White Line Fever

Pretty much all of us had a dream job in mind when we were growing up.  I remember doing reams of research on becoming an airline hostess.  Of course back then you had to be 21 to get hired and you know I was no good at waiting even then.  So I did a few other things, you know the Navy thing and all, then fell into what feels natural - teaching. 

But some folks have a dream and follow it through for better or for worse.  Case in point: my little brother Ronnie.  From the time he was a little boy and his namesake, my father's brother Ray, set him up in the cab of his semi rig Ronnie was hooked.  That's all he ever talked about growing up.  And as soon as he was out of school he took his first truck driving job and never looked back. 

So has it all been good?  I'm sure it's been a mix of bad and good.  I do recall him coming off the road a time or two and trying his hand at other jobs, but the lure of the road always called him back.  These days we have a few things in common, or should I say a few miles in common.  We both run up and down the same highways although we have a different approach to schedules and reaching destinations. 

When I hit the road I avoid major highways and the interstates if possible because I know all those 18 wheelers like him are in a hurry to make the next pick up or delivery.  And I think it's a long day if I cover 300 miles while he does that much or more before lunch.  He also has to put up with slow drivers, crazy drivers, construction, detours, and whatever else the universe can throw out on the highway in front of him. 

During the recent tornadoes in Oklahoma I saw where truckers and their trucks were thrown off the highway and those that were left on the road had to contend with holding control in wind and baseball sized hail.  Of course I called Ronnie and was thrilled to find him waiting on a load in New Jersey far from the storms. 

One week found him back on I40 running through Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Texas.  We talked a couple of times and tried to find a time he could stop off near where I was in Oklahoma and share a meal and conversation but that darn schedule thing got in the way again.  "Maybe next time, Sis," he told me. 

Was I disappointed?  Well yeah.  I can count on one hand how many times our paths have crossed in the past 5 years.  So how do I feel?  Honored to know my brother is still following his dream.  He never lost sight of it.  He never let it slip away.  And even when it's really tough and he knows there are easier ways to make a living the dream still calls.  And he follows it. 

So happy 55th little brother.  Hope it's a good one for you.  And stop by if you get close to me.

Texas Side Show

Harnessing the winds of the high plains

Since I found myself in the northeastern corner of New Mexico it seemed like a good idea to jog over to Texas.  Not exactly "Amarillo by morning" , but it was close.  In fact, I did get up early the next morning to take a look at Amarillo.  Along the way I got to see some rather interesting sights along the side of the road.  This part of the state is known as the high plains I learned.  Now that I've driven through the constant wind across the plains the reason Clint Eastwood kept that gritty smile in "High Plains Drifter" is a lot clearer to me.  But I did enjoy myself and saw a lot of curious sites.  Hope you enjoy the tour. 



No, not the chicken ranch.  Why would I want to go there?

A favorite stop on the way west of Amarillo was the Cadillac Ranch.  To some this is art.  To others it's just camp.  To me it was just plain a fun stop.  Even at 6:30 in the morning the cars were lined up here and folks were walking over to add their own touches.  Yes, you're invited to bring more paint.  In fact, the paint layers on here measure about 2" thick, but then it's been here since 1974.  Why?  Why not?

As I was leaving the cadillacs and heading back to where I parked my rv I came upon proof that some Texans do have a sense of humor.  There was supposed to be a geocache here to ironically called Psycho, but I never found it. 

If you love Robin Williams you'll love the movie RV

While I do like roadside attractions, I do sometimes get out of the car and go inside if it's interesting.  And the RV museum in Amarillo definitely qualified as interesting.  Of course the museum was free but then I had to talk with an RV salesman and take a look at some models on the sales lot.  I enjoyed the museum but not the sales visit.  Pretty cool stuff there like the bus conversion from the movie "RV". 

But just like all the other good times and good places, it came to an end.  On Sunday morning I hooked up my toad and started driving west on old Route 66.  It's a pretty good road and had no traffic at all so it seemed like a good idea.  And then, just 20 miles west of Vega where I had camped for the weekend, I found the Midway Café.  Yep, you guessed it, a café at the exact halfway point of Route 66.  There's a big sign to mark the spot and even the road itself is marked.  I stopped and went inside to shop.  When I signed the guest book the owner admitted he had just bought the place and moved here from Thompson's Station!  Small world after all. 

Volcano Tour

A volcano in New Mexico?  Yep, that's right.  Don't feel bad if you didn't know it was there.  Neither did I, but when I saw it on the map I had to stop and take a look.  It's actually a national park, and there's a small campground just outside the entrance.  That turned out to be good for me since I got there 30 minutes before the park closed.  Also, after driving up and over the Raton Pass, the steepest drive yet for me in Seeker, I was ready for a rest before climbing up a volcano.  In fact, until this trip the highest climb I'd ever done was over Monteagle - less than half the size of Raton!  Along the way there are signs for bear and elk crossings.  Sorry I was too busy to take pix of those.  But I digress, so let's get on to the volcano.

The park opened the next morning at 8:30 and I was there waiting for the doors to open.

At the peak.  That's Oklahoma
 behind me.

Looking down into the cone.

I figured the earlier and cooler I started the better for the climbing.  Of course there was also a geocache behind the counter which I took the time to stop and sign.  Then it was a short drive up to the parking area near the top.  From there it was just a one mile hike to get to the top of the cone.  Of course it was steep in places but a wonderful accomplishment and a great view from the top.  And of course there was another geocache on top at the point where you can look east and see Black Mesa in western Oklahoma. 

Looking back up the trail toward the car and the volcano.

This guy climbs up there all the time.  No big deal to him.

On the walk down there were views of the trail to the base of the cone which I decided not to do.  By then it was already in the high 90s and I was ready to go down to the base and hike the 2 trails where the other geocaches were hidden.  Kind of a whirlwind tour since I had to get back to the park and pull out by noon or stay another day, and well, there really was nothing else I wanted to do in that area of the state.  But it was a fun tour while it lasted, and I can now add volcano climbing to my list of accomplishments.

Postcard PrettyOr View From The Top

Pike's Peak Cog Railroad train in the yard

I cannot stay long in Colorado.  The place is giving me lockjaw.  That's what happens when you stare out at beauty in every direction and smile so big it makes your jaws hurt.  Well, that's not entirely true since my first 2 hours in the state were spent driving in thick fog.  It was 10:00 in the morning in the middle of July but the fog on the mountain I was crossing over seemed more like an early December morning back home.  Then suddenly I burst through to the top and out popped the sunshine and the views.  I pulled into Colorado Springs and my campground for the week where I hooked up water and electric in record time.  Seems I had left the triple digit temps of Kansas in shorts early that morning without checking the weather in the springs, so I was not dressed for being outside in 59 degree temps.  Brrrrr!!

Once I got inside and changed into a little warmer clothing I made my reservation to ride the cog railroad to the top of Pike's Peak.  I chose the last train of the day because I thought the crowds might be lighter and hoping to see the sun go down from the mountain top.  My assigned seat on the train put me right up front next to the engineer so the views were fabulous.  The seats were three across on my side of the train so I got to meet a nice couple in town on vacation -- from Smyrna, TN.  Seems there is always a Tennessee connection everywhere I go!

Captured on the webcam walking from the train toward a cache

Of course I was comparing the ride in my mind to the cog railroad that Brenda and I rode to the top of Mt. Washington in New Hampshire.  This was so different.  The Pike's Peak cog is the highest cog railroad in the world.  And the cars have a newer feeling than the ones we rode in New Hampshire.  And it took much long since we were going up to over 14,000 ft. this time too.  Along the way the views were spectacular and just like my drive into the state, we broke through the fog at the top for some amazing views.  Naturally there were a couple of geocaches at the top that I had to go find.  The weather was cooler than when we started down below but I was more than warm enough in long pants and a light jacket.

Looking back toward Kansas.  Boy is it flat from here.

  How those folks in shorts stood the cold I don't know.  I was worried I would be too lightheaded on top to go searching for a cache, but it didn't affect me at all until I went inside to use the restroom.  The building was so warm that I almost couldn't stand it.  Had to get back outside to fresh air. 

So all I had to do was go around to the back side and climb up to find the cache.

The next day I drove up toward Denver and then cut back down through some of the mountainsides to find some geocaches and to just gasp in awe at all the beautiful scenery.  Another day of lockjaw.  My fellow geocacher back in Tennessee said the oldest cache in the state, placed in mid 2000, was just 350 feet off the road behind a big rock.  And he was right, except that a big rock in Colorado has a whole different meaning than in Tennessee.


Good thing I didn't see any mountain
lions since the instructions on the
sign were faded out. 

Still, I was able to scramble around behind the rock and climb up to the cache pretty easily.  Maybe I'm part mountain goat after all. 

As beautiful as it was, Colorado was not a place I wanted to stay too long.  The only way I want to see the winter views is via video, although I wouldn't mind being on one of those mountain tops enjoying the views if you could helicopter me in and out.  Until then I will have to point the nose of Horizon Seeker downhill off the mountains which means that as I leave my mirrors are filled with more of that "postcard pretty" view that makes me smile so hard my jaws hurt.  Good bye, Colorado, you beautiful lady.

Thoughts on Leaving Kansas

Just crossed into Mountain Time Zone and across the state line into Colorado.  Only 3 days in Kansas this trip.  A few years ago I took the train. across the southwest and ended up in Kansas City.  I don't remember much about Kansas from that first trip except a lot of grassy fields and lots of straight roads.  Oh, and I did stop to stand on the prairie and gaze out at the wagon ruts of the old Santa Fe Trail.  This trip I learned mostly about the wind.  And when it's 104 outside it's a hot, dry wind.  But just as I was leaving the state I stopped at the Oakley visitor center and found a set of fun facts that were obviously made for kids but I took the set and learned a few more things that I will pass along:

The roads are straight and flat because let's face it, the state is pretty straight and flat.  Very few things out here to go around or over.

I saw a lot of stone post fences which I consider pretty but hadn't given it much thought until I learned that limestone is abundant here on the prairie.  Trees, not so much.

Speaking of fences, most barbed wire fences are 5 strands high, but if you see one that is 7 strands or higher odds are it's to keep the buffalo in.  You see, they are really great jumpers.

 

Speaking of buffalo, it seems they tend to face into the wind unlike cattle that tend to have their backs to the wind, hence a buffalo will often walk into a storm and out of it on the other side while the cattle don't fare so well. 

The wind has been harnessed in Kansas for as long as man as been around to use it.  I saw several modern wind farms out on the prairies as I headed into Dodge City.  About an hour west of Dodge I saw a "wing" yard filled with railroad cars and each car carrying one of those giant wings (I guess they're really vanes but wings sounds more poetic don't you think).  But even some of  the early settlers crossing the prairie put the wind to use by making a type of sail from the cover on their wagons.  I'm sure there was enough wind to get them across but I think the horses and oxen would have had trouble keeping up. 

 

Buffalo Bill Cody was not from Kansas nor did he die and get buried here.  But he has a lovely
monument to his hunting skills on Highway 83 in Oakley.  Their claim to fame is that on this spot Bill Cody was given the nickname of Buffalo Bill after a hunting competition.  Who are we to argue the fact?

 

Well, so long Kansas.  Hello Colorado!

Getting the Heck Out of Dodge

Yep, I know the most direct route to New Mexico from Oklahoma is straight across 40 west.  But where would the fun be in that?  And if I did go straight from point A to point B there would be people looking for the pods in the basement if you get my drift. Which explains how I come to be in Dodge City.  Well, sorta.  Well, do I need to explain anyway?  I mean, well, it's me, ya know?

So since I was in the neighborhood I thought I'd stop in for a day or two and give my respects to Sheriff Earp.   And there he was, right on Main St. (aka Wyatt Earp Blvd.) as I drove into town.  I went looking for him on Boot Hill the next day and discovered two things: the hill is still there but the original graves were moved in 1890 and a school was built on top of the hill (wouldn't you want to teach there?) which later became the local police station.  Sadly the building on the hill is abandoned now and in neglect as well as the few statues that remain.  As for Wyatt, I learned that he's buried in a Jewish cemetery in California.  So much for romantic ideas about the west. 


This morning I took a stroll along Gunsmoke Avenue and yes, there are reminders everywhere of that long running TV show.  There's a Long Branch Saloon (and historically there really was one here) in the pseudo-western town near the museum.  Milburn Stone, Amanda Blake, Ken Curtis, and of course James Arness all have stops on the walking tour.  And there is the local homage to the 1939 movie "Dodge City".  All the glitz and glamor of 1939 Hollywood ascended on this queen of the cattle towns.  I just had to find this spot on the walking tour.  I did, and while I did find the bright, shiny disc on the sidewalk, it was so sad to see what's left of the old theater. 

The next stop had to be the old train station.  Yeah, I know it's another train station, but I promise this one is different.  OK, film quiz.  Judy Garland as a Harvey Girl.  Yep, "Harvey Girls" was a 1946 western musical (only Hollywood would come up with that combination) starring Judy Garland and Angela Lansbury among others.  But the story was taken from the real Harvey Girls that existed along the Atchison, Topeka, and the Santa Fe lines.  Here in Dodge the original depot as well as the building that housed the Harvey House has been renovated and used for meetings, a local theater, and yes, the Amtrak station.  Passenger trains stop here twice a day and if they aren't in too big of a hurry they can set their watches by the huge sundials near the tracks.  One is set to central time and one to mountain time because the line dividing the two time zones used to run right through this town.  Thankfully that confusion doesn't happen anymore. 

As much as I have enjoyed walking these hot, dusty, dry streets (temps in the triple digits and I did see tumbleweeds blowing across Boot Hill) I have more places to go and things to see, so, westward the wagons, or rather rv and toad.  In keeping with the western theme I decided to follow highway 50 which is actually in part, the old Santa Fe Trail.  One more stop just outside of town at this marker made the trip complete.  Seems "caching" has been around quite a while.  And yes, there was a geocache here.

Head em up!  Move em out!  It's on to New Mexico..... in a roundabout way of course.

 

My People Be Big Boned

In all the years I taught school a lot of things kids have told me have made me laugh, or made me think, or sometimes made me cry.  I can't really remember all the things I've been told that parents would cringe if they knew had been spilled to me.  But there was one moment and one revelation that I can identify with.  A young, slightly plump girl was in tears one day as she came into the classroom during my planning period wanting to talk.  Seems she had been to the doctor for a physical and he had informed her that her weight was going to be a real problem for her.  And while I could see that she was leaning toward her familial tendencies to be a "big" girl, this doctor had really scared her.  We had a long talk about it and I like to think I helped her get over her fears and maybe think about some small changes.  Not that the doctor was really wrong, I just think he really shook her up.    But as she explained to me quite sincerely, "My people be big-boned, Ms. Riggan," I knew exactly what she meant.

Now that's reasoning I can understand.  You see, my people be big boned too.  Yes, as you can see by the picture below, I come from some really "healthy" stock. 

That's my mother's family at a gathering in the 1920s.  Mother wasn't in the picture but that's her daddy (my "big Pa") third from the left on the back row and flanked by two of his big (as in age and size) sisters.  The sister sitting second from the left never grew to the size of her other siblings (guess it does skip some of the family). 

 

Forty years later, when I was just entering my teens, I could lay both my hands across one of my grandfather's hands.  He and his sisters were all over 6 feet tall and held commanding presence when they entered the room.  These attributes were helpful in Pa's profession as a lawman as he seldom felt the need to carry a weapon.  His size, those large, strong hands, and that deep voice would usually suffice in bringing a prisoner into line.  I remember Aunt Catherine, Pa's sister, catching me eating strawberries in her garden.  The sound of her voice calling my name gave me a sense of kinship with the lawbreakers Pa brought in to the jail in Gallatin. 

 

Whenever I'm up in front of a classroom of teenagers who have little interest in what I'm saying I try to channel that inner Big Pa that I know is somewhere inside my much shorter than 6 foot frame and take command.  Haven't had to pull a weapon yet so maybe there is something there. 

 

So far I have managed to keep the big boned heredity somewhat under control by staying busy, getting as much exercise as possible and eating my veggies every day.  But everyday is a challenge because, as you now understand, My People Be Big Boned.