The start of  the series.

hiatus /hī-ā′təs/ – A gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break.

Yeah, that’s it. That’s what I’ve been on, a hiatus. I had bigger plans for the past year, we’ve actually had a very busy and exciting past year with both family and adventure! So I wanted to share. But I’ve always said to accomplish anything that you need time, money, and energy. Two of those are generally easy to come by, having all three can be fairly difficult. So for the blog, the energy has been lacking. Maybe this journey will help with that.

This year, we had even bigger plans spaced throughout the year, finishing up with a couple of major adventures this fall.

And then an unexpected thing happened.

Our family of 12 is becoming a baker’s dozen! Right in the midst of the fall finish. And in a moment, a natural adjustment of priorities has cleared the harvest time calendar and crowded the next few months with blessings, what a nice problem to have.

So as we started our trip west, we took a few days to swing north and sneak in some quality time with family.

Our first stop was Buchanan, TN to visit my sister Pat and her husband Don. They have a nice spot in the country and spring was in full swing. And it was such a treat when their daughter Sheri came up to see us as well! With what has become a tradition, we had dinner at the Stockade in Murray, KY. Locally known as the Bull, it’s a fine all-you-can-eat buffet.

And here I made a mistake. A harbinger of sorts. The weather in middle Tennessee has been very dry this spring, and there was only a slight chance of rain in the evening. As we were finishing up our meal, thunder rattled the restaurant. “Uh oh,” I thought, I left the camper door and roof vent open! A strong line of storms had swept in and we were 30 minutes away. Don hurried us home, but the squall line had outrun us before we ever left the parking lot.

On a personal note, I actually feel like I handled the stress pretty well hahaha. Not a thing I could do except to just relax and hope maybe the storm didn’t reach that far south.

But it had. And the door was facing it. Even with the screen door closed, all the cabinets and much of the interior was soaked, all the way to the far side. At first the floor didn’t look too bad, but that was because the water was running into the bathroom and pooling in front of the shower, over an inch deep. Well, I had been meaning to wipe down the interior before we left…

But there was much good news. We hadn’t set the tv up, so it was spared. Airstream had switched to a non-wood laminate subfloor the year our camper was made, so no damage there. And the new roof vent was guaranteed to ward off the rain when open, which it did admirably.

Lesson learned. Count your blessings.

After a nice visit, we headed north to Indianapolis, having avoided interstate highway the entire way so far. The expectant couple was already feathering the nest for the new arrival. They live in a big subdivision, with tight housing and parking. There are tons of kids in the neighborhood too, with a parade of school busses rolling through on schedule. Bret and Rachel’s house is pretty unique in that the back yard is up against a large pond used for runoff control, it even has a fountain! As such, they get to enjoy much wildlife around the pond throughout the year. And about once a quarter, they do a trash pickup around it to keep it looking nice and to protect the critters from all the entangling plastic and other trash. Kudos to them!

We just parked Ooo Shiny on the street (with one eye peeled for errant soccer balls until Rachel assured me that the kids were mindful) and enjoyed a couple of days of just chillin’. Walking the ‘hood, watching movies, and just plain ‘ol hanging out. Honestly, it was the most that I had slowed down in months. Such a sweet visit!

We were, at this point, undecided towards a more northerly route over to Utah, so we thought Ray Behrens Campground on Mark Twain Lake would keep our options open. Besides, it was morel mushroom hunting season, with Missouri and Illinois being prime hunting grounds…

Upon our arrival, we found our spot and Patricia started to guide me as I backed in. I heard a shout, and lo and behold, there was a blond morel literally sprouting out of the ground right beside the driveway! The first we have ever found east of the Rockies! We were so excited we didn’t even unpack. We walked the woods, looking and looking for supper!

And we didn’t find another one. We did find a severed stem, apparently the morel hunters had beat us out. And the one we did find had the top bitten out of it, probably why the morel hunters left it.

I hate morel hunters. They don’t share and they’re just full of lies, lies, lies concerning the little gems whereabouts. And then they just gloat over their full baskets. Ugg. Okay, I don’t really hate them, but I disdain them as a general rule.

Being near the Mark Twain birthplace, we wanted to check out the museum. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn were staples growing up! Losing yourself in one of Twain’s adventures as a youngster is almost like teleportation.

The museum was closed, so we set our sights on USACE campground Tuttle Creek near Manhattan, Kansas, home of Kansas State University. Backroads all the way today.

We found ourselves on Route 36 for most of the way. We began noticing silhouettes of riders on galloping horses randomly placed on hilltops along the highway. Did you know that this was part of the route for the Pony Express? Do you even know what the Pony Express was? Well, dear reader, it was, according to https://www.nps.gov/poex/index.htm :

“…the west’s most direct means of east–west communication before the first transcontinental telegraph was established…”

Between Missouri and California, the express shaved communication down to an unheard of 10 days! And it was in operation for about 18 months until the telegraph was constructed.

Traveling through Seneca, KS, there was a sign pointing to the historical downtown. Should we take the side trip? Patricia says jokingly, “Why not? We might see a hand-dug well or something!” She was referring to the Big Well we had discovered last year in Greensberg, KS.

As we turned off of the Pony Express route, we now found ourselves on the Road to Oz!! How crazy is that?! Well, it is Kansas. Fortunately, we turned off before we got there. I didn’t want to go to Oz, I’m still traumatized from childhood by all the flying monkeys pulling the stuffings out of the Straw Man…

We had a nice dinner in downtown Manhattan (Kansas lol) at the Tallgrass Taphouse and snagged a couple of local brews for the journey. Stretching west the next day, we were looking to stop around Brush, Colorado at a city park for the next night, but it was going to be a long day. The park was first come, first serve, and there wasn’t the best feeling about it when I called. So we’ll see.

Rolling up through Nebraska, we were amazed at the extent of the cattle farming and grain hauling. While all of the secondary roads were is really good shape, the grain trucks doing 90mph and the heavy winds were taking a toll. We were still 100 miles from Brush when we spotted Enders SRA, located beside the eponymous reservoir.

Yeah, it’s time to take a break. There was an attendant attempting to water newly planted saplings, but he was having a go of it with the wind and dust whipping around. I pulled down to ask how to register, and he suggested I go a little further down, where the cottonwoods would better block the wind. He kept trying to show us the place on his phone, and kept apologizing for all the dust that kept covering it up! We took his advice, which added several miles of dusty, washboard road, but ended up at a nice, grassy spot creekside. The whole enterprise was a bit run down, but we had it to ourselves and around midnight the wind finally calmed itself.

The little park was surrounded by huge irrigation plots. While the entire upper midwest is under a severe fire risk, the plots use ancient water pulled from the Ogallala Aquifer.

It was good to relax! We figured we could leave early to make up the miles, but determining the next camp would have to wait, this place was isolated and there was no cell service. Which in itself was nice, we found ourselves chatting about stuff we normally wouldn’t chat about, took outside showers, and listened to the only six songs I had downloaded on my phone. The next morning we were greeted with a cacophony of mourning doves, turkey gobbles, and woodpecker discussions. And not another manmade sound.

Loading up with fresh water, we followed Route 6 all the way to I-70 at Sterling, arriving with a hint of fuel left in the gas tank.

We rolled through Colorado, stopping only for fuel and the occasional break. Colorado may be the only state where you generally cannot do the speed limit safely! Between the rough roads, potholes, construction, and oh yeah, the Rockies, I rarely kept up with the speed limit.

Strange as it may seem, we almost completely ignored the State of Colorado and traveled nearly to the Utah border from Nebraska. This was all a bit punishing, but it takes a good bit of effort to find a camping spot unless you want to be in a parking lot somewhere, especially at this time of the year. For just an overnighter, we didn’t want a high-dollar RV park. And for Colorado state parks, there’s a hefty vehicle permit fee added. Opting to avoid all the humanity, we eventually aimed for Rabbit Valley as our destination. A primitive BLM campground on the other side of Grand Junction and just a couple of miles from the Utah border.

This turned out to be a good choice and a turning point in the quest west.