On July 20, 2008 we were seeing the sights around Rapid City, SD. When we returned to the motor home we smelled the acrid smell associated with electrical fires. We noted that nothing inside the motor home was working, the 110 volt outlets were dead and the batteries were loosing their power. I called the maintenance people from Hart Ranch, where we were staying, and they checked the power connection and said it was OK. I then called Dennis RV service; they will be out the next morning. We spent the evening in total darkness and went to bed very early.

July 21, 2008, Dennis checked out our system. The inverter was not functional. Dennis removed the inverter and jury rigged electrical lines so we could have power. He also tried to repair the inverter by replacing a blown fuse; when that failed to work, he said the inverter had been “fried.” We subsequently found several appliances were non-functional; we removed the TVs and found the plugs were OK but the TVs were truly dead. The other appliances we lost were a convection oven (portable), 3 fans, and a bread maker (brand new). To make matters worse the electric toilet would not work and I had to kneel down and turn a knob in the back of the toilet in order to flush - no, we were not having fun. I then called Bonnie at National Interstate to report the loss; she took my information and gave me a claim number.

July 22, 2008, I talked to Jason the bean counter at the insurance company regarding our claim, who promptly told me our disappearing deductible had only one year with no claim because of a replacement of one-half of our windshield a year and 10 months earlier. He went on to say that none of the appliances were covered and they would depreciate all of the affected electrical equipment. I was real happy about this since we had been paying money for replacement coverage on contents. When I asked Jason about this he emailed me the small print stuff in the back of the policy that says these items are only covered in the event of flood, fire or natural disaster! And here I thought they were there to help me.

July 23, 2008, I talked to Jason the Hun regarding the purchase of a new inverter, about how important it was to the overall function of the motor home and our ability to stay in it. Surprisingly, he agreed and approved the purchase. Right after my conversation with Jason Connie received a call from the family that her Uncle Lester had died. We prepared for the trip home to Woonsocket, SD.

July 24, 2008, I called Jason the geek and told him about having to go home for the funeral. We traveled the 300 miles to the farm, traveled another 150 miles to pick up Connie’s parents and sister at the Sioux Falls airport, and prepared for the funeral on Saturday.

July 26, 2008. We attended Lester’s Funeral, a very sad time for our family. Lester was Connie's youngest uncle - a kind, warm, wonderful guy who will be missed. His death leaves a huge void in our family.

July 27, 2008, 2:00 a.m., we woke up to the motor home being buffeted by wind and rain. A loud crashing noise forced me to go outside in torrential wind and rain to discover that our awning was attached to the motor home at the roof line only; the arms were a useless, bent pile of metal. By the light of constant lightning I lassoed the awning and tied it to the car, all the while feeling like Moses parting the Red Sea. That next day we read about the three tornadoes in our area and thanked God we weren’t waking up in Kansas with Toto.

The next few days were spent with family and working on the motor home. The new inverter arrived and I installed it, I also bought and installed a surge protector. We are finally able to charge the batteries through the inverter - no more using the portable charger. I was able to duct tape the awning in such a way as to facilitate driving down the highway. I figured 80 mile an hour duct tape was sufficient.

August 4, 2008. After saying our farewells and returning Connie’s parents and sister to the airport in Sioux Falls, we headed west. I called Jason the jackal regarding the awning damage, he said to call the main number and report the incident; I called and got another claim number. I also called Monaco Coach Works in Harrisburg, Oregon. Monaco is the only facility I feel I can trust to fix my motor home and do it right the first time. They were very nice when I described what had happened to us and after a few words with a supervisor we got the go ahead to bring the motor home in for repairs. The other reason to drive the almost 1700 miles to Oregon was the specialty cabinet makers near Eugene who I new had experience in changing motor home cabinetry to fit the new TV’s. This needed to be done because the old tube-type TVs are no longer made and the new ones are wide aspect ratio type (longer and less height).

August 8, 2008, we arrived at the Monaco service facility in Eugene; it was too late to see a service writer or to call that so and so Jason.

August 11, 2008, I talked to a service writer and he came out to the motor home and assessed the damage. I gave him all the insurance information, claim number etc. I then called and updated you know who.

August 13, 2008, Kustom Coach Works came out, took measurements and gave me a bid.

August 14, 2008, I called Jason the rat regarding the bid for the cabinetry and then faxed it to him.

August 15, 2008. Slime Jason called and stated that the cabinetry was too much and that he thought we were just trying to gain from our loss. He also stated that he was going to depreciate the wind sensor to the awning. I was so dumbfounded I told him he was stressing me out, and that any further communication from him should be in writing. It was then I asked myself the question about why I paid insurance - it certainly was not to be told that I was a thief!!

August 18, 2008, I was told by Ronnie at Monaco that the work had not been approved. I called Jason the arrogant little -----; he said he was having a problem with Monaco getting in touch with him so he left a message on Ronnie's phone. Later that day Jason called me about the need to paint portions of the motor home; I explained to his satisfaction that they no longer made the awning arms that were on our coach and the newer style replacement arms were shorter, necessitating a patch and paint job on one side of the motor home. He then stated again that he did not like the cabinetry bid and was going to send an adjuster out to look at the damage. I am beginning to think the insurance company should be paying me for my time.

August 19, 2008. Gene the adjuster came out, took some pictures and left without comment.

August 20, 2008. Jason called with the figures for the awning replacement. He than went on to tell me that he had called Kustom Coach Works and the phone was not working, I later called and found it to be working just fine. My service writer told me he had given a bid for the cabinetry to Jason.

August 25, 2008. I called Jason regarding the cabinetry; he said he needed the bid from Monaco and he was waiting to hear from the adjuster. I am getting confused, how about you? I then talked to Ronnie at Monaco and she said she had spoken to Jason and had given him their bid and he had mentioned to her that he would be sending the adjuster back out to talk to them about the bid. He never mentioned this to me. This is strange because I had asked him why his adjuster had not had the time to get back to him!!!

I am finding it very hard to be civil to someone who has suggested that I may be a thief and has lied to me on more than one occasion.

August 25, 2008, I went to Davis Cabinets and got yet a third estimate for the work, it was less than the other two. I faxed this to the dirt ball.

August 26, 2008, I called Jason the maggot to see if he had gotten the bid from Davis; he said that he had. I then asked him again about the cabinetry work and he then tells me that he needed a notarized affidavit from Monaco regarding the cause of the electrical problems before he could approve anything. Monaco had already told him the cause by phone and told him what the affidavit said; he said he was OK with it, but he needed to see the affidavit itself before he could do anything regarding the cabinetry. Monaco had sent the notarized affidavit in the mail 10 days earlier, does he not believe Monaco? At this point I am thinking maybe he has pigeon holed the affidavit to further drive up my blood pressure. Every time I call he gives me another excuse to delay giving me what I need.

August 27, 2008, I called Jason the weasel and was told that I can’t keep calling him every day; he has told me what he needs and will contact me when he gets it! This is absolutely the last straw. I asked for the claim supervisor's name and number and received both. I then talked to Carry, the little shit’s supervisor, and briefly described my problem with this moron and asked for her help. I also called Gene, the local adjuster who came out and took pictures, and left a message with his secretary to call me. No one has returned my call, big surprise.

The next morning I got a call from Jason the low life, egg sucking poor excuse of a human being, asking “Where do you want me to send the check?” Thank you supervisor!

Hallelujah, we have escaped the clutches of the evil Jason and he has been vanquished from our lives; Ding Dong the witch is dead, etc., etc., etc..

Tuesday the second of September we go to Davis Cabinetry for the final chapter in our “Midsummer’s Nightmare.” By the way, our soon to be ex-insurance company is National Interstate, also known as Great American Assurance, which we got through an agent at Explorer RV Insurance. If you are insured with this company, I suggest you investigate others before you have a claim.

Jason and Gene the insurance adjuster trying to pick my pockets!

July 7, 2008

After a week of meeting old friends and making some new ones, the Escapade is over and we move on heading out to our next destination -- the Black Hills of South Dakota.

As we leave Gillette we are immediately awe struck by the thousands of ore cars and locomotives on the railroad tracks all around the town. At last count we saw eight trains, each one had over one hundred ore cars and four locomotives; some were full and others empty. After a few more miles we saw the reason for all these trains -- a monstrous hole in the ground. The green grasses on the edge of this chasm are in stark contrast to the red earth along the top five or six feet. The rest of this giant pit is black (coal). This scene is the rationale for all the young men we have seen around town, with the soil of hard work on them and their clothes; they are working the mines and energy is coming out of the ground headed for power plants across this nation. I am glad I own shares of Burlington Northern because it looks like the railroads will be busy for a long, long time.

The wind blew us out of Wyoming and continues to whistle through the awnings of our motor home. We are staying for a week at Rush-No-More Campground, about seven miles south of Sturgis, South Dakota, where the infamous motorcycle rally is held every year in August. In just a few weeks from now every wannabe biker wearing dew rags, leather chaps, greasy t-shirt, denim vest, heavy boots and chains attached to wallet and keys will be roaring up and down the road with a similarly dressed female attached to his back, covering up the words on his t-shirt: “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.” I guess you can’t blame her for covering up what he thinks of her. Don’t get me wrong, I dearly love riding bikes, but aspiring to be a bad-ass Hell’s Angel goes against my law and order self. Besides, I don’t like my woman smelling of grease and exhaust.

Drive down the main street of Sturgis and you will see biker bars, tattoo shops and curio shops selling trinkets from china with Harleys, skeletons and slutty women emblazoned thereon. You must get off the main street of town to find that this is really a nice little town with schools, playgrounds and neat, tidy homes. From Main Street to the back streets it seems like a parallel universe showcasing good and evil.

July 7, 2008

After a week of meeting old friends and making some new ones, the Escapade is over and we move on heading out to our next destination -- the Black Hills of South Dakota.

As we leave Gillette we are immediately awe struck by the thousands of ore cars and locomotives on the railroad tracks all around the town. At last count we saw eight trains, each one had over one hundred ore cars and four locomotives; some were full and others empty. After a few more miles we saw the reason for all these trains -- a monstrous hole in the ground. The green grasses on the edge of this chasm are in stark contrast to the red earth along the top five or six feet. The rest of this giant pit is black (coal). This scene is the rationale for all the young men we have seen around town, with the soil of hard work on them and their clothes; they are working the mines and energy is coming out of the ground headed for power plants across this nation. I am glad I own shares of Burlington Northern because it looks like the railroads will be busy for a long, long time.

The wind blew us out of Wyoming and continues to whistle through the awnings of our motor home. We are staying for a week at Rush-No-More Campground, about seven miles south of Sturgis, South Dakota, where the infamous motorcycle rally is held every year in August. In just a few weeks from now every wannabe biker wearing dew rags, leather chaps, greasy t-shirt, denim vest, heavy boots and chains attached to wallet and keys will be roaring up and down the road with a similarly dressed female attached to his back, covering up the words on his t-shirt: “If you can read this, the bitch fell off.” I guess you can’t blame her for covering up what he thinks of her. Don’t get me wrong, I dearly love riding bikes, but aspiring to be a bad-ass Hell’s Angel goes against my law and order self. Besides, I don’t like my woman smelling of grease and exhaust.

Drive down the main street of Sturgis and you will see biker bars, tattoo shops and curio shops selling trinkets from china with Harleys, skeletons and slutty women emblazoned thereon. You must get off the main street of town to find that this is really a nice little town with schools, playgrounds and neat, tidy homes. From Main Street to the back streets it seems like a parallel universe showcasing good and evil.

Spearfish, South Dakota, is the westernmost city of the Black Hills. Small town atmosphere and friendly folks is only part of what makes this our favorite city so far. The D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery is part of the Spearfish City Park. If you like peaceful streams flowing through green meadows, and ponds full of monster size rainbow trout, this U.S. Fish and Wildlife nature center is a free gem. I did not know that our government was into rearing fish before the turn of the last century and that there was ten Pullman railroad cars converted for the transportation of fingerling trout throughout the nation. These fish cars were abandoned due to road system improvement and the fact that trucks were cheaper.

We dearly love to find little eateries that serve up charm along with good food, and just such a place was Two Pine Lodge off Main Street in Spearfish. A large outdoor patio for dining made our day as a thunderstorm dumped buckets of water on the surrounding vegetation. The food was terrific and the prices were cheaper than ‘Crapplebee’s’.

“Rapid,” as it is called by the locals, is short for Rapid City. Major infrastructure construction has the roads throughout town all cobbled up. On one trip we made a complete loop of town three times due to road closures, only to finally come to the realization that the empty lot in front of the town’s only mall is where a Dairy Queen once was. No Blizzard fix for us.

Rapid is a very nice Midwest town, spread out over several miles there are about four different areas and folks are very proud of their particular area. We hope other restaurants in town are as good as the Fire Station in downtown Rapid where we found good food and service and a great outdoor area perfect for people watching. Friendly faces abound here, always there to help you in any way they can which is typical for Dakotans. The tour trolley is $1 for all day; we rode it to get the lay of the land and get some background. Rapid was nearly wiped off the map in 1972 by a sudden, unexpected flood. After burying over 200 dead residents went to work cleaning up and implementing plans to make sure nothing like it ever happened again. Today the areas close to the river are restricted to use as golf courses and parks -- miles of parks.

Initially we thought three weeks would be plenty of time to visit the Black Hills, but, wow, were we wrong! This is beginning to feel like work! But someone has to do it, right?

Hot Springs is a quaint little town squeezed between rock walls. People used to come here to be cured by the “healing” waters, but it appears the only real healing that went on here was to the land owners’ wallets. Today merchants sell Chinese goods and

T-shirts in every little shop in this interesting, historic town. The real gem here is the VA hospital and retirement home, situated above the rest of the town and adjacent to a National Cemetery. The well-kept, manicured yards and buildings here stand in tribute to the much maligned Veteran’s Administration.

Have you ever had several donkey heads sticking through your car’s windows? We were stopped by the side of the road in Custer State Park when these freeloaders decided we should give them the apples that I was cutting up. Connie almost choked one when she tried to role her window up. The donkeys are greedy but harmless -- now that was a fun experience. Later on that day we marveled at the three tunnels on Highway 16A and 87 that look out directly at and perfectly frame Mt Rushmore’s fab four. The tunnels were all one lane and varied in height from 10’ to 12’. Needless to say the tunnels are not RV friendly. At one point we ran into an RVer on his way towards one of the tunnels. I jumped out of the car and waved him down. Lucky for him because he was about to pass the point of no return, but fortunately I was able to flag him down in the only area where he stood a chance of being able to turn around. The poor guy had to unhook his tow vehicle and do a lot of jockeying back and forth on a steeply curved road in order to get turned around, but at least he could do it. If he had gone a short distance further he would have had to back down that steep road for a long way. The signage here is definitely not what it should be, particularly for drivers of oversized vehicles.

While we were visiting the Black Hills we learned of the death of Connie’s uncle Lester. We had planned to visit Lester and the other South Dakota relatives in Woonsocket in another week or so, after we completed our visit to the Black Hills. Losing Uncle Lester, a warm, gentle soul and our personal favorite of all the uncles, was incredibly sad, but it brought Connie’s Dad back to the farm for a visit with his one, remaining brother. We loved connecting with our family in South Dakota, but we have decided we won’t ever do it again in the summertime. NEVER!!!!

No one has ever seen a thunder storm unless they have experienced one in the great Midwest. We have had several during our stay here and the one last night went on from dusk ‘til dawn. I swear that at one point the thunder lasted for ten minutes, and about 10 seconds later it started all over again.

Hold the presses, that last storm was just a precursor of what was about to happen to us at 2:00 A.M. Yes, there is a two o’clock in the morning. We awoke to the sound of high wind and a loud flapping noise. I threw on pants and a shirt and went outside to locate the source of the noise. The second I stepped out of the RV I was instantly wet and having a hard time seeing or standing up because of the high wind. The awning on our RV was whipping up and down like a giant serpent, and lightning was dancing all around me, adding a surreal look to the scene. It was then I saw a vision of me looking like Charleton Heston as Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” Getting hold of myself, I finally realized that the only thing I could do was to move the car close enough so that I could tie the awning to it. The car was the only thing that could possibly hold the awning down so it didn’t rip off the side of the RV. After a quick tie-down job I went back in the coach and tried to get my heart rate down to something under 300!

The next night we witnessed a tornado. Fortunately for us it was a few miles away, but the sight was something akin to Disney’s “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” In non-stop fashion, lightning seemed to spin around clouds that were at one instant white and then black and again white. We watched, mesmerized, as it went on and on, and we knew we had witnessed something totally awesome. In the morning we learned that we were in the center of not one, but three tornados around the county. The one we saw was reported to be 200 yards wide and to have stayed on the ground for several minutes. I, for one, am happy to be alive and in one piece, and GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!

With the proper amount of duct tape applied to the awnings, we quietly crept away from Woonsocket headed south and west. Entering Nebraska we found humidity and 110 degree weather; this was definitely not enjoyable, especially while spending the night at the ‘Wal-Mart Astoria.’ This was probably one of the hottest and noisiest stops we had ever made, and I shall certainly let Sam know of my displeasure!

At last we made it out of the Nebraska heat but, unfortunately, we found that Colorado was more of the same – heat and humidity. We spent two nights at a state campground on Jackson Lake which was also another unique experience -- I called it ‘West Nile.’ Oh yeah! Have you ever seen mosquito carpet? Mosquito carpet is large spider webs with about a million mosquitoes spread evenly across. As I was removing the spider webs from the sides of the RV I realized the mosquitoes were all alive -- imagine lying there waiting to be the next meal of a spider! Well, I guess everyone has to eat.

Finally, here we are in Idaho traveling the same route the pioneers traveled on their way to Oregon and California. We are going to Oregon hoping to fix our “wagon” at the plant where it was manufactured. Along the way we stopped to tour The National Oregon/California Trail Center in Montpelier, Idaho, a living history museum with beautiful paintings depicting the trials of those brave souls who first journeyed from the east in search of a better life out west.

Spearfish, South Dakota, is the westernmost city of the Black Hills. Small town atmosphere and friendly folks is only part of what makes this our favorite city so far. The D.C. Booth Historic National Fish Hatchery is part of the Spearfish City Park. If you like peaceful streams flowing through green meadows, and ponds full of monster size rainbow trout, this U.S. Fish and Wildlife nature center is a free gem. I did not know that our government was into rearing fish before the turn of the last century and that there was ten Pullman railroad cars converted for the transportation of fingerling trout throughout the nation. These fish cars were abandoned due to road system improvement and the fact that trucks were cheaper.

We dearly love to find little eateries that serve up charm along with good food, and just such a place was Two Pine Lodge off Main Street in Spearfish. A large outdoor patio for dining made our day as a thunderstorm dumped buckets of water on the surrounding vegetation. The food was terrific and the prices were cheaper than ‘Crapplebee’s’.

“Rapid,” as it is called by the locals, is short for Rapid City. Major infrastructure construction has the roads throughout town all cobbled up. On one trip we made a complete loop of town three times due to road closures, only to finally come to the realization that the empty lot in front of the town’s only mall is where a Dairy Queen once was. No Blizzard fix for us.

Rapid is a very nice Midwest town, spread out over several miles there are about four different areas and folks are very proud of their particular area. We hope other restaurants in town are as good as the Fire Station in downtown Rapid where we found good food and service and a great outdoor area perfect for people watching. Friendly faces abound here, always there to help you in any way they can which is typical for Dakotans. The tour trolley is $1 for all day; we rode it to get the lay of the land and get some background. Rapid was nearly wiped off the map in 1972 by a sudden, unexpected flood. After burying over 200 dead residents went to work cleaning up and implementing plans to make sure nothing like it ever happened again. Today the areas close to the river are restricted to use as golf courses and parks -- miles of parks.

Initially we thought three weeks would be plenty of time to visit the Black Hills, but, wow, were we wrong! This is beginning to feel like work! But someone has to do it, right?

Hot Springs is a quaint little town squeezed between rock walls. People used to come here to be cured by the “healing” waters, but it appears the only real healing that went on here was to the land owners’ wallets. Today merchants sell Chinese goods and

T-shirts in every little shop in this interesting, historic town. The real gem here is the VA hospital and retirement home, situated above the rest of the town and adjacent to a National Cemetery. The well-kept, manicured yards and buildings here stand in tribute to the much maligned Veteran’s Administration.

Have you ever had several donkey heads sticking through your car’s windows? We were stopped by the side of the road in Custer State Park when these freeloaders decided we should give them the apples that I was cutting up. Connie almost choked one when she tried to role her window up. The donkeys are greedy but harmless -- now that was a fun experience. Later on that day we marveled at the three tunnels on Highway 16A and 87 that look out directly at and perfectly frame Mt Rushmore’s fab four. The tunnels were all one lane and varied in height from 10’ to 12’. Needless to say the tunnels are not RV friendly. At one point we ran into an RVer on his way towards one of the tunnels. I jumped out of the car and waved him down. Lucky for him because he was about to pass the point of no return, but fortunately I was able to flag him down in the only area where he stood a chance of being able to turn around. The poor guy had to unhook his tow vehicle and do a lot of jockeying back and forth on a steeply curved road in order to get turned around, but at least he could do it. If he had gone a short distance further he would have had to back down that steep road for a long way. The signage here is definitely not what it should be, particularly for drivers of oversized vehicles.

While we were visiting the Black Hills we learned of the death of Connie’s uncle Lester. We had planned to visit Lester and the other South Dakota relatives in Woonsocket in another week or so, after we completed our visit to the Black Hills. Losing Uncle Lester, a warm, gentle soul and our personal favorite of all the uncles, was incredibly sad, but it brought Connie’s Dad back to the farm for a visit with his one, remaining brother. We loved connecting with our family in South Dakota, but we have decided we won’t ever do it again in the summertime. NEVER!!!!

No one has ever seen a thunder storm unless they have experienced one in the great Midwest. We have had several during our stay here and the one last night went on from dusk ‘til dawn. I swear that at one point the thunder lasted for ten minutes, and about 10 seconds later it started all over again.

Hold the presses, that last storm was just a precursor of what was about to happen to us at 2:00 A.M. Yes, there is a two o’clock in the morning. We awoke to the sound of high wind and a loud flapping noise. I threw on pants and a shirt and went outside to locate the source of the noise. The second I stepped out of the RV I was instantly wet and having a hard time seeing or standing up because of the high wind. The awning on our RV was whipping up and down like a giant serpent, and lightning was dancing all around me, adding a surreal look to the scene. It was then I saw a vision of me looking like Charleton Heston as Moses in “The Ten Commandments.” Getting hold of myself, I finally realized that the only thing I could do was to move the car close enough so that I could tie the awning to it. The car was the only thing that could possibly hold the awning down so it didn’t rip off the side of the RV. After a quick tie-down job I went back in the coach and tried to get my heart rate down to something under 300!

The next night we witnessed a tornado. Fortunately for us it was a few miles away, but the sight was something akin to Disney’s “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice.” In non-stop fashion, lightning seemed to spin around clouds that were at one instant white and then black and again white. We watched, mesmerized, as it went on and on, and we knew we had witnessed something totally awesome. In the morning we learned that we were in the center of not one, but three tornados around the county. The one we saw was reported to be 200 yards wide and to have stayed on the ground for several minutes. I, for one, am happy to be alive and in one piece, and GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!

With the proper amount of duct tape applied to the awnings, we quietly crept away from Woonsocket headed south and west. Entering Nebraska we found humidity and 110 degree weather; this was definitely not enjoyable, especially while spending the night at the ‘Wal-Mart Astoria.’ This was probably one of the hottest and noisiest stops we had ever made, and I shall certainly let Sam know of my displeasure!

At last we made it out of the Nebraska heat but, unfortunately, we found that Colorado was more of the same – heat and humidity. We spent two nights at a state campground on Jackson Lake which was also another unique experience -- I called it ‘West Nile.’ Oh yeah! Have you ever seen mosquito carpet? Mosquito carpet is large spider webs with about a million mosquitoes spread evenly across. As I was removing the spider webs from the sides of the RV I realized the mosquitoes were all alive -- imagine lying there waiting to be the next meal of a spider! Well, I guess everyone has to eat.

Finally, here we are in Idaho traveling the same route the pioneers traveled on their way to Oregon and California. We are going to Oregon hoping to fix our “wagon” at the plant where it was manufactured. Along the way we stopped to tour The National Oregon/California Trail Center in Montpelier, Idaho, a living history museum with beautiful paintings depicting the trials of those brave souls who first journeyed from the east in search of a better life out west.

June 23 to July 5, 2008

Driving around Yellowstone from west to east is measured in animal encounters instead of miles. Today it was sixty buffalo (bison), ten elk, two deer and other assorted critters. Of course there were hundreds of humans driving vehicles, most of who seem to forget they are behind the wheel when a buffalo appears; not getting off the roadway when stopped creates problems for those of us who drive a large vehicle. Some of them forget that the animals they are watching are not in a zoo, behind cage doors and bars; these animals can be very dangerous. We saw a film of a little girl being thrown around like a rag doll by a six foot tall, 1,200 pound buffalo. Apparently for some people common sense flies out the window with the excitement of seeing their first wild animal up close.

The scenery changes very little once we leave the park on our way to Cody, Wyoming. Beautiful scenes, one after the other, this is a very unspoiled land. We stop in Cody for the night, thanking Sam Walton for our space by spending mucho dinero in his establishment. The Buffalo Bill museum is a do not miss attraction. We have been before and if we had enough time we would have gone again.

Continuing on our way to Gillette, WY, wondrous mountain scenes turn to more flat land with sage brush and tumbleweeds. Herds of cattle graze behind rusty barbed wire fences with old, wooden ranch houses to take care of both. We stop for the night in Buffalo, WY. Indian Campground has obviously been here for a long time; Cottonwood trees tower above shaded campsites, and white fluff falls like a heavy snow cleverly working itself into every crack and crevice in our motor home. Our satellite can not find an open spot, so there is no internet or TV for the night, oh my God!

After we leave the campground we discover we have some stowaways as gigantic moths seem to appear out of nowhere keeping Connie and Harry busy for several days. Harry talks to them like a duck hunter with a duck call then launches himself through the air in an attempt to catch one.

In between Buffalo and Gillette we meet up with Roger and Edie Houston, our very good friends from Lodi. Roger and Edie were the motivating force that got us to register for the Escapade. No sooner had we arrived at our destination then they got a call that we all dread - one of their best friends had lost her battle with cancer. Rallying around a friend in time of need supersedes everything else so Roger and Edie left for North Dakota and their friend’s farm; we wish them God speed. A couple days later we learn that a brother to our cousin’s husband was killed in a motorcycle accident. We are constantly reminded of just how precious and delicate life is.

The Escapade is a once a year RV rally for Escapees, a club formed years ago by people who worked on large construction sites moving from one to another in some type of RV. Thirty years later the club is over 100,000 strong, past and present. “Sharing and caring” is the Escapee motto, and hugs are the favored greeting. We will have six days chock full of seminars designed to be helpful to the lifestyle of living on the road and/or spending a great deal of time in some style of recreational vehicle. People come from all over in everything from a 13-foot trailer to a 45-foot long, gleaming piece of rolling technology costing over a million dollars. There are a lot more of the former than the latter; the “Captains of Industry” types that have to show off their money just don’t much fit in with us “regular folk.”

Last night we were treated to one of the Great Plains grand shows. Thunder and lightning roared overhead like Zeus wanting to make his presence known. The weather here is warmer than expected, 80 to 90 degrees and then we will have a respite at 70 for a day or two. They say the W in Wyoming stands for wind, and I am here to tell you I believe it. Several antelope play in and around Gillette, running and jumping to delight us all.

The people here in Gillette are some of the friendliest and most helpful we have run into in a long time, and it seems as though most of the residents here are young (in their 20’s and 30’s). We see a lot of young men who have obviously just gotten off work, their faces and clothes heavy with grease, dirt and coal. Coal mining is a huge industry here, and natural gas wells and pipelines are sprouting up everywhere -- this part of the country is hard at work.

Holy fireworks, Batman!!! The Fourth of July fireworks in Gillette were absolutely was the best fireworks display we have ever seen! It started just before dark and continued until well after 11:00 p.m. Everywhere we looked there were myriad flashes of multicolored light; a cacophony of sounds and the acrid smell of gun powder instantly transported me back to Vietnam. It was a bit unnerving, especially with the radio next to us playing The Door’s song “Come on Baby Light My Fire,” popular during the Vietnam era.

Today, July 5, as I write this I put together last night’s visage of Vietnam with our country’s celebration of freedom and remember that “Freedom” is not free; it comes at a very high price. I hope you didn’t celebrate the fourth without giving thought to those that gave so much; I am very proud to have served alongside some of them.

The rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air!

Happy Fourth of July!

Freedom is what the fourth of July means to me, free to make choices in most everything we do; but sometimes we hold ourselves back from some of those choices. Choosing not to steal is controlled by morality, not to jump off a bridge, commonsense, not to speed, the law, at least sometimes. Freedom to do as we please comes with a cost; a missed birthday, holidays without family is a big one.

Fortunately for those of us who live the Vagabond life in an RV, we have family everywhere we go. Caring and sharing is the motto of an RV club we belong to, and that is the life that most of us try to emulate. After a while, people become friends and eventually your extended family.

We love all, miss some and enjoy those we are with.

Highway 12 from Bryce Canyon north to Capitol Reef National Park in Torrey, Utah is designated an “All American Scenic Byway,” which is an understatement. Each turn of a corner on the somewhat winding road brought about a new vista of beauty we had not seen before, from box canyons to sharp outcroppings reaching to the sky; the pictures simply cannot do it justice, but they are still better than words can describe. The area called “Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument” is along this route, as is the Glen Canyon National Recreation Area. The walls here are multiple shades of red, from an intense dark brick color to tan and every hue in between. The striations in the rock walls are so precise they look as though they were machine-made, and giant, black balls of lava rock seem to be everywhere. The landscape along the route changes from red sand and rock canyons to desert to green pasture lands with grazing cattle followed by a pine and aspen forest rising from fields of small, yellow flowers. The scenery along this highway is an incredible sight to behold.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Torrey, UT is a one mile strip of motels, cafes, a grocery store and a couple of gas stations, all of which service the tourists who come to see Capitol Reef National Monument. One of the areas in Capitol Reef rises up out of the valley and looks like a capitol building; the reef name came from the early pioneers who had to take their covered wagons around this area of jutting rock and limestone. The Navajo called this area “the land of the sleeping rainbow” – a strange, beautiful landscape of multi-hued rock in the heart of Utah’s canyon lands.

Connie and I drove to the end of a paved road in the park and continued on a dirt road to its end. We then hiked into a canyon that took us into an area filled with prehistoric history. Petro glyphs carved into the rock made me wonder about the people who took such time to make these curious figures that have lasted such a long time. They called these early people the Anastasie which when translated means “original people.” The Anastasie were here prior to all others. Other lasting remains of these people are their rock houses built under overhanging rock outcroppings, which we have seen on trips to other areas, including parts of Arizona.

After an extended stay near Capitol Reef National Park we traveled north through more of Utah’s differing geology, although a lot less colorful than what we had already driven through. Dinosaur National Monument was a total disappointment. The main visitor center was closed due to extensive structural damage. The ranger we talked to said it would be many years before funds were available to build another visitor center equal to the one that was originally built but is now damaged beyond repair. There were no dinosaur discovery sites to see unless we wanted to go on a lengthy and strenuous hike. We are still at the easy/slightly moderate hike stage, so we felt that our visit was a total bust.

Northern Utah and Southern Wyoming are home to Flaming Gorge National Recreation Area, which includes a lot of steep climbs and downhill grades at eight and ten percent. Grades like that are not a lot of fun when you have a motor home and tow vehicle at a combined 35,000 pounds wanting to do the exact opposite of what is required to keep life and limb safe. But our coach is sound and the beauty of the surrounding area is well worth the trip. We spent two days without hookups in one of many wooded campsites in Flaming Gorge.

Pushing further into Wyoming takes us through Rock Springs, famous only for the fact it has a new Wal-Mart and a Flying J truck stop. The next part of our journey took us through sagebrush and tumbleweed, but we were fortunate to see herds of antelope along the way. We did have one close encounter with a male antelope, but a combination of my good brakes and his quickness saved the day. Connie said she saw a Momma and two baby antelopes nearby. The antelope are magnificent animals and had us singing strains of “Home, Home on the Range . . .”

As we traversed the land, the Rocky Mountains started exposing their rugged, white snow-capped tops. The blackness of their barren rock is a striking backdrop to the green of the plains and the jagged edges rising vertically out of soft turf. This area is a land of extremes.

-----------------------------------------------------------

The small town of Pinedale is home to the Museum of the Mountain Man. The size of the museum and the scope of its exhibits surprised us. This museum is a real gem and not to be missed. Would you believe the Mountain Men were brought about by fashion? At the beginning of the 19^th century the beaver hat and men’s best suits made of beaver fur were supreme in the world of fashion, so popular in fact that the poor beaver’s skin became very sought after and expensive. As the supply of beaver in Europe dwindled, a group of frontiersmen, trappers and entrepreneurs set out to make their fortunes by traveling to the new frontier to find beaver and bring back their pelts. They brought with them skills learned in the East and adapted those skills to the rugged environment of the Rocky Mountain area and learned to survive in the harsh western environment.

What was known as the mountain man “rendezvous” grew out of necessity. Rather than having to travel the great distances required to bring their pelts to market, the mountain men would gather together and sell them to agents from the various fur traders. At first only a handful came to the rendezvous, but when somebody had the idea to bring liquor to the rendezvous, the number of attendees swelled into the hundreds. The Indians also came to these gatherings to trade what they had trapped.

Unfortunately, many of these men were never heard from again, but those who survived the weather, Indians, bears and other predators became known as Mountain Men. Their ability to hunt, trap and stay alive made these men into a legend, and they planted a firm American claim to much of the territory of the American West. Alas, another fashion whim – the silk hat and clothing – ended the demand for beaver in the 1840’s. Many of the Mountain Men subsequently became the scouts who led wagon trains to the West. The museum houses an extensive collection of artifacts and memorabilia of the Western fur trade, and chronicles the travels of such Mountain Men as Jim Bridger and Kit Carson, along with many others. The museum also chronicles John Jacob Astor’s formation of the Pacific Fur Company to conduct fur trade in the far West, and his plan to send ships around the horn to the mouth of the Columbia River to establish a trading post called Astoria, which we now know as Astoria, Oregon.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Yellowstone National Park! Everyone the world over knows about this land set aside long ago as a place people can go to see what wilderness looked like before man left his mark. Yellowstone was the world’s first national park, established in 1872. It is one of the largest national parks in the United States at just over 2 million acres. A giant caldera, the entire park is alive with volcanic activity from “Old Faithful” to fumaroles to pots of bubbling mud, all smelling of sulfur. The park is also home to aqua blue lakes, thundering waterfalls, beautiful vistas, and one of the world’s foremost wildlife sanctuaries.

We discovered that Bill Joyce and Diane Melde, two of our full-time RVing friends, were also staying in West Yellowstone. Together we set out to see the sights, sounds and smells of this fantastic landscape. Of course the first thing we had to see is “Old Faithful.” Every 90 minutes or so this geothermal geyser erupts with plumes of steam and hot water about sixty to seventy feet in the air, and this show is the main event at Yellowstone. The Old Faithful Inn is almost as legendary as fascinating as the geyser. It is said to be the world’s largest log and wood structure, and inside it looks like a giant tree house. We ate lunch at the Inn; the food was very good and not too pricey.

Throughout the day we stopped and walked the many other geothermal areas of hot, bubbling, boiling water with the most brilliant colors imaginable coming from bacteria. These bacteria thrive in this most hostile environment. Steam is everywhere and adds to the mystical aura of this land of enchantment. We stopped at Mammoth Hot Springs to check out the visitor center and to see a couple of videos about the park and its inhabitants. We had planned to take a walk around the area, but black skies and raindrops quickly changed our plans.

The buffalo are everywhere in Yellowstone. Twice we have had a slow escort as these shaggy behemoths walk onto the roadway and proceed at their own pace which is always S-L-O-W, but who cares since we were not in a rush! Several herds wander here without a care in the world. Numerous elk roam the area also and they, too, seem unaware of our presence.

-----------------------------------------------------------

From Surprise, AZ to Zion National Park in Utah.

To view pictures click on a picture and then navigate
using arrows and options

I think I am beginning to hear old Willy Nelson extolling the virtues of being “On the Road Again.” We have been so busy with our new casa that heading out in our old home on wheels is going to feel like we are on vacation. Yeah, they call it retirement but it has seemed a bit more like work these past few months with all that we have had to do to furnish our new home. But it truly is worth the time and effort. We have a very comfortable place to be in the winter, and having all of our family history around in a permanent setting gives us a sense of well being. I know now that Mom is happy that her stuff is all snugly and warm. Every once in a while the people in those old photographs seem to smile just a little more, and that old steamer trunk that my great grandfather brought to America from Sweden eons ago seems to like its new home. Life is good and we are very fortunate.

After having waited four months for two leather chairs to be made and delivered, the furniture store again promised that they would be arriving sometime “next week,” which was three weeks after the last time they told us that. After telling the salesman where he could put them when they came (literally), we said enough is enough, we are leaving town and the chairs will have to wait until our return. We will head north to Mund’s Park, which is just south of Flagstaff. The best part of Mund’s Park is the six friends from Happy Trails RV Resort that greeted us on our arrival. They are all working at the RV Park for the summer and they showed us all around the campground and later showed us around Flagstaff. In the evenings we played Mexican Train and had a lot of laughs. We are very fortunate to have friends like these.

Mund’s Park is at 6,700 foot elevation, which means cooler weather for folks from the Phoenix area trying to escape the heat. Just about anything you could want is here, a small grocery store, a very large hall with a stage, tables and a complete commercial kitchen. The pool and spa were not open but looked to be very nice. The park is mostly park models (12’x40’ manufactured homes); you can buy one of these for between $40,000 to $85,000 with porches and an attached family room. Open from May to October, the park models are summer quarters only due to the heavy snows in the wintertime. They are small but complete with everything one needs to live. You own the park model but not the lot it sits on – that comes with a yearly lease which currently runs around $3,000 for the season. There are no property taxes or other expenses associated with ownership, but not knowing from year to year how much the lease is going to be is not something I would do. There are also leased sites for those who want to bring their own RV for the season, and regular nightly rental RV sites like the one we are in.

The City of Flagstaff started out as a pole with a flag attached and it has grown a bit from that day. The University of Arizona campus sets the tone for this still small town, lots of young person hangouts, hippy shops etc., but there are also some very nice shops and art galleries to keep an old downtown area thriving. Anything and everything you could want is here also. We plan to come back some day when we have more time to visit the museums, art galleries, etc. but for now the open road awaits us -- after all, we have to be patriotic and spend our Government rebate check. We also must keep the oil companies from going under. Hah! Luckily I have some oil stocks which are doing quite well these days, so I think everyone should get out there on the road and put the pedal to the metal.

Driving past the road to the south rim of the Grand Canyon was difficult but thanks to a certain furniture company, we do not have reservations there ^%$#&*!! We hope to visit the Grand Canyon on our way back to Arizona in the fall.

Highway 87 winds through an area with some remarkable geologic formations. During a millennium of time, different layers of earth settled at different times, with very different colors -- red, white, brown, grey and everything in between. At some point all of the canyon lands were under a great sea, and the terrain was as flat as a pancake. Then somebody pulled the plug and drained the sea, leaving all the sediment to become land, and then came the rains which created rivers which eroded away and made canyons, including Zion and the Grand Canyon -- wow!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Canyon Lands we saw yesterday were just a hint of things to come. Zion National Park is one of the most remarkable places I have ever seen. We entered the park from the east side and made our way down a road some thought would be impossible to build. Hanging tenuously to the vertical faces of sedimentary rock, the narrow, steep and winding road traverses most of the park, but not before it runs thru two tunnels dug into the rock mountain, one of which is 1.1 miles long. Unfortunately these tunnels were built in the 1930’s and are only 13’6” at the crowned top. Our motor home is 12’9” so we must pay an extra fee because the park rangers have to stop all traffic going the opposite way while we drive down the center of the two lane tunnel. I loved blasting my air horn inside the tunnel -- I guess I am still a kid at heart.

After finally reaching the other side of Zion National Park, we checked into Watchman Campground. We have electric hookups here and being inside the park is great, especially having views out our windows that any artist would envy. Just a short walk away is the visitor center where shuttle buses pick up visitors and ferry them throughout the park. Some of the best hiking trails anywhere are just a shuttle ride away, and in the morning we have tickets for a shuttle ride and interpretive tour led by a park ranger.

We saw a movie about how the canyons came to be - 600 million years ago sand began creating dunes, one upon the other until weight and moisture cemented them into rock miles deep; then geologic forces (tectonics) pushed them up thousands of feet, creating what is called the Colorado Plateau. About 160 million years ago rain began falling and created rivers that cut their way down through the sedimentary rock to create what we see today.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We are up early the next morning and arrive at the visitor center for our interpretive tour of the park. The only problem is that we did not realize that Arizona and Utah are in different time zones, so we are an hour late and the tour has left without us -- rats. So today we take a shuttle bus on our own. The shuttle is the only way to get to many areas of the park. It is convenient, extremely efficient and free, something we tend not to think of with a government run entity. Traveling up Zion Parkway brings to mind words like monolithic, grandeur, incredible, holy ____, and oh my God! This place defies logic. How could all this have at one time been at the bottom of the ocean and now be at 10,000 feet? Most of all it reminds us of just how small and insignificant man is with a life span of just 100 years. These rocks towering thousands of feet in the air used to be a desert that would put the Sahara to shame, then they were under the sea and now they reach up to the sky and they are 600 million years old! It is difficult to comprehend.

We traveled to the end of the shuttle road and then hiked for a little more than a mile into an area known as “the River Walk.” The canyon walls are separated by the Virgin River, which gets narrower with each step. At the end of the paved walkway along the river we reach the beginning of the area known as “the Narrows” where our trail ends. The past winter brought lots of snow so to continue our trek we would have to wade in chest-deep, 48-degree water. We decide it’s time to turn around and go back. A few brave, young souls don waders and other gear and head into the water, but they quickly return.

It feels good to be once again hiking in an area full of nature at its finest. On the way back from our first hike we stopped at the famous Zion Lodge and had a terrific lunch. Our waitress was from Poland. We see a lot of foreign-born workers in our travels through national parks. We are hopeful tomorrow we will be able to do more hiking if our bodies are willing. We have not hiked in some time, and this area is truly a hiker’s paradise. Zion is the opposite of the Grand Canyon as here you are at the bottom of the canyon instead of the top. Zion was named by a Mormon, and according to scripture the name means quiet sanctum. Massive canyon walls ascend toward a brilliant blue sky. Sheer, vividly colored cliffs called “the Great White Throne, “the Court of the Patriarchs” and “Angels Landing” tower above as you follow the road along the floor of Zion Canyon. It has been said one can worship here without any temple. This does indeed feel like a sacred place.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kolob Canyon is reached by going outside Zion Park and driving 45 miles north. Although not as large as Zion, Kolob Canyon is an incredible sight. More colorful earth shoved thousands of feet skyward into fanciful shapes of monolithic rock. Here we took a hike along a ridge to the edge where you can see forever, almost 360 degrees. On the way up I stopped and took pictures of some desert plants giving birth to beautiful bouquets of bright, colorful flowers, a stark contrast to the prickly skin of the plant and drab brown of the earth. Our bodies are telling us we should have kept ourselves in better shape. There is a lot of climbing on the trails here, and some trails are beyond our capacity. George Burns said it best: “If I had known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All the towns along our way have visual reminders that this is Mormon country. Most towns have a statue depicting a man, woman and child representing the early settlers of this land. Our first outing to get some groceries was quite a surprise. We stopped at a gas station that had a mini mart and I asked the attendant if there was a ‘regular’ grocery store nearby; he said the closest was 18 miles. Disappointed, we bought some bologna, milk and a near stale loaf of bread from the mini mart. On the way back to the campground we happened to look to our right and there was a new looking grocery store that we could have walked to from our camp!!!! Grrrrrrr!

It has been very warm here, in the 90’s, so it will feel good to get to Bryce Canyon where the temperatures are about 15 degrees cooler because it is at a higher altitude.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leaving Zion with lots of good memories and pictures we head to Bryce Canyon. Ruby’s is the place to be whether you stay at Ruby’s Inn or Ruby’s RV Park. Ruby was a man (Reuben). He and his wife started the place about 90 years ago and, today, Ruby’s has everything -- grocery store, restaurants, Laundromat, RV Park, arcade, ice cream store, western art gallery, horseback rides, helicopter tours, and a rodeo that runs five nights of the week.

Zion was hot, about 90 degrees. A mere 75 miles north, Bryce Canyon is a chilly 40 degrees; it’s raining and blowing 20 to 30 mph! What a shock! It will be good to sleep with the blankets on. I am sure we will be kept even warmer with our furry friends, Harry and Poco, snuggled up close. From our front windshield we can see open meadows and green stands of pine trees. It is very quiet and our motor home surrounds us like a cocoon; this is the life, old Riley would have been envious.

I am at a loss of words to describe Bryce Canyon

so I will let the pictures above and

below speak for me.