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.   

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.

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.

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 Fabergé 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 Fabergé 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.  

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)
  

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

Feb. 8, 2014: We are still in Georgia, but moving north at a very slow, reluctant pace. Watching the weather news from up north is daunting. We are not having the best of weather--everyone living here says it is the worst they have experienced in many years--but it is nowhere near what it is back home. 

Since our last entry, we have moved from Jekyll Island to Skidaway Island, just outside of Savannah. In the next blog entry, we will be on yet another island, St James, outside of Charleston, SC.

The last few days that we spent on Jekyll were fairly good. We had some very warm weather. We got to see the movie "Captain Phillips" which was as good as the book. The movie was part of the campground's activities provided for campers and shown in a large tent. During the showing, a light rain fell outside, cooling down the tent and all of us sitting inside. Everyone was shivering during much of the movie, but no one left.

The following day, Superbowl Sunday, was a good day also; B got to watch Peyton Manning get beat--she really didn't care which team won the game, as long as it wasn't Manning's.

Earlier, on Sunday, we walked out to the driftwood beach area for one last visit. It was sunny and mild at the campsite, but at the beach there was an ocean fog and it was an extremely low tide. The effect this made on the dead trees was amazing. Some of the trees that we had previously seen lying at the water's edge were now fully exposed and trees not visible before because they were under water could now be seen. Most of these were just blackened curved shapes, encrusted with barnacles and small shells, lying in the sand. At the water's edge, B found two live conchs. These are the first ones we have ever seen. She kept them because she wanted to try cooking them.
When we returned to the camper, she went online and got the information she needed: one video showed how to kill the conch and extract the animal; in another, a chef showed how to trim the meat. B decided to kill the animals by boiling, then she was able to extract the animal. However, the amount of usable meat was so small she did not do the final cooking. It is said that conch is delicious, so we will have to take "their" word for it.

On Monday morning we left Jekyll Island and drove to Skidaway Island State Park campground. This one was very different than Jekyll: the campsites are well separated, with trees between the sites, for privacy. It appears to be a very new campground; everything is neat, clean, level, and not rusted, even the TV cable worked.

The next morning, we walked out on one of the campground trails that went out into the marsh. We were very surprised not to see any wading birds in the marsh. The only water bird we saw was what may have been an Anhinga. We did see red-bellied woodpeckers, cardinals, and warblers in the wooded area of the trail. The wooded area also contained the remains of Confederate earthworks raised for the defense of Savannah from attack from the sea. However, they never saw any action, since Sherman marched to Savannah from the west. 

Wednesday, we drove off Skidaway to do some laundry and to eat at a nice restaurant. By the luck of the draw, from a list online, the laundry turned out to be one of the largest, cleanest, newest and best equiped laundry we have ever seen on any of our road trips, current and past. It had, besides huge washers and dryers, five large flat-screen TVs on the walls. And it had helpful attendants, as well as working bill changers. The coins were not absolutely needed because you could also use a credit card on the machines. 

While we were doing laundry, there was a torrential downpour that looked like it was never going to stop. When we were ready to leave the laundry, the rain nicely stopped. We were able to get to our camper without getting soaked. From here, we drove to Bubba's Seafood and Oyster House. This is a place run by Paula Deen's brother. A man at Jekyll Island campground had told us that it was very good. Well, you can never trust another man's judgement. We had two meals that were ok, but not what we considered very good. B had oysters and shrimp; the oysters were not in the shell. Then on the way out, she saw a sign saying, "today's oysters are from Texas." She found that really odd since Georgia is known for its oysters. We left here somewhat disappointed. The one good thing while we were eating was the skies cleared, the sun was strong and the temperature went up.

We drove out to Tybee Island. This had been one of the places I looked at with a campground. The island was built up with hotels and houses that blocked any view of the beach and ocean. An extremely crowded and commercial tourist area. We also looked at the campground we had considered; it was also extremely crowded, with little space between the campers--worst than Jekyll Island. It was also located in a residential area. Glad we didn't come here to camp.

On the road back, just off Tybee, we stopped to visit Fort Pulaski National Monument, out of curiosity, since this site was not familiar to me. This turned out to be a good stop. We learned that the fort, built in 1822, was where it was proven that a brick and masonry fort could be breached by cannon fire. Rifled cannons, fired from Union positions on Tybee Island, more than a mile away, were able to breach the seven and a half foot thick walls of the fort in April, 1862, causing the Confederate commander to surrender. The results here changed military thinking about the value of fixed defensive positions.

When we were ready to leave Fort Pulaski, I contacted OnStar to get directions back to our campground. When the operator asked what our destination was, I realized that I had been to too many island campgrounds, I couldn't remember which island we were camping on. We finally got that squared away and we were soon back at our site. 

The Skidaway campground has an interpretive center housing an interesting exhibit. The centerpiece is a skeleton of a Giant Ground Sloth. This animal is twenty feet tall, twent-five long and weighted an estimated 6000 pounds. The bones of this extinct animal were discovered on this island in 1822. The original bones found here are now at the Smithsonian. The skeleton displayed here is a replica of a nearly complete skeleton of the animal found in Daytona Beach, Florida. 

Yesterday, we left the campground again. First stop, B had her hair cut at a nearby hairdresser on the island that was selected from an online search. The hairdresser, B learned, was from Maine, and the receptionist had the same first name as our daughter. I waited for her in a nearby cafe. After some grocery shopping in a nice market--this little plaza was in a "high-rent" neighborhood of the island; actually, the whole island outside of the state park is a "high-rent" neighborhood--we drove out to another restaurant that we selected from an online search. It was Wiley's Championship BBQ, on US 80, near Fort Pulaski.
Here we had the kind of  meal we like to have: good food in a small restaurant made by someone that is proud of what they cook--and everything made in-house. We had great ribs, with great spicy sauce, really good home-made desserts and friendly service. The place had only six or seven tables. Another good luck of the draw for our online searches. 

Today is another rainy day, and cool. We are leaving this island tomorrow morning. We will be staying at a campground on St. James Island, outside of Charleston, SC, tomorrow night. If the campground is good, we may extend our stay for three or four nights. Another thing we hope to do tomorrow is to visit the site, in North Charleston, where the Confederate submarine, H. L. Hunley, is being conserved. This submarine is another one of the amazing stories that has come out of the Civil War.

Jan. 30, 2014: We have been on the road for just over six weeks and we are still searching for warm weather. However, it was good that we decided to stop on Jekyll Island and then even better that we decided to stay an extra week; the winter storm that hit the southeast with snow, ice, and freezing temps this week caused all kinds of problems:power outages, bridges closed because of ice, and cars abandoned on highways, some of the communities don't even have a plow. None of these conditions affected the island; all we had was cold rain. One couple told me that they have been staying at this campground during the winter for fifteen years and have never seen the temperature and conditions this bad.

Jekyll Island is in what is called the Georgia Bight; it is the most western part of the east coast, almost directly south of Cleveland, Ohio. It has seldom been hit by hurricanes, and seldom, if ever, sees snow. We can see why so many northern retirees have moved here or spend four to five months here during the winter. 

Close to the campground, we visited the ruins of a house built in 1743. It was the second house built by William Horton, the first settler on the island,after his first house was torched by the Spanish forces from Florida in 1742. They attacked this area in an attempt to drive off the English settlers on St. Simon Island across the inlet. The Spanish were driven off, but destroyed Horton's house during their retreat. 

The material used to construct the house was a mixture of mortar, lime, sand, and oyster shells. The walls of the two-story house are still intact. This mixture was used for construction in this area until the late 1800's.

Jekyll Island was purchased by a small group of northern millionaires in 1880 from the plantation family that owned the island. These millionaires were the same ones that had "summer cottages" in Newport, RI. They formed an exclusive and private club to build a "winter retreat" on the island. They built a large hotel, a few of them built their own cottages--not quite as elaborate as their Newport homes--an infirmary, and other buildings to provide for their sport and hunting activities.

The island was turned over to the state of Georgia in 1947. Many of the buildings used by the millionaire's club are still in use. The hotel still operates. As a matter of fact, I asked the valet at the front door about the hotel's pub, but because of his attitude we decided not to eat at the hotel. It may have been our casual dress, or the fact that the pub did not open until 5:00 PM, that made him act a bit rudely. B said she wouldn't eat there in any case. A group of people were playing croquet on the large, well-groomed lawn in front of the hotel. They were all dressed in white outfits, which indicated to us a certain amount of snobbery exists amongst the hotel's quests. 

We walked the grounds to look at some of the buildings and then our plan was to find a nice place for some seafood. Near the hotel, a pier extended out over the water. It had a sign for a restaurant so we headed there. The restaurant did not open until 5:00 PM also, but at the end of the pier, two women, standing near some tables and chairs, waved to us to come out to the end of the pier, which we did.  Here we found a very small restaurant-bar called The Rah Bar. One of the women was the bartender and the other the cook. This was a casual dining place at its best. Instead of sitting outside, we ate inside at the bar. We  had a nice conversation with the bartender while we ate two excellent seafood platters: B had shrimp, mussels, crawdads with hot-sauce, I had a low country boil-- shrimp, crawdads, dungeness crab, sausage, potatoes, and corn. The shrimp were fresh local wild-caught and cooked just right.

The bartender told us that earlier in the day she had seen a large group of white pelicans on a sandbar, just off the pier. She showed us a photo she had taken of them. While we were eating, she suddenly said that two of the white pelicans were on the railing outside, behind us. I had my camera, but because what we were eating was "finger food," I couldn't, or wouldn't, pick up my camera to get a picture. White pelicans are not usually seen up in this area.

After our great meal, we continued our walk. We watched two helicopters land in another nearby grassy area. They were police helicopters. B found out from the pilot of the first helicopter that they were attending a conference for police pilots from the region during the next two days.

The only building we went into was the club's infirmary, a two story building, which is now a bookstore. The building now contains three less books and three less jars of local style preserves.

We continued our drive around the seven mile by one-and-a-half mile long island, looking at some of the well-taken-care-of homes--many of them owned by retirees from up north. Quite a few of the homes had "For Sale" signs--a result of nature's retiree recycling program, most likely.

Our last stop was at the Seaside Shops, a cluster of "trailer-style" buildings containing among them: a small grocery shop, a liquor store, a bank, a gift shop, a variety store, hairdresser shop, and a real estate rental/sales office. All of this right at the beach front. 

Jan. 25, 2014: Like everyone back home, we are just doing what we need to do. The weather here, although not as extreme as back in NH, has been cold. Each night since our first night here has been near the freezing mark. Temperatures in the nearby city of Brunswick have been at or below freezing, but the waters around the island have helped to keep us slightly above. It is times like this that we miss our wood stove.

During the time here on Jekyll Island, we have learned quite a bit about some of the "long term" campers that are "crowded" around us. [This campground is in a state park--actually I think the whole island is a state property--therefore, the maximum number of camp sites are put into a minimum amount of space, without removing trees.] For example, we had a problem with our TV cable connection on the first day. The office sent a man right out to look at it. He told us that he is a retired union electrician from Atlanta. He volunteers as a "camp host," which gets him a free stay here in the park for being available a few hours per week to work on simple maintenance calls--such as our cable connection. He told us that he stays here three months in the summer, and is now spending six months during the winter.

Other people we have talked to say they have been coming here for at least three months, during the winter, for a number of years, booking the same site  year after year. One couple, from Ontario who have been coming here for about ten years, has their site booked up to 2017. Another person we spoke with told us that she and her husband have been doing this for a number of years; first with a motor home and now with a smaller van-type camper. Both she and her husband have serious cancer conditions, but neither one of them want to give up the life-style and friends that they have come to know.

Friends of campers who come here have tried to book a space, but have not been able to because there are only so many spaces available to handle large motor home or fifth-wheelers. We were lucky with our rig to get in because we fit into one of the smaller sites. As a matter of fact, our cable repair was made by connecting to the box in the site next to ours which is even smaller. One of our "long term" neighbors said that the smaller site has never been rented out because it is so small--although, if someone with a small tent shows up...

B and I have been amazed at the number of people who do this type of residence camping in large motor homes and fifth-wheelers during the winter months. With our rig, we feel like a little tugboat sitting amongst a harbor full of yachts. Each campground that we have been to so far has had a large number of sites being used for three or more months. This campground has 206 sites and over 50% of the sites are being used for winter residence. Walking through the campground, we see license plates from Ontario, New York, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Michigan, Maine, Vermont, and, New Hampshire. There may be other states, but we have not walked over all the camp's roads. This reminds me of the seasonal migrations that the Native Americans did before the white man came and stole the idea along with the land.

B & I have tried to do some walking each day. One of our first walks was out to the ocean side coast near the campground called Driftwood Beach. It is about one mile each way. The walk took us along a bike path, across a tidal marsh, through a short wooded section, onto the beach. Coming out of the woods, we were amazed to see the beach covered with the dead, wind and water shaped remains of trees. Some of the trees, still upright, were in the ocean. Some were on their sides, with their roots exposed, forming giant, twisted, massive circular sculptures. Others were partially buried in the sand with only twisted, gray branches reaching up. It looks like a battle ground between the ocean and the forest--with the ocean winning. 

B and I will stay here for an additional week; hoping to see some of the warm temperatures and sunshine that we expected when we migrated down here for our winter campground.   

Jan. 20, 2014:  We have now gone down the coast as far south as we want to go: Jekyll Island, GA. We left St. Helena Island this morning.

Our stay in St Helena was primarily a stop made to get cable TV. It would have been better if we didn't have it on Sunday; watching the Patriots play-making was painful. Oh well, half way through the season we did not think they would even make it to the play offs.

While we were on the island we did drive around the island. It is a very different scene than what we are use to seeing in NH--large live oak trees draped in spanish moss creating tunnel-like enclosures over the road. There are large tidal marshes that cover very large areas. Along the ocean edge, there are large long-needle pine and palmetto forest--almost jungle like--and really great white sand beaches.

We also visited a National Historical Landmark, the Penn Center. It was the site of one of the first schools to teach freed slaves to read and write, established during the Civil War. It developed into a school to teach vocational skills, along with educating children from grade 1 though 12. It is now a museum, since becoming an Historical Landmark in 1973, but also provides community services. The museum tells the story of the slaves who worked the rice plantation on the low country islands and how, because they were isolated from the mainland, they developed a unique language called Gullah. The descendants of those slaves still live on these islands and called themselves Gullah.

When we left the island and crossed into Beaufort, we made a turn onto a roadway that would take us south. The traffic came to a slow crawl. At first we thought there was accident or fire ahead of us, but we soon found out that it was neither of those things; we found ourselves at the back end of a parade for MLK Day. A large ladder firetruck and two police cars were ahead of us and the last police car made a stop at every side road to remove cones to stop traffic from coming out onto the parade route. We felt sorry for the policeman, he was the driver of the car and he had quite a large number of cones to move. We figure he was the low man in the station or had really ticked off a higher up.The slow drive was not upsetting to us because it gave us a chance to get a good look at the really magnificent homes that lined this road that ran along a bay--with large spanish moss trees lining the bay side of the road.
We continued south; again through marshes, rivers and waterways with high- rise bridges, along US 17, until we arrived at the cutoff to go east to Jekyll Island.

The island is a state park--as a result we had to pay a ten dollar fee to cross over to the island--because we are considered an oversize vehicle. Getting off the island is free. The Jekyll Island campground is at the north end of the island which we easily found since there is only one road looping around the island. We had called the campground earlier in the day to check on the availability of sites. I thought the woman who answered was "play acting" somewhat because she took some time checking her list. When we got here, we were surprised to see how many campers were here--and how close together the sites are.

We have decided to stay here for a week. Hopefully, we will finally get to experience a warm southern climate. Maybe even for a few continuous days. Today, when we arrived here, the temperature was 65° and sunny. Nice start.

Jan. 16, 2014: Tonight, we are in St. Helena Island, SC, in a campground by the name of "Tuck in the Wood." It is about 165 miles south of Huntington Beach.

B and I were having such a good time in Huntington Beach that we forgot what day we had to leave. We thought it was on Friday, but it was actually Thursday, Jan. 16. Last night as I was making an entry in a travel log that I keep, I suddenly realized that we had to leave our site in the morning. 

We had a couple of things planned for today, but since some of it involved eating seafood, it was no problem to postpone it to a different day or to a different place.

We left the campground at 10:00; on the side of the road, as we approached the causeway, a brown pelican stood, as if to say goodbye.
On the way here, we made a stop in North Charleston at the Warren Lasch Conservation Center where the Confederate submarine H. L. Hunley is on display. The only problem was that it is only on display Saturdays and Sundays. 
Finding this location proved the value of OnStar. Without it, there was little chance of finding the building where it is kept on the Old Charleston Naval Base.

We returned to US-17 toward Beaufort, SC. The road passes through flat pine forests, swamps, past long deserted businesses, and over some wide waterways on some fairly high bridges--B's favorite thing. The road in some places, just outside Charleston, was lined with empty stalls that advertised the sale of sweetgrass basket. We imagine during the summer that these stalls are stocked and open. Today we only saw one stall with baskets being offered. We are not sure how they get people to stop since there was no parking area at the side of the busy two-lane highway.

We crossed onto the island of St. Helena and stopped at the first non-fast food franchise place to eat that we came to.  It was about 2:30. It was called Blue Dog Cafe, in the town of Frogmore. The signs outside also offered locally made crafts and furniture. The eating section was at the back of the shop.

B and I both had low country gumbo; shrimp, andouille sausage, okra, tomato, peppers, and other stuff, over rice. Very spicy and very good. With our bellies full, we browsed the shop. B talked to the couple who own the shop to find out how to cook okra without it being slimy. She got the info she needed. The man had been a pilot of Braniff Airlines and he used to operate Manchester Air in NH. His wife's parents lived in Portsmouth, NH and her sister lives in Keene. It has been amazing how many people we've talked to that have connections to NH. 

Jan. 13, 2014: Yesterday was a perfect winter day; the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and the temperature was in the mid-50's--and the Patriots beat the Colts: 43 to 22. (We got to watch the game on our laptop on Saturday night. The three hour game ate up almost all of our scheduled monthly data usage on our Verizon plan, on the first day of the plan's new month. I contacted Verizon on Sunday morning to increase the data plan--otherwise I couldn't be doing this, the blog.)
We returned to Brookgreen Gardens to view the grounds and sculpture gardens in more comfortable weather than we had when we first visited the site six days ago. We were in the parking lot at 10:30; we didn't leave until 3:00. During that time we walked about three and a quarter miles--without even realizing it. Even though it is winter, it is still a spectacular place to walk. We imagine in the spring, the flowers must be out of this world--we could see huge beds of daffodils and tulips already sending up green shoots. We did see two flowering trees already blooming; one was a camellia, the other I'm not sure what it was, except that it was pink. This park covers many acres, but the paths are easy to walk in--and they provide strollers for people who have difficulty walking.
Besides the gardens, fountains, and outdoor sculptures, they also have a section telling the history of the low country plantations. There is a large rice field, the site of the plantations slave quarters, and a small museum which we found very interesting. The floor of the museum in covered with an aerial photograph of the low country in this part of South Carolina, between Myrtle Beach and Winjah Bay. Also, in the exhibit was a story about a southern lady, Rachel Allston, who once owned Brookgreen. She was married to a William Allston, who died, leaving her with six children and a plantation. She ran the plantation for three years. She then married a Dr. H. C. Flagg of Rhode Island. He had moved to South Carolina with the Continental Army. When her family objected to her marrying a northerner, she replied that she had married William Allston to please the family, now she was marrying Dr. Flagg to please herself. The card said she lived at Brookgreen until 1800. The card did not say how long  Dr. Flagg survived in the marriage.
On the grounds, there are two zoo sections; one showing farm animals that would have been kept on the plantation, the other showing animals native to area. In this section is an aviary built over a cypress swamp. Inside the netted enclosure, a large number of wading bird are free to fly within the area, or to walk on the walkway provided for us humans. It is an opportunity to see these birds up close--and almost personal. Some of the birds we saw in the aviary were: Black-crowned Night Heron, Great Blue Heron,White Ibis, Great Egret, and Cattle Egret--one of these came up to a woman standing ahead of us and picked off a small insect that was on her jeans.
Near the zoo area, there is also a unbelievable children's playground with a large number of amazing things for them to play on: among them a pirate ship, small playhouses, and a castle.
We stopped for a nice lunch, sandwich, beer/wine, and pecan pie, at the "Old Kitchen," on the grounds, near the sculpture center.
B and I would recommend that anyone visiting this area of South Carolina stop at this Garden. The price is reasonable and the tickets are good for seven days.
Today was B's birthday--a nice quiet day with a great lunch at a seafood shack, in Murrells Inlet, called Graham's Landing. She had grilled oysters, littlenecks; I had low country stew--a spicy mix of chicken, shrimp, rice, tomato, and andouille sausage--crab cake. But this wasn't enough, so we shared a pound of low country shrimp boil.

Jan. 11, 2014: This will be a recap of the last few days. It has been a series of changes during that time: in the weather, in our camp sites, and in the camper.

Six nights ago, Jan. 6, was our first night without having the heat on in the camper; the temperature stayed in the 70's! We did some housekeeping in the morning. Then, we disconnected the hoses and power lines to the camper, made sure everything inside was secure, and drove off the site to go shopping down the road in Pawley Island. First stop, an Ace Hardware for a propane refill--done by a former Mass. retireree who moved here five years ago to escape the snow. Then, some food shopping, at a Food Lion Store, with very helpful clerks. Next, a stop at a laundromat--location given to us by the checkout lady--young, formerly known as "girl"--this job took a bit more than an hour, but the machines were large capacity--very important--clean, and not over-priced. From here, we went to find a WalMart located in Murrells Inlet, up the road a ways.  When we got to the area, we saw the W/M sign, but couldn't find the entrance. It took a couple of turns into adjacent lots before we found it. Then we had a strangely laid out parking lot to contend with. We got the one item we were looking for to help with our "closet" layout and left the store. While we walking back to the camper, a car slowed down along side of us. The driver called out to us. He said that he and his girl friend--who we assumed was the girl sitting next to him--had just been robbed of their "stuff"--he started to give us a list--but I "nicely" said: "Sorry for your loss, but go tell a cop." We must have looked like easy marks.
We were back at the campground at 4:15.

Today, still Jan. 6, I ordered an item for the camper which we hope will alleviate a problem we are having with condensation in the "bedroom." The product, HyperVent, was suggested by two persons in the NorthernLite Owners group when I raised the question in their forum a few days ago. The company is in Marysville, WA. I spoke to them by phone and then placed the order online, with the item to shipped here to the campground--the office accepts packages for campers. I also contacted the Mail Service company in Florida that is receiving our mail and requested they sent us the mail that has been forwarded to them from Hebron.

Now, the next day, Jan 7, was a very different day. Last night the temperature went down to 19°! The first thing we noticed was that there was no water coming out of the faucets. The water hose outside was frozen, as well as the outside faucet handle. I could not even disconnect the hose from the faucet. I put a heating pad, which we brought with us for other purposes, over the faucet and hose connection and connected it to the electrical box. About twenty minutes later I was able to disconnect the hose and bring it inside to thaw.

While that took place, we had breakfast. Then, to take up some more time, I placed a call to FairPoint Communications, our telephone provider at home. I sent them a "required form" to set up an auto-payment using Visa at the very beginning of December. I never received any word that it was received or accepted. Because I couldn't remember my account number, the agent wouldn't answer my question, The agent asked if I could give the exact amount of my last payment. This took a little time but I was able to find it by getting my computer out, turn it on, then search through my checking records. With this done, the agent now said, in answer to my question, that he would have to transfer me to the financial department. However, he was nice enough to give me my correct account number because, he said, they would ask for it. Transfer made--with an opportunity to listen to some FairPoint commercials telling me how good they were and how important their customers were--account number provided--now, the new agent said they don't confirm the receipt applications for auto-payments. That would come, by mail, when the first bill is to be paid. Also, the first auto-payment wouldn't take place until the current bill is paid--which was sent out after we left NH. I was able to take care of this loose end on this call--with a transfer to another department.

By now, the water hose was thawed. Outside, the faucet was still frozen; the air temperature had not warmed up very much. We decided to leave the site and visit Brookgreen Sculpture Gardens nearby.
On the way, stopping at the office to report the frozen pipe at our site; they said the water was turned off because of repairs going on near our site. We drove out to the Gardens.

Brookgreen Gardens was owned by Archer and Anna Huntington; she was a famous sculpter and he was just wealthy. He purchased four former rice plantations to create these gardens in order to display her sculptures. In 1931, they turned it into a public museum. The gardens, even in winter, still had a great deal of green, even some flowering trees, Camellias. However, we did not linger very long outside; it was windy and cold. too cold to appreciate artwork. We did have one building to enter, a sculpture center exhibiting works by many different artists. We watched a film showing one sculptor, Richard McDermott Miller, showing him creating a piece and then how it was cast in bronze. It was an interesting film. A large number of his pieces and studies are on display in the center. He was--he died in 2004--an excellent sculptor of the human form, especially of women.
We left the Gardens to return to our site. We plan to return here again, on a warmer day, to complete the tour of the gardens; the tickets are good for seven days.

It was 3:00 PM. The water faucet for our site was still out. A call to the office brought a young lady park ranger to check. She called maintenance. They sent out a crew of three men, one with a propane torch. Another problem; none of them had matches or a lighter to light the torch. One of them drove back to the office; when he returned, he indicated that he had to buy the box of wooden matches. The first match failed to light the torch before it went out. This caused the "buyer" to say; "There goes five cents." Once it was lit, the torch flame was applied to the faucet, the fittings, first with one man holding the torch, then he past it to the second man to do it for awhile; water still did not come out of the faucet.
The park ranger at this point decided that we might have to move to another site so she called the office to see if there was another full-hookup site available. There was, but we would have to come into the office to get a new vehicle tag before moving into it. Furthermore, we could only stay in this new site until the 10th, we would then have to return to our current site. They assured us that the faucet would be up and running by then.

We packed up our wagon, picked up the tag, moved to the new site, and were setup at 4:00 PM. B made supper: Cornish Game Hen with roasted potatoes and vegetable--very good. With clean up finished and an early shower completed, I brought in the hose to keep it from freezing again--it was predicted to go down to the mid-twenties--and we went to bed.

The next morning, Jan. 8, after our first cup of coffee, I went out to reconnect the water hose. The faucet was frozen; I couldn't turn the handle. I used the heating pad again to try heating the faucet but it wasn't working--again. It just happened that two of the maintenance men from yesterday were doing their morning chores, cleaning bathhouses, and they parked their truck next to out new site. I told them my troubles. They said they would go a get the torch. I didn't expect to come back right away, but they did--with torch and matches. We soon had water. A short time later, as B was doing dishes, the water was off again. A call to the office told us that the water was turned off in order to work on a nearby leak. It seems that the cold snap has caused many water problems throughout the park. A short time later, the water returned to our site. One of the maintenance men even came to the camper to make sure we had our water. We certainly can't complain about the service here in the park.

I was in such a good mood that I decided to call Verizon to have them explain the high amount of my first bill--much higher than I was led to believe when I signed up for all this technology. The call actually went well; they explained the cost and there will be some credits applied to the next month's bill. We shall see.

 To finish up the morning, we took a walk out on the walkway into the salt marsh, even though there was a cool breeze. We did get to see large groups of plovers and dowitchers feeding, and a Glossy Ibis doing a basking routine. From here, we went to the entrance causeway, which separates the salt water marsh from a fresh water marsh. We got to see a Great Blue Heron and a Great Egret up close. Our next stop was a viewing platform, located a short distance from the causeway, out on the fresh water marsh. Now we an even better view, and photos, of an Great Egret. We also saw brown pelicans, buffleheads, and species of ducks that we are not familiar with. B saw a wood stork. The cold was getting to us so we started back to our site. We were near another attraction in the park that we had not seen yet. It is called Atalaya, this was the winter home of the Huntingtons. It was not much to look at from the out side; B thought it looked like a prison. At the entrance, we learned that there are no furnishing, or exhibits of Anna Huntington's sculpture or of her studio in the building and they wanted two dollars for the privilege of walking through the empty building. We declined the privilege.

Back at the camper, B made dinner: salmon with linquica--everything tastes better with linquica.

The next morning, now, Jan. 9, as we were preparing to drive out to go to a CVS to get some cold medication for B, she noticed a note under our windshield wiper; it said we had a package at the office. On the way out, I stopped to pick up the package, thinking it was the mail service delivery of our mail from Florida. It turned out to be material I ordered from Washington state. It was too large; I said I would pick it up when I returned from shopping.

We got the cold meds at CVS, then went to Food Lion again for a few things: comfort food, Krispy Creme Crullers, Krispie Kreme Cherry Pie--individual serving size--and beer. The store has a beer section where you can fill up a six-pack with any beer of your choice--a nice way to try some new microbrews.

We returned to camp, picking up our package on the way in, and got it open to see what it looked like. It is a stiff, plastic, loosely-laid,  fiber mat about 3/4" thick, 39" wide, and 15' long. The manufacturers website said it could be cut with scissors--it didn't mention that they should be heavy-duty scissors. I had a pair of Chinese scissors with a 3" blade. Fortunately, these scissors had large finger loops. I managed to cut the  length in half. Each half filling one side of the sleeping platform. The width was more than the platform. I had to cut some notches in order to fit each strip in and fold it at the sides. The idea behind this product is that the air will circulate under the mattress, to prevent condensation and mildew. Again, another, we shall see.

It is now Jan. 10. We have to move once again, back to our previous site. I went to the office to get my new vehicle tag--I now have a tag collection hanging off the rear-view mirror. Because of the road layout and one-way directions, we had to drive six-tenths of a mile to move to the previous site, about 50 yards away.

In our previous site, all set up,  and using the new faucet and fittings, we decided we actually like it better than the other one. For one thing there are a couple of large trees next to the camper that the birds seem to like and there are clusters of trees around a clearing behind us that screen out the view of other campsites. We have only one camper next to us; we have to be outside to see it.

It was mild last night, so we did not get to check the condensation reducing qualities of our new sleeping mat. A still future: we shall see.

After breakfast, we went back out to the fresh water marsh. It was a nice warm day. It was what we expected to find in South Carolina in the winter. We watched large flocks of ducks for awhile from the viewing platform, but there was a large flock of large professional, or semi-professional, looking photographers on the platform with us, so it was a bit crowded. We returned to our site.

At the site, very near to our water pipe, at the edge of the paved road,  I could see a large puddle of water--and the water was flowing. A closer look showed a small bubble of water raising out of the ground. I called the office to let them know the good news. They sent two maintenance men out right away. Our friend, the ranger, also came out. She said she couldn't believe it when she heard the call on the radio--that site 50 was having a water problem. The men dug down to the pipe, about two feet, but the hole just filled with water. They went to turn off the water. When they came back, the man in the camper next to us came over to find out why the water was turned off and for how long. It seems that his wife had decided to take a shower shortly before the water was turned off. He suggested that the maintenance men might want to consider running away if it was going to take too long.  Luckily, it did not take long. It was a plastic pipe that they could cut and repair with a nipple and two clamps.
B was cooking dinner while the repairs were being done. She came out as they were completing the job to tell me that dinner was in five minutes and to find out if we had to move to another site. This time: we did not have to.