Sunday, October 25, 2009

More relatives and lots of music.

So what happened next, Carolyn?

Funny you should ask.

We drove through Indiana to General Butler State Park in Kentucky. Again, we arrived after dark. This was not the plan. No one who drives an RV will say this is a good idea. It happens pretty much every time for us. I'm practiced at calling RV parks and saying, "We'll be arriving late . . . is that okay?" They're all really nice about it. But no one comes in after us.

Before we got to the park, we went to Erin's house. Erin is Ross's niece. Her husband Robbie was in South Carolina -- but we got to visit with her, her cute kid Ethan, her sister Tara, along with Tara's cute kid Maddie, and their mom, Diana.

Between Erin's house and General Butler, we drove on the craziest, windiest road in Kentucky. We had split up again -- this time Jane Honda and I were following. Ross and I have radios, so we can communicate . . . I kept telling him I thought 25 mph was plenty fast. Yikes!

Just another adventure!

We met all the same relatives for dinner the next night -- plus Mike, Tara's husband. What a nice bunch of people!

Our next stop was James Powell's house -- Ross's brother-in-law. We stayed in Renfro Valley, Kentucky, that night. No more adventures. (But don't get complacent. Just sayin'.)

We drove to Ross's mom's house in the far northeast Tennesee. We didn't have reservations anywhere, because Butler, Tennessee, isn't near anything -- certainly not an RV park.

The plan was to park in her front yard. (Seems a little odd, doesn't it? Yeah. Hold that thought.)

We unhitched Jane at the bottom of her hill. I'm following Ross. (Feeling a sense of forboding yet? Hearing some horror movie music here?)

He radioed me: "I see a stake in the neighbor's yard. But I'm going in."

The stake was not a problem.

The wet ground however . . . was.

Imagine my dismay, as I watched the back wheels spin in the mud, getting deeper in the mud. I didn't even see the left front tire sink up to the hubcap. Oy.

The good news was that it took only 45 minutes for the guy to come and winch us out. And it was only about $150. Have I mentioned our personal connection to the economic stimulus program? We drive down the road throwing twenties out the window.

AFter that, we parked on the street.

Other than that, it was a pleasant few days in Butler.

Next came the musical portion of our trip. First Nashville and the Grand Ole Opry. Not as corny as it sounds. Even though we're not that into country music.

Then Memphis. We stayed at the Graceland RV Park, just behind the Heartbreak Hotel. Seriously. The Jungle Room isn't as tacky as it sounds.

We visited Beale Street to listen to blues music. That was definitely as fun as it sounds. I could go back there real soon.

We finally drove out of the rain in Oklahoma, on our way to Ross's brother Jack's house in Lawton. Which is where we are now!

I should mention that da boyz have been real troopers through all of this. They are good with being left in the RV when we go out. They were even fine with being left in Jane Honda when we make quick trips to the store or go out to eat when the RV was in the shop.

Which is a good thing, since we bought this RV for them.


Laraine said...

Totally thought of y'all and da boyz this afternoon. I went to the local cheap-gasoline station to fill up, and a guy on a big old BMW touring motorcycle (double luggage pods on the back) pulled slowly in and organized his bike at just the angle he wanted to the pump.
THEN, he assisted the beautiful full-grown white German Shephard sitting across the back passenger seat to climb down, and THEN, he reassured the half-grown white GS pup that was sitting across his lap and the console, and helped her down. Both dogs sat (sphinx pose if doggie yoga has such a thing), side by side, ears up, eyes on master at every moment, quietly, between the bike and the pump, as the old guy went about his getting-out-money and pumping- gas business. I commented on how good his dogs were, and he just grinned and said, 'yup,' as he dealt with the automated payment thingie.

Martha Wharton said...

I love this. It's like reading a stack of old "I Love Lucy" scripts. Only thing missing is a movie star locked in a closet somewhere. Way to go, girl.