NOTE: I had written this in September 2017 but I simply forgot to hit the Publish button.
* * *
This is going to be a diary-type entry about my upcoming trip to
South Dakota and beyond. I have been blogging about little but politics and I
am tired of it. I suspect this blog will exceed 10,000 words and include quite
a few photos. I hope I don’t bore you to death, but some of my friends are
limited in their travel ability and get a kick out of my vagabond
adventures. Perhaps I should make
it a book instead and post it as a .pdf file on my website.
Sept. 5
It is a week before a vacation for Emily and myself. Our primary destination
is South Dakota. We will also go into Wyoming and Montana to visit National
Parks.
South Dakota is my legal “home.” When I left my apartment in Port
Jervis, NY in 2012 to go on the road in an RV, volunteering at state and
national parks. I was technically homeless. South Dakota is a haven for
“travelers” such as myself. With only a mail forwarding company as a legal
address, one can obtain a driver’s license by submitting a current license from
another state, a receipt from a local motel or campground for one night’s stay,
a birth certificate and social security card. The fee for the license was $20
and you had to pass an eye test, all this was done at the local DMV and you
could register your vehicles at the county treasurer. My driving license will
expire with my September 15 birthday so I need to travel there to renew it. A
major advantage is there is no state income tax and new vehicle registration taxes
are just two percent. South Dakota relies so much on summer tourism that its
sales tax goes from 5 percent to 7 percent between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Also,
though I will probably owe no tax for the current year, I can file my NJ state
income tax as an out-of-state resident and pay less.
 |
| The route to South Dakota gives you a choice of taking either I-80 or I-90. I choose I-80 to avoid Chicago traffic. While the miles are slightly longer, the time is about the same. But there are many construction zones along either route. Once in South Dakota, it's I-80 all the way towards other attractions including The Badlands, Wall Drug, Mt Rushmore, Custer State Park, Devil's Tower and Yellowstone. |
You can even vote, though I only use that privilege for national
elections. There are about 12,000 people registered to vote through my mail
forwarding company and though most are like me, there is an understanding that
we will vote as a bloc against people who campaign against things that would negatively
affect RVers. With a bloc that
large, RVers could control the city of Sioux Falls and possibly swing the
election on a statewide basis. But most, like myself, feel unqualified to judge
people who we don’t know. The state is overwhelmingly Republican and
Conservative. However its residents do not really concern themselves with
southern issues. The main political concern is gun control. Much of the
population is farmers and guns are needed to shoot coyotes and other vermin who
attack their livestock. And hunting and fishing are popular.
There are only two “cities” in the state, Sioux Falls and Rapid
City, located on opposite sides of the state. Sioux City is near the eastern
border, and is only minutes from both Iowa and Minnesota; and about an hour
from Nebraska. Its population is about 175,000. Rapid City is on the western
border. It is close to several tourist attractions, especially Mt. Rushmore.
Its population is about 70,000. It’s close to the Wyoming and Colorado borders.
Both cities are closer in appearance to the suburbs of Long Island and Northern
NJ than “real” cities. The tallest building in Sioux Falls is 10 stories and
houses the headquarters of an insurance company. The tallest building was once the local newspaper, from an era when newspapers were thriving. Most of
the six floors are now rented. The state’s entire population, around 865,000, is
ranked 46th of the 50 states, above neighbors Montana, Wyoming and
North Dakota. That’s barely more than the population of Morris County NJ where I
live.
In between are several small towns, farmland (mostly corn, hay and
livestock – the hay is grown for the livestock), prairies and deserts. One of
the more interesting things is huge national grassland that is leased to
ranchers for their cattle. Back in 2014, I got caught in an early-October
blizzard that left 4 feet of snow on the ground. I had no problems even though
the power was out because I had a travel trailer whose batteries gave me light;
and propane ran the refrigeration and gave me heat. But tens of thousands of
cattle died and thousands of bison (wrongly called buffalo) also perished.
Interstate 90 was closed for four days as prairie winds kept whipping snow back
on the road after it was plowed. The place where I worked lost electricity and
they had to throw out food for about a thousand.
I have some concerns, mainly money, about the trip. I only have
about $700 available plus a few hundred in credit. But registering my car will
cost around $300. That would have been enough for me to go to Sioux Falls by
myself to renew my license and registration. When I travelled before, I slept
in my travel trailer at rest stops accommodating truckers. Sometimes I sleep in
the car at highway rest stops. It was rare that I stayed at a motel. I can only
think of once in the last ten years and that was due to a snowstorm. Since I
began working weekends a couple of months ago, I have made a few small dents in
my credit cards, but I am still close to my limits. But Emily needs a motel,
not only for sleep but also her morning showers. She is very fastidious. We have
agreed to split the costs, but this is still going to put me back in the hole.
The added trip to Yellowstone, with up to five more nights is a killer. Fortunately,
my social security and payroll checks will be in the bank just about the time I
will need them the most.
I am also concerned about Yellowstone weather. Snow comes early to
the region. In the two seasons I have been in South Dakota in late September,
part of the park was closed and roads can be hazardous. The forecast for the
next ten days is fine with high temps in the 80ºs and 70ºs, and the lows in the
low 40ºs and high-30ºs. But there is a steady decline over that period. Today,
the high is 84º, but the high in 10 days is 71º. The lows will be in the high
30ºs when we arrive. It’s going to
be close. I will not go into Yellowstone with any snow on the ground at all.
There are way, way too many accidents and people going off the roads even in the
summer. The roads are contoured to the landscape and there are many sharp
curves. In Wall, South Dakota where I spent the summer of 2014, temperatures
were in the 70º on October 1. The next day began with rain that developed into
a four-foot blizzard.
My main reasons for going with Emily are twofold: First, because
she was injured earlier this year and was out for many weeks under disability and thus unable to go on vacation until next
week. She works for a “use it or lose it” company regarding vacation days and
she cannot carry over the days. So now is the only time she can take a
vacation. The other reason is ongoing thoughts I had about sharing the wonders
I saw en route. My travels on the road between 2012 and 2015 often increased my
sense of loneliness when I beheld great beauty. I shared a lot of photos on
Facebook and my blog, but it was still lonely. I strive to understand there is
a huge difference between being alone and being lonely, but the two often
mixed. This sometimes lead to a mild depression. Most of that time I could accept my situation but I frequently wished
either the ex wife or the present girlfriend was with me.
When I was married, we had discussed a summer-long adventure to
national parks. I was teaching and would receive checks all summer. But as we
started to talk about the trip, I wanted to stop off at the Rock & Roll
Hall of Fame in Cleveland. But she was adamant about going to only the national
parks. That ended the trip. I suppose we were both too stubborn. Each of us had
to win. I can’t help but wonder if
we had that vacation if our marriage would have been saved. We hadn’t shared a
vacation in years and the break would have been good for us.
Lately, this blog has been all too much about politics. I
dislike Trump, but there is only so much I can stand about my complaints. I occasionally post something on Facebook, but usually it is to
comment on other’s posts or share a funny image, somewhat akin to the political
cartoons I used to enjoy in the paper. These days, like most people, I rely on
the Internet and cable news for my information so I rarely see a newspaper. Emily
has a subscription to the local paper, The Morris County Daily Record, so she tells me about local things. I
don’t look at it too much because I used to work for it and it is a shadow of
what it once was. I also don't read it too often because, among the many staff layoffs, a classmate of mine was let go after decades of service as a photographer I sometimes wish that some rich person would run it as a
“hobby” and not give a damn about profits. But I can’t see it happening without
it turning into a political platform. Every time there is a major lottery
jackpot, I fantasize about it. Like my writing idol, the late Jimmy Breslin, I
can’t seem to get the old-style newspapering out of my blood. Of course,
Breslin had a lot more talent than I ever did.
One of Emily’s concerns about the trip is my constant battle with
diarrhea. Over the weekend, I had it for two days, practically staying on the
toilet all night. I know, it’s way too much information. But this bout was
especially long and messy. I didn’t make it to the toilet in time and wound up
crapping all over the floor. Thank God it was tile and so I was able to clean
up the mess. I called out sick on Sunday since I was going every 15 minutes.
When I wasn’t going, I scrubbed the ceiling, removing mold that had been
growing there all summer. Emily, who is barely 5 feet tall, couldn’t come close
to reaching it, even on our stepladder. I was recovering from my shoulder
surgery and couldn’t lift my arm above my head until recently. I went on a
“BRAT” diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, tea) and I am fully recovered. But I
only have half a bowel due to an abscess that developed when my appendix burst
several years ago. I’m fairly sure that I can deal with it by strictly
controlling my diet. God invented rest stops and fast food joints for a reason.
:-D !
• • •
Sept. 6
There is a potential problem developing. We had arranged with
Emily’s daughter to watch our dogs while we are away. She now tells us that she
is expecting an inspection visit from her housing authority and dogs aren’t
really allowed, though she lives in a house in the middle of nowhere. Anyhow,
the inspection was scheduled for last week. She was home all day except for
about ten minutes to pick up her son. Naturally, they came at that time. So if
they do come before the weekend, her care for the dogs is fine. Otherwise we
will have to take them with us.
Now we’ve gone on vacations with them last year to Ohio and
Western Virginia; but we have had to pay up to $20 extra per dog at the motels.
Both dogs, especially Pup, shed. I have to use a hand vac on nearly a daily
basis to keep up with them. In addition, most of our motel stays will be
overnight. We can’t leave the dogs in the room to visit someplace if we have to
leave by noon. Our travel plans call for us getting out early most days anyway.
 |
| Pup (left) is my dog and a seasoned traveller but Emily's dog, Bella Mae can go hyper at any time. The cost of taking dogs along is in additional fees. Some motel chains welcome them for an extra $20 EACH, while others won't accept them. |
We can go along with bringing them, but it would be nice not to
have to deal with their care. We both could use a break. A couple of the places
we are going to, especially Mt. Rushmore, do not allow dogs. They are, however,
permitted to stay in the car. At Mt. Rushmore, the parking lot has multiple
levels and putting the car in a lower level in the shade with windows cracked
and a bowel of water gives them a safe enough environment. But there are times if pup sees bison
(not buffalo) he gets a little crazy. I suspect Bella will be worse if, like
the last time I was there, she gets stuck in a bison-filled traffic jam in
Custer State Park’s wildlife loop. She barks like crazy when people pass in
front of the house walking their dogs. I also wonder how she will react to thousands
of prairie dogs at Badlands National Park?
• • •
I rarely iron clothes. For vacations, I usually just toss what’s
in the top of the dresser drawer into the suitcase and go on my merry way. But
South Dakota is different. My clothes generally are tee shirts and shorts with
a pair or two of jeans. But that’s summer wear. Mid September in the Dakotas is
definitely not summer. Summer in the Dakotas often means temperature in the mid
90ºs to the 100ºs in the summer desert. But come autumn, the highs can plunge
into the low to mid 60ºs. It is also the home of the “old west” with Wyatt
Earp, “Wild Bill” Hitchcock and Calamity Jane hanging out there. Tees and
shorts are not only too cold, but also a fashion faux paux.
Thus I am ironing. I think the last time I did so was Christmas in
2015. I have a collection of several “western” shirts from Wrangler. You know,
the ones with two button down pockets. I have short- and long-sleeves in the
same color, no less. Anyhow, they need to look good, along with my rawhide
vest, three sets of cowboy boots, five different western belts, my bolo ties and,
of course, my blue jeans.
The story of my blue jeans started when Emily bought a two pair of
jeans from Kohl’s as a Christmas present. I really liked them. They had pressed
creases and expandable waists. Anyhow, I got sick of the tattered jeans I had
been wearing since my separation in 2010 and bought two more. But when I got to the register, the woman said
I could get 65 percent off if I opened a Kohl’s charge account. Since the jeans
cost $30 each, I could save $39 for the two. So I bought three more pairs -- all
they had in stock of my size. All five cost $81 so I wound up with a bill I
paid off the next month. I had better because they charge 25 percent interest.
Anyhow, I need to press all five along with the shirts in order to
look decent. A few days ago, I took a trip to the local Wal-Mart looking for a
“suiter,” (no not a potential mate). A suiter is a piece of luggage many
businessmen who fly use. It can be hung in a closet and can hold about four suits or other outfits with your underwear and socks on the bottom. There’s
even a place for belts and ties. Anyhow, back in the day when I was traveling,
they were quite common. I couldn’t find one in the store’s luggage department.
They didn’t have them at Kohl’s either and were priced way too high at Amazon.
So I’m back to a suitcase. I don’t really understand. I haven’t worked in an
environment where I needed a suit since the 1980s, but has the business world
gone so freaking casual?
Anyhow, I’m ironed and packed except for personal things like my
medicine, toothbrush, toothpaste, electric shaver, deodorant etc. I have what
we used to call a dopp kit for those. I really miss the luggage I used wile in
the Army. I loved my “AWOL” bag for weekend passes. Everything I owned fit into
a duffle bag, though it got wrinkled. Many motels now have irons and ironing
boards and there is a great coin laundry I used in South Dakota while I worked
summers there. And I am definitely going “cowboy” on this vacation.
Gee, I’ve written more than 2,700 words and I haven’t even started
the vacation. Dear reader, I hope I’m not boring you to death.
September 7
Frank, my friend and former boss loves to tell jokes. We worked
for a Japanese ad agency that serviced Japanese clients such as Canon. He was
the account supervisor and I was the technical//PR writer. This was in the
1980s before the Politically Correct Police began running amuck and making sometimes-senseless
demands.
One of his worst jokes came out of the old west, when Chinese
immigrants helped build the trans continental railroad. Anyhow, Jones, Smith
and Chen were assigned to work on blasting a tunnel into a mountain. The
foreman, Malarkey, said to them: “Smith, you use your pick and shovel to make
holes in the mountain. Jones, you handle the dynamite and blow it in the holes
Smith makes. Chen, you take care of the supplies.” A couple of weeks went by
and Malarky returned to find a great tunnel well underway. “Boys,” he said to
Smith and Jones. “I’m proud of you. This looks like a great Job.” And so Malarkey
enters the tunnel and realizes Chen is missing. He asks Smith and Jones if
they’ve seen him and they say Chen disappeared right after they were assigned
the task. They continue walking to the rear of the tunnel when Chin jumps out
and yells SUPPRISE! (In a fake accent more Japanese than Chinese).
What is the point of all this? Because on Tuesday night Emily had
a real surprise. She had just come home from the doctor and she had to share
something important. She was pale and nearly trembling. I immediately thought
that she had a life-threatening disease. She didn’t. Months ago, she had a bad
fall and received a horrible wound to her knee. She was hospitalized twice. The
second time happened when her doctor tried to postpone and appointment. I took
a picture of the injury, which as you see was horrible, then barged into his
office showing him the photo.
Thank God for smart phones. The doctor took one look at
the photo of the wound and ordered her right back to the hospital.
That was months ago. Since then, she’s been seeing a number of
doctors, including one who specializes in wounds. This doctor will drain and
clean the wound. His hours are limited and he does not do evening hours. Emily
has had to leave work early every week for her appointment. Two weeks ago,
realizing it was a financial hardship; he said to skip a week. But Tuesday
night when he cleaned the wound, he found an infection. This is serious stuff
and Emily will have to see him every week. This voids out a trip west.
SURPRISE!
The good part is that it is not life threatening. But there is no
way she can go on a nearly 4,000-mile road trip. That means two days of driving for each day of sightseeing. We’ve done
trips to Massachusetts, Virginia/Pennsylvania and Ohio for a week, but because
I am working weekends, we will probably have to stay fairly close. The fall
foliage of the Poconos and the Catskills seem likely. It’s too late to do the
Jersey shore. Emily hasn't been to New York City in quite a while. Sightseeing, a ball game, a show and other attractions seem like a good idea; and the senior discount on the train is far less than a motel.
In the meantime, there is still the original reason I wanted to go
to South Dakota. My driver’s license is about to expire. I need to renew it.
And there is a problem with doing it in New Jersey. In 2010, I tried to
register a car in Jersey. In the middle of a bitter divorce, I was living
(actually tent camping) in the New Jersey area I grew up in. I was going to use a friend’s
address. However, when I attempted to do so, I discovered that sometime in the
early 1970s that my driving privileges were suspended. From my memory, there
was some sort of problem involving a minor accident where I paid the other
person for the door handle I hit instead of going through my insurance company.
Anyhow, I had to drive more than 100 miles to Trenton, the state capital, to
resolve the problem, which it was. Shortly afterwards, I moved to New York and
held a license from that state for more than three decades. Anyhow, I was told
I had to go to either Wayne or Trenton to straighten out the problem. I suspect
that as things became computerized the problem wasn’t properly entered. About
the same time, an apartment opened up in the senior citizens housing in Port Jervis,
NY. The town borders New Jersey and Pennsylvania and so I kept my New York
license and registered the car there.
So, to make a long story short, I don’t know if I would be able to
straighten the problem out by next week when my license expires. In addition, I can't find my birth certificate that I would have to present.
I am going to
renew in South Dakota for several reasons:
- •It’s perfectly legal.
-
The state has no income tax
-
Auto insurance rates are lower
-
I only have to renew the license every five years. By the
time the new one ends, I probably won’t be doing any more driving.
-
It’s been more than three years since I’ve been on the road
by myself. I want to go take photos.
I expect that I will eventually get a New Jersey license. But it’s
too close to the expiration date to try to do it now.
So, I have my bags packed with newly-ironed clothing. I’m still
trying to figure out everything, but I know I am going. It will be a lot less
expensive as I will use a coupon for a free night at a Red Roof Inn and
probably sleep in the car other times. I’m also thinking of buying a cheap tent
and sleeping bag and camp in state parks. But it’s been seven years since I’ve
done that and the body will be 70 years old in eight days. Perhaps I’ll
compromise and sleep in the car at a campground.
Right now, everything is subject to change. I have thought about going
to the reading of the names at the World Trade Center on Monday, but can’t
figure out if I can get to Sioux Falls on time. There’s also a part of me that
says if I start after work on Sunday, I can make it to the Ohio border in
about eight hours and stop to sleep in a rest stop around midnight. There is the
possibility of Hurricane Irma going up the east coast and I don’t want to be
around if it happens. It seems the thousands of dollars I spent knocking down
Emily’s huge front-yard trees might pay off. Emily has in-laws near Scranton she can take
refuge with if needed. The closer the day to leave arrives, the more eager I
am.
FYI 1200 miles each way = 2400 total miles ÷ 35 mpg = 69 gallons x
$2.50 per gallon = $171 gas costs. There will also be about $30 in tolls.
Sept. 9
Forget about leaving Sunday night. The Cowboys and Giants are
playing! Go Big Blue!
There are also a few things I need to do on Monday before leaving
anyway. I have to make a deposit in my bank account and then drop off some
paperwork with my local school district.
Then I’m off. I expect to be in Sioux Falls by Wednesday night,
which is about 500 miles a day. Including breaks for gas and food, that’s about
10 hours. My usual trek is about 400 miles per day.
I am very relieved that the Hurricane is apparently heading
inland. While I know it will devastate Florida and Georgia, at least it won’t
head up the east coast as Sandy did a few years ago. I did not want to leave
Emily alone and I would have been very concerned about Matthew, my youngest
son, who lives fairly close to the coast on Long Island.
The people I care about in Florida have a good chance of losing
their homes. Larry is in the Miami area and major flooding is expected there.
He decided to head inland, so naturally, the path turned right into his
direction. Joyce is in Sarasota, which is located just south of the Tampa-St.
Pete area. She reports that people are boarding up their homes and plan to ride
out the storm. Her friend, Rhys, runs an animal rescue operation and is
terrified for both herself and her animals. I don’t blame her. In the islands
where the hurricane has already hit, 15-foot waves have washed children out to
sea, not to mention many pets.
A good number of people on Facebook are showing maps with Mar Del
Lego, Fearless Leader’s golf course, urging the hurricane to hit there. I find
this type of humor is awful. Even if the storm headed directly to D.C.,
Fearless Leader would be in Air Force One getting his ass out of the way. But
Mar Del Lego has many common people working and living there. I’m sure they
will face horrible conditions.
Frankly, my lifetime has seen quite enough weather issues. I’ve
been in many hurricanes including the “three furies” of 1954 when Carol, Hazel
and Edna hit New Jersey hard within 10 days. The last one, Edna, knocked a tree
through our roof. I’ve been in a tornado in New Jersey and at Ft. Knox, KY. I
was in the path and eye of Gloria right after we moved to Long Island and had
no power for two weeks – on Long Freakin’ Island. A few years ago, my trailer
was just outside of Tampa when tropical storms shook it like it was a pair of
dice. A few miles away, a trailer park was completely demolished. It was also buried
in a massive blizzard that dumped 4 feet of snow on it in Wall, South Dakota.
The town couldn’t open its emergency shelter because the snow had drifted so
high that they couldn’t open the doors. A nearby motel had drifts cover the
entire first floor. People were trapped in their rooms for more than 24 hours.
And Interstate 90 was closed for five days due to drifting snow. My memories of
the blizzard were part of a book that was published the next year Tens of
thousands of cattle perished, as did about a thousand bison (buffalo).
Yeah, I’ve had enough. Even the threat of a hurricane puts me into
the “get out of Dodge NOW” mode.
Facebook has a live feed of CNN’s storm coverage. I’m writing this
about 5 p.m. and the storm isn’t expected to hit land for several hours. But
Lord help those who are in its path.
Sept. 11
This day, like Dec. 7, 1941, marks a day that also lives in
infamy. There have been other dates that have shaken my generation, mostly
November 22, 1963. But today is extraordinary for me because I was in New York
City that day. I was teaching at a middle school in the Bronx. I’ve posted
blogs about what I experienced, but what I will say is that looking towards Yankee
Stadium from a third floor window, we saw smoke and it appeared that the
stadium was erupting. It was, of course, the World Trade Center.
I was torn between spending the morning at ground zero listening
to the names. Being there is something on my “bucket” list but I had to make
decisions. Before actually leaving, I had to go and deposit a check. I had to
drive about 10 miles in the wrong direction because it at was the only credit
union that is in the same network as my credit union. Otherwise, I would have
to go to Long Island.
And so, after a short trip East, I began my westward journey. Stop
number one was Columbia, NJ, where there is a truck stop off I-80. Gas in New
Jersey has always been cheaper than in Pennsylvania, so I filled up. But the
difference is much smaller than it used to be since New Jersey added another 23
cents to its gas tax.
But I also decided to do a little sightseeing on my route. So I
decided to go over to the Delaware River at Kittanny Point. It’s
along the Delaware River just before on crossing over into Pennsylvania. This
place is often called the Delaware Water Gap, a place where the river has
carved deeply through the Pocono Mountains and Jersey Hills. A portion on the
Pennsylvania side was blasted back to accommodate railroad trains. As a young
man, I thought it would be pretty cool to climb that cliff.
 |
| The Delaware Water Gap borders New Jersey and Pennsylvania. I frequently went through the area on canoe trips when I was much younger. Once, the group I was with actually camped out under the nearby bridge that crosses the river. |
Fortunately, never
having an opportunity to do so overcame my complete lack of climbing training
and my early suicide leanings. But it is still a pretty place and every time I
pass through I enjoy the beauty. And so, a few minutes were taken for a photo.
I think I took most of the photos today to share on Facebook so people could
share this road trip.
After a few moments of enjoying the solitude and the sound of the
water, it was time to get back in the car and make the crossing. Right into the
Pocono vacation region. Now my memories of this area have much to do with my
life circa 1974. For a while I worked in the mountains photographing
honeymooners at the area’s famous couple’s resorts. I remember taking the first
wife horseback riding. And the second one went clubbing with me one extended
weekend. But that was a long time ago. I drove along State Highway 611 and
realized the region was no longer the same. In Bartonsville, there was a truck
stop that served great lamb stew. It isn’t there any more. How can you bulldoze
a truck stop where there is so much trailer traffic, especially when there are
no full service rest stops in New Jersey? Bartonsville also had a great Holiday
Inn where I once had a great steak dinner. It’s now a Howard Johnson motel and the
bar remains, but not the restaurant.
I drove a few more miles into Mt. Pocono. Once a small village, it was
impossible to find the photo studio I worked out of. The town is full of strip
malls and a few big box stores. A part of my past has been trampled by
commerce.
Driving further into the state, I stopped at Hickory Run State
Park. This place also holds many memories. The first time I was there was in
1967. I had decided to go wherever my whim would take me. I camped there for a
single afternoon before I accidently cut my hand with a brand new but dull
hatchet. Who knew that I needed to sharpen it first? Anyhow, that vacation
ended with me heading back home to my hometown hospital with my tail between my
legs for a couple of stitches. Other trips have been far more enjoyable. The
next year my friend Bill and I did some tent camping for a week. It was then we
discovered the park’s main attraction, Boulder Field. Boulder field is where a
glacier finally stopped coming south during the ice age. The field littered
with boulders for miles.
 |
| Boulder Field at Hickory Run State Park is the result of where an ice-age glacier stopped moving and melted. I forgot how long a n unpaved rocky road it was to get there. |
Other times, I have brought my family there and, about five years
ago, Emily. It is a place of many memories for me. But one thing I did not
remember was the extended drive to reach the field. My GPS described it as an
“unpaved road” and it was fifteen miles of rocky roads to get there and back. I
sort of feel funny about haven taken three women I loved to the same place, but
it is a place that is unique and majestic. I was quite pleased to see that the
graffiti that was on the boulders when I was last there has been cleaned up.
I was there, thank God, all by myself when my first bout of diarrhea
happened. I won’t describe what happened, but suffice it to say that I had to
stand naked in the field while I cleaned up and changed my clothing.
Anyhow, it was a single incident and I managed to continue my
journey cleaned up.
The next stop was Bellefonte, in the heart of Appalachia. In 1975,
I became the editor of a weekly newspaper. It was a good gig while it lasted,
but the paper just didn’t have the financial backing to save it. I looked at
the office where I worked and the apartment building where I lived. My son,
John, was probably conceived in that building.
Bellefonte is French for “beautiful fountain, and there is a
stream that runs through the town. I stopped and photographed it, remembering
how I once covered kayak races down the waterfalls and into the town on a stormy
day when waves were quick to tip races over.
 |
| Bellefonte, PA was named after this stream which runs through the center of down. The name is French for "beautiful fountain. I was the editor of the local weekly newspaper there in the mid -1970s. and sometimes photographed kayak races that began on the top of the falls. In springtime, the melting snow for the mountains made the stream quite difficult to transit. It is found at Talleyrand Park, the outdoor hub of the town where many activities and family reunions are held. |
Leaving town, I went by the county courthouse. When I lived there,
a teenage rite of passage occurred every Friday and Saturday night as cars
cruised around the town square yelling at one another and hopes of getting
lucky filled air. I suppose it was just like the California town portrayed in
the “American Graffiti” movie.
 |
| On ka small-town Saturday night, the teens went crusin' around the square surrounding the Bellefonte courthouse. It was like a scene straight out of "American Grafitti" which was released a year earlier.. If the name or the scene is remotely familiar to you, this is also the site of the Penn State football sex scandal trials which began in 2011. |
If you look at it and have a vague memory of
seeing it once before, you may have. It was the site of the trials involving
the Penn State football sex scandal from a decade before. I remember seeing the
news showing television vans around the square. Frankly, the town does not have
much parking and I wonder how it dealt with the media circus. State College, the town
where the university is located, is next to Bellefonte and on a football game
day, it’s nearly impossible to get through town due to traffic heading to
Beaver Stadium.
It was getting dark and my memories were more than I could write
down. I remember photographing lots of “country” events such as a fire
department bar-b-que and a sandwich sale by the high school band. I regularly
went to the animal shelter to show a “pet of the week” for adoption. Once, I
brought the ex and I had to practically tear a couple of kittens from her
hands. She wanted me to adopt them.
And then there was the Grange Fair. It’s basically a county fair,
but hundreds of people camp there during the 10 days it is held. It’s like a
giant family reunion (of which there are many in that region). I had to do a
special Grange Fair Edition and walked around handing out copies to each tent.
I also had my own tent at our exhibit to camp in.
Night fell and I drove away. I always thought I had unfinished
business there, but realized it was so long ago and far away that there was no
more business. The newspaper was no more and it was more than three decades since I knew the people there. I'm sure many of them are dead.
I got through the 315 miles of Pennsylvania and onto the Ohio
Turnpike. The Turnpike is actually a merger of I-90 and I-80 and is a toll road
both in Ohio and Indiana. I managed to get through three of the many rest stops
in Ohio before pulling in and sleeping. I was on a fairly tight budget,
especially since Emily did not come along and share the costs. In my travels, I
have often slept in truck stops and rest stops by simply climbing into the
travel trailer I was hauling. This time I was sleeping in the car though. To
save on food, I had bought several cans of Chunky soup and had them for
dinners. I tried to avoid the fast food of the truck stops, and I made it a
habit of eating at Perkins when I could. They have a nice senior citizen menu,
though I wish they hadn’t taken meatloaf off the menu.
Sept. 12
This is a day with nothing to do but drive and stop for rest.
After I awoke, I made it two rest stops (perhaps 60 miles?) and was so tired I
took a nap. So I really didn’t begin to drive until the early afternoon. One of
the decisions I made was to avoid I-90 after the tolls ended. It heads to
Chicago and I wanted to avoid the traffic. I figured I would pass through
during the evening rush. I’ve been in Chicago a few times on business and my
son went to college nearby. I couldn’t stand the traffic, no matter what the
time. And so, I vowed to stay on I-80 as I passed through Ohio, Indiana and
into Illinois. Naturally, I got lost on another interstate highway and it took
me about an hour of going through heavy traffic in the now dark as I found my
way back. I then pressed through Illinois and across the Mississippi River into
Iowa where after about 13 hours of driving somewhere around 800 miles with many
rest stops, I ran out of steam and fell asleep at a rest stop. In case you
haven’t guessed, sleeping in a car can be quite uncomfortable, especially for
someone like myself who does a lot tossing and turning. I woke up often and couldn’t
really get a good sleep. I keep on thinking that the mattress in my long-gone
travel trailer would feel soooooo good. That was a great mattress. It lasted me
through six years and five different trailers. It was even better after a
friend bought me one of those foam toppings. But now, I kept on waking up
cramped and needing to go to the bathroom.
My fitful sleep finally ended with me opening my eyes sometime in
the morning. I have parked in front of a box of beautiful white flowers and I
realize that this rest stop has a theme for the local area. In this case, corn.
Iowa is basically a prairie state, as are most of the states west of the
Mississippi River and east of the Rocky Mountains. Corn is the major
agricultural product of these states along with cattle and hay to feed the
cattle.
Breakfast was simple, a bagel, V-8 juice and some peanut butter.
Alas, I sometimes have eaten fast food. I have decided that French fries are a
major cause of my bowel issues and I may also have a problem with milk. Having
recently purchased three boxes of Cheerios while on sale, that could be a
problem. I suppose when I return, I’ll find a food pantry for them.
And so, to paraphrase Lewis and Clark, I proceeded on. You have to
understand that when I say most of Iowa is corn country, I mean it. I traveled
through endless miles of corn fields.
Somewhere about midway through the state, my be- damned GPS
advised me to take a northern route. Now my plan had always been to go the way
I did before, namely along I-80 to I-29 on the western end of Iowa that would
lead me into Sioux Falls. I was looking forward to driving along the Missouri
River between Iowa and Nebraska along I-29 as I made my final part of the trip.
But the GPS had other ideas and I. decided, what the hell? At
least I would see a different part of the country. So I turned north. A little
way north I realized I was near where they shot the “Field of Dreams” movie. You
have to understand that this film’s ending always, always, always leaves me in
tears and blubbering for at least an hour. For those who aren’t familiar with
the movie, this Iowa farmer is told to build a baseball field in the middle of
his corn. The ghosts of many famous ballplayers come to play there including,
at the end, the farmer’s father. The father is young and vital, unlike the time
when the farmer knew him. They were estranged for many years and wind up having
a catch. I vividly remember the games of catch my father and I had. You see,
before I was born, he was injured in an auto accident. His arm was badly
damaged and was permanently set into a position as if he was wearing a sling.
He could not bend his elbow. Yet despite this disability, he managed to have
catches with me, often dropping the ball. I never realized what was happening
until after he died and the thought of once again playing catch with him,
especially as a whole person, brings me to a crying binge. Even as I write
this. My eyes are tearing up.
I plugged it into my GPS and discovered it would take me 200 miles
out of my way. The day was already in mid-afternoon so I continued onward.
Perhaps if I did not have the stress of needing to renew my license by my
birthday in a few days, I would have made the side trip. Maybe next time,
though frankly I doubt if I could handle another trip of thousands of miles.
And so, I continued to head north, waiting for whatever highway
would bring me west into Sioux Falls. I suddenly realized the damn GPS had actually
taken me into Minnesota and the I-90 I had avoided. I was actually closer to
Minneapolis than Sioux Falls.
At least I knew where I was and about two more hours of driving
brought me into the Red Roof motel in Sioux Falls. I was very tired from the
driving and also from the frustration of not going the way I planned. But after
checking in, I calmed down and realized this can be the way life is. I didn’t
enjoy the unplanned moments and shame on me.
The first night was free as a result of Emily’s joining the Red
Roof rewards program when we vacationed in Virginia and Ohio last year. I paid
for a second night as well. By now, I was sick of eating out of the grocery bag
and went to the nearby Perkins restaurant for dinner. They have a number of
really good senior meals, though I miss the fact they removed the meatloaf from
the senior menu. Perkins does great baking. One of their specialties is a
no-sugar-added wildberry pie and I took home a slice for dessert.
And then I went to sleep in a bed for the first time in days. Yet
I still kept waking up. Half the time I thought I was awake and the other half
I thought I was dreaming. My mind would go off on trips completely unrelated to
either being awake or whatever I was dreaming. Still, it was better than
sleeping in the car. But when I awoke it was nearly noon.
September 10
It’s a day to take care of business. I have to renew my license.
But before I would go to do so, I decided to pick up the mail from my mail
forwarding company. There, I was told, for the second time, that I would need a
birth certificate to renew the license. But they were absolutely wrong. The
card I got from the DMV said it wasn’t needed. I also got a birthday card from
the governor that day with a reminder to renew my license. That card did not
say I needed a birth certificate either. Yet, they insisted they were right.
They weren’t. But I was glad that when I got to the DMV that while
I didn’t need a birth certificate, I did need mail from my mail forwarding
company to confirm that I did, in fact, get my mail there. The only other ID I
needed was my old license and a receipt from the motel. But there was one thing
I had to do. And that was passing an eye exam. And I was barely able to do so
after about six attempts. I explained that when I returned I had to see a
retinal specialist and then was having cataract surgery and the woman kept on
giving me additional chances. I knew my eyesight was having problems but I
didn’t realize how bad it was. I realized later in the day that I couldn’t read
many street signs or exit signs on the highway. I am hoping that certain
problems will stop. My retinal doctor told me that the problem with my retinas
could be reversed if I got my sugars under control, and I have since the day
after. But I am, frankly, a potential danger to others. On the way home, I
realized that the glare of the sun made it harder for me to see. It was
difficult to read my GPS when it used smaller type to indicate a direction. I
did far better at night.
But I remained seriously annoyed at my mail forwarding company.
When I originally started to use them in 2011, they had different ownership and
a small staff. Their location was in the heart of the city. Now, under new
ownership, they have moved about as far out of the city as you can get without
actually leaving town. It’s kind of like moving from downtown Manhattan to the
Queens-Nassau border in New York City. You’re still in the city, but not
really. Between that and the incorrect information, I was peeved. I suppose it
was because I had driven more than 1,300 miles to do take care of business. The
old company was a bastion of information about South Dakota rules. The new
company, not so much. When I called them to tell them they were wrong, they
told me it was not their responsibility to know about the laws. The old owners
did to the point where they even registered me to vote.
Now all this is trivial. Everything worked out in the end with a
minimum of aggravation. But I simply couldn’t let go of the aggravation. The
only person it hurts is myself, but I really need time, perhaps too much time,
to calm down many times.
I then went to register my car. In South Dakota, you get your
license from the state, but you register your vehicles with the county
treasurer. I had not re-registered the car since I purchased it. Until last
December, the county would not accept anything but cash or a local check to
register the car. I tried to go on line to do it but, after putting in a
password, all I got was a black screen. Anyhow, I was delighted to find I only
had to pay about $80 instead of the $300 I had anticipated. Car registrations
are based on the vehicle weight and there was quite a difference between my
Dodge Ram and my Ford Focus. I also forgot the last time I paid to register the
truck I also registered the trailer and both cost me more than $300.
It was interesting to see people outside of both offices urging me
to sign petitions. I wasn’t sure if I was registered to vote – I was – at the
old mailing address before the mail forwarding company moved. At the DMV, they
wanted me to sign one opposing “government corruption.” It turned out it meant
you had to show photo ID to vote and I am opposed to that. There are many people,
who don’t want, or need, a driver’s license. Take the people who live in New
York City. With mass transit covering five boroughs, why would you need to
drive? And who wants to go through the hassle of getting a state photo ID when
you have to show a birth certificate and proof of residence? To me, voter fraud
is a non-issue despite what Fearless Leader said during the Presidential
campaign. And if some illegal aliens managed to vote in the last election, good
for them. They live and work here too.
The other petition was much more interesting. A stoner, who was
definitely high, wanted me to sign one making marijuana legal. I told him that,
as an elder in my church, I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to sign it,
though I was sympathetic to his cause.
So anyway, my motor vehicle issues completely straightened out,
left me an evening to sightsee. There is only one place I wanted to go, Falls
Park. Sioux Falls was named after the waterfalls along the Big Sioux River that
runs through the heart of town. They are beautiful at any time, but especially
at night when they are illuminated. During the day, Falls Park is much like New
York City’s Central Park on a much smaller scale. It’s a place to jog, sit and
relax, make out, picnic and more. I’ve even seen a few weddings performed in
front of the falls. Every Fourth of July, the town holds a free bar-b-que
picnic for residents.
At night, the falls are lit up creating a surreal scene.
Photographing them requires a slow shutter speed and you can obtain a flow of
motion from the water.
In addition, the park has some historical significance. The Lewis
and Clark expedition explored the area and in the 19th century, the
falls were used for manufacturing and an electric generator.
I choose to live in Northern New Jersey because its where I am
near people I care for and it is the area I grew up in. I feel safe here after
a lifetime of personal turbulence usually caused by my own actions. But if I didn’t
feel that way, Sioux Falls is certainly a good place to live. Housing and food
are cheap, and so is rent. There is no state income tax and auto insurance
rates are low too. The place has all the shopping you could want and there are
plenty of cultural events. The downtown area has been revitalized and filled
with restaurants and interesting shops.
One of the main industries in South Dakota is tourism. It has
Badlands National Park, Mt. Rushmore, Wild West towns, Native American
reservations and some truly wonderful state parks. And so, the sales tax is
raised during tourist season (Memorial Day to Labor Day) from five to seven
percent.
Anyhow, my visit to Falls Park ended, I headed back to the motel
for a decent night’s sleep as I realized there would be quite a few more days
of sleeping in my car ahead.
Sept. 15
It’s my birthday. I am now 70 years old. There is a significant
difference between my last landmark birthday at age 65 and today. Five years
ago, I had a wonderful celebration with my son and his family, especially my
granddaughter. I was volunteering at an Oregon State Park along the Columbia
River Gorge. My granddaughter was crazy about trains and we had many of them
going past the park as part of the Santa Fe line. She had a ball and then we
went to a railroad themed restaurant for dinner. I remember my granddaughter
ordered just a single pancake for her meal, but when it arrived, it was the
size of a small pizza and packed with fruit.
This year, I am alone – by choice I suppose – as I had to make the
trip to renew my license. But there is a difference between being alone and
lonely. And I was pleased to discover dozens of birthday wishes on Facebook. In
our age of technology, I suppose social media has replaced the analog concept
of sending birthday and holiday cards. But that’s part of the change in our
culture. A lot of people wish we could go back to earlier times when things
were “simpler” but in reality, those times had challenges of their own. And no
matter how much people want to return to those times, it isn’t going to happen.
A lot of Trump’s supporters wanted jobs back in the auto and coal
industries to return. But they won’t. Our vehicles are built by robots, not
humans. And coal is stripped from the ground now. People rarely go into tunnels
anymore.
But I can relate to those people. Much of my time over the last
decade has been a personal exploration of my middle and high school years.
We’ve had 50th year reunions and the ability to communicate with
others. Why do I do this? Because there was a time when I felt safe, secure and
part of something and then my life turned into chaos. I have contacted many
people I knew from that era as a touchstone. I have learned about the lies I
believed for so many years and to accept the truths. If I were to describe
myself today, I would be a food-addicted diabetic whose savings have
disappeared. I am mildly bi-polar and that has led me to problems. On the other
side of the coin, I am a caring person who enjoys being of service to others. I
can live with that.
Anyhow, I’m heading south on I-29 with a destination of I-80, not
I-90. I am steadfast in this and will not divert from my plans no matter what
“Nagatha,” my name for the GPS, suggests.
The ride starts out quite nicely. The weather is great. It’s going
into the upper 80ºs with a slight breeze. It is a longer drive south than I
remember and I decide to stop in Vermillion. It is the home of the University
of South Dakota and I saw a very interesting piece of sculpture located there
when I browsing Facebook. As I pulled into town, I spotted a Wal-Mart. Unlike
in New Jersey, many Wal-Marts have auto service centers. I needed an oil
change. I was already several hundred miles past due.
So I drove up to the door and seeing no other cars, I figured it
would take about an hour. I shopped inside and also ate lunch. I waited in the
waiting room and checked outside after well over an hour and couldn’t find my
car. Assuming it was finished, I went to the counter only to discover I had
about another hour to go. Unlike when I ran the auto service center at a couple
of Wal-Marts about a decade ago, they don’t line up the cars, but rather park
them. I still had a few cars ahead of me so I pulled out. It was a waste of
time and I was unable to find the sculpture I wanted to see.
Back on the road again, I continued to head south to Omaha. I had
expected to be able to pull over to photograph the Missouri, but road
construction blocked the side of the road and I was unable to do so.
I began to see signs for Omaha. I had passed the city many times.
In 2012, I visited Newcastle, Nebraska, which was across the Missouri from Vermillion,
which was a pleasant surprise. I had merely wanted to cross the state border to
claim I had been there, but I discovered a geographic change. In that area,
South Dakota is flat, corn country while Newcastle is hilly and you can see
much cattle farming. As I thought of that, I finally realized that Omaha had a
famous product – it’s steaks. There is a national company called Omaha Steaks,
but I also remember the second episode from The West Wing television series
where some team from the University of Nebraska visited the White House and the
president had a fit because his secretary hid the steaks they brought him under
doctor’s orders. It’s amazing what trivia one remembers.
Anyhow, I crossed the Iowa border and then drove over the bridge
into Omaha and saw a sign pointing me to the “old market district.” When I
reached it, I asked the GPS to give me the names of steakhouses and the closest
one was Sullivan’s. I drove up to it and the place looked interesting, taking
up the entire main floor of an office building. I entered and it had a distinct
Gay 90s feel to it. In front was a picture of John L. Sullivan, the boxing
champion from 1882 to 1892. The restaurant was named in his honor, but he never
owned it.
As I write this, I suddenly realize that the term “Gay 90s” had a
tremendous difference in 1990 than 1890. I don’t believe I’ve heard the term in
years.
The Gay '90s term was used in popular culture
to describe American social life in the1890s. No, not the "gay" you
were thinking of, nor the '90s you were thinking of for that matter. However,
there is a nightclub in Minneapolis featuring drag queens that wears that
moniker.
I ordered a New York strip and it
turned to be quite good. Perfectly spiced and grilled, it made an excellent
birthday feast. It wasn’t the best steak I’ve ever had—that honor goes to my
father who cooked porterhouses in a gas broiler. But it still ranked right up
there.
After dinner, I asked the waitress if
there was a park along the river where I could see the Missouri. It turned out that
the city’s Heartland of America Park had an excellent view. And speaking of the
1890s, there was a world’s fair there in 1898.
It was starting to get dark and fearful of getting lost, I trekked
back into Iowa in daylight and began heading east on I-80 again.
Once I was on the route I wanted, I pulled into a rest stop with a
Lewis and Clark theme. The expedition traveled through the area in 1805.
After that, the endless miles of cornfields began and I started to
relax and enjoy the road more with less traffic. In addition to improved vision,
drivers tend to be calmer. It is rare for cars to drive around 80-90 mph and
most of them manage to stick near the speed limit. Truckers also tend to be
more polite. They don’t tailgate, even in construction zones where there is
only one lane open. I tend to drive long hours on days when I am going to sleep
at either a truck stop or rest stop. Some states on my route, especially Iowa
and Ohio, have many stops no more than 40 miles apart. Others have few. Along
I-95 which runs along the Atlantic coast, most states have just one stop that
double as welcome centers along state borders. But this route is more heavily
populated and travelled. There are truck stops, motels and fast food
restaurants at many exits.
So I drove to the Mitchellville rest stop, near the middle of Iowa
and pulled over to get my sleep. I tossed and turned in discomfort but
discovered that I am more comfortable if I lowered my seat completely.
About 3 a.m., I needed to go to the bathroom and I discovered the
seat would not go up. It was stuffy and the windows would not go down. My
battery was dead. I pushed my way out the door, took care of business and went
to get my jumper cables out of the trunk. No deal. The trunk wouldn’t open
because the lock was electronic. There was no key.
I did manage to open the hood and couldn’t find the battery. WTF?
Then I realized it was under a cover. I looked and saw there was a lot of
corrosion on one of the terminals. It was obvious I needed help.
As part of my auto insurance, GEICO includes road assistance. I
called them and explained the situation. I’m in the middle of nowhere and it’s
early – very early—in the morning and the few companies GEICO works with are
not answering the phone. GEICO is also having trouble locating me. The weather
app on my phone is telling them I’m in Mitchelleville. There is a sign on the
rest stop indicating it is rest stop number 11. But they can’t figure out
exactly where I am because there are no mile markers. We finally figure things
out when I realized there was a “you are here” map on the rest stop wall. From
there we figured out the exits.
And around 4 a.m. someone finally answered the phone and my rescue
was on its way. In fact the name of the company coming was called Rescue
Towing. Despite all the conversation with GEICO, the tower wasn’t told the
right place. The driver passed right by the rest stop and went to the next
exit, where GEICO told him the car was. He called me and I told him where I
really was and he soon arrived. He cleaned off the terminal and successfully
jumped the car. I was back in business.
While I was letting the car run, I opened the trunk, only to
discover I had no jumper cables. I had left them with Emily’s car when she
bought it a year ago.
I looked toward the east and saw a very interesting phenomenon. It
was a couple of hours before dawn and the sun’s rays were reflecting off a
cloud. As I drove on, the sunrise was beautiful, but brief, as the cloud began
blocking the sun.
Sept. 16
It is a Saturday. I’ve been driving into the early morning afraid
to stop at a rest stop and turn the car off. But finally my bladder gets the
best of me and I pull over somewhere outside of Iowa City. And giant bees
suddenly surround me. Actually, they look like people who are wearing clothes
with giant yellow and black stripes. More people emerge wearing bright yellow clothing
accented by black spots. And suddenly I realize that they are rooting for
Hawkeyes.
It’s college football day in the Big 10 and people are gathering
for the game about 20 miles away. I approach them and say, “I presume you
aren’t Cyclone fans.” They laugh and I tell them I live near another Big 10
powerhouse, Rutgers, and they laugh even harder. Anyhow we discuss traffic and
they tell me it is too early in the day for I-80 to start having heavy traffic.
(For the uninformed: Hawkeyes are the name of the University of
Iowa’s sports teams, whose colors are yellow and black. Cyclones are the name
of Iowa State University’s team – Iowa’s rival though they belong to different
conferences. Rutgers joined the Big 10 a few years ago and rarely win, having
neither a football nor a basketball win in the conference last year.)
I expected to roll through Illinois and Indiana that day and sleep
at a rest stop somewhere in mid-Ohio. But exhaustion was getting to me. I
looked at a map and realized the westernmost town of any size along I-80-90 was
Toledo. I had slept at a Red Roof Inn because of the free night from Emily’s
rewards plan. I called her and asked her to see if she could get a room in
Toledo for me. There were three Red Roofs in town and she got a fantastic rate
of just $33 per night. I plugged the location into the GPS and found myself
there around 10 p.m. With that rate, combined with my exhaustion, I decided to
spend an extra night there.
Sept. 17
I woke up around 10 a.m. and tried to figure out what to do for
the day. There was a nearby Wal-Mart and I drove over to see if I could get the
oil change. They said that would take about 35 minutes and I would be taken
right away. I asked them to also check the battery. They said it was working
fine. While they were working on the car, I got a sandwich and bought some tee
shirts. By the time I was finished, so was the service people… what a difference!
I headed back to the motel and picked up a brochure about local
Toledo attractions. Still tired, I decided to lie down and watch NFL football.
The Detroit and Cleveland teams were the local broadcasts and I dozed off. I
woke up needing to go to the bathroom. I barely made it as I was hit with
explosive diarrhea and I spent many bouts on the toilet throughout the day
and night before finally collapsing around 2 a.m.
Sept. 18
I’m still weak from the diarrhea attacks from yesterday but I
don’t want to spend another day in Toledo. To begin with, the motel room was
barely acceptable. It was cramped and had neither a microwave, nor a
refrigerator. I drove into Pennsylvania and was less than 250 miles from home but
I just wasn’t able to go all the way despite only driving a few hundred miles.
The diarrhea had ended, thank God, but the effects hadn’t. I stopped at the
welcome center rest stop and grabbed one of those magazines filled with motel
discount coupons. I wound up in Dubois and got a room at the Hampton Inn. What
a difference! The room was large and filled with amenities – refrigerator and
microwave, coffee maker, ironing board and an incredibly comfortable bed with
delightful linens. I watched some Monday Night Football but my Giants, alas,
continued their woeful ways. I fell asleep and had the best rest I’ve had in a
long time.
Sept. 19
It is the last day of the journey. I had a great breakfast at the
hotel, with scrambled eggs and ham with cheese. I grabbed a bagel with cream
cheese for lunch and was on my way. The miles rolled along as I passed the
places I stopped to visit on my way out. By early afternoon I was in New
Jersey. I had been having problems with the car ever since the jump start. The
car’s clock and calendar were locked onto the time of the jump start and I was
unable to reset them. At the dealer where I have the car serviced, I learned
that the battery had to be disconnected to properly reset the time and
calendar. They also cleaned the terminal and added a felt pad and sprayed an
anticorrosion paint onto the terminal. I reached home and immediately put my
laundry on.
Emily was at work and I left a text for her letting her know I was
home and asking her to go to dinner with me after work. We met at a nice
Columbian restaurant we had wanted to try and were delighted with the wonderful
meal. After the meal, I stopped at my church for the Tuesday night Bible study.
I returned home and watched NCIS New Orleans before turning in.
Everything was back to routine, and I was glad for it.
