Rolling again

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you again tonight. And I'm delighted to report our location is somewhere other than St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin. Sadly, it's not St. Croix in the US Virgin Islands, but we are at Lake Kegonsa State Park just outside of Madison, Wisconsin in the south central part of the state.

The morning broke today in St. Croix Falls right where it left off last night... 45 degrees and drizzling. We had made the commitment to leave this morning in part because we had moved all of the fresh water in the trailer into one or the other of the two "not so fresh" tanks (enough said) and we had to move the trailer to address that. As long as we were hitching up we figured we might as well get started on the next phase of our journey.

So we headed east then south rolling across Wisconsin. We passed by or through towns and cities you may actually have heard of (and a bunch I'd bet you have not). I'm thinking of places like Eau Claire, Chippewa Falls, the Wisconsin Dells and ultimately the state capital, Madison. Today is our 4th day in Wisconsin. It has rained every day we have been here. Looking at the weather channel forecast for Mackinac Island, Michigan (which was a destination that is basically the reason we entered this hell hole of a state in the first place) it showed today was rainy and 47. Tomorrow is forecast to be rainy and 52, Tuesday will be rainy and 56 and Wednesday will be rainy and 57. I'm sensing that the way one tells its spring in Wisconsin and Michigan is that the rain you are feeling from head to foot becomes warmer.

If you've read about our adventures before you probably realize that wherever we visit I like to immerse myself in the local food, history, geography and customs. Being here in Wisconsin and experiencing spring as the locals do I got to thinking... I bet this dismal environment appears through the subconscious of denizens of "the Badger State" in ways even they don't understand or appreciate... maybe I can find some and enlighten them. I had this realization when three days of captivity in a small metal box with the constant sound of rain on the metal roof had started to take their toll. I began to feel deeper sympathy for Noah from the Old Testament. While the Bible highlighted the best of his accomplishments, I can't help but imagine when it was over he said to himself "There's 40 days of my life I'll never get back.".  It occurred to me that even the state nickname "the Badger State" might be one of those cultural expressions emerging from the effects of the climate. I always thought it referred to the fighting spirit of the member of the weasel family that the University adopted as it's mascot. Now I'm thinking it is a byproduct of confinement of groups of people indoors for long periods of time. Or, let's take the state song... "On Wisconsin". I'm thinking it was originally "On from Wisconsin" and was a wishful lament of an early pioneer. When I actually listened to it, I realized it's a more modern tune but it was clearly written to a beat formed by windshield wipers set to their high speed. When a place like this gets into your psyche it comes out in unexpected ways... but it comes out.

So we drove through the very heart of Wisconsin. Clearly this is an agricultural wonderland. It's evident that agriculture here is a different thing than where we have been in the earlier parts of this trip. For example, the fields are smaller than in Nebraska or Iowa. In many areas they are tucked into dales, wrapped around hills and set in tiers on gentle slopes. The tractors, plows and combines at the ever-present John Deere (the green equipment with the yellow trim) and Case/IH (the dark red with black) dealers are just a tad smaller here. I didn't see a Quad Trac tractor all day. It's also evident that the cattle we saw were less often for beef and more often for dairy. Remember, this is the state where people wear hats that look like wedges of cheese. Occasionally we saw industry that was unlike anything we've seen before. Here are a couple of pics of these facilities:

At first I thought these were ethanol production plants. The buildings were belching steam and the piles of bulk material outside looked like wheat or other grains. You know about the US ethanol business... right? That's where we take food that we used to sell cheaply to poor countries like Haiti and at the mandate of the US Federal Government we turn it into motor fuel and burn it. That process lets environmentalists feel good that we are growing motor fuel rather than burning dinosaur squeezings and it helps farm state Senators get reelected while causing food prices to go up for poor families in other countries that most American environmentalists and Senators don't give a crap about (unless rising sea levels threaten their hovels... in which case we make a documentary about them to show to rich people at Davos). Anyway... it wasn't that after all. Central Wisconsin is one of only a few places that mine, dry and distribute silica sand. What's silica sand used for, you ask? Fracking. Yep... far from being a source of carbon-neutral motor fuel, these businesses prepare and ship very specialized sand that is forced down wells all over the US to drive out natural gas. That natural gas is in turn used to make electricity that California environmentalists buy to charge their Teslas. The hypocrisy is evidently lost on everyone in California when they tell their friends over a glass of Pino Griggio "I drove a zero emission car to the party!" "Ooooooo... how responsible of you!" the friends reply. The people of Central Wisconsin clearly need and appreciate the work. They don't seem to mind the hypocrisy.

So we bounced along for most of the afternoon. I'm sure the highways were mostly built by students of the engineers who misaligned the slabs of I-20 in Louisiana. We rocked and rolled from Eau Claire to Madison. Mrs. C' was trying to type something and uttered several oaths at the Department of Transportation officials whose concrete caused her to mistype every third keystroke. As we got closer to the campground we shifted to state highways. Fortunately, they were asphalt, not concrete slabs. Unfortunately they had been repaired so many times that they looked like Dolly Parton's childhood coat (except we couldn't feel the love each road crew placed in every patch).

But we made it! Now one day's travel removed from St. Croix Falls. Two day's away from Buffalo with stops planned at state parks in Indiana tomorrow night and Ohio on Tuesday. It was 52 and cloudy here when we parked the rig. After several day's of low to mid 40s and rain, 52 and overcast looks and feels wonderful. 

I'm hoping one day to have both subject matter and lighting to take real pictures again. We seem a baby step closer today since we have now gone 6 hours without being rained on. Maybe tomorrow we can shoot for a full day.

Until then...

SC'

In praise of seat heaters!

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' with you again. Tonight's report comes to you from... wait for it... St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin... again...for the third night in a row.

So, the sun didn't exactly rise this morning... it mostly engaged in a failed attempt to shine through several miles of thick, grey, cloud cover. Those were presumably the same clouds that were spitting on us starting shortly after they defeated the sun's initial assault (who says you can't fight a war on two fronts at the same time?).

As I predicted, we waited until the initial jolt from the Starbucks hit us (thank God we carry that stuff by the pound... we had six bags on board when we left Florida. We replenish at every WalMart stop to make sure we have enough to carry us through the first two waves of a Zombie attack should we encounter one. Those red-eyed, drooling bastards won't stand a chance against us as long as Mr. Starbuck and Mr. Remington are both on board)... anyway we waited for the Starbucks then considered our options. The Weather Channel was the indispensable resource for the discussion. It said it was going to be crappy throughout Wisconsin and every surrounding state today, tonight and tomorrow morning; it was going to be crappier than average here in west central Wisconsin; and it was going to be crappiest of all and for the longest time in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan where we were to go next. Decision: Stay here today and leave tomorrow to try and follow a gap between this storm and the next one under the Great Lakes to our next stop... Buffalo, New York (where, as many of you know, Mrs. C' and I met and married and a place with people we hold in the highest regard).

It turned out the two days up to Mackinac Island and the two days back down was too much pain (of the wet, cold kind) for what looked like a single, cold, grey day to see the Island. The trip to the UP of MI was an option as we planned this trip. We decided to include that swing since neither of us have ever been there. What we might have determined with more research is that warm weather is forecast there for July 25th this year. It turns out we are missing the beautiful summer day by almost two months. Oh well... maybe next year. You may think we are disappointed. Well, maybe just a bit. You see, if we had not included the UP option in the itinerary we would have left Florida later and hit all of the stops to date later. That means we would probably have been in Rocky Mountain National Park the other day when it got 21" of late season snow. So... being in west central Wisconsin in the rain in a camp site with good Verizon Wireless internet, 30 Amp electric service and several small towns nearby beats being snowed in to a primitive camp site at Rocky Mountain National Park. We turn our plans over to higher authority and have faith that we will be guided safely. I think that worked this time (again).

Speaking of wet, cold, west/central Wisconsin, once we made the decision to stay put today and run like scalded dogs tomorrow, we were faced with the challenge of deciding how to avoid the feeling of being imprisoned in the Airstream cell of the Wisconsin penile system. We made a plan to head into the heart of the storm. Despite protests from Romeo who was left behind to guard our home, we ventured out. Let me say that the people of the north woods here are hearty folk. Although we had locked ourselves in the trailer for most of the morning and enjoyed the gas heat, many of our neighbors were actually tenting. The temperature was 45 degrees and the rain was coming down steadily and continuously. If you want to have the "Silver Cliche' Wisconsin Camping Experience" but on heavy clothes (fleece will do... it's not goose down weather) and read the rest of this blog post while standing in a cold shower. Optionally, you may point a window fan into the shower to create some horizontal rain and wind chill. Our neighbors literally were standing in the rain trying to keep a fire going while eating food from cans (beans, I assume... for the added warmth). I've seen homeless people with more effective sheltering.

So, we headed off to Osceola, Wisconsin about 10 miles south for some lunch. We ate at a little cafe that had good reviews online. The homemade soup was warming. The grilled sandwiches were too. The highlight may have been the homemade potato chips. From there were headed about 10 miles west, back into Minnesota, for a bit of shopping. Mrs. C' has been deprived for a long while (she is an avid but cautious shopper) so this seemed the perfect day for some retail therapy to take our minds off the chill. I might add that the trusty Tundra has seat heaters. When we bought the truck almost 4 years ago I told the dealer what color, trim level and features I wanted. Seat heaters were not on the list and are considered dangerous by most Floridians. The reason I say "dangerous" is because they may be turned on by accident on a day that is already hot and humid. The additional heat around one's... um.... ah.... posterior!(phew, I was struggling to not violate my "family friendly" commitment) can cause excessive sweating which can easily be misinterpreted by passers by as you walk into the grocery store in light colored, "Florida-friendly" fabrics. Let me ask you, the last time you saw someone wearing clothes that were obviously damp in the seat did you say to yourself "Oh... I bet that man didn't realize the seat heater in his car was turned on accidentally"? Of course you didn't. My point exactly. Seat heaters in Florida are dangerous to one's reputation and can easily become the subject of a significant misunderstanding. I didn't want them. The Toyota dealer said "Mr. Cliche', we've found the precise truck you asked us to find... and it even has seat heaters!". Obviously I took the truck with the heaters and never used them (unless by accident and unawares) until today. All I can say is: that feels nice on a damp 45 degree day!

The Scandinavian influence is obvious in Minnesota. The town we went to was "Lindstrom". About half of the street names contain an "o" with a slash through it. Both Lindstrom and the town next to it have signs on the main road declaring themselves sister cities with places in Sweden. Lindstrom had several shops that provided just the right amount of therapy. We wrapped up after a couple of hours and headed back across the St. Croix River to our home in the wet north woods. Romeo was delighted to see us. Our neighbors with the beans and tent had left (we didn't think less of them for having bailed out) and we settled back into the comfort of gas heat.

Tomorrow we'll plan to head south-east to a spot in Wisconsin near the Illinois border. We're expecting rain early but dryer, warmer conditions as we move along. On Monday we'll brave the trip through Chicago and shoot across the top of Indiana. On Tuesday we'll be in Ohio and hopefully on Wednesday (two days early) we'll reach Buffalo.

So, that's the story of our first trip to Wisconsin with the Airstream and our failed attempt to see the UP of MI. Oh well. We had warm coffee, a sampling of local life in the St, Croix valley and a place to park. Life can be a lot worse than that. We could have been eating beans out of a can while standing in the rain and watching our camp fire go out.

Later...

SC'

But maybe not 33...

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you again tonight and for the second night in a row parked in site 36 at Wisconsin Interstate Park near St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin.

Well, as I ended last night, I knew we had a decision to make. Out itinerary for the next several days was set long ago with the benefit of the almanac which said the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is generally pleasant at this time of year. I should have considered the full meaning of the word "generally" in that sentence. Here's what we had planned (with thanks to Google Maps for plotting our course):

Starting at our current location in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin, we were to spend tonight and tomorrow night right on Lake Superior at the base of the Keweenaw Peninsula. That;s the thing that sticks into Lake Superior like a wagging finger saying "you'll regret this!". On Sunday we were to travel a bit east and camp at Bay Furnace then Monday on to Straits State Park where Lakes Michigan and Huron meet for two nights including a day wandering around Mackinac Island (the Great Lakes answer to vacationing at Nantucket). 

The challenge is that the weather is not it's "generally pleasant" self. It's "specifically awful". Here, let me show you...

Here's what the Weather Channel is showing for the Saturday forecast...

The Sunday forecast...

The Monday forecast...
 

And the Tuesday forecast...
 

Do you notice an area that is expecting rain every day for the next four? That's right... precisely where we were planning to be. And if the rain wasn't enough of a deterrent, the temperatures are forecast to be in the 30's or low 40's over night and the low 50's during the day. I could have that kind of trip if I checked into a Holiday Inn and took a shower then went to the restaurant kitchen and asked if I could step into the walk in cooler to dry off. Those of you who were Rocky and Bullwinkle fans in the 1960's may be interested to learn that Houghton, Michigan -- the gem of the Keweenaw Peninsula -- was the model for "Frostbite Falls" on the old TV show... who knew?

So... after the coffee started to take effect this morning we convened a meeting of the Board of Directors to consider our options. The contenders were: a.) press ahead with a 4 1/2 hour drive today to reach the Keweenaw Peninsula b.) toss the idea of the UP of Michigan entirely and start heading south and east (note that campsite reservation windows close 2 or 3 days ahead of time... heading anywhere unplanned today meant putting ourselves at the mercy of finding a "walk up" site open or driving until we found one or gave up and camped at a WalMart or Cracker Barrel) or c.) staying in St. Croix Falls for another day and reconsidering our options tomorrow. You probably guessed already that we picked option "c". Luckily, nobody had this site reserved for tonight, so we were able to pay our $30 and sit it out hoping the weather man is wrong and the UP forecast clears and warms. So far, no luck. We'll reconvene the Board over coffee in the morning.

So what does one do on a grey, cold day in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin? Not much. We elected to feed ourselves breakfast and lunch in the trailer while generally being lazy. Somehow, this town of 2,000 and something souls manages to keep an 8-plex movie theater in business. We saw "Aliens Covenant" (save your $8 and watch the original Aliens on Netflix unless you are stuck in St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin on a grey, cold day in which case you must get out and see it!). Dinner was a "one pot wonder" cooked on the galley stove (chicken breasts with brown rice and peas... it received better reviews than "Aliens Covenant") followed by strawberry shortcake cooked in the galley oven (two thumbs up!). We also refilled an empty propane tank, because with weather like this, one can never been over-prepared to deliver heat!

The propane place was in the next town south (Osceola, Wisconsin... also a town of 2,000-ish souls). It has a cute, old downtown mercantile district. The cleanliness and pride of place shows through even on a dreary day. I had a chance to chat with a few locals (not surprisingly, until I told them, they were not aware that they are free to leave and that there are places like Florida where an American can travel without a passport... I feel I did my duty to advance civics in America).

So, that's how you waste a day to buy time and hope for better news. Tomorrow we'll face the same three choices... press on, replan or hunker down. I'll let you know how that turns out tomorrow night!

Later...

SC'

31 and 32

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' with you again. Writing to you tonight from Interstate State Park on the Wisconsin side of the Saint Croix River within a 3 wood shot of Minnesota. It's not often I post twice in a day, but today is one of those times. I was good and lazy last night, so I didn't get yesterday's story told until this morning. Today I'm back to my old self and writing as the sun sets.

The day started cold and wet. Our campsite in Marble Beach State Recreation Area was grass. All the sites there were. After 24 hours of intermittent heavy rain the sites were clearly more beach than marble. We were warm and cozy in our aluminum home. There was electricity, coffee, pancakes and internet. What more could we need? 

We hit the road about 11:00 and let Waze tell us how to get to our next destination... Interstate State Park, Wisconsin (there is another Interstate State Park just across the river... it's important to enter the proper state). Today's drive was showing about 4 hours. There were alternatives, but the fastest route was mostly on interstate highways. We headed east across I-90 for about 90 minutes then north on I-35 for another 90. The Interstate system serves as a crude measure of progress. The major east/west routes carry two digit designations ending in a zero. We started heading west on the southernmost of those -- I-10 -- and we are working our way east on the northernmost -- I-90. The most significant north/south routes are also two digits and end in a 5. We crossed I-95 on day 1 of the trip and got as far west as I-25 in Denver and Colorado Springs. The weather was cold and damp all day long... temps in the mid 50's. In Florida we call a day that doesn't reach 60 "record breaking cold". Here in the nations thorax it's called mid-May. 

You may have been watching the news and weather today wherever you are in the country. The intense storms that we were in, then drove under then got hit by yesterday evening have affected tens of millions of people. If you think back to the stories and pics from where we were in Colorado less than a week ago you'll be surprised to know that Estes Park received 21" of snow today. We had a plan in case we faced some snow while there (we didn't see any falling). The plan was "stay put until it melts". We had no plan for 21". Lucky we missed that!

Within 5 minutes of leaving the campsite we were in Minnesota. That's state # 31 for the Airstream. Our drive stayed in Minnesota until 5 minutes before we reached our campsite. Despite the overcast and occasional rain, most of what we saw in Minnesota was peaceful and showed signs awakening from winter. The ground in farm country was gorgeous. The soil here is the color of a chocolate bar. Not that medium brown of the milk chocolate favored for s'mores. The dark brown of the semi-sweet chocolate that you occasionally got in a Halloween bag and later felt cheated when you bit into it and realized that the thing you like best about chocolate is the sugar. Despite being farther north than any time in the trip so far, many of the farms here showed signs of crops emerging that were well ahead of farms in Iowa, Nebraska or Colorado.

Uncharacteristically, we didn't stop for lunch. We drove continuously with only a stop for gas. Given the inhospitable climate for Floridians, Mrs. C' and Romeo didn't even get out of the truck. After passing through St. Paul, Minnesota (the state capital and home until last year of Garrison Keillor's program "A Prairie Home Companion"). With absolutely no fanfare we crossed the Mississippi River. That waterway deserves its nickname "Old Man River" in the mid- and deep-South, it's a child up here so close to its source in Lake Itasca, Minnesota.

We crossed out of Minnesota and into Wisconsin (state # 32) about 3:15. It was 50 degrees, overcast and threatening rain. We were miserable, but got the trailer settled, hooked up the power and headed in to the heat and late lunch. Somewhere around 7:00 PM the clouds parted and I felt inspired to take a walk to the river for some pics. Arguably, the prime time for river pics had passed 30 minutes earlier when the sun left the water, but when you are a travel blogger you take what you get. Here are pics of the St. Croix River looking upstream/north (Minnesota on the left and Wisconsin on the right) then looking downstream/south (Wisconsin on the left and Minnesota on the right):

Our campsite is almost visible in the upper picture on the far right in the grove of trees above the river.

This was the first interstate park in the country (with two states operating contiguous parklands in a coordinated way) and it was Wisconsin's first state park. The primary features are visible in the pictures above... volcanic rock exposed and worn by water. Evidence of ice age erosion is also on display here with "the ice age trail" running through the park.

So, tomorrow we face a challenge. The "plan of record" says we head to the Porcupine Mountains near Houghton, Michigan (state #33). Houghton sits on the Keweenaw Peninsula which juts into Lake Superior near its western end. We have a campsite reserved directly on the Lake for two nights before moving east to another site on the Lake for Sunday night then camping tight at the Mackinac Straits for Monday and Tuesday. The problem with that plan is that we are now on the back side of that nasty cold front and the weather in the UP of Michigan is forecast to be lows in the 30's, highs in the 40's and rainy on an off for the next 4 or 5 days.. I'm considering alternatives, but good weather is far away.

Stay tuned to see where we land tomorrow night!

Later...

SC'

"Oh... that tornado warning is to the north" 'Huh? We're heading north"

Morning, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you again. Today's report is coming to you from the Hawkeye State... no?... Iowa! Specifically, we are on the shores of Spirit Lake in north/central Iowa literally within a mile or so of the Minnesota border.

After spending two relaxing days "down on the farm" in Nebraska we decided to hit the road. It was great seeing old friends and they fed us like kings on Nebraska beef, Nebraska pork, Nebraska asparagus (picked fresh)... you get the idea. If you ever had pity on the people in the middle of the country because they don't often see the ocean, or go to to plays on Broadway, don't. The best kept secret of middle America may be that since our food comes from there, they keep the best of it for themselves. Shhhhhhhhh!

Anyway, we had a nice breakfast and chat yesterday morning then hit the road in the rain to press northeast. If you have been watching the news or weather the past couple of days you may know that there has been a massive cold front that formed a line from the northeast to the southwest. I looked at the national realtime lightning and rain map on Tuesday night and the storm literally ran from southern Ontario to the center of Texas. Almost border to border. There were multiple points along the storm where tornadoes broke out on Tuesday and overnight into Wednesday. Welcome to tornado alley. We headed into that on a trajectory that almost precisely followed the axis of the storm.

Through the drive on Wednesday we saw conditions from clear and sunny to rain so hard I was driving half the posted speed limit. We were not on an interstate highway all day... state roads, county roads, "city" streets in small towns with names that I never heard before and will not remember tomorrow. The big city of the day was Sioux City, Iowa. This is a place that will forever be in my mind as the city where United flight 232 crashed in 1989. That ill fated flight is (in my opinion) one of the most amazing feats of piloting ever recorded. A catastrophic engine failure in the tail-mounted, center engine on a DC-10 caused total loss of hydraulic capability. That is the power for all control surfaces. The pilots managed to use differential thrust of the two working wing-mounted engines to get the plane to Iowa and "land" ("crash" better describes it) at the Sioux City  airport. Tragically, there were 111 fatalities. However, 186 passengers and crew survived what any student of aviation would have predicted to be a loss of all souls aboard. I have no idea what else Sioux City has to commend it... and we didn't stop to learn.

We did, however stop for lunch in La Mars, Iowa about 30 miles down the road. Surprisingly, when I researched dining options I learned that La Mars is home to one of the top 10 steak houses in the country. Let's go! Sadly, they are open only for dinner (lazy bastards... what about those of us passing through for lunch?). We ate at the second best restaurant in town (this is a small town... the second best restaurant happened to also be the second worst). While dining on burgers and such we saw a tornado alert flash across the TV above our table. We asked the waitress about the location it mentioned. She said not to worry... that's an hour to our north. But... that's where we are going, I said to Mrs. C'.

So we stopped at Wal-Mart to round up supplies for the coming day and headed north into the warning zone and toward Spirit Lake. Through most of the day the weather was cold and wet... mid fifties to low sixties with intermittent rain, occasional downpours with raindrops that hit like small hailstones and sporadic small towns. One such small town represented what we saw all day, so I grabbed the iPhone from its holster, drew and fired! Ladies and gentlemen... Emerson, Nebraska on a rainy Wednesday noon:

Evidently, the cruise speed of the Silver Cliche' rig is faster than the forward progress of a late May cold front in Iowa because it became obvious that we were nearing the frontal boundary. How did we know, you ask? Well, today's Silver Cliche' Driving Experience set tells the story. We were heading east with the front forming a diagonal line in front of us. The view to the left is north, center is east and right is south:

 In the 20 minutes that followed that series of shots we watched the front pass above us and the temperature went from 57 degrees to 73. Mrs. C' caught the best pic of the shelf cloud as we neared it:

We got to Spirit Lake with the temperature still warm and the sky partly cloudy. Within 10 minutes of parking the rig we felt the temperature drop, the wind pick up and the rain begin again. It found us! Of the 262 campsites in Marble Beach State Recreation Area on the west side of the lake there were... ummmm... two occupied. The local reaction to camping on a night like last night was Hell no! Iowa campers are sissies. 

As for Spirit Lake, we can see it through the trees. I have no desire to explore it further. I'm sure there is local lore about it's naming... maybe there are creepy sounds emanating from the woods around it at midnight on Halloween that suggest it is inhabited  by spirits... I don't know. For me, one look at this place makes me wish for a bottle of spirits to kill the feeling of foreboding, isolation and despair. I think the people who live here deserve a medal for not leaving... or a psychological examination. 

So, that's how one finds themselves in Spirit Lake, Iowa. I think the sign on the way into town said "Welcome to Spirit Lake... enjoy yourself! You won't be back. Today we head northeast and will either pass directly through Minneapolis or St. Paul, Minnesota on the way to St. Croix Falls, Wisconsin which sits on the Minnesota/Wisconsin state line. I'm hoping that people in Spirit Lake, Iowa don't elbow each other and say "Well... at least we don't live in St. Croix Falls, eh?"

Later...

SC'

Places revisited

Evening, Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you. You may remember that this trip combines stops at new places (like Rocky Mountain National Park) with a bunch of return visits to places we've stopped before (like our niece's in Del Norte, Colorado).  Well, tonight we are at one of those spots we've been before... the home of one of Mrs. C's former coworkers and her husband in Clarkson, Nebraska.

Clarkson is a town of,about 650 population located an hour and a half drive northwest of Omaha and about the same southwest of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It's principal product is without a doubt corn. Second to that is hospitality. Our host and hostess greeted us with a great Nebraska day, a fantastic spot to relax with lemonade, lawnchairs and laughter and a great dinner followed by more lawnchair time. Now  we are relaxing in our own guest house (that's what we call the Airstream when it's parked in someone else's driveway) and getting ready to turn in.

We drove a bit over 4 hours east from North Platte with a mix of Interstate (I-80 eastbound) and State roads. The last time we were in Nebraska it was July and the corn was as high as an elephant's forehead. All day long we saw farmers planting the corn that will be that tall this July. They take their farming seriously here. Fields the size of eastern US cities are criss-crossed by tractors as big as locomotives pulling all variety of plows, sowing machines and 

spreaders. While we did see some feed lots today we were blessed by that fact that all were downwind.

The most striking aspect of today's trip was the fact that a long stretch of secondary road (US 30) became an exercise in navigating from beacon to beacon as we moved from Grand Island toward our destination. Here on the plains of Nebraska the beacons are not lighthouses, they are grain elevators. For about an hour we traveled bone-straight US 30 moving northeast. As we rolled along we would pass a grain elevator and about the time we passed one the next one would appear on the horizon. Like lighthouses in the prairie, these mammoth structures provided assurance that we were heading in the right direction. We stopped in the shadow of one of the monsters to make lunch in the trailer. Here's a pic of us parked in East Bugtumble, Nebraska in the parking lot of the "Pump and Pantry" (loved the pantry, didn't try the pump):

 

So I'm taking a day off tomorrow. I hope to locate and assess the leak in the fresh water system. I was hoping to repair the leak, but after consultation with the Airstream community my expectation of that are extremely slim. We'll try to limp home leaving a trail of water drops like Hansel and Gretel with their breadcrumbs and tackle the tank replacement when time and tools permit. I should be back online on Wednesday.

Later...

SC'

Back to Flyover Country

Evening Campers! It's Silver Cliche' here with you again tonight.. .this time from the Cornhusker State... Nebraska... specifically from Maloney Reservoir State Recreation Area just south of North Platte.

So, we started the day in Rocky Mountain National Park. I owe you a couple of pics that would have been in yesterday's blog except for I decided to save the battery power for our furnace fan rather than your complete amusement. Excuuuuussssseeeee me if you think I chose poorly.

First, a view from the highest point in the park that is currently open... Rainbow Curve on Trail Ridge Road at a little over 10,500 feet:

 That slash across the mountain on the right side of the frame is Trail Ridge Road which we had just climbed. I would note that in many places the road has a very limited shoulder which leads to major dropoffs. It is so obviously dangerous that they have signs that say "Go ahead... text and drive... we dare you" and still you see nobody doing it. In response to Mrs. C's frequent declaration "there are no guardrails here... we're gonna die!" I looked up some history. It turns out that one translation of "Colorado" means "too few guardrails". Somehow people make it up and back and we did too.

I've mentioned the huge number of visitors RMNP gets in the summer. Yesterday afternoon after the movie was no summer rush. It was 4:00 when we headed back to let Romeo out for a walk. There was only one gate open, but there are only three total so the backup should have been nonexistent.  However, we waited about 10 minutes to get through. They have the most amazing view to help pass the time:

So, we got up and hit the road this morning. The last view we had of RNMP was this one in the side view mirror, contrasted with the flat terrain and increasing presence of agriculture as we move across the plains:

After that we were back in "flyover country". If you are not familiar with the term, it's often used by our country's elite (that would be the people who reside on the east and left coasts... if you didn't know that's where the "elite" live, just ask one of them... they'll set you straight) to describe places where the non-elite live. It refers to the fact that the American Neanderthals use a large amount of space and that makes the trip from LA to NY long and inconvenient. It is so long that some elites have even missed complete episodes of Rachael Maddow simply because a Gulfstream V at full speed still takes 30 minutes just to cross one of the stinking flyover states. You don't think the name is apt? Look at this:

 You could play tic-tac-toe using the vapor trails from those flying over. And while we are at it, on the ground in flyover country it feels like the elites are truly flying over. The flyers and the flyees both feel this phenomenon. Maybe I'm the only one, but I think the disdain and contempt embodied in the very phrase "flyover country" might have something to do with why Donald Trump is in the White House and Hillary Clinton is eying a stint on "The View" sitting next to Whoopie.

Anyhow, seeing flyover country up close is enough to have me considering trading the Airstream for a Cessna. This is the gritty, gutty core of America. In addition to signs of agriculture like irrigators, silos and such, there are signs of the energy economy everywhere. Like this:

 Out here, it's natural gas. No sign of the oil pumps tipping back and forth like in Texas. In eastern Colorado its all about gas exploration, drilling, collection and ultimately feeding into the pipeline system. Next stop: Your furnace, stove or clothes dryer!

By far the most "impressive" aspect of  today's drive were the feedlots. These are places where cattle are collected, fed, fattened and housed before being sent on a journey similar to the natural gas. Next stop: Grocery store! We may have seen 100,000 or 200,000 head of cattle today. If you stop and think about it, there is one product that cattle produce before they make roasts, steaks and burgers. That's right... the very same product manufactured in Congress. Lots of it. If you ever wondered where your local nursery gets that "organic fertilizer" that they recommend for new bushes I have your answer! The very first feed lot we came upon caught us by surprise. It was distinguished by three characteristics: 1.) it was the largest we saw all day and stretched for over a mile. 2.) it was very close to the interstate we were on (I-76 running northeast from Denver to the armpit of Nebraska and 3.) it was upwind from our route of travel. I tried to grab my phone from its cradle above the dash to get a picture. Unfortunately I was having a hard time driving and gagging at the same time. The pic had to wait. Here's a pic of a smaller feedlot that was downwind.

 This one only had many thousands of cattle... small potatoes out here.

So, we pressed on. There are several spots in the country where one state or another has a projection that is known as "the panhandle". Texas has one, Oklahoma has one, and Nebraska sort of has one on it's western end. What we don't have is a consistent term for the point where the panhandle meets the body of the state. In the case of Nebraska and Oklahoma, I'd  like to propose calling that point "the armpit". So we were letting I-76 take us to within a few miles of the Nebraska armpit where we would leave Colorado and enter Nebraska. Keeping in mind the fact that Colorado was the first state in the nation to legalize recreational marijuana, you need to recognize that anywhere an interstate highway leaves Colorado there is likely an amount of contraband heading into neighboring states. Places like Raton Pass where we entered the state from New Mexico come to mind. Today's Silver Cliche' Driving Experience comes to you from just after the Colorado/Nebraska border in what I call "smugglers alley":

 Marrakesh and the Brandenburg Gate have nothing on this place.

So finally we completed today's trek and landed just south of North Platte, Nebraska. Interesting place. North Platte is home to the largest rail freight yard in the country. It is also on the route of the Keystone XL pipeline and hosts a smaller pipeline already. Buffalo Bill Cody's home and ranch are here (if you've never studied the history, Buffalo Bill was a character much larger that life and larger than the Ringling Brother's who followed him with a variation on his theme.).

Here's a shot I took from our campsite on the shores of Maloney Reservoir just before the sun went down.

 OK, campers. That's it for tonight.

Later...

SC'