from North Carolina to Texas

Step 1: down to Cordele KOA, GA
Tuesday, 1 August and Wednesday, 2 August 2023

I woke up during the night (at 1:30) to a strong smell of poop.  I got up and looked but never found it and never got back to sleep.  Sadly, today's drive didn't include any rest areas along the highway, so the whole drive was a fight to stay awake.

I passed through Gilmer County (Apple Capital of GA) and Pickens County (Marble Capital of GA).   Mimosas and oleanders were blooming.  There were miles of thick green trees and plenty of kudzu.  This area is probably stunning in the fall.

GA has towns named Ball Ground, Roswell, and Woodstock.

A section of the road that Google promised was 35 miles long turned out to actually be 55 miles long, making me feel very anxious for 20 miles about whether I was on the right road or had missed an exit.

We stayed 2 nights at Cordele ("Gateway to Southern Georgia") KOA, where I'd spent a fair amount of time this past winter.  I enjoyed it then but wasn't very impressed this time around.  It wasn't the campground's fault that the gnats were almost intolerable - in fact, a form of torture because they got into our (Dext's and my) eyes and nose and ears and only a very strong constant breeze would keep them away.  When I tried to fill the water tank, I gave up halfway through because I couldn't take the gnats any more. 

But even if the gnats hadn't been a problem, I wouldn't have wanted to sit outside because the grass/weeds in the campground had been allowed to grow 8" tall or so.  It was very uncomfortable to walk in our campsite, let alone anywhere else in the campground.  And that apparently was the fault of the campground, because the person who was supposed to cut the grass (the wife of the manager) kept promising to do it and kept on not cutting it.  She finally did get out our 2nd day here, but she didn't cut our site - I guess because we were there - but that meant I had to keep wading through tall grass and weeds for the whole visit.  It just made the place look junky, aside from being uncomfortable.

I couldn't help comparing it to the Murphy KOA I'd just left where the manager there was constantly cutting grass somewhere in the campground, in an attempt to keep on top of it.

But I did enjoy relaxing by reading the new indictments filed against former president Trump.  I've loved reading court opinions ever since I was assigned to read them my first year of law school, and of course these documents were filed by lawyers (indictments), not by judges (opinions), but I still found them fascinating to see their legal reasoning laid out.  I don't know if they can prove everything they allege, but if they can, then Trump's got some real trouble ahead.

Step 2: down to Starke KOA, FL
Thursday, 3 August and Friday, 4 August 2023

According to Gas Buddy, gas is 20¢/gallon cheaper in NC than in GA, and ditto between GA and FL.  I would normally expect to see the difference showing up in the quality of the roads, but I can't say I see much difference between the roads of these 3 states.  Though I heard on the radio that gas prices are high right now because oil refineries weren't working properly in the truly excessive heat that so many have dealt with lately.

I saw a strange sign that said "Will the Sunday Law Be the Mark of the Beast?"  I didn't understand any of that but was curious.  Apparently the Seventh Day Adventists believe Catholics will institute a law mandating Sunday as a day of worship and outlawing worship on other days.  (Can't say I understand this idea because Catholics aren't nearly the political powerhouse they were when I was a kid, and if they didn't do it then, they're sure unlikely to do it now.)  And they see this putative law as the "mark of the beast," which the book of Revelation says is the mark of the antichrist.  (Again, this seems to be a big stretch, since I can think of a whole lot of mandates that a lack of church/state separation could visit on folks that are much more serious than which day you worship on.)

The odd thing (yes, odder than this) was that I found this information on a website that claims it's critiquing the Seventh Day Adventist arguments, but it actually goes on a crazy tangent about what constitutes "worship."  And another website on this subject did a tangent detailing many laws about what's allowed on Sunday, dating back to a poor sermon George Washington listened to when he was resting his horses on a Sunday.  That article seemed to have been written in 1939.  It all verged on incoherent to me and reminded me of how things have changed since the "Blue Laws" of my childhood that closed most stores on Sundays - especially those selling alcohol.

And I passed lots of Jesus billboards as I drove south.  

I heard Peter Sagal ("Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me") said Trump's third indictment means he finally gets to be a real boy.  (He certainly has more than his share of Pinocchios.)

I stayed a 2nd night at the Starke KOA (where we spent a lot of time this past winter) because I wanted to visit my cousins Karen and Bobby before leaving the East Coast.  Karen once taught school here in Starke and sent me directions for a back route to get to their house that would help me avoid the usual traffic. 

Not only was it a good route, it was interesting because I passed the Florida State Prison Training Complex, the Florida State Prison, the Florida Department of Corrections, the Union Correctional Institution, the Union Correctional Institution Training Complex, and the Northeast Florida State Hospital (a mental hospital, which I assume they'd likely need for both the prison inmates and the prison staff).

Spent a very pleasant afternoon with my cousins, both teachers who've retired after many many years of work.  Both the backbone of the education system in our country.  For some reason, both sides of my family have quite a few teachers in it.

They had a couple of cat toys sitting on the rug (I don't think I've ever seen their cats during any of my visits, though Karen says they're not big fans of company) and asked if their cats liked those toys.  Both Karen and Bobby assured me they did, and I'm always trying to find something to entertain the kittens, so if it's not too expensive, I'll find one of these.  Pictures to follow if I do.

Step 3: through the Panhandle back to Rocky Bayou State Park, FL
Saturday, 5 August 2023

Rain started not long after we left Starke, and it kept up off and on all day.

I passed a town that I saw from signs on businesses was named Lulu, though there was no highway sign.  I've learned it was established in the 1890s, is unincorporated and was first named Hagen.  Apparently that name was often confused with a nearby town called Hague, so the postmaster named it after his girlfriend Lula (then they broke up).  It was originally prosperous but is now verging on a ghost town.

I passed lots of anti-abortion billboards and lots of very large solar panel fields.

I crossed a bridge over the Apalachicola River (it was 1.9 miles long) and crossed into the Central Time Zone.

All day I kept feeling pins-and-needles in my right arm.  This has been happening recently with increasing frequency.

I always have trouble staying awake while driving through FL's panhandle.  We stopped at a rest area, but even going out for a walk with Dext didn't help because the air was so warm and heavy.  I actually dozed a bit on the bed there.  Anyway, I filled a cup with iced lemonade and put on Jimmy Buffett, and that all helped with the staying awake bit.  It was a very warm day and the RV's AC just wasn't working very well.

I crossed lots of rivers with names like Ochlockonee and Chipola and Choctawhatchee.

By the time we got to Niceville, near the state park, we started seeing lightning.  Then arrival at the park was a real mess.  Lots of lightning and thunder and it was raining so hard that visibility was poor.  While I was trying to find a level area in our campsite, I guess I backed into the water pipe.  I didn't see it or hear it, but as I started to back up again, I looked back and saw a geyser.  Obviously I needed to report that so I went back to the office.

That situation was just weird.  The volunteer in the office told me no other site in the campground was available and I should find a park ranger to report the situation (like they don't have radio contact with each other, which every state park I've ever been in does).  So I pointed out I'd just told him (the volunteer) and I didn't want to drive around in the rain looking for a ranger.  Then the volunteer acted like I was attacking him and got very defensive but kept telling me there were no other campsites.

So I went back to the my site and found 2 rangers already there, turning off the gusher.  When I told them the volunteer said there weren't any other sites available, they looked at each other, told me at least 2 other sites were available, picked out one of them for me, and stood out in the pouring rain to stop traffic so I could back up into that site instead of driving all the way around the loop to get into it.  Really nice guys.

A short time later, the rain stopped and I took Dext out, but we got only a short distance away when it started back up again.  We barely got back to the RV before the deluge hit.  I was wearing flip-flops because it was such a warm day, but I'd forgotten these campsites were based on sand, so it got into my toes and the flip-flops and was really uncomfortable.

One of the rangers told me his wife said the rain would be intermittent, and she was right, so Dext and I did get a bit of a walk in before bed.  The drive took us 6 hours, which wasn't bad since it included the dog park stop and the rest area, but with the rain, it felt like a long day. 

Step 4: on to Baton Rouge KOA, LA
Sunday, 6 August 2023

I was surprised at the number and variety of state license plates I saw today.  Before I even got to Mobile (AL) I saw FL of course (17 plates), TX (14), Ark. (6), LA and AL (5 each), MS, Mont., Ill., IA, KY (1 plate each).  And then I stopped counting.

And Welcome to Sweet Home Alabama.  We stopped at the welcome center but, again, the warm heavy air wasn't refreshing.

I don't know which of us screwed up - Google or me - but I wrote down the distance between I-10 and I-165 via Africatown as 5 miles, and it turned out to be 13 miles.  I'm blaming both of us, actually.  I wanted to avoid the tunnel under the Mobile River - I don't like tunnels anyway, and especially don't like long ones (it's over a half mile long), and this one just very barely accommodates the size of my RV.  I'd rather take the bridge (which gives you an idea of how much I don't like tunnels).

Driving through Mobile, I passed the Government Street Methodist Church.  I couldn't find an uncopyrighted photo - too bad - but it's really arresting in the Spanish Colonial style, finished in 1917 though the church itself was organized 70 years before that.

I drove down Michigan Avenue, lined with beautiful old oaks laden with Spanish moss.  Mobile sure is an attractive city.

But I found a set of railroad tracks that were really rough and deserved a warning sign, which they didn't have.

I heard on NPR the poem Good Bones by Maggie Smith.  It's not very long but I won't copy it here and just suggest you take a look at this link.   https://www.poetryfoundation.org/good-bones

And then Welcome to Mississippi, and we stopped at the welcome center.  There's not much of Mississippi that I-10 crosses and it seems mostly water: the Escatawpa River, the Pascagoula River, then miles of marsh/wetlands/winding waterways, followed by the Tacabouffa River, the Biloxi River, and the Pearl River.

Then Welcome to Louisiana/Bienvenue én Louisiane - and another stop at another welcome center.

Dext had liquid stools all day, probably due to something he ate at the Starke campground early yesterday.  Between that and the very warm weather, he's really getting worn out.

We crossed the Tchefuncte River and the Tangipahoa River.  I know I've said this before, but I think the history of our country shows itself in the names of our rivers.

I got stuck behind an older (75-85 yo) man in a very small Chevy, and I know he was only going 40 mph on I-10 because I couldn't pass him - hemmed in by other traffic.  It was a whole lot of traffic on a too hot Sunday afternoon, and all I could do was keep on keeping on.

Less than 8 hours after we started today, we got to the KOA in Baton Rouge - and by then it was 99° and the heat index was up to 112°.  It got up to 115° by the end of the day.  It took me nearly an hour to dump my tanks, walk Dext and get us settled into our campsite.  It was so seriously hot that even the AC plus 2 fans all turned on high didn't get us cool for hours.

I decided to put the awning out, partly for the heat and partly because I was sure there was rain trapped in it and I didn't want it to get mildewed.  The problem was it wouldn't roll back up again when I was getting us ready for bed.  It ended up taking the combined efforts of 2 KOA staff and one camper to finally do what Anna had done a few years ago and drill it back up (I told them how Anna did it).  This was after 3 of us had checked the fuse and we all agreed that it was fine.  The problem must be in the motor.  Thank goodness for the help, but quel mess!

Meanwhile Dext's stools were still really liquid, and he vomited maybe 6 times after eating supper.  I'm zooming through a roll of paper towels cleaning up after him.  He looks really miserable, and I'm sure the heat isn't helping the situation.  Poor little guy - though he did bring it on himself by eating what I'd told him not to.  I'm sorry he has to live with the misery and I'm really sorry I do too.

So between Dext and the awning and the heat, it was a stressful evening.

Of course, bedtime didn't end it.  Shortly after I got into bed I heard him vomiting yet again, so I got up to clean it up.

Step 5: heading to Village Creek State Park, Lumberton, TX
Monday, 7 August 2023

This morning I found Dext had vomited again twice during the night - and then twice more before we got back on the road.  He refused to eat his bedtime Milk-Bone and refused to eat breakfast this morning.  His stool was still completely liquid and he just did not look in very good shape.  I sure will be glad when this whatever-he-ate finally works its way out of his system.

Last night's campground was less than 10 miles from a recycling dropoff center, so I stopped by there first thing.  And that was something else weird.  The official "dropoff center" consisted of several dumpsters outside a gated trash disposal area, and all of them were full of trash, with more trash strewn on the ground all around the area and broken glass all over.  An employee was scooping up all this debris, and when I asked him where I was supposed to put my recycling stuff, he said "there" and pointed to a large broken cardboard box - about refrigerator sized - open on the top and one side to the wind and other elements.  But he assured me that was the "recycling dropoff" point, so I left all my collected stuff.  Given the circumstances, I doubt if it actually gets recycled, but you never know.

We crossed the Mississippi River.  And that was followed by the 18.2 mile bridge over the Atchafalaya Basin.  It has 2 lanes for each direction, a posted speed of 60 for personal vehicles and 55 for trucks, and almost everybody obeys these limits.  I've noticed that oddity when I've crossed this bridge before - well, I think it's odd that so many people are actually obeying the speed limit.

In short order, we crossed the Atchafalaya River, Lake Breaux, Henderson Swamp, Bayou Teche - this is just a wet area of the state.  And many of the names reflect the French heritage here: e.g. Breaux Bridge, Bayou Teche, Lafayette (though that name's not exclusive to LA - about half the US states have places named after Lafayette).  And highway signs reminded me that LA has parishes instead of counties and corporations instead of cities, which in turn reminded me that LA is the only state with a legal system modeled after French civil law (all others are based on English common law).

Louisiana's roads are very rough.

And, sadly, a rest area the AAA map claimed existed, didn't.  We all needed a break so I pulled off at the small town of Welsh and stopped in the parking lot of a closed library.  We ate lunch, and Dext and I walked around the neighborhood.  A sign in front of the library said, "What do you call a sunburned librarian?  Well red."  And obviously still feeling punk, Dext didn't even try to eat but just drank water.

Leaving town, we passed a very well-attended funeral just letting out.  Small town funerals remind me of those I saw in earlier years in Texas; I remember the funeral of my Aunt Mary in 1986 in Temple, TX, where all traffic stopped and even city street maintenance workers took off their hardhats as the funeral procession passed.

I saw a billboard that said: GREAUX MORE RICE.

All day long I saw lots of police, and since today's a Monday and not a holiday, I wondered why.

I crossed the Sabine River and the TX state line and didn't see a welcome sign but I did see, and stop at, the welcome center.  Here, I tried to turn on the generator so I could run the AC so we wouldn't be felled by the heat, but no generator.  The switch that governs cabin power was off and wouldn't come back on.  I finally started the RV's motor, and then the switch went on, and then the generator went on, so then I could turn the AC on.  And oddly the radio reset itself to 87.5, which isn't a setting I can reach myself.

After we left the welcome center, I finally saw a sign that said: "Welcome to Texas" and "Drive Friendly - The Texas Way" (though that seems like gaslighting to me of a major order.

We stopped at a Kroger in Beaumont (where I had the same problem with the generator and AC), and then drove north to Lumberton, pop. 13,554.  On the way to the campground, I saw a sign for a business that said: "You Wish It, I Granite."

All day long it had been really hot, and for much of the drive the wind was so strong I could see it was shoving the semis around (not to mention what it was doing to the RV).

We've stayed at tonight's state campground a couple of times in the past - it's a small campground, and tonight we were one of only a few campers, so it was very quiet.  Our campsite was quite a way from the other couple of campers, and I was glad I had Dext to make me feel safe, though there was never any hint of trouble.

Step 6: to Mount Pleasant KOA
Tuesday, 8 August 2023

In Georgia, I paid $3.59/gallon for gas, and the same in Florida.  In Louisiana, I paid $3.43, and in Texas, just north of Lumberton, I paid $3.21.  The odd thing about that is that Texas has a fairly high gas tax, because that's what funds the extensive highway system here.  And although the quality of TX highways has deteriorated over the decades I've been driving on them, they're still better than in those other states with higher gas prices.

When I paid for my gas this morning, I was in line behind a woman who bought a carton of Marlboros, a large package of chewing tobacco and a lottery ticket - and I figured I must be back in Texas.

On our way north, we passed the Big Thicket National Preserve Visitor Center.  Even though I stayed near here during my "month" in Texas, I never went to this center, but it's definitely on my list for a place to stop when I have time.

I've finally decided the problem with cabin power means the cabin batteries aren't working any more and I'll need to get new ones.  Yet another expense but, unlike the non-working awning, this one is too important to shelve.

We passed the town of Village Mills that once was a thriving community but the population had dropped to 80 by the 1940 census and now seems to have only a Baptist church and a few houses.  A world record was set here in 1895 when a local mill sawed 255,403' of lumber with a single sawblade.  Ah - past glories.

I decided Tyler County must be dry (there are still - in 2023 - four dry counties in TX) because just a few feet before the county line I saw a large liquor store.

Another sign that I was now in Texas: the highway was a winding 2-lane road, though with wide shoulders, and the speed limit was 75 mph.  The wide shoulders were presumably because this was a designated "evacuation route," as numerous signs told me.  The evacuations, I'm sure, occur when hurricanes hit the Gulf Coast (Beaumont, a city of 115,000, sits just a few miles from the Gulf).

A sign told me I was passing the turn for the Toledo Bend Dam.  I remember seeing this lake from both sides - there's a very pleasant state park on the Louisiana side.

This highway is called the Big Thicket Preserve Parkway, and it's a lovely, hilly, winding road through thick woods of pine and mixed woods.

Between Huntington and Lufkin, I passed Paradise RV Park, which was notable because every campsite was not only paved but also had a cover to park your RV under, which I've never seen anywhere in the country.  It has 42 sites, and apparently caters to long-term stays; their website doesn't include prices (so they must be high), but they do say you can rent an RV (which would stay there at the park) for $800/month, with all bills paid.  Seems like pretty reasonable rent, to me.

We stopped in Nacogdoches (pop. 32,996) because I found a dog park online.  It turned out to be very nice, with separate sections for small and large dogs.  Too bad, no other dogs showed up while we were there.  Also too bad, Dext's stools were still liquid.  We had lunch there and left about noon.

Earlier in our drive today, we were passing mostly small towns, such as Colmesneil (pop. 542) and Zavalla (pop. 713).  Now that we're farther inland, we're seeing larger towns, such as Nacogdoches, Kilgore (pop. 13,376) and Lufkin (pop. 34,143).  Kilgore, by the way, has lots of oil drilling support businesses.

As we went farther north, the towns got smaller, such as Gilmer (pop. 4,843), Pittsburg (pop. 4,335), and Gladewater (pop. 6,134) - the latter claims the title of "Antique Capital of East Texas."  We stopped there for a walk around the post office and library, and I saw these historical markers.

I thought these gave a view into the way life used to be - 100 years ago in the case of the buses, and 70 years ago in the case of Shepperd.

Driving into Mount Pleasant (pop. 16,047) we passed a very large facility labeled Priefert Ranch Equipment.  They say they're still family owned and operated, and they're a "leading manufacturer of farm, ranch and rodeo equipment."  I actually found their web page pretty interesting, if you want to take a look at a lesser-seen side of life in America.   https://www.priefert.com/about-the-ranch

We left Lumberton at 8:20 this morning, and it was 2:00 when we left Gladewater, so it was late afternoon when we finally got to Mount Pleasant.  We've stayed here so often, though, that both Dext and I felt comfortable being back.  I'm hoping he'll be able to get well, now that we'll be in one spot for a while.

It's been a long 6 days.