The Road Less Traveled

We left the North Atlantic coast of Maine and our 10,000th mile shortly after sunrise, and on Highway 2 cut through the rural part of the state. Golden yellow and fiery red tipped trees, pumpkin patches specked with orange orbs, and dryer, crisp air all hint that fall is on its way. We settled our first night away from the sea in the White Mountains of New Hampshire along the Saco River.

The next morning, we began the Kancamagus Scenic Byway, traveling west across the national forest and listening to an audio tour of local lore provided by the whitemountains.com website. In two short hours, the Vermont border appeared, and we were on the Vermont Scenic Byway 100, traveling north. It became clear pretty quickly that our timing for this drive was right on. We are late enough in the year to glimpse the New England autumn bloom, but early enough in the season to avoid the crowds. Our first stop on this popular drive with Leaf Peepers-tourists like us who visit during autumn to see the changing of the colors-is Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream tour in Waterbury. Just up the road from B&Js is the cider house, Cold Hallow, where they make and sell everything made from apples, including apple cider donuts. After a quick visit to the all-season resort town and final residence of the Swiss von Trap family, Stowe, Vermont, we checked into our Harvest Host farm, picked some blueberries from their adjacent bushes, and later dined in Burlington along Lake Champlain with sunset views over the Adirondack Mountains in neighboring New York.

Lower center: Sam Mazza’s pick your own blueberries and Harvest Host; Sunset over Lake Champlain and Adirondack Mountains

Continuing on the Vermont Scenic Byway, we turned south the next morning and enjoyed breakfast with our fresh picked blueberries along the Mad River under one of the 100 covered bridges in the state. With one quaint, artistic town and ski resort after another we traveled along the spine of the Green Mountains, sampling apple everything, maple syrup in sugar shacks, and artisan cheese from country stores all amid the smoldering fall foliage. Just as quickly as our drive through New Hampshire, we leave the Green Mountains and its fiddlers elbow curves and arrive in Bennington, Vermont for a twilight game of golf on the back nine in the Berkshire hills.

Top Right: breakfast by Mad River and covered bridge; falls; lunch at Weston Priory Benedictine Monks; Vermont Country Store; golf in Berkshires

Our final day before entering the Skyline Trail in Shenandoah National Park, we spent golfing at Foxchase golf club, outside Lancaster, Pennsylvania, our Harvest Host and last chance for golf for several days, and the Hershey Story Museum and Chocolate Lab. A real sweet treat, the museum is of high quality and recounts the beginnings of this entrepreneur, his apprenticeship with a candy maker, the string of failures before his success as one of the wealthiest chocolatiers in America, and how he gave away all his fortune for the next generation. Following our tour around the interactive exhibits, Dan and I had just enough time to share a chocolate tasting from around the world, before our time in the Chocolate Lab. The one-hour hands-on chocolate lab, reminiscent of my old grad school days in the food science lab, experimenting with artificial sweeteners, was a flavorful way to end our visit. We were given the opportunity to make our own chocolate bars, and while they were cooling we were given a class all about this wondrous bean and the multitude of uses from soap to candies.

A Bite of the Big Apple

The Tuesday after Labor Day, Dan and I packed up the Van, said our farewells to Matthew, and trekked Northward. The traffic was heavy around the Baltimore area. To avoid the morning rush, we decided to make a wider sweep toward the densely populated Amish community of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The detour rewarded us with glimpses of a-day-in-the-life of those who lead a traditional Amish or Mennonite lifestyle. Like most scenic byways we’ve driven across the States, the area is filled with alternating corn and soybean farms and red barns. The differences, here, are in the details. The homes are manicured to perfection, gardens tended by young women wearing traditional long dress and bonnets, clotheslines are filled with black suits and billowing white sheets, double-team horses pull the farm equipment while the beard-clad men hand harvest the corn at speeds comparable to its diesel-powdered competitors. All transportation on roads is either by horse and buggy, foot, or scooters, and not the Lyft or Uber brand electric scooters found littering most city streets now days. We lunched at Kitchen Kettle Village and stocked up on locally-made specialties, then continued on to New York City.

Surprisingly, we found a RV park along the waterfront in Jersey City, with an easy walk to the Path light rail and Liberty Harbor Ferry to Downtown New York City. The Overpriced parking lot was our fourth RV park in eight weeks. Within 20 minutes of checking in, we hopped on the ferry and were at the 9/11 Memorial. The remainder of the day was spent touring the clean and sophisticated Downtown area. A mix of modern and carefully preserved period buildings, the eclectic architecture of Manhattan creates a cohesive look unique to such cities as London, Paris, and NYC. The sun closed on our whirl-wind day and was replaced with a milky-way of building lights while we dined at a seafood restaurant along the Hudson River.

*Top Left: Liberty Island Ferry Dock, Jersey City; 9/11 Memorial, Empire State Bldg., Time Square, Colgate Clock and Jersey City Skyline*

On day two, Dan and I took a larger bite of the Big Apple and continued our hop-on-hop off tour of Manhattan, including Uptown, Harlem, and the Bronx. At timed intervals, pedestrians flooded from the subway exits, streaming down the sidewalks, bike paths, and streets, while cars inched along, blaring their horns at the masses blocking their path. Sirens wailed, jack hammers thrummed, and trains clacked along the metal tracks; these are a few examples of audio sensory overload we experienced throughout the day. Looking for a respite from the flashing lights, crowds, and city din, a walk around Central Park was needed. A few steps in and all fell away, replaced with green and the sound of children’s laughter. After a short stroll and lunch at Tavern on the Green, we were reenergized and hit the streets once again. We rounded out our second day, with a harbor cruise around Lady Liberty and traversing the streets of Little Italy and China Town, sampling the local delicacies.

Our last day was spent in Brooklyn and Queens, specifically Astoria. After spending the morning touring around Brooklyn, Dan and I took the subway to the end of the line in Astoria to meet his cousin Linda and her husband Chuck, who selflessly drove down from Vermont just to meet us and tour us around the old hometown of her and Dan’s grandparents. For it was approximately 120 years ago that Dan’s great-grandfather came to Astoria from Salle, Italy for the promise of a better life. Retracing the steps his grandfather took to church, local shops, Astoria Park, and his childhood home was like a walking family history tour. We ended the lovely afternoon with a delicious Italian dinner at a local eatery. Thank you, Linda and Chuck, for your time and family knowledge. We recognize and appreciate your efforts.

Top Right: Brooklyn tour, Chuck, Linda, Dan, and me in Astoria, the first Italian Methodist Church started by Dan’s great grandparents, the City at night (9/11 Memorial lights)

Exhausted from hours of touring, a couple days of relaxation at the beach was much needed, so we did as most New Yorkers do and escaped to the Hamptons. An oceanfront campground in Mantauk provided the peace and quiet for our rejuvenation. Winds whipped at the waves, spouting sea mist high in the sky; grasses bent, clutching the sand dunes; and our van swayed, rocking us into a peaceful sleep. Fresh seafood and salt air did the trick. Tomorrow we follow along the New England coast to Acadia National Park.

His(her)story

We began our trek along the Ohio River Byway (US 7) on a Sunday, the day of rest for most of the residents in the riverfront towns, with bridges straddling the states of Ohio and West Virginia. The tranquil drive through the green forests and sleepy towns afforded our eyes to take in all the sights while listening to the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes book on Spotify. We lunched in a park overlooking Gallipolis. With flower baskets bursting in color and swing benches along the palisades-type park, lunching by the Ohio River created an old-fashion picnic experience. North of Marietta we picked up the Covered Bridge Scenic Byway (US 27) and started driving inland along the back roads of Ohio-the seams binding America’s counties. We witnessed restored covered bridges, painted barns, and old log homes in Wayne National Forest. Wild turkeys flew across the bow of our touring van as we traversed the back hills’ homes alternating shacks, tin mobile homes, and new development. Still rich in natural resources, some properties house oil rigs known to pump a few barrels of oil per month. At Woodsfield, Ohio we paused, admiring the old theater and court house before turning toward Wheeling, West Virginia.

Clockwise: Ohio Covered Bridge Scenic Byway; center, Gallipolis; Monroe Theater, Woodsfield; Shreffs Hometown BBQ

We parked in Wheeling, West Virginia for a couple nights, staying with my maternal Aunt Barbara, whom I recently connected with on Ancestry.com. With open hospitality, Dan and I were chauffeured all around the “Wild and Wonderful” West Virginia town, given the gold star tour of, not only our nation’s early beginnings, but of my maternal family beginnings as well. For I learned that my maternal ancestors chose Woodsfield, Ohio, which I paused to admire earlier in the day, and Wheeling, West Virginia as their home settlements when arriving to this country from North Western Europe. A break in the heat and humidity allowed for a full day outing to the Oglebay Home and Gardens, a tour of the glass museum, and local specialty eateries among the beautifully resort Victorian homes of the area. A special thank you to Barbara and Debbie for everything.

Top: Oldest suspension bridge in world, Wheeling, WV; Capitol Music Hall-2nd to Grand Ole Opre in Country Music Entertainment; National Historic Road markers; Centre Market for Coleman’s Fish Market and other fun shops; Center-Barbara, Dan, Me, Debbie

From Wheeling we traveled along National Byway 40, National Historic Road, and begin our trek back in time, starting among the hilly roads cascading through Pennsylvania and the small towns George Washington protected during the French and Indian War. The forest thickens as we pass over the Allegheny Mountains and towns begin to thin out. As we roll west into Maryland the colonial red brick homes, churches with tall spires, and farmlands reappear with the forest falling into the background. College Park, The Hotel at University of Maryland, is our destination for the next few days to visit with our son, Matthew, to celebrate his 18th birthday.

While Matthew was finishing his first week of the semester at UMD, Dan and I tooled around Chesapeake Bay. We began with breakfast on Kent Island overlooking the Bay, then continued north along the Delmarva peninsula (Delaware, Maryland, Virginia) toward Chesapeake City, a 19th century town restored to its original appearance. Passing salt marshlands, fishing boats, and large clap board sided homes, our path north maneuvered in and out of the finger-like inlets and historic villages.

Clockwise: Kent Island; Chesapeake City; Crabs in and on everything

For Matthew’s 18th Birthday weekend we symbolically celebrated his independence into adulthood in the city of independence-Philadelphia. For it was in this town the first rumblings of rebellion began and the declaration of independence occurred in 1776. After becoming accustomed to the pungent odor of the city, we toured, on foot, the Old City, and the historical beginnings of our nation. The American Revolution Museum claimed the majority of our day, but lunch at the City Tavern and our walking tour rounded out the day of independence, culminating in a celebratory dinner at Butcher and Singer.

Top left: Geno’s/Pats Cheese Steaks; Walking tour of Philly; 18th birthday celebration at Butcher and Singer; Once Upon a Nation, short oral historical stories around Old City

At this point, we are seven weeks into our journey, approximately half way. With the beginnings of fall showing itself, Dan and I have decided to take in the fall colors in New England, starting with New York next week.

Birdies and Bourbon

Peru, Indiana was our first night out of Michigan, and we played 9-holes at a rustic golf course and Harvest Host. I call it rustic because this course displayed more tall blonde grasses and natural flora than the last one we visited, which had artfully arranged groupings of plantings and flowers. Deep among the backroads, only country sounds kept us company for the two hours we played. For dinner we ventured into the downtown area and tried a 5-star rated restaurant, which I rarely see, by TripAdvisor (Voodoo Public House). The décor and atmosphere were artsy with a hint of Venice Beach funk, but the food reflected the chef’s true culinary talents by the sophisticated flavor profiles and knife skills in this elevated pub food. Dan and I shared a taco variety of such complex flavors, including roast duck and banh mi.

The next morning, we met for breakfast with a few old work friends of Dan’s, who have retired to the Noblesville area. After catching up over eggs and pancakes, we hit the road down to Kentucky, and by mid-day we were on a trolley touring Louisville-the perfect rainy-day activity. On the tour we learned of the diverse history and cultural influences woven into the fabric of Louisville creating a unique pattern for this small city.

From Louisville we followed the Blue Grass Parkway, tracing the Kentucky Bourbon Trail. The flat farmlands of the north have morphed into rolling blue grass hills the closer we move toward the Appalachian Mountains, and pines have been replaced with oaks. With the slow drawl and everything either smothered or fried, we know we are officially in the south. Our first night in Kentucky we stayed in Frankfort, ate along the Kentucky River at Bourbon on Main and listened to some live country music.

Clockwise: Breakfast with Ira, Dave, me, Dan, Cathy, Haley; trolley tour of Louisville, “if it ain’t fried, it ain’t food”; Kentucky River

Bourbon production 101 at Buffalo Trace Distillery was on the agenda for the next day where we learned the science of making, aging, and storing their caramel colored spirits; bourbon is only made in the USA. Small country towns are the anchor between the distilleries and black-fenced horse farms along the back roads of Northern Kentucky. We lunched in Bardstown at Mammy’s kitchen where Dan and I shared a Hot Brown-a rich open-faced melted sandwich created in Kentucky.

Our last night was spent in Lexington at a golf resort & spa, yet another Harvest Host dry camping spot. Because the resort was kind enough to let us park with views of the 4th green for the night, I won’t mention the name, but the course was a disappointment. This wasn’t a charming country course we’ve become accustomed to, but a large grass park and trees. Pristine greens and fairways were replaced with pocked ones, and any sounds of nature were drowned out by the semis whizzing down the freeway alongside the back nine. We did take full advantage of the clubhouse facilities before departing for the Ohio River Byway, making our way to West Virginia.

Lake Michigan Circle Tour

Sand dunes, light houses, harbors, cozy little towns, and fruit farms describes some of the sights seen on our Lake Michigan Circle Tour. We’ve replaced the mountain peaks for thick forests stretching down to the water’s edge. We left Manistique, cut north to Munising Bay, and jetted out to picture rocks along the National Lakeshore on Lake Superior, the largest fresh water lake in the world. These sandstone cliffs over 500 million years old have been stained blues, greens, yellows, reds, and golds by daily trailings of mineral rich spring water, creating permanent colored designs on the rocks. Some say water is life giving, others say, it’s destructive. To me, water is nature’s medium, staining, etching, and carving the land into one-of-a-kind masterpieces for us all to view in wonder.

After lunch we drove east to Sault Ste. Marie to observe the Soo Locks. These aquatic engineering marvels allow ships up to 1,000 feet long to descend twenty-one feet from Lake Superior down to Lake Heron without having to portage their loads. Once we arrived through the visitor’s gates, Dan made a beeline to the viewing area and flew up the two floors to see a boat in the locks. The boat left and we walked the length of the locks, but once he saw a new, even larger ship enter the locks area, we booked it back for a front row view. This huge freighter from Lake Superior was held in the locks, dropped twenty-one feet with the water, and then released out the Lake Huron side.

After we viewed the locks in action, we walked across the street and had dinner at the Locks View Restaurant where we could see ships come and go from the second-floor dining room while we ate Michigan white fish beer battered and fried with chips. I think Dan wishes we had done a boat tour of the locks instead of the rocks. This engineering marvel seems to bring the kid out in everyone.

*Painted Rocks, Lake Superior; Soo Locks, Sault Ste. Marie (ship before and after being raised from lower Lake Heron to enter the higher level of Lake Superior); my new mosquito hat.*

A short forty-five-minute drive from Sault St. Marie is the ferry dock for Mackinac Island. Early the next day, we parked in St. Ignace, boarded the ferry, and within fifteen minutes landed on the carless island in the middle of Deep Blue. Stepping off the boat, I half expected to see Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck waddling down the cobblestones, because the downtown area has that Main Street USA of Disneyland feel to it. The streets were filled with excited tourists, peddling bikes or riding in horse-drawn carriages-the only two forms of transportation used to circle the island. The cloudless sky was reflected in the crystal water and the mild weather provided a welcome pause in the humidity we picked up east of the Dakotas. We shopped, strolled, and ate our way around the tiny island, admiring the summer homes of the wealthy mainlanders. After a water-front seafood dinner, we boarded the late evening ferry for our last night in the UP.

Top Left: Walking Macinac Island, mile 0 of 8 miles; crystal blue lake water; sunset dinner over lake

Charlevoix and the lower west coast of Michigan was our destination on Tuesday. An upscale lake and marina community, allowing for the privileged set to enjoy the calm bays in their large speed boats or yachts, Charlevoix reminded me of the many Southern California beach communities (Palos Verdes, Dana Point, Marina Del Rey) that I grew up around. On our initial stroll of the downtown area, we happened upon the Harbor Master’s office in Bridge Park, and with a simple signature, they checked out beach cruisers to us for the day. With map in hand we coasted Shoreline Drive and the Mushroom Houses of the area. These are gnome-looking homes, some with thatch roofs, designed and built of original stones from the area. Only twenty minutes south of Charlevoix we were back in the country and parked in the middle of a fruit orchard by mid-day relaxing on Friske Farm and Market. After buying everything cherry, we settled in for a quiet afternoon and evening on their farm.

Bottom Left: Mackinac Bridge, biking around Charlevoix, Mushroom house of Charlevoix, chilling out at Friske Farm for the evening.

Up the next morning and following the country road, byway 31, we passed one farm with attached market after another, only broken every few miles by an inlet or bay offering every on-water activity available. Our destination on this last evening in West Michigan, along the Lake is not an upscale or must-see destination, but Shelby the location of a Harvest Host golf course and our fish boil dinner. Between the bucket list locales, we enjoy veering off the beaten path to stay at some Harvest Host destinations. They usually take us to non-touristy parts of the states where we can get a real feel for the area. Our favorites have become the farms with the multitude of edible goodies and the golf, of course. Today’s golf course (Oceana Golf Club) looked like a page out of Country Living with cherry orchards stretching alongside the greens and thoughtfully arranged floral landscaping.

We had enough time for 9-holes before our short drive to Cherry Point Farms for a traditional Norwegian fish boil, only available on Lake Michigan. Served family style we dined in the farm’s garden on long white tables with locals of the area. A thirty-gallon cauldron was set ablaze, flash boiling large baskets of white fish, potatoes, and onions. The spectacle was exciting and worth the trip. What a great way to end our last night in West Michigan. Tomorrow we will stop in Holland, MI for lunch and continue on to Indiana.

Clockwise from top: Cherry Point Farm Fish Boil; Sues, Barb, Chuck, John, and other locals who displayed pure Michigan hospitality by inviting us to dine with them at their table during the traditional Norwegian Fish Boil; sunset over dunes by Sable Point; Holland, MI

Great Plains to Great Lakes

My arms were plumb tuckered out by the 17th hole at the emerald-green country course in Mitchell, SD. I don’t know if it was the constant slapping at the mosquitoes or the fact that someone replaced my 7-iron with an old-fashioned sickle, because I seemed to be cutting grass in the rough more than anything else. We finished the day running errands and doing chores for the next morning we had a scheduled 25,000-mile service for the van. Mercedes gave us a loner car for a couple hours while they worked on our van and we ate lunch and toured the fantastic Sioux Falls and the attached multiuse park surrounding them.

Once the van was finished, we were on our way to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Along the three and a half hour drive we saw what Dan calls the three C’s of Minnesota-clouds, cows, and corn. But once we reached the city limits, Minneapolis looked just like any other big city, driving around the streets we could have been in LA, Vegas, or even Seattle. The true character of a state is held in its smaller towns, which we’ve come to love.

We started the next day at Mall of America-the largest mall in USA. After a three and half mile stroll, circling four levels of every retail chain known and gimmicky tourist restaurant available, we left the big city outside of St. Paul and picked up the start of the Great River Road, scenic byway 61, following the Mississippi River down to La Crosse, Wisconsin. At lunchtime we pulled into an overlook at Lake Pepin and watched bald eagles soaring above looking for their own meal while we listened to Huckleberry Finn on Spotify. In Wabasha we stopped at the Eagle Preservation Institute and witnessed more eagles soaring above the banks of Ole Miss.

Bottom left: Golfing before the mosquitoes got us; Sioux Falls, Mall of America, Minnesota; Eagle preserve along Mississippi watching eagles above

Once in La Crosse we drove to the river’s edge to buy tickets for the next morning’s riverboat cruise and happened upon a concert in the park. We parked along the water, pulled out our chairs and enjoyed the 80’s revival band, ate good food, and engaged in lively conversation with a few locals who gave us suggestions on routes and stops. The next morning, we reluctantly left the Great River Road and its quant towns for the cooler weather in Upper Peninsula, Michigan. We drove directly across Wisconsin, passing one corn field and red barn after another, only stopping to sample cheese and squeaky curds, until we settled in the lakeside town of Fish Creek of Door County, Wisconsin.

Door County is called “The Cape Cod of the Midwest.” Lying between Green Bay and Lake Michigan, this lushly forested peninsula is laced with unique shops, galleries, privately owned restaurants, golf courses, spas, and farms selling fresh produce. In Huckleberry Finn speak, “a body could easily spend a week here ‘bouts.” Door County is our start of the Lake Michigan Circle Tour, which will take us through the Upper Peninsula and down through the state along the Eastside of Lake Michigan.

Top Right: Wisconsin; American Duchess on Mississippi in La Crosse, WI; *Door County-cherries*; Amish riding on country roads across Wisconsin

Breakfast with the Presidents

As we relax in our van behind Naked Winery South Dakota and Sick-N-Twisted Brewing Company, our Harvest Host spot for the evening, I can hear the faint baritone rumbling of a Harley engine in the street way out left and the rambling stream on my right-the true essence of our first day in South Dakota. We are in the Black Hills National Forest during the last weekend of Sturgis 2019, and it’s all about the bikes.

We traded Buffalo, Wy and the rolling hills of sage brush for undulating grassy plains just outside South Dakota. Highway 14 enters the Black Hills NF through Spearfish Canyon. The black-green ponderosa pines and bright green dogwood trees keep us company on this peaceful drive, occasionally teased with a glimmer off Spearfish Creek. Have we driven onto a Hollywood western filmset? A turn in the road toward Deadwood, SD seems to confirm it so.

We are using a new app called Just Ahead (not as good as Gypsy) for our tour through South Dakota. A suggested stop at Cheyanne Crossing for an Indian Taco has temporarily secured its place on my phone. We are missing good Mexican food or something with some spice. This Native American version hit the spot.

Two- and three-wheel motor bikes are swarming all over the Black Hills and not just at the Sturgis Rally. We ended our first day playing Jenga, and sampling beer and wine at the tasting room. We learned from Kim Livingston about IBUs, the bitterness rating assigned to IPAs. I prefer ratings in the 15-point range, like their doppleblock, where some people like Dipa Imperial IPAs with a rating of 102.7. We had dinner and I purchased a couple hard ginger beers for the road before retiring streamside for the evening. Thanks, Kim, for a fun way to end our day.

Indian taco at Cheyenne Crossing, Deadwood/Sturgis 2019, Naked Winery SD & Sick-N-Twisted Brewery

Sunrise came early the next morning, bringing with it low-lying fog and the sweet butterscotch aroma from the bark of the Ponderosa Pines. We opted for the sunrise viewing of Mount Rushmore. There is a 9pm lighting viewing each evening, but we knew less people would be at the monument early, and we were right; we had the entire park to ourselves. The early morning sun casted a golden glow on the granite faces. With each turn on the Presidential Trail we viewed every angle of the human-made marvel that is, Mount Rushmore.

On our drive south we glimpsed the work-in-progress, Crazy Horse, and stopped at Wind Cave National Park to feel the tunnel entrance, inhale/exhale in response to the barometric pressure outside. The second highlight of the day, though, was a visit to The Mammoth Site in Hot Springs. This is an in-situ exhibit of more than sixty mammoth fossils and other extinct animals over twenty thousand years old found by accident when a real estate developer was bulldozing an unsightly mound in the area. For a very reasonable fee we were given a guided tour of the in-progress excavation. This was well worth the drive and cleverly presented, comparative to the costly touristy options around.

We followed the prairie and rolling hills of the wildlife loop around Custer State Park on the drive back to our campsite at Center Lake. The short eleven-mile drive remined me of a mini version of Yellowstone NP. I later read that many of the animals we spotted today were indeed transplants from Yellowstone and Glacier NP, purposely relocated to create an animal preserve. Halfway through the drive we witnessed a bison stampede of about sixty bison running for cover under the thick canopy and within ten minutes a freak hail storm swept through the area, dropping the temperature more than twenty degrees; another ten minutes and the skies were dry.

Mount Rushmore at sunrise, The Mammoth site in Hot Springs, SD, Cuter State Park Wildlife Loop

Day three started with a drive along Ironwood Highway, offering framed vistas of Mount Rushmore through the Granite Rock Tunnels. Our final destination was Sylvan Lake for the hiking trail to Black Elk Peak, a must do for any hikers out there. This 7-mile roundtrip trail took us to the highest summit between The Pyrenees Mountains in France and the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. We were rewarded with a 360-degree view of the Black Hills, Wyoming, Montana, and Nebraska. We lunched at Sylvan Lake Lodge and lounged by the lake shore for the rest of the afternoon.

Ironwood Highway, Sylvan Lake, Black Elk Peak

We left the Sioux Lakota Black Hills through Rapid City with the deer and wild turkeys coming to the roadside to say their good byes, and quickly toured the loop of the Badlands National Park and its many impressive overlooks. The sedimental pinnacles are layered sand castles in a sea of prairie grass lapping in the wind against their bases. I’m glad we had a chance to witness these unusual formations because like the glaciers, they dissolve a little more each year. From the Badlands NP we were pushed by the wind east on the I-90 for the Wild Oak Golf Club in Mitchell, SD, our Harvest Host spot for the evening. After 18-holes tomorrow morning, we have an appointment in Souix Falls, SD, the only Mercedes service center in hundreds of miles, for a routine service on our Sprinter. After Souix Falls we still haven’t decided if we are traveling North around the Great Lakes or South.

Yellowstone and Grand Tetons

Yellowstone and Grand Tetons were our first exposure to America’s National Park system a little over two years ago; that is when we caught the VanLife bug. We were traveling with a 15 ½ year old Matthew at the time, who drove us the entire length from California. While zipping throughout the figure-eight, we saw various self-contained vans pulled off the side of the road, relaxing, scanning for wildlife, fishing, etc. We knew then and there that was how we wanted to travel, if for any extended length of time in the National Parks; thus, our FreeWheeling adventure plans were born.

Back in Yellowstone, we still marvel at the diverse ecosystems. Similar to Banff and Jasper, here we glimpse life before human inhabitants, naturally wild. The first trip, two years ago, we did all the must-see sights; so, this time we decided to slow our roll and concentrate on the lower half of the Park. Sitting above an ancient caldera, hundreds of thousands of years old, the south loop to this day displays unreal geo- and hydrothermal activity. This is evidenced at every bend in the road with bubbling mud pots, geysers, fumaroles, or steaming hot springs.

Day two we hiked on a popular trail (Taggart Lake) down in our old stomping grounds by Jenny Lake Lodge, a small resort at the foot of the Grand Tetons. Adding to the magical memories from our first trip, we stayed for a lovely dinner and drove back to Lewis Lake during twilight.

Day three we took to the water for a scenicruise around grand Yellowstone Lake, had lunch at Yellowstone Lake Hotel, and spent the afternoon relaxing and eating dinner along the Yellowstone river just like the other van-dwellers we saw two years previously.

Amazing what life brings to you when you slow down or even stop for awhile.

We saved the best for our last day–the Southwest Loop. With more than half the geothermals, specifically geysers, of the entire world, touring the Southwest Loop of Yellowstone is out of this world. In Jasper NP, specifically Glacier Parkway, I felt like we were visiting from a different era–the end of the ice age; here, in Yellowstone, it’s like we are on a different planet. The hot springs with rainbow colored bacterial mats, the hard-boiled egg smells, and the steaming spouts are unbelievable, almost apocalyptic.

We made it to the 8:00am showing of Old Faithful, eating our mixed berry pecan steal cut oats and drinking our coffee/tea. The crowds were thin at the early morning seating and throughout the boardwalk while we circled the other geysers and hot springs.

Once we left the carpark, we noticed the streets were filling fast. We bypassed overflowing carparks at sights we visited two years ago and opted for the less popular outlets, which is where we discovered the Firehole Canyon Drive. A quite side road with little traffic, tracing the Firehole River. After lunch we took a dip at an allotted section of the river where the hot spring run-off meets the cooler fresh water. This was a perfect way to wash off the heat and sulfuric smell of the day in the swirling warm current.

After an outdoor shower at our van and fresh clothes change, we hit the road east. Instead of returning to our camp an hour south at Lewis Lake, we opted to get a head start of the next day’s drive toward Mount Rushmore and camped just outside the east end of the Park in Shoshone NF. Tomorrow we follow the North Fork of the Shoshone, highway 14, to Sheridan, Wy.

Hanging Glaciers to A Supervolcano

The Columbia Golf Trail, a long green valley with access points to the British Columbia and Alberta National Parks, is studded with golf courses every few miles. We chose Copper Point Golf Resort because it’s a Harvest Host dry camping spot along the Trail and allowed us a full day of golf and relaxation at an exquisitely groomed course just below the Radium Hot Springs’ entrance of the Kootenay National Park. We had originally thought about staying 2 or even 3 days along the trail, but other than golf, which we had our fill of for a few days, there wasn’t much more to do. Most of the restaurants were pub food, and the two we tried were not very good, plus, the hiking paled in comparison to the National Parks; so, the next day, we decided to move on.

Three hours south of Radium Hot Springs and we were back in Whitefish, Montana, USA, with better food and $2.00/gallon cheaper gas (Average price of diesel $2.89/gal). Retreading seemed to be the theme for us in Kalispell, just south of Whitefish. I needed a new pair of hiking shoes and our van needed four new tires. I guess thousands of pounds of weight and miles of wear was too much for the factory installed treads. Maneuvering in the 90-degree heat of Kalispell urged us to rethink our original plan to cut through the middle of Montana toward Mount Rushmore. During our trip we have accumulated a few extra days here and there. With that extra time, and, in true FreeWheeling style, we decided to detour for a few days to the cooler Yellowstone & Grand Tetons National Parks on our way to Mount Rushmore.

On the East side of Glacier National Park, we picked up Scenic Byway 89 and cruised this lightly traveled route, jamming to our favorite tunes on Spotify, from Glacier to the North Entrance of Yellowstone, averaging 65 mph the entire 10-hour journey. Since I’m talking figures, I’ll throw out there that our average gas mileage has been 22 mpg. Halfway down the 89 we camped overnight near a creek in the cooler Lewis and Clark National Forest.

Without any reservations, trying to camp in Yellowstone during prime time would typically be risky, but what’s an adventure without a little risk, right? We had Gypsy Guide touring along the way as we traversed the hordes of visitors on the east side of the Park to the south end in search of a rumored camping spot. At 3:30 we looped the Lewis Lake campground and snagged the last site. Too small for most RVs, only a small van like ours or a car camper could fit the spot, which we guess was the reason it was still available. More than a few times our small size has worked in our favor because we are able to squeeze into any car-size space. We love being pocket size.

In the time that I’ve written this blog post, during the quiet hours of the evening, a storm has whipped in and out of our area, bringing with it the southing pitter-patter of drops on our tin rooftop. I write as Dan reads and the rain lulls us into a still slumber. Good night, for tomorrow we explore.

The Canadian Rockies

The Canadian Rockies, while similar in geography to Glacier National Park, is in a league all its own with untamed, pristine beauty frozen in time. The first part of our stay we explored Banff National Park, including the three iconic glacial fed lakes: Louise, Emerald, and Moraine. While we enjoyed the views from a six-mile hike to the tea house high above the milky sage colored Lake Louise for a cuppa and some scones, and later lounged on its banks, resting our weary muscles, it was Emerald Lake that stole our hearts. Maybe it was the rustic lodge with its plush leather chairs that beckoned us in for the view of the jewel-toned lake with our lunch or the serine environment, sans the masses and tedious shuttle busses that we experienced at the other two silty bodies of water. Emerald lodge serves Rocky Mountain Cuisine, which I would describe as similar to that of the lodge, elevated quality with rustic influence. After lunch we looped the lake, taking in the beauty from all angles.

Lake Louise; we hiked to the tiny speck in middle of forest

The Gypsy Guide App directed us to the equally as beautiful, yet less chaotic Yoho National Park for sites skipped by many other park dwellers. We spent the day following his suggestions, which always afforded exceptional sites and a unique experience. There was even one time we were driving back to our base camp and Gypsy Guide said to look up along the train tracks because it’s common to see bears feeding off of the spilled grain, and, I kid you not, a momma and her two cubs were galloping along the tracks right on cue. Now, how did he do that?

Day three was spent at a relaxed pace, touring Banff townsite, golfing at the Fairmont Banff Springs, and lunching along the Bow River – a nice reprieve from the first two busy days. The next day we decided to drive north, away from the crowds, toward Jasper and stopped at a brand-new campsite along the Icefields Parkway (Silverhorn). After cruising the sites, we picked a prime spot next to the babbling creek with views of towering mountains and hanging glaciers. A few miles before the campground, we pulled into a suggested photo op stop of Peyto lake. Here we could follow the glacial stream water right from its source, feeding the aqua blue lake. I don’t think Crayola makes a crayon this color.

It’s 4:30pm. As I sit here writing this blog entry let me describe to you my surroundings. Perched on our plush King wide bed, both back doors and side slider are fully opened, completely screened – of course, wafting the sweet mountain air in and through the van. Dances with Wolves CD is playing on the blu ray, but not too loud as to drown out the tumbling Silverhorn Creek running past our backyard or my Man working out back on the fire. The wall to wall windows in the Van allow for 300-degree views, binging the outdoors in while we enjoy the modern amenities we are accustomed to. Tonight, we’re having apple cider bison sausages on the open-wood grill, along with other fresh fruits and veggies we picked up at the store before our trek northbound. This is my kind of camping!

Today we beat the crowds to the Columbia Icefields – the halfway point to Jasper townsite. Camping this far north on the Parkway gave us a one-hour head start from others departing the Banff or Lake Louise area. As soon as we left the Banff National Park and entered into Jasper National Park the geography dramatically changed. No longer are the mountains lined with mature pine-forests, meadows filled with wildflowers, or sweeping displays of vegetation; the landscape is stark, draped only with glaciers and high-alpine fur. We’ve stepped back in time. Just standing on the edge of a glacier, we’re witnessing history. The glacier melt trickling down the face to meet the stream below could be from snow fall over one hundred or more years ago. To gain a better perspective we took a popular hike in the area called Wilcox for a birds’ eye view of Athabasca Glacier, the one we walked to earlier in the morning. There we met and chatted with Jenny F., her husband, and their friends visiting from Tennessee, who were nice enough to offer up a spot on the property of their mountain home in the Great Smokies for us to park after we told them of our travel plans to the area.

The quant railroad town of Jasper, about one hour north of the Icefields, has a little more casual, laid-back feel than Banff, but similar in appearance. The surrounding landscape, though, is quite different. The naked mountain tops are scarred from eons of glacial ware, and at first blush the thick pine forests appear to be changing in color, like one would expect to see with some trees during autumn, but we later learned that the yellow and brown evergreens are evidence of the tiny pine beetle devastating the mature forest.

Hike Around Maligne Lake, Bull Elk, Dan’s Mosquito Abatement Outfit

After two days of hiking with the mosquitos and sightseeing, we found ourselves back down south at our favorite spot by Silverhorn Creek. But on our last evening in Jasper we took a long twilight soak in the open-air Miette Hot Springs. While crowded with other heat seekers, the views of the surrounding mountains were spectacular. I can only guess how cool it would be to soak under the field of stars from the late-night sky. Tomorrow we leave the Canadian Rockies for the Columbia Valley Golf Trail for some golf and relaxation at the Copper Point Golf Resort, then it’s back to Whitefish, Montana where we turn East toward Mount Rushmore.