Author Archives: Lynne

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About Lynne

Embarking on a year-long road trip with my little vintage trailer. Please come along as I find new places and people and re-visit a few. My Aunt Hilda was my grandmother's sister. When I was a child, I would sneak up by myself to her attic and spend solitary time discovering treasures. I plan to discover many different types of treasures on this solitary sojourn this year. Along the way I will camp, cook over a fire, explore, quilt, thrift, play poker, visit family and friends, and I am sure meet people who will further enrich my already full life. Thank you for joining me! Lynne

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Part 8

Michigan, Ohio, and Pennsylvania.  July and August, 2019.

Michigan. July 2019.

I was born in southern Michigan, and lived there until I was 15… a junior in high school.  I was fortunate to have both sets of grandparents and my grandmother’s brother and sister (my Aunt Hilda) live close enough to be engaged in our lives.  I really understand now how lucky I was.  Crossing the state line into Michigan gave a feeling of coming home, although I haven’t lived there for almost 60 years.

Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.  July 7 and 8, 2019.

Michigan’s Upper Peninsula (the “U.P.”) is incredible.  Three of the Great Lakes (Lake Superior, Lake Michigan, and Lake Huron) form its primary boundaries.  The road follows along the absolute shore, then dives into dense National Forests and out into fields of brilliant flowers. Rivers, woods, trails, wildlife refuges, lighthouses, roadside parks, restaurants, fishing, local food stands (I had to enjoy a meat pastie …. my grandmother used to make them by the 100s for church suppers when I was a kid), waterfront villages, and so much more. 

The U.P. is truly amazing.  I hadn’t been there for many years, and spent only one day driving through, but I drank in as much as I could.  I started the day where I had stopped the first night just past the Wisconsin border in the National Forest on the shores of Lake Superior, and spent the night in the shadow of the Mackinac Bridge at a beautiful roadside park on the shore of Lake Michigan. Nature at its best.

The Mackinac Bridge.  “Mighty Mac.”

When I was a kid, the way to cross the Straits between the Upper and Lower Peninsulas was via a large ferry transport.  It was fun, but quite slow, and we had to line up and wait for over an hour for our turn to cross.  In 1957, the Mackinac Bridge opened as the largest suspension bridge in the Western Hemisphere.  It still takes my breath away. 

Crossing it this time, I could see forever.  I spent a little time at the park on the lower side of the bridge.  The sleeping geese covered the shoreline.  Lots of opportunity to take pictures and get the feel of the majesty of the bridge.  But onward…. I must cover quite a bit of roadway today. 

Clio, Michigan.  Boondockers Welcome.  July 9, 2019.

One of the great resources I have found for an on-the-road-one-night-stay is the Boondockers Welcome group.  I have mentioned them before, but they are worthy of mentioning again.  Folks who travel themselves, but offer a spot on their property for RV travelers who need a quick stop … not a campout!   I didn’t have access to the Imlay City Fairgrounds Lavender Festival camping area until the 10th. I wanted to get close, so I did some research and found an awesome family in Clio, Michigan with plenty of room for my trailer.  Once I crossed the Mackinac Bridge, I headed 200 miles south to Clio, putting me within 50 miles of Imlay City.

Spent the late afternoon and night in Clio with my new Boondocker friends.  Down their long drive and a great parking spot out near the shop/garage. Cocktails and snacks on the back porch and many travel stories.  Turns out they were leaving the next day with their Le Sharo RV and headed to the area on Highway 2 in Montana I had just come through!  Many comparisons and discussions of what to see and where to stay.  Great fun. And yes, there is a significance to the picture of the rock. I just can’t remember what it is.

Imlay City, Michigan.  The Lavender Festival.  Sisters on the Fly.  July 10 to 14, 2019.

My very first SOTF event!

I met the Midwest contingent from the Sisters on the Fly at the Eastern Michigan Fairgrounds campground, about 60 miles north of Detroit.  They were so welcoming, and the 4-day camp-out event was amazing. Visits to acres of lavender fields, lavender ice cream, lavender plants, and other natural plants and food.  The Sisters circled their trailers (and tents) and were asked to invite discussion about the group with Festival attendees.  Discussion and enthusiasm come naturally in this group! 

It was hot and we put our feet in a kiddie pool. The wind blew down our leader’s tent while she was speaking. Challenges. But you can see in the pictures that the smiles and obvious laughter and camaraderie among these women was awesome, and there was no challenge that wasn’t overcome.  I continue to have contact with the group and some of their very special individual members. 

Belleville, Michigan.  July 14 to 19, 2019.

Karen Monte is a Sister I met at the Lavender Festival.  I mentioned to her that I planned to drive through the Detroit area to try to locate my grandparents’ old farm and my Aunt Hilda’s house from when I was a child.  She invited me to come park on her property so I could unhitch and not have to pull my trailer through the city.  I gratefully accepted, not knowing what a fantastic stay it would be!

Karen and her husband, Joe, have lived on the same acreage in the Belleville area, north of Detroit, for many years.  It is right across the road from the river and backs onto woods.  Fabulous.  And next door on one side is her cousin, and on the other side her brother.  Kids run between the properties.  It is a joyous place.

Joe and Karen built a large gazebo in the back yard.  Home to evening dinners and lots of gatherings.  They spend most of their waking time outside, either under the shade trees or working in the vegetable garden, on the yard, or some other fun project.  They are such great people, and draw from 50 years of marriage and large families to keep the entertaining stories coming.   I pulled my trailer through the field and into the yard, and set up my little homestead.

And her she-shed!  It was originally a 100 year old chicken coop.  Joe and a friend restored it, leaving the original frame.  It is a wonderful little retreat!  Every morning we had coffee under the trees in the yard.  Karen showed me around the area, and I was able to stay long enough to attend the “picnic.”  About 40 friends and their families, most of whom had attended school together all the way back to elementary, then high school graduation.  The type of memories and conversations that only come from long-time friendships.  I was honored to be there.

And other Sisters from the Lavender Festival stopped by when I was there, continuing the fun!

Grandma’s Farm.  Southfield, Michigan.  July 14, 2019.

On my way to Karen’s from Imlay City, I found myself driving through the Southfield area of Detroit, which is where my grandparents’ farm was in the 1950s and 60s.  Not really a working farm, but acreage with planted fields of trees and flowers they sold for extra income.  A paradise to visit in summers when I was little.  My cousins and I used to play in the shade of a huge willow tree at the head of the drive.  And sell great bunches of the most beautiful gladiolas to passers-by heading to the cemetery up the road on Sunday afternoons.

Much of the area is now developed, and we knew that when the property was sold, the new owners took down the little house and built a new one.  But I found it!  There was the “new” house, a 1960s brick rambler.  The original stone shed was still there behind the house, and the row of tiny pine trees my grandpa planted along the drive are now 40 feet tall with 10-inch pine cones.  The owners weren’t home, but I was able to sit in the long dirt driveway, take some pictures, and visualize “the way it was.”  Our brains and memories are miraculous.  It was like I was really there 60-some years ago.  Check it off the list.

Detroit and Highland Park, Michigan.  July 17, 2019.

While at Karen’s, I planned an excursion into the city to the Highland Park area of Detroit to see what condition my Aunt Hilda’s old house was in.  Joe spoke up and said he was born in a house in Detroit not too far from Highland Park, he would like to drive by it, and wondered if I would mind his company.  Perfect!  We set off the next morning.  He actually had in his hand a copy of his birth certificate with the address of the house where he was born.

Detroit is about a half hour from Joe and Karen’s Belleville property.  We drove through Joe’s  “birth” neighborhood.  His house and others on the street had been replaced by an industrial park, but the next street was intact, and he had many memories of people that lived there and the neighborhood church, which was the hub of life in that time.

On to Highland Park.  My aunt’s house was in decent condition, with a new coat of paint.  The houses on either side were also good, although there were some burned out homes further down the street.  The consequences of old places in this particular metro area.  I spent so many wonderful hours in that house (and in the original Aunt Hilda’s Attic) when I was a kid.  Took a picture on the front porch.  Fun to see.  Check off another.

Joe and I also tracked down The Noshpit, a vegetarian deli that had a food truck at the Lavender Festival.  The best, most amazing, beet Rueben sandwich!!  If you are ever in Detroit, treat yourself!  A small place with a monstrous single-plank table and bar.  Worth seeing!

Joe and I took a drive through downtown Detroit on our way back to Belleville.  It is good to see that the city itself is recovering and there is lots of activity.  Drove past Wayne State University and the entrance to the bridge that connects Detroit and Windsor, Ontario, Canada.  (Trivia fact:  Canada is south of the United States at this crossing.)

Monroe, Michigan.  July 19, 2019.

I left Karen’s early in the morning, headed south and then east. 

I was born in the Detroit area, but my family moved to Monroe in 1950.  I lived in the same house and went to school with the same kids until we moved to California when I was a junior in high school.  I still get notices for the Jefferson High School reunion committee in Monroe!  We lived near Lake Erie, where I learned to swim and fish.  And form lifelong friendships.   

I felt it necessary as I drove south to find the house where my brother and I grew up, and wander the neighborhood.  A small house, but comfortable.  The woman who lives there now gave me the tour, and was interested in knowing some of the house’s history.

The area is much the same, and most of the houses are still beach-type small houses.  I also found the building where both my brother and I started kindergarten.  Back then, we walked a mile to catch the school bus, and took the bus to a number of different school buildings scattered around the county that usually had two or three grades in it.  My brother actually attended second grade in a school room attached to the local fire station, so his schoolwork was interrupted every time the sirens announced a fire.  A little boy’s dream.

And I stopped for pizza at Detroit Beach Pizzeria, which is still open (third generation owners) and serving the world’s best pizza.  Amazing.  Keep moving south!!

Columbia Station, Ohio.  July 19, 2019.                                                                                         

Thanks once again to Boondockers Welcome, I pointed toward a place on private property not too far south of the Ohio border, near Cleveland.  My goal was to overnight there and get on the road to visit Cuyahoga Valley National Park the next morning.

The property is named Forsythia Forest.  On a pond, with trees and deer.  Wonderful stay.  The woman who owns this property is a retired NASA engineer, and was a delight to talk with. 

Cuyahoga Valley National Park. Ohio. July 20, 2019.

I am making an effort to visit as many National Parks (and National Forests, Beaches, and other National designated spots) as possible during this year.  I had not heard of this park, but it was on the list, so off I went.

This marvelous park is a refuge for native plants and wildlife, and provides many opportunities for hiking and observing waterfalls and the Cuyahoga River as it follows the historic route of what once was the Ohio and Erie Canal.  The park was actually created as the Erie Canal deteriorated and the land was cleaned up. I spent a few hours driving through and stopping to observe some of the beauty.  Every National Park offers a unique insight into the local area.

This is one of those times where I couldn’t take pictures and drive. So credit for the stolen pics from the web goes to the Travel Guide. Hmmmm.

There was also a group of restored “company houses” that are now used as the Park Headquarters. And a beautiful conference center that was once some wealthy entrepreneur’s home.

A Little More Ohio

I headed a little north and followed the shore of Lake Erie. Along the way I passed through some Amish country and delighted in seeing the laundry hanging on the lines and the buggy transportation.

There were also a number of houses and farms that I felt compelled to capture. And crops and another “road less travelled.” And of course I couldn’t pass up Lynne Street. Sidenote on Lynne Street: I drove down into the little park and discovered it was a dead end with no turnaround. I spent 45 minutes jockeying a few inches at a time to get going the right way, but eventually I made it. I needed the practice.

Pennsylvania.  July 20 to 30, 2019.

Allegheny National Forest

My sojourn into Pennsylvania only brought me to a small piece, but it was memorable. I managed to get to the Visitor Center in Warren, Pennsylvania that evening.  I don’t usually travel that far in a day, but for some reason I continued to follow the south shore of Lake Erie and kept pushing until dark.  Now I needed a place to stop.  So….. I parked behind the Visitor Center, which was closed for the day, and is also located on the same site as the Police Station.  Safe spot to sleep for the night and make coffee in the morning waiting for the Visitor Center to open.

I was able to get some maps and local info, and directions to the campground in the Allegheny National Forest.  Now….. this is my kind of camping!  Primitive campsites in the woods.  The only National Forest in Pennsylvania, established in 1923.  And still pretty much the same, I am sure.  Dirt roads, hills, and views of the water.  Dutch oven cooking over a campfire.  No cell service or internet, but I was told by a Ranger that if I drove down the road, turned left, and drove to the top of the hill, I would be at an overlook that had a great view of the river and the dam upstream, as well as a cell signal.  He was right!  So when I needed to make a call, that’s where I went.  Otherwise, I was blissfully disconnected from the world.

I loved this campground, and ended up staying for 9 days.  An enjoyable respite from travel and civilization.

Warren, Pennsylvania.

The town of Warren is about 15 miles from the National Forest.  It is an early- to mid-century town that has maintained its pride and character and kept most of its houses in great condition.   I make notes along my journey of places I might like to live.  And Warren, Pennsylvania is on the list.

Warren Library

Most towns have great libraries, and Warren is no exception.  Of the nine days I spent in the area, I spent three of those days at the library.  Pleasant area downtown in a wonderful old building surrounded by beautiful gardens.  I also spent time driving around the town, through the neighborhoods, and along the river.

And paying homage to my dad’s favorite meal, I followed a local’s advice and went to the Train Station Restaurant for “the best liver and onions”. And it was!

Tire and Glass Shops

I had a flat tire in Warren. Was able to inflate it enough to get to the tire shop, and was thinking I might need to buy a new tire….. or a set!  But Warren Tire (locally owned since the 1930s) was able to find a strange piece of metal, remove it, and repair the tire.  For less than $20.  Yeah!!

Then I decided to ask for a local recommendation of a glass shop that could put Hilda’s front window in.  The window still had the huge mystery hole that happened in South Dakota! The tape was still holding, but I had been carrying the replacement glass with me since I was in Minnesota, so thought I should get it installed before it broke!  And….. Warren Glass…. Another local shop with lots of that down-home character, was able to do the job.  Again, for less than $20.  Double yeah!!!

On to New York State.  July 30, 2019.

A Sister I met in Michigan at the Lavender Festival contacted me to say she would be in Watkins Glen, New York on July 31.  Was I interested in joining her?  Of course.

I hated to leave Pennsylvania, but I must move on.  So I made a reservation, hitched up Hilda, and headed down the road.

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Part 7

July 2019. Minnesota.

The first part of this section is sort of a ride down my personal memory lane.  I like to add photos in this blog, but almost all of my family and life history photos were destroyed a few years ago.  Very sad.  But at least that means I won’t be boring you with pictures of times past.  I have the photos in my head, and that is good for me.

I have a long story and heart-filled connection with Minnesota, past and present.  I first moved there in 1966 when my oldest child was only a few months old, which made me 20.  OMG!!!  My husband was just out of the Navy and we returned to his roots in Minnesota.  We rented the upstairs in an older house in a neighborhood near downtown St. Paul.  The downstairs tenants were a couple in their 30s.  I spent so much fun time with her, just talking and (me) learning to cook and do laundry.  Washer in the basement, and clothesline in the back yard.  Guess stairs were not a problem then.  And do it when the baby was asleep.  Sounds crazy, but I loved it.

About a year later, we bought a house on a piece of rural property northeast of the “Cities” (local name for the combined areas of Minneapolis and St. Paul).  Another chapter.  We dug fence posts and put in a rail fence.  Got a dog.  Planted a huge vegetable garden.  Got to know the neighbors.  Especially two families a little down the road, each of whom had five children.  My husband worked hard, and I also had a job and worked hard.  Somehow, about three years later we came to a fork in the road and went our separate ways.  I stayed in the house and became a single mom, and he moved on.  It was a good choice.

I lived in that area for another 6 years, and grew to become even more a part of the two families closest to me.  One of the moms was my son’s babysitter when I worked, and the older kids in both families took on extra hours babysitting when I worked late or had a project.  My job occasionally gave me access to tickets to touring shows.  When the Jackson 5 came to town, I acquired 6 front-row tickets and took 5 of the elder neighbor kids.  (Hmmm…. Seat belt laws??)  It was fun to lead them single file all the way down the main aisle at the venue to watch young Michael Jackson and his family perform.  A cool memory.

I bought a horse, built stalls in the little barn on the property, joined a local horse club, and rode for hours both summer and winter in the woods behind us.  I bought my son a pony for his fourth birthday that would just as soon come home without him as with him.  He eventually learned to stick to the saddle, and progressed to a better-trained pony.

I learned to pluck chickens, raised some sheep, and shared in ownership of a calf and three pigs.  Felt like quite the farm girl!  I bought an old-fashioned “cutter” sleigh and harness and trained my horse to pull it through the snow.  Very Norman Rockwell!  Then in the summer I took the rigging from the cutter and built a cart from an old boat seat and some bicycle wheels.  I hitched up the horse, we climbed on, and rode off.  But only for about 20 feet before the wheels collapsed.  My wonderful, good-natured horse simply stopped and looked around at us with a “Really???” look in his eyes.  I never asked him to do such a dumb thing again.

Early 1976 found me with a new husband and a new Chicago address.  Then toward Fall, his company transferred him to their headquarters near Minneapolis.  And there I was, once more in the beautiful land of 14,000 lakes.  Our next two children were born in Minnesota, and see themselves as Minnesotans. We lived in Chanhassen, south of the Cities, near the property where Prince built his complex.  It actually was just a house, then.  The Complex (with a capital “C”) came later.  I played lots of bridge and made many new friendships.

In 1986, we moved to Southern California.  My older son stayed in Minnesota, but the two younger ones grew up and became immersed in the So Cal life.  And I guess I did, too!

Life stuff happened, and by the late 1990s, my job as a technical editor for an engineering company had taken me to live in the Las Vegas area.  My older son and his three young children had moved to Nevada and now were living near me.  His daughter in Minnesota made a connection with him on Facebook in about 2009, so this wonderful granddaughter dimension was added. 

And now it is 2019 and I am on a physical journey around the country exploring new territory, and, as it turns out, delving back into old areas.  Minnesota was, and is, a big part of me.

Minnesota and Wisconsin. June 21 to July 7, 2019.

As you can see, Minnesota and I have a long-standing relationship.  Friends and family from years ago and now.  Tugs at my memories and heartstrings.

South of The Cities.  June 21 to July 2.

My granddaughter, Amber, and her husband, Nick, recently acquired their “forever home,” a country property in Cannon Falls, about 30 miles south of Minneapolis/St. Paul (“The Cities” in local parlance).  I rolled into the “Farm” on June 21.  Set up my little camper about 50 yards from their house in the shade of a crabapple tree.  Every morning, my two little great-grandsons, ages 2 and 4, came running out as soon as my camper door opened, usually between 6:30 and 7:00.  They played with everything they could find, colored, built magnetic block towers, stomped through (or slid in) mud puddles in the driveway, ate breakfast with me, and included me in their daily mornings.  Their mom goes to work in the afternoon, and they go off to daycare, so I also had plenty of time to explore their fun little rural town on my own.

When the family was home, the boys spent time on small 4-wheel electric ATVs, or on the Mom and Dad full-size ones.  We spent time in the pool, watched for thunderstorms, chased chickens, and generally hung out. We shared lots of family time and meals.  And I was part of their first real movie adventure (Toy Story 2).  I think I liked the movie more than the little ones. 

Another adult grandson (yes, Jordan is now 21!!)  lives about 20 miles away, so he came out a few times and I also got to spend much appreciated time with him.  The men did a number of projects for me (carpentry, electrical, glass replacement, and oil change), which was great.  Nick has a full shop onsite, so I took advantage of the help while I could.  Nice to play the grandma card once in a while!

June 28 and 29, 2019.  North of The Cities.

While my trailer was at Amber’s, I unhitched and snuck away to spend a few days with a long-time friend, Mary, who lives in the general area where I lived on my “hobby farm” in the late 60s/early 70s.  She was the eldest child in the family up the road, and we spent a lot of time back then horseback riding and showing horses.  Her dad was a truck driver, so I took her with me on “take your child to work” day.  She put in an application at Univac a year later, and she still blames me for her 35-year career there!

We have each had full lives, and I have only seen her a few times over the years, but of course it is one of those friendships that seems like we saw each other yesterday.  She has a great house on a pond, and we woke up to coffee watching wildlife and went to bed after much wine and tons of conversation.  A huge bonus was seeing her mother, who just celebrated her 85th birthday and was my son’s babysitter when I worked all those years ago.  She came over to be “dogsitter” for Mary’s two adorable dogs while Mary and I went exploring for the day.  What a treat to see both of them!

July 3 to 7, 2019.  Chanhassen, Minnesota.

Main stay number three was with another long-time friend, Carol.  We were bridge partners in the early 80s, when our daughters were little and we lived in Chanhassen.  Other than me living there, Chanhassen’s big claim to fame is that it is where Prince lived and had his music studio.  Now it is a huge tourist attraction.  My husband and I moved to California in 1986.  In 2014, my daughter had one of those “wonder what ever happened to?” moments and looked for her long-ago playmate (Carol’s daughter) on Facebook.  Of course, the two girls connected, which means the moms connected, and Carol and I have spent at least a week together each year since, usually in Las Vegas playing Omaha poker.  We do have fun. 

I spent a few days with her and her husband, with Hilda parked in their driveway.  Another fabulous time running around, exploring Minneapolis (including a favorite bakery that has been there for years), and more conversation and reliving good times.

On July 6, I got a phone call from a Michigan Sister on the Fly.  Could I make it to the Eastern Michigan Fairgrounds in Imlay City, Michigan by July 10 to take part in a camp-in exhibit at the Michigan Lavender Festival?  Not much time based on my normal slow pace, but of course I said, “YES,” and made plans to leave the next morning.  Off to the next adventure.

July 7, 2019.  Wisconsin.

When I looked at the map, I decided to drive north and cut through Wisconsin to try to connect with other hobby-farm-days neighbors who had moved to northern Wisconsin over 30 years ago.  Left a message, headed that direction, and through the miracle of voicemail connected with them and arranged a stop.

My friends the Blomquists have a fantastic 40-acre property just south of Lake Superior.  It has its own small lake, fed by five underground springs.   Fishing, a huge vegetable garden, shade trees to sit under, a large shop, and trails throughout the property.  Artesian water is captured at a flowing pipe near their house.  And Monarch butterfly nesting areas with fields of St. Johns Wart planted to attract them.  We had a great meal and tons of conversation (seems to be a theme, here).  I would have loved to spend more time, and hope to go back. 

But I was on a mission, and left their house with the intent of crossing the state line into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan by nightfall.  Which I did.  Barely.  So I was in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Michigan on July 7.  Not bad for this meandering traveler.

Headed to meet some SOTF Sisters at the Michigan Lavender Festival!

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Happy New Year 2020

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels.  It’s a New Year! December 30, 2019.

Good morning, everyone in earshot of my blog.  And Happy New Year!

With this new year comes a renewed promise (especially to myself) to get my fingers moving and get back on the blogging horse.  Giddy-up, giddy-up.  Many of you have encouraged me by leaving such nice comments on my blog site.  And I have been spurred unmercifully by others to get back at it.  So…. Here I am!

This morning I sit in the North Ft. Myers Regional Library in Ft. Myers, Florida.  Hopefully, library time will be productive.  I hope to put this New Year’s ramble up on the web today. I have two other posts from July and August that I have written but not published, yet.  They are old, but fit chronologically with my previous posts. They will appear after the New Year holiday when I find another open library.

Where I have been …. And what I owe you!

Since I left Minnesota in July, I have been in amazing places and met amazing people!  The Sisters on the Fly component of my trip has presented a dimension I did not expect when I left California last spring.  I spoke of three Sisters in previous blogs.  Mindi Crabb was the first Sister I met.  I stayed at her place in Pinedale, Wyoming, on my way to Grand Teton National Park.  And Robin Bartel hosted me in Cody, WY as Ieft Yellowstone.  Then came the serendipitous meetup with Bernice Ende, the woman I met in Havre, MT, as she continued her tour discussing her experience as a long rider (horseback alone over 1,000 miles).  Watch for a PBS documentary about her this spring!

Then you read (or will read) about my camping gathering with 20 other Sisters in Michigan at the Lavender Festival.  That is when the ball really took on momentum!  Since that event, I have maintained online friendships with many of those women, and gathered about 100 more Sister connections.  Some have been generous with offering a spot to stay for a night or two as I traveled.  Some I met as those “Curb” Sisters gathered a group for lunch, dinner, or a Flea Market.  Some I met just by happenstance conversation at a campground.  “Have you heard of Sisters on the Fly”?  “Oh, yes.  I am a Sister!”  And the conversation and connection ensued.  And on, and on, and on.  Such generous, knowledgeable women.  It has been a growth experience I didn’t expect, and have more than thoroughly enjoyed!

But of course the SOTF component is not my entire journey.  I have jealously guarded alone time, as well. In the woods, on the water, or along a lonesome road.   I head into a National Forest wooded area, where I can find a stream or a meadow and spend a few days by myself.  Usually with no cell phone or internet service.  I do love my alone time.

My Path So Far

Just a list of locations and minor points ……. For my own gratification, each one will need to be discussed, and printed out for my permanent record.  But I would like you to be able to track this fantastic journey with me as I continue to circle the country.  I might miss something, but oh, well.

June – July 2019.  Minnesota – Family and friend time

July 2019.  Wisconsin – More family and friend time

July 2019.  Michigan – Boondocking, touring, camping, SOTF Lavender Festival event, visit childhood spots (Grandma’s farm, Aunt Hilda’s house, Grandma’s house, childhood home and school, etc.)

July 2019. Ohio – Boondocking, Cuyahoga National Park

July – August 2019.  Pennsylvania – Warren PA, Allegheny National Forest (10 days)

August 2019.  New York – Watkins Glen State Park (Camping with Lucy Logan, Sister I met in Michigan), Finger Lakes area (Curbing with Barbara Kocen, another Sister), Oswego, NY (Accidentally crossed paths with a friend’s 1960s sorority sister), Queensbury, NY (Audrey Kiernan .. yep… another SOTF curb.  And a pre-dawn visit to Saratoga Race Track).

August – October 2019.  Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine – The three states I had never visited.  I spent almost two months in various areas of New England, watching nature turn the area from green to gold.  The Northeast SOTF group and so many individual members embraced me and continue to be part of my life every day.  And I  made a lifelong connection with North Conway and the Saco River, New Hampshire.

October 2019.  Massachusetts – Curb with Angel Smith. Learned so much about Massachusetts history.

October 2019.  New York Catskills – On my way escaping toward the south, I stopped to curb at SisternEllen Adam’s magical spot.  Met Ellen while camping in Vermont.

October 2019.  Pennsylvania – Boondocking in Reading.

October – November 2019.  Maryland and Virginia – Assateague Island National Seashore.  10 days camping with the wild horse herds.  On the way out, drove across the mega bridge and curbed with Stacey Bittner in Virginia Beach.  Met 4 other Sisters.

November 2019.  North and South Carolina – Fantastic camping near the barrier islands and in Myrtle Beach.  Met long-lost friends in Myrtle Beach.

November 2019.  Georgia and Oregon – Toured Savannah. Left Hilda with family in Statesboro for a little over a week and flew to Portland, OR for Thanksgiving.

December 2019.  Florida – Many Florida stops with family, friends, Sisters (some I met in the Midwest or the Northeast), county parks, beaches, boondocking, and Harvest Host sites.  I am seeing parts of Florida that I hadn’t expected to be so beautiful.  More than the two coastal areas.  Much more to see. 

Where I am headed.

I am about 8 months and 14,000 miles in.

Tomorrow I venture close to the Everglades National Park, and will spend New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day out of touch with the world in a small campground in the Big Cypress Swamp/National Preserve.  I expect to come out alive on the other end of the next couple days, and then I will continue through the Everglades and head toward Biscayne National Park.

Key West and Dry Tortuga National Park are the next dots on my “want to go” list.  It is a long drive, but I am really looking forward to it. National Parks are especially worth the effort.

Once I leave the Keys, I have a couple more stops to make in Florida, and then I camp for four days along the beaches on the south shore of the Panhandle area. 

My next major destination is Colorado City, Texas.  I need to arrive there the morning of January 25 for a gathering of 30 sewing and crafting Sisters.  (Remember…. I do have my sewing machine and fabric and tons of other craft items with me. Lol.) I spend 9 days creating …. not sure what, yet!

After Texas, I go to New Mexico to meet up with Bernice Ende (Lady Long Rider) again.  Looking forward to spending some quiet time with her.

Then it is meandering through Arizona and on to Southern California.  Two gatherings with my Lemon Drop Diva camping group near Anza Borrego for the spring desert flowers, and then finally home on March 29, 2020, one year after my departure.

It will be bittersweet.  I am looking forward to being home.  But I will leave much of my heart out here on the road.

Thank you for journeying with me….. I will post more from my ongoing travel, and will try to catch up and patch in the missing pieces as I go.

Yesterday I went to church with SOTF Sister Vicki O’Nan and was fortunate to hear a Sunday sermon delivered by an entertaining and insightful minister in Englewood, Florida.  His message was pretty much that Fred Rogers had it right when he said we were all neighbors.  And I am certainly finding that to be true.   I have met a thousand new neighbors along the way, and look forward to being able to let my guard down and meet many more. Won’t you be my neighbor?

Wish me luck!  And all the best to you and yours in this coming year, 2020. 

Lynne

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Part 6

Thursday, June 13 to Thursday, June 20.  Havre, Montana toward Minnesota.

My next “destination” is Minnesota. I lived there for a number of years from about 1970 to 1985, and I have family, friends, and memories to visit.

But wait!!  There is territory to cover between here and there.  And I am sure common places that will generate uncommon memories!

Thursday, June 13, 2019.  On the road… almost.

I gassed up as I left Havre (still happy about the relatively low gas prices) and continued east on U.S. Highway 2, ready for a full day’s travel.  In 27 miles and 45 minutes, I reached Chinook, Montana, a wide spot in the road.  Uh-oh.  My “battery” light is on, and not charging.  My guess is alternator problems.  My friend, Isobel, and I were stuck on the 15 Freeway once between Orange County and Las Vegas with alternator problems.  It is a much longer adventure than I need to relate here, but suffice to say that this time I did not make the mistake of continuing on down the road and ignoring the light.

Really??  I just left Havre, which is a real town with (I would expect) good mechanics.  But here I am, just past Chinook, looking at open land.  Luckily, with my booster I do have some weak cell service, so I look for a “mechanic near me.”  Up pops American Garage, two-tenths of a mile from me.  OK… I look over my shoulder behind me and I see the sign.  And I take it as a good sign.

The folks at American Garage were great …. Worth the Yelp review I gave them, for sure.  They identified the alternator as the problem, and checked all the rest of the stuff under the hood.  And fixed a trailer light that was intermittent!  I was out of there and on the road again in a couple hours, without breaking the bank.  Mechanical issues are just part of the game, and could happen at home as easily as on the road, but I was grateful not to have to put on my big girl panties and argue over unnecessary suggested repairs.  Yeah, American Garage!

Now… back to Highway 2.  I spent almost a week in Havre, and I am in a rubber-to-the-road mode.  67 miles to Malta, Montana.  I can do that.  Hello, Malta.  Now, Glasgow, Montana is only another 70 miles.  No problem.  I have no cell service.  I have some “online” business to take care of in the next few days, so I look on the map for a large print town.  Miles City, Montana beckons.  Turn south on Highway 24 at Glasgow heading for an identified roadside park at the junction of Highways 24 and 200.  Another 88 miles.  It stays light quite late here in the north and I will be on paved roads, so I am sure I can get there before dark.  Success!  I arrived at 9:30 and found a great spot to stay for the night.  I went to sleep and decided to deal with my next problem in the morning. 

Friday, June 14, 2019.  Fumes in the gas tank.

And here was the problem….you math gurus may have been adding up the miles:  Havre to Chinook, 27 miles; Chinook to Malta, 67 miles;  Malta to Glasgow, 70 miles;  Glasgow to my current location, 88 miles.  Total 252 miles.  And do you see any stops for gas in there?  And my average range with the truck pulling the trailer is about 270 miles.  Therein lies the problem.  I am not out of gas, but I may be on fumes.  I convinced myself that there would be a gas station at the junction.  Not. Nope. Wrong.  Closest gas station is in Circle, MT, 35 miles away.  Risk it?  Narrow country road with some pretty good hills.  Not.  Nope.  Wrong.  I am pretty nervous about being stuck in no-man’s land with no shoulder to pull off on.  At least I am comfortable where I am.  Not that I want to stay forever.

Friday, June 14, 2019.  Good Samaritan.

Once again, fate (Fate) is on my side.  In the morning, along come two women who work the “boat inspection” station at my roadside park.  All boats going into the nearby recreation area reservoir must stop and be inspected for some type of plant life that can clog the waterways.  They are locals and very knowledgeable about the roads, etc.  They agree I might not want to be stranded between where I am and the next town.  Solution:  a brother will bring me some gas when he comes to bring lunch to one of the women.  So, I make breakfast and sit and drink coffee with two nice ladies while I wait for my Good Samaritan.  It is a beautiful day, and it is the perfect solution.

Like any “almost” big problem, this turned out fine.  Big brother showed up with a 5-gallon gas can at the going rate (grateful me tipped him an extra $20).  I am normally anal about stopping for gas, but this time I stupidly talked myself into what could have been quite an inconvenience.  Remember the “inner self” from Glacier?  I should have listened better.  But at least I listened and didn’t try to “make it.”  Off to get gas in Circle, MT.  I put 21.7 gallons in my 26 gallon tank.  And remember, I had added 5 gallons from the Good Samaritan.  Close.  Lesson learned.

Friday, June 14, 2019. Not Miles City, Montana.

Now to continue east.  If you have a map, you know I missed Miles City by much more than a mile.  Keep on keeping on, headed always east.  The lucky wrong turn brought me to the small town of Wibaux, Montana.  The Tastee Hut called, and I stopped for a bite and a cone.  Jenny, the owner, came out and asked about my “little yellow trailer,” then proceeded to sit at a booth with me to go over maps and local and on-my-route places she felt were worth visiting. She was delightful! Oh… and along came two people on horseback to get ice cream…. the deputy sheriff, Bill, and his teenage daughter. Talked with them a bit, also, and waved goodbye as I left.  I love the West.  Wibaux offers a nice city park for travelers, and I stayed the night.

Saturday, June 15, 2019.  Devil’s Tower National Monument and Black Hills National Forest.

Saturday, June 15, 2019. The road to Devil’s Tower.

In the morning, at Jenny’s suggestion, I headed south and a little west back into Wyoming to visit Devil’s Tower National Monument.  She pointed me to a minor road that went through beautiful farmland. I came across large and small farmsteads, driveways that invited visitors down a long stretch to homes, a large group of bee-hive boxes, an unusual area of erupting rocks, and a huge pile of lumber at the Devil’s Tower Forest Products mill in the tiny town of Hulett, Wyoming. Go figure. And so much more….a great local Quilt Shop, in-town sheep, a pronghorn antelope , an abandoned property that was a family home probably 50 years ago, cows lining up at the drinking fountain, and definitely yet another road less traveled. Being able to see all of these “small” things is truly enriching my life.

Saturday, June 15, 2019. Devil’s Tower National Monument.

Devil’s Tower is another of nature’s astounding formations.  It rises in the middle of open land, and makes one wonder, “Why?”  Whatever the reason, it was certainly a worthwhile stop. There was a line at the entrance, so apparently others had also heard of this natural wonder!  

The access road can only be traveled by vehicles under 21 feet, and no trailers. There is a parking area provided about a quarter mile inside the entrance to drop trailers and pick them up again on the way out. So little Hilda got to stay and play with a couple big guys while I went to explore.

There were some nice photo ops. And I actually used my new telephoto lens for a couple shots!

Prairie Dogs.

Just inside the entrance to Devil’s Tower is a large field populated with a great number of prairie dogs. Tried to take pictures, but they were pretty quick to disappear. It was just like a Disney show!  Being easily entertained, I stopped for a half hour on my way in, and an hour on my way out, just watching.  A lack of schedule is my friend.

Saturday, June 15, 2019.  Black Hills National Forest near Lead, South Dakota.

The dot on the map marked “Deadwood, South Dakota” was too much to resist.  My daughter and her husband used Deadwood as their wedding theme, and I couldn’t help trying to take my picture in Deadwood.  Of course, I loved the whole experience.

I left Devil’s Tower in the afternoon hoping to find a campsite in the Black Hills National Forest for the night.  I reached Spearfish, South Dakota about 4:00.  The map showed an “Alt 14” road that appeared to be a shortcut to the forest area south of Lead, South Dakota (pronounced Leed), which in turn is south of Deadwood.  If I stayed there that night, I would be in position to hit Deadwood the next morning.  A good plan.  And the Hanna Campground on the map seemed to be just the thing.

Spearfish Canyon Scenic Byway

So I asked a local Spearfish policeman which way to go.  He said it was hard to explain, said, “follow me,” and headed down the road.  20 minutes later he waved goodbye.  I was glad he was the tour guide.  The road called Alt 14 turned out to be the Spearfish Canyon Scenic Byway, one of the most beautiful drives I have had the privilege to make.  Unfortunately, there were few opportunities to pull over for pictures, so you will have to Google it (please do) to see its beauty.  I have cheated here and put in a couple pictures from the website. They don’t do the experience justice. I had been driving since early morning, and by the time I drove the 20 miles of winding road through the Canyon, I was ready to stop for the night. Except the campground seemed to have moved away from the spot on the small map I had, and of course I had no service.

I headed up the road, ending up going through Lead and into Deadwood.  OK.  Saturday night in Deadwood is a pretty happening time, with no extra parking for a weary truck and trailer.  It was fun to see the revelers wandering all through the historic town with its Western bar on every corner.  I found a large parking area that seemed to allow unhitching, so kept it in mind for the next day.

Back up the road out of Deadwood, through Lead, and toward the National Forest.  I make one more attempt to find the campground, driving 10 miles up and back a rutted dirt road with no luck.  It was going to be dark soon.  I never did find the campground, but I found a nice level area in the open forest, and that was it for the night. 

Sunday, June 16, 2019.  Lead, Deadwood, and Sturgis, South Dakota.

Lead.

Sunday morning found me once more on the road through Lead on the way to Deadwood.  Lead is built on the precipice of ore-rich cliffs.  In its day, it was a major gold mining area, with mostly open pit gold.  And it still looks like there should be gold coming out of those hills.  Most old buildings are still in use for businesses or residences. And a great gold mining museum demonstrates how things used to be, and offers an opportunity to pan for gold. Today, most visitors come for hiking, biking, and skiing.

Deadwood.

I made the right call hitting Deadwood on Sunday morning. Sooooo quiet! I drove up and down the streets enjoying the town and getting my bearings.  I did find the “unhitch” lot, and left Hilda to play with others.  The truck and I went in search of a good breakfast.

The Lee Street Station Cafe offers a great menu and outdoor seating. It was relatively busy, and I asked two women if I could join their table.  Yes, until their friends arrived.  But maybe they were sleeping in. lol.  Like many visitors to Deadwood, the women were part of a group traveling on motorcycles. Our conversation was about motorcycles and trips and home locations.  One lady was a teacher, and the other was the Postmistress in a small town in Nebraska. We quickly became great buddies, and they invited me to stop by if I went their way.

My first motorcycle was in 1980 in Minnesota. And I maintained a motorcycle endorsement on my drivers license until I moved to Nevada and the DMV wanted me to take a riding test. Didn’t have a motorcycle anymore, so no more endorsement. I do appreciate the motorcycle set (of course, my daughter and her husband are major riders). When we left the café, my new friends invited me to look at (and sit on) one of the bikes.  They each ride a BRP Can-Am Spyder, an impressive three-wheel bike made in Canada. Quite the machine. Most of the group they ride with also own this type of bike. Could this be in my future???? They and their group readied themselves for the the day ride back to Nebraska, and I watched them ride away. I loved their spirit.

The streets of Deadwood.

I found Deadwood fascinating. So much Wild West history. The elementary school still operates, as do many businesses. And the large homes of the “players” of the day are still being used. Hotels, shops, a new winery. Walking along these streets is liking stepping back in time. I could almost expect a gunfight in the streets!

Mount Moriah Cemetery

A must-see area of Deadwood is the cemetery. At one time, there were two cemeteries. The one closest to town filled up quickly, and the one up on the mountain is the one now in existence. At some point, the town fathers decided to build on the first one, so many of the “residents” were moved up the hill. Because so many graves were unmarked, there were quite a few left behind, and current residents are still finding skeletons in their gardens.

The Mount Moriah Cemetery holds more than 3,000 graves. Over 80% of these are marked, and provide an interesting history of the area. The ones most people look for are Wild Bill Hickok, Calamity Jane, Seth Bullock, Potato Creek Johnny, and other infamous historical figures. What a site.

Sunday, June 16.  Boulder Canyon (Sturgis, South Dakota)

A resource I found available to folks traveling in unknown territory is an organization called “Boondockers Welcome.”  Travelers can join the system for a small annual fee, and RV owners who have space at their home locations make themselves available through a well-run reservation system online.  The idea is that a boondocker (a traveler with an RV or trailer that needs no “hookups”) can plan to spend one or two nights at a friendly location.  Not a campsite, but certainly a welcome place to stop.  I hadn’t found my “schedule” would accommodate using this service, but this time I could.  I made arrangements for the night of June 16 near Sturgis. 

When I arrived early Sunday afternoon, I was thrilled to find my host’s property just outside Sturgis at the beginning of the surrounding hills.  My spot was a long driveway with easy parking.  Their house is tucked into the edge of the Black Hills National Forest. The very welcoming couple offered electricity if I needed it, and a wealth of local information and conversation.  I had plenty of time to relax and get re-situated.  Sturgis, of course, is home to the world’s largest motorcycle rally in August, and a year-round motorcycle ride destination.  While they don’t own motorcycles, my hosts admitted they sometimes put their lawn chairs at the end of their driveway and watch the parade go by!  Sturgis is yet another interesting stop in the Black Hills.

Monday, June 17, 2019.  More Black Hills wandering.

Wind Cave National Park was in range of my location, so I wandered south into more of the Black Hills National Forest.  Along the way Hot Springs offers bubbling cauldrons, and there is a large herd of wild horses to be seen at the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary.  I saw only a few, but I know they are there!!

Wind Cave National Park

Wind Cave is another absolutely unique National Park.  Thousands of acres of grassland and hills, with lots of buffalo.  I was told elk, but I didn’t see any.  Below the grasslands lies one of the world’s largest caves.  The website shows the formations created by the wind that is able to enter through various access ways.  The only way to view the cave is on a guided tour down in an elevator.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do the tour.  I need to come back and do a month in the Black Hills!!

I used most of the day wandering, and finally headed east toward Badlands National Park. Stopped for the night at a great area just inside the park boundary suggested by one of my Facebook groups, intending an early start to see the Badlands in morning light.  

Tuesday, June 18, 2019.  Badlands National Park.

Hmm… can you say foggy?  And so foggy that I could barely see the road, let alone the scenery.  Managed the entire loop, and even with the fog, the Badlands offered some beautiful glimpses.  I stamped my National Parks Passport at the Visitors Center, and spent time chatting with a number of European tourists.  Check off another fantastic National Park.  

Perhaps an eye-check is in order, as well.  On the approach to the Badlands entrance, I went through a National Grasslands.  Just before the Park entrance, I spotted a small herd of cattle.  Uh… look again.  At closer look, the cattle turned out to be buffalo….. and I almost missed them!

Tuesday, June 18, 2019.  Wall Drug. Wall, South Dakota.

If you have ever driven through South Dakota, you recognize the Wall Drug advertisements that appear everywhere within 100 miles of Wall, South Dakota. It has been a must-stop for travelers for almost 90 years. 5-cent coffee, ice cream, and cold ice water. I was there with my parents about 60 years ago, and thought I should stop. I was shocked to see that there is now an entire themed town. I took pictures, but I didn’t stop. Too overwhelming!

South Dakota countryside.

I was hoping to get to a large enough town to find some service and a laundromat (seems to be a continuous quest), so headed toward Pierre.  Along the roads of South Dakota, I found beautiful farms, different varieties of cattle, and flat land with crops promising to feed us all.  I love the desert, the mountains, and the water.  And I find that every road through every type of countryside has its own beauty.  Stop to smell the roses.  Or the daisies.  Or the sweet hay.

Tuesday, June 18, 2019. Pierre, South Dakota.

At the end of a long travel day, Pierre rose to greet me.  A very pretty city along the wide Missouri River.  A city park almost in the shadow of the Capital Building offers camping sites with optional electricity.  Grass and a beach, and a fantastic area.  I stumbled onto this site by accident (of course) when I was driving around taking a look at the riverfront.  I pulled in, and was sitting in my chair taking a break before I set up for the night. 

A couple came along and said they had noticed my trailer and really liked it.  “Thank you,” I said.  They told me that if I moved over a little bit, out of the electric hookup area, camping was free.  “Thank you,” I most gratefully said again.  The man introduced himself as Randy Fox, known on You Tube as The Mobile Traveler.  He said he would like to interview me for his You Tube channel   I thanked them once more, but said we would have to talk tomorrow….. too tired tonight!!

I spent two delightful days camping near Randy and Kirsten, and learned so much from them!  Randy is actually from Pierre, and returns for a couple weeks each year to visit and take care of medical and business stuff.  And our trailers crossed paths at just that point in time. Yet another happy happenstance.  Randy and Kirsten travel all over the country in a 14-foot vintage trailer, interviewing similar travelers and offering help and advice to so many.  We talked about solar power, propane, awnings, water, and many other things that have been elevated in importance on my journey.  On Day 2, he did an interview that is posted on The Mobile Traveler as an episode titled, Woman Travels in a Vintage Camper.  Take a look when you are ready for some amusement.  I had actually seen his channel and followed it for some time.  Randy is definitely interesting.  He was on his way to Colorado to the “Travelers Campfest,” a gathering of a big bunch of folks getting together to help each other.  I am sure we will meet again sometime along some road. (The picture of his trailer is from his You Tube channel, The Mobile Traveler.)

We had some beautiful weather and some major thunderstorms.  Overall, I mark Pierre as an absolute go-to stop on the road.  I wish I had had more time to check out their area.

June 20, 2019.  Watson, MN.

My plan was to be in Minnesota on June 26, but a conversation with my granddaughter bumped that up to June 21, so I put the truck in hustle mode and headed for their new home in the country south of Minneapolis. When I crossed the state line on June 20, I stayed with a Boondockers Welcome host in Watson, MN.  Her site name is Casa del Goose.  A great overnight stay in the land of Canadian Geese!

June 21, 2019.  Homing in on a Minnesota family visit.

Early morning found me meandering down country roads. Actually early enough to watch the sun rise over the farmland. I drove past more of every kind of water imaginable.  Ponds, creeks, lakes, rivers (large and small), reservoirs, puddles, etc., etc.  Farmland and trees.  Perfect rows of corn. Huge round bales of hay. Ancient tribal lands and new architecture.  Some very tiny communities.

I did have one surprise. That new window I had installed in Grand Junction somehow had a baseball-size hole in it. Not sure what caused it …??? No projectiles inside the trailer. I taped it up with Flex Tape (it does work just like the TV ads claim!) and drove on.

About 1:00 the afternoon of June 21 I pulled into Cannon Falls, Minnesota to shouts from my two little great grandsons.  Parked in a park-like setting under a crabapple tree.  It is going to be a great visit!

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Part 5

Montana: U.S. Highway 2

A basic ride, with lots of interesting stuff along the way. That is definitely the way my life is going. It’s perfect!!

Friday, June 7, 2019.  Leaving Glacier National Park, Montana.

I regretfully left beautiful Glacier National Park early in the morning, in a pouring rain.  I was glad my inner self told me to pack up and connect the trailer the night before, so I could pretty much jump in the truck and go in the morning.  Wise person sometimes, that inner self.

The rain was working on the snow remaining on the ground and up on the cliffs.  Waterfalls up the cliffs, and gullies on the ground.  The snow will give way here very soon, and the July tourists will see a different Glacier than I did.  Whatever the season, Glacier is worth the trip to come see.  I will be back.

Moving east on two-lane country U.S. Highway 2 along the northern edge of Montana.  The map says I can stay on that road all the way to Minnesota, which is my next “destination.”   Following the morning sun.  Or rain.

A few hours east of Glacier, I stopped at the Visitor Center in the small town of Shelby, Montana.  Jennifer, the host, gave me some very helpful and interesting historical stories, maps, brochures, and general information about north central Montana, where I was headed.  I asked about places to camp, and she told me that her family liked to go to Beaver Creek Park in Havre, about 60 miles east.  I continue to find first-hand advice is good advice, so off I went.

Friday, June 7 to Monday, June 10, Beaver Creek Park, south of Havre, Montana.            

Beaver Creek Park is the largest county park in the U.S.  I believe about 10,000 acres.  It is about 10 miles south of Havre and runs 17 miles along a flowing creek below some bluffs. It also includes 2 large reservoirs (stocked for fishing).  It is open camping, with fire pits all along the way.  Beautiful.

The first night I set up camp in a grassy area on the marshy edge of one of the reservoirs.  I was delighted to watch two families of Canadian geese, one with 7 young and the other with 9.  When they swam in the water, the larger of the adults would lead, and the rest of the family would fall in behind in some order they seemed to understand.

They came up on land near my trailer a few times, with the young ones (more like teenagers than babies) pecking at the grass and gobbling everything in sight, and the adults standing on guard with necks stretched tall.  A reason for concern would send them off into the reeds and to safety, with Mom urging them on. They moved so fast it was as if they just evaporated.  So fun to watch. 

Another reservoir resident was a large white pelican.  I have seen many gray ones in California waters, but I don’t recall white.  From a distance, I thought he was a swan.  He would stand in shallow water or swim across, occasionally dipping his whole head and neck into the water and coming up with fish in his beak.  Again, interesting to watch.  And ducks flying overhead.  Who needs TV?

Other nights were spent at different areas along the creek, enjoying the variety of the bluffs and the speed of the water.  I didn’t have a Montana license, so didn’t do any fishing, but the local fisherman seemed to do well.  Maybe next time. 

If you drive the entire 17 miles and continue along the road, you pass into Chippewa Tribal lands.  About a mile in, there is a painting of a buffalo low on a bluff.  The local park ranger told me how to find it, and that it is a great photo op.  And it was.

Havre, Montana.

While I was camped at Beaver Creek, I drove into town every day to look around.  Investigating Havre was a lot of fun.  It is a small town (a little under 10,000 population) near the Canadian border and is very friendly to its Canadian neighbors and meandering travelers.  Many people cross each day for work or shopping. 

I loved the town of Havre.  Small town, with lots of pride.  There was a real sense of community.  I visited the local quilt shop, and found that a member of my California quilt guild grew up in Havre.  Small world, chapter 42. The library was another gem.  Wi-fi and space to spread out my maps and info is always welcome.  And library staff is always so helpful! Community spirit showed in signs at the local high school ball field.

Beginning in the 1800s, Havre was a prosperous railroad town.  In 1904, most of the buildings on the main street were leveled in a fire.  Instead of giving up, the business owners opened in their basements, creating a tunnel system underground for access.  The tunnel system and the “businesses” still exist, maintained as a museum by the Historical Society.  Tours run throughout the day.  It is fascinating.  There is a drug store, telegraph, brothel, an opium den, a “cowboy” honky-tonk saloon with full bar and active poker tables, a barber shop, a Chinese laundry, an Italian restaurant, and more.  The local guide made it come to life and had so much to share.  Apparently, the Railroad also housed Chinese laborers in quarters along the underground tunnels to protect them from other railroad workers who resented the cheap labor being brought in.  Bare bunks in cells.

I did have one odd experience.  I was pulling Hilda (my trailer) when I headed to the library early one morning.  Since she is too long to fit in the diagonal spaces on the street or in the library parking lot, I pulled around the side wall and sat drinking my coffee and waiting for the library to open.  Rap-rap on my truck window.  Yes, officer?????

A local resident had called in complaining that I was “camped” illegally.  No, sir, I am here to visit the library in your fair city.  Gruff-voice question: “How long have you been here?”  Super cooperative-voice response: “About an hour.”  He was pleasant, just doing his duty following up on a complaint.  The complainant woman was yelling from the back porch of a nearby second-story flat.  He politely told her to go back inside.  She started yelling at him, and he not-so-politely told her again to go inside.  I think she wanted him to drag me off in handcuffs.  He said I was actually legally parked, but to diffuse the situation he asked me to move to the street, and said it was fine if I took four parking spots.  OK, problem solved.  Nice to meet you.  I wish I had his picture!!!!! 

Tuesday, June11 and Wednesday, June 12. Hill County Fairgrounds.  Havre, Montana.

I had a small construction issue and needed electricity to run my power tools (yes, I am carrying tools and other “stuff” secreted in the bed of my truck).  The 50-year-old shelf that was holding all my canned goods protested and collapsed.  So I needed to leave Beaver Creek and move into town to find some power.  I discovered that the Hill County Fairgrounds on the edge of town allowed overnight RV parking, with a small fee if you used electricity.  And a great shower facility with really hot water.  A wonderful find.  I moved in, hooked up, and reconstructed the shelf and supports with my saw, drill, screws, and some pieces of lumber I was carrying.  And a great “in-town” sunset looking out my trailer window!! Done and done.

Bernice Ende

I mention some people I meet by name, and most by our encounter.  Bernice needs her own special mention.

I crossed lives with Bernice at the fairgrounds.  She was camped with a two-horse trailer a little way from me, close to the fairgrounds horse barn.  My horse-person persona turned on, and I introduced myself to her and her two wonderful horses.   It turns out Bernice is a “long rider.”  By definition, that is a person who rides a horse on a journey of at least 1,000 miles.  In fact, over the last 13 years, Bernice has ridden alone over 29,000 miles.  She is the first woman to ride alone circling the U.S.  She has also ridden coast to coast round trip twice.  And numerous other trips.

She has written a book, “Lady Long Rider, Alone Across America on Horseback.”  When I met her, she was near the end of a 20-state book tour arranged by her publisher.  She had completed 92 presentations! The book tour schedule was too tight to actually ride, so for the first time in her life she was pulling a horse trailer (with a 1969 Ford truck).  She gives about an hour presentation with video and slides and open audience conversation.  I went to the presentation she gave in Havre the night I met her.  So interesting!  The audience was totally pulled in.  And of course I bought the book.  Derek Hann, local reporter for the Havre Daily News, wrote a nice article published on June 12.  You can find it on their website.  You can also find a lot more about her by searching online. 

Beyond her accomplishments, Bernice is a fantastic person.  She is an inspiration to everyone, especially women, to follow their vision, whatever it may be.  She certainly inspired me.  We spent some of the next day together, sharing some camp time and a lot of conversation.   In her travels she has been invited to people’s homes, schools, community events, and every type of human encounter. Oh… and we found that we are both relatively new members of the amazing women’s adventure group Sisters On the Fly!  Yeah, Sisters!!!

We each left in our own direction the following morning.  She to Great Falls to thankfully complete the very last stop on her “somebody else’s schedule” journey, and I to continue my “at my pace” (thanks, Carol) circle of the U.S.  At the end of my year journey, I will likely have a top-ten list of places, and one of people.  Bernice has already earned a place on the people list.

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels, Part 4

Yellowstone, Cody, Great Falls, and Glacier

Monday, May 27, 2019.  Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming.

I was amazed coming into the park that some of the larger bodies of water (Lewis Lake) were still completely frozen.  Many of the roads and camping areas had not yet opened for the season.  I was able to find a great little wooded campsite in the Canyon Village Campground about 2/3 of the way up the park.  Seems like bison/buffalo are everywhere! Still snow on the ground, but the temperature was not too bad. (Did I mention one of my best investments for this trip is a great heater??!!)

I had never been to Yellowstone, so the entire experience was new and exhilarating.  Not just the geysers I had heard of, but acres of fields with bubbling cauldrons and surface crust that looks like it could break open any second.  So fascinating!

It was rainy, but no snow.  I called it Mary Poppins Day in Yellowstone, because so many people were carrying umbrellas!  I drove through some of the smaller areas and saw incredible canyons and waterfalls.  I did see Old Faithful erupt to great heights, but because of the rain it is hard to see in the pictures.  Water up and water down at the same time didn’t seem as dramatic as it might have been.

I stopped with 50 others along the road to watch a black bear in the river below.  And just like the postcards, the bison/buffalo wandered across the road like they owned the place!!

On my way out of the park the next day, I climbed switchbacks and went up into the area called Yellowstone Grand Canyon.  Deep canyon with the Yellowstone River far below.  At other areas in the park, the river meanders gently through, and fly-fisherman are wading out in the middle.  Interesting.

I was almost out of the park on the east side when I saw my only Grizzly this trip.  He (she?) was on an open, grassy hill about 25 yards above the road.  Along with a galley of photographers (many of whom had tripods and huge distance lenses), I spent about a half hour parked and watching his lumberings.   I could actually see better with the naked eye than with either my camera’s basic lens or my phone.  Time to get at least some sort of zoom lens.

I said goodbye to Yellowstone’s gorgeous variety of lakes, mountains, rivers, and steamy fields. I will be back.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019.  Cody, Wyoming.

Time for my second Sisters on the Fly connection.  I made contact with Robin Bartel (Sister #6884) and was able to spend a fun night at her place south of Cody when I left Yellowstone.  She and husband, Jim, were packing their trailer to leave the next morning for a Sister and Mister event with the Montana SOTF group.  Robin is an avid fisherman, and her Outback trailer is renamed TrOutback. The inside is fish decor. So cool. It was a busy evening, but we still found time to hang out in my tiny trailer and on her huge wrap-around ranch house porch.  And they invited me for dinner!  I got to look around their beautiful property, see a group of “yard” deer that came to visit in the evening, and hear stories of rivers, fish, irrigation, water rights, grizzlies, and more of the fabric of what makes up the land and people of rural Wyoming.  So interesting!  Bonus: a sound night’s sleep in my cozy trailer in the quiet of the open spaces. Robin and Jim were wonderful, and I look forward to heading back that way again.

I spent some enjoyable time in the town of Cody the next day, used the WiFi at the local laundromat, had one of the best Rueben sandwiches ever for lunch, and then worked my way up the road on my way toward Great Falls, MT.  Windmills, more open range cattle, and a night at a really nice little roadside park in yet again another great “found” spot I just stumbled upon.

Thursday, May 30 to Monday, June 3, 2019.   Great Falls, Montana.

Family time.  Had a wonderful visit with my niece (sister of the Grand Junction niece) and her family Able to help celebrate the high school graduation of the “baby” of their group.  He is now the tallest of the house, so his sisters are more careful about calling him their “little” brother!  In California, I am used to surfer looks, which seemed to be transferred to this good looking young man in Montana.

Other friends and family were in town, including Grandpa (my brother from Grand Junction), and we took advantage of the time to do some sightseeing at the local dam and parks.  Great Falls has so many parks!!  Also found time for lots of eating out.  Oh…. and thanks to my niece’s husband, Coley, we all feasted on backyard barbecued ribs that were to die for!

Graduation was Friday, and I planned to leave on Sunday.  But the “need” for a telephoto lens kept bugging me, so Amazon was called upon to ship one by Monday.  It indeed arrived, and I turned the engine on and moseyed down the road at about 3:00 Monday afternoon. Goodbye to my perfect family spot on the curb at my niece’s house!

I was so close to Glacier that I absolutely couldn’t pass up the opportunity to head that way.  I stopped at about 6:00 at another nice roadside stopping place.  I have been to mountains, rivers, lakes, desert, etc.  And the best sunset photo I’ve taken yet was at this roadside rest.  Take them where you find them!

Tuesday, June 4 to Thursday, June 6, 2019.  Glacier National Park, Montana.

My path is generally moving east along the northern route, so I determined to go to the east side of the park.  I followed the signs for East Glacier, which actually took me to the Two Medicine park entrance, quite a bit south of where I thought I was going.  The road from Two Medicine up to St. Mary was still closed for the winter, which would have meant about 80 miles of backtracking, so I said to myself, “Oh, well.  I’ll stay here for the night and move on tomorrow.”  Of course, the rest of the story is that it was such a magnificent find!  My site was right on the river as it empties into Two Medicine Lake, in a gorgeous location below the melting snows and waterfalls.  A family of mountain sheep visited for a while, in the campsite, then braved the cold water to make the swim to the other side and bound quickly out of site up the mountain. Fun. I absolutely loved my stay.  I camped for three days and was able to spend time talking with rangers, fellow campers (local and tourists), and seasonal workers at the large camp store.  The building where the store is housed was a restaurant and lodge catering to visitors in the 1800s, and it definitely has the aura of time past. The colored rocks that make up the bridge over the stream leading to the store came out of the environment that way. Beautiful! I loved this visit. It will be a go-to destination.

I did intend to go north and into the Park again further up so I could drive the Going to the Sun Road.  However, as I found out, the road was still closed for the season for most of the way.  That journey, as well, will be reserved for my “Hilda Explores the West” trip next year.

Glacier National Park is magical.  Each of the incredible National Parks I have visited have had their own emotional connection and almost overpowering physical presence.  Yet they are all different.  We are so fortunate to have them.  And I am so fortunate to be able to check them off my list!  Onward!!!

Aunt Hilda’s Attic Travels Part 3

May 2019:  Colorado and Wyoming

Thursday, May 10 to Sunday, May 19, 2019.  Grand Junction, Colorado.

Stayed in Grand Junction a little longer than expected.  Parked in a gravel space next to my brother’s house, but slept in the house so we could interact more.  When we were kids, we tormented each other, but somehow we managed to survive (and enjoy) this visit.  I don’t see him often, so it was nice to spend time with my “good looking” brother (his words, lol).  His rear yard slopes about 50 yards directly to the Colorado River.  Sitting on his back deck, there is not a neighbor in sight.  Across the river is the town of Grand Junction, so there are city lights.  Plus rainbows and roses. Pretty good duty.

I left the deck door open one night, and a raccoon came in and helped himself to a bag of bird seed that was sitting on the floor.  Hmmmm…..  the birds enjoyed the bag that he dragged on the deck and opened. 

My niece and her family also live in Grand Junction, so more visiting and getting together for activities was in order.  Went to a school function and heard my grand-niece sing.  Met their dogs.  Went to eat at Olive Garden.  Took a family photo.  Check the box.

Also took advantage of “town” amenities and had a glass shop replace the upper front window in my trailer.  Found a great vintage RV builder, and was able to have him weld a receiver so I could mount my bike/chair rack to the back of the trailer instead of the front of the truck.  No more overheating due to radiator obstruction.  Problem solved (until another problem rears its head).  And I loved looking at the Airstream and Scamp that were in stages of restoration.  He did the whole polish on the Airstream, and was designing/building custom cabinets and layouts for both of them.  I fell in love with a total rebuild 12’ vintage trailer that was sitting with a For Sale sign.  It sold before I left town.  I am sure if/when I come to the point of wanting either a restoration or rebuild, I will be in touch with Kelly at New Vintage RV in Grand Junction.

And of course, the unexpected. Spotted a hot dog stand in the wonderful “downtown” area. Drove back around the block (yes, I am a hot dog addict!), and came across Jim and Pat, who are full-time RVers who have landed in Grand Junction for a bit and are operating this stand. One Chicago Dog, coming up. They get to be outside and meet all kinds of people (like me) and share their stories!

Sunday, May 19 to Tuesday, May 21.  Brown’s Park, northwest corner of Colorado.

Left Grand Junction in the afternoon, so knew I would not make it all the way to my destination. Found another “road less traveled” with great views and interesting rock formations.  When I got sleepy driving over the mountain and the switchbacks were beginning to make me dizzy, I pulled into a turnout, turned off the engine, and spent the night.  Beautiful location high in the trees.  Coffee in the morning, and off again.

Brown’s Park is a U.S. Fish and Wildlife-administered free campground in a remote area on the Green River.  The volunteer at the Visitor Center in Grand Junction recommended it, and said he and his wife had recently gone there.  Always accept recommendations from the locals! It was early in the season and pretty cold and rainy, so I found myself the only camper.  Great site.  I could almost fall out my trailer door into the river.  Birds, fish, and endless moving water.  Stayed for three calming days and only saw the ranger, who drove by once a day.

When I later told my good friend, Mark, that I had been to Brown’s Park, he said, “Oh, my grandfather killed a man in Brown’s Park.”  What????  Turns out that in the late 1800s, his grandfather was instrumental in tracking down and capturing the outlaw Tom Horn.   A companion of Horn’s is the one who was killed when he tried to shoot it out.  Mr. Horn was eventually hung.  The tale was the basis of a 1978 movie starring Steve McQueen.  I am continually amazed by the hidden layers of stories in people.

Tuesday, May 21 to Thursday, May 23.  Pinedale, Wyoming.

Sisters on the Fly (national women’s camping/fishing/traveling group) member Mindi Crabb listed her place as a potential stopover for “Sisters” who are traveling through and need a place for a night or two.  Mindi and her fiance, Jeff, live in an original 1945 ranch house with panoramic views of the distant mountains.   Two horses, a mule, Pepe the wonder dog, and Barnie the barn cat are also in residence.  Mindi and Jeff are both deeply involved in their community, and bring a wealth of historical knowledge.  I took their advice and visited a number of local attractions and the Museum of the Mountain Man (please see it if you pass that way). 

Traveling from Colorado to Wyoming took me through more open range and snowy mountains. When I arrived, Mindi said she had counted on me bringing the sunshine.  Maybe not.  I had three inches of snow on my truck and trailer when I woke up the first morning.  It did melt quickly, and we were able to get a peek of the distant mountains.

Mindi has a vintage trailer named “Never Lost”, and they also have an outdoor “greenhouse” shelter and a couple truck-bed based tents that use wood stoves. All Jeff designed and built. My kind of roughing it!

I attended a Pinedale Library appearance by author Grove Mower.  Grove lives in Chicago, and has written a trilogy of novels based on his experiences as a college-age young man working a summer job on a rough Wyoming cattle ranch near Pinedale in 1970.  Look for “Forty Rod Road:  A Young Man’s Tale of Adventure and Discovery.”  Colorful characters to say the least.  A happy happenstance that I was there the night he spoke.  We talked for quite a while about his adventures and my anticipated ones.

I loved the town of Pinedale.  It sits on Highway 191 about 80 lonely miles southeast of Jackson Hole.  Deer in yards in town (do you like the mini trailer??). Mindi and Jeff were such gracious hosts.  They invited me back, and I plan to take them up on the invitation. Thank you, Sister #1058.

May 24 to 26, 2019.  Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  Grand Teton National Park.

Definition from the locals:  Jackson is the town, and Jackson Hole is the area.  I was still confused.

Gros Ventre Campground, Grand Teton National Park.

With directions from the ranger when I checked in, I was able to grab the furthest site in the campground, and park my trailer so that my door opened on a fantastic view of the majestic Grand Teton mountain.  The first day was so overcast that I couldn’t see the mountains at all, but they did indeed appear and give me an amazing sight for most of the three days I was there. 

There is a large elk refuge adjacent to the Park. The rangers told me that in February there were about 7,000 elk. But they didn’t wait around for me, and have all moved north. I did meet up with a young female moose. She wandered along next to my truck for a while, then ventured off. Shedding her winter coat, so she was not too pretty.

The area around the campground offered many opportunities to wander. I drove north then east down a Forest Service road (left the trailer in camp, so the back roads were more negotiable), and discovered an area along the Gros Ventre River that was forever changed by the largest known landslide in the U.S. in 1928. A dam was created by the slide, which later gave way and took back some of the land and a few lives. A lake emerged, and the Forest Service operates a few wonderful campgrounds. I only visited one. I think I may have to come back and spend a few weeks just camping there.

Of the six campgrounds in the National Park, this is the closest one (about 10 miles) to Jackson.  I was able to go into town every day and do some exploring.  The hills around Jackson and the mountains that create the surrounding area seem to suddenly rise straight up out of the ground.   I saw three (there may be more) arches in town made totally from elk antlers! The town began as a tent community in the late 1800s, and opened up ranching on the other side of the pass from Idaho.  Travelers from St. Louis and other points east were able to make annual trade journeys.

(Suggestion: take a breath. This next part may be a little difficult to follow.)

My Great Uncle Arthur (my grandmother’s brother) was born in Jackson in November 1888.  Family lore says he was born in the back of a saloon, but my investigation with the researcher at the Jackson Hole Historical Society/Museum showed that the first commercial building wasn’t built until 1895.  So our best guess now is that he was born in someone’s home.  Records show that in 1888 there were 23 residents in the area, so Great Grandma Evans would have had limited places to have her baby.  My Aunt Jane (my mother’s sister) is now 97.  When I called her to ask why she thought her grandmother was in that vicinity, she said, “Oh, those people traveled all over.”   So, there you go.  That part of the family came from Wales.  Many were miners who settled in Missouri and then participated in the California Gold Rush.  A few stopped along the way and settled in what is now Boise.  The Teton Pass opened up in the latter 1800s, so our thought is that perhaps the family was traveling from Missouri to Idaho for a visit.  Makes my little trek seem pretty tame!

Monday, May 27, 2019.  Memorial Day. 

I am hoping to find a “first come first serve” camping spot in Yellowstone.  Wish me luck!

March 29 to May 10, 2019

Today is May 10, 2019, and I am in Grand Junction, Colorado.

Wow. I am not going to apologize or explain my absence from being the Great Communicator I thought I would be.  Suffice to say that I have enjoyed being mostly off-grid, but I clearly understand the void created by lack of “connection” or “bars.”

So it’s catch-up time. My journey seems to evolve from campsite to campsite, so that is where I’ll start. I hope frequency and description are given more attention as we turn more calendar and map pages.  Each site had its own story connected with some of the most interesting people and their stories!  I will also say that the six weeks I have spent on the road so far have been all that I had hoped, with great anticipation of things to come.

Friday, Mar 29 to Sunday, Mar 31.  Pala RV Resort, Temecula, CA.

Lemondrop Divas women’s camping event.  This was the kickoff and sendoff.  Great food, casino, and vintage trailer fun with an awesome group of ladies.  I will miss them (and their fun-filled adventures!) over the next year.

Monday, Apr 1.  Overnight in Barstow, CA. Then on toward Death Valley.

Left Pala in the morning. A detour on Interstate 15 took me close to the Riverside National Cemetery, where my father is buried. One of those young men who fought for all of us in World War II, and was lucky enough to come home. Saipan, South Pacific. Stopped to get directions, parked, and made the walk through the grounds to pay a visit. I can still hear taps playing the day we left him here. Miss you, Pop.

Made an obligatory stop at the huge Walmart in Victorville to stock up. Where am I putting all this stuff???? Mostly dried and canned food and non-perishables. When I buy ice, my old-fashioned trailer icebox keeps things cold for about three days, so then I eat lots of fresh vegetables.

Overnight stop at the overflow parking lot near the Pilot Truck stop in Barstow.  Me, five trucks, and two RVs. Stopped late afternoon so I would be prepared for an early start.

Tuesday, Apr 2 to Wednesday, Apr 9.  Remote BLM open desert south of Death Valley National Park, CA.

Morning finds me gassing up in Barstow and heading to Baker. I tried to go past The Mad Greek, but my steering wheel won and I ended up with a strawberry shake. Oh, so good! Then it was off on “the road less traveled.” Highway 127 toward an area near Death Valley. I did manage to find a few straggler desert blooms along the way.

The GPS coordinates for my destination site came from one of my camping Facebook groups.  Just as described, and just what I wanted:  remote desert sand on the edge of a canyon a few miles from the hot springs of Tecopa, CA.  Room to drag out a lot of stuff from my trailer and truck bed and repack. About 20 minutes from the town of Shoshone, with a great cafe and helpful locals. If you get that way, stop in at the Crowbar!

I had prior arrangements to meet some friends for a picnic at China Date Ranch on Apr 8. Hadn’t seen them for 20 years … great fun! My friend, Carol, also came out from Las Vegas for a few days with her tent and her Bassett Hound.  The desert wind finally chased her away.  Chased me, too, the next day.

Thursday, Apr 10 to Wednesday, Apr 24.  Friends’ property south of Las Vegas, NV.

This was planned to be a few-days stay to perform a few upgrades on the trailer and visit a few friends.  One thing led to another, and it turned into two weeks.  A huge thank you to my Lemon Drop Diva sisters for helping me find a new trailer rim when I discovered the one the knowledgeable RV expert shop put on the spare tire didn’t fit. Long story, but happy ending. The upside was that the extra layover allowed me to see some more friends, play some poker, go to an Easter egg hunt with my three little great-grandsons, and surprise a visiting grandson by picking him up at the airport on my way out of town.  All is well.

Wednesday, Apr 24.  Sinclair station, Alamo, NV.

Intended to stay at the Pahranghat Wildlife Refuge, but the truck overheated and I stayed on the RV lot at the Sinclair station for the night. Checked with the mechanic in the morning. 

Remember the pic of my zero-gravity chair and other stuff I was carrying so efficiently on the bike rack on the front bumper? Should have known better.  Restricting airflow to the radiator is not the best idea. Hmmm. (I must also give a nod to my friend, Keith, who asked me when he saw my rig, “Aren’t you concerned you may overheat the engine with those chairs on the front?”)  So the chairs were relocated, the cooling system was checked, and I was off. No harm done, and the only cost was a little bit of time.

Thursday, Apr 25 to Thursday, May 1.  Eagle Valley Reservoir near Pioche, NV.

This place was recommended by Donna Osbourn and her husband. It is actually Spring Valley State Park about 20 miles northeast of Pioche, NV. Wonderful campground with private sites above the Eagle River Dam and the reservoir it creates.   A popular fishing spot stocked with good size Rainbow trout.  I bought a license and fished from the dock and the shore!  Trout for dinner!  I had the perfect spot for a full week.  Wonderful.  So emotionally refreshing!

I arrived on Thursday and had the place almost to myself. I had Site #1 with a clear view of the reservoir. Then the weekend folks arrived and it filled up. Still very pleasant and peaceful. Mostly campfire-cooked meals, with a trip to Pioche for breakfast with the locals. When Tuesday came, other campsites emptied and I was alone with the deer and an occasional Ranger visit. I loved it. Combination of sunshine and a few afternoon thunderstorms. Stayed until Thursday.

Thursday, May 2.  Abbey Inn, Cedar City, UT.

Ready to leave early. Windshield is frosted over and the temperature is dropping. Definitely time to move on!

Drove the 120 miles from the campground to this large metropolis by my recent standards.  First stop was to treat myself to breakfast at I-Hop.  Cell phone service and Walmart. Time to catch up and stock up.  Also went to visit National Forest Service, National Park Service, and BLM field offices. Made the choice to stay overnight and use motel WiFi for laptop.  Nice to have a verrrrry long hot shower … which of course put me to sleep immediately. So much for the laptop and WiFi.

Friday, May 3.  Roadside turnout, Tropic, UT.

Full day. Breakfast at the Inn. My tablemates were from Irvine, CA, in town for their daughter’s graduation from Southern Utah University. Small world, Verse 27.

The turn east took me toward some of the country’s most spectacular scenery. Took Scenic Highway 14 from Cedar City east over the mountains. Still 4 feet of snow at higher elevations. Road was plowed and dry, but snow as far as you could see when the trees cleared.  Came out of the hills, went north, and took the bus tour through Bryce Canyon National Park.  Gorgeous canyons and formations, as I am finding throughout Utah. 

Found my way north and east, and came to a small town with a sign that read, “Bryce Canyon Mule Days.  First weekend in May.”  Really?  And I am here? Whoopee! I found the mule staging area out of town, with over 30 large fancy horse trailers and horse people.  I had horses years ago, and it is still in my blood.

Found a pull-out up the road, which I shared with “Judy”, travelling in her white van.  We had a great conversation and morning coffee.

Saturday, May 4.  Bryce Canyon Mule Days event site, Tropic, UT.

Back to the Mule Days location first thing in the morning to check it out.  Full gear mule trail folks, with some competitions and demonstrations.  Folks from all over Utah, Montana, and Wyoming. Many of them loaded their mules into trailers and went off for a trail ride in the breathtaking hills around Bryce Canyon. What a wonderful way to see the area. Spent the day parked near the horse trailers, and they invited me to stay the night.  You betcha’! A great group of people.

Sunday, May 5.  Otter Creek State Park, UT.

Meandered east, west, and north.  And maybe a little bit south.  Looking at beautiful Utah scenery and following country roads.  Went one way, then made a U-turn and doubled back 30 miles “just because.” Stumbled on another reservoir campground. Time to stop for the night, so Otter Creek State Park was it. 

I was only a few feet from a very large reservoir.  Came with a built-in family of fishermen! Mom, dad, and two kids. They had their chairs set up on the shore by what turned out to be my campsite.  They offered to move, but I convinced them to stay, and I got to watch them fish.  I enjoyed the water view in both evening and morning.

Monday, May 6.  Monticello BLM campground southwest of Blanding, UT.

I found many more areas and roads for impossibly beautiful meandering, including Capital Reef National Park.  Incredible rock formations and “Hoolus” created by thousands of years of water erosion.  So fascinating.  And yes, I cheated on the photos and used some of the brochures. It’s tough to take pictures and drive down winding roads!!

Of course, no camping available in the Park (one-year ahead reservations!!), so I kept on going and found a great free BLM camping area as I approached Blanding.  The museum there is my morning destination, so good place to stop for the night.  Two families further down in the campground along the water, but I have a very private spot.

Tuesday, May 7 to Wednesday, May 8.  Dewey Bridge BLM camping area northeast of Moab, UT.

At my new friend Judy’s suggestion, went to the museum in Blanding. A quaint small town that I think I could live in. The museum is really the Edge of the Cedars State Park, and the staff is a high authority on Native history and culture.  Researchers come from around the world to study.  Thousands of items in their collection, with hundreds on display.  Many items are over 1,000 years old, with items still being discovered.  A family hiking a few miles away the first week in April found an almost perfect ladle.  They contacted the museum, the State authorities, and the local tribe.  Decision was made to extricate the ladle and display it at the museum.  For some items, the tribe can (and does) decide to leave items in situ as left by their ancestors.  There is an actual archaeological dig on the property that is available to walk in.  Spent two hours there and could have spent more.  Well worth the stop.

Continued north to Moab. The Visitor Center staff there suggested some BLM camping on the Colorado River going north, then east.  Perfect suggestion.  Went 30 miles along the river and found a great spot to stay a couple days right on the river among the colored cliffs.  Magical evenings and mornings.  Rafters put in close by, which was also fun to watch.

Thursday, May 9.  Grand Junction, CO.

Left my BLM site fairly early, finding any country road I could to keep me off Interstate 70. Open range and I agree. This is the next “planned” stop on my route.  A visit with my brother and my niece and her family.  Chance to visit and take some pictures for the family album.  Also need to have some big-town items taken care of while I am here.  Replace a window in the trailer (glass chip that spread three ways), better rack for my zero-gravity chair, oil change, blah, blah, blah.

So now I am in Colorado. Google Maps says it is 780 miles and about an 11-hour trip. It took me 6 weeks. Perfect! Plan to leave here the middle of the week headed toward Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Parks, and then Great Falls, Montana.  I understand many of the roads in Yellowstone are still unopened after the winter, so we will see what we will see.

Leaving Home

March 29, 2019 Thoughts on the first day ….

Camping stuff in the truck, living stuff in the trailer, and sitting stuff on the front. Ready, set, go.
Packed to capacity. Hardly room for me! Extra stuff will find its place along the way.
‘Bye, Kins… it’s been fun hanging out with you. Time for Grandma to move along.
One more last-minute load…..

This is the day. It has been on my calendar for months, and it is finally here. Jumping off time should be about 10:00 this morning.

Of course, mixed emotions. My 7-year-old granddaughter and her mom took my picture and said goodbye before she left for school. I will miss my life here. I have lived under the same roof with my son and his family for over three years. A wonderful situation with private quarters, independence, and much love. I couldn’t ask for more.

Southern California living with almost perfect weather, lots of friends and activities, and super comfortable space. So why do I want to leave this cocoon and venture off by myself in a 10-foot very spare little travel trailer with no plumbing or refrigeration? I am only 72 years old, in pretty good health, and I just feel the need to do this while I can. No fancy answer. I lived in my vintage motor home for over ten years a while back, and, as I told my son, “I’m not done. (Insert drum roll.) I am going to leave one day this Spring and I will be back one year later.” (Insert gasp.) March 29 became the selected day.

First, I love my little trailer. I am very comfortable. Single bed, stove and oven, icebox (that will probably be used for storage only), sink (but no running water), and minimal storage for food and life’s necessities. Two of my wonderful sewing buddies helped me turn items I had sewn or quilted and carted around since my old motor home days into new cushion and window coverings for my new space. I even found room for my mother’s favorite Boston rocker! She would like that, I am sure. I have a dependable Chevy Silverado 1500 to pull this tiny trailer, and off I go. I am so happy. Before leaving, I sat alone in this little piece of Heaven for many hours and dreamed about what might be out there. I am about to find out.

I expect to visit friends and family, re-visit places I have been, and discover new people and places along the way. I will spend some days sitting quietly by a river, some days exploring. Some days in thrift shops or playing cards, maybe poker. Some days visiting my incredible vintage trailer Sisters. I will spend part of the Fall in the three states I have never visited: Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont. Other than that “plan”, I will mostly decide which way to go on the day I leave each place I stop. I find that exhilarating! This country has so much to offer. I want to find some of it.

I am grateful for the support of my family and friends, especially the ones who think I am nuts or can’t imagine a solo venture. For them, I promise to be as careful as I can. But not so careful that I don’t go down that unknown road just to see what’s there!

My friend and women’s poker advocate, Lupe Soto, encouraged me to write a blog. I have no experience in the blog world, so you and I will learn as we go. Thank you for coming along!