Wendy & Skip's RV Adventures

What a gem! For as long as we’ve been camping in Georgia, I think this is the first time we’ve ever been to this park, and I cannot for the life of me figure out why. It’s definitely my new favorite Georgia Park. And we’re not the only ones: Adventure Journal named this park as one of the top twenty state parks in the whole country. America’s Top State Parks.

Maybe we’ve never been here before because it’s a relatively new park, created in 1993, as a partnership between the State and Georgia Power. It’s small (only 2700 acres), the campground only has 50 spaces, and reserving a campsite requires one to call the office [what, no online option?] and mail in a check [how 1980s]. Some of the spaces, ours included, are N-A-R-R-O-W (like, barely wider than Ace with slides extended), and many of them are suitable only for tents or pop-ups (which are here in abundance). We had a little problem with rust in the water, which is apparently a problem attributable to the city water supply. So, if this were just a campground, it would definitely be ho-hum, at best.

But the campground is not the attraction. The main feature of the park is the Tallulah Gorge, a 1000-foot deep, two-mile long gash through solid rock, cut by the Tallulah River. Overlook trails take hikers to precarious perches atop sheer granite walls on either side of the gorge. Several trails descend to the gorge floor itself and one takes hikers on a suspension bridge 80 feet above the river. But for my failure to make reservations, we could have done a ranger-guided hike over the suspension bridge under the light of a full moon! There’s more: There’s a 60-acre lake (formed by the Georgia Power dam), and other hiking trails wind along the lake. One short combination walking-bike trail (paved) traces the path of the old Tallulah Falls Railroad. Plus, there’s a mountain bike trail, kayaking on the lake, and a beautiful beach. Numerous picnic tables along the shore are complemented by bench swings. This is the perfect place for families, an opinion validated by the fact that the campground playgrounds buzz with frenetic little kids and that each camp site seems to have an excess of bikes with training wheels.

Special water releases are made in April and November so that white-water kayakers can race down the canyon. “Aesthetic” releases are made during other times of the year so that visitors can see what the canyon was like before it was dammed up. There’s a wonderful “interpretive center,” with displays about the human and natural history of the area.

There’s just so much to like here. Beautiful trails:

With stunning views of the gorge:

And, the highlight of the gorge, a hike down to a suspension bridge across the canyon:

     

Eighty feet straight down!

Nearby, a great swimming beach:

And much, much more.

I was going to say, “We’ll definitely be back,” but it’s too late–we’ve already made reservations for this Fall, and given the pleasure of our last trip with the grandkids, we’ll see if we can drag one or more of them along for the experience. Stay tuned. More information about the park can be found here: Tallulah Gorge State Park.

The full photo album of the trip can be found here: Photo album.

Statistics for the trip:
Total miles: 370
Fuel cost/mileage: $163.45 / 8.50 mpg
Campground cost: $60 ($20 per night).

After looking forward to a trip to Florida to escape “Polar Vortex 2” (or whatever it was driving the brutally cold temperatures in Atlanta), I must say that the trip didn’t get off to a very good start.

First, my nifty-difty water compartment heater (a thermostatically controlled 110-volt drop light) failed–burned out bulb, I think–and the water lines at the water pump froze solid. Then, there was something weird with the toad’s brake controller (which I’ve never gotten to work the way I like anyway). The controller was activating the toad’s brakes way too hard, and holding them on for a couple seconds after I released ACE’s brakes. So, after towing for about 50 miles and getting more and more worried about the way it was not working, we decided to detach the toad and have Wendy follow me down. Ugh.

Then, we finally made it to warm and sunny Florida, except it wasn’t. While driving into Santa Rosa Beach we were struck by, no kidding, snow flurries. Right … snow flurries. It was actually warmer in Anchorage (47-degrees) than in Destin (44-degrees). What are we supposed to do, head north for the winter? Good grief.

Once at the campground, Rick and Mary were having their own issues: leaky water heater (and, of course, no suitable wrench to tighten it up), a frig that wouldn’t run on AC, something weird about getting water to the kitchen faucet. Nothing major, but a surplus of petty annoyances.

But, such is the nature of RV life, and overall nothing happened that would put a damper on the weekend. So, we set up at Topsail Hill Preserve State Park (a 5-star RV resort that happens to be a state park) and went about enjoying the Florida panhandle.

(Set up at the same site, number 134, and yes, those are the muddy tires from last week’s adventures that I still haven’t cleaned off. And this is the good side–the other side is worse.)

Saturday was a bit chilly for beachcombing, so we decided to drive along 30A and end up in Panama City where we could pick up a few items at the Camping World. We went through Seaside, which is not really my cup of tea. There’s a good reason why The Truman Show was filmed there: it really is a neighborhood that looks more like a movie set than a community.

But Seaside was nothing compared to what awaited us in the newest community, still under construction, Alys Beach. It is difficult, no impossible, to find words to describe what a weird and, well, repulsive, place that “community” is. Imagine what would happen if developers were given free reign to do something more grandiose and more ostentatious and less restrained than Dubai.

This is not actually the Temple of the Most Exalted Priestess of Wretched Excess. It’s just the pool.

Interested? Good. For a mere $7.95 million, you can put yourself in “Aspri Villa” (blech), “a 5-Star villa resting in the ultimate emerald coast community.”

Oh well … they probably look at people like me, driving around in a motorhome (yuck), and are glad for the opportunity to escape the likes of us.

So we returned to the normal world, had lunch at a little beachfront place (probably only a “C” in the food department)…

And then had a wonderful dinner of Shrimp Scampi that night…

The next day, it was off to the Pensacola Naval Aviation Museum. But first, a digression… For a while now, I’ve been developing an inclination that one of the problems with our country [I have a long list, but this is an RV’ing blog] is the small fraction of the population who have ever served in the military. As of 2013, less than 10 percent of the population has ever served in the military. Even among our so-called “leaders,” things are pretty dismal. In 1975, about 70 percent of Congress had served in the military; today, only about 20 percent (and it’s headed downward, and few children of congressmen serve in the military). Of course, our President has never served, which may have in part led to the consequences described in Robert Gates’ new book. So, when I go to a place like the Naval Aviation Museum, I’m both inspired but somewhat dismayed … I just can’t shake a sense that we have far too many Americans who simply don’t get what it means to be willing to make significant personal sacrifice for the good of the country.

[We now return you to your normal programming]

The museum itself, we were told, is the 3rd largest aviation museum in the United States, behind the National Air & Space Museum in Washington D.C. and the granddaddy of them all, the Air Force Museum in Dayton, OH. Not even in the running, but near the top on my list, is the Mighty 8th Air Force Museum in Savannah, GA. But the reason the Naval Aviation Museum is so special to me is because it has so many planes that my dad told me about as I was growing up.

The F4F (forgive the weird paint job), which my dad told me was a bear to fly for several reasons, including a two-pitch prop and a manually cranked landing gear, one that if you tried to cheat by forcing the gear down by pulling a couple G’s, would break your arm.

The F4U Corsair, AKA the “Ensign Killer” (before the technique for landing them on carriers was perfected). I remember my dad telling me that the 18-cylinder, 2000-HP engine had so much torque that a hard push on the throttle could roll the aircraft–definitely not a good thing on approach to a carrier!

The F2H Banshee–my dad was a test pilot for this airplane when we lived in Pratt KS. (Actually, the aircraft pictured is the photo-reconnaissance version (note the extended nose), and my dad flew the regular version. At least it was a model of the regular version he kept in his office.)

The drive back was uneventful, but only because we managed to sneak in just ahead of an approaching snow and ice storm scheduled to hit south Georgia and the Florida panhandle. How fitting. Snow in, snow out.

Overall statistics for the trip:
Campground costs: $42/night
Museum costs: $0 (but made a $20 donation)
Total miles: 547
Fuel Mileage/Cost: 7.97 mpg / $221.28

Just like last year, Cliff and I found ourselves at the Conecuh Springs Christian School charity hunt. This year, though, I had the opportunity to learn an important set of essential motorhome lessons:

Lesson #1: Never drive a motorhome with 10,000 lbs of weight on the rear axle onto ground softened by record rainfall. Why? Because the motorhome sinks in the mud.

(Yes, those are sticks shoved in under the tire in a vain attempt to propel the motorhome out of its self-inflicted immobility. That didn’t work either.)

Lesson #2: Once stuck in the mud, never spin the rear wheels. All that does is sink the motorhome even deeper, with the added benefit of spraying mud all over the undercarriage.

Lesson #3: Do not try to use a 4-wheel drive 1/2-ton pickup to try to pull the motorhome out: The truck can’t possibly pull a trench-bound motorhome on soft soil, so the truck gets stuck in the mud, digs itself into its own set of four trenches, and now you have two problems.

Lesson #4: If you were using a nylon tow strap to connect the now-stuck pickup to the still-stuck motorhome, be prepared for the two vehicles to have settled away from each other in opposite directions, which means you’ll have to cut the strap. Now you have three problems: two stuck vehicles and no tow strap to pull either one out.

Lesson #5: As the host of our hunt said, “The good thing about Bullock County is that you never have to wait too long for a passing tractor.” True, but if you flag down a tractor and try to pull the motorhome out backwards by the tow hitch, make sure the chain is strong enough. Otherwise, it snaps like rubber band and you’re still stuck.

(Behind the still-stuck motorhome, which just snapped the tow chain attached to the tractor, you can see the four trenches from the now-liberated pickup.)

Lesson #6: After finding a bigger chain, being able to pull the motorhome backwards does no good if the place it’s towed to is just as soft. All that produces is more trenches.

Lesson #7: If escaping the soft ground means using the tractor to pull the motorhome backwards onto the nearest dirt road, be prepared to trim the trees in the way.

 

Anyway, after an hour or so of adding this to the list of motorhoming lessons learned, we finally found a dry-enough campsite, set up ACE for the stay, and headed out to the hunt. The result? Four deer, including one really nice buck taken by Cliff on the first day. (We couldn’t find one of the deer at night, and decided to find it the next morning. Unfortunately, though, the coyotes found it before we did–oh well, the “circle of life” and all that.)

 

All things considered, the trip was great fun, memorable hunting, wonderful people, and the best home-made cooking one can hope to find.

Not only is the hunting as good as it gets, but the cause is worthy. I love the way CSCS phrases its mission: “Conecuh Springs Christian School is dedicated to the philosophy that a Christian Education is the only truly valid education. True education must be administered in a spiritual atmosphere and must recognize God as the supreme source of all knowledge and wisdom.”

Overall totals for the trip:
Miles: 170
Campsite fees: $105 (three nights)
Fuel cost: $59.13 (9.08 mpg)

Well, we continue one-by-one to introduce the grandkids to the “camping experience.” This time was granddaughter #2, Ansley, Age 4. We decided that, at her age: (1) she really needs at least one parent to come along, (2) “camping” is a relative term and probably means little more than sleeping in the motorhome, (3) activities like a swimming pool, bike riding, and S’mores by a campfire mean more than an in-the-woods experience, and (4) she doesn’t know the difference between a 20-mile trip and the 200-mile alternative, so something close is better than something far. With all of those factors, we decided on the Pine Mountain RV Resort, all of 22 miles away from the house.

All set up on the couch, some random princess in hand (I think this one is Ariel, but as explained in an earlier posting, I don’t get the whole princess thing.)

We were situated in the new area of the campground, which really hasn’t grown up yet. But it was next to the pool and came with full hook-ups and cable TV (which we didn’t watch). A full review of the campground is located here.

Upon arrival and after a quick lunch, we headed off to the Callaway Gardens butterfly house.

 

Unfortunately, though, it was one of those moments-with-a-four-year-old when the early warning signs of fatigue, coupled with a potentially short fuse, meant that retreat was preferable to defeat so it was time to beat feet, and back to the campground we went.

Which was fine… an afternoon of swimming …

Followed by dinner, a campfire, and s’mores…

…led to an early bedtime.

And the next morning saw the traditional bacon-egg-cheese bun (which, yet again, the LD showed no interest in even trying … what’s wrong with the children?).

And a lunchtime departure for the L-O-N-G (ha ha) drive (22 miles) back home. The full photo album of the trip is located here.

Overall statistics:
Trip miles: 44 (no kidding)
Fuel cost: $0 (not worth filling up)
Camping cost: $45
Overall value: Priceless.

I think I’m really getting into the “”Motorcoach Resort” thingie. When we first got ACE, our assumption was that we would, as we’d done with the pop-up and the trailers, camp mostly at state and federal parks. And we will. I promise. But there’s something to be said for the luxury of an RV “resort,” like my last experience with the Hilton Head RV resort. Only this time, in the midst of an Atlanta oppressive August heat/humidity assault, we headed up to Lake Toxaway, NC, and stayed at the Mountain Falls Motorcoach Resort. What a place. Although it rained every day, when it wasn’t raining the weather was cool and clear, the views were breathtaking, and the environment was, well, what one would expect from a place that bills itself as a luxury motorcoach resort.

This was our street:

(Yeah, yeah … I know … it looks a lot like the Hilton Head street, except it’s in the mountains. Right. It’s August and what we were looking for was something a lot like Hilton Head, only in the mountains.)

This is the way the “campsites” are “furnished.”

ACE was definitely the runt of the litter, but fit in acceptably well nonetheless:

And a waterfall on the grounds to add ambiance:

We played golf a couple times at the local executive course designed by a friend:

 

Grilled shrimp-on-the-barbie one night:

Enjoyed a beautiful sunset:

And, after dinner with friends at the Gamekeepers’s Tavern (where I had, no kidding, kangaroo steak for dinner), we headed back.

(Pheasant, duck, and kangaroo. The last item tastes like beef–maybe like a moo-cow would taste if it spend its life roaming the prairie, jumping up and down) (whatever that means)

So, what’s not to like about this “luxury” motorcoach experience? Nothing that I can think of.

This was also our first trip with the toad doing “mountain” driving. As it turns out, it was a total nonevent. We didn’t break any speed records heading up, although we were faster than the truck traffic. And coming down was fine, although it took me a while to learn how to shift manually between 3rd and 2nd to keep the speed under control. Based on this experience, I’m definitely ready for the Rockies. Well, almost.

Overall stats for the trip:
Total distance: 476 miles
Camping expense: 3 x $55/night
Fuel economy: 6.72 mpg (which is probably an average of our usual 7.8 mpg when pulling the toad, weighted on a mileage basis with about 3.1 mpg going uphill with the toad)

Well, our descent from “camping” to “luxury motorhoming” has taken another major step forward, or downward, or upward, or something. This time we went to our first motorcoach “resort,” the Hilton Head Island Motorcoach Resort. Four-hundred-plus full-hookup sites (with cable TV) , most of which are landscaped and equipped with outdoor furnishings. Plus a heated and cooled (no kidding) pool, tennis courts, recreation room, and a lake with lighted fountains. Oh, and it’s about a mile from Coligny Beach and a ton of restaurants.

This was our second trip pulling the 2006 Toyota Highlander toad, and it worked fine. And it was very nice having wheels to get around.

Our “street,” where essentially all of the motorhomes were in the 40-45′ range:

 

Little ACE fit in, but was obviously the dwarf of the neighborhood:

 

Still, it was a memorable trip. On Saturday morning, we played golf at Golden Bear Golf Club at Indigo Run. Very weird weather: low-80s, dry, and breezy. For the South Carolina coast in mid-June, it was very pleasant. That night, we had dinner at the Black Marlin Bayside Grill, and of course Wendy had her standard fried shrimp, I had a New York Strip with a side of crab legs, and we sat around for a while looking at the boats, daydreaming about doing the Great Loop someday. (That’s my dream–Wendy thinks spending 6 months on a 30-foot boat would be a lot like being in prison, with the added prospect of drowning.) Then, next day, it was off to the beach to let Sally the wonder-water-dachshund play in the water:

 

We didn’t take advantage as much as we could have of the various activities that HHI has to offer because, um, well, it was the weekend of the U.S. Open and we spent a ridiculous amount of time sitting in ACE watching TV. I know, I know … shame on us … but, hey, it’s the U.S. Open.

We decided we’ll definitely be back. So, we are now officially old fogeys who drive around in a motorhome and stay at RV resorts. So much for camping…

Details for the trip:
Total miles: 607
Fuel economy: 7.77 mpg (versus an average of 8.43 when not pulling the toad)
Total camping expenses: $199.80
Golf: $39 x 2
Dinner at the Black Marlin Bayside Grill: $72.63+$14

Several years ago, when the younger son was in flight training at Fort Rucker, all four families met up at FD Roosevelt State Park near Pine Mountain, Georgia, for a weekend of family camping. We picked a site suitable for our trailer, and Son Number Two picked an adjacent site, below us, and nicely flat for the tent he and his wife were using.

It was either this site, or one very similar:

Problem was, during that trip it rained, and it rained, and it rained, until the flat area was completely flooded. And this trip? Same deal: It rained, rained, rained, and rained more, until it looked like this.

Last time, we toughed it out. This time, we quit. Really. FDR State Park is only 30 miles from home and if we were going to be stuck indoors, reading books, watching TV, while it rains cats and dogs outside, we decided we’d rather be at home. So we decamped and headed home.

Oh well … FDR is one of our favorite state parks. We’ll be back soon, but hopefully next time it will be somewhat drier!