Kentucky Bluegrass and beyond

First step was getting out of Nashville. The gas stations near Music Valley and the highway were clip joints. Worse yet the one I opted for pumped gas slower than molasses running up hill in the wintertime--or was that sorghum? The stretch from Nashville to Park City, Kentucky was heavy with truck traffic. On the advice of the good ole boy at the Kentucky Visitor’s Centre I stopped in Franklin to fill up my tank at $2.09. As warned the price rose to $2.39 as I drove North. I did not take his advice on visiting Maker’s Bourbon Distillery. Kentucky makes 90% of the world’s sour mash whiskey.

Wherever my GPS thought it was taking me it didn’t seem to know where Mammoth Cave was at so I took my own head for it and headed North on paved country roads until I got to a sign that directed the way. The park is approximately 7 square miles with little apparent development above ground. The Headquarters Area features a Visitors Centre, Campground, Park Store with pay showers and post office, and a Hotel. Below ground are over 400 miles of interconnected caves and counting. Although the area was formerly extensively farmed the Civilian Conservation Corps--CCC Boys planted trees which today cover much of the landscape with towering hardwoods. They also cleared underground passages, and built stairs, railings, pathways above ground and below along with buildings and shelters. The campground provides a paved parking space, finding a level one being no small feat, concrete picnic table, fire pit, and lantern stand. The water here filtered by limestone is gloriously soft, the bathroom has hand soap, water, and blow dryer, even lights. The Visitors Centre provides Wi-Fi though a turtle moves faster.

The visitors centre has an information desk and Kentucky Tourism stand. A regimented sales area for underground tours complete with overhead display seems more like an airport desk than a park. All tours leave from the visitor’s centre, remote tours by school bus transport. The requisite book store is separate from the section selling clothing and memorabilia. The ‘museum’ is a maze lined with rock and has a small theatre with movie telling the history of cave exploration and mapping today assisted by laser. Outside is a walkway leading to the Hotel, several shelters for tours to wait protected from sun or rain, and a walkway leading down to the “Historic Entrance” and on to an above ground walk through a ravine.

I should have known better than to opt for a caving tour involving 120 people. The squalling baby and people who just wouldn’t shut up were just the capper. Mammoth cave may be the longest cave system in the world but the 2-mile section we hiked on the Historic Tour was rather featureless. The info imparted in the four talks was already available in the Guide Book. The caves are a uniform 54º F and humidity 80%. The lighting is quite low, our guides used flashlights, the pathways uneven, and the ceiling frequently low. So-called fat man’s misery wasn’t all that narrow. The 385 steps were all too real, the bottomless pit 150 ft. Coming out into 80º heat sent me looking for water--two large glasses after the water fountain. The Historic Tour Route has seen a lot of traffic over the years and was even mined for saltpetre.

Getting out of Kentucky proved a bit of a challenge. To put a cynic’s view on matters someone voted for the right party. A majority of my route to Cincinnati was under construction, add heavy truck traffic and not a pleasant drive capped by a 5-mile traffic jam in Cincinnati caused by a broken down tractor trailer. Stopped once more at a busy Krogers and discovered first hand the ethnic diversity of at least that part of town. The majority of shoppers and store staff were African American. Found what I needed and was treated with respect by all. Learned that although the sky turned black while I was driving I missed a humdinger of an electrical storm. When I reached Winton Woods Campground water and broken branches lay everywhere.

This is my second visit to Winton Woods Park. I have fond memories of my last visit having spent time exploring what is a large suburban county park outside the campground itself. The gal who signed me in seemed new to the job and lacked knowledge of her park and also sympathy for a customer who had just spent 3 hours fighting traffic to get to her counter. I did eventually get signed in and then bought an ice cream cone. With allergies to chocolate and nuts my options were limited and the double scoop of lemon sorbet I received was over soft and around too long. It melted so fast my beard seemed to get more than I did.

The site I had selected was surrounded by standing water but was at least level. Wi-Fi Service is provided by Tengo, a service I’ve had issues with in the past. Here it provides free service and does not appear to indulge in internet squelching but it requires an extra browser-based log on and cuts out at unpredictable moments. At times it doesn’t seem to want to let one in and as usual makes getting online nearly impossible in early evening. Important to me this because I’ve spent three days with recurrent thunderstorms and heavy rain so I haven’t been out much. One crack of lightening seemed right on top of me, despite tornado watches no funnel clouds here. Hearing about the flooding, downed trees, and power wires elsewhere in Cincinnati does not make me feel any better.

Dumped my tanks and filled my smaller fresh water tank upon entering the park. My site backs onto the lake but until today, Saturday, I have not braved the standing water in the grass to approach it. At least I’m fairly isolated from the bulk of camp activity, this being the weekend the place has filled up with families and children. Today I have made sweet and sour salad and I’m about to put together Chili con Carne having just fried the meat, I’m about to assemble the chopped ingredients and spices in my crockpot. Does campground life sound prosaic?

Nashville

Entering Nashville from the Northern Terminus of the Natchez Trace is not a comforting experience. I did not stop at the Loveless Café Complex or Andrew Jackson’s mansion, the Hermitage. The number of traffic lights and interchanges to be negotiated is intimidating. The fact that I’d asked my GPS to stay off Expressways on the Trace may have been a factor in my trip through downtown.

Arriving on Music Valley Dr in the middle of a thunderstorm did not help matters and discovering my favourite KOA might not have room for me and could not offer me Wi-Fi was a definite turn-off. Fortunately Two Rivers next door did have room and their Wi-Fi has worked fine. The heavy weather persisted for the next 36 hours culminating in a tornado watch. Luckily the worst we experienced here was horizontal rain, gusting winds, heavy rain, and a touch of hale. To put a positive spin on matters I got my RV scrubbed clean for free and the Campground couldn’t complain about it. Catching up online kept me busy. With all the windows closed I was thankful for A/C.

Saturday dawned clear and cooler. I did not get up early to watch the moon eclipse. When I did get active walked over to KOA to talk to the Grayline Rep about a ticket to see the Grand Ole Opry that night. Stopped at Camping World to look at LED Lighting. The item I selected was not in their system and a comedy of errors ensued. I am not particularly impressed with Camping World.

Without an appearance by Minnie Pearl, faked or otherwise I did not feel properly welcomed to the Opry but someone else appeared to flog the $15 programs. An hour is a long time to sit and wait for a show but riding with Pat on Graylines is part of the fun. The stage crew are the Opry’s true stars and anyone strong enough to hand-hold a TV Camera steady gets my vote, the guy on our side was tall and thin. His maneuvers made my knees ache. The majority of the acts Saturday Night were up and comers. What do they feed those tall skinny guys to give them those deep basso profundo voices. Some of them did almost everything but break dance on stage. The Opry’s male dancers looked old enough to need walkers once they got off-stage. The sound was full without being over-loud and the screens front of house and backstage gave close-ups of the artists. The ads seemed less intrusive and more subtle than in past years--or am I getting inured to them.

I did not see frost Sunday Morning but a clear sky and a cold front dropped the temperature to near freezing. By noon my home was toasty but by evening the cloud-cover had returned. Perhaps I should have attempted to make it to church but sleeping in or at least remaining in bed until noon felt soooo good!

Day Three and Onward

Last night my inverter shut down due to RV battery depletion which led to my laptop crashing. After morning of rain decided to pull into Timberland Reservoir Park north of Jackson Mississippi and recharge. Did some battery maintenance after it stopped raining. Spent a quiet night but got coated in tar from a tree. The site picked for Internet access. $23/night.

On the way in stopped at Kroger Groceries for a few supplies including their coffee which is still the best ground coffee I’ve ever found. Spent the afternoon catching up online.

Day Four

Stopped at Kangeroo Gas to fill up at $2.10 on my way out. Took my time getting on the road but left when the internet failed? Why me? Also visited the Mississippi Craft Centre when my GPS took me there instead of to the gas station. Since the Trace is hard to miss decided to use the gadget only to track my speed. Out front was a turkey sculpture with wine bottles defining its tail and a 3-foot ant.

The drive today was distinguished only by the heat and some frustrating construction. No blocks to traffic on the trace otherwise. Found a campsite at Thomas Jefferson Busby Campground that required extensive leveling, then settled in to read my Trace Guidebook. Went for a walk and had supper. Two trucks with trailer homes pulled in behind me on my loop. One couple from Calabogie Ontario, the other from Sharbot Lake. Spent the evening reading Boyden’s The Orenda.

Prominent along the road today were Redbuds and Dogwoods almost over in Natchez. Noted that the only radio available around Jackson was Legends 102 Country unless you can stomach Gospel or Talk. “Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On”. Later Kicks 96.

Day Five

Today I drove North of Spring 200 miles to Merriwether Lewis Campground--named for the place where the Lewis and Clark explorer died in mysterious circumstances and is buried. Checked 7 campsites before finding one close to level.

This morning had to put away four leveling blocks before I pulled out at 7:00 AM. Stopped up the road to run my generator and make coffee and toast.

For breaks stopped at the infocentre at the Trace Main Office near Tupelo and after passing through Alabama into Tennessee at the Collinwood Welcome Centre. The latter I’d visited in 2011 on my way through still manned by a good old boy who today demonstrated his dulcimer while I admired the quilts on display while drinking a free coffee. This time round no second good old boy using one of the rockers. The place produces kiln-dried oak. A corn cob sheller on display.

Just after I passed through in 2011 a tornado touched down and followed the Trace for 10 miles somewhat south of Tupelo. The devastation is still palpable. Snow followed by an ice storm caused many windfalls along the Trace which staff will spend months cleaning up. First priority getting the wood off the roadway.

This Parkway was finally completed in 2005 after Busby saw to its start in 1936. An impressive amount of fill was used to raise the road above the surrounding swamps and farmland and to level out the many dips in the gently rolling landscape. The look-off last night was at the highest point in Mississippi, just over 600 ft.

Running my generator to charge my batteries and recharge my tablet. Tomorrow’s hop to Nashville is only 83 miles. I should get in in time to find a campsite. No hurry to head north to that cold! Time now for a walk.

The silence of a primitive campground is awing. I was brought up short in the middle of the night when I decided to make tea and had to remind myself that my electric kettle wasn’t going to work!

Day Six off the Trace

Drove up to the first pull-out to run my generator and make coffee beside a tiny waterfall down a steep embankment with picnic table and garbage can beside it. I didn’t assay the steep grade. Reaching milepost 400 meant 44 miles of the Trace remaining.

After seeing no traffic control signs or signals for 450 miles downtown Nashville with its aggressive pedestrians and drivers and uncoordinated lights is traumatizing. I arrived at KOA to find no room at the Inn and their internet down with a thunderstorm brewing. Two Rivers Campground just up the street is cramped but any port in a storm.

Heading out in 2015: Day Two

Most things in my RV are working fine this Sunday Morning save for its owner. There’s a yellow warbler bubbling outside and a Field Sparrow giving his bouncing call. Finally got myself organized around 9 and drove up to Newton to get gasoline--$2.26.9 there at both stations. The pump worked once the attendant woke up. Seems like there was light rain overnight or a heavy dew. Early morning fog burned off and the sun came out. The route headed North from town before turning East into Louisiana. Louisiana secondary roads seemed narrow after the Interstates I’ve been traveling. Aside from the heat today’s drive just seemed long. I listened to more CBC Movie Review Podcasts with Eli Glasner and Grammar Girl. Passed a family out for a ride in a horse and wagon and snickered at the thought of anyone going to Hicks High School. Somehow I was surprised when I finally arrived at Vidalia and crossed the Mississippi into Natchez. Stopped at the tourist bureau Tourist Reception Centre to be exact. Early season help didn’t seem very well informed.

Had some trouble finding the start of the Natchez Trace which seems to have been reconfigured since I last drove it and my GPS was programmed. The Soil around here is a brilliant orange, it almost glows, and the Trace pavement reflects that colouration. The gal at the information centre informed me that she couldn’t sell me the Trace Guide because the power was out. After I expressed polite frustration she sold me her personal copy! Speed limit on the trace is 50 mph which seems to me to be an increase. Fifty-five miles on found a drive-through campsite at Rocky Springs Campground and turned on my generator to heat my coffee.

Starting North: 2015

Starting out it never seems possible but the mileage on my rig says I have and I can. Got everything into the RV and unplugged my landline at 6:00 AM before setting off. Stayed on the 290 Frontage Road until the Toll Road ran out. When sunrise began blinding me stopped at Denny’s in Hempstead for breakfast. Change of shift and the staff all behaved like zombies--were they hungover from a party the night before? The washroom was in an appalling state. Mind you when my food order finally arrived it was as ordered and properly prepared. The Bold Coffee was brewed after I ordered it but the cream seemingly was still in the cow. Read my comix as I waited as the Wi-Fi worked and my password seemed to be good from previous uses.

Surprise 290 becomes Toll Road 99 north of Houston. Built since my GPS or my Microsoft Map. Was on it before I even realized and discovered there are no toll booths. With no idea how else to get there stayed with it. The Belt Way around Houston is another toll road--curse you Toll Road Perry!

Highway 69 was quiet though one could wish they’d select a speed and stick with it. It varied from 30 in small towns all the way up to 75 in places. I saw gas priced as low as $2.05 and as high as $2.35. I’ll have to fill up tomorrow morning on my way out before I cross into Louisiana. Should have done it on my way in but you know how it is.

Quiet night at Whispering Creek. Slow start Sunday Morning. My coffeemaker still makes fantastic Joe.

Evangelical ?

The ‘E’ in ELCA is said to stand for Evangelical. We seem to be more intent on maintaining the status quo than spreading the Gospel. Were we truly evangelical church attendance should be growing rather than shrinking as it has been across all denominations. We seem remiss in our practice of spreading the Gospel to every creature. When my group studied Word and Witness we skipped over the Witness sections of the study guide.

Nowhere is this phenomenon more apparent than in the retention rate of our own offspring as members of our congregations. Each year we ‘confirm’ the fact that our youth have suffered through 3 years of classes and then we rarely see the majority of them again until they are prompted by parents to have a church wedding to legitimize co-habitation. Next appearance occurs when the grandparents present the babies for baptism to get them ‘done’.

Faith is a gift of the Holy Spirit. Is engendering it in future generations a matter of nature or nurture? Whether or not church attendance and support is a mark of religious conviction and what the church should be doing to make worship relevant to future generations are meat for other discussions. Without sufficient bums in the pews churches cannot continue to survive.

Heading South in 2014

The trip began in the early hours of Sunday October 26. It began with a detour to the bank to deposit an unexpected cheque. As it turned out I made this run south just ahead of some rather wintry weather. I groaned at being hit by a gusting North wind as I walked across the lot to my motorhome. The young male customs officer was polite and efficient sending me on my way with a minimum of bother. Pennsylvania Welcome Centre was open and manned when I got there, Ohio’s was open but no one present to give the welcome.

When travelling from state to state or province to province there’s an art to understanding how far after the signpost to look for the turnoff you need to make. When highway speeds are high sometimes they don’t leave enough space to slow down in time. After missing it the first time I eventually found Cross Creek Campground in the middle of nowhere. No overnight frost this time round.

Made my way through Columbus, Ohio and Indianapolis for the 250 mile hop to Terre Haute. Wouldn’t you know a southerly cross wind to match yesterday’s northerly. The quiet parklike KOA there gave me warm welcome in all senses. A cicada buzzed in the trees above my head as darkness fell and the pet donkeys brayed.

Awoke to thunder, lightening and rain. After gassing up contended with ill-lit poorly marked wet streets and highways with worn out markings. I don’t like driving on wet pavement in the dark particularly when the road is not marked. The day didn’t so much dawn as the darkness lessened and the world slowly became apparent. The Dennys west of Chicago remains the only outlet to provide decent coffee. The one I stopped at this day was busy but the Wi-Fi worked. Gas prices remained high in the North.

Allow me to inveigh against idiots who leave highway construction signs up after the construction is finished or when they go home for the night or weekend. I think there should be hefty fines levied against the perpetrators. After the tenth or so such abuse no one takes them seriously. The owners of Tulsa Warrior Campground have been running it too long. I was somewhat peeved after making a supreme effort to arrive during office hours to discover they’d gone home early. At least they leave behind the code for Wi-Fi which I eventually got to work. The place has a rather casual business sense, their residential campers being their principal income. Driving 560 miles in one day may have used up my tolerance. After discovering there’d be no place to park gave up on playing tourist in Tulsa, I needed the rest anyway.

Since my acquaintances in Lubbock couldn’t be bothered to return my attempts at contact gave up on making that detour and drove down to Lewisville just north of Dallas Texas. I-35 is a horror of road construction, dust, and heavy traffic from one end to the other the section through Dallas and south to Austin being bad whatever time of day you travel. All it takes is one collision caused by drivers following too close to back it up for hours and attempting to leave sufficient breaking distance seems to require some moron to occupy it. Detest lane hoppers.

Stopped at the Texas Visitor’s Centre which was open and manned though under construction. I was not attracted to the monument to a youngish vet with rifle in hand outside. Such centres are rarely at the border in Texas. When my GPS informed me I’d reached the exit for Lewisville Lake Campground the construction signs informed me it was closed, permanently. Abandon GPS and use horse sense.

Camping at Lewisville Park is still $8/night for seniors though the list of 20 fineable offences in the handout tends to make one feel unwelcome. In spite of threatening clouds went for a walk. The improvised benches around the lake are a considerable distance from the water these days. The “no fishing” sign at the boat launch is at odds with Texas Best Bass Lake sign elsewhere. Interrupted a session of advanced petting on a rather public picnic table.

Next morning waited out rush hour traffic as a locked gate precludes an early start. To no avail due to a collision blocking 2 of 3 lanes. Didn’t make Austin until 1:30 PM. Driving anywhere in Austin is a pain.

Public Safety and Taxes

Written in response to a questionnaire sent at public expense by a Conservative Government Member:

I still dislike polls and questionnaires because I find them formulated to elicit the response the designer wished to obtain.

Of course I want safer streets but we may differ in our opinion as to the means of obtaining that end. Have you read Jane Jacobs? Our streets remain safe because neighbours use them: Children walk to school, their mothers wheel them to playgrounds, walk to the store, in cities couples walk to work, social events, theatre and use mass transit. In American cities and states where this has ceased to be so it is an offense to allow your child to walk to soccer practice. Children who are taxied everywhere grow up unable to navigate their own neighbourhoods. Parents cause unsafe traffic around school grounds not designed for the volumes that have developed and their children become overweight through lack of exercise. Our massed media are guilty of concentrating on violence and crime at a time when the demographic who commit such offences is at an all-time low along with the crime rate itself. This coverage has created a sense of apprehension that has lead police services to demand ever bigger budgets and politicians such as yourself to pass legislation that invades privacy and civil liberties in the name of protecting us from them.

Who wouldn’t want lower taxes. But remember the state of California where citizens were given that option and the state approached bankruptcy. Alas our politicians set a poor example with the likes of entitled examples such as Bev Oda and Mike Duffy, gold-plated pension plans, and patronage. Canada’s most profitable companies pay no taxes and their owners employ tax accountants to find means such as family trusts to avoid paying taxes. Their donations to political parties are directly deductible from tax paid. Someone miscalculated and tried to build a power station in these donor’s back yards. Most sensible businessmen disagree with the idea of government handouts to corporations but if their competition is capitalizing on one they have no option but to buy in as well. Remember ‘corporate welfare bums’. Meanwhile have you read the auditor general’s report lately. Do we really want to emulate the American model where the rich live in protected gated communities and send their children to private schools while public services shrink, schools deteriorate, and ordinary citizens cope with the likes of Detroit or St. Louis or entire subdivisions taken over by gangs as in Southern California?

To answer your questions I don’t believe your government’s policies are going to attain either ends.

Thoughts on the Civil War

As I travel the American South it becomes more and more apparent to me that to many the war occurred yesterday. In one fell swoop an agrarian way of life, a genteel culture, and an indolent upper class were Gone With the Wind. As the war dragged on it became apparent that the armament industry and the minerals that fed it were all located in the North and Naval Blockades prevented smuggling. What resources existed lacked efficient rail transport because the much-vaunted states rights guaranteed that every state operated on an incompatible gauge. Resistance to central command didn’t help but as the war of attrition continued the South ran out of lambs to send to the slaughter and an entire generation of their brightest and best were wiped out. Even without emancipation and the war the hand-writing was on the wall. Slave labour may have been free but it was inefficient compared to the mechanization of the Industrial Revolution and the Factory Farm. Even today Labour Laws in many Southern States would make Dickens cringe all over again. Unless you work in a White Union Shop you are not guaranteed a minimum wage, workers compensation, regular work hours, a five day week, overtime, or even payment of your wages. Breaks and drinking water in high heat conditions are not guaranteed. In most cases slaves were better treated. With the assassination of Lincoln a punitive reconstruction and system of reparations the likes of which led directly to WW#2 in Europe were instituted one manifestation of which were the despised carpet baggers.

Heading East in 2014

The tale begins with a trip to Kitchener, Ontario to get my sewer hose replaced. As I’ve written many times before I would need at least 5 lifetimes to understand dealerships. Seems I have to remind them to order the parts needed for the work I need done. They did replace my sewer line.

The trip began in earnest at 3:30 AM Tuesday June eleventh in the rain. I’d filled my gas tank the day before so I headed east on the 401 through the construction hazards that litter the top of Toronto.

Stopped in Napanee for breakfast at Dennys and visited an En Route somewhat later. Refilled my gas tank in Morrisburg just before crossing into Quebec where I stopped to pick up bumph at the Welcome Centre. Paid the $3.00 toll to cross the Saint Lawrence on the new bridge and took the newly finished HWY 30 south of Montreal to Camping Aloutte. Passing through the countryside the bucolic odour of newly spread manure permeated the air. Note to self, don’t waste good money on crummy internet service again. Had supper and went to bed.

The rain continued off and on as I drove the pot-holed roads of the Eastern Townships of Quebec. Quite a bit of truck traffic near Quebec City but it tailed off as I drove down the Saint Lawrence. It was the construction I hit just before Rivière-Du-Loup that was the coup de grace. Stopped in town for a feed of St Hubert’s Chicken and a fuel up before driving across the new finally completed bridge to Rue de L’Ancrage and Camping Du Quai. It’s pleasant to receive a warm welcome from my host if not the weatherman. After driving 650 miles in two days it was time for a rest. The weather finally cleared on Sunday making the walk out to the point a pleasant one.

Monday morning dropped by IGA Extra for a few groceries before striking out for Kouchibouguac National Park in New Brunswick. All but the last stretch of HWY 85 in PQ is complete but that last stretch is a doozy. Drove the temporary dirt road to visit the NB Welcome Centre which was actually open this time. Followed only a brief stretch of HWY 2 in NB before turning at Grand Falls for the drive through New Denmark and Paster Rock Game Reserve. The road through the reserve was pot-holed with broken shoulders a frequent occurrence. Fortunately I met only 15 vehicles in 200 miles. Once I reached HWY 11 South hit first a traffic light and then a train at the level crossing. Didn’t take long for 20 vehicles to get backed up.

Made the park just before the camping kiosk closed. Paid a brief visit to the Interpretive Centre before registering for my site. No probs there as the park was nearly empty. A walk over to the park store found a very bored looking clerk who sits and reads a Quebecois Romance Novel from 8 to 8. Little else open. The park is broadcasting a very strong Wi-Fi Signal but was not hooked up to any ISP, frustrating. In plentiful supply were millions of mosquitoes. Loads of rain, swamps, marshes and standing water make for ideal habitat. Keeping them out of my home proved impossible. What do you do when it rains all day? Read. When it finally stopped went for a walk on the nature trail and donated blood to the winged critters. I heard a ruffed grouse drumming and heard about deer and coyotes wandering the park. A fox walked by my RV and a groundhog resides under a nearby outbuilding. Rode over one morning to see the concession stand and walked out to watch the wet-suit-clad lifeguards in training. The 50º F water did not deter the children. Next day rode the trail system down to the interpretive centre, toured the displays and watched the introductory movie. One hundred and sixty-five families had their homes and livelihoods expropriated and destroyed to create the park. The gal at the desk and the one in the gift shop were both from displaced families.

Friday Morning, June 20 Set out for Nova Scotia. I had enough gas to make it to Sackville where I filled up before crossing into NS where it’s more expensive. Visited the NB Info Centre as well. Crossed into a drizzly NS and met the piper inside the NS Welcome Centre. No Halifax Chronicles on offer there. Got the info I needed and struck out for Masstown paying the Tollway fare on the way. Maple Syrup was in good supply as was honey. Picked up a loaf of raisin bread and fresh strawberries. Drove past the road to the Joudreys in HFX County before turning unto 101 for Falmouth. There I found an extension cord awaiting my hookup. Amy and Greg made it home later with his two daughters in tow, 18 and 15, the younger one has grown considerably in the last year. Saturday morning early a load of rock dust arrived which was wheeled into the pool enclosure where an above ground pool is to be installed. The day was spent dumping and later compacting the fill. Sunday was quiet and chore-filled though quiet was necessary as Greg took an overnight shift. Oscar and Jimmy, the dachshunds exercised my ears. I caught up on E-mail and cartoons after 6 days.

Monday Morning June 22 drove across HWY 14 in NS to 103 and thence to Lunenburg where I found an empty campground. After obtaining my site drove up and spent the day with my 96-year-old Aunt Muriel. Gossip, gossip, gossip. Tuesday drove up to Midville and stopped in to visit with my cousin Charles Smith and catch up on Midville Branch. Next visited the graveyard and walked up to find Milton Williams out. Learned the neighbour beside the cemetery is in hospital in HFX. Found Dan and Fred Gilbert home at the old Mailman place. Little is recognizable. The wood ticks are rampant. After giving a tour of my domain sat and had coffee and chat with Fred. Drove out past the old homestead on the Smith Rd and finding no place to stop drove through Cookville and back to Lunenburg. Walked out to the Top Knot for the recommended bacon-wrapped scallops with fries and a Propeller Bitter. A father and his two late teen sons sat beside me. Walked back along Bluenose Lane noting the forlorn vessel moored beside the fisheries Museum. Lacked the cash to get an ice cream so I walked over and picked up Pear Eau de Vie at Ironworks and raisin bread and sauerkraut at Foodland, no turnipkraut on offer. Settled in for the evening as the fog rolled in off the back harbour and the fog horn sounded.

Drove up to Halifax Wednesday Morning avoiding the Hammond’s Plain Road which read closed in any case due to construction. Made my sister’s just in time for Lunch. Got hooked up and got caught up online. Richard was working. On the only day it rained while I was there we drove out to the valley to visit the Annapolis Historical Gardens. It rained in torrents throughout our visit though the park offered good umbrellas on loan. I didn’t risk my camera in the wet. The days melted into one another. Richard did a second job Saturday Morning and in the evening we walked down for Strawberry Social at the United Church. Marguerite stayed to help with Cleanup. Seems they made $1306 on the day charging $12 each for ham, potato salad, and strawberry shortcake, coffee. Looked through Richard’s DVD collection and watched Leo a depressing unwanted child tale I’d not heard of before and Aurora Borealis with Donald Sutherland and Joshua Jackson. Albuquerque, one of four oaters proved predictable and standard western fare. After church Sunday we drove into Dartmouth for a feed of Clams and Chips. Fisherman’s Cove was crawling with traffic so we drove back home. On Tuesday visited Bedford having no luck finding a lighting fixture for my van. Did get Richard Wolf Hall at Chapters, he loaned me Bring up the Bodies. Richard was able to replace the light switch in my bathroom fixture for which I’m eternally grateful. And I washed my van and Richard and I polished it. On Wednesday drove up to Wilson’s and filled my tank for the first time in Nova Scotia, the price came down the previous Thursday Night. Shopped for a few essentials at Sobeys across the street. Shortly after getting home learned that Stanfest was canceled due to the approach of Hurricane Arthur. Decided to drive up to Saint John Thursday Morning before the wind could pick up.

Stopped twice along the way at RV Dealers with no luck finding lighting fixtures. I did see a 40-foot fifth wheel with working fireplace. Stopped at Masstown for more syrup and a few other bits and pieces. Drove HWY2 past Dieppe and Moncton encountering some crosswinds and turned south on HWY 1 to Saint John. The sarcastic old Quebecois Gatekeeper at Rockwood Park asked again, ‘Why would you want to spend a week in Saint John?’ Tom wasn’t home when I drove past. Set up backing onto young evergreens on the side bank opposite the washrooms in Site 106 finding it a bit downhill but hooked up my landline and settled in. In the fog and rain Wi-Fi can be dodgy and the electrical wires block the signal.

Came to Saint John to visit with my friend Tom and for two weeks we shared time together. Had him over for a multi-course spread on Friday night. On Saturday around 4:30 AM got the first tendrils of rain from Arthur and torrential rain sluicing down my windows by 6:00. Around 8 the wind started picking up rocking my RV less than gently by mid afternoon. By 6:00 that evening it was all over. Elsewhere 290,000 homes and businesses lost power as far as Fredericton and throughout NS and PEI. Hart Isle Resort in Fredericton was flooded and three RV’s and a car were swallowed by a sink hole. Sunday morning I walked to church in sunshine noting the fallen leaves, twigs and a tree at one point. Ten for worship with coffee after.

Highlights of two weeks in Saint John:

Seeing my friend’s new apartment.
Eating out at Mother Natures, Subway, and Vitos
Compline at Trinity Anglican Cathedral
Worship at Loch Lomond Senior Centre
Tuesday Night Historical Walk with David Goss
Wednesday Noontime Concerts
Harbour Walking Tour to Reversing Falls
Exploring Rockwood Park and Hilly Saint John
Backyard BBQ
Britt’s Pub Theological Discussion


On Wednesday arranged to move to a site where I could access a sewage line. Filled my interior 40L water tank while I was at it and got resettled. Thursday. Didn’t feel like doing anything and took my time getting off. Didn’t feel like driving in heavy fog anyway. The fog followed me all the way to Woodstock, NB where I stopped for fuel. With a rest stop of sorts at the Quebec border drove on to IGA in the Loup. Got a few essentials and a six-pack of Sleemans Cream Ale. Local Quebec Strawberries were almost the size of the wild variety. Stopped for a feed of Saint Hubert’s Chicken after emptying my milk container to make room. Got my usual site at Camping Du Quai. The kids were on duty now that school’s out. Liked the lad but the gal signed me in. Wi-Fi remained poor but I managed and wasn’t up to much Friday as I stayed over. Didn’t stray far. A noisy crew moved in Thursday night but left Friday Morning as I lazed in bed.

Somehow I forgot to change time zones and didn’t discover my mistake until I tried to visit St Hubert’s in Lèvis at 11:35 by my time keeping. They open at 11 EDST. Oh well. Watched a very red sun rise Saturday morning in what felt like the West, I do get turned around. Driving up the Saint Lawrence is a journey to the South-West. Got off around 9:00. No fog and no wind for which I should be thankful. Just a 300 mile drive on Quebec Highways that could be better. Not so much truck traffic Saturday Morning west of Quebec but more ‘Sunday Drivers’. Podcasts relieved the monotony. Gas in Drummondville was 3¢ cheaper than the fill-up I got at the retarded pump in Lèvis. Oh well.

Camping Aloutte saw me stuck beside a 3-generational family grouping nearing 20 with a petit garçon with his belly hanging prominently over his trunks and a butt crack smiling above the band at his rear. At least the A/C covered the racket. Opera on CBC. Toward evening walked up over the hill for the first time to see the extent of this campground. Should have had my camera as I had an excellent view of the ‘mountain’ to the south of HWY 20 whose noise followed even to the nature trail-woods road I found eventually at the back of the site. The insects drove me home again. The rear section extends to 400+ sites including group camping and is mainly residential seasonal camping. I needed the exercise.

Got off slowly again Sunday Morning though this time was off by 7:30. Most of HWY 30 and in particular the bridge across the Saint Lawrence is not in my GPS so it had kittens when I crossed the water. Had just enough cash for the toll booth. Stopped at the Ontario Border to visit the new En Route/Welcome Centre. Picked up a pile of Provincial Park info. Had brunch at the Lancaster Denny’s in part to read the comix. Their Wi-Fi was still in my tablet, my server was a ditz but I wasn’t in a hurry and the food arrived eventually. Had to ask for a coffee refill and it was scalding hot, almost boiling. Gassed up in Napanee and natch found cheaper gas later. Encountered a light shower in Kingston providing an extra reason to slow down beyond their proclivities for speed traps. Stop and go trom Thickson Rd until the highway expanded to 6 lanes before the collectors. Thundershowers around HWY 400 bunched traffic somewhat but I made it home unscathed by 4:30 traffic adding an hour to the journey. Always good that my passkey still opens the door.