WEEK TWO

May 30, 2003

Today would be just another day at the shop.

We were rushing around this morning getting everything ready for the road for even though we were just going for service, a move of two miles required all the preparation of one of two hundred. I pulled out about 11:15 and Onie headed for Wal-Mart. I stopped to empty our gray water and then went on to the Spartan factory.

Chris McCord, service manager, met me and we went over the service order and added a couple of things, service the transmission, 18 quarts, and fuel filter. That was in addition to an oil change; 19 quarts, oil filter, lube and fluids level check. After I was checked in Greg appeared and offered me a ride back to the rally grounds but I elected to stay and visit with others who were having service done. For two weeks before, during and two weeks after the rally Spartan schedules twenty service appointments a day for Spartan owners and still stays busy the rest of the travel season.

During my wait I heard about a silent heart attack, contracting, treating and living with lyme’s disease, prostate cancer treatments, a failed alternator, a nightmare delivery on a high dollar coach, raising Dobermans and Rotweillers, just the most affectionate dogs you can imagine, and had my questions relating to international security answered and all this by just one woman. Her husband was a highly intelligent man. He slept through her whole discourse.

As the clock neared five I checked on the progress being made on the Marlin. Onie had arrived and was concerned we would be late for the closing dinner, which began at five. When I went out to the shop I saw a drive shaft lying on the floor. I hoped it wasn’t ours. It was. I also heard the starter bumping on the Marlin. This is the process used to start the engine when all the fuel has been drained out of the water fuel separator or from the fuel filter. The time I did this it took and hour and half to get her started. While this was going on I asked about the drive shaft. It was too long and didn’t provide enough room for flex and movement. It had been replaced with a shorter shaft. There would be no charge to us. Perhaps this had been the source of an annoying thumping sound we have heard for the last year. No one else could locate the problem but now it had been solved, hopefully. I took over the job of bumping the starter, to fill the fuel filter, while the two techs completed other work under the coach. After fifteen minutes of me bumping the starter, with an occasional start tried, one of the guys said he was going to cheat and fill the fuel filter with diesel, not a recommended practice for the novice. With the full fuel filter back in place I began the bumping routine again. This was to pick up the fuel and get it to the engine. There is no grinding away on a diesel starter like you might do on a gas engine. The Cummins has so much compression that one of two things will happen, if not both, you will run down the batteries or burn up the starter. The maximum time allowed for trying to start is twenty seconds. After that a wait of at least thirty seconds must ensue. A few more bumps fed the fuel into the injectors and then a starting attempt caused the engine to come to life.

The only thing left before going to dinner was to reduce our bank account. We did that with an amiable young lady and then moved the coach to an overnight parking lot provided by Spartan. We had heard heavy rain was on its way and didn’t want to be parked on sod when it arrived. Parking spots at the rally are just grass.

We drove back to the rally and enjoyed the closing dinner. We saw a few friends and bade them goodbye. Some we would see again next year at this rally and a few we might bump into on the road or in Alaska. Our table mates from the Rose are heading for Alaska on June 13^th and plan to be on the Kenai at the same time we will be there so there is a good chance for seeing them there.

Back at the coach we decided to move to the Wal-Mart parking lot. We did, in a light rain. Since we were so close to Wal-Mart we took our evening walk in the shelter of its roof. After some aisle strolling we left and went back to the Marlin. It had been a long eventful day and we were ready for bed. As we lay in bed discussing the day’s events the patter of the rain increased to a steady drumming. It rocked us to sleep. In the night the cold came.

May 31, 2003

It is 6:24pm in southwestern Wisconsin at the Rustic Barn RV Park. Happy hour has started, for me, Onie is cleaning fruits and vegetables. We arrived here about an hour ago after four hundred plus miles, today. After leveling the coach and hooking up I managed to remove the bugs and dirt from the front and reapply 303 and clean the grill before sitting down with a libation and the laptop. Onie has just joined me. She is having Cajun Corn & Sesame snack mix and I’m enjoying salted peanuts, my favorite snack. The sun, behind veiled clouds is still two hours from the horizon. In the far distance treed rolling hills meet the sky. In the foreground are tailored fields filled with grain crops for the dairy farm that lies five hundred yards away, slightly to the north. While I was scrubbing bugs a teen herded about 60 Holsteins into the milking barn. Now they lie contently on the hill below the farmhouse and outbuildings.

This is a real difference from our starting point, Wal-Mart in Charlotte, Michigan.

I woke at 7:00am to rain that was still falling. It had lulled us to sleep last night at 9pm. The cold air that came with the Alberta Clipper had crept inside the Marlin so I fired the twin furnaces. At 58 degrees they roared to life. While my tea water was heating I ground some coffee beans for Onie’s breakfast drink. Later we had a breakfast of reheated venison sausage before leaving the parking lot for hiway 69, in a misting rain. Winds of 15 to 25 mph pushed us south toward Ft Wayne. When we got to IH 94 we turned westward toward IH80. Now the wind that had been behind us was a crosswind and for the next six hours it tried to push us off the road. We left Michigan and rolled through little of Indiana and then a lot of Illinois. Heavy clouds hid the sun until we neared the Mighty Mississippi and Iowa border. In Iowa we turned north for 70 or 80 miles before recrossing the river, absolutely gorgeous here, and wending our way to where we are now.

Onie has a dinner of one of her delicious salads, venison backstrap, artichokes and grilled onion waiting for us. If I say goodbye for now I’m sure you will understand.

June 1, 2003

The birds sang right outside our window as we dined on Onie’s whole-wheat biscuits, Patti’s figs and a pig’s bacon. I tapped away on the laptop while Onie got everything ready. Full and refreshed as only that breakfast can make one we loaded the car in preparation for our day of adventure.

Onie drove and I navigated. We left our home in Wisconsin and crossed back over the beautiful Mississippi into Iowa. We drove north from Dubuque, following the scenic river route until we came to Marquette. Along the way we stopped at a scenic overlook. A lady beekeeper was there offering samples of her bees work. The basswood was the best. We now possess a quart.

Two miles north of Marquette we stopped at Effigy Mounds National Park. Here we elected to take a little hike, three or fours miles, to walk off our lunch. The first quarter mile is a rather steep grade that lifts one several hundred feet to the top of bluffs on the west side of the Mississippi river. Here, long ago, early Americans buried their dead. Archeologists have said these folks were hunter gathers. Where they buried their dead in this area there are round domes, oblong domes and other shapes. The smart folks have tried to lend some special significance to the shapes but I remarked to Onie that if you keep burying people in the same place for hundreds of years after a while you will have a pile of dead folks. After all, old cemeteries have little humps all over in them. Try stacking those up for a few hundred years and see what a mound you get. At any rate the walk was pleasant through the woods on well-manicured cushioned trails. The view of the river from several different viewing sites was truly impressive.

Refreshed at the end of our hike, by a high priced ice tea, we set our sights on our next stop, Spook Cave.

Until you have seen a cave lying flat on your back in an aluminum semi-vee boat you can’t really appreciate what I am about to relate.

Spook Cave got its name from eerie sounds emanating from a small hole with water trickling out of it in the side of a hill. A fellow was curious so he stuck a few sticks of dynamite in the hole and made it bigger. Then he crawled in. The sounds came from water running over rock inside a cave. Well it wasn’t really a cave for the first many feet so he applied more dynamite and made a hole large enough to float a boat in, barely. He dammed the trickle of water until he had fourteen to thirty inches of water covering the cave floor. Then he bought these boats and waited for some tourists. The tourists lay in the boats while teenagers, too young to know better, work their way into the cave by pulling the boat along. They do this by grasping the ceiling which is three or four inches over the adventurers head and working their way to a spot where the passengers can sit up, briefly, before having to lay down again. If you tend to be the least bit claustrophobic you should definitely wait in the car. Onie quickly tired of this game and elected to just lie in the bottom of the boat. Not to be outdone by a mere teenager I jumped up and down each time our guide did. The cave is relatively new and very active with a great deal of water seeping through the limestone and sinkholes. There are a few stalagtites and a couple of stalagmites along with some flowstone and soda straw formations, nothing really outstanding as cave formations go but you can rest assured this is one cave we will remember for a long time. Of course I recently got stung by a bee, on my eyelid, and I will remember that for a long time, too. For a cave tour that only penetrates half a mile from the mouth this is a tour that gives new meaning to the word, “spooky”.

Back at the dock the guide asked us how we liked our tour. I told her both of them were great, the first and last one we will ever do like that.

That was enough of Iowa for the day so we crossed the river into Wisconsin and took the short scenic route home.

June 2, 2003

I opened up all the shades this morning while I was getting our morning coffee and tea ready. The light rain falling on the roof was too reminiscent of Spook Cave sounds and I wanted a lot of light around me just to be sure I wasn’t going to have to lie down on the floor at any minute to keep from hitting my head.

A cup of hot tea dispelled this notion and brought me back to reality. We discussed our day over breakfast. I was going off to look for a ladder that would fit neatly in the basement, a lens cap for the camera, a Wells Fargo Bank and a few grocery items. Onie would do our wash and work on the interior of the Marlin. Afterwards we would take a boat tour of the river.

Get ready, set, go. I dropped Onie and the wash at the laundry in the RV park and set off for Dubuque. I found a Lowe’s but not the right ladder. I found a Wal-Mart and got the groceries. I found a police officer and got an escort to a camera shop that didn’t have a lens cap for the camera. There was no Wells Fargo Bank in Dubuque. I fueled up the Subaru and headed back to the Rustic Barn RV Park.

Washing, ironing and folding were still in progress when I got back. Onie and I worked together to finish the job and get the clothes back to the coach and put away.

The rain was still falling but we decided to take our riverboat cruise anyway.

The brochure advertising the cruise had a good map on it so we worked in the coach until half an hour before sailing time, 4 pm. The drive would only take ten to fifteen minutes so thirty minutes would be plenty of time.

Onie forgot her hearing aids so we went back for them. We still had plenty of time. We got across the river and went to the place the map showed but there was no boat. We asked around. It was a few blocks away. We started there but the roads didn’t go there and we inadvertently got on a freeway that quickly took us away from the river. Not to worry, we can turn around and still get back as we have ten or twelve minutes left before sailing time. We got in the area again and stopped to ask a hard hatted workman. He gave us directions. We were two blocks away. We found the ticket office right where it couldn’t be on the map and we still had five minutes left. We bought our tickets and joined another couple that was waiting. At five after four the ticket lady came to us and told us the boat didn’t sail with fewer than ten passengers and Onie and I and the other couple were it, no other passengers. The tour was cancelled. We got a refund for our tickets.

The ticket office was at the doorway into Jo’s Casino. We figured this was just a ploy to get us inside so we decided to cooperate. Onie was mildly upset about the cruise but I was a little miffed. As a result she lost a few bucks in the casino but I was upset enough I managed to win enough hands of blackjack to pay for dinner and have enough left for a tank of diesel. That should teach them to cancel a cruise on me.

We each had half a rack of pork ribs for dinner along with a salad and baked potato.

Back in the coach we had strawberries, Iowa honey and half and half before turning out the lights.

June 3, 2003

This is the day that we have decided to move on. The rain is still falling so we hook up in the wet, get in the shorelines and head off for the Wisconsin Dells.

The Dells is the foremost geologic formation in the state and the town is one big amusement park. We plan to forego the amusement park but we will take a boat cruise on the Upper and Lower Dells.

Our nine thirty departure from the Rustic Barn RV Park should put us in The Dells early enough to take our river cruises today.

Western Wisconsin seems to have a lot more trees than eastern Iowa. The hills around the two lane roads run off into the distance and most have at least one good stand of timber on them. Some portions of the landscape are nothing but tree covered hills. A little of our route is freeway but most takes us through quaint towns on two lane roads that we share with farm tractors pulling implements and eighteen wheelers going about their business. Onie’s unerring navigation gets us to the Dells by around one thirty.

Our reservation at the Stand Rock RV Park appears to have been unnecessary. They have over 250 sites and we see two other campers besides our rig. We check in anyway and I thank the owner for holding our spot for us. He waves my thanks away and asks me to think nothing of it. That is exactly what I think but don’t voice it. We will have full connections for the next couple of days, which means we can scrub ourselves silly and wash our hair until it gleams. The Rustic Barn was water and electric only so showers lasted about two minutes. Now we can enjoy those twenty-minute soakings.

After a light lunch we went off to find another ticket office for this riverboat cruise. The navigator put us right at the front door. The Dells has a permanent population of about 2400. During the summer season that number swells to 50,000. To accommodate those numbers businesses have painted lines on the sidewalks; follow the yellow to the bathroom, blue to free parking, red to the boat dock, etc. Today there was no line and we just walked up and purchased our tickets to the Upper and Lower Dells cruise. The next boat on the lower Dells left in 35 minutes. We dashed off and washed the Subaru at a car wash and got back with time to spare.

We boarded the boat for the Lower Dells with about twenty other tourists and settled back to enjoy the warm sun as we cruised down the river. A young lady addressed the group as the boat headed downstream. We were on the Wisconsin River, the longest river in Wisconsin and the most dammed. It has 27 dams on it, 21 of which are hydro electric. What we were interested in seeing is the layers of sandstone that make up the wall of the riverbank. These are multicolored layers that rise to one hundred fifty feet in some places. The river water is colored with tannin here just as the falls in Michigan were. The guide goes on about the local fish varieties, Indian legends, trappers, loggers and local entrepreneurs. We hear some of it but some drifts by us in our semi-sleep state. Thirty minutes later the boat reaches the farthest reach of its run and turns around and heads back to the dock.

Back at the dock we disembark and walk up a ramp and board a bus that will take us to the boat for the Upper Dells tour. The two are separated by a dam so different boats are used.

On the second boat we hear a lot of the information but some is contradictory even though the guides work for the same company. This ride is longer and takes us past more spectacular formations than on the Lower Dells. We dock at a couple of different points and get up close and personal views of these unusual rocks. They occur in only a few places in the world, here, Potsdam, Germany where they get their name, Potsdam Sandstone and in Switzerland. At one stop we get some popcorn and Pepsi and enjoy them as we glide along the river.

The boat docks after six o’clock. It has been another long day and we are tired. We head for the coach. Once there we decide to try to check our e-mail and Onie can work on the website. All went well until her laptop died. The power ran out. She thought I had plugged it in and I thought she had plugged it in. We grinned at each other, kissed and went home for the night.

June 4, 2003

I slept a little late; say 9:30, since I had only gone to bed at 2:30am.

Onie had been awake a while and had a few cups of coffee while waiting for me. A cup or two of hot tea got me awake enough to eat breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon along with some radishes.

After that Onie and I decided we would have catch up day. She would work on her laptop to get things ready for our website and I would finish up a few days of stories. We could also take a long shower and wash our hair. While at the Rustic Barn we had no sewer hookup so showers were abbreviated. Today we could stay in half an hour if we want and we will probably want.

Six thirty found me still tapping away; I started at eleven, took no break for lunch, just snacked, broke at four for that half hour shower and came back to the keyboard. I hope to be finished by seven or seven thirty.

Onie got in her shower and got things posted on our website and then came back to the Marlin to reward herself a movie, Red Dragon, not my cup of tea.

When I get finished pecking we will have hot dogs and roasted corn on the cob.

It won’t be dark until about ten o’clock but I will probably be asleep before then. This pecking thing is tiresome.

June 5, 2003

Basswood honey tops off pancakes very well, thank you. The venison sausage was also very good and the hot tea and coffee finished everything off wonderfully.

We decided to stay another day and try again to find a ladder, a new sewer hose, do some shopping at Wal-Mart and do a little more laundry.

Home Depot didn’t have a ladder we liked but the salesman there thought he had just the one for us. We passed. While in the store we heard about an RV store with “everything for the Rver” near Madison, a short 45-minute drive. We made the drive and sure enough the store had everything for the Rver who didn’t need much. They did have a new sewer hose and some marker lights but ladders were a foreign word to them.

The first exit on the way back marked a cheese store, “The Mouse House”. We stopped to shop. Our sales lady was a teacher who was in high spirits, today was the last day of school. Her knowledge of cheeses was extensive even if she didn’t know how to pronounce some of them. We taste tested several and finally decided on five different kinds, a new cheese slicer and a bottle of champagne for Mimosas some morning when we have Eggs Benedict and strawberries, honey and half and half. All the cheeses were made locally. The owner threw in a summer sausage, free, worth over $9.00 since we were such good customers.

With these treasures in hand we headed to Wal-Mart and did our grocery shopping which included some steaks, a potato and mushrooms for supper.

Back at the RV we grilled the steaks and some garlic, added a salad and the mushrooms with onions and had a feast fit for Rvers. That would be us.

Later we went off to the local casino where we played for three hours. Onie was a $2.50 winner and I was a $10.00 loser when the evening was over.

Our nightcap was strawberries, basswood honey and half and half.

We tucked ourselves in at a quarter to one. We will have to sleep two rows at a time tonight as we plan to make better than three hundred miles tomorrow.

It’s hard to believe but this is the end of week number two. In a way it seems we just left home and hearth and in other ways it seems we have been on the road a long time.

Our Route for Week 2:

From Charlotte, MI – South on I 69 to Marshall, MI; West on I 94 to Chesterton, IN; West on I 80 to Davenport, IA; North on Hwy 61 to Dubuque, IA; North on Hwy 151 to Mt. Horeb, WI; North on Hwy 12 to Wisconsin Dells, WI