Bad news is usually more interesting than good. The rant probably does me good, while you can secretly rejoice because it did not happen to you.
Not much on the first part of our journey to revisit the Florida Panhandle, if you don’t count the dreary freeway drive which is the inevitable first part of a trip south.
We demolished the Canadian Thanksgiving turkey, said goodbye and left that week. Pinery Provincial Park for the first stop saved us from having a morning rush. Maybe we could take a couple of days to enjoy the Fall colours and a walk on the wonderful Lake Huron beach.
It rained, so we hustled south the next day.
This first part of the journey is always tiresome. Largely on freeways infested with trucks, Michigan roads that always need work, and it rained. With stops in Indiana and Kentucky the sun came out and we felt invincible As we passed through Jackson, Tennessee, I observed that this was a good place for another spark plug to blow out, since we knew a good mechanic there who fixed one last Spring.
But we breezed through Tennessee and pulled off the ramp to the Mississippi “Welcome Center” in Corinth. A huge explosion we had come to recognize, and indeed another plug had blown out. Chugged the last few yards to the rest stop and contemplated our next move.
After the devil had blown out the plug, an angel took over. The Mississippi welcome lady directed us to an arena just over the road and established we could stay in their RV area.
We had this to ourselves, and it was only a big patch of gravel, with a view of the woods on one side and the back of the arena on the other. But it had a 30-amp plug-in and water tap, and we could stay the night. Zero security, but we are natural optimists.
The marvelous welcome lady’s husband was a mechanic, just half a mile away, and he had the kit to re-thread the cylinder head and put in a new plug and coil. Reasonably priced and by lunchtime next day, a little poorer, we were on our way south to the Trace State Park near Tupelo.
Three quiet and warm days with a wonderful spot right on a lake, and the weather warm enough for us to sit out and enjoy the passing herons and other wildlife.
We knew we were in the South when we saw the neighbour’s flags, but we were wise enough not to engage in any political discussion. “Which side were you on?” they ask. The diplomatic answer is: “We are Canadians and did not join in.” This is not strictly true, since some Canadians helped out on both sides, driven by a mixture of political conviction and financial interest. But one avoids long discussions on these matters … even more so on the Revolutionary War!!
More bad news and good news coming next.
John, with the usual help from Elaine.