Here's Tina and Mary frolicking on the beach at the end of a beautiful sunset somewhere in Alabama. Enjoy!
Showing posts with label Alabama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alabama. Show all posts
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
A Long Day and a Long Story
The day began with us pulling out of the Rainbow Plantation RV Park (so aptly described in Mary's last post), heading for an early morning appointment with a mechanic who came strongly recommended by several people at the park.
We arrived to the mechanic's garage in Robertsdale, Alabama at 8:30 and reviewed our "punch list" of items to be addressed. With Tina in tow, we tried to decide how to pass the next few hours. It was relatively cold (37 degrees F) but sunny, and the temperature was forecast to slowly rise all morning to the low 50's. We chose to spend the morning exploring the town.
Our morning was like something out of a movie by Jim Jarmusch. For those of you not familiar with Mr. Jarmusch, he makes quirky and interesting independent films which are often graced with atmospheric music by musicians such as Tom Waits. Jarmusch's early films, like Mystery Train, feature bleak urban and rural American landscapes filmed in grainy black and white, and the characters move within those landscapes like aliens dropped from a parallel universe.
For several hours, we wandered the somewhat bleak landscape of Robertsdale, walking with Tina in the cool morning air, seeing simple homes with countless barking, unhappy dogs tied on short chains in cluttered back yards. It was simply too cold to leave Tina sitting on her own outside a restaurant, and the "waiting room" at the garage was simply too foul with auto exhaust and other unidentifiable toxins to be comfortable for waiting. So, we wandered and wandered, eventually passing time in a very nice playground where Tina took a nap, I played on the swings, and Mary did yoga and meditated.
After three hours of passing the time in this way, the word came that it would be several more hours until our rig was ready. We had brought it in for routine maintenance, but a few pressing mechanical issues has presented themselves, and we chose to have them dealt with swiftly and decisively.
As the morning warmed, we made our way to a "down home" local restaurant offering a buffet-style lunch for $8. While Mary had no appetite, I was absolutely famished, and the friendly waitresses and owner guided us to the buffet where I piled a plate with mashed potatoes, navy beans, cole slaw, turnip greens, broccoli, and peach cobbler. It was good old-fashioned American fare chased down with strong decaf coffee, and they even let us bring two hamburgers and a dish of water to poor old Tina who was yelping wretchedly every few minutes from the front porch. Meanwhile, Mary's hunger awoke at the smell of food and I fed her surreptitiously from my plate, returning to the buffet for more beans, greens and potatoes with which to please her.
During the course of our meal, Mary struck up a cordial conversation with two elderly brothers at the next table, and after a fairly lengthy conversation about our lives and travels, the more talkative of the two said called us over to their table.
"Y'know, I'd like to offer you to stay for free for two days on my property on the Gulf of Mexico near Biloxi, Mississippi." He leaned forward, looked me in the eye, and said, "Just two days, mind you." I readily agreed.
"You see," he continued, "my house on the Gulf was destroyed in the big hurricane, but there's still electricity, and I'd like you to feel welcome to park there. In fact, let me write down the directions and my phone number. And if anyone asks you why you're there, just tell them Bill sent you."
I thanked him profusely since Mary had excused herself to tend to Tina, and he wrote down the directions in Mary's journal. He added that "the best barbecue in the United States" was right down the street and we just had to eat there while visiting his property.
Finally, when lunch was done, we received the call that our rig was indeed ready, five hours after we had started. The friendly mechanic presented us with a substantial bill, some good advice, some peace of mind, and news that other work would be needed down the road, hopefully sooner than later.
We returned to the RV park to discuss some other needed repairs with a local RV technician, made an appointment with him for Friday, and headed down the road to the Alabama Gulf Coast in search of a place to stay for the sunny week which was forecast to continue until Friday. Stopping to get diesel and propane, we arrived at a recommended campground on the coast just before sundown, but the park was very unimpressive and depressing, with views of an over-developed coastline filled with big hotel resorts and coastal sprawl.
Knowing that the beautiful and more remote Fort Pickens National Park was only 40 miles further east over the Florida border, we chose to drive into the darkening evening with Mary at the helm. A blood-red sunset washed through the sky behind us, and I spent a few minutes (illegally) laying on the bed and watching the sky through the rear window.
We arrived to Fort Pickens by 8:30pm, tired but happy, having driven through the touristy sprawl surrounding Pensacola. Our elation at finally arriving turned to upset when I discovered that our propane tank's knob was not turning, being for all intents and purposes frozen, making us immediately realize that we were facing the reality of a night without heat. With temperatures still forecast to be below freezing overnight, being without heat is non-negotiable for us, the danger of frozen and burst pipes a very clear reality. With our propane furnace as our only heat source, this was a dire situation in need of a timely remedy.
Anxiously calling our RV technician contacts (and even the kind National Park rangers who responded with a visit!), we were not able to glean any advice that would remedy the situation, so we were faced with the lamentable choice of driving 16 miles round-trip to the nearest Wal-Mart (a store which I have stalwartly boycotted for my entire life) to purchase a portable electric heater, taking into consideration that our campsite was equipped with reliable electrical power that would give us the energy to run it.
Arriving to the local Wal-Mart, I was informed (as I had expected) that there had been a rush on portable heaters for the last two weeks, and every store in Florida was sold out, including this one. Bare shelves confirmed the story, and the very kind salesperson listened to my tale of woe very closely.
"Well, sir" he said thoughtfully, "let me run to the back. Someone returned a heater the other day, and maybe it's still back there. I don't know if it works or not, but let's find out."
He rushed to the stock room and returned with a smile several minutes later. We plugged in the heater, which was working perfectly, and I gratefully paid for it with a gift card that the gracious Latino elders at Mary's old workplace had given to her several years ago for Mother's Day. We returned to Fort Pickens by 11pm, exhausted and spent.
Unfortunately, to top off our day, I backed the rig into a low-lying branch and bent the ladder at the top of the rig, but no permanent damage seems to have been done and it can assuredly be easily fixed. Oy vey.
When I returned to the rig after plugging in our electric cord and checking on the ladder, Mary was on the phone and in tears, having received the news that her close friend's sister had died of a sudden heart attack just hours ago, leaving two young children and a husband who had all witnessed her death despite the husband's efforts to revive her.
This life on the road is filled with unexpected twists and turns. As I write, the portable electric heater is warming our space adequately, and our pipes are no longer in danger of freezing. In terms of cooking, we have a small one-burner camp stove that we can use outdoors tomorrow, so we are assured of a warm cup of tea and a hot meal. In terms of the stuck propane knob, we hope that this situation will be easily remedied, and we'll make calls tomorrow in search of someone who can offer us a solution. The propane powers our furnace, hot water heater and kitchen stove, so it is essential to our comfort and self-sufficiency.
For now, we go to bed grateful and tired, and the news of our dear friend's sister's death certainly puts our problems into proper perspective. We will be ready to face the day tomorrow, take in some sun, and determine the fate of our propane tank and our future ability to heat our home, take hot showers and cook. Still, we have a cozy home in which to slumber, we're safe and sound, and this vexing problem too shall pass.
Not having heat or hot water is one thing, but losing a loved (an experience with which we are all too familiar) is an incomparable challenge that truly tests an individual's ability to cope and carry on in the face of tragedy and grief. We give thanks for our relative health and well-being, and we pray for our friend and her family as they cope with a sudden and tragic loss.
---Keith
We arrived to the mechanic's garage in Robertsdale, Alabama at 8:30 and reviewed our "punch list" of items to be addressed. With Tina in tow, we tried to decide how to pass the next few hours. It was relatively cold (37 degrees F) but sunny, and the temperature was forecast to slowly rise all morning to the low 50's. We chose to spend the morning exploring the town.
Our morning was like something out of a movie by Jim Jarmusch. For those of you not familiar with Mr. Jarmusch, he makes quirky and interesting independent films which are often graced with atmospheric music by musicians such as Tom Waits. Jarmusch's early films, like Mystery Train, feature bleak urban and rural American landscapes filmed in grainy black and white, and the characters move within those landscapes like aliens dropped from a parallel universe.
For several hours, we wandered the somewhat bleak landscape of Robertsdale, walking with Tina in the cool morning air, seeing simple homes with countless barking, unhappy dogs tied on short chains in cluttered back yards. It was simply too cold to leave Tina sitting on her own outside a restaurant, and the "waiting room" at the garage was simply too foul with auto exhaust and other unidentifiable toxins to be comfortable for waiting. So, we wandered and wandered, eventually passing time in a very nice playground where Tina took a nap, I played on the swings, and Mary did yoga and meditated.
After three hours of passing the time in this way, the word came that it would be several more hours until our rig was ready. We had brought it in for routine maintenance, but a few pressing mechanical issues has presented themselves, and we chose to have them dealt with swiftly and decisively.
As the morning warmed, we made our way to a "down home" local restaurant offering a buffet-style lunch for $8. While Mary had no appetite, I was absolutely famished, and the friendly waitresses and owner guided us to the buffet where I piled a plate with mashed potatoes, navy beans, cole slaw, turnip greens, broccoli, and peach cobbler. It was good old-fashioned American fare chased down with strong decaf coffee, and they even let us bring two hamburgers and a dish of water to poor old Tina who was yelping wretchedly every few minutes from the front porch. Meanwhile, Mary's hunger awoke at the smell of food and I fed her surreptitiously from my plate, returning to the buffet for more beans, greens and potatoes with which to please her.
During the course of our meal, Mary struck up a cordial conversation with two elderly brothers at the next table, and after a fairly lengthy conversation about our lives and travels, the more talkative of the two said called us over to their table.
"Y'know, I'd like to offer you to stay for free for two days on my property on the Gulf of Mexico near Biloxi, Mississippi." He leaned forward, looked me in the eye, and said, "Just two days, mind you." I readily agreed.
"You see," he continued, "my house on the Gulf was destroyed in the big hurricane, but there's still electricity, and I'd like you to feel welcome to park there. In fact, let me write down the directions and my phone number. And if anyone asks you why you're there, just tell them Bill sent you."
I thanked him profusely since Mary had excused herself to tend to Tina, and he wrote down the directions in Mary's journal. He added that "the best barbecue in the United States" was right down the street and we just had to eat there while visiting his property.
Finally, when lunch was done, we received the call that our rig was indeed ready, five hours after we had started. The friendly mechanic presented us with a substantial bill, some good advice, some peace of mind, and news that other work would be needed down the road, hopefully sooner than later.
We returned to the RV park to discuss some other needed repairs with a local RV technician, made an appointment with him for Friday, and headed down the road to the Alabama Gulf Coast in search of a place to stay for the sunny week which was forecast to continue until Friday. Stopping to get diesel and propane, we arrived at a recommended campground on the coast just before sundown, but the park was very unimpressive and depressing, with views of an over-developed coastline filled with big hotel resorts and coastal sprawl.
Knowing that the beautiful and more remote Fort Pickens National Park was only 40 miles further east over the Florida border, we chose to drive into the darkening evening with Mary at the helm. A blood-red sunset washed through the sky behind us, and I spent a few minutes (illegally) laying on the bed and watching the sky through the rear window.
We arrived to Fort Pickens by 8:30pm, tired but happy, having driven through the touristy sprawl surrounding Pensacola. Our elation at finally arriving turned to upset when I discovered that our propane tank's knob was not turning, being for all intents and purposes frozen, making us immediately realize that we were facing the reality of a night without heat. With temperatures still forecast to be below freezing overnight, being without heat is non-negotiable for us, the danger of frozen and burst pipes a very clear reality. With our propane furnace as our only heat source, this was a dire situation in need of a timely remedy.
Anxiously calling our RV technician contacts (and even the kind National Park rangers who responded with a visit!), we were not able to glean any advice that would remedy the situation, so we were faced with the lamentable choice of driving 16 miles round-trip to the nearest Wal-Mart (a store which I have stalwartly boycotted for my entire life) to purchase a portable electric heater, taking into consideration that our campsite was equipped with reliable electrical power that would give us the energy to run it.
Arriving to the local Wal-Mart, I was informed (as I had expected) that there had been a rush on portable heaters for the last two weeks, and every store in Florida was sold out, including this one. Bare shelves confirmed the story, and the very kind salesperson listened to my tale of woe very closely.
"Well, sir" he said thoughtfully, "let me run to the back. Someone returned a heater the other day, and maybe it's still back there. I don't know if it works or not, but let's find out."
He rushed to the stock room and returned with a smile several minutes later. We plugged in the heater, which was working perfectly, and I gratefully paid for it with a gift card that the gracious Latino elders at Mary's old workplace had given to her several years ago for Mother's Day. We returned to Fort Pickens by 11pm, exhausted and spent.
Unfortunately, to top off our day, I backed the rig into a low-lying branch and bent the ladder at the top of the rig, but no permanent damage seems to have been done and it can assuredly be easily fixed. Oy vey.
When I returned to the rig after plugging in our electric cord and checking on the ladder, Mary was on the phone and in tears, having received the news that her close friend's sister had died of a sudden heart attack just hours ago, leaving two young children and a husband who had all witnessed her death despite the husband's efforts to revive her.
This life on the road is filled with unexpected twists and turns. As I write, the portable electric heater is warming our space adequately, and our pipes are no longer in danger of freezing. In terms of cooking, we have a small one-burner camp stove that we can use outdoors tomorrow, so we are assured of a warm cup of tea and a hot meal. In terms of the stuck propane knob, we hope that this situation will be easily remedied, and we'll make calls tomorrow in search of someone who can offer us a solution. The propane powers our furnace, hot water heater and kitchen stove, so it is essential to our comfort and self-sufficiency.
For now, we go to bed grateful and tired, and the news of our dear friend's sister's death certainly puts our problems into proper perspective. We will be ready to face the day tomorrow, take in some sun, and determine the fate of our propane tank and our future ability to heat our home, take hot showers and cook. Still, we have a cozy home in which to slumber, we're safe and sound, and this vexing problem too shall pass.
Not having heat or hot water is one thing, but losing a loved (an experience with which we are all too familiar) is an incomparable challenge that truly tests an individual's ability to cope and carry on in the face of tragedy and grief. We give thanks for our relative health and well-being, and we pray for our friend and her family as they cope with a sudden and tragic loss.
---Keith
15th Community?
We are at an intentional community of a sort, holin' up for the cold snap which is supposed to let up tomorrow. It is a campground called Rainbow Plantation in Summerdale, Alabama. This community within the RV community is one of a dozen or so campgrounds in the US under the umbrella of a special RV club called Escapees.
Not being club types, we belong to this one for more than the great name, Escapees.com. It's mostly because of their excellent mail forwarding service, campground discounts, and for being able to establish our new domicile, a legal address in Livingston, Texas on Rainbow Drive. :- ) We'll be heading to Rainbow Drive a month or so, as a matter of fact, to check out the rigs and digs there, and maybe even swim in this largest lake in Texas. I know it may be too cold and we are not that bold, but we can entertain the eventuality of swimming in the great outdoors again, right?
Back to Rainbow Plantation. This has been a needed respite from the road and the cold that tends to keep us inside these small quarters that is our only home. What has been a unique treat about this place is the community center where Keith and I have been able to stretch out, take some space from each other, and have some different fun together like shooting some pool, playing ping pong and watching a movie while sitting in cushy arm chairs! It felt like a teen center for elders. I got to chat with friendly full timers here, sit in on a community meeting, offer Laughter Yoga, and bike around the neighborhood, cold be damned! The old folks here thought we were either crazy or from the north, or both!
In the morning, we'll batten down the hatches and bring the rig to a trusted mechanic for an oil and fuel filter change, then go to a trusted RV mechanic for a few important things. The SKPs ("Skips") here referred us to the mechanics, who are themselves reliable Escapee members---a huge relief for us.
After the rig care, we decided that we'll head back to Florida (very close by) to our first national park called Ft. Pickens, which is on the tip of an isolated peninsula. We intend to enjoy some surf, sun, biking and hiking before we drive to New Orleans on Friday. After NOLA we may be pretty landlocked for a while and no telling what the weather will be by then, but it sure looks like 50-60's all week in NW Florida, where you might be able to find us!
Coming a little out of our way to stay at our first SKP campground was an important and timely choice. Although we are of a different generation than the overwhelming majority of retirees here, it has been really interesting for me to check out---and even participate in---albeit briefly, this social experiment of people living in community here. You won't find them listed in the F.I.C. (Federation of Intentional Communities) and they may not have ever heard of IC's, but they are living their dream of community life and I say, more power to 'em!
May you realize how you are living even just one dream of your life and may 2010 be the year that more of your dreams come true!
Love,
Mary
Not being club types, we belong to this one for more than the great name, Escapees.com. It's mostly because of their excellent mail forwarding service, campground discounts, and for being able to establish our new domicile, a legal address in Livingston, Texas on Rainbow Drive. :- ) We'll be heading to Rainbow Drive a month or so, as a matter of fact, to check out the rigs and digs there, and maybe even swim in this largest lake in Texas. I know it may be too cold and we are not that bold, but we can entertain the eventuality of swimming in the great outdoors again, right?
Back to Rainbow Plantation. This has been a needed respite from the road and the cold that tends to keep us inside these small quarters that is our only home. What has been a unique treat about this place is the community center where Keith and I have been able to stretch out, take some space from each other, and have some different fun together like shooting some pool, playing ping pong and watching a movie while sitting in cushy arm chairs! It felt like a teen center for elders. I got to chat with friendly full timers here, sit in on a community meeting, offer Laughter Yoga, and bike around the neighborhood, cold be damned! The old folks here thought we were either crazy or from the north, or both!
In the morning, we'll batten down the hatches and bring the rig to a trusted mechanic for an oil and fuel filter change, then go to a trusted RV mechanic for a few important things. The SKPs ("Skips") here referred us to the mechanics, who are themselves reliable Escapee members---a huge relief for us.
After the rig care, we decided that we'll head back to Florida (very close by) to our first national park called Ft. Pickens, which is on the tip of an isolated peninsula. We intend to enjoy some surf, sun, biking and hiking before we drive to New Orleans on Friday. After NOLA we may be pretty landlocked for a while and no telling what the weather will be by then, but it sure looks like 50-60's all week in NW Florida, where you might be able to find us!
Coming a little out of our way to stay at our first SKP campground was an important and timely choice. Although we are of a different generation than the overwhelming majority of retirees here, it has been really interesting for me to check out---and even participate in---albeit briefly, this social experiment of people living in community here. You won't find them listed in the F.I.C. (Federation of Intentional Communities) and they may not have ever heard of IC's, but they are living their dream of community life and I say, more power to 'em!
May you realize how you are living even just one dream of your life and may 2010 be the year that more of your dreams come true!
Love,
Mary
Friday, January 8, 2010
A Respite in Alabama
Just yesterday, we were basking in a brief window of relative Floridian winter warmth, enjoying temperatures of 58 degrees during the afternoon and a good dose of sun and sand. As the sun set, the temperature plummeted to 26 degrees overnight, and a strong wind of almost 25 mph---accompanied by freezing rain---shook our rig as we slept (or tried to).
With colder temperatures and strong winds forecast for the coast all weekend, we decided to retreat inland, heading to an RV park in Summerdale, Alabama, just 40 miles from Pensacola, Florida. As full-timers living in our RV, we're members of Escapees.com, an RV'ers co-op that provides discount RV parks, mail forwarding, and other services to full-timers. (Our legal address is actually at an Escapees park in Livingston, Texas, and that's where all of our mail now goes, so please email us for our address if you don't have it, and keep those cards and letters coming!)
So, we are now encamped at our first Escapees park, taking advantage of having a clubhouse where we can play pool and ping pong, watch movies, talk with other Escapees, and enjoy having an alternative place to hang out during this cold snap.
Staying at a campground in really cold weather can feel somewhat claustrophobic when there's nowhere else to go and the cold winds are howling, so being here relieves that concern, allowing us some breathing room and the ability to spend some healthy hours apart in a warm and comfortable space! (Tina is not allowed in the clubhouse, so we'll take turns and sometimes leave her alone in the rig, poor old girl.)
For now, our plan is to remain here at "Rainbow Plantation" for the weekend, catching up on emails, writing and phone calls, meditating, reading, playing pool and ping pong, and planning for the next leg of our adventure. On Monday, we'll have an oil change and lube for the ol' "Rigatina" (formerly known as "Scottie La Blanca"), and then head to the Alabama coast or northwest Florida coast for what promises to be a week of plentiful sun and temperatures in the 50s and perhaps 60s. Imagine that! Following our week on the coast, we'll then begin heading west through Alabama and Mississippi towards Louisiana, where we hope to visit some of Mary's extended family in New Orleans before our entry into Texas (which will become our legal state of residence forthwith).
In terms of our search for intentional community, our outreach to communities in Florida has not been terribly fruitful, perhaps due to the recent holiday season. Three communities have indeed responded to our inquiries, but two of them are still in the forming stage and are not yet up and running, and the other---the Kashi Ashram in Sebastian----was, alas, too far south for us to make the trek. We are now focusing our sights on intentional communities in Texas, and will soon begin reaching out to the ones that have piqued our interest (of which there are many).
We would love to post more videos for your enjoyment over the next few days, and it remains to be seen if we have the bandwidth to do so. Please know it's our clear intention to fully entertain you with our audiovisual antics, but sometimes technology does not cooperate with our intentions! (If you're just tuning in to our adventure, welcome, and know that there are some recently posted videos available for your viewing pleasure!)
Until next time, be well, be happy, and please do keep in touch!
With colder temperatures and strong winds forecast for the coast all weekend, we decided to retreat inland, heading to an RV park in Summerdale, Alabama, just 40 miles from Pensacola, Florida. As full-timers living in our RV, we're members of Escapees.com, an RV'ers co-op that provides discount RV parks, mail forwarding, and other services to full-timers. (Our legal address is actually at an Escapees park in Livingston, Texas, and that's where all of our mail now goes, so please email us for our address if you don't have it, and keep those cards and letters coming!)
So, we are now encamped at our first Escapees park, taking advantage of having a clubhouse where we can play pool and ping pong, watch movies, talk with other Escapees, and enjoy having an alternative place to hang out during this cold snap.
Staying at a campground in really cold weather can feel somewhat claustrophobic when there's nowhere else to go and the cold winds are howling, so being here relieves that concern, allowing us some breathing room and the ability to spend some healthy hours apart in a warm and comfortable space! (Tina is not allowed in the clubhouse, so we'll take turns and sometimes leave her alone in the rig, poor old girl.)
For now, our plan is to remain here at "Rainbow Plantation" for the weekend, catching up on emails, writing and phone calls, meditating, reading, playing pool and ping pong, and planning for the next leg of our adventure. On Monday, we'll have an oil change and lube for the ol' "Rigatina" (formerly known as "Scottie La Blanca"), and then head to the Alabama coast or northwest Florida coast for what promises to be a week of plentiful sun and temperatures in the 50s and perhaps 60s. Imagine that! Following our week on the coast, we'll then begin heading west through Alabama and Mississippi towards Louisiana, where we hope to visit some of Mary's extended family in New Orleans before our entry into Texas (which will become our legal state of residence forthwith).
In terms of our search for intentional community, our outreach to communities in Florida has not been terribly fruitful, perhaps due to the recent holiday season. Three communities have indeed responded to our inquiries, but two of them are still in the forming stage and are not yet up and running, and the other---the Kashi Ashram in Sebastian----was, alas, too far south for us to make the trek. We are now focusing our sights on intentional communities in Texas, and will soon begin reaching out to the ones that have piqued our interest (of which there are many).
We would love to post more videos for your enjoyment over the next few days, and it remains to be seen if we have the bandwidth to do so. Please know it's our clear intention to fully entertain you with our audiovisual antics, but sometimes technology does not cooperate with our intentions! (If you're just tuning in to our adventure, welcome, and know that there are some recently posted videos available for your viewing pleasure!)
Until next time, be well, be happy, and please do keep in touch!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The Journey Continues....With Alligators
Having left my kind and generous family behind in Atlanta after a week-long stay, we have now resumed our travels south, enveloped in a post-holiday glow (and perhaps an extra pound around the middle).
At any rate, we successfully made it to Fort Benning, Georgia, an army base where Mary and her family lived while her father was in Viet Nam for two tours. Fort Benning is an interesting place which is home to the controversial School of the Americas, currently known as The Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC), where many notorious Latin American dictators and soldiers have apparently received a rather unsavory education.
Controversy aside, we took photos and videos of several of Mary's former homes on the base, and Mary was able to reminisce about a special and poignant period of her childhood, and perhaps she will grace this blog with some of those photos and reminiscences in the days to come.
For tonight, we are cozily ensconced in an army campground in Fort Mitchell, Alabama, not five miles from Fort Benning.
The above photograph depicts a sign posted on a dock by the river where we took Tina for a sunset stroll as an almost Blue Moon rose in a crystal-clear sky over the silent river. (New Years Eve will indeed be a blue moon---the 2nd full moon of the month.) We did not see any alligators, but pictured them lurking lazily in the muddy waters below our feet. Creepy but exciting!
The above photograph depicts a sign posted on a dock by the river where we took Tina for a sunset stroll as an almost Blue Moon rose in a crystal-clear sky over the silent river. (New Years Eve will indeed be a blue moon---the 2nd full moon of the month.) We did not see any alligators, but pictured them lurking lazily in the muddy waters below our feet. Creepy but exciting!
Stay tuned for more updates, and perhaps an eloquent word from Mary about her return to this landmark of her itinerant and remarkable childhood.
----Keith
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Reading Bryson Aloud
Here's a pair of lovely sunset photos of Mary, sitting on the shore of Lake Gunterville, reading Bill Bryson's "A Walk in the Woods" aloud to Keith, who subsequently fell asleep with his mouth hanging open in a most unattractive manner (but there's no photo to prove it).
By the way, we highly recommend "A Walk in the Woods", our favorite laugh-out-loud book of all time!
By the way, we highly recommend "A Walk in the Woods", our favorite laugh-out-loud book of all time!
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Talladega National Forest
On our way to Georgia, we completed our visit to Alabama with a wonderful, sun-dappled hike through the Talladega National Forest.
Although we didn't make it to the top of Cheaha Mountain (the highest peak in the state) due to the approaching sunset and Tina's relative stamina, the hike was incredibly satisfying and beautiful, with natural springs, brilliant green moss, and deep forest silence.
Although we didn't make it to the top of Cheaha Mountain (the highest peak in the state) due to the approaching sunset and Tina's relative stamina, the hike was incredibly satisfying and beautiful, with natural springs, brilliant green moss, and deep forest silence.
Stopping at a scenic overlook, we met a friendly trucker (who goes by the handle "Deerslayer" on CB radio) who advised on local topography, driving directions, and use of the CB. Yet another kind southern soul with a gift for gab.
We left Alabama satisfied that we had experienced a lovely slice of its natural beauty, and duly impressed with the friendliness and kindness of its residents.
Monday, December 21, 2009
The back hills of Alabama
Winter Solstice
December 21, 2009
Disclaimer: In the second half of this missive a conversation is relayed that may be upsetting to animal lovers.
From our camper nestled in the friendly southern forest of tall pines trees, I walked along the edge of this magnificent lake. My dog, Tina, and I were en route to the campground office to pay for another day and night of state park camping in these here mountains of Northern Alabama where many beautiful white tailed deer roam freely, seemingly unphased by noisy humans--and even kind of friendly.
The sudden squawking of a great blue heron startles me as it takes flight across the water from its perch on the frosty pier that we approach, maybe even annoyed by our sudden presence. Last night Keith and I heard the sound of loons and this morning for the first time we watched a whole flock of pileated woodpeckers. Some were pecking so laboriously on one particular pine tree that they sent hand-sized chunks of pine tree bark flying. These birds depend on dead trees for their livelihood, both for food and nesting. The park rangers were busy at work felling dead trees while admiring the birds with me. Go figure. One ranger told me he’d seen a bald eagle today and I told him that Keith saw one dip into the lake and return to flight with a fish in its beak.
I asked the ranger about the duck-like birds that hang in large flocks on the water and rarely fly. He told me they’re Kooches. At first I thought he was pulling my leg, and then he said, “If you see them look like they’re huddling together and flapping their wings, you can bet it was an eagle. Eagles will swoop right down and take one off for dinner”. (Must be a local name for those birds speckled on the lake’s horizon, ‘cus I could not find ‘em online!)
At the camp office, I looked for a pot scrubber, found a basic green one, and browsed over the various sundry camping supplies, picking out a little souvenir for my niece whom we will see this week. Back outside, the office lady came out to smoke a cigarette with a tall, plump young man who makes smoking look downright good. Tina, as she so often is, was the catalyst for friendly conversation.
“That’s a real pretty dog,” the lady said as she extinguished her cigarette with her fingers.
“Thank you. She’s a good girl, a real trooper for an old gal of 14 years. Made it up the mountain and back yesterday”, I volunteered.
“Mine is 16 and got attacked by a German Sheppard on Thanksgiving Day. She was hurt real bad. The dog had her whole head in her mouth and wouldn’t let go.”
“Oh my God, how awful. Is she okay?”
“Well, she sits by the fire and I have to carry her in and out of the house. And she drools all out the side of her mouth when she eats and drinks.” she said, gesturing towards her mouth with her hands.
“How traumatic for both of you.”
“Yeah, then I had to shoot the Shepherd—and I am an animal lover, mind you. But she had pups and killed two of ‘em and then tried to kill ‘em all. So after she near killed Beauty, I grabbed my daddy’s gun and went out back. It took a few bullets to bring her down and she just wouldn’t die, so my daughter brought her gun and shot a full round in her. I swear that dog had the devil in her. She just wouldn’t die! That was really hard. And I am an animal lover".
“Of course it was hard. I am so sorry. You did what you had to do.”
The young man interjected, “If she woulda told me, I woulda done it. She was my dog after all, but she weren’t right, that dog had somethin’ seriously wrong with it alright.”
This is when I told the woman about Rescue Remedy for both her and Beauty, pulling the little vial out of my purse to show her, explaining how it works the best I could. She was determined to get some from a health food store and try it. I talked a little about post partum depression and psychosis in people and how some dogs can get that too, but she still swore it was the devil in that dog.
I walked away imagining that poor beast’s pitiful death and her old dog’s stapled up head which just made me feel plum sad. I also left our chat with an odd respect for how some people take such life and death matters into their own hands. Too bad the lady didn’t think it through better and call on one of her park ranger buddies to handle the dog in a more humane way. Makes me wonder if it is legal to shoot your pets in this state 'cus you sure can't pull an "Old Yeller" in Massachusetts.
Nothing like a good mountain hike with cascading falls, a cave to explore and rocky streams to cross to clear my head of this memory that I put aside for this evening’s blog post. This shortest day of the year ends with a gorgeous sunset over Lake Gunterville and the fragrant smells of Keith’s cooking. As for Alabama, I knew the place had character and a dark past, but I had not known there was such beauty to behold. I should have known better—and now I do.
Speaking of the former, some fellow campers just drove in, circling our camper in a frenzy of loud jeeps and trucks, brandishing confederate flags, and making me grateful for the fair color of my skin. But as the campers settle in and their benevolent sounding laughter rises up with their camp fire, they play guitars, sing Led Zepplin songs, and thankfully not Lynyrd Synyrd, so I reckon I'll let 'em stay. ;) Now, that's the Christmas spirit, eh? Never-the-less, I am feeling particularly grateful for Neil Young and Martin Luther King, Jr. down here in Alabama. Here's an apropos song which I played for my sanity after the hunters rallied in with their flags:
May we all enjoy the returning of the light and the many longer days to come!
~Mary
December 21, 2009
Disclaimer: In the second half of this missive a conversation is relayed that may be upsetting to animal lovers.
From our camper nestled in the friendly southern forest of tall pines trees, I walked along the edge of this magnificent lake. My dog, Tina, and I were en route to the campground office to pay for another day and night of state park camping in these here mountains of Northern Alabama where many beautiful white tailed deer roam freely, seemingly unphased by noisy humans--and even kind of friendly.
The sudden squawking of a great blue heron startles me as it takes flight across the water from its perch on the frosty pier that we approach, maybe even annoyed by our sudden presence. Last night Keith and I heard the sound of loons and this morning for the first time we watched a whole flock of pileated woodpeckers. Some were pecking so laboriously on one particular pine tree that they sent hand-sized chunks of pine tree bark flying. These birds depend on dead trees for their livelihood, both for food and nesting. The park rangers were busy at work felling dead trees while admiring the birds with me. Go figure. One ranger told me he’d seen a bald eagle today and I told him that Keith saw one dip into the lake and return to flight with a fish in its beak.
I asked the ranger about the duck-like birds that hang in large flocks on the water and rarely fly. He told me they’re Kooches. At first I thought he was pulling my leg, and then he said, “If you see them look like they’re huddling together and flapping their wings, you can bet it was an eagle. Eagles will swoop right down and take one off for dinner”. (Must be a local name for those birds speckled on the lake’s horizon, ‘cus I could not find ‘em online!)
At the camp office, I looked for a pot scrubber, found a basic green one, and browsed over the various sundry camping supplies, picking out a little souvenir for my niece whom we will see this week. Back outside, the office lady came out to smoke a cigarette with a tall, plump young man who makes smoking look downright good. Tina, as she so often is, was the catalyst for friendly conversation.
“That’s a real pretty dog,” the lady said as she extinguished her cigarette with her fingers.
“Thank you. She’s a good girl, a real trooper for an old gal of 14 years. Made it up the mountain and back yesterday”, I volunteered.
“Mine is 16 and got attacked by a German Sheppard on Thanksgiving Day. She was hurt real bad. The dog had her whole head in her mouth and wouldn’t let go.”
“Oh my God, how awful. Is she okay?”
“Well, she sits by the fire and I have to carry her in and out of the house. And she drools all out the side of her mouth when she eats and drinks.” she said, gesturing towards her mouth with her hands.
“How traumatic for both of you.”
“Yeah, then I had to shoot the Shepherd—and I am an animal lover, mind you. But she had pups and killed two of ‘em and then tried to kill ‘em all. So after she near killed Beauty, I grabbed my daddy’s gun and went out back. It took a few bullets to bring her down and she just wouldn’t die, so my daughter brought her gun and shot a full round in her. I swear that dog had the devil in her. She just wouldn’t die! That was really hard. And I am an animal lover".
“Of course it was hard. I am so sorry. You did what you had to do.”
The young man interjected, “If she woulda told me, I woulda done it. She was my dog after all, but she weren’t right, that dog had somethin’ seriously wrong with it alright.”
This is when I told the woman about Rescue Remedy for both her and Beauty, pulling the little vial out of my purse to show her, explaining how it works the best I could. She was determined to get some from a health food store and try it. I talked a little about post partum depression and psychosis in people and how some dogs can get that too, but she still swore it was the devil in that dog.
I walked away imagining that poor beast’s pitiful death and her old dog’s stapled up head which just made me feel plum sad. I also left our chat with an odd respect for how some people take such life and death matters into their own hands. Too bad the lady didn’t think it through better and call on one of her park ranger buddies to handle the dog in a more humane way. Makes me wonder if it is legal to shoot your pets in this state 'cus you sure can't pull an "Old Yeller" in Massachusetts.
Nothing like a good mountain hike with cascading falls, a cave to explore and rocky streams to cross to clear my head of this memory that I put aside for this evening’s blog post. This shortest day of the year ends with a gorgeous sunset over Lake Gunterville and the fragrant smells of Keith’s cooking. As for Alabama, I knew the place had character and a dark past, but I had not known there was such beauty to behold. I should have known better—and now I do.
Speaking of the former, some fellow campers just drove in, circling our camper in a frenzy of loud jeeps and trucks, brandishing confederate flags, and making me grateful for the fair color of my skin. But as the campers settle in and their benevolent sounding laughter rises up with their camp fire, they play guitars, sing Led Zepplin songs, and thankfully not Lynyrd Synyrd, so I reckon I'll let 'em stay. ;) Now, that's the Christmas spirit, eh? Never-the-less, I am feeling particularly grateful for Neil Young and Martin Luther King, Jr. down here in Alabama. Here's an apropos song which I played for my sanity after the hunters rallied in with their flags:
May we all enjoy the returning of the light and the many longer days to come!
~Mary
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Sunset on Lake Gunterville
Here's a photo of an amazing sunset over Lake Gunterville, Alabama. The sunset was our reward after we climbed the nearby mountain, snuck Tina into the lodge and sat by an enormous fireplace, taking advantage of the complimentary coffee in the hotel lobby.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Lake Guntersville, Alabama
We are now ensconced at Lake Guntersville State Park near Guntersville, Alabama, holding true to our promise to inch our way towards Atlanta. In fact, if you look at our National Geographic road atlas, we have indeed moved ourselves approximately two inches east.
Relatively short distances notwithstanding, the change of scenery is welcome. Although our last campground was lovely---with deodorizer-free bathrooms and friendly hosts---we now have an expansive view of Lake Guntersville from our dinette and our bedroom, and the negative ions from the wind blowing across the water are indeed refreshing.
We're aware that more than twenty inches of snow have fallen on Washington, DC, and my parents' homes in New Jersey are also blanketed in snow. Here in Guntersville, it's 39 degrees and very windy, and the temperature is expected to dip down to right around the freezing mark overnight. We feel deep compassion for our shivering friends and family in New England, and although they may envy our balmy 39 degrees, they certainly wouldn't envy how I had to thaw our sewer outlet pipe with a hairdryer last week at a North Carolina campground. Still, we're happy that so many people we love will enjoy a white Christmas and Solstice, as well as a wintry end to Hannukah!
Sewers and snow aside, I spied a great blue heron on the shores of the lake just after we arrived, and Mary was able to snap a lovely shot of some significantly tame deer as we entered the park. Also, I'm convinced that I saw a bald eagle snatch a fish from the lake as I walked along the shore just after we landed.
As I write, we are listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on the local NPR station, laughing along with Carl Kasell and Peter Sagal as the wind shakes our rig and the temperature drops.
Life on the road is treating us well, and we are indeed looking forward to Christmas with family following a relaxing weekend here in northeastern Alabama. We send our love and the greetings of the holiday season to all!
Relatively short distances notwithstanding, the change of scenery is welcome. Although our last campground was lovely---with deodorizer-free bathrooms and friendly hosts---we now have an expansive view of Lake Guntersville from our dinette and our bedroom, and the negative ions from the wind blowing across the water are indeed refreshing.
We're aware that more than twenty inches of snow have fallen on Washington, DC, and my parents' homes in New Jersey are also blanketed in snow. Here in Guntersville, it's 39 degrees and very windy, and the temperature is expected to dip down to right around the freezing mark overnight. We feel deep compassion for our shivering friends and family in New England, and although they may envy our balmy 39 degrees, they certainly wouldn't envy how I had to thaw our sewer outlet pipe with a hairdryer last week at a North Carolina campground. Still, we're happy that so many people we love will enjoy a white Christmas and Solstice, as well as a wintry end to Hannukah!
Sewers and snow aside, I spied a great blue heron on the shores of the lake just after we arrived, and Mary was able to snap a lovely shot of some significantly tame deer as we entered the park. Also, I'm convinced that I saw a bald eagle snatch a fish from the lake as I walked along the shore just after we landed.
Life on the road is treating us well, and we are indeed looking forward to Christmas with family following a relaxing weekend here in northeastern Alabama. We send our love and the greetings of the holiday season to all!
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Life IS good!
Today has been an easy transition from Central Tennessee to North Alabama, taking back roads, having no regrets, and taking our sweet time. Truly happy campers are we and this life on the road often feels really free. Tonight by our first fire in a while, we heard coyotes in the distance and imagined the wild hogs we were told live nearby! We were also warned not to let our little dog wander off, so as always, Tina is safely by our side, perpetual dependent that she is. She's attached to me here by her leash but leaning on Keith's leg as he took this picture:
I 'reckon' you can say we've made it to the deep South cus here we are in the back woods of Alabama. I reckon' you can also say that I am enjoying most all of this---the lifestyle, the freedom that goes along with it, the open road, the mountains, the pastures and meadows, the bare trees, the small things, the delightful surprises of the roads less taken, the changing scenery and cultures, the birds, the kind people, the soothing sounds of rushing streams, camping at the edge of an open field or in a forest, the many happy hugs, the relief of returning to friendly people and the gradually warming weather. I am so blessed and at the end of this day, we both can say we are content, grateful and at peace...
I 'reckon' you can say we've made it to the deep South cus here we are in the back woods of Alabama. I reckon' you can also say that I am enjoying most all of this---the lifestyle, the freedom that goes along with it, the open road, the mountains, the pastures and meadows, the bare trees, the small things, the delightful surprises of the roads less taken, the changing scenery and cultures, the birds, the kind people, the soothing sounds of rushing streams, camping at the edge of an open field or in a forest, the many happy hugs, the relief of returning to friendly people and the gradually warming weather. I am so blessed and at the end of this day, we both can say we are content, grateful and at peace...
Images From Rural Alabama
A Southern cotton plantation
A country store
A country church
A rural Alabama shack
(note Confederate flag on left)
A tree in a truck bed
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