Casinos

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Into the Land of Sky Tinted Water

I am at a McDonalds in Bimidji, Minnesota. I went a little out of my way yesterday to spend the night at the Seven Clans Casino, near Thief River Falls. I arrived at 8:00 and tucked myself along the far edge of the sandy RV parking area, then I went in to check out the restaurant. There weren’t that many options, but my ginormous turkey club with fries was very satisfying and only $8.

By the time I’d eaten and set up camp, it was going onto 10:00, which was 9:00 by my body clock because of the time zone change. I was tired, but not ready to sleep, so I left the tailgate open to listen to the birds in the marsh and read for nearly an hour.

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I fell asleep quickly but woke up gasping around 1:00 because it was really hot, even with the windows open and the topper door cracked. I squirmed out of my sleeping bag, covered myself with the blanket only, and fell back into a deep sleep until about 5:20. That was another good night for me!

It was 5:45 when I hit the road. I stopped for fuel ($3.43!!!!!!!!!) and coffee and was pleasantly surprised by how quickly the 100KM+ to Bimidji passed.

Croft asked how I feel about Moya’s gas mileage. It’s as I expected. I haven’t done the math yet, but, while I’m sure I’m not getting the 28MPG that Ford promises, it doesn’t feel that bad. I knew that I was trading fuel efficiency for a place to sleep and easier driving over rough roads.

I am hoping to make it to Sault Ste Marie ON today (The Soo), but I may opt to stay on the Michigan side and cross the border in the morning. I am staying at a motel tonight or maybe a campground if I find one with clean showers.

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Saratoga Springs, NY, to Chambly, QC

I had a slow morning at Saratoga Springs. The cats certainly were in no rush to go anywhere:

I enjoyed my quiet little corner of the raceway parking lot:

I backed right into a corner, just because I could:

The raceway was a long ways away:

I got the rig as squared away as I could and took off around 10. I was really impressed with the signage right at the Jefferson Street exit. It was certainly more helpful than my GPS, who told me to navigate to such and such a street:

I meandered my way to I-87 north and got off two exits later to take highway 50 north to Saratoga RV Park. Their dump fee is $20 and it’s just that, a dump fee. There is no potable water for filling an RV holding tank. They also sell propane and it cost $50 to fill the on board tank. Propane is the only thing I’ve found to be much cheaper in Canada than the US; this price would be exorbitant in Whitehorse, but was cheaper than in Washington State. That sure was an easy $70 for these very nice people!

Before heading back on the road, I parked the rig to the side so I could change into a nicer skirt (I’d worn grubbies to dump!). In a moment of perfect timing, the phone rang. It was the adjuster from Aviva wanting to let me know that the cheque was in the mail. She also asked me when I’m getting the other repairs done and I asked her to please give me a few days to breathe and think about this when I get to Montreal, a place I wasn’t at yet. I told her I’ll be filing my reimbursement claims shortly.

From the RV park, I was able to continue on highway 50 north to I-87, so the RV park wasn’t really a detour. It didn’t take long to reach the scenic and isolated Adirondacks. It is a rather long stretch after Saratoga Springs before you reach civilization again in Plattsburgh and you have to go through the scenic Lake George region.

I was amused when we started to hit the bilingual signs. Quebec does have some bilingual signage near the border, but the English is in tiny print, as per the law, while the French on the US signs is the same size as the English.

I’m always amazed by how quickly the landscape changes before Plattsburgh. One minute, you are surrounded by towering trees and the next you are in open cultivated land full of neat orchards.

It was going on 2:00 when I hit Plattsburgh for lunch. It was a bit of an emotional stop in that the last time I ate at the Applebee’s there was with my dad in late 2006. He was having a rare good day in his final stages of terminal colon cancer and we were on what turned out to be our last road trip together, just a quick border run, because he got tired so easily. I remember so clearly our discussion that day, with him making me promise that I would from then on make changes that would make me happy rather than satisfy other people in my life. Little did we know that less than two years later, I would be setting off on a great adventure. But I digress.

The border was nearly upon me, but I had one more stop to make after lunch. I pulled off in Champlain to get half a tank of gas, at a whopping $4.03 a gallon, the worst I’ve seen on this trip! A fill would have been $200, which is still cheaper than anywhere in Canada right now.

The knots in my stomach tightened when I reached the point of no return:

Left: Canada. Right: last US exit

It’s amazing how returning to my own country is more stressful than entering another one.

Croft asked in a comment if I was planning to cross in French or English. This was something that I debated and I finally decided to let the guard’s accent answer the question for me. I got a woman with a very thick accent when she spoke English. So I decided to cross over in French.

I was asked how long I was in the US, the purpose for my trip, how I met my friend in Virginia, and if I owned the motorhome. Then I got asked a question I could not answer and I froze: what was my license plate number? The car and the rig are one number apart and I can never remember which is which. I was just about to offer to jump out and check when the officer asked if I had my registration on hand. Oh, yeah. Duh. I got the right papers out and told her. She ran the plate number then asked the value of the goods I’d bought, if I had booze, drugs, or personal weapons on board. And that was it. The last time I had an easy clearing like that was back in 2005! I’ve been grilled harder coming back from a Walmart run! WOOHOO!!!!

From the border, it was just 45  minutes to my mother’s. I arrived, got level, and accepted a cold beer! That and getting the bike out of the living room were the only things I planned to do tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with getting some water on board, plugging me in, and getting me hard wired to the internet.

The drive today was really difficult and I am exhausted! It was windy, but I also think my suspension needs to be looked at. I started to notice that the roads felt really rough well before my accident, so I’m sure the issue is not related to it, but it seems worse now that I don’t have the toad. I just find that I’m bouncing a lot more and hearing things shift around in the rig. Tioga George just got some Bilstein shocks installed and I’m hoping that a simple cure like that is all that’s needed. It just seems that if I don’t have a perfectly smooth road I’m more bouncing than rolling down the highway and having a lot of side to side movement. I just did some quick research and it doesn’t sound like I have a major or unusual problem, but I’m astounded by how differently the rig handles solo!

Finally, I want to, again, raise both my middle fingers to the guy who honked at me for going 5 miles below the speed limit on a narrow, twisty road and to the guy at the shopping plaza in Plattsburgh who honked at me because I wasn’t turning fast enough for him. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!

And I would like to end by quoting T.S. Eliot:

We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

I have complained bitterly about how rude and rash are Quebec drivers. But having just traveled the breadth of the United States, I have to say that Quebec drivers were a breath of fresh air. After weeks of having the cars behind me whip around me at a highway on ramp, making it impossible for me to merge, it was a breath of fresh air to have the column of cars behind me wait patiently while I got over safely. And then I got caught on autoroute 10 in construction and traffic (its usual state) and everyone gave me my space and made sure I had enough room to change lanes. Merci beaucoup!

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St Clair PA to Saratoga Springs NY

I am parked at the Saratoga Springs Raceway in Saratoga Springs, New York, just north of Albany off of I-87.

I was awake ludicrously early this morning (5:45!) because I went to sleep by 10:15 and actually slept straight through. I wasn’t ready to be up, though, so I spent about 40 minutes cuddling with Tabitha. I took the time to make a nice breakfast, then headed into the Walmart to withdraw some cash.

It was misty in St. Clair this morning:

But the mist started to clear up as I got ready to pull out:

The drive back up to I-81 was much easier than the drive down. I knew I was going to hit construction immediately and that I was in for a long, hard haul to just past Albany. I actually have blisters forming on my hands from all that white knuckling!

At Hazleton, I took everyone’s advice about the state of the hill between Scranton and Wilkes-Barre and veered east onto I-80. My GPS was much smarter today and quickly adapted to my new route, especially since I remembered to change the settings to allow routing on toll roads.

I had a very frustrating experience getting gas. There was only one pump I could access and there was someone ahead of me in line for it. The old codger got out, saw me, and went back into his vehicle. His wife tottered into the store and came out about five minutes later. The man got back out of his truck, pumped his fuel, then tottered over to the store. He came out, looked my way, and got back into the truck while his wife adjusted some things in the truck bed. She got back into the truck and they sat there another five minutes before moving on.

I got the fuel, which took almost 20 minutes since I had to authorize the pump twice, and did a check around the rig before moving on. I found a sporty red car in my blind spot. It sat there for a full five minutes before the owner came out of the store. She spent several minutes cleaning trash out of her car, then started pumping her fuel. When that was done, she sat in her car and dialed her phone. By this point, I was so angry I decided to not even attempt to get out and ask her politely to move. Sum total, I lost almost a full half hour waiting for her to clear out! I should have cut my losses at the old codger and gone to the next station down the road. I couldn’t believe that I wasted a whole hour to get fuel!

I’d spent some time last night trying to figure out how the NY Thruway works and what my toll would be, but gave up. I did cobble together, correctly, that I would encounter a toll booth upon entering the Thruway and would be given a ticket that would determine what I would have to pay at the toll booth on the exit.

This is what the ticket looked like:

Each line indicates the exit number and applicable toll. So it was easy to compare the ticket to my GPS instructions and determine that I would be exiting at 24, for a nice even toll of $11.

It was getting on lunchtime by this point, so I decided to stop at the first service area on the Thruway. I bought a nice loaf of French bread last night and planned on peanut butter sandwiches and coffee for lunch. This plan was cemented by the fact that there was a Starbucks at this first service area. Paying the Thruway surcharge on an espresso was more appealing than cleaning the French press and making my own, plus an espresso has less caffeine. Needless to say, I was surprised that a tall Americano was $2.22, just seven cents more than in Smithfield, VA, and still cheaper than a short Americano in Canada! The fast food options also seemed reasonably priced, but gas was almost $4 a gallon!

My exit was just past Albany, and let me tell you that I never thought I would be so grateful to see New York’s capital city! I knew that, from then on, it would be smooth sailing in increasingly rural landscapes all the way to my mother’s.

The exit toll booth felt very chaotic:

From Albany, I entered one of my favourite parts of the US, remembering fondly summers spent at Lakes Champlain and George and random excursions into Plattburgh with my dad just to eat dinner in another country. My detour to the raceway notwithstanding, I didn’t need a GPS anymore and felt the weight of my travels fall from my shoulders. All the signs pointed to Montreal; I was on the home stretch!

I was really tempted to continue to Montreal, but the rig was in no way ready for the border. Instead, I got to Saratoga fairly early, will have a relaxing evening, and will set out at a leisurely pace tomorrow. I was going to arrive for lunch, but failed at finding propane and a dump station today, so I need to do that tomorrow. I know there’s a state campground a couple of exits up and it should have a dump station for me to use. As for propane, wish me luck. That stuff is elusive! I had thought I’d pass a campground today and would be able to dump there and ask for directions to propane, but campgrounds would have required huge detours. Crazy!

When I got in, sat down at the computer and noticed a weird smell. What was that? Rubbing alcohol? No… Oh, acetone! I opened the medicine cabinet and discovered that a bottle of nail polish had overturned. There was very little to mop up compared to the stench that is still lingering.

Now, it’s time to figure out what I’m doing for dinner. I’m sure beer will be involved. It’s hot here!

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Into Kentucky

I am parked at the Cracker Barrel in Shelbyville, Kentucky, and looking forward to the parking lot clearing out so I can get myself on some levelers!

Part of the trouble with figuring out tonight’s overnight spot was that Google Maps kept routing me out off of I64 and around Louisville. I did some research and learned that the Sherman Minton Bridge, which connects I64 in Indiana to I64 in Kentucky at the western edge of Louisville, was shut down due to maintenance concerns for several months. Even though the bridge has now been reopened for two months and Google knows this, it has failed to update its mapping application. Once I knew that I could stay on I64 through Louisville, it completely changed how far I felt I could get today. None of the Louisville overnighting options were on I64. It made sense to get clear of the city and then pull over. Shelbyville had a number of options, with the Cracker Barrel the only sure bet.

Cracker Barrel is a restaurant I have mixed feelings about. I love their food, but it is so unhealthy that I feel guilty when I eat there. But tonight I had a good reason to do so and I savoured every bite, including their OMG crustless coconut cream pie (which is actually a toasted coconut custard).

But let me go back to the beginning of the day. I didn’t want to get to the Cracker Barrel too early, hoping to miss the dinner crowd (that plan failed), so I had a slow mo morning in St Louis and pulled out at 10:30, with my ETA being 6PM. Huh? Oh, I was going to cross into EST today!

Miranda at Harrah’s St Louis

I did a double take when I saw this rig pull in last night!

Getting through St Louis this morning was much easier than it was at rush hour on Thursday. I was glad to be going eastbound because check out the westbound lanes:

Shortly after crossing the Mississippi into Illinois, I got off the freeway to get fuel and have visual evidence of why I loathe getting gas in the motorhome with the car attached. Why do some fuel stations have those stupid useless cement bollards at each end? Let’s just say I miscalculated my turns. A good Samaritan tried to warn me, but I saw this happening in the mirror and knew I couldn’t stop it:

I drove another 100km to the Goshen Road rest area for lunch:

Goshen Road Rest Area

After lunch, I put a capful of Turtle Wax car detergent into a bucket and diluted it with a couple of cups of water. Armed with a soft green scrubby pad, I spent at most 15 minutes vigourously scrubbing away the remnants of the bollard’s attack on my car:

There’s still a very faint line on the door and one by the wheel well, but you have to know they’re there. I’m glad that my cursory assessment at the gas station was correct; I just scrapped the paint off the bollard but didn’t do any real damage to the car. You can all start breathing again. 😉

Now, I’m going to say something that is going to leave some of you in disbelief and assured that I am a couple of cards short of a deck: the east smells different from the west. I really noticed it at the Goshen Road rest area; there was this humid scent of humus that I haven’t smelled for years. It could be that the vegetation is different.

I drove some more and crossed into Indiana:

My only experience in Indiana was at a really horrible rest area. The welcome centre on today’s route was much nicer:

I found this map interesting. I drove on the northwestmost red line on this map and was traveling on the southwestmost red line:

The Indiana welcome centre had information about the Lincoln Boyhood National Memorial. I think he looks very handsome without his beard:

Lincoln is an historical figure who feels very real to me, not legendary. I think it’s because I saw the place where he died. There was a pillow on the bed that was supposedly stained by his blood. I don’t know for sure if that was real or not, but it made an impact on me.

Lincoln’s mother died of something I’d never heard of:

The NPS has a very informational page about milksickness.

The overpasses in Indiana, like those in Michigan, are painted sky blue:

About 10 miles from Louisville, it became imperative that I stop to use the bathroom and I only had a quarter tank of fuel left. So I pulled off the highway at an exit where there were several gas stations. I found one that I could easily pull into, but the roof looked low. I was very happy that they bothered to post the clearance level. It was 13′, which gave me a foot and a half to spare. 🙂

I crossed the Kentucky state line on the Sherman Milton Bridge and was then formally welcomed into the state:

It says birthplace of Abraham Lincoln, but I think of it as the birthplace of my favourite female singer, Loretta Lynn. 🙂

Driving through Louisville was easy. I stuck to the centre lane when possible. There was almost no traffic and no one honked at me!

Louisville, KY

The Kentucky welcome centre is very beautiful!

From there, it was only about 10 minutes to Shelbyville. My GPS thought the Cracker Barrel was almost a full kilometre past where it is, so I missed it. I was very glad that just a couple of kilometres down KY-56 there was a small shopping centre into which I could pull in and turn around. I saw the Cracker Barrel on the way back, but was confused by the sign that said that RV parking was thataway, leading me to think that there was another entrance. Thankfully, the next entrance was a U-shaped one, so I was able to get turned around again and finally manoeuvre myself through the Cracker Barrel maze into one of their three RV slots.

This was the first night since I left Lethbridge that I arrived absolutely exhausted so I was glad to have an excuse to have supper made for me, and even gladder that the manager was so quick to say that I could stay.

The sky has been rumbling for the last hour and it has finally started to pour. It is also very dark out even though it is just 8:30EST. I will be getting to bed early tonight so that I can pull out reasonably early tomorrow. I have a fairly short driving day planned, so I’m hoping to get to a rest area fairly early on where I can spend part of the day and catch up on some things.

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A Generous End to the Evening

I decided to go up to the casino tonight to put $10 in the slot machines as a thank you for letting me stay. Since the day had been so cheap, I decided to check out the restaurant offerings. Everything was either way too expensive or way too fast foodish. The only option left to investigate was the buffet, but at nearly $20 I was convinced I’d be turning around and having dinner at home.

When I got to the entrance, I noticed a woman was standing there glancing at the people coming in. She came over to me and said, “Have you prepaid?” “No…” She then handed me a ticket for the buffet and said, “Pay it forward.” I don’t know if she won a free dinner or what, but wasn’t that nice of her?! I can’t believe I got a free dinner! I had some tasty baked chicken with mashed potatoes, veggies, and salad as a first course, then a couple of pieces of ravioli with some sausage and more salad for a second course. Third course was a small scoop of ice cream and a tiny brownie. Fourth course was half an orange and some honeydew melon. It had been a very, very, very long time since my sushi lunch and I was ravenous, but I don’t think I ate excessively at all. It definitely helped that dinner was free, so I didn’t feel I had to get my money’s worth. 🙂

The lady didn’t let me say much to her beyond thank you, but I was able to confirm that she’s not from Missouri. 🙂