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Archive for the ‘Journeys’ Category

“Let us not seek the Republican answer or the Democratic answer, but the right answer. Let us not seek to fix the blame for the past. Let us accept our own responsibility for the future.” – John F. Kennedy.

Adventures with Pepper: Day 34

Old cars and political observations were the highlights of this day on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

It was quite windy the day I drove the Blue Ridge Parkway from Meadows of Dan in Virginia to Julian Price State Park in North Carolina, a mere 117 miles away but which took all day drive.    Mother Nature’s bluster plucked fall’s leaves off the trees and sent them swirling across the parkway like pieces of colored glass in a kaleidoscope.            Along with listening to the hum of the wind as it glanced off Gypsy Lee, I heard several conversations this day that put my mind outside the parkway and tuned into the bluster of politicians’ blowing promises around they probably wouldn’t keep.

This tangled mass of leaves claiming this tree trunk reminded me of the tangled mass of people who together are America. Hopefully we can all learn to co-exist as peacefully. — Photo by Pat Bean

There was the conversation I overheard at the High Piney Spur Overlook. The guy doing the speaking had been showing off his shiny red restored vehicle, one of several I saw this day on the parkway. I suspected there was an old car rally being held somewhere along the route – or perhaps the parkway is simply a place old car enthusiasts like to drive their vehicles.            Anyway, the proud owner of the red vehicle was saying: “I don’t think the country’s as bad off as they are saying. People are eating out and buying new cars,” then with hardly a breath in-between thoughts, he added “It was that Iraqi war that caused all the problems, we didn’t need that.”

The night before, I had overheard a fellow sitting around a campfire at Meadows of Dan ask: “What do you think about where this country is heading?” I didn’t hear the answers because I was walking Pepper at the time, and she, not as big an eavesdropper as me, was pulling me along at quite a fast pace.

Later this day, when I bought some snacks after buying gas, I handed the clerk a dollar too much. He quickly handed it back to me, noting that he always tried to be honest.

“I guess that’s why I could never be a politician,” he then noted, before telling me to “Drive safely now.”

     Book Report: Travels with Maggie is up to 60, 424 words.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day

Bean’s Pat: Morning Mist http://tinyurl.com/azmp3vw I like the idea of each morning holding a mystery in waiting.

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“You can tell a lot about a fellow’s character by his way of eating jellybeans.” — Ronald Reagan

The majestic, panoramic views from the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains, which the parkway follows, can get to be a bit overwhelming. So I also spent some time focusing on nature’s little beauties, like this woolly bear caterpillar that made its way across my Meadows of Dan camp site. — Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper: Day 33

Meadows of Dan is a small farming community located just off the Blue Ridge Parkway. I stopped here because it had a nice RV park with Wi-Fi and I had a writing deadline to meet for American Profile Magazine http://blogs.americanprofile.com

Or like this tiny mushroom growing beneath a tree. — Photo by Pat Bean

It was a pleasant scenic park but nothing special to distinguish it from the other campgrounds I had stayed at along the way. Pepper tried to play with every dog we passed on our walks, and I enjoyed the smell of campfires drifting into my RV as I sat at my computer and wrote.

The best part of my two-day stay in Meadows of Dan was the morning I left.

A blue jay, its bright blue feathers a bit faded at this time of the year, sassed me good-bye as I drove out of the campground, making me smile at its determination to not move out of the road until Gypsy Lee was almost on top of it. While I didn’t see anything, perhaps it had found a tidbit of breakfast hiding among the gravel.

I stopped for gas in the tiny town, where an art show and farmer’s market was underway. The gas pump was an old-fashioned one that didn’t take debit or credit cards and so I had to go inside to pay.

And I loved the contrast of Virginia creeper in its fall dress against the rocks that lined the roadsides. — Photo by Pat Bean

I took time to roam through the country store that was filled with home-made crafts and other goodies, of which I bought bread, honey, plums and an honest-to-goodness fried apple pie, which I ate once I got back on the Blue Ridge Parkway to continue my journey.

The crust was moist and the taste of the grease it was fried in rich in my mouth. I savored every bite, including the rich apple filling that had  been lightly sweetened to perfection. Just writing about it now makes me feel like one of  Pavlov’s dogs.

Eating healthy, which I mostly do, is good for the body. But that apple pie was good for the soul. It’s probably a good thing I don’t live in Meadows of Dan, however. There’s probably only so much the soul can take.

Book Report: I’m happy to report that Travels with Maggie is now up to 60,119 words. I didn’t have internet at my last stop and so it was Travels with Maggie that got my attention.

Bean’s Pat: Hurricane Sandy Birding http://tinyurl.com/cwhadl4 In the aftermath of tragedy, life goes on for both humans and birds. Not to make light of the tragedy by noting this birding blog, I join all those mourning for the families of  those who lost loved ones.

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“Under a spreading chestnut tree, the village smithy stands …” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

One of hundreds of inviting places to have a picnic along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I loved the way the light shown through the trees on this shady spot. — Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper: Day 32 Continued

The Blue Ridge Parkway is not just about the fantastic landscape, it’s also about the people who made or make the Blue Ridge Mountains, which stretch from Pennsylvania to Georgia, their home.

Except for this couple, I had Rake’s Mill Pond site to myself. — Photo by Pat Bean

My companion on the journey, , besides Pepper,  was ranger and naturalist William Lord’s mile-marker guide published in 1982 by the American Chestnut Foundation. The American Chestnut, whose numbers in the Appalachian Mountains once numbered about three billion, were decimated by a blight in the early 1900s. Today one would be hard pressed to find a hundred mature American chestnuts.            The parkway, however, is home to a few immature trees as the battle to save them continues. Few chestnut trees today grow to more than about 20 feet before the blight fugal disease take them. The people working to save this species, like the chestnut foundation, is part of today’s story along the parkway.

I loved the markers along the Blue Ridge Parkway that helped me make sense of what I was seeing.

One person from the past was a miller named Rake, who built a small pond to have ready water for his grist mill. His advertising gimmick was to allow customers to fish in the pond while they waited for their meal to be ground.            I’m glad I stopped at this small, peaceful place, because the Marby Mill, the show mill of the parkway just up the road a bit, was too crowded for me to park Gypsy Lee, and she ain’t big

I was forced to pass this stopping spot up and continue on to Meadows of Dan, where I would spend the night.

Book Report: I’m in Nashville now, and while I’ve stuck around for a few days, I’ve taken tours and listened to country music, and Travels with Maggie got stuck again.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Marc and Angel http://tinyurl.com/95gpobj 10 Ways to Live Life with No Regrets. I’m not fond of promoting big blogs like this, but the advice these two hand out is just too good to pass up. I read their blog a lot.

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             “Every creature is better alive than dead, men and moose and pine trees, and he who understands it aright will rather preserve its life than destroy it.” – Henry David Thoreau.

Pepper pulled me down the trail, and I was hard pressed to keep up and not stumble. But when she pulled me back up the trail, I thought: “Oh what a good dog you are.” — Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper: Day 32

Oh goodie! I’ll be able to get a good picture of the Roanoke River. — Photo by Pat Bean

I’m suffering a distorted kind of writer’s block as I try to blog about my 466-mile journey down the Blue Ridge Parkway. It’s not that I don’t have things I want to tell you about this amazing adventure, but that I have too much to tell you and too many pictures to choose from that I took along the way.

My thoughts seem quite jumbled. I think I need to stop thinking so much about trying to put things in order and just get on with the writing, tackling it piece by piece for the next few days, or as Anne LaMott said so well, “Bird by Bird.”

I got a great shop of the bridge that crossed the Roanoke River, but the view of the river itself from the viewpoint was blocked by foliage. — Photo by Pat Bean

This day Pepper and I crossed the Roanoke River, and had a fantastic view of it from the bridge high above it. Of course there was no place to stop and take a picture, which was why I was happy to see a trail head leading down to a viewpoint right after we exited the bridge.

It was a great little hike, in which I was pulled both up and down the trail by Pepper, but no decent view of the river. I’d have to make sure I filed the bridge-crossing view somewhere in my little gray cells, I thought.

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“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.” — Frances Hodgson Burnett, “The Secret Garden”

Natural Bridge as painted by David Johnson in 1860.

Adventures with Pepper: Day 31 continued 

A 2005 photo of Natural Bridge — Wikipedia photo

I had a fantastic day’s drive this first day of my journey on the Blue Ridge Parkway, despite one big disappointment.

In my perusal of sights along the parkway, I had seen pictures of Natural Bridge and wanted to see it for myself. I didn’t know it was a tourist trap. The entrance to the bridge was on the inside of a gift shop, and a walk down to see it would cost me $20.

The cost of the ticket included some extras, but all I wanted was to see Mother Nature’s creation in a natural setting. When I saw the crowds, and realized the setting would be staged, I passed.

Instead, I back-tracked to Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Natural Bridge Campground, where I had reservations, and checked in early. I like the family atmosphere of Yogi’s campgrounds — and the 50 percent discount I got from this one as a Passport America member.

After hooking up, I had plenty of time to take Pepper for a nice walk down to the James River, which ran along one edge of the park. I had the river to myself, and sat for a while beside it at a picnic table watching Pepper chase fall leaves.

Book Report: Travels with Maggie is now up to 58,302 words.

Bean’s Pat: Discovering Myself http://tinyurl.com/9kfpuuk I’ve been traveling through fantastic fall color country. But this blogger has some fantastic shots of Minnesota’s fall colors. Take a look.

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Layers and layers of colors ending in blue. — Photo by Pat Bean

“Heroes take journeys, confront dragons, and discover the treasure of their true selves.”
—Carol Pearson

Adventures with Pepper: Day 29

The wildflower season along Skyline Trail had ended, but their were still a few flowers, like this small beauty with drops of rain still coating its leaves, to be seen. — Photo by Pat Bean

While the rain had stopped, the morning was still overcast. It was going to be a dreary drive through Shenandoah National Park, I thought.

But then Mother Nature took pity on me. I had just barely started my day’s drive down the park’s 105-mile Skyline Trail when the sun came out and bathed the landscape with its light.

Rain drops on leaves glistened in the sunlight and the passing foliage took on a warm glow.

The leaves of the maples, oaks, elms, beeches, aspens and many others, were a variegated palette of color. They reminded me of the mixed-color yarn my mother often used in making afghans. If she were using Mother Nature’s half-summer/half-autumn colors this day, her crocheted blankets would range in hues from green to lemon yellow with shades of orange, plum and scarlet in between.

Rag Mountain framed by an old dead tree I found interesting. — Photo by Pat Bean

Shenandoah National Park is a long, narrow mixture of lands and forests woven together in a landscape protected for both its beauty and its wildness. Its Skyline Trail is a narrow, winding, hilly road with a 35 mph speed limit designed as the way for people in cars to enjoy it.

With 75 overlooks – I know I stopped at least half of them – and inviting trails leading away from the smell of the road,  Pepper and I found many reasons to at least briefly abandon Gypsy Lee, out home on wheels. .

It took me over seven hours to get through the park.  It would have been longer if I hadn’t have wanted to get off the road and Gypsy Lee hooked up to civilization before dark.

Book Report: Just to keep it moving forward, I added another few words, bringing Travels with Maggie up to 56,103. I think for the next two weeks, until I get off the road for a bit, the book is truly going to be moving at a snail’s pace. I have writing commitments for Story Circle Network of which I’m a board member and other priorities this coming week, plus other priorities on this current journey. I hope I’m not just making excuses.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day

Bean’s Pat: Unusual Travel Tradition http://tinyurl.com/9f3amqx This blogger sees the funny side of travel. A new find for me.

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            “There’s a church in the valley in the wildwood. No lovelier place in the dell. No spot is so dear to my childhood, as the little brown church in the vale. Oh come, come, come, come. Come to the church in the wildwood. Oh, come to the church in the dell. No spot is so dear to my childhood as the little brown church in the dell.” – William S. Pitts

Adventures with Pepper: Day 27

            It was with a bit of reluctance that I left Carthage Gap and the family that had adopted me, but I was on the road in time to watch the sun come up.

The little brown church in the vale is in Nashua, Iowa. — Wikipedia photo

It never did. While the weather was calm, it was a completely overcast day.

But the roadside scenery, when I had time to look at it, more than made up for the missing sun.

But it was a hard day’s drive on Highway 50, through the Appalachian foothills, and the road got most of my attention. The route was mostly narrow, mostly winding, and the primary two directions it traveled was either up or down.

It wouldn’t have been too bad if I were going my usual 100 to 150 miles, but I was facing a journey of 270 miles. The distance wasn’t by choice, but because I couldn’t find a decent campground to spend the night until I reached Front Royal, Virginia.

I’m not sure why, but I suspect it was the many church steeples I was seeing as I drove through  West Virginia that caused me to start singing “The Church in the Wildwood” to Pepper. I hope she is tone-deaf because I couldn’t carry a tune if my life depended on it. Usually the only time I ever sing is when I’m driving, and usually only because I want to stay awake.

After many twists and turns and fall colors around most of them, I ended my day at Front Royal, Virginia. — Photo by Pat Bean

The hymn, written by Iowa school teacher William S. Pitts in 1857, was my grandmother’s favorite song.

When I did some research this morning, because I wondered if I had the lyrics right, I discovered an amazing story in the Des Moines Register about the song.

The article said Pitts wrote the song following a coach ride that stopped in Bradford, Iowa, where he saw a wooded valley in which he envisioned a little brown church.

Five years later, when he returned to that same Cedar River valley, the church he had imagined had been built, down to its brown color.

. During the winter of 1863-64, Pitts taught a singing class at Bradford Academy, and  had his class sing the song at the dedication of the new church in 1864. This was the first time the song was sung by anyone apart from Pitts himself, according to the newspaper article.

The second amazing thing is that the little brown church still exists. It’s a popular tourist attraction in Nashua, Iowa.

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            “If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the opposite direction.” —  Dietrich Bonhoeffer      

Adventures with Pepper: Day 25  

A picnic site along the Ohio River Scenic Byway. — Photo by Pat Bean

          Once again I decided to take the scenic route instead of the shortest route. I would continue following the Ohio River Scenic Byway, Highway 52, south. It would eventually turn north and become Highway 7, which would take me to my Carthage Gap destination near Coolville, Ohio.

But once again, I found myself on a scenic byway that wasn’t untraveled. That wasn’t too bad, I thought in the beginning. I needed a post office, and since I was driving down the main street of all these small towns, surely I would see one.

I knew to look for an American flag out in front. Well, I saw lots of American flags, indicating this was a pretty patriotic part of the country, but none of them were in front of post offices. I finally thought I had found one when I spotted a postal truck in downtown Gallipolis.

It wasn’t, but I did catch up with the postman hand delivering mail in the vicinity, and he took my envelope to mail.

I frequently saw pumpkins and mums for sale along the Ohio River Scenic Byway. — Photo by Pat Bean

The post was important to me because it contained my signed contract to blog three times a week for American Profile magazine. This was a writing job that I was thrilled to have gotten, especially since I would be blogging about this beautiful country I live in.

The blog is called Discovering America, and you can check it and the magazine’s other blogs out at: http://blogs.americanprofile.com

I guess I was still thinking about this great opportunity when I missed my turnoff to Carthage Gap.

I knew I had done something wrong when I found myself crossing the Ohio River into Ravenswood, West Virginia.

I immediately I got stopped by a Fall Harvest Parade being held in the town, but at least  that gave me some time to study my map to discover where I had gone wrong, and what to do about it.

The answer was to go back across the bridge to Ohio and take Highway 124 to Carthage Gap, which is exactly what I did when I could finally pull a U-turn.

Highway 124 was narrow, winding, sometimes steep and it followed closer to the Ohio River than I had been all day. And I had it practically to myself.

I’m sure glad I took that wrong turn.

            Book Report: No progress yet today. Too much other stuff to catch up on. I’ll get to Travels with Maggie later today – I hope.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Photovia http://tinyurl.com/cnung67 I May Die: I’ve been here a few times  in my travels, and know exactly how relived one is to find they’re right where they should be, and that the scary isn’t scary at all – just different. This post made me smile. Perhaps it will you, too.

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            “I venerate old age; and I love not the man who can look without emotion upon the sunset of life, when the dusk of evening begins to gather over the watery eye, and the shadows of twilight grow broader and deeper upon the understanding” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

This is how the sky looked when Pepper and I first went outside to watch the sun go down. — Photo by Pat Bean

Adventures with Pepper: Day 23-24

I left readers wondering about whether I would drive on the Kentucky or the Ohio side of the Ohio River today.  But the big question I had to answer first was whether I was going into Cincinnati to do a little sight-seeing, or was I going to skirt it.

And this is how it looked a few minutes later, when I thought it could get no more colorful. — Photo by Pat Bean

While I truly can enjoy big cities, I prefer to do so without an RV as my mode of transportation, and without a dog. Since I was stuck, happily I might add, with both, I decided to skirt the Queen City by taking Interstate 275 across the Ohio River and through Kentucky – Yes I know, I hate freeways but it was the easiest and quickest way to get away from city traffic.

Thankfully I was only on 275 for about 35 miles before I crossed back over the Ohio River on the other side of its big curve. Ohio came out the winner as the state of choice for the majority of today’s travel.

Once in Ohio, I veered south onto Highway 52, also known as the Ohio River Scenic Byway. I was seldom out of sight of the river the entire day.

But then it did. — Photo by Pat Bean

My route took me past Ulysses S. Grant’s birth place, where of course I stopped to investigate, but didn’t linger long.

I think I had wondered my brain out yesterday, for when I reread the notes I had jotted down on the drive to put into my journal later, there were none.  But I didn’t need notes to remember that the best part of the day was the evening, which I spent backed up to the Ohio River at Wolford’s Landing outside Portsmouth.

The day’s biggest thrill came when my canine traveling companion, Pepper, and I watched the sun go down over the Ohio River. I stayed an extra day at Wolford’s in hopes of a replay.

Book Report:  Travels With Maggie up 55,902 words.

The Wondering Wanderer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Travel Books http://tinyurl.com/cng8jzl This blog intrigued me because I’m a big fan of travel books, and of the five favorites this blogger mentioned, I hadn’t read four of them. Of course I’m going to check those four out. How about you?

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“Life is uncharted territory. It reveals its story one moment at a time.” – Leo F. Buscaqlia

Adventures with Pepper: The End of Day Ten  

Pepper was a little confused when this quaint burro didn’t want to play. It was one of several pieces of garden art that added charm to Wray, Colorado’s, Hitchin’ Post RV Park. — Photo by Pat Bean

When I left Loveland, Colorado, this morning I was facing what looked like a 160-mile drive ahead of me before I would likely come across an RV park — and the ratings for it  in my Trailer Life Directory left something to be desired.

Perhaps that was simply because it was small. At least that’s what I hoped.

My love of driving little-traveled back roads means it’s not usual for me to find myself in this kind of situation. And when it does, the questions start running through my head.

Would I find a safe place to stay the night? Would the people I meet be trustworthy? Would I take a wrong turn? Would my RV suffer a flat tire or engine trouble?  Would the showers be clean?

All these woulds are what made one couple I met decide, after just one day on the road in a  brand new 40-foot RV, that the traveling lifestyle wasn’t for them. Instead they chose a wooded RV park an hour away from their home, bought one of its spaces, parked their RV and used it as a getaway cottage.

Even if they weren’t rat-a-tat-tatting on the post, I found these woodpeckers charming. — Photo by Pat Bean

A creative way to go, I thought, when the female half of the couple told me about their decision as we shared the park’s Laundromat at her home away from home.

But it’s not my way. Not knowing what lies ahead is part of the adventure.

I’ve learned two things over the years that ease my mind about facing the unknown.

The first, which I learned after suffering worn disk brake pads that left Gypsy Lee crying ouch every time I touched the brake pedal, was that I trusted myself to solve whatever problem fate threw at me.  In this case it meant sitting at Wiser State Park near Poteau, Oklahoma, for several days, while new brake pads for my RV were shipped in to a Poteau tire shop, as none were to be found in the small town.

And who doesn’t get a smile on their face when a deer emerges from the woods. While certainly not great art, the small wildlife statues did make me feel good about the place I had chosen to spend the night. — Photo by Pat Bean

The second is a Plan B. Once it was a night spent in a Wal-Mart parking lot to escape driving in a storm, and several times it’s been to keep driving until I do find a place that looks safe.

That would have meant quite a bit farther this day if the Wray, Colorado, place didn’t work out, I had noted when planning the day’s driving route.

Thankfully I didn’t have to do that. Wray’s Hitchin’ Post RV Park, despite its faded entrance sign, turned out to be a clean little gem run by a little old lady who used a walker to move about.

Book Report: Travels with Maggie up to 53,606 words.

The Wondering Wandrer’s blog pick of the day.

Bean’s Pat: Catch of the Day: http://tinyurl.com/dy2alca There’s more to getting up early to go fishing than catching fish.

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