Montana means mountain, which is perplexing when you are driving across endless miles of great plains in this state; that is until you begin to see the shadows of the Rocky Mountains appear on the western horizon. Then, WOW, suddenly you are twisting through the jaw-dropping peaks in Glacier National Park. It is impossible to adequately describe the grandeur. This is a must do. Put it on your bucket list.

I did mention ‘twisting’ through these roads, with their high ridges and curvy cliffs. This corkscrew-style driving is something that is more comfortably done in a Jeep than in a 36-foot RV with tow vehicle. I wanted to creep along at 30 MPH and gawk at the glaciers and the gorges. The drivers behind me had other ideas. It’s a good thing that there are numerous scenic overlook areas on the roadside. I could pull off and let the impatient motorists fly by me, while saying unkind things about me and giving me the one-finger-salute.

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The campsite was wooded and pleasant, but it was small and had no hookups (water, sewer or electricity.) We were ready for the boondocking experience. We had camped without these amenities before, but had never done so in Big Bertha. In the past, our RVs had refrigerators that were run by propane. Not Bertha. Her refrigerator/freezer runs off of the battery, and it did not take long to discover that cooling our food supplies in 100F heat soon depletes the battery. In fact, we could not even start the generator unless we started it from the truck battery. Sadly, I knew that this would make our stay at Glacier shorter than originally anticipated.

We had to make the most of the next day, so we rented a small motor boat and trolled along Lake McDonald, which parallels the Road to the Sun. There is an absolutely arresting allure to this area.

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I did not want to leave this awe-inspiring place, but off we went to the Spokane, Washington area.

Washington, the Evergreen State, surprisingly has miles and miles of stuff that is not green. The Columbia plateau boasts low elevation, plains and basins and is covered with ‘amber waves of grain’. Yet, when you cross the Columbia River, you begin an ascent into the Cascades that is astonishing. The views simply take your breath away.

We pulled into Riverside State Park for two nights and were sorry that we could not extend the stay. The campsite was situated right on the Spokane tributary of the Columbia River. It was spacious and our camping neighbors were outgoing, fun and friendly.

The hiking around the ‘Bowl and Pitcher’ rock formations was fantastic. The trails were well marked and only slightly challenging.

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I hated to leave Riverside but had something of enormous importance on my agenda. My parents were foster parents when I was a youngster. I had a teenaged foster sister that I idolized. I saw her as worldly and glamorous and ever-so-grown-up. She was so kind to us and treated us like sweet, little sisters instead of the little brats that we most assuredly were. I had not seen her for 40(+) years, but Black Diamond Washington was on our way to our next stop, South of Olympia. So, we took a little side trip, down memory lane and I am SO GLAD that we did.

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Mary was just as I remembered her, kind and generous and loving. She even tolerated Gypsy, who was behaving in an intolerable fashion, jumping on everyone and begging for food, and eating charcoal….

We were joined by Mary’s sister, husband, and brother-in-law. The company was delightful. The food was scrumptious, and the wine selection was top notch. The only complaint is that there was not enough time. We did not even scratch the surface as far as being able to catch up. So many years have gone by, and there are so many stories that we still need to share. Gypsy’s antics were a detriment. Thank God these wonderful people are true dog lovers. I will find a way to spend more time with them in the future.

“I blinked my eyes
and in an instant,
decades had passed.”
― John Mark Green, Taste the Wild Wonder: Poems

We proceeded on to Twin Harbors State Park following our nostalgic lunch stop. Initially, we were unimpressed because the site was quite small. Yet, after exploring the park, we came to love it. Twin Harbors has miles of unpopulated, Pacific shore line. Gypsy ran, leash-free, in pursuit of gulls. She tumbled through waves and swam through tidal pools. She was in heaven.

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We also stumbled upon the Westport Winery while at Twin Harbors. We went in search of lunch and found a bistro-winery-distillery-art gallery-topiary garden-mermaid museum with a miniature golf course. We spent hours at this place, walking through the gardens and admiring the landscaping and three-dimensional artwork.

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We have reached the halfway point in our journey, and, unbelievably, it is time to do a U-turn and head back East.

Next stop: Wildhorse Casino & RV Park in Pendleton, OR

Stay tuned.

Canadian singer/songwriter, Tom Cochrane penned these lyrics:

“Life is like a road that you travel on
When there’s one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind…”

He’s right. Sometimes you wind up in State or National Parks that are resplendent in scenic marvels, and sometimes, when plans don’t fall together, you wind up in roadside rest areas that claim to be campgrounds. If you have a sense of humor, you can actually enjoy these stops. Okay, maybe enjoy is a stretch. Perhaps it is better said that you can find them amusing.

I’m not sure whether the charm was due to the cramped quarters, the ramshackle buildings, the weedy pool with piles of dog poo around it, or the 1960’s signage but I did find this quirky, little campsite to be strangely engaging. We had full hook ups, including 50-amp service, and the owner was just as friendly and helpful as a person could be.

Obviously, this was not going to be an optimal place for hiking or biking. We had an afternoon to kill, so I consulted Google about places of interest near Glasgow, Montana and the only thing that came up was the Scraped Knuckle Brewery. So, we went. We bought a pint and a tee shirt!

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Trails West wound up being an acceptable one-night-stand, but it was time to head to Shelby, MT.

This stop did not have the shabby-chic vibe of the last destination. BUT, the Shelby RV park also included a hotel and casino. Again, no hiking or biking opportunities, but we could use the hotel amenities. So, we used the fitness room and in foolhardy fashion, frittered away ten dollars in the casino.

Still, finding ourselves with too much time on our hands, we ventured onto Main Street and found an antique car show lining a blocked-off section of the downtown area.

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Before settling in for the evening, I took a stroll up a nearby hill that overlooked the RV park, with my faithful companion, Gypsy. I think it would be fair to say that I am more than eager to get to our next stop: Glacier National Park. I intend to do LOTS of hiking. The next set of photos should be a little grander….

Stay tuned…

The drive from The Apostle Islands to Leech Lake Minnesota was fairly traffic free, other than for a short time, when we entered the Superior, WI / Duluth, MN area.

I digress. Back to the lakes: I had high hopes of seeing thousands of lakes as we cruised the countryside into Northern Minnesota. License plates boast that this northern state is the ‘Land of 10, 000 Lakes’. I, perhaps, saw 10 lakes, and those were mostly obscured by pine trees. That is not to say that the lakes aren’t there, it’s just that the 10-thousand lakes are hidden behind 10-million trees. The trees, however, are lush, healthy and abundant. Even our Leech Lake Campground was not really a lake, it was merely a wetlands that, eventually, opened up into a lake, but it was not visible from the camping area.

The wetlands in this region are home to wild rice and cranberry bogs. There is an amazingly tasty wild rice and cranberry bread that can be found in the local bakeries.

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Onward to North Dakota, where we would be camped along the wide, Missouri. The land boasts vast acreages of grasslands with an occasional hill or butte along the river to spice up the topography. This is truly America’s breadbasket, with far-reaching farms and colossal cattle ranches.

This is the land through which Lewis and Clark ventured to explore the west following the Louisiana Purchase. We decided to get a history lesson at Fort Mandan, near Washburn, ND. Although I was a fairly decent student of American history, I confess that there was a whole lot I did not know about the Corps of Discovery Expedition. Did you know that Merriweather Lewis brought his Newfoundland pup, named Seaman, along to be a member of the crew?

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When I hear the word Apostle, I cannot help singing Andrew Lloyd Weber’s lyrics from Jesus Christ Superstar, “What’s the buzz, tell me what’s happening?”

The buzz at the Apostle Islands is that the fly in the ointment is back.

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Arrival day was actually seamless! The drive from Baraboo to Bayfield Wisconsin was strangely pleasurable. There was minimal traffic and the highways were well maintained. No white-knuckles. Yay!

I managed to get some laundry done before heading into Bayfield. We managed a quick walk around town, but because we had Gypsy in tow, we were limited as to what we could do. We headed back to the campground and discovered that, right across the street, there was a brewery that featured live music. Because we believe in supporting local businesses, particularly pet friendly establishments, we stopped to have a beer and listen to some tunes. We are just filled with noble intentions like that…

DAY 2:

An insect, probably a spider, bit my ear. I have one ear that is twice the size of the other. It’s bright red and it itches like hell.

We have a vacuum flush toilet system in the RV. When you step on the peddle, the vacuum creates a huge WHOOSH, and voila, the bowl is emptied. I stepped on the peddle. No whoosh. No nothing. You can survive in an RV with minor mechanical issues. A non-flushing toilet is not one of them. We sought out the help of the youtube Gods, to no avail. We searched for mobile RV repair. We called the Service Department at our RV dealer. We were fairly certain that we were doomed. The RV manufacturer sent us a link to the toilet manufacturer’s product guide. I read the troubleshooting chapter and discovered that there is a fuse that governs the vacuum flush. Naturally, we did not have any extra 15 amp fuses, but we “borrowed” one from the tilting bed, and miraculously, after lots of angst, our latrine issues were solved.

So, my husband, my dog, and I (with the extra-large right ear) headed out in search of adventure and 15-amp fuses.

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We found an absolutely amazing hike at Meyers Beach. I wish we could have ventured a bit further than we did, but we noticed that Gypsy’s leash was frayed and completely inadequate for a puppy who was more than willing to fling herself off the side of a cliff. To say that she was making us nervous is a bit of an understatement. We dragged her back to the trailhead safely and decided to find a dog-friendly lunch spot.

We found, in Cornucopia, WI, The Fat Radish, a Fido-Friendly, lunch spot with a live band and Lake Trout Tacos. It was a good place to decompress after spending the morning with a suicidal Labrador.

The evening was spent on a tour boat which cruised the Apostle Islands and gave us an overview of the geography and the history of the area. I am astonished by the resiliency of the people that can weather these cold climes. Fishing, quarrying brownstone and cutting lumber were profitable, and thus, brave souls settled here.

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Day three was an absolutely wonderful diversion from the tourist traps. My dear friend and former coworker, Amy, and her husband Jim, purchased an acreage in nearby Port Wing, WI. They invited us to their unconventional homestead, and we immediately fell in love. The outbuildings were converted into a home that is a veritable, visionary arts museum. The outdoor space boasted multiple seating areas. The property had a magical, Zen-like quality that made it difficult to leave. I am so deeply grateful to have spent time with true, kindred spirits and to have had the opportunity to see firsthand, the fruits of their labor.

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Day 4 included a ferry ride and a lunch stop at the Inn At Madeline Island. Not at all a bad way to wind down an incredible four-day stop on the journey.

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Tomorrow, off to the Land of 10,000 Lakes, ya’ betcha, don’tcha know???

Stay tuned…..

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A three night stay gives you time to decompress, to explore the surrounding area, and to avoid highway hell. It would seem that Devil’s Lake would be an odd choice for escaping Hades, but I assure you, it is not. This State Park, near Baraboo, Wisconsin is expansive, picturesque, unblemished, peaceful, AND it has ice cream!

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After a day of being “Griswold” vacationers, and visiting the top tourist attractions, we needed to get back on our feet. It was time to explore the bluffs and to hike around the lake. If you have been following along, you know that I am still nursing a badly sprained ankle back to health. This was going to be a true test, as the trail included lots of rock and several elevation changes. I tightly laced up my hiking boots, grabbed my hiking poles and moved onward. It was slow going, as I was uber-aware of every footfall. I did take one, minor tumble when my boot became wedged under a crag. I sat for a moment, realized that there was no snap, crackle or pop of the already strained ligament, and thankfully, stood up without pain. I passed the test. I did not get an A+ but I was happy to get a passing grade.

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The topography of this gorgeous place is a gift of the ice age. Glaciers moved across this area, building mountains, carving valleys, and creating lakes.

Imagine. A stop without that pesky fly in the ointment…

He’s bound to reappear. Stay tuned…

My favorite part of each leg of the journey is the part when you pull into the next site. Most of the actual highway experience has no real appeal to me. Yes, there are some well maintained, wide-enough roads that wind through a panoramic paradise, but this is not the norm. More often, you find yourself on overcrowded highways, in work zones or on narrow, twisting country roads with no shoulder.

There were orange barrels lining the highway for as far as the eye could see (and considerably further). We were shifting from left lane to right lane while squeezing between concrete jersey barriers. I hold my breath when I am wedged between walls. I had a distinctly blue pallor for many, many miles. Here is my insider stock tip for the day: Invest in a company that makes traffic cones. If Biden sells his infrastructure package, you will get rich quickly. Already, I am marveling at the number of cones that I nearly knocked over while doing the ‘Lane-Change-Lindy-Hop’ through the great state of Indiana.

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Potato Creek is a large, beautiful park. It has an expansive swimming beach, a tree-lined bike trail and numerous hiking trails. We attempted a hike upon our arrival but soon discovered that we needed to reroute due to trail blockages. There had been tornadic activity in the area 24 hours prior to our appearance. Large branches and trees were down everywhere. The park rangers told us to expect chain saw noise the following day but we were up and out of there before the buzzing began.

So, back on the road again. This time from South Bend, Indiana to Baraboo, Wisconsin. This particular leg of the journey included driving near Gary, Indiana and Chicago, Illinois. There are a lot of people in this area which translates into, a lot of cars and a lot of eighteen-wheelers flying down the four-lane highways, many of which are also under construction. (Buy stock in orange barrels.) Truckers own the road, and I frequently found myself, going 70-miles-per-hour with a truck on the left and a truck on the right. This creates a bit of a wind tunnel that rocks the RV and jostles the nerves. Already my knuckles were white from the death grip on the steering wheel when it became obvious that a gas stop was unavoidable.

We left the highway and entered a Mobile Station that did not have diesel fuel. The parking lot was not huge but we could carefully maneuver our way out of it, IF we entered the adjoining parking lot that clearly posted NO TRUCKS ALLOWED. So, we drove our rig into an area in which it was prohibited. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do, even if you are (only slightly ?) breaking the law. We had to reenter the highway and find another gas station, which we did, but not before having to circle through the parking lot of a private business to find the entrance. At this point, having made it to the pump, you would think that we would be relieved. Not so. If I was going to exit the gas island without side-swiping the pumps with the tow vehicle, I was going to need a wide turning berth. This was not possible because a bus was parked in a spot that was posted NO PARKING. There were no occupants and I began to panic. My husband was irritated and telling me to pull forward so that he could fill the tank. In the meantime, two burly guys in uniforms, with holstered guns, were walking towards the bus. I was afraid to move. I sensed that perhaps they were prison guards, and the bus was for inmate transport. They got in the bus and were intending to drive away, so I was waiting for them to make their move. My husband continued to be annoyed, telling me to “move forward”. I opted to stay still. My husband was angered, but those other guys had guns. I waited until they left. It was a lose-lose situation. <sigh>

I love scenic, spacious state park campsites. East Harbor State Park near Marblehead, Ohio, does NOT offer the site privacy that I have come to love. The sites are far from commodious and seclusion is out of the question. In fact, the crowded sites create the ‘good-ole-boy’ ambiance of a pick-up-truck, parking parade. We are packed in like sardines, as the saying goes.

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However, most campers are aware that beach destination campgrounds tend to be overcrowded, so this did not come as a huge surprise. Unwelcome, but not unexpected. The park, itself is quite large. It is clean and the trails are well marked. It is situated right on Lake Erie and boasts a nice swimming beach.

The surrounding area offers a major amusement park (Cedar Point), multiple water parks, ferry rides to various islands, fishing expeditions, a safari wildlife park, boating, wineries and breweries. We opted to take a ferry to Put-In-Bay.

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My dear friend Lynn has remarked that we always seem to encounter that “fly in the ointment” during our adventures and she is, once again, correct. We got to the island, and for the sake of expedience, rented a golf cart. Gypsy does not always walk well on a leash. It diminishes the pleasure of the journey if you have to drag her for miles. We managed to drive through a portion of the town before it started to drizzle. Our golf cart had a roof, so we were only a little bit wet. We made it to the Commodore Perry Memorial, which commemorates his victory on Lake Erie during the war of 1812. Then, the skies opened up, pouring pails of cold water. Next came the thunder and the lightning and the wind. Now we were a LOT wet and had to seek cover.

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If you’re going to be dripping wet and chilled to the bone, you might as well do it with a Margarita in your hand. This delightful spot, with a covered porch, let us take shelter. They welcomed our four-legged friend and our server (Jasmine) even gave me her jacket when she noticed my goosebumps and blue lips. We had to order a drink. It was the right thing to do. We’re conscientious like that.

When there was a break in the clouds we headed back to the RV to plan our next junket.

We started the next day with a morning trip to the dog beach. We needed to wear Gypsy out so that we could put her in her kennel for a few hours. We wanted to do some biking on the North Coast Inland Trail and our puppy still needs training wheels. She would have to forego this excursion. The dog beach was the ideal spot to tire her out. She ran into the lake, chased sticks on the sandy beach, and frolicked in the marsh grass. Other than the fact that she has an affinity for disgusting, dead fish parts it would have been a perfect morning. There is nothing quite like grappling with a dog for slimy, scaly, smelly carcasses.

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We did manage a 25-mile bike ride that wound through pristine, private farm land. The path was asphalt and the grade remained fairly flat throughout. We did have to battle some strong wind gusts that pushed across the wide, open fields. The trail was lined with blackberry trees. Did you know that groundhogs like blackberries? They kept sneaking out to gobble them off the trail but would scamper as the bikes approached.

I wish I had a bit more time to explore Kelly’s Island, or perhaps go to Cedar Point, but the road trip continues .

Indiana wants me…. Stay tuned.

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I’ve always wanted to do this. I have always wanted to jump in a vehicle and drive across the USA. Now the time has come. I am excited but confess to being a bit apprehensive about the length of the trip. Six weeks is a long time. I feel like a kid, grasping for my security blanket, but knowing I have to leave it behind if I am going to venture out into the world.

I have been working since I was 15-years-old. I have not had this amount of time off since having summer vacations from school. I am not sure how to exercise the freedom that comes with retirement. I guess I am going to learn quickly. I suspect I will learn to love it.

We began our adventure in the rain. We had blinding downpours as we headed west through Maryland. The rain was pounding, making lots of racket but above that din we heard another loud rattle. I thought perhaps a cabinet had come open, and was slamming open and shut. It was not quite that simple.

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We have this really great feature in the bunk above the cab. There is an awesome retractable window that allows you to gaze at the stars while you drift off to sleep. At least it is awesome when it is on the track, and not working its way loose. The retractable cover was dangling off the track, right above the driver’s seat. It was bouncing, bumping and barely hanging onto the track, threatening to decapitate me. My poor husband had to crawl up there and jam the thing back in. It was not perfect but it stayed in place until we could properly address it at our destination.

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In spite of the rain and the malfunctioning window we made it to The Outflow Recreation Area in Confluence, PA. It is an Army Corp of Engineers campground that is located on The Great Allegheny Passage bike trail, which meanders along the Youghiogheny River and into Ohiopyle State Park. It is a must do for bike enthusiasts.

I was blessed with a visit from my sister. We walked the trail, lounged on boulders in the river, talked about old times and about what the future might bring. It was a great way to launch the voyage, and made me miss my “blankie” a little less.

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It was in beautiful Lum’s Pond State Park (DE) that we made a few discoveries. First, if you wrap a sprained ankle tightly, and securely lace up your hiking boots, you can actually hobble several miles without pain; slight discomfort, but no pain. We also discovered that a 3-1/2 month old Lab has more stored energy than uranium or plutonium. We were worried about a long hike being “too much” for our pup. It turns to have been an unfounded concern. Gypsy has an endless ‘get-up-and-go’ capacity. Finally, we learned that our pup’s webbed feet are in stellar working order. She can swim with the big dogs! She found herself in-over-her-head. She thrashed around, wildly waving her front paws until she settled into a paddling motion.

If you are a dog-lover, I highly recommend checking out the Dog Park at Lum’s Pond. There are long, leash-free trails, fields and beaches for the pooches to explore. I am a huge fan because I have learned that a tired puppy is a good puppy.

After placing a very tired dog into her kennel, we ventured out to explore the C & D Canal Recreational Trail. The bike trail is paved and the scenery is unbeatable. The ride is basically flat, with very few gear changes needed. You can travel between Chesapeake City, MD and Delaware City, DE. Both are charming, waterfront towns that are worth a visit.

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Those of you who follow, or on occasion, read this blog are wondering why things are going so smoothly. Our adventures are typically tales of ill fortune. Once again, you will not be let down.

Finally, an opportunity for a weekend escape! We headed to beautiful Cooper’s Rock State Park in West Virginia for a weekend of fun and frivolity with family. With Covid vaccinations completed, we rolled, unmasked, towards our next great adventure. We had big plans for turning our 3-month-old Labrador into a trail guide, which we knew would be a tad challenging since, simply taking her for a walk, entails dragging her around the neighborhood. We got Gypsy settled into her soft-sided crate for a ramble down the road. (This actually worked quite well for making her feel safe, while containing her movement.) At this juncture we were carefree, cock-eyed optimists.

Our exuberance began to fade when we approached our campsite. The one-way streets within the camping loop made it impossible to approach our site at an angle that would allow us to back in. After circling around and narrowly missing a ravine, we were able to get situated well enough that we could begin to back in. As we engaged reverse, we could feel the tow bar spear the hill behind us. It was as if our motorhome was harpooning a whale. We had to disassemble the towing mechanism in order to back in to the site. Let me rephrase that. My husband had to detach the whole mess because I had to hold on to a puppy who was having intermittent bursts of insane energy while trying to eat gravel, twigs, pinecones, weeds and insects.

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It was 90 degrees outside and the pollen count was out of control. My poor husband sneezed, wheezed, coughed and continually rubbed his red eyes. He went inside to escape the heat only to discover that the brand new, under original warranty, air conditioner did not work. He continued to grapple with his allergies, and Gypsy continued to chomp on charred wood and gobble up gravel.

Almost Heaven, West Virginia.

I was determined to find the best hiking trails before my sister and my daughter arrived. We were going to spend the day in the great outdoors, getting some exercise and and enjoying the elevation changes, the vistas, and all of nature’s beauty. I laced up my trail running shoes, and a mile into my run I stepped on a rock and rolled my ankle. I knew when I heard the CRACK that the end result would not be good. I limped, gingerly, back to the RV, and immediately drove to an urgent care center.

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On the positive side, we now have a new AC unit and (for the time being) the warranty work on Big Bertha is complete. The injury is merely an impediment. It may temporarily slow me down, but I will not be stopped. Too many roads to travel.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost