Heading west on I64, it was an hour to Louisville, where traffic was rather frantic. It seems to be the case in most big cities, but it makes pulling a trailer nerve-wracking. That said, downtown Louisville is very pretty, and the Ohio River had great color.
Once we crossed the river, we were in Indiana, crossing the bottom of the state. Traffic was still busy, but we stopped at the only rest stop in Indiana – on 64 anyway. Then into Indiana, where there were beautiful farmlands. So we started in Virginia and have traveled across West Virginia, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois and then Missouri.
Crossing the great Mississippi into Missouri, I64 merges with I70 at Wentzville just west of St. Louis. We passed Lake of the Ozarks, and my old stomping grounds at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. So many memories, education and fun in one year! Still dating, Martha and I would meet in St. Louis and have a big time in the big city.
We finally arrived at Cedar Creek Campground, just east of Columbia, Mo. It was a dusty road going in. This is mostly a travel campground, where we could still hear the interstate traffic. It was 95 degrees and hot, but I was having a problem. The galley faucet only dribbled water. The bathroom faucet worked fine. The toiled flushed fine. It was only 3:30, so I dove into the project.
First I removed the strainer on the faucet, which was full of little, brown stuff, but that didn’t fix it. On Martha’s suggestion, I removed the under-the-sink water filter and bypassed it. Still only a dribble of water. removing the filter, I was surprised to see seeds! Mice could only cause this problem. Were they in the trailer?
I had recently had a new fresh water tank installed at Airstream of Virginia. How could this be? Thinking back, I had bought the water tank from the Mother Ship, the Airstream home in Jackson, Ohio. I was surprised to find it unboxed and dirty, but apparently, that is the way they ship them. Thinking I would do the job, I had it sitting out at the RV storage lot for maybe six weeks before I contracted Airstream of Virginia to do the work. With holes in the tank for connections, Mice would have loved their new food storage place.
Disconnecting lines, I think I have narrowed it down to the relatively short faucet lines. I took the faucet off, but couldn’t see how to disconnect the lines from the Moen faucet. It was getting late and it could take a couple more hours to sort this out, so I put it all back together and poured a glass of wine.
The next morning I did some searching on the internet for directions. I got some ideas, but couldn’t really see how to disconnect the water lines where they go up into the faucet. I think I will disconnect the lines under the sink, then remove the faucet with the lines attached and see if I can blow them out or flush with water.
We are starting a trip to the American southwest. It will take four 7-hour days to get to the first of many national parks and monuments. There are also some great state parks, and the more I study the area, the more interesting things I find. Karen and the kids will be joining us for two weeks starting July 1st.
The first drive was to Kentucky Horse Park in Lexington. During my eventing days, I spent a lot of memorable days there. The campground is very nice and has all the amenities. We took a walk around the equestrian area. There have been so many additions, I hardly recognized it. Hard to believe it has been 30 years since I rode here at the peak of my eventing days. My wonderful thoroughbred, Passion, and I placed sixth at the preliminary level, missing an easy, little jump that could have put us in the top four. Passion wasn’t crazy about dressage, and I was rather unschooled in it, so we were in last place after dressage. To finish 6th after that beginning was pretty cool.
Some people were unloading their gear from some very elegant horse trucks. We stopped to talk, and they told us there was a carriage competition starting Thursday. They had a perfectly matched team of four horses. Peeking into the truck, we drooled at a gorgeous, large carriage. It would be so much fun to see this competition. I’ll have to watch their schedule, as they host lots of events, the biggest being the Rolex International 3-day Event.
Approaching the stadium is a very cool statue of the great Bruce Davidson, an incredible 3-day rider. He was Eventing Association’s Rider of the Year in 1975 and then for 14 consecutive years!
Walking through the inside of the beautiful stadium, I felt like I was at the Horseshoe at Ohio State – well not really that big. There was a walk of fame with pictures and stories of some of the legends of jumping and 3-day events. So many great stories, horses and riders! I could have read them all, and we didn’t even go into the museum! We’ll have to come back!
It’s a 7-8-hour drive to the Smokies from Charlottesville, depending on how you go and where you are going, but Martha wanted me to break it up, so I booked a night in Highland Haven Campground outside Roanoke. I went down 29, which is pleasant enough. You just have to be alert to turns. Then 220, to 221 up the mountain. It is not an easy drive to Highland Haven, especially in the rain, but I arrived and met campground hostess, Nancy, and pulled into site 26. This campground is known for its spectacular sunsets, but I wasn’t going to see it tonight. It was hard to see anything.
I drank a half bottle of wine listening to music of Andrew Loyd Webber turned up loud while making a salad. Hope I didn’t wake the neighbors.
I got up at 4:00, read for a while until daylight, then hooked up, filled the water tank and got on the road at 8:00. It was raining lightly as I followed Rt. 221 south through the cute little town of Floyd, famous for its country music.
I thought about Virginia Highland Haven Campground, which is an Airstream only campground that is owned by its campers. When someone is not there, you can rent a site for the very reasonable fee of $35 with full hookups. It’s a beautiful spot with wonderful views looking west.
I have never driven 221, but it’s beautiful country with lovely, mountain farmland and quaint, little towns. Surely it would be more fun to drive when I have more time and it isn’t raining. At Hillsville I got on 77S. The rains became harder and would continue the entire drive, sometimes hard, sometimes light. One hand seemed to be constantly changing the windshield wiper speed. Still, I could see the majority of the big storm was to my west. Traffic was busy, but not as bad as I81. Still, it winds through the mountains to Statesville, where I turned onto I40 west, and into the storm I went.
Sometimes the rains were so heavy, traffic slowed to 45mph. My strategy is to get behind a tractor trailer and follow at a distance that allows stopping, but where I can see his lights. If you are a car driver, you curse the trucks that are slow uphill and fast downhill. If you pull a trailer, you appreciate their professionalism, their knowledge of the roads and their ability to drive in all kinds of weather. They move into the left lane when passing a disabled truck on the shoulder. They blink their lights to let you into their lane. If you let them into your lane, they flash their brake lights to thank you. Actually, they put on their flashers for a second or two. It took me forever to learn how they made those brake lights flash, but without slowing down.
I have the greatest respect for truck drivers. They deliver to every store, merchant, gas station and post office. They are the life blood of our economy. They drive at night or in daytime. They put up with poor car drivers entering the highway at too slow a speed, or changing lanes right in front of them. Whenever I am driving through a city, I follow a truck. It’s like a running back getting behind a 6’6. 360 pound lineman. They run interference for me. When I am in heavy rains like this, I follow a truck, and when I stop following, I flash my headlights or tap my brake lights to thank them for their help. At a rest stop, I laid down for a 1-hour nap. Whew! Renewed energy.
I turned onto 220 south with the rains still coming. In Asheville, I missed a turn and had to go into a Home Depot to turn around and get new directions. I’m still not sure what I was supposed to do. Then onto 221 in heavy rains, then Rt. 19 through Maggie Valley. I’ve been in the mountains all day, and the rain wasn’t helping. When I could barely see the road, I ended up behind a pickup pulling a large water tank on a trailer. In front of him was another truck pulling a trailer with a front end loader on it. They were obviously working together, and they knew these roads, so I continued to follow. When they pulled into a rest area, I did too. Then back out on the road, following. These guys were excellent drivers. When I turned onto 441, I flashed my lights to thank them.
441 is called “The Smoky Mountain Parkway”. Driving through Cherokee, NC I stopped to fill up the gas tank – well the diesel tank in my case. This is a nice little town, not far from the campground. I thought I would be climbing up a steep mountain, but was surprised to see it was fairly level, following the Oconoluftee River. The rains had lightened up, and people were watching elk graze by the Visitor’s Center. I could feel my blood pressure ease.
At 3:00 I pulled up to Smokemont Campground and said my prayers, thanking God for guiding me safely in a difficult two days of driving. In a light rain I parked and leveled the trailer for my 9-day stay. I put the awnings out as it drizzled rain. By the time I finished, the rains stopped. I went for a walk around the campground to get my bearings straight.
It’s a nice campground that would be entirely full by the weekend. Bradley Creek runs through the campground, joining the Oconoluftee River just below the campground. I was interested in fishing both of these, so I walked right over to the stream. High and muddy, as I suspected. It wasn’t terrible, but also not fishable. I wondered how fast it would run out of here. At the north end of the campground, I found the Bradley Creek Trail, which looked more like a highway. I could easily drive my big truck up it, except for the locked gate. As I read the fishing regulations sign, I noticed a yellow caterpiller walking up it. An odd looking creature, it’s black head had four antennae, and there was a black tip on it’s tail. Was this a Yellow Sally nymph? I have no flies that look anything like this. I reached for my phone to take a picture, but had left it in the trailer.
Walking back down the other side of the stream, I talked to an Airstream couple who were dumping rain from their awning. “Did it rain a lot here?” the lady asked. “Oh yes!” I replied. They had gone home for a few days. They were in a nicely shaded spot, but that wasn’t good for their roof covered with solar panels. The husband was deploying two portable panels, aiming them at the sun that was now peeking through the clouds. “One amp”, he noted. “Well” she said, “that’s the end of the rains for a while.” It was nice to see sun peeking through the trees.
As I walked along the stream, I looked tor yellow bugs, but didn’t see any. Back at the trailer, I got the Garmin InReach and turned it on. Without cell phone reception, it is my only means of communicating with Martha. “No signal” the device indicated. I took it up to a clearing, where i could get clear access to the sky. No signal. I waited 15 minutes before giving up. I set it on my little ladder in a clearing behind the trailer, leaving it there while I cooked dinner – ratatouille and chicken. Checking it again, I was happy to see the message and tracking were sent.