I think Sultan and I took a trip this past summer….. Yes, I am almost sure we did. At least, I have a bunch of pictures in a folder labeled “Southeast States, Summer 2018”. If it were not for these pictures…. You would not be reading this blog.

If you read the blog of last summer, you might remember that I said it was the worst summer of my entire life…..because of all the physical problems I endured.

I could say the same about this past summer, too. But for vastly different reasons.

For the past several years…… enough years that most people had begun sort of chuckle tolerantly when I would bring it up….. I have been talking about moving from my house in Ozawkie Township to Topeka. And, despite what a lot of people had come to think, it was not merely idle chatter. Moving from a rural area thirty miles from the nearest hospital….and my doctors….and family members….and my church……and shopping…..and recreation….. to Topeka, where all of these are located, made good sense. It was a logical decision….a well-considered course of action. It just took a while for me to make that final decision….to take action…..to make it possible. You can read all about it in the previous blog.

Sultan, my faithful summer companion….and my future cardiologist….arrived the last part of May. He thought he was coming to spend several carefree weeks relaxing and resting in the peaceful environs of the Darrah Ranch……and not to spend his total vacation fully immersed in a quagmire of moving to Topeka. Well….No…. To be truthful, he did know that I was moving; and he did come willingly….and even enthusiastically….to help me move. And, why not? He was one of the major forces behind my final decision to move.

 

 

 

 

By the time he arrived, I was already deep into the process of packing my belongings; Maybe not so much packing as sorting stuff out…throwing stuff away…setting aside stuff to be donated to various organizations. It is hard, intensive work….but we thought we had it under control. After all…. I was going to hire a moving company to do the bulk of the moving….

What could go wrong? We pack the stuff…. The moving company would move it….And we would unpack it…..   What could go wrong?  Well….. Nothing.   Or EVERYTHING  if, like I did, hire an incompetent, bungling, unprofessional moving company.  But….. Maybe more about that in another blog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We…or more accurately, I…had planned a 15 day trip through the Southeastern States. The trip would take us through 17 states. This trip would mean that I would have been in all 50 states….completing a long-held ambition of mine. And, Sultan would be adding 17 more states to the rapidly growing roster of states that he has visited. I had long since drawn up an itinerary that we would follow; I had already reserved the campgrounds and motels; and a rental car was already waiting for us. Literally, everything was taken care of…like it usually is when I plan a trip. All we had to do was pack our stuff….get into the car….and be on our way.

All this went smoothly. For me, this is no problem. I like to plan. I am good at it. So, bright and early on the morning of Sunday, June 10, we locked the house, got into the car….and took off on our adventure.

There were a couple details that had not been resolved yet…details involved with the new house. But, no big deal, I thought. I will take care of them along the way. Reserving a moving van; purchasing and arranging the installation of two stair lifts; arranging to have electricity, water, cable, telephone, etc….hooked up. Sometimes things that appear to be easy….routine…end up being complicated and time consuming. This was definitely the case. I spent far too much time on my cell phone dealing with “complicated” issues….issues which should have taken 5-minute, routine transactions.

Another issue that definitely caught us by surprise….and it should not have….was the amount of money require to do…. Well, just about anything in the South. Even New York City is a poor-man’s bargain in comparison to what it costs to visit tourist attractions in the South….Opry Land, Kennedy Space Center, Vanderbilt Mansion, Ft. Sumpter, etc…. With some research…and some sacrifice…we were able to salvage our trip and substitute less expensive, but probably equally as good, attractions.

But… By far the most important factor contributing to my “amnesia” of the trip is just sheer time. The trip took place in June. Now it is the middle of December…Christmas is just around the corner. A lot of water has flowed under the bridge…specifically a difficult, time-consuming and physically and mentally demanding move; what were once vivid memories are now fleeting recollections lost in the fog of time. That is why this blog is going to be different from the previous blogs. Here is am going to rely on pictures to reconstruct and recapture the events and experiences of our trip.

So…. Come along. We are heading down to the Southeastern States….to Dixie Land…. “…where old times there are not forgotten….”

DEPARTURE

On Saturday, the frantic moving preparations sort of came to a screeching halt. We turned our attention to the trip. The rest of the packing could…would…wait until we returned. This was the first time Sultan had seen what goes into packing. And, it is not something to be taken lightly. We had more or less divided up our nights between staying in motels and camping. If we had stayed in hotels the entire trip, packing would have been minimal. Just throw enough clothing into a suitcase….and head out.

Camping….even camping for one or two nights…changes the entire picture. From simple to complicated. I have developed an accurate…and exhaustive…list of essential equipment that we must take with us, if we plan to camp. And, the choice is pretty simple: If we don’t take it, and we need it…. We have to buy it along the way. Since we have limited funds in the first place: We pack it. Not only our clothing….but blankets, sheets, pillows, cooking utensils, food, paper plates, lawn chairs, barbecue equipment….not to mention laptops, maps, first aid equipment, medicine (for me), breathing machine (also for me), cameras….etc., etc…..

If you haven’t done this before… and if you think it something you do in 5 minutes…try it sometime. And, if you finish all this in less than two or three hours….then I would be willing to bet that you were forced to stop and buy some of it along the way. Or you were miserable for most of your trip.

So… I got the list, and we started down it…checking each item off as we got it. Everything was placed in the front room…somewhere…until literally everything was crossed off the list. Then…and only then…did we start putting the stuff into the car. We have done it enough times that we pretty well know where each item will fit most conveniently.

Of course, we had to pick up the rental car at the appointed time. That, of course, meant a trip to Topeka. I suppose we could have gotten it on Friday…but we would also have to pay an extra day in rental fees. If you are rich…or if you have extra money…that is no doubt a good thing to do. Unfortunately… We are not rich. Since I am a member of the Avis rewards club, I am able to reserve a car online…and simply show my driver’s license and ID…get the key and drive off. It is free….and it saves a great deal of time, too. The people at the Avis rental agency can readily see that I have previously rented cars from them several times…and picking up the car is relatively hassle-free.

Unfortunately, driving the car home….and driving it back to the rental agency… are the only times I got an opportunity to drive the car. Sultan became the more or less self-appointed driver for the remainder of the trip….albeit illegally!

With a minimum of wasted time, we drove back home to proceed with the aforementioned packing process.

 

 

 

 

Sultan went running… We ate a healthy, if not delicious, supper at Subway in Meriden….went to bed…..and dreamed of the trip upon which we were about to embark.

At 7:10 Sunday morning…only 10 minutes late…a miracle by our standards…we were in the rental car heading for Nashville.

NASHVILLE

We were eager travelers, as always…spending our time talking, laughing…answering questions from one of our many “books of questions”. Our first camping stop was in Benton, Illinois…409 miles from The Ranch. Nothing memorable to say about that. When we camp, we camp exclusively as KOA Kampgrounds. They are clean, well-organized, safe…. And, probably most important of all: I belong to the KOA savers club, and I get a 10% discount on each campground and points that accumulate toward a free night.

The next night…Monday night…we camped in Bowling Green, Kentucky. That is only a 320 mile trip…and only 67 miles from Nashville. Every time I look at that, I am puzzled. Why didn’t we simply drive on into Nashville. It is only 67 miles away. I am still questioning my judgment on that decision.

 

 

 

 

The trip to Nashville took a little more than an hour. The original plan was for us to see my great-nephew and spend some time with him. As our luck would have it…and I should not be surprised…he was at the airport at the exact hour we arrived, heading toward Hong Kong to attend some sort of conference. Oh well… On to Plan B. Except there really wasn’t a Plan B. Luckily…obsessively, maybe…I had already looked on the Internet and had found some possible places we could visit…with or without my great-nephew.

 

 

 

 

 

It was much too early to check into our motel room, so we had no other choice except to do something….anything… Of course, the first thing we did was check on Opry Land. Is there some other reason a person would drive all the way to Nashville? I like country music, especially old country music, and an hour or so in the Opry Land Museum would have been an interesting and exciting experience. For me, at least. Maybe not for Sultan! Country music means nothing to him… Maybe Desert Music, but not Country Music. But, Sultan is polite, and he would have definitely pretended to enjoy it! Of course, he knows Willie Nelson, and John Denver, and Dolly Parton… How can he be around me and not know them? When we checked to see how much it would cost for admission, our eyes got wide; our breathing got short; and oxygen supply dropped to about zero. It cost $50.00! I immediately felt my love for country music fading into the distance. OK…Strike that off the list.

Both of us like to visit art museums and galleries. Fortunately, Nashville has ONE…The Frist Museum. I don’t remember how much it cost to get in the place…but it was definitely less than $50.00. We were probably lucky to find an art museum in Nashville. When you think of Nashville, I doubt if “Art Galleries” is the first thing that pops into your consciousness. People don’t travel all the way to Music City to look at art….unless pictures of country music stars can be classified as art.

 

 

 

 

At any rate, the Frist Art Museum seems to be the most prominent art venue in Nashville, if not the only one. It is definitely not on the same level as the Museum of Modern Art….or even the Kemper Art Museum in good old Kansas City. It does, however have a respectable display…and whatever we paid, it was no doubt worth the price. Its art tends to emphasize 3-D objects. At least, those were the most prominent on the day Sultan and I were there. Although, we enjoyed the art that was displayed….and we found it to be rather interesting…I would not be stating the truth if I said it was one of the best art museums or galleries I have visited. 3-D art is not my favorite kind of art….and a lot of it seems to be “forced” or self-conscious. But, we spent a pleasant hour or so wandering around, taking it all in….and it was time well spent, we both agreed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Parthenon, our second stop of the day, is probably more well-known in Nashville….and certainly more popular and much better attended. I have a feeling that most of the people whom we saw there on that day probably had no idea what the Parthenon was….or is. It is very heavily promoted in guidebooks, not to mention billboards….so obviously it was one of “the places” to take a look at after you have spent the $50.00 at Opry Land and still have a half day to fill.

The Parthenon is a full-scale replica of the original Parthenon in Athens…. That is in Greece, in case you are wondering… It was constructed in the 1897 as part of the Tennessee Centennial Exposition…in a large public park just west of downtown Nashville. There is no doubt that it is an impressive structure. Today its main function is as an art museum….and its art collection…which is constantly rotating…is much more impressive that the art found in the Frist Museum…in my opinion….and also Sultan’s opinion. (And what can be more definitive that that?) It is worth the admission price….$6.50 for Sultan and $4.50 for me. The main attraction inside the Parthenon building is the 42 feet tall statue of Athena..a Greek goddess…who is dead now, I think! There were dozens of tourists standing around, milling around….looking at the statue, taking pictures. Somehow I doubt if more than two or three of them had any clue who she was. But, that is what vacations are for. And, Nashville is a lot closer than Athens!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The final tourist venue of the day was “The Hermitage”….Andrew Jackson’s family home…at least, after he had left the Presidency. It is located a few miles outside of downtown Nashville. Along with his home, there is a large museum, plus a few slave houses and a smokehouse that are available to tourists look at.

Supposedly, The Hermitage is the best preserved and most historically accurate of Presidential homes. The home is impressive. We stood in line…in the hot sun…for probably 30 or 45 minutes before our group was ushered into the house. In the meantime, everybody was standing, oblivious….looking at their cell phones. We were not allowed to take pictures inside the house, but I can verify that it is of suitable quality for an ex-President and a wealthy plantation owner….although I really doubt if Andrew Jackson would have been at all interested in visiting the Parthenon…or in the statue of Athena.

 

 

 

 

The house has two stories….and no elevator. I was only able to see the first floor. I wandered around outside while Sultan took a look at the second floor. Outside…on the back of the house….is a wide veranda. I can visualize old Andrew sitting there, a drink in his hand, spinning tall tales with his guests….while keeping an eye on his slaves. At the peak, Jackson owned 137 slaves. For all his democratic leanings and philosophy, the implication of owning slaves must not have occurred to him as being a bit ironic. But, according to reports, he was a “benevolent” slave owner, if that makes any difference. Jackson owned in excess of 1000 acres….a cotton plantation…and I can imagine that he thought more in terms of economic necessity than democratic ideals.

 

 

 

 

One novel feature…which I suppose was not so novel during the time Jackson lived there….was the kitchen that was completely separated from the rest of the house. I can imagine his household slaves used wood or coal fire to prepare the food….especially if the microwave oven was out of order.

 

 

 

 

The museum, which we visited first, was more or less interesting and contained a fairly complete documentation of his life and Presidency.

 

 

 

 

As evening rapidly approached, we began to search for our motel. The name of the motel was Fiddler’s Inn. It is located in a desirable setting….just down the street from Opry Land, less than a block from the “museums” of several country stars, including Willie Nelson. The pictures online looked promising….and the price was reasonable. The price should have been my first clue! Because Nothing is reasonable in Nashville. This is a place for which red-neck middle class America saves money for years…..just to come and blow it all in a couple days. Prices…. They mean nothing. This is living a dream. Who cares how much it costs? They can go back home and say they have been to the Grand Ole Opry…. To Opry Land…. To the Ryman Auditorium…. Priceless!! Enough stories to tell for years and years to come. Was it worth $1000…. $2000… $3000? Probably…. To them.

Anyway…. When we drove up to our motel…. The Fiddler Motel… Right down the street from Opry Land…. Our first impression was: This place is a dump! We were even more convinced when we saw our “spacious” room. Thank Heavens, it was only for one night. At first glance, the entire motel seemed to be inhabited with questionable characters, hanging around outside the motel, drinking beer and perfectly portraying the role of a true redneck. Oh wait…. They were rednecks. We were also a little apprehensive because all of the rooms opened directly to the outside….the mark of an old motel.

I am convinced that the pictures for the motels….all motels…are taken the first day the motel opens….back in their glory days….and usually have no correlation to what they actually look like today. We made it through the night….but were eager to move on to bigger and better things. Even though the Willie Nelson Museum was located in the same block as the motel, we passed it up…. It probably cost $50.00…and we were not in the mood to stick around find out. I am pretty sure we saw “the big three” attractions in Nashville….if you take away all of the country music hype. We were ready to see what else Dixie had to offer. So, it was “On the road again….”

ASHEVILLE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We are moving on toward Asheville, South Carolina. What is there to see? Yes… You are right: Nothing. We passed through the states of Kentucky, West Virginia, Virginia and North Carolina. Surely there is something to write about…. After looking at the pictures we took, it looks like the most exciting thing that happened was our opportunities to camp in the KOA Kampgrounds. Eating the food that Sultan prepared is always exciting….and delicious. Along the way, we also added to the number of states that Sultan has traveled to. And, that is pretty exciting, too. One of our goals is to cover as many different states as possible. In a couple more years, Sultan will have traveled in all of the Lower 48 States…. That is pretty impressive for somebody who has been in the USA…and only sporadically lately…for three years. I know people who have probably never been outside the state of Kansas….and they have lived here all their lives. So, even though there were really not very many opportunities…or reasons….to stop for a couple days, we were still having fun, laughing, talking…”seeing things that we may never see again”….or more specifically, that we will ever want to see again.

 

 

 

 

 

We had rather great expectations for Asheville. Number One on our list of places to visit was the Biltmore Mansion, the home of the railroad and steamboat mogul, George Vanderbilt. The mansion is the largest private residence in the U.S.A…..consisting of 250 rooms…plus expansive gardens and lawns.

It was an error on my part…sloppy planning….wishful thinking. For some reason, I had expected the entrance fee to be somewhere around $10.00….or, if we were lucky, even Free. Wow! Was I ever wrong! Sultan and I were shocked when we looked at the entry fee: $75.00! Come on! Seriously….Do people really pay $75.00 to walk through somebody’s house? Even if it does have 250 rooms? Well…. I guess so. But, not us.

Unfortunately, that left a huge gap in our schedule. And, as we were to discover, there is not an over abundance of interesting things to do in Asheville. Good fortune was with us, however. As in Nashville, there seemed to be one art gallery in the city….The Momentum Gallery. We found it downtown, in a rather nondescript store front building. There are supposedly two galleries, according to their website…although we only visited one of them. I am not sure if we even looked for the second site. I also do not remember how much is cost to enter the gallery. I am sure it was not a lot….and maybe it was even free. That is how vividly it stands out in my memory.

Don’t get me wrong. I am pretty sure the gallery was well worth visiting, even though it was a small gallery….and did not require a lot of our time. The Momentum Gallery specializes in modern art, painted by modern day artists….living artists. I can imagine that the paintings…at least some of them….were probably for sale. Photography was not allowed, mostly because it was contemporary art and the art was for sale, I suppose. But, here again, I am not going to swear under oath that this was the case.

 

 

 

 

 

We contentedly spent an hour or so walking through the four or five rooms, looking at the artwork…..and feeling happy and a little lucky that we found a suitable and enjoyable…and much less expensive…substitute activity to spend the morning.

When we left the gallery, it was approaching lunch time, so our thoughts naturally turned to food. After checking the Internet, we came across an Indian buffet which was indeed located within walking distance of the gallery. Lucky, indeed. That meant we did not have to move the car and look for another parking spot. Asheville is busy college town, and like most college towns, parking is not easy to come by.

Asheville is a pleasant town with tree-lined streets, and its downtown area is somewhat reminiscent of downtown Lawrence…friendly for walking and window shopping and simply enjoying the ambiance. It was almost noon, however, and most people were more interested in finding a place to eat than they were in idle, leisure time strolling…..just as we were.

A short walk brought us to the Indian buffet….already crowded with the noontime crowd. Turnover was quick, and we were soon seated in a tight corner of the restaurant…but within easy reach of the buffet line. And, that was the entire purpose of being there, I suppose. As it often is, when we go to a buffet to eat, although it is crowded when we enter…we usually hang around long enough that most of the people have left by the time we finish. And, of course, we were not in a hurry….with no real plan for the afternoon.

The afternoon, however, took an unexpected turn. I was still being bothered by some sort of respiratory problem. Maybe it was a residual hangover from my problems in Colorado, earlier in the year. (No… Not THAT kind of hangover.) Whatever it was, I decided to find a walk-in clinic and get some medical advice. That was easy enough….except it appeared that a dozen or so other people had already decided to seek medical attention. When I entered the clinic, I found that there were several other people waiting….with ailments either real or imagined. It was a long wait. At one point, I even returned to the car to assure Sultan that I was still alive and well….to just to make sure that he did not get tired waiting and drive off without me! But, he was happily…at least, contentedly…watching You Tube videos…and did not seem concerned about the long wait.

Thus…. Before we knew what had happened, the afternoon was over…and we headed back to the campground where Sultan prepared another delicious meal. We started the day with no Plan B….and suddenly, it was over. Who says we can’t improvise?

THE BEACH

On Saturday, June 16, we spent the day driving to Pawley Island, South Carolina. More driving….more talking…more Book of Questions…another state to add to the list.

We checked into our KOA Kampground….and looked forward to spending some time on the beach. Let me tell you now: There is no “beach” to spend time on. I already had premonition about this. On a trip to Florida many years ago, we drove for miles along “the beach”….except, there was no beach. There was no PUBLIC beach is a more accurate statement. Of course, there are hundreds of miles of beach….but the vast majority of it is privately owned….and is not open to the public. It is owned by commercial hotels, condominiums, resorts…whatever….and it available only to paying customers….not the general public. For the most part, if you are not staying at one of the aforementioned commercial establishments, you are out of luck. Fayez and I encountered the same problem on our trip to the East Coast a couple years ago, too. Public beaches are hard to find. There are some available…but you have to know where to find them.

In contrast, during the many trips I have taken to the West Coast over the years, there are hundreds of miles of publicly owned beaches. There are literally hundreds of places to pull over, park, and walk to the beach….and walk along the beach. The East Coast is an entirely different world. Commercialism has taken over. What should rightfully belong to all the people has become the private domain of capitalistic interests.

On Sunday morning, however, we finally asked the clerk in our motel if it was possible to find a public beach. “Yes,” he said, “There is a public beach, but it is not well marked.” He gave us directions…and after searching for about 30 minutes…of retracing our route and trying again…of observing where other people were going….we finally did find our beach. And, the clerk was right: There was no obvious sign point the way. There was only a small pathway leading from a tiny parking lot… The beach was there, obviously, but it was lined for miles with hotels, condos, private rental homes and commercial businesses. The beaches were populated by tourists who had paid the price to stay in one of the commercial enterprises.

This beach was definitely not an isolated, pristine beach: the kind we had become so accustomed to on the West Coast. On the West Coast, we can pretty much choose our beach, pull the car into a pull-over or a parking lot….and walk for miles on sometimes isolated, often breath-taking, spectacular beaches. On the East Coast we had to inquire on a location….and then it took a frustratingly long time to find it….only to find that it had been urbanized, commercialized and pirated by private interests.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spent less than 30 minutes on the beach. There was nothing to do; nowhere to walk, really nothing to see. But…I have to admit: We made a trip to the beach.

CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA

After the thrilling visit to the beach, we set off for Charleston in hope of finding a more economically favorable climate. Charleston is one of the most historic town in the South…if not the U.S.A. It was here…at Ft. Sumpter, just off the coast, that the first shots of the Civil War were fired.

We need not have been surprised that the situation was no different. The entrance fee to Ft. Sumpter was around $25.00 per person…but that did not include the fee for the boat which would take us there…and the boat that would bring us back to the mainland. The total would have come to about $50.00. By this time, we had more or less given up on seeing the famous tourist sites. We were not at all surprised by the high prices, and resigned ourselves to finding alternative ways to pass the time.

 

 

 

 

As I said, Charleston is a city steeped in history….especially Southern history. It was Sunday, and most of the public buildings were closed, but we enjoyed a stroll though the downtown area where old important landmarks still stand. Notable among them is the old Episcopalian Church where two of the men who signed our Constitution are buried: Charles Pinckney and John Rutledge.

Charles Pinckney also served as the ambassador from the U.S.A. to France in the early days of our country. John Rutledge was the governor of South Carolina. A church service was in progress when we arrived, so unfortunately we were not able to go inside. Just down the street is the old City Hall. It was originally constructed as a bank building and was destroyed by fire. After being reconstructed, it has served as Charleston City Hall. Because it was Sunday, the building was closed, also.

 

 

 

 

Luckily, an art gallery is located downtown on the main street. We arrived a little early….as did others, but that gave us an opportunity to sit in their expensive cafe and sample their coffee and pastries before looking though the exhibits.

For a city the size of Charleston….around 135,000 people….and given the fact that art does not seem to be a dominate priority of southern cities, the gallery was actually a fairly interesting place. The Gibbes Gallery displays mostly contemporary art….although not particularly modern or abstract art, although there was some. It features recent or contemporary regional artists who have painted scenes depicting life in the South. Actually, there was a pleasant blend of the two forms of art. Also on display were interesting 3-D art and a few sculptures.

The Gibbes Museum of Art was a pleasant diversion on a Sunday afternoon when almost everything else was closed. When we left, we actually felt like we had visited a real art museum. Like the art museums and galleries we toured in Nashville and Asheville, this art museum was also sparsely attended….although this can probably be attributed to the fact that we were there on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

 

 

 

 

Downtown Asheville is historic… It seems that almost every building has some sort of plaque on it tracing its history back to Colonial or Civil War eras. Somehow I can imagine that most of the buildings have been rebuilt…or extensively refurbished, though. Nevertheless, there is an undeniable charm that surrounds the downtown area and gives it an aura of the “old South”. Time, however, was becoming a factor, so we returned to our car, bid adeau to Charleston and headed for our equally charming KOA Kampground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SULTAN’S BIRTHDAY, GEORGIA, FLORIDA AND NASA SPACE CENTER

Monday, June 18, was probably the most important….and most memorable…day of the trip. As we crossed the border from South Carolina into Georgia, I reached one of my lifetime goals: I have been in every state in the U.S.A. Sultan and I were extra careful to watch for the state sign. And, you can be sure that we stopped and took a picture….several pictures, in fact. By happy chance, there was an ample pull over space for parking the car, and we took full advantage of the moment. No doubt we would have stopped to take pictures even if the sign had been located on an 8-lane highway on a bridge…in rush hour traffic.

 

 

 

 

There is nothing historic or important about the occasion…except to me. Two or three years ago, Fayez and I covered all of the Northeast States. Several years ago…back when I was coaching cross-country and track…I took some kids to Florida to a national AAU track meet. In those two trips we drove through all the southern states except for North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia… So close! Fayez and I had discussed making the trip couple times. I had even planned a trip, complete with motel locations and driving routes. But, each time, Fayez thought that is was more important for him to work in his “lab” than it was to travel during his vacation time. So… Nothing came of the planned trips….and those three states remained out there….just beyond my grasp. It was a happy and exciting day…for me…when we stopped at the Georgia border and took the last pictures of my quest to visit all 50 states.

The other momentous event took place in our motel room in Savannah, Georgia, that evening. Sultan turned 21 years old…and we celebrated this auspicious event with our own mini private party. It wasn’t much…but enough to mark this important event in the life of all American youth. It is not necessary for me to remind American readers of this milestone…. When it is considered, the big “reason” for the importance of this day is: Now the person can legally buy and consume alcoholic beverages! I am not sure why that is so important… But, it is! Citizens of the U.S.A. can vote when they are 18 years old. They can legally make their own decisions when they are 18 years old. They can buy cigarettes when they are 18 years old. They can make their own decision to get married when they are 18 years old. They can own property when they are 18 years old. Maybe it really is that last elusive right….the right to purchase and drink alcohol…that makes this birthday so very memorable and important.

At any rate… Sultan is a Muslim. He does not drink alcohol…and we didn’t that night, either. But…. He was in the U.S.A…and we had to consider all the “What if’s”… So we had our “wild” party in our motel room….a party that featured an ice-cream birthday cake from Dairy Queen…and the gifts which I had brought along to give him. We didn’t even have any party hats or streamers… They were all back in our house…waiting to be moved. The party was over in about fifteen minutes….and we turned our attention back to the trip.

 

 

 

 

Tuesday morning we continued on toward the south….and Florida. That first day I am not sure we had any specific goal in mind, except to reach our campground in Mims, Florida. We had certainly given up any illusion of driving along a beautiful, unspoiled beach…stopping our car on occasion to get out and walk on the beach. As we drove along, looking out at the unremarkable landscape, pondering the fact that Florida is indeed the flattest state in the U.S.A, much to the chagrin of all those people who would like to ascribe that honor to Kansas…or Nebraska….we approached the city of St. Augustine.

 

 

 

 

A light suddenly turned on in my brain. Yeah, that light is getting old and dim…but it still lights up ever now and then. St. Augustine is the oldest city in the country, founded by some Spanish explorers…Ponce de Leon….in 1565. It is the location of the fabled Fountain of Youth…. $30.00 for each of us. We passed it up… I really do not think it actually works. I mean… Look at all the ancient people who live in Florida. And, I am cynical enough to think that any water that comes from the so-called Fountain of Youth is merely city water that comes out of some specially constructed tourist device.

We did, however, stop of the Castillo de San Marcos. This is the oldest masonry fort in the continental United States. Construction began in 1672 while Florida was still part of the Spanish Empire. It served as a major fortification in their control of the continent during the period when Spain controlled most of Central and South America, not to mention the southern part of the USA. The fort changed hands several times throughout its history…being controlled for various periods of time by Spain, England and the USA…before finally becoming a permanent part of our nation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Its massive walls and fortifications are largely still intact. On the lower level, many of the rooms around the perimeter of the fort have been symbolically restored in an attempt to recreate the conditions and its purpose while in the hands of the Spanish….bunk rooms, kitchen, dining room, etc….even a small prison. The massive upper level still contains remnants of the military function of the fort…with its lookout towers and gun turrets facing out toward the ocean, and many old cannons and even cannon balls sitting about.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There seemed to be programs that explained the history and operation of this former fort, but Sultan and I chose to simply wander about on our own, looking into one room after the next, looking at the exhibitions and displays. The hot sun was bearing down upon us, and we frequently sought out these cool rooms for moments of rest. It was an interesting historical site….one which we stumbled upon quite by accident.

During a short drive through the town….trying to find our way back to the highway, actually, we drove past what is reported to be the oldest house in the USA. Another interesting observation as we made our way out of town….and on to our KOA.

The following day… that would have been Wednesday….we set out with high hopes…and the Kennedy Space Center….before heading our car back west toward Kansas. You know… In some ways, I am very naive. I have basically traveled around the world….probably 30 different countries. I had just finished my quest to visit all 50 states…. But, some things still take me by surprise.

I figured that we would have to pay a fee to visit the Kennedy Space Center. A nominal fee…maybe $10 or $15. After all, it is a heavily tax supported government…public….enterprise. We have paid literally billions of dollars to support both its successes and its wasteful excesses. Even now, the space program has more or less been suspended due to its extreme cost….and the lack of public support.

At any rate, we pulled into the parking lot of the Kennedy Space Center with great expectations. It was just after 9:00 in the morning, and the parking lot was already starting to fill up. It seems that no matter where one parks, the walk to the Space Center is long enough to qualify for a day’s exercise.

A quick glance at the admission prices made us stop in our tracks, turn around and head back to the car. The cheapest tour…the basic price…and it didn’t seem to include anything except the right to step inside the door….was $50.00. Actually, that price was cheap in comparison to some of the other tour packages. But, as with many of the other tourist sites in the South, it was simply too expensive for our budget. And, as I alluded to above, I was disappointed that the prices were so expensive….especially considering that it is 100% supported by tax money…. MY money. Oh well… We have both seen the Cosmosphere in Hutchinson…and that is probably a better deal for the money, anyway. We did take a few very generic pictures…and I am surprised that somebody didn’t approach us and demand money for that, too.

HEADING HOME

After the disappointment at Cape Kennedy, we started heading west…inland, toward home…and the daunting, uncertain hassles of moving. Driving through northern Florida is not much more interesting or captivating than driving through western Kansas. Of course, it is a lot greener, but it is still just miles of rather poor farmland and junky little towns….and about every second mile there is some sort of weird church which was formed by some disgruntled members who did not get their way in controlling another church. Or who probably had a disagreement about the meaning of a particular verse in the Bible. All of them end in the name of a mainstream church…Methodist, Baptist, Lutheran…. Somehow, I can picture a non-educated guy calling himself a “pastor” standing in front of a meager group of people on a Sunday morning, shouting and ranting his self-formed…misinformed…”gospel”. And, probably at some point in time, somebody will disagree with him….and go off and form their own “church”…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In any event, my memory starts to go dim and recollections start to fade…. And, even more convincing: There are no pictures. Just the pictures of the state signs: Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas…. And, that is not a good sign coming from a person like me. A person who takes a picture of literally everything!

The single thing that my mind flashes back to is the rain. And, how it did rain! Especially in Louisiana and southeast Arkansas. Torrential amounts of water fell. At times, visibility was reduced to almost zero. Sultan reduced the speed of the car to the point were we were almost crawling along the highway….and we could only hope that the other cars were doing the same thing.

At one point, in northeast east Louisiana, as we were following the Mississippi River northward toward Arkansas, we turned on the radio and listened to weather reports. Reports of flooding were rampant. Visibility was nonexistent. We drove slowly on. There was no happy conversation in the car…no laughing….no joking. Our concentration was on what lay ahead in the unknown fog of the rain.

 

 

 

 

 

Sometimes the rain would simply stop….suddenly and without warning. “Oh, Wow,” we thought with relief. “The rain has finally stopped.” During these breaks in the downpour, we would stop, get out to walk around…and to take pictures of the mighty Mississippi. In one little village, a man who was standing in the doorway of a local motel saw us taking pictures, and same jogging across the highway toward us. “This can’t be good,” I thought. Is he going to tell us we can’t park here? Or tell us that the road is flooded out on up the highway? Or ask us if we are Yankees…and tell us to be out of the state by sundown? But…true to the axiom about Southern hospitality, he simply wanted to say Hello….and asked if we wanted him to take some pictures of us standing together. We did! He also mentioned that he owned the motel….and we were welcome to come stay there any time we were passing through. Not for free, of course…. We would have to pay. He wasn’t that nice!

 

 

 

 

The rain-free interlude did not last. As we followed the Mississippi further to the north, the rain began to fall again….even heavier, if that was possible. At some point, we had the realization that we were no longer going in the right direction. We had missed a turn…no doubt we had missed seeing a sign because of the rain. We carefully turned the car around and began to retrace our route. Sure enough, we had missed a sign. We turned West…the right direction…and continued our journey. We drove perhaps two or three miles, but the rain was beating down upon us…we could see only a few feet in front… we had no idea what lay ahead. As I mentioned earlier, although most people don’t know it… Florida is the flattest state in the U.S.A…..and it is only a few feet above sea level… When the man-made ditches along the highways are full, there is no place for the water to go….except over the highway. And, with the seriously impaired visibility, flooded highways can appear suddenly…out of nowhere.

We made a quick decision. Turn around and drive back to the nearest little town…and wait out the storm. Again we turned the car around…hoping that we would not be hit broadside as we did…and drove four or five miles back to a little town. Fortunately, there was a cafe. What better…and more appropriate time….to eat lunch?

We were not at all surprised to find that there were several other “diners” there, also…waiting for the rain to subside. I can imagine that owners of small cafes like this must be thankful for torrential rain storms like this. It may be the only time their cafe is full of people.

 

 

 

 

We ordered lunch. As we sat, waiting for our food to arrive, a couple ambulances, a fire truck and several state policemen went speeding by, sirens wailing, lights flashing. It was not a good omen. Apparently there had been an accident somewhere up the highway. And it was little wonder, given the fact that nobody should have been out driving in these dangerous conditions. We were fortunate that we had made the decision to turn around…and wait for the rain to stop. It could have been us they were rushing to help.

By the time our food had arrived at our table…and by the time we finished…the rainfall has lessened considerably. When we went outside to get into our car, it was no surprise that the parking lot was partially filled with water. Driving conditions were good enough, however, that we took off again, retracing our route toward Arkansas. A few miles up the highway, just before the junction we had previously driven past in the rain, we came upon the emergency vehicles that had passed the cafe only a short time before, we came upon the emergency vehicles. They were literally fishing a car out of the Mississippi River… A tow truck pulling the car up onto the bank. Yes… We were glad we did not attempt to drive any further in the rain. It could have been Sultan and I that they were dragging out of the Mississippi.

The rain had stopped….or had greatly reduced in its intensity….we made the correct turn onto our highway….and we were headed toward the last stop of our trip. For miles…and even more miles…as we drove along, the fields were covered with water…crops almost submerged. Ditches and culvert were running over. For the next hour or so, the only landscape was water… The rain had done its job…and if its job was flooding the area, it had done its job well. The owner of the cafe said that the area was in need of rain… But, when does some rain become too much rain? I think we found the answer on that Saturday afternoon.

We stopped in Fayeteville, Arkansas, for the night. I had again chosen a Red Roof Inn. We found over the course of our trip that I had selected…quite by random accident…at least three Red Roof Inns. After our second stay in one of these motels, we knew that we had stumbled upon a good choice. I am not sure if I had ever stayed in a Red Roof Inn on previous trips. But, I am certain that this will be my motel of choice in the future. Both Sultan and I found them to be comfortable, well-lighted, convenient and affordable. That is a combination that we were not accustomed to encountering. On our next trip, don’t be surprised if you see a lot of Red Roof Inns. In fact, we will plan our trip around them, if possible.

We have both decided that our days of “camping” have probably come to an end. You know… KOA Kabins beat sleeping in the back of my pickup. Sleeping in the back of my pickup beat sleeping in a sleeping bag in a tent. Sleeping in a tent beat simply rolling out a sleeping bag on the ground….. However, the hassle of packing all the stuff we need for a two or three week trip is simply not worth the effort. We pack the stuff into the our rental car…unload it in the evening at the campground; load it all back up the next morning; unload it the next night….etc…etc… Some campgrounds are excellent. Good lights inside the cabin; good comfortable beds; good Internet connection; good showers. But… Some are not! And, unfortunately it is the NOT’S that influenced our decision to simply stay in an affordable motel. And…I must say… staying in the Red Rood Inns helped influence the final decision.

Our final stop….and one of the most enjoyable stops…was at my cousin’s house in Farmington, Arkansas. Dorothy is 93 years old…and looks and acts like a woman half her age. Over the years, I have taken many of my former foreign exchanges to meet her (and Raymond, her husband, my cousin, who died some years ago). Every one of the people I take to meet her leaves her house impressed and in awe.

She can…and does…tell fascinating, detailed stories that took place in her childhood…and that was a long time ago. She has lived a full life…raised three children…traveled extensively…held a variety of jobs… She has been there and done that. And, she can relive it in vivid detail. The stories and experiences of her past can keep a person captivated for hours. And…she leaves nothing out. She still drives her car…maybe not as far and as often…but she still drives; she gets around. I can recall driving with her when she was in her 80’s….when I was down there with Sebastian, I think. Wow… She could wheel that car in and out of traffic with the best of them.

For twenty years now, we have tried tried to trick her into letting us take her out for lunch. We figured it was only fair. We don’t want her to feel she has to spend time preparing for us…getting meals…and all that stuff. But, she won’t even listen to us. One time…back when I first started having the cardio-vascular problems, I thought I had the perfect excuse…a perfect trap. I told her…very honestly…that I was forced to follow a strict diet, and it would probably work out best if we would simply take her to a buffet…let’s say, the Golden Corral…for lunch. That way I could see the food…and could pick and choose what I thought would be the most healthy and best for my heart. Ah, ha! Perfect excuse. Right? Not quite. When she replied to my letter, she sent four sample menus that she had made…all low salt, low fat, low sugar… She had worked as a nurse…and she knew all about this kind of stuff. So…. Guess what? She prepared us a delicious meal….and we ate in her dining room.

Dorothy is the only person in the entire world to whom I sit down and actually write a letter…NOT an email message. Yes, I write a letter, address an envelope, put a stamp on it, and take it to the post office and mail it. She does not have…and she does not want…a computer. I have offered to give her one of my old computers. Her daughters have made similar offers. But, she doesn’t want one. She does things “the old fashioned way”, I guess.

Anyway, she really likes Sultan. He has been there before. Often I secretly chuckle that maybe I am invisible when we go there together. But, once you have met Sultan… Well, I guess you will understand. Sultan is simply a delightful, bright, sunny, intelligent person…and he seems to cast brightness over a room. No wonder everybody likes him…..

After three or four hours, we knew that we had to get on our way back to the Ranch. And, it would be the final trip that I would make “back to the Ranch” from a trip that I would take.

Yes… It was back home…and back to the joys (in this case…the ordeals) of moving. The trip served as a brief, relaxing interlude of calm before the stress…the headaches….the obstacles…of moving. Back to cleaning up details that I had started via cell phone conversations along the way.

The time Sultan and I spent together was delightful and memorable…as it always is…and we always look forward to “the next time”. But, you have heard the words from the song, “I wish I was in the land of cotton….”? Well… Our new words are, “I’m glad that I not in the land of cotton….”       Again… Been There…Done That….