This is the front of Devil's Backbone Brewing Company. Part of the Brew Ridge Trail. THE BREW RIDGE TRAIL - MORE BREWERIES THAN STOP LIGHTS. The Brew Ridge Trail celebrates the craft beer industry in Nelson and Albemarle Counties. The five breweries and two cideries that comprise the Trail offer award winning beer in unique and scenic settings.

As we continued our trek down the less-traveled highway, we found several more breweries and brewpubs. Come to find out they are associated with the Brew Ridge Trail. And along this highway were also several wineries and vineyards. We plan on taking our time the next time we go through there, maybe stay a few days :)

This shoe, #430, was taken when my camera was still attached to my dashboard and we were sitting at light. The bottom photo was taken up on the mountain at Wintergreen Ski Resort in Virginia

The drive to Cincinnati from Pensacola went really well. We stopped over at our friend Kevin’s home on Signal Mountain outside Chattanooga, TN and slept in his driveway for the night before heading out early in the a.m. I did have a little worry about our accommodations in Cincinnati for a bit that about made me have a panic attack, but we got that straightened out thankfully.

We were once again shacked up at Trish’s place for the duration of the holiday stay. Trish also allows me to let my mother stay as well so I can see her more and she can have more time around Nora. But the problem is, Nora does not like to spend time around her. Nora is not fond of old people, she just doesn’t trust them. We think it stems back to when she was very little and the old asian women working at the Chinese buffets would always try to pick her up and should would scream for mommy and daddy to help her. She literally would say “Help Me!” It was fairly humorous at the time but it has made it difficult for both grandmothers to connect with her.

And it really did not help that my mom had contracted a staff infection and a nasty bout of cellulitis under her right eye, causing it to acutely swell and discolor. Plus her eyesight has deteriorated quite a bit over the last few years causing her to walk like a zombie with her arms out and fumbling over things. Hell Sharon and I were even a little scared to get too close. My mom, bless her heart, never did give up to Nora’s dismay. She was determined to hold her, but Nora was having none of that as she kept her distance, always aware of where Grandma Marge was lurking.

Oh yeah, did I mention we came at a time when Trish’s heat was not working. Luckily we come prepared with space heaters. Also good thing it was a mild winter so far!

We took a day to go to a Christmas event that Trish’s YMCA, which she is the executive director of, was throwing for the community. There was craft-making, treats, hot cocoa, caroling and a tree lighting. Even a 30 year santa with a terrible fake white beard was there to complete the event.

The gym was where the crafts were being created and while in there I saw the climbing rope. I had not climbed one since in grade school probably and wondered if I could still do it. I mentioned it to Trish and she told me of a guy that was well over 60 doing it just the other day. I figured I could still do it then. She scoffed at me when I told her…it was game on! I looked at the height for a few seconds and then turned to her and excliamed ” I bet I can do it in under a minute!”

She chuckled and then said once the gym clears out I can try it. She did not think I could do it. And once time came to climb, I too was a little bit hesitant. But I am a good climber, always have been, so I figured I would still be the same monkey I used be so I grabbed the rope and told Trish to time me. She said go and off I went. Hand over hand, and pushing myself with my feet. I was actually going faster than I thought I would. I reached the top, and she informed me I did it in under 15 seconds. I felt so vindicated! I began sliding back done and kinda lost control and burned my hands a bit, but it was worth it. I didnt even need to be triple-dog-dared.

When we got back to Trish’s we noticed Nora was starting to show signs of getting a cold. Not good. Traveling with a sick two-year-old is not good at all. But par for the course with us. A road trip isn’t good without some adversity right? :)

When I lived in Cincinnati I played a lot of sand volleyball during my adult years. I had learned of an indoor sand volleyball complex, Grand Sands, just a mile or so from where I grew up and got with a friend of mine who still plays and we decided to meet up and play. Unfortunately he is just as unreliable as he was when he was 16. Luckily though, I knew several other players there and got in some great games. It some getting used to the ceiling and florescent lights compared to a sky and sun, and walls instead of sand dunes. It was great to be able to get some playing in though, when it was so cold and rainy outside.

My brother Doug always invites us over for a wonderful dinner that he skillfully prepares for us. He takes great pride in what he creates and he has always come through. This evening he was to create homemade pasta and a sauce along with many other sides. But it was the homemade pasta that was to be his centerpiece. We had sat down to eat and a well-prepared salad was passed around as the first course. While eating it, I heard many strange noises coming from the kitchen. I also noticed Trish was staring into the china cabinet pretty intensely.

Come to find out she was looking into the mirror in the back of it, watching my brother work frantically in the kitchen. After about 30 minutes or more we started to ask Doug if he needed any help. The kitchen was a disaster area and he had pasta shrapnel all over him, and was “bloody” from the pasta sauce. It looked like a roadside bomb went off next to an italian eatery! The pasta he created looked like 5 pounds of spaghetti molded into the shape of loaf of bread.

He then looked at us and asked “So what do you guys want on your pizza, I give up.”

We still had a fun time there, catching up on what new is going on and also reminiscing about old times. It was mostly about them seeing Nora anyway and she was quite sweet the whole night despite having her nose run constantly.

The infection on my mom’s eye was not going to go away on its own, I am sure the eye would pop out in a few days if she let it go on any further so the following day we took her to the doctor for medication. We were all hoping for a miracle but the infection was pretty bad and never really went down until the day we were to drop her back off.

It is always something with my mom. Last time we came home to Cincinnati it was the incident with the Clairol. One evening my mom attempted to color her own hair in Trish bathroom sink with Clairol and splashed color everywhere. However being partially blind did not notice so she just walked out. Dripping color the whole way down the steps to the living room. Trish walked into what she described as massacre looking crime scene, only somewhat relived it was not blood as she still had to try and clean it up. Which I guess hair color stains pretty bad in a white bathroom. Trish was calling for me to go grab my mom before she sat back on the couch. I went into the bathroom to find Trish on her knees frantically scrubbing the tile and walls. I torn down the steps to just catch my mom from lying her head on a couch pillow. I helped her get a towel all around her hair and eventually washed it out of her hair in the kitchen sink with sprayer. Trish and I still crack up about the follies of that night.

Over the course of a few days we did manage to get to see quite a few friends. The days passed quickly and it was time to depart. We loaded the van and went to our friends the Costello’s before heading out to West Virginia. We left out at 11:00pm and I stopped driving about an hour past Charleston at about 3:30 am. I was tired. But I was on a mission to get Nora to see snow for her first time and knew we were tight on time and rose back up to carry on driving at around 6:30am. Our destination for snow was Wintergreen Ski Resort in Virginia just off the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The drive to get up to the resort was pretty extreme with a 15% grade hill that meandered for around 5 miles up. The van trudged along slowly but it was going strong. Upon getting to the top we were rewarded with several areas with manmade snow where we could go play with Nora for a bit. Keep in mind Nora is a Florida girl through and through and the only experience she had with snow was the white fluffy cotton they used for decorating around the mall. She was cold, and was not fond of the snow. Her only remark was “Its icy.” I made a miniature snowman for her and we took pictures of her in the snow and got back into a heated place so her cold would not worsen. The drive down was white-knuckled. I kept the van in low gear and surprisingly the brakes did not heat up much.

We stopped just a bit after getting down the mountain at a Brew Pub along the Brewridge trail (see this review for more info)

It took us another 6 hours to arrive at Deal Island where we were to spend Christmas. That night, Nora through a five hour crying fit when it came time to go to bed, we still dont know if it was reaction to the cough syrup or what. As the syrup was an expensive natural herbal syrup with little in the way of malicious ingredients. She thrashed about and screamed that she wanted to go home. The best way I can describe it is that she was violently homesick. It broke my heart. Eventually she passed out. She has never acted that way, and did not again the rest of the trip.

The next morning she woke up sweet and told me she was sorry. I told her it was okay. But then she said. “Im sorry I hurt you, are you going to be okay?”

I told her “Daddy is fine, you didn’t hurt me.”

Sadly she answered, “I hurt your heart.”

At first I was puzzled. Then it dawned on me. She heard me say that it was breaking my heart last night, and she took it literal. It was so sweet. I just hugged her and told her that Daddy was strong and that I was just fine.

Another funny thing Nora said that really made my day was when Dave (Sharon’s pops), Nora and I were on our way back from seeing Santa. Every Christmas the local fire department on the island rides Santa, waving and passing out candy, around on a fire truck with lights and sirens blazing through the neighborhoods. So anyway, we were walking in the house and she mentioned the pretty stars. I mentioned to her that the bright one might be a planet. “That one there I think is Uranus.” I told her.

And without hesitation she looks up and then back at me and with a puzzled look says. “That’s my anus?”

Dave and I could not stop laughing. It was one of the funniest things I have ever heard. Out of the mouths of babes my mom always used to say.

Nora was finally getting over her cold and was becoming more like her sweet self just in time to head up to Baltimore to see Aunt Glenda as well as Rachie who was flying in from South Florida for New Years. Not sure how much more whining and asking to have her nose wiped every 5 seconds we could have taken :)

to be continued…

Lost Sole #426, found while participating in the "Santa Monica Road Rally", more like the daily rat race in L.A. And wouldn't you know it, a cop stopped and wanted to know what I was doing. Of all the crime going on in L.A., they take the time to stop and harass someone just taking a photo of a shoe.

It was Sean’s wedding and Skippy, Jason, Mark, Gary, Scooter, Dink, Trish, Kevin, Jeff and I all went out to L.A. for the wedding. The only true member not attending was Kramer. Getting all of us together like this, especially without any families. Except Kevin who brought his new bride out, as she had never met any of us yet and this was a great chance to meet everyone at one time.

Numerous funny stories happened that weekend, Jason getting a little tipsy and throwing up on the bus ride home from the wedding, Jason getting crapped on by a bird the next day, Mark getting so hung over he ended up in his infamous “fetal position”, Scooter doing a bang up job as the reverend while performing the wedding ceremony. We will forever recall the crazy people from L.A. and their outlandish behavior, as it was something I’ll never forget, nor will anyone else that was on that bus with them that day.

While those were all entertaining on their own merit. It was Skippy’s and I’s quest to find the Hell’s Kitchen restaurant and get a photo standing out front of it that causes me to smile every time I think of it.
The first night we got there all of us decided to go hit one of the local Marina Del Ray bars on the beach. But I couldn’t drink much as I had volunteered to go pick up Dink and Skippy from the airport. We went straight back to the hotel as everyone had already gotten back from the bar and it was getting late. We sat around for a bit but everyone was pretty wiped out from traveling. But not Skippy or I. I mean we were in L.A. and had no wives, no kids and no curfew. We were ready to explore. But where do we go at 1:30 a.m.?

Skippy was hungry as he never had dinner, and he wanted pizza. So we thought the best chance to find a pizza place open at this time of night would be on Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood.

Armed with a rental car a GPS we set out. Sunset Blvd. was actually quite easy to find. We enjoyed cruising through Bel Air and Beverly Hills. Seeing all the famous roads and landmarks.

It reminded me of when we were 16. We would buy root beers and a bag of Doritos and jump into Skippy’s little Honda Civic to drive around downtown Cincinnati late at night. Skippy had a police scanner at the time and we would listen for any action, fires or crimes, and go check them out.

And driving around town was always a blast. Skippy is quite the comedian and would always have me rolling. It was so much fun to feel so young and free.

I felt that way again with him as he does his impression of a large black woman as a fire dept. dispatchersending a truck to a four alarm fire on the corner of “Baskeweeben and Winesty” (AKA Basketweaving and Glen Este:). It was hilarious, and I really think he needs to record it. It wasn’t racist; it was just really funny and clever. The way he weaved all the little details and nuances into the skit was brilliant.

Once we did get to the main strip of bars we parked and headed out on foot. We strolled by the famous Whiskey a Go-Go, and Viper Room. They were both closed for the night but it was just cool to be where so many headline-making stories took place.

We stumbled upon a small pizza joint that had beer and was still serving! The pizza was by the slice and very large slices at that. Along the walls were autographed messages by numerous celebrities. Demi Moore was the most famous that I could see from our table. That hit the spot.

Now to find a bar that was still open might be a challenge.

The one we chose to check out was a wild little place called the rainbow room. It was a large place but sectioned off into several tiny spaces, which were too crowded for our liking. It was really interesting though, and the people watching was top notch. There were people from all walks of life there, from Yuppies, to Punk Rockers, to Goth, to Hippies.

We did stop for a second to watch a sort of bizarre performace. It was a female led band tucked away in a room the size of a bedroom. Seriosuly, the bar was an old house at one point and I think that room was previously used for a bedroom. About 5 people, 3 of whom were photographers, were able to fit in the room with all the drums and band members. They were really good but since we never made it through the door and it was not prime for hanging out for long.

It was now approaching 3 a.m. and nowhere else was serving beer so we called it a night and began heading home. On the drive we discussed that we wanted to get a picture together by something famous that we both liked. We decided on finding Gordon Ramsey’s Hell’s Kitchen, the restaurant that they filmed the L.A. seasons of the TV reality show at. It would have to wait until tomorrow as the need for sleep was overtaking our adrenaline from earlier.

The next day after breakfast we got online to see where the exact location of the restaurant. To our dismay there were three listed but it was hard to make out which was the actual restaurant. And we did not find where someone had actually been to one to verify its whereabouts. So we just started we the first address we found.

It was a bust, it was just a small warehouse, not sure what role it had played, but it was not what we were looking for. Good thing was, it had been only 10 minutes from the hotel. No big deal. The wedding was that afternoon and we had no more time to explore and would have to resume the search the next day.

The wedding had many stories played out but will wait for another time to be recounted. That next day after walking the boardwalk again and hanging at the beach and bars most of the night it was time for friends to part. I took Mark, and Dink to the airport in the early afternoon. My flight did not go out until 1:30 a.m. and I volunteered Skippy to take me early, as I wanted to resume our search. Not so much as to really find it, but it gave us a purpose to our wondering. It was just fun to hang out together and spend time.

I plugged the next address on the list and we were off. Another bust. While it was on a studio property, it looked just like some storage warehouses again. For sure the next destination would be where it was located.

Hell’s Kitchen never surfaced at that location either; curiously enough it was another set of warehouses. Could the restaurant be just a stage trick? On screen it looked like a major restaurant on a bustling street in L.A. But this was Hollywood, where nothing is actually real.

Skippy also wanted to see Mann’s Chinese Theater and the Walk of Fame. It was so crowded that we never stopped the car to get out. I think we were Hollywood-ed out at that point.

Now I noticed we were running a little late for flight, I wanted to get there with an hour to spare and we were cutting it close. But thanks to some road rally-esque driving down blvd, we made it on time. And I know it was crazy because it was even making Skippy nervous the way traffic was moving. I really wasn’t doing it on my own; I was merely keeping up with the flow and trying not to be run over! What was funny, was that Skippy was acrtually nervous. The guy who, while having his Toyota 4×4 truck loaded with people hanging off everywhere, would go zooming down the streets, in and out of parking lots, on medians, shoulders, all with the theme from Beverly Hills cop blaring on his radio and his volunteer fire department sirens roaring. I can still hear the music…”Shakedown, breakdown, takedown. Everybody wants into the crowded light. Breakdown, takedown, your busted …”

This was taken at Sean's wedding. Skippy is the one front and center with the teal shirt. Their were 2 guys missing from the sot, Kevin and Sean as they were probably off spooning somewhere *LOL*

When I finally got on the ground and saw Nora and Sharon I was so happy. Nora ran to me yelling “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” It just made my heart melt. Time goes by so quickly. Thank goodness for friends and family to make that time a good one.

This is one of the only pics we took that day and what cracks me up is how much fun it looks like we had if you didnt know the back story about Sharons wet shoes drying to my right by the fire from crossing a river to see a tunnel

We woke up and got the Ark ready for departure and headed out of Charleston to Seneca State Forest. Things were going great for the first hour or so, then we got side tracked and the fun began.

I did not realize we were going to be going by the New RIver Gorge until I saw a sign for it. It had been years since I have driven up this way. I was excited to show Sharon the bridge as it is a monster arch bridge over the gorge where one day each year it is shut down for Bridge Day, a day where base jumping is allowed off the bridge.

Just on the other side of the bridge was a welcome center with a scenic overlook. We decided to stop and get out of the van to stretch for a minute and check out the view, which turned out to be pretty incredible as it was a very clear day and we were able to see the class V whitewater New River flowing at the bottom.

While in the welcome center we got the idea to take the scenic route down into the gorge on route 82. We could eat lunch down in the gorge and get a closer look at the river. It was 11:30 at this point so timing was perfect since I had an important conference call at 1:00. 30 minutes down into the gorge, 30 minutes to eat and then 30 minutes back to the welcome center where I knew had cell service as that can be a tough thing to find in the mountains of West Virginia.

However what I did not plan on was taking the wrong turn out of the Welcome Center. I realized it pretty quick and was going to turn around, but from looking at the map I was certain that road I was on connected with 82. What I did not realize is there are two route 82’s. One is a scenic route the other a normal route. And we apparently got on the other route. Now I admit I am still not sure if that is correct, but that is the only explanation for why there were route 82 signs on this road and even my GPS confirmed we were on route 82. But we were for sure not on whatever road was to be the scenic route to the gorge.

We winded around and down a narrow road descending deeper and deeper to the river but none of the landmarks were matching up to the guide we had grabbed at the center. We knew we had gone the wrong way for sure when we were at the bottom and the road headed south instead of north like it should according to the map. It was time to turn around and cut our losses.

Had we been in a normal vehicle and not an older, over-sized camper van it would not have been a problem, but I worried about the strain the steep long climb back out would be on the engine. Already coming down I could smell the heating of the brake pads as they labored to slow the heavy van from speeding out of control. I was pretty stressed.

Surprisingly the Ark grinded its way to the top without a problem. The problem was that we did not realize the road we came down was one-way at some points so we had to take another route out, and those roads were too small to be found on our atlas. And our GPS we use is my Droid X phone which requires cell service to update the maps, and there were zero bars. I was now at the point of having to rely on the compass and my view of the top to know which way to head.

I was now getting stressed to a breaking point. There is nothing I hate more than being lost and burning gas for no reason. After a couple of turnarounds from wandering down the wrong way because the road we were traveling suddenly turned a 180 degrees in the wrong direction, we finally made our way to the top and got cell service so my GPS could show me a way out. We emerged around 11:45 from the maze of small mountain roads to the main highway about 15 miles from the welcome center, but at least in the direction of our final destination of Seneca State Forest.

But now I had a dilemna. Do I take off and head to Seneca State Forest? Or do I back track 20 minutes to the Welcome Center and eat lunch and hang out for an hour where I know for sure I can do my conference call? To add to it, Nora had fallen asleep so that meant she would be awake for the 2 hour drive to the forest if we went back, and that can make for a rough drive.

I decided to chance heading onward. I knew there was a town that would probably have cell phone service on our way that we would reach at just around 1:00. It would be close, but I was confident we could do it. This turned out to be one of the only correct decisions I would make that day :) And while I did make it to cell coverage in time and called in, the client was not there. I waited for 15 minutes on the line with another colleague and upon mutual agreement we cut the call off. I figured I would call her when I reached the next town of Marlinton in an hour or so, and off we went.

Arriving just before running out of gas at Marlinton, I was greeted with no cell phone service yet again. I did not expect that as Marlinton is at the base of Snowshoe Mountain Resort, a popular recreation hub for skiing and mountain biking. It was late in the afternoon on the friday before the 4th of July weekend so I hoped my client had already called it a day and it would not be an issue. Because I knew if there was no service here, there was no way we had service at the forest which was still 30 minutes deeper into the wilderness, putting our arrival at our destination around 4:00. 2 hours later than I had anticipated.

I was correct. We turned into the forest campground and there was no service, just like there had not been for the last 2 hours. The campground is located in a deep wooded hollow that was already looking dark 4 hours before sunset from the thick canopy of trees and steep mountain sides that were so close it felt almost suffocating. Coming into the campground we knew it was first come first serve, and there were only 10 spots in the campground so it was a possibility there would not be any available this late in the day.

Fortunately 2 spots were still open. It was then we realized the campground had no electricity, and no running water at the campsites. Not horrible as the Ark does have a generator, just a little inconvenient to burn gas to run it. The brochure did say the office which was just a mile back down the road had a bath house with running water and hot showers, again just a little inconvenient.

There were 2 reasons why we chose this campground to stay at. Its location on the way to Maryland and its proximity to the Greenbriar River Bike Trail. The trail is an 80 mile gravel path along the scenic Greenbriar River. It was once a railroad that has been removed but still has tunnels and bridges along the way, and one of those tunnels was 2.5 miles down from the forest. And from what we read in the brochures the trail was easily accessible from the campgrounds.

We set up camp fairly quick. Jack and Jinny needed to get some exercise so we leashed them up and threw Nora on my back with the Ergo. The problem with looking at trail maps in West Virginia is that it does not show the steepness of a trail just mileage and length. This trail was to be only 1.5 miles. As we hiked up the side of a cliff for a 1/2 mile I began wondering if this was a bad idea. When beyond comprehension, it kept going up, I KNEW it was a bad idea. Jinny was starting to walk very slow due to her bad knees. And Nora, after being trapped in the van for 6 hours was antsy to get out of the carrier and began to whine.

Foregoing the rest of the trail we concluded we should once again cut losses and head back the way we came, because there was no end in site to the ascent had we kept going. Jinny now was hurting and not wanting to walk. I scooped her up and carried her. Now I had 50 extra pounds on my legs, which were still tired from the hills at Kanawha State Forest the day before. So here I was. Crying baby on my back, content dog in my arms, irritated wife behind me, and a steep rocky descent awaiting me to fall disasterously down. Somehow I managed to negotiate it all without incident. I was now worn out, but could just relax for the rest of the evening with nothing to do except maybe get caught up on my blogging. Or so I thought, and as I so often did that day, I was thought wrong.

After just getting back to the campsite Sharon mentioned something about wanting to leave early the next day to get to Maryland sooner. I had not planned on leaving until 1:00 the next day so that we could have the morning to explore the Greenbriar River Bike Trail which was easily accessible from the campground. I really wanted to check out the tunnel which was only a short ride from the park.

Sharon suggested we should just do it that afternoon, since without electricity what else was there to do but explore. How can I not agree with that logic other than my body was slightly fatigued. But I have pushed myself before, and this was not that big of a deal. And making the last right decision I would make for a while, I decided it would be easiest if we drove the van to the trail since on the map it looked like it was only a mile or so, but as we just found out, that could be deceiving.

Upon further inspection of the map, getting to the trail actually required us to leave the campground. Also while looking at it I noticed it was not drawn to scale, so the distance to the bike trail was somewhat unknown. But we were driving so no big deal. The road to the trail began paved but shortly turned to loose gravel. We headed up a fairly steep hill but it only lasted a bit before we started heading downhill somewhat. The road progressively got steeped and curvier as we went. The brakes were starting to smell of heat and got me worried. I put the van into low gear and let the engine do the work for the most part. A mile went by, then another, and another, we were going a lot further than i thought and somehow it continued to drop down and down. This was going to be a beast to come back up I thought to myself. but there was no turning back. I was determined to make it to the trail, or what I referred to as my Wally World.

We did eventually come to a pull off for river access parking. I stopped and got out to inspect the trail. It was not much of a trail, but rather a tiny path worn in by small woodland creatures as they braved the treacherous rocky slope in search of water. There was no possible way we could navigate down on foot, let along with bikes and Nora. I was getting angry. I was going to get to my Wally World dammit!

I got back in the van and told Sharon, “There has to be a more easily accessible way to get to the river.”

At last after traveling down another half mile or so we got to the bottom and could see the river. We jumped out to survey the landscape.

We saw a wide, shallow, and clear river, but no trail! Where was the damn trail?! Then I spotted it, it was across the river and no bridge to get over there was in sight. But there had to be a bridge right. After all it said easily accessible right? WRONG! Lies, all of it LIES!

But like I said, I was going to get to my “Wally World” and have some damn fun. And to quote the great orator Clark W. Griswald…”I’m gonna have fun and you’re gonna have fun, we’re all gonna have so much f@#$#%g fun we’ll need plastic surgery to remove our goddamn smiles! You’ll be whistling Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah out of your as$$h*le$!”

Somehow I knew this was one of those debacles where people always say, “We will laugh about this later.” I was in no mood to laugh at that point.

I went and crossed the river to see how hard it would be. It never got above the knees but it was slippery. I made the decision to go for it. I do not think Sharon thought I was serious at first. One look at my face though told her I was serious. I was getting to that trail!

I strapped Nora to my back, grabbed my bike and headed across the river with Sharon closely behind with her bike. As I plodded across, carefully choosing my steps careful, looking for flat level rocks to step on, I kept thinking in my head how crazy this is. And how this is the most unaccessible, accessible trail, I have ever encountered. How could driving straight down a mountain for 7 miles, then crossing a river holding your bike in the air over slippery rocks be considered easily accessible!!

Okay, so we made it across, no falls, all good. Then when we climbed up the steep embankment to the trail I noticed something bad. My front tire was f#%^$&g flat! I lost it, I threw my bike, cursed, basically melted down. I did not want to make any more decisions so I asked Sharon what to do. She suggested I go back and get my bike pump and pump up the tire so we could at least ride to the tunnel just 2.5 miles down the trail.

I pulled myself together and made the long agonizing crossing over and back. I pumped up my tire. Once again we were ready to ride. At least Sharon and I were, Nora was saying “all done, back to the van.” but oh no, “we are going to ride this trail” I told her.

I was not having it, so we just started pedalling. She did stop whining after a bit and sat back and enjoyed the ride. I must admit it is a beautiful trail through a picturesque setting. Almost turning around at one point, as it seemed longer than 2.5 miles to get to the tunnel and we have not been having the best luck. But we caught a glimpse of the prize ahead. We could see the tunnel. We started into the tunnel and realized it was dark, really dark, so dark we could not see the ground in front of us, all we could see was the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

Upon exiting the tunnel we were met with a long bridge spanning the river. We figured we would ride to the end and then turn around, take in the view and head back. Well just over halfway across we heard a car motoring out from the forest behind us. It was a small compact car, I think a honda, carrying 5 shady characters in it, loaded down with stuff. I assume camping/fishing/hunting stuff, but hard to decipher as it was jammed in overflowing olive military bags. The back end was sagging to the point the top of the rear wheels were under the fenders. They were driving down a road running parrallel to the river and stopped at the bridge. I got a weird feeling from the situation and I think my mind was playing tricks on me as I swear I heard the banjo song from the movie Deliverance coming from the vehicle.

Sharon must have gotten the same uneasy feeling because as soon as they went out of sight she wanted to immediately turn around and get out of there. They stopped for a brief moment and stared at us, as if it was weird seeing us there, like what they were doing was just normal. Then the little engine of the car revved and they sped off, bouncing and sliding from mud puddle to mud puddle. We heard them for just a few minutes before they either stopped or got too far off in the distance. It did not matter, we were not sticking around to find out.

Once on the other side of the tunnel, Nora started up again, wanting to be “all done.” It broke my heart that I got her into this but there was nothing I could do but just ride and get us off the trail as fast as possible. We had marked where we came in with a stick and it was thankfully still there. I offered to make the trip twice, once taking my bike over, then coming back and getting Nora on my back and push Sharon’s bike for her. I had to do something to make her accept my apology for getting us into the mess.

I was so happy to be finished crossing that river, but we still needed to get back out of that river valley, and I was worried. I knew it was longer and steeper than what we did with the van in the gorge, and it got a little hot with that climb, so I didnt know what to expect this time. It was a lot to ask of the Ark. I told Sharon to settle in as this may take a while, I intended to go slow and not push the Ark at all.

The climb started steeply, not giving any type of warmup. I just creeped along, up and up and up. It seemed so much longer going up than down.I would have to let go of the steering wheel sometimes to work my hands in order to work out the numbness from gripping so tight. My heart raced with the anxiety that I would here a loud bang or clunk and that would be it for the Ark. Just like I heard those months back when that Safari Trek I had just bought crapped out in New Orleans. I just prayed that my decision to come see that damn tunnel would not cost me everything.

After about 3 or 4 miles the Ark was handling the hill like a champ. I started to cautiously relax a bit as I felt I could see the end in sight. As we crested I could could feel the weight lift off my heart. We had made it back to the top. The rest of the drive was short and easy back to the campsite.

The bath house was on the way back and I was dreaming of a hot shower, only to find out it was $1.50 to use the showers and we only had $1.78. One of us would do without. I told Sharon to go ahead and while I hung out in the van I noticed a guy sitting nearby with a laptop open. Perhaps they had wifi in the area. I was in luck. I got to get online to only find out my client had gotten on the call just after I hung up and had been trying all day to reschedule the call as the project had a very tight deadline. I did email her to tell her what happened and hoped we could just talk tomorrow.

The evening got progressively better. We got a fire started and heated up pizza leftovers. We also had a few beers which really hit the spot. Nora got to play and tire herself out. We packed the van for a 4-5 a.m. departure and got to bed early as we were really tired, and wanted to assure getting an early start the next day heading to Maryland.

I slept pretty hard. I woke up to total darkness. And I mean total darkness, there was not a hint of light anywhere. Like being deep in a cave with only a hole at the top where some stars were visible. I looked at my phone and the brightness caught my eyes off guard. And in the brief time I turned it on, so as not to wake Nora, I thought I saw it read 4:45, but in reality it was 2:45. Thinking it was time to get up and drive, I drug myself up into the driver’s seat, and motored out of the park. I was feeling pretty rough and dying for a coffee. I thought surely there would be somewhere to stop and get gas and a coffee. But once I got another look at the time and saw how early it really was I knew that possibility was slim.

The road started out fairly straight and level. Good, I was sick of driving up and down windy roads at that point. Then it all got ugly.

Not only was I having to navigate the small back roads without a GPS, the atlas map for West Virginia was torn right down through where I needed to look. And it was not an easy route as I had to turn unto several different roads to make it to I-64. But it was only 36 miles away so how bad could that be. Well those 36 miles took me almost 2 hours to navigate through the steepest, curviest roads I have maybe ever driven. Not to much the dense fog and the numerous deer hanging out on the side of the road. Their eyes would light up as I rounded a corner making my heart jump as I drive by inches from them. One literally jumped over the corner of the van when I came around one hairpin turn. I also almost hit a cat, several racoons, a possum, a woodchuck, and something black and round waddling off into the woods. It was like I was interrupting a wildlife secret rave party.

The windshield was fogging up and the dust from the gravel road yesterday had caked on and was not coming off with the windshield washers. Just smearing and getting worse. Eventually I had to stop and wash the windshield off by hand. Visibility got better, and when I finally turned on the high beams, visibility got much better. But it did nothing to calm the terrain into flat, straight roads. It was brutal. Seemed everytime I thought we had to be finished another mountain would show up in front of me.

All the while I was driving I knew I was carrying precious cargo. I thought my hands gripped the wheel hard the day before, but that was nothing to compared to this 2 hours of white knuckle driving I endured over those Virginia mountain roads. To be exact, it was Shenandoah Mountain Road that was the worst of it all. Eventually I came out to the town of Staunton, and it was the where I got to hop on a major interstate and cruise out of the mountains.

I was blessed with a gorgeous view of the Shanandoah Valley at sunrise, the sky lit up a light pink and ornage and you could see the rolling hills of shades of light purple and blue disappear into the the distance. It was postcard perfect. But I was not at a place where I wanted to stop and get a photo. Nora and Sharon were still sleeping soundly.

The next 6 hours went by without incindence. It seemed we survived the stormof bad luck and hopefully come out on the other end now, tired but not broken.

I love driving over the Bay Bridge Tunnel and up the Eastern Shore. It feels so much slower paced and laid back. It felt nice to be back. Next destination, Deal Island, Maryland.

A view of Cloudland Canyon during sunset

I must first say, I am so excited to be on another road adventure! There was a point I didn’t think we were going to find an RV that we could both afford and want, which meant my wanderlust was not going to ever be satisfied. But along came the “Ark” :)

We left either late wed. night or early thursday morning depending on how you view 1 a.m. And if you travel with young ones you know why we left at such a crazy hour. It was a 6 hour drive to Cloudland Canyon, so we arrived right around 8 a.m. It was on the huge hill leading up the mountain to the park that we really appreciated a small RV because I am not sure the Cruisemaster towing the Jeep would have made it up there.

We chose to stay in the East Rim campground and settled for a great spot right next to the well built playground. Nora has slowly been getting over her anxiety over new people and especially other kids. In fact at one point she was right in the middle of 4 kids playing with them. I guess everything is just phases they go through.

We did squeeze in a hike with the dogs to see the canyon after we set up camp. The canyon was incredible, something I cannot believe I had not visited before. It was just a few miles off highway 59, which we have travelled on several times. It was lush and green with large steep walls with exposed orange rock cliffs and outcroppings. Had it not been covered with vegetation it would have rivaled many of the canyons the deserts of the southwest. The sound of tumbling and falling water filled the air but due to the heavy tree cover it could only be heard and not seen. The only way to see the water below was a strenuous hike down into the canyon through a series of catwalks, stairs and bridges.

Laurel Falls

The course had 18 holes that were all pretty open. But will the rising and falling topography made them tougher than they looked. It was very well maintained and constructed. Cement pads and good markers always make for a nice course to play. The last few holes were tucked in the woods and were quite tight. The main issue I have with the course is one it cannot help, but for me is almost a deal breaker. Poison Ivy! It was everywhere on the edges of the course and made sending a disc into it, pretty much a lost disc. Luckily I did not have that happen as I was overly cautious about it as poison ivy is my arch-enemy. Hence I did not shoot the best score I could have.

Lost Sole #420, (some of my friend's favorite number :) This sole was more abandoned than lost, it was found in a broken down home that was left to rot and fall after being severely damaged by a tornado a few months earlier. It was discovered as I was biking on a highway just outside the park, headed to grab some ketchup. It was to be a short jaunt that became more of a trek, and this served as a good momento.

The next day we woke to a beautiful day, perfect for a hike, and our trail that we chose to conquer that day was the hike down into the canyon to the falls. We strapped Nora to my back with the Ergo and embarked, this was going to be Nora’s first official hike. Going down was incredible, it was so green and alive with birds and animals. The background sound of the water cascading over the rocks grew louder as we descended down the many series of stairs, which were well constructed with a mix of wood structure and metal steps for traction.

The waterfalls looked roughly the same and were about a half mile apart. I guess they have had incidents over the years and if someone does get into trouble down there, extraction would be difficult at best. So they have a new exploration off the walkways policy. Swimming and climbing on rocks was prohibited. Which was fine with us as it was cool down there and not much sun.

Eyeing the climb back to the top was daunting. The steps and bridges we climbed down looked to go on forever above us disappearing into the forest cover and out of sight. It was time for the real fun of the hike to begin.

Overall I felt we ascended up the maze of stairs fairly well. Only occasionally stopping. The feeling of overcoming the hike was great and made us quite hungry. We got back to the van, showered up and broke down camp. Time to head to Cincinnati. But first we had a small detour to make for lunch in Chatanooga :)

Here is the unveiling of the Nora's Ark logo, currently it is just in black and white and the only place we have used it is engraving it into the wood trim on the dashboard

We are loading up Nora’s Ark and setting forth on an adventure. We have scheduled stops in Georgia, Ohio, West Virginia, Maryland and North Carolina. It will be our first big journey in the Ark and we are so excited! I have been prepping and repairing the van for the last few weeks and she is about ready to go. We have been getting regular use from it though, taking it on short jaunts to the beach every weekend and other short trips. There is no better way to travel with a child than the Ark. Nora loves the van, and sometimes just hangs out in it watching movies while I do work on it.

While we honestly do have armed neighbors with itchy trigger fingers watching over our house, we are not going to post an itinerary :)

So stay tuned to see what little towns and destinations we check out along the route. Hopefully we find some new Dogparks and Brewpubs, and Thai restaurants, and mountain bike trails, and playgrounds, . . .

I am not sure if this was one of the girls flip flips or not, but it was on the sidewalk of the scene of the accident. I learned of its existence through a friend who sent me a link to the story on the Pensacola News Journal. The article on the website had a photo of the shoe accompanying it and I knew I had to go photograph it and dedicate it to Shakuriyah Jenkins.

While this is tragic, I cant help but think it could have been avoided. What were 2 young girls, 15 and 17, doing in the middle of a very busy 4 lane road with a babies in a stroller at night? But who am I to judge, I wasnt there, and I don’t live there. Maybe this is a place a lot of people cross the street everyday without incidence. It is sad to have a little life snuffed out so senselessly.

The journey to finding an RV to replace the Cruisemaster is complete. We have in our possession a 1995 Roadtrek 210 Popular. The day we finally got to pick it up from the seller and drive it made me very nervous. I had only seen it in pictures and it looked a little rough in them but perfect to restore without spending much. In one of the images, the duct tape I saw securing the external a/c vents had scared me about what the rest of the vehicle would be like. Unfortunately it was a precursor to the rest of the interior.

There was makeshift everything going on. The a/c had been replaced by one that was not an exact fit and he tried unsuccessfully to fashion moulding to help it blend in. As well as the after-market refrigerator. Same thing, horribly done moulding, and secured using gobs of liquid nails. The carpet was also replaced by him and obviously installed by him as it was not good at all. The best way to describe his style of work is “I fixed it.” Meaning, yes he did fix it, anyway he could, as fast as he could.

Another bad habit he had, or lack thereof, was cleaning. It was a mess. Dust and dirt everywhere. The doors and seats, and anywhere hands touched looked like he had never washed his hands. Counters and cabinets looked like they had never been wiped down in years. This all overwhelmed me at first, but the most important thing at that time was did it drive alright and what condition were the mechanical systems in.

This is where I have to give him credit. His focus was always on the mechanics of the van. It have been meticulously maintained with a stack of records and receipts to prove it. The engine started right up and purred like a kitten. So did the generator which costs as much as an engine does to replace. All the systems were a go, the water pump, the heater, the water heater, the a/c, the inverter, the dash a/c, the coach batteries, etc. I felt much better at that point, as I realized it was all just surface stuff that needed some TLC.

I got in and drove off. It rode great. It handled like a much smaller vehicle. There were a lot of rattles in the back from cabinets and other stuff but I knew I could fix that also. And because rattles while driving make me crazy, they were top on the list.

By just placing felt pads on the insides of all the cabinet doors and drawers, as well as adjusting a few latches made the interior noise-free. And so the renovation began. The next thing I did was buy some 409 and scrub the entire inside of the van from top to bottom. The kitchenette has stainless steel sink, stove and back splashes which were rusty and grimy. By using a little metal polish, thank you Scooter, and elbow grease they returned to sparkling, perfect condition! It was all coming together.

Dismantling was the next phase. He had screws and hooks placed throughout the coach in random places. All would need to go and holes filled in. In many cases the hooks were secured by double sided tape which left a nasty residue. He also had placed black duct tape over things such as switches that didn’t work, gauge that didn’t work which also left a nasty sticky goo behind. The windows had all been covered up with reflective material to keep out the heat, and this too had been secured using duct tape. Even more nastiness to clean up. Luckily there are many products out there to remove this gunk. I chose and it worked great. I am not saying it didn’t go away without some scrubbing and several applications, but it eventually took it all off.

Now the fun stuff began. Installation of the audio/video equipment. We got a new flat screen TV with an SD memory card slot so we do not even need to carry DVDs with us as we can load 50+ movies on one card. And we installed Nora’s DVD screens. She has one mounted on the passenger headrest so she can watch while in the car seat, and it is connected to another monitor in the back. I had to rewire the radio as he had only one speaker working and it was not even mounted in the dash, just held in by 2 pieces of styrofoam he cut to squeeze in the gaps.

The bed supports were broken and I had to replace them. The back couches convert to create a king-sized bed which we bought a memory foam topper for so we did not feel the “seams” created by the cushions below. This made for an extremely comfortable sleeping area.

Now that we had the living basics ready and clean enough to dwell in it was time for the aesthetics. The first thing to go was the horribly cut carpet with fraying edges laid down in the bathroom/kitchen area. I replaced that with a nice piano finish oak laminate flooring thanks to help from my brother-in-law Donny.

The next items to go were the broken and heavily stained front captain’s chairs. I found some awesome electric leather chairs online from a surplus dealer. It proved to be quite a task to get them wired and such but after a few days of looking around for switches and doing some modifications to the pedestals, thanks again Scooter, we got them installed.

I pretty much got everything do\one I wanted to and so we “moved” in. Rachie’s house was pretty full so it was nice to have our own space and free up room in the house for others. We slept very well out there and I had a great work station set up so I could hammer out work for clients.

The time came to head back to Pensacola and find out for real how traveling would be in the Ark. Instead of leaving in the evening and driving through the night we decided to hit the road around noon and take our time driving back. Even hitting the Mote Aquarium in Sarasota and enjoying dinner in Cortez in the back of the van.

We were so comfortable in the van. It rode great. Not a single problem on the journey back. I got us to Pensacola just before 3 a.m. Enough time left to get some good sleep and start working.

Over the next few days I worked on finishing up what I had started. One thing I had been wanting to do is get the spare tire out from the storage under the rear bench seat to free up valuable storage space. To do that I need to get a spare tire mount that attached to the rear door but after pricing new ones at around $300 -$400 including the chrome cover and cap I was somewhat dejected. That was way out of budget. Then I got an idea to check the local junk yards to see if a salvaged van perhaps still had a decent one.

Who would have thought a junk yard would be a gold mine for Lost Soles. I found 8 without even searching. This one, #406 was the first I found and it was in the van from which I salvaged all of the wooden dashboard trim from.

So there you have it. A formal introduction to Nora’s Ark. We have been making regular jaunts with it to the beach and for lunch outings. It is much easier to order take out and park the van at a park and eat inside so Nora has her space and we can eat without chasing her around. The Ark will sure see plenty of use and many adventures. The next one being a trip up to Cincinnati and over to Baltimore with numerous stops in between.

We had chose the Safari Trek because it was not as large as a typical class A motorhome but still afforded us enough room to live temporarily as we traveled cross country. The con was that it was still had many of the drawbacks of a class A. It was still too big to just park anywhere, and that meant it was going to require us to rent storage space for it. And when we traveled we were going to need a tow vehicle to get around our destination. Plus driving a class A is reserved just for me and that was rough with me always being the driver. This was ultimately going to be more trouble than we wanted.

Some time back we had noticed large conversion vans that were outfitted as self-contained campers, known as class B motorhomes, We really admired them for their mobility. We could park them anywhere and travel affordably since the MPG were in the 15+ range. They had a great deal of space in them we found out, complete with bathrooms and kitchens, and even a king size bed. We concluded that these vans would be a perfect fit for our travel needs. And so the hunt was on.

We found some that were close to our price range but most were a tad higher than we could spend without getting a loan. Especially for any newer than 1995. Which would not be terrible, just not something we really did not want to do. I thought maybe we found one down in South Florida where Sharon’s sister lives but after seeing some pictures I was not impressed and passed it up.

I scoured the internet looking through every RV used sales sites and Craigslist cities for the next 2 weeks, eventually coming across what I thought was a golden opportunity. It was an ad on Craigslist in Orlando for a 1999 Roadtrek that was in an accident and just needed some bodywork. The seller had listed that he had gotten a few quotes and that with the cost of the van plus repairs it was still below what we had budgeted, so that would give us some left over money to do some modifications such as solar panels and new mattress. Below is the ad as it was in Craigslist minus the actual dollar amounts…

$xxxx – 1999 RoadTrek 190 Vertile Needs Work this van is worth $xxxxx if its fixed but has been involved in a accident we had a couple estimates to have it back to normal the hole job will cost $xxxxx it still runs drives great just need body work clean title my loss your gain call 407-508-9401

The spelling errors should have been a red flag however I called as soon as I saw the ad. I was greeted by a fast-talking man with a Northern accent, maybe New Jersey or New York. He told me that he had several people coming to look at the van, but the first to put money in his bank account got it and that I needed to hurry up and decide. That was too big of a decision to make without seeing it. I asked for pics since he did not have any with the ad. He told me he could take some later that night but would most likely be too late as it is going to sell quick.

I felt a little uneasy about this guy and after what I had just been through in New Orleans, so I was going to be overly cautious. I responded by telling him I would have someone come out and look at it and get back to him about when I would come to see it. I knew a couple of people that live in Orlando and was going to have one of them check it out for me. However before I called any of them I thought of something brilliant, if I do say so myself :)

I phoned a nearby RV restration and repair shop and inquired with them if they offer a off-site estimating service. I was speaking to a guy named Bob that sounded very trustworthy. He told me it would not be a problem and it was fairly inexpensive so I hired him to go out and check it out that afternoon if he had time. I felt good about him having my back.

I called the seller and he seemed anxious about having them come out which got me anxious in turn. He then said he had estimates done already and when he quoted those estimates they were almost twice as high as he stated in the ad. I became very leery now of him. He was pushy and once again told me he had 10 people coming out that evening and that I am risking losing a great deal if I do not send him money asap to hold it.

He even brought up the fact that he was a pastor of a church and I could trust him. And he had been thinking about getting it fixed and donating it to the church as a write-off. I wanted to tell him what I was thinking but held my tongue. I was thinking to myself that Jimmy and Tammy Fay were pastors and look what they did. I think I may have even trusted him less after he had to make a point of telling me that. Again he told me he would send me a picture of it but never did.

It worked out that the body shop was too busy that afternoon and was not going to be able to get out and look at the van until the next day. I was more than willing to take my chances that it would not be sold before then.

In the morning I called him back up to see if the van was still available. He was was seemingly annoyed at me now, that I was wasting his time or something. He got pushier. I was not taking the bait. And once again his numbers about the cost for fixing it went up a bit. My hopes for this to work out were diminishing quickly.

Around 3 o’clock I got a call from the seller. The estimator had just been there and he told me that he quoted a rough price that was 4 times the amount he listed in the ad. He wanted to know right then if I was serious and without any money down he was needing to sell the van out from under me. He brought up a fact that even with the high cost of what he just quoted for the repairs, it would still be cheaper than what I could buy one for. Which was true, if the repairs only cost what he just quoted. But I knew better. Something smelled fishy to say the least.

I answered him with “that’s fine, you need to do what you need to do, and I need to do what I need to do. I am feeling way too much pressure from you and frankly no longer trust you. You have changed the dollar amounts several times and changed your stories about what condition the van is in. You never sent me photos like you said you were going to do. I am going to wait until I hear back from the RV shop, at which point I will contact you and let you know how I am going to proceed.”

I don’t recall what exactly he said but it was along the lines of “Alright, I’ll wait to hear from you later.” and we hung up.

I immediately called the shop to talk to Bob. He informed me that he just got back and was beginning to write up the estimate right then. I told him that he could save time if he thought the estimate was going to be the number the seller had just told me because that would be too high already. When I told him the seller’s repair cost quote, he chuckled.

This is the photo I got back from Bob at RV Collision and Restoration in Clermont, Florida. That is a major collision!

I was amazed but not surprised. I felt something awry from the very beginning, even if he was a pastor of a church. I think that statement from him was what really made me get uneasy early on. He was most certainly trying to hustle me and I was not going to be taken. I called him right back to kill the deal.

He instantly answered the phone “So are you ready to buy it?”

“No, I am going to have to back away from this.” I told him.

“What did the estimate come in at?” he asked shockingly.

“Let’s just say way higher than I am willing to pay. But I think you knew that already. I am very unhappy with the way I feel you misled me.” I replied, with a hint of disgust in my voice.

“I think they are trying to hustle you there, I bet if you bought the van and took it somewhere you could get it done cheaper. Hell if you just part it out you will make your money back.” he said as he was still trying to get me to buy the van.

Now I was getting angry. “I am not Sanford and Son and have no interest in running a junk yard from my driveway. I just was looking for a good deal for a Roadtrek and thought maybe this was an opportunity. I don’t know why I matter to you so much, you will have no problem getting rid of the van as you have several people lined up behind me to make a deal, or so you say. Good luck and I am finished talking to you. Good day sir.” and with that I hung up with a slight smile on my face.

Crisis averted.

I cannot believe what that guy was trying to pull. Thank god he was not the person I had dealt with in New Orleans, I would never of gotten my check back! He was a scheister!

We still did not have a vehicle but I was not giving up. We had just begun the search for reasonably priced class B vans. We just know something will come up and it will be exactly what we want, for the price we want. We just gotta have faith.

I know many of my readers have been wanting an update on the couple from New Orleans and the motorhome that died on me there. Unfortunately I do not have anything to tell you. I have looked online to see if they have re-listed it but did not see anything except the old ads where it was running fine. It is hard to look at the pics of that Trek. I am still scarred by that event.

So first thing I needed was a hotel room to crash, but where was I? Luckily my phone was now charged and it had GPS. I could look and see hotels nearby and there was a La Quinta Inn within a mile of where we were. The couple gave me a ride there, and on the way I booked a Greyhound Bus ticket back home at 10:30 a.m. Thank god for smart phones!

During the ride we began to discuss what we should do. I told them that I am sorry and that this is a bad situation for all of us but that I wanted to back out of the deal. They said something about me buying it “as is.” This remark made me really nervous. But somehow I remembered a law in Florida about 72 hours being a grace period to return a vehicle in case there were issues and just assumed Louisiana would most likely have something as well. So I said something to that effect. I found out later no such law exists.

Being good people and realizing that it would not be right to put this burden on me, they agreed to take back the coach and give me the check, and in turn I told them they could keep the $500 I gave to them for a deposit.

Once again I used my phone and saw that the notary we used earlier opened at 9:00. So we made a plan to meet at the hotel at 8:45, go to the notary, sign the title back to them and then they would give me back the check.

I got checked into the hotel and upon getting in the room, I had no pillows! So I went and got pillows, then noticed the room never got warm, the heat did not work :( They were very nice at the front desk and just gave me a new room, complete with pillows and heat.

I did not sleep well as I had so much on my mind racing around in there. I just prayed they would still honor the deal we made and give me back my check. I got up around 8 and took a hot shower which really energized me to get going on the day. I went down to the lobby for the free breakfast and was pleasantly surprised by waffles and eggs being on the bar. I also managed to get some free toiletries from the front desk. Things were looking up I told myself.

I sat down and some guys at a table next to me watching the news, started up a conversation with me. The subject eventually turned to why I was in New Orleans and I explained with vague details what happened the night before. The one guy offered me a ride to the bus station if needed but I told him the owners were going to give me a ride to the station. “Okay, but if you need me, let me know, I don’t mind. It is only 5 minutes away” he said. He was a really nice guy. But I did not tell them about needing to get with the owners to get my check back because I felt embarrassed about rushing into the purchase. Plus it was too much information to give to a stranger.

It was 8:30 and I was feeling anxious. 8:45 came and went so I tried to call them. No answer. I waited 5 minutes and called again. No answer this time either. Oh crap. I got that sick feeling in my stomach instantly. Then my phone rang, it was them.

“Hola Randy” She said and proceeded told me she was talking to her cousin on the other line to see if he could fix it, and if he could would I still buy the coach.

“I don’t know. Why don’t we talk about it when you get here,” I said. “Have you left yet?” I asked.

“Not yet, we are just heading out the door, and will be there in 10 minutes. But you know you did buy the coach ‘as is’” she remarked.

I didn’t respond directly, I merely said “Well let’s figure out all the options when you get here, I do really want to get that coach.” I was really nervous now about them not showing up and just leaving me.

Okay, it was 9:00 now and I went through my head with the timing. 9:00 now, they get here by 9:15 at latest, 15 minutes to notary so 9:30, 15 minutes in there so that gets me to 9:45, 15 minutes to bus station so 10:00 . . . still plenty of time. All good I thought.

So at 9:15 I began pacing the front doors of the lobby, then 9:20, 9:30! Nothing. I am really nervous, to the point of throwing up that free breakfast waffle. I try to call them. It just goes straight to voicemail. The nice guy from breakfast saw me in distress and once again offered me a ride. “No, they are coming,” I said.

I ry calling again, no answer. One more time.

“Hola Randy,” the voice on the other end answers.

Whew. “Where are you guys?” I asked nervously.

“We are on our way, 10 minutes.” She replied.

I knew I had to stay polite and nice so I could retain any hopes of getting the check back. “Okay, great. See ya in a few.” I chirped.

It was now 9:35 and I went over a timeframe in my head that got me to the bus station by 10:15. Still enough time to get my will call tickets and board. But every minute now became important. I could no longer sit in the lobby. I headed out to the curb so I could get in quicker and we could be on our way. I constantly checked my phone. 9:36. 9:37. 9:39…where are they?

In the meantime I knew I had to call Sharon as she was anticipating me to get with her already and tell her all was fine. She urged me to call Bank of America to see what we could do to stop the check. But I knew there was nothing we could do as it was a cashier’s check, as good as cash. I did call and they confirmed my fears, there was nothing I could do.

I was on the verge of a panic attack now as the time approached 10:00. If everything went quick, 5 minutes to notary 10:05, sign a few papers 10 minutes 10:15, 10 minutes to bus station 10:25, the bus may be late anyway. I could still make it.

I watched for their truck with great anxiety, just hoping they would show. If not what was I going to do!?!? The guy came out and pointed to his watch. “You need to leave now if you are going to make it, you sure you don’t need a ride.” He asked.

No sooner did I get “Nope, I trust…” out of my mouth did I see them pulling up. And I thought last night I was relieved to see the tow truck. That was nothing compared to this relief. I jumped in and noticed the time. 10:17. No chance now. :(

However I had to keep my poker face on as if nothing was wrong. I acted like it was no big deal and I could catch a later bus. When we got to the notary we sat in the truck and discussed the predicament we were in. He offered to sell it to me for half. I told him I couldn’t do anything until I had gotten a written estimate. This is where the language barrier became tough with her needing to interpret most of it for us. He continued to try and sell me on it, telling me how much he paid for it and that with parts alone it is worth it. I just couldn’t I was focused on getting the check and getting home. They were desperate to sell it and even went lower but I just could not do it. I told them I just needed time to go and research the cost of fixing it first as I did truly want to figure out a way to get into the coach.

They did tell me that they had no idea there was anything wrong with the coach and that they were going people. That they had no intention of swindling me. I whole heartedly believed them, and that is what made it all so difficult.

Dejected, they headed inside with me. I felt as low as them almost. This was awful. I just wanted to be free of this problem and be home. The notary made quick work of it and they handed back the check. I overheard him say to his wife that they had no choice because I could just cancel it anyway. I guess they were unfamiliar with a cashier’s check thank goodness. This may be a totally different story had they known it was as good as cash.
But not sure if they would have done anything differently as they seemed like really good people.

They was nothing spoken during the ride to the bus station. The only sounds were of him coughing violently from a cold that was exasperated by being out in the cold damp air the night before. He did not look well, and she looked like she hadn’t slept either. The day was not helping. It was overcast and dreary with a light cold rain with a below freezing wind chill. It was one of the most depressing atmospheres I have ever been in. I offered them a twenty for gas but they merely said “right now gas money is the least of our worries.”

I climbed out and tried to give a positive goodbye and tell them I would call the next day to let them know what I find out. As I was closing the door I overheard him say “sure, he will run away and never be heard from again.” The door closed. I felt terrible. I still remember watching them pull away. probably always will.

I had to then focus myself on getting home. I must admit once I got into the warmth of the bus station I felt much better. And so relieved to have the check in my possession and free to get back to Pensacola. All I had to do it figure out how.

I went to the counter to see when the next Greyhound to Pensacola was. She informed me it was leaving at 5:30 arriving at Pensacola at 1:20 a.m. WHAT!?! There was a layover in Mobile she told me. Well can I get a refund for the tickets I bought since I missed the bus. I was out of luck there too, as I bought non-refundable tickets, but on the bright side for $15 I could use them for future travel. I laughed to myself and walked away. I will not be getting on another Greyhound for some time.

So I sat in the warm and somewhat quiet bus station and pulled out my laptop. I found a rental car agency nearby and called them. The did have a car for one-way to Pensacola I could rent at a reasonable price, and most of all they would pick me up. I felt better now.

After getting to the rental car facility I was lifted up just to be dropped again on my head. I do not carry the credit card with me because I tend to loose things so Sharon keeps that card. They could not rent to me without a major credit card :( Dammit! Now I know for a fact some companies will still rent with a debit card and a deposit so I looked at my phone for any other rental companies nearby. I was in luck as there are several within walking distance. I knew I should have brought a warmer jacket than my wind breaker.

Now this part of town in New Orleans did not feel particularly safe, especially carrying my cash, a cashier’s check and my laptop. I just walked with a purpose with my head down and looked at no one. The next company I went to did take debit cards but they had no one-way rentals. So I moved one. The next one did not take debit cards. I had one more to check.

During the walk I checked airfare just in case and it was going to be very expensive but at the point just wanted to get home at any cost.

When I walked to the counter I was followed by a delivery guy. He had a brown bag, which I assumed was the attendant’s lunch. She politely asked me if I could wait one minute. She turned to the delivery guy and asked how much she owed.

“$12″ he replied.

“I thought it was $8, can I see the receipt?” She said. ” I could have sworn they said $8 on the phone, I only have $9 on me.”

Then I got an idea. “Hold on, I think I can solve this.” I said as I interrupted. I look at her and said “You need lunch and I need a car. If I buy you lunch, will you make it so I can get a good deal on a car to Pensacola. However the problem is that I do not have a major credit card on me as I left it at home, but have my debit card.”

She looked at me for a second and then told me “I think I can do it if you can do a $500 deposit.”

“Perfect, no problem.” I said happily. I got out my wallet and paid the delivery guy and he was on his way. Much like I will be if this works out.

I stood for a while as she punched in numbers and my information, and then it happened. She handed me a set off keys and set me on my way. It was really happening, I thought! I called Sharon immediately and told her that she would never guess what I am doing, “I am in a rental car heading home to Pensacola!” She was as happy as I was to get this ordeal behind us.

It was only a few minutes out of downtown when a traffic jam brought me to a complete halt. I stayed patient. I was so happy to be in a car heading home, all was good. I decided to pass the time by telling someone else my plight and the mess I just went through so I called my friend Trish. She always loves to here the crazy things that happen to me. I dialed her number and it was ringing, she answered the phone with an uncharacteristic “Hola” and I about hung up the phone from the terrible flashbacks.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. I did try to call around the next day to get an estimate on how much it would cost to put in a new engine into the Trek but I never could get one. No one seemed to want to undergo that type of job. I did email them, but never called them back. I am still haunted by the image of them pulling away and his last words of me running away. I do wish there was something I could do for them, but there isn’t. They were good people.

The dream of another motorhome was extinguished at that point. We had spent too much already on deposit and travel expenses to be able to try again. Or so we thought… Stay tuned.