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The Cruise--Details

I didn't include more details in the prior "The Cruise" post for two reasons. 1)  I didn't think anyone would be interested; and 2)  This trip didn't include much of the normal topics:  good beer, good coffee or John-style travel. But there are details, which may be useful to some people contemplating how such a trip is put together. On the first day of the trip, we drove three hours to pick up my mother in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.  At 85, she isn't comfortable driving for long distances and hadn't flown for many years. We then drove 3 1/2 more hours to Chicago, where we checked into the Wyndham, where you can get a room that includes the cost of parking for up to 12 days.   We were up early on the hotel shuttle to O'Hare, where we then boarded the a non-stop American Airlines flight to New Orleans. Here, we checked into a Hampton Inn near the port.  My mother was pretty tired, so Julia and I went out for a Cajun dinner and live music.   Rememberi...

Babler State Park

During my last night at Caddo Lake State Park, there was a severe thunderstorm.  Not much wind but huge thunder that rattled my rib cage and sent Callie into a panic.  I let her up into my bed for awhile, but she jumped down.  Near as I can tell, she spent the night on top of the dinette table leaning into the window because the table was wet and her back was wet.  My windows don’t leak unless something presses against them during rain, and Callie apparently was leaning hard.

On a short night’s sleep, and continued rain, I decided to drive all day to from Texas across Arkansas and to Cape Girardeau, Missouri.  During the drive, I was listening to tunes via Spotify and feeling good.  Just about that the time that my mood was definitely  taking a turn for the better, a Wal-mart truck kicked up a pebble that deeply divoted my windshield with a horizontal crack from the divot. 


I was ticked, but what can you do?  About five minutes later, I came across a really bad recent two-car wreck on my side of the highway.  Things can always be worse.  Much worse.

In Cape Girardeau, I did my internet research and called around to find a campsite for the weekend.  Apparently, camping in Missouri is very popular in early May; everything was booked up.  There were some possible boondocking spots along the Mississippi River, but they were complicated by flash flooding with more expected rain on Friday night.  Some main roads were closed, and that means more minor roads to boondocking spots were suspect.

On Friday morning, I called a couple of state parks during my drive to see about openings.  Dr. Edmund A. Babler Memorial Park was one of the possibilities.  The woman answering the phone was super nice but they were full for the weekend.  She could try to radio the campground and see if there were any cancellations.  She didn’t call back for a long time, and by then I had crossed the Mississippi River into Illinois.  Then she called with possibly good news.  There was one electric site and one primitive site available, but they were first come, first serve.  She asked if I was feeling lucky.  I thanked her for her efforts, but  I was about an hour away, so I didn’t think I was going to risk it.  Plus, I hated the thought of backtracking.  On the other hand, Babler had great reviews online, and I didn’t have a clue where I was going to stay in my least favorite state–Illinois.

After I hung up, I decided to turn around and run for the Babler.  I turned the hour drive into a 40 minute drive.  As I got off the highway, I called to see if the sites were still available.  She said that as far as she knew, the electric one was, but I should skip the park office and drive directly to the campground and tell the host that I was there for the cancellation site.  When I arrived, the host wasn’t at the campground check-in and didn’t seem to be anywhere near the host trailer.  Breaking with campground etiquette, I knocked hard on the trailer door.  “Is anybody there?”

“No one’s here”, was the answer.  I don’t know if the hosts were saving the spot for friends or what, but they sheepishly emerged and said that the spot was mine since I was the first to arrive and that I could have it for up to four days.  I took three days, set up camp and began some serious relaxation time.


It’s been too wet to hike the trails, but Callie and I have hiked the 3.5 mile semi-paved trail at least a couple of times each day.


The park is named after a surgeon who lived from 1874 to 1930 and reportedly spent much of his time devoted to charity cases and the unfortunate.  He died of pneumonia at 55.

On Saturday morning, the sun broke through.  And the weather looks good for Sunday as well.  Monday morning, I’ll continue north.


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