I decided to wait to write this final blog on my solo trip until I got back home safely and I could report that my first trip without a support group is a fait accompli. I arrived home shortly before noon, parked Agatha without wiping anything out, and, unlike my trip to Backbone last year, there has been no derecho. The drive was easy and pleasant with no wrong turns. The only glitch came on my departure. I suppose in anticipation of near freezing temperatures last night, the park had closed the dump station. I bid Backbone's iconic boathouse a fond farewell and headed out. Palisades State Park was right on my way home, so I pulled in there, paid a small fee, and dumped the tanks. The weather gurus had things flipped a little. Wednesday was supposed to be rainy and Thursday cool but sunny. Instead, Wednesday was beautiful in the morning, turning cloudy but dry in the afternoon. Thursday morning, I woke up to rain with intermittent drizzle. They were right about the cool part. Since I am old, I opted to stick to the roads for my morning hike, foregoing the steep trails carpeted with wet leaves. I encountered three deer who gave me the usual "Who let you in?" stare before going about their business. It was drizzly but still pretty. The whole stay, the campground was extremely quiet with only five or six other campers, although every site was reserved for the weekend. I read, finally did a little writing, and napped. I did very little cooking because I had stocked the freezer with leftover meat loaf, rice and chorizo stew, apple crisp, and other goodies for a quick zap in the microwave. All in all, it was an enjoyable finish for the season. Now to the saddest part of a camper's year--unloading and storing linens and staples and getting read to winterize.
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Yesterday's forecast proved quite inaccurate with a beautiful sunny morning and clouds but no rain in the afternoon. I headed out on the West Lake Trail, which has lots of ups and downs. I thought I could get to the Devil's Backbone Trail but didn't go far enough. I still got in about 3 1/2 miles by the time I got back. Then my neighbors told be they hiked 8 miles on that trail! But it was a beautiful day for it. After my lunch I had to have a long nap to recover. It's very quiet here since there are a whopping seven other campers in the campground and one of those left this morning. I would like to say I got some writing done, but it's been so long, I had to reread what I had and didn't get any farther. Maybe today. Because the rain arrived in the night along with a front that calls for wind and temps in the low 50s, followed by a frost warning for tonight! I will try and get another walk in this morning, but will stick to the roads. I have always enjoyed the stories of exploits of Charles Lindbergh and Amelia Earhart, although I never had any desire to fly. I left that up to my intrepid husband. But ever since I purchased my little motor home over a year ago, I have wanted to try a solo trip. I love Backbone State Park, especially in the fall and it has good internet reception so it was a natural choice. Two concerns surfaced Tuesday morning before I left. I had called the park to see if they were still selling firewood in the campground and the ranger said "Not at this time of the year." Well, there are usually farms in the area who have firewood for sale, so I hoped to pick some up along the way since, once I am set up, it's not simple to unhook and wander about the countryside. It also occurred to me (after I talked to the ranger, of course) that many parks turn off their water around October 15. I had about 2/3 of a tank (according to the gauges, which are notoriously inaccurate) and thought I could make it three days but wasn't positive. So like the pioneers, I started out my journey worrying about fire and water. It was a lovely drive north and little traffic. I checked several convenience stores, who sometimes carry wood, but not "at this time of the year," apparently. However, a private farm right at the park entrance had a cart with $5 bundles so I stopped and grabbed a couple. Yes, I did pay for them. And lo and behold, the water is still on at the park! Although why they would put the fresh water supply on a one way OUT of the campground so that you have to circle the entire place baffles me. I got set up in a nice pull through site that I have used before, and with the aid of boards, Agatha is pretty much level. The temps warmed up to about 75 and it was a beautiful evening with a full moon. There are very few other campers here, but I did speak to a couple from Wisconsin who came south looking warmer weather in Iowa. (?!?) I also had a visit from an old friend and built a passable fire. All of the bugs in the county are putting in a final appearance--flies, box elder bugs, stink bugs, orange beetles, and a few mosquitos.
Today's forecast is for rain this afternoon--good time for some writing and reading. I will finish The Great Deluge by Douglas Brinkley about Hurricane Katrina and hope that the outside conditions don't lend too much realism. Not to me, or even the camping season, I hope, but to the Pleasant Creek trip. Tuesday morning, before Marcia and Harlan left, we hiked the "Interpretive trail.' Apparently you should interpret the numbered posts along the trail, but there was no guide that we could find. However, we still enjoyed the wild asters and the last of the goldenrod. At the top of a hill, we discovered Lewis Bottoms Cemetery, an old but well maintained site that seemed to be dominated by three family names. Old stones that have started to crumble are embedded in the ground. We saw constant evidence of the derecho--trees either bent by the winds or snapped off like toothpicks. We also made a couple of short road trips--one day for firewood and a few groceries and one day to a nearby apple orchard, where we snagged some apple cider donuts. We also had lovely campfires with a great view of the lake and sunset. Other than that, this was one of those trips to catch up on reading and napping. Pleasant Creek State Recreation Area would be a very pleasant place if the temperatures were more like late September instead of mid-July. I was here in June of 2020, and it is so sad to see the loss of trees resulting from the August derecho. Everywhere in the woods surrounding the campground, broken and bent trees lean to the east and large bare patches in the campsites mark the loss of crucial shade trees. Yesterday, the combination of the high temps and no shade turned Agatha into a nice little oven. Since my power issue was resolved, I can run the A/C but sitting inside with shades drawn, everything closed up, and the A/C churning away kind of defeats the purpose of camping. I did it anyway for a while in the afternoon and got in a little napping and reading. It is a beautiful spot, though, and we did get a hike in yesterday morning. Ken and Harriet and I were joined by my long-time ACT friend (and boss!) Mrcia and her husband Harlan. They provided yummy pulled pork sandwiches and kale salad plus apple cake the first night. Last night Ken smoked chicken--some of the best I've ever eaten. This morning I will get a walk in earlier but the rest of today and tomorrow is looking like a repeat of yesterday. An unexpected camping opportunity popped up when Ken and Harriet were asked to fill in as camp hosts this week at Oakland Mills County Park south of Mount Pleasant, Iowa. It's a small campground and they expected a quiet week, so they encouraged others of our camping group to join them. Several were busy but Letha and I decided to check it out. It's a beautiful spot on the Skunk River. The photo is one Letha took of the sunrise on an early walk with her dog. We arrived on Wednesday afternoon in perfect weather, but found that the hosts' week had been less than quiet. There had been a camper-rockin' storm Monday night, several incidents with squatters, and a couple of recalcitrant campers, but there also were some interesting visitors. Three flint-knappers sat around their campsites and practiced their craft of chipping rocks to make stone tools--arrowheads, knife blades, etc. They produced amazing work with a wide variety of colorful rocks. When we asked what they did with them when they were finished, one man answered "Make another one." A tent camper was also in the area with a 1919 Model T that he had built from parts. He spent every day on the road with cohorts, visiting interesting spots in the area. We hiked up the bluff a couple of times and visited the old cemetery. Many of the stones predate the Civil War. The earliest one we found was 1827. A swinging bridge crosses a ravine but I passed on that. An old iron and wood bridge still stands and is for pedestrian use only. It was great for viewing the rise of the moon and the sun. We were careful to follow the rules On Thursday, we were joined by Patti and Jeff, classmates of Harriet's and former students of mine. Per usual, we did not starve--especially with Italian beef sandwiches and potato salad on Thursday and Ken's smoked pork loin and Patti and Jeff's cherry cobbler in the Dutch oven on Friday. Agatha performed beautifully, which is a good thing because I returned home yesterday, did laundry and repacked to head up to Pleasant Creek this afternoon for a few days.
As planned, Saturday was a full day. We enjoyed a great brunch at Barn Happy. Besides excellent food, every table had a large bouquet of fresh garden flowers. The walls were lined with Iowa-made items such as fudge, caramels, photography and other artwork, pottery, caramels, linens, and did I mention caramels? And there's a second floor with more items, so we did a little shopping. We had to hit the road when Carol tried to steal the gnomes. Next was Artapalooza in downtown Cedar Falls. We ducked in and out of the shops as well to take advantage of the A/C since the temps by then were warmer than they need to be in September. Back at the campground, a little rest was necessary to prepare for the wonderful dinner courtesy of Lydia's husband Ali. It was a delicious chicken dish with rice, of which I can't remember the name. A feeble attempt at karaoke followed, but this old lady surrendered to the mosquitos and headed inside. All in all, a great weekend!
So after three weeks, Agatha and I are back on the road again. So far, the power issue seems to be fixed and, like the hardy pioneers that we are, we are able to keep our phones, Kindles, and computers charged. My friend Ginge and I are at George Wyth State Park near Cedar Falls for a weekend with the Midwest Glampers. Thursday night was a beautiful, cool evening with a lovely sunset through the trees to our west. We enjoyed a quick supper of brats, sweet potatoes, and melon and a campfire with the group to polish off the evening. George Wyth has lots of great trails, both biking and walking. Friday morning, a group of us did a couple of miles on one set of trails, only getting lost once or twice. We came across a bird-watching area and enjoyed the woods but didn't see much wildlife. Late afternoon found us carpooling to Three Pines Farm, about 15 minutes away. This fifth generation farm offers folk school classes in everything from photography to sourdough bread making, goat and piglet yoga, and incredible homemade ice cream sandwiches. We made the acquaintance of Leonard the Llama, Lola the pig and Glen the goat (who seems to be in trouble most of the time.) The old barn has been restored as a meeting and event venue. The ice cream sandwiches, made from homemade ice cream between lacy homemade cookies featured mint chocolate chip, vanilla, lemon, or two butter bourbon ice cream. Fantastic. Kara, the owner, filled us in on the history of the farm. We finished off the evening with a great potluck and campfire. Today will be a full day also. Brunch and shopping at Barn Happy and then Artapalooza in down town Cedar Falls. A special treat is in store for supper. Lydia's husband Ali is going to fix us a Middle Eastern dinner. The only fly in the ointment so to speak has been a mosquito and his five million best friends.
I spent five days in another internet desert. A little better than Lake Darling, but not much. A good sized group has been making the trek to Howell Station at Red Rock Lake for several years in August. Several of the group journey up to State Fair, some to watch grandchildren show cattle; some just to enjoy the fair. But the campground is awesome. Sites are well-spaced out and the trees haven't felt the ravages of the ash bore or the derecho as much as many Iowa Parks. It has become tradition to make at least one trek into Pella: to the bakeries and meat market and of course the quilt shop. Possibly the quilt shop owner trades cars or books a vacation after our stop there. They do pretty well at the bakery, too. Because we like to eat, as you may have gathered from previous blogs, one of the traditional breakfasts is French toast from the bakery cinnamon bread topped by Tom's 'heart attack syrup'. This year was a little different twist on the syrup but yummy all the same. Evening meals included burgers, pulled pork and smoked meat loaf. And one dessert per meal is never enough. There were biking, hiking, table games, and campfires. All in all, a great week. The fly in the ointment came when the great weather turned a little more humid on the last afternoon. I turner on the camper A/C in the afternoon and shortly after the power to the whole camper went out. We tried all of the usual fixes but I opened the windows, slept through the night, and left for home without coffee or hot water for dishes. Such hardships.
So I made Agatha and appointment and she is currently being treated for a faulty transfer switch. Meanwhile, my car had to have brakes repaired. I'm thinking about a horse and buggy. I also debated about calling this entry "Detour" or "How I Found 151." This was not about camping, but rather a quick trip in my car to Appleton for a cousin's wedding. He is the youngest of my cousins and the director of bands at Lawrence University, so I had high hopes for the music at the ceremony. I was not disappointed, but at the same time immensely surprised. More about that later. The journey began Friday morning up 151 through Anamosa , Dubuque, and southwestern Wisconsin. Light traffic, beautiful scenery, easy peasy. Then 151 rambles around the south and east side of Madison, escaping through exits, leaping other roads, and evading logic like a cross between a badger and a chameleon. Finally I emerged on the north side, headed to Oshkosh and Appleton. The road shrunk to two lanes and traffic suddenly slowed to a crawl behind a tractor and wagon. There were several cars ahead of me and two behind, followed by a semi. We plodded along at 20 mph for a few minutes until the semi decided to try and pass the whole line in a tight no passing zone. A cacophony of honks drove him back in line until we got to a hill with a passing lane. The tractor pulled over and the cars ahead of me began to pull ahead, but it wasn't fast enough for the semi. He pulled to the right lane and managed to squeeze back in line a couple of cars ahead of me, causing a screeching of brakes and more horns. As these things usually happen, miles later when I reached Oshkosh, he was still less than a quarter of a mile ahead of me so he didn't gain much. I decided that coming home on Saturday, I would do whatever necessary to avoid Madison. The problem is that 75% of the roads in Wisconsin are under construction and the other 25% are detours. After a very convoluted route I could never repeat, I finally reached the little country church pictured and 151 WEST of Madison. I won't tell you how long it took me to make the 4 1/2 hour journey home. However, on Friday, I reached my hotel in time to have a short visit with my sister and brother-in-law from Georgia, shower, and head to the wedding. It was being held in the backyard at my cousin's home in the little town of Sherwood about a half hour drive. This is a second marriage for Andy and his bride, Kelly. The lawn was punctuated by lovely old trees and edged with landscaped areas. The weather couldn't have been better. A jazz trio of, I assume, some of Andy's students played soft background music as people milled around visiting. And then the wedding began. As I said, I expected the music to be stellar but traditional--classical pieces. I did not expect the wedding part to dance down the aisle while the soloist sang I Think I Wanna Marry You! First, of course, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, the mother of the bride with her escorts (pictured) and then Andy dancing with his two grown children, Sam and Sophie. Finally, Kelly with her two children. The ceremony that followed included a couple of more traditional pieces by Sam and Sophie on the bassoon and harp and a trombone and bassoon duet by a couple of Andy's colleagues. But the entertainment didn't end with the ceremony. After a delightful buffet, guests were treated to a bride and groom dance to Fly me to the Moon, ala Fred and Ginger, and a performance by the bride for her new husband with several friends to Today's Your Wedding Day. And of course, that old wedding classic, The Devil Went Down to Georgia, by Andy and his best man. And of course there was cake. |
AuthorSome random thoughts about writing, camping, and eating. Archives
April 2024
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