06-29-09

It was another gorgeous morning after a great night sleep. It’s so peaceful here.
I got up and went for a stroll down to the river bank. I noticed what looked like wild black raspberries on the ground. I’d seen these many times in the area growing up and have often gathered and eaten them. I looked around, but there were no raspberry bushes. I looked up and saw that these berries were not raspberries they were growing on trees above the path. They looked tasty, but I’m no fool, they could be poisonous. I brought home a handful along with a leaf off of the tree, posted the picture on my facebook page and asked if anyone knew what they were.
While on my computer I saw a city truck rounding the bend heading into the campground. My heart sank a little as I remembered I hadn’t checked in, or paid for the site. I crouched down a bit as they drove toward my site…they slowly drove by, went to the cul-de-sac at the end of the campground, turned around, slowly drove up and again went by. They looked like young men who were workers, not so much anyone who might be in charge. Minutes later they came back followed by a front-end loader and two other city trucks. They all slowly drove by, not paying any attention to me and began working on a project.
Throughout the day many official looking vehicles drove into the campground, all which concerned me a bit. I realized that most of them were people in company trucks who were playing hooky from work to sneak in an hour, or so of fishing. They park in the campground and use the path behind my bus. I learned to just be calm and patient when a new truck would roll in. I figured eventually someone would stop and bust me. I didn’t really have a good answer prepared, “I just got here”, “I was just going to check in”, “I forgot”, “I wasn’t sure how long I was going to stay and figured I’d pay at the end”? There were only two other campers in the park now. I figured if I was the only one I better register, or if the park completely fills up I better. Next weekend is the Fourth of July. I’m certain it will fill up then as there is a huge celebration in Saint Peter. The Forth is Saturday. Friday I plan on driving my Jeep to Saint Paul for The Taste of Minnesota Celebration and one last goodbye from my friend Cesar. I don’t really want to leave my bus here alone, unregistered for the whole day, especially as the campground fills up for the holiday weekend. If I make it until then I’ll probably register before I go to Saint Paul.
I needed a few supplies, so I went to the grocery store that we shopped at when I was growing up. It didn’t give me any wicked flashbacks. It had been remodeled, who knows, maybe a couple of times by now. I tried to remember what it used to look like.
I was just going to go to the store and head back to the bus, but reminiscing made my curious, so I drove all over town. I saw the house I grew up in, schools, playgrounds, and businesses downtown. I drove by old friend’s houses slowly and wondered if their family’s still lived there. It was interesting how things had changed, yet once again stayed the same.
Back at the bus it was finally time to fix the leveling jack. When I hit the buttons I learned that now only one jack out of the four was functioning. No problem, I think I can fix them. Before I could get to them I noticed a facebook message from Thalia, a girl that I had known as a very small boy. Her mother used to babysit me. We had just reacquainted on facebook. I learned that she had traveled the world and was now looking to settle down a bit. Opposite of where I found myself in life, yet intriguing. I wanted to learn from her experiences. She was headed to a local bar for a few drinks. I remembered seeing a sign on my drive, “1/2 price Pints of Guinness 3-6pm”. That sounded perfect, so we met at Patrick’s.
When I walked in I recognized her right away. She is Hispanic with long flowing black hair and now covered in gorgeous, colorful tattoos, very intriguing. When we were little she was always more mischievous than me and it appeared that things were still the same. She had red streaks in her hair, beautiful lips and a perfect, almost fake smile. I was going to get a Guinness, she asked if I had ever had a Black and Tan. I never had, but had been curious in the past, so I thought, “No time like the present”. We got our drinks, went out on the patio and sat with her friend JR. The conversation was really fun and it was great to chat with her after all these years. I had a couple of Guinness’ after the Black and Tan. After a couple of hours, they had to go. Slightly buzzed I headed back to the park which was only about three blocks away. While walking home I was thinking about the tab. Hers had several “Taps” on it. I assumed they had put my beers on her bill, so I just paid it. It was only like $15 and that didn’t add up. I think I paid her tab and completely walked out on mine inadvertently. Buzzed and feeling good I kind of wanted to go back later for “Chicken Wing Night”, or their “World’s Best Burger”. Either I could go back and settle up, go back, ignore the situation and see if they remembered me, or never go back.
As I approached the bus I saw smoke and was surprised to see that the big log was still smoldering away in the fire pit. It was about two feet long now instead of three.
I’m always nervous when I leave the bus unattended while not checked in. There was no note on the door, or any sign of anything unusual.
I decided to just stay in that night and try to look up old friends.

06-28-09

I woke up from a good night sleep feeling content and well rested for the first time in weeks. It had been humid lately, but last night was cool and breezy, perfect sleeping weather. Throughout the night I could hear the river, an occasional train horn and the leaves of the trees rustling in the breeze. In the morning I opened my eyes to find myself in my bed, in my bedroom, yet I knew I was parked in a new place. I peeked out of my window to see that although I was in the shade under a think canopy of trees, in the distance it was a gorgeous sunny morning. I made an excellent cup of coffee in my French press and took it and my camera outside to explore.
It’s my plan to photograph each place I stay and this was an easy place to make look good. The Minnesota River is fifty feet down a path right in back of my bus. There is a huge sand bar with people fishing. The river bends and in the near distance connecting the towering trees of the bank of Nicollet County to the towering trees of Lesuer County is a massive old steel girder highway bridge. I took some pictures and headed back up the path to the bus. I hiked all over the park taking snap shots and relearning the lay of the land. I remembered fishing there is a child and causing trouble there as a teenager. I was flooded with memories. It’s seems horrific now, but I remember catching small sunfish, then we’d pop one of their eyes out with a buck knife, put them back in the water and watch them swim in circles. I remember skateboarding there as a teenager and later cruising in our cars. Everything’s changed, yet it is exactly the same.
I found the RV sewer dumping station. There was no water fill station, but the dumping station had a garden hose that was cut at one end for rinsing. I check to see if I could unscrew it at the nozzle and it unscrewed easily like people often did it. I figured I could put my hose on it and fill my tank from there. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to, or even if the water was potable, but even though it was an old pump handle it must be city water. I opened the pump handle and the water that flowed seemed very clean…it must be city water. I went back to the bus and got it ready for the short trip to the dumping station. It was a quiet Sunday morning, I figured it was a good time to do it. The dump and fill went well. I was happy to have a full tank of hopefully fresh water. As I pulled back into the camping area I realized that I was already in what I considered to be the best spot. It had the path to the sand bar and a fairly decent yard. The spots on the end seemed to be close to parking lots, boat landings, or just too public. Besides I had made it one night without paying and being in the middle was rather inconspicuous. I wondered if I could get another free night. I mean it’s Sunday, who’s gonna’ come down here and check? It’s just a city park. When I got parked and hooked up I poured myself a glass of water. It looked crystal clear. I took one sip and it tasted fine. I’ll see if I get sick from that first. I set it on the counter to settle to observe later, but was already content that it was clean city water.
Hungry from my morning romp I decided on 2 eggs over easy and a big slice of watermelon, a little protein and fruit. When I cracked the eggs into the pan they slid back and to the left. I remembered that I hadn’t yet deployed my leveling jacks. Last I knew one was stuck in the up position and I planned on attempting to fix it today. It was a problem I had successfully dealt with two times in the past. The cool part was that when I ate the eggs my yokes didn’t run all over my plate, they just drifted back and to the left which was nice. I mean you want your eggs to run into toast, or maybe sausage, but not watermelon. True art is never perfectly balanced.
Before I get to the leveling jacks, what’s up with the TV antenna? I slipped the bracket over the metal stub into the hole in the ceiling. It had an arrow on it and as I turned it to line up with the arrow on the ceiling I felt and heard the whole antenna turn off the roof. I gave me an uneasy feeling like the whole thing was breaking off. Then I realized, it’s supposed to rotate you dummy. Then it all made sense. I was able to put the pieces back in place and tighten a simple set screw, it seemed solid. I flipped on the TV, turned the antenna slightly and the picture was perfect. Sweet! The crank is fixed, it rotates and I now have two TV stations, CBS and FOX out of Mankato, Minnesota. I much prefer PBS, The History Channel, or The Food Network, but all I need is that familiar glow in the background to keep me company. Again, I really should be getting used to no TV.
Happy, I fired up my laptop to chat with friends. Breaking news! TV pitch man Billy Mays was found dead. Michael Jackson had suddenly died just days before and I had sent out a text to everyone I knew trying to be the first one to break the news. I guess it’s a side-effect of being on the radio for all those years. I know that if you’re the one to tell someone one of those “you’ll always remember where you were when you heard…” moments that I’d live in their memories forever. Billy Mays was not that big of story, but it was a shocker. I thought it would be fun to send another mass text, like I was the death watch master or something. I figured it’s Sunday afternoon, who’s watching the news, I bet I can get the scoop. Sure enough my phone went nuts with all sorts of responses. Everything from, “who’s that?” to “what are you the grim reaper?” Before I knew it my afternoon had slipped away. I was reassured that my digital relationships were strong and sustaining me. Soon they’d be all I had. I guess the leveling jacks will have to wait. That’s okay I had learned there are benefits from leaning back and to the left. It was time to go to my mom and dad’s for supper.
Before I left I noticed that most of the campground had cleared out, so I searched through the abandoned site’s fire pits for left over fire wood. Most were completely empty. I got a few small, almost completely burnt up logs from one which I figured would at least help start a fire. Besides I had no wood and anything is better than nothing. One fire pit had a huge log sticking out of it that was still smoldering. Jackpot! This thing could burn for awhile. I didn’t really want it pre-lit as I was leaving and wasn’t sure if, or when I’d even have a fire. The end sticking out of the pit was not smoldering, so I grabbed it and dragged it through the sand and gravel avoiding grass, or anything that might start on fire. As I dragged it toward my empty fire pit the smoldering end gouged through the dirt, started to smoke more and started on fire. I dragged the burning log into my fire pit. I wanted to put it out, but didn’t want to completely soak it with water because I eventually wanted to relight it. I put a little water on it and kicked dirt on it. It was mostly out, but still smoking ever so slightly. I figured it was safe in the pit, so I headed to my parents house.
Being home felt good. They had lived there for seventeen years, so it was place I had been often, full of wonderful memories. The last time I was there I was flooded with sad “this is the last time” type of emotions, but now that I’d begun my journey it felt somehow fresh and clean and once again like home, not just a place of memories gone by. Dad and I looked at some maps, reflected on when we drove through the Bear Tooth Pass in Montana in our little Honda when I was a kid. He commented then and reiterated how the RV drivers were coming down the mountain with “white knuckles”. After studying the map I was able to rationalize that the distance and time wasn’t that much more to go that route. All that was left to keep me from doing it was making the crazy decision to take my bus, with my Jeep in tow through the hair-pin curves. It was a decision I’d make later, but I chuckled nervously because I knew ultimately I’d decide go. Mom made meatloaf and baked potatoes. Over the years I had mastered my own meatloaf recipe, but nothing is ever quite as good and comforting as mom’s. I probably hadn’t had it in a decade. It made me feel so at ease and content. I longed for another good night sleep by the river. I drove to the bus, relaxed with a glass of wine and drifted off to sleep with the company of network TV...Wait, shouldn’t I have checked in at the campground? Oh well, if I make it through another night that’s another twenty bucks.

06-27-09

The last several days have been hard. I’ve been saying “goodbye” to close friends. For awhile each “goodbye” made me want to break down and cry as I was thinking, “this is the last time I will ever see this person ever again”. Ironically the goodbye process made me realize how many good friends I have in Rochester and I decided that I DID want to come back someday. Then I was able to stop the whole “goodbye forever” mentality and tell them, “I’ll see you again someday”. That helped, but after living there for 16 years it was still hard. I find myself seeing memories on every street corner. Sometimes it’s rather pathetic. I was eating my favorite cheese burger at Famous Dave’s and I caught myself thinking, “this is the last time I’ll ever eat here”. Oh boo hoo, woe is me. I’m such an emotional, dramatic wus sometimes. I’ve been planning on leaving for roughly a year. I realized the problem was that I was living in the past. “Once I leave I’ll be better”, I thought.
Melanie’s mom and sister, my ex-in-laws, whom I still love very much stopped by for one last hug. I’ve had so many fun times with them over the years that they really are family. Melanie’s mom told me she loved me. Fighting back tears I said, “I love you too”, but told her that I would see them again. We promised to keep in touch and I think we will.
I got the bus ready to hit the road and waited for my long time friends Cesar and Becky to stop by for one last beer. They were late as usual, but when they got there and we started to B.S. about Michael Jackson dying and what good concerts we’re coming up, I felt at home and didn’t care that I was falling behind schedule. Besides I have absolutely no plans, or appointments. I’m totally free.
When they left I hooked up the Jeep and headed for Saint Peter, Mn where I had lived since I was born until I was eighteen.
The hour and a half drive went by fairly quickly. I’ve made the drive hundreds of times, but decided to go a slightly different route worried that my emotions might get the best of me. You know the whole “last time” thing. I stopped in Owatonna to check on my Jeep since it was the first time I’d towed it any distance. I pulled into a parking lot, put ‘er in neutral, popped out the parking brake knob and stood up out of the driver’s seat. To my amazement I was standing in my living room. I went to the bathroom, grabbed a snack in the kitchen, washed my hands and thought, “this is so cool, this is my home, just like I’m used to”. I sat down and drove away.
When I was able to deviate from the route that I usually took to my parents house I finally felt like I had left Rochester behind. I pulled into Saint Peter and went to the Mill Pond, a place I had been many times throughout every age of my youth. I remembered there had been some camping spots there, but my memories were fuzzy. Sure enough there were 11 sites. The sign said “$20 dollars a night, check in at the public works building”, which is also the police department located at the entrance of the park. “I’ll check in after I’m settled in”, I thought. It was Saturday night and most spots were taken. There were campfires burning, radios playing and people seemed to be lurking in the shadows. I picked what looked to be the best of the open spaces and in front of on-lookers backed in like a pro. It felt good to know what I was doing from recently getting my commercial driver’s license at truck driving school.
When I got up out of the seat I noticed that the cupboard had opened and my bottle of dish soap and a liter of Canadian Whiskey that my friend Youry had given me we’re laying on the kitchen floor. “That could have been bad” I thought. When I picked up the whiskey bottle I was immediately shocked that it was way too light. It was empty. The glass didn’t break, but the top of the plastic cap had broken off. “Sad, that was such a nice gift”, I thought. It felt great to still be friends with Youry. We dated years ago. Plus I was really looking forward to relaxing at the end of day one of my journey with a drink. There was still about an inch of whiskey in the bottle, so I set it on the counter and tried to comprehend that virtually a whole liter of whiskey had soaked somewhere into my floor. I felt around and only found a wet spot about twelve inches by four inches on the carpet next to the hard wood kitchen floor. That’s when I noticed the smell. “Good thing I didn’t get pulled over” I thought. I put a towel on it and put some heavy phone books on that, an old trick I learned as a teenager when someone would spill booze on their parent’s carpet. You just leave it for a couple of hours, most of the liquid will absorb into the towel. Old ladies will tell you to “blot, don’t rub” a stain. What they really mean is “absorb”. It works.
I went outside to hook up the utilities. There was electricity, but that was it. I was used to that, plus city water, sewer and TV cable. I knew there’d be no cable, but was caught off guard by the city water. I knew there was a sewer dumping station on the campground, but wasn’t sure where I would be able to fill my fresh water tank. I had filled up a little before I left, but not much. Lesson learned; fill up your fresh water tank before you leave. I was mildly agitated because I needed a shower, yet remained optimistic. “No problem, I can find water tomorrow” I thought.
Time to try out my rooftop TV antenna and digital TVs. I cranked up the antenna with the hand crank on the ceiling, turned on the TV and hit scan. It only found two channels which is what I expected. When I looked at the TV the signal was not watchable. Sometimes I’d found that the reception can be improved by cranking up, or down the antenna slightly. I started to try to fine tune it this way. It was never good, but kind of got better, so I continued to adjust when the crank fell off of the ceiling in my hand, followed by the bracket which it was inserted into. “Okay…no big deal…I can always turn the remaining metal stub with pliers if I have to. If I’m gonna rough it I better get used to no TV.
I just had splurged on an air card, so I fired up my laptop. I quickly felt my mild agitation slip away with the comfort of my email and facebook friends. I’m relying heavily on my laptop to keep me from going mad from loneliness on the road. The air card worked great and I was very happy I had gotten it.
Feeling settled in and wanting to relax I headed to the liquor store to replace my bottle of whiskey. At the store I decided to take the loss of whiskey as a sign that maybe I shouldn’t drink so much. I got wine instead.
I returned to the bus, put on a Family Guy DVD for familiar TV background, chatted on my computer and went to bed. As I drifted off to sleep I thought, “shouldn’t I have checked in? oh well, if they don’t notice me tonight I can check in tomorrow and save twenty bucks”.