Karma Tour to Maine, Part 1

Our fifth wheel had been in the shop even as I was attending the motorcycle rally in Paonia and we had a slew of things needed in order to go on the trip to Maine at the beginning of
August.  New tires, packing and a host of things were needed to meet our target date of August 1, 2018.  Our plan was to meander to Champaign Illinois and visit Carol's family.  Uncle Don is a Lutheran Minister and his dear wife Mar live there.  Uncle Don's daughter, Karen,  lives nearby with her family.

We left Rio Rancho on the 8th of August for an 81 day odyssey across the Continent.  Approximately 9000 miles were traveled and we averaged 10-11 mpg in our Dodge pulling a 36 foot Carriage Cameo.  These are some old pictures of the rig and a look at the front of Red that faithfully pulls the rig.  Onboard were two large dogs, one cat and the two of us.  Never again with the cat but more on that later.  

Our first night out was spent in Trinidad Colorado.  Colorado legalized marijuana for medicinal and recreational use three or four years ago.  Our first night was spent in an RV Park catering to pot tourists much to my chagrin.  The park was an old park, on top of a hill, with a huge radio tower in the middle of it.  It also had a motel with smoking and non-smoking rooms.  The pot shop was just down the street.  Some of the rigs we saw there looked like they had pulled in, set up camp and forgot where they were.  The only issue I had there, besides the huge dog that almost broke the window out in the rig next to us when we walked our dogs, was the sewer hook up which proudly stood 18 inches out of the ground.  Our sewer pipe sits about a foot or less off the ground so the laws of physics were certainly challenged.  As I worked on the rest of the set up and was very frustrated with the sewer connection I discovered the 18 inch pipe had been broken by previous visitors and it slipped out of the ground very smoothly.  Trinidad is a neat little town.  It is the first place you come to after you leave Raton New Mexico and is at the top of a long hill, Raton Pass, on the Colorado side.  Trinidad is on the old Santa Fe Trail and has a population of just under 10,000 hearty souls.  It was a coal mining town and even had Bat Masterson trolling the streets as Marshal about 1882.  Ina Elouise Young may have escaped your notice but she was the first female sports writer and reporter  for the 1908 World Series Baseball Games. Feminists rejoice as another female pioneer has been uncovered!  

United Mine Workers called a strike of 3000 miners after 13 miners were killed in an explosion in 1903.  In 1904 the town burned down followed several months later with a horrific rainstorm taking out bridges, railroads and infrastructure in general.  By 1914 the town had a library, opera house and city hall.  1914 was also the year of a massacre at nearby Ludlow.  The Colorado National Guard and Colorado Fuel and Iron Guards attacked a tent colony of  1200 striking miners with machine guns.  Twenty one miners, wives and children were killed.  John D Rockefeller Jr. was blamed for the attack and did own the mine.  Trinidad came into national prominence again in the 1960's when Dr Stanley Biber performed a sex change operation and it continues till this day under the steady hand of another surgeon.  Trinidad has a declining population and this has been the trend over recent years until the legalization of Marijuana.  Things have picked up with Pot Tourism filling the coffers from neighboring Kansas, New Mexico and Oklahoma.  I don't know what to think of legal marijuana but it is no worse than the Natives having casinos.  Preying on the frailties of mankind seems like a fast way to make a buck and they do make lots of money.

Our next stop, not too many miles away, was in Limon, Colorado.   I have a tradition of stopping in Limon.    When I turned 50 I joined AARP.  I was traveling through Limon on my way to Wisconsin and decided to spend the night there.  I checked into a motel and asked for my AARP discount.  The desk clerk refused to believe I was 50, but after several forms of ID I got my discount.  Will never forget that.  Limon was also our first out of state stop when we initially went full-time in the RV.  I remember driving our Beaver Motorhome up Route 71, bar ditches on either side and the bus, having mechanical issues, swaying from side to side in a deadly dance.  Our initial visit to Limon was back in 1987 when Carol and I rode my old Moto Guzzi across country from North Carolina to New Mexico.  This was just before we were married and she was a good sport.  We stayed at the Limon KOA which is where we stayed this trip.  Limon is a small town of 2000 folks and has roads from all directions converging upon it making it a place for many to pass through.  Limon is known for a lynching in 1900 of a Black Man who confessed to killing an 11 year old white girl.  He was jailed in Denver for his own safety but someone requested he be returned to Limon.  He was burned at the stake by a mob of 300 in the spot he had killed the young girl.  It is a farming community with lots of John Deere equipment observed.

Limon was in our rearview and hello Kansas.  It was hot and the air conditioning in the truck kept us comfortable.  Carol was so excited to be back in the mid-west, having grown up in Nebraska.  She kept telling me which crops we were passing by; sorghum, milo, corn and soy.  She was also enjoying the higher humidity, reminiscing about growing up in such summer surroundings.  We stopped to allow the dogs to have a potty break somewhere in Kansas and left the truck at idle since we were close.  The dogs finished walking us and we were all very pleased the trip was going so well.  Upon returning to the truck we found it locked, seems the cat stepped on the lock button which was our first clue the cat was on a covert sabotage and destroy mission.  Carol's set of extra truck keys were in her purse which was locked inside the truck!  We were in the back lot of a truck stop so I hiked over to the main area and secured the number to a locksmith.  He must have been close, arriving, opening our locked door and getting $50.00 all within 30 minutes.  He had a little bag he inserted between the door and the frame, pumped it up a little and was able to insert a rod to tap the unlock button.  We moved truck keys around so this would never happen again.

Our next stop was in Aullville, Missouri.  It has a quiet, cheap campground within earshot of the interstate.  It was such a nice place we stayed two nights.  It had a very nice cafe down the street, was very green compared to New Mexico and had great sites.  There is no significant history reported although it has a decreasing population, I guess big cities have a way of pulling people in.  We did have a Rib Dinner in a neighboring town called Higginsville.    My only issue was their ribs were so good, they ran out before we got there.  Interestingly Higginsville has a Confederate Memorial Historic Site.  It also had the Confederate Soldiers Home of Missouri which provided refuge to 1600 Civil War Soldiers and their families.  Refuge is a term they used but works.  We did not explore this town of 4651 folks but would be worth the time.  It is off the beaten path. 

Champaign loomed ever closer and our first visit with Uncle Don, Mar, Karen and Dan.  I had spent a summer in a little town near Champaign called Maroa, along the old main route of 51.  If Maroa taught me anything it taught me that people work very hard in the outlying communities, having spent  

time in the hay fields bailing.

Aunt Mar and Cousin Karen

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Clockwise is Carol, Uncle Don, Aunt Mar and Cousin Karen

When we initially arrived near Champaign, Carol had found a very inexpensive campground in a nearby town which turned out to be the backyard of an enterprising retiree.  We pulled up, looked it over and told the gentleman thanks but no thanks.  We did not know where we were going but knew it was not there.  Carol, being the relentless navigator she is, found another spot which looked promising.  She called and we obtained a campsite.  As we were driving to the campground we noticed the buildings looked military.  I thought the folks in Rantoul could have been a bit more creative than to copy functional but uninspired architecture common to the military.  The further we went the more it became apparent this was a closed base.  Having Air Force roots, both Carol and I went down the list of known bases in the area and came up with Chanute AFB.  This base had been Rantoul's neighbor and probably the towns life blood since 1917 when it was built in response to WWI.  It closed in 1993.  Carol as a AF cadet shadowed a Lieutenant at the base during the summer of 1980 for a week, so experienced the base when it was still thriving.  I like to think it was built with horses and closed with F-16's.  The campground was on the old base and we were surrounded by skeleton structures from a generation ago.  Since the closure was in 1993 things such as jets and  missiles were left atop cement and steel pedestals reflecting the mission.  This was to be the first of three large military bases we visited that had been closed within the time of our service, the others being Newport Naval Base, RI and Brunswick Naval Air Station in Brunswick, Maine.

We contacted Uncle Don and set a time to visit with the family.  We were greeted with open arms and were treated so special.  We were able to visit Uncle Don and Mar at their home which was a very nice place.  They had recently downsized and where they are living is easier to maintain and absolutely beautiful.  We also visited Karen and her husband, Dan's house.  A beautiful home with a basement dreams are made of.  Super Bowl fantasy which would be fun to watch the Patriots play, ha.  Carol has had limited contact with her family except for times of distress and two reunions so this was special.  We talked and visited for several days and sadly had to say goodbye.  We spent one extra day to look at the base and relax before hitting the road.  We would like to make this trip again as it was soul nurturing for both of us.

Pioneer, Ohio

Our next stop, an overnight stay, was in Pioneer Ohio.  Pioneer was unremarkable other than it was the first campground where we saw a camper flying the Stars and Bars.  Pioneer was also where we picked up I-90 and began the toll "wars".  You have to understand we live where toll roads do not exist and being charged by the axle, of which we have four between the RV and truck, it was a bit of a shock.  We were able to get a pile of money for the tolls, they do not accept credit cards or any form of plastic, just cash.  Pioneer we will not visit again. 

Niagara Falls

Little Kid Face

Who could travel this distance and be this close to the Falls and not stop?  Aside from that we have two large dogs and a cat with a healthy pair of lungs.  We elected to travel 200 to 300 miles per day as it is hard on the pets and us when you go much further.  We are debating on getting a motorhome, similar to our Beaver when we first started RVing,  in order to have room for our menagerie.  Carol found a delightful campground near Buffalo and of course Niagara Falls.  We are using a travel aid called Passport America.  It costs some money, about $50.00 to join, but in return it lists campgrounds that cost half the normal rate on a space available basis.  We were never turned away however caveat emptor as some of the campgrounds can be stinkers.  The gentleman with his little RV Park in his backyard (Illinois) was a good example.  Generally we found them to be off the beaten track, older and in many instances summer vacation spots for campers who lease a spot for the season.  Some of these sites are titled to the camper, others are leased and can be occupied for the entire year.   In any case we found this most excellent campground near the Falls that is a party spot for the locals. The campground has a band on the weekends and folks roll in with their families and grill burgers, drink beer and socialize with friends.  They even have a Church for those so disposed to attending services on Sunday.  Carol found us an excellent place from which to visit the Falls.

The gardens around the Falls were beautiful

We walked in a big horseshoe and were headed back to the truck.  I really like the old architecture.

Seagull enjoying the view.  Can you imagine living in that building, overlooking the Falls?

Lots and Lots of water to this New Mexico Boy.  This is the view from this apartments and I am sure the Falls are visible.

The conclusion of the tour of Niagara Falls over a beer and pizza.


We must have walked five or six miles during our visit.  As expected it was crowded and bathrooms were clean but full.  The staff were professional and helpful.  I had visited in 1970 and do believe the facilities were upgraded since my visit.  Carol was in awe and I was too but there is a lot of joy in Carol's awe!


AUSTERLITZ,  NEW YORK

Our final stop was at the other end of New York State in a place called Austerlitz.  It is an old town, from 1818, but is beautiful.  The Battle of Austerlitz or Battle of Three Emperors was considered to be one of Napoleon's triumphs for which it is named after.  Three communities were near each other so a decision was made to make one town. A State Senator by the name of Martin Van Buren,later President, who embraced Napoleon, became incensed when a fellow lawmaker had named another town Waterloo.  When the town's name came up for vote Van Buren jumped to his feet calling for Austerlitz to be the new name.  His naming was carried and he was heard to say "An Austerlitz for your Waterloo."  Austerlitz's past turmoils were nothing compared to what we encountered as we were attempting to depart the New York Thruway.  We arrived at the Toll Booth and were presented with a $60.00 bill for our toll fee.  We looked into our pile of money and there was not enough.  We looked in our wallets and we still did not have enough.  I told the Toll Operator we did not have the cash and he said, in disbelief, we do not accept plastic or checks, only cash. This was repeated a few times and the operator got out of his booth and recorded our plate number and presented us with a paper to link online to pay our toll.  Shortly after we were able to access an ATM in order to have a larger pile of money in the center drawer of the truck.  Never in my life would I have expected such a large toll but it was New York.

Carol found a campground from Passport America and navigated us to it.  The campground located near Austerlitz was off the beaten path and like most we paid only $15.00 to $20.00 for the inconvenience of going a few miles out of our way.  
  

This was the view from our front door.  When night falls there is a fountain in the middle of the pond with lights on it.

We remained hooked up to the truck for the night but used the utilities.  Believe it or not we were pretty level.

I had never seen washers and dryers placed out of doors like this but they were across from us and yes we did laundry.  As darkness fell it is the sort of place that sucks light so you lose that sense of luminescence.  As darkness fell, a lady came on a loud speaker and announced the children needed to park their bicycles and for us to be careful in our walks, driving etc..  The loudspeaker reminded me of the campground in the Long, Long Trailer with Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez.  Our dreams were of the next day, to be in New England and in Augusta Maine, our destination.  

AUGUSTA/GARDINER/LITCHFIELD/RICHMOND MAINE

Leaving Austerlitz NY and making our way over to the Massachusetts Turnpike was when we entered New England, Patriots Territory and Red Sox Country.  I used to drive out to Pittsfield on a regular basis to help close and sell a house.  It is a beautiful area being near the Berkshires and the Boston Pops.  We did not stop but it sure brought back memories.  Traffic in New York State and all the way up to Maine became much more congested but flowed well.  Another feature, other than tolls, were distances.  Compared to New Mexico it seemed like we had just entered a State and we're leaving it shortly thereafter.  It felt good to be back in New England and Carol was all eyes.  She navigated us over roads that were foggy memories for me by almost 50 years. I was anxious to see my brother and his beautiful wife Dori.  They live in Litchfield Maine and would be near the campground we would be staying in for a month.  We entered Maine and got to pay more money for the Maine State Turnpike and we did get to get off of it around Portland for awhile.  Carol was just taken by the entire experience.  She would look at the large homes and wonder if they were like mansions and was impressed by their imposing size.  The Portsmouth Bridge was a real thrill and did it bring memories home for me.  Our arrival at the KOA in Richmond Maine was a relief as between summer traffic and the distance we had gone it felt good to end the journey.  I had motorcycle tent camped here in the late 70's and it did look different.  As I recall we were near a pond when I visited then and the campground did not adjoin a pond nowadays.  We were placed in a site that was small and tight for us and the two big dogs.  I did see some other sites that looked more accommodating and I asked to move there and were allowed to do so.  It was very green to our desert accustomed eyes but that made the adventure that much more colorful.  Here is where we settled for the month,

The KOA looked nicely maintained and busy.  It was on the side of a hill and the sites were tiered.  While we were there there was a major rainstorm that did some damage to the infrastructure.  We spent the first night just getting set up and adjusted.  I called my brother, which I was looking forward to, and he came over the next day.  John was born in New Mexico but grew up in Maine, graduating from Morse High School in 1972.  When we were working at Picacho Peak State Park in Arizona I met a one of his classmates working for Parks and Wildlife out there.  John worked for Bath Iron Works building ships and retired from there.  I envied him as he knows everyone in Maine and every back road to drive on.

John and Carol sitting beside the rig on our first full day in Maine.If you look beyond then you can see how the sites were landscaped.  Good park overall but the dog park was at the bottom of the hill and late at night it was fun navigating.

The last time I was in Maine was 1993 and that was to bury my Dad with John.  It was a grim day for us.  John had a shadowbox made to remember him.  He was a World War II vet, was a big man and had a big heart.  I know my life was better knowing him.

Turning 70 is no easy feat, keeping mind and body in one piece over the years,  John, Dori, Carol and birthday boy here went to the Texas Roadhouse in Augusta.  They brought out the saddle and away we went.  It was good to spend it with loving family.  Well that about covers it for part one.  Stay tuned for Part II, it only gets better.