The days here are really long. It gets dark about 10:30-11pm and is bright very early. How early it gets light is a guess, because we are both sleeping late as we have finally resolved to being on vacation. It took several days but we made it. My cell phone did not ring a single time today with work problems. Anyway, the weather is cold at night (4o's last night), and hot in the sun and mild in the shade. This I would classify as the Canadian weather that I know.
We went searching for an elusive ghost town called Jackfish, ON. It was a railroad town that fed coal to the steam engines and was abandoned after diesel locomotives were introduced. I hope the same thing happens to the oil producing countries after another form of cheap fuel for cars is found--bless their hearts. The dirt road that led to the former town of Jackfish was supposedly after this certain bridge and over the valley and through the woods right next to Grandma's house. Needless to say, we never found the town. We drove several miles of dirt roads and saw all kinds of railroad stuff but not the town. But guess what we did see? Go ahead guess. Ummm nope. It was a cougar. She/he was sitting in one of the dirt roads as we passed by. At first I thought it was a wolf, then it got up and moved across the road and the silhouette was clearly feline. The cougar was far enough away that we didn't want to disturb it. Yeah right. When Riley gets scared he sometimes pees a little puddle where he is standing. Between Riley and me we had a good sized puddle going. As far as I was concerned, that cougar owned that dirt road. Deb asked me why didn't we go closer because we were in The Crapper, and it couldn't hurt us. Yeah right, that cougar could be one of the cougars that carries a can opener and then where would we be. The dogs would be whining, Deb would be screaming, and I'd have to get out and go beat up on that cougar for scratching The Crapper. I would too. If it messed with me, I'd drive back to Tim Horton's and get Mama Godzilla. That would make that cougar pee in its tracks. If you don't know who Mama Godzilla is you need to read the old stuff first.
We went to Neys Provincial Park today. It is a small park near Marathon, ON. Actually it is right across the street from the lunchground. The interesting thing about this park is that it housed high security risk Nazis during the second world war. There were several prisoner of war camps along Lake Superior's Canadian side. It seems Britain was overflowing with Nazis POWs and Canada decided to take around 7000 of them. About 500 of them came to Neys. Isn't that fact interesting? I learned something new today. How many of you knew that 7000 Nazis and Japanese were billeted in this area? I'll bet none of you. It seems the POWs were treated so nicely and they liked their captors so much that some stayed after the war. The Nazis were allowed to take correspondence courses from the University of Saskatchewan (where Deb graduated from college) during their detainment. I won't go into this further because you can google it, but it was interesting to learn of the camps and the northern hospitality. I know where those Guantanamo knuckleheads can go. They come here terrorists and leave Mormons. I'm not sure which is worse. Okay, Mormons.
We had lunch at the lunchground today. Again, if you don't understand what a lunchground is you should have read the former blog entries first. If so, my rantings might make better sense; however, my rantings will never make good sense, because I am at the wheel of this sucker. Anyway, we went to the lunchground for lunch today. The Lunch Lady was in there and she did a good job of preparing lunch. What caught my eye (Yall know that I'm not going to talk about some stupid lunch don't you) was this spray bottle that she placed onto the table along with ketchup and salt. Of course I picked it up out of curiosity and found it to have vinegar in it. What you might not know is that some Canadians like vinegar on their french fries like some Brits do. What you normally see is a bottle of malt vinegar. Oh heck no, there are no bottles in the lunchground. What made this unique was the spray bottle. I picked the thing up and smelled of it, and I thought it was Windex or 409 or something she used to clean the tables. Oh no, it was intended for you to spritz your french fries instead of drowning them in malt vinegar. Deb thought that was it was a great idea using a spray bottle, and I'll bet we have a dern vinegar spritzer when we get home. I thought that was totally silly unless you wanted to wash windows or get bugs off your car's bumper. Yuck. Nasty. Deb saw me look at the spray bottle and laugh fully knowing I would talk about it here. Well she was correct.
Tomorrow is a short drive of 150 miles to Thunder Bay, ON where we will stay two nights. If I use the analogy of Lake Superior being round like a clock, we are at 12 o'clock now and will be at 10:30 tomorrow.
Manana Yall.
Al
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Bears and Magpies--Marathon, ON June 29, 2010
We left Wawa this morning and meandered to Marathon, ON where we are camped for two nights. The drive was only about 150 miles, so we took our time. We are in the Neys Lunch and Campground. I was wondering earlier why it it not called the Neys Luncheonette and Campground. I now wonder what a lunchground is? I try not to dwell on the meaning too much because this type of thing makes my head hurt. Anyway, the campground is small and deserted. There are other RVs in here but unoccupied. The lady at the campground office ( lunchground office too) said something when we checked in that disturbed me. She said we couldn't put trash into the trash house ( I kid you not a building just for trash) after 8pm because that was the third and final trash run of the day to the dump. Deb asked why and she said that they didn't want bears to get into it. In case you are bad at math, 1 + 1 + 1 =3. One, we are in a deserted campground, two, there are bears nearby, and three, they make three runs per day to the dump. Hum. Maybe Yogi is going to pay us a visit tonight hunting for our picnic basket?
While staying at the campground in Wawa, the park had a fifty gallon, steel can partially buried at each campsite. We put our trash into it and the magic trash fairy made it disappear. The only problem was that the trash had gotten strewn around the can a couple times, once which occurred in the night and made the puppies jump on our bed. We thought a raccoon was the culprit but who was to blame greatly surprised me. This morning we were busy packing up The Love Boat when I heard the trash can lid go bang, but I thought it was Deb taking out the trash. When I walked around the bow of The Love Boat I saw trash strewn around and a couple gargantuan magpies picking at the trash. Gargantuan doesn't quite describe these muscular beasts, pterodactyls would be a better way to describe them. The river near the campground was called Magpie River and now I know why. The night before I had heard the magpies braying outside a few times and thought they sounded like Gilbert Godfrey but didn't give them much thought. The magpies that pulled that heavy steel lid off the trash can must have been Terminator model robotic magpies or something. I would have set the puppies loose on them but was afraid they would snatch the puppies and carry them off. The current campground doesn't have magpies only trash eating bears. Good times Yall.
When we were at Tim Horton's yesterday, Deb and I were sitting at a table watching The Crapper where the puppies sat in the backseat entertaining themselves watching people pass by. They would stick their heads out the window so people could pat them on the head. Well, that was until this "woman" drove up and parked next to them. The puppies took one look at her and decided she was not going to touch them. This "woman" was mean looking and about the size of a silverback gorilla. Deb and I saw her, and I told Deb to not make eye contact with her or one of us was going to get hurt, and it wasn't going to be me. There was no way I was going to fight Mama Godzilla. She looked like she was a lumberjack, bulldozer, or car crusher. We left shortly thereafter. I'll bet she wouldn't have any trouble snatching the feathers off those campground magpies. Come to think of it, maybe what the lunchground office lady was referring to getting into the trash was not bears but Mama Godzilla checking out what she thought to be the salad bar building. I'll fight a bear, but if its Mama Godzilla, Deb is on her own. The puppies are in total agreement with me.
Bye for now.
Al
While staying at the campground in Wawa, the park had a fifty gallon, steel can partially buried at each campsite. We put our trash into it and the magic trash fairy made it disappear. The only problem was that the trash had gotten strewn around the can a couple times, once which occurred in the night and made the puppies jump on our bed. We thought a raccoon was the culprit but who was to blame greatly surprised me. This morning we were busy packing up The Love Boat when I heard the trash can lid go bang, but I thought it was Deb taking out the trash. When I walked around the bow of The Love Boat I saw trash strewn around and a couple gargantuan magpies picking at the trash. Gargantuan doesn't quite describe these muscular beasts, pterodactyls would be a better way to describe them. The river near the campground was called Magpie River and now I know why. The night before I had heard the magpies braying outside a few times and thought they sounded like Gilbert Godfrey but didn't give them much thought. The magpies that pulled that heavy steel lid off the trash can must have been Terminator model robotic magpies or something. I would have set the puppies loose on them but was afraid they would snatch the puppies and carry them off. The current campground doesn't have magpies only trash eating bears. Good times Yall.
When we were at Tim Horton's yesterday, Deb and I were sitting at a table watching The Crapper where the puppies sat in the backseat entertaining themselves watching people pass by. They would stick their heads out the window so people could pat them on the head. Well, that was until this "woman" drove up and parked next to them. The puppies took one look at her and decided she was not going to touch them. This "woman" was mean looking and about the size of a silverback gorilla. Deb and I saw her, and I told Deb to not make eye contact with her or one of us was going to get hurt, and it wasn't going to be me. There was no way I was going to fight Mama Godzilla. She looked like she was a lumberjack, bulldozer, or car crusher. We left shortly thereafter. I'll bet she wouldn't have any trouble snatching the feathers off those campground magpies. Come to think of it, maybe what the lunchground office lady was referring to getting into the trash was not bears but Mama Godzilla checking out what she thought to be the salad bar building. I'll fight a bear, but if its Mama Godzilla, Deb is on her own. The puppies are in total agreement with me.
Bye for now.
Al
Monday, June 28, 2010
Lake Superior near Wawa, ON, Canada
Monty and Riley sticking their tongues out at you. Years of training and this is what they do in public
The Love Boat and the Crapper on Lake Superior.
This is a glimpse of the shoreline of Lake Superior "near" Wawa, ON. The remaining pictures are more of the same.
Let's play what is this.
What is this? Is it a huge goose? That is just what they want you to think.
It is actually the new stealth bomber. Here we see a closeup of the bomb bay door.
Here
It is actually the new stealth bomber. Here we see a closeup of the bomb bay door.
Here
Weather, AC, Tim Horton's -- Wawa, Ontario, Canada June 28,2010
We turned on the furnace this morning, because it was about 58 degrees last night. Today's high was 62 degrees and tonight's low is 42 degrees. This brings me to my first topic, Canadians and air conditioning.
We visited Deb's hometown a few years ago, and the daytime high was around 90 degrees. The Canadians that read this blog converted 90 degrees Fahrenheit into 32 degrees Celsius in their head while reading the last sentence. They are very good about converting US measures into metric measures. US citizens generally suck at it. Even though Canadians are excellent at converting units of measure, they have a ways to go on installing air conditioners into their homes. I come from the land of air conditioning, and we use it about eight months a year. We don't understand why everybody doesn't have air conditioning. Being married to a Canadian has helped me to understand-- well sorta kinda. Most of this region only gets hot for a short period of time which is something like a month. I figure the Canadians like the heat to help them defrost from the god awful cold temperatures that happen here. In Naicam, where we are headed, the temperature will drop to -40 degrees below zero and stay there for a very long time. So, I figure the people here go into deep freeze and thaw out in August. Now Southerners are slow broiled eight months of the year. We don't need to thaw out as we will spoil if left unrefrigerated over night. That is my story and I'm sticking to it.
Speaking of air conditioning, we had dinner tonight in a local restaurant. It was called The Viking. On the huge sign out front of the restaurant was large lettering advertising "Air Conditioned". I didn't see anything else on that sign except the part about air conditioning. It made no difference the temperature outside was 58 degrees, I saw the words "air conditioned". Deb saw "Lake Superior Trout and White Fish". I did not and to each their own. Now remember it was 58 degrees outside. About fifteen minutes after we sat down a couple came in the front door who were dressed like they came from Palm Springs or some hoity-toity place like that. The front part of the restaurant had large windows with tables next to the window. Needless to say, I sat my Southern butt away from those solar collecting, plate glass windows. It is instinctual for me. Anyway, the hoity-toity couple came in and the waitress told them to sit anywhere they wanted. Of course they waltzed over to table next to the solar collectors. Just before sitting down the woman looks up at the waitress and states that it might get hot in the sun and asks if the air conditioning was on. The waitress calmly told them that it was not needed as it was 58 degrees outside. The couple looked like moose in the headlights for a few moments then sat down. Of course, Deb and I had a good laugh at their expense. Now that I think about it, I understand their concern about the heat. However, I am smart enough to know it was 58 degrees outside. Geez. Duhhhh.
I honestly think the puppies are enjoying themselves now. They are the center of attraction everywhere we go which is nothing new. People always want to know their breed and "do they shed a lot". They are Keeshonds and yes they shed a lot. Believe me when I tell you they shed much more when The Love Boat is going BRRUUUUUPPP on the interstate, but they still shed a lot. I had some joker ask me a few days ago how much they cost and were worth. It took all diplomacy that I could muster to not tell him that the puppies surely cost more than that skank wife of his, but I didn't want to hurt his sister's feelings. Geez, what kind of a question is that? It takes all kinds.
Alrighty Yall, we are in Canada now. We went to Tim Horton's today. Southerners have no idea what a Tim Horton's is, so I'm going to tell you like it or not. Tim Horton's is like a Krispy Kreme of Canada. Canadians flock to Tim Horton's like Baptists to fried chicken. I don't get the attraction but what do I know. Maybe it is because Tim Horton's is air conditioned. That's it. They go there to be in air conditioning. I'll have to remember that even though The Love Boat's AC is superior might I add. Sorry, that is air conditioners, plural as in two. While traveling in The Love Boat, I have watched several Canadians stopping and envying The Love Boat's air conditioners, then they shrug and go to Tim Horton's. You might say Deb and I are air conditioning ambassadors.
Well, we leave Wawa tomorrow for a place called Marathon, Ontario which is near Ney's Provincial Park. We have seen all we wawant to see here in Wawa, weally we have. Weally. We are weady to move awong.
Bye for now.
Al
We visited Deb's hometown a few years ago, and the daytime high was around 90 degrees. The Canadians that read this blog converted 90 degrees Fahrenheit into 32 degrees Celsius in their head while reading the last sentence. They are very good about converting US measures into metric measures. US citizens generally suck at it. Even though Canadians are excellent at converting units of measure, they have a ways to go on installing air conditioners into their homes. I come from the land of air conditioning, and we use it about eight months a year. We don't understand why everybody doesn't have air conditioning. Being married to a Canadian has helped me to understand-- well sorta kinda. Most of this region only gets hot for a short period of time which is something like a month. I figure the Canadians like the heat to help them defrost from the god awful cold temperatures that happen here. In Naicam, where we are headed, the temperature will drop to -40 degrees below zero and stay there for a very long time. So, I figure the people here go into deep freeze and thaw out in August. Now Southerners are slow broiled eight months of the year. We don't need to thaw out as we will spoil if left unrefrigerated over night. That is my story and I'm sticking to it.
Speaking of air conditioning, we had dinner tonight in a local restaurant. It was called The Viking. On the huge sign out front of the restaurant was large lettering advertising "Air Conditioned". I didn't see anything else on that sign except the part about air conditioning. It made no difference the temperature outside was 58 degrees, I saw the words "air conditioned". Deb saw "Lake Superior Trout and White Fish". I did not and to each their own. Now remember it was 58 degrees outside. About fifteen minutes after we sat down a couple came in the front door who were dressed like they came from Palm Springs or some hoity-toity place like that. The front part of the restaurant had large windows with tables next to the window. Needless to say, I sat my Southern butt away from those solar collecting, plate glass windows. It is instinctual for me. Anyway, the hoity-toity couple came in and the waitress told them to sit anywhere they wanted. Of course they waltzed over to table next to the solar collectors. Just before sitting down the woman looks up at the waitress and states that it might get hot in the sun and asks if the air conditioning was on. The waitress calmly told them that it was not needed as it was 58 degrees outside. The couple looked like moose in the headlights for a few moments then sat down. Of course, Deb and I had a good laugh at their expense. Now that I think about it, I understand their concern about the heat. However, I am smart enough to know it was 58 degrees outside. Geez. Duhhhh.
I honestly think the puppies are enjoying themselves now. They are the center of attraction everywhere we go which is nothing new. People always want to know their breed and "do they shed a lot". They are Keeshonds and yes they shed a lot. Believe me when I tell you they shed much more when The Love Boat is going BRRUUUUUPPP on the interstate, but they still shed a lot. I had some joker ask me a few days ago how much they cost and were worth. It took all diplomacy that I could muster to not tell him that the puppies surely cost more than that skank wife of his, but I didn't want to hurt his sister's feelings. Geez, what kind of a question is that? It takes all kinds.
Alrighty Yall, we are in Canada now. We went to Tim Horton's today. Southerners have no idea what a Tim Horton's is, so I'm going to tell you like it or not. Tim Horton's is like a Krispy Kreme of Canada. Canadians flock to Tim Horton's like Baptists to fried chicken. I don't get the attraction but what do I know. Maybe it is because Tim Horton's is air conditioned. That's it. They go there to be in air conditioning. I'll have to remember that even though The Love Boat's AC is superior might I add. Sorry, that is air conditioners, plural as in two. While traveling in The Love Boat, I have watched several Canadians stopping and envying The Love Boat's air conditioners, then they shrug and go to Tim Horton's. You might say Deb and I are air conditioning ambassadors.
Well, we leave Wawa tomorrow for a place called Marathon, Ontario which is near Ney's Provincial Park. We have seen all we wawant to see here in Wawa, weally we have. Weally. We are weady to move awong.
Bye for now.
Al
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Wawa, Customs, and Deliverance--Wawa, Ontario June 27, 2010
We left Sault Sainte Marie today and drove to Wawa, Ontario. No there are no towns named Wewe or Caca, and I have no idea where the name originated. In order to help you try to visualize where we are, try to think of Lake Superior as the face of a clock. Sault Sainte Marie would be at 5 o'clock and Wawa would be at about 3 o'clock.Our next stop day after tomorrow is Neys, Ontario which is at 12 o'clock. Now for you folks that attended UNC, Sault Sainte Marie has the big hand on the 12 and the little hand on the 5. I wont go any further because that might confuse them.
When we crossed over into Canada, I noticed a profound difference between the Canadian customs people and the US customs people. The Canadian custom agents were dressed like what a policeman would wear. They spoke nicely and joked around with me. They were truly pleasant to deal with. Not so with the US customs. They were harsh to speak with and were dressed in para-military dress. I had to go into the Canadian customs building for something that I needed and spoke to a customs agent there. She was a lady and was pleasant to talk with. I asked her why was there so much difference between the US and Canadian customs and she smiled and told me that there shouldn't be but there was. She said that she took her kids to a snow festival in Sault Sainte Marie (US portion) this past winter and when she got to the US customs, US customs decided to take her car apart. The agents that did it knew her and interrogated her in front of her children. She even showed the US agents her badge, and they did it anyway. Folks, something is wrong here. I'll bet you that she reciprocates the fun times with the US agents when they cross over the border into Canada.
We drove through some of the most rugged and beautiful country today. When we left Sault Sainte Marie (Canadian side) we left civilization. We drove for over 100 miles before seeing any kind of a building. The scenery was magnificent and the traffic was non-existent until we got to our campsite in Wawa and disconnected The Crapper (PT Cruiser toad) and went for a drive. Then the semi-trucks lined up to ride my back bumper. Of course that is always the case when we drive The Crapper-- bullies. Anyway, the shore line of Lake Superior in this area is really rocky, rough, and often steep. If you tried to dive off into the water (cannonballs naturally) from these cliffs, you would likely need a full body cast later. On second thought, your attempt at cliff diving would likely result in you smashing your head, knocking out all of your brains, and voting for more democrats.
The puppies are beginning to settle down and return to their puppy gypsy attitudes. Last night in Sault Saint Marie, there was a fireworks display near the campground. Monty thought he was back in Nam and his PTBSD got infinitely worse. Each time a firework burst occurred Monty would act like he saw Michael Jackson and whirl around and jump up on stuff. Riley would sense that Monty was upset and join in on the fun. Good times Yall.
Last night, before we left, we went to a drug store. A lady that worked there walked up to us and warmly greeted us. That is when it dawned on me that all the women here speak like Sarah Palin. You betcha. Now there is zero wrong with their accents or Sarah Palin for that matter, but it was fun to experience their accents in large quantities. Now a Southern boy like me is a real novelty up here. When I open my mouth people look at me like I'm from Mars (southern Mars that is). I guess the locals are too used to being here in Arctic temperatures where people spit out words fast so that the words don't freeze on their lips or something. Geez Louise. These people ought to quit watching the Deliverance movie. Maybe that is what they are thinking when I speak. They have this look like I'm straight out of that movie. Speaking of which, I saw this bumper sticker that read, "Paddle faster, I hear banjo music". I didn't know whether to laugh or be mad. You betcha.
I saw a road sign in Ohio or Michigan somewhere that read, " This highway dedicated to Catholic American War veterans. Gosh, I never knew the US went to war with the Catholics. I learn something knew everyday. In small print the sign said "you betcha".
I plan to post some photos soon. Tomorrow the low temperature is going to be 42 degrees if I heard Deb correctly.
Al
When we crossed over into Canada, I noticed a profound difference between the Canadian customs people and the US customs people. The Canadian custom agents were dressed like what a policeman would wear. They spoke nicely and joked around with me. They were truly pleasant to deal with. Not so with the US customs. They were harsh to speak with and were dressed in para-military dress. I had to go into the Canadian customs building for something that I needed and spoke to a customs agent there. She was a lady and was pleasant to talk with. I asked her why was there so much difference between the US and Canadian customs and she smiled and told me that there shouldn't be but there was. She said that she took her kids to a snow festival in Sault Sainte Marie (US portion) this past winter and when she got to the US customs, US customs decided to take her car apart. The agents that did it knew her and interrogated her in front of her children. She even showed the US agents her badge, and they did it anyway. Folks, something is wrong here. I'll bet you that she reciprocates the fun times with the US agents when they cross over the border into Canada.
We drove through some of the most rugged and beautiful country today. When we left Sault Sainte Marie (Canadian side) we left civilization. We drove for over 100 miles before seeing any kind of a building. The scenery was magnificent and the traffic was non-existent until we got to our campsite in Wawa and disconnected The Crapper (PT Cruiser toad) and went for a drive. Then the semi-trucks lined up to ride my back bumper. Of course that is always the case when we drive The Crapper-- bullies. Anyway, the shore line of Lake Superior in this area is really rocky, rough, and often steep. If you tried to dive off into the water (cannonballs naturally) from these cliffs, you would likely need a full body cast later. On second thought, your attempt at cliff diving would likely result in you smashing your head, knocking out all of your brains, and voting for more democrats.
The puppies are beginning to settle down and return to their puppy gypsy attitudes. Last night in Sault Saint Marie, there was a fireworks display near the campground. Monty thought he was back in Nam and his PTBSD got infinitely worse. Each time a firework burst occurred Monty would act like he saw Michael Jackson and whirl around and jump up on stuff. Riley would sense that Monty was upset and join in on the fun. Good times Yall.
Last night, before we left, we went to a drug store. A lady that worked there walked up to us and warmly greeted us. That is when it dawned on me that all the women here speak like Sarah Palin. You betcha. Now there is zero wrong with their accents or Sarah Palin for that matter, but it was fun to experience their accents in large quantities. Now a Southern boy like me is a real novelty up here. When I open my mouth people look at me like I'm from Mars (southern Mars that is). I guess the locals are too used to being here in Arctic temperatures where people spit out words fast so that the words don't freeze on their lips or something. Geez Louise. These people ought to quit watching the Deliverance movie. Maybe that is what they are thinking when I speak. They have this look like I'm straight out of that movie. Speaking of which, I saw this bumper sticker that read, "Paddle faster, I hear banjo music". I didn't know whether to laugh or be mad. You betcha.
I saw a road sign in Ohio or Michigan somewhere that read, " This highway dedicated to Catholic American War veterans. Gosh, I never knew the US went to war with the Catholics. I learn something knew everyday. In small print the sign said "you betcha".
I plan to post some photos soon. Tomorrow the low temperature is going to be 42 degrees if I heard Deb correctly.
Al
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Air filters, rednecks, and Bronner's--Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan. June 26, 2010
I believe the dark cloud that has shadowed us has blown out to sea or at least I hope. Several positive things happened today that makes me believe it to be the case. But that dark cloud had to get in one more downpour on me this morning--first thing-- before my karma changed. I'm not going to talk about what happened this morning now but might later as I don't want to concentrate on bad things. I am a firm believer that attitude is everything when it comes to life. A positive attitude attracts positive things, and if it doesn't then somebody is going to get their butt stomped.
I fixed the motorhome this morning. It seems that the air intake collects rainwater and funnels it into the engine where it collapses the air filter and starves the engine of air. Winnebago issued a recall on the air intake assembly but forgot to tell me about it. Bless their hearts. Bless their hearts is a polite Southern saying translating into somebody needs a butt stomping. The recall places a shield over the air intake to hinder the rainwater from entering. Well the recall repair isn't going to happen until we return home. So, I now have two spare air filters in The Love Boat's basement for the next rain shower. Good times Yall.
I've noticed that the locals are nice but rather redneckish. I've seen quite a few scary looking people but none of them were wearing NASCAR paraphernalia like rednecks do at home. I would call the lack of Earnhardtedness a good sign or at least I think so. I have seen my fair share of men with a waist length, braided pigtail similar to something you would expect to see in a kung fu movie. I guess if they let their pigtail grow longer than waist length, it might get caught in the chain of their motorcycle. What was really funny was a "lady" that we saw while having lunch at a sidewalk cafe. This heavy set "lady" got out of a battered pickup truck and was dressed in a short skirt, see through style top, and high heeled, wooden clog shoes. Yep, I said wooden clogs. When she walked on the sidewalk, she sort of waddled/stumbled down the sidewalk. I am not kidding you, she clunked herself down the sidewalk like a Clydesdale horse except a Clydesdale is graceful. I'm sure she has pulled a few beer wagons herself. I guess her shoes is a bold statement of form before function. Please let her image leave my brain. UNCLE, UNCLE (if you don't know what that means you should read yesterday's blog entry then read this one again).
Yesterday, we went to Bronner's Christmas Store in Frankenmuth, Michigan. Frankenmuth is a beautiful town. Bronner's is said to be the largest Christmas goods store in the world and an icon in the Christmas lighting crazies camp. I like Christmas, and I love Christmas lights. However, I just can't seem to buy a Christmas ornament shaped like a hairdryer that we saw in Bronners. Bronner's has every kind of Christmas ornament known to man and ornaments shaped like objects from many, many occupations. Thus the hair dryer for a hair stylist (Hi Mary), wrench for an auto mechanic, wooden shoes for a hooker, or a piece of dog poo for a lawyer. Bronner's was neat but every man has a horror story of some woman dragging him into a "Christmas store" to look around. A Christmas store is always filled with stuff to hang on a Christmas tree. You know, stuff like bobbles, sparkly things, and fake dead birds. Why would anybody want to put fake dead birds on a Christmas tree? Bronner's had several species of fake dead birds. We (Deb) bought a Christmas ornament shaped like a motorhome. Nothing says Christmas like motors, fiberglass, trailer parks, and fake dead birds. If that were the case then Merry Christmas from Sault Sainte Marie.
Oh, I was going to tell you about the tow truck driver from last night. This guy was twenty years old, had been to jail twice, and had lost his license for a year for drunk driving. He had a two year old child from a woman that he had lived with for three years. Well dern, he certainly has a good start on being a democrat much earlier than expected. I was impressed. He had never towed a motorhome before but was in constant contact by cellphone with his dad who had. He was concerned with driving on "the narrow streets" of Sault Sainte Marie. The roads in Sault Sainte Marie are as large as the roads in Raleigh. Big city traffic (tiny little Sault Sainte Marie) made him nervous too. But, but, but, he did get our motorhome safe and sound to our campsite. I knew that if I lived long enough, I would find a use for a democrat. He saved Deb and myself from certain harm last night. I am truly thankful for his help even though he concerned me as much as the bears in the woods near where we broke down.
In parting I have a wish for you. May your days be filled with dry air intakes, your tow truck driver be a republican, and your woman's shoes be pressure treated wood.
Al
I fixed the motorhome this morning. It seems that the air intake collects rainwater and funnels it into the engine where it collapses the air filter and starves the engine of air. Winnebago issued a recall on the air intake assembly but forgot to tell me about it. Bless their hearts. Bless their hearts is a polite Southern saying translating into somebody needs a butt stomping. The recall places a shield over the air intake to hinder the rainwater from entering. Well the recall repair isn't going to happen until we return home. So, I now have two spare air filters in The Love Boat's basement for the next rain shower. Good times Yall.
I've noticed that the locals are nice but rather redneckish. I've seen quite a few scary looking people but none of them were wearing NASCAR paraphernalia like rednecks do at home. I would call the lack of Earnhardtedness a good sign or at least I think so. I have seen my fair share of men with a waist length, braided pigtail similar to something you would expect to see in a kung fu movie. I guess if they let their pigtail grow longer than waist length, it might get caught in the chain of their motorcycle. What was really funny was a "lady" that we saw while having lunch at a sidewalk cafe. This heavy set "lady" got out of a battered pickup truck and was dressed in a short skirt, see through style top, and high heeled, wooden clog shoes. Yep, I said wooden clogs. When she walked on the sidewalk, she sort of waddled/stumbled down the sidewalk. I am not kidding you, she clunked herself down the sidewalk like a Clydesdale horse except a Clydesdale is graceful. I'm sure she has pulled a few beer wagons herself. I guess her shoes is a bold statement of form before function. Please let her image leave my brain. UNCLE, UNCLE (if you don't know what that means you should read yesterday's blog entry then read this one again).
Yesterday, we went to Bronner's Christmas Store in Frankenmuth, Michigan. Frankenmuth is a beautiful town. Bronner's is said to be the largest Christmas goods store in the world and an icon in the Christmas lighting crazies camp. I like Christmas, and I love Christmas lights. However, I just can't seem to buy a Christmas ornament shaped like a hairdryer that we saw in Bronners. Bronner's has every kind of Christmas ornament known to man and ornaments shaped like objects from many, many occupations. Thus the hair dryer for a hair stylist (Hi Mary), wrench for an auto mechanic, wooden shoes for a hooker, or a piece of dog poo for a lawyer. Bronner's was neat but every man has a horror story of some woman dragging him into a "Christmas store" to look around. A Christmas store is always filled with stuff to hang on a Christmas tree. You know, stuff like bobbles, sparkly things, and fake dead birds. Why would anybody want to put fake dead birds on a Christmas tree? Bronner's had several species of fake dead birds. We (Deb) bought a Christmas ornament shaped like a motorhome. Nothing says Christmas like motors, fiberglass, trailer parks, and fake dead birds. If that were the case then Merry Christmas from Sault Sainte Marie.
Oh, I was going to tell you about the tow truck driver from last night. This guy was twenty years old, had been to jail twice, and had lost his license for a year for drunk driving. He had a two year old child from a woman that he had lived with for three years. Well dern, he certainly has a good start on being a democrat much earlier than expected. I was impressed. He had never towed a motorhome before but was in constant contact by cellphone with his dad who had. He was concerned with driving on "the narrow streets" of Sault Sainte Marie. The roads in Sault Sainte Marie are as large as the roads in Raleigh. Big city traffic (tiny little Sault Sainte Marie) made him nervous too. But, but, but, he did get our motorhome safe and sound to our campsite. I knew that if I lived long enough, I would find a use for a democrat. He saved Deb and myself from certain harm last night. I am truly thankful for his help even though he concerned me as much as the bears in the woods near where we broke down.
In parting I have a wish for you. May your days be filled with dry air intakes, your tow truck driver be a republican, and your woman's shoes be pressure treated wood.
Al
Friday, June 25, 2010
Uncle, PTBSD, and Whining --Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan. June 25, 2010
Danger whining ahead. Proceed with caution at your own risk.
Uncle, uncle, uncle, UNCLE, UNCLE. There I called it. UNCLE. Please Lord make it stop. What a day we had. I troubleshot the stabilizer problem that I mention in yesterday's blog entry to a controller module. We took it to a dealership today and their service guys confirmed it is a controller module that they don't have in stock and will take a while to get. Uncle.. No problem, I studied the module and after a trip to Home Depot, bought the stuff to make a manual bypass. It will take a few minutes and will require crawling under the motorhome each time we camp, but it will work. McGuyer learned his stuff at University of Al. Uncle. No I don't have Turret's Syndrome. I just want to make sure that whatever is causing this meltdown of my karma understands that I give. You understand what I mean about the term uncle. It is when your older brother pushed your head in a mudpuddle until you yelled Uncle. Uncle.
After the morning spent dealing with the stabilizer problem, uncle, we left Detroit (pronounced DeeTroit in the South) and started the remaining 400 miles to Sault Sainte Marie where we are now. Uncle. The only problem is that the last 43 miles was by tow truck. Yep, we ran into rain and it made the motor stop. It was not rain but a torrential downpour and it made The Love Boat stop on the northern side of the Mackinac Bridge to which I will talk about tomorrow when I quit whining. Uncle. Anyway, the breakdown occurred in an incredibly isolated part of Michigan. The nearest tow truck was an hour drive away. UNCLE, UNCLE. I bought Good Sams Emergency Road Service last year. The tow today and tomorrow is paid by the road service to a tune of $275 today and $125 tomorrow. A young guy towed us to our campground. The tow truck driver and I talked about some bizarre stuff, again, to which I will talk about tomorrow. Deb and I are fine for the night and tomorrow we are being towed to a repair shop if they can find one. We may be here a couple extra days. Uncle. However, when we were on the side of the road I called my friend Walter who has helped me work on The Love Boat for almost a year. He knows The Love Boat as good or better than me. Walter suggested that I try the air filter for water since his truck has a similar design that routinely strands him in heavy rain. I removed the air filter and a lot of water came out. The repair to the motorhome may be as simple as an air filter. We shall see tomorrow. Uncle, uncle, uncle.
The puppies (Monty and Riley) are acclimating to the drive and may be fine if Monty's hair doesn't fallout due to PTBSD which is similar to PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). You know the disorder which soldiers sometimes acquire from combat. Many Vietnam veterans suffer from it. Anyway, PTBSD is Pupply Tramatic Brrrruuup Stress Disorder. It is caused by The Love Boat's tires crossing the rumble strip on the edge of the road--you know the grooves ground into the asphalt on interstates next to the white line. Each time the wind forced me over a little, and I drove to the side of the road, The Love Boat would make a loud BBBRRRRUUUUUUPPPPPP. That sound makes Monty lose his mind. He jumps up and dives for cover under somebody's feet or under a chair then acts demonized. It looks like he is having some of flashback from Vietnam and taking cover from artillery or something. We have found large quantities of dog hair in the front of The Love Boat which we believe to be Monty's hair falling out due to PTBSD. At this rate Monty will look like a Chinese Crested ( a bald dog) by the time we get home. BRRRRUUUPPP duck and cover Monty. Incoming. Monty said to tell you that he has declared uncle too. Uncle.
I have a gazillion funny things to talk about that have happened in the last couple of days, but I will save them until tomorrow when my composure returns. Uncle. We are on schedule but may need to modify our travel plans to accommodate some recent events. Uncle, uncle, uncle, and finally uncle.
Yours unclely,
Al
Uncle, uncle, uncle, UNCLE, UNCLE. There I called it. UNCLE. Please Lord make it stop. What a day we had. I troubleshot the stabilizer problem that I mention in yesterday's blog entry to a controller module. We took it to a dealership today and their service guys confirmed it is a controller module that they don't have in stock and will take a while to get. Uncle.. No problem, I studied the module and after a trip to Home Depot, bought the stuff to make a manual bypass. It will take a few minutes and will require crawling under the motorhome each time we camp, but it will work. McGuyer learned his stuff at University of Al. Uncle. No I don't have Turret's Syndrome. I just want to make sure that whatever is causing this meltdown of my karma understands that I give. You understand what I mean about the term uncle. It is when your older brother pushed your head in a mudpuddle until you yelled Uncle. Uncle.
After the morning spent dealing with the stabilizer problem, uncle, we left Detroit (pronounced DeeTroit in the South) and started the remaining 400 miles to Sault Sainte Marie where we are now. Uncle. The only problem is that the last 43 miles was by tow truck. Yep, we ran into rain and it made the motor stop. It was not rain but a torrential downpour and it made The Love Boat stop on the northern side of the Mackinac Bridge to which I will talk about tomorrow when I quit whining. Uncle. Anyway, the breakdown occurred in an incredibly isolated part of Michigan. The nearest tow truck was an hour drive away. UNCLE, UNCLE. I bought Good Sams Emergency Road Service last year. The tow today and tomorrow is paid by the road service to a tune of $275 today and $125 tomorrow. A young guy towed us to our campground. The tow truck driver and I talked about some bizarre stuff, again, to which I will talk about tomorrow. Deb and I are fine for the night and tomorrow we are being towed to a repair shop if they can find one. We may be here a couple extra days. Uncle. However, when we were on the side of the road I called my friend Walter who has helped me work on The Love Boat for almost a year. He knows The Love Boat as good or better than me. Walter suggested that I try the air filter for water since his truck has a similar design that routinely strands him in heavy rain. I removed the air filter and a lot of water came out. The repair to the motorhome may be as simple as an air filter. We shall see tomorrow. Uncle, uncle, uncle.
The puppies (Monty and Riley) are acclimating to the drive and may be fine if Monty's hair doesn't fallout due to PTBSD which is similar to PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). You know the disorder which soldiers sometimes acquire from combat. Many Vietnam veterans suffer from it. Anyway, PTBSD is Pupply Tramatic Brrrruuup Stress Disorder. It is caused by The Love Boat's tires crossing the rumble strip on the edge of the road--you know the grooves ground into the asphalt on interstates next to the white line. Each time the wind forced me over a little, and I drove to the side of the road, The Love Boat would make a loud BBBRRRRUUUUUUPPPPPP. That sound makes Monty lose his mind. He jumps up and dives for cover under somebody's feet or under a chair then acts demonized. It looks like he is having some of flashback from Vietnam and taking cover from artillery or something. We have found large quantities of dog hair in the front of The Love Boat which we believe to be Monty's hair falling out due to PTBSD. At this rate Monty will look like a Chinese Crested ( a bald dog) by the time we get home. BRRRRUUUPPP duck and cover Monty. Incoming. Monty said to tell you that he has declared uncle too. Uncle.
I have a gazillion funny things to talk about that have happened in the last couple of days, but I will save them until tomorrow when my composure returns. Uncle. We are on schedule but may need to modify our travel plans to accommodate some recent events. Uncle, uncle, uncle, and finally uncle.
Yours unclely,
Al
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Day One ,Amish Rush Hour--Perrysburg, OH June 24, 2010
Well, we finally left on the trip. We drove almost 615 miles today. I can't remember seeing so many traffic cones in my life from the construction zones. The campground we are staying in thinks it's The Ritz but they are mistaken. It is a KOA campground which we rarely ever use because KOAs are too expensive and not any different than the others. But it is a campground and we're done driving, for the day. I am thankful.
We decided to drive (The Love Boat pulling The Crapper) through a country section of Ohio called Route 250 (pronounced ROOT 2 fitty) that was interesting as well as 45 miles shorter. We took this route a time or two before but had forgotten how the Amish drive their horse drawn buggies on the side of the road. On prior trips through Root 2 Fitty, we saw a couple buggies at most. It was fun to see them the first couple of times, then it got old trying to not squish them as we passed them with The Love Boat. However, on this trip, we were traveling through at about 5pm and saw tons a buggies scooting around. It was an Amish rush hour. So, I got to thinking, where are they going so hurriedly? Happy hour at Billy Bob's Fine Beer,Wine,and Ammo Emporium? Nope. Maybe they were driving around trying to get a cell phone signal? Nope. I decided they were heading to Amish Gras which is similar to Mardi Gras but the guys drive buggies instead of parade floats and throw beaded necklaces to the Amish girls if the Amish girls show them their boobs. Now that I think about it, the last idea is kind of crazy. The Amish would never buy commercialized, beaded necklaces. The Amish and their ways remain a mystery.
Tomorrow we leave for Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan. It is 400 miles from our present location of the Perrysburg KOA. The Love Boat's stabilizers decided to quit working today, and I troubleshot the problem to the control panel. The stabilizers are hydraulic jacks mounted on the bottom of the motorhome that extend and keep the motorhome from bouncing when parked. We plan to get a new control panel in Michigan along the way--if we get lucky. We can use the RV without the stabilizers, but The Love Boat would certainly feel like the Captain Stubing version of The Love Boat.
I've got more information to tell you about but no more time. We drove too far today. If the motorhome is a rocking, don't come knocking cause the dern stabilizers ain't down.
Al
We decided to drive (The Love Boat pulling The Crapper) through a country section of Ohio called Route 250 (pronounced ROOT 2 fitty) that was interesting as well as 45 miles shorter. We took this route a time or two before but had forgotten how the Amish drive their horse drawn buggies on the side of the road. On prior trips through Root 2 Fitty, we saw a couple buggies at most. It was fun to see them the first couple of times, then it got old trying to not squish them as we passed them with The Love Boat. However, on this trip, we were traveling through at about 5pm and saw tons a buggies scooting around. It was an Amish rush hour. So, I got to thinking, where are they going so hurriedly? Happy hour at Billy Bob's Fine Beer,Wine,and Ammo Emporium? Nope. Maybe they were driving around trying to get a cell phone signal? Nope. I decided they were heading to Amish Gras which is similar to Mardi Gras but the guys drive buggies instead of parade floats and throw beaded necklaces to the Amish girls if the Amish girls show them their boobs. Now that I think about it, the last idea is kind of crazy. The Amish would never buy commercialized, beaded necklaces. The Amish and their ways remain a mystery.
Tomorrow we leave for Sault Sainte Marie, Michigan. It is 400 miles from our present location of the Perrysburg KOA. The Love Boat's stabilizers decided to quit working today, and I troubleshot the problem to the control panel. The stabilizers are hydraulic jacks mounted on the bottom of the motorhome that extend and keep the motorhome from bouncing when parked. We plan to get a new control panel in Michigan along the way--if we get lucky. We can use the RV without the stabilizers, but The Love Boat would certainly feel like the Captain Stubing version of The Love Boat.
I've got more information to tell you about but no more time. We drove too far today. If the motorhome is a rocking, don't come knocking cause the dern stabilizers ain't down.
Al
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
One week left until we leave--June 15, 2010 Raleigh NC
In just one week we begin our trip to Canada. The last few weeks have flown by, and we are in the final preparations for the trip. Planning a trip that will last five weeks and cover almost 6000 miles can be kind of tough. We are not new at this having experienced three round trips of this magnitude. Two of the trips have been cross country and the other was to the same place we are going-- Naicam, Saskatchewan. And when I say we, I mean we to include The Puppies. Those dogs are better traveled than most humans.
Speaking of The Puppies (Monty and Riley), The Puppies understand many words; I would estimate a couple hundred. We use those words in sentences, and they seem to understand the sentences. One of their new sentences is "Do the puppies want to go for a house ride?" That would mean going for a ride in The Love Boat (our motorhome for you newbies). The Wieners (another name for The Puppies) aren't fond of going for rides in the motorhome, because up until last year when we got The Love Boat, their house didn't move or at least with them in it. We owned a travel trailer and The Wieners only occupied it while it was stationary. You should have seen their faces when the house started moving for the first time--too funny. But they do love an adventure like running around in the desert or playing in water or at least Monty does as Riley doesn't like getting his wittle toes wet.
The PT Crapper (our PT Cruiser towed vehicle or commonly referred to as "toad") is almost ready to go. It has been in the repair shop for some semi-expensive repairs. But, The Crapper is fit and raring to go.
My humor will return as my workload diminishes, and I have more time to write. See Yall in a few days. BTW, if you join the blog as a "Follower", I'm told that the system will send you an email when I update the blog. Besides, it makes me feel like I have groupies.
Al
Speaking of The Puppies (Monty and Riley), The Puppies understand many words; I would estimate a couple hundred. We use those words in sentences, and they seem to understand the sentences. One of their new sentences is "Do the puppies want to go for a house ride?" That would mean going for a ride in The Love Boat (our motorhome for you newbies). The Wieners (another name for The Puppies) aren't fond of going for rides in the motorhome, because up until last year when we got The Love Boat, their house didn't move or at least with them in it. We owned a travel trailer and The Wieners only occupied it while it was stationary. You should have seen their faces when the house started moving for the first time--too funny. But they do love an adventure like running around in the desert or playing in water or at least Monty does as Riley doesn't like getting his wittle toes wet.
The PT Crapper (our PT Cruiser towed vehicle or commonly referred to as "toad") is almost ready to go. It has been in the repair shop for some semi-expensive repairs. But, The Crapper is fit and raring to go.
My humor will return as my workload diminishes, and I have more time to write. See Yall in a few days. BTW, if you join the blog as a "Follower", I'm told that the system will send you an email when I update the blog. Besides, it makes me feel like I have groupies.
Al
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Trailer Trash Jello and My Wife -- Raleigh, NC June 1, 2010
I've noticed a new habit for my wife. I'm not sure how to accept it. In addition, I have noticed how Monty and Deb are very similar. In case you haven't kept up with my stupid blog, Monty and Riley are our 8 year old puppies. Monty will learn something new and retain it before you realize what happens, and so does my wife. Just so you don't have to read through all of my God awful prior posts, we were in Las Cruces, New Mexico earlier this year when Deb discovered Trailer Trash Jello. Yes that is the place with the pig heads in the Walmart cooler. Maybe you should go read that post, because it was quite funny. The puppies really enjoyed playing with the pigheads. Where was I? While we were perusing the pigheads in Las Cruces, NM, Deb discovered parfait Jello. Southerners know that mess as Jello with whipped cream swirled into it. We call it Trailer Trash Jello or at least that is what the heathens that used to call me a friend would say. So I put on my Dr. Phil glasses to exam this situation a month or so ago as Trailer Trash Jello consistently showed up in The Love Boat refrigerator each time we left port. Having lived with my lovely wife for nearly fifteen years, I know she is a creature of habit much as myself and more recognizably, Monty. Deb goes shopping for food for our trip, and she brings it back to the truck where Monty and Riley are waiting. Deb puts the groceries into the truck and Monty surely says to Deb, "Did you get Trailer Trash Jello?" since Monty never forgets anything. If you want to know where you left your car keys ask Monty.
Now Trailer Trash Jello isn't available in our local hoity toity groceries. No sir. It ain't available in this county. We have to go to Durham county to get Trailer Trash Jello. Monty and Riley would far prefer the pig heads to Trailer Trash Jello but beggars can't be choosers unless they are democrats (yes I didn't capitalize democrats). To make matters more complicated, it has to be sugar free Trailer Trash Jello. Do Yall know how hard it is to find Sugar Free Trailer Trash Jello? Well just ask Deb because it consistently shows up in the Love Boat's refrigerator. Now enquiring minds (no I didn't misspell it references a 80's era commercial) want to know does it show up in the Super Duper, Doubled Door, NASA, Energy Star rated, refrigerator that the democrats gave us a tax break to buy using debt which will likely be paid by our grandchildren ? Not hardly. Is your head spinning around like Linda Blair on Michael J. Fox's lap? I'll slow down the pace a little. Yes we bought this behemoth refrigerator for our house that has a control panel with buttons that does all kinds of stuff that we don't have time to read to try to understand what they mean. It has little picture things that makes sounds and cool lights and buzzers and stuff. But does it squirt out cold water? No, it surely has prostate problems as the water trickles out. But, more importantly, does it have Trailer Trash Jello? Nope. That delicacy is reserved for the mobile refrigerator. When in Rome do as the Roman do.
We leave for Canada in a couple weeks.
Now Trailer Trash Jello isn't available in our local hoity toity groceries. No sir. It ain't available in this county. We have to go to Durham county to get Trailer Trash Jello. Monty and Riley would far prefer the pig heads to Trailer Trash Jello but beggars can't be choosers unless they are democrats (yes I didn't capitalize democrats). To make matters more complicated, it has to be sugar free Trailer Trash Jello. Do Yall know how hard it is to find Sugar Free Trailer Trash Jello? Well just ask Deb because it consistently shows up in the Love Boat's refrigerator. Now enquiring minds (no I didn't misspell it references a 80's era commercial) want to know does it show up in the Super Duper, Doubled Door, NASA, Energy Star rated, refrigerator that the democrats gave us a tax break to buy using debt which will likely be paid by our grandchildren ? Not hardly. Is your head spinning around like Linda Blair on Michael J. Fox's lap? I'll slow down the pace a little. Yes we bought this behemoth refrigerator for our house that has a control panel with buttons that does all kinds of stuff that we don't have time to read to try to understand what they mean. It has little picture things that makes sounds and cool lights and buzzers and stuff. But does it squirt out cold water? No, it surely has prostate problems as the water trickles out. But, more importantly, does it have Trailer Trash Jello? Nope. That delicacy is reserved for the mobile refrigerator. When in Rome do as the Roman do.
We leave for Canada in a couple weeks.
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