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Posts Tagged ‘RV travel’

Natural Falls State Park, Oklahoma

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on November 18, 2010| 3 Comments »

Natural Falls -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

“To be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wildflower in spring — these are some of the rewards of the simple life. — John Burroughs

Natural Falls State Park

The 1974 movie version of “Where the Red Fern Grows,” the story of the love between a boy and his dogs, was shot here where this 77-foot waterfall flows year-round. Trails take you both above and below this scenic Ozarks’ spot, which is located near where Cherokees were forcibly marched during the infamous Trail of  Tears in the 1830s.

I viewed it on a hot late spring day and relished the coolness that radiated from its flow.

The park is located off Highway 412,  six miles west of Siloam Springs, and has excellent full hook-up sites for RVs. If you can, plan to stay awhile.  

 

 



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Jewels of the Jewel

Posted in Nature, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , on November 17, 2010| Leave a Comment »

 
 

Not all beauty lies in the open air. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie   

 
 
 

The walls of Jewel Cave flow with images created by dripping water. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

“Calmness of mind is one of the beautiful jewels of wisdom.”  James Allen

While Maggie and I spend the next couple of months visiting with loved ones in Texas, I thought I’d share with readers and fellow travelers a few places that have enchanted, delighted, amused or awed me during my past six years of being on the road.

Jewel Cave National Monument

Located in South Dakota’s Black Hills near Custer, Jewel Cave is the second known largest in the world. Only Kentucky’s  Mammoth Cave is larger.  Calcite deposits in the wet part of the cave and gypsun deposits in the drier areas over a 60 million period are responsible for the cave’s fanciful formations.

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The Fat Lady Hasn’t Sung so the Journey’s Not Over

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on November 16, 2010| Leave a Comment »

 

A sulphur cloud butterfly was still flitting when I reached Arkansas -- Photo by Pat Bean

“Time is a companion that goes with us on a journey. It reminds us to cherish each moment because it will never come again.” Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

And the Gardenia's were still blooming. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

Come take a jaunt with me, I asked, as I headed to Idaho’s Panhandle some seven months ago. Along the way I gathered new friends and five new life birds and enjoyed the company of old friends and all the other birds along the way.

I saw the gaping hole in Mount St. Helens that was created when the volcanic mountain blew its top. I fed wild turkeys from my hand and almost got blown to Kansas during a West Texas wind storm. I gazed at waterfalls and glaciers on Mount Ranier, took a boat ride on a deep lake where the Navy conducts submarine experiments, and survived a blowout in my RV.

Since leaving Texas in April, I’ve also put an extra 6,000 miles on Gypsy Lee, bringing her total now up to 112,000 miles that we’ve shared on the road together. Thankfully, she still acts like she’s got many more miles in her. I know I do.

Meanwhile, after seven months away it was good to see family again. My two daughters were first. I stopped overnight in Dallas after leaving Vernon to spend an evening with my oldest daughter. Then it was on to Camden, Arkansas, where my youngest daughter lives. I spent a week there babysitting three grandsons while their parents took off for business and pleasure to San Diego.

The boys – 9, 10 and 11 – and I had a great time. We rode bikes, skinned knees, played games and watched Disney videos together. It seemed as if their parents returned home much too quickly.

 

Grandsons Patrick, JJ and Tony look pleased with themselves after scrubing down Gypsy Lee for their Nana. -- Photo by Pat bean

But soon Maggie and my itchy feet were ready to return to the road. As Jack Kerouac said; “What is that feeling when you’re driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? It’s the too-huge world vaulting us, and its good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”

 My travels will continue and you’re still welcome to come along.

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Eggs for the Road

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , on November 12, 2010| 2 Comments »

  “A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.” — Nernard Meltzer

Great-tailed grackles entertain me while I eat my eggs. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Travels With Maggie

   My long-time Utah friend, Kim, cooks the best eggs I’ve ever tasted. Nothing fancy, just plain eggs cooked in butter. Her whites are solid and firm while her yolks are left soft enough to spread out over the plate when broken. The image of these beautiful eggs on a plate beside a piece of buttered toast that I would use to sop up the last drop of golden goodness flickered through my head during my walk with Maggie.

I think the golden sunrise I had just viewed made me think of the gooey roundness of Kim’s perfectly cooked eggs. Or it could be I was just hungry, I decided when the image stayed with me.

Now while I consider myself a good cook – as do my grandkids who urge me to cook for them when I visit – eggs have always been my nemesis. I either undercook the whites or overcook the yolks. I think it has something to do with my lack of patience. Even so, I knew I wanted eggs before I got back on the road for the 200-plus miles I needed to drive today.

I settled for my version of a quick egg breakfast for the road without leaving a single dish to wash up after the meal. I call it my King/Donald/Jack RV Breakfast.

In a small sturdy paper bowl, I break three eggs and lightly scramble. Two are adequate unless you plan to share with a doe-eyed black cocker spaniel whom you know is going to drool as she watches you eat. To this I add two sliced cooked link sausages and a tiny bit of seasoned salt with garlic.

I pop the bowl in the microwave for one minute – covered with a second paper bowl that I use afterward to hold Maggie’s portion. In the meantime I pop two slices of whole grain bread into my toaster. When the minute is up, I take the bowl out of the microwave, stir it up (using a plastic throw away spoon) and add a bit of grated cheese and pop it back in the microwave for another 30 seconds, or until done to preference. I like my scrambled eggs soft and moist not dry.

Maggie waiting for the last bite -- Photo by Pat Bean

While this cooks, I butter my toast and put away the toaster. After giving Maggie her generous portion of the egg mixture, I laddle the rest onto the bread and sit at my table and stare out at the birds while I eat. Maggie always finishes first and usually gets the last bite of mine.
The dirty bowls and plastic silverware go into the trash and once again I find myself driving down the road. Almost before I get out of the RV park, Maggie is snoozing in her co-pilot seat beside me. We are both contented travelers.

                                                     Copyrighted by Pat Bean 

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Too Many Places, Too Little Time

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 4, 2010| 2 Comments »

  “Sometimes if you stand on the bottom rail of a bridge and lean over to watch the river slipping slow away beneath you, you will suddenly know everything there is to be known.” — Winnie the Pooh

 

The bridge across the Rio Grande Gorge near Taos, New Mexico. The river 1,500 feet below is near the beginning of a nearly 2,000 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Travels With Maggie

 

Rio Grande Gorge State Park

Just a few miles past Taos, which I drove through without stopping, I came upon Rio Grande Gorge State Park. Here I did call a brief stop to my travels. I mean who can resist at least a peak at a 1,500-foot deep gorge – and a river that one knows is near the start of an almost 2,000 mile journey to the Gulf of Mexico.

As I looked down at the river from the park’s high, fenced overlook, I thought about a day at Big Bend State Park in Texas when a grandson and I had waded in its shallow warm waters and stared across it at Mexico. Most of the clear rushing water I was looking at below would never make it that far. Human development sometimes reduces the flow reaching the gulf to merely a trickle. Gypsy Lee settled in for the night in Clayton, New Mexico. Photo by Pat Bean

Soon, I was back on the road. I still had 150 more miles to drive before I could stop for the night. I seldom have such a long driving day, but on this trip I was facing a deadline to be in Arkansas to babysit three grandsons for a week – and I only had three more days to get there. 

I spent the night in Clayton, New Mexico, a small town where one has to drive 89 miles to the nearest Walmart, or so the desk clerk told me when she checked me in at the only RV park for miles around.

The town, a former livestock shipping center, sits along the old Cimarron Cutoff of the Santa Fe Trail. I had passed through Cimarron earlier in the day and had been seeing historic roadsigns since then telling me I was following the old cattle trail.

The Clayton KOA was a quiet, clean place with a run-down miniature golf course and dinosaur creations that had seen better days. I watched a croaking murder of crows fly past in search of a roosting spot as we took our evening stroll. Maggie sniffed around at the feet of the dilapidated dinosaurs, which advertised nearby Clayton Lake State Park where tracks of these prehistoric beasts attract passing tourists.

 

Statues showing their age advertise to visitors that dinosaurs once roamed the area. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Perhaps next time I pass through the area I wouldn’t be on a deadline and could do my own investigation of them. Dr. Seuss’ words: “Oh the places you’ll go, and the things you’ll see,” then flowed through my brain for the umpteenth time. I sighed – and added: “Too many places, too little time.”

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River Music Serenades an Unconnected World

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , on October 28, 2010| 1 Comment »

 

And the Fish

The owl

“He who postpones the hour of living is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.” — Horace

Travel’s With Maggie

Today’s drive took me from Southern Utah’s red-rock high desert to Colorado’s San Juan National Forest. I spent the night at an RV park just outside of Pagosa Springs parked next to the Blanco River. It doesn’t get much better than this, I thought.

The Blanco River as seen from my RV window. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 

Our early September afternoon arrival left plenty of time for Maggie and I to take a hike along the river bank and among the wildflowers. Maggie kept her nose to the ground in search of exotic smells to follow, while I looked to the sky. A circling red-tailed hawk overhead drew my attention, as did a couple of chattering magpies in a nearby cottonwood tree.

I pity the poor person whose heart doesn’t skip a beat at the sight of this hawk’s red tail spread wide and flashing in the sunlight. On the other hand, I think some people pity my love for the playful but loud, long-tailed magpies they consider nuisance birds. Being a Texan not known for her quiet ways, I always feel these birds and I share a connection.

This would be the fourth time I had stayed at this Blanco River RV Park off Highway 84. It’s a welcome and convenient spot for campers traveling between Utah and Texas, a trip I’ve made annually since becoming a full-time RV-er. Each visit here has left me enchanted with both the setting and the little touches the campground owners have made to make the place special.

Modern day rock art -- Photo by Pat Bean

 I consider the rocks someone has painted and scattered about the park as fascinating as I find the pictographs and petroglyphs of earlier cultures.

 As I watched the sun disappear at the end of the day, a feeling of contentment oozed from my  pores. I realized I didn’t miss at all the fact that I had no phone, internet or television connections. Tomorrow would be soon enough to hook back up to the world.

Soon after, Maggie and I crawled into bed and went to sleep to the music of the river rippling over rocks.

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Kokopelli and the Stork Share a Common Goal

Posted in Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on October 26, 2010| 5 Comments »

Downtown Moab with its red-rock backdrop. -- Photo by Pat Bean

“Every crag and gnarled tree and lonely valley has its own strange and graceful legend attached to it.” — Douglas Hyde

Travels With Maggie

 Images of the humpbacked flute player, known as Kokopelli – sometimes depicted with an exaggerated pecker – is a common sight around Moab. You can find evidence of this southwest Indian fertility deity all around the city’s arch, cave and red-rock landscape. And he’s been around for over 3,000 years.

Kokopelli petroglyph

I was fortunate that in the 1990s a Moab native led me on a hike to see an ancient Kokopelli image that had been carved in stone. Because of vandalism, the location of some of the more precious of these historical links to the past are now not divulged to the general public. I thought at the time that it was a horrid shame that the destructive action of a few were depriving so many respectful viewers of the past from access.

Archeological evidence of Kokopelli was first found on similar petroglyphs across the southwest, and historians place the flute player’s beginnings to the Pueblo and Aztec Indian eras. In some of these myths, the hump on his back is said to be babies that he delivers to young women. In this, he’s shares a common goal with our own culture’s baby-delivering stork.

In Moab today, however, Kokopelli is often seen as an advertising gimmick. Both a local lodge and art gallery

The Moab Diner's version of Kokopelli. -- Photo by Pat Bean

 plagiarize his name and image. You can also take a Kokopelli hot air balloon ride or a Kokopelli bicycle tour on the Kokopelli Trail that continues into Colorado.

My thoughts about Kokopelli began this morning at breakfast at the Moab

Modern day Kokopelli

 Diner, which if you ever visit this fascinating city you should not miss. It has the best breakfast in town. This small restaurant is also known for its backward clock, which baffles tourists until they realize what’s different.

As I ate my sausage and eggs and studied a map for my day’s drive, my eyes were caught by another difference. The neon wall hanging of Kokopelli was a chicken. I, of course, had to go get my camera and take a picture. It’s these little kinds of oddities that add spice to my travels.

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High Cost of Going to the Bathroom

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on October 21, 2010| 2 Comments »

 

Utah's new Tie Fork Rest Stop near Soldier Summit on Highway 6. --Photo by Pat Bean

“Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pound ought and six, result misery.” — Charles Dickens

Travels With Maggie

My first day back on the road after leaving Ogden took me to Moab on Utah roads I had traveled many times before. Traffic, as usual, was horrid until I turned off Interstate 15 and began winding my way up Spanish Fork Canyon on Highway 6.

Winter sunset on Mount Timpanogas. Photo courtesy of Wikipedia

I had passed this same way in April, Then the mountains had been dressed in snow. Now, in late September, they look naked, especially the 11,749-foot Mount Timpanogas. Its profile is said to be that of a sleeping Indian maiden, the legend of which is yet another version of the Romeo and Juliet story.

A cave sits within the mountain that contains a geological feature, enhanced by red lights, that is said to be the maiden’s heart.

Recollections of that powerful image, along with the effort of the steep mile and a half hike up the mountain to see it, tickled my brain as I drove past Provo this day. I prefer driving to the sound of silence instead of music to better focus on such memories and the current passing landscape.

Near Soldier Summit, which marks the end or beginning of Spanish Fork Canyon depending on which way you’re headed, a new sight greeted me, one that hadn’t been there when I had passed this way earlier. Now sitting at Milepost 202 on Highway 6 was the new Tie Fork Rest Stop.

Shiny and bright but going nowhere. -- Photo by Pat Bean

Dedicated just a month earlier, it was not just any old rest stop.Its place to do business looked more like a cathedral than an outhouse.

A high two-story building enclosed the restrooms and the pit stop was designed like a railroad roundhouse, complete with a shiny red and black engine with No. 435 emblazoned on its sides. The site was well landscaped with plenty of picnic tables scattered around for the outdoor dining pleasure of visitors, of which this day there were quite a few. I suspected it was the actual destination for some curious locals as well as a rest stop for us travelers.

Maggie got to enjoy the stop, too, as there was an area marked off just for pets.

The project is supposed to be in remembrance of the old railroad town of Tucker located just two miles away. I think I would have enjoyed it more if my thoughts hadn’t strayed to its cost.

Tie Fork's cathedral ceiling restroom

It seemed a bit too extravagant for me when our country is going through such economic woes. I suspected the money spent here could have been more thoughtfully spent reducing the country’s debt or better educating its children.

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Travels With Maggie: Neither Rain Nor Cough Kept the Birds Away

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on June 19, 2010| Leave a Comment »

 

Red-breasted nuthatch ... Wikipedia photo

“To feel keenly the poetry of a morning’s roses, one has to have just escaped from the claws of this vulture which we call sickness.” Henri Frederic Amiel.

Farragut State Park

My arrival at Farragut State Park, a former naval base where nearly 300,000 sailors were trained during World War II was greeted by rain, more rain and then bronchial sickness. For two weeks straight, neither the rain nor my cough let up. Here I was in the beautiful Idaho Panhandle, my RV sitting in the middle of a majestic Douglas Fir and Ponderosa Pine grove, and all I could do was stare out the window at it. I didn’t even have Internet which, by the way, is the reason my normal Monday and Friday blogs have been irregular lately.

Thank goodness I at least had birds to keep me company. The morning after my arrival, before I got sick, I had put out bird seed and a hummingbird feeder. It didn’t take my feathered friends long to find the resources. The robins and dark-eyed juncos, both ground feeders, arrived first. A Black-chinned hummingbird claimed the hanging nectar.  Then came the chickadees, both chestnut-backed and mountain species.  They dee-dee-deed for me as they flittered among the trees every time the rain let up for a little bit.

Mourning doves then showed up, as did western bluebirds and a tree-clinging red-breasted nuthatch that nimbly went up and down the trunk of the fir tree closest to my motor home. It was my favorite.

But today, the sun is out and my cough is gone. So if you’ll excuse me, after posting this blog from Ralph’s Cafe in Bayview that sits just outside the park, I’m going to go for a hike. The vulture of sickness has flown away.

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Travels With Maggie: Lake Walcott and Yellow Feathers

Posted in Birds, Nature, Travel, tagged , , , , , on May 31, 2010| Leave a Comment »

          “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!” — Jack Kerouac

Back on the Road

American goldfinch wearing yellow feathers to rival the sun ... Photo by Pat Bean

Lake Walcott State Park, adjacent to the Minidoka National Wildlife Refuge in southeast Idaho, is one of those nature treasures I’m always hoping to discover. While I lived a mere 150 miles away from it for over 20 years, I didn’t find it until I had started RV-ing and began scrutinizing maps.

Since it sat directly along my path on this journey, there was no way I would have passed it by without stopping – even if I hadn’t needed to do so to fill out some paperwork in anticipation of my returning to the park as a volunteer in August.

I arrived at the park in time for a hike with Maggie down to the lake, where I watched Canada geese shepherd half a dozen goslings. They trailed across the water with one parent in front leading the way and one parent in the rear making sure there were no laggards.

Across the way from the lake, where the Snake River ran free of the dam that backed up the water for the lake, white pelicans sat in a row on a line of island rocks.

Bullock’s orioles, meanwhile, clamored for my attention, their bright yellow-orange feathers

White pelican on a rock island in the middle of the Snake River ... Photo by Pat Bean

dancing among the green foliage like twinkling Christmas tree lights. But even their glory was dimmed by the American goldfinch that perched just outside my RV.

Yellow has always been one of my favorites colors, and these small birds wore such sunlight as dazzled the eyes.

Although I knew I would miss the friends I left behind in Ogden, my stop at Lake Walcott made being on the road again feel right.

Copyrighted by Pat Bean

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