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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

When I was a kid, living with my Grand Parents in the piedmont of South Carolina, I was exposed to the art of growing fine tobacco. I can remember the government carefully measuring EC Cooke’s tobacco crop and demanding he plow a row or two under, as he had exceeded his allotment. I have never used the stuff but do remember the warm smell of freshly cured tobacco lying on a wooden floor being graded and tied by my family for sale at auction. Oregon finds itself in need of a similar control in the growing and processing of its prodigious crop of cannabis sativa, aka weed, pot, grass, ganja, bud, kush, puff or any of the other 1,000 or so names. Their market is soft, the result of legalization in other states resulting in an over supply of the dangerous weed. Damn the bad luck.

In Oregon you can grow up to four plants for personal use, a majority of the big grow operations are outdoors and you must erect a barrier to block it from public view. They have a lot of experience with this business, and it shows. There are any number of aging “hippies” along the coast, many of which are buzzed out, drifting about with their rather large group of homeless folks. This is the case in the delightful small towns along the Pacific Coast Highway, but we’ll never know if this is the case in their runaway cities. It is a gorgeous state, replete with natural resources that defy imagination. They also produce award winning wine, specifically Pinot Noir. I am clueless about fine wine, having consumed a fair amount of Rosey O’Grady and Boones’s Farm when coming of age. I like it sweet, if at all, and find dry wines to be a test of my will.

We are currently on the harbor in Coos Bay Oregon, the biggest town on US 101, in their state, at around 15,000 good folks. The temperatures have been running around 70 for the high and the upper 50’s for the low. Salt water sport fishing is the order of the day here and they like tourists. They should, as marijuana, wine and logging are what is happening in these parts and tourists bring a lot of money to the area, with good reason. It is breathtakingly gorgeous, period.

I’ll let pictures do the talking.

A final word. There are any number of internet warriors who suggest that Highway 101 is a problem. It is not, at least in Oregon. It is in great condition, overall, but you must stay focused. The locals are tolerant and pass in one of the numerous passing zones, and there are ample pull outs to swing over and let the buildup behind you go by. A trip along this road, in our 230i convertible, would be priceless. The hamlets and towns are rustic, clean and fun. Fuel is a dollar cheaper than California and readily available. Food is expensive and you need to choose carefully where you seek respite. We go where the locals go and avoid the tourist traps that are inevitable. We have enjoyed the ride and are getting into an interesting phase of our journey, northern Oregon and Washington State, where Victoria Island awaits. If I could, I would bottle up this weather and send it to my people in Missouri. The alternative, for you is obvious!

Have a great week, SR.

We are presently reposing in a chicken yard cleverly disguised as a RV park in scenic Weed, Ca. The town is named after a fellow, Abner Weed, who in 1961 established a lumber business hereabouts. We made the drive from Reno to Mt. Shasta where we enjoyed lunch among the youthful crowd in this pretty village. We were in the shadow of this magnificent mountain, towering some 14,000’ above the Cascade Range, where we enjoyed a lunch and Miss Sharon quaffed a gigantic blackberry Maggie-Rita. The designated driver enjoyed a damned Pepsi. The drive north was fantastic, with beautiful tall pine forests much of the way. The roads were a 6-7 with good shoulders and nominal traffic. Weed is a few miles north of Mt. Shasta, just off I-5.

It is hard to imagine that Californians elected Gravel Nusance their Governor and the likes of Fancy Potted as a representative. In fairness, up here we passed a number of Trump signs and not a single Joey B sign. Being a sleuth, I quickly deduced that much of California’s budget woes are the result of deer crossing warning signs, located about every 10 miles or so on their highways, advising of frequent deer movements, some miles ahead. The warned highways overlap one another and they could save money by putting up a big neon sign suggesting you were going to hit a deer if you weren’t concentrating on the immediate road ahead. It figures, the deer are as restless as Californians in general, who are fleeing the state in huge numbers.

Now, about the campground. It has a large chicken pen, replete with old Shasta trailers acting as coops. I managed to capture a picture of Roho, the boss rooster who was selecting his roost partner for the evening. Several of his harem were outside their pen, wandering through the campground precluding anyone from walking about at dusk. You are quite likely to step where you should not, resulting in your shoes reeking of Democratic cologne, or pardon me, chicken shite.

Tomorrow we will be out of California and travelling north into Oregon in search of the coastal gem, US 101. An additional thought, I shopped for diesel fuel and finally found a bargain at 5.43 a gallon. The pump ran hot as it delivered this fuel with the cost meter turning at breakneck speed. Some more of their government at work…..

Have a great week!

SR

Rather than bore my readers with loads of “vacation” pictures, I thought I would summarize the past week in and around Zion, Bryce Canyon, and the Arches National parks. There are thousands of commercially shot pictures of these parks that eclipse our talent behind the camera, or a viewfinder that my friend, Mike, in Springfield relies upon.

In a word, these parks offer a panorama of majestic rock formations, scenery, and ease of travel through them. Succinctly put, Zion is magnificent, Bryce awe inspiring and the Arches unique. Zion was our favorite, but you would not want to miss the other two. Be sure and get your senior pass to visit these parks without paying admission fees of around 30 bucks a shot. I strongly recommend bringing a lunch and/or plethora of snacks and drinks as they are not available once you enter. It will save a fight over half a moldy protein bar later. Only the south rim of the Grand Canyon is open, the north rim being destroyed by wildfire in the past two weeks, driving the tourist crowd to the south side. The air can be iffy at this point so be careful, particularly if an inhaler is in your pocket.

Now for the local flavor. The Navajo Indian people, by far and way are stand offish and not particularly welcoming. I was surprised, even though I understand their history. Page, Arizona is the key to Powell Lake’s Glenn Canyon dam and the lower reaches of a nearly 200 mile long lake. The food was a 4-5 on a 10 scale and outside of Wal-Mart and a very good Safeway store, there existed an infrastructure I suspect is typical of a town founded in 1957. Next up was the charming town of Kanab, Utah. It was rustic, and laid back with a very friendly vibe. We then moved northwest through Utah, with neat small towns (super clean), terrific roads and vistas that were grand. You barely notice the miles clicking off. We returned to a highly tourist and commercially developed Moab, (we were there years ago to a different atmosphere.)We try to dine in most of the time, as restaurants costs are exorbitant. So far, we have not been rocked by any particular place, and we dig deep for local flavor off the beaten path. Of note, we are Wal-Mart, Sam’s Club pharmacy clients and obtaining the occasional refill at stores out west has been as easy as home.

We are striking out tomorrow across Nevada, into Col. Paul Corbin territory, and stopping in Reno to check out the gambling situation. We are on a tight casino budget, as in 20 bucks each, as I once regulated this industry in Missouri, and understand the business. Mathematically challenged folks should not enter these places. The RV parks at these establishments tend to be very reasonable, clean and accessible. We have yet to be burned in a casino park.

We have received conflicting advice on traveling Highway 101 north up the Oregon Coast. A dear friend, experienced in RV’ing says no way. Other folks say yes, just take your time as it is allegedly beautiful. This road is an RV favorite, and as a trooper, I am used to adverse traffic issues, and have infinite patience (well, the adverse traffic issue thing is right..🤨). We are all in on this adventure and hope we haven’t made a big mistake.

We have embraced the full time RV thing and love our modest trailer. Cirrus the Ram is proving to be strong and trouble free. One month in, the jitters are resolved and we are officially vagabonds.

(We are striking camp in the nick of time as the smoke from wildfires has reached us. Utah and Arizona are struggling with fire.)

Until next week!

SR