All posts by travelingdad

adventure, Amusement Parks, Attractions, Outdoors

Dolled up in Dollywood

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I come to this post a bit conflicted.  Dollywood was highly recommended by several of our friends, and it had its share of really cool things.  We loved eating at Miss Lillian’s, never suspecting we’d be serenaded by the grand lady herself.  photo(10)Miss Lillian is charming, funny, and worth the price of admission. The chicken was great too!

The Dollywood Express, an artifact from the Alaska-Canada Railroad, took us up into the Smoky Mountains–the real draw for us here in the region.

On the five-mile loop, there was perhaps a half-mile that could be reached by foot from a public area. I had the good sense to dphoto(12)rop my phone in one of these rare spots just after taking this photo. Once again, I prove there is a God watching out for fools.  And it was a pretty ride.

The Wings of America bird show was extremely entertaining, and easily rivaled Busch Gardens.  The kids thoroughly enjoyed both the information and the show.  One of those rare education-disguised-as-entertainment moments.photo(11) They even had a bird that collected donations in its beak! NPR may want to consider something like it. A line formed quickly to give dollar bills to the Foundation.

On the minus side, we are spoiled by Busch Gardens and Hershey Park, with online apps to show ride locations and wait times.  The park map was hard to decipher, and did not include show times and locations.  We stumbled upon a great Mother Africa show that reminded me so much of Gymkana on America’s Got Talent!

Finally, the trams.  Granted, it was opening day, and the place was packed.  A woman working the tram line assured us that, even for a day when everyone knew Dolly would be there, this was a crowd no one expected.  But to be herded into one more serpentine line just to get to our car….photo(13)I guess I am a whiner sometimes after all.

So we have four days in Hot Springs.  Your suggestions?

Attractions, People, weather

Cave City, Kentucky

First, to start the week, a big thank you to those who have recommended places-to-see so far.  Thanks to Bill C of Eldersburg, who suggested we stop in to Oak Ridge, Tennessee, where the Oak Ridge Boys of Elvira fame take their name.  Bill recommended the American Museum of Science and Energy, where IMG_1566 we witnessed spectacles that stood our hair on end! Oak Ridge is the Secret City created to provide the enriched uranium for Big Boy and the fateful choices that brought World War II to its climactic conclusion.  Awe inspiring and spine chilling.

Thanks also to Jen’s friend Bev from Maryland who recommended Mammoth Cave.  We have a tour scheduled for 9 am today.  And we are now citizens of Central Time!

Thanks as well to Resa D  of Parker, CO, who suggested we visit Cade’s Cove in Great Smoky Mountain National Park. She suggested hiking, and we did photo(8), but the boys also love discovering their own fishing holes.  photo(9)

Thanks, very much, to Eileen O of Maryland, who suggested we take in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg. Dollywood deserves its own post, so look for that in the next day or so.

It may just be coincidence, but I assume the town we’re in this morning gets its name from the nearby Mammoth Cave.  It is 27 degrees outside as I write, and in case you wondered, the campground shut off water just after we arrived yesterday afternoon so the pipes don’t freeze.

Because of our need for internet, for Jen’s work, and of course these vital posts, we are staying in campgrounds we don’t normally frequent. Of course, we’ve never had a 29-foot motorhome along either.  This is our second campground on the trip, and the second one that looks more like a drive in, for those who remember them, than  a park.

It’s really a flat expanse of grass squares dotting a crushed gravel drive, with a few picnic tables and fire rings (our site has neither), and a few trees that stand barely higher than the four-foot posts for the electrical and cable hook up. Yes, our kids have only ten channels to choose from.  Why, I remember a day…

But to its credit, it has a dog park where Shadow can run free if she can talk anyone into daring the bitter cold to walk her there.

 

 

adventure, Attractions

Gatlinburg, Tennessee

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Just a stone’s throw east of Pigeon Forge is the resort town of Gatlinburg. Both Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg have grown gangbusters since Franklyn Roosevelt designated the Great Smoky Mountains a park in 1940.  And both have attracted an astounding array of shops, attractions, and amusements to occupy every rainy day ’til the Rapture.

Speaking of rapture, The culture is a fascinating mix of overt Christian themes and symbols, and a reverence for all things Dukes of Hazzard.  In the midst of a grand log cabin facade on a row of shops is the message, Jesus Saves.  In Terry Evanswood’s Wonders of Magic at Wonderworks, he threatens jokingly at one point to lock the doors and preach for two hours.  (Read Jen’s and son 2’s review of the show here. )

Our kids delighted yesterday, returning from Gatlinburg’s very impressive Ripley’s Aquarium, in reading off the number of signs that advertised knives.  “Tobacco, beer, knives.” “Linens, moccasins, knives.” A dizzying array, including the selection for the discerning Christian: King James Knives. Open 24 hours. What do tourists do with all those knives?

For several wonderful hours yesterday we fished at Herbert Holt State Park outside of Gatlinburg, and our four-year-old made a steady stream of friends on the playground. IMG_6504Okay, we didn’t catch anything. But with the park rules limiting fishing to children only, nobody seemed to care much that fish weren’t biting.  It was a great spot for a picnic snack.

I expected the Ripley’s Aquarium to be, well, you know, two-headed sharks and blurred images of mermaids in grainy newsreels. Instead, I would have to say that while it lacked the grandeur of the National Aquarium,  the Japanese Crabs– about the size of a mastiff skeleton–were compelling, as was the exhibit devoted to slime in the natural world.

While twoIMG_1492 hours was probably enough, the collection is impressive, including a very cool feature that allowed the kids to control the sIMG_1527peed and direction of videos explaining the animals on display.  Nothing like watching a killer shark dismember a dolphin in slo-mo, then regurgitate the whole mammal, over and over!

adventure, Attractions

Pigeon Forge

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We rolled into Pigeon Forge just before dark on Saturday.  Two days of rain have given way to cool, sunny skies.  The main drag of Pigeon Forge must look much like Las Vegas at its heart, or Ocean City, Maryland, on steroids.  So many miniature golf, live shows, and attractions to choose from! Not really what we were seeking, and so incongruous here on the western foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains.IMG_6449

We are adjusting to motor home life.  Sunday, as my oldest and I considered how to raise the awning, I followed my son’s confused stare to a point behind me, where an older man was waving his arm’s in the international “stop what you’re doing before someone’s killed” sign.

Bill, from Ontario (do those Canadians loving driving or WHAT?), took a few minutes to set us right.  Since he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, i asked him about the secret workings of the hot water heater as well.  Now I can wash my dishes in hot water under the shade.  You never find this kind of friendly help at a Sheraton, I assure you.

IMG_6447We’ve done a couple day hikes, to commune with nature, and even taken in a couple of attractions . Each of the boys gets to choose one activity. Our youngest had to play miniature golf, and we had a great time at Gator Golf Putting Course.  

School’s starting soon, so see you after class!

 

 

 

 

adventure, Attractions

One Day to Float

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To say we were unprepared for the final days of our home sale would be a monumental understatement.  What began as a steady, somewhat disciplined effort so many months ago ended in a cartoon-like scene of jettisoning anything not breathing to empty our mother ship. The morning of our home closing Friday, we found ourselves in a lifeboat 29 feet long, full of God-knows-what. Somewhere in the clutter, three kids, including our very sick youngest.

Hands had been extended, and we took one. Or several. The trip that had waited this long could wait one more day. So before we set out on points south and west, we rested and recovered in Mount Airy, MD, at Rich and Teresa”s.

Snow was on the way again, so we couldn’t wait too long. But that one day was priceless.

Long ago, standing on the side of some dusty exit ramp on another journey, I realized that the freedom to travel, at least for me, comes part and parcel with having an umbilical cord that connects me to a home. We are free, emotionally, to make this trip with our kids because we rest in the certain knowledge that if we fall, we will land in a safety net of love that extends further than we can ever drive, or sail, or walk.

As the magician Terry Evanswood said during his WonderWorks Magic Show last night in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, realizing how blessed we are is the real magic.  We left a house in Eldersburg last week.  We will always have a home.

This week we are in eastern Tennessee, at the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains.  Suggestions, anyone?

Next, we discover Pigeon Forge, and the teacher learns valuable lessons while road schooling.

 

Packing, sale

TEN MINUTES TO SPARE

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It is Saturday morning, day One. Every bone in my body is singing in protest, but gosh, what a great night’s sleep. This has been a week to remember—a tumultuous, relentless, exhausting, exhilarating, disappointing, sad week. We all feel like we got our money’s worth.

I think Jen and I decided at some point to keep things as normal as possible with the kids for as long as possible, so they went to school right up until Thursday, even though our home closing was yesterday, Friday, at nine am. Jen and I went to our jobs on Monday, the day the pod arrived. When I opened it, my heart sank. Even less room than I remembered.  And three days to go.

What followed for the next four days is a blur. Disassembling trampolines and basketball backboards and soccer goals; tearful hugs from neighbors and promises to write; a revolving door of early morning landfill runs and late-night goodwill drop-offs; farming out cats and lawn furniture; on the spot giveaways; and always, always, more piles materializing in the garage.

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Jen and I by Thursday morning were poster children for the Walking Dead. Shuffling out into the garage with one of a thousand items formerly referred to as miscellaneous. Our three boys retreated into a sulky, wounded place. Their faces mocked our decision of a sunny Mother’s Day morning so many months ago.

And in the end, the house was empty and forlorn and the motorhome was overpacked, ten minutes to spare. Ten minutes to remind myself that we are always, always being taken care of. Even when we forget. Ten minutes to say thanks, at all that has been, and yes, to all that will be.

Ten minutes to be grateful, beyond words, for the help of Bill and Alice, Cheryle and Eddie, Rich and Teresa, Eileen and Bill, Dave and Lori, and Theresa and all our family and friends who not only helped us realize our dream, but just made it so deeply painful to leave our home and town.

Once in Florida back in the day, I found myself in a chat with Jimmy, a guy in Bow Channel campground. I said I had to get home to an ECHO reunion, but hated leaving Florida.

“But don’t you know?” he said, “The best time to leave is when things are at their best. It makes me want to return, again and again.” If Jimmy was right, then we couldn’t have picked a better time to leave. Thanks, to all our wonderful neighbors and friends, and family.

Now, please join us on our travels. First stop, Mount Airy, Maryland!

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The Cousins’ Sleepovers

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IMG_1004If my kids have a favorite way to spend their time, it’s not xBox, youtube, or other forms of electronics. It’s—you guessed it—cousins’ sleepovers. My kids have lots of cousins. That’s because, in part, I have lots of siblings. In another blog I comment on my parents’ strict adherence to the Catholic Church’s stand on contraception: just say no! Being the oldest of eight was a hoot, and we all loved coming from a large family—well, liked it.  But none of us chose to try to duplicate my parents’ feat.

Only two of us have three kids, five of us have two kids, and one has none. That’s still makes 16 first cousins on my side. And, of course, one additional from Jen’s side. Go, Stella!

I am not sure why my kids love being with their cousins more than other kids they know. Maybe it’s the continuity. Maybe it’s the safety. Maybe it’s the logistics. Maybe I should ask them. And the coolest thing is that my siblings’ kids are having kids! Eight so far, and one in the oven! A girl, we hear.

Just as so many other clues exist for the end of an era, I suppose the children of my children will have much smaller sleepovers. We had so many at our final party in Eldersburg a week or so ago that we had to do the hot tub in two different shifts.

While more than a dozen kids at a sleepover might seem like parental-unit insanity, we’ve always enjoyed how much our kids are excited about it. It’s what they ask for when their birthdays are coming up. Or Christmas.  Is there a greater gift than family?

One of the many things we will miss about uprooting from a place we are so very content. My brother Mike says the cool thing about living far away is that, while you may miss family gatherings, when he does see family, it is usually for a week at a time.  I guess that’s a consolation.  Time will tell.

 

People

A Jewel in Altamont

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Yesterday my brother Dave, his son James, and I were driving across Illinois, bringing the motorhome from Boise, ID. We all agreed we’d like to try something non-chainlike. The GPS suggested a place called The Railroad Street Coffee Shop, on 120 Main Street in Altamont, Illinois. We happily drove past a McDonald’s, a Subway, and a few other chain shops, and into Altamont proper, past the playground and the quiet residences of the bucolic town, named from the Latin for City of Plain, and originally a part of Mound Township.

According to Wikipedia, William Henry Perrin wrote in 1883: “The name of Mound Township was bestowed upon it in consequence of what is known as the neighborhood of Blue Mound… [where] recently, the Government has erected a signal observatory upon it, some seventy-five to one hundred feet in height, from the top of which one may look across the States of Missouri and Arkansas and see the cowboys watching their herds on the prairies of Texas.”

We missed the cowboys yesterday, but found a cook’s mess that would have warmed a hungry cowpoke’s heart. When you walk in the door of the Open Door Diner (under new name and management, GPS!), the first thing that confronts you is the Wall of Shame, a vast poster board of those unfortunates who were bested by Gramps Challenge, an intimidating breakfast heap if ever one was concocted. A sampling of the epitaphs: Bigger shovels just fill the hole faster!! On the up side, I have breakfast for the week.  As of yesterday, four noble souls had conquered the Gramps Challenge, and lived to achieve a Certificate of Achievement.

The rules are simple:  You have 30 minutes. No trips to the bathroom. No help. No regurgitation (that would be messy). With roughly 700 miles to go before the trip was complete, we were not even tempted. But I did sample a concoction called Cooks Garbage Can.  It was huge, and heavenly.

Vennia and James are the husband-wife team that have owned and operated The Open Door Diner for the last three years. Yesterday, Vennia waited tables while James tended the grill. Their daughters also work there, and family members support missions to Cuba, Panama, and other far flung locations in support of their church.

In our haste to get from Point A to Point B with the minimum of fuss, we are losing something vital: experiencing the small Vennia-and-James establishments. Mom and Pop, who, while they understand the need to make a buck, also will whimsically concoct a creation that is a wonderful culinary grab bag, and who invest their lives into their work, their community, and their world.

Tonight is the gala fundraiser for the next mission effort coming up. Give generously, and trust me: Don’t be afraid to order anything on the menu at the Open Door Diner on Main Street, Altamont. And allow yourself enough time to gab with the proprietors. You’ll be glad you did.

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Posting as it Happens…

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So here’s what’s exciting to me about blogging. Talking about issues that are real and unresolved, as I write. I have been tempted to not post at all, since we have waited almost a week now for our VA appraisal on the house we’re moving out of. If the appraisal is less than our asking price, it could wreck the contract we have in place, which could wreck the sale, which  could wreck the trip we’ve been talking up for awhile. Or at least shorten it considerably.

It is easy under the circumstances to rationalize that I should just wait and see how everything plays out. If it turns out to be a non-issue, won’t I feel a little silly in our next post? Maybe, but this has been a lot of what preparing for the trip has been about. Many moving pieces, some of a size that they could simply squash the plan altogether.

So cross your fingers too. We are inside 30 days of lift off, and so far, things have been working out amazingly well. I will continue to write my obscure books, and teach online. Jen, my wife, has a fulltime telecommuting job that she’ll continue on the road, and all the way to Florida! I am also the principal of our one-room rolling schoolhouse, and am in charge of reading and riting and rithmetic. Hopefully I can stay one lesson ahead of our young scholars.

We are also looking forward, very much, to seeing family we’ve not seen in a long time, and…well, there you have it!The appraisal unofficially looks good. We are closing in on very few reasons not to do this adventure.  The plan now is to hand over the keys at closing on Friday, March 14,and become officially, and happily, homeless.

This is the kind of stuff I do that drives Jen crazy: each year that we go to the Saint Patrick’s Day parade in Washington, DC, I think how cool it would be to do a family float.  Since the parade is only two days after closing, I signed us up. Told them that we’d have a motorhome, about 20 adults, and 25 kids doing….I don’t know what. Any ideas?  Jen’s already said I can do what I want, but she and the motorhome will be in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee on Sunday.

So who can bat 1.000?

sale

A Special CATegory of Downsizing

I was tempted to title this, “We May Never Pass This Way Again,” (okay, who remembers Seals and Croft. Diamond Girl? Summer Breeze? ) but I have always loved to travel, and hated goodbyes.

As we prepare the house for our departure, I realize there are parts of this small estate I’ve never really seen.  The window frame for the tiny window for the laundry room. The boomerang imbedded in a riot of bush limbs outside our bedroom.

Okay, so other things have clamored for attention. The birth of a son. Cats and dogs.

Speaking of which, we  have two delightful cats. Indoor/outdoor. cats1venus

Okay, one really charming, personable and adventurous cat, and one cat with hermit-like tendencies that fears its own shadow and would be the perfect companion on a cross-country bus trip if you love to read and sleep.  So that kind of averages out to two delightful cats.

We would love to take them in our cross-country rolling one-room schoolhouse, but our quota of incredibly irresponsible choices is maxed out for 2014. Yes, we are already taking the dog.

So we are looking to place the cats in a loving home, until we are ready in August to move to Satellite Beach, FL. We really hate to separate them.  They have their own two-story home.

Think about it, if you love cats.  If you fall in love with them, we will understand, and would just like to drop in on them now and then when we get back this way.