up with our friends and everyone has been so generous with their hospitality. Still, I feel like I don't live anywhere anymore. Or maybe I feel like I live everywhere. It is like being a human tumbleweed, or a billiard ball. And some of these folks must be tired of seeing us on their doorsteps! Okay, okay, put down your hands! We're going!

Joyful

Joyful

Doug and I have fallen in love again. We are both in love with our tiny granddaughter who has left us breathless with wonder. We were warned, but skeptical as many of you described the wellspring of emotion that the birth of a grandchild creates. You were right on the money. I call it the "throw-myself-in-front-of-the-train" kind of love I feel for this child, just as I have for my own children. It is truly amazing to me how this type of attachment develops after spending a week with her. After all, she does squirm, yell, fuss, and celebrates bodily functions with wild abandon with no regard for time of day or need for sleep. Yet we all sit around the kitchen table, paying very little attention to what we are eating, each of us with our heads turned to watch her sweet face. Joyful, joyful, we adore her.

Zoom

Zoom
We are back and have been properly introduced to our new granddaughter. Judy is a much greater help than she thinks she is, and I—other than walking the dog and folding laundry—may be just the opposite. She, of course, is beautiful and seems to be growing before our eyes. But still, so small: her head is the size of a softball; her tiny feet no longer than my thumb.

Our return trip is still a bit of a blur of self-pump gas stops, bad coffee, and great ice cream cones. 2933 miles in four long days. Quite a difference from the seven leisurely weeks we took to drive from the Cape, via Florida, to California and the Golden Gate. Memorable eastbound stops included the Road Kill Café on old Route 66 in Arizona; the Sayre, Oklahoma, town campground; the about-to-become ghost town of Cotton Plant, Arkansas; and the lodge deep in Natchez Trace State Park in Tennessee.

For obvious reasons, we’re not eager to be on the road again for a while. The Tarheel State was home for nearly thirty years, and we’re glad to be back. -DN

Blasting Back

Blasting Back
Lord, this is a great country, but it sure is wide. I am writing this in the car, and will upload it as soon as we land back in the Carolinas. This is our fourth, and hopefully final day driving the interstates. The last three days have started around sunrise and ended after dark. From groves, to desert, to peaks, to hills, how fortunate we have been to stumble upon three wonderful, different places to sleep.
In Arizona we pulled into Homolovi Ruins State Park. I don’t remember much about it, and I never saw any ruins, but we slept on a wide plateau in our modified car, safe and sound under a million stars.
Night two we had decided to take our chances with a nondescript motel when we saw a sign indicating camping at the town park in Sayre, Oklahoma. What the heck; we drove into a scene from the 1950s. The sun was setting on a lovely, small lake, playground, miniature golf range, and tiny, dilapidated campground. It was just what we needed. Two RVs were there, so we felt safe and pulled in under the trees for another good night’s rest. The next morning I proved to the town of Sayre that I am a tough cookie by taking a cold shower in the buff in the men’s restroom which also served as a condo colony for beetles and moths.
Last evening was the weirdest of all. After dark we followed twisting, dark and empty roads ten miles to Natchez Trace State Park east of Memphis. We pulled in to the Wrangler Campground. What do we know? We’re not wranglers and didn’t even guess that we were entering the horse world. Doug describes it as a midnight scene in the Middle Ages –people on horseback emerging from the trees, along the road, others hunkered down around smoky campfires, ragamuffin kids running wild through the woods. We moved on; we just didn’t fit in; we didn’t bring our horse. The RV campground was almost as strange; not a site was empty and the big rigs were decked out in Christmas lights and other colorful paraphernalia. Feeling a bit discouraged, we drove further on to the park’s lodge. Ahhh, civilization! We were rewarded with a lovely, quiet, clean room and a good night’s sleep. Waking up today, we found we were on the shore of beautiful, serene Pin Oak Lake.
What lucky people we are! And don’t think for a minute that we don’t know it and thank God for our blessings. Especially that baby whom we are hurrying to meet!

Turning Around

Turning Around

Tomorrow we will turn around and head east. We've enjoyed San Francisco as we always do. The four of us hiked and lunched in Saratoga reminiscing about the wedding here just six months ago. It has been fun fooling around with Kate and Tom's border terrier, Banjo, a funny little guy who looks like he belongs in a Dr. Seuss book.

Doug and I took the train into town today and walked along the wharf area. I love the "bush man." He is a guy who sits on the sidewalk near Fisherman's Wharf, surrounding himself with five-foot long leafy branches. When someone walks by, usually a group of tourists or teenage girls, he jumps out at them yelling "Boo!" Everybody laughs and folks drop a dollar or two in his money bucket.

We swore that we had seen enough rocks to last a lifetime, and therefore planned to drive back East via the more northern route through Salt Lake City, Denver, St. Louis. But today I looked at the weather forecasts for Utah and Nevada, so we are heading back through the garlic capital of the world again (Gilroy, CA) and taking the southern route, retracing our steps as far as Flagstaff. More wind, but no snow. And our car door is reattached! Let the drive begin...again.

Grand Daughter

Grand Daughter

We are blessed with a grand daughter and now with a granddaughter! She was born as we left the Grand Canyon. We are so grateful that they are well and surrounded with love and support as we sit here 3000 miles away! So our trip plans have been altered a bit. We are skipping the tour of the Southern California coast, and spending a few days with Tom and Kate south of San Francisco before heading back. It is wonderful to see them again. They were gracious to welcome us several days before expected, and we enjoyed an easy day of walking, talking, playing outdoors and being teary listening to the new babe make her new-life sounds via cellphone. Tomorrow we are spending the remainder of our trip budget on having the car door reattached after the wind damage (not too far from the truth!).

Grand

Grand
Three things we learned at the Grand Canyon:

1. The rock layer at the bottom is the oldest rock on earth: 1.8 billion years.

2. Ravens--there are thousands--will peck into an unattended cooler and eat everything in it but the canned goods. (We witnessed the results of this at the campsite across from ours.)

3. Last fall a man drove over the South Rim. He landed 4,460 feet short of the 4,500 foot-deep Canyon, but he--and the car--were pulled out.

We walked for miles along the Rim Trail, watched a coyote trot past our tent and elk cross the road at 6am, and looked up at night at more stars than we'd ever seen before. It was a beautiful visit. -DN

Up and Down

Up and Down
Driving across southern New Mexico is like riding a 400-mile rollercoaster. Up and down across mountain ranges--Guadalupes, Sacramentos, San Andres, Organs (look it up), Mimbres, Mogollons, San Franciscos--and, with them, temperatures from low 30s to mid 80s in the space of an hour.
The morning began 750 feet underground at Carlsbad Caverns on a mile-long 'trail' through chamber after chamber of back-lit stalactites and stalagmites, bats, and ending with a restaurant. (When the elevator was built in 1931, it was the longest in the world, and replaced a four-hour hike with a two-minute ride.)
For once, we were blessed with bad weather. Going over the Sacramentos (I think), the weather dropped, the snow began, and the prospect of pitching a tent in the woods became a lot less attractive. In the tiny village of Cloudcroft we found a lodge with the name The Lodge, and it turned into a wonderful evening. Victorian on the outside, Bavarian on the inside, reads their brochure, and it was just that. We were the only guests on the top floor, and it was either very romantic or very spooky. -DN

Unsung Heroes

Unsung Heroes

I think it was Ben Franklin who suggested that America choose the turkey as its national bird, wasn’t it? But, honestly, is there any species that demonstrates hard work and ecological conservation better than the vulture? Really, these guys are as ugly as sin, but they do the job they were born to do, serving their country by cleaning up the place. They’re downright patriotic, eating roadkill and then soaring through the skies just as majestically as any eagle. And from far below, one can’t see how unattractive they are with their small, slick, wrinkled heads and clumsy feet. We have watched them from Florida to New Mexico, and lots of them, so they must be able to adapt to whatever we humans throw at them, figuratively and literally.
This week we camped in the Gila National Forest at another treasure of a campground. After white-knuckle driving for a nauseating hour on hairpin curves, we came to Lake Roberts campground. ($3.50 per night, what a deal!) We pitched the tent on a ridge overlooking the white-capped lake (wind again). Swallows were sweeping through the sky eating their dinner, an eagle soared overhead for awhile, a wild turkey gobbled across the lake. Then came my big guys – the vultures! And they were having a blast for themselves. Looking like a squadron of B-24s, they were using winds and updrafts, gliding back and forth across the lake. They had to be having a grand time; you could almost hear them cackling with glee.
The Vulture, Official Bird of the Blue Highway.

Blowin' in the Wind

Blowin' in the Wind

Tuesday, April 10th, found us fighting the wind – again. But this time the sun was brilliant, the sky was Carolina blue and it was warm, relatively speaking! So we visited White Sands National Monument, New Mexico. Towering piles of gypsum are really all the monument is, but I loved it. We took off by foot, climbing the ever-shifting, glaringly white dunes. The ‘trails’ are marked with weighted rods sticking out of the sand, but the wind was wreaking havoc with that plan. So we wandered around the ridges, conscious of the fact that you could get lost in the whiteness. Perhaps I miss the beach, or maybe it just seemed so clean (camping makes one dirty), but for whatever reason, this was one of my favorite stops. Missile museums and military installations dotted the highway as we headed out. Put this place on your “to do” list.
PS - In case you folks think I am exaggerating about the wind, I’m not. Until we find a Buick dealer in California, I will exit the car by climbing over the center panel and out the driver’s door. The wind nearly tore the passenger side door off its hinges the other day and it does not close tightly now. Bummer. But if Doug missed his convertible, he can now pretend we’re in it, with the sounds of rushing and whistling air as we drive along.

Roswell

Roswell
We are close to Roswell, NM and can feel it in our bones and in our blog. The photos are not uploading properly and some of you may see a weird message about the content. Be assured, I am not posting anything inappropriate!

Big Bend

Big Bend

Doug and I spent Easter at Big Bend National Park. Those folks on the Rio Grande don't have religion! There was no sunrise service because "no one has requested one." So I did, but I got neither the service nor the sun. Nevertheless, we counted our blessings and felt very happy that we were staying in a warm stone cottage. The weather was wild - wind, rain, mist, snow, ice. I must tell you that the place is gorgeous and we can only imagine what it is like in good weather. Tall cliffs, rocks and desert plants, deer and hawks. We had a couple of good hikes and cheered when the sun came out Monday morning as we headed north and west.

Out in Space

Out in Space

It is an interesting contrast in living spaces. When we sleep in the modified back of our car, we have 24 square feet of space. If we are able to set up the tent, we have 28 sq ft. Today, Good Friday, we are splurging with a palatial 200+ at the Chisos Mountains Lodge in Big Bend National Park. But no matter where we lay our heads for the night, outside we are always surrounded by big space. The Gulf of Mexico. Dozens of deer spread out on a lush meadow. Big skies over deep canyons. Vast, star-studded jet black. Even the racing clouds of an approaching cold front give me the feeling of lots of space. Sometimes that is invigorating; other times it makes me feel a bit on the homesick side. (uh-oh) I remember NY friend Bill Simon saying he would think twice about the proposed Nantucket Sound windmill project because it would alter that feeling of vast space that you get when you gaze out at the sea. You can’t really put your finger on it, but you know what I mean. Just rambling while we wait out the fog...and rain...and wind...and snow (!) in Big Bend.

East Side, West Side

East Side, West Side

Finally, Texas. Starting in the morning rain on the Galveston shoreline, we managed to find a blue highway (State Rt. 6 via Alvin, home of Nolan Ryan to you beisbol fans) to Houston, where we visited with our dear North Carolina friend Erin and her family before continuing on to look for a place to pitch our small tent. If anything has made us feel like small-town rubes, it was driving on the network of highways leading out of the city. Five lanes of traffic at 80 mph was good to get behind us.

Just an hour out of Houston, though, we found Stephen F. Austin State Park and an almost empty, wooded campground on the Brazos River with white-tailed deer roaming everywhere. It felt like an oasis, and we slept soundly after dining on a can of Progresso clam chowder, cheese crackers and applesauce. In the morning, we took the bikes off the roof and followed a trail along the river until we bogged down in mud and had to turn back.

On the road again, we found ourselves through San Antonio and back on a blue highway west toward the Rio Grande sooner than we’d expected. Following a grocery-and-ice stop in Del Rio we continued a few miles on to Seminole Canyon, a small state park—eight tent sites—on the Mexican border. Dry and rocky but with fifty-mile views in every direction, it was a stark contrast to the previous night. Before leaving for Big Bend the following morning, we hiked to the canyon wall where we watched hawks and vultures (a lot more of the latter) circling in the updraft. Jackrabbits, but no roadrunners yet. -DJN

No Whiners in Louisiana

No Whiners in Louisiana

This is a quick and dirty entry, folks. April 6 finds us at a tiny museum on the side of Rt 90 in west Texas. However, I do want to tell you that coastal Louisiana was shockingly desolate, mostly due to Hurricane Rita of a few years back. We slept in the Rendezvous in the middle of what used to be a community of 300+ homes. Now it is nothing but gravel, a few rebuilt cottages, and maybe a dozen trailers. Nancy and Dick of Johnson Bayou came out of their rebuilt home, offered us a plot of grass to camp on and shared their before and after pictures. They were so positive and vow to make a life again there on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. These Louisianans wouldn't take a penny for their hospitality, suggesting we "pass it on to someone along the way who needs assistance." We will. Early the next morning we made our way through a maze of natural gas and oil refinery 'stuff' and over the bridge to Port Arthur, Texas. More on Texas later.

Segwaying into the Next Phase

Segwaying into the Next Phase

After three relaxing weeks on the Florida east coast with J's family, we have turned west. Two days with wonderful friends on Siesta Key, where we kayaked among herons, pelicans and cormorants, walked the beautiful wide beach, shared wonderful meals, and went for a sunset cruise on their classic pontoon boat.

Next was an overnight stop with my brother and family, vacationing from Ohio. Joining the baseball fans among the many thousands of Florida visitors this time of year, we took in a spring training game, cheering on No. 3, left-fielder and leadoff batter, Ted N. of the Green Bears. -DN

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

The Good, the Bad, the Ugly

Sunday, April 1, Doug and I enjoyed a wonderful drive from Sarasota to Panama City. Once off I-75 and onto blue highways, there was minimal traffic. We crossed the Sewannee River, hugged the Gulf coast and watched the setting sun. Panhandle towns like Sopchoppy and Carabelle haven't lost their Southern charm since my days at FSU. The day was a very good one.

Then our luck went South. There wasn't a camp site to be found and the rates at dumpy motels, where the spring break crowd dominated, were too high. So, we did what the tough do when the going gets tough - we camped in a Wal-Mart parking lot! Yikes! We actually did. And I must tell you the truth; it wasn't that bad! The employees couldn't have been nicer, even the trash zamboni driver who cruises the parking lot all night seemed sensitive to our presence. Still, there is nothing like shuffling into a 24-hour Wal-Mart in your pajamas to brush your teeth at 4 am. Or watching Doug semi-melt down as we 'made camp.' It is an experience.

Finally, our very early breakfast the next morning should have been our once-a-day meal splurge. Waffle House is open 24/7. They mop their floors at 4:45 am, diners or no. And you can have your hashbrowns smothered, scattered, covered, chunked, diced, peppered, capped, topped, or scattered all the way. Our dining splurge wasn't really good, nor was it actually bad; it was ... well, you know what I mean.

Spring Shower

Spring Shower (March 24)

Thanks so much, Lara.

Thank you, dear Katy.

What a delightful party

For the soon to come baby.

Such wonderful gifts!

So many good wishes!

We had so much fun.

The food was delicious!

Rosalie? Frank?

Her name isn't set.

But a favorite relative's

Is my inside bet.

So Wendy and Jon

Now await their new cutie,

Who I hope will announce,

"Hi, there! Just call me Judy!"

Mr. Butts

Mr. Butts

My mother and I do not always see eye to eye. No surprise there. But every afternoon my dear mother and I sit down, call a truce and pay tribute to Alfred Mosher Butts. Every afternoon Mom and I play Scrabble.

The year my mother was hauling me around on her hip, Al Butts was washed up as an architect and invented the game of Scrabble. Not until the 1950s did the game take off and now it is found in one of every three homes in North America. Our family has played for as long as I can remember. (I hate to tell you that Doug and I even took our board and letters on our honeymoon! But we did play while drinking some Caribbean cocktails, so I guess it isn't that bad!)

At eighty-two years old, Mom is sharp as a tack, and to prove it she scored an all time high of 333 points this week. Any score of over 300 is recorded on the lid of our game box. So it was quite an accomplishment that she beat every number on the tattered box! Our games are cut-throat with Mom pretending to accuse me of denying her legitimate words, wrecking her planned next move, or fudging the score. When my sister joins in, we share the heat.

I will miss this part of our time together when we head west.

Thank you, Mr. Butts.

On the Beach

On the Beach
Lucky to get a permit to hike into one of two 'primitive campsites' on the beach at the Canaveral National Seashore while the Blogmistress was in NC last weekend, I learned the following: (1) sand is a lot harder at 3am than 3pm; (2) ten-foot surf is lot louder at 3am than 3pm; and (3) the last beer in the little cooler tastes just as good at 3am as at 3pm.
Despite less than a great night's sleep, it was memorable. Just before sunset I was successful in getting a ruddy turnstone to eat peanuts nearly out of my hand, and in the middle of the night the Milky Way seemed bright enough to read by. Definitely my kind o' place.
And an encouraging sign for the rest of our trip: the tent--and I--remained dry as a bone through an early morning rainstorm. -DJN

Strip Joints

Strip Joints

A lot of creative entrepreneurship takes place on the side of Florida's roads. Strip malls and flea markets seem to stretch as far as the eye can see along busy byways like Route 1 or the non-beach side of A1A. Mom loves to amble through the flea market stalls, just looking at the bizarre offerings. We did that last week until my sister suffered from sensory overload.

Some businesses crop up overnight and often are gone just as quickly. But unlike the cloned burger doodle joints at every I-95 interchange, these small, locally owned establishments sport very clever names, choose strange neighbors, and offer some wild stuff. Casually glancing out the car window today, I found Gutter King sharing a block with the Faith & Deliverance Ministries. You could wash at Soap Opera Laundry while losing money at Country Bingo next door. Eat a dog at Mustard's Last Stand before your appointment at Life Force Chiropracter. And, I am not making this up, Discount Plumbing Supplies is too close for comfort to Dr. Zipper, the urologist.

A Step Back in Time

A Step Back in Time

I took a trip with my mother and sister Nancy to visit my childhood friend in Gainesville. When Paula and I entered the University of Florida in 1965, we had already been best friends for eight years. Our sisters were friends and our mothers were bosom buddies. So, we have a lot of history - memories that are painfully embarrassing (The wacky freshmen guys took our bedspread instead of our lingerie during a campus panty raid!), hysterically funny (We can still sing the entire song for our horrible 8th grade play entitled "Our Lady of Guadalupe"), or sweet (I think she actually gave me her 7th grade boyfriend 'cause I couldn't get one on my own!). We talked and laughed, finished each other's sentences, sang the songs from school, and shared stories. It was very special. Mom was a real trooper and took us to a lakeside dinner in Mount Dora (more like 'very small hill' Dora). And whenever a day ends with hot fudge, you know it has been a great one!

The Beast

The Beast

Many of you have noted that I haven't included photos of Doug. Come on, folks! You know what he's like. As my sister says, "He's a beast!" If Doug is not running or walking or swimming, he's riding his bike. Back and forth he goes - up a trail, down the road, over the bridge. Doug's days do include a lot of reading, but with the weather cooperating so beautifully, he has been outside most of the time. And, believe it or not, he took in the Italian-American Padre Pia Festival as well as the Melbourne St. Patrick's Day street celebration. I think the green beer had something to do with that. The 'beast' usually crashes by 8:30 every evening. What a guy!

Shangri-la

Shangri-la

Sometimes you just don't know what is hidden around the corner. That is what happened to us Wednesday. Expecting very primitive camping in the Ocala National Forest, we pulled into Juniper Springs Campground just before sunset. Taking our bearings and the usual walk around the place, checking out the big RVs, finding the water pump, we followed a path to the actual spring. Unbelievable! Thanks to the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s, we found a gorgeous natural swimming area, surrounded with terraced stone steps and tall oaks. And, thank the Lord, no alligators in the spring pool. Instead we watched a running water mill turn at one end of the spring and sand boils beneath us. A sand boil is water erupting from underground causing the white sand to ‘bubble.’

The only downer at this gorgeous spot was the sight of raccoons who have learned to ‘perform’ for humans. The behavior is bizarre, and I reported it to a ranger thinking I had saved everyone there from a case of rabies. These critters stand on their hind legs, place their front legs under their chin, and ... shimmy. Doug thought he was witnessing a case of wild hiccups; I thought seizure. Anyway, we were assured that these guys have learned how to get a free meal.

Stegosaurus

Stegosaurus
On Wednesday, 3/14, we found another hidden gem. Lake Woodruff National Wildlife Refuge hugs the St. John's River and includes earthen dikes around water impoundment areas. We biked along these raised paths enjoying the warmth, the open sky, the expansive views and the dinosaurs. Yes, they certainly looked like dinosaurs to me! One big-ass gator was spread across our path and, when he raised his massive self up on all fours, I thought, “My, Lord! That must be a stegosaurus!” We gaped as he lumbered into the water and submerged in the muck. My hat blew off, I couldn’t get the camera set, and we missed the photo op of the day. But, hey, all fingers and toes are present and accounted for. Whew!

Herons, and Gators, and Trains

Herons, and gators and trains, oh, my!
Doug and I spent the last few days camping in central Florida, the Old Florida where you can go miles and never see a tourist attraction or a Disney billboard. Just marsh, forest and boiled peanuts. We popped that tent up at Blue Spring State Park where we slept with the freight trains rumbling past our heads. We now know why God invented ear plugs. Doug led me on a very long, very warm hike through the jungle. It counted for several days of exercise, and needless to say, we met just one other masochist during the four hours. Even I was willing to jump into the 72-degree spring which bubbles up a gazillion gallons of crystal clear water each day. Above us, the herons watched from the moss-draped trees, the garfish tread water below with their mouths open waiting for something with more meat on its bones, and the gators sat silently soaking up the sun on the banks. It was a bit nerve-wracking, and I didn't last long, but it was deliciously cool. Wish you were here!

Sisters

Sisters

Among my best memories of this trip will surely be watching Judy and Nancy in each other's company.
-DN
-Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge, 3/11/07

Looking Skyward

Looking Skyward

It was a most exciting Thursday night! Doug could barely wait for the rocket launch from Cape Canaveral. The countdown was delayed until way past our embarrassingly early bedtime. So, while Mom, Dad and I watched from the balcony, Doug was pacing the sidewalk and running back and forth up the steps to check the NASA channel. Finally, we had lift-off. The rocket rose up in a ball of fire, streaked slowly across the sky and sailed out into space. Worth the wait.

Today we spent the day looking up at the amazing wildlife at Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge and Cape Canaveral National Seashore. Arriving very early in a fog (literally), we hiked the five-mile marshland trail along the Indian River and Mosquito Lagoon. Until the National Park Service took measures to control the salinity and water levels, this preserve sometimes put out a million mosquitoes per square yard per day! Poor Ponce de Leon! My sister Nancy, Doug and I had no such problems and were rewarded at each bend in the road. Roseate spoonbills, ibis, wood storks, herons, egrets, white pelicans, ospreys, hundreds of ducks and migrating shore birds, and (are you ready?) a gorgeous bald eagle high atop his post near a huge nest. Lest you think we are total bird nerds, we did spy a couple of snakes, a raccoon, and several GATORS!

After all that educational activity, we headed for the beach and hung with the surfer dudes. We were the second-oldest folks on the beach, but as you can see, I, for one, fit right in.

Thanks for the messages. We miss all of you!

Campmobile

Campmobile

This is Doug with a 'guest post' as permitted by the Chief Blogmeister. As we will be spending the greater part of the next two months driving, eating and sleeping in the non-Roadtrek, I thought I'd offer a fifty-cent tour for those who have yet to see it.

Our campmobile is a Buick Rendezvous with the rear seat removed and a 3/4 inch particle board sleeping platform riding atop four 18 x 24 inch plastic storage containers. Two of these are our suitcases; one holds our laptop, small crank/dynamo radio, books/games, etc.; the fourth, non-perishable food. Built-in compartments to the rear contain our tent, small cookstove, toolbox, medical kit, hatchet, bicycle pump, and the critical roll of duct tape. Above us are two bicycles and a luggage carrier about the size and shape of a coffin. In it are three soft-sided travel bags holding Coleman stove, cook gear, lantern, sleeping bags, bike helmets, and two camp chairs.

With all this storage space over and under us, the only item visible in the rear windows is a blue air mattress, which folds up to the size of a large pillow when not inflated. And in a stroke of genius, J created 'cubbies' for each us by modifying two plastic hanging shoe bags and attaching them to the rear of the front seats--perfect for flashlights, notebooks, toothbrushes, camera, extra eyeglasses, and other small stuff.

Following our shakedown cruise to the Sunshine State, some minor re-arranging is in the cards--mostly to place the things we use the most in the most accessible places. Duh. We think we're going to be very comfortable as we head west in the weeks ahead. Stay tuned.

Guitar Man

Guitar Man

I almost hate to tell you how lovely the skies, warm the air, and gentle the breezes are here on the east coast of Florida. Like rock and roll music, it soothes the soul. We did try to camp at Tomoka State Park this week, but the Harleys had taken it over. It is Bike Week at Daytona and the place is crawling with motorcyclists. Doug and I agree that these folks are polite on the road and a change of scenery from Cape Cod in July.

Speaking of rock and roll, here is my dad, aka Guitar Man, here at the retirement community. What a trip he is! Mom and Dad are in great shape and we are enjoying their company. Doug is running around in shorts and t-shirts; I am bobbing around in the 80 degree pool and yakking with the yarn club. I hope to clean-up at Bingo this week!

South Carolina

South Carolina
The second week of our trip began with a stop in Hilton Head, South Carolina. It is the land of Spanish moss, bike paths and wide beaches. Never having been there before, we were surprised at the size of the island and the amount of traffic. If you play tennis, bike or play golf, it must be heaven. Our friends Bob and Trish (he is one of the Buds), took us in for the night, so the tent remains hidden away with the camping paraphernalia. We spent the afternoon walking, talking, eating and listening to 60's tunes. What a life!

North Carolina

North Carolina
Heavens! I never thought it would be so complicated to keep up with this blog business! We have had wireless connection problems. So much to report! Last week Doug and I enjoyed our crossing of the Delaware Bay aboard the Cape May ferry. That was a blue highway if there ever was one. Brilliant sunshine, cold air, and ninety minutes at sea! Then we headed due south along the eastern shore, arriving late on Day 2 of our trip. Several days of basketball, family and friends followed. We loved being with Wendy, Jon and Lucky. It was great fun sharing conversation and meals with our generous friends. We look forward to our new grandchild's arrival!

New Jersey

New Jersey
New Jersey gets bad press! We have found this state to be full of surprises! Not only do the attendants wash the windshields at the NJTP service plazas, there are always fresh flowers at each restroom sink! A nice touch to an otherwise dismal stretch of highway. After sharing tea with my relatives in Riverside, we raced the sunset to Belleplain State Forest near Cape May. We set up camp (well, parked the car and blew up an air mattress), walked the forest for an hour (okay, got somewhat lost) and watched white-tailed deer romp through a clearing. We had the entire place to ourselves. Toasting our good fortune with Chianti and bean soup, we then donned the headlamps and read, snug as two bugs in a Buick. All was right with the world, at least the southern part of New Jersey. As one traveler commented to a trucker outside the rest area of my favorite turnpike, "All days are good ones. Some are just better than others." Tuesday was one of those. Did I mention that ice coated the inside of the windshield during the night?!

Starting Gate

Starting Gate
The starting point for our trip is a frozen one. We will miss the return of migrating shore birds and Spring. Nevertheless, off we go to follow the 'blue highways' as described by William Least Heat Moon in his book of the same title. He called his travel diary a 'journey into America.' I like to think that is what we are doing. As we head south, let us know if there are any particular hidden treasures we shouldn't miss. Of course, the real treasures will be the time we will enjoy with you, dear family and friends. Good-bye, icy winds and long johns! Hello, gentle breezes and short sleeves (we hope)!