Road Trip: Chapter V

Beautiful Babies

If there were a climax to our trip, it was our stop in Maryland to see children and grandchildren.  It was also the turn-around point. Bill's parents had not yet met the youngest one and hadn't seen the other one since she was a wee bairn.  She's still just a tater tot but with more personality and expression than a Disney sitcom and a whole lot cuter.  You'll have to take my word for it or look on my Facebook page.  I've graduated from "Grandpa Jo" to "Grandma Jo" since we last saw them.  Besides good company and good food, we also enjoyed a snow fall from the comfort of their house.  It was a brisk morning but clear roads on our way out of town. 

The Next Ville

So as I was walking into a truck stop "super" store for the umpteenth time for a pit stop, I was trying to remember which state it was that I saw the silliest sign I've ever seen in a bathroom stall.  There was a hook on the door, as women expect, but with a plaque underneath that said, "Hang purse here."  I was thinking, "What on earth else would you do with a hook on the back of a bathroom stall?"  Hang your baby by his overalls?   That would keep him from peeking under the stall at others or touching things on the floor too scary to describe!  Genius!  Honestly, I don't think they give Arkansas women enough credit. 

Back to the car: From North Potomac, MD we made a bee line (well a drunken bee line because there was no straight shot over the mountains) for Asheville.  There we spent a very enjoyable evening with a cousin from the Potter side of my family.  I've always considered myself very Cohen-y looking so I was quite surprised when I looked at this picture and saw how Potter-y I look.  What do you think?

 

 

Asheville's main attraction is an 8000 acre estate built by George Vanderbilt in 1895.  Since the weather was not conducive to strolling through downtown or hiking, this was about our only choice.  It's not that I didn't want to see it, but the entrance fee was outrageous.  Bill and I forked over not just an arm and a leg but some vital organs too for the privilege.  It was beautiful and impressive.  The most fun we had was imagining life through the eyes of Downton Abbey fans - us.  The house was set up similarly to Highclere Castle and the lifestyle seemed to fit the same era. 



Biltmore Estate

Blessings:
Healthy children and grandchildren.
Reuniting with my Potter cousin and family.
Purse/baby hangers in bathrooms.

Road Trip: Chapter IV

The Star of Texas

“If I owned Texas and Hell, I would rent out Texas and live in Hell”
― Philip Henry Sheridan, Union General

Don't get me wrong, I love Texas and Texans, but after driving 600 miles through west Texas, I can picture condos popping up on Lucifer Lane.  Notably, every little town we passed, no matter how small, boasted a Dairy Queen and a Walmart.  There's a contrast between heaven and hell for me right there.  Who knew the spiritual battles going on between El Paso and Ft. Worth?

The highlight of our brief stay in Ft. Worth was reuniting with one of my 3 Cohen cousins after 44 years.  I know precious little about my Cohen genealogy because my dad parceled out words more stingily than Trump doles out tact. 


I hope to see her again and more of Ft. Worth on the way back.








Elvis is in the House

Even though I only remember Elvis as a bedazzled polyester, onesie-wearing entertainer, I've always wanted to see Graceland.  That was my priority for Memphis.  We all enjoyed a history-narrated river cruise on the "Miz-sippi" and a stroll down blues central Beale Street.  Since I was the only one willing to shell out for the tour I was going to go alone while the others chilled in the hotel, but my sweet husband felt sorry for me and tagged along.  He was very glad he did because it was very impressive and fun, and even ran into an Elvis impersonator who made the yearly pilgrimage to Graceland with pious dedication.

The highlights for Nashville were BBQ, music and accents, y'all.  The driver of the free golf cart taxi asked me "Do y'all have a dogue?"  A what?  "A dogue."  Then whips out his phone while driving and scrolls through his pictures to show me his dogue.  A white terrier.  Our regular taxi ride ended up costing more than we planned since my phone fell out of my purse when I got out and had to pay another fare for him to bring it back.  My phone has now taken a plane ride and taxi ride by itself.  I will need to guard it closely on my next cruise as I refuse to send my phone on the Love Boat by itself.

Blessings:
Seeing my cousin.
I got my phone back within the hour.
I don't own Texas OR hell.

Road Trip: Chapter III

Possibilities

Peyton Manning said: "I’m totally convinced that the end of my football career is just the beginning of something I haven’t even discovered yet. Life is not shrinking for me, it’s morphing into a whole new world of possibilities." I realize that retiring a travel trailer is not as significant as retiring a career, but for my in-laws, it is the end of a camping era in their lives, which spills over into our lives, as well, not only on this trip but in the future.  I believe I speak for their 8 children, spouses, 21 grandchildren, and 13 great-grandchildren that we have spent many happy days sitting around the campfire, playing cards, hiking and just generally enjoying their company and generosity.  May this new chapter in their lives bring possibilities and not shrinkage.

But I didn't Inhale

Enough sap.  Since we had to part with the truck and trailer, titles had to be found and obtained in order to part with them legally and financially.  Due to wonderful neighbors, the pink slips were found and dutifully shipped through UPS at an exorbitant price in order to arrive by 10:30 the next morning.  We were driving 8 hours to Carlsbad, New Mexico and had to leave at a decent hour.  We carefully instructed the sender to put mother-in-law's name and our specific camping space number on the package, as well as the address of the resort, who assured us they would accept packages for us. 

Around 10:30 the menfolk went to the office to see if the package had arrived.  The silly girl posing as a helpful employee informed them the package had arrived not 10 minutes ago but she refused it because father-in-law's name wasn't on it.  Understand that when we checked in they carefully recorded all four of our names in the computer, as well as wrote out name badges that we were required to wear at all times (we didn't need no stinkin' badges, but they didn't listen).  Since Bill had a brief stint as a man in brown, he knew UPS protocol was to attempt delivery at the space first, then the office if no one was there.  Plus, he also knew that the desk clerk could call the driver back since he wouldn't be far away.  She promised she would and would give the driver Bill's phone number.  The driver never called. 

Through many phone calls in which I had to put on my bossy pants voice to get them to understand how important it was that we get it NOW and not in 4 more hours as they offered, we finally arranged to meet the driver "very close to where we were," which turned out to be 15 miles away in the wrong direction of where we were going.  Bill and the driver stepped into the Walgreen's parking lot with fingers itching to draw.  They assumed the stance, eyed each other, then Bill took the first shot. 

Bill: I worked for UPS before and I know the protocol is to deliver to the site first.
Driver (with a rude attitude): There wasn't a site number on it.
Bill:  It says 3-155 on it.
Driver (Calling his assistant in for back-up and butt coverage):  Bring me the package. (Looks at package).  Oh, it is on there.  Well we had a bad morning. 
Kablam!

No apology, no admittance of guilt.  That reminds me of a famous line from Bill Clinton:
"When I was in England, I experimented with marijuana a time or two, and I didn't like it. I didn't inhale and never tried it again." –TWO times, but didn't inhale.  When we later asked for a refund of our express package fee, the driver told his superiors that there was no site number on it, therefore we didn't qualify.  Didn't these people watch Little Rascals?  Don't they know that lies always come back to bite you?

Moving On

 
Guess where we are now?  Texas is too big to be the end of a blog.  Next installment: Elvis is in the house.

Blessings:
A little angel is helping us with affordable hoteling.
Still have not gotten rained on despite thunderstorms and flooding around us.
Chalupa-free beds.

Road Trip: Chapter II

Plan B

Of all the things I thought could go wrong with this trip, I never envisioned leaving our little traveling home behind.  In the words of eloquent poets everywhere, "Whodathunk?"  I guess "wrong" isn't the correct word.  More like involuntary revision.  Kind of like when you write a paper that you think is absolutely amazing, A+ worthy even, and the teacher slashes it in cruel, red ink.  It wasn't my plan, but it's a better plan. 

How do I know?  Well first of all, I just heard that storms have ravaged Texas, Louisiana and Arkansas, the very states we would have journeyed through had we not broken down inside of Arizona.  Not just rain, but tornadoes, flooding and torrential rain.  I consider what a merciful God we have to have saved us from that situation. 

Second, even when a wrench is thrown into my plans and I pout and shuffle my feet and hold a pity party (complete with chocolate cake or Ho-Hos or anything else I feel I "deserve"), I know that God has something better for me. 

Now, so much has happened in the last week I believe I will have to break this up into two chapters, rather than give you the whole Megillah.  I left you with a cliff hanger...over the Grand Canyon.  As all who have seen it can testify, it is breathtaking.  The weather, again, praise you Lord, was perfect.  It had snowed an hour before we arrived, but when we got up the next morning it was sunny and lovely, and no wind storm as some had predicted. 

Sunset at Hopi Point

As mentioned before, we stayed in Williams.  It should have been obvious, but the signage was sketchy and we couldn't figure out which way to the Grand Canyon.  Some local yokels right out of a John Grisham novel, complete with long stringy hair and a pickup truck saw us studying our maps.  I guess the cows had already been tipped, because it was apparently hilarious to back up their truck, rev it, drive right at us, then tip back their heads in guffaws.  Back up, repeat.  They did this until we decided to drive off.  These were not teenagers, people.  We then pulled over in a hillbilly-free zone and a nice man pointed the way.

 

The Fate of the Vehicles

 Unfortunately, the truck had to go to the bone yard.  At least the very nice man at Ford found us a salvage buyer and my father-in-law eked a few dollars out of it.  We had some happenstance encounters with other people at the RV park that we thought would turn into a decent sale price for the 5th wheel, but they didn't come to fruition. In the end, the Ford man hooked us up with the RV man and he took it off our hands, although for half what it was worth.  Still, he towed it for us and is generously holding it on consignment. 

 

We will all miss the 5th wheel.  It was very nice to have everything within reach and unpacked.  However, I will not miss the sleeping arrangements.  The first night Bill and I slept on a deflating air mattress on top of a thin sofabed mattress, on top of a stretched out canvas frame.  It was like sleeping in a hammock.  I had to claw my way up to my side of the bed.  We were kind of like a people taco.  Except that we're not as skinny as a taco so we were more like a chalupa.  What's that new one?  A Quesalupa.  That was us: hot, fat, sticky chalupa.  The next night we brought out a bigger air mattress and put it on the floor.  It was more like a tostada - much more comfortable.

 

I will have to finish the rest of this later, but just know that we celebrated when we left the State of Arizona.  In the next chapter...UPS driver from H-E double toothpicks.

 

Blessings:

Good, even perfect weather.

Helpful and honest car salesman (really!)

We don't live in Williams.

 

 

 

 

 

Road Trip: Chapter I

What's All That Smoke?

I promised to try to chronicle my 6,000 mile, 25-day trip from Chandler, AZ to North Potomac, MD and back with the caveat of writing only "if something interesting happens."  In the lingo of Emeril Lagasse: "Bam!"  First the basics:

Vehicle of transport: One 2002 White Ford 250 pickup truck.

Traveling home: 32' Hitch Hiker II fifth wheel.

Passengers:  Me, husband Bill, mother-in-law and father-in-law. 

The weather was perfect as my family picked me up from a weekend with high school friends in Chandler, Arizona.  Bill had driven our truck down to Palm Springs to play golf with a friend, and the in-laws had driven the 5th wheel to Arizona where they all met up in Williams, left Bill's truck and drove to pick me up.  We had driven only about 120 miles on our adventure when the engine suddenly quit and white smoke started pouring out of the exhaust.  Thankfully it died just before a freeway exit that boasted a campground.  We were 40 miles east of Tucson, the last big city, but thought we might find some help in this little hamlet.  The name of said town shall remain nameless to protect the toothless.  That's right, the residents we encountered were very nice and somewhat helpful, but just dentally challenged.  Because it was a Sunday afternoon, the car repair shops were all closed, and strangely enough there were 3 of them right together.  There was some dirt and gravel with "RV Park" posted on it that charged $18 a night. 

When we first drove into town we thought we might try to stay at the RV Gravel Park so we limped into the lot, bellowing increasingly black smoke, dripping a black substance, and emitting a burning stench.  We realized too late that we had pulled into the wrong lot and were trapped.  We called AAA to tow us to the lot next door.  After calling them and noting that there were more dogs in town than people, we thought we'd be better off getting towed all the way back to Tucson.  My father-in-law was especially wary of having some Jethro work on his truck. 

AAA sent Little Doug* of Big Doug's towing.  He was a very nice guy and really went out of his way for us.  He towed the truck to the Ford dealer in Tucson and said Big Doug would come with a hitch for the 5th wheel.  Big Doug showed up after an hour or so and struggled to fit a square peg into a round hole for an hour before he declared he had the wrong kind of hitch and would go get another one.  Three hours had passed by then and we were hungry so we ate dinner in our trailer while we waited for Big Doug to return.  He didn't.  Finally we get a call from Little Doug stating that Big Doug didn't have the right hitch and he would come back with a different truck and tow our camper to Tucson also.  He even offered to have his wife drive us in her car so we wouldn't have to ride in the camper while it was being towed.  We declined his kind offer. 

So me, mom and husband got situated in the camper.  Mom sitting at the table, me lying on the couch (with a tummy ache) and Bill sitting at the end of the couch.  It was kind of like those cartoons when somebody makes a loud noise and the character lifts off the chair.  We fully lifted off the couch several times and dropped back down again.  Mom had to put a pillow on the table to pad her descent back to the table. 

Five and a half hours after our first call to AAA we were settled into an RV Park back in Tucson.  The repair shop is apparently so busy they couldn't even look at our truck today to diagnose the problem, so we decided to upend our trip and go visit the Grand Canyon now instead of at the end of our travels as planned.  We rented a car and are poised to visit that big old crack tomorrow, in the snow even!

We spent months and months planning this trip, but as my father-in-law says about planning ahead, "I don't even buy green bananas."

Blessings: 
We were safe when the engine died.
The weather was nice.
We know a great place for dentists looking for new patients.


*Name changed