Moving Again

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We have mentioned before that we have little in the way of materials to work with here in the Park due to budget constraints. But never fear, resourceful Volunteers are here! Fort Yargo Park is named for a Fort built here on this spot back in 1792 to help defend a small colony of settlers. The Fort is still here in an area by the lake, along with a separate out-door kitchen and a recent addition of a small smoke-house built in a rustic manner to blend with the old fort. The first picture shows the old Fort.

Some week-ends during the summer, volunteers dressed in period clothing go about working at the Fort in ways common to the time: weaving baskets, making tools etc.. As I am sure you are aware, old Forts have no bathrooms. To keep visitors from having to walk or drive to another area to use the facilities, the Park decided to put in a Port-A-Potty. They placed one at the edge of the woods, on the rise above the parking area.

Problem---it is bright blue. It certainly doesn’t blend well with an old Fort atmosphere. The Park wanted to do something to correct this situation. But what? Just painting it wouldn’t do. It should be disguised in some way. But no money is available.

Volunteers to the rescue! I and Verna, another Host, got the task. We decided to build a three-sided fence to cover and hide the Potty from the road and parking area view. We found some 4x4 posts we could use that were ten feet long. Fine. We would make a fence that stands seven feet high. That should hide it. The second picture above shows Verna using the circular saw, in the Shop at the Park, to make notches in the posts for the cross rails.

OK. That takes care of the skeleton, now what are we going to cover it with. Another search begins. No plywood seems to be available. We found some old half-inch paneling that had been ripped out of some building. It was not in good shape. But, then again, paneling would not look good on the out-side even if it is rustic. OK, maybe we can turn it over to use the back-side. Well, it still looks like plywood, not very appealing. We don’t want to have to paint it. What else can we do? Humm! Maybe we can cut it up. Yeah! Let’s make strips out of it about eight inches wide and hang it in a ship-lap fashion, like the new smoke-house is made. OK! We did. The second picture is of our creation. I know, it doesn’t look like much, but you can’t see the Port-A-Potty! When it “weathers” it should blend right in with the woods. Mission accomplished. See picture number 3.

Now, look at picture number four. Strange looking things? These have been put together in the Shop. What do you think they are? Maybe it will help if I describe them. First, there is a sphere with 24 holes. Into each of these holes is glued a piece of ½”, schedule 40, PVC pipe, 32” long. Does that help any? No? Well, what if I tell you that onto two of these pieces will be glued a tee that is first stuck through a hole in a brick. Does that give you any clue. Well, maybe I have to tell you that after they do all this, they drop them in the lake.

“Sure“, you say, “now I know what it is. I just can‘t think of what you call it.” Well, what we call it is a fish attractor. Yep, that’s right. They place them in areas where most fishing occurs. They sink to the bottom, thanks to the weight of the bricks, and stay in place aided by all the pipes that fill with water. Over time, algae forms on the outside of the pipes and fish gather to feed. Thusly, fishermen have a better chance of finding something on the end of their hooks, and the slick pipes aid in keeping the hooks from snagging as they would on natural limbs.

The last picture shows two very special people. Now I don’t know there names. Although I stop often to talk with them I just haven‘t thought to ask there names. What they are doing walking the roads is collecting trash that has been carelessly discarded by park visitors. They do this five days a week, voluntarily. The road you see them on now runs from the entry of the Park to the beach, a distance of some mile and a half one way. The other road they cover goes from the entry to the campground, two miles one way.

They live across the road from the Park and up one tenth of a mile. They have been doing this for the Park for the past 13 years. They keep a record of their walking and have calculated that they have now walked some 4,800 miles picking up litter. Good for them! I’m sure it helps keep them young.

I have indicated often how much I like to read. You may also remember that I am something of a history buff. One of my favorite characters in our American history is Benjamin Franklin. There is a book you can find on the Internet, free to download, titled The True Benjamin Franklin, by Sydney George Fisher, published in 1898. A most interesting read. I also found three of the five volumes of his writings that can be downloaded.

As you may also know, Ben published a newspaper in Philadelphia called The Pennsylvania Gazette. I have included a couple excerpts here. I think you will find it interesting, as I did. Notice the spelling and abbreviated words. You will notice that it seemed to be the practice in 18th Century America to capitalize every noun in a sentence, not just proper nouns. They had a “funny” way of speaking, as you will note, but the humor is there. A trade-mark of old Ben. It appears also to be the trade-mark of “young” Ben. At the time of these writings, he was only 23 years old. He had only two years of formal “schooling,” when he was eight and nine years old. He later acquired five honorary Doctor Degrees. Ben wrote:

"One Piles a Fidler"
And sometime last Week, we are informed, that one Piles a Fidler, with his Wife, were overset in a Canoo near Newtown Creek. The good Man, 'tis said, prudently secur'd his Fiddle, and let his Wife go to the Bottom.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, October 16, 1729

A Gallant Duel and an Unhappy Man
Saturday last, about nine o'Clock in the Morning two young Hibernian Gentlemen met on Society Hill, and fought a gallant Duel before a Number of Spectators not very usual on such Occasions. The Cause of their Quarrel is it seems unknown; and as they were parted without much Difficulty, and neither of them received any considerable Hurt, it is generally looked upon to be only a Piece of Theatrical Representation.

The same Day an unhappy Man one Sturgis, upon some Difference with his Wife, determined to drown himself in the River; and she, (kind Wife) went with him, it seems, to see it faithfully performed, and accordingly stood by silent and unconcerned during the whole Transaction: He jump'd in near Carpenter's Wharff, but was timely taken out again, before what he came about was thoroughly effected, so that they were both obliged to return home as they came, and put up for that Time with the Disappointment.

The Pennsylvania Gazette, February 10, 1729/30

As I write, we are still in Georgia. Come Sunday morning, August 30th we will be heading back to Tennessee. Carolyn’s knee replacement is scheduled for September 9th. Debbie, our daughter, will be flying in from California after Carolyn’s surgery to help out for a week. That will be great. While in Tennessee, we will be at the same RV Park as before, Shady Acres in Lebanon, through October. We’ll let you know how it all turns out.

Heritage makes the person; Attitude makes the life.

Recouped

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While we were back in Tennessee last month for my back surgery, we discovered that we needed two new tires on the front of the truck. We had taken it to the Chevrolet dealer and discovered that the tires had worn because of the need for alignment. We didn’t have time for the alignment then, and the dealer didn’t have the tires in stock. They recommended that we go next door to Discount Tire and see what they had. We did, and a few days later bought the tires and returned to the dealer to have them aligned.

Some days later we noticed a bad shaking and vibration in the truck. We thought that something was out of balance. We went to another Discount Tire in another city in Tennessee and asked if they would look at the tires to see what was wrong. Although the four back tires were not their tires, they checked them as well. They told me that all six tires were out of balance, but the inside, back tire was flat from two nails and a screw. They repaired the tire that was flat and balanced all six tires. No charge for the service. So, when you need new tires, check out Discount Tire.

OK! Now that you have had the commercial, let’s get on with the show.

We left Tennessee on July 7th and made our way back to Fort Yargo State Park in Georgia where our tenure as hosts was interrupted by my little-ole surgery. The trip was uneventful but by the time we arrived at the Park it looked like rain. We had already encountered rain in northern Georgia, so we were in a hurry to get set up before the “bottom fell out.”

The clouds were getting darker as we approached our campsite in Picnic Area 2. As we began our approach up the rock road to out campsite we discovered that a vehicle was setting in front of our site blocking our entry. It is not a parking place, but someone had made it one and was nowhere to be seen. I stopped our rig, got out, and began looking around for the driver. I found a couple down by the lake taking pictures. I asked if they belonged to the vehicle parked in our way. They did. So I asked if they would mind moving it. He did, but not without remarking that he didn’t see a sign that said “No Parking.” He was not real happy at having to move.

By the time I got the rig in position to back into our camping slot, liquid was beginning to descend from the heavens. Gentle at first, then more forceful. In just a few minutes the “bottom” did its famous “falling out.” My mirrors fogged up so I could hardly see were I was backing. I had to get in and out of the truck to check my position often, while Carolyn was standing out in the pouring rain with lightening flashing about helping direct me. She finally said to me, “I’m not standing out here in this lightening. Let’s wait.” I, being stubborn, as I am at times, wanted to get the rig settled before it got so muddy that it would be difficult to get it in place. By the time we did get it in place we were both soaked.

Since we had been gone new hosts had arrived in the campground, so there were new people to meet and work with. Nothing much has changed to the work that needed to be done, but less money is available from the State for materials. So it became the same hunt and search for scrap material to build and repair with. As I told the Park Manager the other day, “We have worked for so long, with so little; we are now qualified to do anything with nothing.”

Carolyn is continuing to work in the Park Office and Trading Post as needed. I am still finding things to build and repair as well as teaching my Spanish class to Park personnel. The first picture above is the Nature Center used for nature presentations of flora and fauna. The second picture is a room in the Center where I hold class.

At least, since our return the night bird that kept us awake off-and-on is no longer sounding off. The Park has also gotten rid of a lot of ducks that made much noise and pooped everywhere. They thin the numbers every year. Now there are only the average types of birds hopping about. By the way, have you ever wondered how a bird finds a worm underground? Here's how: When a bird stands on the ground near a worm that is crawling underneath, it can feel the earth's vibrations with its very sensitive feet. It will also position its head to put into operation the low frequency apparatus of its ears. Then, when it zeroes in on the worm, it pierces the earth with a sudden stab of its beak, grabs the tasty morsel and gobbles it up, or takes it to it‘s young.

Speaking of animals, I guess you call birds animals, or do you? You know that a group of horses is a “herd” and a group of birds is a “flock,” but do you remember that a group of cows is a “kine?” A group of alligators is a “congregation,” a group of caterpillars is an “army,” a group of butterflies is a “flutter,” a group of crows is a “murder,” and a group of cockroaches is an “intrusion.” Boy, they sure got that last one right!

Summer is a very busy time in the State Park as I’m sure you can imagine. The third picture illustrates one of the more popular activities at the Park, fishing. No, I don’t know who the fisherman is.
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This weekend, being the start of a new month, we are changing hosts again. Two couples have left, two new ones are coming in. Last week we all got together (nine of us at the time) for a cookout at the campsite of one of the hosts. Everyone furnished something. We enjoyed both the food and the fellowship. Picture number four is of the couple hosting the cookout in the center, as well as others in the foreground. The last picture is of two of the hosts, Verna and Vivian with Carolyn in the middle.

Not much adventure to share this month. So I’ll wow you with words. Some of you may know that the first thing I read in news each day is the cartoons. To me, it is the only sane thing in the news. I have always enjoyed cartoons, having been an art major and cartoonist in high school. In this regard, have you wondered what those symbols that represent profanity in cartoon bubbles (#@$%!) are called? The word for it is “grawlix.” It was coined back in 1964 by Mort Walker the cartoonist of “Beetle Bailey” and “Hi and Lois.” Also, the word for the wiggly line representing shaking in drawings is called “agitrons.”

If you want to read about a real adventure, continue reading. The following is written by the son of a long-time friend. The son, the author, lives in Alaska. I guess it proves that more goes on in Alaska than politics. Enjoy!
Remember, Heritage makes the person; Attitude makes the life.

Rainy Day by Andre Martin

# I have bad weather-luck. Nearly every excursion I undertake is met with rain or snow blowing sideways. The following account will demonstrate thus. The setting- Fall time on the giant, rugged Chichagof Island at the north end of the Alexander Archipelago. The temperate rain forest panhandle of Alaska . The people- besides me, my Blackfoot Indian friend Jim. The hardest worker I have ever known. That’s saying a lot because this is a state full of loggers, miners, fisherman and oil workers. He had ten years on me and could out work me to death. He was also a professional drinker. Although, he never called in sick or came in late no matter how hung-over he was. He often stumbled into my bunkhouse room late at night to declare his brotherly love. He grew up bucking horses for a living in Montana. Or sent out into the Rockies for two weeks alone to round up stray cattle. His nose was bent one way and his jaw the other. A born scraper, would never back down from any fight. We worked together at the cold storage throwing fish at each other in the 40 below freezers.

After a few debacles taking cheechakos (white men new to the country) on bush-whacking hikes I stopped going with just anybody into the wild. But Jim could handle himself and teach me a thing or two. So we often left our warm women to explore treacherous country together. The fastest back-packing I have ever done is when he would run out of cigarettes and we would b-line back to town.

We had a good friend in Chris. A hard working, intelligent, cheerful guy in his late twenties. He was from Santa Cruz but had some experience hiking in the Sierras. He noticed Jim and I prepping for a trip and begged “take me, take me!” We said “ Do you know what happened to the last guy that came with us?” “We had to radio the Coast Guard to helicopter his butt to safety.” (true story) We agreed to let him come but after this one trip he never asked again.

We set off into the dark forest behind the amphibious, boardwalk fishing town of Pelican (pop. 300). Nestled halfway down the Lisiasnski Inlet. Don’t tell anyone but this is the most beautiful place in Alaska and probably the planet. Wet emerald mountains, waterfall draped cliffs descending directly into the dark depths. A cold, dark, and deep fjord 1 mile wide and 35 mile long filled with life. Kayaking I have seen starfish 6 feet across, 20 ft. long Lions Mane jellyfish, and schools of herring that take 3 days to pass. Watched in awe as Humpback Whales did full, out of the water, breaches. Counted 50 Bald Eagles in the sky at once. Paddled with lively Orcas, friendly, brown eyed Seals, cute as hell Sea Otters, and intimidating, Stellar Sea Lions.

We back-packed into the old growth. I hear tell of trail hikers doing 15+ miles a day. Let me tell you on this island you would be doing well to make 6 miles a day in the summer, half that in winter. No trails except those made by bear or deer. Massive Douglas fir and Sitka spruce shadow the quite, mossy valley floor. Underneath a tangled maze of blueberry bushes, willows, alders, and devils club . A prolific thorny plant that is as much fun as it sounds.

We followed Pelican creek valley into the island. The basin is only 5 miles long and 1 mile wide. Surrounded by 4,000 ft mountains rising like walls on three sides. After the fifth mile the creek makes a 90 degree turn and becomes an impassable ravine with 50 ft. waterfalls. Every stream on the island does this. As if to hide their sources as best they can. High alpine lakes with colors that would make emeralds and sapphires embarrassed.

The first day we hiked a few miles in. Staying in the big timber following deer trails as best we could. Crossed two small creeks without getting our feet wet. There’s a memorable tree about a mile from town I always liked to show newcomers. I stop next to a 4 ft wide trunk with a solid mass of sticky, sweet smelling sap covering all the bark. Usually gets an “ah-cool!” After they poke and gawk for a minute and are ready to proceed, I look them in the face and point upwards. Their eyes get quite large as they realize the source of all this sap. Row upon row of deep vertical gouges. The lowest of them higher than a tall man can reach. A Brown Bear sign post years in the making. This prehistoric forest is guarded with tooth and claw by giant, furry druids.

We camped that night next to a tree so large the first branch is 150 ft above and the trunk a 6 ft wide wall next to us. Pelican creek, crystal clear and cold about 20 ft across and 2 ft deep filled with fresh snow melt murmurs nearby. The weather was perfect that night. Clear, dark sky brimming with stars partially visible through the tree tops.

However, when we emerged from the tent in the morning it was raining, hard.
After eating some oats with blueberries we left the tent and packs to explore the perimeter for an hour or so. Instantly soaked to the bone Not just from fat rain drops but mainly from trying to dry the brush off with our bodies. Arriving back at camp to see the fire pit and sagging tent in the middle of a 15 ft wide puddle. Did not bother with making a fire. Attempting to make a fire in a rain forest during a down pore requires way to much effort and lots of white gas.

We sat next to the creek to decide what to do. We had originally wanted to bag a peak that day. The stratums was down to the tree tops, discouraging that option. That’s when we noticed the creek was now 3 feet deep and rising. Visibly swelling as we watched. So the decision was obvious to us now. This mission is scrubbed! Time to make a quick retreat, like the French fleeing Moscow.

It became the most intense hike of our lives. The return trip, which the day before took only a few hours, will take all day. Barely making it home by dark. Instead of meandering back and forth looking for deer trails, we take a compass heading and charge straight through all obstacles as best we can. On the topo map the valley looks flat, but the terrain is anything but. Stout brush and devils club that is sometimes completely impenetrable. Also, when a 300 ft. tall tree falls it creates an astounding mess of things. Not only is the trunk itself a sizable barrier but it brings down a half dozen of its neighbors with it. A tangled mass a city block wide and taller than a house. After 20 minutes of trying to scramble around one tends to become frustrated. Even Luis and Clark would have shouted “Holy Hell!” In the whole valley you can’t go more than ten feet without reevaluating your next move. Left, right, up, down, over, under, around, and the worst, backwards. So it’s a route finding challenge even on a good day.

Today though, something was happening we had never seen before. The relentless down pore and the roar of the creeks surrounded us with an enormity of sound. Hiking in a full bath tub with the shower on. As the hours passed the woods began to transform into a different place all together. The wide tree trunks became conduits of water. Half inch deep streams on all sides running down from the canopy. There’s only a few feet of topsoil over bedrock so the water was pooling fast. Every dip in the forest floor was now under 3 feet of water. The small valley was quickly filling up.

When we arrived at the first of two creek crossings we could not believe our eyes. Yesterday you could walk through it without it going over your ankles. Not even 10 ft wide. Behold, thundering white water 5 ft deep and spilling its banks into the forest, 30 yards wide. The booming sound of boulders rolling down stream. Floating logs and detritus adding to the velocity. So now the fun was very much over. Stranded, cut off, no way out. Hypothermia looming as the situation dawns on us. We are now devoted to survival.

Scouting up, then down stream for a way to cross. We found our only option. Climbing over a log jam. With boot laces tightened we tentatively step out onto dark, slippery logs. None of them more than 2 ft across. The sides of the creek have a screen of alders leaning at 45 degree angles out over the water. Branching main trunks the thickness of your arm and about 15 ft. tall. So not only are we stepping from log to log canted at odd angles over the water. We’re also bending this way and that slowly maneuvering ourselves and our heavy packs over, under, and around the alders. Watching out for each other with wild eyes and meaningful looks. Making sure not to get a pack snagged on the branches.

But at least they offered hand holds. As we emerged into the open over the torrent, we sat down. Wrapped legs around and squeezed with all our might. Now we unbuckled the packs and loosened straps so that if you did fall in you could shed that anchor as fast as possible. Serious vertigo because just below our feet was raging white water surging by. As we shuffled our way across, inch by inch, I stole a couple of glances down stream to look at the next log jam you would get sucked under. Better not think about it. Keep Moving. The longer you look at a scary task, the harder it becomes. More alders to snake through on the opposite bank. When we reached solid ground again it was hugs all around.

We had to repeat the endeavor at the next even larger creek ( river). When we got within a mile from town our pace quickened with renewed morale. However, there was to be one last obstacle. There’s a large muskeg meadow near the end. Scattered with 5-10 ft wide pools of dark water, mud holes and trench like streams. Now the whole place was under water over our knees. Side by side we sloshed on. One by one each of us would disappear from view as we fell into deep holes. Pulled harshly out by your partners and continue without a word.

Victoriously we climbed onto the boardwalk. Looked toward the bridge at the end of town. Pelican creeks raging whitewater was just below the bridge. Normally there’s ten feet of clearance. Not caring to look at any more water, with pale, grim faces, we squished our way home. Brief handshakes as we separated at each others cabins. Leaning in the open doorway, a pool forming at my feet, I stood panting in front of Lara.

The next day the storm increased in violence with gale winds. The Inlet turned mud brown (except for the whitecaps) from all the runoff. At Pelican creek the bank was calving off at an incredible rate. Swiftly eroding its way toward the school. 20 men down there with backhoe and sand bags trying to stop entropy. It rained 10 inches every 24 hours for 3 days straight. We were lucky to have escaped the flash flood when we did.

Completed: Body Repair 101

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As you remember from last month’s news, we were changing location. All the way back to Tennessee. But before we left, we had a nice dinner out at a local restaurant (Fatz) with the other Hosts at the Park. It so happened that all four of us hosting couples were leaving the Park the same weekend. A whole new batch of people were coming in, and as I understand, none of them had ever hosted before. Good luck to them.

The meal was nice and we enjoyed getting to know the other people better. We were all from different parts of the country. Somehow the conversation got around to who got up early and who started the day later. One host said he arose every morning at 5:04. That seemed like an odd and specific time to me, so I said, “Why 5:04 and not 5:00 or 5:05?”

He pulled out his Blackberry, or iPhone, or whatever it was, punched the face of it a couple times, then turned the screen around to face me. In the upper left hand corner was the reading “5:04.” “That is my alarm,” he says, “and I have never figured out how to change it.” I hope he doesn’t change phones and gets one set at 2:06. Talk about programmed!

We left Georgia on May 30, and arrived here at Shady Acres RV Park in Lebanon in the early afternoon. We found us a suitable place between the shade trees, paid our month in advance, and pulled in. A picture of our site is above. We found our neighbors on either side of us to be here for an extended time as well. Both were fellows by themselves. One is from Michigan and here with a new job before bringing his family down. The other is from Alabama and is an Insurance Adjustor working the area with people who have had tornado damage. He has been here since February and doesn’t know how much longer he will be here. The Park seems to have a lot of people here for extended periods.

We are here in Tennessee for medical reasons, so that is what is taking up our time. The Monday after we arrived I had an appointment with a second Neurologist to have an EMG (Electromyography) which involves testing the electrical activity of the muscles. The Surgeon needed to know the extent of damage to the muscles in my right leg which has suffered atrophy because of the years of abuse by pinched nerves. We needed to see if the damage is permanent or will heal in time. That done, the surgery was scheduled for June 19th.

While I was waiting for the surgery to happen, we checked on other medical things for both me and Carolyn. I got a hearing aid repaired and tested and fitted for new ones of a different type. Carolyn went to see an Orthopedic Surgeon about her right knee which has been giving here trouble for years. The medical opinion is that she needs a new right knee. So, after I am well from my back surgery she is going to get a knee replacement. The projected date for this is in September.

June 19th arrived and it was time for my surgery. We were to be at the hospital at 5:30 A.M., the surgery scheduled for 7:00 A.M. You know the routine, answer a thousand questions, sign this, sign that, have blood tests, EKG, chest x-ray, and insert an IV. I was put in a room and told to change into that famous “backless” hospital gown. I was wheeled into the preparation/recovery area, asked more questions, signed more things. When the time came to go to the OR, I saw a nurse inject into my IV and we began wheeling through the hallway. I never saw the OR, the doctors, or anything else until I woke up back where I started in the preparation/recovery room. The time elapsed, about thirty minutes.

The surgery seemed like a non-event to me, but here is what happened. I had repairs done to two discs. It took about ten minutes per discs. A spacer, called an X-Stop, was placed between Lumbar discs 3-4 and 4-5. You see a picture of one, taken from a brochure, in photo number two above. The third photo shows where the spacers are placed. They are put between the spinous process, which is the bone protruding from the discs which forms what we generally know as the backbone. The only part of the spine that we can feel from the outside. These spacers spread the spine apart to allow freedom for the nerves going through the area.

The incision I have is only about one and one-half inches long. There are no stitches to be removed. As a matter of fact, there are no stitches at all. I was simply glued back together with Dermabond. The incision is held together, by hand or instrument, and an applicator, much like a glue stick, is passed over the area. They wait about 20 seconds and make another pass. That’s it. All done.

At 11:30 that morning, I was on my way back to the RV Park with a little soreness and a bottle of Percocet for pain. The recovery process is to rest a little, walk a little, and repeat each day. I return to the doctor two weeks after surgery, that is July 2nd. If every thing looks right and I feel right, I will be good to go after that. Then, we will head back to Georgia after the 4th.

We are ready to get back to some activity. About all we have done here, outside running around for medical reasons, is read. That’s not a bad thing. But enough is enough. I am now on my eleventh book since arriving. Carolyn has read seven or eight.

I have used words above that you may not have known. There appears to be a name for everything. Sometimes we just don’t know what that name is. Have you ever wondered what the little vertical indentation in your upper lip just below your nose is called? No? Well, anyway it is called a “philtrum.” And how about caterpillar poop? That’s the little wooly worm I’m talking about, not the farm machine. You haven’t heard of it? Now, that is called “frass.” Actually, the debris or excrement of any insect is called “frass.”

You never know in what strange places you may learn something. Now go wow your friends with this great knowledge. I’ll bet they don’t know what they are called. More fun stuff next time.

Change of Plans

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Living in a Park is full of events and mysteries. The first week this month in the Park was another bike race. Not a triathlon this time, but an endurance race. There are some 13 miles of bike trails throughout the Park, many as narrow as two feet across. The first group raced through the woods for six hours. Around and around. That seems difficult enough to me, but the second group, well, they endured for twelve hours. From ten o’clock in the morning until 10 o’clock at night. Now bear in mind, both groups are going at the same time, on the same trails, one group just ends at four o’clock. I cannot imagine racing through the woods in the dark with only a small light on ones head. But, that is just me. Or should that be “just I.” Sounds kind of weird. Let’s just stick with “me.”

The Park is used by many groups and organizations. One Saturday, a couple of weeks ago, a Private School group of 5th graders came to the Park for an outing. The group of kids were 120 strong. They had various activities planed, miniature-golf, playground, hiking and other activities such as fishing. I was drafted, along with other hosts, to help the kids with fishing.

Now, I am not a fisherman. I find the whole activity boring. But I have fished in my time, albeit not very well Fortunately for us hosts, the group divided up into twenties for the fishing action. So, here comes 20 nine and ten year olds, eager to get a line in the water, being held back by a teacher, until we gave the word to let the stampede begin. We had some 20 plus rods and reels complete with hook for them to use. And, we had worms. Some of the kids knew how to get a worm on the hook, some didn’t, and didn’t want to know. That was our job to bait the hook. We found each a spot on the boat dock for fishing. Helped them get a line in the water without hooking their classmate, and generally helped them in the process. One would fish for 30 to 45 minutes and then the next group would arrive, until everyone had a chance to try their luck.

The first picture above is of some of the group and two of the other hosts on the dock. I must say that all the young ones were well mannered and well behaved. The second picture is of the young lady that caught the first fish, a brim. They didn’t keep the fish. We let them go. I was the one who had to get the hook out of the fish’s mouth and let it go, but not before I had her pose with her trophy. She also caught a second fish during her time with the pole.

I have to tell you a story. One of the young girls approached Don, one of the other hosts, the one facing forward in the first picture, carrying her pole, and said in a low voice, what he understood as, “I have to tinkle.”

Don didn’t know what to do about that and told her, “You will have to see your teacher, and she will take you to the bathroom.”

The young girl shook her head and said, “No, I have a tangle.” So much for young voices and old ears. We separated many tangled lines that day.

So much for events. Now, the mystery. Numerous times we have been awakened in the night by a loud “squawk.” To be honest, it was Carolyn who was awakened. I don’t hear anything much with my hearing aids out. I did hear it during the day, but we could neither identify the sound or see what was making it. It was both a puzzle and an annoyance. The sound was similar to a duck, but different, and it was not a crow.

I asked the rangers about the sound and imitated it as best I could. They thought it might be a blue heron. They make a similar sound and nest in trees. There are blue herons here. I researched blue heron sounds on the Internet and found what sounded like what we were hearing. It was a Night Heron. A picture of a Black-crowned Night Heron is above. But the Rangers had never seen one. Whatever it is, it’s still squawking, but we haven’t figured it our as yet. Don’t you just hate it when you can’t figure things out?

Lots of interesting things and excitement happens in the park. On one Wednesday morning an eighteen year old young man borrowed his mother’s Chevrolet Suburban, without her knowledge, and along with a sixteen year old friend, drove into the Park when they should have been in school. The young man drove off a Park road and crashed the car into a tree. He says he was trying to miss an animal. A huh! He had some explaining to do.

That very same Wednesday, in the afternoon. A gentleman had borrowed his wife’s red 2007 Ford Expedition. He came into the Park to take photos of wild life for a photo contest going on in the Park. He was out at the boat ramp when he spotted a deer. He grabbed his camera and stepped out of the car to get a picture. He forgot to put the car in park. The car rolled down the boat ramp into the lake and disappeared completely. The last two pictures above capture part of the ordeal. You see a diver beside the pontoon boat with a buoy indicating where the car is. About 100 feet out into the lake. The last picture shows the car being pulled from the lake. Can’t you just hear him when he gets home, “Honey, I drowned the car.“ Too much excitement for one day.

I guess I need to explain what I mean by “Change of Plans.” We had planned to be here in the Park at Winder through August. Our plans are being interrupted by a trip back to Tennessee so I can have back surgery. Many of you know that I have had back trouble for years. It is time to have it fixed. Way past time according to my doctor. I have a condition know as Spinal Stenosis. For you who may not know, it is the narrowing of the spinal column by bone growth on the inside of the canal, pressing on the nerves. As a comparison of my condition with what is normal. Think of the normal opening as the hole in a large donut. My opening is about the size of the hole in a Cheerio.

The good news is that I am a good candidate for minimally invasive surgery. Meaning, the cut will be smaller and the recovery quicker. Hopefully, I am looking at two to four weeks of recovery instead of six to eight. We hope to be back in Georgia in early July to continue our life style of “Parking.”

The Parks in Georgia, as well as many other places, are having a tough time due to the economy. Many cutbacks and layoffs are occurring. Volunteers are needed more than ever. Sometimes it is hard to put in perspective the monetary situation in our world today. Billions and Trillions are being spent. Can you even imagine a trillion dollars. Think of a dollar as a second of time. A million seconds is 11.5 days. A billion seconds is 32 years. A trillion seconds is 32,000 years. Mind boggling isn’t it!

Until next time when we will boggle you some more. While we are back in Tennessee, we will be at the Shady Acres RV Park in Lebanon.

Deja Vue

(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)

While we were in Tennessee for about ten days, we not only did our doctor visits but also finally got the new sink/counter installed in our trailer. If you remember from previous blogs, the company did not want to replace the counter (sink and counter are molded into one piece) but repair it, which didn’t work. The company wanted it repaired again but the dealer and I worked out a deal so we could get it replaced. Looks nice. However, we found that after the plumbing was put back together, and we got the rig back to our campground, the faucet sprayer didn’t work and we couldn’t get any pressure.

I called the dealer and they said they would replace the faucet with a new one. They also would come to me at the campground to do the work. Getting to the plumbing is a difficult task because of a built-in shelf in the cabinet. Fortunately, the worker that came out to do the job was a small guy. I don’t think that any of the other workers at the dealer would have been able to squeeze into the space. The repair was made. The worker left. Do you foresee another problem coming here? Well after the repairman was gone, we discovered that the hot and cold water were reversed. Well, guess who had to squeeze under there and make the change. Yep, you guessed it. As the saying goes, “all’s well that ends well.” We’re happy with out new equipment.

For the second time we have returned to Fort Yargo as hosts. We arrived on April 1st. We have the same location as last year, at the Lake. The only difference was getting into our spot. It had been raining a lot in this part of Georgia, and the area was saturated and muddy. As we began backing into our spot, we discovered that our wheels on the fifth-wheel were sinking deeply into the ground. Although there is some rock on the site it didn’t seem to help much. As we continued to maneuver into the spot we were sinking more and creating ruts with the truck some 10 to 12 inches deep. We had to scrape rock from under the trailer into the wheel area, then put a two-by-ten board under the left wheels to level it. We finally got situated but the place was a mess created by the maneuvers of the truck.

We got the dish for our TV up and positioned without a lot of problems this time, but the antenna for our satellite internet was another story. We tried for two days to find a spot that would get a signal through the trees. Finally, we found a spot across the drive (the place where we made such a mess with the truck) where we could get a signal. We determined the best way to do this was to put cables overhead and not on or under the road. A large pine tree is directly across from us, so I put a ladder against the tree and wrapped rope around it about 13 feet up. I then hung our cables (two) onto the rope and strung it across to the top of our trailer and wrapped it around the over-the-air TV antenna, then down the side to the connections. Job done, so here we are again.

The work that we do as maintenance host is about the same as last year. Build this, fix that, repair the other. The only thing that is different this year is that Carolyn in now working in the Park Office for two hours in the mornings. She opens the Office and gets things started each day, greets campers, collects monies, sells fishing licenses and other goods in the Trading Post, answers the phone, answers questions from all quarters, and runs the show for awhile. Key to the door, combination to the safe, that kind of stuff. She also fills in for lunch a couple days a week.

As for me, apart from the fixer, builder kind of stuff, I am teaching a class in Spanish each week to Park personnel. There is a large Hispanic population here and they use the Park a great deal. The Park people need to know how to use Spanish when the need arises, especially in law enforcement. So, I am gearing the class toward law enforcement vocabulary and usage. There is also a large use of Community Service workers in the Park, which includes Hispanics. For those of you who may not be familiar with what Community Service is, it is a sentence imposed by the Courts in lieu of jail time for those guilty of minor offenses such as DUI, bad checks, domestic problems, etc.. Thus, there is a need here for being able to understand and speak Spanish.

Fort Yargo is a popular Park and has a lot of activities. This past weekend (April 25-26) was busy with a lot of people in the Park. Not a piece of ground was left vacant. Vehicles surrounded us here at the lake where the activities took place. Saturday was a triathlon. Swimming, biking and running. The first picture above shows some of the participants (188 in total) getting ready to enter the water. The outside temperature was 59 degrees and the water was only about 3 or 4 degrees warmer. Thus, the wet-suits. They swam half-a-mile, biked 10 miles and ran 4 ½ miles. The second picture shows the group getting ready. The winner came across in about one and a half hours, the last one about 3 ½ hours later.

Sunday was another race and more people than the day before. The race this day was mountain biking only. There were three categories of racers: kids, sportsmen (sportswomen), and professionals. Some 300 participants in all. Some of the kids looked to be no more than four years old. One lap around the trail was 10 miles. The kids made one round, the sportspeople two rounds and the pros three rounds (30 miles). The press of the crowd was so great, we decided to leave the Park for the day. By the time we left early in the morning, there was little space left to even maneuver out. Just another day in the Park.

We have had a storm or two since we arrived. Trees came down along with the rain and hail. We had made preparations to move to the adjacent bath house if it came to that. I had taken camp chairs to the storage area between the restrooms, we had our clothes at the ready if needed during the night, and a powerful flashlight. We kept an ear glued to our weather alert radio. We spent much of the night listening to the beating and pounding of the awnings on our slide-outs, particularly the one over our heads in the bedroom. The storm passed. No damage to us. But it got me thinking again as to how to quiet the noise of the slide-out awnings.

Ever since we have been full-timing we have had problems with our awnings, particularly out West in high wind areas, which seems to be about everywhere. A second problem with the awnings is that they collect water. After a heavy rain the awning sags with the weight of the water. Not only does that stretch the awning, but if water is left there it builds mold and turns the awnings ugly. We started bringing our slides in after a heavy rain to empty the awnings, which are spring loaded and roll in and out with the slide, but cannot be tightened enough to keep from sagging or flapping in the wind. This becomes a nuisance when it rains often, and does nothing for the noise.

Everyone I have talked to with slide awnings correct their problem either by buying a new RV without slide awnings or take them off altogether. There seems to be no satisfactory solutions on the market to correct this situation. I like the awnings there because they give double protection for the slide-out. There has to be a solution I kept thinking. So I thought, I am not thinking hard enough. So I “put on my thinking cap” and sat down to think. I doodled, I thought. After awhile I came to that “Ah Ha!” moment, and the proverbial light bulb went on over my head. Simple and cheap.

Photos three and four show my solution. The materials are lengths of half inch schedule 40 PVC pipe and half inch T connectors. I chose schedule 40 because the pipe wall is thicker and thus stronger. Photo three shows how a section is put together. It will take two or more sections depending on the length of the slide. The longest length of pipe is no more than 34 or 36 inches. Easy to assemble, disassemble and store for moving.

Photo four shows the solution installed on one of my slides. You can see how it makes a “tent” effect. The several upright sections keep the awning tight throughout the length, the broad feet keep it stable. The water runs off freely and no flapping in the wind. We have three slide-outs; six feet long by two feet deep, twelve feet long by three feet deep and fifteen feet long by two feet deep. This solution has been installed for a few weeks now, through high winds and heavy rain. It is as quiet as a kitten. NO FLAP, NO PUDDLE, NO SLEEPLESS NIGHTS! The materials for all three of my slides cost less than $25. Just takes a little cutting up, and I’ve always been a cut up. I will soon be sharing my solutions with other RVers in an article in an RV magazine. Our son, Don, thinks I should manufacture them and sell them on E-Bay and make a fortune. Maybe. But hey, I’m retired.

The last picture is, as you can tell, some ducks. If you look closely you see that the red color on their faces look like they are wearing a Mardi Gras mask. As you look at our feathered friends doing the Mardi Gras waddle up the walk,……… that’s our life, “just a walk in the Park.”

Spring has Sprung

(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)

Spring has finally sprung. I’m sure you can attest to the fact by looking around you, wherever you are (again, except in the snow belt). I couldn’t resist a picture of the little Dogwood tree in full bloom that you see above. It seems to be a time of new growth, beautiful blooms and sneezing, runny eyes and misery, if you are prone to allergies. Such is Spring!

Warm weather in South Georgia brings out the Gopher Turtles from there deep burrows. Many people visit General Coffee State Park to seek out the tortoises. They tend to come out to get sun (the tortoise that is, perhaps the people too). We encountered a student from the University of Georgia who was a biology major and had come down just to see the tortoise. We found him in the middle of a paved road (closed to vehicular traffic) patiently waiting, camera on tripod, for a tortoise to appear from its burrow a short distance down the road. He had startled it on his walk (and vise versa) and decided to wait for it to come out again. He virtually spent the day sitting in his lawn chair waiting for the tortoise. Whether he was successful or not, I don’t know. But I was. Not at that tortoise burrow, but another.

The second picture above shows Gertrude outside her burrow. One of the other camp host named her. She occupies a burrow just across from out campsite. I suppose you can see the pieces of lettuce laying near her. People tend to want to feed her, perhaps to entice her out of the hole. The second picture shows her just inside her burrow. Let me tell you a little about Gopher Tortoises. I’m sure you are dying to know.

The life of a gopher tortoise revolves around a tunnel-like burrow that is excavated using its shovel-like front feet. Burrows can be up to 40 feet in length and 10 feet in depth. Each burrow has a single opening and the width of the burrow is approximately equal to the length of the tortoise. Therefore, the tortoise is able to turn around at any point within the burrow, and consequently, burrow width is a good indicator of the size (and approximate age) of the tortoise. Gopher tortoise burrows are usually easy to spot in the landscape because of the characteristic mound of loose sand at the burrow entrance (called the "apron").

Gopher tortoise burrows remain at a fairly constant temperature and humidity level year-round, thus providing shelter for the tortoise during periods of extreme temperatures, drought, and fire. Tortoise burrows also afford refuge to other animals including more than 360 animal species. The list includes the indigo snake (a picture of the indigo snake at the entrance to the borrow is above), pine snake, gopher frog, opossum, armadillo, burrowing owl, gopher cricket, scarab beetles, and many others. But, of course, these creatures do not usually reside in the burrow together, but in succession.

Gopher tortoises feed mainly on low-growing plants that require abundant sunlight. Although grasses and legumes make up the bulk of their diet, gopher tortoises eat a large variety of plants including gopher apple, pawpaw, blackberries, saw palmetto berries, and other fruits.

Gopher tortoises are thought to live in excess of 60 years. They grow relatively slowly and growth rates vary by geographic region. For example, in northern Florida, female tortoises reach adulthood at 10 to 15 years of age, when the shell length is about nine inches; in southwest Georgia, tortoises may take 21 years to mature. Adult female gopher tortoises are slightly larger than males, and at maturity, male tortoises can usually be distinguished from females by a concave lower shell (plastron).

Gopher tortoises typically breed from April to June. During May and June, female tortoises lay 3-15 eggs, either in the sand mound in front of the burrow or in another nearby sunny place. The incubation period for eggs varies from 80 to 90 days in Florida to more than 100 days in Georgia. A mature female generally produces one clutch of eggs annually. Nest predation can be quite high and an individual female may produce a successful nest as infrequently as once in 10 years. Nest predators include raccoons, foxes, skunks, armadillos, and fire ants.

Hatchling gopher tortoises may use an adult burrow or dig a small burrow of their own. Young gopher tortoises are vulnerable to predation until their shell hardens at about 6-7 years of age. Raccoon, indigo snake, black bear, and red-tailed hawk, among others, eat hatchlings and young tortoises. Adult tortoises have few enemies other than humans, although domestic dogs and raccoons are known to eat them.

A variety of jobs around the park continue to need doing. Somehow I seem to get in the middle of them. Jackie, the Ranger who runs the farm asked if I would accompany her to a neighboring farm to borrow a horse trailer so she could take a mule to a vet. She needed help hooking up the trailer. That accomplished, I went about other tasks. Later, a call came to help load the mule in the trailer. They were having problems.

When I and another host arrived, four others were struggling with the mule. He refused to get in. The six of us struggled, pushed and pulled. At every effort the donkey would hunker down and dig in its feet. The mule was not large, the top of his head came only to my shoulders, but he was one stubborn creature. The Camp Manager and another host manned a rope through the trailer’s front window and pulled. I and the Assistant Camp Manager got behind the mule to push. Now, I had already experienced the effects of a mule kick in “another life” that I told you about in an earlier blog, so I was a little cautious. The Assistant Manager put his knee under the left hind leg and lifted, we pushed and moved forward six inches. We repeated this operation until the mule was finally in the trailer.

Some of us wondered why a simple cattle prod was not used to move the mule. The fact that we did not have one was one reason. The reason we had none was that the Farm Manager, Jackie, felt that it was cruel to use one on an animal. I guess that if one has free labor to do the job, it doesn’t matter. One wonders how she would feel if she didn’t have the luxury of more manpower. I guess we won’t know.

I have also learned the principles of fire-fighting by helping with prescribed burning of the grounds in the Park. I manned the fire-line and created a fire-break, put out stray fires and generally kept the fire from burning the trees. The aim, of course, is to only burn the ground growth to help maintain the forest. After a day of this, I smelled like a fire myself, so it was home, strip and shower. Of course, one could smell the smoke that resulted for days.

One day, on the way home for lunch, another host and I, in a Mule (a four-wheel vehicle), passed the dump station (where RVs empty their tanks) and noticed a car setting at the dump with a gray-haired lady inside. This seemed odd. Cars have no need to be setting at the dump. On our way back an hour later, the car and lady were still there. We informed the Camp Manager and he said he would check it out. Perhaps she was in trouble and needed help.

She was in trouble alright, but she didn’t know it. She was as “drunk as a skunk.” I’ve never understood that expression fully as to how drunk that is, but she was highly inebriated. We found later that she had been in the Park since early morning, moving from place to place drinking, without an entry permit. She was promptly written a ticket and the Sheriff was called to take her to jail. We passed by again later in the day and Jackie was keeping the car company, waiting for the wrecker to tow the car. We don’t know the lady’s situation, but her car had been damaged in the front, and the back seat was piled high with what looked like her worldly possessions.

The last picture above shows the Park Manager (on the right) and another Camp Host (Woody) overseeing the barbecue of chicken quarters for a gathering we had in March. It was an appreciation meal given by the Park for the volunteers. Counting Park personnel and Camp Host couples, there were some 20 of us. We enjoyed the time and the meal.

Such is life in the Park!

At this writing, we are parked at a campground in Tennessee. We decided to leave General Coffee a little early (we left on March 22) to come here for some doctor visits. Some family and friends in Tennessee know we are here, but the rest of you don’t, until now. We will be leaving here on April 1st (not an “April Fool”) and head back south to Fort Yargo in Winder Georgia. Our new address for a few months will be:

Fort Yargo State Park, 210 South Broad Street, Winder, GA 30680.

As they say in the entertainment business when a project is finished, “that’s a rap.”

Spring is Coming

(NOTE: View a larger picture by clicking on the photo(s) above.)

It is true. Spring is coming. I know that it is difficult for some of you in the “bad weather” belt to believe, but it’s true. The Redbud Trees attest to the fact, as you can see in the first picture above of a row of Redbuds in a picnic area. They are beginning to bud. Even here in South Georgia the weather shows its fickleness. It has been very warm for the last few days, up near 80 degrees, but it is forecasted to change again to some colder, wetter weather for a few days. But, true to form, Spring will arrive in three weeks, ready or not. But I bet you are ready. Huh?

Speaking of trees, yes there was something about trees somewhere in the last paragraph, look at the second picture. Do you recognize the tree? It is a magnolia. The picture does absolutely no justice to the real thing. It was necessary to get so far away to get the tree in the lens, one gets no perspective of its size. The tree is at the end of one of the hiking trails, and is reported to be the largest, or second largest, magnolia in Georgia depending on who is telling it. At any rate, I do know that it is twelve feet around. I took a tape measure and measured it. It appears to be some 70 to 80 feet tall, or taller. I am not great at estimating height, but you can tell that it towers over the trees surrounding it. It has to be more than 200 years old.

There are not many campers in the campground. Most of the time there are no campers in the campground. After all, it is Winter. Which means we don’t do much “hosting.” So we are still doing a variety of jobs. One of the projects that I undertook during the month, along with one of the other host, was building a new office for management. Sounds like a fairly straight-forward task. Right? Get some materials. Put them together. Well, not so fast.

The rest of the Trading Post, where the offices are located, is constructed in tongue-and-groove, pine paneling with beveled edges. Do we have tongue-and-groove, pine paneling with beveled edges? No! The Park cannot afford new tongue-and-groove, pine paneling with beveled edges. You have heard of the budget crunch that has hit the States I’m sure. Georgia has been hit hard in this regard. No money for anything much. Volunteers are highly prized.

What the State could afford was a few bundles of old 1” by 6” lumber that had been setting out in the weather at some lumber yard for who knows how many years. There were four bundles of eight foot pieces and one bundle of 12 foot pieces. Each bundle contained 25 pieces. We checked over the bundles and found them in pitiful shape. Some were crooked, some bowed, some broken and all were black from age. Great! What do we do with this junk? Our task was to make pine paneling with beveled edges out of this mess. Forget the tongue-and-groove.

What we needed to do was clean the lumber first. It needed to be planed. Slight problem. The Park has no planer. Solution, check with another Park. Hoorah! Little Ocmulgee State Park has a planer, but we will have to take the wood there. Little Ocmulgee is and hour and a half drive from General Coffee. OK, five bundles of wood, some 12 feet long, 125 pieces altogether. Hum! The wood is loaded on a long trailer we hook it to a Park truck and Wally (that’s the other host) and I take off. Hour and a half there, an hour and a quarter to plane 125 pieces, and an hour and a half back.

OK, step number one complete. The existing paneling had 5 1/8 inches showing. The planed boards were six inches wide. Step number two, rip to size. Step number three, figure out the bevel. We have no router either. So we figured out a “tilt” on the radial-arm saw, fixed a jig to hold the wood and ran it through…..125 pieces, two passes each to cut bevels on each side. Now, all we have to do is cut to size and hang each piece of “panel.” You can see the results of our labor in picture number three above. We nailed in each piece tight to the piece below it. Then, the wood began to dry out and create an unintended gap between each board. Either we leave it “as is” or we wait until it stops shrinking and fill it with something. The jury is still out on that. It may not match perfectly, but it provides an 11 x 13 office with two windows and a door. What else can one ask on such a budget and less-than-good materials. Looks great! Don’t you think?

So you can see that jobs around here for Volunteers provide great variety. Just the other day I was working with one of the Park personnel, picking up trash and the like throughout the Park. As we were riding down the road in the Park we passed a section of ground along side the road that had been “control burned” to get rid of underbrush. The new green growth had already begun to grow back, popping up in the blacken earth. Clarence, the Park employee I mentioned, a 71 year old black man of small stature and a great personality, remarked,

“When I was a kid, we used to burn like that. When the green started to come back, the red, red robins would come in big numbers. I would make me a sling-shot and go kill them.”

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“We eat ’em. They good. Taste like quail,” he said.

Clarence plans to work until he is 75 so he can get a small pension from the State. I have been told that Clarence can neither read nor write. I haven’t verified this with Clarence. I wouldn’t want to embarrass him. Clarence was very surprised to learn that I am older than he is.

The fourth picture above is of the Burnham House located in the Park and used as a rental cottage. It was built in the 19th Century and is furnished in period pieces throughout the house. The history is not clear about its beginnings. Some say it was an old tobacco barn that had a floor installed to make a second story, and then built onto. Others say is was just an old house with additions. At any rate, it has four bedrooms and three baths. It will sleep eight.

The story circulates that the house is haunted. It is said that that is why Mrs. Burnham sold the house. Her husband died, and Mrs. Burnham said she could hear him still walking around upstairs. I walked around upstairs and couldn’t see nor hear Mr. Burnham anywhere. I suppose it was an off day. I know he wasn’t in the living room. That is the last picture you see, showing the fireplace in the center. You can get a sense of how the house is furnished.

Well, that is it for this month. We are looking forward to “permanent” Spring, at least until it becomes “permanent” Summer. With this prospect in mind, it won’t be long until we will venture a little farther north. More on that next time.