Belgian waffles for breakfast. One waffle maker and 7 people means that it takes a while, but it was free. What the heck. We head south, cross the Suwanee River and go into the Fanning Springs State Park. Two manatees—mother and child—in the spring and mullet jumping all over the place. Exciting morning. Water is down, the bald cypress knees are way above water. Lunch at Mulberry’s Barbecue. While we wait for our ribs we read the various articles posted on the wall. One handwritten sign lists all the things in the US that have been sold—the Congress, the ports etc. But we can’t figure out how they came to the conclusion that the ACLU sold the Bill of Rights. Seems to us that they have been protecting it. The sign (presumably erected by the owner) chides the reader to support the Fair Tax and save the USA.
Reading an article it seems that the Fair Tax is 20% VAT and the logic is that you won’t have all this recordkeeping and a $100 item will cost $100 because the tax will be included. What they don’t seem to realize is that a $100 item will cost $120. And that there will be lots of recordkeeping. But I guess it’s better to keep it sounding simple. At least Florida doesn’t include the rebel flag in their state flag.
As we pass through Ocala we see a sign for a RV Show. Can’t resist. We try to find the route. Ms Garmin can’t locate it, a person we accost has no idea where the Florida Horse Park is, so we stumble on. Lo and behold, there is the road! We go south about 7 miles—the address is still Ocala—and find it. We check out the various versions of our RV, the 24 and 25 foot copycats, to see what they have improved and what isn’t as good. I do like the sealed burners on some of them and a few have granite countertops (1/4” thick but still granite). The best of the lot is by Guest House, but it is $130,000!!! Not likely. We do get some ideas about things we can do to ours, and I manage to sell a couple of people on the Navion before we leave.
It is 6 by the time we arrive at our home for the next two nights and the gate is closed. A woman appears at my window, identifies us, goes to get our information and let’s us know that if we go out, we must have an escort to our site when we come back in. This park is for 55+ and has over 300 sites. We settle in, make supper, and decide on a quiet night.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Florida at Last--February 6
We get up early—7:30. Pack up, say our goodbyes, and pull out. We decide to take the scenic route along the ocean. We join Hwy 98 and ride it all the way. It’s truly amazing how long it can take to go 350 miles! We leave at 8:30 and get to our destination, Perry, at 5:30. Okay, so we do dawdle. We stop to check out a Penny’s along the way; Norb needs some new briefs and there are few Penny’s in our area. I also splurge on some colored socks. Yahoo! We eat lunch in the parking lot, feasting on leftovers. I truly love this RV!
We find a shop on the ocean where they are offloading a boatload of Apalachicola oysters. We aren’t particularly fond of oysters, but we do love shrimp, so we get a pound of the largest. We also splurge on some horseradish in hopes of pepping up the sauce we bought in Gulf Shores. Norb is all for just putting the horseradish in ketchup and giving up, but I think the sauce we have can be redeemed.
We pull into Perry, which has about a thousand motels (some out of the business but many still open; lots of “American owned” signs, which put me off, not that we are their target market anyway but still…) The guidebook says that the only reason to stop in Perry is because you are tired of driving, which is exactly why we are stopping in Perry. We don’t want to drive all the way to Umatilla. You can’t really understand how big this country is until you start driving it. We have driven 320 miles today and that’s essentially the distance west to east in the Florida panhandle (okay, plus a little bit). It got up to 60 today but is going back down to the upper 20’s tonight, they say. Tomorrow, tomorrow, there is warmth ahead.
We find a shop on the ocean where they are offloading a boatload of Apalachicola oysters. We aren’t particularly fond of oysters, but we do love shrimp, so we get a pound of the largest. We also splurge on some horseradish in hopes of pepping up the sauce we bought in Gulf Shores. Norb is all for just putting the horseradish in ketchup and giving up, but I think the sauce we have can be redeemed.
We pull into Perry, which has about a thousand motels (some out of the business but many still open; lots of “American owned” signs, which put me off, not that we are their target market anyway but still…) The guidebook says that the only reason to stop in Perry is because you are tired of driving, which is exactly why we are stopping in Perry. We don’t want to drive all the way to Umatilla. You can’t really understand how big this country is until you start driving it. We have driven 320 miles today and that’s essentially the distance west to east in the Florida panhandle (okay, plus a little bit). It got up to 60 today but is going back down to the upper 20’s tonight, they say. Tomorrow, tomorrow, there is warmth ahead.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Line Dancing and Singing--February 5
We start the day off with a line dancing class. I finally learn the Electric Slide. Some of the dances are easy, some are complex but it’s all fun. And exercise! The teacher, Joe, and Norb are the only men there; most of the people in the class have been doing this for 6 weeks so far and they are patient with us. After an hour and a half we call it quits and o outside to see the new RV’s a dealer has brought in. One of them is a copy of ours by Fleetwood so we compare what we like and don’t like. Not enough better things to make me want to change. Lunch (hot dogs, hamburgers, chips, soda) is provided by the RV dealer so we have another chance to socialize. We meet Tom from Sheboygan, WI and his wife. Tom worked for Kohler and spent half the year in China for about 5 years. We discuss China and other places we have all visited. His wife worked the phones for Obama. Needless to say, we feel like kindred souls.
We take the bikes out again to check out the campsites at the state park. They rejected us last month when I tried to reserve a space for these 3 days, but we count at least 20 open spots, and we don’t even ride the whole park. Maybe people canceled because of the cold? The sites are larger at the state park, they have even more activities, and you can reserve for a whole month. First time I have seen a state park where you can stay more than 2 weeks. We go back down to the seaside highway and check out the dunes again. The sand is so soft and white; it’s like the sand in Cancun. I can see why people love these beaches. On the way home we stop at Waffle House and get crispy, crunchy hash browns (crispy, crispy, crispy ones). Norb gives the cook an additional tip.
Once back in camp after our 20 miles ride, we check out the air in the tires. The Accutire gauge dies on us and we can’t figure out how to open the battery case. I go on line, but they don’t seem to be carrying our model any more. Norb uses another gauge and discovers that the inner tires are REALLLY low. He puts me in charge of finding an RV place that can fill them when neighbors on either side of us ask, “What do you need?” And, of course, they have just what we need. People really are friendly and helpful. We have yet to find anybody in this park who hasn’t been coming here for at least 3 years. And everyone is surprised to find out that we are leaving so soon.
Tonight is jam session night. But jam session means that there are song books and 4 musicians and a program. Everybody (well, at least it seems like everybody) sings along to spirituals, folk songs, country and western songs, and pop songs. Quite a mix. One woman plays the hammered dulcimer and 3 play mountain dulcimers. It’s more a singalong than a jam session, but it’s delightful nonetheless.
We take the bikes out again to check out the campsites at the state park. They rejected us last month when I tried to reserve a space for these 3 days, but we count at least 20 open spots, and we don’t even ride the whole park. Maybe people canceled because of the cold? The sites are larger at the state park, they have even more activities, and you can reserve for a whole month. First time I have seen a state park where you can stay more than 2 weeks. We go back down to the seaside highway and check out the dunes again. The sand is so soft and white; it’s like the sand in Cancun. I can see why people love these beaches. On the way home we stop at Waffle House and get crispy, crunchy hash browns (crispy, crispy, crispy ones). Norb gives the cook an additional tip.
Once back in camp after our 20 miles ride, we check out the air in the tires. The Accutire gauge dies on us and we can’t figure out how to open the battery case. I go on line, but they don’t seem to be carrying our model any more. Norb uses another gauge and discovers that the inner tires are REALLLY low. He puts me in charge of finding an RV place that can fill them when neighbors on either side of us ask, “What do you need?” And, of course, they have just what we need. People really are friendly and helpful. We have yet to find anybody in this park who hasn’t been coming here for at least 3 years. And everyone is surprised to find out that we are leaving so soon.
Tonight is jam session night. But jam session means that there are song books and 4 musicians and a program. Everybody (well, at least it seems like everybody) sings along to spirituals, folk songs, country and western songs, and pop songs. Quite a mix. One woman plays the hammered dulcimer and 3 play mountain dulcimers. It’s more a singalong than a jam session, but it’s delightful nonetheless.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
A Quiet Day--February 4
The day dawns clear and sunny and cold—30 degrees at 8 AM. We spend the morning doing indoory things—laundry across the street, playing the piano, reading, listening to music. We work on the bikes. Norb wrapped the gears in saran wrap before we left home. Somehow our bike pump doesn’t seem to want to work; it will pump the tires up to 80 pounds and no more. Norb disassembles the pump a couple of times, oils the gasket, swears at the thing, all to no avail. Would you believe that we bought an electric tire pump along with us? Yesterday I asked why and we agreed that there was no earthly reason to have brought it. Today we disagree. We use it to pump up the tires. We lube the chains. We put on the pannier. And we are off.
There is a bike trail right outside the park that takes us east to Gulf State Park. We then go in the direction of the ocean, always tantalizingly close but somehow it seems we are never going to get there. Then all of a sudden the road veers to the right and we are at Hwy 182 which runs along the ocean. All of the buildings along the shore are empty, there are 3 restaurants that are open—Waffle House, Hooters, and Marks Seafood. The sand is white and fine, much like the sand in Cancun. Wonder what it’s made of?
When we stop at a restaurant to see if they sell shrimp, I talk to the manager. He tells me that May, June, July and August are their busy months. Today he served 250 for lunch; during the summer they typically have 800. I suggest it might be a little warm down here in the summer and he heartily agrees and adds, “And it’s really humid!” He says that most of the people here now are the snowbirds and they leave before semester break when the place is inundated with college kids.
We find a seafood store on the way back home and get a pound of shrimp for supper. It’s a day like few others we’ve had—no great site, no special plans. I sew a button back on, mend a shirt, watch a little TV, check things out on the internet. Shrimp for dinner then games at the clubhouse—poker and whatever. For me whatever is more euchre. Four of us play and it’s a chance to learn people’s story. One of the women at the table doesn’t even live in the park; she and her husband have a condo a few miles away. They lived here for a year and a half after selling all their household things in Arizona and planning to full-time in their RV. But they got here and one month turned into two and then three and the next thing you know it was a year and a half and they decided they didn’t’ really want to full-time after all, so they sold the RV and bought the condo. But by this time they had so many friends in the park—and most of these people have been coming here for years—that they spend a lot of time even now in the park. It’s the birthday of another person at the table and she keeps leaving to take calls from family and friends. She and her husband come down in December and will be here until April. The other woman at the table is a newbie—they have only come for the past 2 years.
There is a bike trail right outside the park that takes us east to Gulf State Park. We then go in the direction of the ocean, always tantalizingly close but somehow it seems we are never going to get there. Then all of a sudden the road veers to the right and we are at Hwy 182 which runs along the ocean. All of the buildings along the shore are empty, there are 3 restaurants that are open—Waffle House, Hooters, and Marks Seafood. The sand is white and fine, much like the sand in Cancun. Wonder what it’s made of?
When we stop at a restaurant to see if they sell shrimp, I talk to the manager. He tells me that May, June, July and August are their busy months. Today he served 250 for lunch; during the summer they typically have 800. I suggest it might be a little warm down here in the summer and he heartily agrees and adds, “And it’s really humid!” He says that most of the people here now are the snowbirds and they leave before semester break when the place is inundated with college kids.
We find a seafood store on the way back home and get a pound of shrimp for supper. It’s a day like few others we’ve had—no great site, no special plans. I sew a button back on, mend a shirt, watch a little TV, check things out on the internet. Shrimp for dinner then games at the clubhouse—poker and whatever. For me whatever is more euchre. Four of us play and it’s a chance to learn people’s story. One of the women at the table doesn’t even live in the park; she and her husband have a condo a few miles away. They lived here for a year and a half after selling all their household things in Arizona and planning to full-time in their RV. But they got here and one month turned into two and then three and the next thing you know it was a year and a half and they decided they didn’t’ really want to full-time after all, so they sold the RV and bought the condo. But by this time they had so many friends in the park—and most of these people have been coming here for years—that they spend a lot of time even now in the park. It’s the birthday of another person at the table and she keeps leaving to take calls from family and friends. She and her husband come down in December and will be here until April. The other woman at the table is a newbie—they have only come for the past 2 years.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Finally at the Shore--February 3
As we leave the campground our camp hostess stops us to check if our site was okay. We search for a Napa store; Ms Garmin can’t find it, but the iPhone can. Norb needs a socket to fit over our drain plug for the hot water tank. He needs to know that we can extract it again before we tighten it and fill the tank. We find a Napa in Demopolis and they have just what we need.
We travel the backroads of Alabama to the Mobile area, where we finally connect with an interstate. There is lots of water here! We cross the bay at Mobile and then head south for another 22 miles before we turn west to our RV park. We had tried to make a reservation at Gulf State Park. No go. We did get a reservation at Island Retreat RV Park in Gulf Shores. We check in, get a map, find out about everything going on (euchre tonight, a free cookout Thursday, a bike trail that goes right along the edge of the park) and head for our campsite. When we are ensconced we walk the perimeter and find that there are 2 other open spaces. The man parked next to us has been here since December and won’t head home to Michigan until April.
We go to the community center for Euchre. These people are all from the Midwest—Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio. There are 7 tables of 4 playing, and 2 ‘leftovers’. It’s a good way to meet the people in the park and have short, introductory conversations. You can tell a lot about people when you play cards with them, and we come away with an idea of who we might want to meet again. We walk home with Ed, our neighbor, and find out about good places to ride our bikes. Tomorrow they come off the back. I don’t care how cold it is. The weather has been a constant source of conversation because the forecast is for 28 degrees tonight.
Home again we play with connecting the TV to the cable, the first time this trip we have even thought about putting it on. But, hey, it’s there and it’s free. Now if only we had headphones for it so that I could read and Norb could watch.
We travel the backroads of Alabama to the Mobile area, where we finally connect with an interstate. There is lots of water here! We cross the bay at Mobile and then head south for another 22 miles before we turn west to our RV park. We had tried to make a reservation at Gulf State Park. No go. We did get a reservation at Island Retreat RV Park in Gulf Shores. We check in, get a map, find out about everything going on (euchre tonight, a free cookout Thursday, a bike trail that goes right along the edge of the park) and head for our campsite. When we are ensconced we walk the perimeter and find that there are 2 other open spaces. The man parked next to us has been here since December and won’t head home to Michigan until April.
We go to the community center for Euchre. These people are all from the Midwest—Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio. There are 7 tables of 4 playing, and 2 ‘leftovers’. It’s a good way to meet the people in the park and have short, introductory conversations. You can tell a lot about people when you play cards with them, and we come away with an idea of who we might want to meet again. We walk home with Ed, our neighbor, and find out about good places to ride our bikes. Tomorrow they come off the back. I don’t care how cold it is. The weather has been a constant source of conversation because the forecast is for 28 degrees tonight.
Home again we play with connecting the TV to the cable, the first time this trip we have even thought about putting it on. But, hey, it’s there and it’s free. Now if only we had headphones for it so that I could read and Norb could watch.
Aliceville German POW Camp--February 2
We continue to see lines of power trucks heading north and flat beds loaded with telephone poles. In Memphis we talked to a family from Kentucky that had come to Memphis because they didn’t have any power at home. Word is that another bad storm is heading toward the same area. We go to sleep Sunday night with rain on the roof and awake Monday to gray skies. The rain has passed on, but we take our time getting up. It is noon by the time we break camp, heading for Aliceville, AL where we plan to visit the Aliceville Museum, which has a German POW exhibit. Little Aliceville was about 2,500 souls when the POW camp opened in 1943. Some 6,000 Germans, most from Rommel’s Afrika Corps, and 1,000 US guards inhabited the town until the end of the war. The land was then sold off, buildings were carted off, the Germans were sent home, and it settled back to being 2,500 strong again. The museum has the story of the camp, items created by the German prisoners, news stores etc. We spend almost 3 hours there, chatting with the head of the board of the museum and a volunteer. I should say, Norb spends almost 3 hours. I tire after 2 and go out to the RV to read.
We are a day ahead of schedule since we couldn’t stop at our campground in the Missouri bootheel, so we decide to stop short of Mobile. Checking our Good Sam book we find a Corps of Engineers park near Demopolis, AL. Ms Garmin refuses to acknowledge its existence, so we flounder around for a while before stumbling upon it. The couple staffing the gate turn out to be interesting; they bid on the job, which is a year-long stint. They bid on how much they will get paid! Low bidder gets the job. They are leaving at the end of February for a new park because they were underbid on this park for next year. They work 4 days on, 4 days off, 6 AM to 10 PM. We ask how people find out about the park and he says it’s mainly word-of-mouth. It is possible to reserve on line but you need to know the park name to do it. He gives us brochures that show the various Corps parks in parts of the country, but I am puzzled as to how I will file them since they are by area, not by state. They give us a site right on the Tombigbee River, so that we can watch the barges go by. The cold front has moved in and by dark, when we are walking the campground, it is down to 45 degrees.
We are a day ahead of schedule since we couldn’t stop at our campground in the Missouri bootheel, so we decide to stop short of Mobile. Checking our Good Sam book we find a Corps of Engineers park near Demopolis, AL. Ms Garmin refuses to acknowledge its existence, so we flounder around for a while before stumbling upon it. The couple staffing the gate turn out to be interesting; they bid on the job, which is a year-long stint. They bid on how much they will get paid! Low bidder gets the job. They are leaving at the end of February for a new park because they were underbid on this park for next year. They work 4 days on, 4 days off, 6 AM to 10 PM. We ask how people find out about the park and he says it’s mainly word-of-mouth. It is possible to reserve on line but you need to know the park name to do it. He gives us brochures that show the various Corps parks in parts of the country, but I am puzzled as to how I will file them since they are by area, not by state. They give us a site right on the Tombigbee River, so that we can watch the barges go by. The cold front has moved in and by dark, when we are walking the campground, it is down to 45 degrees.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Elvis, Elmwood, and A&R--February 1
We decide that it is finally time to put water in the RV. Once done we head for Graceland, just next door to where we are parked. It’s not really Elvis Presley RV Park; it’s Graceland RV Park. We could walk to Gracland, if we wished.
We opt for the Platinum Ticket—no pikers, we. It gets us into 6 different venues rather than just the mansion. We bypass the picture opportunity, get our audio guides, and board the bus to go across the street. The tour is done at your own pace; nice. You can move through as quickly or as slowly as you wish. It’s all downstairs, which consists of living room, parents’ bedroom, dining room, kitchen, basement rec rooms, and the jungle room. “The upstairs was Elvis’ private area and we wish to respect his privacy.” The house was called Graceland when he purchased it at 22; at that time it was out in the country. No more. He added on the Jungle Room but in all it is a pretty modest abode, by comparison with what we read about today. Vernon’s office behind the house, the trophy room with yards and yards of gold records and costumes, and the racquetball court are part of the mansion tour. It’s pretty tacky with shag carpet on the walls and ceiling of the jungle room, lots of stained glass and glitter. But somehow you can picture Elvis in these spaces. Boy, did he love mirrors—ceiling, walls, no floors, though. The graves of Elvis, his parents, and his grandmother are also part of this tour. I had read that his middle name was Aron (thanks, crossword puzzles), but the gravestone says ‘Aaron’. Turns out that he thought it WAS Aron but his birth certificate says Aaron. His death certificate says Aron, which led many people to claim that the ‘real’ Elvis hadn’t died.
We also tour the Lisa Marie, the airplane he bought and outfitted for a million dollars. It features a living room, study/bedroom, Elvis’ bedroom, and 2 half baths. Not too shabby. He kept a pilot and crew on call 24 hours a day and once flew to Colorado so Lisa Marie could play in the snow for 15 minutes. He also flew a group to Denver for peanut butter sandwiches.
Roadfood.com recommended A&R for Memphis barbecue; their slogan, “Anybody can take the heat 2 the meat, but only a few can barbecue.” In true Memphis fashion, it comes with slaw on it, but we get a side of slaw anyway. Good barbecue, but Hecky’s is better.
Last stop in Memphis, Elmwood Cemetery. It is noted for its 4 sections: Confederate, Union, black, and white. It is one of thoese arboretum cemeteries with huge old trees and huge old monuments. Lessons learned: don’t try to take an 11’ RV into an old cemetery with overhanging trees. We try to follow the audio tour route (without the audio tour), figuring it was the most interesting but the trees do us in. We think we find a gypsy section because one of the gravestones has this 4 foot high drawing of gypsy caravans and a camp on it. We give up and head for Columbus, MS.
Ms Garmin is talking to us again, thanks to my update last night. My Mac is recharged. The sun is out. It is 60 degrees. Life is good. Once in Columbus, we look for a place to watch the Super Bowl. It is Club 509 on Main St, advertising 2 for 1 beers. Mississippi only allows beer sales on Sunday if you are a bar and not a resort. 509 has a tapas menu, perfect for watching the Super Bowl, and only 3 tables of watchers. And, hey, they have the 3D glasses so we can watch the half time commercial. What more could you ask for?
We opt for the Platinum Ticket—no pikers, we. It gets us into 6 different venues rather than just the mansion. We bypass the picture opportunity, get our audio guides, and board the bus to go across the street. The tour is done at your own pace; nice. You can move through as quickly or as slowly as you wish. It’s all downstairs, which consists of living room, parents’ bedroom, dining room, kitchen, basement rec rooms, and the jungle room. “The upstairs was Elvis’ private area and we wish to respect his privacy.” The house was called Graceland when he purchased it at 22; at that time it was out in the country. No more. He added on the Jungle Room but in all it is a pretty modest abode, by comparison with what we read about today. Vernon’s office behind the house, the trophy room with yards and yards of gold records and costumes, and the racquetball court are part of the mansion tour. It’s pretty tacky with shag carpet on the walls and ceiling of the jungle room, lots of stained glass and glitter. But somehow you can picture Elvis in these spaces. Boy, did he love mirrors—ceiling, walls, no floors, though. The graves of Elvis, his parents, and his grandmother are also part of this tour. I had read that his middle name was Aron (thanks, crossword puzzles), but the gravestone says ‘Aaron’. Turns out that he thought it WAS Aron but his birth certificate says Aaron. His death certificate says Aron, which led many people to claim that the ‘real’ Elvis hadn’t died.
We also tour the Lisa Marie, the airplane he bought and outfitted for a million dollars. It features a living room, study/bedroom, Elvis’ bedroom, and 2 half baths. Not too shabby. He kept a pilot and crew on call 24 hours a day and once flew to Colorado so Lisa Marie could play in the snow for 15 minutes. He also flew a group to Denver for peanut butter sandwiches.
Roadfood.com recommended A&R for Memphis barbecue; their slogan, “Anybody can take the heat 2 the meat, but only a few can barbecue.” In true Memphis fashion, it comes with slaw on it, but we get a side of slaw anyway. Good barbecue, but Hecky’s is better.
Last stop in Memphis, Elmwood Cemetery. It is noted for its 4 sections: Confederate, Union, black, and white. It is one of thoese arboretum cemeteries with huge old trees and huge old monuments. Lessons learned: don’t try to take an 11’ RV into an old cemetery with overhanging trees. We try to follow the audio tour route (without the audio tour), figuring it was the most interesting but the trees do us in. We think we find a gypsy section because one of the gravestones has this 4 foot high drawing of gypsy caravans and a camp on it. We give up and head for Columbus, MS.
Ms Garmin is talking to us again, thanks to my update last night. My Mac is recharged. The sun is out. It is 60 degrees. Life is good. Once in Columbus, we look for a place to watch the Super Bowl. It is Club 509 on Main St, advertising 2 for 1 beers. Mississippi only allows beer sales on Sunday if you are a bar and not a resort. 509 has a tapas menu, perfect for watching the Super Bowl, and only 3 tables of watchers. And, hey, they have the 3D glasses so we can watch the half time commercial. What more could you ask for?
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