Day 15 – April 18

After an earlyish breakfast, 8:00, we headed out for the Natchez Trace Parkway where we wanted to visit the Loveless Cafe. Again I am using the royal we here because frankly I steer clear of anything that promotes itself as ‘loveless’ but we have been told that Martha Stewart thought they have the ‘best tea biscuits in America’. So who in their right mind wouldn’t go out of their way for that. If you are interested that line starts to form right behind me. As it turns out we rolled into The Loveless Cafe in about 30 minutes due to Jane’s flawless navigating.

This created a bit of a gastronomic challenge for me. Possibly there is some Scottish blood in my background but when I stay at a hotel that has breakfast ‘included’ I consider it my personal mission to break even on the package transaction and my digestive system had not begun to put a dent in the carbo load I had stocked up on for the arduous drive I was anticipating. That having been said, in the spirit of international relations and in deference to Martha Stewart, I had a few of the biscuits and a slice of their ‘World Famous’ ham. To sum things up quickly, which as you have no doubt gathered, clearly Martha Stewart has never had Diane’s tea biscuits and I am becoming very suspicious of anything touted as ‘World Famous’. I return to my comment about the ‘Lake’ in the Lake Land RV Park, maybe in some world – just not mine.

One thing that I did find interesting at this quaint little cafe (which by the way serves almost 500,000 people a year and makes 7,000 of the aforementioned biscuits a day) was their signage. Firstly as I entered, I was struck by the sign on the window next to the front door. Right next to the American Express, VISA, MasterCard signs was a picture of a hand gun with a red diagonal through it. Clearly hand guns were not a recognized method of payment, that was useful information to have before entering. The second interesting sign was in the men’s washroom. It announced that bags for the toss game were available at the host stand in the restaurant. As useful as that information may be it occurred to me is this something that the average person wants to stop to read when they are making a dash for the porcelain throne?

Not Legal Tender

Useful info

Heading back on the road I was feeling more like an anaconda after its monthly feed than a road warrior and as I settled in the BRT I noticed that the steering wheel seemed a little closer than I had remembered.

Our next stop was the historic town of Franklin, named after – drum roll please- good old Ben Franklin. A beautiful, almost Disney Land perfect little town spotted with perfectly maintained historic buildings. A very walkable town with a central roundabout at the civic square – ignoring the obvious geometric contradiction of having a round about in a town square, 4 hour free parking was available all along the round about with spaces generous enough for the BRT. In the world of RVing it occurs more and more to me that happiness is a big parking space. One thing that struck me in Franklin, other than the obvious wealth, were the white cars. It’s like there is a civic by-law or some tax break for owning a white car.

White Cars Only

We dropped into the visitors centre to get a map and I listened as one of the interpreters outlined a driving tour to a couple who were visiting Franklin for the first time. Franklin was the site of a significant battle in the Civil War and as the interpreter described the various battle locations to them I was taken aback when she noted “that terrible day when the Union troops slipped behind the Confederate lines” . I wanted to say lady, it’s history, get over it – you got your ass whipped – the slaves are gone for good. I wondered if she would have used the same description if the couple had been Afro American. Don’t get me wrong, everyone we have met has been incredibly friendly and helpful to a fault, but just when you start to think that the only difference between people is an accent a bit of culture like that jumps up to remind me that we are in a different place here. Neither better nor worse, but definitely different.

We had just about used up our 4 hours of allocated free parking when we stopped for an early supper. Martha’s biscuits were distant digested memories. After a quick stop on the way back to the Parkway to restock the larder with food and beverages we were back on the road. The time of day and warnings of approaching extreme weather conditions lead us to be on the lookout for accommodations.

Our map showed a campsite called Meriwether Lewis Park which was only about 90 minutes drive so we kept a look out for signs. The Natchez Parkway is quite different than the Blue Ridge, it is a heavily treed area and lacks the mountainous vistas of the Blue Ridge. However the road is very well maintained and combined with the lack of traffic and a 55 mph speed limit we could move right along. The first sign I saw for Meriwether Lewis said ‘Meriwether Lewis site and burial ground’ , as I hadn’t planned on that extended a stay I hoped that some shorter term accommodations would also be available.

Our information indicated that this campground operated on a first come basis, meaning no reservations. What we found out however was that this was a free site with no services other than a washroom, which was fine for an overnight stay. There were several sites available and we chose two sites within close walking distance of the washrooms. Family # 1 experienced some 12v power issues i.e. no auxiliary power and they reverted to candle power for the evening. Ike and I examined the problem but our combined electrical expertise qualifies us to do little more than turn on a light switch so after some perfunctory checking of fuses and voltages we came to the conclusion that there definitely was an electrical problem and congratulated our selves with a beer. As this has been the first site we stopped at without land power there is no saying how long the problem has been going on but the LRT’s auxiliary battery is as flat as I have ever seen a battery.

The promises of high winds, maybe even tornadoes and rain were soon fulfilled and I anxiously examined the numerous trees surrounding our site before we turned in for the night. As big as the BRT may seem on the road it would offer no resistance if one of them were to uproot in a storm. Thoughts of the Meriwether burial ground close by added little comfort. The night passed somewhat uneventfully, marked by flashes of lightening and claps of thunder accompanied by periods of heavy rain. The weather forecast also predicted dramatic temperature drops.

Day 16 – April 19

The predicted temperatures were fully realized over night as we awoke to at least 30 degrees F colder air than the day before, somewhere in the range of 55 F with an associated drop in humidity. This is a marked change from the 85 degrees and high humidity of yesterday. Slightly warmer weather is predicted in the area later in the week . One of our primary needs is to get to a laundry facility soon as clean clothes options are rapidly decreasing.

We stopped several times along the parkway to take short hikes, as it was an overcast day it made for some great opportunities to photograph some of the plant life, many of which are now in full blossom. Later in the afternoon we passed from Tennessee into Alabama.

Lunch on the Natchez Trace

Natchez flora

Natchez fauna

Upon the recommendation of our waitress in Franklin we stopped in at Muscle Shoal and found that other than its unique name it had little of interest. On our way there we saw a private RV site with a laundry and wi-fi in Tuscumbia so we stopped there for the night. For $25/night and free laundry facilities it was a great deal. For supper, Jane and Ike barbecued a chicken and Diane roasted potatoes and string beans.

After supper we had a FaceTime conversation with Family # 2, Carla and Sean, who are now officially ‘on the road’ in the MRT. It was great to hear from them and to see Sean who has been out of the country on business for a while. As they were spending the night at the house of Family # 1, it also provided an opportunity for them to get some unanticipated required items brought along, like a meat thermometer.

Family # 2 have now begun to post to the blog and I did take some heat for the verbosity of my entries. The point is well taken and as I respect their opinion very highly in such matters I took the time today to add an additional 500 words to my posting 🙂 If you want a tweet you are reading the wrong blogger.

Day 12 – April 15

Stone Mountain Park did not have a lot of redeeming value, other than a noticeable lack of roaming bands of marauding bike gangs and as it was raining when we awoke we decided to hit the road as soon as possible and to drive on the inter state for a while. The low clouds would have made driving in the mountains pointless. So our plan was to get further south paralleling the Blue Ridge Parkway and then get back on the parkway to visit the Blue Ridge Folk Art centre. I say ‘our’ plan euphemistically because if I had been the sole decision maker I wouldn’t go to the trouble to roll down my window to get a better look at a piece of ‘folk art’ which, as elitist as it may sound, in my mind is one of the great oxymorons of our time.

Don’t misunderstand, I really appreciate the outlet that their art gave to Maud Lewis and Joe Norris and the innocence of that work but when I see some trade school drop out painting three headed cats on pieces of old barn board in an attempt to ride on Grandma Moses’ shirt tails it falls apart for me and don’t even get me going on painted tractor seats. That being said you aren’t reading this for some rant on art appreciation, I’m just setting the stage here.

So we roll into the parking lot and with some reluctance in my step I approached a very attractive stone building, thinking what a waste of a great building. However once I stepped inside and saw a demonstration of wood turning going on I began to think that this stop might be salvageable. As it turns out this is really a ‘craft’ museum/store. There were some amazing examples of wood work, pottery, jewellery, quilting and various other crafts, most of which was for sale but some on permanent display. This is a juried guild whose membership consists of Appalachian residents only and the work was of incredible quality.

Folk Art Centre

We spent a couple of hours there admiring the work and talking to the very knowledgeable staff, some of whom were artisans. So a very interesting stop and despite many temptations our only purchase was a small hand blown Christmas ornament.

We exited the Parkway again and took the interstate to Asheville, N.C. Where we arrived around 4:00. Asheville isn’t a big city but there was lots of traffic and some narrow streets to navigate until after a few circles of the downtown I spotted a parking space big enough to house the BRT. Now the BRT is not big by RV standards but when looking for a downtown parking spot 22.5′ plus double bike rack can present a challenge, so happening across something like this was tantamount to having Moses be your parking guide and smiting the concrete with his trusty staff to open up a space. I careened into that spot like I had found the promised land and pulled up to the meter. Ike pulled the LRT into the space behind me with room to spare in between.

Immediately I began to question my good fortune. What city in their right entrepreneurial mind would make a parking lot space the size of the air craft carrier deck. I exited the beast to examine my good fortune more closely. There was only one meter and Ike had a meter for his space. A nice gentleman walking along reminded me that I had to put money in the meter but only until 6:00 and then it was free. I thanked him for the information and then realized from the machine he had in his hand that he was the meter man. So I asked him about the space being so large and as he looked at the beast he agreed it did seem somewhat oversized for a metered spot. Closer examination showed that an intervening meter had been removed and hadn’t been replaced. Talk about getting lucky.

Asheville was a very walkable city with lots to entertain us so it was fully 6:00 before we returned to our vehicles, after a tasty meal at a local pub and headed out again. We knew that there were several camping spots south of Asheville on the way to Hendersonville so we headed out on spec looking for camping signs along the way. After one false start at something called the Flea Market Camping Grounds which I think in hindsight we mercifully could not find we found a private campsite called Lake Land RV.

I am finding that the use of euphemism and allusion in campground names seems common. After some careful exploration the best I could determine was that the aforementioned ‘lake’ was some indentation adjacent to the office that had been filled with water through something approaching an oversized lawn sprinkler. In some Lilliputian world that body of water may have passed for a lake but in all honestly we hadn’t selected the location for its view, we needed to get settled before dark.

Day 13 -April 16

After some research the night before, what Lake Land lacked in aquatic vistas it made up for with Internet access, we found that there was going to be a great concert in Nashville on Tuesday night. We decided that with some pedal to the metal driving on the interstate that we might be able to make it there in time for the 7:30 concert that night.

Firstly however there was a bit of business that I wanted to take care of, I wanted to dump our grey water tank. For the benefit of the non RVers following this I will digress into this little bit of RV knowledge that I am assuming everyone has been curios about. I understand that the most frequently asked questions of astronauts are related to what happens to water and ‘waste’. I am assuming that the same questions have been plaguing our readers so I am about to provide you with some relief to those burning questions.

Firstly RV’s have on board ‘water management systems’. These systems consist of enough pipes, valves, connectors, by passes, tanks and pumps to make the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory look like an Easy Bake Oven.

Firstly there is what is known as ‘land’ water that is the hose hook up that you have at most camping sites and this puts water directly to the kitchen sink, bathroom sink, shower and toilet as well as the outside shower. There is a small propane fired hot water tank in the system if that is required. This all runs on the pressure provided by the site services. There is also ‘house’ water. This is water that comes from an on board water tank and a 12v pump that provides water pressure. Some sort of by pass valve deep in the bowels of the beast gives preference to the ‘land’ water over the ‘house’ water whenever the BRT is hooked up.

With the exception of the toilet and of course the outside shower, all of this waste water flows into a holding tank that is called the grey water tank. The toilet water goes into a separate holding tank known as the black water tank, due more to a deference to good taste than descriptive accuracy I believe.

Through a series of pipe, hoses and valves these tanks can be emptied at what are known as ‘dumping’ stations – I think in this case an adherence to descriptive accuracy prevailed over good taste. This was the first time we had stayed at a site that had dumping hook ups right at the individual sites and I felt it was time to learn how to do this while I was only experimenting with ‘grey’ water. For those of you who have rented Robin Williams’ movie RV you will understand the trepidation with which I approached this seemingly innocuous task. When your ‘dump’ goes bad things get ugly fast.

So armed with the requisite disposable gloves, connectors, flexible hoses and due respect, I approached the task. Connections were made, checked and double checked, valves pulled and lo and behold grey water flowed – without event or the need for a hazardous waste clean up team. I had had my first successful ‘dump’ and like some toddler that had just graduated to toilet training I let out a bit of a yahoo, which I noticed was responded to by my neighbour, obviously a seasoned RVer, with something that sounded like ‘newbie’ under his breath. In Ike’s words, ‘you cut me to quick Shrek’. Next time I’ll keep my little successes to myself.

The ‘Dump’

Having passed this milestone we headed out to Nashville. In a nutshell it was a day of hard white knuckle driving. Parts of the interstate have speed limits of 70 mph and most drivers are observing it. The ‘slow’ lane is doing 65. An unplanned bonus was we crossed a time zone and arrived in Nashville around 5:00 and checked into the Days Inn which we had booked on line. It’s great to have the confidence of a booked room when you arrive in town but there is some risk. for instance this particular establishment was undergoing an extensive renovation, the lobby was decorated in a style that I would call Early Bombed Out Beirut. Sheets of plastic hanging from the ceiling, carpet and tile stripped off the floor, wires strung everyone. A lovely welcome and no reduced rate but we were running late and had no time to negotiate a better deal.

A quick change of clothes and we arrived at the Bridgestone Arena in time to buy tickets on the floor. The concert was a fund raiser for the Music Hall of Fame and was hosted by Keith Urban and Vince Hall. The line up was incredible and included Roseanne Cash, Eric Church, Kid Rock, Cheryl Crowe, Jason Aldean, Chris Kristofferson, Willie Nelson, Hank Snow Junior, Trace Atkins, Tim Mcgraw and more. It was like a lifetime bucket list of country music. Check out the whole line up at

http://countrymusichalloffame.org/keith-urban-we-re-all-for-the-hall-2013/

Cheryl Crowe and Kid Rock

After the concert we walked around downtown and stopped in at a bar called Benchmark where a group unassumedly named the ‘Disappointments’ were playing. Fantastic musicians mixed with a great crowd patter was a winning combination for us. We were entertained with their country rock tunes until after midnight.trim.eTLuyC

Day 14- April 17

A lateish breakfast at 8:30 before we headed out with a plan to explore downtown Nashville. We had seen a lot of interesting spots as we walked around after the concert the night before. We visited the State Capital, where we spent some time getting through the security scan due mostly to the fact that both Ike and I had knives on our person. We had a nice security guard and I tried to make the point with him that Ike’s key chain Leatherman really stretched the definition of a knife. After getting our passes we spent some time admiring the spectacular building with all of its amazing limestone construction.

The Capital contains the Supreme Court, the Senate, the Legislature and the House of Representatives. It makes my head hurt trying to understand the American political system and I am amazed that anything gets passed but the system seems to work for them.

We then walked around downtown some more after a couple of stops for some non alcoholic hydration. It is stinking hot here and being next to a large river seems to have driven the humidity up much more than we have seen in earlier parts of our trip. At one point we were walking behind a guy in a dark suit who regardless of the heat was making his way promptly to some appointment. For a moment I couldn’t help but smile with the realization that I wasn’t that guy anymore. Life is good.

We wanted to see the so called music district of Nashville which was some walking distance away but as our plan for the day was to just get to the start of the Natchez Trace Parkway, a roadway similar to the Blue RidgeParkway, we felt we had some time to spare. However the walk was a bit longer than we anticipated and required another stop at a watering hole around 3:00 where we decided that possibly our walking plan should be curtailed and a taxi ride back to our hotel might get us out of Dodge before rush hour traffic. We took the opportunity of a wi-fi connection to Face Time Carla to see how Family # 2 were making out. Sean and Casey have returned safely from their trek of the Nepalese mountain sides and Carla is busy packing up the MRT.

During that conversation our plans evolved again. We decided that we would try to use the coupons on the back of our Nashville maps to get 50% off another night at our hotel. It should be pointed out that on this trip all plans are considered STC – subject to change.

In anticipation of a freed up schedule we did walk around the music district which was a pleasant walk around some older homes, many of which have been repurposed to corporate offices for music industry companies. We caught a cab back to downtown and then walked back to our hotel over the pedestrian bridge. Leaving the ‘women folk’ in charge of the negotiations, we now had more leverage than we did the previous night with the impending concert start we got our reduced rate. We spent another ( earlier) night walking about downtown and had a filling supper at Jacks Barbecue where not surprisingly there were no vegan offerings, who would have thought. Without any effort we found another watering hole, downtown Nashville makes George St. in St. John’s look like a temperance revival centre with two live bands to entertain us.

Leaving Halifax in 6C and drizzle made the departure easier! We had a great time with Karen and Cam last night when they hosted friends and family for some eats and drinks, Very nice, thanks Cam and Karen.

So now after 2 hours on the highway from Novi we are now firmly ensconced in the Bagtown Inn (Jane & Ike’s Sackville, NB home) with Grace & Shogi (sp) waiting on us hand and foot. OK, mostly . Grace while the dog runs around with Carla’s socks. And now Grace has shown us where the rum is so this has helped immensely with the jet lag.

Day 11-April 14 continued

After our musical session we went across the street to visit an art gallery which had some lovely work by local artists, including some work by the owner who repurposed various every day items such as irons and farming tools into what were surprisingly attractive lamps, considering the origins of the constituent parts.

After Floyd we headed back onto the Parkway, crossed over into North Carolina and found the Stone Mountain St. Park. Similar to many of the state parks we have been at it was poorly marked to the point of being hidden. I feel more like Indiana Jones than a tourist, with every stop becoming more and more difficult to find.

As we are getting a little low on food supplies a bit of creative work was necessary to pull a supper out of the hat but Jane came through with some tasty chili, made with ingredients that included some freeze dried protein stuff, basically bomb food, but just like some of the art pieces in Floyd, the product was far superior to what you might have assumed, considering the constituent parts.

Diane fired up the oven and topped off the meal with some fresh baked biscuits – hardly roughing it are we. Although we had bought wood for a fire we were all too tired so it looks like the wood is going to travel for a while.

Day 12 – April 15

I’m behind, stay tuned.

Day 9 -April 12 continued

As the rain cleared we had a quick walk around the park. The main park lodge is a beautiful stone and wood structure dating back to early 1900’s when the park was constructed.

We headed out again to the Blue Ridge Parkway which is a narrow two lane highway that winds up and down the Appalachian and surrounding mountains providing frequent and spectacular views. In combination with the maximum 45 mph speed limit the frequent photos stops are giving us an average speed of about 30 mph so we are not exactly rocketing along but really enjoying the laid back pace. Even thought everything is in bloom, or actually in leaf, the park centres are not open yet as this is unseasonal weather. The upside to this is that there is next to no traffic, it appears that everyone has been caught off guard so the campgrounds have lots of vacancies and in this off season not having reservations is not proving to be a problem. However to find a campground, or garage, or grocery store you have to leave the parkway on one of the many roads that crisscross the route.

It was a need for fuel that drove us off the Parkway at around 2:30 at the town of Bedford. Although Jane and Ike’s Toyota truck (the LRT in case you had forgotten) has much better fuel consumption than the BRT it also has a smaller fuel tank and we need to fill up at about the same time which is proving convenient. Gas continues to get cheaper. We have bought it as cheaply as $3.29 a usg. Prices like that make a huge difference when you have a tank the size of the BRT which seems to hold one tanker truck full of fuel. At a couple of stations when we finished paying for gas they shut the station down and left on vacation.

At Bedford we stopped at a bakery and cafe for a quick bite. They had a wifi connection – not surprisingly ‘poundcakes’ was the password. We took advantage of that to send some e- mails and update our blog. Jane ‘face-timed’ with her dad and I contacted Colin to see how he was making out and to see if that border guard had been poking around. Apparently my ruse is working as there hasn’t been any sign of her. (Just a note to the casual reader – I will be referencing earlier entries assuming that all of this content is so riveting you don’t want to miss any of it, so if some comment like the above makes no sense then – busted, you haven’t read the other entries tsk, tsk).

The bakery stop

Further down the road in Bedford we stopped at the Bedford Visitors Centre. Going against the tide of most other municipalities that are shutting down such locations due to such easy access to tourist info on the Internet, Bedford has made a statement that tourism is important and built a beautiful information centre with interpretive displays, a wifi hotspot and to top it off RV hook ups at a reasonable price if you want to hang around.

We still had sunlight to burn and wanted to make some mo distance so they recommended a park further down the Parkway, the Smith Lake Park – a state run park. With directions in hand we headed off. One thing we are quickly discovering however is that as nice as these parks are it’s almost like they don’t want you to find them if you are a cfa. Signage is almost non existent and none of them are on main drags. Often they are not on the maps or GPS so finding one can be a challenge. Smith Lake Park proved not to be an exception to this rule. After several wrong turns and a couple of back-ups, we finally found it.

Interestingly on the list of things that you can’t do in the park, like discharge a firearm, cut down live trees, detonate nuclear devices (without the supervision of an adult) the first thing listed is ‘no alcoholic beverages’ – talk about having your priorities set. The volunteer camp host reinforced that several times when they ‘welcomed’ us to the grounds. One man’s welcome is another man’s warning- remember, just because you are paranoid doesn’t mean that they aren’t out to get you.

We were feeling in need of a rest day so discussed staying for two nights but booked in for one when we signed in, awaiting the next day to make that decision. Many of the parks have self check in. You pick up an envelope at the entry building, pick out a site and then drop off the envelope with your info and the payment. The next morning the park host drops by to see if everything is in order. However at Smith’s Lake the visitor’s centre was opened and staffed by a young gentleman who must have been an outside worker because he seems to be somewhat challenged by the computerized registration system which easily took ten times longer than the envelope in the slot system – you gott’a love the economies that technology has brought to old processes.

We found two nice sites next to each other and after a requisite campfire went to bed. I think we are finally settling into sleeping in this bed as Di and I both had the best sleep of the week.

Day 10 – April 13

After a quick morning conference we agreed that a rest day was in order and Ike headed down to the visitors centre to check in for the second night. Unfortunately the centre was closed so we talked to our camp host who said that there were two site left and that he would get the park ranger to contact us. While Jane and Ike waited for the appearance of what later appeared to be a somewhat elusive park ranger Di and I headed out for a bike ride, our first of the trip. We returned in about 1/2 hour, still no ranger and we all headed off to explore the park and trails on our bicycles.

Smith Lake is a large man made lake and apparently prime bass country, striped bass are stocked. As we cycled down to the boat launch the parking lot was full of 1/2 ton trucks, all of which had crew cabs and boat trailers, bedecked in sparkle paint you can only assume matched their big billy bob bass boats. Now when I say full I mean at least 100 trucks and trailers, I have never seen so many boat trailers in one spot. And just as a testament to the size of the lake, as I looked out I could only see three boats.

A Big Billy Bob Bass Boat – in it’s natural setting

We took a woods trail that ran along the edge of the lake and then back to our camp sites. It turned out to be bike/hike as the terrain was a little rugged in places but it was a very welcome change to driving. We were very cautious on the hiking part as we were told that Virginia is home to the copperhead snake, a close encounter with which could lead to a premature end to the trip, and life in general.

After another great meal and campfire under an amazingly clear star filled sky we turned in with the plan to be on the road ‘early’ the following morning.

Day 11 – April 14

True to our plan we were on the road by 9:00, yes that is early. Our plan was to get back on to the Blue Ridge Parkway by the ‘back roads’ and then cross over to a town called Floyd which, according to the travel info we had, was in interesting spot. Back roads was no overstatement of our route, we drove though some beautiful country along a road than more often than not was not even blessed with a centre line. My only real concern was if my NRA sticker was big enough. We found Floyd, and true to the guide it proved to be a very interesting location. We ate at the ‘Oddfellows Cantina’ where two guitarists entertained us.

We then went two doors down to a cafe/ice cream store. At the back of the store a permanent stage with audience seating was being used by a group of local musicians who were playing bluegrass music. As we watched more musicians with instrument cases drifted in. It appeared to be a regular informal jam session. Before long there was an upright bass, several banjos and guitars drawing an ever increasing audience of Sunday shoppers.

Bluegrass in Floyd

Day 5 April 10 continued.

After stocking up with victuals for the ensuing trek we decided that this was a day to make some time so we stayed off the back roads and headed down the I-81. Now this is a serious highway! There are no sightseers here. Anyone on this road is in a hurry – 4 lanes of American steel hurtling on in random and unannounced lane changes just to see if you are really paying attention.

I have never seen so many 18 wheelers. Literally there were times when we had transport trucks in front, behind and next to us – sort of like a steel and rubber coffin rolling along at 65 miles per hour. At one point I had to turn on my high beams to compensate for the lack of sunlight.

When you pull off in traffic like this you are faced with the onerous task of re-entering the flow of traffic using what have to be the shortest merge lanes in the world. Firstly you wait for something that you might jokingly call a break in the traffic, that means any space that is slightly more than one of your vehicle lengths. Let me take you through this from the driver’s seat. First, having spotted an approaching ‘break’ you abandon all reason and put the accelerator to the floor – right to the floor! The BRT lurches into action and pushes you back into your seat – a feeling that I imagine is somewhat akin to a space shuttle launch. At this point I am grateful for every one of the BRT’s ten cylinders that are now sucking on my gas tank like a crew of drunken sailors at an all you can drink beer fest. My navigator is shouting ‘bogie closing in at your 6 o’clock Maverick’ and I respond ‘ I see him Goose’. I check my rear view camera and the screen is filled with the chrome bumper of some eighteen wheeled laviathan that has a hood ornament the size of a VW beetle. in hindsight it may very well have been some misfortunate VW that misjudged it’s re-entry trajectory. Suddenly warning lights are flashing on the dash, Scotty comes on the com ‘ Captain, I kenna hold her, she’s starting to break up’. ‘Divert power from the shields I bellow, she’ll take it’. And sure enough we merge with traffic and assume orbit with the rest of the fleet. Just another day on board the BRT.

My absolute favourite parts of the drive were the areas marked ‘road work in progress’. Theses were the areas where single lanes were set up with the creative use of Jersey Barriers, a lot of really, really big Jersey Barriers, 6 feet tall and set apart seemingly just 6″ wider than the Dumboesque mirrors on the BRT. This constraint didn’t seem to dissuade the truckers from maintaining their same speed, they are tall enough that their mirrors are above the barriers. Now I must admit I am still smarting from my close encounter with the A. MacKay bridge at home so feeling the pressure of the rigs behind me to maintain speed, the experience was what I imagine luge racing to be except that a slight misjudgement in course doesn’t scrub seconds off your time, it scrubs bits off your RV.

Our journey took us across the Mason Dixon line, which was cause for a bit of redecoration on the beast. At our first pit stop over the line I peeled off the Greenpeace bumper stickers and replaced them with my NRA decals. I also stuck on a couple of those fake gunshot hole decals – just so everyone knows this isn’t our first time down South.

We made it to Front Royal at the start of the skyline trail but since none of the federal campsites were opened we spent the night at a Virginia State park called the Andrew Guest State Park. It was a great park with both water and electrical hook ups so we could finally set up camp and be self sufficient. The weather is amazing. Driving these last couple of days has been like fast forwarding spring and we have hit a couple of record breaking days, temperature wise. The mercury hit over 90 degrees today and we had to turn on the A/C to cool the RV down. Leftovers from our Italian meal of the day before made for a quick and tasty supper with Jane and Ike and we had a great campfire and ukelele singsong before turning in for the night.

Supper at Andrew Guest on the Shenandoah

The Shenandoah

Day 6 – April 11

Before we managed to have breakfast we got a visit from the campsite ‘host’. This is a volunteer position and the role is to make sure you have paid (after hour entry is on the honour system) and to offer whatever information they might think useful. Forty- five minutes later we had a complete copy of his family tree as well as a clear understanding of the challenges of the bathroom door operation in his RV – his wife smacks him in the face when she opens the door. Such is the life of a campsite host. Clearly a people person, he loves to talk and made us feel very welcome in Virginia. He advised us of a nice campsite a couple of hours away and after a hike alongside the Shenandoah River, in the 90 degree heat we had a refreshing shower and headed off down the Skyline Highway.

The Skyline runs through the Shenandoah National Park and the winding two lane roads are in beautiful condition. Miles of lovely stone wall offer some comfort that you are not going to careen off the road to your death in the valley below and numerous pull-offs provide opportunities to take in the great scenery. Trees are in full blossom here. The dogwoods, magnolias, forsythia and cheery trees are spectacular in their spring colours!

The southern leg of the Skyline was closed due to a planned burn – part of their forest management so we had to leave the Skyline and rejoin it further south where it merges into the Blue Ridge Parkway. Now the Blue Ridge Parkway is a state road and unlike the Skyline Highway does not have either the same quality of road or the same deference for safety. One miscalculation on this road would put you several hundred feet down a cliff. The Blue Ridge also didn’t blow its yearly budget on signage, which resulted in a great deal of extra work for Diane today as she was the designated navigator. However, by 8:00 we pulled into our sites at Sherando Lake Recreation Area.

Diane fired up the oven, threw in the pizza stone and with the addition of some pillsbury dough and toppings from Jane we had a great supper.

The cook in action

This is pizza delivery in the extreme

The Skyline Highway

Day 9 – April 12

We had a heavy rainfall overnight and yet another RV learning lesson – even windows left open a little bit will let in a substantial amount of water. We have some cushions to dry out today but the rain had subsided to a few rain showers with signs of clearing by 10:00. As Family # 1 and Family # 2 held a planning session in the BRT we were joined by a small bird that flew in through a 6″ square sliding panel in our screen door. Opening up the windows in the front doors provided an easy escape route.

We drove on through the Blue Ridge till mid afternoon when lack of fuel for the vehicles and ourselves forced us off the parkway into Bedford Virginia, a pleasant little town where we had a late lunch in a bakery and got this wi fi connection. We haven’t decided on where to stay tonight but think it might be close to Roanoke.

The Blue Ridge Highway

Mist in the Blue Ridge

Things have been a little busy so our blogging has taken a back seat to driving, eating and sleeping so you are owed a bit of an update on the last couple of days.

Day 1 -April 6

After a relaxing drive to Sackville ( during which I didn’t run into anything – yeah me) Family 3 (Di and Phil) and the BRT had a great meal with Family 1. Lots of last minute planning mixed with the nervous anticipation of embarking on such a venture.

Day 2-April 7

After breakfast Di and I headed out to let Jane and Ike finish packing without us under foot. We had two other stops to make in NB to visit. Our first visit was Moncton to visit Jeremy and Linda at their B &B . I took the opportunity to pick up my sister’s old guitar for Jane. She had planned to buy one so she could teach herself how to play on the trip but due to a busy week she didn’t have a chance to do that and since I had bought a ukulele to learn to play on the trip I thought it only fair that Ike suffer as much as Diane would – I’m thoughtful like that.

Our next stop was at Quispamsis outside of Saint John where we had arranged to meet with Janet and Brennan at a Tim’s along the highway and where we would rendezvous with Jane and Ike – sort of a trial run of what to do if we get separated on the road. Had a great visit with them and ended up sitting in the Tim’s parking lot in the comfort of the BRT. It’s kind of cool always having a coach and fridge with you.

Jane and Ike arrived about 3 and we headed off for our first destination, Freeport. After an uneventful crossing of the border – uneventful but interesting. A couple of questions about fruit, vegetables and pets but one strange question about ‘is someone taking care of your house’ the border guard had a really nice diamond ring and I wonder if she has some side business going. I quickly told her that our mixed martial arts nephew Colin was staying there with his Pitbull and he was cataloging his extensive gun collection in our spare bedroom while he was staying there and that I hoped he stayed on his meds. That should do it for home security.

We stopped along the Airline route at a diner. Had a really interesting conversation with the owner about the merits of having a conceal permit so you didn’t have to unload your side arm every time you got back on your ATV when you were checking your bear trap line. I left a disproportionate tip.

We made it to Freeport that night at about 10:30.

Day 3 – April 8

After a quick shopping stop to pick up some travel essentials – the things that you really need to survive (for me it was a new parafoil kite) Diane bought clothes or something that is just going to eventually wear out. Who said men weren’t practical shoppers.

Giving Beans the boot

We left Freeport and followed the 95 and 202 through Rochester, Concord and Keene stopping for the night at The Knotty Pine Motel in beautiful downtown Bennington. The owner recommended a brew pub in town. As we felt the need for a walk we headed out. Did you know that a one mile walk totally takes the buzz out of two bourbon and maple porters – who knew.

Day 4 – April 9

We had breakfast next to the Knotty Pine – I wasn’t wasn’t willing to risk my early morning tea buzz to so cross country trek. After a quick stop for Family # 1 to get some road coffee we were off. Our morning was spent driving through upstate New York – the Bible Belt as we were to find out. We stopped in Oneonta and went to the Yellow Deli for lunch. At first we thought we had walked into a granola bar but soon came to realize that it was closer to a WACO drive through. I avoided the speciality of the house – Koolaid.

Jane and I sought out a music store so that Jane could get a guitar book – since it appears we are now the Travelling Willburys. We found out front the pleasant owner who has owned the shop for 40 years that I should probably replace the 20 year old strings on the guitar as they had exceeded their best before date by some 19 years and 6 months. She offered to install the strings for us and did a bit of a refurbish on the guitar while she told us about all the home schooling in the area and how she had taken her daughter out of school many years ago because of sex education. My guess is that her concern was not a lack of the subject matter. A very pleasant lady but it is obvious we are in a very different world here. It looks like home from the road but when you slow down and pay attention the culture isn’t quite the same. Still can’t get used to seeing motorcyclists without helmets.

We made it to just outside Scranton that night and had a great meal at the Italian restaurant next door.

Day 5 – April 10

Diane and Jane went across the road to get groceries this morning. We hope to make it to the Blue Ridge Parkway and spend the night in our vehicles rather than in a hotel. Ike and I were left in charge of checking out and reading the vehicles for the next leg of the adventure.

Our ‘Going Away’ T shirts from the family.

The BRT

So here we are, poised on the precipice, so to speak, of our great adventure – 4 months of driving around Canada and the USA in our RV. Truth be known, we never thought of ourselves as ‘RVers’ but then I never thought of my self as being bald either – lesson here, never say never.

A bit of history and some introductions might help those of you not already bored to distraction with our discussions about this. This blog (I also never thought I would be a ’blogger’ – refer to earlier lesson) will have various contributions from the three couples on this epic voyage; Jane and Ike – hereafter referenced as Family # 1, Carla and Sean – hereafter referenced as Family # 2 and Diane and Phil – you probably have broken the elaborate code by now – Family # 3. The nomenclature dates from our trip to Greece in 2004 with these other couples and their children. It really helped with the billing in the restaurants. The children are off to various corners of the world now but the names are still useful.

The notion of this trip started in 2010 when Families # 2 and 3 were visiting Family # 1 in Whitehorse, Yukon. We drove around the Yukon and Alaska in Family #1’s Toyota van and were taken by the beauty of the area but were frustrated by the lack of accommodations in all the places we wanted to stay and admire, which always seemed more attractive if there wasn’t anyone else around i.e. no place to stay. There probably is some name for this conundrum but we all agreed there was only one solution – next time we would have an RV. And so it began. Many discussions and possibly too many bottles of wine and dark n’ stormies, the trip, like some over-chewed piece of gum, has now expanded to a circumnavigation, by land and sea, of Canada and the USA.

Valuing our sanity and friendship more than practicality we all have purchased RV’s of various sizes and descriptions. The above postings from Family # 1 show their truck camper, hereafter referenced as the LRT. Family # 2 are the proud owners of a Pleasure Craft class B hereafter referenced as the MRT and Family # 3 have a 2003 class B+ Kodiak VLR 2000 hereafter known as the BRT. This code you will have to break yourself – rent Robin Williams’ RV movie for the answer.

The interesting thing is that none of us have really spent any more than a weekend in our ‘rigs’ so we are heading into this just about as green as you can be, which may be the only way anyone undertakes something like this – in total freaking ignorance.

Countless maps and guidebooks have been consulted and Google Earth is now on top of our favourites list so we have a rough idea of a route – sort of. We are trying to keep that part flexible so that we don’t feel we have to be at any one spot at any particular time – with a few exceptions. We are doing a bit of a staggered start (not staggering) with Family # 3 heading out today to meet with Family # 1 in New Brunswick where we will overnight with them before heading off tomorrow on the first leg of the trip. Family # 2 are leaving Dartmouth on April 19 – they call it giving us a head start at the mark (Family # 2 are competitive racing sailors!) and we are all going to meet up on May 1st at the Grand Canyon – that’s the plan – for now – subject to change.
Having bought the BRT late last fall in Montreal Family # 3 have put a few kilometers on the beast, some of which have been eventful – I will return to that. Last fall was spent reworking some of the outdated technology in the beast; the cathode ray TV which only seemed to play reruns of I Love Lucy, the tape deck, headlights etc. We spent the last month or so waiting for the weather to break so we could start loading up the BRT to see what is going to fit and what has to be left behind. Unfortunately the weather has not been cooperative so the packing was postponed to the last two weeks which highlighted the need for some carpentry upgrades – shelves and the like.

The packing is now complete and the old BRT has proven to be some distant relative of Dr. Who’s Tardis, much larger on the inside than on the outside – although it is no shrinking violet on the outside – about the size of an Metro Transit access-a-bus. More on the challenges of that girth later.

Various on-line lists have been checked and cross checked, reams of paper have fallen victim to lists and routes and ‘to do’ and ‘to take’ that now all have strokes through them. It looks like we are ready to go.

The original plan was to go yesterday but do to weather, one of our team was under it, we postponed a day. When you have been planning something for so long a last minute change to lift-off comes with mixed emotions. Sort of like going to school after having crammed all night for an exam only to find out the next day that it is cancelled. Once you get your head around it you know that those last minute things you thought might not get done were now going to be OK.

Things like filling up that half empty propane tank in the BRT. So yesterday off I go to Dartmouth, the only place I can find to fill ‘er up. Having called that morning to confirm that they were able to serve me that day off I headed across the bridge, even remembering to take my MacPass – feeling pretty clever on that one. As I approached my usual ‘MacPass only’ lane I began to appreciate that the mirrors on this thing are really wide. While holding the pass in one hand while trying to avoid decapitating a green flourescent clad commissionaire on my drivers side I suddenly became aware that I may have slightly misjudged my approach. I say that because I suddenly had the sensation of my head being inside a water bucket what was being used for batting practice by some major league superstar.

I was hoping against hope that something had just fallen off a shelf behind me but when I saw the expression on the commissionaire’s face it seemed more likely that I had just peeled the roof of the beast and vision of our trip started to get a little blurry. I rolled down the window and the commissionaire said ‘that was a pretty loud bang, I think you hit something – let me look’. She soon returned with a handfull of unidentifiable metal parts. It could have been the warp drive for all I knew based on the condition of the remnants. Despondently I crawled out, not knowing what to expect and soon found that the lower metal bracket of my canopy arm had had a close encounter of the destructive kind with a concrete wall and as a result had returned to its original sub atomic structure. The canopy leg was now flapping in the breeze – I wasn’t going anywhere soon and it was late afternoon on Friday.

Very quickly I was surrounded by a phalanx of flourescent vested commissionaires taking photographs and making notes. When they asked for my license, insurance and registration I pointed out that there didn’t appear to be any damage to the concrete abutment that had destroyed my bracket but ‘there had to be a report written’ – visions of Alice’s Restaurant and the Group W bench drifted through my now throbbing head. Hazard cones were put up behind me and I’m pretty sure that the overhead sign was now flashing ‘asshole ahead’, to warn off any other approaching drivers.

Some sense of order began to return to my addled brain and I managed to secure the flailing canopy arm to the vehicle and with the sage parting advice from the commissionaire,who was younger than some socks that I own, that next time I use the truck lane I headed off to ‘buy propane’ – I am not easily distracted from a task. Arriving at the gas station (Canadian Tire on Main Street in case you are interested) I was advised that they couldn’t pump propane today after all because they didn’t have an attendant. So I am standing there thinking if I had known that I wouldn’t have come across the bridge andI wouldn’t have destroyed my canopy. Trust me that was not a good place to allow my mind to go. I pointed out, very tactfully, that I had confirmed that very morning that propane would be available but all I got was a shrug and ‘I’m sorry I can’t have your business today’ – or ever again if the truth be known was being shouted inside my brain. At that moment I was very glad that Canada does not support the right to bear arms – some temptations are best removed.

I did manage however to locate another station not far away to get propane but before I headed out I returned to the BRT to survey the damage again and to try and develop a plan. I had a good relationship with Orange RV in Enfield and had just been there the day before to have my steering fixed so on a long shot I called them and sent a photo of the offended bracket. While they scoured their spare parts bin I drove to get my propane and then on spec headed towards Enfield. En route Andre called me and said that Paul their mechanic/RV repair guru was sure he could fix it so an half hour later, after cannibalizing some of their stock and pop riveting me back to like new condition they had me rolling – total cost $28, which included $10 they apologized they had to charge to cover the costs of a special order to replace the bracket they had provided me. Like the VISA ads say – some things are priceless and good service is one of them. I got back in the BRT and sat there for a moment taking deep breaths, knowing that some days you do get lucky despite your best efforts to muck things up.

So you are now up to date. I expect that my future postings may be somewhat shorter than this but brevity is not my long suit so.

So we’re off to see the wizard – stay tuned.

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