 You may be wondering how we plan our trips. As you can imagine, many considerations go into our location choices, including weather, travel distance, and people we know in a certain area.
The year before we started full-time RVing, we thought we were super smart and organized. We planned our stops based on the distance we thought we could travel in a day, having never driven a big rig, and even booked campgrounds. After taking ownership of our fifth wheel, we wised up a bit and looked at the map differently — so differently, in fact, that we canceled all of the campgrounds we had booked. We had originally planned to hit the road toward the end of June 2020, but we moved up the date and completely rerouted our course. Start with a Goal Now, we start our course planning with a goal destination in mind. In 2020, we wanted to make it to Bob’s homeland of Massachusetts, as we hadn’t been there in about six years. We also needed to deliver some items to our son, Joshua, in Eugene, Oregon, and to our daughter, Megan, in Chattanooga, Tennessee. So those had to be stops on our journey as well. For 2021, we set a goal of traveling to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, somewhere I’d never been even though I was born in Michigan. For 2022, we’re planning two destinations: Florida and Maine. And 2023 may include a trip on the Alaska Highway to the Last Frontier. Add Stops Along the Way Since we had a target destination of Massachusetts in 2020 and needed to visit Oregon as well, it seemed fitting that our debut cross-country RV trip should be from the West Coast to the East Coast. We also wanted to visit family in South Dakota and Michigan and planned to be in Washington, D.C., in September for a warbird flyover. So, we plotted those points. We had planned to travel only on the weekends and only one day at a time. That objective quickly changed since I had a freer schedule being out of work. In 2021, we had originally planned to visit the northern Midwest states: Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. But, we also planned to leave the Phoenix area at the end of February. We knew heading north wouldn’t be the smartest thing, but our love of adventure convinced us otherwise. When we learned, however, that the average accumulation of snow in Bozeman, Montana, in March is more than 13 inches, we decided to alter our course. And it worked out for the best. We spent three weeks with my parents in Yuma, Arizona, and then headed east — staying south — with fellow full-time RVers Tom and Molly Gates. The location of friends and family, as well as visiting places we haven’t been and filling in states on our map, all weigh into our overnight decisions. And internet coverage is a must for us at any RV stop as I need it to be able to work. Don’t Plan Too Far in Advance We’ve learned to be flexible and generally don’t plan each stop very far in advance. That frees us to modify our route as desired based on weather and other circumstances. For example, we try to avoid driving in the rain or strong wind whenever possible. We made the mistake toward the end of our 2021 travels of driving in the rain, only to find puddles of water inside the trailer when we set up camp. When we knew we’d be in Michigan’s UP over Memorial Day, we booked a campsite a month in advance to ensure we had a place to stay. But typically, we don’t book more than a week or two out — although we may have an idea in mind of the area we’d like to stay. Even though we already have a general route in mind for our 2022 travels, we only have a couple of stops planned. One is because we’re going on a cruise out of Tampa, Florida. When you’re a full-time RVer, you have to plan ahead to keep your home somewhere safe while you’re away. Read more answers to reader questions.
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 The lockdowns brought on by the pandemic inspired people to purchase RVs and explore America as a way to get out of their homes. Many of these people probably had visions of grandeur, parking next to lakes and overlooking beautiful canyons. Those images, although nice, are not the norm of RV living. True full-time RV life is much dirtier. Although Bob and I do get to meet people from all over the continent, visit places we haven’t seen before, and capture amazing sunrises and sunsets, there’s much more to RV life that isn’t as attractive — or exciting. Arriving at a location may end a day of travel, but it can take two to three hours to park in a campsite, depending on a number of factors: levelness (or lack thereof) of the ground, angle and layout of the site, the driver’s experience, and a whole lot more. Here, we explore some of the not-so-pleasant parts of RV living. Things Get Lost We lose things more often than we’d like to admit. With only 400 square feet of living space, you wouldn’t think that would be the case. But because we have so many areas to store things, we don’t always remember where we put them. We may know we kept them, but finding their hiding place is another thing altogether. For example, we knew we had a bag of dried chili peppers somewhere. Bob wanted to use them in cooking, but we couldn’t find them. Our pantry is nearly two feet deep and just over a foot wide, featuring three shelves to which we’ve added levels. We often lose things in there. All of our food storage doesn’t fit in the pantry, so we have food stored in other cabinets in the rig too. Determining where to search for food items is only part of the battle. We did find the chili peppers, but it took me standing on a stool with my head inside the pantry while Bob shone a flashlight to help me see its contents. Mysterious Things Happen  Because road travel causes a lot of vibrations, Tagalong essentially experiences a series of earthquakes every time we relocate. These vibrations can jar screws loose and cause other issues. Oftentimes, screws appear from nowhere — even after we’ve been set up for a while. Then we have to figure out where the screws came from so we can reattach them. One day after I got out of the shower, a screw appeared on the counter. Naturally, I assumed it came from the sliding glass shower door, but I couldn’t easily identify its source. We set the screw aside and didn’t notice any abnormal or faulty shower door operations until a whole week later. I attempted to slide the three-paneled door from one end of the shower to the other and noticed a huge gap. That screw attached two of the shower door panels together. Bob attempted to reattach the screw while I held a flashlight for him, but his fingers had very little leverage in the ½-inch slot. We had to order a new tool designed specifically for tight spaces to tighten the screw properly.  Limited Wastewater Capacity When you live in a home in a city like we did for 24 years, you don’t think twice about where your waste goes when you flush the toilet. When you live in an RV, however, that thought is often on your mind. Waste collection tanks have limited capacity. After nearly two years living in our fifth wheel, we know our black tank can last about two weeks with just the two of us using the toilet. After that, it needs to be emptied. If we’re staying in a campground with sewer hookups, that’s not a problem. We typically connect our sewer hose to the drain upon arrival at the campground. To empty the black (toilet) and gray (sink and shower) tanks, we simply exit the rig, pull a lever, and dump the contents. But that’s not the end. Then we have to close that lever and deposit some sort of chemical or probiotic into the toilet to mitigate odor and break up what will become the new contents in the tank. If we’re boondocking or staying somewhere without sewer hookups, we physically have to move the rig in order to dump the tanks. Many RVers carry a portable waste tank with them that allows them to empty part of the contents of their black and gray tanks into it to transfer to a dump station. But stopping the flow of wastewater isn’t always an easy endeavor.   Canceled. The corners of my lips sagged as I read the text message announcing the demise of our scheduled flight. After a super relaxing and much-needed cruise and a wonderful Christmas with family in Arizona, we had planned to visit more family in Eugene, Oregon. Because changing plans are a regular part of our RV life, we took the cancellation news in stride and came up with an alternative plan. We’d rent a car and drive four-plus hours to Palm Springs, California, and fly to Eugene from there the next day. We looked forward to the adventure. After securing the vehicle and fueling our bellies, we hit the freeway. About 45 minutes into our trip, my phone dinged to announce a notification. The flight out of Palm Springs had also been canceled. Unfortunately, we had prepaid for a one-way car rental. We wouldn't recoup that money. A painful lesson learned. We turned around and headed back to Sky Harbor International Airport, where we had rented the vehicle from, thankful for the cancellation notice before traversing very far. After successfully returning the rental, we caught the light rail back to Mesa. Given that more than 5,000 flights had been canceled, we didn’t make a third attempt to get to Eugene. Frontal Lobotomy for Gulliver We’ve learned that changes to plans provide opportunities. Since I already had the week off work, we took advantage of the downtime to give Gulliver some needed upgrades. The day of our originally scheduled departure to Eugene, Gulliver wouldn’t start. Multiple attempts didn’t help his engine come to life. We had to ask a neighbor to give us a jump-start. Some quick calculations revealed Gulliver’s two batteries (yes, two!) were four years old, the typical life expectancy of car batteries in Arizona. After monitoring the battery voltage for a few days, we decided it would be best to change the batteries, with hopes that would fix the issues and it wasn’t the alternator.  New batteries intact, Gulliver acted quirky, beeping when we opened the door and not responding to certain buttons, as if rejecting his new parts. A check on the Dodge Ram forums revealed normal quirkiness after a battery change as the vehicle’s systems reset. Gulliver seems to be back to normal now. The battery upgrades did the trick. Musical Shoes We also wanted to get Gulliver’s tires evaluated before we head out on the road again this year. You may recall Gulliver got new shoes only two years ago, so they should still be in pretty good shape. But all the weight of towing Tagalong and weaving the front tires to and fro to back up the trailer into camping spots takes its toll on the tread. We’ve trusted our vehicles’ tires to East Valley Tire Outlet for years. After examining Gulliver’s tread, the pros there recommended we simply rotate the tires. With six tires — two of which aren’t easy to get to — we weren’t sure how that was supposed to work. So, we let the experts handle it while we waited. Having the tires off gave Bob an opportunity to inspect the brake pads, which all appeared to be in good shape. Less than an hour and $80 later, Gulliver was ready to run and back on the road.   The RV life is full of surprises. We never know what we’re going to come across from place to place. Some things are unpleasant and even scary. Others are fun and enjoyable. And some are just different. Here are our four most unique experiences of 2021, in no particular order: Pillars of Smoke?  While heading east along Lake Michigan in the state’s Upper Peninsula to the Mackinac Bridge and the Lower Peninsula, we saw pillars of what appeared to be black smoke in the distance. As we neared them, the smoke dissipated, and a rapid-fire flicking sound emanated from Gulliver. It turns out the “pillars” were actually swarms of midge flies. As the water of Lake Michigan warms, midges emerge from the lake to reproduce after hibernating for up to six months. The flies are harmless as they don’t bite, but they can be quite annoying–and quite messy. Both Gulliver and Tagalong needed a good wash after those encounters. Airport Camping  We’ve had some pretty unique camping setups from place to place. But our most unique would have to be parked next to our friends’ airplane hangar in Terre Haute, Indiana — inside the airport fence. Flyable airplanes filled our windows, and the humming of propellers made us feel right at home, beckoning us back to the Commemorative Air Force Airbase Arizona, where we both volunteer. As it turned out, Airbase Arizona’s B-25 had a tour stop there the same week. Our little electric bikes got a good workout as we zipped from our trailer along taxiways to the airport to hang out with the B-25 crew and back again. Armadillo Hunt  Bob’s gone on many hunts. I joined him on a few, but I never caught anything — not until this spring in Texas, that is. While camping at a state park and sitting by the fire, I heard a rustling noise coming from the bushes nearby. The volume of the sound convinced me the source of the noise was pretty good-sized, so I stayed in my seat enjoying the fire, not wanting to encounter a large animal in the dark. Bob and his brother, Tom, decided to investigate the noise to see what caused it. But the elusive creature evaded them. At another Texas state campground, however, our investigations paid off, and we got to see an armadillo with our very own eyes. I’ve always liked treasure hunts, and this one did not disappoint. Killer Cardinal  Having camped for many years, we know birds and wildlife are part of the experience. What we didn’t know was that some birds don’t want to coexist with campers. We quickly found that out in our week at a campground near Dallas. It seems we had invaded a cardinal’s territory, and it made sure we knew how it felt about the situation. How? By continually flying toward our back window and pecking at it with her beak.
When that didn’t work, she’d go around to our side windows and do the same thing. This happened day after day until we left, two weeks later. We hope Polly finally found what she was looking for.  RV living is definitely an adventure. You never know what you’re going to encounter anywhere you go. It’s unpredictable, which has helped us both to become more flexible. Every year on the road, we find ourselves in situations we would have rather avoided. But we learn from them, and they make us stronger. Here, we count down our six scariest moments from our 2021 travels: 6. Low DEF Gulliver has a diesel engine, and modern diesel engines require diesel exhaust fluid (DEF) to reduce the amount of pollution they release into the air. You may have seen a truck blow black smoke before. DEF prevents that. Because this pollution preventer is so important, diesel engine manufacturers install restrictions on modern vehicles that lack it. So, if Gulliver’s DEF level gets too low, he’s subject to a speed throttle, reducing our peak speed to as little as 5 mph. About 40 miles from our planned fuel stop in Michigan, where we could also get DEF, we pulled into a rest area to assess the situation. Our DEF tank had never been this low, leaving us uncertain as to how far we could go before Gulliver slowed to a crawl. Bob asked a trucker at the rest area if he had any spare DEF. Sure enough, he offered us a jug of the smelly stuff. Bob poured some in our tank and checked the level on the dash. It barely registered. We ended up using the whole jug — and the trucker wouldn’t accept anything in return. 5. Low-Flying Chopper  Our friends in Terre Haute, Indiana, have an airplane hangar in close proximity to an air ambulance operation. While in town to visit these friends, they let us moochdock at their hangar. During the day, we barely saw any activity from the air rescue company. But at night, on more than one occasion, we heard the helicopter engine rev up and run for quite a long time before taking off. But once the chopper took off, it was gone, and we forgot about it. Later, it had to return to the airport. As it descended to land at the next hangar, it flew about 50 feet over our roof. Tagalong shook in fear. The chuff-chuff-chuff of the chopper blades and the vibration in the trailer made it sound and feel like the helicopter would land right on top of us. Thankfully, it didn’t, and Tagalong escaped unscathed. 4. Flat Tire on the Freeway  You don’t realize how fast things are moving until you stop. I found this to be true when I got stuck while tubing down the Salt River in Arizona one year. We found this again when one of Tagalong’s tires sprung a leak on the freeway en route between Alabama and Tennessee. This was no slow leak. It was a fast one, with rushing air sound effects and all. We pulled over and considered trying to put the spare tire on, but the flat tire faced the freeway. We didn’t want to risk getting hit by a vehicle whizzing by. Plus, we were already unlevel on the shoulder. Jacking up the trailer in that position could have resulted in its loss. Realizing we were about 1 mile away from a truck stop, we decided to nurse the trailer along, putting all the weight of the driver’s side on one tire to reach a safer area to address the issue. We made it, and Bob succeeded in changing the flat. We replaced all four trailer tires at our next destination, grateful for a tire pressure monitoring system (TPMS) that saved the day. 3. Tornado Warning  When a 42-foot fifth wheel and a nearly 22-foot truck are all you own, the threat of a tornado can be incredibly more daunting than when you have a bricks-and-sticks house. A high-wind storm of that nature can also do a lot more damage to a smaller, portable home. So, when we were awakened by a tornado warning in southwestern Michigan, we knew we better seek shelter. We were moochdocking at my cousin’s farm at the time and thankfully had a place to go, complete with a basement. Had we been somewhere on our own, the situation could have been even scarier. 2. Precarious Parking Spot  Being able to park at the homes of friends and family allows us opportunities to catch up with loved ones. But not all friends’ and family’s properties are Tagalong-friendly. Our daughter, Megan, who lives in Tennessee, offered to let us moochdock. She has two nice long driveways, which meant our trailer wouldn’t be in her or Sydney’s way. But because they live in a hilly area, neither of their driveways is level. We succeeded in getting our rig parked and set up, thanks to Megan helping to lift some low-hanging branches and electrical wires out of the way. Because the driveway is perched on a hill, Tagalong’s auto-level function couldn’t reach true level, leaving us in a precarious predicament and giving us some anxiety. We chocked the wheels better than ever before and gave the coach as many points of contact with the ground as we could — up to 13. We certainly didn’t want our rig to fall down or lurch forward. We survived and lived to tell about it, grateful to Megan and Sydney for letting us stay with them. 1. Narrow Bridge  Encountering narrow bridges is a normal part of traveling across this beautiful country. Bridges are often narrower than the road before and after them. And that’s usually not an issue.
After leaving Traverse City, Michigan, to head to my cousin’s in the southwestern part of the state, we started seeing construction signs. Then we saw a sign that said “9-FT BRIDGE.” Our rig is 8.5 feet wide, which gave us cause for concern. Did we really see that sign correctly? we wondered. Could a bridge really be that narrow? We reasoned there must be a little more wiggle room than that. As we got closer to the bridge, we saw a semi-truck headed our direction. That made us feel better because it had to have come across. The bridge came into view, and it didn’t look like there was any wiggle room. That meant we had only 3 inches to spare on either side of us. Thankfully, Bob was driving at the time. We went slow, and he kept Gulliver and Tagalong right in the middle while I watched in the rearview mirror. We thank God for bringing us through all of these scary moments.  In our second year on the road, we covered nearly 7,000 miles in 30 stops. That’s 1,000 miles less than in 2020 with three extra stays. We added six more states to our map and decreased our average trip distance from 294 miles to 227 miles. That’s largely because of some short trips in the Midwest, where we spent the bulk of our time. Out of 33 weeks on the road, we boondocked with fellow full-time RV family members Tom and Molly for seven — five weeks at the beginning of our trip and two more toward the end. That was a welcome blessing. We continue to enjoy moochdocking and the opportunity it affords to spend quality time with family and friends. We moochdocked at my parents’, our daughter Megan’s, my brother’s, my cousin’s, the home of a friend from high school, and some good friends’ from the Commemorative Air Force. The country is home to some beautiful campgrounds — some better than others — and we frequented a lot more of them this year. We didn’t have much trouble finding places to stay and didn’t plan all that far in advance. Here are some of our favorite places we visited in 2021: Favorite Campground  Narrowing down the most appealing of the 10 campgrounds we patronized is no easy task, but we can easily eliminate two: Traverse City State Park in Traverse City, Michigan (not big rig-friendly) and Rustic Barn Campground and RV Park in Keiler, Wisconsin. Although the latter offered picturesque views of the sunsets, sites for full hookups were on top of each other, making it not worth the price. The spacious Texas state campgrounds welcomed big rigs, and a state park in Louisiana had the same allure — and made for our easiest parking job of all (no, it was not a pull-through). We relished our time at Gladstone Bay Campground in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, where we had beautiful views of Lake Michigan right outside our windows. But our favorite campground for 2021 goes to Thomson Causeway Recreation Area on the Mississippi River in Thomson, Illinois. The tranquil park features four camping loops, most of which include views of the mighty Mississippi. Offering walking trails, historical landmarks, and turtle crossings, the campground is also close to a bike trail that stretches for miles. Favorite Boondocking Stay  Equipped with solar panels and generators, our rig is boondock-ready. We expanded our boondocking repertoire this year to four locations, near:
Due to the wide open nature of the first three areas, our stays there included a lot of wind. But that didn’t deter us. We liked all of the spots for different reasons: desert landscape, rock formations, wildlife, and wooded forests. Our favorite goes to Rock Springs, Wyoming, where we were situated atop a butte overlooking the city. The expansive views and beautiful scenery far outweighed the wind and cold. Favorite Overnight Rest Area  When heading more than 300 to 400 miles to a destination, we tend to cover the distance in two days rather than one. In between, we stay at rest areas and Walmart parking lots. In 2021, we overnighted at rest areas in New Mexico, Alabama, Kentucky, and Utah. Of those stops, our favorite would have to be a rest area near Deming, New Mexico. At most rest stops, we park with the semi-trucks. That was not the case at this one. Set up for overnight camping, it features nicely distanced pull-off spots with lighted pavilions encompassing picnic tables and access to water spigots. Our stay there made for a peaceful night on a lengthy journey, and we got to enjoy a beautiful sunset too. Favorite State  We made the Upper Peninsula of Michigan our ultimate destination for the year and spent three weeks basking in its beauty, history, and uniqueness. After an additional eight weeks in the Lower Peninsula, the state of Michigan wins the award of our favorite, hands-down.
We immersed ourselves in history at the Yankee Air Museum, helped corral cows while visiting my brother and his wife, swam in Lake Michigan in the southwestern part of the state, and reclined on a farm for a fireworks show to celebrate Independence Day, among other things. Our three weeks in the Upper Peninsula are some of our favorite memories. We took a ferry ride to Mackinac Island and explored an old fort and took in picturesque views. We dipped our fingers in Lake Huron and walked and rode our bikes along Lake Michigan. And, we bundled up in 50-ish degree weather and ventured out on frigid Lake Superior for a pontoon boat ride. We intentionally headed to the U.P. in early May to avoid bugs. That also helped us avoid tourists. Sure, we had to brave cold weather, but we had a super enjoyable time nonetheless.  After our run-in with the authorities in northern Arizona, we relocated to the greater Phoenix area so Bob could pitch in on the annual heavy maintenance for the B-25 WWII bomber at the Commemorative Air Force. Being in the Valley of the Sun also provides ample opportunity to catch up with family and friends in the area. Normally, when we set up the trailer, we get it situated and then press a button for it to magically auto-level itself. We did that like normal, but we kept getting an error. Tagalong would start to level but would quit before reaching that point. So, we tried again. And again. And again. We had stayed at the same RV park last year and not encountered this problem. We couldn’t figure out why Tagalong couldn’t get his equilibrium. The Doctor Is In After two hours of the 90-degree sun beating on us, leaving us dehydrated, we finally enlisted the help of a park host. He recommended we give the leveling motors a rest and then slowly raise the trailer’s front legs, a little bit at a time. To do that, we needed to isolate the controls for the six stabilizing jacks. Our Lippert Components auto leveling system has buttons for up, down, auto-level, retract all, and hitch height. The up and down buttons only control the front two stabilizers. A phone app lets us control the back and middle sets as well. But we needed even more control in this situation. Bob crawled inside the storage compartment we affectionately call the cellar and played with the leveling system wires to get the rig to do what we wanted. We used a level to manually bring the trailer to a level state inch by inch. Much to our surprise, it worked.  Things Aren’t Always as They Appear
Relieved, we considered the job done and set up, connecting to electric, water, and sewer. When we went to open our stairs to get inside the rig, they hit the door frame, indicating we weren’t quite as level as we thought. The slideouts also resisted as we pushed them open. And, from the road, the trailer looked off side to side. After the fiasco we had gone through to set up our rig in this location, we decided to leave it. After a few days like that, however, Bob worked on getting Tagalong more accurately level. And he succeeded in less than a half hour’s time — and even reprogrammed the Lippert system to know what level is. Now, the trailer looks and feels level. We learned something vital in the process. Apparently, the nose of the trailer is supposed to be higher than the tail before attempting the auto-level feature. This came as news to us as there have been a number of times we didn’t follow that practice. Now we know. Decisions, Decisions Wanting our leveling challenges to be completely behind us, we face a dilemma:
Relocating every week or two makes for a lot of ups and downs for the jacks and their motors. Do we want to risk not being able to get level while boondocking in the middle of nowhere next year? Our present location affords us the opportunity to receive a package of parts and the time to do the work to change out the motors and jacks. Bob has the mechanical know-how to complete the job. Perhaps that’s what we should do. The verdict is still out. For now, we’re happy Tagalong is over his vertigo.  If something seems too good to be true, it probably is. That truth should have been enough to clue us in when we decided to set up camp in a parking area near an off-highway vehicle (OHV) trail in a national forest in northern Arizona. But it wasn’t. We had scouted other potential camping spots in the area, but because we arrived on a rainy day, most were muddy. We didn’t want to risk getting stuck again. After searching for and not finding any no camping signs in the OHV staging lot, we set up Tagalong in the deserted area. Its gravel-topped, mostly level surface offered a welcome alternative to the muddy spots.  A Knock at the Door We experienced two days and two nights with no problems, other than a few cows inspecting our digs on their way to the rain-made water holes near us. Then on the third day, a Game and Fish truck arrived. It stopped at the bulletin board we had examined for no camping signs, so we didn’t think much of it. We had seen other cars pull up to the bulletin board too. The game warden proceeded to another area a few yards away, where a vertical white “sign” stood. From there, he relocated to park directly in front of our rig. Then, a rap on our door announced his presence. The officer informed us we couldn’t camp in that location.  Bob explained that we didn’t see any signs stating we couldn’t. The officer pointed out a very faded one standing at the other end of the parking area — not near the prominent bulletin board full of pertinent information. He and Bob had a cordial conversation about trailers and hunting, and the officer graciously gave us until the next morning to find a new campsite.  On the Hunt We closed Tagalong’s slideouts and hopped in Gulliver to scout a new location. The game warden had told us about some good spots on the other side of town, about a half hour away, that would have room for our big rig and offer the cell service needed for me to work successfully. We checked them out and seriously considered relocating to that area. As we headed back to Tagalong, we decided to search more in the vicinity where we had already been parked. After all, it was closer to our longtime family friends, Neil and Leanna, who were the main reason we were in the area at all. To move to the other side of town would kind of defeat the purpose of our stay there. We drove down another forest road and found a decent site, absent of no camping signs, that looked promising. But once again, it seemed too good to be true. We realized that since we would be in a pullout area off the road, we would still technically be on the road. And we didn’t want to get another visit from the game and fish officer, even though he was very nice. So, we explored another site a short distance from Tagalong’s current location. Ironically, it was the first spot Neil and Leanna had shown us when we arrived in their neck of the woods. That day, the site had been quite muddy — and occupied by cows. This day, however, the sun had been out and dried much of the mud. We hooked up Gulliver to Tagalong and relocated to the spot, thankful to still be camping for free. (A state campground in the area wanted $70 per night.)  Camping with the Cows Ear-tagged cows roam the Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest in northern Arizona. They wander around, grazing on plant life, drinking from puddles, and chilling in fields. Evidently, we had crowded their territory when we set up our second campsite. And they let us know. I watched them through our bedroom window as a couple of them rubbed their heads on Gulliver’s frame, looking for itch relief. When Bob heard they were near the truck, he opened the trailer door, and they bolted. He shooed the stragglers away to discourage them from hanging out with us. The next morning, I spotted eight cows a few yards from our front door. When I opened the door to deter them from lingering, they just stared at me. As soon as I closed the door, they went back to their grazing. And then they moseyed on.  The cows were harmless, and we got along just fine. Their presence added to the wilderness ambiance of the site, which was farther off the main road and much quieter as a result. We were able to take advantage of hiking trails in the area and run our generators to charge our batteries without annoying anyone.
Although it got off to a rough start, our first solo boondocking experience in Tagalong, without Tom and Molly, turned out great.  Our RV travels have afforded us lots of beautiful scenery and landscapes, from deserts and caverns to ranches and farmlands to forests, lakes, and prairies. One thing we don’t tend to see a lot of is rock formations — well, at least we hadn’t until our trek west. Fellow full-time RVer family members Tom and Molly met us in Iowa, and we formed a caravan. They had boondocked in picturesque areas before, and we welcomed their experience as the only other boondocking we had done had been with them. Badlands National Park  Named “bad lands” in both Lakotan and French for its difficulty to cross, Badlands National Park near Rapid City, South Dakota, stretches across 244,000 acres and houses some of the most unique geological formations you might ever see. Driving through the park — which you can do in about an hour without stopping — can leave you feeling as if you’re in a dystopian or apocalyptic movie set. Jagged limestone and sandstone peaks rise from the ground, lined with browns and pinks. As you keep driving, you come across some yellow mounds, strikingly different from the other rock formations as they’re rounded and display yellows, greens, and pinks.  The extraordinary landscape draws 1 million visitors per year, and it offers much in return. You can spend hours there photographing the landscape, hiking, seeing the scenery change as the sun hits it differently, and watching the wildlife. Bison, bighorn sheep, pronghorns, and prairie dogs roam the area — and seemingly pose for photographs to make your visit that much more rewarding. Mount Rushmore While boondocking near the Badlands, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit the landmark that gives South Dakota its identity as the Mount Rushmore State. The presidents etched in this iconic monument represent the country’s birth, growth, development, and preservation. It took 14 years to complete and is quite a sight to behold.  An avenue of flags leads visitors to the viewing area and amphitheater for a closer look at the granite sculpture. You’ll find flags for all 50 United States, the District of Columbia, and the U.S. territories and commonwealths of American Samoa, Guam, the Northern Mariana Islands, Puerto Rico, and the Virgin Islands. We would have liked to have visited the Sculptor’s Studio while we were there to learn more about the creation of the monument, but it was closed at that time. Wyoming As our caravan ventured farther west, the plains of Wyoming gave way to more rock formations. We boondocked on a mountain near Rock Springs, where we had an expansive view overlooking the city and I-80 below. Getting there took us over the best-maintained dirt road we’ve ever seen and presented various rock formations along the way. Utah Tom and Molly lingered in Wyoming while we traversed south. We decided to avoid the interstates and take the more scenic route. It took us along mountainsides dotted with oranges and reds in acknowledgment of the changing seasons and skirted Utah Lake, where boaters and windsurfers enjoyed their sports in the sun. Staying to the east of the state brought us close to Arches National Park and through the beautiful red rocks of Moab. We spent a night in the small town of Bluff, a jumping-off point for both the Four Corners area and Monument Valley, among other geological wonders. Gulliver led us to scenic Monument Valley, with its rising red-sand formations that left us in awe. God is an amazing artist, and we’re thankful we were able to see such beauty on our journey.
 Every summer, Bob and I go on tour with the CAF Airbase Arizona B-25 “Maid in the Shade.” Bob serves as a flight crew chief, and I contribute as a ride coordinator and flight loadmaster. Each tour takes us to various places across the country and even into Canada. This year took Bob to Indiana and Illinois and both of us to Missouri and Oklahoma. But we spent most of our time in Missouri. On every B-25 tour, we work long hours to fulfill the Commemorative Air Force mission to honor, educate, and inspire. When the plane is on the ground, we’re open for tours from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. On the weekends, we sell rides in the plane in the mornings and then open for static tours on the ground after, again until 6 p.m. It’s a rewarding, completely volunteer effort, and we’re honored to be part of it. This year’s tour brought us many firsts. Steam Locomotive  While flying weekend passenger rides in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, Bob and the two pilots spotted a locomotive from the air that caught their attention. The B-25 was built to take out trains and other forms of transportation. In fact, our plane flew 15 bombing missions during WWII, and most of them were to destroy railroad bridges. Upon landing the last passenger flight for that day, Bob and the two pilots hopped into a vehicle and drove off to find the train they had seen. It turned out the Union Pacific Railroad’s Big Boy No. 4014, the world’s largest and most powerful steam locomotive, was on tour through 10 states, and we happened to be in the right place at the right time. The WWII era steam train was one of 25 that could carry up to 56,000 pounds of coal and cruise at up to 80 mph. Starting in 2016, after 55 years of lying dormant, No. 4014 underwent a three-year restoration, including converting it from a steam engine to burn No. 5 fuel oil. Today, it’s the only operational Big Boy left. Amusement Park-Size Store Because of our busy tour schedule, we don’t get a lot of time off. We were blessed to have a window of opportunity to do a little exploring in Springfield, Missouri, the home of Bass Pro Shops. We couldn’t pass up the opportunity to visit the “Granddaddy of All Outdoor Stores,” which houses three museums and a whole lot more — and is in an expansive complex that also includes the Bass Pro Shops Catalog Outlet store. One museum is dedicated to the humble beginnings of the enterprise giant. Another is a rifle museum. But the most prominent is the Wonders of Wildlife National Museum and Aquarium, which features 35,000 live fish, reptiles, mammals, and birds and is said to be larger than the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. We wanted to tour the wildlife museum but didn’t have the three to fours needed to do it justice, so we’ll have to go back another time with Gulliver and Tagalong when we can explore Branson too. Catching Rolls If you want a truly unique experience in Springfield, you’ll want to head to Lambert’s Cafe. Known as the “home of throwed rolls,” the restaurant provides a rustic experience in a fun atmosphere. Wait staff walk up and down the aisles between tables to dump a spoonful of fried okra on a napkin for you to enjoy. A roll tosser flings hot rolls at anyone who wants them. All you have to do is catch them. Once you order and receive your food, more wait staff traverse the aisles to deliver pass-arounds of fried potatoes, macaroni and cheese, black-eyed peas, and other additions to your plate. Lambert’s motto is “Come hungry, leave full & hopefully have a laugh or two,” and they mean it. We and the rest of our B-25 crew certainly left full. Other Firsts In addition to those extraordinary encounters, we had our first evening flight on the B-25 as we had to dodge bad weather in Cape Girardeau and Springfield. That led to another first: seeing a rainbow from the air.  A torrential rainstorm in Springfield trapped us and the rest of the crew in the B-25 trailer, still another first. Fortunately, the guys had secured rain covers on the aircraft just in time. After about a half hour, we were able to escape our shelter and head to our hotel for the evening.  Our favorite experience, and the main reason we do what we do with the B-25, was a visit from a WWII veteran who said seeing our plane was “the best day of my life.” Ruben Olson was a heavy equipment mechanic on B-24 Liberators from 1943 to 1945 and gladly shared about his experiences. You’d never guess he’s 96 if you saw him dash up the ladders to see inside the B-25. We’re not sure who was more honored by the encounter: Olson or our crew.  |
AuthorThis is the travel blog of Bob and Lana Gates and our truck, Gulliver, and fifth wheel, Tagalong. We live on the road full time, enjoying all the adventures that come our way. Archives
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