Author: srj641

This morning, while waiting for the sunrise to break down our RV for a journey south, my mind drifted toward the topic of hair….and it’s ability to mess with your psyche. The days of arising, showering and arranging ones coiffure are long past me. I knew it was coming, I watched dad’s hairline run from his brow early on. When it comes to hair styles, probably as much a result of my early life as an Army brat as anything, I prefer a neat hairstyle. I have worn flat-tops, middle parts and side parts, with no particular preference for any of them, mostly dictated by the circumstances at hand.

While on this trip, I made one last attempt at a grow out, with the same dismal results as the last attempt. What little hair I still have grows much like an ill kept, drought suffering garden…some here, some there but all thin and irregular. Back to the razor, or “Pit Bull’ an electric shaver for hair challenged folks. I have acquiesced to Sharon’s wishes and did manage a decent, short, snow white beard that she trims with precision. Men, in particular, understand the contempt that hair has for our gender. Nothing on the pate, but a constant fight with nose, ear and eyebrow growth less you look like Ichabod Crane on a bad day.

There is a caveat to a shaved head. At least every other day you must shave your “monks crown” the strip that continues to produce on the sides of your head. Looks has never been my strong suit, and I have graduated into the jeans, and cargo lifestyle, topped with sweat shirts or pullovers, with Hoka’s to take care of abused feet. I am also not offended by dog hair having raised 5 Labs over the years. They, if you aren’t aware, are hair producers on a grand scale. Hair doesn’t bother me…..unless it shows up in something I am trying to eat, in which case it destroys my appetite instantly.

As a final note, politicians mostly seem to have great hair, or a penchant for massive comb overs. I strongly suspect a lot of what we see is acrylic stuff precisely centered on their challenged pates. On the other hand, I am in good company these days, a short beard and slick dome, and have no political future. Time to fire up Cirrus and tug the Taz M’Haul down the road.

Have a great week!

SR

This week we established our base camp in Kalamazoo, at a delightful county run park on the edge of town. Kalamazoo reminded us we are not out west any longer, with traffic and people with attitudes. That being said we made a side trip (30) miles to a lake beach in a village called South Haven. In a word, it was beautiful with a beach that rivals the Gulf Coast.

Lake Michigan is gin clear here, with gentle waves breaking on a clean, sand beach at the entrance to a harbor that is undoubtedly adorning post cards somewhere. This is where the Michigan folks, who have the means to sail really nice boats and motor craft, kept in slips that go for between 40K and 90K each, congregate. There is a neat little draw bridge that grants access to tall boats that proliferate this harbor. If you are willing to settle for a home off the beach, the real estate is just a pinch higher than inland. Beach front property here belongs to the DuPonts and Carnegie’s, with a string of zeros in the purchase price…..

We are officially in the off season and folks are pulling their watercraft out for storage everywhere you look. The charter fishermen are still going out for the abundant fish in this part of the lake, equipped with tackle much lighter than salt water guides rely on, but still substantial. This lake is deep and planer boards are necessary to get down to the bigguns.

We have taken a fair measure of Michigan and like it. The weather is described as moderately cold around South Haven, but these folks have frozen nearly to death for many years and have no concept of what we would describe as moderate. Their farms are massive and productive and of course they know apples and cherries. Their roads have been good to excellent, with the secondary roads in surprisingly good shape. If you are RV’ing, there is no necessity to ride the super slabs, which tend to be race tracks. My single complaint is their penchant for following too close. They are masters at it…

Today we ship out for Sandusky, Ohio. It is a “bump and run” stop, meaning one night, then on to what is described as super Elk Country, (Benezette) Pennsylvania. There is a herd thought to number some 1400 wild Elk that can be viewed, especially in the fall when they start moving lower.

Have a good week!

SR

We spent the better part of the day on the renowned Mackinac Island yesterday, an Island on Lake Huron, that encompasses a little over 4 square miles. It is on the historic register, with a battle during the War of 1812 being fought there. At least a decade ago, we spent another day there and not much has changed. We considered lunch at the Grand Hotel, but it appears their buffet is history, and getting a table is not likely due to its popularity. This hotel, for those who have not visited the island is a popular wedding venue and hosted several weddings this weekend, among other events. You can rent a horse at a local livery, replete with the saddle style your prefer. It was tempting, and the horses were said to be well settled, but it is a long way from the saddle to the manure coated streets for an old(er) guy like me. We passed. The town was bustling, in spite of the cool weather, with many draft horse drawn conveyances pulling wagons full of tourists around. The horses were magnificent, big, strong and committed to their life strolling Main Street. There were uniformed men, pushing handcarts equipped with brooms and shovels to remove the copious piles of horse exhaust from the streets. This method of removal left a thin coat of manure from curb to curb. Of interest, there are 85,000 bicycles licensed on the island.

We finally settled at the well known Pink Pony for lunch. It was adequate but certainly not wonderful, even with the ambiance of sitting over gin clear Lake Huron. There were approximately 10 million tee and sweat shirts for sale and fudge at every turn. The locals are referred to as fudgies, entirely appropriate. In the height of the season, 10,000 pounds of the stuff is made there daily. If you like fudge, Murdicks is described as the pinnacle here by the world travelers we know.

The ferry ride over and back was fun. These ferries get right along, piloted by young Captains who handled the boats deftly. We opted to spend a few extra bucks to ride under the bridge, another incredible engineering feat, one of many in the Great Lakes area.

If my descriptions are underwhelming, it is with reason. Mackinac Island is a must see for folks, a showcase highlighting the art of tourism, and if you have between one and five thousand a night, the Grand Hotel is, well, grand. I am guessing my many years in and around Branson, Mo. have resulted in our appreciation of the smaller towns and hamlets around our country. We eat, when we can, where the locals eat, shop with local folks and love local attractions.

Today we motor over to Leelanau and the Traverse City area for a few days. We have been there before and love the understated beauty of this region. There is a fish ladder there, adjacent to a great little restaurant, much more my style.

Have a great week!

SR

Having spent the majority of my life in America’s bread basket, it was easy for me to be lulled into the premise that we had the market cornered with our grain production. Not so. The corn fields in Minnesota are magnificent, thousands of acres of beautiful crops in the southern half of the state, each sporting a neat copse of trees and equally neat farmsteads. It is a shame this state has slid into political oblivion, led by a moronic, deceitful Governor, and is the home of riotous folks in their urban areas.

We are currently encamped in Duluth, an interesting old town on the shores of Lake Superior. The old architecture, narrow streets and wonderful table fare make it a great place to visit. We found an Italian eatery, on the waterfront, operated by a second generation Italian fellow who manned the kitchen, bar and dining area while assuming the duties of the maitre’d and reservation host. For you that might be interested, it’s name VaBene. It was small and rustic with the prep kitchen downstairs and the finish kitchen close to the bar. The food was authentic Italian fare, not lathered in the thick tomato sauces we have come to expect. It was as good as any we have EVER eaten. The area, downtown, is replete with any number of taverns and ethnic eateries with a strong Irish emphasis. I would love to say we enjoyed the mild temperatures, however they were eclipsed by incessant fog and rain, making strolling less than pleasant.

The area is also home to Duluth Trading, my official clothier these days. The store spawned a retail empire, with stores around the country and perhaps the most efficient mail order business going. I was in my equivalent of Sax 5th Avenue or Nieman Marcus. One of the perks of age is the freedom to wear functional, durable and practical clothing and they are as good as it is in that line.

Duluth is also home to old but terrific harbors where the rich(er) and famous folks berth their sailboats and motor yachts. Mind you, it is not the Riveria or some exotic Caribbean harbor, rather an entirely practical place smelling of oil with off colored water typical of a place designed to protect your equipment from the sometimes harsh winds and constant fog. No pretense here, believe me. Duluth is about the size of our Springfield, with half the city close to the waterfront and the other half “on the hill” overlooking old town. In talking to the locals, we learned that soon, the boatyard owner will be pulling all of these boats out and storing them on the parking lots. As is usual, some folks are a little sloppy in covering this expense, so he now demands full payment up front, in and out, before he moves your boat.

Our travels have taken us to many interesting places with Duluth being extraordinarily so. We love the Great Lakes and are moving on tomorrow with a short term goal of Leelenau (Mackinac) Michigan. It is easy to see why so many folks RV full time, eschewing their stick, brick and mortars for the open road. I am far too traditional (old school) to do that, but, health willing, plan to keep on keeping on as much as possible. The treasure that is Duluth, where we are ensconced in a boat yard and can easily walk downtown is the reward. Not an RV park, but a parking lot with stubbed in plumbing and hookups, that becomes a giant dry dock in the winter months. We have barely scratched the surface of new and interesting places. A last point, the roads in Duluth are abominable….and I am being kind.

Have a great week!

SR

As I write, the assassination of Charlie Kirk is being investigated by a team of the finest forensic and criminal investigators on this planet. The current administration will see to it. I know better than to speculate on this horror, as the facts, as they are uncovered, will be carefully metered to the public so as to not jeopardize the investigation. We do know that American Conservatism is under siege, from the media, the left and haters of our Republic. I am writing to state the obvious in plain language. Decency, tolerance, the rule of law, respect, and normalcy is vanishing. These concepts are the very essence of America and we cannot survive if they are not restored.

Our institutions of higher education, the legacy media, the radical left, and hatred is driving our demise at breakneck speed. It is hard to understand the motives of folks who burn our cities, attack our citizenry, and violently attack points of view not consistent with theirs. Our President has been spared death from a bullet and another would be assassin hiding in bushes waiting for his shot before being discovered and arrested. If you take issue with our slide into mediocrity, you will be a target of an errant prosecution or worse a killer bent on ending your life. If you can carry a point, make a case for reason, influence ordinary folks with logic and publicly support a Christian point of view, you won’t be met with intelligent argument today. Intelligent argument has been replaced with violence. Reason is being replaced with radical thought and action. Decency is no longer in vogue, indeed indecency is the tool of the radical left elements of our society.

Charley Kirk dared to challenge this new way of thinking and acting. He carried a flag for the unborn, Christians and traditional American values. He was dangerous to the radical element that has a foothold on our future, as he was able to challenge the new order and influence the young people who will soon guide our country. He was country eloquent, brilliant and well versed in the workings of government and the challenges presented by those seeking our demise. Most of all, he was wrapped in courage, recognizing the danger to himself and those like him yet soldiering on with faith in the Lord he worshipped. Once upon a time, collective reasoning prevailed at the polls, and the country established its course through leadership. Not today, another leader has been struck down. It is the way today, settling our differences with lethality.

We are in trouble folks. It wasn’t just Charlie Kirk who bled to death, America is bleeding, albeit not in one fatal moment, but just as surely. America is on life support and we know why. The question is, what are we going to do about it? This question is not rhetorical…..we are nearing the end and the world is watching. Are you in this fight or wringing your hands on the sideline? We must find a way forward……

SR

This week has been akin to the dust devils that populate Arizona, changing directions many times. Today we are leaving Anaconda, Mt. for Reed Point, Mt., after being schooled on the colorful history of this town of about 9,000 or so. Montana is a treasure, a state where you can easily enjoy being in the mountains or the wonderful high plateaus between ranges where the mountains are a constant vista.

Back to Anaconda. This town was formed by an industrialist as a place to smelt copper ore from mines in Butte, located 14 miles east of here. He constructed a 585’ tall chimney, made of bricks that were molded on site and stacked to make one of the highest masonry stacks in the world. The town grew with “smelters” coming in from all over with their families. We are camped at the foot of this huge operation, which is now an EPA super site, meaning the companies that were operating here have poured billions into reclamation efforts to clean up the arsenic that resulted from the production of copper. The copper produced was good stuff, 99.5% pure, and made Marcus Daly a fabulously rich man. The workers unionized, and the inevitable conflicts began, while Mr. Daly weighed his money. This county has voted for a Democratic candidate in Presidential elections since Calvin Coolidge, a natural occurrence with a union workforce. The town has opulent churches, was strongly Catholic in faith, had 57 bars and one brothel, small in size but apparently very profitable. The churches and main street buildings, to include a theater that will sit nearly 1,000 patrons at a time are, simply put, masterpieces. The town also is home to just under 600 deer that loll about on folks lawns and casually stroll down main street. For reference we are in the Bitterroot Valley. I could ramble on, but by now you get the picture. At one time, money flowed out of here by the rail car load, and Mr. Daly poured millions into the towns infrastructure and it is evident.

We began the day touring the old Montana Penitentiary, located in Deer Lodge a few miles from here. It closely resembles Missouri’s old prison with high sandstone walls constructed by a workforce of prisoners. The warden, during the early years, was progressive and ran a pretty good prison, as prisons go. It was either brutally hot in the halls or horribly cold, and as mean a place as existed at the time. It was a coed facility at first, but changed to a male only institution soon after, as the he’ing and she’ing got out of hand. Walking this facility reinforced my notion of life on the right side of the law. I am including pictures of a gallows, still standing in its original spot, designed by a prison official to expediently dispatch the only two inmates executed here. It was simple but contrived, designed to “jerk up” up the condemned rather than a fall through a trap door. It was a design failure, resulting in the prisoners taking 10 and12 minutes, respectively, to expire via strangulation rather than a clean neck break. It was still applauded, as the men twisted in the wind, as they had killed a deputy warden during their only riot. In a word, the prison was as depressing as our institution in Missouri, which predates Montana’s by years.

A note. America is rift with a terrific history that you cannot relive in books or stories told by scribes like me. You need to get out, if you are able, and taste the beginnings of the greatest nation on earth to appreciate the toil, suffering and maturation of our Republic. I never gave more than passing thought about Montana, believing it to be a state of harsh winters and big skies. A misconception corrected by a down and dirty dive into its colorful past. Enjoy the pictures, in no particular order.

SR

We are off to new adventures, completely in synch with the RV lifestyle. Y’all have a great week and be safe.

Our “elimination tour“ has taken a turn. We have only just begun to experience the northwestern United States, a beautiful part of America, but until this week have found nothing to challenge the comfort and culture of our home, Missouri. This week we have discovered why so many retired police officers and fire-fighters have relocated to this region in Idaho. It is beautiful with two monster lakes (natural, not impoundments!) anchoring the communities of Coeur D’Alene and Sandpoint, Idaho. But there is more.

These communities skirt the eastern and southern edges of Spokane, Washington, a big town with many amenities attractive to aging folks. There is an excellent medical infrastructure, plenty of shopping opportunities and too many dining opportunities to describe. The great outdoors is the draw here, with skiing and water sports in spades, and world class fishing at hand. I no longer hunt, which is unfortunate, as the big game opportunities in this region have no peer.

Down town Coeur D’Alene is drop dead gorgeous, mostly in a quaint but modern sort of way. Its vibrant shopping district offers just about all you can imagine, close to one of the nicest lakefront parks in the country. It is exceedingly clean, with campy sculptures along the sidewalks, striking civic pride and people as friendly as anywhere we have been. The region has earned its reputation as a safe, attractive and mostly affordable location to kick back after a career in policing and fire-fighting. The shop owners readily acknowledge the presence of all these emergency response folks with pride. The very liberal atmosphere of the Spokane area is checked at the border as you ease across the state line. The communities here reflect the conservative nature of the national police and fire-fighter community in general, and there is no evidence of DEI initiatives to be found.. Among the merchants, we found that every other one hails from California, a state they were all too ready to abandon.

Two days ago we slipped into northern Montana, “Big Sky Country.” With speed limits at 80 in many places, vistas that are breath taking, and streams that defy description, what is there not to like. (We are old and slow, with 65 being our normal cruise speed these days.) This state is another outdoor enthusiast’s dream. We are in Kalispell, settled by cowboys, prospectors and lumbermen. It is another really nice, clean and complete town. Without a doubt, Montana is another state we would consider for the long term. A trip to Glacier Park is on the immediate schedule, but you can do nicely drinking in the scenery and country along Montana’s roads. Magnificent comes to mind.

What an adventure. Have a great week!

SR

We have been to Mackinac Island and found it to be absolutely charming. Our experiences created certain expectations as to what we would find in fabled Victoria, Vancouver Island, B.C. Unfortunately, we found an entirely different vibe and scene. With a few exceptions, what we found was a miniature New York City, a very busy urban environment with an obvious tourist oriented overtone. Our intention was to spend a long day soaking up the culture and staying on the move, however; we cut our day short and rode an earlier ferry back to Port Angeles, Wa. ( I am oriented to rural environments as opposed to urban, which has influenced my view of Victoria.)

On the positive side of the equation, we found Victoria to be a vibrant, urban city moving at the speed of light. It was very clean except for the waterfront, which poses a problem for virtually every location on any harbor. Prices, even with the conversion were not an issue, reflecting our economy pretty closely. If you enjoy shopping, it is your Mecca, as long as you enjoy numerable shops strongly oriented toward capturing tourist dollars. The Parliament Building was grand, the centerpiece of the waterfront area, as nice as any statehouse in our country. The weather was absolutely ideal and the landscaping simply divine. The city is laid out well and urban planning is very evident. Pedestrian traffic enjoys wide sidewalks and the bicycle reigns supreme, with bike lanes built into every street and district. Ground transportation is excellent with ricksha buggies, a strong bus network, horse drawn carriages, pedi-cabs and taxis, to include cute little water taxis scooting around the harbor everywhere you look. The 90 minute ferry ride over and back was delightful with Mt. Baker towering over the water.

Why did we leave early? We walked to their small, but authentic, Chinatown and settled on a Chinese Restaurant that looked pretty authentic. The food was a solid four on a ten scale, bland and not in character. (I have lived in the far east for years and know authentic ethnic food when I see it.) We are confident that excellent table fare can be found but we struck out here. While there were a few up scale retail businesses, downtown was a collection of bauble and trinket stores with a focus on shirts and backpacks. It totally lacked the sophistication of a Seaside district (Florida) or Mackinac Island. If you are not exceedingly careful, you will likely be killed in a bike lane as the bicyclists, in heavy pedestrian traffic, cruised at the speed of light. We went, we saw and we likely would never return, instead saving our discretionary dollars for other destination venues. The town is a collection of high rise motels, in every direction, catering to the huge tourist flow, I am sure, year around. Diversity is on display with the mood being decided liberal in nature. It was very crowded as this is an extremely popular tourist destination.

Okay, so I will never find work for their Chamber of Commerce, but I call ‘em like I see ‘em. We will be in Washington another couple of days as we drift east through Spokane into Idaho. The state is absolutely gorgeous and well worth the drive.

Have a great week!
SR

No, not the basketball team, rather mavericks in our history. Folks who get off the reservation occasionally and marched to their own drum, making a difference when the norm is failing. Where, exactly did this description come from you ask. A texas cattleman, Samuel Maverick, refused to brand his cattle, preferring to let them roam freely….that was clearly against the grain and a descriptive was born.

Mavericks, by nature, are innovators. They tend to find a way to get things done, often stirring up controversy along the way. They tend to become leaders as a result of their lack of inhibition, often achieving results well beyond the world of established norms. They are a colorful part of American history and lore. They may be profane, or not, relying on “colorful language” to make a point, as the shock value can be inspiring. An example of this would be George Patton, who had one foot in a bucket of crap and the other foot on a banana peel most of the time. He, however, achieved astounding success as a General, feared by his adversaries, often castigated by his followers, but greatly admired in the end. His troops would, and did, follow him into hell with little reservation. When the 101st Airborne found themselves in deep sewage at Bastogne, Patton swung his entire 3d Army and broke the bulge, liberating the 101st. Profane, brash and brilliant with a boss (Eisenhower) who could barely control him. Ike, knew, however, that when the impossible needed doing, Patton was his man.

A modern day maverick would be one Donald Trump. To say he thinks outside the box is a gross understatement. He confounds his adversaries and likely scares the hell out of his staff, but is perhaps the most results oriented President since the turn of the century. Like Patton, he says things that are extremely irritating, blusters freely, and commands attention. He is fearless, has skin thicker than an elephant’s, and has energy that defies description. Which President in modern history would dust off his best bombers and fly them into Iran, obliterating their nuclear capabilities? Who would establish tariffs, against all conventional thinking, and achieve astounding results? Which President in modern history would draw a line and smack down the liberal establishment when they cross it? Mr. Trump has a plan, amends it on the go, and gets results. He does not think outside the box, he lives outside the box.

The left is currently paralyzed. They cannot rationally respond to Mr. Trump’s actions leaving them to a strategy that involves making fools of themselves. I am writing today to suggest that folks embrace this once in a lifetime maverick, and enjoy the ride. If every business in America was as results driven as this administration, there would be no end to our success. You don’t have to love folks like Patton and Trump, but you cannot argue with their successes. In the end, it is not so much the approach….it is the result.

Have a great week, pardon my swerve into the political arena, and enjoy the ride.

SR

One of the many advantages of RV travel is the ability to change directions, routes and destinations quickly, as in after a 30 minute discussion. We have moved inland to an another delightful town in the heart of Oregon’s Pinot Noir country, McMinnville. We drove through miles of manicured vineyards and orchards to get here, some 30 miles east of the coast, and have established our outpost at Old Stone RV Resort, among the top 5 parks we have visited in 7 years of RV’ing. This is a large park and every square inch not under a concrete pad is perfectly landscaped. The office is opulent, and the salt water, heated pool is beautiful. All this at an affordable price. Within a few miles is a Monrovia garden and nursery, literally a mile or so in length and as wide. Landscaping comes naturally to these folks.

We are about 40 miles south of the city of thuggery, Portland, which is as close as we’ll get. Oregon is surprisingly conservative, AWAY from the metropolitan areas which constitute the majority of their electorate.

We are walking distance, on a manicured paved sidewalk, from a huge aviation museum, replete with a SR-71 and the Spruce Goose that Howard Hughes built and flew. Of course that is on our agenda for the next 8 days or so. There is also an airport within a mile or so, with a helicopter and fixed wing training program, filling the skies with eager student pilots, shooting approaches and hovering about. My planning and logistics officer/chef and travel guide has once again exceeded every expectation. Today, she has earned another bottle of Oregons finest vino.

As is our recent custom, I am forwarding photos to better explain our current situation, with more to come this week of the vineyards and our travel. Readers can expect additional photos of the museum as an extra feature.

A final thought. We are canvassing the neighborhood this morning to find Jim Cantori. When we lodged in Arizona, wild, wind driven fires began burning the Grand Canyon up, so we relocated to coastal Oregon and apparently triggered a record earthquake and a tsunami threat. We are now in the legendary Willamette Valley and are facing a rare “extreme heat” event tomorrow through Tuesday with predicted highs of near 107, actual. Kinda spooky!

Have a great week!

SR