Born on a mixed subsistence farm in rural Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, Canada. Moved to Ontario in 1967 to attend University at what was then Waterloo Lutheran University and moved to Oakville, Ontario in 1971. Without intending to live up to the name became a letter carrier the following January and have worked for Canada Post ever since. I retired in August of 2008.

Saturday, November 22, 2008

Heading for Points West

After leaving the Everglades I stopped in an emphatically black hood for gas and lived to talk about it. From Florida City drove up and took Hwy 41 West and 27 North to Lake Wales. Found a campground and parked for the night. Monday was devoted to visiting Bok Sanctuary with its gardens and bell tower. The carillonneur proved to be on vacation and I could not be persuaded that a recording could do justice to the sound of the ringing of a 12 ton bell. The orange groves on the way in looked tempting. The gardens were well cared for but it was off season for flowering plants. I did enjoy taking pictures anyway.

After my visit to the gardens left with 3 recordings of the bells including the only Christmas CD I'm going to have this year. Until it reaches the coastal cities Hwy 60 crosses the Florida Peninsula almost as straight as a dart with the only change being the occasional passing lane and intersecting highway. I drove back to Vero Beach and spent the night with my friends there—or at least in their home—they had to go out for the evening.

Tuesday I left early for Hobe Sound to see what the RV Centre there could do about my non-functioning heat pump. It took a 100 mile detour and half a day to determine that at some point before I acquired my RV some idiot left a sanding disk in my heat pump and it was blocking the circulation fan. I have yet another reason to be displeased with my dealer. The drive back along US-1 was congested and I was glad when I finally regained I-95 and when I reached Hwy 60 decided to return to Lake Wales RV Park before proceeding further. Spent the rest of the day catching up online and discovered that another cold snap was not only on the way but would plunge the area of Florida into which I intended to head well below freezing. Decided to hole up for another day and spent it doing 'housework' and catching up on some of my E-mail and magazines.

Set off at 7:00 AM Thursday morning and headed up Hwy 27, the Florida Turnpike, and I-75 to I-10. Interstate 10, it seems crosses the Southern US. On my first day I made it as far as Tallahassee. There I found the Tallahassee RV Park on Hwy 90 next to a Shell Gas Station and a Publix grocery store which was within walking distance. I was satisfied to stretch out and check my E-mail. On the way in I witnessed Florida State Prisoners out cleaning garbage along the highway.

On Friday I checked out Publix again went next door to fill up my tank. There I discovered the annoying phenomena of having to prepurchase my gas when what I wanted was the chance to fill my tank. How am I supposed to know how much fuel at $1.99 an American Gallon my vehicle is going to hold? As it was I came very close forcing the last dollar's worth into the tank. This day was marked by an a gusting crosswind that made driving unpleasant and visiting the frequent rest stops feel a necessity. The road seemed to climb steadily and for the first time in memory there were no signs indicating elevation above sea level. I lost track of just how many Florida Counties I passed through. Finally I reached the Alabama Border and stopped at the visitor's centre where a bored attendant passed me a map and various tourist booklets. The drive into Mobile was tense with traffic getting heavier and heavier—thank goodness I missed rush hour. The bridge crossing Mobile Bay which leads into the city stretches for miles and would be pleasant viewing if I hadn't been fighting the wind to keep my lane and watching the exits and lane changes to ensure I didn't get lost. It culminates in a tunnel before one enters downtown. As I approached my intended campground a cloud of dust and smoke from some local industry clouded the sky and the highway until just before I reached my site. Live Oaks do have acorns! The swimming pool at I-10 Campground looks neglected and rimed with green algae and the only internet is a dial-up central connection but the price was right. The electrical hook-up works if the water has a funky taste. Luckily I don't need any water.

I'm on a quest to reach Austin Texas by early next week. The Florida Panhandle seems to stretch on forever and leaves only a small snippet of coastal area for Alabama, indeed a mere 68 miles. There are only 77 miles of Mississippi that I-10 crosses and about 155 miles of Louisiana. Nothing about Texas, of course is small.

This morning I got off early not having E-mail to check to slow me down. Got to Mississippi before the visitor's centre opened and crossed into Louisiana to find there's closed for reconstruction. At a little place called Mandeville visited the local travel centre and learned that instead of counties Louisiana has parishes as we've heard in discussions of flooding in New Orleans because it's a holdover from Napoleonic times. The Country Kitchen Restaurant they recommended for brunch was in the middle of a major road re-construction project, service was glacial and I used a napkin to clean my own table and scrounged a menu from a nearby table, the waitress came within inches of scalding me with coffee and the three egg omelette must have been made with robin eggs. Serves me right for not making my own breakfast! Have I been on the road too long!

LSU are playing Old Miss today in Baton Rouge but I made it through downtown despite that. When the gal at the Cajan Country Campground dragged her low-rider jeans, lip ring and black eye-liner back into the campground office she promptly took two personal calls before deigning to even look at me. She then informed me the campground's water was off and that they had no internet and wanted cash. This and the look I'd had before she slouched back into the office persuaded me I really wasn't ready to stop for the day. I drove on to a KOA in Lafayette. It was only 50 or so miles away but most of the journey took place on a bridge crossing a major swamp with a member of the sheriff's department picking off speeders along the way.

For the record KOA Lafayette is a place I'd recommend. Bring your fishing pole for the large stocked pond, coffee ready at 7:00 AM and pleasant people who even collect your garbage.

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