I arrived home yesterday after slogging through Texas, Oklahoma,
Missouri, and Illinois for several days. (Slog: to plod one’s way
through difficulty). Thankfully, I didn’t have any flat tires or
mechanical problems, but the driving days were long without much time
for exercise or enjoyment of visual beauty.
Texas was interesting for its cotton fields. I had no idea that
there were still places in this country where cotton is grown in fields
as far as one can see. In fact, although I didn’t see any harvesting,
the harvest must have been in progress because there was cotton all over
the shoulders and roadways of the two lane “harvest to market” highways
that I was traveling.
I stayed overnight in Lubbock, Texas at a nondescript RV park, which had this sign posted in each bathroom stall.
On
Thursday, I drove the Tollway/Turnpike to Guthrie, Oklahoma. A bad
accident had occurred in front of the Cedar Valley RV park where I had
made reservations–just before I arrived. Passport America membership
provides 50% off RV park fees, and this park was well-run, clean, and
appreciated. Unfortunately, I’ve run into some really poorly managed rv
parks by Passport America, so it’s unlikely I’ll renew that membership.
On Friday morning, I drove through Oklahoma and into Missouri. I
found myself a day ahead of schedule (hitting myself for not staying
another day in the mountains outside Las Cruces), and stayed overnight
in Joplin, Missouri. My initial plan was to stay for free at the
Downstream Casino, but the electric utility post kept shutting off every
time I plugged in, and I tried three different poles. With temps in
the 20’s at night, I fled to my first KOA and plugged in opsuccessfully,
staying warm with my small electric heater.
On Saturday morning, I killed time by walking with Elvis on the
downtown streets of Joplin, which has beautiful buildings. Sadly, many
of them are empty, and there were quite a few destitute people on the
streets. One woman asked if she could pet Elvis. She ended up hugging
Elvis and breaking down to cry, “I don’t know where my family is.” I
couldn’t help her with that, but she said that her day was already
better, having spent time with Elvis.
My cousin Tim was due to arrive home from his trucking job
mid-afternoon Saturday, so I still had a couple of hours to kill. To my
surprise, the George Washington Carver National Monument is only a
short distance from Tim’s place. Much of what I knew about Carver had
been forgotten, so I appreciated the opportunity to refresh my
recollection.
Carver and his mother were purchased and took on the name of his
master. While Carver was young, he and his mother were stolen from
slave raiders. The young boy was recovered, but his mother was not.
Carver’s father, a slave on another farm, was killed in an accident.
Carver found solace in education. He believed that worldly goods can be
stolen away, but an education belongs to you forever.
I left the monument with a great deal of respect for this man.
That afternoon, Tim and I renewed our long friendship by drinking
mead from a local establishment. I’ve known Tim since I was a young boy
and spent many summers on his family’s Iowa farm, walking soybeans,
making hay, and having a lot of fun when we weren’t working. I spent the
night inside Tim’s house under a warm electric blanket. Elvis seemed
ecstatic to be inside a house and around people again.
On Sunday morning, Tim was heading off with his sons to a Kansas City
Chief’s football game, and I was on the road. I drove to East St.
Louis, where the Passport America selection did not pass muster. I
continued on to East Peoria, arriving just after dark but before 6 p.m.
I had called to make a reservation at this Passport America park, and
the owner assured me that he would either be there or come check me in
when I called. However, when I called, he told me that check-in would
be self-serve. I could set up anywhere . No access to the advertised
wifi, showers, or bathroom, and the site was hard as heck to set up
in. But I made it through a cold night with my little heater.
When I went to drop off my check on Monday morning, a sign indicated
that the office was closed and that he would be in at 9, 10, 11 or
later. I checked for a dropbox to set my check, but couldn’t find
anywhere safe to put it. The owner has my number, and I have a scathing
review to write if he asks for the amenity-based full price. We’ll see
what happens on that one. I doubt I’ll hear from him.
I drove through scattered snow and flurries, making it home by Monday
at noon. Since then, I’ve been enjoying the amenities of home and
doing some home chores. I mowed the lawn yesterday, which was covered
in oak leaves but hadn’t been mowed for two months. The temps are in
the 30’s during the day, and colder at night. I miss the warm
temperatures of the southwest, but it was time to come home. As soon as
I clean the chimneys, I’ll be back to tending the home fires for the
winter.
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