Old haunts and high water

Headed over to Pensacola today to visit a photo equipment dealer there.  Great guys and very knowledgable.  One a retired Army photographer so we had a little in common.   Sharon and I continue to explore our surroundings and since Pensacola is only about 30 miles away,  we thought we'd return after a two year hiatus.  After jawboning in the camera shop for an hour we decided to have lunch at a spot we really liked the last time we were in this old military town.  McQuire's Irish Pub http://www.mcguiresirishpub.com/
has been a staple here since the late 70's specializing in prime steak.  We were just there for a sandwich and salad but the thought of a bone-in ribeye was pretty tempting.  Few steak houses only serve prime grade meat so believe me, this is one of those 'must eat at' places.

We were introduced to this place on our last visit by our friends from Grand Blanc (Linda and John) who winter near here.  If you look back in my blog's older posts (2-18-2008) you'll see some pictures and a little detail on what's plastered all over their ceiling.  Anyway a great lunch with each of us bringing home enough extra for another meal.  By-the-way ... the corn beef and pistrami on rye was to die for.

Now all you folks back in Michigan are probably anticipating a little inclement weather soon ... and just to make you feel better ... so are we.   Apparently the last several days of 75 degree blue sky weather is changing to 'head for the high ground' weather.  Sometime late afternoon tomorrow, we're looking at a weather front moving through that will dump between 4 and 6 INCHES of rain here.  I guess we'll see how waterproof the coach is.  We'll probably have to tie down the barbecue or it may head out to sea.  Anyway we'll keep a close ear to the weatherman and keep our swim fins handy.  However I will need to dash out in the morning for some fresh limes and tonic.  Survivial provisions you know.

Still livin' the dream (no matter how soggy)

Phil

Bella Terra Rv Resort

Just in case you wanted to know what the place we are staying at looks like ...

here it is at sunset this evening.

Maybe a few more images later as the mood strikes me.

Livin' the dream

Phil

Indians, Cotton and Shrimp

I think I now know something about the Native American Indians I didn't fully understand before.  It seems that for years I thought their ways of communicating with smoke signals was pretty crude but ...  I was so wrong.   I found out the hard way that the tribes in Michigan, where we normally gamble, managed to get word to the ones down here (Wind Creek Casino in Atmore AL) that we are indeed fools so take every advantage of them that you can.  This relatively new casino was nice but not many were playing this afternoon.  Maybe spending on Black Friday items ... which was probably better anyway.  We only stayed about two hours and I lost what I had planned to but Sharon did win a little.  For the hours drive, for me was not worth the trip, but Sharon enjoyed it.

Leaving the casino I noticed a field of fluffy white puffs of something swaying in the breeze across the road.  A closer look was called for so I pulled off the road to take a closer look.  My first live cotton bushes/plants.  I'd seen pictures before but in all my travels had never seen them up close.  Up close they weren't quite so fluffy as I had expected but so very white and lots of them.  I cannot imagine ever picking these by hand but they did and I cannot think of a more back breaking job.  They're low to the ground requiring the picker to be bent over all day long.  A real pain.

 Moving on ...

So what to choose?  Will it be the Zydecco Penne (Crawfish Tails, Andouille Sausage,Jumbo Gulf Shrimp, Cajun Vegetables, and Roasted Garlic in a cream sauce), or a Seafood Platter (Butterflied Shirmp, Deep Sea Scallops, Extra Select Oysters,Filet of Flounder, and Crab Cakes) or All you can eat shrimp,flounder,tilapia,clams, or chicken and maybe top it off with French bread baked in a sweet cinnamon vanilla raisin custard topped with a Whiskey sauce? 

We found Captain's Galley on County Road 10 west of Foley.  Not anywhere near the main drag but tucked away on on Bon Secur River sort of on the outskirts of town.  We pulled in lot and parked in front of their shrimp boat.  Not fancy by any means but more like a mom and pop operation in your home town.  The Auburn/Alabama game was in the final minutes and most of the patrons were glued to the several screens up around the dinning room as we  made our way to a seat.  We ordered a couple of beers and some onion rings and both decided after reviewing the large menu on the all-you-could-eat shrimp. Our rationale was that we skipped lunch so why not pile on dinner.

In short order our meal was served.  A very light batter covered about 16 shrimp.  How can I describe fresh?  Okay ... how about NOT like most of the shrimp you get up north. Delicately flavored with a batter that was just barely there.  Right out of the frier to our plates in seconds.  Figuring that Sharon couldn't eat all of hers I held off wolfing all mine down; avoiding any redicule later on if I had ordered more.  Whoops ... fooled again.  She put her batch down like a baby Robin with a beak full of worms. So the waitress winked and I winked back and before long another hot batch appeared.  Slathered up will a little cocktail sauce they too soon disappeared but there was absolutely no room for the whiskey drizzled French Bread pudding.  Pretty fine dining for less than $30 and jeans and sweat pants are appropriate.

So Captain's Gallery is officially the first resturant, at least on this trip, that we can finally recommend to others. We're sure there will be more.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

A day of Thanksgiving

Sharon and I have many things in this life to be thankful for.  But our greatest assets are our wonderful family and our fantastic friends, both old and new.  Without them we would have little.  So on this Thanksgiving day we thank all of you  for your love, friendship, and support as we continue to live our dream.

Phil and Sharon 

Nuts !

Today was another wander-around day.  'Oh the joys of retirement' they say.  We sorta of wanted to visit a mall near Mobile so we head west towards the little town of Fairhope AL.  Seeing the back yard of America suits us just fine.  Anyway after snooping around Fairhope, which is filled with many neat shops, we headed north along the coast of Mobile Bay.  Not long along this new direction, we stumbled across the B&B Pecan Company.  Now if you have never been to a nut farm (excluding medical ones), make a point to stop in and see what's going on.

Immaculate rows of mature pecan trees dot the surrounding land.  The lawn underneath these large sprawling trees are trimmed close and as clean as my bank account after Christmas.  It appears, by the look of the trees, the season was near its end as there was little of anything left in them.  As the ripe nut falls to the ground, mechanical sweepers harvest the nuts and move them along for further processing.  Cracking, cleaning, sorting and packaging follow.

We found the retail office and walked into pecan nirvana.  Raw pecans, salted pecans, pecan pies, pecan oil, pecan cookbooks, chocolate covered pecans, pecans in the shell, pecan crackers, pecans in tins, pecans in bags, pick your own pecans ... and, as it turns out ... over 40 varieties of pecans.  OMG ... we were in nut overload.

From an adjoining room I could hear some machinery running so I asked the counter guys if I could see what was going on and maybe take some pictures.  He agreed and led me into the special processing room.  Lined up along one wall were four nut cracking machines.  Note this is not a state-of-the-art processing area.  It's pretty crude and very labor intensive.  Apparently they use this just for small special batches so the equipment is old and not designed for high volume.  A young man working in the room takes a large bag of recently harvested nuts and dumps them into a hopper atop the cracking machine.  As each individual nut passes around a rotating do-dad (my best description), a little ram smashed the nut hull with just enough force to just crack the shell .. but not damage the nut meat.  These cracked nuts are then tossed into a large sifter where he finishes opening each nuts manually and sorts out any bad ones.   Now here's a job that would literally drive me nuts.

I returned to the retail office and continued my 'nutty' discussion with the counter guy.  I interrogated him about the pecan nut business as if he was just featured on America's Most Wanted tv show.  How many pounds do you get off a tree each season? (1000lbs), what percent are good? (80), why are there so many varities? (different uses [eating, cooking, oil] and some are grown resist certain diseases) and on and on.

Great folks there at B & B Pecan Company.  So stop in and pay them a visit ... you'll go nuts.
You can visit (and order) online too!  http://www.pecangifts.com/  Christmas orders being taken now.

As I write this, I broke into our 1lb bag of fresh, unsalted pecans.  I could bore you with my musings of our trip to the shopping malls we visited later in the day but it's hard to type with one hand in the bag.

Still livin' this 'nutty dream.

Phil

Not bad

I just got around to figuring my fuel mileage for the 1100+ mile trip down here.  For those who don't own a motor home, this number may sound outrageous.  But considering the weight of this diesel driven, 40ft behemouth and the 5100lb TrailBlazer I tow behind it, 9.01mpg is pretty darn good.  Usually driving between 60mph and 65mph, I think we're doing a lot better than most big coaches.  Our average cost of overnight parking was around $23/night. So all things considered, not all that expensive for travelling in style .  Besides ... we don't have to sleep in beds that a thousand others have slept in, stand in the airports for hours, and we have our very own bathroom.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

Eatin' out

It's gotta start sometime so here's our first resturant review at our new winter home.

We'd seen this place advertised on the roads into the area on our last trip in 2008, but never got around to stopping.  Lambert's Cafe is famous for their 'home cookin' and brag about their practice of tossing hot rolls around the eatery.  That in itself seemed to make it worthy of a visit so we decided to stop in for lunch.

Lots of folksy signs and pictures adorned the walls.  Interesting things to look at, to say the least.  We were led to a table and within a minute or so somebody came around with a large tray of hot bread rolls followed by a server with a tray with sorghum, molassis, and apple butter.  "Take whatever you want" he said.

Next came a girl with a large tub of deep fried okra.  I've never been a fan of this stuff but after trying it, it wasn't bad.  Now keep in mind we had not even hardly had time to look at the menu, let alone order and already we had two courses.  This is part of Lambert's Cafe's 'hook' as it turns out.  The servers continously circulate through the resturant passing out 5 or 6 different 'sides'.  Take em' or leave them ... just keep in mind they are blended into the cost of your meal.  Speaking of costs ... the menu did not have a lunch menu but only one for dinner and one for kids.  Most entrees were $11.99 and up.  Not necessary a place for an inexpensive lunch.

We each ordered the fried chicken.  In about 15 minutes it arrived, hot and lots of it.  Now there is not much you can do with fried chicken and theirs was not anything above the norm.  It was flavored well and tasty but maybe a little too greasy.  Occasionally a hot roll would go sailing around the room as some customer would request another and the server would toss it across the to them.  He kept throwing them until the patron caught one.  Needless to say there were a few on the floor.  Good thing they didn't serve their coffee that way.  I guess if I had one major complaint it was serving coffee in plastic mugs.  Good coffee ... but plastic mugs?  I had also asked the waitress if I ordered fries could I get them well-done.  Her reply was sort of 'you'll get them the way we make them'.  So don't plan on asking for anything special.

I'd say it's a place to at least say you've been there once.  As with all resturant reviews, it's subjective.  Apparently this is a well liked place in the area as they've been able to withstand the ecominic turn down and all the patrons we dined with seem to be having a good time of it. So give it a try ... see what you think.

Livin' the dream,

Phil

Arrived ... at last

We arrived at our destination ... Bella Terra RV Resort, Foley Alabama. Safe and sound. What a beautiful place. Our site is right on the water with a large fountain not far away. Everything is well manicured and maintained. There are quite a few rigs aready here so we will surely meet a lot of new people. Pictures will be added in upcoming blogs.

Really livin' the dream now.

Phil

Final leg

Moving along the I-65 corridor we had about 450 miles to cover before making our destination of Gulf Shores Alabama. Since my tolerance for driving this beast is around 250 miles a day, we needed to find a place spend the night somewhere between here and there. We hit the internet and found a park near Cornersville Tennessee. Strangely called Texas T Campground, it was a perfect stop- over. Pull-thru, FHU, WiFi, cable TV, clean well kept and only about $20/night. So pass the word ... if you need an easily accessed park just off I-65 in Tennessee, this is the place.

Kentucky, Tennessee and northern Alabama offer up some beautiful scenery. Rolling hills covered with pine and hardwoods as far as the eye could see. Highways carved through limestone deposits added extra visual interest. The only problem I had with driving through this environmental eye candy was Nashville. A great city in its own right but as I-65 winds its way through the town it magnifies the ugliness of driving through big cities. Five lanes, and very poorly kept lanes as well, in both directions with everyone in some sort of a helter-skelter mood. I know I'm beginning to sound like an old fart but with over 35 tons of coach and truck underway and stretching out some 60 feet, I really dislike big city driving. Sweaty palms and white knuckles kept us between the white lane markers but those whizzing by me on both sides tests my normally good nature.

Anyway ... we moved along the interstate to Montgomery AL. We found a park, again within a 1/4 mile of the highway so it worked fine for us. The Woods RV Park and Campground appears to be rather new and all sites have FHU, cable, WiFi, and all are pull thru. We unhooked the truck and after getting settled in, headed out for a bite to eat. We had a couple of recommendations from the camp host but those didn't pan out too well as it was Sunday evening and both were closed. We settled for a little fast food chicken and called it an evening. After dinner I cranked up the internet and discovered that there were three casinos here in Montgomery. Mean as I am, I mentioned this to Sharon and in the same breath said is was too late to go anywhere. Guess who's in the dog house now.

So on this Monday morning, we've had a nice breakfast and I need to hook up the truck and finish the final leg of our trip to Gulf Shores. The sun is shining, it's expected to be about 75 degrees today and believe me ... we're still livin' the dream.

Phil

The End of the Rainbow

This little piece is dedicated to Corky, Don, Alex, Ron, Charlie, and Mike.


For I’m taking that trip to Mecca … like swallows to Capistrano and like lemmings to the sea … I have arrived at the site of all that is good and wonderful. That place where testosterone rules, your voice automatically drops an octave, and your knees weaken at mere sight of a building full of these sensuous beauties of the blacktop.
The place … the National Corvette Museum in Bowling Green Kentucky.



This unique building is located adjacent to I 65 in southwestern Kentucky with easy parking, even for my rig and tow car. The impressive walkway is paved with personalized bricks and plaques from Corvette clubs and Corvette lovers from all over the nation. Walking inside, we were greeted by a very pleasant young women who had a pleasant surprise for us. As a veteran we were granted free admission. Normally seniors will get tapped $6.00 each while lesser aged folks will be hit for $8.00. A small price.

The tour is self-directed so you can gawk at your own pace. Our first stop was the theater where a continuously running history of the Vette’ was playing. This was almost worth the price of admission in itself.

From there the cars were displayed in chronological order with grouping by major eras. Interspersed were detail displays of various components like transmissions, fuel delivery, suspension systems, body materials, and of course, those powerful engines.


As we wandered amongst the royalty of American sports cars, it again began apparent what an impact with car has had on the automotive world. Innovation through engineering and race track tested durability has made this car what it is today. From its humble beginnings in Flint Michigan to St. Louis Missouri to its current manufacturing facility in Bowling Green Kentucky, this refined motorcar is still the crown jewel for GM. Whatever else occurs with the rest of GM’s product line, I’d bet my next bottle of Geritol that this car will always be made.

I have to admit my favorite exhibit was one that had a pair of 1965’s and a bare chassis. My one and only Vette’ was a Glen green 65' coupe with a 300hp 327, a rare automatic transmission, air conditioning, tilt-telescoping wood trimmed steering wheel, tan leather interior, and a rate touring tank. I bought it in 1969 for $2200 and sold it a year later for $2300. I’m still kick myself for that stupid deed.

So make the trip. It’s not only a trip into automotive dreamland ... but it’s just plain fun.

Still headed south and ... still livin’ the dream.

Phil

The Bourbon Trail

So it’s now Friday and we’re a little further south. I’d thought we’d be in Bowling Green Kentucky today drooling over the beauties at the Corvette Museum but we had a small course correction. Seems that Kentucky is the ancestral home of that old favorite ... bourbon whiskey. For a lot of reasons I won’t go into (ok it’s the water from the limestone geology in the region) this unique libation has a following as defined as the grape squeezer in Napa Valley. Jim Beam, Four Roses, Wild Turkey, Maker’s Mark and others are tightly grouped along the locally famous ‘Kentucky Bourbon Trail‘. Within just a few miles you’ll find all the big names in bourbon. So rather than look at neat cars maybe we could enjoy some bourbon neat. With a little web research we concluded that Maker’s Mark had the best factory tour and most importantly it was not located in a ‘dry’ county. Seems one of the more famous distillers is located in a county whereas one cannot sample the product on site. No drinking in a county that makes bourbon … go figure!

Anyway... Maker’s Mark it was. I called to see where I could park my rig but a little inside information from the I 65 rest stop host said the road to get there was better suited for a motorcycle … not a motor coach. So we found a quaint little 31 site park (My Old Kentucky Home State Park in Bardstown KY) and parked the rig. The I 65 rest stop host was right on with his advice. Certainly one of those Corvettes would have been at home on the roads leading to Maker’s Mark, but not a big coach.

Beautiful scenery but twists and turns, ups and downs, and no guard rails keeping you from those stone laden ravines. So we unhooked the toad and made the 16 mile trip. A pleasant drive except for the locals who, after driving these lanes for all their lives, couldn't seem to understand that riding my bumper would not make me drive faster. Already white-knuckled and sweaty palmed, I was not to be intimidated. Besides I had not brought a change in underwear or maybe I would have given them a run for their money.

We turned onto a gentle lane, guarded by a hand fitted limestone wall on one side and a briskly moving stream on the other. After round a bend or two we came upon a a beautifully landscaped facility with many large darkly painted building with distinctive Maker’s Mark red trim.

After parking we headed for the reception area for the guided tour. The old home, turned reception center, already had a number of other folks waiting so we made our self at home. Soon an attractive young blond girl gathered us on the big porch outside and explained what the next hour and a half would entail. I thought to myself 1 ½ hours … whew! That’s a long tour and what did I get myself into?

As the tour began, it was evident that the property was perfectly maintained and our guide Natalie was very well suited for the job. She knew this business of bourbon making from top to bottom. She was one of 22 employees; that’s right only 22 employees run Maker’s Mark. Almost everyone is cross-trained in other jobs within the business so she was very familiar with everything. When asked, with such a small crew, what would they do if several employees got the sick? Her answer?… shut the place down until the people got better. Try that at your workplace.

Explaining all the nuances of the bourbon making process is beyond my capabilities but it appears that beyond the ingredients and the general equipment used this is a very personal business. It’s personal because it involves people tasting and smelling the product throughout the process to determine if its fit’s the distillers unique standard. It’s definitely not an empirical process but more of a ’seat-of-the-pants’ ( or nose ) process honed and defined over decades. They know it’s right … when it’s right. Not something written down but something they somehow know.
As we were led through the property we were all waiting for two things. The first was where did they put on the distinctive red wax seal on every bottle and where do we get to sample it.

After seeing the sour mash vats the fermentation vats and all the other processes, we were taken to the bottling section.

Two bottling stations filled the empties at a pace of about 1 bottle every 5 seconds. They are fed down a line where caps and labels are installed. They then arrive at the dipping station where 4 workers (2 on each side of the conveyor line) alternately grab a bottle off the line, turn it over and tip it into the 400 degree hot red wax.

Giving the bottle a quick turn as they lift it out, they give a unique look. Some say that each ‘dipper’ has a unique style and one educated in such things can tell which employee dipped a particular bottle. Pretty neat.
Near our last stop was the storage barn where barrel racks some three stories high hold the precious concoction. Holding about 32 gallons, the barrels start at the top of the building and slowing migrate down as they age. A process that can take 3 to 5 years. They also turn the barrels (by hand) ever so often to make sure the contents are well mixed.
After looking over the hundreds of barrels in just one of many of these huge storage barns we were led into an ultra classy tasting room. The final treat.

We had an initial taste of sour mash (I’d say moonshine) followed by the bourbon just to show us the difference. They had about 60 samples set out for the 15 of us so if you desired, you could have more. I took advantage of this deal.

The real final treat was that if you purchased a bottle, you could hand dip it in the famous red wax yourself and autograph the bottle. We picked out a one litre bottle, put on safety glasses and gloves and they showed us how to dip it. So someone special is going to receive this personalized Maker’s Mark bottle. I hope they enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed this excellent (free) tour.

Still livin’ (and today drinkin’) the dream.

Phil

On the road again

Leaving the RV Museum we headed for the Elkhart Campground located about 4 miles away. A camp recommended by ‘Big Rigs Best Bet Campground Directory'; a book we use regularly when traveling. We called ahead to make sure they were even open this time of year. As luck would have it they were so they had great WiFi, FHU and lots of sites available so it was our best bet. The sprawling 26 acre park was operated by a charming Indian family who were hard at work laying electrical service to two very large A/C units for their new banquet hall. The park was about to close for the season but they still had plenty to do.

Good to see park owners who believed that rv’ing still had a future and was willing to invest their money and time to make their park better. My friend Bill with his rig and Sharon and I in ours were shown our sites. Since we were only looking for a quick overnight stay, we were located in the newer part of the park. It’s still as little spartan, lacking a paved pad but it was level and dry and easy to get in and out. I could certainly recommend this park for anyone visiting the Elkhart area.

Moving on a few more miles south the next day to a nice medium size town of Columbus Indiana.

What’s a trip with us without a restaurant review? Not to disappoint, join us for our trip to a little Chinese place Sharon located on the net in the town of Columbus Indiana, our next stop. We located a park (which will go unnamed) south of town near the highway. Not the easiest place to maneuver my rig around in but adequate. My guess it’s used a lot by temporary workers to the area as there certainly a fair amount of new construction underway.

But back to the restaurant…..

After a somewhat circuitous trip to this out of the way mall we found the storefront and went inside. We discovered a very well decorated and equally clean and inviting eatery that sat maybe 100 diners. It was after 8:00pm but there were still maybe 25 customers present. One of my habits (probably not a polite one at that) is to sort of wander around those already eating as our hostess led us to our table. My clever thinking is that seeing and smelling what others are eating will help me figure out what I may want. It rarely works but I keep sniffing and wandering anyway. It’s always interesting to see the looks people give if I linger too long at their table.

The name of the place is Mark Pi‘s China Gate at the Fair Oaks Mall. And this is as good a Chinese restaurant as I have been to in many years of dining out. And to think that it’s in a mall in Columbus Indiana. The appetizer Bill got for us was a potpourri of egg rolls, barbecued pork ribs, crab Rangoon, scallop rumaki,skewered beef and shrimp toast. With a small cast iron caldron placed table center to sear our various appetizers the presentation was both elegant and functional. We each ordered something different and made additional requests to either add or subtract something from the dish (spices or meat) to make it special for our taste. The orders were filled quickly and exactly as we had ordered and … prepared to perfection. As if we hadn’t had enough to eat … we got two, count em’ two … fortune cookies each. So if you’re within 50 miles of this place you must stop and pay them a visit and after dining, you will be livin’ the dream too.

Phil

Making headway

The great thing about retirement is that plans are not written in stone. We'd planned to make our next stop in Indianapolis but something came up. We gained a travelling companion. My old friend Bill said he'd signed up for a few days vacation and wondered if he could tag along our route for a while. Maybe lasting until Bowling Green Kentucky before turning back home. Great idea we thought but he mentioned he wanted to visit the RV Hall of Fame and Museum in Elkhart first. Not too far out of our way I figured so why not. So we headed out at the crack of noon and meandered south on I69. Once into Indiana I needed to head west on the the I 80 toll road and get off at exit 96.

As I approached the toll booths general confusion overtook me and could not quickly determined which pay lane I needed to be in. It must be a part of the aging process as lady luck was not on my side as I picked the wrong lane.
I was in the lane that truckers use with their automated toll readers. They barely slow down when passing through but I had come to a dead stop trying to figure out what to do next. Not a soul in the toll booth ... only a small metal tower with a speaker phone and a green 'help' button.

I jabbed at the button about the same time as the first 18 wheeler pulled in behind me and began laying on his air horns. An unintelligible voice came over the speaker apparently asking what help might I need. After asking her several times to repeat herself I finally thought she wanted my credit card number. Not knowing exactly where my wallet was, Sharon began searching around the coach. Still the horns continued in the background. Then a small blond lady appeared at the side of the coach saying that I could pay cash. I stopped talking to the women on the intercom and handed the lady a $20 bill. She handed it back saying she needed exact change. The horns behind us continued. We switched gears from wallet searching to finding exact change somewhere in the coach. Purses, pants pockets, and finally... Sharon found our bag of quarters we use for the laundromats. Grabbing a handful, I shoved them towards the attendant ... as the horns blared on. Somehow I had given her what she had asked for ... $2.25.
We had really owed them close to $10 but apparently they were so happy to get something out of us and out of the way of the increasing line of trucks, they raised the gate and let us go. Whew! We hurried along hoping that none of the angry mob of road warriors would catchup with us.


We quickly found the RV museum and Bill was waiting for our arrival. A beautiful building located along the toll road with plenty of rv parking (would you expect anything less?). We ventured inside and was met by two volunteers. Now these folks have lived and breathed rv'ing for a great long time and the love of the work they do in making this museum a great stop is fantastic. Not at all bashful about talking about what they love and do is both refreshing and sets an example for others to follow.


Sharon took the nice shot of a portion of the museum. Pretty good I'd say.

As we wandered throughout the large building I couldn't help but see how little I knew of the history of rv'ing. And the level of engineering that had occurred decades ago... wow..... what marvels.


Suddenly stricken by that 'howdtheydothat' disease, Bill inspects the mechanicals of an old front wheel drive Cortez manufactured by the Clark Equipment Company of Battle Creek. Predating the famous GMC Motorcoach, this little beauty was a slick little rig for its day.


The woodworking and the metal work were in some cases, works of art. Sure today's rigs are luxurious with many fine features ... but some of these old beauties are just so neat their uniqueness make them extra special.

If I understood the tour guide, this Road Chief was the predecessor to the famous Air Stream line of trailers. The boat- tailed gleaming beauty was as shiny as your grandmother's teapot. Though it looks painted in this photo, it is not; what you see is the reflections off some of the other nearby units. Besides the unique shape, the entrance to this rig is through the door located in the front, behind the hitch. This location obviously didn't catch on but the aircraft inspired shape did. It was one of my favorites.

So if you ever get around northern Indiana, stop by the museum and take a look. Even if you're not into rv'ing, it's still a neat nostalgia trip.

We're leaving for parts south whenever we fall out of bed in the morning. Not much of a plan but it's all we've got so far. We now needed to find a place to spend the night.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

And here we go ...

We're off and running ... the new journey has finally begun... but not without a little drama.

Planning to leave Tuesday around noon, we had to wait for a FedEx shipment that was promised that day. Little did we know we'd be the last delivery on the guys 500 mile route. He'd been on the road so long he had a 3 day beard. Anyway we got underway at sundownbut and about 30 miles down the road I had one of those feelings that only those who own a big old coach could know. Something wasn't right. I found the next rest stop and did a quick look-around and found the air line to the toad's braking system had disconnected ... meaning the toad brakes couldn't help me stop. Not a huge deal but something that needed fixing. A little scraping with my Swiss Army knife and presto...it was fixed. Do you suppose I'm psychic? So on we went into the night. I hate driving the coach at night for some reason ... maybe it's because I can't see as well but whatever it is I'll take daylight driving anytime.

We motored along through Lansing on towards our first stop ... Battle Creek. We planned to visit friends and relatives and thought we'd just park the rig at the new Fire Keepers casino. Easy to find off I94, we'd figured they'd have a big parking lot that was safe and level. About 15 minutes before arriving I started the generator just to exercise it a bit. It roared to life and all is good... I thought. Then a couple of miles down the road I noticed something new. My transmission temperature gage was spastic, bouncing wildly from side to side. No correlation between the generator and gage but just something more to worry about.

Arriving at the casino I mistakenly passed the two entrances I should have gone into but did manage to turn into the employees parking lot. I pulled to the rear only to drive down a dead end lane ... which meant I needed to unhook the toad and back out. I started the process grumbling to myself when the casino security drove up asking if I needed any help. After registering my dismay about the size of the RV parking sign (the one I missed) I said said yes that he could help direct me so as I wouldn't back over an embankment. He was more than helpful and led me to the proper parking area. He cautioned me not to use my levelers as it would wreck the asphalt and directed me to a dirt field if I needed to. He also noted that the casino wasn't too excited about rv'ers but apparently tolerated us. They apparently don't like over-nighters. I don't think that was an official answer but the way the parking is set up I could agree with him. Tight turns and narrow entrance ways and few, if any, pull-thrus. While chatting with him the generator unexpectedly stopped. It looked as if I had plenty of fuel (1/3 tank) but just in case the gage was wrong, I backed the rig out of my fresh new parking spot and headed for a nearby truck stop. Topping out with only 130 gallons I knew that the generator could not have been starved for fuel because there were still 70 gallons on board. I cranked and crank on the generator for a half a dozen times but no luck. Figuring it was a fuel shut-off solenoid problem, I gave up and Sharon and I headed for the casino ... planning to win enough money to buy a new rig in the morning. Well that pipe dream didn't happen ... but at least we had the chance to get with our friends George and Paula for an hour or so as they came out to the casino to see us.

About an hour later, and maybe $30 in the hole, we said our goodbyes to our dear friends and those hungry one-armed bandits and headed back to a cold coach. Without an electrical hookup or a working generator it was going to be a cold night. With a sub 30 degree evening ahead it was going to be a little nippy. Saving our batteries to run the refrigerator was the only choice (gotta keep the beer cold and the steaks frozen ya know) so we got ready for bed. It was just an after-thought but I decided to try the generator again and without hesitation it fired to life. It gave no reason for scaring me but just purred along producing all the power I would need. So the steaks, and beer and occupants are all now doing well. Life is good.

And this is just the first day... 100 miles from home. 1000 to go.

Still livin' the dream ...

Phil

When I'm sixty-four

"Will you still need me? "Will you still feed me? "When I'm sixty-four"
ends the first refrain from that 1967 Beatles song by Lennon and McCartney.

As it turns out ... those words still ring true.

My family still needs me. And I need them.
They took me out for a great evening. Good food and good drink.
And they helped me celebrate my sixty-fourth birthday. I couldn't be happier.

But most of all ... having them all together and having a great time.

Still livin' the dream at 64

Phil