Tag Archives: Food

DAY 189 – 03/17/2013 – LARPing in Trotwood, Ohio

Rolling through gray hills, we sought a campground. Parking overnight at Walmart has its charms. But, so few that we really prefer a nice campground in a park. Well, actually, our favorite thing is to park somewhere off the grid. Someplace where nobody else is and amenities are nonexistent. Where we see only woods and sky.

But, in a populated area just outside of Dayton, Ohio, an official campground is the way to go. We saw Sycamore State Park on the map and navigated our way over. We found the park alright but were having trouble locating the campground. Could it really be that small, grassy area with a spot-a-pot, right across a street from a row of houses?

Unconvinced and without signs for guidance, we drove deeper into the park, down an unmarked road. The skies overhead were roiling with sinister rain clouds, ready to drench us any minute. Where the heck was the campground?  But wait, we must be getting close to something, there are cars parked along the road up ahead.

A young man got out of his car and ran, as if he were late for something. Um… he’s wearing a cape and carrying a giant sword. Oh, where the heck are we?

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Around the next bend, we saw even more people with capes and swords. And horns. And clubs.

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OK, now we see. These folks are LARPers! Live Action Role Playing.

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We stopped to say hi. They looked scary but turned out to be very nice! They were happy to pose for some photos as they prepared for battle.

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They also knew where the campground was. That grassy lot with the spot-a-pot was it.

In summer, the lot would be pretty with leaves on the trees and warm breezes. In nicer weather, the locals hike and ride horses on the park trail system. But tonight, it’s cold and wet but a good-enough place for the Tramper to sleep for the night on the way back home to Baltimore.

Yep, we’re headed East. The Tramper Voyage will soon take it’s Baltimore hiatus. Oh, we’ll still be blogging. We have a number of summary posts in mind. A map of the Voyage, technical stuff from David, etc. And the Photo of the Week, of course, will continue.

Yes, we have lots of things to post. So, stayed tuned.

Meanwhile, we observe that homemade apple cobbler for dessert made the leafless Sycamore State Park park warm and cozy!

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– Jane

Even in a “Hurry” on the Road we TRY to see and DO things

If you pay attention in places like Skyline Drive, VA you’ll see America driving to see their country.  This morning here at Einstein Brothers we enjoyed Wifi and a rare store-prepared breakfast of lox.  Then we realized we could have used the drive-through.  That seems frequently the mode of vacationers too.  There are pull-offs at each viewpoint and overlook along that nice ridge in Virginia, many in Grand Canyon, Zion  and Arches.  We remember our earlier post comment that <1% of visitors go below the Rim at Grand Canyon.  Driving, eating, stopping, peeking, snapping a few pictures, we humbly do our share that way too.

Sometimes darkness looms, or a destination beckons.  Whatever our mindset, we  often feel driven to keep driving.  We do, however, try to experience a place in some way.  Remember, 1/2 mile from any parking lot it is nearly empty and you’ll find a peaceful solace.    With this in mind we left California to drive across the Mojave again.  Rarely retracing steps like this we saw few realistic options out here.  Mountain ranges and deep valleys line up travel mostly into North-South barriers.  Think Donner Pass etc.  To get around differently would require a 2-4 hundred mile trek North.

The Mojave delivered its usual dose of challenge for Marfa.  A 24 mile climb varying back and forth from moderate to steep.  With only a Pinyon bush each mile or two as shade, I pointed out the scarred asphalt on the shoulder from cars that burned…some looked scorched and completely melted with the telling white powder of a fire extinguisher or two.  The Transmission light ON AGAIN even with a new radiator!  (As of now, a week later, I have added Water-Wetter.  Physics to the rescue; it is a wetting agent that allows water/antifreeze to contact metals better.  Should be another 10-20%  difference and was easy to find in the desert at a Moab auto parts store.  Jeeps, 4X4’s, and off-road motorcyclists know about it too.  Marfa’s temperature gauge reflects this so far, fingers-crossed again as it stays cooler, “left of center” in all climbs so far).

Back to my original tangent, the road and travels continue.  Moab was calling us with a predicted three sunny days above 60 degrees.  Pressing today’s drive further than average we saw the little corner of Arizona offering a BLM campground.  I usually avoid driving into darkness, but with a camping destination it always seems easier.  Darkness, wind and the high baffling walls of a canyon arrived at the same time.  Hadn’t seen this one on the map really.  The Virgin River cut a canyon as deep, dark and surprising as could be, and man stuck this road down in there.  Maybe I was tired, but here was another white-knuckle downhill with the thought I’d have been parked safely by now.

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This view matches the educational plaque above

This view matches the educational plaque above

Healthy Joshua Tree blooming!

Healthy Joshua Tree blooming!

Awakening in a place darkness had concealed is another true joy of this sort of trip.  The Virgin River Canyon was another of those brightening experiences.  Fortified by sleep, pancakes with butter and real maple syrup we are coaxed out for a morning hike to the river. Water again. Real, running water.  Life giving water.  Jane and I sat enjoying the sparkling morning sun imagining what a sight this would have been to find for thirsty ancient travelers.  In every epoch, humans thirst.  Ancestral Puebloans, Spanish explorers, all thirst, especially in the arid high desert.

Morning comes, I step out.  where are we?

Morning comes, I step out. Where are we?

Where would we be without it?

Where would we be without it?

After leaving the little 27 mile corner of Arizona, we veered off of I-15 and chose to go through Zion and investigate several hikes.  One suggested by Mark back home was The Wave.  Unfortunately access is limited to 16-20 visitors per day and a four month lottery had already filled those slots.  We drove through Zion and it’s one mile tunnel through a solid rock wall and saw what strikes so many as one of the most beautiful places.  Canyons of striking red and sand colors are also verdant.  The difference appears to be water.  Big trees, streams and a wetter desert with delightful coniferous forests abound.  Our hike was kept short as we “wanted to get where we were going”.  Moab called, but we probably could have enjoyed a week in Zion.  “At least we left the road for a hike.”

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Hard to keep my eyes on the  road

Hard to keep my eyes on the road

Into that tunnel?

Into that tunnel?

More wild layers

More wild layers

Surprises on the road

Surprises on the road

Nice surprises on the road

Yummy surprises on the road

-David

DAY 120 – 01/12/2013 – Apres Ski Hot Dogs

Gabe leaned his head out the window and said, “Y’all are crazy!“.

Mark, the oldest.

Mark, the oldest.

David and I have heard this before. And we love it! Hearing that phrase means we’re doing something out of the ordinary. Not necessarily something truly insane, which might have terrible consequences, but something a bit daring. Maybe something cool that others might hesitate to try.

The day was absolutely frigid on the mountain. After just a couple of runs, you’d have to come inside to warm up.

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Asher, with his motor home in the background

But, you know, I was jones-ing for hot dogs cooked outside over a fire. It’s one of the joys of camping and we are, despite the weather and time of year, still camping.

So, when we arrived home at about 4pm, we decided to dig the snow out of our campsite fire pit so that dogs could be cooked. Digging got us nice and warm.

It also drew the attention of our wonderful neighbor, Gabe. He and his wife have 4 cute boys. Before Gabe pulled his head back inside the warm motor home, the boys were interested in cooking hot dogs on a fire, too. Has any boy ever not been interested in a campfire?

from left, Mark, me, Adin, Asher and Marci, their mom. Adin is still very little, so he got cold, cried, and went back inside before he cooked a dog.

from left, Mark, me, Adin, Asher and Marci, their mom. Adin is still very little, so he got cold, cried, and went back inside before he cooked a dog.

The two older boys suited up and brought over a couple of logs they had collected. Their mama must have taught them to never go to someone’s house empty-handed! That’s so dear.

The Livingston boys are really helping me out. I miss my small friends at home. Back home, there are Charlie, Julia, Katie and Jack across the street. Austin and Emma are a few doors away. I see my godson, Parker, a lot. My step-grandson, Zealen, lives a little farther away now but I see him as often as possible.

David with Mark & Asher

David with Mark & Asher

David calls me the ‘Baby Whisperer’ but, phppbt!, I just like to play. And kids are little, innocent miracles (especially when you can give them back).

So, anyhoo, we cooked some dogs on sticks over the fire. Yum!

– Jane

Jane is truly one of the very few adults I know who “GETS” kids.  She listens, prompts their input, and doesn’t seem ever to look over their heads and ignore them.  I HAVE NEVER SEEN HER ANSWER A PHONE OR TEXT IN A CHILD’S PRESENCE!  She is present to the moment she is choosing to share.  I never know quite what to say to little ones, I just wait to see what’s on their minds and hope I can add something they care about too.  I can’t help but be instructive; ask leading questions and hope to trigger them to solve their own little challenges.  I guess that’s whispering too…?

-David

DAY 39 – 10/23/2012 – Beached! In which the truck fails…

I just put a pan of Toll House bars in the oven. There’s laundry drying in the shower and the rice and beans leftovers are stowed away.

It’s day two in the Creekview Campground in Rosendale, NY. We’ll be here for a while. Maybe another week.

The 4Runner blew a head gasket on Sunday night. It sits idle on the campsite, waiting for attention.

It’s just another adventure on the Tramper Voyage, sort of “Little House on the Prairie” style! It’s ironic that right now I’m reading A Painted House by John Grisham. It’s not his usual tense legal drama but rather a story based on his own childhood in rural Arkansas in the ’50’s. There aren’t many modern amenities. Hard, hand labor is the order of the day.

While we do have Internet and cell phones we have no microwave, dishwasher or washing machine. The water reservoir must be filled daily. Hot water is produced only after we turn on the water heater, powered by propane which, in turn, also has to be refilled. So, compared with our former lifestyle, we are somewhat roughing it in a small trailer. And, it’s raining which keeps us inside.

But, it could be worse. A whole lot worse.

On Sunday evening, we were finishing a day of driving after a nice hike up Monument Mountain near Great Barrington, MA.

Here's the gully that I dropped David's camera into while on our Monument Mountain hike. The camera dropped, I screamed. It bounced, I screamed again. Bounce. Scream. Bounce. Scream. Then, splash! into a stream. I think it's dead... but it had a good 10 year run.

Here’s the gully that I dropped David’s camera into while on our Monument Mountain hike. The camera dropped, I screamed. It bounced, I screamed again. Bounce. Scream. Bounce. Scream. Then, splash! into a stream. I think it’s dead… but it had a good 10 year run.

We had arrived in the Shawangunks region of New York state and thinking about where to park the Tramper for the night.

There was a description of a nearby trailhead parking lot that sounded good (and free). But, the Shawangunk mountains are a playground for New York City and the trailhead lots were crowded with rock climbers on this beautiful October Sunday. Also, we encountered a tremendous traffic jam outside New Paltz. Everyone was headed toward the interstate back to the city.

Sunset in New York, with the car thunk-thunking.

Sunset in New York, with the car thunk-thunking.

So, we opted to head for a small campground instead. The truck, by this time, was starting to run very rough. The trailhead was on a mountain. The campground was in the valley. We chose the campground, just a few miles away. Good thing we did!

It was full dark when we pulled in. The truck was overheating but managed to pull us into a campsite. We met the manager (or maybe he’s the owner), paid for the night and settled in.

David soon determined that the truck had blown a head gasket. Oy! It will require a pretty big repair. David has spent the last two days on the phone and online, trying to figure this all out. I’ve been mostly reading and washing things. And baking those cookie bars which are now cooling in their pan. The Tramper smells delicious and is nice and warm.

The Creekside is a small independent operation. Maybe a dozen campsites. Hot showers, flush toilets (I know! Sorry! I try not to mention the ‘t’ word much but it’s a reality!) and electric and water hookup for the Tramper. OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERABill, the manager/owner said he stopped selling firewood a few years back. He didn’t want to deal with collecting the sales tax. He’s a bit of a curmudgeon but he adds local color and is giving us a nice weekly rate.

We landed in a pretty good spot! Imagine if we had opted for the trailhead. Life would be a lot less cushy right now.

My good friend Donna gave me this lamp years ago. It makes a nice glow at night.

My good friend Donna gave me this lamp years ago. It makes a nice glow at night.

There would probably be no cell phone or internet service on the mountain either, even with our hotspot. We’ve run into that situation many times on our trip. Lack of these services would have made it very difficult for David to get help with the 4Runner. Not impossible, just more difficult.

So now, we wait. And hang out in the trailer. It’s very cozy and comfortable in here. The renovations that David did are holding up very nicely! In some ways, it’s easier to live here. There are different chores but a lot fewer chores than at home. Life is simpler and sweet.

Yummy maple syrup we enjoyed on our pancakes this morning. Purchased from Matt, the nice shoe salesperson we met back in Maine

Yummy maple syrup we enjoyed on our pancakes this morning. Purchased from Matt, the nice shoe salesperson we met back in Maine

Tomorrow, AAA will come and tow the poor 4Runner to a shop in nearby New Paltz. David’s been talking with a guy in an auto shop there. David has a talent for establishing an instant rapport with people and the guy seems to want to help us out. Not a discounted-price kind of helping us out. But, he’s sympathetic and maybe won’t rip us off. Fingers crossed!

Now the bars are ready to eat…

– Jane

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI outlined nearly this exact scenario when we were “truck shopping”.  No amount of prep can eliminate all risk.  When buying the ’95 4Runner for 2 grand I stated, even if we blow the head gasket or transmission, we may just have to throw another thousand at it.  We’ll just meet some new people and settle in biking and waiting.  If you recall the “blacksmith’s hammer” of pre-ignition, it is pinging that likely killed the poor head gasket on the anvil of mountain climbs and sometimes highway paces.  Fortunately, Toyota has a revised MLS, Multi-Layer Steel gaskets that reportedly hold up better.  I wish the truck were nestled in my own garage where I would disassemble, measure and repair everything with the help of a local machine shop…but I won’t be dropping bolts on the ground here where the weather could change overnight and it’s raining right now.

I always believe our problems are only as big as our hysteria.  Sometimes, I almost think I like it when I have trouble.  No, I don’t really like problems, but have always enjoyed a methodical reaction.

In my teens I was on a school bus shuttling skiers to the Trailside Lodge in Vermont.  When it became stuck on ice, sliding slightly into a shallow ditch nearly everyone sat still worrying about being late for dinner.  Even though I knew I couldn’t budge the thing by pushing, I went out, walked around for a look.  I managed to direct a few willing strangers and a friend to lay branches under the wheels in the culvert, then safely orchestrated pushing and rocking from our team to free the bus.  Thought and caution are good reactions.

We will sort this out.  (At least it is not ruining a treasured one-week vacation) And, who better to be stuck with? ..than Jane

– David

Loose Ends, or – things we meant to post but somehow skipped…

1. ANDREW:

I’m not quite sure how but Andrew didn’t show in any of the pics from our visit to Stagge’s in and around Augusta. So, I’m correcting that with this photo. Andrew is one month older than my daughter and is beloved by everyone because he is smart, funny and kind. He is carving out a life for himself and his wife and baby on a rural family ‘compound’ in Farmingdale, Maine. We’re proud of him and I’m so glad to show him off here. BTW – the sleeping angel he’s holding is my grand-niece, Grace. She’s walking now and bumbling into things – as evidenced by the ow-ey on her forehead. She’s also starting to babble and ‘reads’ books to herself. SO cute!

2. FOX HILL

On a lonely logging highway in Maine called the Airline Road, we stopped for gas and postcards at a small cafe called Fox Hill General Store and Snack Bar. We spent a good deal of time here, blogging and sampling the excellent baked goods.

We chatted with the owner, Tina. She just opened the store very recently. A brave thing to do in such a wild place but she had customers coming in and out the entire time we were there. We bought some local potatoes and Mac apples, wished her well and were on our way.

3.  A LITTLE BAY OF FUNDY STORY

Probably in the 1970’s my grandmother and her sister, Aunt Margaret, took a sightseeing tour of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia. The trip included crossing the Bay of Fundy, a Canadian natural wonder with extreme tide changes. I was never sure whether the tide changed caused the rough seas or if there was a big storm but the ship was tossed and rocking. Aunt Margaret was in the loo, which was entered by a door on the main deck. My grandmother waited at the rail outside. Suddenly, the ship lurched violently, tilting precariously. The door to the bathroom flew open and out skittered Aunt Margaret, panties around her knees. I’m sure she hoofed it back in as fast as she could but not before entertaining the onlookers.

For the rest of her life, my grandmother could not tell this story without dissolving into laughter, taking the rest of us with her.

– Jane