Because We Can - Fulltime RV'ing

Journal Archive 5/11 - 5/20 2011

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May 11 Wednesday

Around town


While Linda stayed in the RV, I spent most of the afternoon wandering around the downtown area of Meridian, looking at the smattering of old buildings and the wonderful collection of over 50 painted carousel horses that are found around town.


Everything has a beginning, and also and end. This is the grave of Richard McLemore, the first settler of Meridian, located in a small cemetery with far more broken headstones than ones still standing. Meridian is not a large town, but like all the town's like it that we visit, it is hurting and it is easy to tell. I find it interesting to hear the politicians mouth words that say what a great country this is, and that America can can do anything it puts it mind to. Anyone that travels around the country can see that America is hurting big time in ways that aren't going to get any better. Do they have their heads up their butts or do they really think that we are stupid enough to believe them?


I was into graves today, and will be again tomorrow, though the grave of tomorrow will prove to be far more heart wrenching than those of today. These really mean very little, but tomorrow's will be filled with emotion and will probably be beyond my ability to describe. Near where we are staying is a small cemetery with the graves of some 100 unknown confederate soldiers that died at a field hospital. The echoes of that long ago war sound once again.


I will end today with the words over the door to the county courthouse. The kind of county where a white man in the 1960's could say that a jury of his peers would never convict him of killing a black man. State's Rights, as in: To state it is right to kill a person because of the color of there skin. They can tell the States Rights lie and the war wasn't about slavery lie as often as they want, but a lie it was, a lie it is, and a lie is what it will forever be. And yes, I do have a strong opinion about hate and what it causes man to do to man.

May 12 Thursday

Man's inhumanity to man


Great breakfast this morning, and from a bunch of odds and ends leftovers at that. Maybe it was the little bit of leftover spaghetti sauce that made it special. The only thing for sure is that there is no way to ever duplicate it.


So much for taking the freeway into town this morning. There is a nice road that goes from the front of the park to downtown Meridian. Did we take it, of course not, we followed the GPS which took us the "faster" way via the freeway. Not faster when there was an accident just before our exit, and not nice when we were surrounded by semi's.


Sometimes things work out, and both stores we were looking for turned out to be located beside each other. The fact that they were not near where I thought they were was beside the point, and fortunately the Droid was able to help us out. Recycle the old printer ink cartridges and buy new ones at OfficeMax. Then buy a replacement button for my khaki shorts at JoAnn Fabrics, where I learned that a button is just not a button, and that getting the right button is not just picking up the first button package you see. I will say the replacement is better than the original.


James Earl Chaney, 21 years old, murdered in 1964. I want to say much but I won't, I don't need to because to look on this young man's grave says more than I ever could.


The large metal braces are to prevent the marker from being pulled over. His photo is missing from the marker, having been destroyed. Gouges where chains have been wrapped around the stone can be seen. Even all these years after his murder, he is still hated. His crime, working to register fellow blacks to vote, wanting the civil rights that were rightfully theirs and his. Hatred or something even far more evil? Wave the flag, say the pledge of allegiance. "with Liberty and Justice for all." One only has to read about what happened to this young man to realize those are just words, nothing more.


"There are those who are alive, yet will never live. There are those who are dead, yet will live forever. Great deeds inspire and encourage the living."

Each of us look at things in our own unique way. What enlightens one, enrages another. It was then, it is today. Being against something is being for something. If what I say and do doesn't matter, then why do I exist.

Being in Mississippi has touched me in ways I never imagined.

May 13 Friday



Might as well get the bad out of the way right off. Friday the 13th, pump No. 13, clearance 13 feet. MotoSat left up. As we pull in there is a boom, immediately followed by Linda saying "The MotoSat is up!"


Actually we were lucky, because just a few inches to the side and it would have hit the light and the result would have been far worse. As it was, we clipped the front of the canopy as we drove under, doing no noticeable damage to the canopy. Unfortunately the MotoSat was not so lucky, and it is in very bad shape, as in broken, smashed, twisted and with a few unattached parts.


Some of the extra parts retrieved after we extricated the coach from under the canopy. Actually it wasn't too bad. I just let the air out of the airbags, lowering the the coach so that I could drive forward without hitting anything on the way out. Unfortunately there had been more than enough damage done to the MotoSat when it hit the front edge of canopy coming in, that not doing any more damage wasn't going to make much difference.


If there was any good news, it was that the MotoSat would still stow when we hit the stow button. There is really nothing you can do when something like this happens other than to just try and make the best of it. I got up on top of the coach, picked up the parts, and made sure it stowed when Linda hit the button. Then we continued on our drive. Maybe to rub a little salt into what happened, a couple of hours later we were seeing signs that indicated the price of diesel was 20 cents a gallon less than what we paid where the MotoSat incident occurred. Such is Life. And the pumps didn't have a canopy.


It could have been worse. Further north, we were heading to Savannah, Tennessee, the skies opened up seemingly every few miles as we passed through torrential downpours. What could have been worse is that we could have ripped a hole in the roof of the coach by tearing the MotoSat off under different conditions, like by hitting a bridge with it up or something similar. On Friday the thirteenth we were either luckily unlucky or unluckily lucky.


As we drove further north, we passed several intersections where a brown sign like the type used to show where a National Park is, would have an arrow and the words, Shiloh National Park, or something similar. The GPS and the navigator both said not to turn, so we kept on going. When the place to turn finally appeared, it was onto a County Road with no brown signs. A narrow, curvy County Road. In the end it worked out, we crossed the border, we arrived at the RV park, but it was Friday 13th.


When it had first happened I had been optimistic that there wasn't much damage to the MotoSat and we could order a few parts and repair it ourselves in the next week. Once I had time to really look at at it, that wasn't going to happen. Besides the obvious, there are other things that are not pointing where they should, and no way is it going to be a, replace a small part and it works, fix. It will be interesting how it all turns out.


This is where I should write, Every Dark Cloud has a Silver Lining, except that is not what this picture shows. How about, All that Glitters is not Gold, Sometimes it is Broken MotoSat Parts. I know it is hard to believe, but not once did we ever express any anger or even frustration over what happened. Stuff happens, and Life goes on.

May 14 Saturday

A better day


This is the "I can't believe you're so smart," look. It goes along with the "My computer doesn't even show, let alone connect to, the RV park wifi." All Linda said in response was, "Why don't you see if it will work up front, you can put your computer almost anywhere, you know." Smart girl. Smart guy for marrying her.


While not the ideal setup, it did work, though something tells me that my back is going to object to being subjected to the minor twist that sitting this way entails. Being really smart, I wrote the Daily Journal at the table where the computer normally sits, then used this location to get onto the park wifi and upload.


Most of the day was spent at Shiloh National Military Park, the main reason why we stopped here. As we were walking back from looking at one of the many monuments in the park, Linda remarked, "I never liked history in school. All the teacher ever did was to draw things on the board about a battle or something like that. Now I really enjoy looking at these sites and also reading about them."

Many things went to this change, but as an example, Linda has the civil war records of her great grandfather. So when she sees a display that includes an actual civil war haversack she gets excited. Having lost his haversack, his pay was docked 97 cents. What that really does is to bring the war to life. Her saying, "I can't believe I walked down that whole row of monuments," is really saying, "What happened here were the same things that my great grandfather saw and experienced."


My great great great uncle was actually in this battle, and while there are no monuments or plaques on the battlefield marking the location of his battery as there was at Vicksburg, they had an excellent display of artillery artifacts in the museum. I hadn't realized that in the artillery, they used a valise to to carry their personal items, making this something new to me. Once again we were both touched in personal ways by what we experienced.


Going through the photos to write the Daily Journal I came across this one Linda had taken. A small section of a diorama depicting a part of the battle, it shows a soldier with his haversack. This could have been a picture in a history book that meant nothing those many years ago when she was in high school. Today it is different, and is why knowing something about our past can change how we look at things in the present.


Standing beside a James Rifle was a way for me to connect. A captured confederate piece, a 14 pounder instead of the 12 pounders in my great great great uncle's Union Army battery. Doesn't matter, it's what it represents that really matters.


Then Linda got really excited as she discovered something that represented another link with her past. Doesn't look like much. a piece of fabric, handsewn with a button for a closure. Linda has a copy of a letter her great grandfather wrote while in the Union Army thanking a young woman for making this very type of object and sending it to him. A sewing kit received from a stranger who included her name in it, a letter of thanks, an exchange of letters, an exchange of wedding vows and three generations later Linda is here. History boring? Try telling that to Linda, a lady who now, can even get excited about the history of a small town in Germany that neither of has any connection with. Once history becomes more that dates, pictures and books, it is suddenly found everywhere you look. Which is why the fulltime life is so great, it gives you many more places to look.


The sign nearby said that like all the buildings in the area where the battle was fought, the original cabin that stood here was destroyed during the fighting. After the battle the family who farmed this land moved this cabin here. Linda's question was simple, "How did they move the building? Did they tear it down and rebuild it or move it one piece? She may never have asked a question in history class, but here, she is full of questions. Back then she couldn't wait for class to be over, now she has more questions than there are answers.


Once we returned to the coach I found myself not feeling that well for some reason, and no, it wasn't because my head was spinning from Linda's constant barrage of questions, or was it? Meaning I spent the remainder of the day resting and reading. That gave Linda the opportunity to do a little cooking, and the result was a fantastic beef stroganoff over spelt noodles with tomatoes and okra on the side. Needless to say, after that food I was feeling much better, and so spent the evening reading about Grant's Vicksburg campaign. When you are in civil war country, why not read about the civil war. Why not live Life.

May 15 Sunday

A lazy day


Lest you think the Daily Journal just magically appears each day, behold the writer hard at work. Note the primitive conditions he toils under. The uncomfortable seating, the lack of lighting, and his location in the coldest part of the coach. When Linda first came out this morning she was giggling and saying something about how cute I looked. Working at my writing I paid no attention. Little did I know she had documented the moment.


The day's plan called for doing nothing, it was Sunday, so a day of rest seemed appropriate. I was well into making a huge success out of the day when Linda called out from the back, "We've got a leak." Putting my book down thoughts such as, why couldn't she have said, "I've discovered a leak, but you just keep on reading while I fix it," were floating through my mind. Obviously I was one deluded man with thoughts like that. [Editor's comments: YES he was!]


Sometimes things are worse than you first think, like the MotoSat, and sometimes they aren't. So when she pointed to the tiny amount of water around the base of the faucet I thought it was the latter situation. That of course was ignoring the fact the contents from under the sink were scattered everywhere.

I looked at the faucet as she was saying, "See all the water." It didn't look like much to me, then I looked up at her and she was holding a plastic container from under the sink that certainly did have a lot of water of water in it. When I asked her how she discovered the leak, the answer was, "I smelled it."

Remind me that the next time we are on a long desert hike and she is concerned about out water to just tell her to smell the air and lead us to water. Is my wife a woman of many talents or what? Actually it was the musty smell she noticed, but sometimes you take what you get, and she's obviously got a lot to give. Even if sometimes it's a little out of the ordinary.


First was to find what was leaking, after which it could be fixed. Having been down this road several times in the past, removing the faucet handle exposed the problem. Crud, gunk and corrosion galore around the inner workings of the faucet. I couldn't believe it. What kind of a housekeeper am I married to? You mean she doesn't clean this part of the faucet during her once a week top to bottom cleaning of the coach?

Okay, so I didn't say it, let alone even think it, but if she had been doing that, we wouldn't have this problem. Though if she really did those things I'd have much bigger problems than this small leak so I'll just drop that line of thought immediately, never to think it again.


A few taps of the hammer on a screwdriver confirmed the threaded ring that holds everything in place was locked tight by the corrosion. But solving it was very simple as I told Linda to get some vinegar and clean it up. Being in charge of a repair job can have its benefits at times. We've actually done this same thing before, she it only took her a few minutes to have it cleaned to the point that I could remove the ring and then she could completely clean the corrosion off.

Before long it was looking as clean as new, I put it back together, moved the handle several times to some to see if it would loosen up. It did, so I tightened it a little more, then checked for leaks. It looked like there might be a small one, and upon removing the handle there was a little water on the mechanism, meaning it still wasn't tight enough. A little more tightening, no leaks, and it was as good as new, at least for now.


In the afternoon our son called, and it was good to hear from him. He has his struggles just like we all do, though his are more difficult than many, yet he is doing great at overcoming them. But when I mention that mom had discovered a leak, he immediately exclaimed, "The MotoSat ripped a hole in the roof?" We had a good laugh when I explained just what had leaked and that it had already been fixed. Though it got me to thinking later about why is it always so easy to fix the problems that don't really matter, yet so hard to overcome the ones that do. Don't sweat the little things is more true than ever.


When I took this photo Linda was not happy. The reason being that she didn't think it was a very good photo especially with the corner of the dish drainer showing. I told her no one would know it was the dish drainer, and I'll bet no one reading this knew that, meaning all her worries were for nothing.

As I was to later learn it also had something to do with the appearance of the cookies because they were made without any eggs. Some things are best left alone, so I didn't inquire as to whether the egg omission was by design or error. [Editor's comment: by design] Didn't matter to me as they tasted wonderful, so who cares what they looked like, or that they weren't stacked perfectly.

The day ended being a reversal of yesterday, it being Linda's turn to not feel 100 percent, though I think the lip smacking and other sounds I was making as I devoured my cookie may have perked her spirits up a might. As always, one's day is how one looks at it.

May 16 Monday

Crossing into Kentucky


It tasted every bit as good as it looks. The sweetest Texas grapefruit you can imagine, perfectly ripened papaya, sweet and tasty peppers, plus spinach and mushroom eggs topped with fresh tomatoes. With a start like that, it was looking like it was going to a great day.


One thing that wasn't going to happen today was a repeat of the MotoSat incident. It certainly wasn't going to be with the MotoSat because, due to its condition, it isn't going to be deployed anymore. However the Winegard still worked and we had been watching DirecTV through a hole in the trees. There was no way it was not going to be stowed, so immediately after breakfast, down it came.

"Did you stow the Winegard?" "Yes." "Are you sure?" "Yes!" Sound of door opening and closing as she goes outside double check. Coming back in, "Good job." Just in case, I had also taken photographic proof. Above is the control box showing stowing in progress.


Confirmation. Photo of the coach that proves the dish was stowed. Just before I pulled out of our site Linda checked once again to make sure it was down. That was all the good news. The bad news, we didn't use a checklist or other memory device to remind us it was up. Note to self, we need to use a checklist or some memory device. Note to Linda, we need to use a checklist or some memory device.


Florida license plate: HO3 6VB. The Natchez Trace, speed limit 50 mph. Speeds past us, then around the car in front of us. A tandem axle Country Coach. The kind of person that thinks the law doesn't apply to them. Maybe they got to where they are in life by breaking rules, paying no attention to the laws, figuring they were only for those who were honest, but I don't know that.


I do know they were breaking the law today as they disappeared off in the distance as we drove along at 50 mph. I'll let you draw your own conclusion as to what kind of person they were. We had a wonderful drive up one of the great scenic parkway's of America and look forward to taking it again sometime.


The Trace ends at Nashville, but by taking Hwy 155 we drove around the west and north sides then took I-65 north towards Kentucky. It was a good way to avoid the downtown area, it was freeway, and the traffic was light. Linda did very good with this route. Our stop for the night was in Franklin, Kentucky, and above is our view to the front. A view which was later marred when a travel trailer pulled in and blocked our view of the lake in an RV park that was 95% empty. Guess it was just our day to run into inconsiderate or worse RV'ers.


This is just an overnight stop, and we didn't even unhook the Explorer, but that didn't mean it wasn't special as dinner proved. It was a repeat of several nights ago, tomatoes and okra, Linda's beef roast, and a spinach salad. Another great day living the fulltime Life.

May 17 Tuesday

Heading north


As with yesterday, the Winegard DirecTV dish was most assuredly stowed before we pulled out for the drive north to Shepherdsville. It wasn't going to be a long drive, but with the time zone change to Eastern time, the clock was going to show 3 hours elapsing as we drove north on I-65. And that in itself made it a very unusual day for us, perhaps a first where we started a half mile or less from the Interstate, drove only on the Interstate, and ended a half mile or less from the Interstate. I don't like driving the Interstates.


Just a brief comment on the RV parks on this side of the Mississippi. They are different from the ones we are used to out west. Grass and mud, lots of trees, humid weather, things like that make them not very enjoyable. For two people who grew up in Ohio we sure have become westernized over the years.


Something else that we have discovered in abundance back east. This one was on the entrance road to the RV park and was almost half the width of the road. There were many other little things around the park that showed the same lack of concern or maintenance. It speaks volumes about your business when the first thing your customer see's is something like this.


At least we were going the right way on I-65. Almost the entire distance there was intermittent construction going on, sometimes for miles and miles. Most of the northbound work was such that a lane closure wasn't needed. Southbound they had a large repaving project taking place, and the line of traffic, mostly trucks, went on and on. Sometimes things go your way in more ways than one.


Our view to the front for the next few days. An RV park that feels more like home, hardly any trees, no grass, and lots of other RV's. Beware of what you wish for, you may get it. Just like yesterday, there was no one in the office when we pulled in, just pick a site and check-in later. Vacation season has yet to start and I wonder what it will be like since we haven't been the in states the past two summers.


One thing that we saw that was new was the price of diesel being less than the price of gasoline.


The most exciting thing today was going shopping at Kroger's. The bear was just a cute cub all day. I didn't do anything dumb or say something I shouldn't have. I wonder if this is the kind of day most people normally have? Something tells me I shouldn't count on it becoming a habit as far as Linda and I are concerned. Some day's Life is interesting in abnormally normal ways.

May 18 Wednesday

On the Bourbon Trail


Today being a cold rainy day, we decided that it is a day for indoor activity. Normally on days like this, with the exception of when we were in Alaska, we would stay in the coach. Given the fact we need to be in southeastern Ohio next week for Linda's reunion, we really didn't have that option today. So knowing that what we are going to be visiting on the Bourbon Trail was going to be inside, off we went, with our first stop being just a few miles down the road at Jim Beam.


We quickly learned that bourbon making is a spread out business, and to take a tour is to walk outside. It really wasn't bad, just some light rain on occasion, which may have kept the tour groups to a smaller size. We had just started the tour when Linda leaned over and whispered, "Is bourbon a guy thing? I'm the only female here." Instead of saying something like,"You're a real man's woman", "Most women aren't as smart as you", "You're sharp, sweet and sophisticated," or some other nice compliment, I think I said something like "I don't know." Way to go Bob, you're a real winner.


This is the type of building where the bourbon is aged in oak barrels. To be labeled as bourbon it must meet certain requirements, being aged in a new oak barrel, one of them. We went on three tours today and every one had a visit to one of these bonded aging warehouse's as part of it, meaning that we have quite a few photos of what is inside them.


What's inside them is barrels, thousands of barrels. There is also a very unique smell, not unpleasant, just different. It was surprising to note that all three warehouses didn't smell the same, which I think had to do with the fact of the windows being open or closed, rather than what was in them. As a side note, all three tours we took today were free and with easy walking.


One of the lures of these tours is what comes at the end, the tasting. We didn't have a "good" feeling at Jim Beam, our tour guide was good, the tour was interesting, but just as this shows, it was as if Guido and Guido, the bouncer boys, were watching over you. I did get one chuckle out of it, Linda took her first sip and got a horrible look on her face, then didn't finish the sample. The second sample was a new product with a cherry infusion, that one went straight down and I had to check to see if she was licking out the glass.


Next up, and a good distance away was Makers Mark. This one is definitely tucked back up in the hills. As luck would have it, we arrived just as a tour was getting started, and though we missed the first part of the introduction, the tour itself was better than at Jim Beam.


The best part was visiting the fermentation tanks and dipping a finger into sour mash, then licking it off. Dip it into a fresh batch and it is almost sweet. Dip it into an older batch [four days old] and it is easy understand where the term, sour mash, comes from.


The Distiller hard at work. Had to appreciate the spotlessly gleaming copper. Note the white polishing towel that he is leaning on.


I would be remiss if I didn't show the bottling line and the red wax seal dipping process that is Makers Mark's special thing. While it is a little more exciting than watching paint dry, watching wax set up, wasn't high on my list of things to see before I die, though at least I don't have to worry about missing out on it now. Linda must have like it because of the 11 photos taken of the bottling, every one of them was on her camera. [Editor's comment: The real reason I took so many photos, I wanted to get one of the bottle in the wax, did he use my best photo...No.] And no, I wasn't so enthralled by it that I forgot to take any photos.


As always, there was a tasting after the tour. Makers Mark, as we were to learn is a wheat bourbon which makes it sweeter. We must both like sweet things because of all six bourbons that we tasted, we liked the two from here the best.


Our last stop was at Heaven Hill which has a very modern feel to it and had by far the best tour guide [Kathleen] of the day, a lady that was totally into all things Heaven Hill. Unfortunately the things we saw on the tour were limited, but she more than made up up for that. If they could bottle her enthusiasm they could make more off it than their bourbon.


Inside the warehouse we were treated to a number of tales, but you'll have to take the tour to learn what they were.


As always, the tour ended in the tasting room, where we got to sample two of the longer aged bourbons. We also got a lesson in the proper way to drink bourbon, cutting it with a few drops of water to mellow it out, or by simply pouring it over crushed ice. As you can see from the smiles, we had an enjoyable time.


It was great day where we experienced and learned new things. Probably the most interesting part being the people you run into on these tours and especially in the tasting room. I'll leave you to your own imagination as to this one. [Editor's comment: I was not ready for this photo as I was still getting back upon the stool, I remember telling him I was not ready yet! Did he listen? NO!] {{Could the reason she was getting back on the stool be that she fell off of it? I'm not saying, just asking.}}{{By the way, this is the first time in all the years of writing the Daily Journal I have ever responded to one of the editors comments.}}

As to the bourbons we tasted, I'll rate them as I liked them, from worst to best. Worst: Red Stag and Bookers at Jim Beam. Middle: Elijah Craig 18 Year at Heaven Hill and Markers Mark at Markers Mark. Best: Evan Williams Single Barrel at Heaven Hill and best of all, Makers Mark 46 at Makers Mark, by a wide margin. Your results will certainly vary, and with the Evan William's being a single barrel, who's to say I would like the the next bottle from a different barrel the same as did this one. I guess I'll leave it with, a bourbon affectionado I am not. But I do know what I like and and what I don't like. Bottom line, two I didn't like at all, three were so so, and one was very nice. If Linda wants to add her preferences, she can, though I know she said nice things at Makers Mark, and only there.

May 19 Thursday

Visiting Family


For our stay in the Louisville area we chose Grandma's RV Park in Shepherdsville, which is south of Louisville on I-65. The number of parks to choose from is limited, and this one isn't the closest to Louisville, the park across the river in Clarksville, Indiana being nearer downtown. But since the places we were visiting in the area were on this side of town, Shepherdsville made more sense to us.

As you can see from the photo, the sites are all gravel, no trees block the satellite, and they are pull thru's. I know I do not often post about the parks we stay in, but just up the road is a KOA for at least twice the price. They have all the usual KOA amenities, but for the way we live Life, those amenities mean nothing to us. Everyone has their own way of picking the park where they will be staying, just thought I'd give a little insight into why we picked this one.


After yesterday's Daily Journal, I needed something to get back into Linda's good graces, so I came up with cleaning the Explorer's windows with Rain-X, which I thought would really impress her. Hopefully it would also be a way of ensuring that the next few days are rain free as we head off to the Lexington area tomorrow. Funny, but she didn't seem nearly as excited about my efforts as I thought she would be. Just another case of woman not understanding man I guess.


The highlight of the day was a visit with my cousin Kathy Jane and her really neat family. On this side of my family, Kathy and her brother, Dick, are my only first cousins, and it has been many decades since we last met Kathy. Talk about great people, talk about a wonderful time, and with it the realization that we are deeply connected in ways that we may never understand. Sure they are my relatives, but Kathy, Keith, Melissa and Emily are also wonderful examples of what good people truly are.

During our visit we had time to take about our ancestors, and to learn more about them. I enjoyed hearing how Kathy's Dad had been severely wounded in fighting in Italy during WWII. He was an officer, and in the hospital he refused to take his pre-surgery medications, so they had to find a superior officer to order him to take them. The superior officer was a nurse, who happened to be my Dad's sister. One thing lead to another and those two officers ended up spending the rest of their lives together. To uncover the link with the past. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.

May 20 Friday

On to Lexington


Something that we haven't seen for a long time, the appearance of weekender's at the campground. It reminds us that summer is definitely just around the corner, and that where we will be traveling during the next few months, vacationers will also be hitting the road. It will be interesting, given the price of fuel, as to what effect it will have on occupancy rate at the RV parks and campgrounds we stop at.


The hookups at this park are interesting, at least the water and sewer are. First they are placed side by side, which always calls into question just how sanitary they are. Given the number of times we've seen someone rinse out their 3 inch sewer hose right where the hookup is, the rinse water shooting out onto the grass and whatever else is nearby, I'd think the chances are pretty good some of that water is going to get onto the water faucet some of the time.


Looking down into the large diameter PVC pipe that surrounds the water faucet. Besides the above comments regarding sanitation, think about trying to reach down into this and connect the water hose. It is so deep you can't just bend over and do it, you have to put one hand down right where the sewer pipe is to balance yourself. Then getting the hose on with one hand, given the angle of the faucet and the limitations of the pipe, can prove interesting. There is entertainment to be had watching the new arrivals hookup their water.


Yes! We, or I should say Linda finally did it. We now have our checklist that has been talked about ever since the late unpleasantness with the MotoSat. Our granddaughter Abby makes all kinds of things out of duct tape, so Linda decided to emulate her. I thought it was sheer genius making it that way, and the results prove just how smart I truly am. The tabs with the words are cut from file cards, turned with the words up if it is being used, down if it isn't. It is placed on the steering wheel and it is only after a final visual check confirming these items are in travel mode and no words show, that we are ready to leave.


All in the down and ready to travel position. It could be looked at like locking the barn door after the horse has escaped. We think of it as locking the barn door before the rest of the herd escapes, the loss of one having been more than enough.


Leaving the Louisville area was easy by using the I-265 bypass since we were going east to Lexington. We did have our constant Kentucky roadway companion, highway construction, for a good portion of the trip. I actually didn't think the road surfaces were in that bad of shape, but I will say that if the engineers that originally designed these roads were graduates of the University of Kentucky, they really should have been employed as floor sweepers than engineers. I've heard the jokes about Kentucky being a backwards state, but I didn't realize it was true to now, at least when it came to highway design.


It is not the signs that let you know when you are getting close to Lexington, or at least not the highway signs. It is the signs alongside the highway, the perfect wooden fences, the lush grass in the fields, and the horses, and what grand and glorious horses they are. Linda and I have this thing about what is blue and what is green, she seeing green when I see blue. I know blue and this grass certainly wasn't blue. I guess the bluegrass of the bluegrass state was named by a University of Kentucky biology graduate.


It is just about 1 PM when we arrived at our stopping place for the next few days, The Kentucky Horse Park RV Park, a place we had stayed at back in 2006, vowing to return to if we were ever in the area again. It actually has worked out perfectly as what we want to see and do while in the area are mostly convenient to this side of town. We signed up for three nights, but will probably stay a couple more. They did emphasis they were completely booked for the upcoming holiday weekend, but we will be gone by then so no problem.

Not being rushed, we could use the afternoon to sit outside, reading and soaking up the sun. Okay, so I soaked up more sun than Linda, but she did get enough to produce some vitamin D which is all that was necessary anyway. Our meals were simple, lunch being shown, and dinner consisting of slices of beef and pork with papaya. Having consumed part of a bag of almonds neither of us was very hungry when it came time for supper.

The next few days hold more of the Bourbon Trail, as well as a visit to the Horse Park. Actually we are thinking that it will take us two days to finish up the Bourbon Trail, and remembering our last visit to the Horse park, it is impossible to see everything in one day so it will probably be two days for it also. Another plus is that the weather has finally warmed up and should remain warm throughout our stay. So here we find ourselves, enjoying Life, what more could we ask for.

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