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

Observations

Sometimes you're just in awe of your fellow road warriors.

While my little cluttered mind was working through all the things I needed to do before heading south, I came upon a driver on the interstate who had adorned the hood of his more-than slightly used Dodge with about one hundred 3-D plastic army action figures.

Now I'm all for expressing ones self but this guy really had it together. His green platoons were strategically place around the various rust spots and bare paint areas with great precision. This portable battlefield was to ponder over wherever he travelled. Right out the front windshield. Oh what a great idea , I thought.

As he passed me my mind cleared of the clutter and confusion. Here, whizzing by me was something that made me smile and think of something other than my own issues.

So, whoever you are ... wherever you are young general of the road, thanks. A smile and a good laugh is great medicine.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Small world

The following is of little consequence but was interesting to me.

This evening, while attending a Lions Club event, I sat at a table with two brothers and one said he had recently retired from the Air Force with over 30 years service. The other brother had served 4 years in the Marine Corp and I noted that I had served 2 years in the Army. I guess it wasn't so strange that we represented 3 of the 4 services but what I found interesting was that we all had served on the island of Okinawa off the southern coast of Japan at one time during our respective careers. As our tours of duty were spaced some 10 or more years apart, it was interesting to learn of the things we had each seen and the changes we had each experienced.

Old warriors hashing over the good times. It was a good day.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Shutting the lights off

It was such a glorious day... sort of. White cotton-like clouds formed a perfect backdrop for the fall colors here in the park. The crisp fall temperatures were in place as the remaining few of us hustled around getting our rigs packed for its next destination.

Don and Julie were first to leave this morning. Preparation was a little different for them as they were leaving their coach here for the winter and heading west for the winter.

Rod and Hollie followed in their classic Bluebird coach. Its distinctive sound reminds me of a Harley on steroids. Ya gotta love those 2 cycle diesels. We had an enjoyable dinner together last night at a packed (surprise) Clementines. I don't know where all those people came from on the off season but we had to wait for 30 minutes to get a table. I can certainly recommend the bloody Mary's (try the hot ones). They will be meandering across the country destined for Yuma.

Then Scott, Marilyn, and Katherine packed up and left ... they too were leaving their 5th wheel here so we know they'll be back in the Spring.

Next Alex and Barb headed out. With the Chicago area their destination, they'll have a short and hopefully safe journey.

Jim and Chris had an even shorter trip as they headed off for Schoolcraft area. Not that leaving was simple, as they had a little door lock problem but that was solved with a little elbow grease and help from Jerry.

Ron and Tammy (and Rufus) were next. Their new sedan packed to the gills with all things precious and useful ... all destined to end up at their new digs in Florida. And a special thanks to Tammy ... the pumpkin ice cream you left us was fantastic.

So all the good-byes have been said ... most of the rigs are gone, the sun has set and here we sit. The only souls in the entire park. Not even sure if Hal and Mary are still around. We still have a little packing to do in the morning but we too will be heading on to new vistas before long. It's time to move on. And ... we'll shut the lights off.

We sincerely hope that all our 'family' here at Cousins have a great winter season ... wherever they are.

And speaking of family ... I think we all would like to thank Hal and Mary Cousins again for providing us all a great place to spend the summer. We all appreciate a clean, well run park whose owners take special pride in making sure their guests are well taken care of.

Stay tuned as another road trip will soon be upon us.


Still livin' the dream.


Phil

The Big Cook-Off

As we're now full swing into "fallter" (my new term for that time between fall and winter), the leaves are turning amber bock brown, there is a crispness in the air and a definite need to warm your innards with some good old comfort food. Now I'm not talking pb&j sandwiches, or mac & cheese but man-type comfort food .... food that is served hot, warms your lips and on the way down, warms you from inside out. You guessed it ... CHILI . That eclectic concoction of wondrously delicious ingredients that is thought to be a purely Texan creation but consumed across the land.

With recipes numbering in the hundreds, chili has grown into one of America's staples for the table. Usually made with some combination of beef, tomatoes, beans, onions, and of course chili peppers; many other edible additives can be tossed in to 'make it special'.

Though purest (the old saying goes "if you know beans about chili you know chili ain't got no beans") would reject the use of beans in this sumptuous brew, many cooks have advanced to add these little 'noise makers'. Be they hot ... mild ... white ... black ... Navy ... beans are a great filler that add new flavor and color to the mix.
























So 'fallter' is upon us here in southwestern Michigan and the remaining few us here at Cousins RV park decided to have a chili cook-off contest. Hosts Hal and Mary organized the affair and there were 6 contestants entered in this 1st Annual Chili Cook-off. As contest time grew near, the normally loquacious cooks were as tight-lipped as a CIA spy. With only a fleeting mention of a secret ingredient now and again, (did I hear oatmeal or chicken or cumin or noodles or even peanut butter?) ... the tension built as we approached the day of judgement.

With anticipation peaked, we all headed with pot and crock-pot in hand and a dish to pass to the clubhouse. Hal and & Mary had everything laid out with gold medals and trophies. A really nice touch on their part.

The steaming crucibles of love and joy were anonymously labeled and small tasting cups and spoons were placed in front for all to taste what the cooks had created. About 20 votes were cast and we anxiously waited the results. I might say that after trying each one of them, anyone one of them would be welcome at my dinner table. So the voters had their work cut out for them.
























The the tasting was done ... the counting was over ... there was finally a declared winner. No hanging chads or dangling participles either. Our 2009 Chile Cook-Off Queen was none other than my wife Sharon. Used to only winning on an occasional scratch-off lottery ticket, she managed to beat the professionals here in the park. I'm so proud.

The 2009 Cousins Chili Champions

Celebrations followed starting off with Mary's homemade 'apple tini's'. A wickedly sweet yet powerful brew that quickly vanished after a round or two of toasts to all the champions.

Being with good friends and neighbors makes any occasion worthwhile. This final gathering at Cousins for the 2009 camping season was however a little bittersweet. As each of us head our separate ways for the winter, we'll all miss each other but will have fond memories of all the neat things we did this past summer.

As for the Chili Queen and I ... we will be heading south soon. Meandering toward the Gulf coast once again to escape the winter and find another undiscovered shrimp bar.

Stick around and follow our travels. Leave a comment now and again so we know what you're thinking.

On the road again soon and still livin' the dream.

Phil

Mystery solved!

Several weeks ago; sometime during our normal 4:00 soiree with the neighbors, it was revealed that Jerry and Della's beautiful Blue Bird coach had somehow been damaged. Normally spotless and without blemish, this regal chariot suffered, what appeared to be a sharp, paint penetrating ding along its passenger side flank. Was it a stone chip? Was it an errant Frisbee? Was it a bullet? What evil has set upon this luxurious beast of burden?

Close inspection uncovered little of what or who perpetrated this crime. None-the-less Jerry remained deeply distraught and sought relief with a tall, friendly Dewars now and again to help the pain.

Now desperate and seeking a fix, Jerry soon made an appointment , not at the local Earl Shieb's little shop of horrors but returning it to its original home at Holland Motors. Promised a quick turn-around paint repair he and Della closed out their stay here in South Haven and headed off to get their coach fixed.

But the mystery remained ... until now! But what really did cause that dent?
Haunted by this unsolved crime the little known, and mostly ignored, CSI squad from South Haven (better known at CSISH) finally cracked the case. Agents Rod and Phil (not their real names) poured over the crime scene early today and through a variety of highly scientific techniques, have discovered what the reason for this heinous act.

It seems that as the tail of comet Archodolis had just passed through earth's orbit, small astroidial like particles were caught in our gravity field and were subsequently sucked into our atmosphere. Falling like a pair of pants with broken suspenders, one of these little projectiles from Hades homed in on Jerry's coach and struck it broadside. Call it fate ... call it punishment ... call it a sign from high above ... whatever the reason ... it happened. Mystery solved! It's the story CSISH is telling and we're sticking to it. We now hope that Jerry and Della can finally get some rest before heading off to their next destination.

Still livin' the dream in South Haven but getting ready to head south to dream up some more stuff.

Phil

Huff and Puff

As promised, let me tell about all the excitement we've had this past week here in South Haven. With steady 40mph winds and regular gusts to 60mph, Lake Michigan was as angry as several of the old timers here had ever seen it.

Churning and boiling like a pot of jambalaya, the normally placid lake was angry as my wife when I interrupt her Wii game. Trying every few seconds to knock the smithereens out of the old lighthouse, Mother Nature drove the lake unmercifully. I figure collectively, the folks here in South Haven must have pissed off the old girl (Mother Nature not Sharon) someway and she needed to show the town who's boss.

Hugh waves rushed up the channel each like a Pacific tsunami, some over 4 feet above the blue safety rail along the channel. Just to give you some idea how high that is ... the normal channel water level is about 5 foot below the walkway that runs alongside the channel ... the rail is about 4 foot high so add another 4 foot or so at the peak of the waves and you have waves in the channel in excess of 13ft. It sure kept the local dinghy jockeys dockside.

Looking across to the North Shore beach, the end-loaders were busy trying to scoop up the blown sand that was piling up all along North Shore Drive. Steadily they worked to keep the road open but it was the home openers I felt a little sympathy for. Driveways were filled and I can only image the mess each owner had to clean. Great place to live if you don't mind a little sand in your shorts.

I quess it was just another day at the beach for the local gulls. With Pallisades nuclear power plant in the background, the little scavengers just hunkered down and looked for whatever tasty morsels of garbage were blown ashore.

So in our sheltered retirement life a little excitement broke out. No harm ... no foul. Except for the mess it left in my yard.

On another subject ...

Now and again we're asked what we do all day. It's sort of like they want want me to admit out loud that we don't do a thing all day... you know, maybe lay in bed till 10 ... get dressed at noon ... maybe take a short nap ... barely get up in time for happy hour at 4 ... stagger home and grill a dog or two for dinner... watch TV for a few hours ... surf the web for a couple of hours ... then turn in for the night. Well okay ... you caught us! So maybe we do do these things occasionally but, so what! To the victory goes the spoils ... right? After winning the work battle with over 40 years each, years of toil, some of our spoils are a little goofing off. No excuses ... and as the more we think of it, the more we wish we could have started sooner.

Now we've not done this all by ourselves. With the help of the LaForests, Tafts, VanderWalls, Isaacsons, Holts, Martins, Schrems, Hattos, Schlatters, Jajes, Evans, and the Murphys our summer has been filled with steady stream of friends and family checking in and verifying that we have indeed been goofing off. Thanks again gang ... it would have been boring without you. However you all better get your bags packed as we getting ready to hit the road again.

So gas up the Nash, call TWA for a reservation, and don't forget those $9.95 rooms at the Red Roof Inn and join us at our next stop.

Still livin' the dream,

Phil

Seasoned men ...Seasoned ships

This past weekend was planned as a quick trip north to gather with old fishing friends for sort of a reunion. Several of us had missed the past few trips and our host George thought it might be nice if we could all make this trip. Most of us had met twice a year at the old Slagle Creek cabin for somewhere around 40 years. Spending comfortable campfire time talking of all things trivial and important. jabbing at each other with puns and jokes ... occasional good natured teasing, a bit of drink and food ... and now and again, a little fishing. Several of us were not staying at the cabin but all agreed to meet there Saturday afternoon for cocktails and catching up. It was good to see everyone and reminisce about old times. My days of roughing it at the cabin may be over but getting together with old friends is still pretty special.

So my way of roughing when up north is living with the Indians at the local casino hotel. With a sharp eye I stay vigilant and quickly recognize openings in their defenses. Unlike General Custer, I dart from buffet to slot machine to roulette table ... escaping capture but sacrificing my loot to the Ottawa warriors.

Leaving with hardly my scalp, I head south ... anticipating a tranquil and leisurely drive back to South Haven ... but wait! As I cross over the bridge in downtown Manistee I look to my left and see a large ore freighter poised in Manistee Lake ready to make the trip through town to the open water of Lake Michigan. Now if you didn't live around here and you looked at this 600ft ship you'd conclude that this behemoth was sort of a ship in the bottle as there would be no way something this size could ever get to that inland lake through this little waterway that meandered through downtown Manistee. I quickly turned around and headed to mid-town to get a vantage point whereas I could take a few pictures of this ark of ore as it squeezed through.




Now driving this little 'boat' through this mile long channel might seem pretty easy and maybe it is but ... the waterway isn't straight. It requires a rather tight right turn just after the stern passes beneath the first bridge (see raised bridge in the background). If the turn isn't precise the ship can run aground on the right or smash into the left shore. Of course that's after crushing a dozen pleasure boats already docked there.
























So if you think this waterway is not as small as I describe it and maybe this is all a little photo trickery... take a look at the guy fishing in the lower left corner of the image. Now here's a guy who can really complain about somebody stealing his favorite fishing hole.

As the boat got closer ... he correctly decided to retreat up the bank ... just in case.

Once the boat made the first turn he had to get lined up with the next bridge about 800ft away. She was already up tight against the pleasure boats but managed to use his bow thrusters and rudder to avoid pulverizing them and realign to center stream. Fighting a stiff wind and river current, this can't be easy.



Keeping the boat captain honest, the little minnow-like kayaks paddle along behind ... maybe pretending to be tub boats in waiting just in case the old girl drifts off course.

Built in 1929, the Maumee was the first self-unloading ore carrier on the Great Lakes. This technology revolutionized the shipping industry allowing ships to disgorge their cargo at ports that didn't have their own unloading equipment. Though I didn't know it at the time, an important piece of shipping history was passing before me... and I'm glad I did a little Googling later to uncover this part of the story.

As the old girl edged towards the big lake, I notice quite a number of folks had joined me river-side. Can't blame them as this is a sight that non-locals don't often see. One gent was taking pictures near me and asked if I followed this history of the great lakes boats. "I didn't" I said and he said he did ... noting that this may be the very last voyage for the old carrier. Having been on the sick and disabled list years past, apparently she's headed for the scrap heap after this trip. It's was only drawing about 20ft of water so I assumed it was empty. Water marks much higher up the hull indicated it usually carried a lot more weight. But those days are behind her now.

As she eased her way along the condo lined waterway, the crew was at the rail. These scruffy sea dogs were watching us watch them. I'm not sure who was enjoying the experience more.

Occasionally waving at the on-lookers, their young faces were weathered and well tanned. These were men of the sea.

With a slight course correction within 1/4 mile of the big lake, the majesty of this old boat could be finally seen in her 600ft entirety when the river widen. Rusty and worn. Survivor of of many a Great Lake storm. Her bow rode high in the water, maybe even a bit of pride showing as she knew she had a beat the odds and lasted for some 80 years doing the unglamourous job of hauling stuff most of us wouldn't recognize if a shovel full was placed at our feet.

I had the chance to witness a little of the Great Lakes shipping history today. Kind of a big deal for me, I think. In a age of 15 second sound bites, Twittering, and Facebook entries, this slow but steady old girl reminded me that once we had to do things methodically and over a period of time. This old ship's tasks were not easy, nor comfortable or without peril ... and yet she prospered and survived.

Easing past the Coast Guard station hidden behind her bow, the Maumee heads for open water and the trip through Lake Michigan and Lake Huron then on to Lake Erie.

Probably her last trip to Manistee.

The rest of the trip back to South Haven was not so eventfull but all that changed with the start of the new week. Stay tuned for supercharged Monday.....

It was a very good weekend. Old friends and old ships. A lot in common.

Still living the dream.

Phil

It ain't over... is it?

Say it isn't so. The fat lady hasn't sung has she? Where did all the flowers go? Please tell me it ain't so. Is it really over?
You know...Summer... what you waited for after that long, cold winter... what you hope will never end when you're comfortably ensconced in that lounge chair in the shade... gently sipping on that cool drink and reading your 401 statement from three years ago.


Oh but yes... it's almost over. The cool nights, the faint hint of orange in the tree tops, the 'Closing Soon' sign at the local Dairy Queen ... all speak of what's soon to pass and more ominously... what's soon to come.

As I watched a full moon chase a bright Jupiter across the evening sky the night bats darted amongst the pines seeking out other winged morsels, I glanced at my watch to only discover that it was only a little after 9:00pm and the sun had set and night was upon us. So it all must be true. The coals from the outdoor grill have lost their heat, the flowers of summer are fading fast. Can frozen nose hairs and hot toddies be close at hand?

We think ones life can best be measured not by what material things you've acquired... but by the friends and family that are blended into your day by day journey through time. We remember the many great places we've seen and the many fantastic moments we've experienced not by where we were... but by who we were with. So to all the many friends and family who have made this summer a special one to us ... thank you all.

Still livin' the dream and now trying to figure out where to escape a Michigan cold winter.

Zoom Zoom Zoom

Men are a curious lot. Driven by primal doctrines but often tamed by the beauty of a spring flower 0r the nose of a fine wine. Generations calmed by the winds of civility and harnessed by the fairer sex. Sometimes even cornered into submission ... But wait! Don't turn away! This definitely isn't about our 'softer' side. But the hunter-gatherer, king of the jungle, that guttural animal that now and again breaks those surly bonds and escapes to freedom. Real men know what I'm talking about. It's about turning on one of the few legal testosterone 'highs' known to modern man. CORVETTES! Yes a Corvette. That curvaceous mechanical temptress that stirs the embers of the loins, easily lowers your voice a full octave, and grows hair in the strangest places. Those blessed with the keys to such wondrous machines treat them like fickle lovers. Caressing them with soft chamois and luxurious waxes ...never allowing their skin to blemish or fade for fear they will somehow slip away in the night...never to be driven again.

You see ... Corvettes are never really owned but only allowed to be in the presence of those select few deemed worthy of the relationship. And a few weeks ago the love fest was here. That's right! Right here in a stoic RV camp as a platoon of these "Viagra" pills on wheels gracing the roadways of Cousins RV Park. Purring, roaring, shining ... they wound their way through camp like a stripper 'round a brass pole. Sensuous and masculine at the same time. Onlookers smiled, drooled and mused as the parade began. Many dreaming someday that they too could join in the dance ... the chest thumping, foot stomping ballet of the chosen few.

But some, like me... who had once danced in the arms of these mechanical lovers are now just happy to remember the good old days as the parade passes. Almost forgotten were the high insurance rates, the quirky acting vacuum headlights, the ever-present electrical problems ... but never forgetting the looks people gave you as you passed, the little wave from a passing vette' owner, or just that feeling of sitting in America's only true sports car right there in your driveway. Actually you didn't even need to start the engine... just sit there and admire and be admired.

The one thing that strikes me today is that the folks I grew up with are still the ones driving these beauties. Not kids... but maybe still kids at heart... mature guys and gals. Or maybe the kids today don't have the money ...thinking back my 65' coupe; bought in 67', cost me $2200 at the local Ford used car lot. Seemed like a lot back then. Or maybe today's kids are a little more conscious of their 'carbon footprint' or being 'green' than we were but I think there missing something really special.

As the parade ended and each car turned out of the parking lot and headed south on the Blue Star ...several gave us a little taste of what Yankee horsepower is all about. Not the high pitch scream of one of those overcooked 4 bangers but that guttural roar that only cubic inches can give. Blue smoke rolling from the wheel wells like steam from a locomotive with tires clawing into the pavement...the ever increasing roar from those powerful v-8's as they re-stripped the Blue Star with two fresh black ribbons of spent rubber. Now if that doesn't get your heart a thumping!

But as I was later told ... within a mile or so down the road, the troupe ran smack into the first leg of the area's yearly triathlon. With over 2000 bicyclist on the same two lane road, the smell of burning rubber turned into the torment of holding these mechanical beasts to a 15 mph crawl for then next 20 miles to Benton Harbor. So what was planned as a leisurely cruise to St. Joe for lunch turned into hot engines and maybe even some hot tempers. I can only imagine what venting occurred on their return trips home.

Anyway it was a fun experience that brought back a lot of memories for me and hopefully will turn into a yearly event to be enjoyed by all.

Still livin' the dream.

Phil

Cooking on the barbee

I promised a review of another one of the local eateries so this time it will be the 'The Grill House' in nearby Allegan.

Thankfully I have a GPS so I plugged in the address and followed the young lady jabbering from the silver little box stuck to the inside of my SUV's windshield. She's pleasant enough but just doesn't shut up when you make a wrong turn. Helpful I suppose ...but annoying.

Anyway the 20 some mile journey east of South Haven takes you though small farm country to this neat little town of which I had never before visited. A quick tour of the downtown area was kind of step back in time as it had the feel of the 1950's to it. We're anxious to return to the Old Regent Theatre just for a nostalgia trip. The outside marque is just as it was probably 60 years ago. Add garish neon, buttered popcorn, and a box of Thin Mints... maybe there will even be some 'necking' going on in the balcony!

Back to The Grill House... An old farm house with just a touch of modernization. Just about two miles out of town in farm country on M40. We planned to dine with friends on a Saturday night but when calling for a reservation we learned they were completely booked. "In Allegan?" "Completely booked?" you're kidding I thought to myself. I figured it must have been a 4H convention or a hog auction to get that kind of crowd in the middle of 'nowhere' but I couldn't have been more wrong.

We all settled for Friday night but still could only get an early seating. We arrived on time and were promptly taken to our seat. Not the best table in the place (like one near a window) but at least it was close to our kitchen. 'Yea Gads' you say! A table by the kitchen. How tacky. But wait! Remember I said our kitchen. You see 'our kitchen' is the one we'll use to cook our own food. Now wait another minute .... spend a goodly amount of money and have to cook your own food? Have we been out in the heat too long? But wait... that's what this place is famous for!

Let me tell you how The Grill House works... After seating, drinks, appetizers, and a salad we we're herding (local talk I'm told) off to the kitchen. First stop was the meat case. Spread out in front of us were stacks of Porterhouse, New York strip, fillet Mignon, and rib eye. Some fresh ... some dry aged for extra flavor. Not into beef ? ... then pick out chicken fillet, salmon, or large, in shell, shrimp. Behind us was this hot charcoal grill about the size of two picnic tables. A little odd I thought as it was slanted...higher in the middle and lower to the edge. I'll explain later. We picked out the steak I wanted and did I forget to tell you... you can share a steak with your date.
Talk about saving money! You have a service charge added for the person you're sharing with but you save a bit cash and almost avoid bursting the buttons on your trousers from over-eating.

Okay... we've picked out our meat (a well marbled NY strip) and the friendly staff tells you what you need to do to have a great meal. First he pointed out the far wall which had several racks and a table filled with a variety spices, salts and peppers to doctor up your steak if you wish. Then he explained the grill and how to use it. The highest point of the grill was about 750 degrees, the middle about 450 degrees and the lowest part about 300 degrees. Start off at the top of the grill for about 2 minutes a side then move to the middle for several more and finally the bottom to finish it off. At the same time, you're grilling you can also be simmering your button or portabella garlic and butter enhanced mushrooms in their own little iron skillet.

Oh the heat ... the sizzle ... and that Oh My God aroma of steak on the barbee. I not sure if I'm breaking out in a sweat from the sight of this delectable morsel laid out before me ... or the heat from this inferno I'm standing in front of. Doesn't matter as it's almost time. Time for this delicious looking slab of beefdom to find its self on my platter along with roasted red skinned potatoes and mushrooms. Yup... man food at its finest. Back to my primal roots as the kingdom's hunter/gatherer. I drizzled a little melted butter atop my prize and returned to the table to share with my woman.

Our dear friends who joined us for the feast (we're all seasoned diners) and over the last 35 years we've been getting together several times a year to celebrate either a birthday or anniversary. Tonight was anniversary night where collectively we have enjoyed over 120 years of marriage. We tried to convince the waitress that 120 years should be worth a free desert but no luck. She stood her ground and we had to buy our own. Everyone in our group was very pleased with the quality of our food and the unique atmosphere.

Yes you could pay an additional $2 and the grill master would cook the steak for you but that's half the fun of going there. One thing for sure it would be difficult to ruin your dinner as the staff is really looking over what you're doing and ready to step in and save what you may be slowly turning to charcoal. And another thing is that you'll never have to complain that your food is cold as you're the one doing the cooking.

So ... plan ahead. Make a reservation. Enjoy whichever way you need to drive to get there. And be prepared for a fun evening, great food, and and friendly atmosphere. You can even kick up your heels in the lower level as they have live entertainment and lighter meals as well. Expect to pay somewhere between $22 and $30 for a steak (and don't forget you can share). They also have a steak that weighs in at 42 ounces. This monster, if eaten within an hour will win you a The Grill House tee shirt. (hope it's XXL after that meal).

We're sure to head back there before summer is out so why don't you give them a try? The hit cable show "Travel Channel" recently featured them in their series on 'Great Steak Houses in America' so I'm in good company with my recommendation.

Still livin' the dream

Phil

4 o'clock

I'm not sure who invented 4 o'clock but I've discovered over the years lots of good things occur at that hour of the afternoon. For instance: It's after school and your mom is home cooking up something for dinner and the house smells so good. Or... it's 4 o'clock on Saturday afternoon and your first date with that real cute girl is soon to happen. Or... it's 4 o'clock and it's almost quitting time at the office. Or... it's 4 o'clock and it's happy hour in our campground.

A time to share memories, aches and pains, hobbies, and most importantly ... a laugh or two. Maybe it's human nature to gather in these groups and that helps create the bonds that keeps us civilized. Sort of mankind's way of smoothing out life's bumps and bruises. We of course don't do any of these things or subscribe to any of those lofty principles but simply use it as a way to legitimize the daily imbibing in our favorite drink. Anyway that's my story.

Throw in a few lawn chairs, a bowl of popcorn, a little sunshine and we're having a party. Not to excess mind you, but just a little something to knock off the edge of a day filled with the stresses of napping and snacking.

Everyone is welcome. Yes there is a core of regulars, but new blood always is welcome. Stories are shared, sometimes more than once, but no one cares if there is a repeat or two. Considering the depth and breath of life's experiences of those attending, there are enough stories from our collective past to last many more summers. Letting one's hair down is the end result and this is a good thing.

So stop by, introduce yourself, pull up your lawn chair and relax.

Still livin' the dream ...one 4 o'clock at a time

Sampling the wares

Once a restaurant critic...always a restaurant critic.
Previous entries have detailed our experiences at eateries across the midwest and south. To the point that some have inferred that our travels are mere excuses to eat out. Okay you caught us. We do like to sample the local cuisine more often than not because neither of us like to cook. We sorta do... but we like to dine out more.

First off is 'Su Casa'. I think this means 'my house' is Spanish but for all I know maybe it's the owners name. Located in downtown South Haven just down the street from the movie theater, it's sandwiched between other brownstone buildings circa 1900 with a large glass front and a placard in the street hawking the day's drink special. Up a couple of steps into a long, narrow room with tall 16 foot ceilings, a long bar and seating for maybe 75. Pretty sparsely decorated but clean and neat. A very pleasant young woman took us to a table close to the front door. Not the classic strategic seat for power eaters but provided a great view of what others were being served and who's coming in the front door. We're also thinking that if the service or food didn't look that good be could quickly escape.

Our waitress brought us the drink menu and a heaping bowl of warm salsa chips, salsa, and a small bowl of carrots and peppers that had been cured in something nuclear. The snacks are apparently included with all meals. The veggies are Hot... but oh so good. Something you eat slowly and in small doses. I ordered a margarita but she said something about being a virgin and I began wondering where the conversation was headed but then realized that she was telling me the drink would not have alcohol in it. Apparently they hadn't been blessed by the state licensing bureau yet. I discarded the margarita idea and went out on a limb I seldom, if ever go out on. I ordered one of those yuppie (are they still around?) drinks with pineapple, cranberry juice, guava droppings and a spiffy name that I still can't remember. Sharon ordered some sort of limey concoction and after a fashion they both appeared at our table in sweaty cold classes and sprigs of some sort of green leaves atop for decoration. Mint I suspect but could have been anything. It looked nice but a overflowing shot of Jose Cuerva would have made it rrrrrrrrrreally good.

As we sipped our drinks we had a chance to look around and see what others were having. I like watching others eat and what they're eating. Somehow I glean from their pleasure or displeasure what I should consider ordering. I look and look and wonder but usually end up ordering tacos. They're cheap and filling. The perfect meal. So I scanned the menu and decided that tacos are generally small so I'll order three. One chicken, one steak, and one beef. Throw on a little cheese, tomato, and lettuce in semi-soft, yet delicately fried tortilla and now you're talking a meal. Sharon ordered a chicken fajita with the normal trimmings including a little onion. After a short wait our waitress brought out our tray of goodies. All things good and wonderful lay before us. Not exactly health food but classic comfort food you'll return to time and time again. My tacos were each wrapped in aluminum foil to keep them warm until I was ready to eat. Sharon's fajita was served a little different than she was accustomed to. Normally served with the meat on a hot skillet with a side of steamed tortillas and loads of peppers and veggies... but in this case the meat and veggies were placed on a single plate and it really didn't matter as the results were very tasty. As I could barely finish the second taco, I knew I'd have a snack to take home. Delicious stuff but there was just too much to eat. Anyway I had a snack to take home and enjoy later. All in all we can certainly recommend 'Su Casa' for quality, quantity, and value.

Next time I'll review our outing to Allegan's 'Grill House'. Featured on cable TVs Food Network recently, we'll tell you how it met with our taste buds.

Still livin' the dream

Phil

Not good news

Not a happy ending to report today. Oprah, the camps new pet is missing and presumed off to 'hawk heaven'. The youngster wasn't content to stay in her cage, but always crying to get out and see the world. So as she grew older, she had earned more privileges; now having the run of the garage and riding around the camp in a golf cart with Hal. Apparently she managed to scoot out an open barn door when no one was looking and the local red tailed hawk may have seized the opportunity. We all hoped she had just wandered off but the odds are slim that she did. She has been missing for three days now.
So life in the animal kingdom is sometimes cruel and unforgiving but for a very short time this early summer, she provided us all with a special friendship and fond memories. R.I.P.

The 4th and beyond

Our nation's holiday has passed and the park is starting to settle down at bit. The weekenders have left but South Haven has a new crowd in town. It seems the city fathers have decided that as long as people wanted to have a fireworks display it should be on a day when the weekenders were gone so the locals could find a parking place and enjoy an evening of booms and star bursts. Well surprise surprise. Many of the weekenders are still hanging around and some folks are making the trip into town from miles around. The results is there is still few places to park, the beaches are crowded, the town fathers are still footing the fireworks bill and the locals still have to struggle to see where their tax dollars are being spent. At least all the interlopers are spending a little of their cash and that helps the merchants.



Yesterday, the 4th, was quite a day here with park owners Hal and Mary Cousins putting on a grand pig roast. Hosted by Corky, Micki, Jerry and Bonna, there were no stomachs left unfilled. Well planned with even a motorcade with decorated golf carts all decked out in red, white and blue. The pig was sooooo tasty you had to be careful not to eat too much. Doing so and you'd miss all the homemade salads and of course the homemade desserts. It was definitely one of those two pound days.

Just an update on the Hal's new best friend Oprah.... (that's NOT her above)... I went to the barn yesterday morning and she crawled out from one of the lawn tractors to greet me. She sniffed around me and headed outside apparently thinking I wasn't either food or somethings to play with. There is a big maple tree next to the barn and she scampered up. I thought she'd only go up a few feet up as she looked tentatively back now and again. But up and up she went. Maybe she was expecting me to follow but since a step ladder is about my limit, that wasn't in the cards. So after a few wobbly minutes she was perched some 60 feet over my head. Just a little banded-eyed speck amongst the limbs and leaves.

Since the pig roast was soon to begin, I figured she'd be up there for the day or she'd fall victim to a misstep so I headed to the festivities. After about and hour or so I returned to the tree and spent a few minutes looking for the little critter. Without seeing her amongst the leaves, I began to look around the ground to see if she had made a bad step and maybe didn't make it. After a quick walk around I found nothing and became a little worried. Walking back to the coach, Hal's Grandson Colin went whizzing by me on his electric scooter doing about 20 mph. Perched on his shoulder was Oprah. Nose into the wind with tail whipping in the breeze. Now what stories will this raccoon tell her kits someday?

We've all been wondering if Oprah would be staying in camp this summer but ...apparently not. Grandson Colin has gotten permission to take Oprah home with him in a week or so. So it's been fun Oprah ... write when you can and good luck.

Today was left-overs day as there was enough food left over from the roast to have a nice lunch. So we all returned to the trough for another go at it. Just as good as yesterday but fewer desserts. Oh well... didn't need them anyway.

Tomorrow we're heading back home for a couple of days to take care of some business. It's getting harder to leave the park as summer has begun but the time will go quickly and we'll soon return to 'livin' the dream'.

Phil

Okay ...Okay

Okay so you want to see more of the little critter. I cornered the little rascal over at the barn and she (Oprah) was willing to pose for a few pictures. Oprah is quick becoming the darling of the park and is often seen riding around on one of the golf carts sitting on Hals' (park owner) shoulder. If you come around her she will follow you everywhere. So anyway here she is.

I'll keep you up-to-date on her growth...




























Looks like little Oprah is also 'livin the dream'

Catching Up

Wow... my how time flies when you're having fun. Seems I've been a bit remiss in writing so let me bring everyone up to speed. What really jogged me into start writing again was a note Sharon received from our friend from Finland who emailed us asking why nothing was happening. We met Susanne about 15 years ago while attending a Comdex computer convention in Atlanta. We were all standing around outside the motel looking for transportation to the convention when we struck up a conversation. A lasting friendship began that day that Sharon and I both treasure. If you notice the small world map on the left side of my blog, you'll notice a large red dot covering Finland. That's Susanne checking out our blog. Last year we had many 'dots' throughout Europe, many of which where as a result of her travels.

We've been in our RV about two months now and have been staying in South Haven, Michigan. It will be our second full summer at this park and it's turning into our favorite place to be. Cousins RV park is not one of the mega parks with swimming pools, hot tubs, tiki bars, or tennis courts. It's a well maintained park with about 85 sites, a nice restaurant and its owners Hal and Mary Cousins make every effort to make you feel at home. Their graciousness, in turn, draws great people back year after year. A wonderful mix of folks from Michigan, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio who enjoy the RV life and go out of their way to make you feel a part of this summer family.

Hal and Mary and a host of others all chip in to have regular parties that break the ice for newcomers and reacquaint park quests.

Actually there was other food to take pictures of but this is where I was planning to spend most of my time...

Just to let everyone know, the town of South Haven is located in the southwestern portion of Michigan on the eastern shore of Lake Michigan. If you could row your boat about 80 miles west, southwest... you could be in Chicago. The beautiful little harbor town is loaded with boats of all sizes, shops of every description and people who have little on there mind but to relax and have fun. The entrance to the harbor is alongside a long pier with one of Michigan's finest lighthouses at the end. A great place for a late afternoon stroll.

As summer is now upon us, the strawberry crop is ready to pick. Sharon and I visited a local farmed owned by a lovely older couple and bought a couple of quarts. The berries are plentiful this year and this beauty was extra special.

This all sounds sweet and wonderful but there is a downside to this little oasis in Michigan. Critters.... yes critters. Small and large and there is no getting away from them. This is apparently a good year for them. Let me explain....

I was out one recent evening to photograph one the the hallmark reason for living on this side of the state. Some of the most dramatic sunsets you'll ever see are here. Everyone is spectacular and each is different. I found a perfect spot not too far from camp and lugged my gear out into the field to capture the moment. So, here is how that turned out....

Okay ... that was fun I thought. I shot maybe a dozen images before the sun finally sunk below the horizon then lugged the gear back to the car and went back to the coach. I processed the images in Lightroom (another plug for Adobe's great product), picked out my favorite then off to bed.

Waking early the next morning I quietly got dressed, not wanting to wake Sharon as she's best not to be disturbed too early, if you know what I mean. Brewed up a pot of coffee, poured a cup and walked into the bathroom.

There on the floor was this critter that I instantly knew was trouble. It was edging its way across the floor in a very deliberate manner. Not fast but steady and heading to the bedroom where my bride was resting. I quickly sprung into action. Scooping the little bastard up with lightening speed and dropped him (or maybe her) onto a nearby counter top. I quickly got my camera and snapped a number of images before dispatching it with a heavy flashlight. Not an easy chore as several blows were required. So what was this ghastly critter you ask? Well take a look.

I placed the critter on a sheet of paper when I took its picture and as you can see it was quite formidable. Actually what quickly crossed by mind was is this a deer tick. You know the one that carry lime disease. After a bit of research on the net I discovered that this was not a deer tick but a dog tick. Locals later told me that when you're out in the woods you can expect that one (or more) will hop aboard your clothing so the mystery was finally solved as to what it was and how it got into the coach. I guess Sharon wasn't in as much danger as I thought but she still probably thinks I'm a hero (well maybe not).

The next encounter with wild things came just the other day when Hal (park owner) drove up in his golf cart with his BFF aboard. The little bandit was found up a tree by one of the other campers and Hal got a ladder up and rescued it. Now Hal would like you think he's a pretty rough and tumbled fella with ice cold blood in veins, nerves of steel and not an ounce of compassion but the little critter brought out the soft side of Hal. As the photo shows the two have bonded and will probably be in Hal's will before long.

So there we have it folks... another chapter in this ever-changing life we live. In weeks to come we'll be visiting local vineyards, attending some art festivals and maybe a jazz concert or two. So come along for the ride cause' we're still livin' the dream.

Ham Radio Retreat

I've been on the road recently (sans RV) to partake in the annual migration of ham radio aficionados to Dayton Ohio. For here is Hamvention. The Oscars, Academy Awards, and Grammies of the amateur radio hobby all rolled into one. Like lemmings to the sea, we fly, drive and waddle to the jumble of high tech toys and old tech junk scattered amongst four buildings and 10 acres of asphalt. Braving whatever weather shows up, we trudge through the open-air flea market looking at stuff most (no all) wives would quickly have in the trash yet we pause, fondle, negotiate, and scheme how these treasures will enhance our radio lives in some special way. We journey through the several buildings seeking out that unique new gadget that will transform us or our station into something better than we already are.
I had not been to the convention for about about five years so it was a way to re-ignite my old hobby. Friends Bill and George also made the trip so it was just like the old days.
Three days of shopping for radio stuff, would seem to most a general waste of time but to hams, Dayton is like no other place. And besides the radio stuff there is a town full of great restuaruants and the finest aircraft musuem in the world.
The thought of being able to sit in your house and talk with someone in the next state, in Europe, in Asia, in South America, almost anywhere without a cell phone or a plane ticket is still pretty neat. The challenges of building a basic radio station with a couple of hundred bucks or a mega station costing tens of thousands; the process is both exciting and rewarding. Literally something for everyone of all ages.
For those of us in the RV world, ham radio is yet another opportunity to stay connected with others as we travel and share our experiences. So if you're ever get into the hobby and hear me on the air, give me call back. My call is N8FPI. and 73's to all. (ham radio talk for "Best Regards")
Still livin the dream
Phil

Frank the Photographer

He was sitting alone watching the clothes dryer spin. A cane at his side, his arthritic hands folded in his lap.

The laundromat was almost empty this late afternoon as Sharon picked out the washers she wanted to use and I settled in to read a magazine. The old man got up from his seat and came over to the magazine rack near where I was sitting. His gait revealed a slight limp; on his head a crumpled Knights of Columbus ball cap. He looked through the magazines and turned and gave me a glance over. His sharp blue eyes peered over his glasses as he walked by but stopped momentarily and held up a teen magazine and said "not much to choose from". I agreed... but in my pause to find another subject to talk about, he said something about being an Army photographer and the pictures in the magazine he was holding. I didn't quite catch all of what he said but muttered back something just to be polite. About 80 years of age I guessed, standing with a slight stoop, propped up with his rather ornately carved cane. Since I was an old Army photographer myself, I thought we might have something in common.

"Name's Frank" he said. And for the next hour or so he spilled out most of his life's story to me. And quite a story it was. From his high school days at Taft High School in Chicago as a yearbook photographer to his enlistment in the Army two days after graduation. His photo assignments in Europe covering the Battle of the Bulge to the horrors of Auschwitz, and to his touching story of smuggling some unusual contraband out of Europe when he was reassigned to the States.

As he told his stories I was intrigued by his use of the word 'contraband' and before I could press him on the subject he volunteered the story. Apparently he and several members of his photographic unit had come across a young German boy whose family had been killed near where he was camped. They took the boy back to their camp made him into their 'tent boy'. Probably charged with cleaning up after the group, making beds and general 'go-fer' tasks, they provided shelter and a temporary home for the boy. The war in Europe was ending and the photo group was being disbanded and sent home. The group of four concocted a scheme to smuggle the boy in a duffel bag aboard the Navy ship that was taking them home. All went reasonably well in the beginning but when finally at sea the young lad was discovered by the ships personnel and the problem of what to do now with him came to the forefront.

As the story unfolded, Frank was obviously pretty proud of what he and buddies had done but now the reality of what was to happen to the boy became a serious question. They had been told prior to leaving port that if any contraband was later discovered it would be dumped at sea so don't bring any aboard. Not knowing what the boys fate would be, they made it known that one of Franks buddies would be willing to adopt the boy if possible.

Their journey home was to take them across the Atlantic, through the Panama Canal and then on to an undisclosed port on the west coast. Apparently along the way provisions were made, while at the Panama Canal, to proceed with the adoption and the boy and his soon to be parent, left the ship and proceeded home. I asked Frank what had become of the young boy and he said he settled in New York state with his new parents and now grown had his own family and children. Frank said it has been almost 20 years since he'd talked with him and thought it best to let him not be bothered by the past so has not corresponded with him since.

Frank got a surprise after leaving Panama as the ship headed directly for the Philippines rather than the planned west coast stop. WWII was still raging with Japan and photographers were still needed to record the effort. Stories unfolded of meeting up with a survivor of the Bataan death march and who later became a life-long friend and seeing the aftermath of the atomic blast at Nagasaki, painted a picture of someone who not only had seen a lot in his life but whose memories were still vivid and revealing.

After the war Frank set up a photo processing company in Chicago with a couple of his buddies handling all the photo work for Montgomery Wards department store. He later sold that business and moved to the South Haven area were he purchased a retail paint store. A life long bachelor he recounted one story of dating a widowed women some years ago who had several children and grand children. He reminisced that she would have been a good catch and that he could have had a ready made family but she it hadn't worked out.

Thinking about my short time with Frank clarified something that all of us really want and need in our later years. Someone to listen to our stories and tell of our life experiences (hence this blog) . It's sort of a validation process that what we've done in our lives is worth something. That maybe someone would want to do something or see things like you have. I continue to be rewarded by these little experiences while travelling and hope you enjoy the stories.

Still livin' the dream

Phil

Okay ... We can do this

Kicking back ... sleeping in ... who cares what time it is.. kind of life. Well not exactly, but close. Getting into the rhythm of no rhythm isn't as easy as it sounds but we're improving daily.
We visited a few of our old haunts; you know WalMart, several of the local bistros. the local Rite Aid. Must not made too great of an impression last year as no one remembered us. But then again we didn't remember them either. So it's kinda' like starting anew. Fresh and exciting all over again.

Speaking of fresh and exciting... my old college buddy Rick and co-champion at the euchre table from our college days, sent me a rather dated photo with the tantalizing caption "do you know this handsome guy"?

Could it be Errol Flynn maybe or that 007 Bond guy? Well of course I didn't know ...but then Sharon walked in and said "oh dear... you were so much thinner then and had hair". Oh my God I thought!. It all came back like a giant tsunami. Needing some sort of quick rebuttal I quickly noted that at least I didn't smoke any longer.

After careful inspection I do concede some resemblance. What do you think? I think the photo was taken around 1975 so the ravages of time have indeed taken a toll. However, in a somewhat lame defense, my mind is still semi-sharp and I still don't smoke but I am starting to drool some. And of course my eyes are still steely blue somewhere behind those bags.

We've been putzing around camp getting some flowers planted, some new solar lights, and trying to stifle the ant population. Pesky little buggers that find their way around the campsite with an occasional one discovering a secrete passage into the coach. A fatal mistake for all of them so far.

My good friend Bill stopped by the other day and brought me some RV supplies from Camping World. A couple of neat teak tables and a fitting for a sewer hose I'd asked him to pick up if he was in the area. A great help saving me a 100 mile round trip.

Today, this Mother's Day eve, we did a little shopping in Grand Rapids and returned in time to stop at the 'What Not Inn' just north of our camp. A homey little bar/grill that is always packed with an ever changing crowd of summer residents and vacationers. The food is good, not gourmet but better than most in the area. The atmosphere is easy and unpretentious. Tonight was live blues music. It was nirvana for me. Front row table, a nice steak, a tall glass of beer, foot thumping blues, and of course my vote for Mother of the Year... my bride Sharon.

So for all you Mothers out there, and mother wanna-bees ... have a great day! Most of us don't say it enough, nor show it enough but we really do appreciate all you do.

Still livin' the dream

Phil

Settling in ...

We made the 150 mile trip south to South Haven; our new summer hangout. Getting out of the casino in Manistee was long over due as a couple of days of getting financially beat up was enough. A great place to visit none-the-less and we'll return someday for another go at it.
Of course the trip was really about getting together with our old friends; something that we greatly treasure.
Along the way we thought we'd do a little bear hunting with our friends George and Paula. (Bet you didn't guess this did you) Now the season isn't quite open yet but when you need a bear... you need a bear. Not just any bear but one that stood about 5 foot at the shoulder and weighed about 300 pounds. We had seen such a critter a couple of days ago near the intersection of M10 and M31. Normally not a hot spot for bruin hunting but all of us saw that very bear not two days prior and thought we do the hunt anyway. I parked the coach several miles east and George transported us back to the hunting grounds in his 4x4. We slowly approach the site only to discover there were more of the critters than we had expected. Many little ones but only a few adults. Paula's keen eyes picked out the trophy of the group and the hunt began. I saw him immediately and he was quite a specimen. Strong, broad shoulders. Standing on his rear legs he was taller than expected easily looking me directly in the eye. His fur was a little coarse and unkempt but since this was a spring bear just emerging from hibernation, he didn't have the smooth coat of a fall bear. He was surprisingly quite and well mannered for such a beast. Standing quite still, and staring off into the distance... maybe wondering where his next meal will come from; his demeanor was majestic and he was obviously the 'big dog on the porch' around these parts. Paula was ready to take the beast but double checked with her guide and suddenly decided to wait for a more perfect specimen. The drama quickly subsided and we were driven back to the coach to continue our trip south. An exciting day to say the least.
You know hunting for a chainsaw carved bear statue can be gruelling work but when you're retired you seek out all the excitement you can.
Actually the bear statue is slated to guard in the entrance of the 'beer cave' at Geoff's (Paula and George's son) new party store in Battle Creek (Duffy's). A novel design feature that will help establish the stores identity.
Silliness aside... day was a very special one as it is Sharon's birthday. Forever young in heart and soul she is the crown jewel of the family. We all love her dearly and we're planning many more years of laughter and good times together.
We're almost completely settled at our summer site as of this evening but with just a few more odds and ends to complete tomorrow. It looks like a number of last year's group have already returned and we look forward to hearing of their winter journeys. The weather is perfect and all is good.
Still 'livin the dream'

Phil & Sharon

On the road again...

We're rolling now. First stop was a quick one just East of Traverse City Michigan at a lovely, and empty, parking lot at the Turtle Creek Casino and Resort. Free use of the parking lot for the coach was the chosen alternative to the $159/night rate at the adjoining hotel. Makes us feel good saving all that money. Of course our journey getting here was not without a bit of drama.
Seems we miscalculated the approaching storm as I had planned to hit the road just ahead of it and avoid driving in it. We left a little late and managed to stay in the midst of it the entire drive. Just to top off the last hour the low water light came on indicating something was amiss with the engine. Checking the temp gage proved the sensor was not quite accurate as the engine was a normal operating temperatures. However what really irritates is the blaring racket that accompanies the little red light on the dash. This obnoxious siren is in your face and ears and makes you want to jam your fist right through the dash and make it stop. I know it there for a purpose but couldn't they have a sexy voiced woman tell you your water is low and let it go at that?

Anyway we arrived shortly after our old friends Bill and June arrived in their classic GMC motorhome. It's always good to travel in pairs as you sometimes need someone to share your misery with. They too had not made the trip with some issues. Seems there was a small opening in one of the fender wells that allowed a path to flood the carpeted floor throughout their coach. Since carrying a wet/dry shop vac is something most don't normally pack, fans and mopping up with towels got most of the job done.

We ventured into the new casino later that evening for a short and very unrewarding experience. Nice place to visit but we're moving on to our next stop... Little River Casino and Resort. A stop we've made several times before and one we really enjoy. Not just because we've made a few bucks in the past here but because their RV park is first rate. Well maintained and their shuttle drops you off and picks you up right at your door. Not if that isn't lazy decadence I don't what is. Compared to Turtle Creek this place was booming with people. To be fair it's Thursday compared to Friday's crowd but I think in general Little River draws more people. Anyway we had a great early dinner at a restaurant on M55 just down the road and returned to try our hand at a little gambling. So so results with some of us winning... some of us losing. Didn't spend much time there but it was fun just the same. Saturday our other good friends, George and Paula will be joining us from Battle Creek but they gave up the RV life years ago and will have to rough it one of the hotel suites.

This 2009 season is starting off on a great note especially since we're with our good friends. We hope they can join us whenever their schedules permit. It really makes our travels all the more special. Thanks for joining us...we hope you enjoy the journey
Still .... "livin' the dream" Phil & Sharon

Really ... finally ... we're getting ready to hit the road

Without whining a lot, we've been deluged with distractions the past month or so and though I'm not quite ready to hit the road... we're very close.

Our coach has undergone several changes to help make this next journey a little more comfortable. We added a new LCD HDTV to the bedroom (actually doing that today), had the interior redecorated with new day/night shades and wallpaper. And I also had a rear ladder installed to facilitate the addition of a ham radio antenna (my call is N8FPI). So with a little help from our friends at American RV in Burton Michigan and Coughlin Decorating, also in Burton, we soon will begin our summer travels.

The first leg of the trip will be a 'casino run'. A chance to visit several of this states gaming houses and pit our skill against the best one armed bandits in the land. Michigan and its plethora of Indian tribes, have created the 'perfect storm' of adult entertainment. All the pieces fall together nicely...your Social Security or pension check arrives, all the TV shows are reruns, you've got more than a half a tank of gas in the car... you're bored and need a little excitement and who knows... maybe it will be the day your ship finally comes in.

Anyway we've convinced ourselves, and maybe a few of our friends, that this would be a great way to start off this years travels. So stay with us and follow our journey...

First stop will be the Soaring Eagle Casino and Resort, Mt. Pleasant Michigan. We should be arriving around April 29th for a night of frivolity and low-stakes gambling. And to top off the excitement we'll be dry camping for the first time in quite a while. To the non-campers in the audience that means we will not have outside sources of electricity or sewer hookups. We are on our own and at the mercy of the mechanical beast we're calling our home. Hopefully Murphy will stay home.

Still livin' the dream...

Phil & Sharon

Getting ready

The sun will be bright and the temperatures are expected to be in the 50's tomorrow so I'm officially opening our 2009 RV season. After a long winter (it's not really over) I'm taking the first warm day to make the trip over to see the coach. Still parked in a county horse barn some 20 miles away it's well protected. As usual we've kept it in a dry, out of the elements environment which we're sure has kept it from aging. With any kind of luck I can start it up and listen to its rumble as I dream about hitting the road the first of May. Our remodel of the house is almost complete (thankfully) so leaving will be easy. And we will remember to shut off the water lines this time so as not to have another catastrophe.

I wish I were leaving soon but we're really not going anywhere right now as we Michiganders know winter will soon return and the thought of driving the coach through snow and ice seems like cruel and unusual punishment. But it's great therapy to hear it run, watch the gages spring to life, smell that sweet diesel exhaust and sit back and think about where we've been and where we are going.

Actually I do have a little housekeeping to do as I want to take down all the day/night shades and see if I can re-string and clean them. Three of the five broke last year and need to be repaired before we head out again. I also need to figure out how to install a new LCD TV in the bedroom. Should be a challenge as the custom cherry woodwork was designed to fit the old Sony and not the newer ones. I'll also be installing a new digital to analog converter to capture those HD TV signals we will get through our batwing antenna on the roof whenever the satellite system fails to find a signal. Anyway it will be fun to get reunited with the coach after a long winter.

Our travel this summer will be short and sweet. We've booked the entire summer in South Haven Michigan (like last summer) and if we venture out we'll at least have a spot to come back to. It only about a three hour drive from home so if need be we can buzz back. We will have the site from May to mid-October. Beyond that is only a guess but staying in Michigan another winter is something we want to avoid.

So another chapter of our travelling lives is about to unfold and we're looking forward to sharing it with you. Over the past year or so we have had over 1800 visitors to the site from almost every continent around the globe. It's been great fun to hear from some of you and we encourage you to drop us a line when you feel the urge.

Still livin' the dream and looking forward to seeing what's around the next corner.