Yes, six! We're back from our sixth cross-country trip in the trusty "old" Sportsmobile. Well I say old but I guess it would be more like middle aged. It's about seven years old now and has 75,000+ miles on the odometer. Everyone knows that vehicle years are sort of like dog years which would make the van 49. Anyway, it behaved well for a middle-aged vehicle and we had a great time.
Our trip can be divided into three distinct phases: getting there, being there and getting back. "There" being Williamsburg, Virginia where we recently purchased a 67-year old house. At least some parts of it are 67 years old. Everyone knows that house years are NOT like dog years. They're not even like people years because houses tend to outlive people unless the burn down or are razed to make way for a Wal-Mart or something like that.
This trip was kind of unique for us in that we didn't spend a whole lot of time exploring and sightseeing, especially on the way there. We only stayed in a motel one night the whole time we were on the road. That was on the way back, in Little Rock, Arkansas. On the way there we did spend two nights at Lorri's parents place, which allowed us to escape the van for a while.
Our trip took us through 14 States and 6,640 miles on the odometer which is really only 6447 miles, plus or minus, because our odometer says we go 103 miles for every 100 miles we actually go. We know this because we've measured our odometer against Interstate Highway mile markers in such interesting places as West Texas on I-10, where you can check your odometer for hundreds of miles, if you really want to, without missing any scenery.
We listened to "1776" by David McCullough while heading east, an appropriate selection since we had planned to be in Yorktown for the 225th anniversary of the last major encounter in the Revolutionary War. We listened to over half of "Thirteen Moons" by Charles (Cold Mountain) Frazier on the way back which was also appropriate since we passed through western Virginia and North Carolina, the Blue Ridge, which is the setting for the first half of the book.
Since we were sort of in a hurry to get to Virginia, most of our photos from the trip out are photos of our campsites. Not very exciting, I know, but they're all I've got.
This is Kaibab Lake State Park, near Williams, AZ, just west of Flagstaff. The bark beetle has killed a lot of trees there too.
Next stop was the Tucumcari, NM, KOA. This was a good KOA, as far as KOA's go. Sometimes they try to pack big rigs in, back to back and belly to belly, like a big parking lot, but this one was spread out a little and the bathrooms were nice and clean, which always helps Lorri's campground approval rating.
The next day, we left I-40 at Oklahoma City onto I-44, for the loop up to St' Louis. We tried to find the remnants of Historic Route 66 along the way without much luck. We spent the night near Chandler in an RV Park we stumbled upon by accident.
As fate would have it, on September 29, 2006, we found a tasting room and shop for Summerside Vineyards, so we stopped, tasted and shopped. Their wines, mostly, were pretty good.
After doing some wine tasting, we took a circuitous route around the Grand Lake of the Cherokees in northeastern Oklahoma. We ended up at a very nice State Park called "Twin Bridges". Yes, there were two bridges.
From there it was just another few hundred miles to St. Louis and Lorri's parents house. We spent a relaxing couple days visiting and talking baseball. Of course, that was before the Cardinals handily drummed my Padres out of the playoffs, so it was easy to talk big then.
From St. Louis we powered across southern Illinois and Indiana, ending up at Carter Caves State "Resort" in Kentucky, which I guess is what you call a State Park if it has cave tours, mini-golf, a lodge, cabins, a lake and who knows what all? We didn't see much of it and the campground was rather cramped.
Then it was on to West Virginia where I snapped this excellent view of the State Capitol in Charleston as we flew by on I-64
We stopped for lunch at some falls on the New River. Further upstream is a world-famous suspension bridge know for its once-a-year festival when parachutists and hang gliders are allowed to jump off its 850-foot high span across the gorge. Supposedly a hundred thousand people gather for the spectacle. (I doubt it because I don't think that many people live in West Virginia.) I read that someone was killed there this year when his chute didn't open.
Lewisburg, WV, is a cute little artsy-crafty-foody kind of little town, sort of surprising for the area.
The next big surprise was the Greenbrier Resort, a traditional high-end, huge, expensive, extensive, beautifully maintained, exclusive place. The sort of place where gentlemen are requested to wear jackets and ties at dinner and in the main "salons" after five. Presidents, kings, movie stars and all sorts of famous people have stayed there, right in good old White Sulpher Springs, West Virginia. Our accommodations for the evening were a little more simple, since I forgot to pack my jacket and tie. We stayed in the Greenbrier National Forest a few miles away and a world apart!
The next day, October 4th, we arrived in Williamsburg, home of Colonial Williamsburg's A-Number One Bookseller, my brother, Robert B Hill.