Red Cross Technology Leadership Summit

We are at the Embassy Suites Tucson — Paloma Village (map), where the Disaster Services Technology Leadership Summit has been held over the past three days. While we've had a room at the hotel, we've been sleeping in the parking lot, since it's the only time all day we get to be with the pets. We have, however, been showering in the room; after hundreds of "navy" showers a year, it's nice every now and then to be able to luxuriate under a fully running shower head for a few minutes.



The summit meeting has been great. Out of some 60+ people at the meeting, there were perhaps a dozen we'd never met, and even then, we'd worked with half of those remotely. Some folks we had not seen in three or four years, and it was great to see everyone and catch up. We also heard first-rate presentations from the head of the Disaster Operations Center, the head of Disaster Staffing, and our boss, the head of Disaster Services Technology.

In addition to these informative presentations, we were also briefed by the Technology activity leads on various changes to our technology portfolio and forthcoming procedure changes to accommodate them. Louise and I are both on the teams that write the procedures and develop the training around them, so it looks like we have some work ahead of us.

The meeting was very upbeat and positive, and we got plenty of kudos for the job we have been doing over the past few years. We also took our lumps, as we generally got called on the carpet for failing to work together as a team in some cases, personality clashes, and infighting interfering with our ability to deliver exceptional customer service. Although that message may have been lost on some, I think each of us has room for improvement, and we've made a mental note to be sensitive to this on future operations.

Of course, the Chile earthquake occurred during the summit, along with the threat of a destructive tsunami in Hawaii. Tom, the lone technology manager in Hawaii was, of course, with us in the meeting; he spent a great deal of the day on the phone to his chapter. Mark, one of our international representatives was also there, freshly returned from Haiti, and he gave a nice presentation on his work there. It is not out of the question that he might soon be redeployed to Chile, although unlikely. We're having dinner with him tonight, and it will be interesting to hear his thoughts on this.

By early this afternoon, most folks were already on their way to to the airport. We had hoped to spend the afternoon around the pool, which has been taunting us just outside the meeting room windows all weekend. Today, however, it is cold and rainy here, so we've missed our window of opportunity. Our HHonors Gold late checkout was for naught. We were a bit distressed to learn, by the way, that the Red Cross had sprung for a room for us, which we clearly did not need. However, it was explained to us that they had previously contracted a guaranteed number of rooms for the event, and so the room we "occupied" would have been paid for regardless.

From here we will head back to the Desert Diamond Casino near the airport, to settle in for a few days while we figure out where to head next, and what our schedule will be.

Back in shirt sleeves

We are at the Desert Diamond Casino in Tucson, parked just off the end of runway 3 at Tucson International (map). The Tohono O'odham Nation actually runs two casinos in Tucson, both named Desert Diamond, and we've previously stayed at the other one. This one is closer to town and thus to our route.

We arrived Tuesday afternoon, and, following directions in both our casino camping guides, proceeded to the designated RV parking area at the southeast corner of the property. This being Tucson in February, and with the generous parking policy here of seven days, the designated lot was packed. While we were sitting there surveying the lot for a good spot, a security officer rode over on a bicycle, exactly as the guides said would happen. Even though I knew we could get Odyssey into any of several spots in the lot, he decided we'd need more room, and led us over to this spot in a completely different lot.

We had one neighbor Tuesday night, but otherwise have had the whole lot to ourselves. It's a great spot, with a couple of saguaros and chollas out our window, a great view of the airport, and a short walk to the casino and hotel. 3 is a short general aviation runway, lightly used; the heavy jets take off and land in a completely different direction. The most noise we've heard is Nogales highway just a few feet from us, and the occasional train on the tracks immediately across the street. This whole casino is brand new, having been completed in 2008 (Google's satellite view still shows the old casino, where the parking lot now sits), and we had a nice meal Tuesday night for less than $9 apiece in the buffet. There is also a steak house and two bars, as well as a small tribal museum.

The pleasant weather along with a full two days of downtime presented an excellent opportunity to get some projects done. Shortly after we arrived I changed the air compressor oil. So far it seems, subjectively at least, that the lighter oil is helping the hard starting at night, where it is still getting down to the 30s. The old oil also had a lot of entrained particulates, so it needed changing, and I am guessing that we're not all that far now from having to rebuild the cylinder. We are hard on our compressors; this is the fourth one since we hit the road, and I've already replaced several parts on it.

Both scooters were due for engine oil changes, and I got that done yesterday, along with cleaning the oil screens and air filters. My bike also needed its final drive oil replaced. While I was looking up procedures to refresh my memory, I discovered that my spark plug should have been replaced 1,000 km ago -- oops. I'll have to pick one up in the next few days.

I've also been calling around trying to find a new nozzle for our Webasto boiler. No one here seems to stock them, and I even ended up talking to the manufacturer, Danfoss, who gave me the name of a national distributor that can drop-ship them to me. The boiler is quitting occasionally and then needs to be reset. I suspect this is just a dirty flame sensor, but I don't want to tear it all apart without a fresh nozzle in hand, which is overdue for replacement.

Lately the generator has been auto-starting when we are only down less than 300 amp-hours. When they were new, our 920 amp-hour battery bank would give us 600-700 amp hours before the voltage dropped to auto-start levels. I suspect we are nearing the end of life on this set, which we've used hard for nearly three years. When the genny auto-started yesterday morning, I decided to equalize the batteries; often, this will improve the performance enough to squeeze some more cycles out of them. That had the generator running for a good three hours, even though we did not otherwise need it. We'll see today how far they drop before the genny kicks back on.

Louise spent yesterday deep-cleaning the house, which sorely needed it. As part of that she cleared a bunch of ancient and expired items out of the larder. We ate in last night, to finish up the fresh items in the fridge, in anticipation of three days of provided meals at our meeting. We have one remaining cleaning task, which is to wash the outside of the bus. It's filthy, and in consideration of our co-workers as well as the management of the nice hotel at which we'll be parked, we'd like to look a bit less like the Joads when we arrive. We'll try to find an empty parking lot somewhere along the 20 mile route to the hotel where we can pull out the pressure washer and get it done.

Yesterday I came across two links on the bus conversion bulletin boards that I thought I share with you. First is this site dedicated to a low underpass in North Carolina that has wreaked havoc with any number of tall vehicles. We do have nightmares about this, although they never involve a bridge so well marked (there's even a pair of flashing lights, fer cryin' out loud). The second is this eBay item, one of the artifacts of the recent implosion of Country Coach. While I don't expect anyone to buy this an build an RV on it, it is a steal for anyone who needs a brand new Cummins/Allison power train, and you'd get six new Alcoas and Goodyear 670-RV tires to boot, not to mention plenty of new items to part out such as brakes, wheel bearings, etc.. In fact, someone with an older Country Coach with worn chassis and suspension items could save a bundle with this: you'd get your whole purchase price back by selling the power train. Plus, it's already in Eugene, where there is no shortage of shops to do the work.

In a few minutes we will pack up to head to our meeting. I expect we will be extremely busy between now and when it ends on Sunday afternoon, so I may not post again here until then. Our boss recently tweeted that we will "... focus on people management in our technology field." Good thing, that -- we technologists have notoriously bad people skills. (Speak for yourself. -Louise)

Snowless in Lordsburg

We are in Lordsburg, New Mexico, parked behind Kranberry's Restaurant (map). They have free overnight RV and truck parking in the back, and we had a nice dinner, albeit sans vino, at the family-style restaurant.

Yesterday morning we stopped at the Flying-J in Anthony, Texas ("mile 0" -- really) to dump and fill tanks. The wind was blowing perhaps 15-20 with gusts higher than that, and the Flying-J is in the middle of a vast expanse of exposed sandy soil. I got sandblasted in the 20 minutes or so I stood there. I think the sandblasting buffed out some of the scratches that a dry acacia bush had put on Odyssey as we drove into Ara's place. We needed water for last night, and even though the waste tanks were not full, I didn't want to haul any more weight than necessary over the continental divide.

Shortly after our windblown stop at the Texas line, we arrived at the Goodyear dealer in Las Cruces. Fortunately for us, Steve, the manager who had written the note promising to pay for damages, was still there. He remembered the episode and was very accommodating, but, of course, not empowered to do anything himself immediately. He made photocopies of all my documentation and the rough hand-written total, agreed that all looked reasonable, and promised to send it in to the head office for handling. While we were in the office, several of the techs wandered by, and a few also remembered the episode; one even shouted out the name of the tech who had made the goof, which I will not repeat.

We don't yet have a check in hand, but we did get a very good vibe. I think Steve was actually relieved that the total was way less than he had feared, around $1,600. A brand new A-frame, had one even been available in the US, would have been well over $2,000, not including shipping, installation, and the other miscellaneous parts we used, and then the post-repair alignment was still $500 on top of that. So we have a positive outlook that a check will be forthcoming just as soon as the head office reviews the paperwork, and, if we have any trouble at all, at least we know there is still a shop full of witnesses who remembered the whole thing. (It is also well-documented here on the blog.)

The whole stop in Las Cruces took less than half an hour, even though we had been prepared to spend the night if need be. We have a very comfortable margin to arrive at the conference hotel in Tucson. We decided to press on to Lordsburg yesterday, though, because we had received dire warnings from the National Weather Service that there might be snow down to very low elevations everywhere across I-10 in NM. With visions of the highway closing for hours to clear snow, we wanted to at least be across the great divide by nightfall.

Lordsburg is a familiar stop for us; we've stayed at the Elks lodge across town more than once. We remembered it as being remote and thus quiet, with the nearest business being a Pilot truck stop half a mile away; I think I had to walk there once for milk. Since our last visit here, though, a giant Flying-J has been built, virtually surrounding the lodge. I remembered the abandoned remains of a hotel in that spot previously -- just a slab, really. If we parked at the lodge, we'd be surrounded by idling trucks by nightfall anyway; better to just park at the Flying-J itself and at least have a shorter walk to services. Ironically, the new Flying-J is right across the ramp from the Pilot, and I'm pretty sure Pilot bought what was left of Flying-J after its disastrous bankruptcy. It will be interesting to see if the combined company closes one of these locations.

Our Days End guide mentioned this restaurant as an alternative option, and we decided to check it out instead. As it turned out, we had the lot to ourselves last night after the restaurant closed, and it was very peaceful. The temperature did drop well below freezing, and we ended up running the boiler all evening and the generator for an hour this morning. At the moment, we are getting all the warmth we need from sunlight streaming through the windows. Angel found something else streaming through the windows -- a view of the birds in the adjacent pine tree. Her thrashing tail managed to strum a few chords on Louise's guitar as she drew a bead on her prey.

The predicted snow never materialized, at least not at this elevation. We had a bit of rain last night, and the resulting puddles were skinned over with ice this morning, but it is now a beatiful, dry, and sunny day. We will have no trouble making Tucson this afternoon, two days ahead of schedule. As tempting as it is to slow-roll to Tucson, with an interim stop someplace more scenic, our best weather will actually be found at our destination. That will give us a couple days of warmth to get some outside projects tackled, including changing the oil in the air compressor and both scooters. We have several options for spending the two nights in Tucson before rolling up to the hotel.

Hanging out with a real photographer

Check out more of Ara's fantastic photos of our visit here. Plus, he reveals some big news that he's been keeping secret for quite some time.

Photo by Ara Gureghian, used with permission.

Overlooking Juarez

We are at the Wal-Mart adjacent to the Cielo Vista Mall, in El Paso, Texas (map). This is a very familiar stop for us, as we have stayed here at least three times before.

We like this stop because it is easy on and off from I-10, has an Olive Garden, a complete mall, and a multiplex theater all a short walk away, and the store is a giant and well-stocked Super Center. While the freeway noise here is a bit loud, and the parking lot lights and adjacent mall sign are bright, it also has the advantage of a great panoramic view of Ciudad Juarez across the river; we are parked on a bluff at least 30' or so above I-10, and a good 200' or more above the valley floor. On a clear evening such as last night, one can see the lights of the entire city of Juarez.

The down side of being in a major city with all the attendant light pollution is that there is not much to see in the sky. I did not even bother to try to spot Endeavour on it's approach to Florida last night, although I suspect we might have caught some of the streak if it deorbited to Kennedy on orbit 218, had we still been someplace very dark.

We arrived fairly early in the afternoon, and decided to spend part of the afternoon shopping next door at the mall. Wow, what a zoo; I had forgotten what El Paso is like on a Sunday afternoon, as thousands of Chihuahuans pour across the border to shop US-style. That, of course, is one of the reasons why this Wal-Mart is so large and well-stocked, and probably a big part of what is keeping the Cielo Vista mall thriving in an otherwise down economy. The mall was packed, and it made for good people-watching. The mall is also very hip about social media: its large, flashing sign invites readers to follow the mall on Facebook or Twitter. In addition to myriad signs in Spanish, a sure way to know you are at the border is the presence of waste baskets next to the commodes in public rest rooms.

We both made out well on our shopping excursions. Long-time readers know we don't buy much, with a one-in, one-out philosophy here aboard Odyssey. Louise needed some new scarves, and got a steal at Dillards on super clearance. I desperately needed casual shoes, and found a nice pair of Nunn-Bush on sale at Penneys. The shoes they replaced were so badly worn out that I simply handed them back over the counter to the salesman for disposal along with the box from the new ones, and wore my new shoes out of the store. We also both got 15-minute "chair" massages, although we had to wait nearly half an hour for them due to the crowds.

We were just wrapping up with my shoe purchase when we heard the announcement that the mall would be closing in 15 minutes, at 6pm. We raced out the door and over to Olive Garden, knowing that the place would fill up just as soon as the mall closed. We scored an immediate table in the bar, even though the wait in the dining room was already a half hour. By the time we finished eating, it was standing room only in the waiting area and out the door.

We needed a whole list of items here at Wal-Mart, but prudence dictated we wait until this morning; as packed as the mall was, Wal-Mart would be absolute chaos. Even jockeying over here to our preferred parking spot had been a challenge when we arrived. Good choice; in stark contrast, the store was nearly empty this morning, and we sailed through every department and even check-out.

One of my purchases today was some synthetic 5w-40 motor oil. The air compressor has been starting hard, which has been impacting other things on board the bus. That would include the wireless router, which appears to be sensitive to the slight voltage drop. In researching possible causes, I found that below 50°, I am supposed to be using synthetic 5W-50 oil, yet the oil we've been using is ISO-100, which translates to about SAE-30. Really I should get non-detergent oil made for the purpose, but it is nearly impossible to find. Several folks have reported good results with the synthetic motor oil, and if it cures the hard starting, I'll take my chances with the detergent, at least until I can find the right stuff.

In a few minutes we will head to Las Cruces and the Goodyear dealer there.

Prada where?

We are at a picnic area on US-90 between Valentine and Van Horn, Texas (map), just a dozen miles from Prada Marfa, an art installation in the middle of nowhere.

I wrote about this weird art the last time we passed it, back in 2006. On that trip, we whizzed past in the eastbound direction. It took us completely by surprise, and there is no place to turn around or even park the bus, so we just kept driving. This time, since we knew enough to be looking for it ahead of time, we were able to stop long enough for a photo, with Odyssey precariously perched on the shoulder.

As luck would have it, Amtrak's Sunset Limited rolled past just as we were pulling over to stop. I'm sorry we couldn't get a photo that included the train as well; the Sunset is one of the last great cross-country train trips. We're thankful to have had the opportunity to take that train all the way from Orlando to Los Angeles; Amtrak has since suspended the service east of New Orleans indefinitely.

We knew that this was the last picnic area before Van Horn and I-10, and we wanted to enjoy one more night of dark and quiet solitude here in the desert. We are across the road from the Southern Pacific rail line, at the location of the old Chispa whistle stop. In addition to Amtrak six times a week, there are several long freights through here each day, and we enjoy listening to them rumble by. There is a grade crossing here for Means Ranch Road, so every train blows for the crossing in the familiar long-long-short-long pattern. Oddly, there is some king of locked receptacle right in the middle of the picnic area, marked simply "US-90." We haven't a clue what it is for, but I can see a lone sheet of paper rolled up in it. Perhaps one of our readers can identify this?

From Van Horn, we will likely be on I-10 most of the way to Tucson. I had originally planned a route that would have diverted north of El Paso onto New Mexico 9, a lovely and mostly untraveled route along the southern border that we've enjoyed in the past. However, I realized just a couple days ago that we will be coming as close to Las Cruces as we have been in a long time, and we should stop there while we have the chance.

The reason for the Las Cruces stop will be to visit in person the Goodyear Tire dealer there that bent our tag axle three years ago. We had extracted a promise from them to pay for the damage, but it has taken most of that three-plus years to actually make the repairs. I finally got all the documentation together to submit a bill to them last month, and have been dreading writing the letter to go along with it reminding them of their promise and explaining why it took three years to fix.

As long as we are coming this close, we've decided to present the bill in person. I think this will eliminate a lot of potential back-and-forth through the mail about the situation. I can answer any questions they have directly and immediately, and I have lots of photographic evidence of the damage and repairs, along with their hand-written promise to pay. Most importantly, if they are going to try to weasel out of it, they will at least have to face me while they do. If they do, we'll already be in Las Cruces if we need to go to the courthouse to file an action.

Once we are in Las Cruces it will no longer make sense to backtrack to NM-9. The route via I-10 is actually both shorter and faster, which will give us all day to deal with the bent tag axle issue if we need it. But other than a few dozen miles here and there, there are really no sensible alternate routes to I-10 all the way from Demming to Tucson.

Despoblado

We are at "The Oasis," the property of our friend Ara in a remote valley near Big Bend National Park. The closest town is Study Butte-Terlingua, but even that is some 30 miles from here. No map link today, in respect of privacy. We arrived Thursday afternoon after a nice drive along the rather desolate US-90.

We've had a wonderful visit, mostly just sitting around and chatting. Yesterday we pulled the scooters out and rode to Terlingua for lunch, with Ara and his dog Spirit in the lead on his sidecar rig. Spirit and Opal both have the same type of helmet and goggles ("Doggles"), and even though Terlingua would have been too far for Opal on the scooter, we did put her gear on for a photo opportunity in the sidecar with Spirit. It was very cute; she looks like a groupie.

Unsurprisingly, Ara knows everyone in Terlingua, and we enjoyed meeting several folks. Even in this remote place, there are neighbors, and we met a few of those as well. All nice people, as we have come to expect here in west Texas. We've also had some wonderful meals; Ara was an accomplished chef in his professional life, and has been doing all the cooking since we arrived.

This afternoon we will say our goodbyes and continue west on US-90; I expect we will be somewhere in the area of Valentine, Texas tonight.

West Texas solitude

We are at a picnic area on a remote stretch of US-90, east of Marathon (map). Now that we are in the unpopulated part of the state, these kinds of stopping options are actually more plentiful, and we decided on a early stop yesterday to catch our breath. We were off the road by 2:30.

It was nice to have a relaxing afternoon at home, catching up on email and taking care of some business. I made marinated skirt steak for dinner. And while this particular picnic area is only a couple dozen feet from the highway, US-90 here is lightly traveled, with perhaps four or five vehicles an hour, and almost none at night. I would guess the few pickups that whizzed past in the wee hours to have been Customs and Border Protection.

The sky is incredibly clear and dark here at night, the reason why the McDonald Observatory is located not far from here. When I stepped outside to walk Opal last night, I was overwhelmed by the stars; I had almost forgotten what they are like in such a remote, dark place. There is almost no hint of civilization here for miles in any direction, despite power lines running along the road, and a pole barn visible in the distance (no lights, though).

I suppose the dark and the quiet is what calls us so often to west Texas. At night, the only sounds to be heard are the occasional distant howl of a coyote, or maybe the sounds of cattle in some spots (not here, though -- we haven't seen a steer for miles). Often the loudest thing I can hear is my own tinnitus, a fact that sometimes necessitates me having to put on headphones and listen to music or the TV.

In a few minutes we will wrap up at this nice spot and continue west through Marathon and into Alpine, where we will turn south on highway 118 to visit our friend Ara, halfway to Terlingua.

La frontera

We are at the Wal-Mart in Del Rio, Texas (map), across the river from Ciudad Acuna, Mexico. While there are better places to stay here in Del Rio, including three primitive Park Service sites on Lake Amistad and the Elks Lodge where we dumped and filled on our way into town, I needed a prescription filled and Wal-Mart is my pharmacy.

This Wal-Mart is so used to winter Texans rolling through in their RVs that they have marked and striped RV parking on heavy concrete at the south edge of the store. While we normally shun the "RV ghetto," we respect the store's wishes, and we had three other rigs next to us last night. BTW, for those who are constantly asking if Odyssey is too tall, note that the two fifth-wheels in the photo are actually taller (when our dish is stowed, of course). There is a BBQ joint just a few paces away, and a Chili's on the other side of the parking lot.

This is an enormous and well-stocked store, as are most of those along the border. Lots of Mexicans cross each day to do their shopping here, although today it was quite uncrowded, probably due to Ash Wednesday as Mexico is a devoutly Catholic country. It's the last nice store we'll pass before we meet up with our friend Ara-the-chef near Big Bend, so we also used the opportunity to stock up for our couple of meals together.

We never made it to the Plaza Club yesterday. The spot that I had picked out ahead of time using Google Earth and Google Street View about 3/4 mile from the club turned out to be in the midst of not a few, but dozens of shady-looking characters milling around on the streets with nothing to do. That coupled with an abundance of graffiti made us uneasy about the parking spot, and with no other real alternatives within walking distance of the club, we just bailed out of town and canceled our reservation. From there it was a straight shot here on US-90; we did come across some $2.599 diesel along the way and topped up the tank, as we're not likely to see anything that low until El Paso, if then.

In a few minutes we will continue west on 90; I expect to be somewhere between Longfellow and Marathon tonight.

Talkin' 'bout China Grove

We are at a Wal-Mart in China Grove, Texas (map). OK, technically, we are in San Antonio, but we are just over the line from China Grove, which we drove through yesterday. And, yes, it's that China Grove, of Doobie Brothers fame.

Once again we've come a bit further than I had expected. We had a pleasant drive yesterday, with the weather finally warming up a bit. It is a part of Texas few people see, but we enjoy it. However, this particular route has few stopping options. Other than a free city park in Cuero, which was really too early to stop, the first decent place to overnight was a picnic area along US-87 west of Stockdale. That was just 45 minutes from here, though, and we decided to keep moving so we would have some dining options and be able to pick up a few supplies. It was a nice picnic area, though, and we've noted it it for the future.

This morning we will try to have lunch at the Plaza Club downtown, assuming we can find parking, before heading west on US-90 to the Rio Grande. We've already done the San Antonio tourist thing some time ago, having seen the Alamo and done the river walk. Louise's video of the river walk is here.

Ghosts of Ike

We are at the Wal-Mart in Lake Jackson, Texas (map), after an emotional drive along the gulf coast.

We got a very late start from Beaumont yesterday. We tried to have an early lunch, with our friends picking us up around 11ish. We decided to go to Pappadeaux's, which may have been our undoing. The place was packed, even at that hour, possibly because they were handing out beads and had the place decorated for Mardi Gras. We ordered a rather uncomplicated lunch, but still ended up being there nearly two hours. At least we had great company.

After lunch our friends took us on a little tour of downtown Beaumont. The city has been undergoing something of an urban renewal, and, while certainly unwelcome, Ike's effect was to accelerate that somewhat. Things are looking good, but I don't see the downtown really becoming vibrant unless and until someone puts some residential development there. As it stood, the place was deserted on a Sunday afternoon.

By the time we got back to the bus and everything stowed for travel, it was three o'clock. That gave us a mere three hours of daylight for driving. As of that time, we had gotten no further marching orders for Austin from the Red Cross, so we chose the southern route, and headed towards the Bolivar peninsula on 124, via I-10 (route 87 is still closed between High Island and Sabine Pass, and I don't think it will ever reopen).

Most of the communities on the peninsula were essentially wiped out completely by Ike, but we were encouraged to see that the majority of properties have either already been rebuilt, or are in the process. Mostly, it appears folks have chosen to build on even higher pilings than before, and it's always a little weird to drive along at ground level and see all the houses fifteen feet in the air. Several businesses have reopened, and those dedicated to the construction trades are booming. We drove the peninsula very slowly, trying to assimilate all that had transpired there.

When we arrived at the ferry terminal we had about a twenty minute wait, after a cursory security inspection. (Odyssey just got a once-over; we saw at least a couple of vehicles singled out for more detailed inspection, including opening hoods, etc.) We managed to load without drama, even though we often hold our breath as we drive onto ferries, and had a pleasant fifteen minute crossing.

Once on Galveston Island, we made our way to Seawall Boulevard and slow-rolled through town. Mostly, the debris has been removed, and many businesses are repaired and open. There was a small smattering of empty lots, and even fewer unrepaired structures on the inland side of the street. We did pass the spot where the Balinese Room once stood, glad we had the chance to see it at least once before Ike did what neither Carla nor Alicia could, and took it forever. A little further along, the ghostly hulk of the Flagship Hotel still looms over the seawall, too far gone to repair, but too expensive to remove.

This being Mardi Gras weekend, the town was packed to the gills. The street was littered with evidence of parades, and on this relatively pleasant day, every bar and restaurant along Seawall sported a full patio. Once again, we got plenty of stares and waves, as if we were one of the Mardi Gras floats just a bit late to the parade. I'm sure that if we'd stayed in town, we might have caught some "Galveston Mardi Gras flashers," which long time readers may remember was a search term that unwittingly landed a number of people on this blog a few years back. Clearly, Galveston tourism is back in full swing, and bodes well for a full recovery here.

A little further along we passed one of our favorite spots, Galveston Island State Park. We were surprised to see the concrete park office building completely gone; I would have expected it to have survived. A modular building stood watch in its place. At least one of the three campground loops is operational, as it was full of rigs. Beyond the park we rolled through Jamaica Beach, and were heartened to see the commercial RV park there, where we attended the scooter rally, fully operational and full to capacity for the big weekend. As we continued southwest along the length of the island, we saw mostly fully repaired structures on the beach side, with the occasional work in progress. Perhaps a couple percent of structures still showed untended damage; fewer still were missing completely.

Between the late start and the hour or so at the ferry, plus the slow roll along the island, the sun was beginning to set by the time we crossed the San Luis Pass toll bridge. We reached Surfside just after sunset, and used the last of the twilight to cross the Intracoastal Waterway and make it the last ten miles here to Wal-Mart, really the first available stop on the mainland. The inky black skies of an approaching thunderstorm clinched the decision to stop here, and the skies opened up as soon as we parked. Not as far as I'd hoped to be, but far enough to keep us on a good schedule for Tucson.

In a few minutes, we will continue along 332 to Brazoria, then make our way on 36, 35, and 111 to US-59 and into Victoria. We are leaving the gulf behind, and I suppose also our hurricane recovery reporting.

Balinese Room before and after Hurricane Ike photo by Texasbubba, used under a Creative Commons license.

A fork in the road

We are at a familiar Wal-Mart in Beaumont, Texas (map). We have been here twice before, and all three times we have been visiting our friends here. Their house is on a street that has a canopy of low-hanging oaks, so this is about as close as we can get.

We nearly did not make it out of Baton Rouge yesterday. Just before we got rolling, I noticed another RV come into the lot, but thought nothing of it. As we rolled past them, another three or four cars had gathered around them, and it had the appearance of a tailgate party. Many of the folks were sporting purple and gold colors, and what immediately came to mind was some sort of LSU game -- never mind that LSU is miles from downtown.

As we rolled out of the parking lot, casino security was at the entrance, stopping and directing every car, which I also thought strange for a Saturday morning, when they had done nothing of the sort on the very crowded Friday night. As we made the turn onto River Road, we spotted Louisiana State Patrol cars blocking every entrance to the Capitol, blue lights ablaze. That's when we noticed the hundreds and hundreds of cars lining the road on both sides.

We had, of course, stumbled right into Baton Rouge's Mardi Gras parade. It had not started yet; we passed the floats lined up at the beginning of the route. But every street that could have led us to I-110 was blocked off, and we had to slog our way south through town with parade-day traffic, dodging poorly-parked cars jutting out into the travel lane. Lots of folks sporting beads and other paraphernalia waved as we rolled by, and it felt like we were one of the floats.

It took us a good half hour or so to roll less than five miles to the bridge, where we were able to widget our way on without having to cross the parade route. But, wow, I have never seen so many people in downtown Baton Rouge. It occurred to us that we had just left behind an absolutely perfect parking spot for the parade, as it would have been just a short walk to the very beginning of the route. And at a good ten degrees warmer than the previous night in New Orleans, plus the sun shining, it might even have been comfortable viewing with enough warm clothes on. But as tempting as that might have been, we could just imagine what it would be like trying to get out of the city after the parade ended. As it stood, we were driving against the traffic, and it was still a slog, but we'd be driving with the traffic if we had waited. We satisfied ourselves with having seen the floats and most of the revelry, and were glad to be on the bridge and under way at a decent hour.

We wanted to be in Beaumont in plenty of time to spend an evening with our friends here, so we just rolled I-10 the whole way. Routes on either side are more interesting and relaxing, but add probably an hour to the drive. We made one rest stop, at the Texas Welcome Center just inside the state line. There we were amused to find the little "Ahorn Camp" class-B from Germany that had been parked right next to us in Titusville for the first launch attempt. Small world.

Today we will have lunch with our friends and then hit the road. We had two routes mapped from here -- one south, along the Bolivar peninsula, across the ferry, and along Galveston Island, which we have not seen since those communities were devastate by Hurricane Ike. Long time readers will remember that we worked the Ike relief operation, but in Florida and then Louisiana. This route will eventually take us in to San Antonio. The other route would be north on Texas 105, in order to stop in Austin, possibly to pick up some equipment or materials from the Red Cross warehouse there for our meeting in Tucson. We need to make the decision here, which is something of a fork in the road. At this point, it is looking like we will not need to go to Austin, as the warehouse there will not even be open until Tuesday.

Photo by Mike Freyder, used under a Creative Commons license.

NOLA roll-by

We are at the Hollywood Casino in Baton Rouge, Louisiana (map). We have a great spot right on the Mississippi, with a view of Port Allen across the river and the I-10 bridge downstream out one side, and the Louisiana Capitol tower out the other.

We really enjoyed our drive yesterday. Long Beach and Pass Christian, hard hit by the storm in 2005, are coming back slowly. The Wal-Mart has been rebuilt, set back from the coast by another hundred yards or so. What used to be the parking lot is now open space buffer. We did not drive up to see if they reinstalled the No Overnight Parking signs; with the coast still largely undeveloped, it's hard to imagine there is yet the sort of problem that had caused that policy to be instituted.

After passing into the Stennis Space Center buffer zone, we veered left to continue on US-90, rather than taking the much more traveled 607 over to I-10. The stretch of 90 from there to New Orleans is a lonely and forlorn highway, with a series of deteriorating bridges that we dared cross only when devoid of other traffic. It passed through some of the hardest-hit areas, completely flattened by storm surge that was trapped between the Mississippi delta and the gulf coast, with nowhere else to go. Pearlington, Mississippi and Louisiana islands like Petit Cocquilles and St. Catherines were wiped out, and today only a sprinkling of reconstructed homes stand here. Piles of debris and the remains of shotgun shacks still line the bayous.

Coming into St. Bernards on the outskirts of New Orleans, the road becomes Chef Menteur Highway. Many neighborhoods along here have been repaired, but the businesses in many cases have not. We rolled past the ghostly shadows of fast-food restaurants long abandoned, and entire shopping plazas still fenced off four and a half years later, ironically still sporting the names and logos of businesses long shuttered.

Odyssey is too much of a challenge in the French Quarter or even the CBD, and the garden district is out altogether due to low trees. So we rolled through town on US-90 as it transitioned from Chef Menteur to Gentilly to Broad, eventually turning onto US-61 which is Tulane in town but becomes Airline as it rolls west into Jefferson Parish. Even along these streets, we expected to see evidence of Mardi Gras in full swing, along with post-Super Bowl "Who Dat?" elation. Frankly, it was all very sedate and we saw virtually none of this.

I have always wanted to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, and leading up to this visit I had been looking forward to at least spending one night and taking in one of the world-famous parades, not to mention visiting our friend. However, as we arrived in the city in the early afternoon, it was literally just 42° outside. The parades start at 6:30, well after sunset, and we knew it would be in the mid-30s. While we do have all our winter clothes with us, of course, standing on a crowded street in near freezing temperature, watching a krewe who would surely also be suffering, was not an experience either of us relished. On top of which, given that all "normal" RV parking in the city is booked solid well in advance, we'd need to stealth park miles away, then make our way to a viewing spot via a very cold scooter ride. Even trying to hook up with our friend under such circumstances was questionable, and we decided just to move along.

Baton Rouge, a town with which we have more than just a passing familiarity, was the next sensible place to stop. In addition to having this nice casino as a known stopping option, we also knew we had a reciprocal club in town, and we thought we could get our "free" meal in for dinner. The Camelot Club is just a mile from here, and we thought we'd take a cab if it was too cold to walk. Stopping in Baton Rouge instead of New Orleans would also mean a much more comfortable drive today, as we are over an hour closer to Beaumont here.

When we arrived here in the lot, after a 20-minute traffic wait due to a train blocking the driveway, Travis from security came out of the watch tower and directed us to this great spot. I don't know if that's SOP for RVs, or if Travis was just amused by Odyssey, but, in either case, we were very happy to have his help. After we got parked and squared away, I called the club for dinner reservations.

We are a dozen days too late; the Camelot Club dropped out of the Signature dining program on February 1st. They would have been happy to make us a reservation at full price, but we were looking for the freebie that we supposedly get with our $25 monthly membership. If we were just going to pay full price for dinner, we didn't want to have to trek a mile away for it, and so we just wandered over to the casino and ate in their steak house, which was actually quite good. Prices were what one might expect for a casino steak house, but the wines by the glass were actually surprisingly reasonable. It was cold enough by the time we finished that we had the shuttle bring us back across the parking lot.

In a few minutes we will roll back through downtown and cross the Mississippi. We will be in Beaumont this evening to have dinner with some friends there. The forecast says it will be in the 50s -- break out the short sleeves!

Get thee to a Cookery

We are at the Flying-J truck stop in Gulfport, Mississippi (map), along I-10. Despite dire warnings of overnight sleet and snowfall, it has only been raining, and the roads are clear.

We got off to something of a late start yesterday. We made reservations for lunch at the Bienville Club in Mobile for 11:30, which was as soon as they opened. We arrived downtown by 11:15 and were very lucky to find a 40' on-street parking space at the edge of the central business district, on Royal Street in front of the post office, just past where the meters end. I pulled up to within a few feet of the car in front of me, to leave plenty of clearance for the post office's driveway behind us; they have tractor-trailers turning in there all the time, and most states require 10' or so of clearance at driveway entrances. The street was narrow, so I also pulled to within mere inches of the curb.

Lunch was excellent. Mindful of the time, we chose the buffet as a somewhat faster option. From our seats on the 34th floor, we had a great view of the giant Austal shipyards to the east, with the battleship Alabama in the background. To the south, we could see hundreds of RVs underneath the enormous I-10 interchange; the city opens this area to RVs each year for Mardi Gras, but the spaces are sold out years in advance. Mobile, not New Orleans, originated the Mardi Gras tradition in the US. The whole town is decorated for Carnival, and the club was no exception. Even the napkins were purple, gold, and green.

When we came back out, we were stunned to find a car parked immediately behind us. There wasn't really enough room for one there, of course, and he had pulled up within a couple feet of us due to the driveway. Now we were hosed -- with only a couple of feet on either end, just inches to the curb, and, to make matters worse, a telephone pole blocking my tail swing, all we could try to do was back and fill dozens of times to get out. However, 24 ton bus, plus highly crowned road, plus low-angle back and forth movement equals all three axles jammed against the curb.

By this time we had an audience consisting of dozens of postal workers as well as everyone from Turner Manufacturing across the street. Louise checked in with both places to see if the miscreant car owner could be located, but no such luck. And, of course, this could well be someone working downtown who just came back from lunch and parked for the rest of the day. We surely did not want to be stuck in Mobile until the end of the work day.

With few other options, I fashioned a ramp of sorts out of sections of 2x4 that we carry, to paraphrase Foghorn Leghorn, "for just such an emergency." By driving forward just a few inches onto the ramp, I could then cut the front wheels left, and roll the right front wheel onto the sidewalk when I backed up. Once the wheel was firmly on the sidewalk, I moved the ramp to just in front of the right driver, cut the wheels right, and pulled forward as far as I could. This brought us within millimeters of the phone pole, but now I could crank the wheel left as I backed up, just clearing the car. Fiddling with the ride height controls kept the bus from tilting into the phone pole or landing hard parts on the sidewalk.

Dancing the bus out of that parking space took us nearly 45 minutes, with nothing to show for it other than scuff marks on all three right tires. We have no idea whether our impromptu audience was appreciative or not, as we cleared out of there just as soon as we were free. I am now thinking of making a sign for the back of the bus that reads, "If you park us in, we will back right through you." In hindsight, I am sorry we did not get some photos or video of the process, but we were both very focused.

Our very next scheduled stop was Dodge's Fuel on US-90 in Gautier, just over the bridge from Pascagoula. We loaded up on diesel for $2.499 which, I thought, would be the lowest price we'd see from here to Tucson. Of course, that meant we'd see diesel for $2.479 just two blocks further west, but, still, this was a real score. We put in 215 gallons, which takes a long time through a single automotive-style dispenser. Further complicating matters was the fact that the dispenser shut off after the first $300, so I had to wait in line for them to reauthorize it. All of that added up to a fuel stop of over half an hour.

Between the parking fiasco and the long refueling stop, we began to realize that making New Orleans in plenty of time for Louise's class would be a stretch. Our only chance would be to give up on the scenic US-90 route, bail back up to I-10, and bomb straight there. Even then, we were unsure of what the parking situation would be, or even if we could arrange more reliable Internet access in time for the class. By the time the next turn to I-10 rolled up, we had decided to give up on making New Orleans, and take our chances overnight with the storm.

That freed us to continue on our scenic route, and drive in a much more relaxed fashion. But we still needed to find some WiFi somewhere; if the evening precipitation reached predicted levels, our satellite could easily be knocked off-line right in the middle of Louise's class; with over 20 students counting on her, that would be a serious problem.

After our maiden crossing of the new Ocean Springs-Biloxi bridge, we immediately turned into the Isle of Capri casino. We know them to be RV-friendly, and their RV parking area has about the best view of any of the Biloxi casinos. Unfortunately, try as we might, we could not find a WiFi signal anywhere in the lot. We pulled back out onto 90 West, wardriving through the rest of Biloxi. We passed a couple of open networks, but the confluence of an open signal, a legal parking spot, and access for a 40' bus never happened, so we continued on to Gulfport. Along the way, we passed an odd combination of brand-new homes and businesses, prime ocean-front lots still forlornly vacant and for sale nearly five years post-storm, and half-destroyed structures that look exactly as they did when the surge receded. Only the casinos have returned to business as usual.

We did find a waterfront casino in Gulfport with access, RV parking, and a glimmer of a wireless signal, but we could not get the WiFi to work reliably from where we had to park. Running out of time to get Louise squared away for her class, we reluctantly gave up on the coast, and headed north on 49 to the I-10 corridor, where we knew there would be a Flying-J with pay-for-use wireless. Oddly, the Garmin GPS knows nothing of Flying-J by name, but does have their restaurants listed -- Flying-J's restauarants are always either "The Cookery" or "The Country Market." This one is a Cookery, but the Garmin amusingly had it as "Cockery" instead.

We sprang the $5 for WiFi for Louise's computer, which of course guaranteed that the satellite never lost signal all evening. We also caved in to the dark side and bought a couple slices apiece of pepperoni pizza for dinner; Flying-J bakes them in-house and they are surprisingly good. We're in the RV parking out front, rather than our customary choice of the truck lot, to get the best WiFi signal, but this also made for a shorter walk to and from the counter in the downpour.

Today we will return to the coast and finish our scenic drive along US-90, destination unknown. We are having second thoughts about going to a Mardi Gras parade in sub-40° weather, especially if we'd have to ride the scooters over to it from a parking location that we have not yet vetted.

The South will freeze again

We are at the Bass Pro Shop in Spanish Fort, Alabama (map), just across Mobile Bay from Mobile.

This is a bit further than we had originally scheduled to go -- I had planned to stop just west of Pensacola, after putting 50 gallons of diesel in there at $2.679. (We knew we'd need the diesel furnace last night, and had to keep the fuel level above the dip tube, even though we'll see cheaper fuel today.) But free parking with a restaurant is always tempting, and we always enjoy browsing Outdoor World. This time, Louise managed to find some shoes she liked, too. So, maybe parking is not so free. We also had a light dinner at the Islamorada Fish Company restaurant in the store.

Bass Pro here is surrounded by brand new strip-mall type buildings, all empty. We imagine they were built in anticipation of a housing boom on this side of the bay, one that never came once the market tanked. It did mean we had our pick of parking spots. Bass Pro itself seemed fairly empty, too, but it was a Wednesday night. We hope they make out OK here, because it's a great stopping spot.

The Atlas-V launch was ultimately scrubbed yesterday, making us doubly glad we did not stick around for it. It finally went this morning, and our friend Chris said he could see it and hear it 30 miles away in Melbourne. I watched it on NASA TV. I expect we'll get a chance for another one on some future visit to Florida.

We have been marching to a game plan of being in New Orleans tonight, to visit our friend Anne and perhaps catch a pre-Mardi Gras parade. Tomorrow, we'd planned to head west through Baton Rouge, stopping somewhere around Lafayette or so on our way to Beaumont. Two things, however, have conspired to change that plan.

The first is that Louise realized quite suddenly yesterday that she is teaching a class by conference call tonight, so we would not have time to visit. No problem -- we thought we'd just slow down a bit, and spend tonight at the Isle of Capri Casino in Biloxi, about the half way point and along our planned route that involves another fuel stop in Gautier. We'd spend tomorrow night in New Orleans instead, and just do some extra miles on Saturday to keep to our scheduled arrival in Beaumont.

All of that changed once again this morning, after the Weather Alert radio woke us in the middle of the night. It turns out that our entire route from here to New Orleans will be pounded by sleet, freezing rain, and snow. Here, on the gulf coast! Dire warnings were issued by the national weather service about hazardous driving conditions, and we are further concerned because gulf coast cities tend to be short on snow removal equipment. Moreover, the heavy precipitation this evening will likely knock our satellite off line, which means Louise needs another way to get to the Internet to teach her class.

So, the new plan is to drive all the way to New Orleans today, as originally planned. Louise will teach her class tonight, using either Internet access borrowed from our friend, or an air card that the local Red Cross chapter can lend her -- it helps that we know the IT guy at the chapter, from our work on Katrina. We'll just stay through tomorrow night, as well, when we can visit with Anne and maybe catch a parade, assuming the weather does not cancel them. And we will resume our journey on Saturday when all is supposed to melt.

We will leave here shortly, make a brief stop at the Bienville Club in downtown Mobile for lunch, then head west on US-90 through Pascagoula and into Gautier, where my resources show diesel for $2.499 per gallon, the cheapest we will see all the way to Tucson. Time permitting, we will take US-90 all the way to New Orleans, for the first time since 2005. On all our interceding visits, one or both of the major bridges between Ocean Springs and Bay Saint Louis has been out.

Back into Winter

We are at a Wal-Mart in Tallahassee Florida (map). This is a familiar stop for us, having been here at least twice before. It was in the low 30s when we woke this morning; I'm starting to miss south Florida already.

Even though Tally was only a couple hours from where we started yesterday, we wanted to grab a subsidized lunch over at our reciprocal club here, on the FSU campus. Also, we knew this Wal-Mart would make a good stop.

At this moment, I have NASA TV on, watching the count for the Atlas-V launch of the Solar Dynamics Observatory. This is the launch we ruminated about staying in Titusville for. It is looking like we made a good choice, as high winds at the site are threatening to scrub. It's already been postponed to the middle of the one-hour window; we'll have to leave for the club just a few minutes later, so if they postpone to the end of the window we'll miss it. I'm watching the count because I am curious whether we might catch a glimpse of the vapor trail from here. I'm not holding my breath, because we are a long way away, and the launch azimuth is a bit south of due east.

Around 11 we will roll over to Doak Campbell Stadium on the FSU campus for lunch, after which we will head west to Pensacola and our next fuel stop. We should be somewhere just shy of Mobile tonight, and in New Orleans tomorrow night.

Photo by Phantom_Cameron, used under a Creative Commons license.

Westbound

We are at the Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park and Campground near Live Oak, Florida. We have good friends who live here part time; he's a Route Air Traffic Controller and had to leave this morning for the Jacksonville Center in Hilliard, where they live the rest of the week. So last night was really our only chance to see them on our way west.

As we've written here before, this is really a lovely place, with oodles of camp sites ranging from primitive to full hookup, a restaurant/bar/music hall, WiFi, and plenty of recreation opportunities. We always enjoy our stops here, brief as they usually are. One of these days, we're going to come for another festival and spend a whole week.

In a few minutes we will head west to the panhandle.

Technomadic tweetup, blast off, and Who Dat?

We are still at our primo site along the Indian River Lagoon in Titusville, directly across from Launch Complex 39-A, 12 miles away at Kennedy Space Center. We had a fantastic view of the launch this morning; even though I wrote here that we would not be taking photos, we did strap our little Canon PowerShot down before hand, and started rolling video a little before liftoff. The result is the video Louise posted earlier this morning.

Shortly after I posted here on Saturday, we connected with fellow full-timers Chris and Cherie from Technomadia. They dropped by in their truck on a scouting mission for viewing spots; once they arrived here to find we had found nearly the perfect site, they decided to go get their trailer. The diminutive rig was compact enough to squeeze into the car-width of space between us and the next motor home, a space still available because my scooter had been in it all day. That made having dinner together a snap.

Being rather lackadaisical about the whole social networking thing ourselves, Cherie and Chris are much better connected than we are. Shortly after they tweeted the new situation, we connected with mutual followers @NomadRip and @fireytree, James and Maria, who drove across the state from St. Pete to watch the launch. The six of us walked across the street to El Leoncito for dinner. That made two nights in a row for us, but the logistics of getting all six of us anyplace else was more trouble than it was worth, and besides, this place has good food and great margaritas. Shortly after returning to camp, a film crew from motherboard.tv found us all, and interviewed each couple for a documentary they are producing on the launch; we'll see if we get our 15 seconds of fame out of it.

We decided to stick with our original plan of catching some shut-eye before liftoff, so after checking the forecasts and tanking situation, we retired to bed, while the rest of our party hung out at the Oliver till zero hour. Party was also a good description of what went on all around us for most of the night; I had trouble sleeping and could hear some of it. In the morning, evidence abounded of beer-fueled revelry in every direction. When we did finally get up at T-15 minutes, I could not believe the sheer number of people and cars; every lot I could see from the deck was full, cars lined the road and even the median (or neutral ground for all our friends from New Orleans). There must have been thousands of people all along US-1.

As you know by now, the launch was scrubbed at the last minute, due to low clouds at Kennedy, which would obscure the runway in the event the orbiter needed to make an emergency "return to launch site." The disappointment throughout the crowd was palpable -- scrubbing for 24 hours was no problem for us, but clearly for many here, it was Sunday or nothing. This was clearly evident when last night's crowd turned out to be half the size or perhaps even less. That also meant fewer beer-crazed revelers, who were, perhaps, already spent after the Super Bowl.

Speaking of which, we decided to have a Camp STS130 pot luck Super Bowl party here aboard Odyssey last night; Chris and Cherie came over bearing chips, salsa, and beer, and Louise made turkey chili. We were joined briefly by fellow nomads the Browski family, @lukira, who left their Airstream trailer at Fort Wilderness in Disney World, and drove down to take in the launch from a nearby hotel. Hotels which had been completely sold out for Saturday night suddenly had availability on Sunday. We really enjoyed meeting everyone and had a great time both Saturday and Sunday evenings.

We dialed the Super Bowl in on high def, angled the 32" LCD towards the penthouse, and mostly chatted and ate throughout the game with the sound off. We were rooting for the Saints (Geaux Saints! Who Dat?), and we did turn the sound back on for the tense touchdown replay call, and, being geeks, of course turned it on for the Google ad as well as several other commercials. By the time the game ended, NASA TV was already broadcasting shuttle coverage. We again opted to turn in early, and I think Cherie and Chris did this time as well.

The launch went off without a hitch; I was watching the pad through the Celestron spotting scope when the main engines started and the boosters lit; we then took turns with the binoculars for most of the ascent. We were able to clearly see the boosters separate, and could see the glow of the main engines well into the flight, perhaps seven minutes out or so. They disappeared into some cloud cover in the distance just before main engine cutout and external tank separation, so we could not make out those events, but all in all a very spectacular view. We also got to see the shock wave of the liftoff approach us across the lagoon nearly a minute afterward, followed by the roar of the solids. Our little Canon camera recorded the visual shockwave quite clearly, but it couldn't capture the actual rumble of sound. Strange.

We feel completely satisfied with our night shuttle launch experience, and so today we will be moving on. The Atlas-V launch that was scheduled for tomorrow here at the Cape has been postponed until Wednesday; apparently there is a two-day launch separation rule. While that launch had been something of a backup option for us had the shuttle been scrubbed to a later date, and we had also considered sticking around tomorrow for it if Endeavour had launched on time, we don't want to take a whole extra day here away from our Tucson itinerary. In part that's because our friends from Live Oak never made it down here, and tonight is our last chance to see them on our way out of town. In any event, while the shuttle program is winding down and this may well have been our only chance to see an STS launch, expendable rockets will continue to launch here for years to come, and we will almost certainly get another chance at one.

At some point yesterday one of our readers, Ed, who lives right here in Titusville, dropped by to say hello and gave us a sheet of written suggestions for roads to travel here in Florida for a more authentic experience than the freeway. Fortunately, we'll be able to drive the eastern half of his suggested route today on our way to Live Oak. Most of the western half of the suggestions are roads we've already traveled on our first couple of passes through the state; thanks, Ed, for thinking of us. We were both on our way to run errands when he dropped by; I'm sorry we did not get the chance to sit and talk for a while longer.

We enjoyed watching the RVs come and go. Through the window of one rig, we could clearly see the pointy snout of a greyhound. Much to our surprise, at some point the door opened and not one, but SIX greyhounds emerged.

We should be in Live Oak tonight, and the panhandle tomorrow. Westward ho.

5...4...3...2...

Greetings from Camp #STS-130

We are parked on a section of grass between US-1 and the Indian River Lagoon (map), in Titusville, Florida. Even though the city ordinance technically permits this only from T-24 hours, we've actually been here since yesterday afternoon.

That's because my quick jaunt up here on the scooter revealed that, indeed, RVs were already arriving and the spaces with good views were filling fast. At least one RVer that I spoke with said he had checked with Titusville police who told him it was OK to park now, but had cautioned that while city property would be free, some empty waterfront property was in private hands, so don't be surprised if someone shows up to collect money. I zipped back down to the Cocoa Elks, where Louise already had Odyssey ready to go (I called her when I saw the glut of rigs), and we headed back up here post haste.

We drove right past the first couple of areas, with half a dozen rigs in each, because another RVer had told me she thought they were privately owned. We pulled in here, next to a different half dozen rigs, because a sign near this property suggests the city is planning to develop a park here, so we figured there was a good chance it was already city-owned. I should reiterate here that several of the spots on the list we got from Titusville Code Enforcement turned out to actually be Brevard County Parks, and when I called the county yesterday I was told in no uncertain terms that we could not park there, or at least not until sometime after midnight tonight.

We made the right call -- about 10pm or so, several rigs that had been parked south of here showed up, and asked us the status here (all I could do was shrug). Apparently, the land owner showed up, and booted them out, wanting to keep the area available strictly for cars. At, probably, $10 a pop, I'm guessing they'll make tons more money by keeping it as dense as possible, which means cars instead of rigs.

We're also glad we decided to come when we did, rather than wait until this morning. By 10am, every possible spot with a direct view of the launch pad was taken; by 11:30, rigs were parked two and three deep in places. I am guessing that by early this evening, we'll be parked-in for the duration; there are probably a hundred rigs here already, and I've even seen at least four tents.



We deliberately chose a spot where the view from ground level is obstructed by a large bush, but we can see the pad from our penthouse window and, of course, our roof deck (the launch pad is the bump on the horizon just to the left of Odyssey in the top photo in this post). We are just about as close as anyone can get without a viewing ticket for the Space Center itself, at 12 miles from the pad. At that distance, it will be a full minute between when we see the boosters light, and when the thunderous sound reaches our ears. The bush means we will not have a large group of people crowding around the bus at liftoff, since there is a better view a few yards away in either direction.



Once we had ourselves well parked and squared away, we wandered across the street to El Leoncito, the closest restaurant. It was packed; the waitress told us all hotels are sold out for this launch. She also told us no one would hassle us for being a day early -- shuttle launches are the golden goose here in Titusville. The fajitas were excellent, as were the swimming-pool sized margaritas.

We deliberately did not do any "set up" last night, just in case we got booted out -- getting definitive information about where parking is and isn't allowed is nearly impossible. But once the place turned into Quartzsite-East this morning, we figured we were safe, so I set up the deck. I've dogged down the Celestron spotting scope on one of the railings, with an excellent view of the pad. We also pulled the scooters out, figuring that, at any moment, more vehicles might come in and block the ramps from opening; this will give us more dinner options tonight.

We've learned that fellow full-timers Chris and Cherie from Technomadia are also here for the launch, and we're trying to connect with them this afternoon. And we expect our friends from Live Oak to be coming down tonight, with a large entourage, so we may try to hook up with them as well.

Our plan is to get to bed early and try to get some sleep in before liftoff, set an alarm or two for about 4:20, and stumble up to the deck just a couple minutes before ignition. It's supposed to be 44° at that hour, so there is a distinct possibility we will wimp out and watch from our comfy chairs in the warmth of the penthouse.

I will forewarn our readers now: we do not plan to take any photos. For one thing, photographing a night launch is extremely tricky, requiring careful attention to a variety of manual camera settings (auto-exposure can't cope with going from the black of night to the amount of light coming off the boosters), and our camera is really not up to the task, nor is our lens long enough. But more importantly, photos of launches (taken by those far more capable than us) can be downloaded off the Internet by the thousands -- I expect this launch will be no exception -- and all the advice we've read says just watch the launch with your eyes, and not looking through a viewfinder. Good advice that we intend to follow.

T minus 43 hours and counting

We are at the Elks lodge in Cocoa, Florida (map). The lodge is just three blocks from the historic downtown, known as Cocoa Village, and we have plenty of dining choices within a short walk from here. This is just an empty parking lot, but there are three other rigs here (including two that we saw at the Stuart Elks when we were there), I assume on account of the upcoming shuttle launch.

This is not the closest lodge to our launch destination in Titusville, but we chose it because the Titusville lodge is really not in walking distance to anything, and has a parking fee due to having hookups that we don't need. I would also assume they are full up around launch days, even though you can't see the pads from there. We arrived here Wednesday afternoon, so we would have plenty of time to scope out launch parking, and wandered down to the waterfront for dinner at Cara Mia, a nice Italian joint with a view of the anchorage. For anyone who did not catch the tweet, the Red Cross finally sorted things out and decided we were not needed in Orlando for the Haiti repatriation; a friend of ours working that operation says things are quiet there.

Yesterday we rode the scooters up to Titusville to check out the parking options. It's at least 20 miles or so to the spot I had pre-selected, and by the time we finished the whole circuit, we'd put a good 60+ miles on the bikes. On our way north, we stopped at several roadside locations along US-1 that offered a good view of the pads; I was able to see the nose of the external fuel tank through my binoculars (Endeavour herself is obscured by the gantry). Two locations were Brevard County parks, two were private parking lots, and the remainder were open land of unknown status along the road.

We rolled right past Titusville City Hall, so we stopped in to inquire about the parking issues with Code Enforcement. They were very pleasant and handed us a map, along with a copy of the pre-launch RV parking rules. It would seem, however, that the map calls out several locations which are actually under control of the county, and the parking status there is somewhat in question; one local we encountered while scoping out a park told us it would likely be roped off before the launch.

We eventually made it to my carefully pre-chosen site, along the bridge landings on the Max Brewer Parkway, only to find they are completely closed off due to a massive project to replace the old bascule bridge with a much taller bridge just south of it. In addition to wiping out a bunch of launch parking, the bridge project obscures the view from the parks at either end, as well as the marina just north. On top of all this, construction on the road through the north end of the city would make reaching these sites a pain.

We double-checked some spots on the map on our way back south, then headed out to Port Canaveral to check out Jetty Park. Notwithstanding what I had read in various places, the pads are not visible from Jetty, and the camping is, unsurprisingly, sold out. The overflow parking we could use would only be available after midnight on Saturday, and the view from that lot is obscured by trees. We rode back by way of Cocoa Beach, and ended up having dinner at Norman's, right next door to the lodge.

I have my fingers crossed that of the four or five spots along US-1 in Titusville we saw yesterday, at least one will be open to us tomorrow morning. The aforementioned local had guessed that tons of RVs would be arriving as early as today to take up positions (even though the ordinance clearly states no sooner than T-24 hours). So this afternoon, I plan to zip back up there on the scooter to see if he was right, and also see if anyone has started roping things off.

We plan to load up tomorrow evening, so that we can head out first thing Saturday morning to find a spot. I am hoping that the vast majority of launch tourists will be arriving in cars, and thus not likely to be staking out parking spaces a full day ahead of liftoff, whereas for us, it's not a problem to be sitting around all day in a parking lot.

Assuming the launch goes as scheduled (a scrub would reschedule it for 23 hours 37 minutes later), we should be rolling out of Titusville sometime mid-day on Sunday. We had planned to just head north from there, but our mail is en route to this lodge, and will not arrive until Monday, so we will head right back here. We'll stick around through Tuesday morning, when an Atlas-V is scheduled to launch from Canaveral Air Force Station; I'm expecting to have a good view of that from right where we are.

By Tuesday evening we should be in Jacksonville, on the first leg of our trip west to Tucson.

Coach meets Trawler on the Okeechobee

We are back in Stuart, Florida, this time at the Corps of Engineers campground adjacent to the St. Lucie Lock, on the Okeechobee Waterway (map). In addition to nine camp sites with water and electricity, there are also eight slips with the same amenities. While $24 per night is about average for a campground, it's a great deal for dockage, and there were three trawlers as well as a couple of sailboats here last night. One of the boats is a Defever 49, and we wondered if we had seen them at Cruiser Expo. As I type, another trawler is waiting to lock downriver.

We picked this spot because it was nearly halfway to Cocoa, where we plan to spend the three nights leading up to the launch. We were alerted to this spot at Trawler Fest as a good place to camp in view of the lock. This is on the upriver side; there is also a county park campground on the downriver side. The county park is not nearly as nice, with less of a view, yet only $3 cheaper (although they do have no-hookup sites for $16). It's larger, though, and was our backup plan in case the small handful of sites here were full.

We had just settled in and were enjoying a glass of wine up on the deck, overlooking the channel, when Louise's phone rang with a call from the Disaster Operations Center in DC. It was the staff deployment center, wanting to send her to Orlando to help with the Haiti relief effort, specifically repatriation. That seemed odd to us, because our direct management in DC had just called us earlier in the day to confirm our participation in a meeting in Tucson just two weeks from now (relief deployments are usually a minimum of three weeks). Louise explained the meeting situation to the deployment people, and I called our leads to find out what was going on.

The deployment center was so desperate for help that they agreed to a single week for the assignment, leaving us just enough time to make Tucson (without, of course, any of our planned stops or visits en route). Meanwhile, the leads seemed to think we were unneeded in Orlando and could not understand why Louise was being sent. As it stands right now, she has deployment orders (but I do not), and we are waiting for a call back from Washington sorting out the apparent confusion.

Checkout time here is in just five minutes, so we will need to get on the road. The route for Orlando splits off from the route for Cocoa about an hour and a half north; with any luck, we will have a definitive answer before we hit that point. In the meantime, I am mulling over in the back of my mind how we can still see the launch if Louise is (or both of us are) working an operation in Orlando. Stay tuned; one of us will probably tweet as soon as we know where we're headed.