In the beginning...

Don't let anyone fool you...retirement is all it's cracked up to be. At least that what we think so far. With great going-away parties from our children and our extended families from our home town and my college days, we're off on a six month journey that should take us through some fifteen states. Our trusty (we hope) motor home is ready for the road and should keep us safe.
Sharon and I will share the duties of writing and photographing for this blog and hope you enjoy our efforts. I also have to admit that I stole the title of this blog from a former co-worker (who probably got it from somewhere else) but it fits and I'm grateful...thanks Tim.

We began our trip with a stop in Holland for some minor service on the coaches heating system. With just a step or two ahead of possible snow flurries and much colder weather, we decided to make sure we had enough heat on board in case the weather turned sour faster than we could drive south. We scheduled our first stop on the south side of Indianapolis. Why there? Well I really don't know other than it's a neat city and it's about 250 miles from my last stop. Being that we're in no hurry, our plan is to start each day around 9am and finish around 3pm so that should give us enough time to travel the allotted distance.

Our slow pace did allow us to stop at the Grissom Air Museum somewhere north of Indianapolis.
Certainly not the caliber of the Dayton Air Museum but interesting anyway. I even got Sharon into the drivers seat of a F4 Phantom. They had a B-17, B-58, C-47, F-14 and several others piston engine craft.

After finding our camp in Indianapolis and setting up, we enjoyed a very nice Italian dinner at a little family owned restaurant south of town celebrating my 62nd birthday. The next morning we unhooked the tow car and headed to the city only to run into bumper-to-bumper traffic. It seems that the Colts were playing a big home game (they lost) and tied up most of the downtown area. As we tend to roam around with no particular destination, I soon recognized familiar territory not long after heading west from the city. The Indianapolis Speedway sign appeared and I decided to show Sharon the track. We found our way inside the track at the museum and booked a ride around the track on a short bus. Not exactly the racing steed I'd like but the only thing they'll let you out there in. Though we were rolling along at a brisk 15 mph pace our pulses quickened as we picked up a 30 mph tail wind coming out of turn 4. A thrill to be there anyway. The thought of doing 230+ on the straights and going into the turns at nearly 200 seems impossible.

Our next stop was Springfield Illinois. We booked a couple of nights at Mr. Lincoln's RV park located near the downtown area. I wanted to visit the Springfield area to do some research on my father's family. His folks were married and he was born in a small town (Divernon) just south of Springfield. Little information was available but the trip to Divernon and spending time with some of the town's older citizens was interesting and entertaining. While in Springfield we also finally figured out who was buried in Lincoln's tomb.

While driving through the countryside of both central Indiana and southern Illinois it struck me as to the vast amount of farm land in use. Mile after mile of neatly tilled soil waiting for winter snows. Some might say boring but to me but it imparts a sense of security and tradition. I do however miss the Burma Shave signs.

As we struggled through the hideous traffic in East St. Louis we manged to lose one the new hubcaps while crossing the Mississippi river. Roads as bad as in Michigan.

We arrived at our KOA camp in Lebanon Missouri. Like the last stop, the camp was quite empty with only 3 others staying. The camp was right next to I44 so it will be easy to get going Friday morning for the Branson. Today was another nostalgia trip for me as we spent a couple hours at my old Army base Ft. Leonardwood (see photos on a later entry). Went to the museum and toured some of the old barracks that were preserved. I even took a ride to the camp golf course to see if that wicked 600 yard par 5 was still in place. It was and looked just as intimidating. 41 years had not changed much other than the trees had grown, almost every building on post had been torn down and the place looked like a small modern city.
From there we headed for another old haunt, Lake of the Ozarks. About a hour north of the Fort it was a remote, sparsely populated tourist town with about 20 stores and bars. The big attraction for us Army guys was the three decker boats that went out on the lake on the weekends complete with live bands and lots of beer and girls. The boat were still there, and maybe even the girls... but they place had grown to a scale like Traverse City only larger. If I had only the mind to buy land there 41 years ago.

We only have a short 2 hour drive to Branson Friday so we should have a restful, lay-back sorta of day.