Get Fuzzy

Monday, Dec. 9, 2013

There was a lot of fog and rain in the early morning hours on this day of our departure from New Bern, North Carolina

KOA.  This didn't dampen our moods though.  We casually planned our coffee run and our showering time.  Only minor odds and ends to do.  Our departure was delayed when the Nomad decided not to start because of a drained battery.  We called Good Sams Roadside Assistance and they came within fifteen minutes to jump start us.  We became anxiety stricken as tensions ran high with Dave and I.  The tone was set for the rest of the day.

We pulled out of the campground shortly thereafter, gassed up and headed south on US Rte. 17.  We drove for an hour and entered Jacksonville when the engine roared at us.  I asked Dave, "...what are you doing?" "I'm not doing anything", he replied. "I have no idea why the Nomad is sounding like this." We continued for a few more miles until we found a safe place to pull over. It was at an Exxon Gas Station.  There was a road service man there fastening a car onto the tow truck. We didn't know if this was a good sign or not.

Undaunted, I went over to him, "Excuse me," I said. "We are driving that RV and it began to roar at us. I was wondering if you could look at it?"  "Sure, ma'am," he replied as he followed me back to the Nomad. Dave opened the hood and said, "I'm not sure what's up, but it sounded like a roar. Like the fan is about to take off." Jim, who was about 20 yrs. old replied, "Sounds like your transmission to me, especially if you've been driving for several hundred miles. These old Chevy's are known for it - especially when they put those junk 4 speed overdrive automatic transmissions behind them. You can come to our garage for a full diagnostic," as he handed Dave a business card. Dave explained that we'd only driven 50 miles so far that day and the transmission was in fact an older 3 speed transmission in the Nomad with no overdrive. "Yeah - you don't even have a transmission cooler on this rig. That will blow out those weak transmissions in no time."

Dave and I sat in the cab of the Nomad for a few minutes trying to decide what to do. Dave was not impressed with the young tow truck driver, as he tended not to listen to us... at all. Then Dave went into the store to try to get more names of auto mechanics in the area. I had remembered seeing a place that we passed right up the road about a half a mile or so called Parkers, so we turned around and drove there. Irwin, a 70 year old man in overalls and looked like those mechanics portrayed in the movies, came out to listen to the engine. Without taking it for a ride, he tried to diagnose the situation as best as possible. He said it could be the fan clutch or the transmission. "I really don't know what to tell ya. You could drive down the road until something fails - then you'll know what's really wrong with it," he advised.

By this time, we had also called our oldest daughter Meg, who is a top notch ASE mechanic. She, like Irwin, said it was impossible to diagnose over the phone. She also agreed that someone, at some repair shop, will HAVE to test drive it in order to get a better idea of what is ailing our RV.

We left Irwin's garage feeling bewildered.  We drove about a mile and a half before Dave put on the brakes and turned right into a neighborhood, fearing it to be the transmission. "Hear that?" Dave told me. "It's not shifting into 3rd gear the way that it should.  I'm going back to the RV campground we saw down the road. We can spend the night there and figure this out in the morning." I replied, "Honey, I am not a mechanic. I don't have a clue about these things.  It's ok with me whatever you decide."

He got back on the highway and went to the RV park we passed.  In the office, two women, Tiffany and

Michelle, were very helpful in checking us in and then recommending a local transmission technician.  We found our site, pulled in and hooked up our electricity, then we went for a walk in order to breathe again.  Both of us were fretting the worst case scenario.  We met a work camper while out and about from Bangor, Maine.  His name was Mark and he was quite pleasant.  He gave us more info about work camping from his experience, what owners expect and what we may encounter.  Mark was a jovial man.  He described his annual jaunts as being here in NC for 5 weeks, then moving on to Texas for the winter, and back to Bangor next summer.  He found the campgrounds he liked working at and has kept them.  He also said, "Things aren't as bad as they seem."  He was a very positive influence on us and I felt calmer.

I slept soundly until the 5a.m. traffic on the highway began.  Dave hardly slept at all.  The nightmares of a failed transmission plagued him. Mark was outside painting the bath house a cheerful pale yellow around 9a.m. "How'd you sleep?" he inquired. "Ok, but Dave didn't.  We think we might have a failing transmission and we're in no position to fix or repair something that expensive right now.  We are between jobs.  We are hoping and praying for a cheap, easy fix." "Don't worry.  It'll be ok," he said smiling as I turned to walk away.  I was comforted again by his calm, easy manner.  To those of you out there who know me well - you know how easily I get stressed. For those who know Dave real well - you know how well he hides his stress. Not many people can tell when he's scared, but I can.  It's not often that we are both scared about the same thing at the same time.

I think it was finally hitting both us & we had to be prepared for whatever would happen today. The Nomad is our house on wheels - it is the only mode of transportation we have. If the transmission was failing, Dave knew it would be a minimum of $1500 to repair or replace along with a few days of down time. Since we couldn't afford that, we would have to exercise other options; like storing - or much more likely - selling the Nomad somehow, somewhere, and renting a car to get to our next destination, wherever that would be.

We prepared to go, warmed up the Nomad and headed off in the direction of Floyd's Transmission Shop also in Jacksonville a few miles away.  Upon finding the place, we turned in and continued down a narrow driveway and out back to the garage where Floyd conducts his business.  I hopped out, so Floyd could get behind the drivers seat. Dave took my seat and off they went for all of five minutes before returning.  Floyd then proceeded to get his creeper, crawl under the Nomad and began tinkering.  He drained some of the transmission fluid which was a cherry red color -- Dave said, "Yeah, the fluid color is perfect. It's not dirty or burnt."  Floyd checked a few other things and even he started looking concerned. Then Floyd came to the front of the Nomad and lifted the hood.  He checked a few more components and then he tinkered with the fan. "I'm certain it's your fan clutch. Do you want me to put in a new one?"  Dave replied, "Well, how much is it?"

Floyd quoted the price with labor - which came to our last dollar.  We'd have no more gas money and would not make it to my friend Cindy's house in southern Georgia - we could make it to Myrtle Beach South Carolina, which was still over 130 miles away, but then what? I began to explain this to Floyd. "Can you pay for the part?" "Yes, we can." Dave replied. I volunteered, "Would you take an oil painting in trade for your labor?" "A what?" he asked.

"I'm an oil painter and we have some paintings with us. Let me get out my portfolio to show you." I ran out back and got it and returned to him, "Do you like moose?" "Yeah," he replied.  "Good, I have a moose painting I think you'd like. It looks better than this picture of it. Dave, go get the moose, please." After seeing the framed work, Floyd agreed to barter the painting for his labor.

Floyd called for the new clutch. When it arrived, he began the three hour process of removal of the old part, and replacing it with the new one.  Dave ambled around taking random shots of motors as well as other antique parts that were lying around and muscle cars and other auto-mobilia.  I read a good book I was involved in and also found a new friend in a tiger cat named Fuzzy. After a while, Floyd's wife, Eleanor, came out and joined me at the cement table.  We got to talking and I showed her my art.  She ended up purchasing an ocean painting so we replenished the money we spent on the part and that would allow us to definitely get to Georgia. This was a marvelous blessing and a boost to my art career.

What could have turned out to be the end of our journey turned out to be another beginning.  With a sigh of relief we departed in the pouring rain and blustering wind to find our way to the nearest Walmart to park for the night.  We texted our children, then went to Subway for dinner. (Thanks Helene for the gift certificate! It was highly appreciated!)

I had on my colorful rain boots and enjoyed puddle stomping.  Passersby complimented me for having them on.  I figure, if you're going to be out in dreary weather and looking down, might as well look at something that will cheer me up! We headed over to the Walmart as David's meager wardrobe of one pair of jeans, one pair of dress pants and one pair of shorts bothered me to the point of no return.  I have five totes of clothing as well as a large suitcase. He doesn't have any totes - all his clothes fit into one suitcase. Yes, I got a full-blown case of guilt. But as Dave kept telling me - he had jobs over the years where they provided him with uniforms, whereas I needed clothes for my job. We eventually made it to the men's section and Dave found a couple pairs of black jeans and some shirts to wear with them.  Merry Christmas, Love!

We shopped; well, sort of - beginning in the Christmas decorations section browsing the ornaments and

trees.  I did find two small trees I liked.  We pressed onward as I have to rethink what Christmas means to me especially with such small living quarters.  Do I waste money on throw away stuff - as we have no storage space left unless I ditch all the paintings I brought with me.  We did bring one ornament with us - a golden decorated word - JOY.  When I look beyond the tinsel and glitter of this Holy Day - Christ was born - the birth of my Savior.  In that alone, I am joy-filled.  It is my hope that all our friends in the reader world would become joy-filled, too.  This joy isn't just for a season, it lasts a lifetime no matter what else is going on in your life: there is joy.

After our extremely small shopping spree, I had a case of "like mother, like daughter..." We got a call from our youngest, Catherine.  She'd had an extremely challenging day, was exhausted and needed to be heard.  I'm glad the lines of communication are open between us!  She began with, "I know God never gives us more than we can handle, but this is a doozer!" she began...

She was over-whelmed and needed to vent and cry.  Her feelings needed an outlet. Crying is not a weakness, contrary to popular belief.  It is actually a way to heal your inner self and a strength that helps us to become whole.  There are certain life circumstances that we don't understand like: Why do good people have to suffer and why do children die?  We can never have full comprehension of God while we are here on Earth.  All we can do is to let go of our worries and concerns.  God can handle it all if we get ourselves out of the way.

When I'm hungry, angry, lonely and tired - I can't think straight.  I have to take care of myself before I can be of any use to anyone else.  The issues are many, but I am only one person.  Yet with God, nothing is impossible.  Let it go- and God steps in (even if it is only to offer you peace and comfort to see you through the moment.)  Being on Earth in the school of Love has many tests.  You only fail if you quit trying.  You have to keep praying and making choices. The choices aren't always easy, but we keep pressing on with our journeys.

Until next time,
The Relieved Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave

On an Expedition

First off, we are apologizing in advance for the delay in getting the latest blogs up on the board. Between traveling, contacting campgrounds, packing up & all the other daily details involved in living on the road, sometimes there just isn't enough time to blog. Sometimes there isn't even an internet connection where we're staying for the night. It is what it is.

Continuing onward - it's the Sunday after Thanksgiving and we feel like we're witnessing Moses with the mass exodus.  The long holiday weekend is over. Everyone has to go back to school and work on Monday.  The motor-home beside us is warming up. A lady across the way is sweeping their fire dome. The showers and facilities are in high usage. The office worker upon hearing the bit about a problem with the bathroom toilet responded, "People are pigs."

We were at a bonfire the night before (Saturday), where Brian instructed Rick (two people who work here) on what to say to people today: to the men say, "...Mourning" with a sad face, and to the women say, "Good Morning" all cheerful and smiling.  Brian then continued to expound on the rituals of camping life as they prepare to leave.  "The women will be running all around eagerly cleaning their site and packing, while the men will dawdle trying to extend their stay as long as possible.  After a break from work they want to prolong their stay as much as possible. I even heard one lady yell at her husband, "HURRY UP! YOU'RE MOVING TOO SLOW!"  He laughed at the memory of it.

Websters dictionary defines an expedition is a journey with a particular purpose.  Our goal was to go south until April.  We have succeeded in the go south part.  Our challenge now is to be able to sustain ourselves and make money to go back north.  Part of that process is to obtain a job and/or an income.  To continue from our previous "Escapades" blog-
I returned to the day care center on the Monday after Thanksgiving.  The sun was bright as well as my outlook until I walked in and had the following conversation with the owner:
 - "Is LaShawna here?"
 - "No, she was fired," she replied while swaying with a sleeping child in her arms.
 - "My name is Jill Langdon and I've left my resume here with LaShawna two weeks ago."
 - "Do you have any early childhood certifications?"
 - "No."
She turned out the door and walked away down the hallway.

There we have it - no job - and no upcoming phone call from LaShawna.  The good news is that I found out instead of waiting.  The bad news is that I felt kicked in the stomach and couldn't breathe.  Fear enveloped me - darkness clouded my thoughts - Now what?

Dave had a lead on a job at a KOA campground out on Cape Hatteras North Carolina. The manager of that

campground suddenly back-peddled and reversed on his offer. We were pretty ticked at the time, but realize now that we were being taken care of. Turns out, a few days ago on December 3rd, the state closed the Bonner Bridge (which is the only way to get from the upper Outer Banks to Hatteras Island) without warning due to the discovery of extreme erosion problems with the sand that surrounds the bridge columns. No one knows how long the bridge will be closed. The only way off that section of the Outer Banks is by emergency ferry. The Nomad is too big & heavy for the ferry. We would have been stuck out there... for who knows how long.

Also that week, for a day or so, Dave and I toyed with the idea of staying here in New Bern because the campground manager strongly hinted that one of the workers would get fired. However, time passed and again nothing. With two days to spare before our paid up site is done, David found two companies that might work for his personality.  One is a good campground in Georgia, the other is a sales position where we can choose where we want to go and stay for two weeks. Dave is an excellent manager and salesman when he believes in the product or company.  He'd be on his game, and he seemed pretty excited when he told me about it.

I don't mind traveling, but having the cash to do it helps!  The goal of being a happy camper is to be happy at what you are doing.  On the 9th of December we are hitting the road for Georgia to my friend Cindy's house.  This other campground is very close by where we'll be landing again, so either way David can begin a new job and I will have the peace and quiet to paint and write.  We later saw a t-shirt with a stick figure reclining in front of a camper that said, "Life is good." Yes - life can be good.

I truly believe that it is.  Life is what you make it.  Choices abound to live in misery or to soar.  We choose to make the most out of the opportunities presented to us.  I am reminded of movies like: The Traveling Salesman, and The Music Man where he had the kids use the THINK method to learn songs -- Think money flowing into our pockets.

David has been told, "You can sell anything to a chair," and "even ice to an Eskimo".  Dave has many fine qualities, talents and interests.  To name them all is to write a book. When he puts his whole heart and soul into it, his talents shine. We'll let you know how things work out.

The purpose of this expedition is to improve the quality of our lives.
The Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave

Let's Talk Turkey!

First of all - Happy Thanksgiving! America is the first country to make a National holiday for giving thanks.  The tradition began because one woman, Sarah Josapha Hale, persistently wrote (for 15 years) to numerous presidents, circa 1850 onward, in order that it be established.  Abraham Lincoln instituted it as an American custom.  This custom is in remembrance of the first harvest feast between the Native Americans and the Pilgrims.  They blessed their feast with a grace that went something like this: "We thank God for our homes, food, and safety in a new land.  We thank God for the opportunity to create a new world of freedom and justice. Amen."  What do I have to be thankful for?

The campground we're currently staying at, holds an annual Thanksgiving dinner. It's pot-luck style where whomever signs up to attend, brings a holiday dish of some sort. Brian was in charge of getting the turkey, hams, rolls & pies. On Tuesday, the count of people coming was around 40.  By Thursday afternoon, it was over 80.  The hall only holds 60 people. The people who checked in on Wednesday and Thursday were told about the dinner, but not told to bring something.  Three factors saved this meal from being ruined; One, someone had the wherewithal to ration the turkey and ham portions; Two, the first tables to be served didn't hoard food; Three, the ones who did bring casseroles and other dishes brought enough to feed an army.  Initially, there was some concern that there wouldn't be enough food, but enough was left not only for seconds, but also take home plates.  Cooperation, on everyone's part, made what could've been a very chaotic situation become orderly.

The week prior to Thanksgiving was full of turkey talk--how many ways have you tried to cook a turkey? There's deep frying it, smoked, baked, and new to us - "trashcan turkey"

How to make a trashcan turkey:
 - First, wrap your turkey in aluminum foil, then make a fire in a safe place on the ground. 
 - Second, when the fire is just hot coals, place a stake with the turkey on it in the center and cover it with a new trashcan. 
 - Third, heap more hot coals on top as well as around the bottom of the trashcan.  We were told that within an hour and a half, a 15 pound turkey is done, is succulent and juicy as it peels easily off the bone.  Bon appetite!

Talk around the campground also centered on Christmas and the doing away with Black Friday. Most everyone agreed that in the corporate world and their quest for more money, the big box stores have shot themselves in the foot.  By putting out much of the Christmas paraphernalia just after Halloween, and having "pre-Black Friday" sales, the stores are starting to take the rush out of shopping the day after Thanksgiving.  Consumers don't have the urgency like they used to for Black Friday sales.

Haven't we lost the true meaning of Christmas?  Christ came to heal our relationship with God.  He was the perfect sacrifice for our sins. God is pure love and couldn't mingle with sin.  Christ is love incarnate in order that we may learn love. The Christmas of our hearts would become an everyday sacred practice. Wouldn't it mean more to our family and friends if we were "present" in our daily rounds for one another? Gifts wouldn't be necessary and stuff wouldn't pollute our world. We would all have what we need and even poverty might be alleviated if people would share their wealth instead of hoarding it.

I am thankful for my family and friends. I'm thankful for our Nomad which has kept us warm and dry.  I'm grateful for the Southern fare that accompanied our turkey and I'm grateful for watching Charlie Brown's Thanksgiving where I was reminded that it's not what is being served, but the company you are with.

We called our children and talked with them for about an half an hour each. The two youngest grandchildren were with their daddy for the day.  The two older ones had quite a take on Thanksgiving.  Tristan talked to us at length about the families day- watching the Macy's parade and going out with his dad in the morning.  Apparently, Alyssa couldn't come to the phone because, "I'm cooking!" she told her mother.  For our granddaughter, Thanksgiving is all about the feast.  We imagined her with an apron on in the kitchen with her daddy making deviled eggs, crab tarts, and many other types of goodies.

We wanted to bring lobster rolls or lobster salad to the campgrounds' feast, but couldn't find a lobster here. 

We managed to bring New England cranberry sauce though.  We read that the original feast had foul- not limited to turkey, also duck and goose.  The cranberries and blueberries were in their natural form. Squash and pumkin (sorry, no pies yet ).  Fish and shellfish were plentiful.  Walnuts and spices flavored the turkey. (No potatoes, or gravy or stuffing.)  Onions, beans, spinach, cabbage, and carrots were on the table. Corn was actually made into mushy cornmeal and possibly flavored with molasses.  Fruits- plums and grapes were abundant. Lastly, there was venison cooked on a spit. According to legend, the Native Americans brought five deer to the feast.

The first feast would have been like a big campfire with basic but not boring fare.  Dave met a man today who just received his RV from an aunt.  It was a fairly old model like ours, but had lots of work done to it. He only had it for 2 days - he was a nervous wreck, but excited to have it.  When David told me about him, I remembered the man from Turkey (the country) who sold us the Nomad and his father who told me, "Don't worry, it will get you where you have to go."

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Escapades

An escapade is defined as an act having daring, excitement or adventure.  We are parked now, so what kind of excitement, daring or adventure can you find at a sleepy campground that's batting down the hatches for what the locals call "winter"?

The job hunt is in full swing.  We were originally headed for St. Marys Georgia for a camp worker job, but those positions were filled by another couple by a campground owner who lacked any patience and just couldn't wait for us. We then had a lead that was out on Cape Hatteras, but that manager changed his mind at the last minute. After being told there were no camp jobs available at this moment, Dave applied to more than thirty places online and about ten jobs he can walk to.  Jill applied to only one- Living Waters Daycare Center for children.  This center is about two blocks from the campground and in walking distance.  Lashawna, the office assistant, told me her story and how she stepped out in faith to get her job as well as in starting the center.  She kept repeating that with my Bachelor's Degree the center could receive a five star rating and attract more clients. Needless to say, she wants to hire me.  She knows a five-year-old boy who needs more help with his letters and numbers.  He's currently in another program and you'd be good working with him.  She then handed me the job application to fill out and return.

I went back the following day and met the Assistant Director, Martianna. "You came back!"  she said excitedly as she snatched the paper from me.  At that point, I was unsure what to think - how many potential employment opportunities do you run across where that sentence is the first thing out of someones' mouth? She told me she'd have Lashawna call me later with the other forms and certificates I'd need to bring in.  The phone call never came. I walked there the next day with my birth certificate, social security card , driver's license and references only to find out their copy machine didn't work.  The rest of the office was disorganized chaos. I decided to wait for their phone call now.  I stepped out in faith, but I also need a job I can physically do.

In the meantime, Pat, the campground manager, left for a convention in Texas and then on to spend Thanksgiving with her grandchildren in Virginia.  The very next day, we were invited to dinner and a rousing game of cards to be held in the community center only a campsite away from us. I guess when the manager is away, the workers will play! Brian Wescott organized the whole event.  He came over with Jenny (who is a long term camper here) who said we'd be her guinea pigs with this new Mexican Stuffed Shells she was planning to make.  It would be her and her husband, Fred, Brian and his girlfriend, Lisa, another work camper Betsy and her husband Rick along with Dave and I.

Jenny is quite a crock-pot cook.  She scours recipes and loves to cook.  She also made an apple crisp for dessert.  She decided the stuffed shells were too much work, but was pleased with her effort.  They were tasty and everyone participated in the daring of trying something new.

After dessert, Rick cracked out a deck of Five Crowns. Only Betsy & Rick had played before and Rick tried to explain the rules to us all.  They were simple enough.  The game begins with three cards.  The threes and jokers were wild in the first hand. The object of the game is to get a run in the same suit or three of the same number and to end up being the person with the least amount of points when that hand (and game) is over. I bombed the first hand accumulating thirty-one points, Dave got zero.

The next round increased to four cards and fours were wild with the jokers.  The first person to go out had to use up all of their cards and then the rest of the players had to scramble to see what they could lay down to eliminate some of the points in their hand. On a couple of rounds where the players had seven or eight cards in their hand, if they couldn't make a run or have more than three of the same number, the points added up fast costing them anywhere from seventy to ninety points per hand.

For being a rookie, I was dealt good hands with a lot of wild cards and jokers.  I was the winner with forty points at the end of the game.  Everyone else was well above one hundred.  Regardless, we all agreed that we needed to keep coming out and socializing all winter.  I guess cabin fever takes on a new seriousness when you're living in a four room tin can.

Escapades don't have to be big or grand. They can be smaller experiences that include adventure or excitement, or bring the chance to be daring in some way. In any form, they can add terrific memories, increase the number of friends we meet, and be part of the greatness that is our journey today as well as through life.

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Water Everywhere Or A Tale Of Multiple Rivers

Now that we've been in New Bern, North Carolina for almost 2 weeks, we can honestly say we are starting to feel a little more settled. We're not saying it hasn't been a bed of roses all the time - looking back, some of the events are downright hilarious, and some details are still being mapped out. We can say, unequivocally, it is one day at a time.

We're also going to be honest with you - in this next part, there wasn't water everywhere, but things did get a little wet. We finally got around to hooking up the water supply for the RV. We hadn't done so to date because of the chilly weather at night on our journey south. It didn't matter what state we traveled through - one night or another, the thermometer dipped below the freezing mark. Even during our first week here in North Carolina, one night bottomed out at 25 degrees - a record low for that date. The weather took a turn in the right direction and warmed up to 75 degrees by the weekend of the 16th.

We acquired a heated outdoor water hose, so the worry of freezing wouldn't be an issue. We connected everything and turned on the campgrounds' water supply. No leaks on the outside - cool! Then why are we hearing water running? Rushing inside the RV, we noticed the kitchen sink was on full blast. While the Nomad was winterized when we purchased it, and we hadn't touched the faucets, we forgot the grandkids did when we brought it home. Never mind the dual sink was covered and the faucet was facing away from the sink. Oops!

We quickly shut the faucet off and wiped up the water that was flowing slowly in almost every direction.
Hardly anything got wet, and what did would dry. After that clean-up, we turned on the kitchen as well as the bathroom sinks. All was good. Ditto with the toilet and shower. Everything was flowing... for a good three hours - then more leaks. We were sitting outside when we heard water piddling on the ground towards the front of the RV. We shut the water off again, did some investigating, and realized that a check valve may be stuck or defective near the hot water tank. There may also be a small connection leak as well. After all, Nomad is 36 years old & these systems haven't been used all that much in several years. Finally, there is the possibility that a drain valve might still be open somewhere because the Nomad was winterized when we purchased it back in September. We're still all good - we can still use the toilet, and the campground showers are literally less than a stones throw away.

We have to admit - numerous friends we have made here at the campground have been more than willing to help out. One thing many people can't seem to comprehend, however, is that we're fine with our RV. They're amazed that we not going to tear apart the interior and fix this "problem" NOW! They don't feel that we're idiots, but they've stated they simply cannot live without an arms length list of creature comforts. Jill asked a kind-of hypothetical question one evening, "Do you feel we're out of our league?" I replied, "No - we're not out of our league, just in a different one."

While our Nomad may seem (actually is) small compared to many of the motor-homes and 5th wheels here, we are perfectly happy with what we have. Think about it - we have a warm dry roof over our heads, a fridge, appliances to cook with, heat, a coffee maker, water, lights, a solid Internet connection, and an RV that runs and drives at the drop of a hat. We also have a crankin' ice cold A/C system - we found that out a few days ago when it was 83 degrees and humid.

We share numerous things with many of the people who stay (and live) here at the campground - we are good neighbors, we look out for each other, we even have similar interests. However, we all are traveling down  different and multiple rivers of life. It shouldn't (and in most cases doesn't) matter that we have different RV's - some of them are fairly new, there are older models like ours, others are like condos on wheels, a handful are small and basic, a few cost over a half a million dollars, while some rang in at an amount with much fewer zeros. The bottom line is, any path we cross has a special contribution to make in regards to our own journey. We can be grateful for all intersecting paths, no matter how adverse they may seem at the time. We can offer our fellow travelers a gift that is truly us - be it an invite to a campfire, some advice on our RV, or just a friendly random conversation. Our own trip will benefit many fold.  

By the way, we just finished our 4th photo slide show and it's up on You Tube! Click here to check it out!
Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

A First For Everything

From the moment of our birth, we open wide to the world and take our first breath. We are alive. Our bodies have sensors all over and we begin to feel, hear, taste, hear and see more clearly. Our bodies are an incredible set of interacting systems. Amazing still, we interact with other bodies. A baby learns right off how to nurse from its mother, to cry as a means of communication when something is uncomfortable, as well as grasp its finger. It has learned basic survival skills within a matter of days or even hours. What does any of this have to do with camping? Or being a Nomadic American?

First off, let's a trip down memory lane, shall we? Camping for me (Jill) was way different than what we are doing now. My first camping excursions were as a baby in the late 1960's. My folks had a Nimrod pop-up camper. We would go to the beach at the ocean every summer. I became used to snoozing in a sleeping bag to stay warm. As I got older, I remember the fires being used for cooking our hot dogs and marsh-mellows. It was later on in Girl Scouts where I learned basic survival skills - how to wash and clean a Katine, start a campfire and mark a trail for when you hiking so you can find your way back. Tents and pop-up campers were the majority in campgrounds back then. Larger RV's were like an exotic animal - rare and usually set off to a section by itself.

Pretty much like Jill, my first camping experience (Dave) was also in a pop-up camper. It was in the late 60's as well. I can't remember the brand name, but I do remember it being white and orange; like a cream-cicle. I think it was considered more "high end" than most, because it had an indoor and outdoor Coleman propane cooking units, along with a sink, fridge, and lights.

I can also remember seeing photos and home movies of us when we lived in northern New Jersey. The camper was pulled by a VW Bus. We weren't hippies by any stretch of the imagination. Camping in the pop-up was one story in itself. If my memory serves me correctly, my sister and I had to share one side of the camper when we slept. Thank God for sleeping bags - otherwise we probably would have killed each other. The camper was a gamut of experiences for a few summers; it would hotter than blazes during the day, but if there was a night breeze, it was about as close to sleeping outside, where it was cooler, as one could get. When it rained, we had to zip up the sides like a tent in an effort to stay dry - which happened for the most part. There were times when it would leak. And speaking of rain, things went from damp to downright lousy if we had to "take down" in it.

The VW Bus was the other side of the story. While it was big enough for our family, it was hardly adequate to tow an 800 pound camper. Speeds of 0 to 60 took an average of 3 minutes and 41 seconds. The bus (like the camper, which is why I feel they were meant for each other) got just as hot in the summer, cold in the winter, and got damp when it rained - although it lacked the ventilation.

But it was the late 60's / early 70's. Did anyone really care? When it came to campers, A/C, microwave ovens, cable TV, and the Internet were non-existent. My brain is having some difficulty remembering exactly where we traveled to on the campers maiden voyage, but I do remember meandering through Pennsylvania, Virginia and the Shenandoah Valley, Ohio, the Great Lakes, Illinois, Wisconsin, and other destinations in the mid-west as well as the Northeast.

My parents did an admirable job finding campgrounds that were on lakes, places and things to keep kids entertained (and hopefully make some friends) and not killing us through the many miles we journeyed. Like Jills' experiences, most campers hit the road with either tents, pop-ups, or campers that fit inside the bed of a truck. Full size enclosed motorhomes were scarce, and when I say full size, I mean about 27 feet max - not the 40 to 50 foot behemoths like today, and 5th wheels just didn't exist. Perhaps that's one reason why we chose the Nomad as our first RV; it brings us back to a time when camping was truly camping - not the concept of bringing everything including the satellite dish with us as if living in a small condo...

Our first "settlement" - New Bern, North Carolina - we are here definitely until the first half of December. We've been here for almost a week and have had quite the variety of experiences to date.

Our first friend was a fine individual named Brian. We're unsure what his exact position is here, but we think he's one of the managers. If not, he should be - he's that good at what he does. He helped us decide which plot to park on as we cruised around in his electric golf cart. He pointed out pros and cons of some spots including some things we would have never thought of. Our current plot is #18. We have a gorgeous view of the man-made pond, complete with fountain and lighted foot bridge, a short walk to the pier, and we can generally see everyone else from our position while still having shade trees. Brian not only works here, but helps everyone else out on his time off. We have swapped experiences including the one that brought him here. His bottom line was, "Don't worry; things will work out. You'll like it here."

Survival tip #1 - Listen & learn from people who've already been where you are going and glean as much information as you can from their experiences.

We've mentioned before about the train that runs through New Bern. The first one usually comes through at 4am. On other days, it's come through at midnight, and again at 6am. While we're getting used to it, it looks like we may be purchasing some earplugs in order to camp in 100% comfort!


Our first campfire proved to be a challenge to Jill as she tried to remember what she learned in Girl Scouts in how to set up the wood. She placed some dry, dead leaves as a base, then added small twigs, then larger ones, and topped off the whole thing with a tee-pee of about 4 or 5 small logs. She then added newspaper, wadded it into balls, tucked one or two under the logs and a few along the edges along with some broken up cardboard. With a match or two, she set it ablaze!

We then broke out the Summer sausage and roasted it over the open flames. Yum! Our neighbors came out from their campsites, whether out for a walk or walking their dogs, and stopped by to chat and to warm their souls for a spell. No TV, no being on-line, no cell phones... just friendly people sharing a fire and some laughs. True camping.

Campfires are a good ending to a blessed day and for this blog!
Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Pastimes

Why do we need something to help us pass the time?  Or what is it about time that scares some people so much?  And why do others consider sitting around doing nothing wasteful?  In our opinion, meditating and contemplating life is not though... however, they both seem to some outsiders a waste of valuable time.  There's the classic saying, "time is money", which may be true to many people.  Being in this moment just as it is with no distractions is a rarity in these modern times. Finding the time to do this is imperative.  The excuses are varied and comical why one cannot sit still in peace and quiet.

For one, where do you find peace and quiet?  At times surely not at a campground with neighbors less than ten feet away.  Today we witnessed two pastimes that clashed.  One camper wanted to hear the NASCAR race and cranked up his truck radio in order to hear it better.  Unfortunately, his neighbor wanted to hear the baseball game and blared his radio in retaliation in order to hear the announcer better. Needless to say, if you don't like sports this type of competition added to one's disdain. For those of you who are wondering who won the battle of the volume - unsure. We think it was the NASCAR camper, because his event lasted longer. Do we care?

What is there to do at a campground?  That depends on the location. We have seen a large checker board set up and chess too, but no takers lately.  There was a baseball game over the weekend when the children
were here and the parents cheered them on.  There is dog walking, book reading, boating, fishing, biking, swinging on the swings, pot holder making on a loom, watching TV, surfing the Internet, going to a golf tournament and doing laundry - although the last item doesn't sound very appealing on a sunny day.

Dave and I like to take walks and photographs.  We like hot rods from the 30's through the early 70's and happen to see a 1967 Pontiac Tempest on site.  It's from the era when two vertical headlights on both sides were the rage along with a wide track grill.  This car is in very good condition and the guy drives it daily. No salt from the beach or winter northern roads to concern himself with.

One way to get to know a person better is to get in tune with what they listen to on the radio or on their computer.  What do these bands have in common  (besides strange names)? The B-52's, the Plain White T's, Archie Bell and the Drells, 311, The Gin Blossoms, The Black Crows, The Fray, Harry Connick, Jr., Blind Melon, The Flaming Groovies, The Funloving Criminals, Afghan Whigs, Dido, Bare Naked Ladies, Hootie and the Blow Fish , Bon Jovi and The English Beat.

Most of the songs I've heard before and can appreciate the various beats, tempos and linguistic combinations.  Most of David's favorite bands are considered to be Alternative Rock. I, being the psychologist major, like to examine why people like what they like.  How does one choose the music they like?  What does the beat have to do with our own heart rhythms?  Dave read that the more driving the beat, the more it can put you tired.  I suppose it would get exhausting to listen to loud sounds after a while because it would fire up one's ingrain fight or flight mechanism and insight a burn out effect.

 Within Dave's repertoire is quite a variety.  He likes change?  Definitely. He likes all sorts of cultures? Most definitely. His heart's not made of stone.  He turns to you to get to know where you are coming from.  Dave has "...a lot to do with the first time he meets a person. He puts his arms around me.  He just wants to fly." He wants to "...live a life extraordinary", one that is less "ordinary". "...If you had just one question, what would you ask Him?"  "What if God was one of us?"  Dave loves conscious raising questions like I do.  When songs do the same then what's not to like?  "...I don't like being a stranger in my own life.  Every day is a winding road. My life's insane.  Watching the faded signs go past, trying to make his way home. Some of these lyrics have been played over again in the past twenty-four hours. My favorite- "If I had a million dollars".   It invokes the imagination.  What would you do with a million dollars?

 There are love songs like "Hey There Delilah" by The Plain White T's and Harry Connick, Jr.'s "We Go Together Like A Wink And A Smile". Dave is a romantic.  He says that modern music has evolved from the 50's, but not all of it is considered Alternative. In a real nutshell, in Dave's Alternative music blog, alternative rock began in 1963 with the Kingsmen's huge hit "Louie Louie".  It ushered in the music of garage rock.  It is simple, basic and distorted, sounding almost sub-standard (horrible in some critics opinion). The garage band persona along with the rhythm and blues sound triggered another whole movement out of the mainstream... an alternative to the mainstream at that time -- The Beatles, The Beach Boys and other pop music.  Everything became unhitched by the mid-60's and rock music was no exception. In some cases, it was blown right out of the water by the late 60's. (Similar to the art movement with Andy Warhol and Jackson Pollock with his abstracts).   Why do we do what we do?  Why did they do what they did?

Why do people live on the road? Is it only for the thrill of the adventure?  Is it to meet someone new? Or to learn more about the one you're with?  Is it the danger? Or the fun of it? Possibly to have no responsibilities? Maybe to have a personal challenge? Or to better myself in some way?

Did I mention the pastime of camp decorating?  I forgot it because as I'm writing this some rain showers are brewing and I had to take mine inside to keep them safe.  One camper had a "doggie addition" to their camper to keep their two rescue dogs from barking at other dogs and people.  He said it still didn't work that great. We can agree with him - the dogs couldn't see what was making a noise, but they could still hear it. Oh well - the owners tried. They ended up leaving yesterday.

On our daily constitutional, we observed a train coming over the mile-and-a-half river bridge.  It carried 20 cars with molten sulfur inside. We researched what it was and what it's used for:  primarily in sulfuric acid and then turned into a fertilizer.  Also used in a variety of chemical processes to make detergent, glass, animal feed, car batteries, as well as in paper mills and the mining industries.

We also observed more Jumping Mullets.  Why do they jump? One child said, "It jumps so that it can see where it's going."  Sounds pretty logical to me!  There are a couple of theories - first, a single one is trying to knock a parasite off itself, and two, if there's a school of them jumping, it's to avoid a predator. An older gentleman replied, "Fires burn, the sky is blue and mullets jump."   The truth is that no one really knows why the mullets jump.  It's just one of the mysteries of life. (Some fishermen have even seen the mullets do back-flips).  I guess this is right up there with why does the Humpback Whale jump out of the water in Maine.

So why does Dave like music? Why does Jill like art?  We guess it's just this - it is what it is. And there's nothing wrong with that.

Until next time,
The Happy "Pastime" Campers,
Jill & Dave

Hitting the Pause Button

Not all  campgrounds are created equal.  We stayed at a KOA on Thursday, and went to an RV "resort" on Friday. The resort was more like a ghost town in our opinion.  There were campers there, but no campers to be seen...the people had gone without their recreational vehicles.  Snow birds exist everywhere.  So, needless to say, while we had a gorgeous view of the Bouge Sound and Atlantic Ocean, we had a boring time. 

Pardon the pun, but the squirrels at this resort were absolutely "nutty".  At times it got down right dangerous sitting at our own picnic table with one squirrel protecting "his territory" by bombarding us with the nuts from the nearby tree. I think they were chestnuts.  He'd eat his nut and literally toss the shells at us. It was the "battle of the hood". Humans; hoodies up!  Squirrel; come down here if you dare!  When he was finished about an half an hour later, he came down and scampered away--"YOU COWARD!" we yelled after it. (Yes, we had a long day... and we couldn't even use the free wi-fi that was offered unless we sat on the porch of the office running on battery power in the dark or 39 degrees in the morning... no thanks!  Not high on our priority list.)  So, the RV resort was a bust.

                                                      Back to campground #1.  We had a decision to make; to press on and possibly make it to Georgia, or stay put.  We chose the latter.  We are at Bridgeton, NC KOA.  New Bern is literally a stones throw from here, yet the Neuse River separates the two.  So, we have to go down the road, over this two mile long bridge, figure out a maze of ins and outs of highways (three of them come together at this river) and how to get into the business part of town if we need anything.  It's a beautiful campground with an excellent staff and is rated one of the best in the entire country--we were fools to leave last Thursday.   Sometimes what you're looking for is right in front of you.  The amazing thing about life is that you are always given second chances to make it turn out right.  We are here now for a month--rent paid and we can breathe again.  Dave and I had a massive rush in making this decision and it took a lot out of us at the same time.

Saturday was spent meeting our new neighbors from Virginian, Texas, and Canada... Bernie and Belle; Allie and Rick; Gunner and his dog, Ziggy; Pete, Sue and their dog, Tre - He was from England, she from New

Orleans, Louisiana and Tray we don't know where he was from.  We also met a lifelong local, who was out fishing near the campgrounds' wharf, named Paul.  He told us all about the Jumping Mullets that eat the Striper which he was fishing for.  He said to catch a Mullet, you need a net.  So, I figure they just jump in if you hold the net just right above the water.  ( Haven't tried my theory yet...will get back to you on that one.)

New Bern is the second oldest town in North Carolina.  It has a deep history besides what occurred in the Civil War. (Dave got this info out of the Triple A books - thanks Mom) For example, the town had the colonies first printing press was established here.  It had the states first newspaper and was the state capitol until 1794.  New Bern is also the birthplace of Pepsi Cola.  Anyone want a drink of "pop"? If we say 'soda' around here, they'll look at us as if we had two heads.

"Encouragement equals a force for good"; a sign seen on the back of a truck as we went to Walmart in search for helmets to protect us from squirrel attacks as the KOA also has the same trees...so far the squirrels have let us be and only the tree drops its nuts on a tin roof to the community room one site over from us.   
"Beyond all expectations"; was a caption I noticed in a magazine in the laundry room.  Dave noticed that all the magazines in there were female orientated.  He remarked that management thinks guys don't do laundry.  This trip to date has far superseded any ideas I had held for our journey.  Not only have we traversed the American soil, but we have ventured deep within ourselves and pulled out courage and bravery that we didn't know existed there.

As always, it is comforting to do what is familiar.  We are in the habit of worshiping among others on Sunday mornings. We found a Catholic church in New Bern and should have had our suspicions aroused when we noticed the road sign - Country Club Road...seriously? Yes.  The entrance was four lanes wide, past the park benches, gazebos, and water fountain in the man-made pond.  Then onward to view the three story school and the cathedral where Mass was to be held.  We stopped and stared...yes, we are tourists!  How many people do you know drive their RV to church?  We enjoyed the lively service and listening to the vocal variety within the choir and shaking warmly others hands in greetings.  We were comforted here.

On that note, I will sign off as one very happy camper. Dave will too after he puts in the pics.
Jill and Dave.

The Bucket List & Traveling Below The Mason / Dixon LIne

Alright; where did we leave off? We were getting ready to leave Ruckersburg,Virginia after spending the night at a safe & quiet Wal-Mart. During our visit, we met a woman who worked there named Bajinder (pronounced Buh-gin-da), who was an absolute sweetheart. She was quite taken with us because we actually took the time to ask her how her name was pronounced. We saw her more than once in our 18 hour stop-over and she remembered our names as well. "Dave is a common name, like Tom", she said. She had a harder time with Jill. First it was "Jo", then "Gill". She finally ended with "J-ill". Close enough - it's all good! We gave her an A for effort as she was originally from India.

Once again, our Nomad attracted a great deal of attention. Numerous 18 wheelers spend the night there, but apparently not many RV's. Just as we were about to leave, a couple named Sue & Lee chatted with us for a bit about our Nomadic lifestyle and ended up giving us coupons to eat at Hardee's, since they are popular here in the South. They thought if we could save some money during our travels, all the better.

We meandered through Charlottesville, which is also the home of Thomas Jefferson's Monticello, then headed southeast around Richmond, and saying goodbye to the Shenandoah Mountain range. We then went south on I-95 to the Rocky Mount KOA campground. Just before exiting Virginia, we captured a glance at our first of many cotton fields. Ditto with our first tobacco field when we ventured a short distance through North Carolina. We reached our destination mid-afternoon and then the irony hit us - this campground is actually in Enfield, North Carolina - and was nowhere near Rocky Mount.

Enfield is a tiny farm town that can be described in two concepts - flat & nothing but huge tobacco fields. If you wanted anything to eat, see any attraction, or mingle with any civilization; you had to drive the 18 miles south to Rocky Mount. The only things we saw were 18-wheelers, large farm tractors & equipment.

The campground was nestled in a sea of pine trees. Even though it was fairly warm, most of the bugs had gone into hibernation. We couldn't imagine what it would be like from Spring into early Autumn. We pulled into our site, but had a little problem with our electrical hook-up. With a little help from the manager Jim, we were good to go in no time. However, we wished the wi-fi worked out as well as the electrical snafu did. We had some writing & blogging to do, but the signal was so poor, we had to go outside on our picnic table to connect... and we were only about 75 feet from the office.

We managed to finish some of our work before sunset, eat a nice hot dinner and called it a night. We were thrilled that we didn't need several layers of blankets for a change. Our sleep, however, was interrupted by an ever increasing rain that set in by 3am. The drops off the pine trees added to the symphony and at times sounded like hail. We drifted in and out of sleep, depending on how hard it was raining. By 7am, we were not only ready for some breakfast, but also a nice shower.

After those tasks were accomplished, we went into the main office, which had a small table off to one side, and Jim was gracious to let us use it to complete our work. We had to change our next nights' reservation, due to the fact the campground we were going to stay at in Beaufort, NC, had a "slight flooding problem" due to 2-3 days of rain. We grabbed a sight at the New Bern KOA. On the two hour trip down, we passed more farms, towns named Short Pump, Scotland's Neck (who comes up with these names?) as well as the town of Farmville. Was this the inspiration for the Facebook game? We also got another realization that we were no longer in New England, when we saw a license plate that said "GOT-HOG?"

We are currently in New Bern (pronounced NYOO-burn depending on who you talk to) which is part of the Crystal Coast of central North Carolina and also includes the Outer Banks.

While writing this, we came up with the first part of the title - Bucket List. The first item on the list is exploring new ways to live. For example, camping. According to Websters, it means, "Live for a time in a camp, tent, or camper". The people we've surrounded ourselves with are our age and slightly older, friendly, and are enjoying themselves. We can see why - we are composing this on the edge of the Nuese River (pronounced ny-oose - again depending on whom you meet), where apparently Blackbeard the pirate sailed into spending time here as well as in Beaufort. Rumor also has it, while he and his crew were on some brief R&R, they buried some of their treasure in these parts as well. It is currently 75 degrees with passing clouds and a gentle breeze. We have missed the ocean tremendously - so glad to be back near it!

We're going to check out this area for a bit and see what else is here. We are also in the process of making our 3rd You Tube slide show so we can show more photos we've taken. Stay tuned!

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

To Squeal or Not to Squeal

In our last blog, we briefly mentioned that the Nomad was going in for repair for a squeal that became more frequent and obnoxious. Jill had two panic attacks that day on the road as it seemed that the noise was frying her brain. By the time we arrived at the Shenendoah Hills campground, the sound was unbearable. It was at a constant squeal and sometimes had a train whistle sonorous. Dave thought it might be the AC compressor unit and possibly not a belt, but it was hard to tell. All we knew was, after this day of driving, we are both at our wits end! At this campground, the manager, Sandi, gave us the name and number of a reputable garage only a mile down the road back from which we came. We called and made the appointment for tomorrow (Nov. 5th at 10:00a.m.). Good thing it wasn't any earlier...

We slept well considering how overtired and stressed we were. obviously, we weren't sure what was up
with the RV and if it was going to be expensive or not. We had basically made it passed the halfway point on our journey - do we still forge ahead or go back home? The next morning we got ourselves as well as our gear together and started up the Nomad by 9:30 a.m. I was sitting in the co-pilots' chair and waited while it warmed up. The squeal was obnoxious in a matter of minutes. (I even saw the blinds go up on a neighbors' RV--sorry folks...). Dave went to the bath house to clean up before hitting the road and said that you could hear it all over the campground. We checked out at 9:45 and pulled into Madison Auto and Tire shortly thereafter.

We were greeted by Linda and she got the information she needed off the Nomad. Then, Tim, the mechanic on duty tried to find the squeal. He tried gunning the motor, shutting it off and starting it a number of times and still he couldn't hear a thing. The Nomad had decided to play it cool and be quiet for this hour apparently. When Linda came in and said there would be no charge because Tim couldn't find anything, we became pissed. We were NOT leaving there until SOMETHING was done to the Nomad.  (Yes, we were sick puppies by this point...) For the first time in two days, we actually wanted the Nomad to make a noise and it had stopped the squealing as we pulled into the garage parking lot.

Dave suggested that he take Tim for a ride to see if he could recreate the noise. "The Nomad was as quiet as a mouse," Dave said when they returned. "We went about 5 miles up the road and then I turned around.  The Nomad still wasn't making any noise & I wasn't going to waste anymore of Tims' time. I just didn't know what was wrong with this thing."  Finally, the noise made its little squeak as they were about to pull in. Now that Tim heard it, he wanted to drive it again with the "dog house" off. (The dog house covers the motor on the inside of the cab).  Then he and another guy drove the Nomad down the road again.


One thing we realized as we saw the two technicians drive off in the RV - they were driving not only our sole set of wheels, but also our house. It can be an unsettling feeling that's very difficult to describe! They came back with the Nomad in less than 5 minutes & it was squealing loudly. Tim told us it was the AC compressor making the noise. "Fine. Just cut it off and we'll fix the AC at another time." Good, Dave and I aren't losing our minds.

Inside during both test drives, Jill spoke to the two people in the waiting room. A gentleman named Scott who was finishing up an oil change and a woman named Peggy, who happened to be Tim's grandmother.  We were both visibly stressing and not from Virginia. So, as most of our conversations begin,
"Where are you from?"
"Maine" , Jill replied.
"You're a long way from home."
"Yes, we are. I'm Jill and this is Dave."
"Hi. I'm Scott.  I live in Orange County." He reached out his hand and we shook it.

"I'm Peggy. I'm Tim's grandmother. Don't worry. He's real good at what he does. He'll find the problem. I know what it's like when your car is acting up and then it doesn't do it when you bring it to the shop. Some people think you're crazy." (Even after the half hour drive about--she said," He'll find that problem or else I'll give him a swift kick in the butt.")

Peggy was about 70 years old and had a deep southern accent. She was slender and had a passion for rescuing sick dogs from the shelter. She also worked at a respite care facility and hurt herself lifting a gentleman who had fallen on her shift about a month or so ago.

Scott was a short, pudgy middle-aged man who was trying to purchase a house of his own and was RVing too. He departed and wished us well as he went to pay his bill. Peggy had left soon thereafter also saying that she'll come back when Tim's not quite as busy. Linda came into the room carrying an envelope and said, "That gentleman had left this for you."

It wasn't long before we paid our bill, chatted with Linda for another 15 minutes, and Dave was able to finish his cup of coffee. All in all, the Nomad was a cheap fix and we were on our way down the road 20 miles to the nearest Walmart in Ruckersville, Virginia for the night as it was already afternoon and we were starving for lunch. We just didn't have the energy to drive 4 more hours into North Carolina. We'll tackle that tomorrow on the 6th... and we'll do it QUIETLY!!

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill & Dave

Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Squealing...

We were camped out in Elizabethville, PA when we last spent time together in the blog. We ended up spending two nights there, mostly due to due to rain and wind. The Nomad, which is just over 10 feet tall, does not like really gusty winds. It can be like driving a barn on a skateboard. However, we are thrilled to

report that our first storm with the Nomad was a sailing success. We awoke Friday morning to moderate rain. About 10 minutes later, the wind sounded like a small train coming through - then came an incredible downpour. Luckily for us, we parked near the super Wal-mart building and it blocked most of the wind and a bit of the moisture. We were rocked hard enough twice to make our sailboat wind chimes twinkle somewhat loudly. Being the now-tourists that we are, we peered out our drapes to check out our weather event. Jill exclaimed, "...looks like the ocean out there!" The water was bouncing off the pavement and blowing much of it sideways. Note to selves - keep an eye on the weather as we go.

We departed from Elizabethville Saturday morning. Jill has been itching to take the drivers seat and got her first taste of driving the RV in the very large parking lot. First, starting up the Nomad - give it 3 good pumps of the accelerator. Cool - it starts. Let the engine rev at a somewhat high idle for about a minute or two, then hit the accelerator again twice and bring it down to a lower idle. Yes - this is "old school retro camping".

Second, release the emergency brake, press on the foot brake, then we can put it into drive. Jill struggled a little with the maneuver, as it requires some muscle and must be be gone through slowly. It didn't happen for Jill as easily as she thought it would after watching Dave do it. It looked like a piece of cake.

Third, putting the Nomad into motion requires a heavier foot than a regular passenger vehicle - something like standing on a block of wood. Remember: the Nomad is 36 years old. This is how they did in the "old days" as our grand-kids tell us. The RV began rolling. Jill smiled and turned her first corner - in more ways than one. She maneuvered the turns in the parking lot as if they were street corners - careful not to tip over, going slowly; until the last corner. She was well away from any other vehicles and was gaining confidence by the foot... until a few things went flying in the camper went flying behind us. At that point, it was time to park near a BK for some morning coffee and Dave returned to the Captains chair.

As we were leaving the parking lot, we couldn't help but observe row upon row of corn and soy fields, dotted by farms. There was even parking for the Amish & Mennonite for their traditional horse and buggy. Hey - you have to remember - this is new to us!

Having received directions from Sandy, Dave's sister, we motored on a much flatter route than we had experienced over the past three days. We were unsure who enjoyed it more - us or the Nomad! Speaking of our Nomad, Jill wondered where the RV had traveled before with its previous owners. The odometer had a tick under 71,000 miles when we purchased it. So Nomad - where have you been? Most ships have a log for their travels. The GPS coordinates as we write this are 38.352628 / -78.280591 for anyone who wants to pinpoint exactly where we are. As of this writing, we have logged over 1,200 miles with the Nomad and are past the halfway point to southern Georgia.

It didn't take us long to arrive at Sandy's house. The Nomad was definitely out of it's element - in a thickly settled suburban neighborhood! Sandy's husband Jerry & her oldest daughter Emilie were out picking up the families younger daughter Ellie from a local college for the weekend. Sandy was in the basement and didn't hear us pull up - which we feel was a good thing. After some maneuvering around street-parked cars, avoiding small trees, and a 5-point turn, we backed into their driveway "picture perfect" according to Dave.

After hellos and hugs with Sandy, she offered us both a chance to shower & freshen up before the rest of the troops arrived. What a blessing! By the time we both finished, we greeted Jerry and our nieces that we hadn't seen in over 18 years. We shared our adventures to date as they prepared a tasty salad for lunch. Afterwards, we stretched our legs as we walked their neighborhood and nearby park. We even saw one couple putting up outdoor Christmas decorations including multiple inflatable snowmen! Sandy says that it's a common phenomenon - and we thought our son-in-law Matt was into early Christmas decorating!

After our walk, Sandy mentioned that she had some errands to do, so we went with her as we had to pick up a few necessities. We also got our first guided tour of the small city of Carlisle. We saw the historical downtown, the Fairgrounds, and numerous different neighborhoods. We also saw the historical court house complete with its old pillars where canon balls had left Civil War battle scars as well as a church where George Washington had attended services. We headed home for dinner, conversation, laughter, and more catching up before retiring for the night in the Nomad.

Sunday dawned sunny and clear as we viewed it through a Japanese maple tree. Very striking to gaze upon as it is a fairly rare tree in the United States. We joined our humble hosts for breakfast and we attended a Methodist worship service where Emilie is the music director (she does an incredible job!). We were a little surprised to find that the service was quite similar to the services we attended back in Maine.

The topic of the service was inspired by the movie "Ghost" from the 90's, as the pastor is a true movie buff. He related his experience of the movie to All Souls Day. He had three questions for us:
 1). Can those whom have passed away help the living?
 2). Can they communicate with us?
 3). How does all this work?

Not to get too heavy, but we have both experienced times when a persons' spirit has helped us out. Jill can tell you of times when her father and grandmother have been felt nearby during major decision making times and Dave has quite a tale he can tell in regards to a wonderful woman named Mary, a former boss, who passed away very unexpectedly.

After the service, we had another tasty lunch and more visiting before we journeyed with Sandy to bring Ellie back to her college. The campus was not the largest we've seen, but was awesome. Even her dorm room was spacious (as far as those go - talk to our youngest daughter Cat about that one). Ellie showed us the buildings where she spends most of her time as well as the impressive greenhouse. We took some pictures and said our goodbyes. On the way back to Carlisle, Sandy was most hospitable with stopping in many places so we could take pictures - God bless her!

Although the years passed way to quickly, all the time apart seemed to melt as we reconnected. Even though the girls really didn't "know us", they accepted us, Nomads and all, with open arms, minds, and hearts. Life lesson - try not to let 20 years go by before reconnecting with loved ones. Tell them you love them, write and send letters and cards, as much as possible. Try to go the extra mile. Distance may be an issue at times, but all we we can do is love one another to the best of our abilities and forgiving ourselves for when we have failed to love. We must admit, saying goodbye, once again, was hard.

We journeyed through town, past Dickenson College, and gassing up before hitting Interstate 81 south out of Pennsylvania, through Maryland and West Virginia, and into Virginia via the Byway. We witnessed the beautiful Shenandoah Mountain range off in the distance, as well as large rivers, fall foliage, and more farms. We made good time and reached the Shenandoah Hills campground by mid-afternoon. We also made an appointment for tomorrow (Nov 5th) to have the Nomad checked and repaired. After that, depending on how the day progresses, we'll either spend another night in the area, or head to our next stop in Enfield, North Carolina.

P.S. As we write this, the mechanic, Tim, diagnosed the problem as a wearing out A/C clutch in the compressor. We will just cut the belt (it will be cheaper to purchase a new belt than to pay for the labor to take it off). We'll keep an eye on things, but according to our automotive experts, we should be fine. More details to come about the garage, the staff, Scott & Peggy. Stay tuned! We're very blessed as the fix was very affordable. And we're mobile... and QUIET!!

Until next time,
The Happy Campers,
Jill and Dave