Alto – peregrinations

Pettigrew State Park, North Carolina

January 3, 2020, Friday: It was a warm night so we slept with the ceiling fan/vent exhausting and awoke to 65 degrees outside and in the low 60s inside.

One final note about Carolina Beach SP that I forgot to mention in the prior post: They close and lock the gate at 6PM. When Jack was checking in, this was mentioned, and when he asked what we might do if we arrive back and find the gate locked, some general arm-waving and vague references to a “driveway” were made, but we never followed up.

When we returned from Michael’s Seafood on our last night at Carolina Beach, it was 6:45. So we wandered around some of the turn-offs from the main road in front of the gate, and at one point ended up turning around in some poor soul’s driveway.

For the record, if you go past the park entry off Dow Rd. The first right past the Park Road is, indeed, a gravel driveway, but it goes past a house and becomes the cut-through to get behind the gate and into (as well as out of) the park after hours. Sheesh!

Anyway, we left Carolina Beach SP, and en route, we encountered 75 degrees at 10AM, and clear driving the whole way to Pettigrew State Park. The temps were cooling by the time we arrived around 3PM.

Site 13 is in the sun (for solar gain as there is no electric or water at the sites) and nearest to the bathroom (the loop bathhouse remains closed in the winter, but there’s a heated toilet at the ranger’s office). By the way, the folks at the office are incredibly nice). You can get ice when the office is open, and firewood is on the honor system right at the camping loop.

From the rear

From the road

Hal and Dawn (fellow Alto owners) were already there, as were the mosquitoes, which were pretty bad with the wet, warm weather. We put up the screen house and pulled out the Deep Woods Off to save my ankles, still bumpy from bites sustained at Hunting Island. David, Holli, and their dog Digby joined us shortly after we arrived (another Alto-owner family).

First thing, I took the dogs for a walk, and we ended up at the boat launch, where the sun was setting.

In nearby (relatively speaking) Edenton, NC, were additional Alto owners, Karen and Steve, who wanted to come for the birds but didn’t want to de-winterize their camper. Instead, they stayed at a BnB in Edenton, about 35-40 minutes’ drive away. We’d made a reservation in Edenton for us all to gather for dinner at the Edenton Bay Oyster Bar—one of the past registration sites of the Bike NC Spring Ride.

Needing fuel to even make it to Edenton, we googled nearby stations and found the one highlighted didn’t exist. So we had to go farther away from Edenton en route to dinner to get fuel, resulting in our late arrival to the party. Moral: Don’t trust solely on Google in this part of the state.

Very nice dinner—got some excellent seared scallops on risotto, and returned to the camper for a much-needed sleep.

January 4, Saturday: Overnight the rain began and it really pelted down. We were not looking forward to trying to spot migrating birds in the wet, but we all dressed for it and headed out in separate cars, once Karen and Steve got to Pettigrew and joined us around 9:30AM. Despite the rain, the temperature was quite warm. Got away, headed to Mattamuskeet around 10 after deciding that we’d try to find a cafe for lunch rather than packing our lunches along.

During the long drive to the Visitor Center (it’s actually called the “Refuge Headquarters”) on Lake Mattamuskeet, we saw a bunch of American kestrels and kingfishers, and I spotted one perched bald eagle—very wet and unhappy-looking—along the way. We stopped at the informational kiosk at the top of the VC drive to see loads of water birds (mostly ducks) in the wetlands (mergansers, “redheads,” mallards, pintails, herons, egrets, etc.). But in the area pretty far from the road (needed binoculars to see them) were a gang or three of tundra swans—but no snow geese that we could see. And where we’d seen several bald eagles in the wetland on prior trips, we didn’t see any this time.

Strangely, the VC was closed so we not only were unable to speak to any rangers or biologists to get tips on where to find the big flocks of birds, but also couldn’t get the general introduction to what we might see and experience while there—this VC has a great display and lots of information about not only birds but also mammals, fish, trees, etc. Too bad those who hadn’t been there before couldn’t experience that.

So we drove around the opposite (far) side of the primary wetland (slightly closer to the tundra swans) and then headed to lunch. Found Martelle’s Feedhouse in Englehard and had a quite nice and filling (and warm/dry) lunch. Many of the local hunters and residents were there, so we knew it was going to be good. They served all kinds of seafood, Eastern NC BBQ, sandwiches and burgers galore, plates and smalls, and everything you might imagine at a “feedhouse.” I got a pork tenderloin salad that was superb.

We were headed to Pungo Lake, where we’d seen the most of the arctic birds in the past when we saw a white patch on the muddy landscape alongside the road. There seemed to be an access road to get closer, so we took it and got our first close-up look (and listen) of tundra swans.

Unfortunately, we spooked them as we peeked around the tree line, but it was quite breathtaking to see these enormous birds fly and sound the alarm.

It was still rainy: When the actual rain abated, a fine mist fell steadily. So we retreated back to the cars after watching the enormous birds a while and resumed our trek to Pungo.

In another 40 minutes of driving along state rt. 45, we got to the Pungo Lake preserve, driving in at the south entrance, where the main road takes a sharp turn and the “straight” roadway turns into Pat Road. The pavement turned to mud and the pools and puddles on the road were quite deep and numerous. But at least the rain had stopped.

We saw a huge flock of tundras in a cornfield at the far side of a thin, raised bank of trees and bushes. We pulled the cars onto the verge and all piled out to cross the stubble field and use the line of vegetation as a “blind” to get closer to the swans. We saw several piles of bear poop in the stubble field, just as is the case back home.

As we approached the line of trees, however, we found that there was a deep, moderately wide canal between us and our “blind.” But a couple of us jumped the ditch and were able to take some photos of the swan gang. We stood there in the relative dry watching the birds landing, taking off, and just hanging out.

We thought that, logically speaking, Pat Road should somehow link to Phelps Lake from Pungo as the two are relatively near one another. But bouncing along the mud lane simply landed us in front of a “No Trespassing—Private Property” sign, so we turned around and bounced back to Route 45 North and drove around our elbows (it seemed) to get back to camp.

I took some shots of the sunset as the sky cleared and the rain clouds dispersed.

Everyone elected to eat dinner separately, and although Hal suggested a campfire, he reported that the mosquitoes were ravenous so we all nixed that idea. In our camper, at least, we turned in early.

January 5, Sunday: At 6AM it was 42 both in and outside the camper, so we cranked the furnace and crawled back under the Rumpl blanket. Didn’t get up until late, and Hal and Dawn headed back to NOVA around 9:30 because Hal had to be at work on Monday.

As they were pulling out, Karen and Steve arrived to see what the pulse of the group was. It wasn’t until about 11 that Jack and I decided to pass up the opportunity for more bird-finding in favor of taking more time to hike around with the dogs. Everyone else elected to drive around some more, although the two cars-full went on separate adventures. Karen later reported seeing a bald eagle. David and Holli headed back to Pungo and later reported good sightings of swans, but also snow geese (which I was sorry to miss).

At the end of the campground along the walk to the Plantation is an interesting hollowed-out tree that Jack can stand inside. He held the dogs with him and they were both intent on some sound or smell within (probably a squirrel). Jack himself was unmoved by squirrel scent.

We took the pups along the boardwalk from the Plantation to the ranger’s office, and then along the 2.8-mile trail to Moccasin Overlook. Along the grassy trail, however, we encountered a lot of pooled water, and some dogs we were worried had no invisible fence restraints, so we turned around early. In all, it ended up being about a 2 mile trek.

The wind came up and there was significant chop out on Phelps Lake. But it dried things out a bit as the temperatures began to drop.

Around 2 Alison and Andy showed up from Raleigh, just to see what all the bird-fuss was about, and after chatting a while, they headed off to Pungo also. I loaned them my binoculars and when we saw them again, they reported lots of arctic bird sightings and a very satisfactory trip.

I threw the ball for Mischief for a bit and Holli and David discussed sharing a bonfire and some adult beverages, and we set up for that and had a lovely evening with them and Alison and Andy. We set up behind the trailer on the slight rise where Jack had taken down the screen house, so we were high and dry.

At about 7 the party broke up and Jack and I ate chili and “take and bake” rolls for dinner.

January 6, Monday: Holli and David rolled out of camp around 8:30 and we decided to delay breakfast until we were on the road. Jack had a special mission: to find the butcher who had made the sausages we ate when Edenton was the host site of the Bike NC Spring Ride a few years ago. He had done his research and thought we might have it pegged with directions to get there and an opening time of 10AM.

Tragically, Grandma’s Sausages was out of business. An elderly gent taking the sun in a carport next door to the shop kept trying to sell Jack the business or the building, even though Jack kept insisting that all we wanted were some of Grandma’s sausages. He said his wife used to run the business but had to stop, and now they were trying to sell it.

Sausage-less, we headed along back roads to Ahoskie, NC, where we ate lunch at a Golden Skillet. It was quite the place for “regulars” to gather, and Jack really enjoyed his chicken livers.

We kept to the back roads to NC Rt. 4, which is the Kerr Lake/North Bend Federal Campground road, and we crossed the dam and entered one of our most happy places. While our favorite peninsula was not open in the dead of winter, the loop available to us had a warm shower house sporting private toilet/shower rooms. Site #78 was relatively level so we could leave the truck hitched as we anticipated leaving for home the following morning.

Set up was minimal, so we grilled some bratwursts and re-heated leftover roasted veggies and potatoes for dinner. Then we walked down to the lakeside and watched the sun set as the evening star appeared.

Evening star

Orange fingers

The forecast for back home was for up to an inch or two of snow/sleet/icy mix early Tuesday, so we kept up with John via text and delayed deciding whether to head home the next day (as scheduled) or not.

January 7, Tuesday: The rains came in the night and the deluge continued most of Tuesday. We had only paid for one day as they would not refund if we decided to leave after spending just one night. But the gate attendant said as long as we paid by about 3PM, it was okay to delay our decision. We saw a total of 2 other campers, so there wasn’t any chance someone would come in and kick us out of our site.

At about noon, John texted that they’d gotten a slushy mix that was making driving on the mountain less than ideal. He said if we were to encounter trouble, it would be getting in our driveway.

While it was still pouring down with rain at North Bend, we decided to stay another night, and I walked with the dogs in the deluge to the front gate to give them another $10. The furnace was on when we got back, so my jeans and the dogs were able to dry out in comfort.

We listened to our audiobook, took nice warm showers (knowing that the water at home was turned off) and simply chilled out for the day. The rain stopped around 3PM when the wind whipped up to blow away all the clouds. We fought the wind down to the beach where a previous camper had created some rock-balanced towers that were pretty neat in the back-lit dusk.

January 8, Wednesday: The temperatures dropped like a rock overnight and we quickly broke camp at 34 degrees under a clear, bright sky, as we were surrounded by frosted leaves carpeting the woods. Initiated the 3-ish hour drive home at about 9-9:30, and were able to begin the long process of re-heating our 48-degree home in the mountains by about 2PM on January 8, 2020.

Trip’s End

Sunday, Apr. 21

We finally got a break in the weather, but most of the Alto crowd had left. Jack and I headed to South Hill for foodstuffs enough to fix dinner for John (arriving without Mary, who has fallen under the weather, or possibly the pollen) and additional Floyd friends, Brad and Ellen.

Because we’re settled and they’re arriving in the afternoon and likely won’t be set up before dinner time, we texted with them to let everyone know we’d handle dinner for all of us. We found the fixins for the fennel chicken dish we like to cook in the Dutch oven, and we also got some pork loins to grill for Mary and Allen who were coming to the campsite on Monday.

I began cooking circa 5:30, completing it by around 6:30, and served directly from the Dutch oven, with Omnia heat-and-serve rolls and roasted potatoes. Afterwards, we cranked the Solo fire, and the Karl & Hari crowd came over from loop C to share.

It was another glorious sunset, with the sun peeking below the clouds and shining brightly on the end of our peninsula, making the trees look like they were about to combust.

No good sunset is complete without a good reflection photo off Roomba (it’s a thing with the Alto models that have lots of windows).

Here’s a gallery of photos I’m calling “Sunset After the Storms”

Monday, Apr. 22

First thing in the morning, I watched an adult bald eagle fly over. The day dawned cold (47 degrees) but I was outside watching for birds and enjoying the clear morning by about 7. I wasn’t the only early bird, as a couple of fishermen were plying the waters near our site also.

Before lunch, we took a bike ride with Brad and Ellen while John took a kayak paddle-about. We toured around the campground, and across the hydro dam, where we stopped both coming and going to watch bald eagles and osprey and enormous fish near the dam. I could have watched the birds all day.

Instead of going back to the campground, we turned right at Rt. 4 and headed to the tailwaters of the dam, where there were tons and tons of birds all doing wondrous things, just carrying on with their birdy lives. We got off our bikes again to watch eagles and osprey and herons and cormorants and so many more. Saw this heron trying to hide while roosting in a tree.

Returned to eat a late lunch and enjoyed the sun. Even though the breeze picked up as we ate, the sky was incredibly blue-blue, and the sun was toasty hot.

Allen and Mary came for dinner around 6, and we grilled a pork loin. John, Brad, and Ellen brought their own dinners and we all ate together. Everyone enjoyed another campfire, topped off with a celebratory dram to mark the end of our trip, as well as Brad’s (Apr. 24) and Jack’s (Apr. 26) birthdays.

Tuesday, Apr. 23

Naturally, on the day we must leave, the temp soared to 52 degrees and the wind stayed dead calm. Heard several lonely loon calls in the early AM.

We enjoyed a leisurely morning and said goodbye to Brad and Ellen around 8:30. Watched a contest between a lone loon with a fish, versus an entire gaggle of cormorants. The cormorants were doing a tag-team “harass the loon so it drops its fish” game, with much of the action happening under water. The loon would dip below, with 2 or 3 of the cormorants flying over to where it dove and diving after it. The loon would pop up again and other cormorants would fly over to it and dive after it when it dove for cover again.

Finally, the loon surfaced and up-ended the fish so it would go down its gullet, and suddenly, all the cormorants looked like they were bored, as if they’d had nothing to do with the loon at all. They all went different directions after the game was won by the loon.

Once the water warmed up a bit, John took a final kayak tour before he began to load up for departure. We ate an early lunch and began breaking camp in earnest around noon.

Just as we were nearing our own departure time, we saw a Canada goose family swimming by. The water was a bit choppy by then, but the little goslings were pretty easy to see. The hard part was getting the youngsters and both parents in my camera’s frame at the same time. But I finally managed.

It was an uneventful drive back home, and we parked Roomba in the driveway near his garage overnight. All was well with the house and critters and we were thankful for Surya, our house sitter. Naturally, the first thing Mischief wanted to do was play ball.

I grabbed some meat and went out to see how Beebs (redtailed hawk) was doing, and she seemed quite keen on the food, but not so sure about me.

Thus the 2019 Spring Trip comes to a close. It was wonderful and fun and so very exciting to share with so many of our friends and to meet new friends along the way.

More adventures to come—watch this space for the next peregrinations we undertake with our Alto camper.

La Jolie Rochelle

Arrived Tuesday, July 10 after about a 3-hour drive to Saint-Raphël de Bellechasse, easterly from Quebec City. There (with a bit of hunting) we found Camping La Jolie Rochelle, a simply wonderful private campground along a beautiful babbling river.

It was hot by the time we were able to get in and, with tremendous help from our host—he actually backed Roomba into the tight spot opposite a serious stone wall—we set up our Alto in site #13 of a long string of Altos of all stripes, model numbers, colors, and ages. We joined a mini-rally. I was seriously relieved that I did not have to back Roomba into that spot.

Our grassy site was simply excellent, right on the river embankment, even sandwiched among everyone else, some of whom we knew from the rally we attended last year, some from shared Alto travels, and some only virtually, via Facebook. So it was really fun to put some faces with names we knew from the Altoistes FB group.

After setup, I shared a beer with Alto friend Jim, and realized I needed more beer. So Jack and I headed out to scope the area for a grocery. We found a lovely place called “Marche Traditions” and it was surprisingly good for a small grocer with only two checkout lanes. Full of good veggies, cheeses, beer, wine and everything in between. We got some go-alongs so we would not starve while camped in a parking lot for the Anniversary Celebration (which begins Thursday), and of course beer and wine to share and consume.

RoombaAmongFriends1211 — Roomba is at the right of the photo, with the awning that has the blue noodles on the guy lines.

The evening was a “gathered meal,” or one in which everyone brought to a central location (six picnic tables pushed together beside the pool area) whatever they were having for dinner anyway, and if one chose, bring something to share. If nothing in the cupboard to share, no worries. We all just ate together, and it was a very fun evening. We had gotten some desserts pre-made from the Traditions grocer, and they seemed to be a big hit with the group, although I did not have one.

PartialAltoArrayFrAbove1183 — This is a pic from our picnic site of a few of the Altos gathered here.

Before and after we ate, we were able to tour one of the Alto model 2114s, an extra-long Alto version — the first than many of us had seen, and I think about the 11th ever sold (they had just been released earlier this year).

Also, another Altoiste who goes full time using a Safari Condo conversion van to pull an older yellow Alto rolled in to join us.

A campfire was built and many gathered around it into the night, but I cocooned in Roomba to read and get my eyes closed by ten. Jack stayed with the group until about 11, but I did not wake up when he got in.

On July 11, I arose early (6:30) to find the temps had dropped to 40 degrees outside. With an extra shirt and long pants, I carried my tea outside and watched some gulls preen and dry themselves on some rocks in the river shallows.

I watched them for a long time before Jack got moving.The sun came over the trees and enlivened all sorts of life including a pair of kingfishers that flew above the water upstream and out of sight.

After breakfast, we sat and read and visited and chatted with fellow Altoistes until plans began to come together for a bike ride. Mark, Richard, Jack and I ended up headed to a paved bike path that my understanding is was once a rail bed, now converted to a bike trail. In full, it is 70 km, paved the entire way.

We started by driving what seemed a long way to begin at “P7” in Armagh. This had been the rail station, and off the parking lot was a cafe/snack stand. We started at 1:30 and rode outbound about 12 miles, and turned around to come back for a total ride of 24 miles in 1:38 of ride time (we paused a few times to drink water and decide whether or not to continue).

Along the route I saw a female pheasant, likely near her nest, just standing beside the trail. We also saw a goshawk zip past along the timber line near a gravel road, and saw many Monarch butterflies. We also heard but did not see a red-tailed hawk soaring above somewhere.

The trail was very nice, fairly straight and pretty flat, and it was a good ride. Richard is a serious cyclist so he kept our pace up, and I averaged 14.6 MPH over the duration.

Richard peeled off at Route Principale, on our return and somewhat close to the end of the ride, to take the main roads back to the campsite via a more direct route than we’d traveled to begin. Mark, Jack, and I stopped at the little cafe to grab an ice cream and some more water.

Upon our return another 2114 had arrived. The family we have often camped with in the past “traded up” their 1723 for the larger 2114 to better accommodate their family. They came straight from the pickup at the factory to our little gathering, and moved that beast into their site with the Caravan Mover, with a little help from their Altoiste friends, since they’d never used one before.

A few of us gathered to share beverages at our campsite, and we talked to Cynthia and Gail—Alto owners from Australia here for the Celebration—for a long time, sharing stories and once again, putting faces with names we’ve corresponded with for years over the internet.

A simple meal after our showers, and more Alto friends, Michele and Claudette, whom we met for the first time in April when we were camping at Virginia Beach, arrived and we shared a glass and slapped mosquitoes together as the sun set.

Everyone is looking forward to the celebration activities tomorrow, so we (mostly) hit the beds early, although a hearty few sat by the campfire again into the evening.

Mattamuskeet Journey v. 2018

Mattamuskeet Journey to see migrating waterfowl v. 2018

In January of 2016, we headed out with a newly-acquired Alto camper trailer (we named Roomba) to accompany tent-camping friends to Mattamuskeet Wildlife Refuge, camping at Pettigrew State Park in North Carolina, just on Lake Phelps.

That was so fun we decided on a reprise of that trip with the same friends, who are now also Alto trailer owners (they named theirs Moon Shadow). Last time, the temps were quite chill, and Mike and Barbara were tenting, although we shared our camper’s propane heat on a couple of occasions. But it was bitter cold.

This time was not as gray and frosty, but still cold overnights, and — well, I’ll let you read all about it in several posts.

Sunday, January 7

Left MoD when the temp was about 10 degrees. We began prep around 8:30 – 9:00 AM and had said goodbye to the doggies and were driving down Rt. 59 by about 11.

The weird thing about the whole stowing and prepping during this type of winter camping is that nothing that would be damaged by freezing could be out in Roomba nor in the back of the truck overnight. So we could not pre-pack as we so often do to assure an early departure. We removed our bathroom kits from our clothes bags, and put all the food (including the ‘fridge food, as nothing was going in from our home freezer) and other things that would be damaged by freezing into the truck very last before hitting the road. We put the refrigerator food into the ‘fridge without turning it on, figuring that it would not freeze solid in the 3 hours it was going to take us to get to North Bend (halfway point overnight spot). Measuring by past experience, the interior of the camper gets really cold on cold traveling days, so we couldn’t even put the dishwashing liquid into Roomba where it usually stays.

So the whole packing up thing was a challenge. We’d left our bed topper rolled and in Roomba for the entirety of this deep freeze (started about New Year’s Eve and overnight temps were in the low single digits — one AM we had zero degrees F — steadily for the whole of 2018). So the topper was stiff as a board and we probably could not have unrolled it even if we’d wanted to. Our hope was that it could ride in the back seat of the truck and thaw a bit, but it was too wide/stiff to fit into the cab, so we had to leave it in Roomba.

Once we arrived at North Bend Federal Campground (around 3P, after a stop for lunch and another for fuel) we plugged up (site 51–with between 2 and 3 bars of LTE and/or 3G cell service) and cranked the propane heater which solved the problem of the frozen bed topper nicely.

North Bend was 28 degrees, and there was still significant amounts of snow along the roads, especially at the edges. The guard said that there had been about 5 campsites used last night, but everyone had left.

They had sites 51 – 77 open, with one heated bathhouse that has maybe 8 private toilet/bath rooms. Site 51 is far from the lakefront, but pretty close to the bathhouse.

We did not unhitch, only leveled and set up, again pondering what would go where when we take off for Pettigrew State Park in NC tomorrow. We’re about 3 hours away from our next stop and, happily—although tonight will be lows in the teens again—the temps will be trending upwards for our whole stay at Pettigrew.

We have brought yeast rolls rising in Omnia, plus a lovely (but untried) chicken stew in the Billy Boil. After set up and a quick walk down to the lake (water levels are waaaaaay low—the “beach” I walked along was really the lake bottom) we are now happily ensconced in the warmth, and getting ready to continue our listen to another of the “Department Q” crime/mystery series (by Jussi Adler-Olsen) with Carl Merk: The Hanging Girl.

Powhatan State Park, Virginia

April 26 & 27, 2017

Our hope to be taking one good bike ride on Wednesday, April 26 before leaving Belle Isle was dashed by the weather and timing. Rained off-and-on overnight, and was still spitting when we got up. Tried to wait it out, but decided to simply go ahead and break camp to head toward Powhatan State Park without a ride.

Of course, it cleared up around 11, but we were already in full stow-and-pack mode, so we continued. Oddly, we left sun and headed toward clouds — not our usually MO, since our philosophy while traveling is “If it rains, leave town.” We were headed from sun into apparent rain on our transit day (also Jack’s birthday).

Completely uneventful ride to Powhatan State Park, except for the sighting of “creepy French fry guy” at an old diner or beer joint along the way, leering at traffic while standing next to an old phone booth.

We also noticed a sign for a local, Goochland County craft brewery, oddly called Lickinghole Creek (like a local physical creek near which it happens to sit). Liked their logo and figured we’d head out to check them out sometime during our stay.

Set-up was fine (site #5) as we were the only people in the park. Even the camp host was “off duty.” And those earlier clouds had also abandoned the joint by the time we arrived, around 3.

Powhatan State Park, sort of between Farmville and Richmond, is brand, spanking new. They have the most modern, private, and sensible bath house I’ve ever seen anywhere — every toilet and shower is its own lock-able room, all are unisex, and a couple for handicapped even combine toilet, sink and shower in one room. There is a laundry and two dish-washing stations. Oddly, though, the bath house for our 29 sites is the only one on the property, I think, although I’ve not been down to the group camping area. The dump station is pristine and has four offload ports.

There is tons of room for expansion, and I anticipate there will be a third canoe launch area into the James River, and a whole separate campground at some future point. Already there is a huge playground/picnic area, a nature programming center, an area and story board of a preserve for tree restoration (and the newly-planted trees, too, of course); and still lots and lots of wide open spaces.

But on Jack’s birthday, we simply settled in, built a fire, enjoyed a simple dinner and hit the hay early. Hoping we will have an opportunity to prepare a special birthday dinner before we head home on Monday.

April 27

RoombaMorningLight0404Web — Roomba’s awning faces east, so got a good AM shot on the 27th.

A bit of backstory is required here. Through Facebook and various other means, Jack and I keep in touch with some of our rugby colleagues from our William and Many days (and Jack’s contacts continue through his post-W&M career, too). Anyway, from one of my blog posts, a fellow women’s rugby player I’ve known since the late 1970s got in touch and asked about our Alto trailer. We had also hoped to see her in Williamsburg this Saturday, but she’s continuing her 40-year involvement with women’s rugby by coaching a W&M Sevens team that is headed to a national tourney this weekend, and will be away.

Since we changed our original plan to arrive in Powhatan SP earlier than expected, we invited Pep and her partner, Lisa, up to see Roomba. They accepted, and we set up a time for their arrival on Thursday. Pep said she had a final practice that afternoon with her team before their departure Friday, so they arrived early and we did some catching up, met their lovely pups, Bella and Rugby, and toured and talked about Safari Condo, Altos in general, and our model (R-1713) specifically.

RugbyInCar0406Web — Rugby wants to come into the back seat as we drive to lunch.

Then we went off to lunch in Goochland proper, at a placed small but crowded with locals called the Courthouse Market and Grill. Yummy sandwiches, burgers, onion rings, fries . . . very tasty and easy. More talk and catching up and rugby was enjoyed by all (with the possible exception of Lisa, who is not an “ex-rugger”).

It was a great time to be with them and I think we all had a great time, and they might sally forth from their summer home in Maine to Quebec and check out the Safari Condo operation, possibly sometime this summer.

After their all-too-early departure, and with many good wishes for a safe and successful tournament to Pep and many good wishes for further Alto exploration to Lisa (as I am, she is a layout person so we had some brief talk about magazines, etc., and as she cuts back on her teaching career, seeks freelance work in the print design field), we said our goodbyes.

Shortly thereafter I donned my cycling gear and left Jack lounging in the shade with his blues blasting from the Blue Bose Bluetooth and did a couple of circuits of the campground.

The two canoe launch areas are steeply downhill from the campground proper, offering more climbing practice than we’ve been able to experience to date on this trip, so I did those two downhill speeds and uphill cranks twice.

JamesRiverFrCanoeLaunchc0418Web — James River from Canoe Launch Area C

Cycling stats: Rode for about an hour and a half; 16.8 miles; average speed 11MPH; fastest speed 31MPH. Here’s the interesting stat: 500 feet of ascent (that’s a cumulative total). It is significant because all of our ascents to date along the flatlands of the Eastern Shore (with the exception of our ride through Assateague, which barely made it to the 100 feet mark) could be counted in the tens of feet, with a couple of our rides logging zero feet of ascent.

Thinking ahead to the Tour de Floyd ride, I was glad to get a bit of climbing practice into the training mix. And the canoe launch areas were quite nice, with skid launching areas, and one with a pavilion, and trail access to a canoe-in camping area (that I did not go down the trail to visit). Launch area A even had boat racks and trailer parking.

This is a very nice campground altogether, although all the signs prohibit swimming in the James River due to swift water flow, underwater obstructions, and steep drop-offs. Seeing the water speed past, I could imagine the dangers — even of being in a boat — of swimming.

CanoeLaunchC0419Web — Canoe launch with steps on either side of a boat skid to the James.

Thursday in Carmel

August 4 I had a “free day” during the NABA Convention, for which I’m here to take photos for the magazine I edit and lay out for the organization (National Association Breweriana Advertising). I got up early to take a bike ride along the famed Monon Trail, a completely paved Rails-to-Trails conversion that is quite popular around here, and which links up with many additional urban, suburban, and municipal trails to add onto a cyclist’s exploration. The Monon extends beyond the “multi-use only” part, at both ends, entering into urban riding through the cities at each end. I only rode the 8-ish miles of the non-urban riding part, and had a great time.

Short Stop

First night, about halfway to Bike North Caronlina in Edenton, NC. We stopped at Medoc Mountain State Park near Hollister, NC. The place is nearly empty — Our Alto, an A-Liner, a large cookie-cutter trailer (they all look the same), and a tent.

Medoc Mountain State Park, North Carolina, site #5

Nice little campground with about 36 spots, well-screened from one another. The bathhouse is clean and offers plenty of privacy and space. Found a tick crawling on me right after setup, however.

Temperatures are in the mid-seventies, and it’s quite hot in the sun. But we put the sun shield in the Big Front Window, and that truly has made all the difference. With the roof fan venting and a couple of the shade-side windows open a crack, it was extremely tolerable inside. We have electricity, but we’re not “setting up” like normal since we’re leaving for the final leg to Edenton tomorrow morning.

Chatted with one of the Rangers about the Alto, and gave her a tour. We were surprised to hear that she was somewhat familiar with the brand (from seeing one and then looking it up on the Internet) but she said she’d never been inside one.

The sun slowly sank to steal away the shade under our awning, so we moved around to the back and lounged about some in the gravity chairs, with a nice breeze blowing, until we munched the dinner we’d picked up along the way: chicken salad and crackers. We are unlikely to be able to check in for the ride until later in the day tomorrow. We’ll have a leisurely morning with tea/coffee and yogurt, hit the road and try to get a decent spot to set up without any electricity for the next 3 days of riding and eating seafood. At least the camper area where we’ve been assigned isn’t in the middle of a paved parking lot.

Ride
Eat
Sleep
Ride
Repeat

Hoping for excellent weather, but we’re looking forward to riding along the flatlands for a change no matter what the skies do.

October 12 – Ohiopyle & The GAP

Ohiopyle & the Great Allegheny Passage (GAP)

We have had a most excellent day today (Oct.12). And no car was involved from start to finish!

After our leisurely rise and breakfast (Jack and I finally cooked the bacon we’d brought along), Gloria and I conspired to create a picnic lunch that was carry-able in two small backpacks. At just before noon, we set off from the campsites to hike the connector trail from the campground to the Youghiogheny River Trail, one part of the larger, Great Allegheny Passage trail system that connects Pittsburg to Washington DC. Also called “The GAP,” it is a trail Jack and I have been on many times in the past, and part of it crosses the Eastern Divide, where the riverflow splits, with one side going to the Atlantic, and the other side going to the Mississippi/Gulf of Mexico.

The Youghiogheny River (The Yough, or “YACK”) is just beautiful here, and the small town of Ohiopyle is making great use of the natural beauty and outdoor sports opportunities for visitors.

Anyway, the connector trail is about 200 yards or so from our specific cul-de-sac, and it stretches about a quarter mile downhill along a loosely-graveled path to the Trail. From there, it’s no more than a mile to Ohiopyle proper, and we took lots of photos and were crowded by lots of bicyclers (who apparently don’t know about warning pedestrians of their approach from behind with a bell or a salutation . . . we were lucky no one hit us, honestly).

On the GAP, we crossed the Yack almost immediately, headed toward Ohiopyle/Washington DC.

Topo map of the river, Ohiopyle, the Ferncliff Peninsula, and the surrounding area. #6 is Ferncliff, and you can see the “thumb” the river has carved to make the peninsula. The dotted line (B at the left and D at the right) is the GAP.

The final span of the river (it takes a “U” turn right at Ohiopyle) is a pretty trestle bridge that brings you right into the Ohiopyle public park and busiest downtown area.

We sat down by the Yack (Youghiogheny is pronounced yak-ee-o-gain-ee, or yak-uh-gain-ee and Yack for short) to eat our lunch in the town park, near the waterfall. Then we wandered around a bit and found ourselves at the Visitor Center, which has lots of great interactive displays for adults and children alike. I got lots of ideas for Blue Ridge Heritage’s Cultural Education Center (an effort I’ve been involved with for nearly 15 years now).

After wandering through the town, which is not much more than a few restaurants, ice cream places, and bicycle/water sport outfitters, we headed back up the GAP to our connector trail and thence to the campground. While Ohiopyle (the town) was not nearly so frantically populated as when we drove in yesterday, there were nevertheless tons of folks about, taking in the sights, renting bikes for the trail, hiking, picnicking, or just taking photos.

Our campground, so filled with folks yesterday, is nearly empty today. We took advantage of the user deficit to take showers, and we got that long-delayed (it just got too late yesterday for us to start one) fire started at about 4PM.

This entire region is one we definitely need to spend a few weeks exploring. We picked up a booklet to help us plan, and I hope this will be something we do next year. Jack figures that, if we park Roomba more-or-less where it is now, we could take a ride to one end of the GAP carrying our gear for an overnight near Pittsburgh; next day ride back to Roomba for another sleep and a re-provisioning for the third day; a ride to the opposite end of the GAP, with tents, etc., and then return to Roomba again.

The hiking trails that are offshoots of the State Park here are intriguing to say the least. One we passed today that really piques our interest is called The Gorge Trail. Another is the Ferncliff Peninsula, formed in an elbow of the Yack below the Ohiopyle falls. I’d like to hike more of the trails next time we visit.

Here’s a little bit of history for those interested.

The combination of tumbling, falling water and plentiful forests led to the creation of Falls City in 1868. Water power ran the saw and grist mills as well as factories that tanned leather, made spokes for wagon wheels, barrels, chairs, and pulp for paper.

After Falls City became Ohiopyle in 1891, the Youghiogheny River drove turbines that supplied citizens with electricity.

The railroad first came to the town in 1871, connecting Falls City products to marketplaces elsewhere. But soon, passenger trails from Cumberland and Pittsburgh brought thousands of tourists to see the falls. The Ferncliff Hotel, Ohiopyle House, and Ranier Park offered forest trails, music & dancing, bowling, and even a carousel.

For some, the Ferncliff Peninsula, a “thumb” of land carved by a relatively sharp “U” in the Yack, was a summer destination looked forward to all year long (in the mid-to-late 1800s). Walkways, painted fences, flowerbeds, and an ornate gazebo greeted travelers as they stepped down from the passenger car pulled by the B&O Railroad, as it pulled into the Ferncliff depot. The forests and falls, fine food, and electrified guest rooms in the Ferncliff Hotel, music & dancing, fountains and venues for sports all combined to create an enchanting resort and escape from the city heat. At the peak of its popularity, Ferncliff charmed 10,000 – 20,000 sumer visitors into buying a $1 ticket for the 65-70 mile trip from Pittsburgh or Cumberland, MD to the beauties of Ferncliff.

In addition to the Ferncliff Hotel that stood on the peninsula, the Ohiopyle house was heated for year-round use. Near the hotel in Ranier Park, a steam calliope filled the river valley with music as children and adults alike rode the carousel for a nickel.

Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, Quebec

Tuesday, Sept. 8 & Wednesday Sept. 9

Looooong drive from Parc et Mer/Mont-Louie to our destination: Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, and another private campground nestled beside the St. Lawrence Seaway, La Demi-Lieue, or the Half-League. It is right on the water, apparently on a spit of land, so the sub-head for the signage was “Bord du Fleuve” (or “La Bordure du Fleuve”), which means something like “edge of the river, or edge of the spit.”

We thought it would take about 4 hours, but we made several stops along the way, hoping to find a really good grocery store, and either a wine store or a grocery store that had a robust selection of wines — but we kept hitting “big box” places with no deli or butcher sections, and nearly no drinkable wines.

I’ve about given up on finding decent beer in Canada. The only micros I’ve tasted that are worth their salt don’t sell anywhere except their own breweries and/or towns, or only by the keg. Evidently, Budweiser is a very popular brand (and of course, Molsen’s) because I could get any variation on the theme in enormous quantities. *sigh*

Next time we come to the Maritime provinces, we’re headed to wherever we can find a beer called “Butcher Block” by a brewery called Tadamagouch (or similar). We had that on the first night of our bike tour, at the Five Fishermen restaurant in Halifax and it was the best of all we tried along the way. Also, I hear that, on the south shore of Nova Scotia is a beer called Boxing Rock that I have to try.

Next time.

Anyway, it was a totally lovely drive along the coast road. The clouds had risen by the time we hitched and got away, just misting the high mountains. We enjoyed some sun along the way, and I took some snaps from the car.

Later in the day, the clouds came back and it got quite chilly out, but didn’t rain. We could see major changes in the landscape as it moved away from the mountainous Gaspé region, south into more agricultural land. Busy little sea-side (or by this time, perhaps it’s better to say river-side) towns dotted the coastline.

We also noticed a thinning of the St. Lawrence, and could finally see land on the opposite side.

The village closest to the campground, Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, is very attractive and quaint looking, with lots of quirky sculptures sitting around and nice signage for shops and cafés. But it was close to 6PM so we didn’t stop.

We snagged a simply lovely site at the edge of a small inlet (site #33) and there are few enough folks here that we could use the empty site next door (#31) to pull Roomba up parallel to the shoreline, rather than the normal perpendicular. Our awning faces the water, and there are big rocks that might need exploring in the AM.

A near neighbor is an Alto owner — Benoit and Gisanne (?) who live nearby, we guess, in Quebec province. They really lucked out on obtaining their model 1743 (fixed roof): they’d put in their order with Denis Messier at Safari Condo this past June, and had put down a deposit. Then they saw one up for sale in the classifieds, and they were something like the fifth caller. The seller had used it once, didn’t like the trailer part and wanted a VR-self-contained (conversion van from Safari Condo), and was selling his brand new, 2016 – 1743 model for the price he paid. They agreed (rather than wait for their own to be built in 18 months), and made the purchase after seeing it.

Denis refunded their deposit and a 1743 has a new happy home, while the new owners are extremely happy. The seller remarked that there had been 10 additional calls after theirs, and he could have sold it for much more than what he’d paid. They realized they were very lucky, and were loving their new baby. This stop was their third trip in their new trailer.

In a larger town en route called Rivière-du-Loup we had found a really great IGA grocery store and got shrimps to grill and a nice white wine to accompany. I fixed some cous-cous and we had a salad with it. Had also gotten a nice wedge of Morbier cheese, but we were pretty beat and only sat outside in the dark watching the lights on the waterway until we finished the wine. Then we hit the hay.

Wednesday: Heard rain on Roomba’s roof so we stayed abed longer that usual, finally getting up around 7:15. The overcast was spotty, so we enjoyed some sun as we leisurely took our breakfast: grilled sausage patty sliders and OJ. Yum.

The rocks in front of our home beckoned, and so I took a scramble across them. The tide was out, but even then, I had to roll up my pant legs to wade into the water rounding one rock-tumbled edge. Saw some fish trapped in a pool along the way, so I figured the tide would rise at least to their level.

I was right. by about 3PM we saw high tide and it was submerging most of the grassy “beachfront” we were enjoying from our “veranda.”

Long before high tide, however, Jack was watching the forecast, which was for deteriorating sunshine and higher winds. We wanted to get into St.-Jean-Port-Joli for lunch and a look-around, so we rolled up and stowed away the awning, brought the grill inside, and closed down most of the windows and hatches (no more destroyed slippers for me, thank you very much).

We drove into town, visited their IGA (these are excellent grocery stores in Quebec, by the way) anticipating making our lunch before we leave in the AM and eating sandwiches along the way, to save stop-time. Afterward, we parked the car and walked around a bit, and found THE MOST EXCELLENT café for lunch.

Hard to tell exactly what it was called, but I think the name is The Robin Hood, although the sign is as below. We stared at the posted menu for a while, picking out a word here and there, and then just decided to go in.

The waitress didn’t have much English, but the cook did, so she came out and explained their specials board. I ordered the “Mexican” omelette, and Jack had a grilled ham and cheese and leek soup.

Wow. There was a hint of maple syrup in the leek soup, which added a very special edge to the flavor. My omelette was fluffy and chock full of sautéed veggies, all cooked to perfection and topped with cheese. Why it was called Mexican, I never could guess because it wasn’t spicy or full of ham or beans or anything one might expect. Fresh bread was served with the soup and my omelette, and we had a grand lunch.

The predicted weather was obviously rolling in so we headed back to Roomba as the wind picked up. The rain held off for a while, and then came for a short shower, and just when we thought it might be over, we saw it rolling in from the west with the risen tide. It was pretty spectacular, raining horizontally and blowing all around.

After the squall, the clouds stayed as the sun set and our end of the campground suddenly was crawling with photographers and lovers and dog-walkers to see the truly spectacular sunset. Even when everyone had left, the miracle of nature wasn’t done yet, and we enjoyed a second sunset as the sun reflected off the clouds. It was truly awesome.

We did sit outside after our dinner of leftover pasta and enjoyed the Morbier and Port. The wind was calming and the temperatures rose a bit and it was a splendid evening, indeed.

Overnight in PA

Headed to World’s End State Park in Pennsylvania, (Sunday, August 16), trying to conserve data use, we ran into some interesting guidance from our car’s mapping system. First, it was telling us to take an exit that “she” called “number 235W” when there was both a # 235 A and a # 235 B, but nothing remotely resembling an exit W. We were rather confused about which exit the guidance system meant. “She” actually wanted us to go west on the route indicated, but seemed to mix up the route number and the exit numbers. In the end, we did choose the correct one, but there was a bit of tension until we figured it out.

Later, as we were trying to find the entrance to World’s End State Park, the brown sign said to turn left for the park entrance, whereas the mapping system wanted us to carry on along our same route to get there. Jack was driving at this point so he elected in a nanosecond to follow the brown street signs and we turned. When the system “recalculated the route” we were elated to discover we might have shaved 10 miles off the trip time.

Turns out, however, there was a particular turn required to get to the campground area, but from our direction, one could not make that hairpin turn. So we were forced to head left and wound up near the lovely river with 2000 of our closest friends and picnickers, and about 100 yards later, we were informed by another brown sign that we were leaving World’s End park and “Thanks for visiting.”

A quite-tight U-turn, navigating through the very crowded parking and snack hut area, and finally, a discussion with a friendly park ranger got us turned around the right way. The place is much like a bee hive, there are so many visitors here. We might have to turn on the air conditioning to shut out some of the noise. And of course, there seems to be no cell service, and certainly no wi-fi.

We ended up giving at least 3 Roomba tours to our fellow campers, and one even said, “Everyone in camp is talking about your trailer!”

Notes from the drive: Ran into a rain storm about 3PM along Rt. 220 and the temps dropped, at long last. At the grocery store, it was 88 degrees. Earlier on the Interstate, it was 92. So nice for it to drop to 73 for the afternoon.

Somewhere outside of Lewisburg (where we got groceries) along I-180, I saw the most beautiful redtailed hawk sitting on a power pole. She was big, and had a very pale head, similar in color to her breast. She was looking down at something below to pounce on, and I saw her back (had a small patch of pure white at the nape of her neck) and her tail — juvenile! What a beauty. Wish I lived in PA so I could attempt to trap that one, for sure!

Saw the prettiest house simply covered up with bright pink petunias. Got a shot or three as we drove past.
Early in our drive, wish I could have taken a pic of an enormous dragon outside a series of dilapidated old shops in MD (or was it WV?). But I was driving and there was nowhere to pull over to pause for a photo op. But it was great. I aspire to making that kind of dragon sculpture in my front pasture. It’s head must have been high as a two-story house.

	Jen on Sherando Lake Recreation Area,…
	Tom on Sherando Lake Recreation Area,…
	acwynn on Sherando Lake Recreation Area,…
	Jack on Raccoon Creek State Park-…
	chichlee on Ohiopyle State Park, PA