Something in the Water.

"Adventure is out there!!"






Early one morning, after we had set the Admiral off on his way to work, the rest of us decided that an adventure was called for.

The only trouble with snowy adventures is that it takes so much work to get ready for them. Consequently, there is less time for the actual adventure.
Especially if the entire crew gets hauled back by the Commodore because they forgot to wash the dishes.





But we finally did get under way. It may be noted that the Commodore was not very happy, but she was still willing to come, and the sight was really worth it. We were all just walking along when we spotted them.








We were simply flabbergasted.



And the 1st AB was just a little bit envious. Back at home base, geese either fly through the air, walk on the grass, or swim. Geese in Nebraska have discovered a different method for walking.

On WATER.







Of course, this being a scientific voyage, we were very curious. Was it some skill that this particular flock had learned? Was it because the geese in Alabama are heavier from their less wintry diet? Or was it something in Nebraska's water? The 1st Mate and the 1st AB decided to get to the bottom of it.




Conclusion Number One: There is something in the water in Nebraska.We believe it is called "ice," a thing that only appears in Alabama freezers.
Conclusion Number Two: Once a great mystery such as this has been solved, it is time to head back to the ship for Hot Chocolate.

Chili Verde

Good food and good times go together like bread and butter. It is a fact of life that even modern science cannot find grounds to refute. When one is ill, one wants comfort foods, when one is happy one wants party foods, and when one grows just a bit homesick, one wants home food. Yesterday, wandering around in the cold, watching the snow geese, staring at frozen rivers and, looking at the weather report that calls for a week of snow, we began to miss home. And we realized that it had been a long time since we had one of the meals for which the Master and Mistress of Swampwood are famed. As we are separated by more than a thousand miles at the moment, it was necessary to make do with what we could scrounge up. Chili Verde.


After calling up the Master of Swampwood to ensure that the result of our efforts would not be terrible, the Commodore began by burning the skin off of the peppers. This is a fragrant task, to say the least, and within seconds, Tallulah was filled with the spicy smell of burning peppers, after which these same peppers were carefully skinned. Then the Commodore had to taste them. It is not often that the Commodore is outdone by a pepper. She has a fairly heat tolerant mouth, and usually she can at least fake a smile until she gets something to drink. I do not think it is very much to the crew’s disgrace that we had a bit of a chuckle as we hastily handed our bold Commodore the cheese and crackers that she begged for. In went the pepper, which somehow grew tamer during the process. In fact, even the Admiral ate the finished product.


And when the supper was finished, we sat down to eat. The food did not really taste like the food we get when we are at Swampwood, but it was good enough. By the time we finished eating, we were not so homesick, and today, the sun even came out.

Duffers and Owls.

Sometimes while traveling one comes across persons who defy explanation, and whose actions make absolutely no sense. We came across such a person yesterday.

Yesterday we made the move from Pueblo, CO to Junction City, KS. It was a long drive, but not more than we could handle. At lunchtime, we stopped at the Kansas welcome center for sandwiches. We found some advertising booklets with lists of RV parks in them. We narrowed our choices down to two parks, three hours apart. The first was a city park with water and electric, the other a fully equipped campground with the usual amenities. After the Admiral called to check the parks' rates, we decided on the latter. It would make for a long day, but it was advertised as having attractions in the area, and seemed and interesting place.
When we arrived, dusk had faded into dark, and all we could make out of the entrance was a sign.
Covered Wagon RV Park, and underneath the unmistakable and highly unappreciated word:

CLOSED.

So the Admiral called the number he had dialed before, hoping that there had been some mistake, that there was another Covered Wagon RV park in , Abilene, KS, and that we had not just driven three hours longer than we wanted to for nothing. The owner assured us that the park was closed. 

"I wish you had told me that before we drove three extra hours to get here," said the Admiral. "Well, goodbye," said the owner, and hung up. 

We began a rather depressed search for the next closest campground. For some minutes, we believed it to be 47 miles on down the road, not a cheering prospect after dark in strange territory.  Then we found one only twenty-one miles down the road, the Owls Nest Campground. We stopped our hastily begun dinner preparations and headed towards our new destination.Upon arriving, we were...well, not happy. Perhaps even more depressing than the original sign was one that read "overnight sites available now" followed by  the words:

Sorry, We're FULL

Here follows another desperate search conducted in the entrance to this park. About twenty minutes later, a little car drive by us. The park was very crowded, and several cars had already gone by, so we did not pay this one much attention. Until there was a knock on the door. 

I hope that considering the events of the night, the thoughts of most persons in the bus upon hearing that knock can be forgiven. Fortunately, the Admiral opened the door quite calmly. It was the owner. He very politely explained that he had been gone for a week, and he knew that the sign said full, but if we were still looking for a site, he had some spaces that had been reserved but were still empty, and he would see what he could do. He then removed the picnic table from the middle of a nice pull through. 

Friendly campground owners are always nice, but they never seem so nice as at 10:00 at night when there is nowhere else to go.

Letters from home.

Before we left base camp to begin our exploration of the vast territories of the U.S., we appointed the Harbor Master and the Frog as caretakers. Today along with a package of much needed and inconveniently forgotten items (the 1st A.B.'s favorite tie, the beaters and dough hooks for the Commodore's favorite mixer...) we received a report of their success in keeping the place free of troubles and potential dangers.

The report read as follows.

Dear Everybody,
Thanks for the house. [It is only proper that they should thank us. before we left, we were making them live in the boat shed.] We hope you enjoy the renovations when you return, i.e. the electric purple walls in the living room. [I would imagine that electric purple is a great improvement. At the Admiral's insistence, the walls in the living room were painted toasted marshmallow. Although it sounds warmer and nicer, there is actually no difference between toasted marshmallow and raw marshmallow.] The color reminded us of the Admiral back in his teenage years. [Rumor has it that years ago the Admiral approved of colors that were darker and brighter than toasted marshmallow.] Hopefully, he will appreciate them the most. We put a T.V. in the bathroom, and a skylight in the closets to save on electricity. [We knew we could count on the harbor master for frugality.] The good news is that it only leaks a little. (Don't worry, there's a bucket underneath them all.) [And good sense.]
Well, have fun in the desert. I hope it doesn't turn into a tundra. [Nonsense, all the natives are talking about how nice all this Spring whether is.]

Love,
The Harbor Master and the Frog.

It is so good to know that all is well at home base.

Chain reactions.

Everyone has heard that if you stand in a crowded place staring up at a fixed point, persons passing by will look up as well. I have done this several times. It works beautifully in a mall when one is with a group of people wearing strange hats. It also works in gas station parking lots.

We were pulling out of the lot to get back on the road. The Commodore was pulling into the first part of a three point turn, when over a concrete wall (thanks to the excellent vantage point provided by our dear Tallulah) we spied a remarkable sight. Probably even more remarkable was that we had time to get the camera taken out and put together in time to get a picture.

 

We have not yet had time to positively identify this fellow, but it was beautiful, and we really enjoyed the sight of him. (Note: It is not in the fence, the fencing was just there, between us and it.)And as far as we could tell, the guy in line behind us enjoyed the sight as well.

Go Tallulah Go!

Yesterday (Wednesday) morning, we left PA around 5:30-6:00 am. We had some difficulty getting started, mostly because the firefighters were very busy taking care of public roads and things, and could waste no time um... looking after the campground that they run. But we got going, after two or three rollbacks to get some traction. Once we were going though, we made excellent progress. There is something rather fascinating about having been in three different states by 10:00 in the morning.

We ended the day in Montgomery City, MO. All roads lead to Missouri, for us. Still, it was quite cool to be back on the west side of the Mississippi. Exceedingly cool, in fact it was downright cold at a snug little four degrees.
The Admiral had to be in Kansas City, MO by noon today, and all he had was a nice easy three hour drive. A decent start, and nothing to it. Ha. The door of his new truck wouldn't open. Note: When having issues with stuck doors, find a place with a locksmith. We ended up calling service station after service, all of whom were highly sympathetic and totally willing to help, by giving us another phone number. Finally we discovered Frank's Quick Change, and the problem was solved in time to allow the Admiral to reach his destination on time.
We are camped in Bonner Springs, Kansas, for a grand total of six states in forty-eight hours. It's not a record, but it is enough to make one's head spin. "Where are we?" is the question of the day.

So, today, Kansas, tomorrow, on to Colorado. Hopefully, anyway.

Ship's Cooks?

Saturday the crew, the Admiral and the Commodore took a short voyage to Pittsburgh, PA. There the found a farmer's market, where they purchased farm eggs and apples. The crew preferred these apples over the apples that came from the grocery store. We were then faced with the trouble of what to do with the store apples, as wasting them was certainly not an option. The A.B.s declared that they knew just what to do, as they had a recipe the apples would just suit for. Trusting they that would not make false claims, we let them loose in the galley. After the discovery of a communication malfunction between the Commodore and the Captain, however, A bit of trouble with the ship's new cooks was brought to the light.
Whether or not they actually read the recipe has not yet been ascertained.

 

Collaboration. 

 

Disaster is creeping in. What do we do?!

 

Call in the Captain.

 

The 2nd A.B receives instruction.

  

 The rescued finished product. 

Apple Crisp, the umm, vegetable for supper.