Monthly Archives: June 2013

Vermont Part II: Fairfax

The route up I-89 was another beautiful drive. We passed through Montpelier and Burlington, but never really saw any buildings along the highway. In Texas, when an Interstate passes through a city, the commercial establishments in that community are located right along the feeder road adjacent to the highway. Up here in the Northeast, the exits lead away from the highway and the businesses are not visible to passing traffic. These roads were here first, so why didn’t the traffic engineers down south take this clue when they designed corridors like I-45, I-35 and I-10? The roadway designs up here contribute to a much more pleasant travel experience… that is for sure!

Our second campground in Vermont was located in Fairfax, which is about 25 miles north of Burlington. When I inquired about the roads coming into Fairfax, the campground owner said there were two ways to get there. We could take Exit 18 off of I-89 and go north to our destination, or we could take Exit 19 and double-back to go south toward Maple Grove Campground. The route via Exit 19 was longer, but the road was better, so that was the route we selected. I am usually good with directions, but this trip got me all turned around. We exited #19, but turned the wrong way when we got to the next intersection. Pretty soon we were traveling down a VERY skinny shoulder-less two-lane road toward some town I had not heard of as we researched the drive on this leg of the trip. Don’t forget: there is no backing up in this rig. Every road we came to had weight restrictions of no more than 24,000 lbs. With all of our 44,000 pounds beneath us, we had to keep driving. We were getting nervous. Finally, Mike spotted a patch of gravel at the edge of a field and quickly turned in. We pulled up maps on the iPad AND our phones to see where we had gone wrong. I was still directionally challenged at this moment, but Mike figured it out and made a big u-turn through the muddy gravel to get us pointed in the right direction. The farm owner was sitting on his front porch across the street watching the whole thing. He waived at us with a big smile as we drove off, and I sheepishly returned the greeting. We did eventually find the campground, and got situated that afternoon without any more confusion.

The small town of Fairfax had one roadside market, two bakeries, two gas stations, a hardware store, a post office, a pharmacy and a restaurant. St. Albans was the next largest community about 10 miles to the north of us, and this is where we had to go for groceries and other errands. It was time to re-stock the pantry and refrigerator, so we drove into town the next day to scope things out and get the items on our list. As we were exploring the area we found a State Park called Kill Kare on the shore of Lake Champlain at St. Albans Bay. It was already 4:30 by the time we stumbled upon the area, so we made a note to return on another day earlier in the afternoon.

On our third day at Maple Grove, the weather was incredibly beautiful and we wanted to enjoy the sunshine for as long as possible. We made our way back down to Burlington (primarily because there was a Petsmart located there) for a quick errand and some sight-seeing. After we bought the dog food in the suburbs, we headed to downtown to see how the locals lived. I didn’t realize Burlington is a waterfront community. Their downtown sits right on the banks of Lake Champlain with parks, walking trails, marinas and other attractions all facing the water. We walked the dogs along a hike-and-bike trail to wear them out a bit, and then we found a waterfront restaurant that would allow them to sit with us on the patio. We had a drink and worshipped the sun as we watched passengers board water ferries that carried travelers to the Champlain Islands or Upstate New York.

After that stop we left the water’s edge and headed uphill into the thick of downtown. Church Street is a four-block pedestrian mall that has been blocked to automobiles. It is a bustling corridor crowded with retail establishments, sidewalk entertainers (i.e.: homeless people with guitars), and outdoor cafés. We made our way down the length of the street and stopped into a couple of spots for al fresco drinks and appetizers. It was all a very charming atmosphere until I watched one of the street performers ruffle through a sidewalk trash can, pull a Styrofoam food container from the rubble, and eat the remainder of its contents. Gross. The charm factor was immediately decreased by several notches.

It was mid-week by now and the sun was still going strong, so we packed up our chairs and Mike’s fishing gear for an afternoon at Kill Kare. This state park is located on a peninsula and used to be a summer camp for boys back in the day. They don’t allow dogs on the beaches or in any of the “day use” areas of this park, so we were very restricted on where we could go with Piper and Cessna. We were basically allowed to walk them around the parking lot. The main attraction at Kill Kare is a ferry that shuttles visitors to another State Park on Burton Island. Burton Island State Park has fishing, camping, walking trails, a marina, a restaurant, and no cars. Campers and visitors park at Kill Kare to catch the ferry with all of their gear and make their way to the next tiny island. We got there at 1:00 in the afternoon, but the next ferry did not leave until 2:30. The park ranger- lady was very nice and must have felt sorry for us. She let us occupy a picnic spot that was located near the edge of the ferry landing. The area was away from the other picnic tables, and the dogs promised to be on their best behavior. Mike fished for small-mouth bass while the dogs napped and I soaked up the sunshine. We spent a few hours enjoying the weather and scenery before making our way back to our own camp late in the afternoon. Game 7 of the NBA Championships was that evening and we wanted to be home in time to root for the Spurs.

The Maple Grove Campground was very small with only about 30 spots. Most of the other campers were “seasonals”, there to enjoy the entire summer. Lucky for us, they had camped here before and knew the area. When our neighbor, Bill, spotted Mike’s fishing gear he was happy to guide him to a great fishing hole just down the road. With Bill’s advice, Mike found his way to some falls beneath a dam that happened to be a hot spot for trout fishing. Mike went down a couple of times and got lucky with a few catches. We were able to have “brownies” for dinner one night… but they were pan fried in butter and olive oil as opposed to being baked in the oven. He gave the other trout to Bill and his wife as thanks for pointing him in the right direction.

Our only other “field trip” on this stop was to Stowe. We took a 45-minute drive through the mountains one morning because we planned to find a place to eat breakfast in this resort area. We arrived in town and kept driving up the mountain toward the ski resorts looking for a place we could eat outside. The weather was beautiful again, and we were hoping we could find somewhere that allowed dogs on the patio. The search took up most of our morning because very few places were open for breakfast, and the ones that were did not even allow us to tie the dogs to a fence anywhere near their establishments. It was also warm that day, so we couldn’t leave the dogs in the car and let them wait for us. We did find an outdoor café right on Main Street where we could eat, but by the time we placed our orders breakfast was over. We settled for soup and sandwiches. After lunch, we walked the length of the central business district – which took about 20 minutes. We made our way back to camp along another route down the mountain, and spent the rest of the day relaxing with a campfire.

The last three days of our stay at Maple Grove were rain outs. No grilling dinner outside. Our usual routine is to cook outside when at all possible. On our last night I had run out of ideas for menus that could be cooked on the stove-top. We decided to go into town and eat at the Country Pantry. One of my favorite parts of this trip is visiting mom-and-pop establishments that embody the American entrepreneurial spirit. This restaurant was a great example of that. It was owned by a couple from Bosnia who had immigrated to the United States. Upon arriving, they first landed jobs washing dishes and doing other odd jobs. They briefly moved to Florida but returned to Vermont because they liked it better. (I’m guessing the weather and terrain in Vermont more closely resemble their homeland than does Florida). With help from a mentor who was also in the restaurant business, they opened their restaurant in Fairfax and found success. The charming restaurant was meticulously clean, the service was attentive, and the food was fresh and delicious. I had salmon and Mike had bacon wrapped meatloaf. He even splurged and ordered bread pudding with maple syrup and vanilla ice cream for dessert. It was obvious that everything was made from scratch with fresh ingredients. By the time we finished our dinner, the sun was trying to make a brief appearance through breaks in the clouds before it set. It was a perfect ending to a wonderful 10-day stay in the northwestern corner of the Green Mountain State.

The next morning we packed up early in an attempt to get away before the forecasted rain started up again. After bidding farewell to our wonderful neighbors, we pulled out of Maple Grove and drove east through Vermont and most of New Hampshire. Our next campground was located near the border of New Hampshire and Maine. Although our trek was only 116 miles, we knew it would take us about 3.5 hours to make the drive through the mountains. If we could make the trip on dry roads, the experience was guaranteed to be much less stressful.

The view during our day at Kill Kare State Park.

Lake Champlain water is so clear.

Mike’s fishing hole.

Sunset on our last night in Fairfax.

The marina in downtown Burlington.

Windmills at the next “hill” over from our campground.

Vermont Part I: East Thetford

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As we begin to navigate our way through the Northeast, we really need to pay special attention to the routes and roads we choose for our travels. The terrain is more mountainous, and we want to stay on major interstate or intrastate highways. The Monaco is a bit too large to amble down winding 2-lane country roads with no shoulder – that is what the Honda is for. If we were to come upon a low bridge crossing, a weight restricted bridge, or one of the many historic covered bridges in Vermont, it would be a nightmare. There is no backing up in this bus, especially with the car hooked up behind us.

There are 2 interstate highways that run through Vermont. I-91 runs the length of the state from south to north. I-89 starts about midway through the state and cuts a diagonal line from the eastern side to the northwestern corner, ending at the Canadian border. We found a small private campground close to the I-91 and I-89 intersection called the Rest-N-Nest. They could accommodate a rig of our size, had water/sewer/ 30 amp electric hook-ups, offered a Good Sam discount, and had spaces available for the dates we wanted. Since most of our criteria were satisfied, we made reservations and headed there from our spot in New York.

We made most of the drive in the drizzling rain and reached our destination in about 5 hours. I had only been to Vermont once in the winter, but this time there was no question why they call this the Green Mountain State. The mountains and fields are flowing ribbons of vivid green. As you look in the distance it appears that an artist has isolated that section on the color wheel and painted a picture with every imaginable hue of emerald, jade, olive, lime or kelly. Of course the leaves of the trees are green, but there is more. The floor in the woods is not dirt or pine straw; it is underbrush of feathery fern and other varieties of lush groundcover. Even the boulders have green moss growing on them. The drive up the interstate was actually featured as a scenic drive in our 2012 Rand McNally Road Atlas. It was like we were driving through a postcard the whole trip.

I looked up the meaning of green and learned that it symbolizes growth, harmony and freshness. There is a strong emotional correspondence between this color and safety. It is the most restful color for the human eye and has great healing power. It suggests stability and endurance. Yes, even though the weather was crappy, we were in blissful moods when we got to the Rest-N-Nest. We had outrun the rain for the moment, so we had the chance to set up camp without our umbrellas or rain ponchos. The rain started up again once we were settled and kept coming down for the next 36 hours, or so. We were so peaceful and safe that it didn’t matter in the least!

We were ready to get out and about on the third day of our stop since the skies had dried up for the moment. I had asked our hosts at the campground about some local restaurants we should try and we were pointed to a place down the road called Isabella’s for breakfast. She said the place served breakfast and lunch, but we should do breakfast since they served local Vermont Maple Syrup with their pancakes and French toast. Sold! The tiny family-owned diner had about 8 tables and a counter. Breakfast was delicious and gave us the jolt we needed to run our weekly errands. Our list included groceries, a credit union that reciprocated services with FAAFCU, and an auto parts store. The closest town that offered those conveniences was Lebanon, New Hampshire. Vermont and New Hampshire are separated by the Connecticut River, so we had another picture postcard drive for about 15 miles south along the water before we reached Lebanon.

Vermont is the 49th state when ranked by population. The towns are tiny, and it seems like driving 20 miles to run basic errands is no big deal to its residents. During the brutally cold winters I can see where this could get old fast. However, with the views during summer, I started making up errands I needed to run… just to go for a scenic drive every once in a while. This is why I wasn’t worried when the “super” Wal-Mart we selected for grocery shopping had no produce section. Mike found out from the bank teller that Hanover had a Farmer’s Market on the campus Green of Dartmouth College from 4 – 7 that afternoon. I wondered if Ivy League vegetables were better than regular Farmer’s Market veggies. We returned to the Rest-N-Nest to drop off our purchases and my husband. Then I left for another drive along the river to scratch more items from my grocery list. As I left the bus, Mike warned me to go easy on the bread.

I found the tents and a parking space fairly easily. The school year was just ending, so students were moving out of dorms and rental houses on every corner. It seemed like everyone was walking down the sidewalk with a suitcase or a dolly stacked with boxes. I grabbed my earth-friendly shopping totes and headed for the goods. It wasn’t a big outfit, but the vendors offered everything one could possibly need: from eggs to jewelry to brick-oven fired pizza for snacking. I went from tent to tent with my list and got almost everything we needed to last another week. My bags were full with eggs, bread (only one loaf), spinach, lettuce, tomatoes, strawberries, cheese, scallions, salsa, and more. Mike only told me to go easy on BREAD, but I didn’t give him a chance to mention anything else from the baked goods category. This is how I justified stopping at a tent from a local bakery on the way out. I abided by his request while purchasing a couple of muffins for breakfast and some granola to go with my Greek yogurt. I veered away from their cinnamon loaf and bagels, so I think I did great!

Another outing suggested by our hosts was the Quechee Gorge. About 20 miles southwest of us was “Vermont’s Little Grand Canyon”, one of New England’s most popular natural wonders. The brochure said a trip through central Vermont was not complete without a visit to this spectacular site. We definitely wanted our trip to be complete, so we loaded up the dogs and headed that direction. We were not disappointed. A waterfall cascades 163 feet down through a canyon to the Ottauquechee River below. There are walking trails extending in both directions from the falls, and a state park is situated adjacent to the natural attraction. We walked the dogs to the end of the trail in one direction, and then turned around and walked along a path DOWN to the river then back UP again. On this day we were able to get double credit on one activity: visit tourist attraction and work out the glutes… check. Just as we reached the top again, it started to rain. I had wanted to stop into some little shops near the area, but lost interest when the atmosphere stopped cooperating. Instead we opted to find a little watering hole where we could grab a drink and watch some of the U.S. Open Golf Tournament on television. We drove in search of somewhere for about an hour before we gave up and headed back home. Casa Martin turned out to be a great place to grab a drink and some golf on the big screen.

I took Mike and the dogs back to Hanover one afternoon to poke around for a while. We walked around the tiny town looking for a place with a patio that allowed dogs so we could grab a snack and do some people watching. Unfortunately there is no such establishment in Hanover. There were plenty of places we wanted to stop into, but none would allow dogs. After Cessna and Piper were tired from their little tour of the college town, we parked the car in a lower level of a parking garage where it was dark and cold. They waited for us in the back of the Honda with the windows rolled down while we had a tiny pub crawl. Hanover was even more chaotic on this Friday afternoon than it had been on my previous visit. Not only were students still shuffling down the sidewalks toting most of their belongings, incoming freshmen were meandering around in what looked like some sort of orientation program. To top it off, it was graduation weekend and there were hundreds of alumni in town for little mini-reunions. Everyone had a name tag and was wearing Dartmouth colors. We were just dressed normally, and I was kind of glad we weren’t sporting any U.T. gear that day. It would have been harder to blend in if our burnt orange clashed with all the green. We ended up talking to a former baseball coach while we were at the Canoe Club. Among some of the other things we talked about, he told us that the Quechee Gorge Bridge is a popular spot from which people jump to their death. Turns out that men mostly jump with their shoes on, while women seem to always take them off and place them on the sidewalk before the fall.

Our final excursion from the Rest-N-Nest was to one of those events we got lucky to stumble upon. The 34th Annual Quechee Hot Air Balloon, Craft, and Music Festival was scheduled for our last weekend in the area. The balloons were scheduled to take off at 6am and 6pm both Saturday and Sunday. Saturday’s weather was predicted to be the most pleasant, so that is the day we chose to drive over and check it out. We got there around 4 in the afternoon so we could explore some of the festival before the balloons took off. We had a drink in the beer tent, sampled a lobster roll and savory crepes from the food court, and then strolled through the vendor areas looking at jewelry, stained glass and other festival crafts. After we had seen all we wanted to see, we parked ourselves out in the open field to see about the hot air balloons. When we sat down the crowd was gathered around the edges of an empty field.

We didn’t exactly know what to expect, but we bided our time with some more good people watching. After a while the balloon crews started coming into the field with their trucks and trailers. We watched them unload their baskets and lay out the balloons. It was getting close to the 6:00 hour, but it didn’t look like these guys were in too much of a hurry to get up and going. By 6:30 we were about to give up when the first balloon started inflating. The crowd got energized with all the buzz. There was a giant roar when the first balloon started floating up into the air. The once empty field was now jam-packed with a rainbow of colors and the sounds of each pilot firing their burners into the balloon envelopes. I would estimate there were twenty or more balloons that participated in the event. After about a dozen were in the air above us, we made our way back to the car and watched them glide over the mountain tops for most of our drive home. The next morning we found out that two of our neighbor campers had been up in one of them that night! The lucky ladies had chosen to attend the festival and take a ride as part of dual milestone birthday celebrations.

Our last Sunday in Central Vermont was a rainy Father’s Day. We passed the time by calling our dad’s and watching the golf tournament. I took the opportunity to sit at my computer for most of the day and finish another entry to the blog. The skies cleared slightly once evening arrived so we were able to grill some pork chops for dinner. We have learned that travel days are not very enjoyable if too much fun is had the night before, so we had made it an early bedtime and got good rest before heading out toward Burlington the next morning.

We found the beer (and wine) tent at the festival!

Finally, the balloons started inflating.

The frenzy.

We got to watch them in the air for half of the drive home.

My bounty from the farmer’s market in Hanover, N. H.

A section of the walking trail at Quechee Gorge.

Site 7 at Rest N Nest Campground.

New York Part I: Hudson Valley

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Our first day at Yogi Bear’s Jellystone Park Camp Resort at Lazy River was very uneventful. We were both exhausted from our road trip. We didn’t push ourselves, but it was still an intense four days and we both just wanted to relax and recharge. I did laundry and other house chores. Mike unloaded our car and set up our camp outside. We walked around the park in between tennis and golf matches on television. For dinner we grilled some chicken and corn, so it was a nice day after our travel extravaganza.

We had just effectively spent 7 weeks at the beach, so the Hudson River Valley brought an enormous change of scenery for us to absorb. Everything was so green and lush. I didn’t have any expectations about the landscape as we planned our stay in New York, so I was very excited to be surrounded by such majestic natural beauty. We had never stayed at a Yogi Bear Jellystone Park Campground before, but it is a franchise with about 75 locations in the U.S. The price was a higher rate than our usual state park fees. However, the state parks in New York do not have water and sewer connections so we opted to pay more for the convenience. Our campground was so beautiful, we weren’t in a real rush to get out and explore our surroundings by car yet. We were having fun walking the dogs and enjoying the landscape. Mike got his New York fishing license online, so he promptly found a spot along the Wall Kill to fish for catfish. This is the week I learned Kill is another word for River. The weather was overcast our first couple of days, but the second night it cleared up and we got to see the International Space Station fly over us as we walked the dogs before bed.

After we got our energy levels back up to normal, we decided to take a daytrip over to Hyde Park. Most National Historic Site’s allow dogs on the grounds, so we took Piper and Cessna with us on our explorations. The weather on this day was perfect. The temperature in the air was brisk, the sky was a bright clear blue, and the sun was shining so that it made everything seem to sparkle. The trip to Hyde Park was about 45 minutes via a two-lane winding road that passed quaint cottages and quintessential New England farm estates.

Our first stop was The Vanderbilt Mansion. This estate of Frederick William and Louise Vanderbilt was their favorite weekend property, even though they also had places in Bar Harbor, Newport, and the Adirondacks. The house was a giant mansion, but the grounds of the estate were most impressive to us. We walked the dogs around the wandering lawn peppered with enormous trees, through the formal gardens, and over to a scenic lookout at the top of a ridge. I was going to go on a guided tour of the inside of the house, but we forgot our National Park Pass back at the bus. Mike would have had to wait for me outside with the dogs for an hour, so I decided to pass. We left the Vanderbilt’s and headed to the Roosevelt’s.

Franklin D. Roosevelt was from Hyde Park. He is buried there now, alongside Eleanor Roosevelt (another American Icon in her own right) in the Rose Garden on the grounds of his family’s historic estate. The Home of FDR National Historic Site centers around Springwood: the birthplace, residence and “summer White House” of the 32^nd President and the only President elected to four terms. The 300 acre estate includes the Rose Garden, a Visitor Center, Museum / Library, the residence, and many walking paths. Ten minutes down the road, (once the back edge of the family’s property) sits the Eleanor Roosevelt National Historic Site.

One tidbit I found interesting was that FDR’s mother was quite overbearing and accompanied the young couple EVERYWHERE when they were first married. Eleanor’s mother-in-law, Sara, built and decorated their New York City townhouse, went with them to their vacation home in New Brunswick, and was always present when they were at the manor house at Springwood. Later after Franklin became active in politics, his mother backed off because she disapproved of his public career. There was a particular spot on the Roosevelt estate that the family liked to picnic. The spot was by a stream, Fall Kill. One day Eleanor was complaining to her friends that Sara was closing the big house for the year, making that the last outing of their season. Franklin suggested that she and her friends build a cottage nearby where they could enjoy the place year-round. He offered several acres of land to the women for their lifetime use. They built a small fieldstone house and christened it Val-Kill after a nearby stream. This is where Eleanor hosted world leaders, entertained delinquent children, and lived the last 20 years after her husband’s death.

After all the grounds-touring the dogs were tired of their American history lesson. Before we headed back toward our camp, we stopped in Poughkeepsie at a place called the Ice House for lunch at the edge of the Hudson River. We had a view of two bridges from our table, one was for cars and the other was now a state park for pedestrians only. Anytime we can find a spot to eat outside near water that allows dogs, it is a good day.

A unique thing about the park we were staying in this week was that it was just across the river from a Skydiving Operation. The first couple of days were overcast, so they weren’t too busy and we didn’t catch on immediately. We kept seeing a Twin Otter plane taking off right over us. Each time he took off, he was HEAVY and seemed like he was just dangling in the air above us rather than actually gaining altitude. After about the fourth time the plane took off, we noticed things were falling from the sky… oh wait, those were humans! All week we would watch the plane take off and we figured out the schedule. It was a 30 minute ordeal. About 15 minutes after the Twin Otter passed above us is when they would start jumping. We could see them free-fall and then hear the swoosh when they pulled the chute. After that we would hear lots of whooping and hollering and watch them float down to the landing zone right next door. I kept telling Mike that it HAD to be common for some of those jumpers to land in our field by accident. I waited all week until my prediction came true.

Our last Sunday in the park was another extraordinary weather day. The first plane took off at 8:00 AM and they left out every thirty minutes until dark. I had taken Piper on a little hike in the middle of the afternoon. We were headed back to the Monaco when something started falling from the sky and landed about 20 yards in front of us. It was canvas with a string. Just about that time I heard a very loud swoosh directly above us, and before I knew it we were watching one of the jumpers land in the open field in front of us. Cool! I was desperate to run up and ask him all kinds of questions, but we just kept walking casually at our normal pace. He had landed on his feet and didn’t look panicked or like anything was amiss, but I did happen to know he probably did not plan to be where he was at the moment.

Another camper dad and his boys ran up and started to talk to the jumper as he was packing up his gear. They chatted for a moment and then walked off. About this time I was approaching the skydiver, so I asked him if he needed a ride. He didn’t skip a beat when he answered “that would be great”. I told him I would go put up my dog and get the car. When I told Mike one of the sky divers had landed in the field and I was giving him a ride back to the Sky Ranch, he looked at me at curiously. I explained that I wanted to interview the jumper and find out as much as possible about this whole operation next to us, and this would be the best way to do it without looking too nosy. I could be helpful the whole time I was asking him questions on the drive back! It was a perfect plan.

I never got the guy’s name, but he spoke with a foreign accent. He had been jumping for about 20 years. He was from the Finger Lakes region in upstate New York, and had come for a skydiving weekend with one of his buddies. They could go up as many times as they wanted, each jump was $25. This was his third jump of the day. He figured they would do about 6 or 8 jumps before sundown. The canvas bag that fell out of the sky before him was the back-up chute, and it is supposed to do that. He was too low and close to the river when he spotted the drop zone on this jump, so he decided to land at the campground instead because of the giant open field in the middle. The Sky Ranch, itself, was a teaming operation. There were hundreds of cars in the parking lot. People were everywhere. Some jumpers were climbing into the next plane as others were raining from the sky, one person touching down every second, it seemed. They even had a restaurant bar inside one of the hangers that faced the drop zone. If we had known that, we would have made our way over to enjoy lunch and drinks with a front row view! Just as I drove back into our campground and parked at our spot, another jumper landed in our field. Sorry dude, you’ll have to find someone else to give you a ride back – I have all the information I need for now.

Mike had called a mobile RV repair business to come look at the leak in my sink drain pipe. We waited for the guy to come out all morning on a Thursday. He finally arrived around 1pm, took a 5-second look at the pipe, and asked if he could send one of his technicians out in the morning. Great, we could repeat our morning of waiting again on Friday! The technician did show up on time Friday morning, and told us to wait about an hour before we used the sink in order for the bonding agent to dry. We did better than that… we waited an entire day. When I ran the sink Saturday morning, we discovered it was still leaking. Imagine the feeling of joy and happiness in our house at that moment. Mike called the guy back and this time our repair man friend said he would be out on Sunday. This was good news since we were leaving on Monday and really wanted to have this issue resolved. When Sunday rolled around we waited all day again for the guy to show up… but he called at 2PM instead to say that his technician would be out at 8:30 on Monday morning to get us fixed. This did not bring me a large level of confidence about the whole situation… Not to mention I was a bit ticked about having waited around most of the day for nothing. In the end, Paul the technician was on time Monday. He immediately realized what he had forgotten to do to the repair job last Thursday. Lucky for us he had re-fixed the leak and was gone within 10 minutes this time. The best part of the ordeal was: that after all that, I could use my sink again.

Directly across the road from Yogi Bear’s Park were a Whisky Distillery and a wonderful restaurant located inside a Grist Mill established in 1788 and now a National Historic Landmark. Tuthilltown Spirits is the first whisky distillery in New York State in over 80 years. The craft distillery makes fine aged grain and fruit spirits from the harvest of local Hudson Valley Farms. We visited their tasting room and tried some versions of their Hudson Whisky. I don’t care for whiskey, but Whisky Magazine voted the place Craft Whiskey Distillery of the Year, so we thought we would give it a try. After our tastings, we crossed the street to have dinner at Tuthill House at the Mill. The Grist Mill sits above the Shawangunk Kill and was a continuously operated water powered flour mill up until the early 80’s. The reason they were able to stay successful for so long was two-fold. First, they supplied kosher Flour to the Rabbi’s in the Burroughs of New York City. Very few mills were willing or able to take the time to follow the process it takes to produce kosher flour. Second, many sections of the cogs and wheels inside the mechanisms of the mill were made of wood instead of metal. This meant less chance for sparks and fires, which ultimately destroyed so many other Mills across the region and nation. The owners of the Mill/ Restaurant bought the property and planned to convert it into a restaurant with a time-frame of one year. Three years later they were finally able to open for business.

That dinner turned into a very fun surprise date night. The building and scenery were so incredible; we ended up enjoying a 4-hour dinner before the night was over. I had teased Mike because we had the place all to ourselves and I accused him of renting the place out just for us to have a private dinner. When we first arrived we opted to sit outside on a covered porch. It was raining outside, but only slightly, and we were protected so it wasn’t a bother. There were a few other couples eating inside, but we were alone in the outdoor section. Our table was directly above the waterfall section of the Kill. The music of birds was just a backdrop to the sounds of rushing water below us and light rain surrounding us. There was a national geographic view of trees, water, and birds everywhere we looked. We were even able to watch a token deer graze far off at the other edge of a neighboring field. All of this atmosphere made for a very romantic dinner spot and Mike acted like he planned the whole thing. We had martinis and an Antipasto Plate outside until the air got a little cooler at sunset. We moved to a table inside and by now all the other patrons had gone. It was only 7PM so we kept pretending Mike had planned this elaborate dinner all to surprise me. He ordered Duck and I had a delicious Fish Stew. We even had Cheesecake for dessert. After dinner we were lucky enough to get a tour of the whole building from Tobie, the owner. We got to see all the inner workings of the Mill and hear great stories about the history of the building. It was such an interesting experience and we were grateful for the time she took to show us around.

The Hudson River Valley played a pivotal role in determining the outcome of the Revolutionary War. The history of the area is about how Americans stymied British attempts in 1776- 1783 to control the river way and sever New England from the rest of the colonies. We did not get to see even a small portion of all the Hudson River Valley Revolutionary War Sites, but we did visit The New Windsor Cantonment and the National Purple Heart Hall of Honor. Both attractions are located just outside of Newburgh, NY.

Our primary purpose of the field trip was to visit the National Purple Heart Hall of Honor. My dad has three purple hearts from his time in the Army. My idea was to visit the museum and make a donation in his name as a Father’s Day gift. June 16^th was on the way and that was the best idea I had for a Dad’s Day present. The Hall of Honor is a nice, small museum. We learned there is no formal database with information on all Purple Heart recipients. When I sent my dad his card, I sent him the registration information in case he wanted to complete and return it.

The unexpected history lesson came when we visited the New Windsor Cantonment next door. George Washington’s army made its final encampment here over the winter of 1782. They called the community building here the Temple of Virtue. This is where Washington made an emotional speech convincing army officers not to rebel over pay. There are volunteers that dress in period attire available for questions and offering demonstrations of routine chores from the time period. On the day we visited they were reenacting how the encampment handled laundry (my favorite thing!). The irony of the situation was that as we conversed with these 1700’s –era figures, a C-130 was flying low above us doing touch-and-goes at a nearby reserve base. It was a bit challenging to try and imagine ourselves being back in 1782 with the monstrous aircraft buzzing us every 10 minutes. The volunteers offered to give us a black-smith demonstration, but we declined and got back on the road. The afternoon was so pleasant, we wanted to get back and build a campfire.

New Paltz is a charming village in the Hudson Valley and it was the location of our last excursion from Yogi Bear’s Campground. The town was established in the late 1600’s and is thriving today with shops, restaurants and bars. We drove over one afternoon as we were doing some recon on the best route to take out of the area when we left in the bus. On that first trip, we parked the car and walked around with the dogs. We didn’t stop into any specific place, just explored the main street and some side streets on foot. The second time we went back was a bit of a fluke.

There is a place in the mountain above New Paltz called Mohonk Mountain House. The name sounds unassuming, but the place is not. The resort was selected for the 2011 Conde Nast Traveler Gold List that presents “the world’s best places to stay”, and voted one of the Top 20 Resorts in the U.S. by Conde Nast Traveler’s Readers’ Choice Awards. I looked it up online – www.mohonk.com – and it did indeed look like the Victorian Castle Resort that our dinner host, Tobie, had described. My idea was to go drive over to look around the place and have a drink in the bar before driving back home.

The drive up the mountain was gorgeous, so the outing was lots of fun. When we got to the entrance there was a guard gate. When it was our turn, I told girl we were just going to visit their bar and have a drink. “Sorry mam, the bar is for guests only”. Hmmm, we weren’t planning on eating dinner out… but I was looking for options to get past the gate. I asked if outside patrons were allowed to visit their restaurant. She replied that reservations are usually required, but she would call the dining room and ask if they had extra room. She did and they did, but there was only one other problem. Long pants only. Oh well, we weren’t really prepared to spend another $200 on dinner so soon after the Grist Mill anyway! We drove back down the mountain that evening and stopped into New Paltz again to check out a couple of their local taverns. We did end up eating dinner out at the Gilded Otter, but I’m sure the bill was much more appropriate for our budget than getting past the guard gate would have been. We won’t be traveling to any resorts like this in the next few years, but once we have a regular house again Mohonk Mountain Lodge is on my list of places to visit!

This week in New York was great for us. We had made it through to the Northeast to explore during the warm months, and this river valley was the perfect welcoming spot with all the quaint farms and well-stocked farmer’s markets. Everything was so charming and quaint. Even though it was yucky raining weather as we pulled out of the campground, I was eager to get back on the road and learn more about the charm of New England. We would be back to the Empire State, but for now we planned to finish the rest of June in Vermont.

The Hudson River Bridge crossing over to Poughkeepsie.

Inside the National Purple Heart Hall of Honor.

Inside the Tuthill House at the Mill Restaurant & Tavern.

If you can see the jumper in this photo, you will understand how close we were to the Parachute Club. The plane is taking off from the same field the jumper is coming down into. This was the show we got to see for a week!

Happy that Mike reserved entire restaurant for us to enjoy our quiet dinner. Or at least that is what we went with.

This was our view every time we left the Lazy River Campground – taken from the exit gate. The Wallkill River ran along side the park.

The Vista from the Vanderbilt Estate in Hyde Park – looking West back across the Hudson River.

We started with drinks and appetizers outside on the Porch at Tuthill House. Of course the view was spectacular, but the sound of the roaring water just below us was even more magnificent.

The view from our bedroom window.

The brown blobs in the grass are woodchucks (the bigger brown circles are fire rings). Mike fished by their hole home, so they lent him moral support while he tried to snag the catfish.

The field on the left side of the road is where the sky diver(s) landed when they missed their target field across the river.

Road Trip to the Northeast

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When we pulled out of Bluewater Key Resort it was miserable weather. The clouds were dark and heavy, raining a constant drizzle. All we could see in the distance were more grey skies. One thing I was grateful for was that our windshield wipers worked. When Mike flew to Florida to pick up the Monaco and drive it back to Lake Conroe, he immediately discovered the windshield wipers did not work. Every time it rained he had to pull over and wait it out. This time at least we could keep moving forward in the wet stuff.

We had no reservations anywhere and no specific timeline, we just knew we were going to drive as far north as we could get in about four days. We wanted to get to the Northeastern United States while the weather was warm. We weren’t going to get to everything up in that area, but we figured we could do about 8 states in 5 months. We would want to be heading back south again by October. The only real plan we had was to drive about 200 miles (plus or minus), then take a break, then drive another 200 miles and find a rest stop to spend the overnight. We estimated we could get to somewhere in New York after about 4 days of this schedule without torturing ourselves too much.

On the first leg we made it through Miami, whew. I think I have failed to mention up to this point that I am a very nervous co-pilot. I’m a good navigator and I’m helpful with directions and stuff, but this bus is very gigantic and I’ve never really looked at driving from a Trucker’s perspective before. Mike doesn’t even hit the breaks to slow down; he just pushes some button on the left side by his arm rest. Please don’t misunderstand. Mike is a GREAT bus driver and he has nerves of steel, so nothing fazes him. It is not him that makes me scared; it is just being in this huge vessel looking down on all these tiny cars weaving in and out in front of us. When I’m really nervous I try to meditate about how the FAA trains Air Traffic Controllers with the same software that Race Car Drivers use to practice and enhance their skills. We are always fine with Mike in the Captain’s chair; it is just the other stupid fools on the road that we cannot control. I try extremely hard to avoid back seat driving (since I have no idea how or any inclination to drive this thing), but that doesn’t mean I don’t utter things like “slower”, “break lights ahead”, “what’s the speed limit”. I try to stay occupied with the iPad, looking at directions, or Facebook, but I get motion sickness so I can’t do that for very long spurts at a time.

We found a rest stop after about 3 hours just as the rain let up a bit. We parked on the edge so we could put out the two passenger side slides. I walked the dogs around, we ate lunch, watched television, took a nap. This was the stop where we noticed the windshield wiper in front of the passenger’s side was dangling down in front of the bus. Hmmm. Not good. At least it was not on the driver’s side, so we could keep moving in the rain. After we picked a truck stop where we could get fuel, and located a rest stop where we might spend the night, we got back on the road. That evening we made it to a rest area near San Augustine and slept in the parking lanes with all the other 18-wheelers. I had to crawl over Mike to get in and out of the bed because there was no room to expand any of the walls on this overnight. Our windshield was filthy with all the rain muck, so Mike was out on his ladder cleaning the windshield the next morning before we took off again. Turns out the wiper issue was just a loose bolt, so with clean windows and properly working rain equipment we finally left Florida.

The second day we drove through Georgia and South Carolina, sleeping just near the southern border of North Carolina. Most of the drive was through the Low Country and the view was so scenic. The Rest Area in North Carolina was actually a Welcome Center because of its proximity to the state line. This means it was much larger than a regular rest stop. It had a pond and small walking trail. It also meant that we could park in a remote corner and expand all four of our slides.

I woke up at 4 AM on the third leg of our trip because Mike was awake in the living room with all the lights on. I thought he might want to get an extra early start, so I got up to let him know I was willing to begin the day if he was anxious to get moving. He was reading a section of the owner’s manual – which I thought was curious – and told me to go back to bed, to which I happily complied. It wasn’t until we woke up again at a normal time, walked the dogs, and had coffee that Mike informed me we had an oil leak. He had noticed oil splatters on the back of the coach and on the front of the Honda. He was waiting until 8AM to find a Truck Stop along our morning route. The plan was to drive it to a shop, have them check out the leak, and then keep moving north.

The first couple of Truck Stops that we called could not accommodate us for various reasons. We were starting to get a bit nervous. Then we had a break through! We remembered that one of the top three things on our original list of criteria was a Cummins Engine, 500HP or more. We stopped googling Truck Stops and started googling Cummins Engine Repair. Presto! There was a Cummins Atlantic on I-95 about an hour north of us. We called and explained the problem, they asked us how quick we could get there, and we were on the road.

After we arrived to the shop they determined a seal needed to be replaced. We agreed to have the seals and filters replaced, along with an oil change. After our “order” was processed, we disconnected the car and headed into the nearest tiny town. We had some fried chicken and BBQ at a local Mom & Pop establishment, found a car wash and tried to get the grease off the front of the Honda, then found a park with a fence so the dogs could run around a bit. We had wasted as much time as we could stand so we drove back over to the Cummins shop to see if they might be working on the bus yet. Sure enough, it was in the bay.

We still had to wait, but at least we knew the mechanics were working on it. We didn’t really know what to do with ourselves, so we parked the car under a shady tree in the parking lot of the adjacent Pilot Truck Center and tried to veg- out while we waited. That was fine and comfortable until the grounds crew arrived to cut the grass. We drove back to the Cummins parking lot and tried to wait there, but the parking lot had no shade and it was hot. I went inside the Cummins place to find a Ladies Room and discovered they had 2 WAITING LOUNGES! One for truckers and one for RV’rs. We had no idea. I promptly asked if our dogs would be allowed in the lounge and the nice lady said no problem. What? We have been out sitting in our car when we could have been inside with bathrooms, couches, television, WiFi and A/C! The Cummins people got the work done just before they closed at 5pm, so we were back on the road without too much drama or chaos. That night we made it to a rest area just past the Virginia state line before we stopped around dark.

Day four. One more day of this was doable, but we had to find somewhere to park that night where we could stay a week or longer. It was time to chill for a bit. We did some research that morning with coffee and found a place in Gardiner, New York in the Hudson River Valley. They had open spots at Yogi Bear’s Lazy River RV Park so we booked a reservation and planned our route for the rest of the day. As we prepared to leave, I was washing my face and I kept thinking I sure was splashing a lot more water than usual on the floor. Upon closer inspection I figured out that all the water I was running down my sink was coming out the bottom of my cabinet. Oh joy… I couldn’t wait to tell Mike the news! We got the water sopped up with towels, he found the spot of the leak, and we decided to deal with it later. I would just use his sink until mine worked again. We pulled out and drove past the D.C. area, then north through Maryland and into Pennsylvania. We didn’t really have a long break this day; we just stopped to refuel and kept going.

You might be thinking of the geography of our route as I explain our travels. Yes, we were headed north, UP into the Mountains. If you remember earlier when I explained I was a nervous rider… up until this point of our trip we had only been in some rolling hills in Alabama. These were mountains with emergency runaway lanes for out of control truckers going too fast down a steep slope. Now I was starting to utter words like “downshift”, “don’t use the runaway lane”. Mike knows I’m scared, so he is pretty tolerant of me – but I’m sure it is very annoying to him. The good thing was that we tackled the mountain drive during the daylight and arrived to Yogi Bear’s before dusk. Our traditional first-night-in-camp martinis were particularly delicious on this evening.

This was the view out of our window for many of the stops over our 4-day trip.

We tried to decompress in between drives by watching tennis or golf on the television.

I think this was the view from my window when we slept at a rest stop in North Carolina.

Nap time in the RV Lounge at Cummins.

Thank goodness the windshield wiper on the driver’s side still worked!

Florida Part III: The Keys

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Our drive between the Tampa Bay area and Key West was the longest road trip we had taken since we started our adventure. Our plans were directly on schedule, which meant we had reservations to check out of our Ozona cottage on the 21st and reservations to check into Bluewater Key RV Resort on the 22nd. The drive was going to be over 7 hours so we decided to break the trek into halves and stay overnight in a Casino parking lot at the midway point in the Everglades. Our water pump and tank sensors were all freshly repaired, or replaced, and we were finally able to “camp” somewhere self sufficiently without hooking up to any exterior utilities.

As it turns out, the repair costs to the Monaco were drastically less than we had guesstimated. The way we saw it, we had a little extra money left in our savings account after we paid Creative Coach because we were expecting to part with so much more in the repair payments. Mike’s solution was to take our good fortune and try to double it. He went to the money machine and pulled out $1,500 for us to gamble with while we spent the night in the casino parking lot. He was going to try and make something at the craps table with $1,000 to start with, and he was going to give me $500 to take to the black jack table. It was a perfect plan: drive four hours on a scenic trip through The Everglades, stay the night for free, have a nice dinner and make a fortune at the tables.

The drive was fine, the parking lot was free and had lots of security, and we didn’t lose any money. We stayed at the Miccosukee Tribe of Indians of Florida Resort & Casino at the cross roads of Florida Highways 41 and 997. We found a wide open space in the back parking lot so we could walk the dogs and open the slides. When I went to “register” us with security inside the casino I learned there were no craps or black-jack tables, only a poker room and slot machines. Oh well, now we had “extra” money to play with in Key West! We had dinner that night in one of the nicer restaurants on the property… it was “open air” situated up on a platform looking down at one of the casino slot floors with slot machines encircling the boundaries of the restaurant. It was in a smoking section. Since smoke rises, we got to breathe anyone’s exhaust that was under or near us. Mike’s frog legs were soggy, my pasta was gummy. They did have a nice piano player contributing to the “lounge” ambiance. We really couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

We went back to our bus after dinner and continued putting all of our belongings back into their proper places. We had loaded all of our stuff from the cottage to the bus, but we had yet to put everything away. The place was a wreck. After a good night’s rest, we got up in the morning and continued chores before hitting the road. Mike spent at least 2 hours cleaning the windshield after our rainy drive through the everglades. It was filthy with mud and bug splats.

The drive down the Keys was not what I expected. Highway 1 is basically a 100- mile two-lane highway with the average posted speed of 45 miles per hour. It seemed like we were so close to our destination for so long, but it just took us forever to get there. Of course between all the roadside restaurants, resorts, and ocean vistas there is plenty to look at as you crawl down the road. Bluewater Key Luxury RV Resort is at Mile Marker 14 so we enjoyed a great view with plenty of sites to see all on the way down.

We ended up on Sugarloaf Key just a few keys down from the Mecca of Key West. I had never been there before, so I was very excited to explore the area. I had always wanted to take a trip to Key West, and now I know the future holds many other trips back to the quirky tropical wonderland. The RV Resort itself was a private establishment and each RV pad was privately owned. This meant that each site had its own landscaping, furniture, etc. The spot we were given was #11. One side of the resort faced open waters and our side of the park opened up to a canal. There was a one-street neighborhood on the opposite side of the tiny key so our neighbors across the canal were local residents. We had a tiki hut with lights and fans, a deck facing the water, a big wicker table and matching bar set, brick pavers, and dense landscaping that blocked our view from each of the neighbors. I could see why this place took reservation APPLICATIONS. Just because you want a reservation here doesn’t mean you are going to get one. I was very thankful that Mike had made this reservation for us even before we owned the Monaco. It had coincidentally turned out to be Memorial Day weekend, so the place was full during our stay.

Mike hooked up my hammock to support posts in the Tiki structure. We moved a television out to the bar and hooked it up to the free cable. We plugged in the iPad and used the resort’s free Wi-Fi to stream island music from Pandora. Piper stood guard protecting us from the multitude of iguanas that roamed the area. I took frequent naps in my hammock. Mike fished off the back deck for mangrove snapper. We walked the dogs around the resort and along a biking path just outside our gate. We did swim in the resort’s pool one time. Our week in Key West flew by as we did a lot of nothing for many days in a row.

Don’t worry, we did actually leave the resort and see other parts of the area. On our second day we didn’t know what to expect from Key West. At the time, we had no idea how incredibly dog friendly and completely car unfriendly the last key really is. We left the dogs at home and went into the center of Key West with no parking plan – both of which we did not repeat again during our visit. Our plan was to go have breakfast at Blue Heaven, a restaurant that was recommended to us by our friends Amy and Blaine. Then we could cruise around and see the layout of the town. We would get a general feeling for where everything was on the way back to the bus. This way we could figure out what all kinds of things we wanted to do while we were in town. We had a great tour of the historic town center during the hunt for a place to dump our car, and finally found a parking spot for $15 around the corner from the restaurant. We had a scrumptious breakfast in an enclosed open-air patio under an enormous tree while we listened to live music and watched roosters and hens peck for leftover scraps by our feet. I ordered the Lobster Benedict and Mike had the ‘everything’ breakfast platter with the most delicious banana pancakes I’ve ever tasted. We decided it had probably been a good thing we visited this location without the dogs. Piper and the yard birds would not have made for a pleasant dining experience.

That evening we came back into town for the Sun Celebration at Mallory Square (complete with dogs and a parking plan). We roamed through the crowds and looked at the art booths that were set up around the perimeter. We watched characters in costumes meandering, sword eaters swallowing blades, musicians strumming instruments, fortune tellers giving guidance, and a black cat repeatedly jump through a flaming ring of fire. We found a spot on the water in front of The Westin and waited for the sun to set while we had some drinks and dinner. Our waitress brought the dogs bacon to eat as a treat. I told her unfortunately they couldn’t eat the bacon, but they could eat a carrot if she wanted to give them something. She was back in five minutes with a bowl of chopped carrots, so the dogs were happy too. We spent the rest of that evening watching the chartered and private boats return to their marinas at dusk, then we headed back home.

Another day we went back into town with the dogs and parked for FREE at a hidden parking lot behind the Truman Annex near Ft. Zachary Taylor. From there we walked through the fabulous neighborhoods crowded with vintage architecture, a history that incorporates presidents and hoodlums, lush gardens, wacky charisma and other tourists. We found our way to the Southernmost Point – where I heard a tour bus driver say we were closer to Cuba than we were to the nearest Wal-Mart. There was a long line of people waiting to take their picture by the official marker, so we just skipped the line and took pictures of other people we didn’t know standing by the official marker. After we checked the marker off our list of things to see, we went to eat beachside at the Southernmost Café just down the street. Although dogs were not allowed on the beach or in the restaurant, they had a small section of tables with umbrellas near the entrance where we could sit with the dogs and order TO GO plates off of the menu. It was basically self-service, but that was fine with us. Mike had tried the Mojitos at The Westin, so I tried them at this place. I don’t like rum, but I had two! After lunch we strolled down Duval Street on the way back to the car. If we had wanted to buy anything at all, we could have. We passed shops and stores that sold everything from t-shirts, to cigars, to fine art and jewelry. Every imaginable thing in between was displayed in the retail windows of the shops that lined the narrow streets . The only thing I think they had more of in Key West than shops was bars. I wanted to go into each one that we passed, but we had 14 miles to drive home so we just gawked and kept walking.

As we had discussed our plans to visit the Keys with others in the previous months, several of our friends had recommended we go to Little Palm Island while we were in the area. Little Palm Island is a private resort, but they do allow “guests” to visit their dining room with advanced reservations. High End. Lifestyles of the Rich and not necessarily Famous. We decided to make a date and scheduled reservations for Sunday Brunch with a 10:30 departure time on their ferry. Little Palm is a private island on the Atlantic side just off of Torch Key. They have two sleek teak motorboats that take their guests from the dock near the Overseas Highway Mile Marker 28 to the resort. It was about a 20-minute boat ride. As our boat, “The Truman”, approached the island we circled around it to where the dock was located on the opposite side. There were about 20 or so private cabanas with indoor/outdoor designs and thatch roofs. Each one was set off from the next one with world class landscaping and natural foliage in-between. They each had their own fire ring and their own private mini-dock outfitted with giant teak couches and loungers under massive umbrellas. Each cabana also had a little patio area that had outdoor linen curtains surrounding the boundaries, so the guests could have extra privacy if necessary. Before we docked the boat and made our way to the restaurant area, I told Mike we were coming back here to stay for our 30th anniversary. It would take us that long to save enough money to afford to spend more than a couple of hours in this paradise.

For brunch our white linen- covered table was located in the sand. The mimosas and bloody Mary’s were free-flowing. Most of the food offerings were available on a buffet and we could also order little mini- plates off the menu. The buffet had pastries, fruit, cheese, crackers, breads, shrimp, oysters, salmon, carved pork roast, and dozens of fresh salads. From the menu I ordered Salmon Benedict and the Chilled Avocado Soup. Mike ordered a grilled fish and Kobe beef. At the end of our meal they brought out a little sampler dessert platter with about 6 different choices of goodies to taste. We were so lucky that our table sat in the shadows of a clump of palm trees, so the weather was pleasant and the view was gorgeous during our entire meal. It was a great date. I would recommend the splurge to anyone who enjoys delicious food and romantic surroundings.

We went on a morning snorkeling trip on Memorial Day. Our Catamaran, The Marquesa, left the harbor at 9am. There were 20 passengers and 3 crew members, our captain Eric assisted by Jill and Carol. We heard the afternoon cruise was booked for 80 people, so once again we were lucky with how things played out. The ride out to the reef was about an hour. We snorkeled for about an hour and then enjoyed free beer and wine on the boat ride back into port. The wind was pretty strong and the water was fairly choppy, which made seeing fish and plants in the protected barrier reef a little tricky… but it was a great excursion. After we got back on land we wanted to eat some lunch and realized a Carnival Cruise Ship was docked down the street. Rather than go toward the “extra” crowds of tourists, we drove out of the city center and went to a local dive called Hogfish on Stock Island. It was about half- way between where our car was parked in the parking lot and where our bus was located back at Bluewater Key.

It started raining that evening after we got back home and didn’t really stop until we left on Wednesday morning. We spent our last day in the Keys getting ready for a mammoth road trip to the northeast. I went to the grocery store and got the kitchen all stocked up. Our vacation was over and the chores needed attention, but it was okay because we were all chilled out from our time in the tropics. We were so busy relaxing during our stay that we didn’t get to see and do everything on our list. They say once your feet touch the Key West Sand, you will return again and again. I think I believe the lore. I certainly plan to be back.

Leaving the harbor to go snorkeling.

This is the dog walking area at our RV Resort.

The marina where Hogfish Bar is located. We came to eat with this view after our snorkel trip.

This was our back yard for the week. Piper was always on guard for iguana protection. One snake did crawl up on our deck also, but the dogs and I scared it back underneath.