On The Road Again . . .

Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway
We're the best of friends
Insisting that the world be runnin' our way - Willie Nelson

Listen to the Audio Version: 

Hi Everyone . . .

I know it's been a while since I've posted anything new here. Frankly, I needed a short break. There were just a lot of things going on and my poor little brain was getting fried.

Additionally, I was devoting time to straightening out the space I had been occupying at my friend's place in WV where I was based camped for way too long. And, I was devoting more time to completing some modifications and changes to “My McVansion” before heading out on the road again. I ran it past my mechanic and we found a few minor things that needed some tightening, replacing or refilling. I wanted to make sure it was road worthy before I started wracking up the miles again.

Just about the time I was finally ready to roll out the door, one of my few remaining clients (from my 50+ year career in the recording & voice-over business) called with a new project. Actually, the 3^rd or 4^th complete update and redo of one of his training programs. I had to record the program at his offices in Fairfax, Virginia (where I have an office at my disposal whenever the need should arise). But, the scripts wouldn't be ready and cleared by his lawyer for another week and a half. So, one more delay, but certainly worth it. Dave and I have been working together on his programs for over 35 years.

So, due to all kinds of circumstances (and probably a few excuses) I got a late, er, make that LATE start, by several months getting back out on the road. My last post was a week or so before I finally headed out, probably close to a month ago. When you're in one place too long, there seems to be a longer transitional period than one might think, at least for me.

So, I headed to northern Virginia as soon as the scripts were ready, bunked in with my Air Force buddy in Falls Church, Virginia for a few nights, recorded the 8 CD's worth of new material with my client, then headed west. Unfortunately, I had to forego all my planned visits and wanderings south of the Virginia border. That bummed me out, but I'll plan more time for that this coming fall and winter.

I did get to visit my long time book editor and his wife, good friends from my book publishing days. I also got a chance to run through Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg, Tennessee and camp for three nights in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park – most pleasant and relaxing (as I spent time editing my client's programs). Since then it's been a continuous road west, doing my best to avoid interstates, although the yesterday was and today will be interstate days. This was only because to get to my destination for the next couple weeks I'd have to go a hundred or more miles out of my way and expend gas money I'd rather conserve at this time. I've actually seen quite a bit of Americana that I haven't seen before on this trip already.

I stopped in Jackson, Tennessee to visit the International Rock-a-Billy Hall of Fame, founded and curated by one Henry Harrison. I had only planned to spend about an hour at the Hall of Fame and then move on to Memphis. But, I met Henry, a delightful and knowledgeable man about the rock-a-billy genre of music and friend of many, if not most, of the notable artists. While there, a delightful woman, Debe, who looked much younger than her age, befriended me. After we left Henry and he closed the Hall of Fame, Debe filled me in on the city of Jackson, drove me past the late Carl Perkins home, then took me over to her new massage salon where I met her husband, David.

We had a delightful dinner and parted ways until Sunday morning when I followed them to their church service – at a Unity Church. I had never been to a Unity Church service before and always wanted to attend one. Seize the opportunities when they arise. That was in Memphis. We spent the rest of the day in Memphis and had dinner on the famous Beale Street, enjoying live entertainment and good food. They also put me in contact with another person I met with on Monday before crossing the Mississippi River and heading west.

This is what is so great about my life and lifestyle. It's one serendipity after another.

So, it's Friday morning as I write this. I'm parked in a Walmart (Motor Inn – bring your own accommodations – as I like to quip) parking lot in Amarillo, Texas. This is where I spent the night last night with other vandwellers and RVers parked all around me – all headed for their own adventures and serendipities. It was wonderfully cool and comfortable sleeping last night and it was a beautiful sunrise shining right in my back window this morning. The temperature was about 49 degrees here at about 3,600' above sea level.

I will be leaving here shortly to head to my destination for the next couple weeks in high desert country of central New Mexico. I'll be meeting up with a fellow full-time traveler and his wife. Sharon is heading out on an adventure of her own with her sister, so John will be baching it for a couple weeks. So we're going to enjoy some of our own adventures. I'll complete my client's project, do a few more things to the van I didn't get to do before I left and enjoy some time to catch up on a lot of reading.

I've received some emails from some of you, my loyal and much appreciated readers. Thank you for your concern. Several of you were concerned something happened to me (illness, accident, died, dropped off the face of the Earth). Let me reassure you, I AM FINE – better than fine, actually. It is so great being back out here on the open roads (and knowing my writings were missed). So, yes indeed, I'll also be WRITING and will be preparing a number of new articles for the blogs.

Yes! I've been taking photos – how could I not. It's what I do. I'll be posting them with some stories to go along.

Some travelers, whether in larger forms of RVs or vans, travel almost continuously. Others select a location and stay there for, perhaps, anywhere from a couple weeks to a couple months, some even longer. I'm kind of between those two extremes. I don't like to be traveling everyday. But, sometimes I may do that in short spurts like I am right now. But, when I get to an area that I really like and can find a comfortable place to park for several days to a couple weeks or so. I do that and spend time on my personal projects and writing. I may venture out from there and do day trips to explore the region.

So, life is grand. As the late Gene Autry wrote and sang, I'm back in the saddle again, out where a friend is a friend . . . Stay tuned! My batteries are recharging and getting near full. There is so much to write about and discuss. Keeping life simple, living free and being happy in a world full of turmoil. This may be one of, what may turn out to be, the most historic election cycles in our country's history. We could end up (I'm not making any predictions or endorsements) with the first non-political establishment president in 64 years since Dwight Eisenhower or the first woman president since the beginning of our national history. Who knows? It's an exciting time to be alive, yet there is certainly much to fear and be concerned about. Let me finish this article with this quote from “A Tale of Two Cities” by Charles Dickens:

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

Nothing is really all that new except for the technology and the players. That's why it's important for us to live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #260 - Sunrise On The Atlantic, New Beginnings, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, January 2009

This is IT! For all of you who have tuned in each week for this simple feature I've called my Photo-of-the-Week, this is the 260^th photo article. I said this is it, because after 260 consecutive weeks or five years, I'm ending this series. And, NO, it's not because I've run out of photos. Believe me, I have several thousand photos to continue choosing from. I'm simply tired and bored with producing this particular weekly article.

I chose this particular photo as the final one because it doesn't represent the “end” rather, as a sunrise, it represents the “beginning.” Literally, this photo depicts the beginning of a new day. And if you hadn't noticed, this is a day late. I usually post these photos on Sundays. So, while this is the end of this weekly feature and series, it's also the beginning of something new. I'm not sure exactly what that is, yet. But, it will be coming pretty soon. Possibly, it might begin as early as next week.

If you haven't figured it out, yet, I thoroughly enjoy sunrises and sunsets. This sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean was taken in January of 2009. I shot it from the balcony of a hotel room in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. A buddy and I were on one of our spur of the moment, spontaneous expeditions in January of 2009. There were very few people at Myrtle Beach at the time since it's a summer resort and most people don't go to the Atlantic beaches during the winter. That suits me just fine since I don't like crowds. But, the temperatures can be quite moderate at the more southerly Atlantic beaches and the sunrises and sunsets are still glorious.

I actually featured another shot from this series several months ago, except, for some unexplicable reason, I called it a sunset. The sun doesn't set in the eastern sky over the Atlantic from Myrtle Beach. I guess I wasn't paying much attention to detail. This is definitely a sunrise and, in my opinion, a beautiful one. I especially, like the clouds and the palm fronds in the photo. They add “color” and texture to the vibrancy of the sunrise colors.

Where to from here? I'm not sure. Since I operate a dash cam while I'm traveling, I may start posting some short video clips of interesting places as I travel the highways and byways (mainly the byways) of the U.S. There may also be some screen capture shots from the videos if there is something specific I want to highlight. The videos may have voice-over narrations instead of printed article descriptions (articles). I'm not sure exactly what form future posts will take, yet. I'll most likely do some experimenting until I find the new formula I like.

I'll be heading out on the road again within the next several days. I'll be experimenting with the new dash cam I recently installed in My McVansion. It appears to take some pretty good high definition video. Of course, I'll have to be sure to keep the windshield clean, since “bug season” is already beginning.

I plan to take a lot more photos and a lot of video since I have added more camera power and accessories to my media arsenal. The van is now set up for both video editing and production as well as high quality voice overs. I'm planning to finally launch a podcast series and the YouTube channel I've had for a while, but have not posted any videos on, yet. So, stay tuned. This wandering nomadic vagabond has lots of roads and miles to explore and new stuff in store. I hope you'll enjoy it and share the blog, podcast and YouTube channel with your friends. It's time to extend my reach and motivate more people to live freely.

Live free and be happy! EH 

Photo-of-the-Week #258 – A Different Perspective, Duck, North Carolina, March 2008

Another water theme photo. I've always like this photo because it represents a different perspective and a kind of juxtaposition.

This photo was taken from the beach under the Duck Research Pier, US Army Corps of Engineers, Field Research Facility in early March (we call that winter) 2008. A good friend has a timeshare beach house not far from this pier that I have had the good fortune to utilize occasionally with a group of friends.

The pier is quite tall and, obviously, very sturdy. It's primary purpose is scientific research into tides, impacts of hurricanes and nor'easters, water depth surveys and a variety of weather related studies. The facility has been in place since 1977. It's 1,840 feet long. It's work has been recognized internationally.

It's quite easy to walk under since it's so high. But, I always enjoy the interesting perspective being under the pier with the colors on the cement and metal pilings. So, maybe I have a weird definition of art, but to me, this is . . . well, unique. There may be other piers like this in other places. I just don't recall seeing them or being as intrigued as I am with this particular pier.   

Photo-of-the Week #257 – I Need This Place – Any Beach Will Do, Boca Grande, Florida, January 2014

It's April 3, 2016 as I write this. It was snowing when I got up this morning. Give me a break. I looked outside and thought, “Oh no! This is a nightmare, I'm back in Syracuse, New York again and it's 1968 or 1969.”

Okay! It's spring. It is, at least, according to the calendar. I was supposed to be in the southwest by now, where it might be a bit chilly in the evenings, but warmer and sunny during the days. I spent another winter – unplanned – in the east in what may be considered the Mid-Atlantic region, but more properly, Appalachia.

The wind blew hard, probably gusting to 50 or more miles per hour. The rain came down in torrents for a good part of the night. This morning, the wind was still blowing, the Arctic blast came during the night and it was snowing when I woke up. Now, it's later in the day, the snow has stopped, the wind has died down to a light breeze, the sun is out and the sky is blue.

I need a dose of beach, salt water and bikini babes. There's nothing like feeling the warm sand running through my toes as I walk on the beach. I also enjoy the rays of the sun on my body. The sound of a gentle surf and some sea birds is like a lullaby. And pretty young women in skimpy bikinis quicken the heart rate of a guy my age, whose mind keeps trying to trick me into believing I'm going on 33.

So, I pulled this photo from two years ago on the Gulf coast in Florida. I remember where I was and who I was with. Unfortunately, while Tommy is a terrific guy and I enjoy his company, he just wasn't a cute babe in a bikini. But, I captured a shot of this one.

Padre Island National Seashore is calling to me. I'll be heading to Texas and I won't be far from Padre Island. It's been about 13 years since I was last there. I just may have to pull myself up a piece of beach to park on for a few days and enjoy the sun, surf, sand and hopefully a bevy of bikini babes. I have my sunscreen packed. Live free and be happy. EH 

Photo-of-the-Week #256 – Far From The Maddening Crowd. Sonoran Desert, Quartzsite, Arizona March 2015

Ah! Sweet memories. Just a little over a year ago, this was my location. I was staying on U.S. Bureau of Land Management (BLM) land in one tiny segment of the Sonoran Desert. In the distance, at night, you could see the lights from the small town of Quartzsite. Otherwise, this was a peaceful place in the middle of a lot of desert territory away from the congestion of larger towns and cities.

I wasn't actually alone. There were folks camping throughout this and other BLM territories all over this region of the country. In this area, there were five other folks in residency. There were four women and one other man. We each chose a small parcel of land and left enough space between each party to provide the privacy we each cherished. Yet, we were close enough that we could easily gather around a campfire at night and even share an occasional communal meal.

You could almost say we had our cake and could eat it, too. That's really a big part of this kind of alternative lifestyle. Each person had a different educational, occupational/professional and spiritual background. Each lived with different financial means. Each brought unique skill sets to the table and shared them as they might help another member of this ragtag, informal, unlikely crew. Different interests and different origins from different parts of the U.S. Yet, at this one time, drawn together for this short period to this small commune. And then . . . we'd scatter in different directions.

The rules were simple. Each to his own, except when invited or inviting to share time, resources, conversation, meals, humor, knowledge, wisdom and skills with one or more of the others. Each member of this spontaneous, temporary commune was self-sufficient and didn't require the others, but it was nice to have some social camaraderie.

The words commune, community and even communism all have their origin in the English, French and Latin words meaning common. Communes and communities are basically more social forms of groupings for certain common interests of those living within the social structure.

Communes are, by their nature, smaller groups of people, generally with reasonably close and common interests. They share the living experience and typically each contributes voluntarily to the group based on their talents and skills.

Communities are similar, but generally larger, usually more diverse and more structured. They typically have a much more defined hierarchy of leadership with more defined rules, codes and laws to, a generally accepted degree, benefit everyone in the community.

Communism is, again, similar, but different. Communism as envisioned and expounded by Karl Marx is both a social AND an economic system. It basically doesn't recognize the individual rights of anyone. Everyone is the same. Everyone is supposedly equal. No one owns anything. Everything is owned by the central authority or government, if you will. While the most basic premise seems Utopian in theory, in practice, it's oppressive and repressive. A small elite group controls everything and everyone, supposedly for the “greater good.” As most everyone has witnessed, communism doesn't work.

I have a group of friends in my former hometown in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. We are all single, mostly divorced, some widowed. On several occasions, because we enjoyed each others' company, we had deep discussions about forming our own commune. While we were diverse educationally, professionally, financially, spiritually and we each came from different parts of the U.S. originally, we genuinely liked one another. We had even traveled and lived communally for a week at a time on several occasions. Some of the group did some serious research on the concept.

It never manifest in an actual plan. While we could agree on most facets of creating such a commune, there was at least one big issue we couldn't resolve . . . location. If the members of the group were going to give up what they had to become a member of this small association (we envisioned not more than, perhaps, 12 people), everyone wanted it to be in a place each dreamed of living. Some wanted to be near the ocean. Some wanted to be in a rural area. Some wanted to live in the mountains. Some preferred a lake setting. Thus, this seemingly, almost perfect dream never came about.

That's the beauty of what this week's photo-of-the-week represents to me. I can be part of a small commune of reasonably like minded individuals I can relate with. And, then two weeks later be by myself somewhere or part of a different communal group. Many thanks to the folks I shared this time with for including me and for the friendship. And, many thanks to the people in other small communal groups I've been included in. I look forward to more opportunities in the future to share communal time with all of you.

As an aside, I'm putting together an addition to My McVansion. Last year I had to wait for the sun to move to lower positions in the sky to cast some shade. Shade is especially useful on very bright, hot days. So, this year, I'm adding a nice canopy to the right side of the van. It will provide shade from the sun and shelter from damp, rainy days all day from sun up to sun down. One is always working at improving their home and that's true for vandwellers and RVers as well. Live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #255 There Is Something About Water, Lake Murray, Chapin, South Carolina, May 2010

There is something about water that draws me to it. I'm not a fisherman, though I've done a little fishing. I'm not a huge water sports person, though I've swam, surfed, body surfed, snorkeled, scuba dived, water skied and done some boating. I enjoy oceans, gulfs, lakes - great and small, ponds, rivers - large and small, brooks and creeks and even swimming pools and hot tubs.

I'm not sure, but I believe all humans are drawn to water. Perhaps, it' s because our beginnings go back to the primordial soup (waters) where all life began. And, of course, water is absolutely essential to our existence considering water makes up about 60% of the adult human body with some variations based on the time of the month and the gender.

At any rate, I love mountains. I love lush green forests. I love beautiful green fields. I love rugged and arid deserts. I tolerate concrete and asphalt (city/suburban) landscapes and I deal with them when I have to. But, I not only love water, but I'm drawn to it. I lived on a the shore of a small lake for several years and it was a wonderful time of my life. I could do that again. Actually, with my current nomadic lifestyle living in my magical mobile micro condo, I can do it whenever I choose.

This week's photo-of-the-week was taken from the end of my good friends, Al and Margaret Walkers' dock right behind their home in Chapin, South Carolina. This is Lake Murray. Chapin is known as “The Capital of Lake Murray.” The lake is actually a huge reservoir created in 1920. It's 41 miles long and 14 miles wide at its widest and has some 500 miles of shoreline. Man made or not, it is a beautiful body of water and is the home of all kinds of fresh water aquatic life. And, of course, it draws the human species to its shores, including my friends, Al and Margaret. Live free and be happy. EH  

Photo-of-the-Week #252 Blue Sky, Blue Sea, Sandy Beach – Padre Island, Texas, September 2003

I seem to be focusing a lot on sun, sky, sea and beach these days. That's probably because, That's what I'm yearning for after this long period off the road. But, my departure is imminent. My storage is all compressed down from three units to one unit. I've sold off a lot of stuff. My cash reserves are back up again and I'm prepping My McVansion for rolling down the highways and byways.

Look out America! Here I come and I'm chomping on the bit. Hope to meet up with anyone who reads this blog as I travel. Let me know if you're in my path and we'll see if we can arrange a meet-up.

Short and sweet this week – just enjoy that fresh salt breeze.

Live free and be happy. EH 

Photos-of-the-Week #246 The Heart (Engine) Surgeons at One-Stop, Hawthorne, California, January 2015

One year ago at this time I was “stranded” in Hawthorne, California with My McVansion. It was a trying time. As you may recall, I was on my way from Clovis (Fresno), California where I spent Christmas and the changing of the year with my former mother-in-law, brother and sister-in-law, my nephews and niece and my son and my former wife, his mother.

It was a bit of a special time for me since it was the first time all of us had actually spent a Christmas together in 25 years. For me, that was a really nice Christmas present. Unfortunately, I didn't know what new “adventure” was awaiting me when I would leave Clovis on January 5, 2015.

I had just had the van hand-washed and an exterior detailing job done. It looked pretty. I had two new tires mounted on the rear of the van. I took off heading over the mountains from the central valley of the Golden State and as I was climbing to the Tejon Pass on I-5 heading to the LA area to visit my son at his place . . . My McVansion suffered a “heart attack.” Yes! The heart of my condo on wheels blew halfway up the mountain to the pass.

Fortunately, I could get the engine to run again. It was pretty noisy and had no power. I limped at an average of 10 to 15 mph over the mountain, through the San Fernando Valley and to the South Bay area, Hawthorne, to be precise, where my son lived. I drove on the shoulder of I-5. It was a very long and tedious drive, never knowing when and where the engine may completely die. But, I made it.

Here I was, about 2,800 miles from my familiar home territory and my mechanic of 25 years. But, then the greatest thing happened. I went on line searching for a place to look over the engine and determine the situation, and, of course, break the bad news I was expecting. I found a place in Hawthorne, only about two or three miles from my son's place, by the name of One-Stop Engine Rebuilding.

I called and I reached a gentleman by the name of Wilson. And a gentleman he was. We chatted by phone and he told me to bring the van over the next day for an “examination” and “diagnosis.” I did, and as I suspected, the news was not good. But, thankfully, all was not hopeless and My McVansion wasn't terminal.

I found a cracker jack, top drawer team of automotive engine technicians, all certified by the ASE. They were courteous, careful, knowledgeable and highly skilled with a reputation that preceded them. Wilson, the owner and leader of the team of “surgeons” couldn't have been a nicer person to work with. He was honest and always in control. He also had a wonderful personality and sense of humor.

Wilson's father had started in the engine rebuilding business in the '80's. Although he had suffered a stroke, he was still active in the business. Wilson also had a brother who worked with them. The rest of the team were terrific, too. I couldn't have asked for a nicer bunch of people to work with and handle this problem for me.

In the photo at the top of the article, Wilson is the second from the right. There are two other members of the team who are not pictured, they were not available when I took this photo.

They took the engine out of My McVansion, stripped it down, steam cleaned everything, replaced specific vital components with new ones, machined and made sure anything that could be re-installed was perfect. Here you see My McVansion's “heart” re-installed after being rebuilt into the next best thing to a new engine. They were terrific and allowed me back in the shop throughout the entire process to see everything they were doing. Even though I had studied automotive technology in the mid 1960's a lot had changed. They gave me a good understanding of the modern V8 engine and what makes it tick.

Once the engine was rebuilt and installed back in the van's “chest cavity,” it was a thing of beauty. It ran perfectly. Well, perfectly except for a problem with overheating exhaust manifolds. That presented a new can of worms. With a like new engine that ran like it had just come out of the engine factory, this wasn't right.

Wilson wouldn't release the van to me this way. He now realized that the demon that had caused the problem in the first place, was still dwelling somewhere in the engine or something connected to the engine. He also knew that if he released it to me, it wouldn't be very long before this demon would create the same conditions and the engine would blow again. Wilson, in his collaborative and communicative way explained, even though everything about the engine was running to factory specifications, my engine didn't display the typical reasons engines fail when they are brought to him.

He explained that most engines he receives and works on come with no oil in the crankcase or no coolant in the cooling system and sometimes both. My engine's coolant was perfect and so was my oil and the levels of both were to factory specifications. Whatever it was was, for him and his team, an anomaly. Here, again, is something I admire and am very happy about. Wilson refused to give up until he found the problem and resolved it.

Was this a huge inconvenience to me? It sure was. I ended up imposing on my son's hospitality for two months. But, my son was great and, frankly, we hadn't spent that much time together in almost 12 years. So, it was an unexpected gift/blessing for me. But, it was also a major inconvenience to Wilson and his team. He had limited space and bays to work on other customers' vehicles. Now, he had this one behemoth van taking up much needed space. Not to mention he hadn't charged me a dime, so far.

At long last, his perseverance paid off. He tried everything he and the team could think of. Then he finally consulted an automotive “neurosurgeon” who found this tiny gremlin hiding deep inside one of the engine systems. The system was replaced and, viola, EVERYTHING was perfect finally. He road tested it and then had me road test it for a few days. Happy! Happy! Happy! Finally, the van was no longer blocking his space.

He presented me with the final costs and, as I stated in the beginning, Wilson is a gentleman and honest. The bill was exactly as he said it would be. He added nothing on for all the extra time he and his team had to continue working on it. The only thing he added on was the cost of the automotive “neurosurgeon's” services finding and fixing the elusive gremlin.

So, if you're ever in the LA area and have engine problems with your vehicle – van, car, pick-up, SUV (I don't think he can tackle a larger RV, but you can always ask him) and you have an engine problem, I can HIGHLY recommend and commend One-Stop Engine Rebuilding as the first place to call and take your vehicle. Fair prices. Honest people. Certified technicians. Stand behind their work. Courteous. Friendly. Can you really ask for more?

The engine now has 12,000 miles on it and is performing perfectly (although I still knock on wood as I write this - who's superstitious?). It's about ready for its next oil change and I'll be switching over to synthetic oil, my preferred kind of oil for all my vehicles for the past 40 years.

So, while I'm still here in the east. I plan to make my way to visit with Wilson and the team when I get back into the LA area. Never lose a valued contact and connection when you're a nomadic traveler. Live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #245 Winter Sunrise On The Atlantic, Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, January 2009

There isn't much to say that this photo doesn't say for itself. As you know I love sunrises and sunsets. This is another one that takes my breath away. Of course, it was even more awesome in person, standing on the beach as I experienced the event.

A travel buddy and I decided we needed to travel a little to get away from the drabness of the winter in the Washington, DC area where he lives and I was staying at the time. This was just what the doctor ordered for us. I hope you enjoy these sunset and sunrise pictures as much as I enjoy taking them. 

Photo-of-the-Week #244 Feeling Lucky? Q Resort & Casino, Winterhaven, California, March 2015

They sure are elaborate. Gambling casinos, I'm talking about. For the longest time the only time I had been in a gambling casino was back in the 80's when I was at the Resort International Casino in Atlantic City to record a seminar on telemarketing. I went down to the casino the first evening, took $20.00 with me (locked the rest of my cash in my room) and returned to my room with . . . $0.00. Lesson learned.

Since that time I've been in casinos in West Virginia, Florida, Arizona, California and Oregon. There may have been one or two other places, but they obviously didn't make a big impression on me. Actually, they all pretty much look (and sound) the same to me. They are glitzy, glamorous and noisy. I can add gambling to the number of things I'm not prone to becoming addicted along with alcohol, drugs of any kind, adrenalin rushes and compulsive buying. Now, I do enjoy eating, but I'm not particularly addicted to any specific thing. What does that leave . . . hmmm, sex? Not sure I've ever found myself in a situation to test that as a possible addiction, well, maybe once. But, I can't say I'm addicted. So, I guess I can cross that off the list, too.

I don't get it. I go into these casinos and walk through from early morning until late at night, actually all night long, there are people there. They sit at the “one-armed” bandits, although they are all electronic now, like zombies playing one, two and three slot machines at a time. It boggles my mind. Obviously, some people must get lucky, but I just can't buy into it. I stay at casinos when I travel because most of them offer free overnight parking for RVers. I'll go in and usually patronize their snack bars and restaurants (many have really great breakfasts at excellent prices). Beyond that, like I said, I just don't get it.

Live free and be happy. EH

Photo-of-the-Week #239 The Badlands of South Dakota, September, 2010

Here is just one of the many vistas of this unique landscape. This is in Badlands National Park in South Dakota. It's one more example of the awesome scenery, topography and geology that makes up the United States.

I drove through Badlands National Park the first time in late September of 2010 when I drove to Rapid City to finalize my change of residence and domicile to South Dakota and obtain my South Dakota drivers license. This is the fifth state I've held a drivers license from and had voting privileges.

It continues to amaze me how much there is to see just in the lower 48 of the United States. I've only scratched the surface and I've been traveling around this country for the better part of 50 years. Of course, a good part of that was on business, so the travel was mainly to major cities and metropolitan areas. But, now, while I've been to most of the major cities and metro areas, my focus is really on exploring the smaller cities and towns and the natural wonders of this land.

Of course, there is even more to see in Canada, Alaska and Mexico. I dare say, I have a lifetime of travel and exploration ahead of me without even leaving the North American continent. There are still a few places I'd like to see overseas, but frankly, with the hassles and inconveniences of air travel these days and so much turmoil in various parts of the world, for the most part, I'll be just as happy to visit the rest of the world through travelogues on large, flat screen, 3D TV's.

No, it's not the same as actually going to the places, eating the food, smelling the aromas and mingling with the people, but I've learned that everyone will die with “unfinished business.” So, I will still be looking for an opportunity to revisit New Zealand and I'd love to get to Australia. I would also like to revisit Ireland.

There are places in Europe I haven't been, but that's okay. I wouldn't mind getting back to Prague and Budapest. I've been to China, but frankly, from what I've seen of the explosive growth and pollution there, it's not high on my list to revisit. I wouldn't mind spending some more time in Hawaii and exploring the Big Island. I'd also enjoy visiting some of the Caribbean Islands and revisiting the Bahamas.

That's a lot of territory to cover in the X number of good travel years I have left ahead of me. Wherever I make it to will be a gift and I'm going to continue enjoying the lifestyle of a nomadic wanderer.

Live free and be happy. EH 

Photo-of-the-Week #236 – The Sandy Hook Lighthouse – 2,500 Miles Removed, Lake Havasu, Arizona, May 2015

Behold, what you are looking at this week is a miniature model of the replica of the Sandy Hook (New Jersey, my home state) Lighthouse which is 15 miles from this location on Lake Havasu and approximately 2,500 miles from the actual, real McCoy on Sandy Hook in New Jersey. Go figure.

So, now I've seen the actual, original Sandy Hook Lighthouse and the model of the replica on the opposite side of the continent. I didn't actually go to see the life size replica. I'll look forward to doing that the next time I'm in Lake Havasu City.

Here is the “Rest of the Story” as Paul Harvey would say. This information is on the plaque to the right of the “monument” of the replica of the original. What? Does any of this make sense? Maybe I should just say . . . “Only in America.”

Photo-of-the-Week #231 One Instant In Time, Sparta, North Carolina, August, 2011

That's all it takes to change the course of your life. Just one Instant in time. In this particular instant, actually, a couple nights before I took this photo, I was driving this car. I finally found this particular car and bought it less than a year before in September of 2010. I had already acquired my South Dakota license plates and left as soon as I put them on the car for Rapid City, South Dakota to complete my official residence change and obtain my South Dakota drivers license. This car was destined to be the “toad” (RV slang for the car towed behind a motor home) for the motor home I was shopping for. And, in one instant all my plans changed.

Yes, you're looking at a totaled 2002 Ford Focus that had the low mileage, the exact door, seating and cargo configuration, the five-speed manual transmission, the engine and other features I specifically wanted. It even had a satellite radio receiver installed. It took me two months to find this particular car. I downsized from my 1996 Cadillac Seville STS, one of my favorite cars of all time. I had 256,000 miles on the old Caddy. I bought it with 104,000 miles on the odometer. The Focus was about 8 years old when I bought it and only had a few thousand miles over 50,000 on the odometer. Then . . . 

a kamikaze deer shot out of the darkness of the night and in that instant everything

about my future plans changed. No! I wasn't hurt, just a little stunned. I didn't even make contact with the airbag when it deployed. And, therein, lies the crux of the matter. There was no one in the passenger seat, but both airbags deployed as you can see in this photo.

When the insurance adjuster went over the car, he had to total the car. The actual damage to the front of the car, headlight, grill and windshield were all repairable at nominal expense. It was those two airbags that moved the car into the totaled category. They brought the cost of repairs well over the threshold that made sense for the insurance company.

Obviously, one doesn't plan for an accident, therefore they always happen at an inopportune time. This was no exception. The insurance company had me in a rental car virtually immediately. So, I had wheels. However, due to my schedule and upcoming events, I had absolutely no time to go shopping for a replacement for this vehicle. It took me two months to find this Ford Focus, so I fully expected it to take that much time or possibly longer to find another car matching my precise requirements as the “toad” I had planned this car to be.

Ultimately, by the middle or end of September I had changed my plans. I decided to alter my plans for a motor home and a toad. I decided to find either a Class B or Class B+ van based motor home or a high-top conversion van I could modify myself to use as both a tiny house on wheels and a daily driving vehicle. I looked at a couple vehicles, but ultimately decided on the self modified, high-top conversion van, now known as My McVansion.

The positive outcome is the change in plans saved me from paying insurance on two vehicles, double maintenance, upkeep, operating expense, repairs, depreciation and the cost to modify the “toad” vehicle for towing. The frustration is that I had sold a beautiful high-top conversion van with a slightly larger engine, nicer interior and even lower mileage only about 18 months earlier.

Such is life! Everything can change in an instant. It certainly did for that kamikaze deer. It's “lights” went out permanently in that instant. Of course, I'm very thankful I didn't lose control and roll the car or hit a tree or worse. Ultimately, perhaps, there was a message from the universe in that event. Although, I just think it was a standard dumb deer doing what dumb deer do and I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time that night. 

Photos-of-the-Week #230 Fish n Chips – Mmmmm! Coos Bay, Oregon, May 2015

I'm not going to deny it, I love food! As a matter of course, since I live a simple, minimal and frugal lifestyle by choice, I enjoy a simple menu with foods I can easily keep and prepare in or outside My McVansion. BUT, I will splurge from time to time when the occasion calls for it. And this occasion called for it.

This order of fish and chips was so good, I almost forgot to stop and take a picture. Those two large pieces in the back of the tray are the remains of several large pieces of deliciously breaded and fried, hand cut fish. I believe she told me they used halibut. The cole slaw was homemade and very fresh. The tartar sauce is also homemade. Unfortunately, as seems to have become the standard, the chips, aka french fries, were of the commercial variety. Had the fries been real, English style, homemade “chips,” the meal would have been perfect. It was still excellent. (Side note: That is ice tea in the Coke Zero cup in the photo, I don't drink most carbonated soft drinks.)

No! I will not deprive myself of some of the great food tastes of our world . . . even if it is fried and I know fried food is “bad” for me. I don't want to be one of the health advocates who eat nothing but the best, organically grown, hand processed, healthy food and one day die . . . of nothing. We're all going to die one day and I aim to enjoy my share of pleasures before I do. So, some food may not be the healthiest and best, but it tastes good, so I'll indulge, guilt free.

This seafood delight is one of the most popular dishes, er, make that baskets, on the menu at the Fishermen's Seafood Market in Coos Bay, Oregon. Maybe I should rephrase that to say “on” the bay at Coos Bay, Oregon. As you can see, the place is actually on a floating dock off the main boardwalk that parallels the Oregon Coast Highway, Rt. 101.

I couldn't have asked for a better day to drive through Coos Bay. The weather was beautiful. The town was vibrant and busy with a three block farmers and outdoor market with a festival atmosphere. I had so many choices of locally grown, raised and prepared foods, including a great looking hot dog stand – yes, I was tempted.

But, I parked a few parking spaces down on the Oregon Coast Highway from the gangplank leading to the Fishermen's Seafood Market. It caught my eye. I asked a couple local people about it and they gave it a hearty thumbs up. So, my choice was made.

It's quite small and it's very simple and quaint inside. As you can see, it is a seafood market with fresh seafood in the case on the left side of the photo. So, you can buy, fresh, local seafood or you can buy prepared meals (notice the menu is small and limited) and take it out, or you can eat in at one of the four tables and chairs in the very small dining area. I, obviously, chose to eat in and enjoy the ambiance.

Now, to be honest, the best fish n chips I've ever had, to date, was still somewhere between Amagansett, New York and Montauk Point, at the eastern tip of Long Island. I'm remembering back about 35 years because my son was about two years old and he's now 37. The place was on the side of the road, near the ocean, probably on a sand dune, if my rememberer is still picturing it, even semi accurately. It was certainly not pretentious.

I was told, and I don't know how accurate this story is either, the place had been established on that spot about 300 years ago when some of the early colonists were making their way to the New World. Maybe that's a wive's (or fish) tale. I do know it was like other, similar, established, family places that had been around for a long time and handed down through generations. I've not been back to that precise area since that time, but the fish n chips are burned in my memory.

So, the bottom line, Fishermen's Seafood Market in Coos Bay, Oregon, Mmmmmm, good. If you're in Coos Bay (and you'd have to, pretty much, go out of your way to be in Coos Bay), do try it. I believe you'll find it worth your time and your taste buds will thank you.  

Photos-of-the-Week #229 A Touch of London Town in the Desert, Lake Havasu City, Arizona, April 2015

So, here we are at the London Bridge. Yes! That London. But, No! Not in Merry Old England.

It was in the early 60's when this little wide spot in the Arizona desert across the Colorado River from California became a small town and the site of a unique undertaking. The historic London Bridge from the British city by the same name was purchased from the City of London. It was painstakingly disassembled and each component carefully numbered and shipped to the U.S.

After arriving in Lake Havasu City where preparations had already been made, the London Bridge was reconstructed to its former glory. It was opened to the public in 1971 and remains a unique tourist attraction of this isolated desert city with a current year round population of around 52,500 people. This location has become a very popular spring break destination for thousands of college students each spring. The activities of these students has been the subject of much controversy over the years.

Everything that Lake Havasu City has become, including the acquisition and reconstruction of the London Bridge is the brainchild of Robert P. McCulloch, the man behind the famous McCulloch Chain Saw. He bought the land to create the city, opened three McCulloch manufacturing plants there and provided over 2,700 free flights on his own Lockheed Constellation to bring prospective buyers to visit the fledgling city to purchase lots and begin populating the area.

I find it all pretty remarkable, especially when one takes into consideration that Robert McCulloch died at the early age (by today's standards) of 66.

It's an interesting and pleasant place to visit. However, I would avoid going there during the spring break time, unless you're a voyeur and want to watch a bunch of young people going wild. This was the locale, along with New Orleans, for much of the filming of the somewhat infamous “Girls Gone Wild” video series.

I'd also avoid visiting during the late spring, summer and early fall months when the temperatures easily top out between the high 90's and the record high of 128 degrees. during the day. The nights are cooler during that time, but seldom below the mid 80's and often upwards of 94 degrees.

Photo-of-the-Week #227 You Don't See This Everyday, LaVale, Maryland, September 2013

LaVale, Maryland is a suburb of Cumberland, Maryland in what's known as the "panhandle" in the western part of the state. It's about 22 miles north of my West Virginia base camp. As you can tell from the photos, this is the parking lot at the Walmart Supercenter and these are vehicles you won't see everyday.

I was in the LaVale (also spelled Lavale and La Vale, I can't be sure which is the most accepted) Walmart picking up some items for My McVansion that were not in stock in the New Creek, West Virginia store. When I came out to the parking lot, there was this unusual tow car and teardrop trailer. 

Obviously, the car was an antique and had been nicely restored. It reminded me of the old black and white, cops and robbers movies from the 1930's that either the police drove or the mobsters drove. Probably both when you think about it. The trailer appeared to be a homemade teardrop trailer. It looked to be built very sturdy, but it just didn't quite have that commercial "finish" to it.

I snapped a few photos and waited a short time to see if the owner(s) could fill me in on both vehicles. Alas, I couldn't wait all that long and they didn't return, so I never met the owners or had an opportunity to learn more about this RV arrangement one won't see everyday. It's just another example of the originality, uniqueness and individuality of the mobile lifestyle. 

Photo-of-the-Week #226 Security With Style, Charleston, South Carolina, December 2004

There are bars and there are bars. No, I'm not talking about places you imbibe adult beverages or the kind you find in correctional institutions. I'm talking about the kind homes and businesses install on their windows and doors to keep the occupants of the house or business safe and secure from theft and physical harm. And who would perpetrate such theft and physical harm? They are the individuals who may patronize the bars where one imbibes alcoholic beverages and who often end up behind the bars in the correctional institutions.

Charleston, South Carolina is a city with a long history, including being recognized as the location of the start of the U.S. Civil War. It's a city of considerable charm. Many parts of the city feature homes and commercial areas dating back well over a hundred years and in many cases over three hundred years. There is an elegance in this city reminiscent of the "Old South." The wrought iron stylized bars on this window are indicative of the Old South and that elegance.

No plain bars on my windows, please. 

Photo-of-the-Week #225 New York From The New Jersey Palisades, Northern New Jersey, October 2013

This photo is self-explanatory. During the second of my two New Jersey 2013 treks, this one in October, I was again retracing many of the "footsteps" of my youthful days growing up in Northern New Jersey. The actual purpose for this trek was to attend a wedding on the eastern end of Long Island. I had completed that part of the journey just before I was back in Jersey and cruising up along the Palisades (fairly sheer cliffs on the northern New Jersey side of the Hudson River).

As the sign indicates one can see a lot from this overlook on the edge of the Palisades. While I was only about 15 miles from where I lived in Clifton, New Jersey as a kid, I didn't get to this specific overlook very often back then. I did spend more time a few miles further south in the Fort Lee and Palisades Park area of the Palisades with the summer job I had during the summer breaks while attending college.

You can tell by the fall colors that this was definitely that time of year. Despite the fact this region is one of the most densely populated parts of the U.S., there is still a lot of wooded area. Some of the views along the Palisades are spectacular during the fall.  

Photos-of-the-Week #223: Sweet Memories--Fall On The Ranch, Winchester, Virginia, October, 2008

Today's photos are about reminiscing. It's just nice to be able to stop, relax and recall some wonderful past memories. This is a photo I shot along the front fence line looking north with the early morning sunrise to my right and the long, relaxed shadows. It's obviously the fall of the year with the resplendent colors Mother Nature reveals during this season as the northern hemisphere prepares for the coming winter and its muted tones.

The ranch provided so many awesome Kodak moments. The rolling pastures, the stark black fences, the beautiful forested areas, lots of different kinds of wildlife and birds including eagles and hawks. Of course, the horses in the pastures were a subject unto themselves. They are not pictured in this photo.

This photo is the old ranch house with the morning sun lighting it up. This was during my last month living on the ranch, so it's particularly poignant. If you look closely, you'll see "stuff" on the porch I was eliminating through "moving sales" during this period. I have so many fond memories of standing (and sitting) on this porch in the early morning. It was glorious and the view was mine, all mine, for about six years of my life.

I also have fond memories of sitting on this porch in the evening as the sun was setting. The house faced east, so the sunset was behind the house and it was all wooded back there, so I didn't get to see the actual sunsets. But, Nature was kind and usually reflected the beautiful colors, albeit a bit more muted, in the front of the house.

Especially pleasant times were discussing any topic, typically, not earth shaking, with my buddy from our Air Force days, sitting on the porch in the evening and sipping a glass of 16 year old, single malt Scotch. Those were grand days. Dave and I speak of those days from time to time and how we miss them.

But, this is not the only beautiful place I've experienced, so, while it's nice to stop and reminisce once in a while, I look forward and onward to more awesome vistas.  

Photo-of-the-Week #219 Alone . . . in a Large Group, Barton, Maryland, July 2015

How many times have you found yourself in some kind of large group and yet, felt completely alone? I imagine just about everyone has been in this uncomfortable situation at least once and probably more than once. I usually don't post a Photo-of-the-Week the same day I took the photo, but this just seemed like a good theme. This is the situation I found myself in today.

I don't know if I can make the broad generalization that most families have regular (or semi-regular) family reunion (often picnic) gatherings. I'm sure I'm safe to say many families do this. When I was growing up, my own nuclear family had occasional gatherings of, primarily, family members, though they weren't actually organized and structured events. Perhaps, like many families, birthdays, anniversaries and specific holidays were the typical motivators for such gatherings. There are no more family gatherings (or informal reunions) in my family. There are too few of us left, we're scattered around the U.S., I don't know where most of them are and no one has kept in contact, to my knowledge, for more than 30 or 40 years.

My "outlaws" (formally my in-laws when I was married into the family) do have semi-regular family reunions and they are normally focused around the matriarch's birthday (the only surviving parent/grandparent/great grandparent). Even though the family (6 brothers and 2 sisters and a plethora of spouses, grandchildren and great grandchildren) is spread out over at least five states that I know of, they travel to some pre-determined location for these reunions. Of course, there are a few people who, like me, remain part of the clan even though I'm no longer married into it. Plus, there are the "strays," who have been adopted into the family, who also attend. I'm entirely at home in this large group gathering.

Today, I attended a family reunion where I literally felt all alone with people all around me. The group probably numbered about a hundred, though I didn't even attempt a head count. My friend's mother likes to attend because she is distantly related to this family and one or a couple people usually show up for her to visit with. Other than that, my friend and her adult son (who also attended), knew almost no one there.

My description of this event and my time attending has nothing to do with the people who organized it or attended. I don't judge people. I observed a group of regular Americans having a great time. I'm sure they are all nice people. The folks were all having a wonderful family time visiting and their conversations were lively. I just wasn't one of them. I was an intruder. So, here I was, a normally friendly, gregarious, outgoing, participating individual feeling like a wallflower, or maybe more accurately, feeling invisible.

There was, of course, a great feed (and somewhat organized feeding frenzy). I sat on the sidelines and waited out the lines until everyone else had filled their plates to overflowing. Frankly, I did my waiting in chow lines when I was in the Air Force and prefer not to stand in a line, as an invisible entity, awaiting my turn to fill my plate to overflowing. It's been my experience over a lifetime of attending such events to know there was going to be ample food remaining after the foraging hordes worked their way down the "potluck" tables. I was right.

So, this is the scene in the photo. It was at a park with a reasonably sized shelter in Barton, Maryland, a small, old, rural town in the western panhandle of the state. It was somewhat overcast as attested to by the photo. Fortunately, the humidity was at a reasonable percentage and the temperature at mid-afternoon was in a comfortable mid 80's range. The food was good, ample and fattening. Total time involved in the entire affair was about four hours. It certainly wasn't torture, but ultimately, at my age, four hours is four hours. I hope to avoid any similar events in the future.