Rude awakening

We are at the Lake Fisher Park in Bloomfield, Iowa (map). This is actually a municipal park, despite being a mile or so from town. There is a small campground here, just six sites, but each has a 50-amp pedestal and access to a water spigot. Sites also have tables and three of them have fire rings. Not bad for just $10 per night; stays of up to ten nights are permitted. In addition to the campground, the park has a disc golf course, playground, ball field, picnic shelters and, of course, the lake. We have the whole campground to ourselves.

We had an excellent visit and stay with our friends. We ended up spending six nights, through the duration of our conference. Five of those nights we dined together, and the final night, where our conference ran through dinner, we enjoyed cocktails on the deck afterward. They also gave us a great tour of Des Moines and we spent a pleasant evening at the Arts Festival. We are very grateful to them for their hospitality.

Yesterday morning we had figured to sleep in a little bit (remember those cocktails?) and then get ready to roll. Instead I awoke to the sound of a klaxon -- how my phone rings when the call is from the Red Cross Disaster Operations Center. We are not on call this month, so it caught me by surprise, and by the time I climbed out of bed and made it to the phone it had stopped. No message was left and I opted to have my first cup of coffee before calling back in to see what was up.

They were scrambling to assemble leadership teams for Tropical Storm Debby in Florida, and the Colorado wild fires, and I think they were hoping to send a Chief. By the time I called back in they had filled the list with people who are actually on call this month, which is good because we were really not well-positioned for those disasters anyway. One of the on-call leaders was our host, Mark, and shortly after my phone rang he found out he was headed to Denver. I feel a bit guilty because I think our presence for the last few days kept him from getting the lawn mowed before he left. I did check to see if we could drop him at the airport on our way out of town, but DSM has 12'0" clearance on its approach roads.

We did go right past the airport as we left Des Moines on IA-5, one of the few highways in this part of the state that travels at an angle to south or east. After a brief stop at the Walmart in Knoxville for provisions, the road narrowed from divided highway to two-lane through rolling hills, a very pleasant drive. US-34 took us the rest of the way into Ottumwa, where we had figured to stop for the night at the municipal campground.

It was still early in the day when we rolled up on it, and it was fairly unappealing from the road -- lots of rigs, fairly closely spaced. At $15, we figured we could do better by continuing on our route, which turned south in Ottumwa onto US-63. This spot was only another half hour along, and fit the bill nicely, especially being empty as it was.

Now that the leadership pool has been depleted staffing the current disasters, and with things happening fast and furious on the disaster landscape, we feel the need to pick up the pace and make Kentucky before our on-call availability comes up. We don't want to get diverted to the coast or elsewhere without getting the chance to see the boat there. Between here and there we will pass through St. Louis, where by coincidence some of our nomadic friends are already meeting up, and we'll stop there Wednesday night to have dinner with them. That will still give us two days to make it to the lake before we go on-call.

From here we will head east and south on state routes 2 and 15 across the border into Missouri, where state routes 15 and 6 will bring us to the Great River Road. I expect tonight we will be in Palmyra, or maybe Hannibal.

Power-hungry

We are at Oak Park, a municipal park in Dayton, Iowa (map). There is a camping area here in between the golf course and the rodeo grounds, where 30 amps of power can be had for $12 per night. We've moved into hot, humid weather, and having the power to run a couple air conditioners is not yet essential, but welcome.

After leaving Cabela's yesterday, we diverted a bit west of the freeway onto US-69 in Albert Lea, MN. Knowing we are now in the part of the country where many towns have small municipal campgrounds, usually right in town and often with inexpensive or even free electric hookups, Louise combed through the directories looking for a power pedestal along our route.

She came up with a wonderful city park in the town of Webster City, right on the Boone River. The guide said they had quite a few pedestals, and the first night or two would be free. On top of that, Webster City is exactly where we had planned to cross over from US-69 to IA-17 a bit further west, and while it was a little past the halfway mark en route to our friends, it was still a comfortable day.

The park turned out to be a real gem, just a short walk from downtown. Unfortunately, it also turned out to be closed, with a hand-written wooden sign to that effect leaning against the closed gate. We assume there is some damage still from last year's river flooding in this region. It was very disappointing, especially at 4:30 in the afternoon, when we were both ready to stop.

This park was our backup option, but it was nearly another hour of driving, including a very tricky 3-point turn to extricate ourselves from the closed park in Webster City -- with the gates closed, there was not really enough room to turn the coach around. In hindsight, we should have stopped just a bit earlier, at the Winnebago headquarters plant in Forest City, along the Winnebago River in Winnebago county. Two night's free power are available there, too, and you don't even need a Winnebago. (No, we did not stop to take the factory tour, although clearly many people make the pilgrimage to do so.)

The extra driving yesterday means we will have a short day today, with just 65 miles to go. Dayton did not have the dining options of either Webster City or Forest City, so I ended up grilling a steak for dinner, which was a little strange standing more or less on the golf course. There are only three other rigs here, notwithstanding some 40-odd power hookups. I imagine it fills up when the rodeo is in town on Labor Day.

Land rush

We are at the Riverside Park in Saint Peter, Minnesota (map). Saint Peter is a quaint little town right on US-169, and this is a lovely little park. They have pedestals here with 30-amp power for $20 per night, and in yesterday's muggy weather we decided that was a bargain. We have a nice spot right along the Minnesota River.

As I wrote here Wednesday, we spent Thursday driving around the southeastern corner of South Dakota looking at properties. We had a list of six parcels, all under $10,000, but we eliminated one of those because it already had a house on it (yes, incredibly, a house for less than ten grand), and we just did not want the liability of having a structure. Besides, it was the furthest from Sioux Falls, although ironically the closest to Madison.

By the end of the day, we had actually settled on a parcel that already had a street address assigned, in the city limits of Lennox, a small town just 20 minutes outside of Sioux Falls. There were actually two nearly identical parcels next door to each other, by the same seller. Since we had wrapped up our grand tour by early afternoon, we drove back to the Realtor's office to discuss details and make an offer. We offered about 80% of asking price and agreed we also wanted a "staked survey" at our expense, and also found out from our agent that he had a contractor who could handle the required mowing of the property once or twice a season. Yesterday we got an email back saying our offer had been verbally accepted, and the seller would also make us a smoking deal on the property next door if we wanted it (we don't). Now it is just a matter of waiting for the title report and finishing the paperwork.

On our way to the real estate office we made a nice stop at Falls Park to look at the falls and ascend the small observation tower there, passing the enormous John Morrell meat processing plant on our way. The entire area around the plant, including the falls, smells like smoking pork. We also enjoyed driving through the downtown area, something not really possible in Odyssey, and we noted a pleasant restaurant district as we did so.



After we finished at the Realtor's, we drove back to the Empire Mall, where we had left Odyssey in the morning as there was really no room for it in the parking lot of the giant Ford dealer that contained the car rental agency. We moved the bus across the street to the Walmart (map), the same one where we stayed two nights earlier. This time we parked adjacent to the back of the Barnes & Noble store, to try to get further away from the brutal Walmart parking-lot lights, and discovered we got free WiFi there. We drove back downtown for an excellent meal at Bros Brasserie Americano, for which Louise found a coupon on Restaurant.com. The evening weather was so pleasant that we ate on the patio, which made for great people-watching.

Yesterday we turned the car back in first thing in the morning; our total was $42 for the car and another $20 for gas at Sam's Club adjacent to Walmart -- way more cost-effective than the ~$100 it would have cost us to make the trip in the bus, plus we would not have been able to see the falls or have dinner downtown. It was a short walk from the rental agency back across the street to Walmart to get the bus. I did not blog yesterday because we wanted to get right on the road.

That's because we'd made plans to see our niece this weekend in Minneapolis. She lives in California but is on her way to summer camp in Minnesota, and spending a couple of days in the city first with her grandmother. As of yesterday morning, though, we did not know if we were going to meet today or tomorrow. On the chance we'd need to be in Minneapolis by lunch time today, we wanted to get an early start.

It wasn't long after we'd turned northeast on MN-60 from I-90, though, that Louise got word by text message that tomorrow would work better for them, and so we decided to end the day a bit earlier and not push all the way to the city yesterday. This little park was listed in Don Wright's book, and when we rolled into town we decided it would make a nice stop.

We took the scooters out and rode around town a bit in search of dinner. I had hoped to eat at the Cedars Grille in the historic Konsbruck Hotel, but we discovered that both had closed permanently, probably fairly recently. Instead we rode across the river to the Whisky River restaurant, which was quite popular on a Friday night. We shared the prime rib special, which was more than enough to feed both of us.

In a few minutes we will get rolling to Minneapolis. We were unable to find any inexpensive parking in the city, so we will have to bite the bullet and spring for an RV park while we are there. We'll spend just a night or two before heading east toward Wisconsin, where we plan to look at a boat.

Boatless in Seattle

We are parked on the street in Kirkland, Washington, at our usual spot across the street from where the transit buses lay over. We have friends here in town, and we will meet them for dinner a short walk from here this evening. Louise's cousins drove down from Woodinville earlier today and we had a nice lunch with them.

This is the first breather I've had since my last post here, and I have a lot of catching up to do. It has been a whirlwind ride, and something of an emotional roller coaster as well, which I will describe shortly. Suffice it to say, we have not bought a boat, although we came very close.

There were two boats on our "must see" list at the show, a DeFever 46 and a Krogen 48. The DeFever was well out of our price range, but we wanted to see if we could make the boat work for us, as they come available from time to time and one within our budget coming along some day is not out of the question. The Krogen was also out of our range, but the selling broker had hinted that it might close inside our budget, so we went through it quite carefully.

We liked the DeFever, but not well enough to hold out long-term for one to come along. The Krogen had too many issues that needed attention for the price we'd have to pay. The boat that ultimately ended up being the front-runner for us in the show was actually the one we took the ride on that first day. She's a Dutch-built aluminum passagemaker in apparently excellent condition, with all the features and amenities we would want in any boat, and then some. We had looked at this same boat two years ago, but the asking price was well out of our range and we did not give it much thought. Since then, however, it has come down to within striking distance, and we thought we might be able to negotiate a price we could live with.

Since the boat was at the show and our very own broker was listing it, we were able to spend a great deal of time aboard and get many questions answered by the current owner. The boat is 60' long, a good ten feet longer than our comfort zone, and with three staterooms seemed enormous to us. But the longer we looked, the more appealing it became, and we worked past our discomfort with the length and size. The only other issue with it, as far as we could tell, and what probably kept her from selling for the past two years, was that she had two spiral staircases that were so steep as to hardly even count as ship's ladders. We are young and limber, as trawler buyers go, so we were willing to look past that.

By the end of the show we were pretty convinced we would make an offer on the boat, and our broker Curtis arranged with the owner to let us ride with the hired captain as he brought the boat back to Lake Union from the show in Anacortes on Sunday, a cruise of some seven hours. This would give us a feel for how she handled, and how she looked, felt, sounded, and smelled under way. It also gave us a chance to have the captain answer some questions the owner could not, and look around the boat without the worry of being in the way of other show attendees or potential buyers.

Since our plan had been to check out Sunday morning and get rolling out of Anacortes, this meant we had to scramble around and make alternate arrangements. We stopped by the harbormaster's office and paid for another night in the RV parking area, and I booked a rental car at SeaTac to get us back to Anacortes from the lake. Curtis would give us a ride to the airport after we arrived.

By the time we tied up at the dock, we had decided to make an offer. We spent a half hour or so sitting on the boat with Curtis and Gill after the captain left and discussed the details, but we had one more step to take. Long-time readers may recall seeing me refer to marine consultant and Passagemaker Magazine technical editor Steve D'Antonio from time to time here in the blog. Steve was, as always, at the show, and we attended his most excellent technical seminar on Thursday, as well as his always popular engine room tour and lecture on Saturday. Seizing the opportunity wherein Steve, we, and the boat were all in the same place together, I asked him if he would have time to conduct an inspection of the boat before we moved forward.

Steve agreed to do this on Monday in the slip at Lake Union, and the owner agreed to the inspection as well. So after returning to Anacortes in the rental car Sunday night, we got Odyssey ready for an early departure Monday morning. There was no way we were getting the bus to Lake Union, so I followed Louise in the rental car Monday to the Tulalip Casino (map), a familiar stop for us, and got squared away in one of the courtesy RV spaces before heading the rest of the way to the lake in the rental car.

Steve spent the whole day with us aboard the boat. After a brief lesson on the metallurgy of aluminum boats and the special problems that presents, we started out in the forward end, working our way aft and opening every bilge hatch we could find. By the third hatch or so, my heart had sunk, and by the time we stopped for lunch at about the midships bulkhead, I knew there was no way we were going to end up with the boat.

Nevertheless, as we had paid for more or less the full day as a "light inspection" (Steve's full inspection, typically conducted after an offer has been made and the boat is under contract, is much more extensive and involves tools, coveralls, and more than one day), and one never knows how low a seller might go, we spent the afternoon finishing the job. The owner showed up at one point while we were removing an access cover on the hydraulically operated swim platform, and was able to answer a couple of questions.

The terms of a nondisclosure agreement we signed to have Steve conduct his inspection prohibit me from sharing the full details here on the blog. Neither do we want to have any legal conflict with the seller. But let it suffice to say that changes made to the boat on the part of one or more previous owners (not the current one) essentially compromised the inherent seaworthiness the boat had when it left the builder's yard in Schiedam, Holland some 28 years ago (yes, the boat is one year older than Odyssey). Several problems, while serious, were of the sort that a few hundred dollars in proper marine-grade materials and a lot of sweat equity on our part could have resolved. But at least two major issues would require the services of a well-equipped and capable boat yard, at costs running into the tens of thousands.

At the end of the day Sunday, we were ready to offer a firm 90% of the seller's recently-lowered asking price, an offer which we think had a good chance of being accepted. By the end of the day Monday, the most we could pay was considerably less than that, in order to have the critical yard work done and still be within budget. We passed this along to the broker, but we can't imagine the seller accepting such an offer unless the boat sits unsold for at least another six months.

Given that we had to talk ourselves into the boat in the first place, and having so thoroughly embraced it in the process, it was a huge letdown to come to this position. I was so exhausted Monday night I collapsed in the bed by 10pm. That might have been from poking around in the bilges, but more likely it was from the roller coaster of emotions.

When Tuesday morning rolled around, I could finally start thinking about how we were going to get the rental car back to SeaTac. Our cut-rate car (it was just $16 a day) could only be returned to the airport, and we had booked just two days, so it was due back by 4:45. There is a shuttle from the airport to the Tulalip Casino, but it's $24 apiece one way, making returning our $32 car a $48 proposition.

We decided instead to come straight here, even though I had told the casino security that we'd be there three nights (they allow up to seven). We knew from past experience that we could get here on a single bus from downtown, whereas getting to the casino is a three-bus affair, in what was likely to be pouring rain -- this is, after all, Seattle.

As long as we had the rental car for the whole day, I dropped off a pump at Sure Marine that needed to be looked at, and we drove back to Elliott Bay Marina to look at one more boat that I turned up on Yachtworld after concluding we would not close a deal. We made it back to the airport in plenty of time after one final stop to gas up the car. Somewhere in the process, we ended up going over a toll bridge with no tolltakers, so the rental agency will get a bill for the toll in the mail. We wonder what they will charge us for the $3.75 toll once they get it.

At the airport we were able to hop on the most excellent Link light rail system, which for $2.75 apiece got us to downtown Seattle. We had a nice dinner there at the Columbia Tower Club, high above the city, before hopping on the #255 bus, which stops just a couple blocks from here. A long day, but we got the car returned for just $10, had dinner in the process, and ended up here where we needed to be for a visit anyway.

That last boat, by the way, was a non-starter, so we are back where we started more or less before the show, although wiser and further along the search curve. We always learn something new at these shows, have a great time socializing, enjoy going on a variety of boats, and now for the second time at Anacortes, got some sea time in as well. Steve's light inspection, while an expensive foray on a boat we're probably not going to buy, was worth every penny and the most educational thing we did while here.

Tomorrow morning we will head back to Sumner to collect our missing loveseat and brush guard, and perhaps take care of one or two more items before heading east. We need to start heading towards the Tri-Cities to sell our property in Desert Aire, and then on to South Dakota to finish transferring our domicile there. All things which need to happen before we buy a boat, anyway, and we would have been under the gun to get it done pronto if we had, indeed, made an offer on a boat this week.

Trapped in Iowa

We are at the municipal campground in Keokuk, Iowa, right on the Mississippi (map). And by right on, I nearly mean right in -- when we arrived yesterday the river was within inches of the bank. If we wanted a campfire. there is an enormous supply of driftwood littering the river trail east of here. The level has dropped about a foot since we arrived.

Today we are the only ones here, although there was one other rig when we arrived. This area has room for five rigs with 30-amp power; a bit further downriver is a much larger lot with perhaps a dozen pedestals with 50-amp power. That lot is more spartan, having once been the parking for a long-gone casino riverboat. It, too, was empty when we arrived.

At $16 per night it's not exactly a bargain, but we needed the power, and having a riverfront site mostly to ourselves is nice. The Keokuk Junction and BNSF rail yards are across the street, so we have a view of the towboats out one side and the trains out the other. We're right at home here, and both those modes of transportation have the effect of making Odyssey look lilliputian.

Camping is paid for over at the museum, housed in a land-locked, century-old paddlewheel towboat called the Geo. M. Verity. When we wandered in there today to pay we found out that the bridge and road southwest of here across the Des Moines river and into Missouri, on our planned route of US-61, is flooded out, and so we are "trapped" here. We can see if the flooding subsides tomorrow, or we can cross into Illinois and back again at Quincy.

Last night we walked a few blocks uphill to The Cellar restaurant and bar, which had a panoramic view over the river and inexpensive but tasty food. Tonight we are working our way through leftovers. If it cools off a bit later, we may walk out onto the remains of the old highway deck on top of the railroad bridge, now an observation platform. From there can be seen the massive Lock #19 and the last remaining bit of the Des Moines Rapids Canal.

We drove through most of downtown Keokuk on our way here, and although we somehow missed the statue of Chief Keokuk, I think we got our fill of the town. Today was so hot we mostly stayed inside, which was fine since we both had Red Cross projects to work on, including an hour-plus conference call this afternoon. It was when we wrapped up that call that we decided to just spend another night, not yet knowing that the river had already planned that for us. Tomorrow we may extend yet another day, if it looks like that will buy us a pass back onto our preferred route.

It's good that our plans are very flexible. Yesterday we were unceremoniously booted off the Great River Road in downtown Muscatine by some kind of construction project. The detour, just a block into the riverfront, took us all the way inland to US-61, and, once there, we decided to just stay on that all the way to Burlington, whose eponymous rail line is the forebear of today's BNSF. The River Road would have followed SR-99, which isn't riverside anyway.

Discovering America

We are at the municipal park campground in Columbus, North Dakota (map). There are three pedestals here, each with one 30-amp and two 20-amp receptacles and a water spigot, for $10 per night.

In addition to the "nine" sites, there is a 9-hole golf course, a ball field, a steam locomotive, a playground, a pair of tennis courts, and the veterans' memorial, all in this park. Apart from the crumbling tennis courts and the fact that the greens on the golf course are all rectangular astroturf, the place is nice and well maintained, in stark contrast to the town itself, which is slowly dying.

We walked the four blocks to the center of town last night, and the only two businesses that look to still be operating are a lone cafe and a bar. The place was ghostly empty. Even here at the park, we have been mostly alone. There are two travel trailers here, using the other two pedestals, and they've been here a while, having been mown around several times. I figured them to be mostly stored, as we did not see a soul all day, but last night around 11 two trucks drove up to them. The trucks were again gone this morning when we got up, so these must be a couple of oil workers living here in the park for the short term.

A couple of people came to use the golf course yesterday, bringing their own electric carts with them on trailers. The whole place is unstaffed, and there is a drop box for the camping and another for golf ($6 for nine holes, or $10 all day). Today the maintenance guy is mowing the grass, and it's hard to see how they are even collecting enough money to do that. Apart from one woman slowly bicycling through town, those are the only souls we've seen since arriving just after 5 yesterday.

Today we will continue east, where in a few miles we will connect with US-52 south of the border town of Portal. 52 will stair-step east and south a few times before heading southeast, taking us all the way to Minot. We need fuel, supplies, and a UPS drop, none of which we've seen in many miles, and Minot will seem positively cosmopolitan now.

Last day in Montana

We are at the Bolster Dam park and campground in the city of Plentywood, Montana (map). The campground is "free" with a requested donation of $10, and has water and 30-amp electrical service at the ten or so RV sites.

There does not seem to be any stay limit enforced, and the three rigs near us have been unoccupied since we arrived. Some rigs have heat tape on their water hoses, suggesting they are here year-round. It's a bit annoying that people are just storing their rigs here, presumably for use occasionally. They are taking up nice spaces that could be available for visitors. I would also guess that few of these rigs are donating $10 a night for the privilege.

We had a nice drive here Sunday from Glasgow. About 20 miles north of the city, on Montana 24, we were surprised to see what looked to be a residential subdivision appear on the horizon. As we got closer, we realized they were not houses but something higher-density, and as we got closer still, we could tell many were abandoned. We immediately thought: military housing. When we were nearly abreast of the place, we could see that some units were occupied, and, our curiosity piqued, we turned onto the little access road marked "St. Marie."

We drove a little over a mile into the "town," past the perhaps 8-plex residences and a sign that read "Welcome to St. Marie, Home of the Adventurous." We got as far as the gated entrance to the "Montana Aviation Research Company" (MARCO) with its enormous hangars and giant runway. Later research revealed this to be the former Glasgow Air Force Base, decommissioned in 1976, and the "subdivision" we had seen had indeed been base housing some 40 years ago. MARCO turns out to be a small test division of Boeing, and the town of St. Marie is billing itself as a "retirement haven" with the "condos" in the handful of buildings not slowly crumbling selling for anywhere from $15,000-$25,000. To even get gas or a quart of milk requires driving back to Glasgow.

After reaching the bustling metropolis of Opheim just a dozen miles or so from the border, we turned east onto Montana 248, which generally follows an old railroad grade. We could discern the graded roadbed, but there were no rails nor even ties until we reached the town of Scobey, where our guide said there was a free campground. Even here the tracks had been paved over at the lone grade crossing, though the campground was on "Railroad" street.

The campground was unappealing, with spaces cheek-by-jowl and nearly full. Again many folks looked to have been there long-term and we would guess few were making the requested $12 donation across the street at the sheriff's office. The ten spaces did have power and water, and there was a dump station, of which we availed ourselves. And I suppose we could easily have walked to the one or two eating establishments still operating in the tiny town. But "free" or not, this place was everything we detest about "RV parks," and we decided to keep moving.

A couple dozen miles east of Scobey the apparently abandoned railroad tracks started sporting empty rail cars, mostly piggyback carriers and double-stack container carriers. Soon we realized it was a nearly uninterrupted string of excess rolling stock stored here by the BNSF, and it extended for miles and miles. It was single-track line which dead-ended in Scobey, so the cars had to be pushed here in a single file from somewhere east, and the string was carefully broken apart at every grade crossing -- we could just imagine some really weary brakeman or car-knocker who had to walk the whole dozen miles setting brakes and uncoupling cars.

This campground in Plentywood was also in our guide, and being quite a bit further from town in a much more rustic setting, it was much more appealing. We don't have the drive-by lookey-loos here, and there are perhaps only two or three rigs, ours included, actually occupied in the whole park. The spaces are also more spread out to begin with. We had planned only to spend one night, soak our batteries, top up the water, and move along, but it has been so nice here we decided to just stay an extra day.

That gave us time to knock out some projects, including replacing the wireless router on the satellite system (which, I am sorry to say, did not fix our problem), finish the hot tub installation, dismantle the old hot tub pump box, and pack a whole raft of eBay items for shipment. We also got our Red Cross "homework" done -- updating the Disaster Communications training course materials and writing a technology Quick Start Guide for the upcoming season.

This afternoon we have a Red Cross conference call to discuss the updated training materials, after which we will again start rolling east. We should be somewhere along state route 5 in North Dakota this evening.

On Lake Memphremagog

We are at the Prouty Beach Campground in the city of Newport, Vermont (map). We sprang the extra three bucks for a prime spot on the bluff overlooking the lake, and from our windows we have a panoramic view of fall color around the lake, as well as the city itself.

This campground is a public park operated by the city of Newport, and, at $31 for hookups, it's the most expensive municipal campground we've ever encountered. To be sure, it's a lovely place, and commercial parks in the area are probably a good deal more, but that's a lot to pay when all you need is a place to stop for the night.

As it happens, though, we are now in a part of the country where there are simply no other options. Frankly, parking difficulty is one of the reasons we spend so little time in the east. In this case, there are simply no Elks lodges, Wal-Marts, or even decent truck stops this far north, and the northeast states forbid overnight parking in rest areas and similar locations. Maine even moved earlier this year to ban overnight parking in all commercial parking lots, bowing to pressure from campground operators, but reconsidered after pressure and boycott threats from the RV community. And, of course, many parks, public and private, are already closed for the season here -- this one closes in less than two weeks.

Even though I had hoped to be into New Hampshire last night, the combination of a late start from Burlington, due to our afternoon romp in the city, followed by some very slow roads, meant we had to set our sights on a closer stop. Louise spent a good half hour or so with the directories trying to find even one viable option, let alone a backup, and when this came up, we quickly agreed on it.

Just getting here proved to be something of a challenge. We had mapped out a route across the state on VT-105, but a dozen miles west of here, in Newport Center, we encountered a sign diverting trucks off that highway and south to Coventry on VT-14. Signs throughout the state clearly prohibit any vehicle over 24,000 lbs (we weigh twice that) on anything other than a truck route, so we had no choice but to follow that sign. From Coventry we were directed north on US-5, which itself is diverted for trucks south of Newport onto a bypass road. At one point, we were concerned there might be no legal way at all for us to reach the campground.

Eventually we made it into town, and started seeing signs for Prouty Beach. The most direct route to the campground passes under a 9'11" railroad bridge, but the city has thoughtfully positioned the signs to direct traffic to the much longer route to the north, which bypasses the bridge. No doubt there had been some issues with folks following their GPS directions. By the time we were done with all the truck bypasses, it was past 6 and we were definitely done for the night, rendering the lofty camping fee moot.

We did pull the scooters out to ride back into town in the last of the daylight, and enjoyed riding around and seeing what we missed on the bypass. We rode all the way up the hill to the imposing St. Mary's Catholic Church, a century old, which appears to preside over the town from our vantage here across the bay. There were several dining options in town, but recommendations gleaned from the 'net suggested the East Side Restaurant and Pub, lakeside just a couple of blocks from the campground. The place was packed on a Friday night, with what felt like an all-local crowd.

Today we will continue east on 105, barring any further truck detours, and cross the Connecticut River into New Hampshire, where we will pick up US-3. I expect we will be faced with a similar paucity of overnight options again tonight. The scenery and fall color, however, is spectacular.

Where nothing can possibly go wrong go wrong go wrong

We are at Westworld in Scottsdale, Arizona (map). I keep looking over my shoulder for an animatronic Yul Brynner hunting me down with a six gun.

Westworld is an equestrian and event center operated by the City of Scottsdale, on Bureau of Reclamation land that serves as the emergency flood buffer zone for the Central Arizona Project. Because of the nature of the events held here, they have at least ten distinct RV lots with water and electric, with hundreds and hundreds of pedestals. I'm not certain of the total count, but it is immense.

We are the only rig here. For that matter, we are the only vehicle of any kind here. Whereas, clearly, there are at least a handful of RVs in the myriad commercial parks in the area. I think Westworld is just not well-known in the RV community. It is also probably the case that public RV parking here is not available during events, but, again, I have not really checked on this.

In any case, we are enjoying having the whole place to ourselves. It was well past the century mark when we arrived, and we decided to set up the "hot" tub, fill it with water (from the fastest spigot I have ever encountered -- with only one rig here, park pressure is enormous), and use it as a cold splash pool in the heat.



Ha. Even after running fifty gallons or so out of the spigot first, to fill our water tank, the water coming out was still 100°. We put probably 200 gallons in the tub, and still the spa thermometer read 100° when we were done. Fortunately, it had cooled down to around 94° by late evening, and a quick splash felt good at the end of a hot day.

In addition to the high-pressure spigot (bring a regulator if you plan to use city water pressure here), we have a nice modern pedestal with 50-, 30-, and 20-amp service, and we've been able to run all our air conditioners as needed. Absolutely essential here, or we'd have cooked pets, including the fish (well, OK, the cats might actually enjoy it). There is also free WiFi and a dump station.

We picked this spot because we thought it was close to the Alltel Ice Den, where our niece competed. Little did we know just how close -- a mere three blocks away. Walking distance, if not for the sweltering heat. We pulled the scooters out on arrival, and it was a quick ride there and back both yesterday afternoon (short program) and this morning (long program).

Our niece competed in the 2009 Cactus Classic, a US Figure Skating sanctioned competition that, for her, is out-of-region and thus does not affect her points standing. But it was a great opportunity for her to participate in an out-of-state competition that draws skaters from around the country, and try out some new elements to her routine without penalty. She did not place very highly in the standings, but we thought that both of her programs were beautiful and well-skated.

Now that the competition is over, we are looking into ways to spend the rest of the day with our two nieces and their mother. They have a nice pool at their hotel, but in this weather you can't "hang out" at the pool -- you either need to be in the water, or indoors. We're looking into museums, movies, and scenic drives. Their flight is not until mid-day tomorrow, so we will end up spending the rest of the day and then having dinner with them.

We paid for two nights, and I expect we will clear out of Westworld mid-day tomorrow, destination unknown. I made tentative plans to have a couple of minor issues with the turbocharged looked at by either of two shops here in the Phoenix area, but I am now leaning towards having that work done someplace cooler; the forecast for Monday calls for 112°, and that's too hot to want to be standing outside poking at a hot engine.

Photo by robotography

Power for nothin'

We are at the free city RV parking in La Mesa, Texas (map).

This is one of the great things about west Texas (and many other high plains states between the Mississippi and the Rockies). Not only do these communities welcome RVers by not passing anti-RV legislation (we could easily have stayed at the Wal-Mart here, if that had been our preference), they actively encourage them to visit by providing these nice parking spots.

This one is part of a large city park complex, with a nice playground and a picnic area. The RV parking consists of nine paved sites, each with 30-amp power and water. There is also a dump station, which we don't need since we just dumped Monday, at yet another free city facility in Breckenridge. One can stay here for up to four nights, absolutely free. After that, the city wants to start collecting $20 per night, which is not unreasonable for 30-amp power. The sites are a generous 20' or so wide, and at least 50' long. Last night, it was just us and a mini class-C.

Yesterday we diverted briefly from US-180 to swing up to Stamford, Texas, at the request of our good friend and Red Cross co-worker, Bob Penick. His great-grandfather was one of the town fathers, and we spent some time scoping out the old Penick Hardware store building, right on the town square, that housed the family business for decades. The building is boarded up, but is clearly slated for some sort of renovation -- there is an architect's print posted in the window, and the building is sporting cleaned-up brickwork, brand new gutters and leaders, and a new electrical service.





We also drove over to the rodeo grounds, home to the Texas Cowboy Reunion, where Colonel Penick's name is first on the engraved list of past presidents of the reunion's Old Timers Association, back in the 30's.



After our brief but interesting visit to Stamford, we continued west on state route 92 to Hamlin, home, naturally, of the Pied Pipers. From there we angled back to US-180 by way of farm-to-market road 57. We often marvel at how these "little" farm roads in Texas are in better maintenance, alignment, and grade than many US highways in other states, and they are often posted at 70mph.

Today we will continue west on 180 into New Mexico.

Repositioning

We are at the Lighthouse Beach & Bird Sanctuary, in Port Lavaca, Texas (map), operated by the city. We stayed here once before, over three years ago, and passed right by it just this April as well.

This is a far cry from South Padre Island, which is where I expected to go after Mercedes, even Twittering to that effect. However, this morning's Atlantic tropical forecast made us change our plans.

We've been watching a tropical low known as "Investigation Area 92" (AL922008) for the last couple of days, and, this morning, it looked very much like it would become a bona fide tropical depression by mid-day, with strong potential to develop into a tropical storm. This morning's track forecast models had the storm making US landfall anywhere from the Florida panhandle all the way to the Carolinas, in possibly as little as four days.

Now, Mercedes, Texas is more than 1,500 miles from south Florida, nearly three days' drive for us. South Padre Island is even further -- the only route north out of southeast Texas is state highway 77 from Harlingen, and we'd go right past it on our way to South Padre. So while a couple days R&R there was somewhat appealing (alhough this is really the wrong time of year for it, and there is still a good deal of damage from Dolly), especially spending a day at the Schlitterbahn water park there in the high-90s temperatures, we decided instead to start moving toward Houston, to be in a somewhat better position should AL922008 develop into a tropical cyclone.

Of course, that's exacly what has happened -- AL922008 is now officially Tropical Storm Fay. The forecast models have been updated since this morning, and all models except the BAMD now have the cyclone swinging into the eastern gulf after crossing western Cuba, which would give it a panhandle landfall around Wednesday morning, probably as a hurricane. The NHC has set its official forecast track closer to the BAMD, projecting the storm across the Florida Keys as early as Monday morning. I believe the NHC is simply erring on the side of caution here, and we are watching the storm closely as it proceeds across Hispaniola.

A landfall in the keys would mean we would not only have much less time to get there, but also a lot further to travel. However, the storm would also have less time over open water to intensify into a large threat. In either case, we know we need to be east of here in a big hurry if we are going to be truly useful assets for any response to this event.

We had hoped to make some stops to visit friends in Channelview (east of Houston) and Beaumont as we made our way slowly along the gulf, but it now looks like we will blast out of here towards Louisiana in the morning, unless the storm dissipates or changes track substantially.

In hindsight, we should have continued on 77 direct toward Houston rather than diverting here to Port Lavaca. But we did not get the latest forecast updates until we were here and had the dish deployed, and we were hoping, when we made this decision, that little would come of this storm, and we'd simply continue on along the gulf, perhaps spending a night or so at Galveston Island State Park before heading to Beaumont. Besides, we knew it would be quite a bit cooler here on the water, rather than further inland.

In fact, we took the scooters out for the first time since Wyoming, fired them up, and rode over to the Tropical Bar and Grill for dinner. The seabreeze was pleasant enough for us to eat outdoors on the deck, overlooking the bay.

In the morning, we'll be checking in with the various tropical weather forecast sites before making a final decision on routes. We'll either be in Galveston tomorrow night, or somewhere east of the Texas line, depending on what we find out.

Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys

We are at the free Waylon Jennings RV Park, in Littlefield, Texas (map).

There are eight or so spaces here with 30-amp power and water spigots, and another two dozen on the grass nearby with 30-amp power only. Stays of up to four nights are free in this city-owned park; additional nights can be purchased with a deposit in the iron ranger, or can be arranged through the chamber of commerce.

Littlefield is the birthplace of the famed country legend, and his bootprints adorn a concrete sign here in the park. He also tossed the first horseshoe in the adjacent Fannie Mae Horseshoe Club grounds -- the largest I've ever seen.



This was a perfect stopping place for us. While only 30 miles or so from Lubbock, we got a late start yesterday after all our in-town stops, including a frustrating half hour or so at Best Buy, and a $430 fill-up at Flying-J, where we also took half an hour to top up all the tires.

The free hookups were welcome, as we ran an air conditioner for the first few hours here, and we needed a good top-off on the batteries, which never get "finished" unless we can plug in. We unplugged for most of the night, though, since a whopper of a thunderstorm passed through here. We also stowed the satellite dish while the lightning was close, even though there is a 200' radio tower nearby.



We're topping the batteries back up this morning, as well as drying out from the handful of leaks that are still with us. We are on a leisurely schedule now, since our friend in Colorado is unavailable until the 16th, giving us a full ten days to go just 650 miles. We'll have a couple days to visit, then we need to be in Denver on the 18th -- Louise is flying to California for a few days to help her mom move, and I'll be holding down the fort someplace in the Denver area until she returns.

My visit to Best Buy was for naught. It turns out that the first DirecTV rep I spoke with was incorrect -- it's not possible to buy a customer-owned receiver at such a retail store. So I am back to Plan B, which is to procure a receiver or two on eBay and either use the parts to fix the one I've got, or bite the bullet and have DirecTV send me a new access card. So we'll be TV-less (no great loss) for at least two more weeks, longer if we need the access card.

After lunch we will continue northwest through Muleshoe and cross into New Mexico just past Farwell. We've had a great month here in Texas, and we look forward to returning soon.

Ancient crossroads

We are at the Comanche Trail city park, in Big Spring, Texas (map).

This is an enormous park, with a large public pool (currently closed and empty), a golf course, an amphitheater, a half dozen or so lighted tennis courts, three or four playgrounds, perhaps a dozen group pavilions, the town's namesake spring, a reservoir with fishing, and this tiny primitive campground, with a half dozen sites consisting of concrete/asphalt pads and crumbling concrete picnic tables. Camping is free, with a limit of five nights per month.

Only two of the sites are large enough to accommodate Odyssey, but we've had the whole place to ourselves since we arrived Thursday, other than some local who has pulled in each evening and spent the night in his car, apparently due to some family circumstance. Behind the amphitheater are a bunch of camp-style pedestals (we think for some kind of event that is run there) with spigots and power, and we were able to fill our empty water tank before parking here for the night.

Thursday afternoon we explored the park on our scooters, and learned that the presence of the spring here made this place a crossroads for ancient people and wildlife, and many native American trails intersected here (hence the name of the park). Captain Randolph Marcy "discovered" the spring in 1849, debunking the myth that all of west Texas was a desert and opening the west to emigration by settlers of European descent. Unfortunately, over-development, commencing with the arrival of the railroad in 1881, completely depleted the spring by 1925, and the historic spring is kept full artificially now as a historic monument.

Yesterday we had a visit from Neal and Cali, of GeekBrief.TV fame. They are starting up a new adventure, preparing to go full-time in a yet-to-be-acquired motorhome, and chronicling their journeys in podcasts on BigTrip.TV. In addition to debriefing us on our experience building and living aboard Odyssey thus far, they shot some interview video footage of us which we expect will turn up on the BigTrip site at some point. It was really great to finally meet them in person -- nice folks, and we're expecting great things from them. They also treated us to dinner at local favorite KC Steaks and Seafood (excellent, BTW) -- Thanks, Cali and Neal!

In other news, on Wednesday evening I turned on the TV for the first time in over a week, to try to catch an episode of one of my favorite programs, MythBusters. To my dismay I discovered that the DirecTV receiver had gone belly-up -- the only signal it would provide was a black screen, and the "on" LED would not light, in spite of numerous hard-power-cycles and resets. A call to DirecTV support revealed that my only options were to (a) replace the receiver by purchasing a brand new one, or (b) sign up for an 18-month contract, in which case DirecTV would replace it at no additional charge.

Having nothing to lose, I completely disassembled the unit this morning. All the on-board fuses were good, and the only evidence of any badness that I could find was a swollen electrolytic capacitor. Unsoldering the cap from the board and sticking it on my tester showed the 5,600µF reading only about 18µF, and so I am hoping this is the entirety of the problem. There's a Radio Shack here in town, but I hold out little hope they will have anything close to the right part. The fix for this might have to wait until we reach Albuquerque, the next city of any size that we'll be through.

With no other commitments on our calendar now until the Wyoming Escapade in eight weeks, we decided to just spend another night here in Big Spring, taking advantage of an honest but free camp site and the very pleasant temperatures here. We even got a chance to pressure-wash the bus yesterday, which it sorely needed. In a few minutes, I'll head to town to hunt for capacitors, as well as drop several items in the mail from my latest round of eBay selling.

I expect we will head out tomorrow, heading northwest to Brownfield. Our general plan is to continue northwest to intersect with US60 in Farwell TX/Texico NM, then continue west to Encino, NM, where US285 and I-40 will take us to Albuquerque. From there, we will head north on US550 all the way to Delta, CO, and a visit with our good friend Alfred. After that, things get a bit murky -- what route we take north through Colorado and Wyoming will depend on how much time if left ahead of the Escapade.

East bound and down, eight wheels rollin'

We are in Dumas, Texas, at the free Texoma city park with 50-amp hookups (map).

We pulled into Stewart & Stevenson in Albuquerque yesterday around 4ish, and met with Charlie the service manager, as well as Virgil's buddy Tom. I filled out paperwork and described as much of the problem and what I had already done about it as I could, and they told us to be ready around 8 in the morning. We settled in for the night in the lot outside the shop (map), where we had access to 20 amps of power (enough for us to run one A/C with our load-sharing power system), and were able to put some water in our tank. There was an Applebees a short walk away, and we headed that way for dinner.

This morning they pulled us in promptly at eight, and we retreated to the lounge to wait. After giving them a bit of time to get any questions answered, we wandered off to breakfast around 9 at a nearby cafe.

No sooner had we sat down then the mechanic called on my cell. He had already discovered a problem -- fuel pressure was too high at idle, and he suspected a return line restriction, and he needed guidance on how to access the back of the engine bay. I gave him some instructions and finished breakfast. We were only back at the shop around an hour before they declared the job done. What they found was a piece of debris smaller than a grain of sand. There is a small orifice in the return line, the purpose of which is to keep fuel pressure up at a certain level at the injectors. The debris was small, but still too large to fit through this orifice, and it was clogging the return line. This cause low fuel flow, but also high pressure upstream of the injectors. So the injectors got excessive fuel but also too little cooling (the fuel flowing past the injectors back to the tank is what keeps them cool).

So this turned out to be, we think, the entire source of both the low power with smoke and the overheating complaints. Pulling the grades out of Albuquerque today, we noticed marked improvement in power as well as less heating problems, so we think they nailed it. And we didn't even get a bill -- they had called PEDCO as soon as they found the trouble, and PEDCO took care of it -- Thanks, Virgil! (There's no guarantee this happened during the in-frame, but it's likely -- the debris was too large to have gotten through the fuel filters in normal operation, so it probably landed in there while the line was open in the shop.)

At our first rest stop, we did notice the Fuel Pro was, once again, empty, so we called Charlie. He seemed to feel this was normal with a fresh filter, unless we were experiencing other problems. So we will simply continue to monitor this. Things felt a little sluggish toward the end of the day, but it's been so long since things were "normal" that I no longer trust my judgment. I'm going to put some more fuel in the separator tomorrow and see if it feels any different.

I have not confirmed this yet, but I suspect the return restriction is also the reason our Kysor fuel pressure switch was cutting out the starter prematurely. I still haven't found a replacement switch, so tomorrow I will also put the original one back in and see if it's working now.

We were done by lunch time, and ready to hit the road. After yesterday's call from the Red Cross and their suggestion that we move toward Texas, I looked this morning at the NHC forecasts, and discovered that Tropical Depression 5 had already turned into Tropical Storm Erin and was heading for the Texas coast between Brownsville and Corpus Christi. Worse, it will make landfall tomorrow morning. So we decided, heat or no heat, we needed to get right on I-40 and head east.

We stopped at a rest area just west of US285 (the same place from which I called Charlie) and I called in to the Disaster Operations Center. If they had any idea at all that we might be needed in south Texas, we needed to make a right turn onto 285 and head south towards the Rio Grande valley. The DOC, of course, had their hands full with the Flossie response, as well as preparations in the USVI and Puerto Rico for Dean, but they seemed rather unconcerned about Erin, and we were advised to hold our easterly course. So we did not turn, but continued east on I-40.

Now, in the event of an actual disaster, we are more than happy to slap a Red Cross decal on our window, stay on the interstate, and crank our speed up right to the posted limit, fuel-burn rates be damned. But, absent same, we try to stay off the Interstates if we can. So once the decision was made to continue east, we bailed off I-40 at Tucumcari. We did consider stopping there for the night ("This bus will stop at Tucumcari" -- said in my best Lee van Cleef spaghetti-western impersonation), and checked out the Elks lodge. It did not call to us, so we pressed on.

Once we dropped below about 5,000' elevation, it was clear we would need the air conditioning nearly full-time, and so we focussed our stopover search on venues with at least a little electric power. Louise found this park listed in one of her many resource guides, this one on Texas public campgrounds. What a deal -- 24 spaces with electric power, plus a dump station and fresh water available. Cost: free, but limited to a 24 hour stay. We were able to walk to nearby Placita's Mexican Restaurant for dinner, but we had to bring our own wine -- it's a dry town. Frankly, I'm a bit surprised by the number of rigs here -- Dumas is a long way from anything.

Tomorrow morning we'll take care of the pressure switch and fuel filter, then stop at NAPA for some engine oil on the way out of town. We'll continue east and a bit south, and we'll end our day in Oklahoma or just a bit shy. We'll remain off the Interstate until we approach Oklahoma City, where we will stop for fuel.

Meandering south

We are at the City of Kent's free Naden RV Park (map), really just a handful of parallel-parking spaces next to a strip of grass. There is also a dump station and water spigot here, though, free of charge. The city allows only one night, but it is completely free.

Across the street is a large vacant lot, which current satellite imagery reveals had several houses on it up till fairly recently. A sign advising environmental impact studies underway proclaims the site to be designated for a City of Kent "Events Center." I suspect that the start of construction on the Events Center will spell the end of free city RV parking in this location.

This is the sort of spot that is right up our alley, though the more timid among the RV community would likely pass it by. When we arrived there were two other rigs here, whose age, condition, and appearance suggest that the occupants are also full-timers, but by circumstance rather than choice. The immediate neighborhood is extremely run down, to include the fact that the dilapidated homesteads across the street were, no doubt, condemned through eminent domain. A few structures remain which are entirely boarded up, and one or two ramshackle houses remain in the area in occupied status.

We chose to eat in tonight, but the GPS reveals a number of restaurants just two or three blocks to our east.

Speaking of good spots, last night's digs were A+. Getting to and from downtown Seattle was a snap on the #131 bus, if a bit colorful (as we often find, when riding urban transit systems). We had a great meal at our club, but it was still daylight when we boarded the return bus, as is normal at this latitude in late May. When we got off the bus across the street from the lodge, we decided to walk another half block and do some completely unnecessary shopping at Fred Meyer.

We ended up restocking the wine cellar and buying a few other essentials, but, more importantly, we discovered a decent laundromat in the same plaza, just half a block from our parking space. We were leaving today anyway, so we threaded Odyssey around through the new senior housing complex and past the Bingo parlor, and parked in Fred's lot while Louise did the laundry. In the same lot were also two fast food outlets and a Hollywood Video. We have definitely put this spot on our must-return list, especially when we need to be in Seattle for any reason.

Off-line in Little Rock

No internet access today -- we're under the trees at Burns Park in Little Rock, Arkansas (map). As is usual in such circumstances, I am posting to a file for upload later. I might get on with my cell phone here, although the signal seems pretty weak; otherwise, you'll be reading this when I upload it from our next stop.

We are here because the route plan called for us to stop just a bit further north, and this is the only decent place to stay anywhere near our route with electric hookups. The latter is needed because it is once again in the 90's.

Yesterday was a somewhat irritating day. As is our usual practice, we stayed off the interstates, leaving Tyler on TX155, picking up US59 in Linden, TX, and connecting with US67 in Texarkana. US67 is a narrow two-lane that roughly parallels I-30, and, passing through Prescott, AR on it, we took a hit from either a rock kicked up by, or some debris dropped from, a haul truck going the other direction. The really, really good news is that whatever it was, it missed both the upper and lower windshields. The bad news is that it hit right between them, taking out a chunk of body filler and paint about two inches long and an inch wide. I'll have to fill the divet with Bondo, sand and prime the result, and somehow match the metal-flake black paint in that area to hide the hideous thing. Of course, there isn't really time to deal with this now until after General Assembly. I might touch it up with a black Sharpie until I can get to it.

As if that was not enough, the recurring generator heat-prostration is still with us. Temperatures climbed into the mid-90's in the afternoon, and we just could not keep the genny running. In order to keep the interior from baking, we were running both one roof air and the cockpit air, and any charge depletion at all in the house batteries coupled with these two loads was enough to cause the PathMaker battery combiner to cut out on overcurrent, thus further depleting the batteries as the inverter struggled to run both units. The afternoon was a constant cycle of resetting generator breakers, the inverer itself, and the air conditioner breakers and controls. By the time we arrived here we were very hot and very cranky.

On top of all this, the rear leveler stopped responding once we arrived, so I am in for another crawl under the rear wheels to check on it later. And, finally, we never made it to the grocery store, so we had to fall back on our emergency pasta and clam sauce supplies. At least we still had wine -- a friendly syrah was a nice finish to a cranky day.

Black River Harbor, on Michigan's Upper Peninsula

Yesterday afternoon we traversed the part of Wisconsin that juts out into Lake Superior, after passing through Duluth in the morning. We were on WI-13, after departing US-2. I am sure this peninsula has a name, but I don't know what it is. We ended the day in the lakeside tourist town of Bayfield. We had planned to take the ferry over to Madeline Island, where we read about a nice state park campground, however the ferryman wanted $120 to take Odyssey on a round trip, and we deemed that a bit much for an overnight.

We opted instead to spend the night at the nice lakeside campground, not in any of our directories, run by the city of Bayfield (map). It was beautiful and quiet, though we had some heart-stopping moments bringing Odyssey down the steep park road and under the low trees. The lovely canopy of trees did not diminish our lake view, but did preclude us from getting any satellite coverage.

We unloaded Aquarius and rode back into downtown Bayfield to do the canonical tourist sightseeing and had dinner at Maggie's Cafe. We had thought briefly about boarding the 5:30 Apostle Islands sightseeing cruise, but decided instead to return in the morning with both bikes, and take the ferry over to Madeline for the day, or possibly do one of the island sightseeing cruises.

When we got up this morning, it was pouring rain. Deciding that a day of wet sightseeing and ferry rides on the motorcycles was not really what we wanted, and figuring that the dirt campground road might well turn into impassable mud in short order, we quickly re-loaded Aquarius and beat a hasty exit. While we had been sweating it all night, given that we scraped hard on our way in, Odyssey easily climbed out of the campground with her air bags in the full-up position, and we headed south out of Bayfield. We were thankful for the things we did get to see the previous day, including the Apostle Islands National Lakeshore visitor center, and we will return to visit the islands themselves at a later date.

Today we continued, as far as it was possible, along the southern shore of the lake. Just at the eastern edge of Wisconsin is a turnoff from US-2 that brought us north to the mouth of the Montreal River, with its hydroelectric power plant and a lovely waterfall, Superior Falls. From there we crossed into Michigan along the lake, hoping to camp at the Little Girl Point county park. This park, apparently, remains full all summer, and we ended up returning south to US-2.

Our guidebooks suggested an alternative here at the Black River Harbor area in the Ottawa National Forest (map). It required a 15-mile drive down a dead-end road, but the road is studded with access points to a group of several waterfalls, that we hope to view on our way out. We were rewarded with a lightly-used but well maintained campground, and we were able to grab one of the few "lakefront" sites. It is a perfect spot, and we will probably stay here at least one more night.

A short walk from the campground is a small marina with a handful of sport fishing boats, and a beach accessible by footbridge across the Black River.

We are on a lazy schedule toward Marquette, a few hours east of here, where we will visit some friends Monday evening.

Our wet campsite in Bayfield, WI at the municipal campground. Sean prepares to put the motorcycle away after the rain begins.

North Shore, Lake Superior

We are at the municipal campground on Burlington Bay, in Two Harbors, MN, along the north shore of Lake Superior (map).

Yesterday we diverted from US-53 onto MN-1, a relatively twisty and hilly road (well, for Minnesota, anyway) that loops through the Superior National Forest in the north-eastern corner of the state. That road deposited us on the lake shore at the Tettegouche State Park, which we thought would be a nice place to camp. Apparently, so did many other people, and the place was full by the time we arrived. The lake shore route is apparently a popular summer destination, for campgrounds to be full mid-week.

Our choices were to backtrack along 1 and camp in the forest, or head south-west along the lake shore on MN-61 for 30 miles or so to this place. While this is not really our sort of campground (it is very much like a commercial park, only run by the city), we got a great spot with an unobstructed view of the lake.

Today we will continue along the lake to Duluth and into Wisconsin.

Burlington Bay Campground, owned and operated by the municipality of Two Harbours, MN. Our campsite looks directly over Lake Superior.