A Drive Through Badlands National Park

The views are absolutely stunning. It's an easy drive but it got the name Badlands because if you were traveling on horseback, or on foot, it wasn't an easy journey.

Here is a small sample of the pictures I took.

Avoiding Chicago

To get from Cleveland to Rapid City, South Dakota, the most direct route is I-90 West. But it goes right through the center of Chicago. It's approximately 1,050 miles and the drive time estimate is roughly 17 hours. But did I mention it goes right through the middle of Chicago? We didn't want to go through the middle of Chicago.  Heavy traffic, dozens of lanes, lots of merging traffic, towing a camper. No. We would probably be stuck in traffic for hours or worse yet, be involved in an accident caused by someone who didn't think we were driving fast enough. Look at this picture. Who wants to be stuck in that??

We decided on a route that took us back south toward Dayton and across to Indianapolis, across Illinois into Iowa and up to Minnesota and across to South Dakota. Approximately 1,390 miles with an estimated drive time of 21 hours.

That's an extra 4 hours. More if you consider that we stop every couple of hours to stretch, refuel, or eat. All in all, I think avoiding Chicago probably cost us an extra day of travel time. I'm really not sure it was worth it. I think the extra time to get through Chicago traffic might have been an hour, or even two. I just can't imagine it would have been 6 or more, which is pretty much what it took us when you consider stopping time.

All I can say is that if there is ever a "next time" - we will be sucking it up and driving through Chicago.

Turning Left

Everyplace on earth has it's share of bad drivers - assuming it has roads and cars. But I think Ohio may have a few more than its share. Many moons ago, when I was just a wee lass - I was waiting my turn at a light in Akron when a car full of young black guys turned left in front of me from the right hand lane. I was outraged! Outraged! What were they thinking? My best guess is that they hoped I might turn into them so they'd get that rattle trap they were driving fixed at my expense. And by the way, I'd have been equally outraged if they were white guys, or old guys, or girls for that matter. But that's not what happened and I remember it like it was yesterday because it was relatively frightening. When there is more than one lane, you don't turn left from the right lane.

A friend of mine was telling me about his elderly aunt who didn't ever make a left turn. She would drive blocks out of her way just so that all of her turns would be right turns. That's funny. Peculiar funny and ha-ha funny. Imagine going that far out of your way just to avoid a left hand turn!

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago when we were in Ohio. Out in the country on State Route (or maybe it's US Route) 18 in Wellington, headed for my aunt's house. There was some piece of farm equipment in front of us but since we were about to turn left, we just slowed down and didn't try to pass. Just as we were about to turn, a little white pick-up truck came flying past us passing us and the farm equipment. Followed by a Mack truck traveling at high speed. We had our turn signal on. But neither of them would have seen it because they were coming from behind the vehicle that was directly behind us. The yellow lines were clearly painted on the road indicating that no one should be passing anyone. Had Mark's reactions not been quick it would have been an epic crash. The guy in the little pick up would have been no match for our F-250, although had he broadsided us, we would have certainly felt the impact. Equally, our F-250 is no match for a Mack truck. The guy in the white pickup is probably just stupid. But seriously, if you're driving a Mack truck, you should be a professional driver. And professional drivers should know that you don't pass in an intersection of any type, whether it's a crossroad or T-junction. And you don't pass where there are solid yellow lines.

We are thankful to be here. But we may start going out of our way to avoid left turns - especially in Ohio.

Cleveland Rocks!

We went to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame a decade ago. I always felt deprived because we spent the whole day on one floor and saw very little of the other floors. Well, to our delight, they have reconfigured the museum and  it is much easier to see everything. Most everything was on one floor with some special exhibits on other floors. I think we saw most all of it. Loved it! And I still think that if people want to be inducted, they ought to suck it up and turn up in Cleveland!!  Cleveland Rocks!!!

The Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railway

Train rides are always fun and the Cuyahoga Valley Scenic Railway is no exception. We rode in the dome care - the Silver Bronco. The air conditioning struggled, but it was still a relatively pleasant journey. This was diesel service but Mark wants to come back for the steam train in September. (Not this year!.)

What Next?

Camping is supposed to be adventurous. We've certainly had our share of adventures on this trip. On the way to Ohio, somewhere in Indiana one of the tires came apart. I think the technical term is "delaminated". No matter what you call it, we had to wait about an hour for AAA to send someone out to put the spare on. But it prompted us to give the tires a closer look (mind you, we had checked them before we left Texas and they looked fine). We noticed that two more of them were looking questionable and wanting to avoid further problems or delays we started looking for tire stores on our route. We finally found one that had four tires the right size, but they were 8-ply instead of 4-ply and would cost twice as much. But that was okay because they should last twice as long. The stops delayed us by a couple of hours but we made it to our target destination for the night.

Then when we arrived at Findley State Park in Ohio (a lovely park, by the way) we hooked everything up and noticed that water was pouring out of the connection. (We'd spent a night in St. Louis and nothing like that had happened.) Of course it was late on Friday and we had our family gathering on Saturday so nothing could be done until Monday. We just had to keep turning the water off unless we were doing dishes or showering. If we left it on, it just spewed water all over the ground. (My fear was that it was spewing water somewhere in the camper that we couldn't see.)  We sent a message to a Camping World in Akron and made an appointment for Tuesday afternoon. It turns out that the connection for the hot water had come loose. That explained the really dodgy shower on Monday. It took all day to fix it, so instead of getting on the road for South Dakota, we went back to Findley for the night, visited a bit with family and headed out the next morning.

We finally arrived in Kennebec, South Dakota. I was concerned because the bathroom door was sticking and there seemed to be a soft spot near the door to the outside. Thankfully, leveling seemed to fix those problems. Mark was filling the water tank for the trip to Rapid City. I was inside the camper and I heard a "thud".

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know."

Well, you have to investigate a noise like that. Turns out it was the water tank splitting and dumping all the water on the ground. We took delivery of this camper in June of 2015. The water tank just split. What on earth???

No worries. Mark can fix it with a fiberglass repair kit. We don't drink the water in the tank, we only shower and wash dishes with it. Although I don't think a fiberglass repair affects the integrity of the water. (Still better than what they've got in Flint!)

When we arrived in Rapid City we missed the turn for the KOA. We had to go an extra block and turn around. Now here's the thing - as we turned into the drive (uphill) the leaf spring suspension arm that attaches to the chassis of the RV broke. This is serious, folks. Thank God we were travelling at a speed of 2 mph instead of 70 mph. But it was Saturday and nothing could be done until Monday, We thought it was fortunate that there was a body shop at the bottom of the hill by the entrance. When Monday arrived, we went down the hill to the body shop only to find that they didn't do that type of repair. However, they did recommend a couple of welding shops. And thank God Mark is an engineer. He'd already assessed the damage, taken photographs and designed the fix. The folks at Professional Metal Works were so fabulous! They got it all fixed on Monday so that last night, we were able to sleep in our own bed!

In the meantime, I phoned the manufacturer of our camper. We've taken it to Ohio twice, Florida twice, Colorado twice, and Arkansas once. It's not that old. We don't go off road. We drive on Interstate and State highways. The chassis is splitting in half??? I was

starting to rehearse the litany of everything that has ever gone wrong with this unit from the day I brought it home and dozens of things jarred loose and I had to take it back to the dealer to repair those things and the service manager kept telling me what an awful day he had. (I didn't care.!!)

The manufacturer sent the info on to the company that manufactured the chassis. I am in contact with them and they tell me that they are going to cover this. We'll see. They also told me they were going to talk to the people who were doing the repair and I know that they didn't. They've assured me that they will reimburse me for the cost of this. I think they probably owe me a bit more. Two of the week-old tires are now completely ruined and we lost yet another day waiting on repairs.

On the positive side - it could have been far worse. We could have been traveling at a high rate of speed when it broke. We could have been in the middle of nowhere instead of in Rapid City. My guardian angel (as always) was working overtime.

Seeing Green

Seeing green usually refers to jealously, but for us seeing green is something Mark doesn't do particularly well because he is red/green color blind. That is why it is my job to locate the diesel pumps when we pull into a service station. (Diesel pump handles are typically green, unless you're at a BP station then all the regular pumps are green and the diesel pumps are black.)

And because we're towing an RV, it's important to spot them right away so we don't have to circle round the pumps multiple times trying to get in the right position.

The diesel pumps are almost always on either end of the service island. On the morning in question I found them easily and told Mark that they were at "the end".

Instead of circling around, he pulled out of the service station, went around the block and then he headed for the far end of the service island. As near as I could tell, we were headed for the wrong side of the pump. But he didn't pull up to the pump, he pulled up to the kerosene pump. It was on "the end" of the service station, not the end of the service island. But who knows, maybe the air and water were there, too. I wasn't paying any more attention than I had to. Then he told me that there was no place to pay and asked me if I would get out go inside to pay.

My question. "Pay for what?" What is he asking me to pay for? We were at the kerosene pump. Was there an air pump or a water pump that I couldn't see? But instead of answering the question Mark stomped off telling me that he would pay for it himself.

Fine. I still didn't know what he was going to pay for, but it sure wasn't diesel. When I pointed out that he was at the kerosene pump he was upset because I was supposed to be helping. We pulled around to the pump on the other end of the service island and I was immediately dispatched inside to sort out the problem.

In the end, it was all resolved. They had assumed he did not want kerosene, but diesel - so they put his payment onto pump one. We ended up at pump five. They cancelled one sale and booked another.

But back to the problem. The problem was my fault because I didn't question him. "Pay for what?" is not a question? Of course it is. I've been married too many years to question a man who is not hesitant about what  he's doing or where he's going.

For future reference, "the end" is the end of the service island, not beyond.

The Wrong Answer

I stood patiently and tried to keep from rolling my eyes while the unsmiling TSA agent at LaGuardia matter-of-factly informed me of all the places she'd be touching me.

I didn't want to point out that my ticket said "TSA Precheck" which usually means you are exempt from taking your shoes off and being pawed. But for some reason, even though I was TSA Precheck, I was "randomly" selected for further abuse checking.

I'm really not good at hiding my feelings. They show on my face. And when she finished telling me all the places she was going to be touching me, it was really hard for me to contain my enthusiasm. And then she asked me if it was "okay".

Is it okay? Seriously? Of course it's not okay. You want to touch me there, you need to kiss me and buy me dinner. Is it okay??? But I said none of this. I did my best to show great restraint.

What I said instead was "Why don't I just take my pants off?" In all truth, if I took my pants off, she could see that I wasn't hiding anything and she could keep her grubby paws to herself. But that answer got me a good wait in line. Good thing we arrived at the airport early,

She called someone else in and once again I had to listen to the grim details of all the places she was going to touch me. But I also had to listen to her scold me for giving the agent a hard time.

I did not give anyone a hard tine. I've had TSA agents stick their hands down my pants. I'm not excited by the prospect. I don't like it. I will never like it. I find it abusive and disgusting. I told her that. She assured me that her hands would remain outside my clothing and asked if it was okay for her to proceed.

"I guess it will have to be okay because if I don't say it's okay, I'll never get home. And I want to go home."

Then she offered to take me into a private room and paw me there. I'm certainly not going to agree to that. If you're going to paw me, do it out here where everyone can see. Again, things I didn't say. What I did say was "Okay. And no, I don't want a private room."

Fortunately for me, she didn't touch me in all the places she told me she would. I'm happy about that. But I still think there was nothing "random" about the check. I think the agent stepped on a buzzer because she didn't like the look of me for some reason.

How can it be random when the only people ever pulled aside for these checks are typically over 50? Some are too old and infirm to even get their own shoes off. And if they are random, why have I NEVER seen anyone in a burqa get selected? NEVER ONCE.

A Day In Covent Garden

We had a day to kill before heading home so we turned in the car and headed into London. We got a hotel in Covent Garden and walked around the market and the embankment. Mark wanted to eat at Rules. (I didn't really want to because we'd eaten there before and he told me the beef was good, and it wasn't.)  But no need to worry because for reasons I can't fathom, they were booked up until after 10 pm. Mark had made a reservation at a place in Covent Garden. Problem was, we couldn't find it. (We did find it in the morning but the breakfast was a bit over priced for what you got.) So for dinner, we had to make do with an Indian restaurant. I love curry! I was a happy girl.

Anyway, here are some photos taken in and around Covent Garden and the embankment..

Coffee To Go

Freeways are a bit different in the UK. More like a turnpike in the US. Once you get on, it's not especially easy to get off. And if you get off it's almost impossible to get back on. So they have service plazas.

Typically a service plaza consists of a large building that houses several fast food restaurants, coffee shops, convenience stores, and public restrooms. There will also be a service station for gas (or petrol as they call it) and a hotel - usually one of the chain hotels- Days Inn, Premier Inn, or Holiday Inn. As you might expect, the prices for food and drink are higher than anywhere else with the noted exception of the airport.

And also, as you might expect, the service is a bit lackluster. But I didn't expect this...

Mark got in line at the Costa Coffee while I went straight to the ladies room. I had to wait in line for the loo and when I came out, Mark was still in line for coffee, although he was at the front of the line instead of the back. It was a gorgeous day so I said I'd wait outside.

I went outside to walk around and stretch my legs a bit. And a bit more. And a bit more. Lots of people were coming out but not Mark. He had been at the front of the line. What had happened? Just as I was getting ready to go back inside to see, he came out with thunder all over his face.

"What happened?" Something had to have happened for it to take 20 minutes to get a cup of coffee.

So here it is. They kept calling other people to get their coffee. When Mark noticed that people who had been behind him were getting their coffee, he assumed that they had misplaced his order. He mentioned this to the young lady at the counter but was told that the people who were getting their coffee had ordered coffee to be consumed on the premises rather than "to go". She hadn't got his coffee yet because she would have to "go get a to-go cup". Getting this elusive "to-go cup" would have involved this young lady turning around. They were behind her.

I'm not sure what he said to her, but it probably wasn't pretty. But for future reference, she should consider that someone who orders his coffee "to-go" in a paper cup is probably in a bigger hurry than someone who wants to sip leisurely from a ceramic mug. Turn around and get the "to-go"cup!! It's behind you. It's not next door.

Prestwich Clough Day

I'm never sure how to pronouce these words. Clough. Is that clow? cluff? clog? cloe? In this case, it's cluff - rhymes with fluff. Not sure what it means but it was a fun day out. Except for the ill-mannered child in the mumming play who smacked my foot with his cane and then grinned at me and wandered off when I told him not to do it again.

There were rides, demonstrations (falconry and wood carving), lots of bad food choices, Morris dancing (two different styles), musicians, gardening displays and a mumming play.