Thursday, February 9, 2017



It has been awhile since I posted anything. B & I are still traveling and enjoying life--but recently, for several reasons, things have changed. We have always thought that this country was great, possibly greater than any other country in the world. It certainly is unique.  But now it seems to be going through a fake transformation. Our so called government leaders--especially our new so called president--are painting a picture of fear and disaster, with a goal of controlling their own financial pockets. They are doing this by denying facts and by creating doubt in long established institutions. But most importantly they are in position to drastically change a critical branch of our government, the Supreme Court.
Unless we speak up and demand a change in their behavior, we will be, our children will be, and our grandchildren will be screwed.
I am sure that I am not alone in these thoughts.  
The following is a letter that I am sending out to my representatives in Congress expressing my thoughts for constitutional amendment regarding the selection of Supreme Court justices. 


February 7, 2017
“We the people of the United States in order to form a more perfect union” need to demand a change to our Constitution. 
We need to change how justices to the Supreme Court are selected. Because Supreme Court justices serve for life, their selection affects not only our current lives, but also the lives of our children and grandchildren, far into the future. Recent events show how critical the choices are; important enough to cause one man, the Senate majority leader, to deny a sitting president. with ten month's remaining in his term, the right to have his nominee for a vacant Supreme Court seat to be even considered. This act was unconstitutional. The Senate’s constitutional role is to “advise and consent,” not to deny consideration as a politcal tool. All our senators should have been allowed to voice their choice on the nominee--which in turn would have allowed us our voice. What is to prevent a future majority leader to deny consideration of a Supreme Court nominee during the last twelve months of a President’s term.
To prevent this act from happening in the future, a constitutional amendment is needed to specify that when a Supreme Court seat becomes vacant, the President’s nominee shall receive an “advise and consent” vote by the full senate within a specified period of time, without a committee hearing being required.
Another idea for an amendment concerning the  selection of Supreme Court justices would be to put the selection into the hands of the people in a special nation-wide election--just as was done for the selection of U.S. Senators by amendment XVII in 1913.
Nowhere in the constitution does it allow one representative in Congress the right to dictate his or her opinion over the Congress and the people of the United States. The Senate was established as the deliberative body of the Congress; for them not to openly deliberate such an extremely important decision is a violation of their oath of office.

Antonio Tavares

Hebron, New Hampshire

Sunday, June 22, 2014




June 19, 2014: A few days ago B & I visited the Poore Farm. It was quite an experience. In all our years of vacationing and living in NH, we had never heard of the Poore Farm--until a couple of weeks ago. The Poore Farm is located in Stewartstown, just a little north of Colebrook, NH, so we decided to take a couple of days off from the stresses of retirement. We loaded the camper and headed north to see what it was all about.

We set out on Tuesday morning for Colebrook in our camper. It was a great day for driving, which was a good thing because I drove about 50 miles more than I had planned on. I didn't take the US-3 exit off I-93 in Franconia, thinking that there was another exit for US-3 a little further north--there wasn't. We drove into Vermont and then exited onto US 2 East. This took us back to NH and into Lancaster, where we picked up US 3. Our little detour provided some great New England scenery.

We reached Colebrook and, after a little delay caused by poor phone service and a missing sign--this caused us to drive over the hump of Dixville Notch and to the town of Errol, before reversing direction back to Colebrook. we finally reached the Notch View Inn and Campground. It was almost 3:00 PM. We got a very nice site with a fantastic view of the mountains to the south and east of Colebrook.

The campground is close to the center of Colebrook and it has about thirty or forty sites, all with full hookup--and with plenty of space between sites.


The following morning, under heavy overcast skies, we drove out of camp, into Colebrook and US-3, to look for NH route 145. Between keeping an eye on the heavy traffic and looking at the various storefronts on Main Street, we missed the turn that would have put us on NH-145. Another scenic detour resulted as we continued north on US-3 up to the border with Canada before realizing we had to turn around--again.

We turned onto NH-145, which is located just at the northern end of the business district of Colebrook. This was another great scenic drive on a narrow, winding two-lane road through old farm sites and woodland. There was a large waterfall visible from the road, called Beaver Brook Falls, it also had a nice looking picnic area.

We reached the Poore Farm Museum at 11:15 and we were happy to see the open sign out on the edge of the road. The museum is only open from 11:00 to  1:00 during the week and it is a volunteer dependent organization. We turned into the short, narrow, grassy driveway. I kept an eye on the low-hanging tree branches that hung over the driveway, hoping they wouldn't come in contact with the stuff located on the roof of the camper. There was no "parking area," so I stopped near the end of the driveway. An information booth nearby was open, but not occupied, and there were two cars parked next to it. 


A young woman came down from the path into the farm area to greet us. She was one of the volunteers on site. She took us into the farmhouse first. The farmhouse was built in 1826 and looked it. The siding is grey, weathered and worn. At the corner of the house, near the porch and kitchen door, was a large of patch of yellow irises, which made a nice contrast. 

We entered through the kitchen door, after being warned to watch our step crossing the well-worn porch, and we were surprised to see a large amount of "stuff" inside the small kitchen. Our guide told us that the Poore family saved everything--and everything in the house, and barns, was there when the museum opened in 1994. The Poore family lived and worked the farm from 1832 to 1983, when the last Poore to live here died at the age of 98. The guide told us that the house did not have electricity or modern plumbing during all the time the Poore's lived here.   

The house has several small rooms, all filled with an amazing collection: clothing, wood stoves, calendars (the oldest going back to 1894), military gear from WWI, cereal boxes. utensils, and pieces of string.  

Next, we went into the barn, also very old and very full of stuff. On the wall, just inside the entrance of the second level of the barn--reached by a steep inclined grass ramp and a cleated wooden "bridge"--was an interesting collection of family documents and certificates. Inside, on the main floor, the collections of farm equipment, tools, old clothing, old patent medicine packages, a preserved cut-off finger in a glass jar--which has a story--and a large weaving loom, which was used to make the rug located in the living room of the house. Up on the third level of the barn, more items, such a old flour and grain bags, a large home-made bandsaw, transcripts of civil war letters, and toys, home-made and purchased.

Outside, B stopped to talk to another volunteer who was working in a garden area. She was thinning out the flower beds. B ended up with some of the plants to take with us.

On the way out, we stopped at the information booth to fill out the visitor's log and to leave a donation. On a shelf with tourist brochures, I saw an item that, at first, I thought was just decorative; it was actually a birds nest with three baby birds in it. The parents, Phoebes, were in the tree next to the booth. Obviously, the birds are not disturbed by tourist--or there are not enough tourist to disturb the birds.

The entire place is very picturesque, interesting and worth the effort to visit. It gave us an appreciation of what it must have been like living in the north country during the 19th and early 20th century. You can read more about the Poore Farm on their website: www.poorefarm.org

Another interesting place to visit in Colebrook is the Hick's Hardware Store on Main Street. They have just about anything you could possibly want for home or garden. They even had grandfather clocks. I saw items in their tool and hardware section that I don't recall ever seeing in either Home Depot or Lowes.
I kind of wish they were located a little closer to home; I certainly would be in there all the time. I almost forgot to mention, they were very helpful trying to find something I was looking for--they had the item, but not with the feature I wanted. B managed to leave the store with several items that she had been looking for. 

We drove home the next day without any detours and with sunshine all the way.   

Monday, March 10, 2014

March 10, 2014: We have now been home for a week; everything has been put away and we are thinking about where and when for the next trip--which most likely will be in warmer weather.

To wrap up this first trip in the camper, a winter trip; on Feb. 27, we left the North Fork Resort--and I use the term resort only because it is part of their name--thankful that we did not book more than one night. It was an extremely crowded campground with a railroad track running through the middle of it. We were upset because of the lack of communication: they didn't mention that the water was off at the sites when we called to book a site, they didn't mention that the water was off at the bathhouse when we checked in, and they didn't tell us that the water was back on in the bathhouse on the morning we checked out. We enjoyed the brief visit to Front Royal and would recommend it to anyone visiting that area--but do not include North Fork Resort. 

Last night I called campground, Pinch Pond Family Campground, in Manheim, PA, to book a site for tonight. I had to leave a message on their voicemail. This morning, they called back and we reserved a site--with water--for tonight.

The distance between North Fork and Pinch Pond was, according to Google, 168  miles and two and a half hours away. When I spoke to the Pinch Pond office in the morning, they said they closed at 4:00; I said I expected to be there around 2:00. But, because I asked OnStar not to include any interstate highways on the route, it actually took us 189 miles and seven hours. We arrived at 5:00. The woman I spoke to this morning, and again at 3:00 when I called from the road to say I now expected be there at 4:00, waited until we arrived to check us in.

The reason for the extra time had to be because we went through some very scenic byways and through every crowded business district of every small and medium size town, with traffic lights at every intersection--the lights always changed to red as we approached.

The site had water, as promised, but the camp requested that we disconnect our water hose at night; they expected the temperature to go down to single digits. The shutoff valve for water supply pipe was below ground and, in order for the water to drain out of the exposed pipe above ground, the hose had to be off the spigot. 

We settled in for the night: We had supper, I took a shower, I disconnected the water hose, we watched some TV--the cable hook-up provided a huge number of channels--then went to bed.

It was Friday morning, the last day of Feburary, the temperature was at 5°. When I reconnected the hose to the faucet, the water would not flow into the camper; the hose connection on the side of the camper had frozen. B couldn't take her shower in the camper, so she decided to go to the campground's bathhouse for her shower. We also decided not stay any additional nights in the campground, instead we would head home. The forecast was for more extreme cold temperatures.

While B went to take her shower, I got the camper ready to leave. It was so cold that the sewer hose was frozen. I had to use a hammer to loosen the connector where the hose attached to the camper.   The hose then broke open when I tried to straighten it out to put it back into the storage tube. The hose ended up in the dumpster.

By now B was returning from her shower. She said the bathhouse showers were closed but a woman in the office directed her to some showers located in the laundry building. That was a good thing--B would not have been happy if she had to go two days without a shower--she did that when we used to go backpacking and didn't want to do that any more.

We left the campground and headed north, this time on an interstate highway, I-81, north to Binghamton, NY, and then towards Albany on I-88. We spent the night at a Holiday Inn in Oneonta, NY. We had a nice snack and drinks while sitting at the bar--we were the only ones in the bar--while watching BBC America on the TV and talking to the bartender, a young man, who was hooked on watching Top Gear, a BBC show about British cars.

The next morning we continued on through Albany, through Vermont, and finally, into NH. We arrived home at 3:30. The ride from Bristol, around Newfound Lake, and home, was an quite a ride. Neither one of us recall the frost heaves being this bad in previous years--of course, we didn't have a 3000 pound camper behind us in previous years.

Our driveway was plowed, but we had a mound of snow blocking access to our walkway, and the walkway and front deck had about two feet of snow. We broke our way through this and got into the house; the heat was on, I turned on the water pump to refill our water pipes while I brought in some of our gear from the camper. Once the pipes were filled, I was pleased to see that there were no leaks. Even the plants survived the cold temps while we were away. 

We were glad to be home, but also a little sorry that the trip was over.




Wednesday, February 26, 2014

On Tuesday, Feb. 25, we went to one of our favorite places: Monticello. When we arrived there were a few snowflakes in the air and the air was cool. It was a good time to visit the historic home of Thomas Jefferson; very few visitors, only a few children--there were a couple of small class-size groups of 4th or 5th graders--and the leafless trees allow a better view of the surrounding countryside. We were there for over five hours.

We purchased tickets for a "behind the scenes" tour. On our previous visits, the only option was a house tour which covered only the first floor, and then, it was not all the rooms. The tour we took today covered the first, second, third, and the dome room. We had basically a private tour, since there were only two other people going through with us.

The tour started in the entry hall, as usual, but now the hall looks more like it did when Jefferson displayed Native American artifacts sent back by the Lewis and Clark Expedition. The items on display are not the originals--they have been lost--but they were the same items, made by the same tribes, and in the traditional manner, using only the type of materials that would have been available back in the early 1800's.

We went next into Jefferson's library, study, and bed chamber. With only four people in the group, we were able to get a good look at the items and books. And we all got to see Jefferson's privy located in a small closet behind a door in the bed chamber. It was surprisingly well lighted in the small space--only one person at a time could enter to look at the privy hole--because of the skylight up on the roof. The privy, although small space, was tall; its height ran from the roof to the cellar.

The dining room, sitting room, tea room, also on the first floor, are full of paintings and busts of notable contemporaries of Jefferson and of scientist that he admired. These rooms are set up as he had them, based on a written description that one of his granddaughter's wrote before Jefferson died. These rooms also have devices, or gadgets, that allowed food and wine to be delivered to him and his quests without the need for more than one "servant."
We then went up to the second floor using one of the only two staircases in the house. These went up very steeply and wound around within an approximately six-foot area. The second floor was once used as office space for the Foundation's staff; but recently, all the office spaces and equipment have been set up elsewhere. The rooms have been setup to show their original use: bedrooms for family and quests. Jefferson's daughters lived here most of the time even after they were married. Guests would show up--sometimes, unannounced--and stay for two or three months. Some of the rooms still have their original small cast iron wood stoves which was the only heat for the second floor.

Up on the third floor, were the rooms where the grandchildren stayed. Eleven grandchildren were in the house at one time. It is also where the dome room is located. This is a large room, octagon shaped, with domed ceiling. The room was never used for any functions--it was built by Jefferson because he liked octagon shaped rooms and domed ceilings. When we were in it, our guide's voice, when she spoke about the room echoed because of the dome. She said that one of Jefferson's grandson's brought his bride to Monticello and stayed in the dome room; interesting.

The rooms on the third floor, except for the dome room, had no windows, only skylights; they did not have any stoves or fireplaces for heat. They were hot in summer and cold in winter--good enough for the grandkids.
We went back down the second stairwell, all the way to the cellar passage. Here we got a look at the storage areas used for wine, beer, and ice. At the south end of the passage, under the south wing of the dependencies, is the kitchen, with many of the same types of cookware that he brought back from France.

The guided tour ended at 1:00. We returned to the site's visitors center and had lunch. We then spent another three hours viewing the center's exhibits and films. We finished with the traditional passage through the gift shop, where we bought some more books and a bottle of Madeira wine especially bottled for the Jefferson Foundation; this bottle will be our new "anniversary toast" wine--the previous two bottle of old Madeira, purchased some years ago in Madeira, have been long gone.

We tried to do one more thing today. While we were eating lunch, one of the girls working there overheard us talking about the fact that Monticello was not damaged be either side during the Civil War; she told us about a cavern where graffiti left by both sides during the Civil War has been preserved. She said that there are two items that were written on the same day, one by by an officer from the North and the other by an officer from the South. We started out to find the caverns, located in the town of Grottoes. The ride took us up into the mountains, past Skyline Drive, about twenty miles. I had to stop for gas. It was 4:30. While I filled the tank, B called the caverns to find out when they closed; they told her, right now at 4:30. We returned down the mountain--quite a ride--and to our campground. However, the ride was not a total loss; the scenery was outstanding.

We left Greenwood, VA, this morning, and headed north. Again we travelled on the older U.S. routes: US-29, US-522, with a section of VA-231. Once we were through Charlottlesville, the ride and scenery were fantastic. The road, for the most part, was two lanes; it undulated and wound between long four-rail fences and hilly pastures. Off to our left, we had some great views of the Appalachian Mountains. It was the type of ride that made me wish that I had a camera mounted on the dash to capture the images as we went along. This would be for a selfish reason: the road was so narrow, and either sloped down from the edge of the pavement into a ditch, or into a stream, or into woods, that I could only catch a glimpse of the scene as I approached it at a curve. B said it was all gorgeous. One section that we travelled through still had some snow covering the fields from a morning flurry that made the view even better. 

We arrived in Front Royal around noon. We stopped to do laundry and lunch. The lunch was in a local restaurant set in an old two hundred year old building that was the local feed and grain supplier. The food and setting were both very good. 

We ended the day in a "campground?" that, while it is not the worst one of the eighteen that we have stayed in, it is right down next to the bottom. We are paying the same rate charged during the summer months to use the facilities of this "resort," but there is no water at the site--which we can understand because of the temperatures--but they did not advise us of that fact when we called early this morning to get a site. They also didn't mention that the water is off in the bathrooms and showers, when we checked in. Fortunately, it is only for one night.





Monday, February 24, 2014

Feb. 24, 2014: It has been awhile but I will try to fill in from where I left off in my last entry: On Feb. 13th, the day we were originally going to leave St. James Island, we extended our stay  for one day because of the ice storm that hit Charleston. As a result, we took the time to go to get our clothes washed at a nearby coin laundry. We also got to experience a great lunch at a small Greek restaurant located next to the laundry.

It was 2:30 when we went into the Odyssey; no one else was in the restaurant. It was small and very clean The food that we had was great. I had a cup of Greek lemon chicken soup that was delicious; it looked like a dessert. After the meal, we talked to the owner; he had also taken our orders and served the food to us. He told us that he has been at this location for about a year. He makes his own flat bread and pastries. We ordered two pieces of baklava to take with us--and the cakes that he had in the case were tempting, but we contained ourselves. We took what we couldn't eat of our meals with us, including the bread, and the baklava. This was one of those nice unexpected and unplanned experiences of this trip.

Back at our campsite, I called Huntington Beach State Park, but learned that all their sites were taken for the dates that we wanted. I found a campground, Lanier's, a little further north,in Surf City, just beyond Wilmington, NC. We decided to stay there for three nights and then move on to Richmond. I also called a campground, Americamps RV,  just north of Richmond and reserved a site for seven days.

We left St. James on Friday, the 14th, and drove to Lanier's. It was a 212 mile trip. We arrived after the office and the gate to the park had closed.  I had to call a number listed on the gatehouse to get the code to open the gate and the woman that answered directed me to a site while we were on the phone. The site was on the intracoastal waterway. There was a small marsh between the site and waterway. The site had a cement pad that at least gave us a dry, level site. The sites in this campground were very close. Many of the units set up around the campground appeared to be here semi-permanently; and, for quite awhile, with many of the campers having wooden, screened enclosures attached to them. There were few trees along the waterfront area. The next morning, when I checked in at the office, I asked about the sites under the trees at the back side of the park. I was told that those sites were very wet. We stayed on the cement pad for the next two days. 

For the first full day here, we had to stay inside the camper for most of the day because of the rain and wind. The wind was strong enough to shake the camper; at times it felt like the mild turbulence experienced during an airplane flight. I did notice that, at high tide, the water came up through the marsh, up to the edge of the site that we were on. 

On our second full day, we drove out to the barrier island on the opposite side of the waterway from our camp. This was Topsail Island, twenty-six miles long and about two miles across. We drove from one end to the other. It was difficult to see the ocean from the roadway because of the tall houses, shops and motels built along the beachfront. The houses on the beach were built on pressure-treated wood piers and they went up two or three stories above that; some of the houses even had decks built on their roofs. The space between houses was almost non-existant. There were a few public access points to the beach. We stopped at one to go out to the beach. We saw a long, flat, hard-packed, white sand beach stretching out along the island, in two directions, with only a very few people out walking on the beach. We are sure that this is not the case during the summer months. Our drive around the island showed very few places without a building or house on it. The north end of the island had many very large and very expensive looking houses. We stopped for lunch at a beach front seafood restaurant--also built on stilts--where we had a forgettable meal; it was like something we would expect from the old Howard Johnson restaurants. We decided that this was one area of the coast that we did not want to live in.

We left this area the following morning, Monday, Feb. 17, to drive to Richmond.  Again, we tried to avoid driving on any interstates. We travelled on some U.S. numbered highways that had little traffic and that were recently paved. We stopped for lunch at a western style restaurant on one of these roads. It was called the Hitch-N-Post. This was another forgettable experience. The waitresses, all young, were not the least bit interested in doing their jobs, or in the customers. 

We found that the highway we were on, at one place, was closed and we had to detour. Because of this, we ended up on I-95. This was not relaxing or smooth; the roadway, near the Virginia state line, was rough. Crossing one bridge, the road surface was a series of waves that caused the truck to start bouncing up and down dangerously. Also, at the Virginia state line, we began to see snow piles in parking lots and snow in shaded ditches. After a drive of 327 miles, we arrived at the campground, Americamps RV, in Ashland, VA.

On our first night in the campground, we experienced a little wintry mix overnight that left a dusting of white stuff on the ground; it soon went away when the sun came up. We spent most of the day doing our usual housekeeping chores in the camper and used the campground laundry. Later, in the afternoon, we walked over to a micro-brewery located next to the campground. The brew house was open from 4:00 PM to 9:00 PM for beer tasting. We went over at 4:15. We sat at the bar and we each had a flight of five different beers to try. They produce six different beers, but only five were available the day we were there. B liked one of the lighter beers so much that she ordered a growler full to go--she intended to take this back to NH, but we ended up drinking it over the next couple of days. I had an additional glass of their Scotch ale that was dark and full-bodied. 

Two men came in shortly after us and sat near us. We heard one of them mention something about the Confederate sub, H. L. Hunley. We mentioned that we had been to see it recently. The man then said he was a funeral director, and that when he was doing his apprenticeship, he had to go to Charleston, to bring Lt. Dixon's remains to Richmond where they lay-in-state in the State Capitol. I happen to have on the H. L. Hunley cap as we talked. It was 150 years ago, yesterday, Feb. 17, that the Hunley sank with the loss of its eight crew members. This was one of those memorable experiences of this trip;  a random conversation with some one who had a direct involvement with the story of the H. L. Hunley.

We left the brew house at 6:15. Outside, at the sidewalk, a food vending truck was parked, open for business. It had "Tony's Grill" written large across the top. We stopped to talk to the man inside the back of the truck. His name was Tony and he told us that this mobile grill was his "Plan B" for paying the bills. Both he and his wife had worked for the same company when they got laid off; she went back to work for the company, but he now works elsewhere during the day. He decided to put together this truck and cooking equipment as a means of gaining some independence. He told us what he had to do to meet regulations, and how he selected the equipment in the truck to meet his business plan--which had to be approved by the regulators. This was another interesting conversation that we have had as a result of a chance encounter. We also ordered some of his food to take back to the camper, a cheeseburger and a steak and cheese quesadilla. This was the main reason that the growler of beer was broken into when we got back in the camper.

The next morning, Feb. 19, we went to the "rally room" in the campground's office building to try out their free waffle breakfast. The waffles were made fresh, and we could have juice, coffee, and fruit cups, along with various syrups. This is served every day between 8:15 and 9:30. We sat with the only other couple that had come in for breakfast. Again, another interesting conversation. They were full-time RV'ers. They live here in a 5th-wheeler and have a smaller van type RV for trips. They also have a music studio where they teach music. They also did missionary work in Paraguay at one time; the man said he had been a minister.

We drove to Richmond after breakfast to visit the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. The guide book said they were noted for their FabergĂ© egg collection. When we entered the museum, B went to the ladies room, while I spoke to the guard near the entrance about the parking on the street with my truck and camper. In the conversation, he mentioned that the FabergĂ© collection was not on display; it is on a world tour for the next year. This was the one thing that B was most interested in seeing. Needless to say, she was very disappointed to learn this when she returned. However, we did spend the next couple of hours looking at what was left on display: painting by the old European Masters, glass work by Chihuly, Arts and Crafts furniture, Art Deco and Art Nouveau furniture and jewelry--several pieces of furniture by my favorite Scottish designer and architect, Charles Rennie Mackintosh--and listening to a black woman singing spirituals to a group of people in one of the rooms. We had a great lunch in the museum's sit-down dining room on the third floor. Along with the good food, we had some interesting conversations going on around us and some interesting-looking people sitting nearby.

We also visited the Confederate Memorial Chapel, located near the museum. The chapel was built in 1889 to commemorate the 260,000 Confederates soldiers who died during the Civil War. The museum and chapel were built on the site of a former Confederate Veterans Home. A male docent inside the chapel told us a story of how the term "damned Yankee" came to be. According to him, it was because most Southerners believed that it was necessary to believe in the Trinity in order to gain a place in heaven, and they believed that most Northerners--or Yankees--were "damned," not going to go to heaven, because they were Unitarians. My feeling is that his story was just a good excuse to say "damned Yankees" to us when he found out that we were Northerners.  

Another impressive thing that we saw in Richmond today was Monument Avenue. Here, along a center strip, there are several giant monuments to Confederate leaders; Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, "Stonewall" Jackson, J.E.B. Stuart. These monuments were erected in the late 1890's. The street is also lined with monumental-looking, expensive homes. 

On Thursday, Feb. 29, I decided to get the truck some needed scheduled maintenance, an oil change and tire rotation, while we were in the Richmond area, and before we moved further north. I called three Chevrolet dealers: for the first dealer, the service department didn't answer their phone and didn't return my voice message; for the second dealer, the service department didn't answer their phone and I wasn't able to leave a voice message; for the third dealer, the service department did answer and they asked a few questions about the truck and camper--I wanted to get the servicing done with the camper in place on the truck. I was put on hold while they deliberated the request. When they returned to the phone, their answer was that they couldn't do the servicing. I decided to contact businesses that service trucks. I located one, using a phone app, called Northern Motors. It was close to the campground and they said they could do the job today, at 3:30. We went there a little early, just to find out where they were actually located. The garage was large and the lot next to it was full of FedEx trucks and  trailer trucks. They took our truck and camper in at 3:15 and in a short time we could see our truck and camper going up on a lift. An hour later, it was ready for us to drive out of their garage. While they were working on it, we got to talk to man in the office who was ether the owner, or a part owner, of this facility. He told us that they work two shifts from 6:00 AM to 11:30 PM. He also said he thought we made a good choice going with a Chevy truck and getting a gas engine instead of a diesel. After he explained why, we were glad we got the gas engine too. Inside their garage area, when we walked through it to get our truck, I saw the largest tow truck that I have ever seen; it was a PeterBuilt cab and the rear section was mounted on three dual-wheeled axels--the whole rig had to be over thirty feet long.

When we left the garage, we went to the Bass Pro Shop. It was located just across from the campground, on the other side of I-95, near Northern Motors. This was a very large building and we spent about an hour and a half looking and buying, then returned to our campsite around 6:00 PM. We only put about nine miles on the truck today, but contributed a decent amount of money into the economy.

The following day, we went back to Richmond to visit the National Battlefield Park Civil War Visitor Center, located in Tredegar Park, along the James River.
This is run by the National Park Service and it is located in an old three-story brick building that was once part of the Tredegar Iron Works. When we entered the building at 11:30, we learned from the woman who greeted us at the front desk that the Richmond area was under a tornado watch this morning. It was cloudy outside, but it was not even raining when we entered. We went up to the third floor to watch a film. While we were watching it, we could suddenly hear the wind howling against the roof above us and the rain coming down hard. We decided to go down to the first floor--just in case. Outside, the sky was black. The doors to the building were blowing open and wouldn't stay closed until one of the park rangers locked them. I looked out the window to where our truck, and camper, were parked to make sure it was still upright. It was. And that the trees next to the truck were still standing. They were. Later, on the evening news, several homes in the area were shown with trees that had smashed into their roofs. The storm passed by quickly, without any tornado. 

We returned to the third floor, watched the film, and viewed the exhibits on the third and second floor. The Tredegar Iron Works was the largest producer of cannon and steel plates for the Confederacy during most of the Civil War. The facility began operating in 1837 and continued up to 1952; it produced artillery shells during WWI and WWII. The Iron Works escaped the fires that destroyed a large part of Richmond during the Confederate evacuation in 1865. 

We visited a second museum, The American Civil War Center, privately owned, that was also on the site. This one gave three different views of  the Civil War: The Southerner's, The Northerner's, and the slave's. It used interactive displays that visitors could use to express their opinions by voting, in some cases, or by writing them on Postit notes.

We left the Iron Works at 2:30 to go find a restaurant. One of the women at the Civil War Center told us how to get to an area of old tobacco warehouses that had a large number of restaurants. We ate at a place called "The Hard Shell Sea Food," where we were the only customers. We sat at the bar and had two great meals; B had oysters--served on their shells--which she said were the best she had had since New Orleans, I had calamari with two different spicy sauces. The waitress we learned was originally from Laconia, NH. 

Saturday, Feb. 22, turned out to be such a nice, warm, sunny day that we decided to go to Ashland, just north of the campground. I needed a haircut, so the first stop was at a barber shop. This barber gave an "old fashion" type of haircut; no rake on the clippers and no shaving the neck with a electric razor--he used a comb and electric clippers to cut the hair to length and a straight razor to clean the neck, followed by a bay rum rub. From here, we drove around the town to check it out. We found that the Amtrac rails ran up the middle of the one of the main streets, and we found that there was a small college located in the town. Since there was not much else of interest to us, we decided to drive back down into Richmond to visit a Nature Center located in a park along the James River. When we found it, their parking lot was so crowded and tight that we didn't enter. We drove over to the Virginia Historical Society, located next to the Fine Arts Museum. When we entered the building, we learned that the exhibits were closed because they were renovating the building--only the gift and book shop was open. Again, it was around 2:30, we asked the girls at the desk about restaurants. They told us about some located nearby, within walking distance. We left the truck in their parking lot and walked to the area they told us about. We found a small Italian place, Arianna's. We ordered a pizza--very good tasting, with a thin crust the way we like it--with some wine--also very good tasting, especially the chianti that I had. Our waitress, who looked like what we imagined Arianna should look like, said that she didn't own the place and had worked here only a short time. We had pizza left over to take with us. When we got back to the parking lot, I went back into the VHS building and bought a book, on sale, about Lee and Grant. I also told the girls that with ate at Arianna's. They said that they have the best pizza.

Sunday, was a day to just relax. I did make a call to a campground out near Charlottesville to find out if they had spaces available for tomorrow and maybe a couple of days beyond that. The woman said they plenty of spaces available and no reservations were needed. We will see.

Today, Monday, Feb. 24, we are in that campground: The Misty Mountain Campground Resort, in Greenwood, VA. They did have a large number of spaces available. We have a nice site next to a fast moving creek. A motorhome pulled in right behind us into the campground, and into the site right next to us; it has NH plates. It is a couple from Colebrook and they are just starting out on their three month adventure.  







Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Feb. 12, 2014:  Once again, the south is experiencing a winter storm. Right now, where we are, on St. James Island Campground, it is raining hard and steady. A short distance away, in Charleston, it looks like there is ice this morning, rain this afternoon, then the possibility of more ice tomorrow morning. Further inland, the winter warnings are for snow. In Richmond, VA, eight to twelve inches of snow is being predicted. For New England that is a decent amount of snow, but down here, eight to twelve is a disastrous amount. Last night, the local news stations were showing road crews with their trucks ready with sand in the back and plows on the front. The plows looked like they just came out the box; the paint was bright, not a scratch anywhere, and no rust. The real big problem here are the bridges, there are many of them, and most of them rise high above the water, so any amount of ice is a major traffic concern that leads to bridge closings.

We are scheduled to leave this campground tomorrow morning, but I will see about extending our stay one more night--as soon as the rain lets up and I can get over to the campground office.

My last entry on Feb. 8th, said we were leaving Skidaway Island and heading a little bit north towards Charleston to once again visit the site where the Confederate submarine, H. L. Hunley, is now undergoing a conservation process--only this time while they are open to visitors-- and then to the campground on St. James Island.

The visit to the H. L. Hunley was very interesting. I had read the book,Raising the Hunley, by Brian Hicks and Schuyler Kropf, which tells the story of how the submarine was located in 1995 and raised from its grave site in 2000, but it also tells the history of the submarine. One of the unbelievable parts of the story was that the Hunley sank twice during operational trial runs in Charleston harbor, with the loss of its crew each time; yet, Lt. Dixon, who believed that he would be able to  operate the submarine properly, was able to get seven men--one of which was married with four children-- to volunteer to go out of the harbor in the submarine with him and attack a Union blockade ship, the USS Housatonic. Lt. Dixon was successful in getting out to the Hosatanic, sinking it, and then start back towards Charleston. The Hunley became the first submarine to successfully sink an enemy ship in combat. The last signal received from the Hunley, by spotters on land, was a blue light, a pre-arranged signal to light bonfires on shore to help guide it back into harbor. The sub was never seen again--until 1995--a period of almost 150 years; it sank on Feb. 17, 1864. 

The sub was raised, brought to the Lasch Conservation Center, and placed in a large tank, built to hold the remains of the sub, while naval archeologists and scientist work on preserving it. Inside the sub, they found the remains of the eight crewmen, still at their assigned positions, there did not appear to be any attempt to escape through the two hatches. Items that the crew carried into the sub with them were still with them--even pieces of clothing and shoes were found. The remains were buried in April, 2004, along side the graves of the two previous crews that lost their lives on the Hunley
More interesting details and photographs about the submarine's history, recovery, and preservation can be seen on the Friends of Hunley website: www.hunley.org.

The campground at St. James Island is operated by the St. James County and is located inside of a county park. The park is a heavily used facility, even at this time of the year. When we arrived here, we passed by an area, next to a large pond, set aside for dogs and their owners where one, or the other, could run around free without being attached to a leash. It was a nice sunny Sunday afternoon and the area was full. The park also has a water park, boat rentals, playgrounds, and walking/jogging paths. The campsites are not crowded together, and they have trees and shrubs between them, for privacy, which we enjoy having. Again, there are quite a few large motor homes and we are the only truck camper.

Also, during our stay here, B and I finally realized the we are now, by definition, "red-necks"--our home is on wheels and some of it is being held together with duct tape. (the latch on our medicine cabinet popped out its retaining slot and it is now being held in place with duct tape)
  

Monday, February 10, 2014

Feb. 10, 2014: I have just added a second album of photographs taken on this trip to my FaceBook page. If you are interested in seeing them, you can do so by copying the links below into your browser:

Link for B&T Winter Tour Album #1 w/46 photos:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.646244552102963.1073741830.100001522720221&type=1&l=558941f757




Link for B&T Winter Tour Album #2 w/78 photos:

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.653602571367161.1073741831.100001522720221&type=1&l=53e3d4f9c1