March 15th & we're home

On the road again for the last day’s drive. It’s 6:17am, pitch black, foggy and rainy all of which conspire against us as we miss a critical split in the highway. I-81 goes off to the left and we’re in the wrong lane and end up going east. Another U-turn in a parking lot, back on the offending road going west and then north. Not long after we stop for gas, $2.53/gal.

The misty fog is a photographer’s dream. Dawn slowly brightens the sky in the east leaving the scenery in the west bathed in layers of mist, tree tops poking out like black brush. Oh for a 4x5 camera and black & white film.

Back on the road, the traffic is relentless; headlights spoil my scenery. As the highway cuts through the hills, patches of snow are now more frequent, a reminder that winter is not quite gone. The radio blares out the weather forecast – rain and snow. Who knows what is falling, but it’s wet, wetter still as each passing truck leaves us in a shower of blinding slush. I’m glad we didn’t take the time to wash the outside of the trailer like so many others were doing in the RV resorts. It seems that we are returning to Canada in much the same weather conditions as when we left, perhaps a bit warmer.

We’re climbing again, this time to 500 meters. How do I know? The GPS sensor tells me so, along with the longtitude, latitude, our speed, and a few other things. We level off at 532 m. and pass through a rock cut whose faces bear the driller’s signature. Elongated drips of frozen ice/snow decorate the surface.

An Award trailer passes us. Guess what? It’s my sister & her husband. We left Gulf Shores 2.5 hours ahead of them as they slept in that day. With a bigger truck & engine, Kent drives faster. I suspect we have been driving longer hours to have stayed ahead of them for so long. This is their last trip with the trailer as they have leased a condo for next winter. Right on the water in Gulf Shores.

We’re on the climb again, starting at 350m and down to 68kph, right behind a long tanker whose lights are flashing. I-81 is 3-lanes to accommodate this slow ascent. We only get to 449m this time before we descend at 92kph. This up-and-down routine will really reduce our gas mileage.

At 9:58am the state of New York welcomes us. Unfortunately the weather does not improve as a result. Syracuse is 78 miles away! I check the map to realize that we are probably within 4 hours of home.

Up until now we’ve been travelling in light showers. The precipitation has just changed dramatically. The countryside is suddenly covered in white. We encounter an even more dramatic event – a car upside down in the median ditch. One couple is standing at the roadside, another is just escaping from the vehicle. One lucky group of people.

The gas guage warning is bleating again. In Whitney Point we encounter $2.67/gallon and a snow plough. As we make our way back to I-81 we pass a Mobil station advertising $2.75/gallon.
I-81 greets us with its salty slush which quickly coats the windshield, car & trailer. Seems the return portion of our journey is going to echo our departure on the first of February. Well not quite as the local weather forecast predicts flooding.

Another car in the ditch with its companion recently loaded onto a tow truck. This is in the middle of a multi-signed area warning of icy road conditions, bright yellow such that you can’t miss them. Either they can’t read or they’re disbelievers. A hard way to learn a lesson.

The countryside is now completely covered in white, tree branches heavy with the wet snow. Our speed has been reduced by 20kph; traffic continues to roar past us. At 60 km south of Syracuse, this is going to be a long day.

The town of Cortland offers an unusual sight – a lone lifeguard chair high in the air supervising a flock of pigeons standing on the edge of a partially frozen manmade pond. Rock cuts have running water now under their snowy icicles. Ditches and small rivers don’t know whether to be frozen or not; the geese aren’t bothered.

At last the road is somewhat flat (roughly 320m altitude), the hills slowly receding from the highway. Rats! I spoke too soon. The approach to LaFayette, that's in New York, not Louisianna - , just south of Syracuse is again going up or going down, varying over 80m in height. Greatly improved road conditions, however, more than make up for this. The road surface is relatively dry and visibility even better as the snow showers have stopped. And the landscape is no longer completely white, but rather the dreary colours of late winter/early spring with the occasional highlight of snow on the north-facing hills. Even the sky has brightened substantially causing an additional brightening of our spirits.

We’re now on the eastern Syracuse ring road (#481). Countdown time: to Watertown (110km), over the international bridge to turn east on the 401 (the Montreal-Toronto corridor) another 50 km, hang a left northward at Brockville (40km) and home for the final 50km. I calculate ETA at 3:00pm

Mexico, New York, that’s the town that got 11’ of snow while we were in Texas. There’s a lot of melting to happen yet as the ground is completely covered with several feet of still-white snow. Compare that to Syracuse where there we saw only patches of the white stuff earlier this morning.

Back on I-81 the pavement is now dry from the heat of vehicle tires. Only the occcasional truck overtakes us. “Where have all the truckers gone?” I sing. Don’t know, don’t care as the driving is much easier. It feels like we’ve picked up speed, but we haven’t. 93kph it remains.

A rest stop. Not much resting going on here. No toilets, no shelter, and someone has turned the heat off; it’s 32F! The dogs take a quick drink and need no encouragement to hop back into the car.

Strange travelling companions ahead where a Brinks truck is very slowly over-taking a Seaway ambulance which passed us earlier. I trust there is absolutely no connection between this and our reception by Canadian customs. Our declared purchase receipts are carefully stored in separate his-and-her envelopes along with a list. We’re both well short of the limit. Is this good or bad I wonder. Oh, oh! some driver is in the process of getting a speeding ticket. I declare this to be a good omen just in case anyone is listening.

Speaking of listening, Al has finally got CBC on the radio. Ontario Today’s host is apologizing for yesterday’s on-air gaffe about International Pie Day, that's the mathematical one, not apple, lemon or whatever your favourite is.

Crossing the St. Lawrence is always a visual treat especially in the Thousand Islands area. Al’s eyes are glued to the immediate road ahead; he hates high bridges. I’m too busy admiring the scenery to be worried. On the island the rock cuts expose an amazing array of colours in the granite – shades of green, pearl, yellow & pink which remind me that spring is coming and with it more rocks for the garden.

Customs Control? Piece of cake and an additonal bonus – our man was pleasant. Now for the final test. What price gasoline in Canada?

Brockville, Ontario. My 93 year old father lives here in Sherwood Park Manor, a long-term care facility. On the spur of the moment I suggest we drop in. He will enjoy seeing us, the dogs and our filthy trailer. And even better, Al can take a photo of us.

March 14

6:27am (we lost an hour yesterday) #30 takes us straight through Knoxville. It’s pitch black out, the moon barely visible. It won’t be dawn for at least another hour. A bit of construction and constant lane changes keep Al on the alert.

An hour later dawn is indeed happening. Traffic has thined out. The highway is lined with two basic tree structures: pencil- and egg-shaped, both of which appear to have been trimmed, but are totally natural. Weather predictions call for rain, rain and more rain. Perhaps we can cover yesterday’s damage to the trailer with duct tape.

91.9FM (National Public Radio) San Francisco is planning a ban on the use of plastic grocery bags. Most people are in favour; others fear that the trend will spread to other cities. The US Federal Gov’t. wants to remove the bald eagle from the endangered list. Apparently their numbers have rebounded quite substantially with over 9,000 nesting pairs. Unfortunately 80% of their nests are on private property in the Chesapeake Bay area, so biologists are concerned. Check www.npr.org

At 8:30 we’ve just passed Jeoroldstown. I-80 takes us through rolling hills and farm country. We stop for gas and both dogs take exception to the 3 cows in the neighbouring field. Leila returns to eating her breakfast kibble; Gypsy is too distracted to eat more than a few bits.

8:55am and we cross over the 36th parallel into the State of Virginia. Some of the hills are completely covered in some sort of vine, completely choking the undergrowth with its hair-like structure. Fascinating, yet creepy, not unlike Spanish moss, but on a grander scale. It hangs over the sides of large boulders such that I imagine a faceless creature staring down at the traffic. I saw patches of the same yesterday in Tennessee. What is Virginia creeper? Is it any relation?

Finally the sun has broken through the clouds. Temperatures are in the low 60’s. I’ll have to try and remember what that means in Celsius.

The city of Abingdon offers a bit of everything – Dixie Pottery, a massive rug outlet, and a bird’s eye view of one of the local industries, a rock crushing plant. A mobile home park features a line of rural-style mailboxes all lined up and sitting side-by-side on one support. Shortly afterward a log home construction factory, only it’s all outdoors, complete with several cranes. A sample home sits on the hillside with its lower level made of brick.

Farm fields are very steep; cattle and sheep don’t seem to mind. Highway signs warn of falling rock. A while back two signs advertising wineries although I have not seen any grape vines. Grayson Highlands State Park & Mount Rogers National Recreation Area to the east and Hungry Mother State Park to the west. The scenery is beautiful. Sure beats Texas in that respect.

A transport truck with a sign that says ‘talking truck’ passes us. Al complains that it’s not talking. Merrilot is one of many heavy industries with plants alongside the railroad track. Leafless trees have numerous, unidentifiable sacks of ??? scattered amongst their branches. Tent caterpillars? Mountain Empire Airport and a landing strip alongside the highway. No action at the moment, but surely a distraction to drivers when there is.

Walmart Super Centre, the first in two days, just outside of Wytheville, Virginia closely followed by the usual chain restaurants, motels and gas stations.

I’ve just finished measuring the distance from here to Pennsylvania – approx. 400km, most of which is spent in Virginia, then a tiny portion in West Virginia and an even smaller section in Maryland as both these states have very peculiar state lines with ‘fingers’ jutting into each other’s logical territory.

There is no doubt that I-81 is a major trucking route as countless transports are visible on both sides of the highway at all times. One trucking company has St. Michael protecting its drivers. On our first long descent the transports (and everyone else) are literally whizzing past us. Another rest area with vending machines. Next one in 102 miles. The next ascent has us actually passing a transport with its flashers on. The surrounding forested areas appear dull and lifeless such that I am entertaining myself reading truck advertising. “For a successful.., join a career??, “if you can’t see me in my mirrors, I can’t see you”. Werner hires only safe & courteous drivers. This truck monitored by V-chip technology.

Daffodils are in bloom. This is the second roadside display I’ve seen. Spring cannot be that far away in Canada. Besides it’s also ‘spring break’ for students. Ah hah! Wild forsythia bushes have started to blossom.

We’ve been following a chain of high hills to the east in the Shenandoah Valley for about two hours now. Signs point to Endless Caverns, Luray Caverns, Shenandoah Caverns and other caves. The Shenandoah Skyline Tour sounds appealing, but not with a trailer. Mt. Jackson appears along with the Chesapeake Watershed in the Shenandoah River. On our left (west side) a number of varying-sized satellite dishes. Al thinks locals should get good TV reception. Seems this valley has vineyards and apples as well.

It’s 2:28pm and we’re still in the state of Virginia, almost 6 hours of driving. Another 70 km to West Virginia. Biggest water tower to date? Woodstock. That’s in Virginia, not Ontario, New Brunswick, Conneticut, Alabama, Illinois, Georgia, to name just a few other locations.

This highway is in very good shape and very smooth. Even the tire shrapnel is outstanding. With this kind fo truck traffic, I find it amazing that we’ve not seen any tires in the process of shredding, nor have we been hit by any. Knock on wood, I say. I just finished counting the number of trucks passing us on both sides of the highway in a 5 minute period. 58 transports, more of them heading south than north, and all of them at least 16 wheelers. Fed-Ex are nearly always double trailers and certainly move at ‘full steam ahead’. Their loads may be significantly lighter.

3:18pm West Virginia. Looks like Virginia .
3:58pm We’ve passed through Maryland and are now in Pennysylvannia.
5:00pm We stop for the night in Harrisburg (69 degrees) at our last Red Roof Inn. There’s no reason why we won’t be home at about this time tomorrow. Hold the snow, bring on the sun; we have a trailer to clean.

March 13

We don’t meet our 7am departure although 7:23 isn’t too bad, but the fog is. As we make our trash contribution to the dumpster, I notice that JA & Kent have yet to leave. They also planned to leave by 7. Hoping all is well, we leave the RV resort.

Our route home is quite simple. Highways 59/31 north to the intersection of I-65, past Montgomery. Somewhere short of Birmingham, Alabama we pick up another #59. Just short of the Tennessee border we cross the northernmost west corner of Georgia. South of Chattanooga we switch to #75 until Knoxville, T. That should complete our day. In the state of Virginia we transfer to I-81 going through the tiny northeast corner of West Virginia and the northwest corner of Maryland before entering Pennsylvania. The state of New York is next – Syracuse, Watertown, the Bridge and we’re home.

Looking at the map I am amazed at the irregular shape of some these states: Pennsylvania has many 90 degree corners while Virginia, West Virginia & Maryland poke their ‘noses’ into one another. I can’t help but imagine the negotiations that must have occurred in setting these odd boundaries.

Our departure is not as calm as we would like. Not far from our campsite, an ambulance siren, a distance behind us. No big deal until some car comes close to taking off our front left bumper off as she pulls into the curb with 2 police cars in hot pursuit. In the end we suspect that she is ‘told’ to follow them. The police escort her at a very sedate speed causing her to drive with one foot on the brake until they all pull into the local medical centre not much later.

In the middle of all this Al declares that he has no trailer brakes. “Oh good” I think. We pull off into a parking lot. Phew! The plug was not properly seated. Back on the road visibility is very poor and compounded by the fact that some cars don’t have running daylights, others with barely visible back lights.

Al notices the price of gas – the highest so far - $2.519. This was a hot topic on FOX news yesterday as they reported the average US price at $2.55. Our last fill was at $2.39. Our trip home may be a shorter distance, but it may cost as much. My friend, Mary, mentioned in one of her emails that gas is over $1.00 per litre at home.

Gas stop. $2.49 and another ding on the trailer as we go around the pump. Both sides are now damaged. I’m hughly annoyed, not at the accident (these things happen), but at the fact that my ‘advice’ was ignored, again. I just don’t get it! Shortly thereafter we pull into a rest stop to investigate the damage. The right rear corner molding is gaping exposing the trailer siding innards. ‘Please don’t let it rain’ I pray.

On a more pleasant note, we are pleased to see more flowering trees now – so far white (on the boring scale, 3/5), yellow (2/5) and an amazing pale purple which just glows in the sun and rates a 0/5. Remember, lower is better in this case. My tree book is at home, so I’m out of luck identifying them. The red maple continues to be as colourful as any flowering tree.

The dogs have finally settled in. I think they now know that the next few days will be a little stressful and just a bit boring. For the first few hours both were standing, Leila panting and Gypsy teasing me with her basketball. Oh yes! Good news about Gypsy’s chosen sire, Dreamer. He definitely carries the liver gene. We may have a pregnant puppy this summer if she passes the hip & eye tests.

I’ve not said much about the road. A while back we had a very brief session of lump ‘d lump causing me to remember I-10 all to vividly. Basically our route is a 4-lane grassed boulevard lined with tall pine trees. Lots of vehicles on the road, but not congested.

We’re nearing Birmingham where we turn slightly east on I-459 which then becomes #59. The place names are as confusing as the highway numbering system. I continue to be amazed at the lack of originality in naming cities. Perhaps I miss the point, but Birmingham is in England, Athens in Greece, Alberta in Canada. I want to celebrate names like Prattville, Tuscaloosa, Bienville & Talladega National Forests, Vrendenburg, all of which are also in Alabama.

Birmingham is a very large city with highways, byways & multi-layered overpasses to prove it. And we’re no where near the city as we skirt the southeast region. Boy Scouts of America, a statue of liberty and the American flag point us northward. Very impressive. The Pinnacle shopping complex sits well above us supported by a 30’ high retaining wall which in turn is sitting upon another 30 feet of landfill.

The white blossomed trees are more frequent now and in many cases very large and beautifully shaped. I’ve upgraded their status to a 1/5 on the boring scale. It helps that they have become the only visible blooms breaking up the monotony of the spindly pines. The ‘troops’ are out picking up highway debris, their beaten up school bus announcing their place of residence – Dept. of …

We stop at the next ‘rest’ stop, but it ‘shore ain’t restful’. Cars with trailers are asked to park with the big trucks. Only trouble is, their drivers leave the diesel engines running. But it’s not just the noise, it’s also the scent of urine coming up from the pavement. I’m told that truckers often pee into bottles so as to avoid having to stop. Whether they are emptying the bottles beside their rig or just peeing, it makes no difference to the olofactory sensors. This is not the first time we have encountered this phenomena, just the first time I’ve mentioned it.

Back on the road again, the pine trees have become smaller and bushier, their boughs heavily laden with pine cones. No Christmas decorations needed here. Their needles come in three shades of green indicating the growth stage: pale yellow-green, dark green, and a bright, almost lime green.

To my chagrin the roadbed has once again turned to washboard. The trailer gives us a double whammy, an unwelcome reminder of its presence. Most vehicles are now in the left lane; I suggest we move over. Not much of an improvement in my opinion. How about going faster, perhaps that will smooth out the jostling? No such luck. I don’t know what causes this, but Canadian highways are in better repair despite frost upheaval every spring. Well, OK, we do have potholes worthy of mention.

My sense of humour is such that as we lurge forward I wonder if a construction sign urging extreme caution due to bridge work means dodging UFO’s. The gods must have heard me ‘cause on the other side of the bridge the road improves, not substantially, but enough to take the edge off. Now I dare take a sip of my drink without worrying it would end up down my front or in other unmentionable places. Silently I add bendy straws to the trailer list of ‘must haves’.

Landscape colours should also include some mention of the exposed earth. In Gulf Shores we saw two colours – almost white sand and brick red soil. In northern Alabama, the colours are less intense, ranging from pale brick red to yellow sandy soil. The grassed fields are once again patchy, alternating between green & dead. We are well above sea level with lots of hills. Gradually the road is less flat with long slow climbs, but not enough to require another lane for us slow polks. Population is sparse, just us and the trees with the usual over-taking trucks.

Momentary panic. 13 km to NO gas. We pull off at the next exit which is advertised as the last gas stop for the next … Guess what? There are 2 gas stations all right. And both of the stations are in ruins! As we get back on the highway, another sign says Welcome to Georgia’. Where is the lighted red sign I saw? Finally a Pilot station (at $2.34/gal) in Rising Fawn only 3 miles away. I won’t need to tell you who was going to hitch-hike.

But I crow too soon. Sign on the retail door says ‘all bathrooms & showers closed for the rest of the day. Portapotties are available at the back’. And I thought the stench from the last rest stop was bad. I voice my concern to the cashier who says they are not their responsibility and besides the women’s rest room is open. Now they tell me. Who on earth decided toilets should be called rest rooms?! I yell silently.

I’m calmer now. I’m popping grapes and they are so cool and juicy, just what is required in the aftermath of a rant. Not nearly as good as what my friend, Doris, can deliver though.

The state of Tennessee and the price of gasoline drops to $2.29 at their Pilot station, no portapotties I bet! Hills are now mini mountains. I can see Lookout Mountain off to the east with multi-storied buildings perched right on the edge overlooking the valley below. This is #75 and it’s deliciously smooth. The Tennessee River appears on our left. Then a marker for the historic site of the Chattanooga Cho Cho. It was somewhere in this city where my sister & brother-in-law had their trailer broken into on their way to Gulf Shores.

On a postivie side Chattanooga has planted masses of trees most of which are covered in white blossoms. However the tall, off-white painted concrete highway barriers are now dirty gray and do much to dispel any visual pleasure.

At 5:28 (car clock) we reach the west end of Knoxville and another Red Roof Inn (pet friendly with a t-Mobile Hot Spot). We’ve driven 826 km in about 10 hours – not bad for the first day. Who knows? At this rate we may be home on Thursday, not Friday as I predicted. But then again who knows at what time since we have apparently changed time zones upon entering Tennessee, not to mention daylight savings time has happened somewhere, some place, some time. Perhaps one cancels out the other.

No matter the time Al has ordered a take-out barbecue dinner from Famous Dave’s, www.homeofthebigslab.com
and winner of over 200 awards, including ‘best ribs in America’ at the Great American Cook-off and ‘Best BBQ sauce’ at the American Royal Barbecue contest. It had better be good. That’s what I say.

Until tomorrow, I’m signing off. “Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” Did I tell you where this expression came from? Oh never mind!

March 11

Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge, south and west of our RV campsite, doesn’t allow pets on its trails. So, no stops to check out the various birding sites or Fort Morgan. #180 has Mobile Bay on the north and the Gulf of Mexico on the south. At the end is a ferry ride to Dauphin Island which in turn leads to a newly built causeway & bridge to the mainland.

A gang of brown pelicans are hanging out at the ferry launch point providing entertainment & photo opportunities. I love the way they fold in their wings, point their beaks and dive in face first. We humans raise our ‘wings’ above our heads to create the same stance. Their prey is not always fully inside their pouch when they surface. Something is squirming and whipping about. Long, shimmering, silverish, an eel possibily. From time to time there is a dispute as to who gets to ‘roost’ on the nearest pilings causing the unwanted pelican to fly off and gently land on the water, feet first.

The ferry ride, along the divide between Mobile Bay and the Gulf, is quite calm. Countless oil rig platforms dot the Bay, some with supply ships alongside.

Dauphin Island’s Bienville Blvd takes us to the most westerly point. This area is mostly ‘bien’ again having been very badly hit by Katrina. The debris is gone, only the occasional house on a serious tilt or piling remains. Newly constructed houses in pastel colours are high up on pillars with loads of open spaces (lots) in between. If it’s not for sale, then it’s for rent. Wall-to-wall housing is slowly returning.

We turn south off Bienville to get a better look at housing and the ocean. This particular road is not on our map and comes to an end despite the fact that there are more houses. A very large drift of sand completely blocks the roadway. The southern alternative to ploughing/shovelling snow. Retracing our route, we continue west to the very end, a narrow turnabout with far too many ‘no parking’ signs. The Gulf is no longer visible due to a very tall sand dike being created by two steamshovels on the oceanside. One property owner has constructed a staircase to get to the ocean. Recycled Christmas trees are the anti-erosion choice to control the sand drifts, sometimes outlining properties with no houses.

March 10

Some of the park's azaleas and 'big' rigs. Today is Al's birthday. He had a nap and I went to the Tanger outlet mall in search of a book. Ended up with two good ones, written by ordinary military folks who were in the bookstore to sign them. Sort of autobiographical stuff which seemed appropriate as Al has been telling 'tales' at our happy hours with my sister and brother-in-law.

March 9

Today we have decided to split up. Al will go the Naval Air museum in Pennsacola with Kent, my sister’s husband who has probably been there 3 times so far.
In the morning I go to Curves which is a very small outlet meaning you have to do 2.5 circuits. Back home it is only 2. I learn that the lady on duty is not a local, but comes to this area for three months. In addition to working at Curves, she does machine embroidery for hire.
My next stop is a patio furniture store which does carry Lloyd & Flanders. The sales clerk thinks they might have a Mandalay rocker at one of their stores. You may wonder why I’m looking here. To make a long story short, a shop in Brockville was to order a rocker, chair & footrest. Each time I stopped in (‘cause they never called me), I was given another story so I gave up on them. I find a metal pelican for Jacky; probably a bit too folksy. On my way back to the trailer I stop in at another store, but no rocker and no pelicans.

After lunch I pick up JA (short for Jacky Anne), and we return to look at the metal pelican. I was right – too colourful and not the right look she’s looking for. However we get directions to another store which carries original artwork. And indeed they do. I see a racku geiko, but leave him behind. A ceramic pelican is far too expensive to put outside on JA’s dock so we move on to find a tackle store. JA wants to buy some fishing line for her beading. I end up buying some too on her recommendation.

We finally head for the big outlet mall – Tangers where we store hop. I love Chico’s and drool over a gorgeous Japanese-style jacket which, in the end I don’t buy as I cannot find the corrdinating top & pants. After too many women’s wear stores, I finally settle on a pair of capris – plaid, no less, but beaucoup fun. At that point we call it a day and return to the RV resort to find that Al & Kent have just returned. Good timing.

March 7

Alabama shipyard







Up periscope


















USS Alabama, a battleship

Drum, a submarine

The Alabama again which was hit in Katrina and apparently had a list that took some 3 months to pump.

March 6

Sort of a ‘wait ‘n see’ day as we have not planned anything. Well except that Jacky & Kent (my sister & her husband) will pick us up at 1:00 to go for lunch.

Al needs a haircut, the car needs washing. And I need some thread to repair his cordoroy pants that were mysteriously ripped. Add that to the list of the trailer mishaps.

Off we go. Our first Walmart nets me a pair of cut-offs (capris, if you wish), some lip balm (they are soooooo happy now), but no thread. The car gets a wash! thank goodness. I have read that some Walmarts have eliminated their fabrics and this is one of them. No fabric = little to no thread. Finally we encounter a barber shop. And guess what? There is a Curves. In I go to inquire, as of course I have managed to leave my travel pass in my gym pag at home. No problem. A little fax here and a little fax there, and I’m set for tomorrow.

Back at the ranch (so to speak) and I decide that a little exercise is on order. The RV resort has a very large pool; I’ll do some lengths I think. This is a great opportunity to model my bright turquoise crocs which just happen to match my swim cover. Oooh lala!

I trot off to the outdoor pool via my sister’s camper to invite her to go with me. As it turns out she is off at her beading class. I should have known when the first gate to the pool has a padlock. But no I merrily proceed to the far gate and gain entrance. I disrobe, carefully place my unread copy of La Belle Armoire & towel on a lounger and proceed to dip my toe. OOOh La la! Ice cubes would be happy in this pool!! But I persist and suceed in immersing my body. Later I learn that there is an indoor swimming pool which I somehow have missed.

When I return to the camper, no one is there including the dogs. Al is obviously visiting with my brother-in-law. The camper is locked and of course I have no key. No matter. I settle into a collapsible chair, turn my face upwards and bask in the warm sun and read about impossible (or so it seems) sewing, embellishing, …

JA & Kent arrive and help tie down the awning in case a wind comes up. The dogs will be in the trailer, so the awning helps keep it cool. Off we go to seafood lunch & tour along the beach. On the way home we stop by the local alcohol store as I have a fancy for a G&T and …

Upon retiring to my sister’s trailer, I get to see some of her latest beading endeavours, we rehash the day’s events and laugh at some of Al’s stories from his tour in Somalia.

At 5:10 Leila gives us the word (two very quiet barks) that dinner is 10 minutes late. We are obedient dog owners and respond appropriately

March 5

We had frost last night. The inside trailer temperature hovers around 34, barely above freezing. Turning on the tap produces a mere trickle due to ice in the water lines. We’re lucky.

At 7:15am we’re off - Gulf Shores, Alabama via Mississippi under a clear, cloudless sky. Navigation today is a no-brainer. I-10 going east continues with teeth-chattering, washboard pavement.

This route takes us over the Atchafalaya Basin once again; we’re north of Patterson where we took the swamp tour. To cross this area the roadway is elevated as well (see…). First it is a very watery swamp, then more water than swamp, then Lake Bigeaux and Atchafalaya River and then back to swamp.

Our second bridge, this one over Whisky Bay pilot channel. A tugboat is pushing a massive, low-lying barge containing tall heaps of crushed rock.

Travelling at this height gives a bird’s eye view of the local trees, many of which are in the process of leafing out. The red maple is particularly colourful; I’ve yet to take a picture of the leaves. Immature green leaves glisten in the morning light. At the 30 km mark the elevated roadway comes to an end.

The state of Mississippi … this section got obliterated by my not-so-smart laptop. Guess it didn’t like being propped up on end and in front of the vent that was causing my feet to freeze.


Crossing into Alabama, a sign announces the govenor’s name which I’ve forgotten. We are given a good view of the Alabama Shipyards and then the USS Alabama battleship. A few minutes later we are crossing Mobile Bay on a causeway. The tide is out and the birds are feeding in the mud flats. A white pelican flies overhead.

Shortly we take exit 44 and head due south for the coast, east of Mobile and Bon Secour Bays.

Travelog - Day 32, Mar.4

We drove to Lake Martin, just south of Breaux Bridges to see the largest rookery of ibis in the world. Well it seems that we are treated to egret nests. But then it's hard to say since they are so far away. We chatted with a couple from California who had just seen two nutria, beaver-like but the size of a large rat. We couldn't find them sleeping in the swamp. However we did see this rather tall, 3-storey structure with widow's walk on top. The signs told us not to get out of the car due to 'gators so the photo was taken from the driver's window. In this case, Al.

Travelog = Day 31, Mar.3

Today's adventure is a swamp tour with Cajun Jack ($25 per person)
http://www.cajunjack.com/

But first of course, a closeup of 'Miss Gypsy'



Ten foot lock leading to the main part of the river which can be up to 180' in depth.



A small river fatality




Bald eagle flying. There were probably a dozen of them, but none willing to 'pose'

What is known as a swamp camp. This one complete with 70's stove.

Alligator of the day. Our fourth one to date.

Another swamp camp, this one with air conditioning. Power via generator. Note the out building on the right on very high stilts as the water can rise as much as 10 feet.

A great egret, largest of the egret family. You'll notice what look like stumps in the water. Not so. You've heard of 'bees' knees', well these are 'tree knees' which apparently in 450 years will be trees themselves.

Trunks of the cypress can be quite large.

Spanish moss highlighted in the sun.

This bald eagle stayed stayed put for me.

We pass by some pretty luxurious houses on our way back from the main river which is 50 feet deep.

Shrimp boats.

I thought this house on a barge gave new meaning to 'house boat'.

Another 'wreck' left to disintegrate.

If you look closely, you will notice the high water mark (dark areas) on the trees, roughly 5 feet.