tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17382454027007887202024-03-19T01:03:58.077-07:00American Road TripTraveling full time in an RVHana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-12296737077303558432017-08-19T08:12:00.000-07:002017-08-19T08:12:03.352-07:00Back in Asheville - Updates!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are back in the beautiful Appalachian Mountains of Western North Carolina. We are drawn to this region for many reasons: the culture, the mountains, the hiking, good food, and most importantly, the climate. Rarely does it get overly hot or cold here. Which must be the reason why real estate this area is so expensive! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's hard to believe, but when we got to Asheville in March it was snowing out! </td></tr>
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Since arriving, we've been very busy. My (Hana's) family came to visit us in
May. We had fun doing Asheville touristy things, like visiting
Biltmore, exploring the River Arts District, and, of course, hiking. It was great seeing family after so long alone on the road! </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">River Arts District - Hana & Erin</td></tr>
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James and I have been exploring the area on our own, as well: <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Asheville Arboretum. Highly recommend!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tigerlily, and wild berries picked right off the Appalachian trail.<br />
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<span style="color: black;">A lot has happened in the last few months. For one, my job that I had
been working remotely for the last two years ended :`(. It's
understandable that they would want someone to work there in the office,
and I'm not ready to move back to Michigan now, or ever, probably, so I
need to find something new to do. It's daunting, terrifying, exciting,
and a bunch of other emotions all wrapped in one. Ultimately, I knew
going into this that I would need to find a new career, but I
hadn't quite gotten that far yet. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Luckily, James got a new job in town so we're not out on the street... yet! That leaves us with the problem of only having one car at the moment. </span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">Our goal in coming to Asheville this time around was to look for a place to stay permanently. We're done with our trip, and need to do SOMETHING else, anything else, as we look ahead to the future. While it would be awesome to keep traveling, it's just too expensive, especially if you don't have jobs that can be done easily online.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">As with all things in life, nothing is easy. We've had an extremely difficult time trying to find a place to buy. The real estate market is just as intense here as it was in Ann Arbor when we left (that being one of the reasons whey we left). We are still looking, but a little pessimistic about the whole thing.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;">I guess this is not a very exciting or uplifting update, but that's life. Life on the road is not always 24/7 excitement and adventure. Sometimes it sucks, just like regular, boring, live-in-a-house-work-in an-office life does (sometimes). We will continue to post updates. Here's hoping for a little luck and direction!</span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"> </span><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="950" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7kppILevHFTKeBqOXB_icduKl0HDsopCypnCOaWDdsGlR6I17huCWjDMj85saKMlgYEIGjriXhrs9osx_fysraKNbcT3Jw3CUhBSZbKH2Ah3L4ZjRwIIUeCZ5JSGbPyEFXomvL6vDU4/s640/Ontheriversm.jpg" width="640" /> </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The river that runs through our campground.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We took a day trip to Greenville, SC, which is actually a pretty nice city! They have a beautiful park that runs through the downtown area.</td></tr>
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Of course, James has been busy working on his guitars, and business is steady!:<br />
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<b>See more at our new Facebook page for <a href="https://www.facebook.com/CigarBoxGypsy/" target="_blank">Cigar Box Gypsy. </a></b></h2>
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Demo of a recent electric:<br />
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-18604752175520646422017-03-21T13:52:00.000-07:002017-03-21T14:27:04.259-07:00Georgia & Charleston<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXWqajC3mpV1WNVt2k0bd4gC5OSL6JNnYni61rUC3iRzRColNkbsY6Bx14uRAd6svM5Io0PY7d9bvmW94KJAQcNJSxaqQkXSWiDxvWNRHGZVHQhPSmgNMl6rXgNElRfyhlXPFNMOuFPE/s1600/hanaBike_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVXWqajC3mpV1WNVt2k0bd4gC5OSL6JNnYni61rUC3iRzRColNkbsY6Bx14uRAd6svM5Io0PY7d9bvmW94KJAQcNJSxaqQkXSWiDxvWNRHGZVHQhPSmgNMl6rXgNElRfyhlXPFNMOuFPE/s400/hanaBike_SM.jpg" width="400" /></a>This post is a little belated, but I thought I would post a few pics
from out voyage through Georgia and South Carolina on our way back to
Asheville. We stopped just outside of Savannah at a nice little
campground on a lake. It was a quiet few weeks there as we were too far
from Savannah to go into town often, but we had a nice, relaxing time. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzWJCrAhyphenhyphenJJXR3mPwEYc_AiD0hHxEcVuBNv5_Jb7gBZ3nUb3DPugl9kgGMzU3fu3fnEaCir5phrMX8dNwpTY3bWfiFp-d83H9R1d2h153AYmYUZvT2KZD8GCB_HU7UTZr2uQLbKk7JS4/s1600/hanaFountain_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHzWJCrAhyphenhyphenJJXR3mPwEYc_AiD0hHxEcVuBNv5_Jb7gBZ3nUb3DPugl9kgGMzU3fu3fnEaCir5phrMX8dNwpTY3bWfiFp-d83H9R1d2h153AYmYUZvT2KZD8GCB_HU7UTZr2uQLbKk7JS4/s400/hanaFountain_SM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Next stop was Charleston, South Carolina. Charleston is a great city, and I wish we could have spent more time there. The city itself is beautiful- parks, waterfront, and tons of old architecture. There were about a million good looking restaurants, which we only got the chance to try two, but both were very good which was a relief after <i>months</i> of bad restaurant experiences. I would LOVE to come back and visit here again!<br />
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<i><b>-Hana</b></i></div>
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Charleston ended up being a pleasant city to visit, and the old historic
feel reminded me a lot of Savannah. I would say that South
Carolina and Georgia feel like the same state in most areas. We stayed in an RV park & campground on the outskirts of town which we had high expectations for since it was in a
wooded area and a bit on the expensive side.
The reality was it was a busy area, but the large property was wooded.
Our site was right across from the laundry, which would go daily from
around 2 or three until midnight or so. The days were warm and I kept
the windows closed. If you know me, by now you are well aware of my
sensitivities. Our neighbors were mostly long-term, and seemed to think
particle board made good kindling for their nightly bonfires. While it
seemed dodgy we were left alone and nobody bothered us. I made friends
with some ducks who hung around a lot after I fed them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWF8NoN43vh6WWIKYzmrMaIW6zhcBGx5LG_5UznkGOO98sYxIkpAzqhvbFJyD304ELqG90a5QCGUldqEmhxAxVB3SBu9CS5PXM-W2fZxtn6t_yhb5pLq5ul2ReaG4iIC2k-nRSK9hqrB0/s1600/CharlestonScenes_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWF8NoN43vh6WWIKYzmrMaIW6zhcBGx5LG_5UznkGOO98sYxIkpAzqhvbFJyD304ELqG90a5QCGUldqEmhxAxVB3SBu9CS5PXM-W2fZxtn6t_yhb5pLq5ul2ReaG4iIC2k-nRSK9hqrB0/s640/CharlestonScenes_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjddzhq7cmXmDGkkwDdla0KOa0orxo9RcCkVpSsiyabouxwc1GrDTDoqp8qbtPpkZvrFwxZpEoOT4K5_7PfkSVkCK0y-8hLvmheBaDQuGNV-VbOVT9qj12-NSwyZAVEAFLoJQNEfEl1dfg/s1600/James_Frog_Sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjddzhq7cmXmDGkkwDdla0KOa0orxo9RcCkVpSsiyabouxwc1GrDTDoqp8qbtPpkZvrFwxZpEoOT4K5_7PfkSVkCK0y-8hLvmheBaDQuGNV-VbOVT9qj12-NSwyZAVEAFLoJQNEfEl1dfg/s400/James_Frog_Sm.jpg" width="331" /></a> Charleston
is a busy town with a a lot of traffic. As for
restaurants, there seemed to be no shortage of expensive places with
one word titles like "Toast" - a trend I am expecting to die any day now. There were a
multitude of cafes, all brandishing an original twist on their menu which utilized terms like "local", "farm fresh", "elevated", "a step above", etc.
which is all good, but so overemphasized by the hipster type crowd that
Hana and I can't help ourselves but make jokes. "Local" I learned years
ago is also a gimmick that is used the same way that the gluten free
label is used on everything from bottled water to yogurt. Coffee places
will advertise "locally ground and brewed" knowing that most consumers
are not going to give it much thought. For the most part these mid
range "local" places do offer a creative spin and are the healthier
choice as opposed to the many other msg-happy options out there where
everything is kept frozen. <br />
<br id="yiv3033363417yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1489938813157_8469" />
Hana and I went to
the museum at Fort Sumter where the first shots of the Civil War were fired. There is a lot of conflicting information out there on Abraham Lincoln.
Based on what I have read slavery wasn't the real cause for the civil war,
but a good cause to hide behind. There always has to be a "good cause" in order to get a lot of people to kill one another for the sake of
that cause. The reality is there is always more to it, and the sinister
intentions go beyond what is presented to the public to get them to accept all
this killing. Growing up as a kid we always heard about how great Honest
Abe was. Later on I read his writings in letters which were
insinuating that he wasn't. Overall I look at him like I do Kennedy, or
MLK, who tried to break away from all the corruption and do something
good, and was assassinated for it. I think the same goes for Lincoln. I
wasn't there,
but if he was assassinated he must have been trying to do something
right. Nonetheless, you can see how this city was built as a fortress
for war times, and can still find remnants of spiked gates and barricades all
over. Overall I would say Charleston is a city I would visit
again.<br />
<br />
I learned that the mosquito, or
gnat, is the "state bird" for South Carolina. I did leave (as I did last
year) with bites from gnats that lasted for weeks.<br />
<i><b>-James</b></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrowglZltC0Xe7i1NXR8J1dNqstYsLpAgW8h-3ZfIxGTlwg67QJC5XkRqvnErE53DDSly56l79wNRvcfnBYHyj1lkUi073I-yezyuzfQp8aLVBZkKffJ9vBs1rv-yXpc2w-yVnVj5j_M/s1600/CharlestonBridge_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdrowglZltC0Xe7i1NXR8J1dNqstYsLpAgW8h-3ZfIxGTlwg67QJC5XkRqvnErE53DDSly56l79wNRvcfnBYHyj1lkUi073I-yezyuzfQp8aLVBZkKffJ9vBs1rv-yXpc2w-yVnVj5j_M/s640/CharlestonBridge_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Awesome RV of the Week:</span></h2>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTzYPhS1GlHJm5BDiVwww8SF6SW-074XDrFI_lEExNww3vcibJjTzH0uzKVdDIbDGu7KSMK0DK_d4jdVetHlv_mT_HavCEuS8ENKXE-Lehc7ypxIN57tp_tYZ1FZOEmQkQtTMPp_-JRrI/s1600/GreenSchoolBus_Sm.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTzYPhS1GlHJm5BDiVwww8SF6SW-074XDrFI_lEExNww3vcibJjTzH0uzKVdDIbDGu7KSMK0DK_d4jdVetHlv_mT_HavCEuS8ENKXE-Lehc7ypxIN57tp_tYZ1FZOEmQkQtTMPp_-JRrI/s640/GreenSchoolBus_Sm.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-60203644816837977382017-02-12T13:46:00.003-08:002017-02-12T13:46:35.594-08:00Winter in Central Florida (year 2)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFMLIg3Vs1qkM77_qRK9Skiev-n7tI1vOPayXrOdV0IGvx77MhBU3Fv5lzCnDUedUuiHwWcU4tf1HTwfGIRleXSm8v87P2XklegmAt5p_kKKA7g-3ZOxGuZszw2tLuQDr6DxIs6ZoZqI/s1600/poolMich_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFMLIg3Vs1qkM77_qRK9Skiev-n7tI1vOPayXrOdV0IGvx77MhBU3Fv5lzCnDUedUuiHwWcU4tf1HTwfGIRleXSm8v87P2XklegmAt5p_kKKA7g-3ZOxGuZszw2tLuQDr6DxIs6ZoZqI/s640/poolMich_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of our RV park pool vs the view from a certain house in Bellaire, MI :)</td></tr>
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Well folks it has been 2 months in Florida and I find myself asking where did the time go? I hear thats the way it gets as you get older. I kept myself a lot busier than I thought making guitars which went out the door as fast as I made them. I worked up until dusk every day, visited with Hana a couple hours, spent a couple hours with dad, and at night soaked in the hot tub and went for a swim. After swimming every night I was able to 13 of the extra pounds I gained the past year, which I am afraid will come back. I also found after those daily soaks in chlorine that I had considerably less hair on my arms and legs. I was at first wondering why the drains were clogged by clumps of short fine hair.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNCIVRh8Z13vhfhkbpUyyo9onLRX5Z3enJMFl4gr8pAWccepLzi0uIhcDw4nDGZsAugIFnvr0bipSjpJDHpyp85oJxMz8Grsblm7tB4bamU7IhB3MAnr-hPH0DbaD1OnZzfHpkqS2Krc/s1600/JamesFam_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPNCIVRh8Z13vhfhkbpUyyo9onLRX5Z3enJMFl4gr8pAWccepLzi0uIhcDw4nDGZsAugIFnvr0bipSjpJDHpyp85oJxMz8Grsblm7tB4bamU7IhB3MAnr-hPH0DbaD1OnZzfHpkqS2Krc/s640/JamesFam_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I made guitars for dad and Rosann, and was happy to see that they became more than folk art on the wall. Dad picked up playing a lot faster than I expected and both of them have been enjoying their gits. One thing I have to say about these guitars is that they are perfect for anyone who wants to play, but doesn't want to spend hours a day learning how to play a standard six string. The strings are spaced farther apart on the three string, and since they are tuned to an open g chord all one has to do is hold a finger across any fret to form other chords. There are many other chord formations, but to put it briefly you can learn some basics and get the feeling for it in an hour or so if you have never played any instrument. Pretty much anyone willing to dedicate a little time can learn to play one without spending all the hours you would getting used to a six string.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEEUHKyPG-sO3ykfRL1EAS3HMPK4M5R_mskMY7RtvYvkxDkk-JkBgUdUNPcA8byy8HjoB34M3FFJa9dT1V87L_HptrCCcs8N0pYnXR_DUCSQXznuouzcC4pDH5nvjHrpA8bgWh-pmPe4/s1600/FrankieMtDora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDEEUHKyPG-sO3ykfRL1EAS3HMPK4M5R_mskMY7RtvYvkxDkk-JkBgUdUNPcA8byy8HjoB34M3FFJa9dT1V87L_HptrCCcs8N0pYnXR_DUCSQXznuouzcC4pDH5nvjHrpA8bgWh-pmPe4/s400/FrankieMtDora.jpg" width="337" /></a> We took a 25 mile trip a few times to the flea market in Mount Dora, which is a charming little town with a nice park on the water. Flea markets are a pretty big deal in Florida, and a great way to spend the afternoon and get a deal on farm fresh eggs.<br />
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After falling in love with an acoustic guitar in Savannah I was able to get it in florida. I know I am not Willie, but I still want to name the git as my affection for the dark, mahogany bodied guitar with and open pore finish has my affection. Out of all the guitars I played in my life, this one feels perfect for me and sounds great. It is slightly smaller than my last one with a dreadnaught body. To me it is a blues fingerpicker's dream come true. I am getting deeper into learning ragtime and peidmont style blues, and this git has made it so I can improve at a much faster pace. Also by making these folk guitars I feel like I am finding my nitch in old american folk culture and music. So while my name isn't Willie, and the git isn't 50 years old with a hole in it (named Trigger), I am leaning to calling this git that I love more than a steel resonator Dobro I owned years ago, Frankie. I didn't go towards a female name because I have enough estrogen in my life as it is with two girls in a 31 ft rv.<br />
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I am not going to go too deep into the negative, but I did find myself interrogated by a small party of drunk, golden age vigilantes wanting to know who I was. They surrounded me on two golf carts when I was walking to dads at 7 pm. I was cooperative, but when they decided to trail 20 ft behind me I started to get aggravated, and invited them to ride up next to me. It was then I was accused of having a backpack full of drugs. When I started to question who they are and what they had in the golf carts they sped off. Dad wanted to see who this group was, so he rode me on the golf cart to their little drinking party. They again voiced their fear of what was in my backpack, and dad asked if they would be less scared if I carried a purse. There was one clown with a big mouth who had stood up and pretended to want to fight, claiming he had "been to the rodeo a few times." He was about as threatening as humpty dumpty, and all it took was a 70 year old woman to put her hand on his stomach to hold him back. There were a few more cases I ran into this type of interrogation, but at the end of the day laughed it off. There are a lot worse threats out there in the world than a few cranky old folks.<br />
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Since the grocery shopping in our area wasn't all that great for some reason (and expensive), I was happy to find the folks at Bountiful Farms, a family run farm and market just down a mile from our park. There I was able to buy organic cabbage, along with other vegetables and beef that they had available in their charming, rustic market. If you are stopped in Leesburg I would recommend dropping in. Not only do they have a great selection of quality produce without the chemicals or engineering, but you will be supporting a wonderful, hardworking family. Sisters Ginny and Jessica are always running the market. They are knowledgable about natural remedies, and will be happy to help you out in any way they can. They are also very cheerful and warm, which makes you happy to support their business and enjoy shopping there. I had the pleasure meeting Garette, Jessica's husband, as he was purchasing one of my gits after Ginny had commissioned me to make one for her boyfriend Micheal. By the end of the stay I got to be friends with the family, and often pray that their crops will be profitable for them. If you do stop in be sure to send them my love.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TRpRwpczS77o5KifSWIm0IIh2ETOkB7gNEW7qoNZUjv7W7rNkq8NSGvlJvRJxbt_1jlUiyVsmrR9H4HvUaSggwP1RCGP9Qogf-SDZN7QqUm-Nx0-pwxs8AIMegFPrFn9ant43szUS6g/s1600/GuitarsMockup_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TRpRwpczS77o5KifSWIm0IIh2ETOkB7gNEW7qoNZUjv7W7rNkq8NSGvlJvRJxbt_1jlUiyVsmrR9H4HvUaSggwP1RCGP9Qogf-SDZN7QqUm-Nx0-pwxs8AIMegFPrFn9ant43szUS6g/s1600/GuitarsMockup_SM.jpg" /></a></div>
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This year we were happy to find that a gopher turtle moved from the lot across the street from ours. We were honored to have him. he spent most of his time in a large tunnel that he dug. Wayne, our neighbor from Canada, would be over every morning leaving food for the turtle. I am pretty sure he grocery shopped for the turtle specifically, buying him spinach and watermelon. We were also happy to have Wayne next to us again this year.<br />
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The bird watching is also great if you go out on a boat into the rivers and canals. Wayne invited us out one afternoon where we got to see many pretty birds that I don't remember the names of.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NR2Yalmdr5rQSyRAy8_4gDTM8gxPbaD4TeQJ3nQBLFAyKuFfwyiwX_tfq7K2ehOjLX2M4qeHGJuYA3Vw2gaReEsjEzoDXI1weqzn9qdH0ZLzpb9Gf83wgn-QKNdbDqvJLup-1h6_LdQ/s1600/JamesBoat_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-NR2Yalmdr5rQSyRAy8_4gDTM8gxPbaD4TeQJ3nQBLFAyKuFfwyiwX_tfq7K2ehOjLX2M4qeHGJuYA3Vw2gaReEsjEzoDXI1weqzn9qdH0ZLzpb9Gf83wgn-QKNdbDqvJLup-1h6_LdQ/s640/JamesBoat_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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It is once again sad to leave after a visit with family. 62 days felt like a sneeze in the park. I am glad I was busy and made some work for myself, but as life often goes I find myself wishing I would have done some things a little different. It is easy to get focused on something and have the time slip by without you knowing it. That is what happens in life, and while we often try to write the script before-hand, things just turn out differently.<br />
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I didn't fish much, forgetting that my license from last year was still good. When I finally got the time to fish during our final week I realized the license had expired a few days before.<br />
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Dad and I took more golf cart rides in the afternoon at first, but not the last month or so as I had tried to get the most out of the daylight hours building guitars. It was a boost for my self esteem to get busy with some work, especially on my own rather than working for someone else. I guess that is how life goes. It passes before us quicker than we think. I am wishing now that I could just walk over to Dad's but there are hours between us. I was glad to see him and Rosann enjoying their guitars, and it was great to be able to worship with them while we held our own sabbath services friday evenings and saturday afternoons. I would go to visit them every night,and it was heartwarming to see their 1 year old snauzer, Ziggy, watching for me at the front door. I am sure going to miss that beautiful boy. Dad, Rosann and I also had a great time making music on our guitars. It was great for me to see them enjoying themselves while learning to make music. I also let them borrow my amplifier, which they really seemed to get a bang out of.<br />
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So with a few tears and hole in my heart I can hear Willie singin "On the Road Again" as we push forward into our search and adventure. Such is life as we move forward and our experiences are never what we expect, sometimes giving, sometimes taking, but in the end all part of the plan.<br />
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<b><i>-James</i></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVO-7JRjiAvVn66RmvEr01h_iOQH-HFKs6-IA8MCngsQP32DGtObEMiKDBXFnpAv1FBxOcflRpFy4-VVZCUXjrTN3ov5QtnESTIg8bO5oTT0CRSQlcKGbaTASJSqpGw-Y25_EnIQbnbnw/s1600/SideTable_Mock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="601" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVO-7JRjiAvVn66RmvEr01h_iOQH-HFKs6-IA8MCngsQP32DGtObEMiKDBXFnpAv1FBxOcflRpFy4-VVZCUXjrTN3ov5QtnESTIg8bO5oTT0CRSQlcKGbaTASJSqpGw-Y25_EnIQbnbnw/s640/SideTable_Mock.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little RV project done by Hana</td></tr>
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We'll leave you with this bird we caught trying to break into a car.. orrr trying to fight it's own reflection:<br />
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<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-90196597265781335492016-12-11T07:01:00.002-08:002016-12-11T07:01:44.581-08:00Tybee Island, Georgia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This month brought us to hurricane ravaged Tybee Island, Georgia. Our RV park was just getting cleaned up and reopened after the storm, but was packed to the brim anyway. The sides of the roads were piled high with debris and it seemed like every house in town had roof replacement underway. The main pier was closed, unfortunately, as well as a few of the beach access boardwalks. Coincidently, it seemed like every other house was for sale. Bad timing!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJIrOp1wsYcIvKpbvFXgEGq8wg0dUoh3blXZE8fCSeBA7jHad6cwdAErjZ9qFwWdKTdMAEtUdsPD8vNTyeCmiCWzyhqT3inRQLPLZdQoaXvHvOBUfTcHURDmcA9F8AHazz1oOMvAC1wA/s1600/lighthouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJIrOp1wsYcIvKpbvFXgEGq8wg0dUoh3blXZE8fCSeBA7jHad6cwdAErjZ9qFwWdKTdMAEtUdsPD8vNTyeCmiCWzyhqT3inRQLPLZdQoaXvHvOBUfTcHURDmcA9F8AHazz1oOMvAC1wA/s640/lighthouse.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The park, Rivers End, was nice but crowded. James was able to take full advantage of the workout room, something that is not offered at most other RV parks. The pool was closed, however, which is to be expected. Most parks advertise a pool, but they are almost NEVER in working order. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzTxbCTfahcS1YXBjPxdJGGwyZ-cpLCU6c8J6KQxHTMeXERIKwSNGpTRqyDsILikphx7_H0OsB0plJGU3Y6t-8q9mFOd-ZAQtECp9VxR6KnhyphenhyphenVe4GVipthSWqRvgC5qSjDCKNeuoIFqs/s1600/FrankieCat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="326" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGzTxbCTfahcS1YXBjPxdJGGwyZ-cpLCU6c8J6KQxHTMeXERIKwSNGpTRqyDsILikphx7_H0OsB0plJGU3Y6t-8q9mFOd-ZAQtECp9VxR6KnhyphenhyphenVe4GVipthSWqRvgC5qSjDCKNeuoIFqs/s400/FrankieCat.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making friends with one of the <i>many</i> feral cats on the island.</td></tr>
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Despite the fact that Tybee is only about a 20 minute drive from downtown Savannah, it feels well removed from all the hustle and bustle of the city. There are no fast food chains here, and it is legal to drive your golf cart on the street. The town is very walkable. We were able to go everywhere from our RV site (the main drag, the beach, the park downtown), which was nice since since parking is very limited here.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fort Pulaski (yes, they let dogs tour the facilities!)</td></tr>
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James tried his hand at ocean fishing this month, but didn't have a whole lot of luck with the pier being closed. He almost got a giant crab, but of course they let go of the line before being brought in!<br />
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Now we are headed to Florida, and after a few days of 50 degree weather I'm ready for the heat again! We may have a new project coming up next month, so stay tuned!<br />
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<i><b>-Hana</b></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJEW9IM1Wq7sGuppRs4dzNztHQ0vMeAxnCnj0PS6Nh5ln6EmrwoKEGY-bESiBTn93Sabidh-fhf5G18C9RicqpZbTcWBVa79HJ9l1673cp0pgs0IXaR6n9e_PF8R3qHA71zDc2K_3-dM/s1600/beach_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpJEW9IM1Wq7sGuppRs4dzNztHQ0vMeAxnCnj0PS6Nh5ln6EmrwoKEGY-bESiBTn93Sabidh-fhf5G18C9RicqpZbTcWBVa79HJ9l1673cp0pgs0IXaR6n9e_PF8R3qHA71zDc2K_3-dM/s640/beach_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-3464052362236218392016-11-13T06:35:00.000-08:002016-12-06T04:36:42.178-08:00North Carolina - One Year On The Road!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt40jjLHugnHPJZdAVR6LZqLaIYdVRJ2KkIRrleOTQDepT3l6JPXI4GUxZpVT3RIGj72fbdFykrrSvnWUr7Ea6V0EzmzDAjGF_Q7_7sJu-O9a_qGEg_eKD7UMfb1AKk2yG5zqTQfnEmo/s1600/USMap_NC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtt40jjLHugnHPJZdAVR6LZqLaIYdVRJ2KkIRrleOTQDepT3l6JPXI4GUxZpVT3RIGj72fbdFykrrSvnWUr7Ea6V0EzmzDAjGF_Q7_7sJu-O9a_qGEg_eKD7UMfb1AKk2yG5zqTQfnEmo/s1600/USMap_NC.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Asheville, North Carolina</td></tr>
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Well folks, it has been one interesting year. The time has flown by, yet it feels like we have always been living this way. Some places my heart longs to be, while others I hope I never see again. Some places were unexpectedly great, while others that are supposed to be great are just too crowded. Sometimes it felt tiring to pack everything up and go all the time, while other times it felt good to step on the gas and go. Kansas and Missouri; thanks for the dance, hope I never see you again. Texas; I am going to eat a 72 ounce steak the next time I cross your border. </div>
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This past year I was also blessed with the opportunity to learn a couple skills. I taught myself how to fingerpick on the guitar, now I never want to touch a pick again. I also learned to build guitars. I think I may be somewhat of a better fisherman. I caught my share of trout in Arkansas, and was able to keep the freezer full. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3Bb31WDVJl_o6vr6ruYS9Mdf8uxbRaebKRolA379_mUDwOkXAF1iUvys-2UI2Ut0HztjgxrcBrnT2huSROc_V0PEKaMmtQQr8yVBXwqP_xqGwY-7ldCUDEGcMQTr5bHY9ODAZfVauiE/s1600/IMG_0443SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif3Bb31WDVJl_o6vr6ruYS9Mdf8uxbRaebKRolA379_mUDwOkXAF1iUvys-2UI2Ut0HztjgxrcBrnT2huSROc_V0PEKaMmtQQr8yVBXwqP_xqGwY-7ldCUDEGcMQTr5bHY9ODAZfVauiE/s640/IMG_0443SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLupParsgPO8CjthzGTMgC9gNuam_Ed9sby8MgsY7oHcF9MTwokWg4Kyb1JSY3WB9jJf1O492XX7I_GkMTwcw64_aMCFTf2snbTpgNmwOaXqXBVbe2FqylyuR-k_0Wk6569DLgFKgVos/s1600/IMG_0444SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqLupParsgPO8CjthzGTMgC9gNuam_Ed9sby8MgsY7oHcF9MTwokWg4Kyb1JSY3WB9jJf1O492XX7I_GkMTwcw64_aMCFTf2snbTpgNmwOaXqXBVbe2FqylyuR-k_0Wk6569DLgFKgVos/s400/IMG_0444SM.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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If you have been following the blog you will know by now I hate cities, crowds, or just about any crowded town. I <i>do</i> like being able to get good groceries and bulk herbs, but I just don't like being around a lot of people. Asheville felt a lot like Ann Arbor to me, but we stayed about 20 miles out of the town in the mountains. We had a nice winding drive up and down the mountain to get to where we camped. Hana hated the drive, while I didn't mind. The payoff for me is seclusion. Can't get enough of it. I didn't fish or build a guitar a single day this month since I had the opportunity to hike through some nice trails as the leaves changed color. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2tXplEGaOHpEBU71Of3bISbgs7K5UCTUI6ywe0a8H9Exr7K0MX7fNsCAlf4EGKKcrzXGkm4h1RIJmcpnpycu-ZFyFh3_uqiyCtVwzVC9mnmA0AfGc85F_-CR5JW9Fhq90qsSIhVjCgw/s1600/IMG_0450SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk2tXplEGaOHpEBU71Of3bISbgs7K5UCTUI6ywe0a8H9Exr7K0MX7fNsCAlf4EGKKcrzXGkm4h1RIJmcpnpycu-ZFyFh3_uqiyCtVwzVC9mnmA0AfGc85F_-CR5JW9Fhq90qsSIhVjCgw/s400/IMG_0450SM.jpg" width="237" /></a> I am really going to miss these hills in Appalachia, and hope to return. I learned a couple traditional songs of the area which I hope to play and sing for you, and wrote one of my own inspired by the area. I am also going to miss the farm store where I could get all hormone free grass fed protein. I stocked up the freezer on liver since it was priced so well and hard to find elsewhere minus the chemicals. Liver is really high in b vitamins, and is pretty much considered a superfood. I also got some yummy blueberry maple sausages which I am going to miss. They just take your senses to a place called home when they sizzle and the maple scent fills the air. </div>
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We may be returning to this area. I hope so. It was my second to favorite to Taos, New Mexico. There is also a bit of a drought here and all the streams are dried up in the hills, but while they don't match the beauty of the snowy trails I walked in Taos, I did not have to look out for any wildcats. I am really going to miss the hills, but look forward to seeing my Dad, Rosanne, and their new puppy Ziggy in a month. </div>
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All in all it has been a good year. I have to give thanks to God for the experience, the multitude of fish I caught, as well as the protection when Frankie and I faced a wildcat in Taos, or when a footlong stone fell off a truck and bounced off the windshield right in front of my face. I have eaten a lot of good food, and it shows. I have seen some beautiful places, and have made some friends along the way, some of which I still think about from time to time, hoping they are doing well. </div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8gU4cYGvbnTJW2MGQYYykFmKStgrromeiUiHxQvHz6taOmTUKLYYEqsfprVlrv9zFGrzzwiWkokfDsz98RTNzx50nS6tNaZ0jBNIyO-h2-JVBUURJjhIiK0Syuh2xFGezJxtPfI4stE/s1600/IMG_0459SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8gU4cYGvbnTJW2MGQYYykFmKStgrromeiUiHxQvHz6taOmTUKLYYEqsfprVlrv9zFGrzzwiWkokfDsz98RTNzx50nS6tNaZ0jBNIyO-h2-JVBUURJjhIiK0Syuh2xFGezJxtPfI4stE/s640/IMG_0459SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHauLZUUECAKIFRrWLLaHK0fvogRnk5iB-5Z1oYMpXfCPglWHPCaMAAHohEtBvHvrQqkQpF9RfG82JE_lupW9KqmUid5LBq0BulY6M8BSYQ6jJZ93hT6G3TKywGRf69p_d7uTwn_GQV2I/s1600/IMG_0451SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHauLZUUECAKIFRrWLLaHK0fvogRnk5iB-5Z1oYMpXfCPglWHPCaMAAHohEtBvHvrQqkQpF9RfG82JE_lupW9KqmUid5LBq0BulY6M8BSYQ6jJZ93hT6G3TKywGRf69p_d7uTwn_GQV2I/s640/IMG_0451SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Ridge Mountain views</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDesx45U2b4IYwLEbW6ny7p6rKnCNOXXoWQhx1AF2TSZZu7WK8CUXA5AyadV58sVmnZQvbzLCwzBs13MjuTPa6ef1hoVN1wX7txErD2T0R1kjl_qLhXF4gKlszQ9OAzk3mpdEmy7cx6eo/s1600/IMG_0445SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDesx45U2b4IYwLEbW6ny7p6rKnCNOXXoWQhx1AF2TSZZu7WK8CUXA5AyadV58sVmnZQvbzLCwzBs13MjuTPa6ef1hoVN1wX7txErD2T0R1kjl_qLhXF4gKlszQ9OAzk3mpdEmy7cx6eo/s640/IMG_0445SM.jpg" width="241" /></a>It's been just over 1 year on the road now. We've had ups and downs. There have been times I wondered what we were doing, and times that I wished the trip would never end. Part of me wants to keep traveling forever, and part of me wants to settle down.<br />
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We've been to a lot of beautiful places in this country; mountains, coastlines, canyons, and forests.. Every place is different but the same too, and nowhere is perfect. A perfect place is something you make. That or you'll spend your whole life looking for the next best thing. As a person who gets bored easily and never quite feels fulfilled, I don't know if I'll ever truly be satisfied or have the feeling that I've found what I'm looking for. Maybe I like the adventure, the not knowing what's next. </div>
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Smoke fills the sky, and ash falls down like snow flakes as we prepare to leave Asheville this chilly fall morning. Yet again, we leave on the heels of a raging forest fire just a few miles away as we did in Idaho. That's one thing I've never experienced in Michigan..<br />
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Next we are heading to Savannah to stay on the coast for a month, and then on to Florida. I definitely can't complain about skipping winter 2 years in a row ;). In fact, I've become dangerously used to having pleasant weather all year-round.<br />
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<b>Thanks</b> to everyone who supported our trip and followed the blog during the course of the year. We'll try to continue posting if we have something worth posting. As to what our future holds, your guess is as good as mine :).<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1en3_e5Hy_z1IRIng89TnBOnsSEiUb591uzryA7PQiRaMJ87iCB_4ewwPo6SHHE0SuDYdi-CpACxiA6LYrJXj4May9yG0x6xUIH0QHMs_7npNGKKKmtq_mm5Y_qF9M_xULpP8r1OdJJA/s1600/IMG_0454SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1en3_e5Hy_z1IRIng89TnBOnsSEiUb591uzryA7PQiRaMJ87iCB_4ewwPo6SHHE0SuDYdi-CpACxiA6LYrJXj4May9yG0x6xUIH0QHMs_7npNGKKKmtq_mm5Y_qF9M_xULpP8r1OdJJA/s320/IMG_0454SM.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b></div>
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<span style="color: orange; font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-large;">BEST OF our travels, <i>2016</i></span></h2>
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<i>We in no way set out to find the best of anything, but here's what we discovered along the way:</i></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best Restaurants:</span></b></div>
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Cotton: West Monroe, Louisiana</div>
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Monell's: Nashville, Tennessee</div>
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Char Bar: Kansas City, Missouri</div>
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Biscuit Head: Asheville, North Carolina<br />
Miguel's: Slade, Kentucky</div>
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The Big Texan: Amarillo, Texas</div>
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Orlando's: Taos, New Mexico</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best Pastries</span></b></div>
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Frank's Bakery: Amarillo Texas<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best Burger <i>(this one was all James)</i></span></b></div>
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James Ranch: Durango, Colorado</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best RV Park:</span></b></div>
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Tom Sawyer: Memphis, Tennessee </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best State/National campground:</span></b></div>
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Crab Orchard Campground, Illinois</div>
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Pokagon State Park, Indiana </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best State/National park:</span></b></div>
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Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona</div>
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Wichita Mountains Refuge Center, Oklahoma</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Best Fishing:</span></b><br />
Hot springs, Arkansas<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Worst City:</span></b><br />
Wichita, Kansas<br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Best Overall City:</b> </span></div>
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Taos, New Mexico</div>
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Asheville, North Carolina</div>
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Savannah, Georgia</div>
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Lastly, the two things you'll find in EVERY state/city in this country without question? <b>Cows and Walmart.</b><br />
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-77332262328189995362016-10-09T07:04:00.001-07:002016-10-09T07:04:46.072-07:00Illinois<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyB54WPuLQTY_Urqv_yIhiN3VdrBeZqaDStGmFQxfQ7GVGomro58TUyUnA-kxMOk2xdPdFgv5e9eIQabPsrE1Dprrwm5i8gqvvPZxeSYAzSpgmHYXCdiqxyHMDzBIhNDRrCWzZf9kh-M/s1600/USMap_IL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnyB54WPuLQTY_Urqv_yIhiN3VdrBeZqaDStGmFQxfQ7GVGomro58TUyUnA-kxMOk2xdPdFgv5e9eIQabPsrE1Dprrwm5i8gqvvPZxeSYAzSpgmHYXCdiqxyHMDzBIhNDRrCWzZf9kh-M/s1600/USMap_IL.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Shawnee National Forest, Illinois</td></tr>
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Last week was my birthday (<b>big 3-0</b>) and James decorated the whole RV with streamers, pom poms, and balloons. He also got me a delicious carrot cake, yum! It was a simple but very nice birthday in the woods.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMVC2FXLw1A6urQFtMrf5UqfHo6v9D22RPVt4nUNUBLf2vciylh5rlY14eAzNrFYRjoJVUUhv3vwwUBqNh4j44G1TxLocOY49Y2nsWS3U5hCJDM4isCX-_1jBnUAMvZRMijlANQR2UcM4/s1600/Birthdaycomp.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMVC2FXLw1A6urQFtMrf5UqfHo6v9D22RPVt4nUNUBLf2vciylh5rlY14eAzNrFYRjoJVUUhv3vwwUBqNh4j44G1TxLocOY49Y2nsWS3U5hCJDM4isCX-_1jBnUAMvZRMijlANQR2UcM4/s640/Birthdaycomp.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFEo1btwsL-Tbkg8uE2dKJD3XgGs6I1uZsPvkPC8Kaz-z9D1hZ1lo4B1Y0zYDGmfRqmILES7gi0MQLymA5gPjl9TmYUwu8TW37TODfJe37X4PFdVqos8T1Qjzy70d9Z7KqTFZz0rCfBQ/s1600/FrankieComp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicFEo1btwsL-Tbkg8uE2dKJD3XgGs6I1uZsPvkPC8Kaz-z9D1hZ1lo4B1Y0zYDGmfRqmILES7gi0MQLymA5gPjl9TmYUwu8TW37TODfJe37X4PFdVqos8T1Qjzy70d9Z7KqTFZz0rCfBQ/s320/FrankieComp.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frankie keeping me company in the office.</td></tr>
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This stop took us to the Shawnee Nation Forest in souther Illinois. We came in with no expectations, only knowing that we had found a rare and coveted campground with full hookups.<br />
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As a caveat, we are completely sick of RV parks at this point. They just aren't good. We spent most of the summer in RV parks since it was the busy tourist season and most campgrounds were fully booked for weeks or months into the future. If you know where you are going to be at a certain time it's great to be able to make reservations, but we didn't and couldn't. So we spent the summer crammed into parks with other rv-ers, the ever-present smell of sewer chemicals wafting in the air, no hiking trails, no real nature to speak of. Many times these parks are on the side of a busy highway. In other words, state and national park campgrounds are WAY better. The spaces are huge, you are on the water most of the time, hiking is available without first having to drive somewhere, and they have a much more festive vibe. People love to hang lights and decorations in campgrounds (<i>lots and lots of lights</i>). It's like Christmas all year round. For some reason absolutely no-one hangs up lights in RV parks.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnCuf2JeiWuU48cI3jRbAmMqE8bBdxPWR9KuDliWKnnyDN-q5b8VzPXuydCyawq4Lcs26qkXeA17pOpYxSWlTpY0ch-arQE8SgKIXlPK1krQ3G-AHYmG5FweUGwRsXSZXTKbaJj8LBoo/s1600/HanaMountainTop-CompSM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnCuf2JeiWuU48cI3jRbAmMqE8bBdxPWR9KuDliWKnnyDN-q5b8VzPXuydCyawq4Lcs26qkXeA17pOpYxSWlTpY0ch-arQE8SgKIXlPK1krQ3G-AHYmG5FweUGwRsXSZXTKbaJj8LBoo/s640/HanaMountainTop-CompSM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden of the Gods, one of the Shawnee highlights. </td></tr>
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Our campground these last two weeks was a nice reprieve. Shawnee Forest is huge! It spans most of the souther tip of Illinois, with tons of hiking trails. We visited a lot of them, but we'd have to stay in the area for months to see everything, it's that big.<br />
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James finally got out his fishing poles again this week after months without fishing. We were staying right on a lake, so he was able to get out there are a lot and ended up catching a few bass. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyUuIynD_dadJan9NL24rKGjKykbKyMuh7H19-IJ8I1hN-xxRdnsP8GNmnGiN0dPnyilm7PKYEQ9EraYy6C6sUbMZ7pQ2OKxHaQ7hqcJSMKJCjn49U0j6Thco50xeQD1WLZ1QXDnRQls/s1600/mushroommontage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqyUuIynD_dadJan9NL24rKGjKykbKyMuh7H19-IJ8I1hN-xxRdnsP8GNmnGiN0dPnyilm7PKYEQ9EraYy6C6sUbMZ7pQ2OKxHaQ7hqcJSMKJCjn49U0j6Thco50xeQD1WLZ1QXDnRQls/s1600/mushroommontage.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It was mushroom mania this week!</td></tr>
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Today we are headed back to southern Kentucky where we've found yet another full hookup state park! Now that it's not summer we have our pick of parks, which is great. We really enjoyed Kentucky last year, so looking forward to going back as we head into the "official" final few weeks of our trip.<br />
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJe86pWIn6Y5z7TyvdJLx3tIErSHHAq4EN7kxxMhhv6tVkJ_qEHNq8i1zJ_TLn0eDWSdxZ-NVCXSJFtthC3Crx4-LWbfR-7iFae-v553idz3zhd944_icxYtOtmA62nEFhsvEAZ6q0j_k/s1600/DirtyBirdSM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJe86pWIn6Y5z7TyvdJLx3tIErSHHAq4EN7kxxMhhv6tVkJ_qEHNq8i1zJ_TLn0eDWSdxZ-NVCXSJFtthC3Crx4-LWbfR-7iFae-v553idz3zhd944_icxYtOtmA62nEFhsvEAZ6q0j_k/s640/DirtyBirdSM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old-school Bluebird Wanderlodge, yes made by the bus company.</td></tr>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-48663378913180239122016-09-25T09:11:00.003-07:002016-09-25T09:11:48.970-07:00Missouri<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yYCLJd-EjBm4EXc8ezEVssv_JqisQ3BwgACgALv8BjoFeez6vqhzo7rocN2q7U_s9gch3vhxuB_RpmifdqVKt3C2FPvMFa3uGkgX4JFkWFNwQ_-S-C-E_MDxxUvXC_dEHJ-jlEJv6ZY/s1600/USMap_MO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3yYCLJd-EjBm4EXc8ezEVssv_JqisQ3BwgACgALv8BjoFeez6vqhzo7rocN2q7U_s9gch3vhxuB_RpmifdqVKt3C2FPvMFa3uGkgX4JFkWFNwQ_-S-C-E_MDxxUvXC_dEHJ-jlEJv6ZY/s1600/USMap_MO.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Kansas City & Mark Twain National Forest</td></tr>
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When traveling for an extended period of time all places we stop at just simply can't be a trip to Wally World. Life just isn't like that. On our way to the appalachian trail outside of eating at a couple of good places in Kansas City, our excitement has been mostly taking the dogs for a walk down a street where the residents consider the road private dowmain, and will send their dogs out after you, even if they are just an obnoxious little pomeranian. We have been places where people burn their garbage, plastic and everything. This was a typical walk in Missouri; A man in his yard yelling at the neighbor's dog "I TOLD YOU TO GIT!" while the owner of the dog screams "AHHHHHHHH" at the tope of her lungs and blows her whistle, and an obnoxious pomeranian at our heels letting us know he wasn't standing for it.</div>
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The last week of Missouri we were in an area that is known for it's springs, but while we looked for a pipe to fill our jug the springs were small bubbling riverbeds where the water was clear. I was told by some locals that you just fill up your jugs right in the river. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjngKCln8N2mbfrKdgs_-JAW7QskgMKax-yHbOEe39n71B8hcSkL0RcOi_ymkuDCi3BXI9cp7qT9X6Njs2u9siQ7YAPJzhAKmcCzDGf7JGJgK5DOitou4-9kdHgZNA_aurgWzQUQL43GQ/s1600/HanaRiverDogs.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="488" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjngKCln8N2mbfrKdgs_-JAW7QskgMKax-yHbOEe39n71B8hcSkL0RcOi_ymkuDCi3BXI9cp7qT9X6Njs2u9siQ7YAPJzhAKmcCzDGf7JGJgK5DOitou4-9kdHgZNA_aurgWzQUQL43GQ/s640/HanaRiverDogs.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If you are going through Missouri I would recommend stopping at the Three Springs RV Park. It is a peaceful little place where you have a nice sized lawn and an owner that goes beyond what is expected to accomodate you. There is a large bbq trailer in the pavilion, and the pit master Sue serves up some award winning bbq, including brisket and pulled pork. I was fortunate enough to receive a generous sample of this right after we arrived, and it lived up to the reputation for the bbq that Missouri is known for. As I said, this is a friendly place to stay and rest for a while.</div>
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Overall is has been hot and humid, and we haven't felt like doing much. It seems that one side of the country is bone dry, and the other is covered in a cloud of hot steam. Now we are on our way to southern Illinois to camp at a state park. This will be our first time in a campground for a long time and we are looking forward to it.<br />
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James' most recent cigar box guitar build.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">RV art of the Week:</span></h2>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxhOcmFDCjAvvyxjrp65llGea0MHQUx5SaKvH1zQGyThJ0lThnDiFexpd2VO4Xi9CTZDW109YWlkCd5grYMQTlVbWycJYJWaXr7I1Se-av83I-3GaUDdLc0C6KSd2EnngQQG8-VqlNio/s1600/lionstigers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaxhOcmFDCjAvvyxjrp65llGea0MHQUx5SaKvH1zQGyThJ0lThnDiFexpd2VO4Xi9CTZDW109YWlkCd5grYMQTlVbWycJYJWaXr7I1Se-av83I-3GaUDdLc0C6KSd2EnngQQG8-VqlNio/s400/lionstigers.jpg" width="331" /></a></div>
Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-15899742385350009812016-09-05T10:40:00.001-07:002016-09-05T10:41:46.792-07:00Kansas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpcwZXK5AsCDDB6o1pcReqIw3EUbJOPR2qDMCIzBTFaZzhhf5DC7C_mFD0Dwhl-XLmTcK0AwxaV_mWmY_4FGdSZaE4nN_uubP91Rhwwk4Egl1Ubve5cLsStpSw3DhWAN_wV2URcoAJr7Y/s1600/USMap_KS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpcwZXK5AsCDDB6o1pcReqIw3EUbJOPR2qDMCIzBTFaZzhhf5DC7C_mFD0Dwhl-XLmTcK0AwxaV_mWmY_4FGdSZaE4nN_uubP91Rhwwk4Egl1Ubve5cLsStpSw3DhWAN_wV2URcoAJr7Y/s1600/USMap_KS.jpg" /></a></div>
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When thinking of going on the road one pictures scenic drives and majestic places. An outside may look at what we are doing and say, Wow, you guys are living the dream. Because of this it is tempting to only portray the highlights of this journey, as if we are just bouncing on our tails from one great location to the next like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh. To portray this would not be accurate. There have been places we have had to stop for a few days or a week that were worse than where we left. After going to a lot of towns you see that life really isn't much different anywhere. I am thinking it is a matter of deciding do you want to be around more trees, or people. How far do you want to live from the stores. What types of stores and groceries would you want available to you in a town, and what kind of opportunity is there to make a living in that town.<br />
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Taos was almost my ideal town. With a beautiful forest nearby, organic groceries, good restaurants all in a small enough town that you can get in and out of easily even during the busiest time. It did lack one thing and that was opportunity for pilgrim's like us, and that is a major thing to take into consideration. Durango had some of these characteristics, but Hana would hate the long winters.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6NeOuVY-l8qX4nIxh5SsICxp2stsQIfDr5eXFt3Vy5fzymK4AAmfDFN2S5L9H3jH7PCAo9B1aXW67NY52toz-V1Wk7jUtkReeQYz1dMY7L0mkSNGECzZQnOc7bbbv1imu7w-StTyKH7M/s1600/eaglebar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6NeOuVY-l8qX4nIxh5SsICxp2stsQIfDr5eXFt3Vy5fzymK4AAmfDFN2S5L9H3jH7PCAo9B1aXW67NY52toz-V1Wk7jUtkReeQYz1dMY7L0mkSNGECzZQnOc7bbbv1imu7w-StTyKH7M/s320/eaglebar.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Long Branch bar, Dodge City </td></tr>
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When going ove the border into Kansas the world did not turn black and white as expected. There were no flying rocking chairs, or witches and gypsies. It was somewhat disappointing. We pulled into Dodge City, which is an old historic cowboy town that had a bad reputation until it was cleaned up by Wyatt Earp. We stayed at the Gunsmoke Rv Park which got a lot of bad reviews. After being in a crowded place and breathing everyone's sewer chemicals I figured the place that had a reputation of a crazy owner might not be as busy. Reviews can be deceiving often. The woman did have her particular ways, but she was nice to us. She won't check anyone in before noon, and we did witness some arriving at 10 am being turned away because they showed up too early. I suppose we all have our challenges great and small, and this owner had hers, but I won't condemn her. The park had some trees and was peaceful enough.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25A13OH56e_j6qVlPM8ref15gcOBVqI2NJQ_TVcRhN-X5sCywFYMFS5xFhjk7hBEKwxRMkUhVR-jx-PSEzoIJnaz9FGuWpQGb6q7oGbZxjhtNKumiO_C9kL8-3wYwxbNnrJTo_3_ZviA/s1600/gunfight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25A13OH56e_j6qVlPM8ref15gcOBVqI2NJQ_TVcRhN-X5sCywFYMFS5xFhjk7hBEKwxRMkUhVR-jx-PSEzoIJnaz9FGuWpQGb6q7oGbZxjhtNKumiO_C9kL8-3wYwxbNnrJTo_3_ZviA/s640/gunfight.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An old west gun fight in Dodge City</td></tr>
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The next place we arrived in Witchita was nothing like the reviews, and I did sense some foul play in the ratings because there was one in particular that was going far out of his way to slam another park because he didn't like the way they looked at his and his partner's "high end tattoos", thus claiming that the park hated women and every other type of person that could fit in a minority category. I was wise to this, but we made our choice because one place had internet that worked while the other didn't. The place that was slammed would have otherwise been the better place. I was told on the phone that they had a pull through available during the week. However, when we got there the pull through was an alley right up against a fence behind a gas station. There was dog poo all over the narrow site. We were told that we had to transfer to a back in site the next day, which was nothing of what I was told on the phone. A back in may have had more shade and less dog poop, but we didn't feel like moving everything. I talked them into a couple more days in the site while we stayed there to pretty much receive some packages in the mail and go. It was not a pleasant place to look at with old, beat up permanent sort of trailers and rvs.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvADX2kzQJ4oOWVVPgwS4rRepfYzHskm410ILKa8IbFACJxURXOvFg_NnAfCjP_7JMQl0oHYCvAUkGRlFaQrTHAIoEKzutKKGSzFDyrA_99LACivg-V9QLyWxi7yYoOrYsTDziZ2fNnQ/s1600/Charbar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTvADX2kzQJ4oOWVVPgwS4rRepfYzHskm410ILKa8IbFACJxURXOvFg_NnAfCjP_7JMQl0oHYCvAUkGRlFaQrTHAIoEKzutKKGSzFDyrA_99LACivg-V9QLyWxi7yYoOrYsTDziZ2fNnQ/s400/Charbar.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">BBQ at Char Bar, and a pic of the new Tee</td></tr>
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Now we are in the town of Independance, right outside Kansas City, Mo. There is some great bbq out here, and the pulled pork lives up to it's reputation. I was also able to meet up with my friend, Wayfinder who I met on Cigar Box Nation, a forum and website for people who build cigar box guitars. There are a lot of helpful people on that site, including another one of my friends from Australia, Jonno, who is a top bloke that is going to have me talking like Crocodile Dundee in no time. I also made a tshirt trade with Blues Frog, which you will see in an upcoming photo. I wore the same Sitting Bull t shirt every day for a year, and now I have to flip a coin as to who's shirt I am going to wear. I also finished a 4 string which I am anxious to share with everyone in the next blog.<br />
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We are hoping to get the vinegar to do more exploring in the town, but right now we don't feel like doing much for a few days.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><a href="http://pavlovamericanroadtrip.blogspot.com/p/pink-sauerkraut.html" target="_blank">Pink Sauerkraut Recipe:</a></span></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhOx_-a_e-aNmRJBbNak3EaR1tlk7ZDwI1N1glSYZpnznd-VPb4EjmhOeFL5QDxj5JCGk4URT56ROg5vVqL0twKx2BpXEyWXnvNsAES8mSzip2BAhR0j7iRxQgDjUpI7_USLeujyx7HU/s1600/religiousVan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="408" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGhOx_-a_e-aNmRJBbNak3EaR1tlk7ZDwI1N1glSYZpnznd-VPb4EjmhOeFL5QDxj5JCGk4URT56ROg5vVqL0twKx2BpXEyWXnvNsAES8mSzip2BAhR0j7iRxQgDjUpI7_USLeujyx7HU/s640/religiousVan.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We saw a few more truck/van home conversions like this parked on the street in the same town.</td></tr>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-76721886297235673792016-08-23T16:00:00.000-07:002016-08-23T16:05:46.192-07:00Colorado<div style="text-align: right;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZnYR-HFM4bz-ERdcaNIM-Gm0wfCEdnr0dVGmC-rQOT0LUqIV8Yb8ffI7GSJ46OJ03kuUx-vrEJTuAv0RrBdij5LqgMdvWcAfQ238NVw9LllRxEXrcATTgwvqKAO_XLGGSfrs31SVJmw/s1600/USMap_CO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZnYR-HFM4bz-ERdcaNIM-Gm0wfCEdnr0dVGmC-rQOT0LUqIV8Yb8ffI7GSJ46OJ03kuUx-vrEJTuAv0RrBdij5LqgMdvWcAfQ238NVw9LllRxEXrcATTgwvqKAO_XLGGSfrs31SVJmw/s1600/USMap_CO.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Manitou Springs & Durango (last spring)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nwyP7YbBqd5FCfHh-3TZiKIbbBniLL_6QLu9Y72xYfI4zo9RoT4q9HcOiX1UhTOhyDAP7XAFfDjCTP6TiLylSrVnhddb6bQk-Er0WzGqngfZYbsG88Sp2TvY9WOUVEjr-Q7TIGUB46M/s1600/GardenOfTheGods.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_nwyP7YbBqd5FCfHh-3TZiKIbbBniLL_6QLu9Y72xYfI4zo9RoT4q9HcOiX1UhTOhyDAP7XAFfDjCTP6TiLylSrVnhddb6bQk-Er0WzGqngfZYbsG88Sp2TvY9WOUVEjr-Q7TIGUB46M/s640/GardenOfTheGods.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Garden of the Gods Park</td></tr>
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After going through Colorado twice, I find that I felt different each time. Southwestern Colorado Still had that same magical feeling as northern New Mexico had. It also happened to be snowing when we drove in last spring, which added to the charm. In the south I would recommend that anyone visit the small mining towns which still maintain a remnant of that old west charm.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mountains of south western Colorado</td></tr>
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Looking back at Durango I appreciate it more now than I did when we were there, and that was mainly because we went right after Taos. It's like watching a dance competition when the best one goes first, or having Jimi Hendrix be the opening act. However, out of all the towns we visited, I would say Taos was my favorite, and Durango followed just behind. Durango had plenty of good restaurants, farmer's markets, plenty of streams to fish in, and a nice long trail along the river. It had everything you would need in a small town without being overly congested. Parking and traffic were never a problem. I even found a bookstore in an old house where I felt like I was walking through the home of a book hoarder. This bookstore had more shoot em up cowboy stories than any place I have ever seen. I didn't even get the chance to go all the way through them because I had to dig through two piles of books that were in front of the actual bookshelf. To purchase the books I had to look over a pile to see the guy at the cash register.<br />
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We found a nearby farm with some of the freshest grassfed beef you could get. It was just shy of picking out the cow you wanted for your hamburger. They had baby goats that you could get in the pen and play with. If I had to pick a town to live in I would say Durango would be one of the best options.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijDFyjw6tC9EKNoIgi94L7ZSTSCEgKlRqomolKYH39nTqavAdsV-vUAXHrX3ARfXjMsCMXqfBdUPrq0W9CNGO0tXeOtZaJ5W7OeHTVaRucoBPDY-JPuqy6LwLVhKSgUr06xLuvCnHJus/s1600/Silverton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijDFyjw6tC9EKNoIgi94L7ZSTSCEgKlRqomolKYH39nTqavAdsV-vUAXHrX3ARfXjMsCMXqfBdUPrq0W9CNGO0tXeOtZaJ5W7OeHTVaRucoBPDY-JPuqy6LwLVhKSgUr06xLuvCnHJus/s400/Silverton.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silverton, CO</td></tr>
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Just outside of Durango is the Million Dollar Highway which lives up to it's name. We took it to the small cowboy town Silverton, and it had to be up there with the most beautiful drives we have had. We planned on going to Estes Park this time around, but after driving through the Denver traffic we realized it just wasn't going to happen. All of the rv parks in the area were booked up, and it took us an entire afternoon just to get the reservation in Colorado Springs.<br />
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Colorado Springs was congested and no matter where you drove it seemed like we saw shady activities, but that seems to be a lot of places these days. I was so wrapped up in building the latest guitar that I didn't really care to see any attractions. I can appreciate the lesser admired forests where I can get away and find some peace. Redwood pine looks and smells just as good in those places outside of the national forests.<br />
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I just have a few finishing touches and I will be showing the latest guitar build. This was my first time building a fret board, doing a scarf joint, and carving out f holes with a tiny file. We should have a demo ready the next blog post.<br />
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Central Colorado really just made me want to go to the southwest. The traffic was just too much. The attractions cost a lot of money to be crammed with a bunch of other people to look over a mountain and be restricted where you can walk. I would have to say both of us dislike national parks, at least the popular ones.<br />
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The park we stayed in Manitou Springs was tight, smelled like porta potty chemicals, and was impossible to level the rv. It was nice to have trails to walk into the town right behind us though. A lot of rv parks are off an expressway and there is no where to walk at all. My best buddy Frankie and I were able to take long night time walks without worrying about coyotes, and drank from the several springs in the town which were naturally carbonated, some of which were explosive. One of our jugs busted open from the water from one of the springs. Some of them tasted like an effervescent lemonade. While I loved the water I found myself counting the days I could get away from the crowds and open the windows of the rv again without getting a headache.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBHgehre1Gdf_0etDMxCdetJiViu80KHJa4980CPFyaxHtvR3TyeyfMVS4AZ2MhB964vKnsENRQBWpGQcxQk4mX1cp-XIyM1uy60z0nqyPbxOYpvR0BY16xmpsLBGZj0NjbBx8mDLs4Y/s1600/JamesFrankieRoad.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBHgehre1Gdf_0etDMxCdetJiViu80KHJa4980CPFyaxHtvR3TyeyfMVS4AZ2MhB964vKnsENRQBWpGQcxQk4mX1cp-XIyM1uy60z0nqyPbxOYpvR0BY16xmpsLBGZj0NjbBx8mDLs4Y/s640/JamesFrankieRoad.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Now we are pressing forward towards the Appalachian Trail. I really tried to talk Hana into spending another month in Taos and Durango, but she is ready to head east. The west was a nice backdrop that had me watching old episodes of the Lone Ranger at night on youtube, but the crowds were how I expected them to be. The west likes to say they are more openminded than the southeast, but that is only as long as you believe the same way they do. I enjoyed the southeast, and it will be nice to be able to go fishing without having to pay hundreds of dollars to yank in small farm raised trout with power bait. I will be looking into the Appalachian music scene as it is the birthplace for a lot of handmade instruments. I would like to make an attempt at a gourd banjo, and test out those rubber worms I got in Texas.<br />
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<b><i>-James</i></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Gas & Grass". You guessed it, gas station + dispensary.</td></tr>
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Honestly, I didn't give much thought to the fact that marijuana is completely legal in this state. It was legal in Oregon, but only to residents. In Colorado it seems that business is booming. We have been used to large crowds given that we've frequented tourist destinations all over the west this summer, but Colorado is completely jam packed with tourists. I haven't seen traffic this bad since Ann Arbor during rush hour. Manitou Springs is a nice little town, though. It is a mecca for young vacationers, and almost has a spring break vibe.<br />
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Last weekend we decided to drive up to a hilltop park and walk around the lake. Half way around (or what I THOUGHT was half way) I suggested we keep walking to complete the loop. We had already walked a few miles and I could see the other side of the lake from where we were. Turns out the lake was full of twists, turns, and loops that ended up taking us until almost sundown to complete. Turns out it was 14.5 miles around!! That is probably the longest I've ever walked or ever will walk at one time. It was an actual miracle that Maya didn't stop because she's usually very lazy and if she would have stopped we would have been completely stuck out there. Something tells me she knew the urgency because she didn't even slow down, she just powered through. I actually contemplated calling the ranger to come "rescue"<br />
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To add insult, Frankie got stung in the throat by a bee and didn't want to walk so we carried him for several miles. On the plus side, we saw a bald eagle up close. My first time ever! It's too bad the camera isn't as good as my eye because I could see that thing's pupils! The beach also appeared to be made of shimmering gold, which was neat.<br />
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b><br />
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-4523048249664020292016-08-14T07:01:00.000-07:002016-08-14T07:01:57.493-07:00Yellowstone / Wyoming<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUk7fP6YVNiMrJOnpB27uloo3QXUaLEzNhCD8KRmpxA03_dog1LA86vimgEGoQj_6nfGREIkvtBEUNI3yy7_DecSUC8LdjkzFIsKKbgmy03Xc0a05m3f59ifH6PxXIQEFuZkfFOaqpEM/s1600/smoke.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxUk7fP6YVNiMrJOnpB27uloo3QXUaLEzNhCD8KRmpxA03_dog1LA86vimgEGoQj_6nfGREIkvtBEUNI3yy7_DecSUC8LdjkzFIsKKbgmy03Xc0a05m3f59ifH6PxXIQEFuZkfFOaqpEM/s400/smoke.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wildfire smoke filled that ravine the night before leaving Utah</td></tr>
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These last 2 weeks brought fast paced moving, along with another new tire and a shattered windshield from a rock on the highway.<br />
<br />
For some reason I thought an RV would be less maintenance than owning a home, but now that we're 10 months into the trip it seems like a new issue pops up every week with little time to fix it. Did I mention the wind has destroyed our awning? Every travel day I ask myself "why are we doing this?". It's expensive, it's exhausting, and sometimes it downright sucks.. This trip is either the dumbest thing I've ever done or the most interesting.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5PYCpyXcdtjgzNawoDkJeVfxZCyFRBEo1VeTCfYmSA_ja8XZ_AJO6RY8JPNcyynmAxQUDhkhZfImWMPJaA54WSs8wwd3CFSaw5UW2-K9pxhXcbDOq9FH5FuloXWIBFA_j6Q8SqhnEOo/s1600/YellowstoneDeadForest_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5PYCpyXcdtjgzNawoDkJeVfxZCyFRBEo1VeTCfYmSA_ja8XZ_AJO6RY8JPNcyynmAxQUDhkhZfImWMPJaA54WSs8wwd3CFSaw5UW2-K9pxhXcbDOq9FH5FuloXWIBFA_j6Q8SqhnEOo/s400/YellowstoneDeadForest_SM.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dead forest of Yellowstone.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXX23cejEb4htzHzJp6ZVGNw_h2aU3Nte3_-mSWxQ5MxQF43dO0tgtzpfLpW_Mlq8i-_77uoI62b5-A3BEI8It2eVudlqMgVGpterJ62mvF86q-oPK8L8jRE_Sv6WMJt_Ua7GjKlhQMMc/s1600/YellowstoneMntView_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXX23cejEb4htzHzJp6ZVGNw_h2aU3Nte3_-mSWxQ5MxQF43dO0tgtzpfLpW_Mlq8i-_77uoI62b5-A3BEI8It2eVudlqMgVGpterJ62mvF86q-oPK8L8jRE_Sv6WMJt_Ua7GjKlhQMMc/s400/YellowstoneMntView_SM.jpg" width="400" /></a>Our travels took us to Yellowstone National Park, a place I figured would be way over-hyped so came into it with limited expectations. Good thing I did, because turns out it IS way over-hyped, and way over crowded which I also expected. After driving through so much of this country and seeing so many beautiful places, most of which don't charge you to drive through, I saw very little to be impressed by in Yellowstone. People crowding around to take pictures of elk and Canadian geese, tons of traffic, and miles and miles of dead forest.<br />
<br />
A descent through the east entrance Yellowstone at 8% grade for 5 miles confirmed my desire to never go back. I can't imagine a semi or even a Class A taking that grade, and this route didn't have any of the usual "brake check" areas, truck warnings, or safety turnouts that we are used to seeing on less steep roads.. Just our rig careening down the mountain with nothing but a thin metal railing between us and the cliff.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8eD4AWi0tz7vsfwlu938r7DjZjIBULYtFYrnAgmKTxb1g9ZsqyBC-xneQYUBogSSPkVByijpWw4E9iHFs5IT-WznPtAa1-wqI_Gfpm83T-NWMSmifDphpvmMeIGgInbxO6cMzgkQs7M/s1600/Horse_Mashup_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8eD4AWi0tz7vsfwlu938r7DjZjIBULYtFYrnAgmKTxb1g9ZsqyBC-xneQYUBogSSPkVByijpWw4E9iHFs5IT-WznPtAa1-wqI_Gfpm83T-NWMSmifDphpvmMeIGgInbxO6cMzgkQs7M/s640/Horse_Mashup_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tpLPiVV9YMoITDFKDS-J2cN-D4btWwkHaDCxbwCk2gciHiLK8A5SLjnxdI6Uz0Z8cSteoLlFtvZCtHAyE8pb3JR8uGsiTv67plGfNszi-KIA68HnlhHJSlZfM7RgEOP0YBmVFto-JMg/s1600/Rodeo_Comp_LG.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5tpLPiVV9YMoITDFKDS-J2cN-D4btWwkHaDCxbwCk2gciHiLK8A5SLjnxdI6Uz0Z8cSteoLlFtvZCtHAyE8pb3JR8uGsiTv67plGfNszi-KIA68HnlhHJSlZfM7RgEOP0YBmVFto-JMg/s640/Rodeo_Comp_LG.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5NHQcL1bPt7Hh1wfDwcS2ZKxGjI8S8PAomhyphenhyphenGw8-KELtdOjOX8E3j319K3_QnfeKfadqztk3PxMkljC_QoF6Mri600dzksTSLoMfGCRAFZekORsPwoGMlwGvJlFly8ZtXJhD-YXiGso/s1600/RodeoBBQ_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR5NHQcL1bPt7Hh1wfDwcS2ZKxGjI8S8PAomhyphenhyphenGw8-KELtdOjOX8E3j319K3_QnfeKfadqztk3PxMkljC_QoF6Mri600dzksTSLoMfGCRAFZekORsPwoGMlwGvJlFly8ZtXJhD-YXiGso/s640/RodeoBBQ_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We got to see a small rodeo while in West Yellowstone, which was followed by a cowboy cookout. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNC26luau7Fj-gb6p-8-cFwjlUvRcohukxH7MRSYzpcwIaB7qot4Ji1DXF-AfUzEpdMr1-GoLaGgA25jHnQgjhTR8dUG_rSJau5cBm4SP3cDPoooTCz8zg7_w5M3IbnebUbCjIoyj4og/s1600/James_Pose_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNC26luau7Fj-gb6p-8-cFwjlUvRcohukxH7MRSYzpcwIaB7qot4Ji1DXF-AfUzEpdMr1-GoLaGgA25jHnQgjhTR8dUG_rSJau5cBm4SP3cDPoooTCz8zg7_w5M3IbnebUbCjIoyj4og/s1600/James_Pose_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNC26luau7Fj-gb6p-8-cFwjlUvRcohukxH7MRSYzpcwIaB7qot4Ji1DXF-AfUzEpdMr1-GoLaGgA25jHnQgjhTR8dUG_rSJau5cBm4SP3cDPoooTCz8zg7_w5M3IbnebUbCjIoyj4og/s400/James_Pose_SM.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="265" /></a><br />
While camped outside of Yellowstone we experienced temperatures down into the 30s at night, and even a hail storm one morning! The neighbors informed us that it starts snowing in this area in September.<br />
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Next stop was Cody, Wy, the town Buffalo Bill founded. It is home to the Buffalo Bill Smithsonian, which was a great museum with a natural history and Native American wing as well. </div>
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Next week we will be headed back to Colorado to re-attempt a visit, this time through the north side of the state!</div>
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<b><i>-Hana </i></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Sz_Brtg7RgA8vAOGfa_Z1sy9p1i_MvsSyGWwX9UrdTUnmh2hkBfQMaPMZrtJejcnfJxxwjPSme17nYsfDustj33u52pFo6IaV4l6Xab0GoUVq1qIUm5W-kuy7Z9rDCsjEUchVtOlmyQ/s1600/CIGARBOXGYPSY-TeeSM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Sz_Brtg7RgA8vAOGfa_Z1sy9p1i_MvsSyGWwX9UrdTUnmh2hkBfQMaPMZrtJejcnfJxxwjPSme17nYsfDustj33u52pFo6IaV4l6Xab0GoUVq1qIUm5W-kuy7Z9rDCsjEUchVtOlmyQ/s400/CIGARBOXGYPSY-TeeSM.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This week we co-designed and ordered up some shirts inspired by<br />
James' new guitar box venture. Mom, Dad, we sent them to<br />
you so keep an eye out ;)</td></tr>
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<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-22757632953563129532016-07-30T17:07:00.004-07:002016-07-30T19:54:31.170-07:00The Oregon Trail and on to Idaho<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;">
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZXILfoMbxgNsJw_fNMYpkEFnpKOdpm17lnazfgBh17Qi78kaKCHoUCeJFk9qdAmdD4o38RL42wxvvSruLaR3phcMG64yheHY6BVar7YxnonoPPXiiOcuCOk-qDC-RrrrKYcp_a42u0w/s1600/USMap_ID.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZXILfoMbxgNsJw_fNMYpkEFnpKOdpm17lnazfgBh17Qi78kaKCHoUCeJFk9qdAmdD4o38RL42wxvvSruLaR3phcMG64yheHY6BVar7YxnonoPPXiiOcuCOk-qDC-RrrrKYcp_a42u0w/s1600/USMap_ID.jpg" /></a></td>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pVha2pPZJ6XXf2AAG1n0oIioDDswgL7X5ONq5yzHUjzVdgL8ITi6e88X82hKqOnj0CDUC8-zIUSuoEWNtzk13W4MU-BUSNXa988tG-VFSIxJsA_9zbxBAQ6VwwSo-09Fe2j9dTJqSv0/s1600/OrTrailMap.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pVha2pPZJ6XXf2AAG1n0oIioDDswgL7X5ONq5yzHUjzVdgL8ITi6e88X82hKqOnj0CDUC8-zIUSuoEWNtzk13W4MU-BUSNXa988tG-VFSIxJsA_9zbxBAQ6VwwSo-09Fe2j9dTJqSv0/s400/OrTrailMap.jpg" width="400" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We stopped in Baker City, along the Oregon Trail.</td>
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<span style="text-align: right;">Cons of living in an RV: rounding a sharp corner and having all of your dishes fall out of the top shelf and shatter on the floor..</span>
Yes, we managed to go 9 months without breaking a dish, so I guess it only makes sense that they would all break at once! While this would have once stirred an emotion (understatement), now that we've given up almost all of our worldly goods it hardly phased me.
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmWsMboCyutwP_f31u-dKAlJw29BdywE7uHTGnLNzusV1-7ZKeXH-q0cBugJHAm6zxx4Mnu265x_Nk_R605TwwUW-yyVhPZUhAM2Nxscjg07pZR44_rWJxSbgmr73Ty2JgxNVcUfi52k/s1600/RVWorkshopHana.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnmWsMboCyutwP_f31u-dKAlJw29BdywE7uHTGnLNzusV1-7ZKeXH-q0cBugJHAm6zxx4Mnu265x_Nk_R605TwwUW-yyVhPZUhAM2Nxscjg07pZR44_rWJxSbgmr73Ty2JgxNVcUfi52k/s400/RVWorkshopHana.jpg" width="400" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This old RV.</td>
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Our main goal these last two weeks was to try to stay remotely cool during the heat wave dubbed 'ring of fire', which meant drifting toward some remote, yet picturesque small towns at higher elevations. While it would have been nice to stay in Boise for a few days, at a high of 104 degrees this week we opted to pass on that. We did have the opportunity to park our huge rig right downtown in Boise to shop at Trader Joes, which already has a notoriously tiny parking lot. That was fun!
We've been working on several projects these last two weeks, including finally putting a piece of cedar that we found in Louisiana to use by making a small end table. Every extra space counts! Now we finally have a place to set drinks, etc.
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We've also been getting sick of having to put all the spices away in a cupboard every time we move, so we made a spice rack for the space available behind the stove. I used duct tape to secure it to the counter, so we'll see how that works out :).
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<td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XpnV6ywNLFxTKq4PGdOmnX3H0FUNKJiWAZBpNTMxV2VheiN0CN5kLuJKkiZLtAs797Vt79ssTWDp7eCwcvErT8eLebG8ueTH-TcoAOHF_bWa_JI2ayzWPsD3irrPz19TyZ6lwMiAmZk/s1600/CouchTable.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XpnV6ywNLFxTKq4PGdOmnX3H0FUNKJiWAZBpNTMxV2VheiN0CN5kLuJKkiZLtAs797Vt79ssTWDp7eCwcvErT8eLebG8ueTH-TcoAOHF_bWa_JI2ayzWPsD3irrPz19TyZ6lwMiAmZk/s640/CouchTable.jpg" width="640" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption">Simple table made of found cedar.</td>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdBNeaObRuhxJPdpShe7WB6BwTHH8Ck3LBOy2utXty-XK2lO2zeHpx5DgI9-npTLyZh-ZPsxOrM9rI8JIdxuZ1x7EJILVFF4gZovrfJ-QdayfrLjoVoC4QIzG6shNNdyfc0yHpRCzHto/s1600/SpiceRack.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrdBNeaObRuhxJPdpShe7WB6BwTHH8Ck3LBOy2utXty-XK2lO2zeHpx5DgI9-npTLyZh-ZPsxOrM9rI8JIdxuZ1x7EJILVFF4gZovrfJ-QdayfrLjoVoC4QIzG6shNNdyfc0yHpRCzHto/s400/SpiceRack.jpg" width="400" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Custom spice rack, also made of found wood.</td>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw1QRo_lx2JkaZAZMGKj3fK1mZZ5-lBDNn74-ylpe6q8-bpXvq5367-dbQn8_ElwIDA7EJnAurdAJUs-GbMem-0mNS6zTG8SuHYYR3t7ex_Nd4fd-eoeTfxR5uMDFNH_MRq4Q9cHbUC6M/s1600/JamesChangingTire.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw1QRo_lx2JkaZAZMGKj3fK1mZZ5-lBDNn74-ylpe6q8-bpXvq5367-dbQn8_ElwIDA7EJnAurdAJUs-GbMem-0mNS6zTG8SuHYYR3t7ex_Nd4fd-eoeTfxR5uMDFNH_MRq4Q9cHbUC6M/s400/JamesChangingTire.jpg" width="366" /></a>When we pulled into our Idaho destination James noticed the inner side of the front tire was worn down so much that the tube was exposed! Meaning if we hit a rock, or drove a few more miles it probably would have blown. Luckily we had a spare tire that could be used as a replacement. The hardest part about changing the tire was getting the spare down from the underside of the RV. The nut was solidly fused to the bolt and took a while to pry off. Definitely not something that would be easily accomplished from the side of the road.
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A new spare cost us a mere.. $200! Apparently tires vary in price from state to state, the west coast being much more expensive than what we're used to in the car capitol of southeast Michigan.
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-<em><strong>Hana</strong></em>
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRRzaZhdqJ4HaKNvLvtZcvxgLSlbTLQpIbPJC4Zp8njG1vaAGJPoX40jBGOH-YosO-3VeiIrEVLad_ZJ2N4HPDlh1-N-OhyC7UPDRtkQ66jzVTZ0NPnJcVzX4LoZCSCN34OTdU0uNZC8/s1600/HanaFrankieBridge_SM.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="507" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQRRzaZhdqJ4HaKNvLvtZcvxgLSlbTLQpIbPJC4Zp8njG1vaAGJPoX40jBGOH-YosO-3VeiIrEVLad_ZJ2N4HPDlh1-N-OhyC7UPDRtkQ66jzVTZ0NPnJcVzX4LoZCSCN34OTdU0uNZC8/s640/HanaFrankieBridge_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The desert of east Oregon turns into lush forest right along the river.</td>
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<strong>James' Oregon follow-up:</strong>
<strong>
</strong>
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For a few years now I thought I would always want to live in Oregon, and for some reason Eugene had stuck in my mind as the place to live because I envisioned it being a smaller town with easy access to beautiful forests. When we got there the hills weren't as magnificent and the town was busier than we expected. The rv park we reserved for a month was in between an expressway and a trailer park in a small town ten miles outside of Eugene called Creswell.
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When making the reservation I had talked to Dennis, the manager a bit about fishing. I pictured making a new buddie, being away from traffic, and having a great month. When we were setting up some of the long term residents were out drinking beer, and I pictured them in my mind making eyes at my wife all day. Well, we stayed a night and it wasn't so bad, so we reserved a week. By the end of the week I found the longterm residents were actually the some of the most helpful and neighborly people we had met so far. I noticed that people watched each others dogs, shared their barbeque, and all around looked out for one another. The end of the week came and we just didn't feel like moving. We had been doing this one state a week thing for a while and felt like we should just slow down for a bit. By week two I was giving people haircuts, and the manager gave us a monthly rate. All the long term people said that they only planned staying there a week, but somehow stayed for a while. I started to become afraid that we too would get stuck.
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The month went by fast, but then felt like we had been there a long time. Eugene grew on me, and it was nice to be able to get decent groceries for a reasonable price. Surprisingly since Taos I have been able to find organic apples cheaper than what conventional apples go for. Natural Grocers has been a favorite place where I can stock up on grass fed hormone free beef and Hana can load up on her Tofracky.
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I made some good friends most of all, and was sad to leave. My first impressions were completely wrong. I could feel a small corner of my heart making a home of that place next to the noisy expressway, while at the same time it was all too similar to where we had left. It was time to move.
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I spent a lot of time working on my second cigar box guitar. I had struck a deal on a bunch of boxes and went to work on number two. While it isn't perfect, for my second guitar I am happy with the way it came out. I don't have many tools, so most of my work is by using a decent handsaw, a drill, and a variety of files. I did all of the soldering also for the electronics.. I made a resonator out of a small pet dish, which gives it that raw, southeastern blues sound that I wanted. Needless to say, there are more in the works. To justify getting an amplifier I promised Hana I would go busking with my blues boxes out in the streets. There will be more pictures as well as some videos to demonstrate the sounds I will be getting out of them. Before we got to Nashville where I got my acoustic I never dreamed my old passion for music would be rekindled, nor did I dream I would be making my own instruments. Now I am joining cigar boxes together and frequenting thrift shops to find things to make resonators out of. I am also making now making my boxes in a way that will represent some of my favorite places we have been.
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Bend was our next big town, which we thought we would really love. It was a nice town, but the driving and traffic made us thinking Eugene was the better city. We did get a good deal on some tires from a family run business, and a couple of shops offered to sell my guitars for me.
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The drive out of bend to the east side of the state was long, but the landscape was dreamlike in a way. We were happy to find most of the places we stayed had water from wells free from chlorine and everything else. The small town of Baker City had a great restaurant that baked it's own bread, served grass fed beef, and had some excellent cinnamon rolls. I stopped in the local guitar shop a few times trying out amplifiers, and the owner ended up giving me a six string guitar without the hardware to do what I want with, and sold me the ideal amplifier for seventy less than what I would have payed for it elsewhere.
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So after six weeks in Oregon it feels like home to us in a way. It's an overall easy state to live in, and some parts of it are very beautiful. In Eugene you are less than an hour from the coast, and the same amount of time to get to the mountains. Overall it seems like a generally laid back state, and we may possibly return. Taos, New Mexico is still one of my favorite locations, as well as southern Colorado, but Oregon seemed to really grow on us. All in all the weather in Oregon has been mild, the people have been friendly, and even in Eugene there is an abundance of farms to get groceries from.
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<td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqFSZBwDtbvVlQoNuOz_Pul52q60qY-LBBbvQmN1V4vmO-5QBq7akv5G1TGhMLPRUGERGLxRzhFrIGVCazYilnIQcHl-lvYpTXTgSL-BW80qNUcyMX4_kE7Lm9AaxYU_2slKdjah2fPU/s1600/JamesCardriving.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtqFSZBwDtbvVlQoNuOz_Pul52q60qY-LBBbvQmN1V4vmO-5QBq7akv5G1TGhMLPRUGERGLxRzhFrIGVCazYilnIQcHl-lvYpTXTgSL-BW80qNUcyMX4_kE7Lm9AaxYU_2slKdjah2fPU/s640/JamesCardriving.jpg" width="640" /></a></td>
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<td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The LONG drive from Baker City to Moore, Idaho.</td>
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We are in our first week in Idaho, and camped out in the middle of the state. The businesses in the small towns surrounding mostly are only open a few days. If you are going to stop outside of the Crater's of the Moon National Park, Moose Crossing RV is the better park to stay in, and the owners Jeff and Barbara are incredibly nice people and will do whatever they can to help you out.
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMfy-HdHte3ql3KoK2Z7LDBKhdF1mTZ4WVSkm8MyLA_z99JCDCtYfgaQnotRdrBcGR9GYaoCVG0BdVNQLyS_ccaRkGLLhpyDvAWjsZKG8wQalMFQwtINTxwbYgyoow1z7hTeZ_emc9ic/" style="margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-json="" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSMfy-HdHte3ql3KoK2Z7LDBKhdF1mTZ4WVSkm8MyLA_z99JCDCtYfgaQnotRdrBcGR9GYaoCVG0BdVNQLyS_ccaRkGLLhpyDvAWjsZKG8wQalMFQwtINTxwbYgyoow1z7hTeZ_emc9ic/" title="Idaho" width="640" /></a></div>
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It has been a hot week in the desert, and very little shade is to be found. I am not usually one to move too fast, but found the heat even slowed me down more. I spent most of my time working on guitars 3, 4, and 5. I had a lesson this week in cutting and glueing a scarf joint. I am doing all of this without the assistance of any power tools outside of a drill, and occasionally a dremel. I am not going to complain, because doing things the old fashioned way and learning precision with a few crude tools will only build a stronger learning foundation.
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As for animals I seem to have a way with cats that don't like other people. One of the owner's outdoor cats, Stella, has visited me often while I work outside. The owners told me that she doesn't go up to anyone but them. They found her on a hike when she was a kitten. Someone had put her and her brother in a plastic grocery bag, and left her out in the woods.
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Here is a short video demonstration of my second guitar, and first attempt at making one electric:
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<iframe data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/WFdnJFwmaS8/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="400" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/WFdnJFwmaS8?feature=player_embedded" width="600"></iframe></div>
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I soldered a piezo transducer to a volume pot and jack, and surprisingly I am overall happy with it. The next guitar will have a magnetic pickup.It has a few minor flaws, most of which are fixable. The main thing I would do different from here on out is put the bridge in the middle of the resonator, and set the neck a quarter inch higher. I am not going to attempt to change anything because the flaws in this guitar happen to give it a unique sound even unplugged, and I have ended up playing this guitar every day. It seems to have a raw bluesy sound, which is what I was after. I ate a lot of beets for a couple of weeks to get the red stain. There is about 25 coats of boiled beet water on it. So in conclusion I am happy with this guitar. It has a lot of volume unplugged, and has a raw sound that I would not attempt to change.
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We are now on our way to northeast Idaho, outside of Yellowstone, where it will be a little cooler and give us a good week of sleeping weather.
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<strong><em>-James</em></strong>
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<strong><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1psTJmQHQ4AKxq245B3l9gIkZVoQDC4eeaJIpDZ0cvQjFLZaXq9C7nJbTYaous74L8vbFlKmPr467nAqLPGKAoGlDxBHJeVMyJelC9oMaNAVALTG8HEeCsmJNeUY95yzVkxMWtB1cGVg/s1600/MayaOregonDesert_Desat.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" height="544" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1psTJmQHQ4AKxq245B3l9gIkZVoQDC4eeaJIpDZ0cvQjFLZaXq9C7nJbTYaous74L8vbFlKmPr467nAqLPGKAoGlDxBHJeVMyJelC9oMaNAVALTG8HEeCsmJNeUY95yzVkxMWtB1cGVg/s640/MayaOregonDesert_Desat.jpg" width="640" /></a></em></strong>
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</div>Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-8417603513274727732016-07-17T09:44:00.000-07:002016-07-17T09:44:11.608-07:00Oregon<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFIiTjRZtiBD_hkgMK84AvkyGmPvaSSmgF4QWiXhn8L9kmKHkHnc_Jr8_9EYg_K4mgBpBSsE9IYjXRTyUf2ZopYKSnBbKCRTorlrRAhajsQMJsRviwrt5rxBhYuN-IxJ6Hxmb9c1Q9Mo/s1600/USMap_OR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFIiTjRZtiBD_hkgMK84AvkyGmPvaSSmgF4QWiXhn8L9kmKHkHnc_Jr8_9EYg_K4mgBpBSsE9IYjXRTyUf2ZopYKSnBbKCRTorlrRAhajsQMJsRviwrt5rxBhYuN-IxJ6Hxmb9c1Q9Mo/s1600/USMap_OR.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Eugene, OR</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2EBnGXO1lylCt3v6GI7Y_ikM4OdFqE9cdWIsHOLWINn_EO3WfWPjfB2hmA8OPbv-OaN6-ChFuqNr5-k4w5s6x8uYZRWASpPlgwst4tCJzQ6zegepZ5mu2x2UEgdGrP8zW7LC6A5CQkY/s1600/LargeORTree_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2EBnGXO1lylCt3v6GI7Y_ikM4OdFqE9cdWIsHOLWINn_EO3WfWPjfB2hmA8OPbv-OaN6-ChFuqNr5-k4w5s6x8uYZRWASpPlgwst4tCJzQ6zegepZ5mu2x2UEgdGrP8zW7LC6A5CQkY/s400/LargeORTree_SM.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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After several weeks of hectic travel, we were due for a long stay. We parked in Eugene for a month, then moved on to Redmond (near Bend) for another week long stay. </div>
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Oregon is probably the state that we had highest expectations for. It's always stood out as a kind of dream place to live due to the climate and culture. </div>
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It also has beautiful coast lines, forests, mountains, and is certainly more progressive than a lot of the states we've been to so far. </div>
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The city of Eugene has banned the use of plastic grocery bags, and has a large recycling dumpster right next to every single garbage dumpster. Which came as a relief to this compulsive recycler since almost none of the RV parks we've been to offer that service. Best of all you don't have to pump your own gas here!! I found it strange to have a gas pump attended at first but quickly remembered I've always had a strong dislike for pumping gas, especially in the winter. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Newport, OR</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbo2Szn5YhvXxwbr4IPKRvUr0aQ401zj-s8dULfQz0V8uj9-zsauMiyfiqOrYgOToFn1OddDPHKyd9u957z-fVXK4ajOkm5bn-3UWnwVf6ILLedgTLeU5X7kk0zb3AAqwaiGDwSKZws8/s1600/RogueFarms_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcbo2Szn5YhvXxwbr4IPKRvUr0aQ401zj-s8dULfQz0V8uj9-zsauMiyfiqOrYgOToFn1OddDPHKyd9u957z-fVXK4ajOkm5bn-3UWnwVf6ILLedgTLeU5X7kk0zb3AAqwaiGDwSKZws8/s400/RogueFarms_SM.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5h8I9x66mmoH2h1zp8ZFFpZVM1hMcnWka7yNX2quaxGCoR5M61w7GfZYM59vSiKnaxkz_bgKTJhA51yOtx6Y6axs1iVPniySYYxz_CxHPdA_atEwKT5vLpaBuUrRDEdZ1pk4gbfwZZ4/s1600/NewportBeach_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGk9fw6p_NLLs72Qy3tA9Vic3my2gZ-UmEvR-Gsn5sSuI6qyOnFKS1QMI75ne79D0qmKwDtaipLtsf5lS0LRGBUjR_cZPIOZ3DHi-g52LFYElSAja2m-71AoghZfT51yfYscbbfPAtnZo/s1600/SeaLion.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGk9fw6p_NLLs72Qy3tA9Vic3my2gZ-UmEvR-Gsn5sSuI6qyOnFKS1QMI75ne79D0qmKwDtaipLtsf5lS0LRGBUjR_cZPIOZ3DHi-g52LFYElSAja2m-71AoghZfT51yfYscbbfPAtnZo/s320/SeaLion.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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We took a day trip to Newport, on the coast of Oregon. What a gorgeous town! We walked along the beach for a few miles, then headed downtown for some pizza and beer and Rogue Brewery. We also stopped to watch a few of the local sea lions that hang out near the dock. They bark and bark and bark. Crab, jelly fish, and huge starfish could also be seen from the dock.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_YY91Fkp47LmJff2m_xUlK-MmGqSqfhoHPr1cuysVmEiWraWgWRuyDOe3k11YP7RV-Z5HBlp-Mjo9y6qaEtS9AyP0lEuBpLh1m_LtgxJvwjYwyQ7lWJY74Oq_mER0b4Pz-fPT6iqIW4/s1600/James_redguitar_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_YY91Fkp47LmJff2m_xUlK-MmGqSqfhoHPr1cuysVmEiWraWgWRuyDOe3k11YP7RV-Z5HBlp-Mjo9y6qaEtS9AyP0lEuBpLh1m_LtgxJvwjYwyQ7lWJY74Oq_mER0b4Pz-fPT6iqIW4/s640/James_redguitar_SM.jpg" width="448" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James' handmade cigar box guitar. <span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Inlayed copper fret markers, inlayed cork, hand carved bridge, handmade stains, and a dog bowl resonator.</span></span></td></tr>
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James spent his time making new friends, working on his 2nd handmade cigar box guitar, doing a few haircuts, and even giving a guitar lesson to our neighbor. Needless to say, this was another location that I had to drag him away from.. The residents of the park even called after we left to say they missed him.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlpvp2jFJ5yPk_SxHTdYk-sbkaEB37R6HbJYWeKPYpe7WpYeznezef7xeULaiGUer3ZlU6mKe5gye_hyphenhyphenlFvd9G5l_luTKJw8er1Kr2eff-2vx2mQakIdRx6xZOwMK1rGoX8GzgDk24b8/s1600/RoseGarden_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlpvp2jFJ5yPk_SxHTdYk-sbkaEB37R6HbJYWeKPYpe7WpYeznezef7xeULaiGUer3ZlU6mKe5gye_hyphenhyphenlFvd9G5l_luTKJw8er1Kr2eff-2vx2mQakIdRx6xZOwMK1rGoX8GzgDk24b8/s640/RoseGarden_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Portland Rose Garden</td></tr>
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We took another day trip to Portland. They have a great (free) park on the outskirts of the city. </div>
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We stopped in the rose garden and got a bunch of nice photos. We happened to be there 4th of July weekend, though, and the place was completely swamped. </div>
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The downtown was not very impressive. I had always built Portland up in my mind as the best city evarr but turns out it looks like most other large cities with tall buildings, tons of homeless people, etc. One afternoon is admittedly not long enough to get an accurate feel for a place, but that's what I took away from it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCK-B4hhot3O1bVx-l3vHLdcfthsF5oVtWs1kZfvWBMl6JR-acJn7z57vJzDXtuBTdxEPUzZQRa3OjbWFmiKzUBYq4_hqErBBSoLehlaK2U5yAyHs5SZ1lU_rwyxM6DHFwTrJDrlHO50o/s1600/Rose_Small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCK-B4hhot3O1bVx-l3vHLdcfthsF5oVtWs1kZfvWBMl6JR-acJn7z57vJzDXtuBTdxEPUzZQRa3OjbWFmiKzUBYq4_hqErBBSoLehlaK2U5yAyHs5SZ1lU_rwyxM6DHFwTrJDrlHO50o/s400/Rose_Small.jpg" width="258" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGNar0tBIF6pAILn7SJlCaAt7pDUI4XSynZeHT5O2MqOw9JMB8hjGLFbK7-aGZIvZ3fxbeo1ab6Oh4OVfNyJ6uWe5yDMRtPWZws_Mbimlbcva-Exj4SjFtXypynQ7V0y5FmICHH6E_o8/s1600/Hana_Rose_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGNar0tBIF6pAILn7SJlCaAt7pDUI4XSynZeHT5O2MqOw9JMB8hjGLFbK7-aGZIvZ3fxbeo1ab6Oh4OVfNyJ6uWe5yDMRtPWZws_Mbimlbcva-Exj4SjFtXypynQ7V0y5FmICHH6E_o8/s400/Hana_Rose_SM.jpg" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mt. Washington in central Oregon</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJQW8xKXp7y-z_o-FvluKblLoff85st4Ulmg-DxkOnX7AXWWcpCeURyMsXrbFGmwGAKGS7cjUVRHBhdf5Q5q4LisHzB_Qn5QbrxMT8PYurXibzmul1W8EXLfhORkAiKsGq0hlFB8qvHA/s1600/TupoloFalls_Sm_Combo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="372" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJQW8xKXp7y-z_o-FvluKblLoff85st4Ulmg-DxkOnX7AXWWcpCeURyMsXrbFGmwGAKGS7cjUVRHBhdf5Q5q4LisHzB_Qn5QbrxMT8PYurXibzmul1W8EXLfhORkAiKsGq0hlFB8qvHA/s640/TupoloFalls_Sm_Combo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Tupelo Falls, and a mysterious dead forest </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James at work building guitars in our RV park.</td></tr>
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On our drive over the mountains to Bend we passed through an eerie dead forest, I'm guessing because of the drought the east side of the state is experiencing.</div>
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I knew the east side of the state gets less rain than the west side, but I did not expect it to be a complete desert like it is!<br />
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Bend turned out to be a beautiful town, with great parks and restaurants. We also drove in through Sisters, which is 20 minutes outside of Bend. It is a very cute little tourist town, which would have been a nice place to visit if we had had the time!<br />
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This week we stocked up on groceries and got 4 new (badly needed) tires and an oil change for the car as we prepare to tackle the trip back to the eastern side of the US. We are probably collecting a few more things that we should be, such as tools, books, etc. But still not feeling too confined in our small space. The dogs probably miss running since we haven't had any fenced-in dog runs at our recent RV parks. The desert is not a friendly place for dogs. A lot of prickly things for them to step on in the brush, sharp rocks, and grass seeds which cause sneezing fits. Not to mention rattle snakes! It's very nice for them to have a nice grassy yard.<br />
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'courier new', courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 22px;">RV Art of the Week</span><span style="font-size: small;">(in true Pacific Northwest fashion)</span><span style="font-size: 22px;">:</span></span></h2>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-1854102426755869772016-06-19T12:26:00.000-07:002016-06-19T12:26:11.324-07:00Northern California<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Part 1</b><br />
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With a good seven months of traveling under our belt, we are finding that making a reservation at an rv park is often like agreeing to go on a blind date. You have a few pictures along internet presentation, and your imagination is left to fill in the blanks. Often our imaginations don't have enough to give us a realistic picture until we get there, and our hopes and desires can't paint pictures for us as if we could photoshop the future. Some rv parks were better than we expected, and some were so far off what they promised that we felt cheated. Then there are those few that seem like someone tried to combine an rv park with Wally World and it all went bad. </div>
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We were trying to escape the hundred degree plus weather on our route north, which led us to Carson City Nevada, where we would have mild weather and be near Lake Tahoe. When Hana gave me the number to book the reservation, and I talked to a very friendly older woman named Ivy, I was picturing being near redwood pines in some sleepy little park with shade. I found I couldn't be further from the mark when the gps led us to a park off a busy street under construction, right next to a Walmart. Now folks, I realize one cannot travel the country and expect beauty one hundred percent of the time. Since the place had a pool, I told myself I could deal with all of the noise of being in the middle of a bunch of chain stores and burn off some of this fat swimming before my wife starts calling me papa bear. </div>
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My gut told me not to book the entire week. Hana snapped at me when we pulled into the park when I said,"This is the place?" Her exclamation was,"You don't appreciate anything!" I knew I had to tread lightly, and try to get some extra exercise at the pool for a week. When she went in to the office to check us in, my gut told me to follow behind her before she payed for a week. Knowing she wouldn't lose her mind right in front of nice Ivy, I stood firm on paying for a day to be sure we wanted to stay there. Hana doesn't like moving during the week, but it's good to have options. Nevertheless, my gut had served us right. The park smelled like a porta-poddy. Hana couldn't sleep, while I got a headache that lasted two days. </div>
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The next day I found a place for us in Sierra Valley, forty minutes past Reno. The park had no reviews online, just a simple statement along with a photo of some empty spaces with mountains and wildflowers in the background. I followed my gut, and gave them a call. It was a good sign in my book when I was told that a reservation would not be necessary. "If you don't see anybody, just knock on the door of the trailer in the front and someone should answer." When we got there the park of 43 sites looked exactly how I expected. A bunch of empty spaces with a few full timers camped out.</div>
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I got out and talked to a man on a riding mower and let him know we wanted to stay. His expression seemed to say, "Are you sure?" I let him know what he had was exactly what we were looking for. Some peace and quiet with a view, and most of all, fresh air. We parked the rig next to a tree in the middle of all the empty spots where we had some nice green grass for once. </div>
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The town is called Beckwourth. It has a population of 430, and while there are cars pushing down highway 70 as fast as they can, everything moves slow in this town that probably goes unnoticed by all those people in a rush. The mountains aren't huge, breathtaking monsters that make people stop and take pictures, but they don't need to be to be beautiful. There is a lot of farmland, where the cattle can lazily wander through the sage brush and feed on the lush, green grass. I liked to take walks down one dirt road in particular where I could walk down the middle of the road and moo at the cattle on both sides of me. Call me a simple man if you will, but I really like to daydream in places like this while listening to birds on the wire sing. I like looking out at the fields of green sage, light umber, and violet wildflowers, imagining a time in this country where weary pioneers looking for a home would find some dreamy land and call it home. Modern life is filled with so much buzzing and beeping and rushing it's no wonder that most of the time society does not seem to be thinking entirely straight. As my dad always likes to mention the pioneers rv was a covered wagon and thats it. They didn't have all of the luxuries of a house all rolled up one 10 by thirty space. Their houses didn't even have all of the features that a small camper would have these days. What they did have was an understanding of land, and how to make use of it. I like to imagine these traveling pioneer families stopping to camp in a field and calling it home, sleeping next to fires at night while they built log cabins in the day. </div>
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So for that week Hana and I enjoyed the simplicity of our location. Farmers all waved when passing, and we were pretty much left alone. We barely even saw the people who owned the park. </div>
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We did find a lake in the middle of a lush forest full of redwood pine with trails to hike around with the dogs. The lake had a story to it which I will share before closing this entry since I do like to rip on how ridiculous the departments of fishing and wildlife can be. So it goes like this as told to me by a local, and confirmed by a billboard near the lake with a picture of a northern pike eating a small trout. Someone had "illegally" introduced northern pike to the lake five years ago, leaving the department of wildlife no choice but to poison the entire lake. Being from Michigan, pike is not considered an invasive intruder. It is a fish that will come flying out of the water if you get one on the end of your line that you can either keep or throw back. They are boney and difficult to fillet, but are a sweet tasting fish that a lot of people up north love. Yes they do feed on trout, but so do striped bass, and nobody poisons a lake to get rid of them. Fish eat other fish. It's just how it all works. Not all of the pike died when the lake was poisoned, and the billboard states that should you catch one of these "invasive species" you are not to throw it back, but to behead it and take it to such and such department at such and such location. All of this to protect all of the farm raised trout that have been put in the lake after most of the wild fish were killed off. Yep, makes a lot of sense to me. What would nature do without these departments managing things? I wonder what those old pioneers and cowboys I read and dream about would have to say about this?</div>
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<b>Part 2</b></div>
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If you have seen the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, then you would remember that demented sort of high pitched sound of two piano wires being scraped together. I have not seen the movie in years, but that sound is unforgettable. Driving into Tionesta, Ca, which is a single street outside the Modoc National forest, that sound came to mind as almost all of the 10 properties on the street were decorated with cowskulls and various other bones. Among the skulls were strategically placed lava rocks from the nearby lava beds. There were two rv parks, a general store that was permanently closed.</div>
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When we pulled into The Eagles Nest, which did not look as nice as the park we saw at the beginning of the street, and old man on crutches and a pirate skull shirt greeted us. We had to ask ourselves what kind of place we stumbled upon, since there was not a single store or gas station for at least 30 miles one way, and fifty the other. At first while it looked like the park we didn't have a reservation at was the better park, since it had a lot of trees that provided shade, a large fire pit, and well kept grounds. When I asked the owner where the laundry was, he said it was broken down, but he would take our laundry in his house and do it for us. Neither of us really cared to have anyone else do our laundry, so I brought it down to the neighboring park and asked if I could do it there. We considered moving there, but when I tested the wifi signal and found it was weak, we decided to stay where we were.</div>
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By the end of the day I realized that even though there was barely any shade that we made the better choice. The owners of the Eagle's Nest were extremely friendly and helpful, and if they had to do any groundskeeping around our site always asked us if it would be okay first. They let us know about a cave that the old man had discovered 10 years ago, and a trail that led up to the fire watch behind the park. Also a plus was that they had two fat, old goats which I fed and made friends with.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"> I also made the first friend that I had made in a while since we have been in the west. I made a lot of friends in the south, but since we left Mississippi the only other town that I had made some friends was in Taos. I believe one reason is that the fishing licenses for out of town got way too expensive, so I have not fished at all since New Mexico. It is over a hundred for a license in Oregon, and when I saw the two limit fish sign in California I didn't even bother looking. I was heading for the hiking trail that led to the fire watch station when I noticed another guy with a walking stick going the same way. Half of my crabby mind just wanted to walk up the mountain alone, while the better half said shut up and give the guy a chance. His name was Bob, and he was a friendly guy that retired from the phone company that now lives in seclusion in the mountains on the east side of Yosemite. When I saw that like me was a loner and had the same sense of disdain I have for politics and mainstream culture, I found that we got along well. When we got to the fire watch we climbed up and talked to the woman on duty who had a lot of information on the area for us. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUNhZcUgWfh4WnTAYWv8CIuWtHJQdhl6MKfDswwN-xRZ_N8nq8G_1Lx3LbY74KxKM82wRgIYEO3C4EH69kn7zHcm5V4OMbO3SKGD5380-KwReQVRYAIhDPF7pAcbNPDS4KnqLEpEfLvg/s1600/HanaCave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUNhZcUgWfh4WnTAYWv8CIuWtHJQdhl6MKfDswwN-xRZ_N8nq8G_1Lx3LbY74KxKM82wRgIYEO3C4EH69kn7zHcm5V4OMbO3SKGD5380-KwReQVRYAIhDPF7pAcbNPDS4KnqLEpEfLvg/s400/HanaCave.jpg" width="400" /></a>The main attraction of the Modoc National Forest was caves formed by molten lava and lava beds. We didn't know until we got there. There was even a cave a mile outside of our rv park that had Native American writing on the walls. The cave was discovered by the old man that ran our rv park ten years ago, although his wife said she was not sure that he ever explored it. To get in you had to crouch down into a small hole. I have to admit it was a little frightful for me at first, but after we had explored a few caves I started to get used to it. It was a great experience to overcome the fear, and I never really thought I would ever find myself exploring these tunnels on this trip.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7dAbtCUezZlcxkJ_F4o9FWysWTbvPJ_MdxJ5AZwJy5n7SreyzIdiaqU5pANymfstLiG2mAc-mn3jTP5pmx3iAbYUfXjYtoaXT_OoNmJqKfmygu3Rl8PEBtwVsRdB4nFl-nXyolfOh5o/s1600/IMG_1768.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig7dAbtCUezZlcxkJ_F4o9FWysWTbvPJ_MdxJ5AZwJy5n7SreyzIdiaqU5pANymfstLiG2mAc-mn3jTP5pmx3iAbYUfXjYtoaXT_OoNmJqKfmygu3Rl8PEBtwVsRdB4nFl-nXyolfOh5o/s640/IMG_1768.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5wKTcygmXmpob0dZgnYk22YrPbCR-O4kGyaYDVhkc_Di7mQ2sWO1NpHgiWpQmoH26v5OO9d58jswQSHlrlcuY7NgbJbwV9c231AGSU7QTdldpnckkFNc5NxJ_mfHKo68-0IEEwtioYM/s1600/IMG_1767.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh5wKTcygmXmpob0dZgnYk22YrPbCR-O4kGyaYDVhkc_Di7mQ2sWO1NpHgiWpQmoH26v5OO9d58jswQSHlrlcuY7NgbJbwV9c231AGSU7QTdldpnckkFNc5NxJ_mfHKo68-0IEEwtioYM/s400/IMG_1767.JPG" width="290" /></a><span style="background-color: white;">Overall I sort of miss Northern California. It was peaceful and there was plenty of seclusion. Folks were friendly, and it was nothing at all how I pictured California, or what I knew of the southern part of the state when I had been there before. A lot of people in northern California talk of how they want to separate from the southern are from San Diego to San Francisco. The only difficult part of it was getting decent groceries. We stocked up in Reno, and didn't have a problem, but if we were going to stay longer we would have had a hard time. </span></div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-54224779839047024682016-06-01T18:40:00.002-07:002016-06-01T18:59:57.380-07:00California<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Lone Pine, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px;">I remember reading an over-rated novel two decades ago that was written in the late 80's, and the main back drop was Death Valley. I am not going to mention the name of it, nor do I really want to sit here and slam another person's work as if I am some sort of critic. With yelp and other forms of social media, critics are a dime a dozen these days. It was interesting enough to finish, and at the time anyone who had a poetic way of describing things caught my interest, where as now I prefer honest and direct over the heavily decorated sentences that make you wonder if they are saying much at all. The author did successfully describe the heat in a way that made me never want to go to Death Valley, being one who prefers a mild climate with cooler nights. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Death Valley</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> The first thing I have to say about Death Valley is that I am surprised that there is a fee to drive through a hundred miles of sand. There is nothing to hunt or fish for, and I'm not really sure what the big event would be other than if I were a road warrior with a souped up dune buggy in a futuristic era. We didn't pay the fee, but had a national park pass that probably covered it. Don't get me wrong, parts of it were pretty, but the scenery didn't stick with me or Hana. There was about 30 miles or so of incline that didn't appear to be steep at all, but put a tremendous strain on the rig. All ten cylinders seemed to be saying " I think I can...I think I can" while struggling to go over 35 miles an hour. Since we are towing a car, and with the extra weight I gained in Vegas, I didn't push it. On the way down there was a 9 percent grade which really freaked Hana out, and she is now convinced it was named Death Valley because of the drive on the way down the mountain as opposed to the blistering heat it is known for.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mt. Whitney, Lone Pine</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> By the time we got to Lone Pine, California I had a rip-roaring sinus headache. Driving days often do that to me. I suppose I will mention here that the hardest part about living in an rv for me is the allergy that I have to all the materials on the inside. The materials in newer rvs are much lighter than they were in the old days, but the voc level is higher. While one person may have to live with arthritis, or some other ailment that never goes away, I have allergies. It is becoming a more well known fact that a lot of people are getting cancer from all types of household materials. Few notice what is happening to them, while people like me can hardly stand to be in a Walmart more than 10 minutes because of all the products in there which contain benzene and formaldehyde. Needless to say, I keep the windows open even on some cold days and nights and drive my wife nuts. She struggles to be warm, and I struggle to breathe. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">from Mt. Whitney, Lone Pine</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lone Pine is a small, desert town surrounded by mountains. It has a hostel downtown, and seems to attract a lot of young backpackers and die hard hikers. There wasn't much wildlife to be seen in our area other than a few furry little this and thats mumscumbling around the dust and brush. Twelve miles down the road was trailhead access to one very beautiful area full of aspens, rock, and clear flowing streams. The dogs enjoyed the hike through the mountains as much as we did.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">James' homemade cigar box guitar</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> While I waited for Hana to get off work I finished constructing my first cigar box guitar. It holds it's tune well, and is designed for playing slide only in open G tuning. Now that I have built one, I have a better idea of what I want to do on the next one, which will be a little more advanced and be electric. The creativity that one can have with these things is limitless, and I can see why some of the people that make them really get a bug for it. I have plans for making four so far.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: 16px;">Next we headed to Lee Vining right outside Yosemite National Park. I was up naturally at 6:30 the first morning, exited to get the day started. The previous night I discovered a spring, and filled up as many jugs as I could. While the few people I asked said it is good water, I had a little rumbling going on in my stomach. Overall it is great water, and I am not sure if the rumbling was even from that, or the small amounts of chlorine in the municipal water that comes from a well. I am taking the precaution to boil the water, and am always thankful when I can find a good spring, considering all of the things added to water these days. We usually fill our jugs with reverse osmosis water that can be found at a variety of health stores, and even at some Walmart stores. The downside is that there isn't one in every town, and you are relying on the store itself to change out the filters when they are supposed to. I recently discovered one study that found 1 out of 15 water refill stations in California actually had true purified water. We are now going to purchase a two gallon Berkey purifier which will get out 99.99 percent of what you don't want in your water, plus an extra set of filters that specialize in removing 95 percent of the flouride that has been added to the water.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcr7bvXp7imHyKyXMw5B_NLqeJDJTvui5cV-yPVXJIbqgDuNXYwIBPzPJ7ePCHhTT2xG3QVXNTSdgWx0Ns5If9yTSzCJ-Lz_U3rRb8KXEMN8gQ5p6Hsb3cXKVErhKYSTyma3N58zvo31w/s1600/Yosemite_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcr7bvXp7imHyKyXMw5B_NLqeJDJTvui5cV-yPVXJIbqgDuNXYwIBPzPJ7ePCHhTT2xG3QVXNTSdgWx0Ns5If9yTSzCJ-Lz_U3rRb8KXEMN8gQ5p6Hsb3cXKVErhKYSTyma3N58zvo31w/s640/Yosemite_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yosemite</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We headed into Yosemite which really lived up to my expectations as far as scenery goes. After driving around a bit we found a trail that we wanted to hike, only to find a sign that had a picture of a dog with a red Ghost Busters circle around it with a slash. We stopped to asked the rangers if there was anywhere that dogs were allowed, and the answer we got was a very abrupt "This is not a dog friendly park!" When I asked why, we were told it's because they hurt the wildlife and spread disease. I found this highly debatable, but I could not get a word in with the ranger who cut me off to preach about what a threat dogs are to wildlife. I imagine an off-leash dog may get a squirrel here and there, but I know the cars driving through get more than a few. One thing that was mentioned to us is that a lot of black bears and other animals are killed in the park by cars...and maybe an occasional off-leash yorkie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since I have already written a pretty lengthy blog so far, I am going to save my rant about all of these regulations and attempts to "preserve" our forests. I am sure I will have another opportunity later. I have never read in my cowboy stories about dudes that probably looked like an unshaven Clint Eastwood with names like Hondo having to stop and pay some snively ranger a hefty fee to ride through the trails and be told to leave their dogs behind.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Frozen lake at the top of Saddle Bag Mountain, Yosemite (It was snowing up there!).</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"> We are now in the season where we are seeing rental rvs everywhere, and crowds taking pictures of deer like they have never seen them before. As beautiful as it all is, it just makes us want to avoid the popular parks and head for the more secluded places to hike with our dogs at our side. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoDtTx3Qq0Z5WJhqDWo5-fUte_0NYwtYi7j7XkBKGI_EMXQULgc1jOKB_wv8erkaxXLrX8PNZZwLXqsW-PM27iZgrzDv563xmTruNl2CfFwAaFjLHwpVjDk5A3hjWbicimZVVPJtBTpY/s1600/James_Frankie_Fuzzy_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtoDtTx3Qq0Z5WJhqDWo5-fUte_0NYwtYi7j7XkBKGI_EMXQULgc1jOKB_wv8erkaxXLrX8PNZZwLXqsW-PM27iZgrzDv563xmTruNl2CfFwAaFjLHwpVjDk5A3hjWbicimZVVPJtBTpY/s400/James_Frankie_Fuzzy_SM.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Contemplating that mountain view</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One final note, in his seven years of age Frankie has managed to be the angel of death for one squirrel in northern Michigan a couple weeks before we left on this journey. I have add he had finally gotten the squirrel after years of being restrained from doing so by a leash. I have decided that should he ever get a fat one I would skin it and fry it up for him, and may have a little myself. I will also add that he happened to get it on a day that I woke up early and stood in the rain getting soaked for four hours at the dam in Elk Rapids, MI trying to get a salmon. When my hands were so wet and cold that I could barely move them I decided to stop. Once I was warm and dry I got the bug again and fished in the rain for three more hours for one big chinook that I spotted the day before in the Jordan River. I cast at him for three hours, almost getting him a couple of times. When I finally hooked him I got the fight I expected, but after ten minutes the tough rascal had tangled my line and my heart around a log and got away. The first thing I heard when I got back with my not-so -victorious fishing story that nobody wants to hear was, "Frankie killed a squirrel today!" I think that was one of the only moments in my life that I looked at a dog with true unbridled jealousy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">-James</span></i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1464828316057_3275" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">Not our usual Sunday post, as we're getting tossed around here and there in California trying to avoid the 100+ degree weather in most areas, as well as struggling to find parks that aren't completely booked now that</span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1464828316057_3276" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> the summer camping season has kicked in. We've already had to move 4 times in the last 2-ish weeks! After Yosemite we headed </span><span id="yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1464828316057_3277" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;">to nearby Lake Tahoe (which was much more pristine and beautiful than I expected) to spend Memorial Day:</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lake Tahoe</td></tr>
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b></div>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-57387629100563407742016-05-22T08:10:00.004-07:002016-05-22T16:43:10.692-07:00Las Vegas<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Las Vegas/Lake Mead, Nevada</td></tr>
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After a week in Vegas and two buffets that took the skills of a hedonistic olympian to conquer, my abdomen is now distended to abominable proportions. The last time I did this sort of damage to myself was years ago when Hana and I went to an asian buffet and I thought it would be fun to eat all the crab rangoon in the house. A city in the desert known for inspiring a setting aside of all inhibitions, gluttony was the sin that got the best of us. Even worst yet was a waste of food that I am not proud of at all. I can at least find some peace in the fact that there are pigs on a farm who are getting a good meal out of all the food I put on a plate and could not finish. </div>
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While another trip to Vegas was not on my bucket list, I had to humor my wife. With temperatures in the 90's without a tree to hide under, I found myself counting the days until we could head back out to the hills with plenty of shade, clear streams, and cool nights. Hana had never been out here, so she had to at least see it once. We only spent a few hours on the strip, did not gamble a dime, and worked our way through the crowds of party people to see the big visual display of various hotels and casinos that lure people in to play russian roulette with their morality as well as their bank accounts. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Vegas Strip</td></tr>
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One thing I noticed about Vegas is that the indoors and outdoors smells like someone dropped a large bottle of cologne on the entire city. Underneath the scents of synthetic vanilla and fruit, one will catch a whiff of sewage. I am also pretty sure that the rumor of oxygen being pumped into the hotels to keep one from sleeping is true, alone with the subliminal messages underneath every bad top 40 song that has been played over the radio millions of times. "I know I shouldn't, but I will" was the message of one glamorous blond woman in heavy lipstick on one of the many video advertisements. While I'm at it, can someone tell me why David Copperfield, Lionol Ritchie, and Donnie & Marie have not aged? It leads me to think that in the back dressing rooms of the stars there may be a few hidden Dorian Grey paintings. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The "Old Strip"</td></tr>
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Overwhelmed by the traffic and drunk drivers, Hana was ready to turn around and skip the strip entirely. I would not have minded, but after making the argument that I did not sit baking in the sun for a week to skip the opportunity for her to see what vanity fair was all about, she gave in. She was especially happy that I found a free parking spot. I mainly just wanted to walk off a fraction of the buffet I had earlier, and since the temperature was in the low 80's the weather was tolerable. It's a dry heat they all say, but I am one that could easily make a home inside a refrigerator and still catch a tan. </div>
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There were not many outdoor adventures this week. The dogs had a hard time with the heat, and the howling coyotes at night clued me in not to take a chance walking them too far in the evening. There was one night I heard a pack of them raise a ruckus outside our rv briefly. While Frankie would show no fear, I don't think he and I alone could do much damage to a pack of wild and hungry coyotes. We camped out on Lake Mead, which despite the heat did offer a nice view. A view that people pay a quarter million to see out the windows of their homes, while the trailer and rv people pay much less and abide closer. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view of Lake Mead from our window</td></tr>
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Hana and I surprisingly did not fight this week at all, and underneath the blinding haze of the blistering sun, it was more or less a romantic week for us. What has come over us I don't know, but we did consider even a second marriage from an Elvis Impersonator. <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif;">Being opposites in almost every way imaginable it is not always easy for us, but then again I doubt it is much different for anyone else. People may wonder if living in a small space causes a couple to fight more. That has not been the case for us, but often being on the move with long drives can be nerve wrecking, and while both of us may intend to yell at the situation, our frustration unfortunately gets taken out on one another. One challenge we have had in our marriage no matter where we have lived is having completely different beliefs and views of the world, which i will add I am not in the mainstream as ways of thinking, and doubt I will ever be, unless I should somehow be turned over to a reprobate mind. If one looks beneath the details and ticks that causes them to fight, the love that brought you together can be found. Marriages in all situations take effort, and the good things in life do not come easy.</span></div>
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Frankie and I have also been extra special buddies this week. While we always have been, he has not left my side in the evenings until it is time to be fed in the morning. It has been hard for me to practice my guitar as much as I wanted to when that little guy so full of emotions looks at me with a sort of wide eyed droopy look on his face. I am thinking he likes the warmer weather just like his mommy, and like her during the cooler weather, he will hide under a pile of blankets. During the warmer weather he will usually hang out with me all night, and sleep under my chin. I cannot thank God enough for these dogs we have, for both him and maya have blessed both of our lives in immeasurable ways.</div>
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One thing I can appreciate being nearer to larger cities is the access to a variety of grocery stores. But the traffic and crowds dull my sense of peace. Next week we will be headed for California, and will work our way up to Eugene, Oregon where we will take a rest for a few weeks. I stocked up on organic apples and such, and am ready for the mountains again. If the options are to deal with a crowd of people, or a few bears and other wild animals, I will take the animals. I am also hoping to burn off some of this extra baggage while I am at it, expecting the next few hikes to feel like someone dropped a ten pound dumbell in my backpack. Off to the Yosemite National forest we go where my soul and digestive system will get a much needed break. </div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b><br />
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-92014866075918431792016-05-15T09:49:00.000-07:002016-05-15T09:49:53.389-07:00Arizona<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: The Grand Canyon and Prescott, Arizona</td></tr>
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Rolling into the Grand Canyon after another long 7 hour drive left us both exhausted. Like mini-mental-break-down-I-can't-do-this-anymore exhausted. Frankie even walked out of the RV to sit in the grass with his back to us just before we left Colorado, as if to say "nooo, not again".<br />
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This was a great time for a much needed 'vacation' and my first week off in a longer than I can remember. Thank you to Bob, Edit, and Gabe for meeting us in Prescott and showing us a great time! Now refreshed, we are ready to hit the road again for Vegas.<br />
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<b><i>-Hana</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picturesque scenery along our drive from Durango to the Grand Canyon</td></tr>
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At this point in the trip I can say I am less afraid of death than I was before. I have come across snakes and mountain lions. I have been on a helicopter ride over Sedona, and rode passenger in Bob's Corvette as he ripped through the winding roads of the Prescott National Forest. I have overcome motion sickness sickness twice this week. All joking set aside, it has been an action packed week for us thanks to Uncle Bob who was generous enough to send us on a helicopter ride that we would have not otherwise gone on, as well as take us to several restuarants in town. </div>
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While we were in Durango The cowboy story I was reading, Shalako, coincidentally happened to mention Animas Valley, which was exactly where we were. While we have been in Prescott a section of the story I am reading now, Tucker, mentions the town, along with Gurley St. Going through these now modernized towns where the cowboys and wranglers have been replaced with a different kind of folks, I like to strip away all of the cars and concrete and imagine dusty roads, horses, and spurs while trying to draw a historical picture in my mind of what these places were like in those times. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpl4UNpE9daLFe7WQnHDc47uwPWDBZ5Fx7FV6c-6kadoro0TwcCie1R9cYus6IWF-dX1BK0Vozkzsg_O-aGIc3-Gyaco7W4AgIE80K5skZxxwU47RPOrmlPKsB0qsRmZzVDXXmaFqN0Pg/s1600/JamesMaya_GrandCanyon_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpl4UNpE9daLFe7WQnHDc47uwPWDBZ5Fx7FV6c-6kadoro0TwcCie1R9cYus6IWF-dX1BK0Vozkzsg_O-aGIc3-Gyaco7W4AgIE80K5skZxxwU47RPOrmlPKsB0qsRmZzVDXXmaFqN0Pg/s400/JamesMaya_GrandCanyon_SM.jpg" width="315" /></a> We didn't have much to report for our week in Durango since we had a bit of a lazy week. We took a scenic drive down the million dollar highway to Silverton, and old mining town that has been the set for a few Western movies, but when we got there everything was closed until later in the month. It looked like a charming town, and I regretted that we weren't able to see it when it was the season since they have daily gunfights in the street. The mountains surrounding were beautiful, but the snow was still a bit too deep on the trails for a good hike. We decided that later in the trip we will return to the northern part of Colorado. Durango is still a nice little town full of good restaurants where you can get grass fed beef hamburgers without all of the added hormones and other chemicals which are still at this point illegal in other countries.</div>
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After Durango we had a long hike to the Grand Canyon National Park. I found myself getting hypnotized by the desert, and had to drink a lot of coffee to keep me awake. While we have all seen a million postcard-like photos of the Grand Canyon, it is still one of those things that is still breathtaking to see. I had not seen it since a family trip when I was twelve years old, and tried to see what I could remember of it from that time. A beautiful day of walking along the rim was sufficient. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"King of the World!"</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">From that point we headed down to Prescott, AZ to visit Hana's Uncle Bob and Aunt Edit. Bob did his best to plan out as many activities as he could for us so we could get the most out of our visit. They were also hospitable enough to let us stay with them, and it was a hard to refuse offer since we were in one of our least favorite RV parks that we had thus far rolled the coach into. The speed bumps were large enough to slow down a pack of wild horses, and the 5mph speed limit signs were laughable since the roads were narrow, winding, and full of pot holes.</span></div>
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What made it unpleasant for us wasn't that it is mostly filled with permanent residents, but that we were packed pretty tight, with our neighbor's door directly adjacent to and facing ours. We felt weird about it, our neighbors felt weird about it, and probably everyone else that parks their rv in those spots feels weird about it. You would not think this makes much of a difference until you get in the situation. When they all face the same way, people don't notice each other as much, even if they are packed closer. As for this one, we were packed tight and a little too close for comfort. The people that were next to us for the first couple of nights were friendly, and they longed for their own space just as much as we did. </div>
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Our campground was next to Willow Lake, which looked very small to us at first when we went to hike around it. Half of the lake was dried up, and we thought it would be a short hike. I was thinking it was too short of a walk for me to even burn off some of the fried catfish and french fries from the southeast that I still seem to be carrying around. At first the lake looked so small that we thought we would hear a pair of ladies who were having on of those walks where they like to "vent" loudly the entire time. After we completeted the first couple of miles and saw our location on a map, we realized we still had miles to go which would not have been a problem if it wasn't going to get dark soon. Once we got into the rocky area we had to follow a line of white dots that were painted on the sandy colored rocks, a line that was easily getting obscured as it got dark. We pressed forward as the air got thicker with bugs until we came upon a trail that led right to the back of our rv park, which ended up being much bigger than we thought. As we found our way back to our rv a drunk man had slurred a pot of words together that we didn't understand, followed by a strange laugh to a joke that only he was able to understand.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAeBqsACFwJsooWa8ebajrYF0TgAfMb-k9z4IJo-98wBQ4gwmThsWTIl5LkROmTXM6k73y6dqykWTUrwjHKVOYL_hT2fuW6_wLQH0p597IvspyF9MyB1PTnSzKKPdGvkaynnON2jO5V4/s1600/13221736_10208188545784809_1663600601527415725_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAeBqsACFwJsooWa8ebajrYF0TgAfMb-k9z4IJo-98wBQ4gwmThsWTIl5LkROmTXM6k73y6dqykWTUrwjHKVOYL_hT2fuW6_wLQH0p597IvspyF9MyB1PTnSzKKPdGvkaynnON2jO5V4/s400/13221736_10208188545784809_1663600601527415725_n.jpg" width="400" /></a> Being one that is not a fan of hot weather, Arizona was never really on my bucket list, although I have heard about Sedona and was always curious to see what the hype was about. With it being less than two hours away, Uncle Bob had treated us to a helicopter ride where we could get a good glimpse of the part of Sedona we would not have seen on foot. While I thought I didn't care much for hieghts, especially in a tiny helicopter, I decided I could easily work my way past all of that and keep calm while enjoying the view.</div>
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We ate at a variety of restaurants including western, japanese, and indian. Bob had mentioned an excellent guitar player who played at the indian restaurant. When we got there the guitar player was packing it up early since it was a slow evening. We were able to convince him to play a few more songs. He was able to execute a variety of styles with ease, including ragtime and country. I never thought I would hear an old indian gentleman play and sing the highwaymen or Johnny Cash so well. As he saw our appreciation he continued to play longer than planned and took requests. I was also able to have some guitar talk with him, as I have taken up the guitar again the past few months after setting it down for twenty something years. After giving me a few tips he handed me his guitar, along with the custom pick he made and urged me to play it, which is something professional guitar players never do. </div>
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It was an action packed week, but we also had time to relax. Aunt Edit and cousin Gabe arrived on Friday, and I was happy to get to know the both of them better as I have not seen a whole lot of them since Hana and I have been married, and when I did it was always at family events where there were a lot of people. It was good to be able to spend time with them on a smaller scale. On Saturday we went to a Scottish festival at Watson Lake park where men an women heaved and hoed heavy objects and several bagpipe players marched around playing Amazing Grace, along with other traditional tunes. At night we grilled some chicken and fish and had a wonderful meal. After dinner, since the evening wasn't as windy as expected we were able to have a bon voyage bonfire and tell some stories, which was an excellent way to say goodbye.</div>
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Now we are off to Vegas for possibly a week, but since it will be hot and we will be camped in a place that does not offer a single tree for shade, we may be heading to Utah in the middle of the week.</div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"RVs of Walmart". Spotted in a Walmart parking lot, this Trans Van from the 1970s appears to still be running! James said his grandparents had the same model back in the day. We found ourselves wondering how you would survive the Arizona heat in parking lot with no electricity!</td></tr>
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<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-16353001502631721242016-05-01T08:04:00.002-07:002016-05-02T06:40:48.439-07:00New Mexico<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJYU5jWfDFboXr-lVG4RQtNjz4caK1ueMFHvDsOxszTEy1yojcjxw5wERJwtIKo_9NzJkVRWqwe3I3WLicpCA2kxijAQSx9ibY1AsMYQ4b91NRnt8ywvPWZb1c-9Xa84YRx0WLrKTs5o/s1600/USMap_NM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOJYU5jWfDFboXr-lVG4RQtNjz4caK1ueMFHvDsOxszTEy1yojcjxw5wERJwtIKo_9NzJkVRWqwe3I3WLicpCA2kxijAQSx9ibY1AsMYQ4b91NRnt8ywvPWZb1c-9Xa84YRx0WLrKTs5o/s1600/USMap_NM.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Taos, New Mexico</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh3bPnlGAD-9NH4yMln1P3rRTGx0rXFKLe52YNithKFZ6CT2R_wqCgrk0Bci4eHbaq-4zsH1lMTQ5ReNu_ClJ59i-wXPNgVajvRdaiAIKs8IuHeLlHQu2rW-Xu38LAAmUqyPb504Yu7s/s1600/RV_inTheMountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh3bPnlGAD-9NH4yMln1P3rRTGx0rXFKLe52YNithKFZ6CT2R_wqCgrk0Bci4eHbaq-4zsH1lMTQ5ReNu_ClJ59i-wXPNgVajvRdaiAIKs8IuHeLlHQu2rW-Xu38LAAmUqyPb504Yu7s/s320/RV_inTheMountains.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I have to say folks that Taos, New Mexico has captured my heart. As they say, first impressions are always the most important, when we drove into the Carson National Forest that surrounds the town I fell in love. Being from Michigan I always loved the snow, but have to admit that I did miss being outdoors when the temperatures got so low that it was unpleasant to even walk to your car. We have not seen snow since last winter, until we drove in to Taos. As we were getting closer to the town we could see that the mountains were snow capped, and as we gradually got deeper into the mountains what we came across was nothing less than a winter fairy tale land. Words nor pictures could do no justice to the sights we saw overlooking the deep caverns. It felt like we were in one big snow globe with mountains. That next morning we woke up to snow, which was a pleasant surprise. Our campground was in a huge mesa surrounded by mountains on every side.</span><br />
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Taos is a small town that is almost 100 percent adobe. Even the Mcdonalds is adobe. It is small, but not too small, full of tucked away shops. It's a laid back sort of place where you can walk around without feeling judged. There is plenty of organic produce, and a lot of good small restaurants. </div>
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We stayed here for two weeks, more by my request. While I found the weather to be pleasant with warm days and cold nights (great sleeping weather for me), Hana will say it was too cold. I spent the first week exploring different fishing options in the area, but since the fish ran thin in the streams I found, most of the trout were in stocked areas. i was grateful to at least stock up the freezer a bit with some more trout since it is a good eating fish. I am starting to lose the heart to keep any large catfish or bass anymore, and mainly want to just catch bass for fun. However, should I catch a large lake trout or salmon, I will thank the Lord for the catch and the fish for his life before I put him on the grill.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXejYhOTx77tLjvCEgedPrF_ZjAKayJDqO64_iB_RW6cv7oJfVEK5RaR-Jb-tZuFZ2Sxg9rFpJkBId0g82I2uXDjD512_9urjBu9KoL6SIW5zy1XliwY_zQW8f7izOwW_MWPSkZaE8C8U/s1600/NM_Mountain_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXejYhOTx77tLjvCEgedPrF_ZjAKayJDqO64_iB_RW6cv7oJfVEK5RaR-Jb-tZuFZ2Sxg9rFpJkBId0g82I2uXDjD512_9urjBu9KoL6SIW5zy1XliwY_zQW8f7izOwW_MWPSkZaE8C8U/s640/NM_Mountain_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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I did make one friend while fishing that was in pretty rough shape. He had lung cancer, and by the looks of his skin he wasn't doing well at all. He wasn't going for chemo, which was a plus, but he continued to smoke quite a bit and drink. I am not saying this to condemn him, but stating it only because while I believe we have a purpose in a lot of interactions with people, mine with him was not to tell him how to get well as much as it was to just be a friend to him. He was visiting from Texas, but he had spent many years in the area, and was visiting because the area brought him a lot of peace in his soul. For three days we had a good time fishing together before he went back.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tired pups after a long mountain hike</td></tr>
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The second week I didn't feel like chasing the fish around anymore, so I spent more time with the dogs hiking through the forest. The trails were mostly uphill, and on some there were a lot of streams to cross. Frankie and I hiked pretty deep into one, and as we got pretty high up I heard a mountain lion from behind the trees. It wasn't a very friendly growl either. We had less than a quarter mile to where we would get to see some falls, but I really did not feel like relying on the kindness of that lion's heart. Instinctively I knew not to move to fast as to put him in predator mode, nor did I want to send any fear signals. Frankie and I just turned around and moved back down at a steady pace. Frankie who usually tugs and stops you every few feet did not waste anymore time. I never saw the lion, but as we worked our way down the hill I did hear some movement and another growl, so I know we were stalked for a while. The only other wildlife I ran into with the dogs was a huge coyote who was 100 yards ahead of us on the mesa over looking the Rio Grande. At first I mistook him for a large wolf, but<br />
my friend Buck informed me that it was just a fat<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_961rwjCKIjGA0dM-p3-bDNfDNb8xPgrQ6UTqiwK8obhCKupwWwMLif2L-a1NL-mGnshtmfNVL63Lv8-jbD5i75ZdwZl4XvaRXd5vbujIZppaELC0MZrrhDU5GKjNsGUlF4HoY7PCpPw/s1600/Maya_InTheSnow_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_961rwjCKIjGA0dM-p3-bDNfDNb8xPgrQ6UTqiwK8obhCKupwWwMLif2L-a1NL-mGnshtmfNVL63Lv8-jbD5i75ZdwZl4XvaRXd5vbujIZppaELC0MZrrhDU5GKjNsGUlF4HoY7PCpPw/s640/Maya_InTheSnow_SM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maya loves the snow!</td></tr>
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I don't know what it was about Taos, but I will be leaving it with a bit of sadness in my heart. I can see why New Mexico is called the Land of Enchantment. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rio Grande</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqX90t58YHB5diT6w4XFewQ6XeMkRYu84zD_AQX2ssbMbWRKhkdUObMw9UOSc20TmB_2POSaqYQb2oaX6QIAH1VxnCtmngNZ-sTSLPg9omvwDN8NVW3aja4swmyqJ6agcWPsZTHV8bBbo/s1600/Earthships.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="472" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqX90t58YHB5diT6w4XFewQ6XeMkRYu84zD_AQX2ssbMbWRKhkdUObMw9UOSc20TmB_2POSaqYQb2oaX6QIAH1VxnCtmngNZ-sTSLPg9omvwDN8NVW3aja4swmyqJ6agcWPsZTHV8bBbo/s640/Earthships.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taos Earthship community, something we'd been looking forward to seeing for a while!</td></tr>
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Six months into the trip and we have found that we are comfortable in the rv, but there are things we would modify. The kitchen sink is small, and it is hard not to splash water around since we installed a taller faucet. The counter space is also pretty tight, but we manage. The only other place that feels small to me is the bathroom sink. It is hard to brush your teeth without splashing water because you almost have to put your head right up against the mirror which is hovering over the sink. Hana probably has an easier time because she is not as big, nor as sloppy as me. The hot water tank is only five gallons, and on a cold night when you want to warm up the shower, it can go by pretty fast. On warmer days it doesn't seem that bad. You just learn little tricks to get the tasks done that you need to. </div>
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The bed is small, but we seem to manage pretty good, even with the dogs in the bed. We like to sleep close with the dogs anyway, but sometimes when Maya wants to stretch out I have to get creative with my sleeping position.</div>
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The rv handles pretty good, but gets blown around easily on windy days. Also when we are going uphill, even if it is a steady incline, it is hard to get above 60 without pushing it too hard while towing the car. I usually don't want to push it too hard, and take it a bit slower anyway. </div>
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We have learned that you don't eat less on the road like we thought we would. I imagined the pounds would just melt off, but after all the uphill climbing we do I find that I went from having the appetite of two people to three or four. The pounds have not melted off as I expected. We also have to try new restaurants when we get into a town that looks promising. And then let's not talk about the bakeries. </div>
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We learned that retirees make great neighbors. They are quiet, in early, and often like to help. </div>
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We have also been around a lot more wild animals than I imagined. Hiking in Michigan I never had to think about lions or bears. The only lions anybody talks about in Metro Detroit are the ones that consistently lose. I never thought I would see a pack of wild boar, come face to face with a copperhead, or be stalked by a mountain lion. I could not even get used to walking past an eight foot alligator in South Carolina.</div>
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While state parks can be pretty, they are usually in small towns that have few options for groceries, especially if you like to get some things organic. A lot of the parks can also be small, so there aren't as many hiking options as when you are near a bigger forest. The seclusion during the week is nice, but state parks can also get busy on the weekends with families taking a two-day getaway. It is always a trade off whatever you do. While rv parks have the full hookups, they can be expensive, and sometimes a bit hoaky with their Wally World type themes. They also don't have the seclusion that you can get at a state park, nor are you able to start many fires. This past one at Taos was small, and nice. We had a view from every angle you turn, the owners were nice, and the grounds were kept up well without someone spraying chemicals all over the place all the time. I was even able to give a man from Texas a haircut. </div>
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We are learning as we go, and for now just enjoying the ride. There are a few bumps in the road, but overall it has been a great way to live. We have ideas, but we still have a lot of room for discovery. </div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-46226464108556566762016-04-17T08:42:00.003-07:002016-04-17T08:42:40.428-07:00Texas, Round 2<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Amarillo</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cadillac Ranch</td></tr>
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Well folks, It was pointed out to me by my wife that I sound like I either hate a place, or I love it in this blog, and I am going to have to admit that it is probably accurate. However, as for Amarillo, I am going to say it was a town I liked, and neither did love or hate. For the most part I would say it was a town worth stopping in. </div>
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As for the park we stayed at,<b> Fort Amarillo RV Park</b>, we pretty much felt duped in the beginning, but like most places, you settle in by the second day and before you know it it is time to move. Most of the amenities that the pak promised on the website were out of order, and looked like they had been out of order for a long time. I was disappointed that the hot tub was not working, nor did it look like it had been for a while, and the weirdly carpeted pool area sort of turned me off from having much to do with the wet room at all. I will also add that a good 80 percent of the exercise equipment either did not work, or worked so poorly that you would be risking injury using it. We made the best of it. It just seems that they put the money they make into the nice store they have in front, and have procrastinated fixing most of the out of order park, including the dog runs which were all taped off. </div>
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We were right behind a Gander Mountain, which was not our usual outdoor setting, but I was able to pick up a good pair of hiking boots made by Gander Mountain, and some of the staff members were exceptionally helpful. It is hard to find the right pair of hiking boots. For a few days I tried on several pair, all having pros and cons, weighing out style and practicality. Since I wear shoes out fast, I needed something comfortable with a tough sole and good arch support. The most stylish ones were lacking in those departments, but yet I did not want to look like a gore tex warrior in the ones that did have those qualities. Finally after three days of running the staff back and forth I found a halfway decent pair that doesn't look too bad and seems durable. I also found that Gander Mountain is a lot more reasonably priced that some of the other big outdoor stores. </div>
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We were two miles from a store called <b>Natural Grocers</b>, which was a blessing to find since we usually have no choice but do most of our grocery shopping at Walmart. I was also surprised at how reasonable there prices were for a small, independent store. I would also say almost everything in there was organic, and priced the same as what is conventional for most things. I went to this place daily.</div>
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Another place I went to frequently that was responsible for me not losing weight this week was <b>Frank's Bakery</b>. If you are ever in Amarillo, bring lots of cash with you as they do not accept credit card, buy one of everything without thinking, and don't look back. We have found that it is impossible these days to find a good loaf of bread in a lot of towns, let alone good pastries. The bread from grocery stores has a billion ingredients, half of which you would have to be a chemist to understand what it is or what it does to your body. I have made lots of bread in my life, and have found that you can make a good loaf of bread with just flour, yeast, water,a little salt, and lots of love. Frank's hands down competed, if not beat most bakeries I had been to when I stayed in Italy for a few months. They were tied with a couple of the bakeries in Sicily. Since they are from France they seem to take the quality seriously, but they did not do anything extraordinarily fancy. The bread was crusty on the outside and soft on the inside just how you want it with the slight taste of fermentation that comes from the dough rising at the right temperatures for the right amount of time. The pastries were made with a light and flakey croissant dough that felt like a cloud escaped the sky and landed in your mouth. The fillings were made with real fruit, not some sweet, gelled stuff from a can. Although Hana gained absolutely no weight, I am pretty sure even with all of the exercise that I may have only put on a couple of pounds. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Big Texan Steak House</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">The most well known restaurant in Amarillo is the <b>The</b> <b>Big Texan</b>, where you can sit on a stage and eat a 72 oz steak for free as long as you finish it, along with the added salad, a baked potato, and 3 fried shrimp. If there was ever a restaurant that encouraged unbridled gluttony I would have to vote the Big Texan hands down, not only because the portions are the size of Texas itself, but also the fact that everything in there is homemade and tastes so good you can't stop eating. No funky franchise flavored cardboard here folks. Real potato salad, cowboy beans, dressings, bbq sauce and much, much more made from scratch. We have all heard a mother, grandmother, or aunt say "save room for desert" many times in our lives. My advise to you is to go for the desert because it is all good. They even make their own fudge, cookies, and brownies. For the first half of the week I contemplated having my fifteen minutes of fame Cool Hand Luke style up there on that stage below the giant Longhorn Skull with glowing eyes, but I am not sure what I feared more, the discomfort of what it would do to my digestive track, or the anger of Hana when we had to pay 72 dollars for a steak I couldn't finish. That's the gamble, a dollar an ounce. Somewhere around 55,000 have attempted this feat, and only in the ballpark of 9,000 have been successful. Nonetheless, I say by all means do not overlook this place because it looks like a tourist trap. The bbq sauce was so good, I left wishing I could get a big tub of it so I could put it on everything, including ice cream. </span><div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Palo Duro Canyon State Park</td></tr>
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As for the outdoors we discovered the Palo Duro Canyon, which takes second place in size to the Grand Canyon. We had a good hike around the park through the trails, and fortunately did not see any snakes, although we did hear one in the brush. It was great to get out into some beautiful scenery after spending most of the week camped next to a busy highway. Maya was a trooper and stuck out the six mile hike we went on, and she got a well deserved bath in the river after. Today she was so worn out she just slept. She has been seeming like she doesn't want to walk too much most days lately. We even took turns to pick her up and carry her on one walk. As she is getting up there in age we are contemplating getting her a dog stroller so she doesn't have to be left out on long walks.</div>
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Overall folks here in Amarillo have been pretty nice. I would say it is worth a few days here if you like to take your time with activities, and need a town to do some shopping in. </div>
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Since we are six months into the journey I will have a post coming soon summarizing some things we have learned along the way about living and traveling in an rv, what we like and don't like as far as where we have camped, along with some of what we have learned about ourselves. I have to say to any rv people contemplating doing this, not to over think it and just go for it, but don't have overly high expectations. Life isn't a bowl of cherries every day no matter what you are doing or where you are going in this mortal life, so I am not going to say everyday is "living the dream" to quote the overused phrase. It is just living life, but seeing a lot of beautiful places and making a few friends you would not have made otherwise along the way. Hana and I both agree that we don't want to go back to conventional life anytime soon. Speaking for Frankie and Maya, I would say they don't want to anytime soon either.</div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The<b> Jack Sisemore Traveland RV Museum</b>. An awesome museum we visited, full of vintage RVs and campers that were restored by the Traveland crew. The camper I'm standing in front of was purchased from an 85 year old lady at a gas station, and took 2 years to completely strip and renovate. The process is documented in a photo album, all of which I found very interesting!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy Max RV, featured in the movie "RV" with Robin Williams. Beautiful!</td></tr>
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I keep checking and re-checking the weather forecast in Taos, hoping it will change. It looks like we're in for several freezing or below freezing nights next week. (How is it colder in New Mexico than Michigan btw!?!) We are also heading into another time zone, which means I'll be waking up bright and early at 5am for work on Eastern time :'( . Yay!<br />
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<i><b>-Hana</b></i></div>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-10184321017710728422016-04-10T08:09:00.000-07:002016-04-11T06:52:07.090-07:00Oklahoma<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">Destination: Medicine Park, Oklahoma</td></tr>
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Wow, he had zero expectations for Oklahoma, but this area in the southwest is absolutely beautiful! Home to <b>Wichita Mountains Wildlife Reserve</b>, which is definitely one of the best national parks/reserves we have been to so far. Tons of hiking trails, and guess what? Dogs are allowed!! I would highly recommend it to anyone passing through.</div>
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<b>-Hana</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild longhorns</td></tr>
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<span id="yiv1059332183yui_3_16_0_ym19_1_1460297618870_3947" style="-webkit-padding-start: 0px;"> </span>We didn't know what to expect from Oklahoma, but got more than we thought we would. We stayed outside of<b> Lawton, OK</b>, which we only went to for groceries. We were across the street from the <b>Wichitaw Wildlife Reserve</b> with a beautiful view of <b>Lake Lawtonka</b> and the mountains. From the tops of the mountains you can really see how flat everything else is. </div>
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We saw plenty of wild buffalo and longhorns. Often they can be found crossing the street, and you just have to slow down and let them cross. They don't impose an immediate threat unless you get too close to them. On one hike we came across around 30 of them next to the path and we just kept our distance. I do have to say I was scared when I came within a few feet of a copperhead that was on the trail. He blended in to the sand, and almost looked like a stick in the path until I stopped and looked at him closer. From what I am learning about snakes, the ones you <i>don't</i> see are the most dangerous because you can easily step on it, or be in it's zone where it would feel threatened.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wild buffalo</td></tr>
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The Reserve for the most part is beautiful, and you just never know what awaits you around the corner on a hiking path. There are a lot of paths of different levels. Most are very rocky, and some are very steep. There are also some moderately level paths too. We came across some really scenic lakes and creeks that ran across large stones. It is a very peaceful place, and if you are hardcore into hiking you will get your exercise. There are also a lot of half mile to two mile paths. Mountain bikers also flock to a couple of the paths in one area on the outer edge of the reserve. I also have to mention that the military owns a large part of the land next to the reserve. There was one day hiking that I heard quite a few booms and lots of jets tearing through the air. </div>
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This week has also been exceptionally windy, more windy than anywhere I have ever been. I am not sure if it is just the way it is here, or just wind storms coming through. For the most part the days have been warm and the nights have been cool enough for me to sleep comfortably. I sleep best when the room feels like an ice cooler, and if anyone knows my wife they will know that she will be under an electric blanket while I am next to an open window. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.960000038146973px; text-align: center;">Almost blew right off the top of the mountain!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wichita National Wildlife Refuge</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Downtown Medicine Park - sculpture</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Medicine Park - shopping</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> In our week here there hasn't been much socializing or meeting people. I did talk to one guy fishing who gave me a generous amount of shad he collected earlier in the day, a catfish, and a few crappie. There is a small cobblestone community called <b>Medicine Park</b> that has a stocked creek. Most stores are only open on the weekends or just make their own hours. I was never able to go in the bait shop because it was always closed. I also was looking forward to the bakery in town which was always closed. The one day I went in when it was open you had a choice of either four muffins or a brownie. That was about all she was selling. There was, however, a shop which sold cigar box guitars which is something I recently discovered and am considering making. There are two guys who make them in the town. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif;"> Ticks have been an issue since we have been on the road. We have been pulling them off the dogs as well as ourselves. I have found them in places you don't want to find them on my own body. They seem to like me more than Hana. This week I alone I have found five, and have bites in other places!</span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Downtown Medicine Park - riverfront<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgxRNVXeggND1ZMUSq1eS2-eOOtXxTNpZAGDzs9zaujgjq2toMuCZfGNp50vNvZkbTwF-yC998TD_FnfRlvzF2RdLzA6mmjPqT_S0s3h2dswfvfT9nLw5mH8-TM3_MoRsO6fyBaeHqBg/s1600/FrankieStairs_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgxRNVXeggND1ZMUSq1eS2-eOOtXxTNpZAGDzs9zaujgjq2toMuCZfGNp50vNvZkbTwF-yC998TD_FnfRlvzF2RdLzA6mmjPqT_S0s3h2dswfvfT9nLw5mH8-TM3_MoRsO6fyBaeHqBg/s640/FrankieStairs_SM.jpg" width="425" /></a></div>
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Frankie-Rock-Climber</div>
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We haven't been to the dentist since being on the road, not that I went that regularly before. I always hated going to the dentist. Nonetheless, I have gotten into the habit of oil pulling. My teeth were stained from coffee, and I want to keep any potential infections at a minimum. I have also read that it has a lot of other health benefits as well. All you do is get a teaspoon of any type oil, I usually use coconut or olive oil, and vigorously swish it in your mouth for 20 minutes then spit it out. After three months I can tell you not only are most of the coffee stains gone, but my teeth are whiter than they ever were after a cleaning. This has saved us a fortune from having to get the under the gum scraping that dentists recommend. </div>
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I am now becoming active on RV forums, such as the <a href="http://www.rv.net/" target="_blank">Good Sam Forum</a>. People on the forums are very helpful and more than willing to give any advice or feedback, which is greatly appreciated. It's definitely a good resource for travelers and full timers!</div>
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So far most RV parks we have been to are more or less filled with permanent locals, and are located on busy roads. We have been going to these mainly for the full hookups because it was a pain to run out of water every other day, and have to move the RV every day to drain the grey tank. You would have to shower less and not wash dishes often or very well to stretch your supply and grey tank storage. It takes an average of 15 or more minutes just to level the vehicle in most places, so moving it a few times a week in the beginning was taking up too much time. We aren't expecting perfection, and still the pros far outweigh the cons. I am finding it just takes a while to find what suits you best. Also, in the places where the people are more permanent there isn't as much socializing with your neighbors as there is in places where there are more travelers, or people camping for the weekend. Like everything, life is full of trial and error, and overall it is the journey which we most enjoy. </div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>-James</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Weird RV of the Week:</span></h2>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitowTbZT_KMpbYDa7KBSmUFgi1bm-xhgEp_JoJleR2kLNR3TwM2buauBpSGkNnu4FwUsA_f4_t2ln9IjqzANK1G6JqZtoiEZCxW6ra8vaBMtQEqGfW9n6jALU4i-d_fyiVdeh4Un3xUY/s1600/CityBus_RV.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgitowTbZT_KMpbYDa7KBSmUFgi1bm-xhgEp_JoJleR2kLNR3TwM2buauBpSGkNnu4FwUsA_f4_t2ln9IjqzANK1G6JqZtoiEZCxW6ra8vaBMtQEqGfW9n6jALU4i-d_fyiVdeh4Un3xUY/s640/CityBus_RV.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, this is an actual double length city bus converted into a home on wheels!</td></tr>
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<b>Next stop, Amarillo!</b></div>
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<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-3546468547611154762016-04-03T14:34:00.002-07:002016-04-03T16:58:03.520-07:00Texas<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoY8SNy2NmGMpeBMo12wmneppXOmlmANhy5XvIsLDYD5d0LWrGHf_EX4drEEAqHmLmyH8KDI8N5QJQ_0mHJjt9BeLeZJWJyq1zN4pmkEhRWlKnXHll5HkfGGa4ImfvLTfuCe4wYvOlcY/s1600/USMap_TX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpoY8SNy2NmGMpeBMo12wmneppXOmlmANhy5XvIsLDYD5d0LWrGHf_EX4drEEAqHmLmyH8KDI8N5QJQ_0mHJjt9BeLeZJWJyq1zN4pmkEhRWlKnXHll5HkfGGa4ImfvLTfuCe4wYvOlcY/s400/USMap_TX.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Daingerfield State Park and Dallas, Texas</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Small town Texas</td></tr>
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In the 1880's traveling through this part of the country one would have to be on the lookout for bandits and comanches. Another concern would be how much water is in your canteen. Your senses would be much sharper as you would look and listen for any movement of anyone that could be quietly stalking you. These days as a modern pioneer it's men in uniform looking to make extra revenue, tattletales, and people who just don't like the looks of you that you have to look out for. Also rather than having a long ride in a bumpy, wooden coach we now have a built for comfort coach with all modern conveniences. </div>
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Daingerfield was our first stop. I was happy to learn that in Texas if you are going to fish a private pond or a lake in a state part you don't need a fishing license. We were camped right on a lake full of weeds and lily pads around the edges which meant Bass, along with a few lost rigs. We took the dogs for a walk when a very big man that was staying in a cabin with his family asked us about Maya. He told us how they had a dog that was 160 pounds. He was getting ready to take his boys out night fishing. There weren't many people camped out since it was a sunday night, so we pretty much had a lot of peace and quiet. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A dark and stormy night</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: inherit;"> Lonnie, the large guy from the cabin showed up to fish the next day, and joined me in conversation. Lonnie was arrested for robbery with a knife when he was a teenager, and spent most of his early twenties in prison. He told us how he found God two years before he got out, enlightened us on some of the corruption in the prison system, and about his struggles to get by with his family now. He had a positive hopeful spirit and a desire to learn. At around midnight we called it quits, leaving the pier with the feeling that we made some sincere friends, even if you only know them for a few hours.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mist over lake Dainger</td></tr>
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One thing that gave me a chuckle about Lonnie was not that he was such a big dude with a hundred and sixty pound dog, but what seemed small to him. He caught a few seven pound catfish the night before, but to him those fish were small. Fishing with him earlier in the day a guy caught a ten inch crappie, to which Lonnie commented, "Looks like you got a good fish for cut bait. He claims that where he lives near Cooper Lake that they are pulling thirty pound catfish out of the water. But along with it all I could tell that Lonnie was a guy with a big heart. He was working two jobs in two different towns to support his family, and like a lot of people struggling to get by. From talking to him I could tell he was a person in search of truth, and looking to better himself in any way that he could. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9CwPV3FPDwq8ek-IJv77YTUoQwcF3XSg8n5WYlklFFJA5LfZ_oY4z18DtDIrN9KccN9lDWTK5i-TE7eOSW8BYntwPHlJCYj-qBld7TWVHyBn9IxzdWU1c27n-2vhOKZMTb6-GGrD4ws/s1600/James_Bass_TX.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY9CwPV3FPDwq8ek-IJv77YTUoQwcF3XSg8n5WYlklFFJA5LfZ_oY4z18DtDIrN9KccN9lDWTK5i-TE7eOSW8BYntwPHlJCYj-qBld7TWVHyBn9IxzdWU1c27n-2vhOKZMTb6-GGrD4ws/s320/James_Bass_TX.jpg" width="268" /></a> The fishing was slow most of the week, but one sunny day I thought I would give it a shot. A guy in his mid twenties joined me. He gave me a brush hog, which is pretty much a rubber lizard. I caught two large bass on that brush hog, and put them on my stringer. Nearby there was a family group fishing with worms and bobbers, and the kids were having the time of their life pulling these little two inch bait fish out of the water. One of the father's seemed more exited than the kids, "Hurry up and yank it Tucker!" I remembered when I was young how exiting it was for me to catch bluegill on a stick with some line and a hook someone gave me, so I am not going to downplay any of the joy someone could get even from the smallest fish. I just don't think you need to pull a monster out of the water to enjoy fishing. Nonetheless, the kids saw my bass and marvelled. Later the guy's wife commented on the size of my fish when the sourpuss had to say, "Those are barely legal!" I had a laugh to myself, let him know they were well over the 14 inch limit. His response was, "what are they....15 or 16 inches?"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maya enjoying her bass dinner.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: inherit;">Like I said, it is not the spirit of a true </span>fisherman to try and wreck how anyone feels about their catch. My fishing buddy told me they were more than likely yuppies from Dallas, and two days in a state park cabin was a big outdoor adventure for them. I didn't let it wreck my joy, and I gave one of the fish to my friend that had given me the brush hog. If a person is in a place that they need to attempt to wreck someone's happiness because they accomplished something, then they are doing <i>themselves</i> the most disservice. We all have days we get skunked in life in one department or another, if sometimes not all, and we all have days that just feel like it was our day. That's just the way it goes. If we see a neighbor have his day, we just wish him the best and be grateful for what we have. </div>
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We dropped into the Dallas area for a day and found some good mexican food. I was still hungry so I headed into the smokehouse next door and got a pulled pork sandwich which was worth the four dollars. Today on the way out of Texas we stopped at a roadside place run by an older woman that had jerky, fried pies, fudge, brisket, smoked cheese, and antiques. We got a little of everything, and I have to say the brisket was as good as it smelled. Even Hana commented that it smelled good, and she doesn't eat much meat outside of fish once and a while. We are going to spend a week in Oaklahoma and then go back through Texas next week, so we will have more about the Texas experience later. </div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-13111998823502323232016-03-27T07:37:00.003-07:002016-03-27T07:37:34.351-07:00Mississippi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Clarko State Park & Vicksburg, Mississippi</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_ceZoEKT60Xh9V4uYu89zsXmwysZQpOVE8EhR-2-00CpQjXYZW2HoIFzes-ySyQAgUlvgSu5HvbI61n16O-OA2RNFZMdS1TrsV4NfkyTAFesbctXHuYGlyMDUvN_J2uxjtJxGfpXfDY/s1600/HanaWeary_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_ceZoEKT60Xh9V4uYu89zsXmwysZQpOVE8EhR-2-00CpQjXYZW2HoIFzes-ySyQAgUlvgSu5HvbI61n16O-OA2RNFZMdS1TrsV4NfkyTAFesbctXHuYGlyMDUvN_J2uxjtJxGfpXfDY/s320/HanaWeary_SM.jpg" width="240" /></a>We've been tearing across the US these past few weeks trying to backtrack through a few states we've already visited. ^ See that long stretch between our stop in Atlanta and our first MS destination ^? Longest haul yet! We're both a little exhausted and looking forward to our next extended stay. This is the first time in our trip we haven't had a real destination in mind. Somewhere to stop and get a adjusted for a while. Part of me is thinking 'how are we going to make it through the next 7 months at this rate?'. It's honestly very tiring spending all week working, then all weekend traveling, especially moving several times per week like we have been. You wouldn't believe how frustrating it is to get the RV level (!), get the hook-ups in place, slide-outs, and everything back to where it was after a long day driving, just to have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN a few days later! I guess these are what you would call 'first world problems'. </div>
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<i><b>-Tired traveler</b> --></i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our campsite, about 20 feet from the water. Closest to waterfront we've been yet!</td></tr>
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We're still searching for America, and Mississippi seems like a state that we can't just blow through. Full of history, culture, and scenic places to visit it is almost overwhelming as to decide where to go. I have always been a big fan of delta blues, and I know all throughout the state there are several small places in the middle of nowhere that you can't investigate too much before you go. Since we haven't made many tourist spots our primary destination, we have sort of relied on chance as to what kind of experiences we have. You just can't plan on meeting some of the unique people that you are going to meet, nor do you know what message they will have for you. This trip we have been winging it most of the way, with some destinations planned, but I feel that we always end up where we are supposed to, even if some places don't seem like it at the time. </div>
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Mississippi is one of those states that has small mom and pop operations in small towns in the middle of nowhere. One place we found was <b>Long's Fish Camp in Quitman, MS</b>. We went there on a sunday afternoon and it was crowded. Everything there is fried, so it is only a once and a while thing for me, but the highlight for me was the jalepeno hush puppies. </div>
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We spent quite a bit of money at a roadside stand called <b>The Tomato Place in Vicksburg. </b>After going in we found it was also a cafe that served some excellent food. The produce was a better quality than what you will find at the big grocery stores, and the bread was made without any extra chemicals that you would not put in your bread if you were to bake it at home. Hana had a tomato sandwich with butter beans, while I had Salmon with salad, garlic bread, and squash. </div>
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We also stopped at another roadside place called <b>Cups and Cones,</b> which was an authentic cajun boil. For ten bucks we got crawfish, potatoes, corn, spicy cabbage, a sausage, and some mushrooms. When I asked if they used their own spices, or the Louisiana brand boil mix (which is full of msg) they laughed and offered us a sample of about 4 of 5 crawfish. The owner taught be the right way to peel and eat a crawfish tail. I have to say if you are ever in Vicksburg do not pass this small, humble place up because it is worth it. I may even stop there on the way out if they are open because my daring side is curious about the pig ear sandwich. It is not something I would normally eat, as I usually give dried pig ears for my dog to chew on, but curiosity and a longing for authenticity is getting the best of me. </div>
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We pulled into <b>Clarcko State Park</b> with a sigh of relief. It's a sleepy little state park on the east side of the state just past the Alabama border. It had been a while since we had been in a state park like this, and we were getting burned out on the last two kitchy rv parks we had been to that had man-made ponds that I couldn't get interested in casting a line into.</div>
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I sat on the picnic table and started to pick at my guitar when our neighbor, Gene from Tuscaloosa, Alabama (Originally from southern Louisiana) came over and invited us to some gumbo that he and the group he came there with were having. We talked for a minute, and when he told me the group was home schoolers it didn't quite register in my exhausted mind what he meant.</div>
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When I walked upon the site and approached the campfire later, I was immediately welcomed by the circle of people warming up around the fire while their kids of all ages played together nearby. It was then I realized they were a co-op that all homeschooled their children. My interests were immediately sparked because Hana and I have talked about the possibility of homeschooling kids if we happened to have any, and I also suspected that they may have similar spiritual views as I have. </div>
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When I asked for their reasons a parent from each family took turns explaining, giving me a thorough picture of why someone would homeschool their kids. For most, religious beliefs came in to play with a strong desire to bring their children up with a sense of values. This made a lot of sense to me, especially since the parents get to spend so much more time with their children. Looking at most of America today the parents work long hours and hand over the children all day to the public school system without giving much thought to how they will be taught, or what values they really learn. Another advantage is that a parent can give much more personalized attention to a few kids, rather than a single teacher who has a classroom of thiry or so to attend to. One girl who has strong engineering skills was also able to take art lessons from two professional artists in the area. There was a story of another girl with dyslexia who the school refused to take seriously that was not only able to develop her reading skills, but acquire a love for reading as well. </div>
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Given a personalized education, the kids are able to pursue their strong points and subjects that they are interested in. One parent informed me that while there is a stereotype that homeschooled kids are missing out on socialization skills, the fact of the matter is the opposite. The kids actually developed better social skills, and I was fortunate to witness this first hand. They were all very outgoing and polite, and all of the different age groups hung out together. I also have to state that I can tell you firsthand that a public school did nothing for my social skills. My peers made it clear that I didn't fit in which was enough to leave me feeling insecure for a good part of my early life, and only with a strong conscious effort was I able to overcome most of it by my mid-thirties. I still have to work at overcoming this sense inside me that wants to withdraw from most people that aren't family or close friends, or that don't have fur and four legs. </div>
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There was one woman, Terra, who was very eager to share a lot of details of homeschooling with me. She and her husband own 70 acres of land with horses and a spring fed lake full of catfish. After spending a couple hours with the group it was clear to me the advantage and wisdom they had over most of the families in this country. I usually am easily irritated with kids, expecting them to say something rude or obnoxious, but I could see that these kids were different and enjoyed my time around them. At the end of the evening this group also was not shy to come in close and pray(led by Terra) for our safety on our travels, which I was grateful for. </div>
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Lastly, there was a guy named Bob camped near us in Vicksburg that was playing blues on a National Brand steel guitar. I sat out with him for a bit, and he had a great story how he had bought the guitar from David Holt, an american musician who played with Doc Watson for several years. If you haven't heard of David Holt, check him out. He plays a lot of styles of american music, including traditional Appalacian, and several instruments. Holt had just put the guitar on consignment at a shop when Bob found it, and Bob told the owner he would buy it if Holt would sign it. Not only did Bob get a sweet guitar, but he ended up becoming good friends with Holt, and even opened up a show for he and Doc.</div>
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I am sorry to leave Mississippi and the entire eastern region of the south. After 6 months it has rubbed off on me quite a bit, but we can always return next year. There is a big road ahead full of mystery and adventure. </div>
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<b><i>- James</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see Maya hiding behind the log?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopped at the <b>Mississippi Natural Science Museum</b> in Jackson. Pretty good museum for free! Some of the animals looked a little bit dead inside, or actually dead, but that's to be expected from captive animals. The turtles and gators looked pretty happy!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spent the day at the <b>Mississippi Military Park, </b>which has a 16 mile drive around the Vicksburg Civil War battle field, and an original salvaged iron/wood war ship - the first of it's kind. Very cool park with some the best hiking trails we've been on yet. We were climbing under logs and jumping over streams, fun!</td></tr>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-53350935444508636902016-03-20T09:46:00.002-07:002016-03-20T09:49:11.864-07:00Stranded in Statesboro<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: just north of Atlanta, Georgia</td></tr>
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We left South Carolina with enthusiasm as the rig glided through Savannah towards our next destination near Atlanta. After five weeks Leesburg felt like home to me, and I still had yet to shake that homesick feeling. Sometimes moving can make you feel better. The sun burned bright and the traffic was light. Throughout my life I find that most disasters big or small occur when you are feeling good and least expect it. For some reason we believed we would reach our destination in three hours. </div>
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After the first hour the rig filled with smoke. I immediately pulled over and cut the engine. A few seconds after we stopped a huge pool of transmission fluid formed beneath the radiator. Without getting into details of the boredom of being stranded on the expressway for five hours while you bake in the sun and listen to every other car push towards their destinations at seventy miles and hour, the coach was finally towed to D and R Intensive car car in Statesboro. Since it was late on a Saturday, we had to wait until monday morning to get it looked at. What seemed promising was that Bob, the main mechanic, lived in a 1994 class a rig right behind the shop. He was off duty and on his way to pick up his kids, but I didn't have to talk to him long to see that he was knowledgeable, and that he wasn't the type of mechanic to rip anyone off. He seemed like a content guy, and had a big, round face that smiled a lot. The thing that stuck out with me was that he seemed perfectly content living in a motorhome parked right behind the autoshop where he worked. </div>
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To us Statesboro felt like someone made a copy of Ypsilanti and printed it in Georgia. It has a nice, spread out university, but the town is lacking. We stopped at a few different motels to check the prices. I went into a Super 8 that we weren't sure was open since it seemed dark, but the few cars parked in the back indicated that there may have been life in the building. The lobby was dim but there was a guy behind the desk who informed me that there was no vacancies. I immediately guessed that the business was a front. </div>
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Besides the anxiety of all the flashbacks of Ypsilanti, with the oddball characters you find in cheap motels included, I found myself obsessed with the preservation of the frozen fish I had caught the previous months, constantly running back to the RV to make sure the refrigerator was either operating on the generator or propane.</div>
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We made the best of the situation. For a minute it seemed like our dream was being suspended, but by sunday evening I realized it is all just part of it. I woke up at 6:30 on Monday morning to show up at the shop at 7:30. When I pulled into the parking lot I noticed that there were already two customers ahead of me. The woman behind the desk made it sound like I would be lucky if they would even be able to look at it, claiming that they only had one mechanic on duty. Moments later I saw Bob walk out of the garage, and he walked out to the rig to take a look, along with two other mechanics that were way more interested in the coach than the other repairs. </div>
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When I heard Bob say, "You just may be the luckiest man alive" I knew we would be leaving Statesboro that day. Someone left a metal clip on a hose that came from the radiator, and the clip got too hot and blew the connection. That was it. </div>
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Since Hana had to work, we had to wait until she was just about done to blow out of town. The two hour drive we thought we had ahead of us ended up being five. I thought I lost the captain's hat which I always wear when driving the coach. I abandoned superstition years ago, and put my trust in a power greater, not rabbit's feet, buckeyes, or monkey paws. Still I was not quite feeling like the captain. I had my hair pulled back, but all of those shorter pieces of hair strands that broke kept getting in my eyes. It was a windy ride, and the coach was wobbling like mad. One thing I do know is that a good captain stays calm in all situations. Well.....I was a good captain until we had to drive through the six lanes of I 75 going through the metropolis that is Atlanta. I thought I was doing good since my bladder held out so well the first four hours that I didn't stop once. Anyone that knows me will know that this alone is a wonder. I then had to go, and there was nowhere to stop. Semi drivers that should have known better were playing lane hockey along with every other fool that believes that they are immortal. My bladder had declared a state of emergency. We were in the middle lane while rows of cars zipped past us like it was a Jetson's cartoon.</div>
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We finally arrived, and after spending an hour leveling the couch on our sloping site, along with cleaning up the two gallon of water that spilled all over the floor, I took a walk at around 11pm to scope the place out. I walked down to the small, private lake to look for downed trees and logs where fish may be hanging around. When I walked up there was a large man with two boys and a dog who was giving me the stink eye. I would have to say I didn't like the look of him much either. I don't know if it was because he was giving me a look, or if he reminded me of someone I wasn't crazy about. I do have to take the beam out of my own eye and interject that my facial expressions do not always accurately depict what I am feeling inside, and since most of us don't walk around with pocket mirrors, I am oblivious to what message I send to people. As I walked up I said hello to the man, and asked him what kind of fish were in the lake. He sharply said he didn't know.</div>
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I continued to walk around the campground to attempt to burn off some of this extra weight I have gained. Since I quit dancing It has been hard to eat the 3,000 calories I used to take in and stay fit at the same time. I was talking with my dad on the phone as I aimlessly wandered. Now I have been a night walker for years. It worries my dad, especially when I did it in Ypsilanti, but I have always enjoyed the freeness of my thoughts without the distraction of cars and people.</div>
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At the end of one road I saw a pickup that passed me a couple of times sitting with it's headlights on. It was the one time I didn't have my pocket knife on me so I turned and went the other way. Not long after, the pickup pulled over a little ahead of me along with two cop cars. I found it odd that they were pulling him over without using their lights. </div>
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I said hello to the one female officer and she let me know they were there for me. The man that got out of the truck was the man I saw forty minutes earlier. The police began to ask me where I was going, what I was doing there, what site was I staying on, and a bunch of other questions of that nature. The man informed he called because he didn't recognize me. "I thought this place was welcoming to travelers," I said. He said he didn't recognize me, and was worried because he had seen me come out of the woods at night. Now the "woods" was a small row of trees next to a shed at the side of a lake. I have to say that I do suppose that I am looking a little rugged these days. I could shave the beard, but I have gotten so much sun that I would have a farmer's tan on my face. I had my hair tied in a man bun, but if I let it down I sometimes scare myself, looking all to reminiscent of Charles M in his helter skelter years. Hana says I am looking like an RV park Tarzan. I did not think the man bun made me look too threatening though.</div>
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"How long do you plan on staying in Georgia?" the young male cop with a buzzed head asked.</div>
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"I was going to stay until the weekend, but I am not sure I am having that great of a time in Georgia so far."</div>
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He asked for my driver's license, and I politely told him I didn't think I needed it for walking. He asked what my name and birthdate was, and went to his car to look me up. I tried to be as lighthearted as possible, and continued to smile a lot. The female cop was friendly, and when I told her I was trying to lose weight she said I didn't look out of shape. The guy who called became apologetic when he realized he had overreacted. </div>
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"Are you here in Georgia because you are running from warrants in Michigan," asked the cop when he got out of the car. He then said he was joking and that I was free to go. The man apologized some more, and so did the female police officer. </div>
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The thing we learned about police in Ypsilanti is that you feel safer seeing them around when you are in a bad area, but knowing that some of them are as bad, if not worse than the crooks makes you uneasy when you see a lot of them pulling people over just to bring in revenue. </div>
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I woke up with a cranky mind the next morning, prejudging everyone in Georgia to be unfriendly, but as I mentioned earlier, I have to work on the beam that is in my own eye. I made it a point to say hello to a guy that my mind said was a jerk, who I ended up talking to for over an hour. He was a four star Michelin chef from New York that had a cooking program for a while on a local channel that was weary of all of it and longed for the same peace and simplicity that we are after ourselves.</div>
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That afternoon I went to take a walk down some trails in a nearby park and was immediately tailed by a police officer that was sitting at the entrance. The recreation park was extremely large with everything from soccer fields to a skate park. The nature trails were long, but busy and close to all the business of the area. I drove the speed limit of 25 but it was clear he was scoping me out. I had my hair tied up with a ballcap on, so I thought that maybe because I was a lone male from out of town that I was suspect. I wasn't nervous about anything I was doing, but more or less what he would pin on me. I pulled off and parked as soon as possible and walked a longer distance to the trails before I could see him flash his lights. I didn't enjoy the walk much, and figured since he was out for revenue that he had to get it other ways than staking out one person. </div>
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Driving around the area Hana and I noticed several subdivisions with signs at the entrance stating things to the effect of "We call 911". We drove into one to find another entrance to that park, and I got paranoid when I saw a man with his daughter in one arm start to dial his phone. To be fair, even though the area we were in was a bit hoity toity, there is a lot of crime in Atlanta and I would think that maybe they are worried about some of the crime moving it's way into their neighborhood.</div>
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Still, the dream continues. Driving is stressfull at times, but the idea of being dug in (Ronnie's trademark phrase which I am now always using) keeps us discussing how we can avoid conventional life for good. We may disagree about how the world came about and don't share the same world views, but we chase after the same dream. A dream which is relatively vague to us now that is guided by our gut. We would have never guessed this is what we would be doing a year ago, nor do we completely know where we will be a year from now. Tree huggers with a portable grill for life? Maybe. We will just have to continue to hold the reigns and push this coach through our modern day pioneer dream into a horizon filled with mystery and wonder. </div>
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<b><i>-James</i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Product review: Mini Duo True Induction cooktop</td></tr>
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Our crappy little single burner electric cook top finally died this week. That on top of the breakdown, being stranded, and nearly being arrested for walking at night, this may have been our worst week yet.</div>
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We were forced to make a decision: buy another cheap cook top or invest in a better, more expensive, induction burner. We went with the induction. We got a nice little double burner, <b>True Induction Mini Duo,</b> that can sit on the countertop or be inset into the counter. In the event that we actually do renovate an Airstream in the future, this will work perfectly as an inset cooktop for our custom kitchen (!!). It looks a little wonky now sitting on top of the gas stove though.</div>
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The major drawback to converting to induction is that we had to buy new induction-ready pots! Not a major investment, but still.. </div>
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This type of electric stove uses less energy because it heats only the surface area of the pot itself. This model allows you to either adjust by power (1-5) or by actual temperature (120 degrees to 460 degrees) and heats up WAY faster than our last burner. It also has a built in timer, locks when not in use, and will straight up <i>not</i> heat anything that is non-inductive, like your hand for instance :). I liked this model because it was by far the smallest double burner, but it is in no way <i>too</i> small, it's actually plenty big to fit two large pans at once. Not sure why you would need anything larger.</div>
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RVs typically come with a built in 4-burner gas stove and oven. I cannot fathom needing to use all 4 burners in a kitchen this tiny. The oven unit has been a complete waste of space. Without it we would just have so much more storage.. But I would hate to take it out and get rid of it since we'll likely be selling this RV at some point in the next year or so, so for now we'll deal.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farewell Georgia, we'll be back never..</td></tr>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-68178000250774376352016-03-13T08:35:00.000-07:002016-03-15T04:53:34.810-07:00Savannah, Georgia<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Destination: Savannah, Georgia</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;">Skipper's log: Day 138 and the cabin fever has set in. While Captain J is out adventuring I'm trapped on the ship swabbing the deck.... </span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">Ok, sea voyager analogies aside, the cabin fever kinda HAS set in but mainly due to where we stayed this week, <b>Hardeeville RV Park (1 star rating from us)</b>. Last month we were spoiled by the miles of walkable roads and the two dog parks in Leesburg. Our park just outside of Savannah was sort of a parking lot in the woods with asphalt gravel and too many RVs too close together. There were a lot of young people in this park, but not many people were friendly here. That usually seems to be the case whenever the crowd is a little younger. It turns out they're mostly full-timers who are little too busy working to wave or stop and say hello. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Aside from going to Savannah a few times, it was pretty boring in the area just outside the </span>city. We attempted to go to the <b>Savannah Wildlife Refuge</b>, but they don't allow dogs ANYWHERE in the entire park!! Oh, but they do allow you to buy a permit to shoot just about any animal in the 'refuge', including squirrel, deer, water fowl, hogs, etc.. I mean, who <i>walks</i> without a dog anyway, really? I don't get it! We were completely unable to find any dog-friendly walking trails during the week. Zero. Out in nature. Cross this place off our list of livable areas..<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Savannah Wildlife Refuge (on fire)</td></tr>
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That said, we did really enjoy the city itself. It was walkable, easy parking, people were friendly, beautiful architecture, tons of parks. They even have city ambassadors that walk around answering questions and handing out maps. Cool! The city was very dog friendly as well. Tons of restaurants offered dog water dishes, and we were able to eat lunch on a patio with them while listening to some live music. We stopped at an ice-cream shop called <b>Leopold's</b> with a line down the block. We figured there must be a reason for the line, so we decided to wait. It was worth the wait, plus they brought out free little ice-cream cones for the dogs! The people waiting in line loved it and my heart melted a little. That's how you do Customer Service! And it obviously pays off seeing as how they were crazy insane busy.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"></span><b>-Hana</b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complementary doggie ice-cream cones at Leopold's</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Watcher". Historic cemetery in the heart of the city.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying some southern/Mexican 'fusion' at <b>Blowing Smoke Cantina</b>; Yum!</td></tr>
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Our week in South Carolina was not as magical. Our campground was one of those boring places with nowhere to walk around. We did take a walk in the swampy woods behind the park, but after encountering a pack of wild hogs we took off and didn't go back. There was a pond in the back with fish, but the owner did not want anyone fishing in it. The dog park was full of those pickery balls that fall from trees, and our dogs were unable to move in it without hurting their paws. I brought it to the owners attention but nothing was done. There wasn't a single bathroom or shower. I would have to say it was our least favorite place. </div>
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In the Savanah Wildlife Refuge I had observed alligators as big as 8 feet long. I had walked past a large, black snake that was hiding in the trail, and almost stepped on what appeared to be a golfball sized spider that was either holding a claw, or had one. I could not tell.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6kGNsw5_9KJoyo8yvPbpPXhpHlwyCuZm834ya_GWqh6gduIgmV5aPN82-ogn8yDEA7bZptAsvW2-h5IO9XeZZW8cQ1tA0XrCTo5Nn83vmaspnpKiCkcB8mML8SdsvsCj0C17mwAdZ9k/s1600/JamesFishing_SM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl6kGNsw5_9KJoyo8yvPbpPXhpHlwyCuZm834ya_GWqh6gduIgmV5aPN82-ogn8yDEA7bZptAsvW2-h5IO9XeZZW8cQ1tA0XrCTo5Nn83vmaspnpKiCkcB8mML8SdsvsCj0C17mwAdZ9k/s400/JamesFishing_SM.jpg" width="307" /></a> I did find a large shallow pond in the refuge to fish in that seemed promising. Since it was full of weeds and lily pads I decided to give my rubber frog a try. I ended up catching three black bass in an hour. Exited about my catch I expected to get more, but the fish didn't seem to want the frog as bad at the other creatures in the pond. I had a large bullfrog attack my rubber kermit with a vengeance, and when I pulled my bait in the bullfrog sat still and stared at me for minutes after until I went to another part of the pond. I had also noticed three other reptiles sitting frozen with their heads slightly poking out of the water while I threw kermit in the water and slowly bounced him on the lily pads. The next day I had a large snake go after my frog, and fortunately he let go before I reeled him in. Later that day I hooked a frog in the tongue. If I was hungry enough I could have easily had frog legs for dinner. While the bass just would not bite, I did have a couple of small alligators that I almost hooked with my rubber frog. I brought Hana out to the pond our last day, and within a few casts a baby alligator popped out and started to move quickly at my<br />
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Nonetheless, Hana did not have to drag me kicking and screaming out of South Carolina this week. </div>
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<b>-James</b><br />
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Cabin Fever Blues</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Stay tuned next week for all the details about our harrowing highway breakdown and detour!</span></div>
<br />Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-64434461442736694852016-03-13T08:05:00.004-07:002016-03-13T08:37:25.683-07:00James' Florida Follow-up<div class="yiv1113998754" id="yiv1113998754yui_3_16_0_1_1457880501037_3695" style="background-color: white; font-family: helveticaneue, 'helvetica neue', helvetica, arial, 'lucida grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">
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<span style="font-size: 16px;">One thing I have always known about writing is that you write best about a subject or time that has had impact afterwards, and not during the event. Looking back at the five weeks in Leesburg, Fl I feel like I did not accurately depict the experience that I had, and I am not sure that I will be able to do that for a while. I would like to touch on a few details though.</span></div>
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When one would take a first glance at the Holiday Travel Resort, immediately they might feel like they stepped into the movie Cocoon. If you look back at that movie it was humorous, heartwarming, and has a magical feel about it. A lot of you may wonder what Hana and I might see in living around a bunch of old people as opposed to living in a busy area with the young hipster crowd. We both found we actually liked it better. We were already sick of the hipsters in Ann Arbor that acted like they were putting on a lifestyle/ fashion show. It was a relief to be in an area that nobody was trying to impress everyone. Everyone that passed by waved and said hello. You could sit in a hot tub and have a great conversation with someone decades older than you. Most of all despite age and levels of income people just all seemed to be on the same level. Our neighbors that were from Canada were offering help in the first hour of us being there. When they saw we didn't have a mat in front of our door they let us borrow theirs. Our lock was broken on the door for the first few days we were there, but we never once worried about breaking in. In fact, we found that most people didn't even lock their doors.</div>
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I also have to make a note that once I stepped in the bathroom and heard an old guy singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow as if he were singing it in front of an audience that he wanted to make cry. It is these small moments of sincerity that you have to look at with nothing but respect. It brought great joy to my heart to hear that old man sing a song like that. </div>
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As for my friend Ronnie, I don't think I gave him enough justice in a few lines, and don't think I could even in a few chapters. He is the type of character a writer wishes they could think of, but yet the type of character that should be respected and appreciated in the moment. The morning we were leaving he was at our door in his golf cart offering help to pack us up to ease any tension that could happen between a couple on the day they leave a place. He said his former wife would always be mad when they were leaving and would pick a fight over anything. I have to be truthful in saying that travel days can sometimes have a few bumps in the road between us. I cannot rightfully depict his southern drawl, nor half the phrases he would say that would be humorous and simple, but at the same time more profound than something you would hear a professor say to an overcrowded room to a bunch of kids that are only half interested in what he has to say. Ronnie was a sincere guy with a big heart who is doing the best he can to get through this life. I was always at ease talking with him, and sincerely regretted that I didn't spend more time with him. I planned on it, but the time went by so fast and it was over. Nonetheless, I have been keeping in contact with Ronnie by phone, and he drops in on my dad in the park often now. I knew Ronnie had been in a motorcycle accident twenty something years ago and lost his leg, but one detail my dad learned about him was that after he had a blood transfusion he was able to pick up a guitar and play it when he was unable to even strum a chord before. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxPBQSqzl1M4Imrczac0ELmI55Ag3pCs1bIUMlJ3__H0Q__vRMiP0JgRhoP7Shwdm6dFRJKvsmBdx2LoK6byPHqFXSQNrEWsYtBMrS6lGl07EJcm1I-i6XTDyN9quIjz98ruRpQwkWlc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-03-13+at+11.22.40+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTxPBQSqzl1M4Imrczac0ELmI55Ag3pCs1bIUMlJ3__H0Q__vRMiP0JgRhoP7Shwdm6dFRJKvsmBdx2LoK6byPHqFXSQNrEWsYtBMrS6lGl07EJcm1I-i6XTDyN9quIjz98ruRpQwkWlc/s320/Screen+Shot+2016-03-13+at+11.22.40+AM.png" width="258" /></a> Since most of you know what dog lovers we are I do have to say that I was also able to form a bond with Gabby, my dad's thirteen year old Scnauzer. She would always bark when I would come to the door. By the last week she wouldn't bark at all. As Gabby is a part of the family, I find myself missing her too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgof_iwjWvKGHRpYpW6uj1NWbRygB3EEUdxJWM7p9pLW9SIno3EaXoAuLl8ogGI2e5an-9gzGdJaaPqns9P_euaBndJSY09IzQjj8Zqn2j2yiCNcqWugmgEQ6IrqK0mQNqJ6LjQ5Aj7KPw/s1600/DSC_0289.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgof_iwjWvKGHRpYpW6uj1NWbRygB3EEUdxJWM7p9pLW9SIno3EaXoAuLl8ogGI2e5an-9gzGdJaaPqns9P_euaBndJSY09IzQjj8Zqn2j2yiCNcqWugmgEQ6IrqK0mQNqJ6LjQ5Aj7KPw/s400/DSC_0289.jpeg" /></a> And again I have to touch on the fact that it was hard to leave my father. I have woken up the past few mornings heartbroken when I realized I couldn't just walk over and sit with my dad in the shade in the afternoon, or that he wouldn't be dropping by on his golf cart with his dog Gabby to take Frankie and I for a ride. My message to all of you is to appreciate the small moments in life, because oftentimes you will find later that they were a lot bigger than you thought. My other message would be is you just don't know who people really are, or what message they could have for you. As I said, I cannot at this time accurately describe the magic I felt the past five weeks, but if I could share with you a fraction of the light that warmed my heart then I did a lot.<br />
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<b>-James</b></div>
Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1738245402700788720.post-2040545556848204452016-03-03T18:09:00.000-08:002016-03-08T13:11:47.116-08:00Leaving Florida<div class="yiv5136384322" id="yiv5136384322yui_3_16_0_1_1456702376018_3992" style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">
This week James has written a chapter on our month in Florida, and Hana has included a recipe for Sour Orange Pie. As always, thanks for reading & enjoy!<br />
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I remember this time last year taking a walk at night through St. Augustine hoping I would be able to return to Florida again, although under different circumstances. Last time I was here my dad was in the hospital with double pneumonia, along with another infection, along with already having leukemia and autoimmune. He went into the hospital because of breathing difficulties, and died the next day for a total of ten minutes. It was a miracle that he came back. At his age and weight alone his chances of being brought back according to statistics were less than seven percent, and that is without the cancer and compromised immune system. It would take me a couple chapters to explain all of the events that led up to this and to show that God can work in some mysterious ways. It was a week of incredible spiritual awakening. When I saw my father in the hospital he was drugged and hooked up to a respirator with his hands tied to the bed. Exactly a week later he was off the respirator and recovering quickly. </div>
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I took some long walks by the ocean last year, praying for my father's health, but also trying to put my own life into perspective. I would have never guessed that I would be in Florida again a year later. Now we are here and I have been able to spend a month with my dad and his wife Rosann. It seems like I sneezed and the month was passed. As I have gotten older and hopefully somewhat wiser, time with family has become more important. It is going to be harder to leave here than anywhere yet knowing I have to say goodbye to my father and go back out on a long journey, but such is life. Sometimes we take the time we have with people we love for granted, but even when you don't take that time for granted there just doesn't seem to be enough of it. </div>
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We went back to St. Augustine to spend the day. We were originally going to celebrate the anniversary of the date my father had his experience in the hospital, but according to him every day is a celebration for the life he was given. I would urge everyone to look at life that way. I don't expect it to be a dry departure from here, and inside I will probably cry enough tears to keep my minnows alive in for a while. </div>
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While most of the people here are retired snowbirds, once you get out and talk to people the age gap doesn't make much of a difference. Our campsite is spacious with plenty of shade from the trees. There are all types of classes offered from woodworking to clowning. There are two swimming pools and a hot tub, which I was exited about at first since I could easily burn some extra weight that I put on without damaging my joints, but after a few days I developed an issue with my skin that I assumed may have been from the chlorine. After one swim I took a shower an hour later and the water felt like hot lava being poured on my legs. Now I just sit and read western novels that I picked up from the small library they have here while Hana swims. I didn't ever expect myself to be interested in these types of books, but when I was a kid I loved wild west cowboy movies, so my interest is inspired by nostalgia. In spite of the corniness of some of the stories, there is a historic element to them which is getting me exited to head west soon.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ronnie & James</td></tr>
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This park is so large that you can walk three and a half miles around the perimeter. While some of the snowbirds are in rv's like us or fifth wheels, there are others that are in more permanent park models. There is plenty of shade, and I can't seem to get enough of the spanish moss. In the back of the park is a long, winding canal with a marina and fishing boats. The canal goes through a large swamp with nothing but trees poking out of the water, and leads to several connected lakes. I was telling Hana during a walk that I wish I could go fishing on a boat before we leave and only moments later we talked to a guy who had just been fishing and he offered to take me out. I was happy to take his offer, and learned that my new fishing companion used to chase hurricanes as a profession. He also refers to anyone that has a house that isn't on wheels as "dug in." Ironically, I found the honey hole right away while fishing from the shore, and we ended up fishing that spot from the boat just a little further out than I could cast from shore. We caught about ten good sized crappie. It was dark when we headed back, and my friend's lights weren't working so I sat at the front of the small boat with a flashlight guiding us through the narrow, winding canal. Ronnie already had problems seeing at night, but he still had an idea where all of the stumps were. </div>
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After fishing anywhere for a while you get to be friends with some of the locals. One of my other buddies, Jim, is loaded with information. He is also from Michigan, and used to run a charter. He is a large man with a long white beard and hair longer than mine. Everyone calls him Santa Claus. He warned me about fishing the one spot at night, and claims he would not fish out there alone without a gun. </div>
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Jim also told me about a Mexican man and woman that fish at that spot at night. He said many times people were catching fish just fine until that woman sat down next to them, then nothing. He said that couple would just pull in one after the other all night long. One night at 2 am I went out there when a good storm was brewing up. I went up to the spot to find a short Mexican guy with a bucket full of crappie. I fished with him and caught nothing while he pulled in one after the other. </div>
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"I think I heard about you," I said to him.</div>
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"Did Santa Claus tell you about us?" he asked. "He tells everyone about us."</div>
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The storm was coming in, along with a lot of lightning. The Fish Sorcerer I was with was getting nervous about the lightning, and told me how his friend got struck and survived. He also told me of other fisherman that were killed. "When the fish are biting they just can't pull themselves away." I was thinking I was about to become one of those fools, but at the same time my best fishing experiences have been in rainstorms. Sometimes I didn't even catch anything. Nonetheless, I couldn't pull myself away. </div>
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I had already been out for hours with nothing, and I was hoping he would leave soon so I could catch some fish because he had all of his lines in the honey hole. I talked up the lighting while I contemplated if I was actually fearful of it or not. Finally at three am he called it quits when the rain came down hard and the wind was blowing like crazy. He gave me some minnows before he left, and I cast my line in the spot where he was getting all of the fish. He wasn't even in his car when I finally caught a good size crappie. After that I continued to catch one large crappie after another, one that would have won a Master Angler Award if I was in Michigan. I was ready to call it a night when at about five am everything calmed down and Santa Claus pulled up in his red truck. I stayed out a little longer to talk with my friend, and didn't finish cleaning the fish until 7 am.</div>
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I was fishing with the Fish Sorcerer and his wife a couple of nights later when a girl in striped spandex with rolled out hair walked out of a sports car and onto the pier. She asked me what I was going to do with the fish after I caught them. When I told her I was going to eat them she asked, "Why are you going to do that?" I suppose she thought fish is better from the store. She got back into the sports car for a while until a white truck pulled up. She sat in the white truck for about a half hour, then went back to the car while the truck sat there. There was a little more going back and forth until she stayed in the white truck that suddenly blasted a hip hop song and took off, while the dude in the sports car sat and waited. How a fishing pier becomes a place of prostitution, drugs, and robbery isn't beyond my understanding, but most places I have been fishing at night you don't really want to be there alone. You could bring a weapon, but I most times I would prefer to avoid the situation. I would rather deal with the rain and thunder than some of the weirdos that come out at night.</div>
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Just before I was going to call it quits there was a boat with all it's lights off speeding into the shore. "They got over the limit," a woman said. After they loaded up the boat on it's trailer the men walked up to the pier and asked if we wanted catfish. They said we could have as much as we wanted. I walked back with them to find that they had at least fifty catfish all piled up on one another in two wells. One of the guys told me they snagged them all. While there is no limit on catfish, if a game warden were to check them out and find the large three pointed hooks that they dragged on the bottom to get the fish they would get into quite a bit of trouble. I took three while others took more. </div>
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"The Lord works in mysterious ways," the woman said to me. </div>
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So far I have heard quite a bit of stories about that pier. Santa Claus told me he was once approached late night by a dude in his pajamas. Sometimes when fishing alone people have gotten mugged and scammed. Santa Claus' buddy Sean told me once at three a.m. a woman pulled into the parking lot with an older woman, both claiming to run out of gas. For some reason he trusted her enough to give her the keys to his truck, much to the disbelief of his companions. Sean claimed that after about three or four hours his truck was yet to return and e started to sweat a little. She finally returned around 7 a.m. without any gas. When he asked the younger woman why she didn't get any gas she replied,"I only had a dollar!" Relieved that he got his truck back, Sean then handed the woman a twenty. </div>
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Before I end the fish talk I do have to brag that I caught the largest largemouth bass yet at the spot using a rubber worm. There are no pictures because I was alone early in the morning and did not keep him. He was a little scraped up from an escape he made from an alligator, and I felt that boy deserved to go back in the water. The excitement alone of looking into that wide open mouth when pulling him in was enough for me. He felt like he weighed at least five pounds. At first I regretted throwing him back because of all the meat he had on him, but looking at the freezer full of fish I have I realized I didn't need to kill such a beautiful, strong creature. Now looking back I am glad that I threw him back. There are plenty more big bass out there.</div>
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Hana seems happy out here, and I am hoping we return again next winter. I know she is anxious to be on the move, as I find myself wanting to stay. I am still not ready to be dug in, but time is going by too fast since I finally have the opportunity to spend time with family. The dogs are loving it because there is a large dog park for them to run around in everyday. </div>
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One day Santa Claus gave me a large order of spare ribs that he had just gotten from a guy called Grandpa. I ate some of them, and gave the rest to my dad and Rosann. It had been a while since I'd had ribs, but they tasted like the best ribs I ever had. They were seasoned just right without being drowned in barbecue sauce. Later that day my dad called me and told me to find out who Grandpa was so he could get some more of those ribs. Today I found out he has a stand just down the street from us. His ribs go for eighteen dollars a slab. It is my guess that Santa Claus barters with him for fresh caught fish. </div>
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Within a mile of us not far from downtown Leesburg is Venetian park, which is right on Lake Harris, and full of winding canals where bass, crappie, catfish, and other types lurk beneath the lily pads. There are about six bridges that go over the canals. If you go here at daybreak there will be a few regular fisherman. By nine the park is loaded with birdwatchers who will drop some bread on the ground and watch the various exotic birds flock. At night some of these birds almost sounds like humans having conversations. The regular bird feeders have a style about how they do it. While some sit on a bench and feed the birds a little at a time, others will briskly walk tossing handfuls of bread into the air while flocks of birds seem to appear from nowhere.</div>
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Since we have been in Florida I have become pretty well acquainted with pelicans. There were two regulars named Eddie and Edgar at the pier in Carabelle who eat all of the small fish people catch, and when they are full they leave. There was one here in the rv park that would sit in the middle of the street near the canal, and was not phased at all by passing cars or golf carts. The story is he came with a flock of pelicans that were moving away from a storm. When the flock flew off, he stayed behind. One night I discovered that the Pelican had been run over by a big rig that was speeding, and did not stop after it hit him. Later I heard that the rig tried to miss him, and stopped and got out after they hit him. Whichever is true, the pelican was probably sick and the rig was the remedy. Nonetheless, I missed that pelican for a while. </div>
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One of my biggest concerns about traveling for a year was being away from my parents. I suppose it comes with age, but being near family is more important to me at this stage in my life than ever. I appreciate every minute that I get to spend with my family. Fortunately my mom was staying on the coast with Uncle Al and Aunt Debbie in Mediera Beach this last week. We spent a nice afternoon sitting in the shade looking out over the Golf Coast. My Uncle still looks the same as he did 20 years ago. I look forward to seeing my mom in Michigan in the summer, as well as visiting Al and Debbie in their new Northern Michigan house when it's completed.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James & Mom, Chris<span style="font-family: "helveticaneue" , "helvetica neue" , "helvetica" , "arial" , "lucida grande" , sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> </span></td></tr>
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The other day I had a chance to go fishing with my Dad and Rosann. I work up at 5:30 a.m. to make sure and get the best spot possible on the pier. For whatever reason the fish just were not biting, and the only thing caught was a baby gar. Even though fish are the primary goal, anyone that truly loves fishing knows there is more to the experience than catching fish. It was great to be able to be out there enjoying the day, and I was happy to see that my Dad was able to cast out as far, if not a little farther than me.<br />
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Words cannot express how happy I was to have this past month. It is never easy to say goodbye, and as Hana likes to joke she is going to have to drag me kicking and screaming yet from another campground. </div>
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<b>-James</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>Easy Sour Orange Pie</b></span></h2>
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<span style="text-align: start;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif;">I wanted to try and update a key lime pie recipe once we got to Florida and realized the park was FULL of sour orange trees and people were just throwing the unwanted fruit in the garbage(!!). Sour oranges can be easily used anywhere you would use a lemon and they are great for this recipe! I also made an orange cleaner using vinegar/water/orange juice & rinds. James used them for salad dressings, and I also want to try making marmalade. So many uses!</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• 1 can sweetened condensed milk</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• 1 8oz package <b>room temperature</b> cream cheese </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• 3oz sour orange juice (about 1 large or 2 small oranges)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• Zest of 1 or 2 oranges, split in 2</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">• Graham cracker crust, or smashed up graham crackers for a base - parfait style</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: "roboto" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Mix the cream cheese and sweetened condensed milk until smooth, then throw in the juice, vanilla extract and half of the zest. Mix again! Top with some more zest, then cool in the refrigerator 4 hours or over night. The Deliciousness to Overall Ease ratio is strong with this recipe, which is probably why we made it THREE TIMES this month!</span></div>
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Hana Rose Pavlovhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14284649637389656606noreply@blogger.com2