3 June 2016: Mt. Rushmore

IMG_0551 (Custom)

IMG_0542 (Custom) IMG_0543 (Custom)

Mt. Rushmore, as a scenic view, is so well known that, although we took approximately one hundred photographs, none of them, except for our presence in the images, show anything not seen countless times before. What photographs do not show, though, is the reason that Mt. Rushmore even exists, something I guess I had never really paused to consider. Unlike other national monuments that exist to preserve physical beauty, or as a refuge for wild animals, Mt. Rushmore exists not to restrain certain human tendencies but to celebrate and encourage certain human tendencies. Mt. Rushmore’s mission is patriotism, but not in some simplistic form of nationalism. It is based on the concept that there really is something unique about American ideals, and Mt. Rushmore depicts four presidents each of whom, in ways that are different but complementary, assured the success of a grand American experiment. It is, in essence, American exceptionalism carved into stone.

Through dozens of exhibits and lectures, this theme emerges. The connection of Washington and Jefferson to American ideals is obvious. “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights…,” and that governments derive legitimacy only by “consent of the governed,” were radical views then and probably only slightly less radical now. Catherine Drinker Bowen’s Miracle At Philadelphia made a point that has never left me: the American revolution was the only revolution in history instituted not by the “have-nots” but by the “haves,” privileged people who had everything to lose and nothing to gain except fidelity to what they viewed as a moral duty to pledge their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to philosophical principles.

The exhibits at Mt. Rushmore also make the point that Jefferson actually gets double credit, adding to his role in the founding of the country the accomplishment of doubling the size of the country by one stroke of the pen, expressing his commitment that the American experiment would apply not just in lands originally signing on in 1789, but by projection to everywhere that American influence could come to bear.

Lincoln’s entitlement to presence on Mt. Rushmore is also self-evident. The Mt. Rushmore message is plain: whatever differences we may have, we cannot and will not ever tolerate deviation from our founding ideals, and that our unity on those points, the unity of our Union, trumps contrary views, no matter how sincerely (or lawfully) held. Lines from the Gettysburg address abound at Mt. Rushmore, conveying the theme that as to people who die in pursuit of American ideals, “these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Teddy Roosevelt’s entitlement was less clear to me, so upon arrival I asked the ranger. What he told me, and then what we saw again and again in the exhibits and displays, is that Roosevelt embodied that idea that American ideals would survive only if manifested in action. Everything that Roosevelt did, from the “trust busting,” to the expansion of American military power, to the brokering of peace accords, and even conservation of precious national resources, was based on his view that ideals are too fragile, too easily lost in the pressures of unrestrained commerce and other forces, to be left to carry on only in the abstract. The essential democratic nature of national parks, for example, was not just a few spectacular vistas; there needed to be tangible preservation in thousands of instances (230 million acres to be precise) making it plain this is our country, our land, and we, the people, own it for our benefit and the benefit of our children.

Over and over again, these themes came through. But it wasn’t just the exhibits and displays. One more thing. Every night, there is an “illumination ceremony,” where there is a powerful symbol: in the stark blackness of the universe, while “American the Beautiful” plays in the background, a light shines suddenly on the men who created, preserved, and assured the success of the American ideals.

IMG_0557

At the conclusion of that, all members of the military, active and veterans, are invited to come down to the stage for the lowering of the flag. The ranger, a former Marine, announces to the audience, “Ladies and Gentlemen, these men and women were willing to put their lives on the line for the sake of American ideals expressed by these presidents, and we should honor them for that now.” The entire audience applauded, really, as the a few dozen veterans made their way to the stage, and after the colors were retired, each veteran was introduced to the audience by name, branch, and rank.

Wendy made an important point. During the entire evening ceremony, all of the audience was attentive and respectful, even the teenagers. She noted that most of the young people could probably tell you something about Washington and Lincoln, maybe a few would have something to say about Jefferson, and it’s likely that not many could say anything about Teddy Roosevelt. Still, they sat there, absorbing all of this (even if dragged their by their parents), the message recurring, over and over. It has often been said that American ideals are always within one generation of disappearing, but after experiencing Mt. Rushmore, it is easy to be confident that in the future, those who were here will hear an echo of the Mt. Rushmore experience, and in that faint recollection will do whatever it takes to assure the essential American character will never “perish from this earth.”

1-2 June 2016: Badlands National Park

We’re here, and all I can say is that this place is fake. Really, it’s not an actual, natural, environment. It’s a fabrication done by some anonymous author who thought it would be fun to make a weird and synthetic landscape. Even the National Geographic guidebook to national parks says the same thing, describing the sights presented by the Badlands as “theatrical.” Exactly. Like the matte for a 1950s, grade-B, science fiction film, like maybe Amazon Women From Venus or something.

Imagine a 100-mile long block of rock, consisting of layers of sedimentary deposits and volcanic ash, eroded at breakneck pace (at least by geological standards), up to one inch per year, over a very short period of time (500,000 years), leaving hundreds of thousands of fantastic ridges, cliffs, pinnacles, and gullies. The Badlands starts suddenly on the plains, so suddenly that explorers to the north didn’t even know it existed, and disappears just as suddenly. And the geological process is so rapid that in another 100,000 to 500,000 years it will all be gone.

20160601 Badlands IMG_0473 (Custom)
Imagine miles and miles of this, plopped down in the middle of the prairie for, as near as we can tell, absolutely no good reason.

So, after setting up at the Cedar Pass campground, we traipsed off to the visitor center, learned about this strange and awe-some place (hyphenated to convey the actual meaning), and then spent the afternoon exploring the area.

20160601 Badlands IMG_0471 (Custom)
In the Badlands, discovering once again an unexpected but fortuitous truth of exploring national parks. At this point we are only 800 meters (one-half mile) scrambling on an easy rock trail from the end of the Door Trail boardwalk, and we basically have the place to ourselves. National parks are “crowded” only along narrow strips adjacent to roadways. Go figure.

That night it was off to the evening ranger program on archeology in the grasslands, and then, still trying to adjust to the mountain time zone, and still exhausted from driving the profile-equivalent of a billboard for 250 miles in winds at 20 mph, gusting to 30, we collapsed, happy as ever to be in such a strange and wonderful place.

The next day started with two hikes, although hiking in Badlands is based on a different concept. The park is entirely open; people are free to walk wherever they want, climb whatever rocks they can, and generally explore without rules or limits. Not being so adventurous, though, we stuck to a few of only about a half-dozen marked trails. The first hike, the “Notch Trail,” was recommended by Robert, about 0.8 miles each way, although there was an obstacle to be surmounted first:

20160602 Badlands IMG_0482 (Custom)

But it ended with a spectacular view, through “the notch,” to the White River valley below:

20160602 Badlands IMG_0676 (Custom)

Then it was a 4.1-mile hike out into the grasslands, although even on that footpath, we found ourselves meandering through what might be called “badlands in the making”: rapidly eroding terrain creating deep gullies.

20160602 Badlands IMG_0677 (Custom)

20160602 Badlands IMG_0491 (Custom) 20160602 Badlands IMG_0500 (Custom)

20160602 Badlands IMG_0503 (Custom)

Then, after lunch, it was a driving tour around the rest of the park, where we saw bison, pronghorn antelope, bighorn sheep, and, of course, countless prairie dog towns.

20160602 Badlands IMG_0508 (Custom)  20160602 Badlands IMG_0513 (Custom)

20160602 Badlands IMG_0526 (Custom)

20160602 Badlands IMG_0518 (Custom)
Maybe it’s just me, but the upper row of spires looks a lot like a Gothic cathedral’s depictions of a line of saints. Or maybe this is what happens to people after a few days in the Badlands.

Then, just to confirm the theatricality of the whole experience, as we left the park and found ourselves stopped at a road constructions site, someone (either the Park Superintendent or God, I’m not sure which), arranged for a small group of bison to pose in a nice lineup at the entrance sign.

20160602 Badlands IMG_0524 - Copy

So that ends the Badlands portion of the trip. But first, one small digression. Once again we are struck by the nature of the camping population: lots of young couples camping in tents, families in pop-ups (including one with FOUR boys all aged five or under, which is way too many boys by anyone’s reckoning), tourists in rented Class C’s, and old farts like us in motorhomes, ranging from smallish (like ours) to full-sized luxury units. Everyone is out, hiking and exploring the area, being captivated by the ranger talks, and chatting with nearby campers, comparing experiences. It’s a whole subculture, mostly of families. We recently watched the Ken Burns National Parks series, and one recurring theme of that series struck a chord with us: time and again, the commentators remarked that they came to love the outdoors because their parents or grandparents took them camping, and they’ve taken their children, and now the grandchildren are going too. So, looking around us we don’t see so much of a campground as the continuation of a legacy, and it warms our hearts.

Tomorrow we’re off to Mount Rushmore. Further posts to follow.

26-31 May 2016: Miles, miles, and more miles…

So, here’s the story… Most of the places we want to see, in general and for this trip in particular and for the trip we are planning for next summer, are all “out west.” They call it “out west” because it’s way out west from the east, which is where we live, which means to see the places we traveling to see, we have to drive and drive and drive before we even get started. I guess that’s perfectly obvious to anyone who has ever seen a map of the U.S., but the reality of that indisputable truth is that we are experiencing a kind of travel that is new to us: hit the road, drive for a while, walk the dogs, drive for a while, have lunch and walk the dogs, drive for a while, walk the dogs, drive for a while to a stopping place, walk the dogs, set up, have dinner, walk the dogs, and then go to bed. Repeat over and over again for days on end, and then start the vacation.

And the stopping places are just that. Places to temporarily stop the aforementioned travel routine. So far, they’re basically just parking lots, cheek to jowl with RVs, with electrical and plumbing connections sticking up between the sites. In other words, these are definitely not the kinds of destination campgrounds we would travel to for the atmosphere they offer.

20160529 Nebraska City NE IMG_0449 (Small)
One of our “stopping places.” This one happens to be in Nebraska City, NE, but it doesn’t matter. They’re all basically indistinguishable.

So, this phase of the trip must be awful, right? Wrong. In fact, it’s compelling. Northern Alabama was beautiful; driving through Arkansas and Missouri gave us chances to watch crop dusters in action (certainly the last of a dying breed); southern Missouri is a surprisingly picturesque terrain of gentle rolling hills. Southaven, Mississippi, a suburb of Memphis, is the opposite of picturesque, unimaginable in its sprawling ugliness, crass consumerism, and endless traffic. And that was contrasted the next day by historical St. Charles, Missouri, with charming shops and restaurants, a huge Memorial Day party along with river, and the Lewis and Clark Boat House and Nature Center, a fine local museum marking the place where the Corps of Discovery assembled and began their trip “out west” (that term again, although going “out west” had a degree of reality to them that far exceeds what confronts us). And traveling along, as we criss-cross the Lewis & Clark route, we’ve been listening to Undaunted Courage, which not only passes the miles, but it serves as a historical commentary to the area we’re traversing.

20160528 Lewis-Clark IMG_0445 (Custom)
At the Lewis & Clark museum in St. Charles, Wendy in front of a “bull boat” (a hickory frame covered with a buffalo hide), a contraption used by some members of the Corps to float down the Yellowstone River. The Sioux word for this craft is tkitch’ka, which means “inner tube for the great waters.”

And then there are places that are just weird. Like the world’s only “corn palace” in Mitchell, SD.

20160530 Mitchell SD IMG_0454 (Custom)
The “Corn Palace,” an auditorium decorated (and regularly redecorated) with “art work” done entirely in corn cobs. That it’s the only such facility in the world seems not so surprising.

20160530 Mitchell SD IMG_0457 (Custom)

Each and every one of these experiences is, for reasons hard to capture, a memorable part of  the trip, even if we weren’t enroute to the “real” end points.

We’ve had the usual number of challenges, like we decided we didn’t trust the transmission pump for the toad and rented a U-Haul tow dolly for peace of mind. (For the non-cognoscenti, a “toad” is a vehicle that is “towed” behind a motorhome.) Nothing major so far and, as explained in the post describing the breakdowns on one Florida trip, for some reason a “challenge” on a road trip is utterly inconsequential. Especially so for a trip like this.

So, after 1375 miles spread over 4-1/2 days of driving, tomorrow we head to the first destination worthy of that word, seeing as how the words “destination” and “destiny” share the same etymology: Badlands National Park. Further posts to follow.

May 2016: The Big Trip

The “Big Trip” starts tomorrow. Well, it sort of started last weekend with a small trip. As we’ve done several times, we headed over to a Corps of Engineers campground, 5.1 miles away, for a weekend of camping with the Little Darlings. And once again, Cliff joined us with his pop-up.

20160521 CAK West Point Lake (Custom)  20160521 EAK West Point Lake (Custom)

Jennifer’s photo album pretty much tells the story: West Point Lake Camping – 2016. Someday, though, I’ll try to figure out why “The Cousins” (as they call themselves) think that the most enjoyable aspect of camping at the lake is digging “canals” along the shoreline (fitting, perhaps, since we’re at a Corps of Engineers campground?), getting caked in mud in the process. Really? Canals?

20160521 Cousins (Custom)

So, having said goodbye to the local family, we’re prepared to head out cross-country to see the other part of the family. Outbound, it’s a sixteen-day trip, with stops including Badlands National Park (never been there), Mt. Rushmore (never been there either), Devils Tower, (ditto), and Little Big Horn (ditto again), before arriving for a three-week stay in Olympia, Washington.

2016 Western Trip Outbound

We’ve prepared ourselves for the trip by watching the Ken Burn series on the National Parks, reading Custer and Crazy Horse by Stephen Ambrose, loading Undaunted Courage into our audio player to listen to as we drive out, and reviewing and completing sixteen pages of checklists. Seriously. Eisenhower launched D-Day with fewer checklists and not half so much logistical preparation.

And words can’t convey how excited we are about this trip. Sure, going out to see the new grandbaby is nice, but with eight grandchildren, I mean, who cares? I’m reminded of the Ogden Nash poem, written after the birth of a similar number of his own children: “Is it a girl, or is it the reverse? How should I know? Call the hospital and ask the nurse.” But traveling around the country, seeing as much as we can of the places that are worth seeing, has been a dream of ours for nearly 44 years! It’s what kept us going through decades of a rewarding-but-demanding profession, the exigencies of twenty-five years of child-rearing, and the myriad episodes in the unfolding story of our family.

So, further posts will follow once we complete the hurry-up-and-get-someplace-good phase of the outbound trip, sometime in the next week or so.

[Self-preservation footnote: OK, so I’m kidding about the newest grandchild. Sheesh.]

2-7 April 2016: Disney Traditions

As described in our camping history, one of our very special camping traditions as the kids grew up was an annual Thanksgiving trip to the Fort Wilderness campground at Walt Disney World. At one level, of course, it’s hard for a trip that combines camping and Walt Disney World not to be special. We’d always spend at least one day at the Magic Kingdom (which the kids loved), where we’d have Thanksgiving dinner at the Crystal Palace restaurant. Back in those days, Walt Disney World was essentially deserted on Thanksgiving day. (I understand that now it’s one of the busiest of the year.) And we’d spend one day at Epcot (which they also loved). And we’d take a day or two doing nothing but hanging around the campground (which they may have loved the most), where we would ride bikes, play at the petting zoo, go to Hoop-Dee-Doo Review or the Chip-n-Dale chocolate chip pancake breakfast, drive the little racing boats, go to the evening movie and campfire, ride horses, play on the beach, and I can’t remember what else. Given Disney’s commitment to excellence, those family camping vacations could not possibly have been anything but incredible.

19901120-03 Ft. Wilderness (Custom)  19871125-01 Ft.Wilderness (Custom)

19901120-05 Ft. Wilderness (Custom)
Tiki lights, fanny packs, and ugly sweaters: Ah, the 80’s….

With that in mind, it should not be surprising that son number 1, who about a year ago joined the camping ranks with his own pop-up camper for his family, immediately set his sights on a camping trip to Fort Wilderness.

So, off we go! Cliff and the girls got an early start (his wife, very pregnant, staying home). (I’ve learned that men should never, ever refer to pregnancy as a “lame excuse.”) We left a little behind him in ACE, and all of us met up at the half-way point, a Moody Air Force Base MWR campground in Lake Park, Georgia.

20160402 Grassy Pond IMG_0322 (Small)  20160402 Grassy Pond IMG_0324 (Small)

Next day, off to Disney. Cliff raced ahead and we took the girls in ACE, so that he could get there early, snag a couple adjacent sites, and otherwise get things set up for when we would arrive, about 30 minutes behind him.

20160403 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0327 (Small)  20160403 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0328 (Small)

I know I go on and on about Walt Disney World, but here’s another thought. Fort Wilderness is basically, well, what a campground would be if it were designed and operated by Disney. Imagine the same guys who did the Magic Kingdom sitting around and one of them says, “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s do a campground!” Imagine what a campground built to Magic Kingdom specs would be like! As you would expect, the “campground” (that word seems inadequate) is essentially an inexhaustible supply of activities, events, and facilities:

  • There are two pools, one of which consists of a big pool with a twisting high-speed water slide, a wading pool for toddlers, and a water play area with fountains and little slides for pre-schoolers. The larger pool has several life guards, who are conspicuously observant and diligent. A snack bar is adjacent to the pool. And during the day there are half a dozen games, contests, and other organized children activities.
  • There’s a nightly sing-a-long musical show with Chip and Dale, followed by a campfire and s’mores roast, followed by a Disney movie shown on an outdoor screen.
  • There are archery events, horseback rides, carriage and hay wagon rides, and pony rides (on, of all things, Cinderella’s actual ponies).
  • There’s a nightly light show on the lake, followed by fireworks. And the marina at the lake also offers boat shuttles to various resorts, pontoon boat rentals, and rentals for little speed boats that older kids can drive themselves.
  • There’s hiking and biking on a 2.5-mile trail that connects Fort Wilderness to the Disney Wilderness Lodge resort; fishing in several ponds; playgrounds galore; tennis courts; tetherball thingies; at least one dog park; separate paths for walking and biking; free shuttle buses that run every few minutes to ferry campers not only to all of the campground activities, but to the transportation area where other buses connect to the resorts.
  • There’s an onsite restaurant and tavern, along with two dinner shows, the Hoop-Dee-Doo Revue and Mickey’s Backyard BBQ.
  • And lots more that I can’t even think of. And remember, this is a campground! I haven’t even gotten to the theme parks yet.

On top of all of this, there is ample staff, all of whom are courteous and helpful. Even more, Disney refers to its employees as “cast members,” and the designation is apt. The staff, even down to the cleaning crews, are part of the entertainment experience, and they know it, and they act like it.

So, enough of that. After setting up on the first day, we just hung around in the campground.

20160403 Ft. Wilderness IMG_2504 (Small) 20160403 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0329 (Small)

20160403 Ft. Wilderness IMG_2530 (Small)
Campfire and s’mores, while we wait for the Chip and Dale sing-a-long and Disney movie.

Next day, it was off to the Magic Kingdom.

20160404 Magic Kingdom IMG_7560 (Small)

20160404 Magic Kingdom IMG_0351 (Small) 20160404 Magic Kingdom IMG_0352 (Small) 20160404 Magic Kingdom IMG_0355 (Small) 20160404 Magic Kingdom IMG_2556 (Small)

And the day after that was spent just enjoying the options at the campground the campground…

20160405 Ft. Wilderness IMG_7592 (Small)  20160405 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0364 (Small)

…before heading off to Mickey’s Backyard BBQ. I’ve been through Disney experiences for almost 60 years (since I first visited Disneyland in 1958), and Mickey’s Backyard BBQ is by far the best child-oriented Disney experience I’ve ever seen.

20160405 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0369 (Small)

I think this video captures why the Disney experience in general, and the Ft. Wilderness experience in particular, and the Mickey’s Backyard BBQ experience in even more particularity, seem to me to constitute the perfect experience for families. First of all, it just plain fun for the kids. They get to sing, and dance, and clap hands, and stomp around, and be silly, and let their imaginations run wild, and just generally be kids, all in a way that must be increasingly rare for them in today’s over-structured, high-pressure world that they live in. Second, watching all of that is just unbounded amusement for the grownups. Really. In fact, if you don’t find an experience like that to be fun, check your pulse–you’re probably dead.

Finally, on our last full day, we did something that was just perfect for the occasion: nothing. We spent a large part of the day on the beach, where we had a picnic lunch and the girls spent hours filling up zip-lock bags with sand and pouring them out to create a, well, giant sand cone.

20160406 Ft. Wilderness (Small)  20160406 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0370 (Small)

20160406 Ft. Wilderness IMG_2583 (Custom)
Touring the stables where the draft horses are kept. These are BIG, like B-I-G, like 2000-pound big, Clydesdale, Percheron, and Belgian horses. And no flies. Disney has a corporate policy against horse flies in the stables.

Well, we did do one thing. We took the girls on a pony ride, with Vivian on Rapunzel’s pony and Ansley on one of Cinderella’s ponies.

20160406 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0380 (Small)  20160406 Ft. Wilderness IMG_0389 (Small)

The album for this Disney trip can be found here: Disney 2016 Album.

So, we’ve already started planning the next trip, maybe even a “family reunion” at Ft. Wilderness. We’ve got another trip already scheduled in October, which may work out to get some of the family there, or maybe it waits until we’re all in the same quadrant. Either way, we’ll be back!

(P.S. My comments about “lame excuses” not withstanding, Summer did a great job planning our Magic Kingdom visit, getting the right FastPass+ tickets and staying up until all hours preparing, no kidding, a scheduling spreadsheet of what attractions to see at the Magic Kingdom. She was definitely on the trip in spirit!)

16-20 March 2016: One More Time-Another FMCA Convention

So, I keep saying that these sorts of things really aren’t my cup of tea, yet I keep going back. What gives? I’m not sure, but I may be wrong on the cup-of-tea thing. At least in part.

20160316 IMG_0636 (Small)
I had to fly the Army flag … too many Navy flags around to let the challenge go unanswered.

A big part of RV rallies is definitely not me: I don’t do the social things, crafts, or games. But there are aspects of these rallies that definitely are valuable. This year, for example, I attended seminars on RV insurance (two), WiFi enhancements, suspension components, satellite television, and how to handle mail while on the road. All of those were extremely useful. And I visited booths to chat up the vendors regarding hitches and tow bars, satellite receiver mounts, WiFi boosters, campgrounds, accessories, and transmission performance enhancements. Again, all useful (even if “useful” in the sense of informing me about what I don’t want). And, on top of all of that, the RV community comprises people that are more than willing to share experiences, good and bad, about brands, upgrades, options, accessories, and travels. Getting together with a few thousand chatty, experienced, like-minded people is a good way to shortcut the learning curve.

20160316 FMCA Perry Aerial (Small)
Georgia State Fairgrounds (Perry, Georgia) with well over 2000 motor homes scattered about.

Plus, within limited spheres, even the social aspect is OK. I attended the Military Veterans Chapter dinner (and volunteered to be chapter treasurer), and enjoyed sitting around with some hams talking about radio stuff (even though the Amateur Radio Chapter didn’t have a meeting).

Wendy was still laid up with the foot annoyance, and the experience would have been better had she been there. But will we go to other rallies (both FMCA conventions and chapter rallies) in the future? We’ve already decided that it would be appropriate to go to these large-scale conventions every couple years or so (assuming they’re somewhat in the neighborhood), plus chapter rallies whenever convenient. So, maybe we do indeed like this kind of tea in our cups.

February 2016: Epilogue

Now, back from the Florida excursion, it’s time to grade ourselves on how we did.

Early bailout: A. Exactly the right decision. As noted before, it is tremendously liberating to be free to make the right call at any given moment, free from constraints imposed by external considerations. By the time we got home, Wendy’s foot plainly called for attention and had we been sitting around at Chokoloskee Island, basically crippled at the campground with little to do but stare at the mangroves, we would have been scolding ourselves for not being smarter and heading home.

20160221 WWK IMG_0292 (Small)
Wendy, foot propped up and stretched out on the fold-away couch, where she rode like Cleopatra on her barge, traveling back to Atlanta. (The 14 hours of lap time for the dogs worked for them too.)

Trip Planning: B. Each stop in our itinerary presents several factors for evaluation: the locale of the stop (what is there to do in the area?), the campground itself, and the duration of the stop. Evaluating the stop, though, isn’t as simple as a weighted average of the scores for those three factors.

During our trip, we met, as you would expect, a number of snowbirds. These folks often stayed at a single location for months, maybe as many as six. A campground with scores of long-term residents becomes less of a “campground” and more of a retirement community. We’ve always thought of ourselves as traveling to see and do things near the campground, not participating in activities in the campground, which means that, for all practical purposes, we’d never want to stay somewhere for more than a week or two. Even in Yellowstone, for goodness sake, one would exhaust the activities in a matter of a few weeks, not months. And we’ve never seen ourselves as going someplace in order to play shuffleboard, pickleball, golf, bingo, or Texas Hold’Em. That, in turn, means that heading south for the winter means we either need to keep moving every week or two (and rarely repeating the stops from one year to the next) or we need to change our expectations and spend time enjoying living in an annual retirement community that blooms for a while and then disappears.

Or maybe that’s not the right way to think about it. In brick and mortar homes, we all have things we enjoy doing. Many RVers just continue doing those same things on the road. We met guys who play golf and go fishing while they travel, just as they would at home. I met a guy who brings his radio-controlled model aircraft with him. I’ve even heard of a guy who brings his model railroad setup with him.

So, as to this trip, which was it? A number of quick stops in succession, seeing the local sites, or longer stays, relaxing, staying warm, and doing what we like doing while there? The plan didn’t actually do either as well as I would have liked. At several stops (Cedar Key and the Everglades, for example), we didn’t schedule enough time for local sights. At Naples, I didn’t schedule enough time for internal activities. And at others (the would-be stop at Chokoloskee Island, for example), I can’t figure out what I was thinking when I booked the stop for as long as I did.

We’re planning next year’s trip, and we’re still gravitating towards the series-of-stops concept, but the jury is out. We may want to try a longer-term stop at an activity-intensive campground, just to see if it fits us.

Living in a Confined Space: A. When we tell people we spent a month in a 10’x20′ box, we are often asked how it is that we didn’t kill each other. Maybe it’s just us, or maybe Wendy harbors some secret plan that will someday put an end to these postings, but we were fine. We never felt cramped, never got on each others’ nerves (much), and never longed for the trip to end. Even in our smallish RV (at least by Class A standards) there seemed to be plenty of room for living. Based on this trip, I think it’s more likely Wendy will kill me at home than in ACE, so I count this aspect of the trip as a lifespan-enhancing success.

Overall: A. The trip was wonderful. We enjoyed every place we went. Cedar Key was a great first stop, the side trips in Sarasota were fun, the Naples RV resort was luxurious and the Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary was a special treat, Everglades National Park was everything we hoped it would be, and the last stop at the Miami-Everglades resort gave us a perfect opportunity to pick off a few final checklist items and wind down before returning. The weather was cooler than we hoped for, and indeed was unusually cold, wet, and windy, but it was still way warmer than in Atlanta, so we count that as a success. And the RV people we met along the way were were, as always, friendly and engaging, and at every stop we found something special about the folks we met.

It is a testament to how good the trip was that when we returned we immediately started planning our 2-1/2 month trip out west this summer!

[Before then, we have a quick trip to an FMCA rally in Perry, Georgia, to tend to a few motorhome matters, and then a trip to Walt Disney World with Cliff, who will be hauling down his pop-up and treating the girls to their first Fort Wilderness experience. Further reports to follow.]

February 2016: Miami, FL

Well, it’s not exactly Miami. Miami-Everglades RV Park is just outside the eastern boundary of Everglades, and we thought it would be a suitable location to explore those aspects of the Everglades that we missed while at Flamingo (like the Shark River tram tour), plus Biscayne National Park, plus being a lookie-loo at places like South Beach. And maybe even a day trip down to the Keys somewhere. Or, if I got really bold, I was toying with the idea of a ranger-guided “wet walk” through the Cyprus swamp in the Big Cyprus National Preserve (not Wendy’s cup of tea). From here, we’d head to Chokoloskee, then Lake Okeechobee, then The Villages, then home.

20160217 Miami IMG_0289 (Custom)
Miami-Everglades RV Park: a little crowded, but basically fine. An OK destination for escaping Atlanta winters and we plan on coming back, maybe even next winter.

Great plan. Except that we had to flush it. Here’s the deal. We’re basically old geezers. Proof? We’ve got Social Security, Medicare, and we’ve developed an irresistible urge to play shuffleboard. And one more thing: we now have “afflictions.” You’ve probably noticed that when geezers get together, they engage in a social ritual of sharing stories about their afflictions, using words that have no functional significance for anyone less than 60 years old, words like “sacroiliac,” “presbycusis,” “incontinence,” “prolapse,” “stroke” (not rowing-related), “joint” (not marijuana-related), and so on. It’s great fun, especially when combined with another ritual of showing each other one’s surgical scars and swollen body parts. [On edit: my sister-in-law tells me that in their community, these sessions of sharing afflictions are referred to as “organ recitals.” An apt designation!] So, we thought that talking about afflictions would be a great way to slide into senior living until we realized that talking about our afflictions means having afflictions, which is not fun.

Ever since we left, and actually before we left, Wendy had been nursing a minor foot problem that she had resolved to get addressed after we returned. Unfortunately, while on the trip it turned into an “affliction.” We were able to work around it up through the Everglades stop, but by the time we got here it had progressed into an Affliction, with a capital “A.”

So, it’s basically time to bail out. We’ve had a chance to do some things around here, checking off a few stops, like a trip back to the Everglades visitor center, to the Biscayne National Park visitor center (one of the best we’ve ever seen), a drive down to Key Largo, and generally relaxing. We had a great time at a pot luck soup dinner, where Wendy brought her jambalaya, and which was a great hit. We can also check off having a Type 2 Breakdown, as enumerated previously. But we’ve done essentially all of the major things we wanted to do on the Florida trip as originally planned, and not hanging around here with a Nagging Affliction makes a lot of sense. Better to disengage than to push a bad position.

And here’s the good news: being retired means that there’s no pressure to do something just because it’s on The Schedule. We now control The Schedule, rather than The Schedule controlling us. Of all the aspects of retirement we’ve encountered so far, that has got to be the most liberating!

February 2016: Everglades National Park

Forty-four years. Forty-four years ago, when Wendy and I were traveling around the country, without an agenda, with nothing to do but to enjoy each other and this country, staying in national and state parks as we traveled eastward, we promised each other, “We’ll do this again someday.” And here we are. It looks like this will be the year when we see national parks spanning the country from the Everglades to Glacier. And not only are we embarking at long last on fulfilling a decades-old promise, we are doing so in the centennial year of the National Parks system.

Everglades National Park is a fitting beginning, different from anything we’ve ever done before. While most national parks were established to preserve some dramatic panorama for future generations of visitors (imagine Teddy Roosevelt seeing Yellowstone for the first time), Everglades was established solely to protect an ecosystem. Over 1.5 million acres of what is essentially a slow-moving river (only 1/4-mile per day), a “river of grass,” as is said, 60 miles wide and only a few inches deep, flowing from Lake Okeechobee southward towards Florida Bay.

20160214 Everglades IMG_0254 (2)

After a quick stop at the visitor center at the entrance, we drove the 38 miles to the Flamingo campground, visitor center, and marina.

20160214 Everglades IMG_0231 (Custom)
Set up at Flamingo Campground. (And yes, I did set up my ham radio station, although I only had time to operate for a few minutes.)

And once here, we wasted no time in doing what we like best about such places: visiting the educational displays, attending the ranger talks, and generally exploring what makes each national park worthy of its stature.

But here, because the Everglades does not exist to preserve things worth seeing, experiencing the Everglades is different than the western parks we’ll visit this summer. Here, the experience is quieter and subtler. It is not less spiritual, but spiritual in a difference sense, not so much standing in awe of the grandeur of creation but more marveling at the intricacy and complexity of the created order in its hidden spaces. As one of the rangers said, the Everglades “whispers” its message.

20160214 Everglades IMG_0253 (Custom)
The “river of grass” at the Snake River slough, “only” 6 miles wide.
20160214 Everglades IMG_0256 (Custom)
At Snake River slough, a barred owl hooting away back in a thicket.

One day we tour a boat tour through the mangroves lining the Buttonwood Canal, through Coot Bay, and into Whitewater Bay.

20160214 Everglades IMG_0261 (Custom)  20160214 Everglades IMG_0262 (Custom)

20160214 Everglades IMG_0265 (Custom)
Baby American Crocodile, and no one even noticed his big brother behind him!

20160214 Everglades IMG_0267 (Custom)
The deadly Manchineel tree: “Standing beneath the tree during rain will cause blistering of the skin from mere contact with this liquid (even a small drop of rain with the milky substance in it will cause the skin to blister). … ingestion [of the sweet, apple-like fruit] may produce severe gastroenteritis with bleeding, shock, bacterial superinfection, and the potential for airway compromise due to edema. … Juan Ponce de León was struck by an arrow that had been poisoned with Manchineel sap during battle with the Calusa in Florida, dying shortly thereafter.”
And we even did a ranger-guided canoe trip on a five-mile canoe trail out and back from Nine-Mile Lake. The trip provided a bit of comic relief since, firstly, we are old, feeble geezers who don’t know how to paddle a canoe, and secondly, the wind was howling at 15 miles per hour, gusting to 25, which meant the canoe frequently got caught by the wind and headed sideways into the swamp. Still, it was a great morning.

20160215 Everglades IMG_0275 (Custom)  20160215 Everglades IMG_0277 (Custom)

20160215 Everglades IMG_7376 (Custom)

We also “experienced” the Everglades in one of its less appealing aspects: mosquitos. We’re told that this is an “unusual” winter. It may be. This winter has been wetter than usual (normal rainfall in January is 2.5 inches, but this year it was 12.5 inches), and one can imagine that the surplus of standing water has given the little suckers a windfall of breeding sites. Either way, we ventured out only when slathered with DEET and the first few moments inside the camper were always spent trying to clap in mid-air fast enough to squish the little beasts between our palms.

We took advantage of one surprising opportunity for a side trip to the old Nike missile base, now a historical site within the Park.

For people of my era, the cold war, and in particular the Cuban missile crisis, is not only part of our history, it is part of our being. It’s easy to joke about the backyard bomb shelters and the “duck and cover” drills in elementary school, but I remember, at the height of the Cuban missile crisis, going with my mom to the grocery store, and everything was gone. Everything. I stood there seeing nothing but empty shelves. No milk, no produce, no bread, no canned goods. Nothing. And even as a twelve-year old, I was convinced that war was upon us. Fireballs were going to light up the sky, and for those not immolated by blasts, it was going to be a nasty battle for survival. Memories like that formed us all, and they are part of us even today.

The crisis started in October 1962 when U2 spy planes overflying Cuba saw that the Soviet Union had installed short- and medium-range missile bases in Cuba. A missile launched from Cuba could hit Washington D.C. in 13 minutes. The nuclear warheads for those missiles were on Soviet ships headed for Cuba, and Kennedy imposed a “quarantine” (that is, a blockade) around Cuba and threatened to destroy any Soviet ship that tried to run the blockade. The Soviets said they viewed the blockade as an act of war (it is), that they had every intention of running the blockade, and would use any means necessary, including nuclear weapons, to protect their freedom to navigate the seas. Kennedy then issued his famous threat that any use of nuclear weapons against anywhere in the western hemisphere would be met with an unlimited retaliatory counterstrike on the Soviet Union. The situation was escalating to the point that the very end of civilization was seemingly inevitable.

During this time, south Florida was the scene of a military buildup not seen since World War II. Hundreds of military trucks driving down the streets, military bombers landing at every airport available, and trucks and trains carrying missiles arriving every day. Even as the crisis subsided, we all realized that the threat to our very existence could come from as close as sixty miles south. In 1965, the National Park Service gave permission to the Defense Department to build a Nike missile base inside the Park to guard against that threat. That base survives today as a historical site: Nike Missile Base HM-69.

20160215 Everglades-Nike IMG_0280 (Custom)  20160215 Everglades-Nike IMG_0282 (Custom)

20160215 Everglades-Nike IMG_0283 (Custom)

20160215 Everglades-Nike IMG_0286 (Custom)

Surprisingly, even though one can hardly imagine an experience less Everglades-ish than immersing oneself in the details of mutually assured nuclear destruction, both of us agree that the tour of the missile base was a highlight of the trip.

So, once again, we find ourselves leaving too soon. Too much to do and not enough time. In a sense, that’s the inevitable consequence of racing around Florida, spending only a few days in numerous places, as we scout out possible locations to escape Atlanta winters. But in other places giving short shrift to the locale was tolerable. Here, I wish I had made the Everglades a break in the place-to-place dash and booked a stop of at least a week. It deserves it. If we can make it back someday (I hope we can), we’ll definitely spend more time here, just listening to Everglades whispers.

20160216 Everglades IMG_0287

February 2016: Naples, FL

A friend suggested that, since I was heading off to Florida, I should read at least one of the books by Carl Hiaasen. I’d never heard of Hiaasen, so I read the reviews and picked Stormy Weather. As I learned, Hiaasen is an op-ed columnist for the Miami Herald with a political philosophy that does not, shall we say, align on very many points with my own. Which means that ordinarily I’d be reading his works only to the extent of my practice of being aware of how the enemy thinks. Except for two things. First, he is a gifted writer and the book Stormy Weather is hilarious. Second, the principal theme that runs throughout his books is particularly relevant to this trip: through the irresistible influence of developers, tourists, and corrupt politicians, Florida has been destroyed by some weird combination of vulgarity, venality, greed, and lunacy.

As I mentioned, we didn’t see any such thing in Cedar Key. We got a hint of the Hiaasen Complaint in Sarasota, mainly because of mile after mile of seemingly aimless traffic. But now, in Naples, we are confronted by the Hiaasen Complaint fully substantiated. It’s hard to describe this subculture. In the outskirts of Naples, it’s mile after mile of roads, sometimes seven lanes wide in each direction (that’s right–seven!), lined on both sides with mall after mall, all of them overflowing with shoppers! Stopping at a COSTCO to reprovision a few staples, we found the store so overflowing that the checkout lines, no kidding, extended so far into the store that there were “merge lanes” in the product aisles! Any break to the malls? Yes, but only where they were interrupted by garish, gated communities with signs proclaiming, “Homes to $2 Million Plus.”

Old town Naples, particularly the Fifth Avenue area, once one fights the traffic to get there, is chock-full of trendy restaurants and up-scale boutiques, neither of which is our style.

20160208 Naples IMG_0175 (Custom)  20160208 Naples IMG_0176 (Custom)

But then, there’s “real Naples.” “Real” in the sense of “unreal.” As of June 2015, Naples has the highest per capita income of any city in America. Two-thirds of all American billionaires (“billionaires,” with a “b”) live in Naples. In the Port Royal area, homes go for $20 to $75 million, except that at the lower end of that range they’re basically tear-downs. Really. Some bargains can be had across the river, such as at Aqualane, where the homes are in the $10 to $20 million range, although that area is removed from the beach and one has to drive (not that!) to get to a beach. No wonder the homes are so devalued. Location, location, location. And this isn’t just a couple homes … we’re talking about dozens of homes spread across multiple areas. And, even weirder, 80% of the owners in these areas spend less than 4 weeks per year in their homes.

20160211 Naples IMG_0208 (Custom)  20160211 Naples IMG_0209 (Custom)

20160211 Naples IMG_0210 (Custom)
Home of Dick Portillo, who sold his chain of Chicago hot dog restaurants to Berkshire-Hathaway, with his 112-foot Westport “Top Dog.”

So, what of the Hiaasen Complaint? One can certainly wag his finger at the populace here, full of disdain for those who don’t share one’s keen judgment and moral sensibility. I have to be somewhat careful about such moral superiority since I’m basically in the set being wagged at (as I expect Hiaasen is as well).  But putting aside all of that, the principal “appeal” of Naples just doesn’t hold much appeal for us. The climate is wonderful, the surrounding natural areas are great, and the people have been uniformly friendly and outgoing. But Naples qua Naples is basically uninteresting and can be easily skipped.

Speaking of the surrounding areas, we did have a chance to visit the Audubon Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary (due to the recommendation of a friend, the same friend actually). Wow. Easily in the same class as the Lower Suwanee NWR, and a wonderful side-trip in the Naples area. Unfortunately, it has been an unusually wet January in this area, so the swamp, which is normally drying out this time of year, is pretty much flooded, which has made the area not as conducive to wildlife and bird viewing as normal. But still, it took us hours to walk along the 2-1/4 mile boardwalk, and we enjoyed every minute of it. We’ll be back.

20160210 Corkscrew IMG_0183 (Custom)  20160210 Corkscrew IMG_0192 (Custom)

20160210 Corkscrew IMG_0189 (Custom)  20160210 Corkscrew IMG_0199 (Custom)

And, of course, numerous Bald Cyprus:

20160210 Corkscrew IMG_0187 (Custom)

For all of its appeal, though, I cannot avoid commenting that the Audubon Society does manifest a tendency to the very philosophical defect that plagues most environmentalist thinking, namely the elevation of “nature” over people. For example, one series of displays shows the increasing number of people and the decreasing number of wading birds in south Florida, exponentially trending in opposing directions. Implied in the display is, “Look! This is terrible! People are going up and birds are going down!” So what? I thought. I wanted to collar some hapless Audubon volunteer with a confrontation, “OK … birds like south Florida and people like south Florida. What’s the right balance? People have to eat, which means we need farmland. We need homes and paper products, both of which mean harvesting trees. How much and where? People enjoy a warm, temperate climate in the winter. What’s your plan to meet that simple aspect of human welfare?” I didn’t. I actually think of the Audubon Society as being on the more reasonable end of the environmentalist spectrum, but I found the content of their message long on doctrine and short on sensible, balanced messaging. Still, it’s a great place to visit.

Otherwise, it’s been a relaxing week. We’ve spent some time here enjoying this wonderful RV resort, which is about the nicest RV resort we’ve ever been to, certainly in the category of the RV resorts in Cashiers and Hilton Head, although our little ACE looks a little out of place.

20160208 Naples IMG_0177 (Custom) 20160206 Naples IMG_0164 (Custom)

IMG_0583 (Custom)

20160208 Naples IMG_0178 (Custom)

To their credit, no one really seems to mind that we’re definitely the trailer trash of the neighborhood. There was a huge gathering for the Superbowl. There are community breakfasts every morning. One night we got together with a bunch of the residents for a “spirited” (read: “highly competitive”) game of trivia. And one night a local guide came by and gave a fascinating talk on fishing in the Chokoloskee Island/Thousand Islands area of Florida. This resort is probably a little out of our budget for long-term stays, but this is definitely one of the better watering holes around and a great place to camp out while seeking warmer climes.