Edmond, Oklahoma

 We got up early this morning; said our goodbyes, and were on the road by 7 a.m.  

We encountered heavy fog in Iowa, along with occasional black ice and temperatures in the mid-teens.  We had decent weather for driving in Missouri, but then had rain changing to snow back and forth through Kansas and Oklahoma. We pulled into a cheap dog-friendly motel in Edmond, Oklahoma, putting in a ten hour, 655 mile day. 

After unloading our gear, we went out for brisket and a local IPA.

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.

Illinois to Arkansas

I’ve made some miles over the last couple of days, moving from the edge of heating season to the edge of cooling season.  On Tuesday, I drove from central Illinois to Cape Girardeau, Missouri. The original plan was to camp at Trail of Tears State Park, north of town.  After driving 13 miles out of the way, I found out that the road to the campground was closed due to flooding of the Mississippi River.  So I jumped on the Campendium app and found Cape Camping and RV park ($36 dollars with 55+ discount).

The showers and bathrooms were nice.  There was a view of some kind of pond or drainage area.  The best part was a city paved path that went for miles and miles. Callie and I hiked until sunset.  We had quite a struggle over all of the bicycles on the path.  Callie does not like to share.  Some of the babies and small children must have looked like sheep to herd, because she wasn’t crazy about those little people either.  In the morning, the path was much quieter, and she managed to let a few bikers by without giving chase.  Small steps.

Today, we drove through rural America.  I set google maps to avoid highways and headed into what my daughter calls hillbilly country.  I passed towns like Possum Knob.  As I drove through, I saw lots of white poverty: people not living well with lots of trash in the yard and homes in need of major repair. I found myself wondering what these people seek in presidential leadership, who they voted for (if they voted) and why.

By late afternoon, I made it to the Downtown Riverside RV park in North Little Rock, Arkansas. I called around 2 p.m. and reserved the last spot in the campground.  There were many beautiful spots along the river.  There were also nice spots across from the riverfront sites.

Because I reserved the last spot, my site was special and away from all of the others.  Nevertheless, I was grateful to get a campsite and it actually provided me with more privacy than any other site.  Plus, the price was right, ($13 with Passport America discount). I’m tucked into the upper right corner of the photograph.

From the rv park, I literally walked across the Clinton Park Bridge to the William Clinton Presidential Library.

From there, Callie and I walked along the river and up through downtown Little Rock and then back across the bridge to the rv park.  There’s still a little daylight at 7:50 p.m; the windows are open in the Scamp; and it’s quite comfortable.

Back to Wisconsin

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.