The unexpected journey

So, it's 3:10 AM as I write this. It's quite -- for now. I've been up since 1:25 AM having gotten 2 hours of sleep.

What's a man's insomnia got to do with seeing the country by Airstream, you ask?

The answer: Hurricane Michael. 

As the past 7 days have played out we watched a tropical depression in the south central Atlantic become a storm, a hurricane, a major hurricane, that a sharp turn to the north, cross Haiti and Cuba and is now bearing down on... us... Vero Beach, Florida.

According to the forecasters, 24 hours from now the home from which I am writing this will be wrapped in wind of up to 140 miles per hour, and potential submerged in sea water up to her roof trusses. Dread. No, really... That's the feeling... Dread. My wife and I gave birth to this house, or perhaps re-birth is a better term since she has stood here since 1954 when we bought her in 2009 and renovated her in a series of steps. To leave her now, in this way, with so little warning and preparation is hard. 

What's this got to do with seeing the country by airstream, you ask?

Well in about 45 minutes I'll slip out the back door of the house, drive the trust Tundra down the street to the Silver Cliche's Vero Beach rest spot, hitch up and bring her back here. Well finish loading her up and at 7:00 AM start the caravan with Mrs. C' and me along with Romeo the wonder Puggle and grandson Gavin in the truck. Riding behind us will be son Chiristopher with his dog and cat in his van. We will head inland. Our destination for the day is Okeechobee, FL. That might be a 4 or 5 hour trip versus the usual 65 minutes given the mass exodus from the coast, but we'll get there. Some combination of us will ride out the storm in the cliche' while others enjoy room service at the holiday inn there. Given the latest forecast, even that may not be far enough away from Michael the monster, but it'll have to do and it will be much better than staying here to ride it out.

Tomorrow? You'll have to ask Michael. Our plan is to sneak back into Vero Beach as soon as the police reopen the bridges to the island. What we will find will be a topic in our next blog. Stay tuned and wish us well!

Another Big Dam Project

Evening Campers! It's me again, Silver Cliche' with you tonight from the shores of Kerr Lake, North Carolina. What? OK, how about "2 miles north of Middleburg, NC"? Still no? I've got it! "6 miles west of Norlina"! No? "15 miles southwest of South Hills, Virginia"? "35 miles northeast of Raleigh"? Finally! It's hard to believe we can be on the border of two of the original 13 states and not be near anywhere that anyone without a NASCAR hat has ever heard of. But there you have it... America!

This trip is shaping up to be way different from the others which we've shared with you. Our past trips have been about seeing America... lots of America...up close... so close you can smell it... sometimes wishing we hadn't got quite that close. This is different. First off, it was never planned as a sightseeing trip. At least not this portion of the trip. We are "in transit". We've got a place to be (Maryland) and a time to be there (tomorrow). We haven't added the time, nor are we quite in the mood to stop in places like Lumberton and Dunn, North Carolina both of which we passed through today. I'm sure many of you have made the pilgrimage to Dunn on your own already since it is recognized as "the dump truck body capital of the world". Go ahead, smart guy... Google it. If you've been to Dunn yourself then anything we would write would just be over Dunn... sorry... I hope you'll forgive me for that. We certainly had no intention of stopping at "South of the Border". We've made that mistake before and would rank it as one of those spots in America where getting too close will leave a smell-memory that's hard to get past. When we saw a billboard advertising their new campground I told Mrs. C' that I'd rather sell the Airstream and sleep under an I-95 overpass. No thank you! Secondly, it's hotter than a teenage romance in the south right now. We saw a little relief today versus yesterday but it's too hot to leave the dogs in the trailer while we go eat with the locals or explore the place where General Grant designed and constructed the first Union Army General Officers' Privy (don't Google that... I made it up). On this trip Kailey the wonder dog will celebrate 130 dog years. She is more willing than able at this point. During a potty break today she literally walked into the side of the truck. We just can't leave her or Romeo the Puggle in the truck or trailer in this heat. So we hang out and drink coffee and read in the morning, then we drive, someone stays in the truck with the dogs while someone else makes lunch to bring to her, then we drive some more. Eventually we apply ourselves to the business of cooling the trailer at the next campsite and relax for the evening. I'm afraid I'll run out of anecdotes to keep that routine interesting starting about... oh... tomorrow.

At least I got a few pics in today. Here is our current camping spot on the shores of Kerr Lake:
 


Here is a link to Google Maps to show you precisely where we are. Remember, set Google maps to "satellite view" to see the terrain then zoom out to see the larger picture: https://www.google.com/maps/@36.5295343,-78.3158123,37m/data=!3m1!1e3

I'd rate this as one of the better campsites we've stayed at. It was a challenge to get into and required snaking the Cliche' around a couple of trees, but the privacy and view are well worth it.For tonight we have a lakefront vacation home.

And here's a panorama of approaching dusk taken from that seawall in the pic above:
 

As for Kerr Lake itself, it's another fine product of the US Army Corps of Engineers. Wikipedia says of the John H. Kerr Dam: "The dam construction started in 1947 and took 2,100+ workers in three shifts, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, more than four years to complete" That a big dam project. It is partially in North Carolina and partially in Virginia. The Virginia portion is the largest reservoir in that state.

So instead of sightseeing along our route across America we are stopping in places like this and enjoying what we see. Tomorrow we take on one of the toughest challenges in trailer driving. We've taken the Cliche' across the Rockies...  a breeze. We've gone to sea on ferry boats... a snap. We've braved heavy rain and flooding along the Gulf... no problem. Tomorrow we take on the dreaded Washington Capital Beltway. The Secretary of Transportation says "The recent improvements in the Capital Beltway make travel around Washington efficient, safe and pleasant". That's reassuring since we all know that cabinet secretaries are people whose word means something. Despite that reassurance, we are preparing for the worst and shooting to traverse the dreaded Tyson's Corner stretch during the 30 minutes between 11:42 AM and 12:12 PM that are currently believed to be free of rush hour traffic. From there, it's across the Potomac into Maryland. Wish us well!

Our visit to Maryland is mostly about helping our daughter with her project list. I may take a few nights off from blogging, but if I do I'll be back once travel begins again.

Later!

SC'

Sultry and Steamy in the Southland

Evenin' Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you again. Tonight from Lake Marion, South Carolina and specifically at Santee State Park on the south shore of the lake.

There is something special about traveling through the southland in July. It's as sultry as a Kathleen Turner movie and as steamy as a romance novel. Not the type of romance novel that has the work "Bronte" on the leather spine. The type that's in a rack at the supermarket checkout. You know, the paperback with a picture of a shirtless guy on horseback on it. I'm not sure why those guys either look like Antonio Banderas or Yanni. I take that back... actually, I do know why. If they ever want a model with the Yule Brenner look, I'm ready to step in. Not the "King and I" Yule Brenner with the open vest. The older, pear-shaped Yule.  Anyhow... the south today was that kind of steamy.

We survived our night in the presence of ICBMs without incident. In fact, it was a reminder of some of the rarely seen aspects of America's safety shield. In 1995 our family had the chance to board the USS Nebraska for a tour when she was at Port Canaveral for a test launch of one of her Trident missiles. Our son, youngest daughter and I were shown around the ship from the forward torpedo room to the engine room door (a classified space). It was amazing to see an Ohio class boat from the inside. Nebraska is still in service, although she transferred from being based at Kings Bay, Georgia to Bangor, Washington. With some of the craziness in the world there is comfort in knowing she and her sister ships are always at the ready.

The trip from St. Mary's to Santee was uneventful, if not cool and refreshing. The thermometer in the truck read 90 when we hit the road at 10:30. It moved up steadily until topping out at 99. We have yet to see 100 as measured by the truck on this trip, but there were 100+ temps reported from near our route including in Columbia, South Carolina where they topped 100 for the fourth day in a row with a forecast for four more to tie a record. It's hot here.

Any of you who have traveled I-95 from the north to south or back know Lake Marion. It's the largest lake in the state of South Carolina and I-95 passes directly across it about half way between the North Carolina and Georgia borders. Like so many lakes we visit this is a man made. A bit older than many, this was a New Deal project. Strangely, you can see stands of trees in the middle of the lake. The lake level looks normal as judged by the docks, beaches and such along the shore. We've seen flooding around the country and this place doesn't show current signs. If we had not been hit with severe storms at my usual time to wander around and take pictures I could show you the floating forest that sits about a half mile from the shore where we are camped. Maybe the morning will offer better opportunity.

So tomorrow we continue north. The next stop is a state park in North Carolina near the Virginia border on Kerr Lake. That's about 4 hours drive and will position us to reach Maryland on Friday.

Stay tuned.

Later!

SC'

Sleepin' with the Boomers!

Evenin' Campers! It's me, Silver Cliche' again and back on the road with you tonight from Crooked River State Park in St. Mary's, Georgia.

Normally, I send out this e-mail a few days before we hit the road and let you all know to be on the lookout for posts to start nightly at our usual home on blogspot (http://silvercliche.blogspot.com) and pictures at our site on Flickr (https://www.flickr.com/photos/131457232@N02/ ). Those sites are active and if you missed any posts or pics from our trip to Arizona and Utah in April-June you can find them there. However, this email isn't an alert, it's my first post from the road on our latest adventure. Why? That's easy... after 7 weeks on the road ending in early June we had a whirlwind time in Florida including catching up with maintenance on houses and vehicles, getting reacquainted with our volunteer ventures at the VNA/Hospice and the Red Cross and most significantly a visit from our daughter and her three great kids from Maryland. That meant that for two weeks we had all five "grands" in Vero Beach. The oldest two guys even used the Airstream as their club house and bunk house. We celebrated the 7th birthday of our one and only granddaughter the night before the crew returned to Maryland. Here's a shot that's worth 5 grand to me from that night:

Anyway, after that we had three days to prep the house and trailer and keep our schedule to depart today. That's normally a week or more of work so guess who didn't have time to send the customary "get ready" email. Who knows, this approach might actually work better.

This trip is a lot different from the last one. There are no canyons on the itinerary, no Navajo sandstone features, no Native American ruins and no snow. Instead we are moving at a quick pace to get to Maryland. While there we will get more grand kid time and help our daughter with some decorating projects. After that, another first, we're bringing a grand kid on the road with us. No, not any of the three Marylanders on the left side of the pic above. I'm flying back to Florida, meeting the guy on the far right at the airport and flying back with him to Baltimore. He will join us for the trip home to Florida.

The first stop of the trip is tonight at St. Mary's, Georgia. "Where's that?" you ask? Well, if you were in Florida and heading north on I-95 and you said "I want to be out of Florida... get me to the first State Park I can reach" you'd be here at Crooked River State Park. The Florida state line is just a few miles south of us. However, between here and there is a national asset many of you have never heard of. The US Naval Submarine Base at King's Bay, Georgia. It's just a few miles downstream from where we are camped on Fancy Bluff Creek. Here's a view of the Creek immediately behind our campsite which is in a stand of mature Georgia pine trees:

The mission of Kings Bay is simple. This is where the strategic ballistic missile submarines of the Atlantic fleet call home. In today's Navy these are Ohio class subs which are 600+ feet long with a crew of 100 and something and head out from here to perform their "deterrent patrols" in whatever patch of ocean they choose. Each carries enough nuclear firepower to send a strong message by return mail to anyone who chooses to send the US their calling card. Of course, this mission means there are plenty of the world's most powerful weapons just down the road. It also means that any government who subscribes to the "MAD" doctrine (Mutually Assured Destruction) in which any nuclear attack would be met with an even stronger nuclear response has weapons targeted at this place. If through some amazing combination of a nuclear accident and poor timing on our part there was a nuclear release tonight you could certainly say "At least they didn't have time to suffer".

The beauty of this place as shown in the pic above is not diminished in any way by the presence of this vital and deadly mission just a few miles away.

After our stop in Maryland we will make a side trip to Pennsylvania to visit my parents. Stopping to visit family and friends has become a favorite activity for us on these trips. This one is overdue since "the folks" have followed us along on each trip. Plus, we are the guests who bring their own guest house... what could be easier?

When our northern business is done we will start to trip back to the Southland. With an active 10 year old on board we are carrying extra amusements this trip. In addition to the x-box we've got puzzles, games, reading material for the younger reader and two bicycles. Although those are mine and his, they are really for Mrs. C' who I suspect will say at least once "My bike isn't here, but why don't you boys go for a ride and I'll stay here at the trailer".

So, that's it. I'll post this one on Blogspot and the river sunset pic on Flicker. Starting tomorrow I'll just post the day's activities and not send an e-mail every day. I hope you'll follow along with us!

Later!

SC'

That's all for this trip...

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here, checking in with you tonight from Lake Point Resort State Park in Eufaula, Alabama near the shores of the Walter F George Reservoir which some people refer to as Lake Eufaula. We nearly escaped Alabama today. We are so close that Alabama is here at the campground, and Georgia is right across the lake.

So, not much to share today. A long drive... 374 miles, Google calls it 5:37 driving time but it drives much longer), intense rain with interstate traffic doing about 40 mph at one point, two significant cities of the south (Birmingham and Montgomery), a pass within 5 miles of "the shrine of Tupelo" (the Elvis birth shack). One noteworthy sign I saw not long after we left Holly Springs read Little Tallahatchie River. I was looking for "the bridge" and Billie Joe McAllister, but it turns out they were (both past tense) farther downstream in Money, Mississippi. Perhaps most memorable for me will be the last hour of the drive. After we left urbanity and the interstates we were on state roads... mostly two lane... through eastern Alabama. As residents of the Florida peninsula, I don't consider us "southern". The South (it's a specific place and therefore a proper noun and therefore capitalized in this context) runs from Virginia to the Florida panhandle (but not Jacksonville in my opinion) and west to include Kentucky, Tennessee, and Louisiana. Others may disagree and say stupid things like "Being southern is in your heart and not about where the dirt in your boots came from". They're wrong. There is a word that is used more -- or at least used with different intonation and meaning -- in the south than in the north. That word is "land". Southerners refer to their region as "the southland". The phrase "southern land" comes up in rock-a-billy songs and elsewhere. That last hour of our drive today was through true southern land in rural Alabama. It was beautiful in a way that gave insight into why boys in grey fought as far north as Pennsylvania to protect what they had. Fortunately, they didn't get to keep all they had built on the land, but they did keep the land itself and it's still here to be seen and to inspire. It was green, lush, tranquil, largely undeveloped and seemingly undisturbed. Occasional small towns like Union Springs (how did that name stick here?) and Midway slowed our passage, but that was it.

Tomorrow we plan to complete the trip. It's been 6 + weeks since we left home. Time to get back and see what it looks like now. It'll be 7+ hours of driving, but I think the trusty Tundra and the Cliche' herself can handle it if we and the dogs can. 

It's been quite a trip. I hope you enjoyed coming along with us. We had a chance to catch up with some family we haven't seen I a while. That, alone, would have made the trip worthwhile as it has on other trips when we've stopped to see family or friends and taken advantage of a barn yard or driveway parking spot for a few nights. Beyond that we saw five national parks (Grand Canyon, Zion, Bryce, Arches and Mesa Verde), a few monuments and recreation areas (Glen Canyon  and Navajo) at least four major rivers (the Mississippi, Colorado, Rio Grande and Arkansas), two major cities (New Orleans and Dallas), too many state parks to mention, too many small towns to count and odds and ends including a plantation in Louisiana, a food court made of Airstreams in Florida and a snow filled basin at 11,000 feet in the Rockies. The best parts are still out there on Flickr if you want to step through them again.

By the time we get home tomorrow I think I'll be spent. Let me close out this trip tonight by saying "thanks" to those of you who helped and encouraged us along the way. It helps on long days like today knowing that you are riding along with us in spirit.

We'll be home almost a month getting our lives back in order and the Cliche' road-ready again (she needs a good cleaning and even some repairs... for example, today somewhere on the rough Mississippi roads a drawer flew out of the wardrobe in the bedroom and broke. That takes some shaking!). Look for an email from me around Independence Day titled "Silver Cliche' hitting the road!" and ride along to Maryland then Massachusetts and home along Shenandoah Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway through Virginia and North Carolina.

Until then...

SC'

1.) Transportation and b.) government waste

Evening, Campers! It's,Silver Cliche' with you again. Tonight reporting from Holly Springs, Mississippi and Wall Doxey State Park. We have made a commitment to put the miles under our belly pan (that's an Airstream anatomical reference) and move steadily toward home. Today was another 5+ hours of driving which was good for about 350 miles. That included three states - Arkansas, Tennessee and Mississippi. It's been a while since we hit three states in a day.  A clear sign we are back in the east, although not yet back on Eastern Daylight Time. 

I was going to post a google maps rendition of how we got here, but it was overkill. Here's what you need to know... From Barling, Arkansas get on I40 heading east. Go for an eternity (like 4 1/2 hours). When you see a huge river under you and a giant pyramid right next to it (make sure the pyramid has a "Bass Pro Shops" logo the size of the playing surface at Yankee stadium on it so you know you have the right pyramid... more on that later) get off I40, take a meandering combination of Memphis city streets that google maps will figure out for you, hop on I 22 south for 20 miles and BANG! you're there. If you reach the University of Mississippi at Oxford (Ole Miss!) you've gone a bit too far.

If you want, along the way stop in Little Rock for lunch at a barbecue place. And since "water always wins" keep an eye out for rain which was not too much trouble for us today, but tomorrow and Sunday are forecast between 60 and 80% all along the route.

So the highlight of the day was Memphis. We passed through the city last year heading west to Yellowstone. Mostly I remember traffic hang ups and the embarrassing condition of the infrastructure. Neither seems to have improved much, although today we took the I40 bridge because Google told us the accident on I55 (could pavement "irregularities" have contributed?) would bring us to a halt. Did you know there are only 17 road crossings of the Mississippi between Tennessee and the delta. That's 737 miles of river with a bridge every 45 miles on average. Two of those are in Memphis. Hey, I want you to be a better informed person for having read this. You're welcome... again.

There are two stories that strike the person passing through Memphis. 1.) transportation and 2.) monumental government waste. Let's take #1 first. Memphis is home to FedEx. 'nuf said. Seeing as how there is no direct connection worth a damn from I40 to I22, Google maps did literally route us on city streets. It did the same last year between I22 and I55. Each tour was a wonderland of modern transportation. At one point today we went along the southern border of Memphis International Airport (MIA). In the few minutes we took to cross there I saw five FedEx planes take off using three different, active runways. It was 4:00 in the afternoon. That's 12 hours off from their busy time. Geez. I just looked up the google maps "satellite view" of MIA. At whatever random time they flew over, there were 80 cargo aircraft in neat rows at various facilities on the north end of the field. There were 5 commercial aircraft at the passenger terminal. Welcome to Cargo-town, USA! In addition to FedEx, every other major freight carrier has a visible presence including UPS, the Postal Service and even the Air Force who had three C17 cargo planes very visibly parked at their hanger near our route. But wait... there's more! Near the airport is the Port of Memphis on the Mississippi which includes a multimodal cargo facility (that's where they pick up those 8x8x40 metal shipping containers and move them between ships, barges, trains and trucks.) So, right here in Memphis there is cargo coming and going on every conceivable conveyance and at speeds determined by a shippers willingness to pay. They can get your Amazon order to you overnight on a plan from anywhere to anywhere (with a connection in Memphis at 2:00 AM) or on the slow boat from China via the Mississippi and the last train to Clarksville. All I can say is WOW! Now let's turn to monumental government waste. Remember that pyramid?  Guess who built it? Right. The City of Memphis and Shelby County. Oh they had grand plans. However, on opening night in 1991 with a Judd's concert planned it flooded. No bull. Evidently the arena had one of those rubber stoppers like an old bathtub but a really big one and nobody could find the chain for it. If you want the whole sad tale, read Wikipedia. The net is that the University of Memphis basketball program wouldn't even play there, the NBA team moved out of town (but kept the right to exclusive use of the arena... go figure) and after every other possibility was exhausted... a breakthrough!... Bass Pro Shops now has a mega store inside it... hence the logo. I poop you not. (Thanks for noticing. I'm trying to keep this blog at least as classy as Memphis itself). So, two lessons here, class: 1.) government should stick to governing and not real estate development and b.) if Donald trump becomes president I sure as poop hope he makes the transition from real estate development to governing better that the Memphis/Shelby team did going the other way. (And I know I mixed "1" and "b"... I have to do something to stimulate my brain now that all I have to look forward to is another 878 miles of driving through the southland and most hoodoos to photograph.)

So, here we are in Holly Springs. It's... raining... and heavily forested... and humid... which means it will continue raining on us for about 2 hours after the rain stops hitting the trees. Tomorrow is supposed to rain more as we traverse Mississippi (Yes, we will be near the Elvis Birthplace Shrine in Tupolo again. No we do not plan to stop. Look at last years blog if you need to see the picture again.) then we will cut southeastward across Alabama until we reach the Lake Point State Park Resort  in Eufaula on the Georgia border. With luck, that will be our last over night stop on this trip and we will back the Cliche' into her home spot in Vero Beach on Sunday night. Like a major ocean liner coming to her home from a round-the-world voyage, she'll get some cleaning, polishing, maintenance and repairs (and a refitting to the factory interior since the recliners stay home next time) and be ready to go north in a month!

Stay tuned!

Later, 

SC'

Oxygen, humidity and mosquitoes. Feels like home!

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' with you again tonight. This time from... wait for it... Barling, Arkansas! Yep, we dumped our plans in Oklahoma to step it up a bit and head east. We are safely parked for the night at Springhill Park (another fine product of the US Army Corps of Engineers!) right on the southern bank of the Arkansas River near Van Buren, Arkansas... no?.... how about "near Forts Smith, Arkansas"... still no?... come on, Fort Smith is the second largest city in the whole freakin' state. How about "Just across the border from Oklahoma and about the middle of the state"? ... Ok, good enough then.

I've been meaning to write about a lesson I've learned on this trip. Now seems the opportune time to share the thought. Here it comes: When water meets anything, water wins. Nope, that's it. I started realizing this as we got deeper into the west on the way out but it hit me hardest at the Grand Canyon. If not for flowing water (lots of it... over a long period of time) the Grand Canyon would have remained the Grand Plain (boring!... we already have the even larger "Great Plains" and they are totally boring... just read the posts for the past few nights... and please try staying awake this time). Then I thought about New Orleans (water!), the Rio Grande basin (water!), Zion (water!), Bryce Canyon (water!), etc.. It's all about water and in each case the land has been transformed and reshaped while the water is unscathed, moves on and gets ready to come back and do it again. Water always wins.

So, last night I told you we were getting road weary and disillusioned by attempting to capture and share interesting pics of the plains (boring!). Today we got reshaped by the same force that turned the erstwhile "Grand Plain" into the spectacle that it is today - water. It has been something between drizzling and pouring here in the nation's abdominal region all day. (If this is the abdomen, you'll have to use your imagination to orient the other parts of the country around the anatomy. Remember, Louisiana is south of us.). Fortunately, modern humans have the National Weather Service and the Internet to access it (except in northeast New Mexico as explained a few nights ago) so we saw this coming. Rather than heading to Quartz Mountain today (in the rain) then to Lake Thunderbird, Oklahoma tomorrow (in the rain) then to Springhill Park on Saturday (in the rain), we elected to cut out the middle men and head right to Springhill Park today (in the rain). 

 I wrote the other evening that when we were leaving the Rockies we stopped in Salida, Colorado (great fish and chips that day... just typing "S-a-l-I-d-a gave me a flashback) and left town following the Arkansas River. It took the northerly route through Kansas then northeast Oklahoma, but then it veered southeast and we became reacquainted today. You may recall that all of the US Army Corps of Engineers campgrounds we've stayed at on this trip have been on lakes created by Corps-constructed dams. This campground is not one of those. In addition to their dam efforts, they also build waterways projects including canals and locks. This campground sits on the Arkansas at a point where locks and a small hydroelectric station enable the river to contribute to commerce and human progress. Try selling that idea in Washington today! This week's Supreme Court decision had to remind the Corps that they are supposed to tame water to help the American people, not tame the American people to help water. But that's a topic you can research on your own and draw whatever conclusion you want. Here in Barling if it would stop raining long enough for me to walk 150' directly behind the trailer across a spongy lawn I could take a picture of the river with some gargantuan barge full of something being moved along the Arkansas to the Mississippi from deep in the abdomen of America. Maybe tomorrow.

Our route today took us southeast from Fort Supply, Oklahoma back through Woodward (where we learned about greasers at the laundromat yesterday) and 60 miles to a point west of Oklahoma City where we picked up I40 heading east. That carried us nearly 200 miles (yep... It was five and a half hours of driving today at our stepped up pace) just across the state line into Arkansas. Along the way we saw casinos... lots of casinos... remember that Oklahoma was "the Indian Territory" before statehood. The US Army pushed all manner of tribes into that space including the Cherokees whose homeland we visited last year in North Carolina, and the Choctaw (I have no idea where they used to live) and dumped them into land occupied by tribes that were already there (Muskogee, Sioux, Comanche, whatever). In the smallest measure of retribution, these tribes now each have the right to open casinos on the land they were given and they have done so. We stopped for gas, then parked to make lunch in the trailer at a Seminole Casino. The Seminoles! They are a Florida tribe. How the heck did they get their own casino in Oklahoma? I have no idea, but clearly everyone is on on to action in Oklahoma casinos. We crossed the Chisholm Trail, and sang in memory of Merle Haggard when we passed Muskogee, Oklahoma,  USA. By the end of he day we were below 500 feet above sea level. The air here is warm and thick with oxygen, humidity and mosquitoes... just like at home! The best part of our day was seeing the "Arkansas Welcomes You!" sign. Oklahoma wasn't that bad (it's not like it was Louisiana or anything). I think their old advertising slogan was quite right. "Oklahoma is OK". I can imagine a discussion between me and our neighbor Brendan when we get home that would properly use that phrase in context: He: "Hey, how was your trip out west?" Me: "It was  fantastic... We saw amazing things in New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona and Utah." He: "And you came home through Oklahoma, right? How is that?" Me: "Oh, Oklahoma is OK." After what we saw farther to the west, we were not disappointed to move past OK.

So we have set a new target. Instead of rambling and moseying at our standard pace (three hours of driving a day when in transit and two days a week off the road) we are setting our sights for home. We head to northern Mississippi tomorrow (in the rain), southeast Alabama on Saturday (in the rain) and if our rear ends can handle it should arrive home Sunday night hopefully to a beautiful Florida evening.

Stay tuned!

Later...

SC'

Step away from the greasers

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' with you again and once again tonight from the US Army Corps of Engineers campground known as Supply Park on the shores of Fort Supply Lake near Fort Supply, Oklahoma.

Today was a day off the road, but not a "day off". Sometimes we try to have a relaxing day when we are not in motion, but once in a while we are overtaken by deferred chores. Today was one of those days. The most seriously deferred chore was grooming the antique Wheaten Terrier who has made every trip since we got the Airstream. Kailey is 18 now and showing every bit of her 126 dog years. Wheatens are "hair dogs" and need grooming. However, given her advanced age, the fact that she has acclimated to Florida since her retirement there in 2013 and the cold weather we anticipated (and saw) in Arizona, Utah and Colorado, we let the hair grow as a protection from the cold. Now we are back down to where the air is thick and warm, it was time to remove the hair. Neither she, nor I were amused by the process. Judging by her appearance now, and reflecting on my experience administering my own hair cuts I think it is wise that I did not choose to pursue hair cutting as a profession. 

The other major chore of the day was laundry. We packed heavily for this trip including every pair of unmentionables and socks we each own. To stretch things out I even operate a "dry laundry" to the complete chagrin of Mrs. C'. If you are not familiar with the process, ask the male who you know who has most recently graduated from college and who did not live at home for those four years. The core concept is that a garment, once worn will become more wearable if left I disturbed for a long enough period of time. This is especially useful for Hawaiian shirts provided there is a closet in which to hang them. Following college graduation, most men no longer use the traditional "pile/invert/reuse" method, especially if there is a woman in their life to shame them for ever considering the practice. Today was laundry day.

To do laundry we left the shores of Fort Supply Lake and headed into the county seat - Woodward, Oklahoma - 12 miles away. Woodward is a city of 12,000 population. Here in these parts that ranks it as the largest community in a 9 county area (I told you this place is sparsely populated. When you next hear some wag talk about the global population crisis and how we are running out of land and resources just say to yourself "There's room in Oklahoma..."). While there we did a bit of shopping and at lunchtime we turned again to... class?... anyone?... that's right Bueller, TripAdvisor for guidance on a lunch spot. It wasn't promising, but we picked a "local institution", the Poly Anna Cafe on Main Street. I'm not sure what had more character, the Formica topped table we sat at that literally had the pattern worn off it from God only knows how many years of plates and coffee cups being slid across it or the stream of customers who flowed in and out. The regulars had either blue denim bib overalls (yes, even the ones in their 60s and 70s) or starched denim jeans held up with a belt that was capped by a silver buckle the size of a salad plate. Plaid shirts were de rigueur. I was in khaki cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with palm leaves and a big, orange bird of paradise on it (Why? That's my uniform, that's why. Plus the shirt was fresh from... ah.... um... the "laundry"). The most common thing folks said to us in Woodward was "Where you folks from?". Anyway, back to Polly Anna's and lunch. They had a little of everything on the menu. An assortment of "diner-ish" choices. That implied that the kitchen included all types of cooking equipment. Mrs. C' ordered the fried chicken with two sides peas and mashed potatoes) I ordered the chicken fried steak sandwich with the onion ring upgrade and a side of fried okra. I might dress like a Hawaiian, but I eat like a local. The mashed potatoes were from a box, the peas were in a Velveeta sauce. Ugh! However, every fried item was perfect. I would call the okra unquestionably the best I've ever had. So, the lesson is: When eating Oklahoma diner food, stick with the fried stuff and you won't be disappointed. Our lunch confirmed what we already knew. Or When you eat at a "local institution" you have a "local experience".

After lunch we hit the laundromat. Oh boy! We had another local experience. About 1/4 of the washers and 5 specific dryers had signs that read either "Greasers" or "Greasers Only" on them. That declaration almost got lost among the other signage that said, for example "No washing of horse or dog bedding... No exceptions!". We didn't use the "Greasers" washers for fear a John Travolta or Henry Winkler impersonator might come out of the back and start a rumble then pull out his comb to preen before defending his laundry equipment. However, when the first load was ready to dry we headed to the nearest dryer and got ready to load it up before a woman who works there came running over to stop us. "That dryer is for 'greasers'" she said. "Oh, we didn't realize that. What's a 'greaser'?" we asked. It turns out the largest industry in the Woodward, Oklahoma area is oil and gas exploration and production. We knew that intuitively based on the businesses we passed on the way into town that featured drilling equipment, drilling fluid tankers and such. We had also seen a large natural gas pipeline compression station yesterday as we left the panhandle and oil wells dropped randomly along our route. So, "greasers" are the machines for the oil field workers to use to wash their work clothes. It turns out that no amount of effort will keep the residue from those clothes staying in the laundry equipment and contaminating the next load. So we still needed to worry about Travolta... but the one from "Urban Cowboy" not "Grease".

After being thoroughly doused in Oklahoma culture we headed back to Fort Supply and the safety of our cocoon on wheels. Just a note about Fort Supply. I had to research this one because the name conjured such a wide range of possible derivations. For example, I have shopped at "Tractor Supply" from time to time. Perhaps "Fort Supply" shared a similar lineage. It turns out that's not it. In 1868 the country was tired of fighting but a whole bunch of military men were not. They found new excitement with the support of the Federal government in Washington in places like this. I am reminded of "Dances with Wolves" which was set in that time and a place not far from here. One of those men was General Phil Sheridan who was directed to engage the Indians of the Southern Plains. He needed a resupply post and it was located here. First "Camp Supply" (I'd shop there, for sure) then upgraded to "Fort Supply" served his command. At one point George Armstrong Custer operated from here in his ongoing mission to "educate" the native people. Presumably Fort Supply kept the soldiers supplied to food and materiel while keeping the natives in the area supplied with smallpox infested blankets and hot lead. The fort was decommissioned after about 30 years of use and was later reopened as a mental hospital (which may not have required much alteration given the inclinations of its prior inhabitants).

On Friday it will be 6 weeks since we left Florida and headed west. We are starting to experience road weariness. Photographically, I'm falling into a "post parkin' depression" since I have not had any hoodoos to photograph in weeks. Notice there are no pics in today's blog. Ok, I'll add one. Sunrise over Fort Supply Lake taken from the door of the Airstream this morning. 

We're starting to say things like "why did we think we needed to head south tomorrow to see Quartz Mountain, Oklahoma" and "do you think we could shave a day or three off the trip and not really have missed anything of significance?". As the old expression goes, when the horse smells the barn sometimes he starts to gallop. We'll keep you posted about how we deal with the growing desire to get back to the old homestead and get some sand back in our shoes.

Later,

SC'

Through two open windows and a tire swing

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here again with you and tonight for the first time ever from the Sooner State... O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A... Oklahoma! Specifically, we are camped on the shores of Fort Supply Lake (another creation of the fine folks at the US Army Corps of Engineers) in Fort Supply, Oklahoma.

Last night I was unable to share any pictures. The cell service at Clayton Lake State Park, New Mexico was so spotty that I was lucky to get the text update loaded for you. By this morning I couldn't even get email to load... the dispatch I sent to you was the last message out before the blackout. Phew!

So tonight we have more internet than we know what to do with. It's fast or famine on the highways of rural America. Let me share a few photo updates with you from the past couple of days. First off, here's a shot from the top of Monarch Pass taken yesterday at 11,300+ feet.

 

And a couple of street scenes from Salida, Colorado where we stopped yesterday for lunch and shopping.

  

Now, Mrs. C' hates it when I do this, but I'm thinking it helps tell our story. Here is another in the series I call "the Silver Cliche' Driving Experience" (she calls it the "Silver Cliche' about to get smacked by his wife" experience). This is somewhere in New Mexico or maybe the Oklahoma Panhandle... no, for sure New Mexico, I see bumps on the horizon.

 

And finally, a panorama from our campsite at Clayton Lake. 

 

Since the lake was created by humans by impounding a creek or stream (there can't be any rivers in NE New Mexico, it's too dry) it sits in what had been a valley cleared by flowing water. Hence the poor cell signal since we were in a bowl below the floor of otherwise flat plains. I'm thinking about inventing a cell phone booster antenna that includes a helium balloon that would lift a wire out of such depressions to allow contact with fellow humans.

So, overnight it got quite cool in NE NM... around 50 I'd guess. We buttoned up the Cliche' and ran the furnace to keep our Florida behinds at their natural temperature. The morning was high thin overcast and it warmed slowly. We were uninspired by the place and decided to head east!

Let me ask you to think about US maps you've seen through your life. Oklahoma has one of the strangest shapes of any state in the union. The Oklahoma Panhandle is that rectangular protrusion heading west from the main mass of the state along its northern boundary with Kansas. On most schoolbook maps it is so skinny that whatever pastel the rest of Oklahoma is painted on a particular map doesn't show in the panhandle because the width of the border lines is sufficient to account for its entire north-south expanse. In reality, it is 34 miles from north to south and 166 miles long. The Indians who lived here had lacrosse fields that were taller than that. In the 2010 US census the entire population of the three counties that make up the panhandle was 28,000. Historically, this piece of land was literally leftover. As each surrounding state or territory (Kansas, New Mexico, Texas and Colorado) set their boarders using natural features like rivers or human conceptions like lines of latitude and longitude there was a piece left on the cutting table. It sits between 37 and 37.5 degrees north latitude and 100 and 103 degrees west longitude. Evidently the five states had a game of musical chairs. Oklahoma lost and the leftover was stitched to its left edge. Now, Oklahoma looks like a torso facing the world with its right arm extended directly out from the shoulder. In an unfortunate metaphor, that creates an arm pit and that is precisely where we are camped tonight, just one county to the east of the pit itself.

Today's route worked out (with no planning or intent on my part in picking campsites) to drive us right down the middle of the Oklahoma panhandle without once touching Texas, Colorado or Kansas. It felt like we made a trick shot on our route from Utah to Florida. I had a thought of two boys practicing with their .22 rifle on a farm and one saying to the other "I bet I can shoot through the two open windows of the tool shed and the tire swing and hit a pop bottle on top of that fence post over there". That's basically our drive today... right down the middle.

So, enough analogies. I'm thinking you want to know what it's like here. I didn't take many pics the past few days. I'll mostly have to describe what we saw and did. You know that northeast New Mexico was pretty flat. It turns out we didn't know what flat was. The rare rises and undulations that disturbed the terrain yesterday afternoon gave up completely as we entered the panhandle of Oklahoma. This is range country. There were cattle grazing everywhere on range land a log the two lane state roads we drove. About every 10 miles there was a 5 degree turn to the left or right. Other than than I could have let the dog on my lap drive while I napped. The first town we went through was Boise City (they were reaching when they tacked "City" onto the town's name). I can only imagine that if they had a radio station there and if that radio station had a contest that gave away a dee-lux ski vacation to... oh... Kansas... that the winner might say upon receiving his prize "Well, Kansas certainly has the terrain for skiing". It's flat enough in the western panhandle to make anyplace else look like ski country. And sparsely populated, too. When we went through Boise City I had just shy of a half tank of gas. Knowing what we had been through to get there I stopped and filled up since I had doubts we'd see another station before I hit "E".

There was a strange occurrence that happened not once, but twice in this desolate land. Yesterday afternoon in Mew Mexico and again today in Oklahoma on state roads in flat, featureless land I saw debris in the road. Generally this means a hunk of truck tire or an unsuccessful four legged pedestrian... something like that. On two recent occasions we even saw rattlesnakes in the road. But yesterday and today we saw two lengths of stout rope. I'm guessing each was 3/4" or more diameter and 20' or so in length. What the heck? Mrs. C' put it together. In each case a poor soul finally realized the futility of living in such a place and made plans to end it all. Grabbing a suitable rope they headed out to find an equally suitable tree. They searched. And searched. And searched. Their sense of futility only increased. Realizing there was no suitable tree in either state they stepped in front of a passing cattle truck and all that's left is their rope. I think she might be right. Living in such a place could have that effect on a person.

Dead center in the panhandle was a town I had actually heard of. Guymon. It is the gleaming jewel of the panhandle and is home to over one out of every three "Panhandlers" (I doubt they actually call themselves that, but I'm too lazy to look it up, so that's what I'm calling the 28,000 souls who inhabit this scrap of land). We turned once again to TripAdvisor to see what's cooking in Guymon since it was lunch time. We had crossed back into Central time, so it was almost 1:30 PM local when we picked between two restaurants. One was a steak house and the other was a Spanish/Mexican/Filipino fusion restaurant. I know. I said the same thing. However, that restaurant, called "The Galleon",  had the only perfect record I have ever seen for restaurant reviews on TripAdvisor... a perfect "5"... albeit with only 8 reviews. We decided to go for it. We hit their front door at 1:50 PM and there was literally nobody in the place which was prepared to seat about 120. Ouch. I never wear a tee shirt while traveling, but today I had one on with a line drawing of an AirStream, and cargo shorts, and a ball cap that said "Yellowstone". Mrs. C' was much better dressed but still, together we looked unworthy to enter this restaurant which was decorated to receive the elite of Guymon (whoever they might be and however they may dress). They treated us warmly and we were seated. We ordered some things we had heard of (table made guacamole and chips) and some we had not including Chicken inasal a la brasa and Almondigas. It was delightful. We got talking with the manager and our server about the restaurant, it's philosophy, how they've only been open a few months, etc.. Nice folks, a great find and yet another reminder that you have to go to places like Guymon, or Salida where we were pleasantly surprised yesterday to meet the folks and see what it's all about. Here's a link to the Galleon's website. Check out the menu there if you want to see what Spanish/Mexican/Filipino is all about: http://www.1565galleons.com/

After that it was a smooth hour and a half into Fort Supply Lake. I'll tell you more about that tomorrow since we're here for two nights. Through the day today we had descended about 3,000 feet and gained the 12 degrees we were entitled to for that drop. The descent was absolutely unnoticed. While we plunged more than that in 6 miles from Monarch Pass yesterday, today it was as if a flat plane 180 mile long had been given the slightest tip from level and we moved lower with no inkling we were not on level ground.

That's it for tonight, campers!

Later,

SC'

It's all downhill from here

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' back with you after a night off. And this time from a new state... we are back in the Land of Enchantment (which will be even more enchanting, I'm sure, once they get fast, reliable internet!) New Mexico! We are at Clayton Lake State Park in the far northeast corner of the state. That puts us about 10 or 15 miles west of the point where the panhandle of Texas, the panhandle of Oklahoma and the eastern border of New Mexico meet. Ok, it's not "the four corners" or anything, but I was hoping that description would give you an idea of where we are.

So, after I wrote to you two nights ago we had a change of plan. We had intended to drive yesterday from Ridgway State Park in Colorado to the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area just east of Salida, Colorado. However, as sometimes happens we had two reservations booked for last night. The other one was to stay put in our campsite at Ridgway. (Sometimes I deliberately make two reservations to give us flexibility, sometimes parks require a 2 or even 3 night minimum, especially around holiday weekends and sometimes I just screw up... I'm not telling why we had two reservation options last night... I'm just saying that we had two). So, yesterday morning I played Monty Hall (ok, youngsters... for your understanding of the story let me explain that he was a TV game show host) and asked Mrs. C' "Would you rather have a 3 1/2 hour drive on Sunday to a gravel parking spot on the Arkansas River with no electricity and no internet followed by another 3 1/2 hour drive on Monday orrrrrrr... Stay at this spot in Ridgway State Park all day Sunday without a care in the world then drive 7 hours on Monday?" (There was no "door #3, no "Monty's Cash Can... Nothing else... Just those two options). She said "I don't care, you pick". Obviously, she never watched "Let's Make A Deal" or she would have known that Monty never picked... The contestants did. Anyhow, I played along and said "Door number 2!" So we stayed in Ridgway yesterday and drove two days worth today.

So let's talk about today's trip. First off, there won't be any pictures tonight. There are two reasons for that 1. We have the sketchiest internet we have had all trip here at Clayton Lake State Park tonight. I'll be lucky to post this text. 2.) when we have 7 driving hours neither of us has much patience for stopping to smell the megapixels. Today even more so for reasons that will become clear as I share the story. So, we were up and readying the trailer for the road by 7:00 with a plan to roll at 8:00. We only missed our target by 15 minutes. Not bad. A quick stop for an exchange of trailer tank contents (the camp's faucet gave us fresh water and our storage tanks gave them... You get the idea) and we were off.

We headed north to Montrose, Colorado then turned east onto US 50 which would take us much of the way today. We climbed to about 8,000 feet then descended back to 7,200 to drive along the Blue Mesa Reservoir which is an amazing body of water formed by the impounding of the Gunnison River. I had never heard of this reservoir. It's a very large lake and more amazing because it's a mile and a quarter above sea level. It was well traveled by boats of all sorts even on Memorial Day when, at that altitude, the air was cool and the water had to be frigid. We continued into Gunnison, Colorado then continued on US 50 toward Monarch Pass. The climb up and over the pass began at about 8,000 feet. The steep section is not particularly long, maybe 5 or 6 miles, but it's a consistent climb without a break for the entire section. There were two uphill lanes all the way through that segment and we stuck to the right lane but managed 40-45 MPH in a 45 MPH zone. At many points there were no guardrails and serious drops. My thoughts flashed back to the two measurements of road hazard (road width and probability of death if the vehicle leaves the roadway). At points, the climb to Monarch didn't look good on either of those measurements. In those five or six miles we went from 8 thousand to 11,328 (according to my GPS altimeter). That put us 22 feet higher elevation than we had been on our Jeep excursion to Yankee Boy Basin and marked the high point (at least when measured in feet above sea level) of our entire trip. The trusty Tundra worked hard to get over the pass. I know because we stopped at the very top and I could smell the heat coming off her despite the fact that the gauges never budged above their normal readings. The trip down the other side was equally steep, although the slope is advertised as a 6% grade on the many warning signs and we have done 9% on two occasions without too much challenge. However a steady 6% for 6 miles or so is a bit challenging.

Shortly before noon we rolled into Salida, Colorado. I have pics that I'll post when Internet reliability permits. Let me describe Salida (pronounced locally as suh-Lye'-duh) briefly. It is a charming town of what appears to be about 40,000 population. Without internet I can't research what brings or keeps people there. We went into "Historic Old Salida" only because the restaurant that we picked for lunch with the help of TripAdvisor was there. It took most of the skill I've gained through 20,000+ incident-free miles of dragging the Cliche' behind the trusty Tundra to get through Historic Old Salida while still being entitled to use the phrase "incident free". We found a municipal parking lot (gravel on an abandoned commercial property that had been bulldozed clean from whatever had once stood there)  and took up 6 parking spots in the back row. We walked the dogs, gave them fresh water, told them to clear the trailer while we were gone and headed off knowing they never do what we tell them to.

Lunch was delightful. We ate at a place in a commercial/retail section of the old city. The historic zone appeared to be about a dozen square city blocks - maybe three one way and four the other. We parked on the edge of that and ate near the middle. The buildings were mostly brick and two or three stories. Some bore dates like 1895 suggesting this town may have had mining roots like Ouray where we visited the other day. Hey, I don't have Internet worth a fig, but I bet you do. Rather than me taking guesses, feel free to help me out here and go to google then type Salida Colorado and read the Wikipedia page... You'll know what I don't. Anyway, lunch was great (I had fish and chips which were just right with the beer batter and Mrs C' had the fish tacos). After lunch we practiced some retail therapy which was easy given that the historic area had a huge selection of funky shops with everything from antiques to clothing to ski stuff.

With 4 driving hours still ahead of us we decided to cut short the shopping leaving many funky shops unexplored. Maybe Salida left us wanting more, or maybe we just needed the break in the middle of a very long driving day, but we both had a very good feeling about Salida and would clearly have liked to stay and explore more.

We jumped back on US 50 heading east. It follows the Arkansas River through a 10 mile long gorge that is quite scenic. It's worth noting that the mountains of Colorado are the source for three of the six largest rivers in the US (measured by area drained or flow or something... I can't recall). Earlier in this trip we had close contact with two of the three. The Rio Grand flows south out of Colorado and we had camped on its shores north of Albuquerque then followed it upstream into Del Norte, Colorado. The Colorado flows southwest out of the Rockies and we had seen it at Lake Powell and the Grand Canyon. Now the Arkansas which we first contacted today as it headed southeast from Salina. We will revisit it repeatedly in the next week including camping on its banks in Arkansas next weekend. It says a lot about both the elevation and precipitation in Colorado that so much water power starts there.

The main story about the rest of the drive is that our Rocky Mountain Adventure clearly ended this afternoon. As Salida slipped off the screen of the trusty Tundra's moving map GPS we were already experiencing a terrain change. For almost an hour we drove southeast on Colorado 69. It was a miserable road for a vehicle our size since the lanes were narrow, the hills and curves plentiful and the appropriate speed for the cautious driver varied from 35 to 65. There was no cruise control for that hour. However as we drove that stretch the Sangre de Cristo mountains of Colorado (the northerly extension of the range we followed out of New Mexico and into Colorado three weeks ago) went from a few miles away and towering above us to 5, then 10, then 15 miles to our west. As they receded from view, the closest of their peaks got shorter and less snow covered. It was clearly the hour we left the Rockies.

About 4:30 PM we hit I25 South which carried us out of Colorado and into New Mexico, albeit with one more jaunt up to 7,800 feet at Raton Pass where the two states meet. From there we descended and jumped off the interstate onto US 87 heading east. The land grew flatter and more barren. Northeastern New Mexico is cattle county and a sportsman's paradise. For mile after mile there were cattle grazing on the left (north) side of the road and pronghorn antelope grazing on the right. There were miles and miles on end with nothing more than 100' elevation variance and no sign of human habitation.

Our home for the night - Clayton Lake - sits in the middle of that expanse on the western edge of the Great Plains. We are 12 miles north of US 87 near the town of Clayton. The lake is modest size... maybe a mile long based on what we can see from here and half that in width. There are just 7 campsites and a boat ramp here. A sign points to "dinosaur tracks" but we did not get to explore it tonight given our late arrival and need to feed both the dogs and ourselves. I'm sure we'll check it out when daylight allows.

So, that's how we went from pictures of snow capped peaks to dry, flat grassland. Tomorrow it's on to the last new state for the Cliche' on this trip - Okalhoma! We know the plains are waiting for us, as is Fort Supply Lake. Check in tomorrow to see if the wind came sweeping down on us.

Later...

SC'

On our way to the top!

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you and tonight again from Ridgway, State Park in Ridgway, Colorado.

The day started early inside the Cliche' with the dogs deciding that if the sun was starting to light the sky then they should be up and asking us to tend to them. No worries, we had an early start planned (just not quite that early). After our morning coffee, reading and pancakes (generally in that order) we did the best we could to make ourselves presentable and jumped in the trusty Tundra for the 15 minute ride to Ouray. Here's a shot Mrs. C' took on the way to Ouray. Note the pristine view of cattle grazing under a morning sky with snow capped peaks in the distance. We are told that people who frequent Colorado's dispensaries find this view especially inspiring, sometimes to the point that they spontaneously break out in poetry:

The morning was clear, with a forecast of afternoon rain and we had a 4x4 Jeep reserved for an off road trip into the high country. In this case that term doesn't refer to the State of Colorado generally, but to a spot 3,600 feet above the already high starting point of Ouray at 7,700 feet. Our destination was a place called Yankee Boy Basin.

Thanks to TripAdvisor we had linked up with a company in town called Colorado West Jeeps. What a nice group of folks. They had been helpful before our arrival answering questions by e-mail and generally inspiring confidence that they would be ready and we would manage just fine. Once we started interacting with them we realized that this is truly a family business. I believe everyone we interacted with was family whether behind the counter or in the garage. I mentioned yesterday that part of the clan also are Floridians who run the business here in Colorado seasonally. The pre-arrival inspiration was reinforced by “Jeep Day” delivery. We had a brand new 4x4 Wrangler (blue with a black top) with only 500 lifetime miles on it. It was clean, gassed and ready to go. We got a short checkout talk (mostly about putting it in and out of 4WD) and we were off.

Reflecting on what happened next reminds me of the story of “boiling the frog”. If you have not been exposed to this science please understand that it was performed long before People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals existed. In fact, the science dates to the 1870s and was done in Germany. In retrospect, what Germans did to frogs in the name of science pales in comparison to what came later. Anyhow, Google it if you need details (I did… as I typed “b-o-i-l-i-n-g t-h-e…” and it started searching, “...frog” was already the third most popular search). The essence is that if you introduce change at a slow enough rate, a living creature may not react but if you make sudden changes (let's say, in the temperature of a frog's watery home or in road conditions on a mountainside) then reaction will occur. Well, the road to Yankee Boy Basin evolved slowly. Here we are at the first stop where we said “This is beautiful… let's stop, get out and take pictures!”

Later, I would consider two new definitions of road conditions: 1.) how wide is the road measured in “Jeep widths” and 2.) what is the probability of death if the Jeep were to leave the road surface. At the point the above picture was taken, the road was 4 JW (Jeep Widths). That made the passing side-to-side of two vehicles very easy with ½ JW on the outside of each and 1 JW between. No problemo! Also the probability of death if the Jeep left the road surface was low… less than 10% and that is only due to the risk of hypotnermia if the Jeep landed in a stream fed by snowmelt from the Yankee Boy Basin where the snow is still 4 feet deep. We pressed on…

The next photo op occurred here:

We stopped to photograph the amazing cliffs and the thin veil of pale green that was hanging on the white birches that were just starting to leaf at this altitude. Now look back at the pic. Note the road. It is now ranging between 2 and 3 JWs. The probability of death in the event of loss of control is precisely 50%. That is 0% if you land in the low ditch on the right side of the road as shown in this picture and 100% if your Jeep was to leave the left side which is a 1,000 foot cliff. Just as the German scientists didn't waste any money on frog alarms or frog ladders, the Ouray Country Highway Department (Yes, this is a county road, technically we were not “off roading”… we were “roading”. It only looks to you and me like it's not a road because we don't live in the Western Slope in Colorado.) didn't waste any money on shoulders or guard rails. This change from 4JW to 2JW occurred gradually over a mile or three and we had adjusted. We pressed ahead!

Soon we came to this stretch of road. 

 

Yes, that is a rock overhang with the road proceeding under it. Remember, this is still spring in Colorado and there is beaucoup snow in higher elevations. The underside of this overhang was raining snowmelt onto the road. We felt it was time for the windows to come up and the windshield wipers to come on but we pressed ahead!

This is where thinking frogs bolt, but we were hooked. Even this sign did not deter us:

I am not sure what manner of vehicle, animal or passtime they did not warn us about. I think maybe the sign should include a Santa Clause icon, or a toothless fellow playing the banjo, but other than that the warning is clear and thorough. We pressed ahead.

I don't have a picture of what happened next to share with you. In words, I'll say: We came to a fork in the road. Several cars were pulled off on the left fork and parked there with no driver or occupant in sight. I think we should have recognized that those were the vehicles belonging to “the aware frogs”. That theory was confirmed later when we met the couple who owned one of those vehicles and who told us they parked it there out of an abundance of caution given the appearance of the road ahead on the right fork. We, however, saw a sign at the fork and it clearly pointed to Yankee Boy Basin up the right fork. We knew we were headed for Yankee Boy Basin. The appearance of the road was of no concern… we pressed ahead.

If I didn't mention it earlier, somewhere near the bottom of the hill I commented to Mrs. C' “I think we could have brought the trusty Tundra up here… after all, it has 4WD and is a pretty capable machine.” As soon as we entered the right fork that notion was gone… gone… gone. The Tundra itself is 1.5 JWs. The road was narrow. Maybe 1.5 JWs on average, 1.25 in the narrow spots with snow banks on either side. About every 100 feet was an area 1.75 to 2.01 JWs. Note that this is not only a county road, it is a two lane county road. As the warning sign pointed out, one must be ready to BACK UP if needed to find one of those spots that was 2.0+ wide and use it effectively. Clearly people who drive this regularly have a keen eye on the difference between a 1.95 JW and a 2.05 JW section. We were fortunate and only met two vehicles coming down that section. The fact that we got our damage deposit back at the end of the trip speaks to the skill of the downhill drivers. We did stop for one set of pics at a wide spot in the road. Note that while the terrain is rough (the “road” was more like a stream with a bottom of mud and angular rocks) that the probability of death from going off the road had dropped to zero since the snow banks eliminated any possibility of actually leaving the track.

So, we got to the top. I pulled out my GPS to get an altimeter reading – 11,306'. People who come in July or August can take the longer route over the Imogene Pass which is still snowed in now. It's over 13,000' and must be an even bigger treat. Here's a pic of the rugged little Jeep at the top. That's Mrs. C' in the Jeep giving me a hand gesture. No… not that hand gesture (what kind of a lady do you think she is? Plus, I had driven well, in my own mind, and any whiplash I gave her driving through potholes rather than around them was minor) she was flashing the “V” for Victory sign!

 

After a brief attempt at catching our breath we decided to head down. The sky was clouding up and looking like the weatherman's prediction of rain would come true. We have one more excursion to this altitude tomorrow as we cross the continental divide. I can say I will not miss the thin air of Colorado even if lots of other aspects of our time here will bring us back again. The trip down was a bit easier. We knew what to expect, its generally easier going downhill as long as you maintain slow speed and control. When we got into some of those steep drop off zones, Mrs. C' asked me to stay far to the left. She had a theory that since she was on the side with the drop, that it would be worse for her if we went over the edge. I'm thinking we need to get some German scientists to test that idea. I don't think the outcome of that error depends on whether one is strapped into the first seat over the cliff or the second.

Today ends the major part of the trip. We drove from Florida to see some amazing sites in the west. We enjoyed the trip across country and stopped en route to visit family. The western sightseeing started in Mesa Verde three weeks ago and included National Parks, National Monuments, interesting places, points of interest and a lot of eye popping stuff. Tomorrow begins the cross-country trip home. It's planned for two weeks. I'll still write most every night and post pics when interesting stuff passes before us, but it'll be hard to match what we've seen and done in Colorado, Arizona, Utah and back to Colorado. I'm going to take tomorrow night off because I believe we will be in a place with no internet (and no electricity and no water and no dump station). If you want tomake your own fly by of our route, we'll be leaving Ridgway, crossing over Monarch Pass and heading to Salida, Colorado then camping literally on the banks of the Arkansas River about 8 miles east of Salida at the Rincon Campground of the Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area. Monday night (when I hope to write again) we will be in the northeast corner of New Mexico at Clayton Lake before heading into Oklahoma for the trip across the plains.

Thanks for following us and for all the encouragement you send in calls and texts. We look forward to an uneventful (but interesting) cross country trip, a few weeks at home then a trip to Massachusetts starting July 5.

Later!

SC'