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We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Leaving the misty peaks and lush green hollows of the Smoky Mountains behind, we began our westward journey through rolling hills and wide-open stretches of southern countryside. The mountains gradually gave way to gentler landscapes—long, tree-lined highways, sleepy farm towns, and fields dotted with cattle and wildflowers. As we crossed into Arkansas, the terrain began to shift again, and we could gradually see the Ouachita Mountains rise up around us—lower and rounder than the Smokies, but still full of character and charm. The air felt warmer, the trees a little more rugged, and the road climbed steadily as we made our way toward Hot Springs. Nestled in these forested hills is a place where history, healing, and nature meet—and we couldn’t wait to explore our last stop at the KOA Holiday near Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas. KOA Holiday Campground Nestled in the stunning Ouachita Mountains, our campground was the perfect blend of nature, relaxation and adventure. Just minutes from the downown area and hundreds of hiking and off-road trails, we thoroughly enjoyed our stay. The bathrooms and laundry were large and sparkling clean, and the pool and playground were well-kept. The RV sites were very close together and hard to access, but once we were nestled in, we had plenty of privacy, even with neighbors right next door. Our first day in Arkansas started slow—we slept in a bit to recover from the eight-hour drive from Tennessee. Once we were rested, we headed out to explore the stunning Ouachita Mountains. Unlike the Rocky Mountains or the Appalachians, which run north to south, the Ouachitas are the only major mountain range in North America that runs east to west. Some of the ranges are also called ZigZag Mountains , known for their dramatic folds and thrust faults—evidence of the intense geologic pressure that shaped them long ago. We hiked parts of the Hot Springs Mountain Trail, including the Honeysuckle and Peak Trails, winding through shady woods and climbing to scenic overlooks. Holden and I collected a large variety of rocks for our collection. After a quick lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with broccoli salad, we set off for a different kind of adventure—an off-road ride through the rugged terrain of the Ouachitas. With the help of our guide, J.D., and the folks at Hot Springs Off-Road Park, we spent two hours bouncing through trails, splashing through ravines, and taking in the views from mountaintop clearings. Our favorite stop? Papa’s Pointe—where the horizon seemed to stretch forever. Tomorrow, we head to Texas for a quick stop in Farmers Branch to drop off Jacob and Holden, then home to Belton to check on the chickens and our garden and finish work on our Tiny House/Barn. And to plan our next adventure! Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Holden's post completely captured the essence the fun we have had, but we have been so impressed with Tennessee in general, and with Fall Creek Falls State Park especially, that I have to say a little more about our stay here. Tucked into the heart of the Tennessee mountains, the park was everything we hoped for and more. From our site, we laced up our hiking boots and hit the trails to four different creeks and waterfalls—each one stunning in its own way. Some we admired from scenic overlooks, others we climbed around and explored up close, scrambling across boulders and wading through cold mountain water. Spencer and Jacob even attempted to swim against the current up to one of the falls. We also visited the park’s Nature Center, which was full of fascinating history about the area—how it formed, who first settled here, and how it became the treasured place it is today. We came across the Taft Village pool, which we learned is undergoing significant renovations this summer to improve its foundation, liner, lighting, and filtration systems—a temporary closure, but the area surrounding it, including an amphitheater is really neat and we could't help but imagine how lively the areas must be when it is buzzing with live music and filled with people. We're headed out this morning for an 8-hour drive to our last two-day stop in Arkanas before we head home to Texas. But we will definitely be back to Tennessee and these beautiful Smokey Moiuntains. If you love hiking, peaceful forests, and the sound of rushing water, Fall Creek Falls State Park absolutely belongs on your list. With scenic trails that lead to breathtaking waterfalls—some towering, some tucked away—and plenty of opportunities to wade, swim, or just sit and soak it all in, this park is a nature-lover’s dream. Whether you're chasing waterfalls, exploring creeks, or climbing across boulders with your kids, there's something here for every kind of adventurer. It's the kind of place that invites you to slow down, breathe deep, and remember just how beautiful the world can be. If you find yourself anywhere near eastern Tennessee, do yourself a favor and make the trip—your hiking boots and your soul will thank you. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. This is one of the parks I had on my list to see when we first started planning our trip, and I was so excited that Jacob and Holden got to come see it with us. Holden talked so descriptively about his adventures at Fall Creek Falls State Park that I asked him to be a guest writer for my blog. Campsite on Loop C The site has nice grass with cement to put our chairs on. It also has a picnic table, a grill and a firepit. Papa built us a fire after our first day of hiking. It was nice to sit by while we relaxed at our campsite. When we were exploring, we found a big tree that fell over by the creek. The trunk is broken. A little of the bark is off. It is tilted. It is longer than Papa's pickup and about three yards off the ground at the tallest part. ZeeZee took a picture of me by the trunk and I took a picture of her with the whole tree. Cane Creek Falls Trail and Suspension Bridge The trail had a lot of rocks that were made into steps. Most of them were huge. On the trail there was a fence, and when we looked over it, we saw a waterfall. I said, "Let's go to the waterfall." To get to the waterfall, we had to cross a long suspension bridge that was pretty shaky. When we got off the bridge we had to walk and climb over a rough trail along the river. We had to cross the river through some fast-running water. I held Papa's hand through the water. Dada and ZeeZee were not going to get in the water until they saw how much fun Papa and I were having. After we got to the other side we had to crawl along the edge, then climb up to get inside a pretty cool cave. Some of the rocks were slippery. Inside the cave were a lot of rocks, some dirt, and plants. Papa crawled all the way up with me. Then we hiked to the top of a huge waterfall. The water falling was rushing, but it made a nice, soft sound. It was a little scary to look over the edge, and I thought I might fall, because there was no fence. On our way back from the waterfall, we found a really big tree and Dada, Papa and I tried to reach all the way around it. Papa said the tree was a hemlock tree. I thought ziplining yesterday was the most fun on our trip, but today was even better than ziplining! Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. After days of navigating the constant motion of Washington, D.C.—its traffic, sirens, and crowded sidewalks—we slipped out of the city and into a quieter rhythm. As we crossed into Virginia, the landscape began to open up. Highways curved gently through rolling hills, and city skylines gave way to dense green forests and wide-open skies. The air felt lighter, the road less urgent. We couldn’t help but admire the breathtaking layers of the landscape as we drove. Closest to us, the hillside rolled out in a vibrant, crisp green, dotted with grazing cattle like we see in magazines or on postcards. Just beyond, a mountain range rose up, its slopes dressed in a patchwork of spring greens—some bright and fresh, others deeper and shaded—showcasing the season’s full palette. In the distance, a soft mist hovered, gently blurring the boundary between the treetops and the sky, where blue stretched into white, and clouds floated like cottton. One of the unexpected delights of this leg of our journey was discovering Virginia’s rest areas. These weren’t the typical quick-stop roadside pull-offs. Instead, they felt like intentional spaces to breathe. Spacious, impeccably clean, and beautifully maintained, each one offered shaded picnic tables scattered across grassy hillsides beneath tall trees. We found ourselves lingering longer than usual—stretching our legs, enjoying a snack, and taking in the serene views. It was the kind of pause that reminds you the journey itself is part of the destination. As the road carried us farther into the Blue Ridge Mountains, we felt the noise of the city fall away behind us, replaced by birdsong, rustling leaves, and the soft hum of tires on pavement winding through nature. Virginia was welcoming us in her own quiet, gracious way. Fort Chiswell RV Park is right off Interstate 81 in Max Meadows, VA. Knowing we needed a break between DC and Pigeon Forge, we chose this site, right off our route, hoping for a quiet spot with clean laundry and bath house faciities, and we were not disappointed. The park boasts full hookups with pull-through sites for easy in and out, has a heated swimming pool and immaculate bath and laundry facilities. Booking and checking in was a breeze. The park is nestled between two Virginia hillsides and many of the spots offer cool shade. We made a quick dinner from our camper freezer - fish, air-fried okra and baked potato, wishing we had time to explore: Virginia Tech is right down the road, as is West Wind Farm Vineyard and Winery and New River Trail , a 57-mile trail that parallels the New River and an abandoned railroad right-of-way that we really wanted to hike along. The name Fort Chiswell comes from a frontier fort built in 1758 as an oupost during the French and Indian War. Famous Fact about Max Meadows, population just over 500: James William Archer, born in 1932 in Max Meadows, VA, is a former Major League Baseball pitcher who played two seasons for the Kansas City Athletics. He threw left-handed and batted right. Even though we made a quick stop here, if we are in the area, we will definitely be back for a longer stay. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

While we typically seek out state parks and RV sites that prioritize nature over amenities, Pigeon Forge Landing RV Resort in Sevierville offered the best of both worlds. Tucked at the back of the resort, our site was just steps from the river, where we enjoyed frequent sightings of wildlife. The park itself featured spacious concrete pads with full hookups, individual fire pits, a pool and hot tub, and exceptionally clean bath and laundry facilities. Best of all, it was just a short drive to the attractions of Pigeon Forge, the charm of Gatlinburg, and the breathtaking trails of the Great Smoky Mountains. We arrived on Friday, and it rained off an on for most of the day. We did manage to fit in a short walk down the Pigeon Forge Riverwalk along the Little Pigeon River and a visit to Old Forge Distillery and Zi Olive Gourmet Olive Oils and Balsamic Vinegars followed by a soak in the hot tub during the rain. Then we settled in to play SkipBo and Sequence. When the rain let up, we walked to the Iron Forge Brewing Company for some scrumptuous burgers, onion rings, craft beer and margarita. Saturday morning, we took Rita for a walk along the river before heading out to hike Buckeye Trail to Spruce Flats Falls in the Great Smokey Mountain National Park. The drive up to the Buckeye Trail was a whole experience in itself—honestly, one of the most beautiful stretches of road we’ve been on. As we left the bustle of Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg behind, the scenery started to shift. The road narrowed, winding deeper into the Smokies, and the trees seemed to close in around us like a green tunnel. We followed the Little River as it danced alongside the road, its clear water rushing over smooth rocks and fallen branches. Every few bends in the road offered a new postcard-worthy view: mossy stone bridges, sunlight streaming through the canopy, wildflowers dotting the roadside. The air even smelled different—cleaner, crisper, full of pine and mountain earth. The trail starts just behind the Tremont Institute in the Smoky Mountain National Park—no big crowds, no flashy signs—just a quiet path leading into the woods. The hike itself is just under two miles round-trip, but it packs in a little bit of everything: winding forest paths, rocky climbs, and peek-a-boo mountain views through the trees. The trail is moderately challenging—not too long or steep, but with enough roots and rocks and climing to keep things interesting. We took our time, soaking in the fresh air and the chorus of birdsong all around us. Spruce Flats Falls was absolutely worth the effort. The falls cascade down multiple tiers of mossy rock, tumbling into a crystal-clear pool below. It’s not the tallest waterfall in the park, but it has a quiet beauty that makes you want to linger. We sat for a while, just watching the water and letting the sound of the falls and the stillness of the forest sink in. It felt like a hidden gem—a little slice of peace tucked away in the mountains. If you're looking for a less-traveled trail with a big reward at the end, this one definitely makes the list. After our hike, we made our way to Townsend—known as “the peaceful side of the Smokies”—and stopped for a relaxing lunch at Peaceful Side Social Brewery + Craft Kitchen. It was the perfect spot to unwind: a laid-back, modern outpost with picnic tables scattered around the lawn, mountain views in the background, and a welcoming vibe that made us want to linger. We split a wood-fired margarita pizza, which was fresh and flavorful with just the right amount of char on the crust. Paired with a cold craft beer and a glass of wine, it hit the spot. Families were spread out around us, kids playing in the open space while their parents enjoyed food and drinks. It was easy to see why this place has become a favorite for locals and visitors alike—great food, great atmosphere, and just the right dose of small-town charm. We muched cones with Big Foot Ice Cream while we strolled around a locally-sponsored electric car show nearby. Then we were off to pick up Jacob and Holden at the airport. They're joining us for the rest of the trip! The moment we got back to the campsite, Holden made a beeline for the creek and walking trail just steps from our site. That quickly became his favorite hangout. He gathered sticks, crafted boats from oversized leaves, and let out excited squeals every time geese glided by on the water. Rita did her best to keep up, but by the end of each day, she was completely worn out. Sunday morning brought a dose of adventure when Papa treated us all to a ziplining experience at Five Oaks Adventure Park . As we checked in, we were greeted by a friendly, free-roaming donkey named Angel and a few laid-back cats who seemed perfectly at home among the guests. After a quick safety briefing and getting strapped into our gear, we loaded into a rugged vehicle for a bumpy ride up a steep hillside—setting the tone for what was to come. For the next two hours, we soared through the treetops on zip lines that offered stunning views of the Smoky Mountains. I’ll admit, I was more nervous than Holden at first, but we all found our rhythm—and by the time we reached the final, longest line, we were laughing, cheering, and already talking about doing it again. After ziplining, we had a quick lunch of tomato soup and grilled cheese at the camper, then took a short hike along Twin Creeks Trail where we explored a historic house that reminded us of Little House on the Prairie books, a hole in a tree, and did lots of reflecting by the falls before ending our evening in the swimming pool and hot tub. All in all, today was a perfect day. Tomorrow, we head out to Fall Creek Falls State Park deep in the Tennessee Mountains. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Cherry Hill RV Park While I didn't capture many photos of Cherry Hill Park , this campground truly exceeded our expectations. We initially chose it for its convenient access to Washington, D.C.—with both a bus stop and Metro station right at the park's entrance—but we were blown away by the variety of amenities and the warm, welcoming atmosphere. The park is located in College Park, Maryland, touted as a center for edeucation, experimentation and exploration and is a must-stay for campers visiting D.C. or the surrounding area. The park offers a variety of accommodations, including full hook-up RV sites, tent camping areas, and unique glamping options like yurts and cabins. There are heated swimming pools, a hot tub, sauna, and a splash park for kids. We didn't try it, but the Capital Cafe offers delivery, take-out, and dine-in options. It's a huge park, but is run so well it feels like a mom and pop operation. That's what really stood out to us - the atmosphere. The park felt alive with the joyful energy of families making memories—we saw kids zipping by on scooters and bikes, groups gathered around firepits cooking dinner, and neighbors chatting under the shade of tall trees. Playgrounds were scattered throughout the park and were lined with golf carts and scooters and filled with laughing children. Just steps away you could find people relaxing, reading, or simply enjoying the fresh air and birdsong—all right in the middle of the city. Every site included a fire ring, and the smell of campfire cooking filled the air in the evenings. Despite being just a short distance from downtown D.C., the campground felt like a peaceful, self-contained retreat where people come not just to explore the capital, but to truly unwind. Day 1 - The Mall After the quiet hills of Pennsylvania, Washington, D.C. and its traffic greeted us with a frenzy. There was an electricity in the air here—something about the neoclassical buildings, the steady hum of traffic, and the awareness that decisions shaping a nation are being made just beyond the building facades. We began our exploration on foot, strolling down the legendary avenues that have framed so many pivotal moments in American history. Two of my favorites Pennsylvania Avenue, where inaugural parades have marched and voices have risen in protest. Constitution Avenue, lined with imposing monuments and memorials, echoing the ideals this country was built on. With each step, the city unfolded its story—stone by stone, statue by statue. And just beyond, waiting to welcome us, was the National Mall. A stretch of green space and reflecting water the area is surrounded by the symbols of a nation's journey that I have read about and watched movies about and told students about, but not experienced until today. Washington Monument We were all captivated by the Washington Monument—its stark, imposing presence rising boldly against the sky. Standing beneath it, we couldn’t help but marvel that this towering obelisk, the tallest stone structure in the world, was built without cranes or computer modeling. It was begun in 1848, paused during the Civil War, and finally completed nearly four decades later. As we looked up, we felt a quiet reverence—not just for the ingenuity it took to build it, but for what it represents: the enduring legacy of a nation’s first leader, and the ideals he helped set in motion. We made our way to the White House and joined the steady stream of visitors viewing it from the sidewalk along Pennsylvania Avenue. Standing at the black iron fence, we took in the iconic facade—smaller than it looks on TV, but no less powerful in its symbolism. The Lincoln Memorial Standing before the Lincoln Memorial was unlike anything I had expected. I’ve read so many of Lincoln’s speeches and writings over the years—words that shaped a nation and still echo in classrooms, books, and that are part of the tapestry of our American identity. I’ve taught novels and historical accounts shaped by the Civil War, wrestled with the moral weight of Lincoln’s choices, and tried to help students understand what was at stake in the nation’s most trying hour. So to walk up those white marble steps, to stand in that solemn, open-air chamber with Lincoln seated high above, carved in quiet dignity—it was indescribable. The statue is massive, but it’s the stillness that took my breath away. There’s something reverent in the hush that seemed to settle over all of us present that day. I could feel the weight of history pressing gently on my shoulders. My husband, struck in a different way, kept commenting on Lincoln’s square-toed boots. It made me smile—the way something so specific and human could pull me closer, reminding us that this larger-than-life figure was also just a man. Somehow, that detail made the whole moment even more powerful. Looking up at Lincoln’s face, I thought about the ideals he fought for—equality, unity, liberty—and the cost at which they came. And then, turning to read the Gettysburg Address and Second Inaugural Address etched into the walls, it felt like standing inside a cathedral of American memory. Lincoln’s words are not relics; they’re alive, asking all of us in each generation to listen again, to consider what freedom and democracy demand of us today. Visiting the memorial was not just a moment of sightseeing—it was a moment of deep remembering. World War II Memorial Visiting the World War II Memorial was deeply moving. As Texans, we naturally gravitated to our state’s pillar among the 56 representing the U.S. and its territories. It felt grounding to stand there and reflect on those we know and remember from our home state who served in a conflict that spanned continents. The Wall of Stars —with its 4,048 gold stars, each representing 100 American lives lost—was a sobering, silent tribute to the cost of freedom. Nearby, a quote from General Douglas MacArthur captured the weight of the moment: 'The guns are silent. A great tragedy has ended. A great victory has been won.'  Surrounded by the fountains and stone, we paused—not just to admire the monument, but to honor the people and sacrifices behind it. Vietnam Veterans Memorial The Vietnam Veterans Memorial was deeply personal for me. My father fought in Korea and Vietnam and passed away early in my life due to the effects of Agent Orange.  The memorial is more than stone and names; it is a space of reflection on sacrifice and loss. Watching people search for the names of loved ones and carefully etch them onto paper for personal keepsake memorials was both intimate and reverent. Each tracing was an act of remembrance, a silent testimony to love that endures. These small gestures—kneeling at the wall, pressing paper to stone, running fingers over engraved names—spoke volumes about the grief, pride, and connection carried on by those left behind. Over the years, reading and teaching many works about the war—most notably Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried —have profoundly shaped my understanding of the complex nature of truth, memory, and trauma connected to Vietnam. This book is a MUST-read. Nelson DeMille, in Up Country , writes, “Vietnam is a country, not just a war" (Go read this book if you haven't). Standing there, I felt the weight of those words. This simple truth reminded me that beyond the battles and memories, Vietnam—like America—is a land with its own people, stories, and history—a complexity often lost in the shadow of conflict. The memorial honors not only Americans who died in the conflict but also the land, people, and stories beyond the battlefield—reminding us that healing and understanding require seeing the whole picture. If you've been following my blog, you know Mark Twain is one of my all-time favorite authors. His War Prayer , offers a powerful reflection on the prayers for victory we so often take for granted. He reminds us that when we pray for triumph, we are also praying for the suffering, defeat, and death of the other side. Twain questions how such prayers align with the nature of God, writing that “God hears not the prayer of the nation that invokes Him to smite its foe.” These stories and these authors, along with many others, helped me grasp the human side of the Vietnam conflict beyond facts and dates, revealing the emotional and moral struggles faced by those who lived it. Today's visit brought back passages from many of those stories and poems, proving once again that art and literature are our vehicles for not only honoring all lives touched by war, but for recognizing the shared humanity on both sides of conflict, and in our every day lives. Day 2 - Arlington National Cemetery and Old Town Alexandria Our visit to Arlington National Cemetery was unlike any other stop on our journey so far. The moment we stepped through the gates, the quiet stretched out in every direction—miles of tree-lined paths winding through gently rolling hills, each lined with row after row of white gravestones. The sheer vastness of the cemetery is humbling. It feels endless, and every stone carries a story. We noticed the variety almost immediately. Some graves were marked with simple, uniform headstones in perfect rows; others stood out with crosses, stars, or custom engravings. Learning about the history of the cemetery, we were reminded that Arlington was once the estate of Robert E. Lee’s family. During the Civil War, it was taken over by the Union Army and slowly became a burial ground for soldiers. We passed newer sections with smooth lawns and polished markers, and older areas where the stones leaned with time. Even the landscape itself varied—some hills were shaded and wooded, while others were open, bright, and wide. At one point, we paused at a gravestone that simply read “Jones”—our own last name. We don’t know the person buried there, but it made us stop and think about the thousands of families like ours who have loved and lost someone in service. One of the most moving parts of our visit was the solemn ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. Established in 1921, the tomb holds the remains of unidentified soldiers from multiple wars. It represents all those who served and were never brought home, and stands as a promise that they will never be forgotten. The guarding of the tomb and changing of the guard is a quiet, powerful ritual—every movement by the soldier is slow, precise, and deeply intentional. Not a word is spoken, but the silence says everything. As Taps played in the background, we could feel the weight of history and sacrifice. The respect shown here and felt here, even though reminiscent of the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, was unlike anything else I’ve ever witnessed. Maybe because these sacrifices were made in my country, for me and my family. We also visited the grave of President John F. Kennedy, where the eternal flame burns day and night. Nearby are the graves of Jackie Kennedy and other members of the Kennedy family. People stood quietly, heads bowed, reading the engraved words and watching the steady flame. It’s a peaceful spot, filled with a sense of both history and hope. We passed the columbarium—walls of niches holding the ashes of veterans and their spouses. These spaces were just as reverent as the fields of graves. Fresh flowers and small mementos had been left by loved ones, adding personal touches to this solemn place. As we walked the quiet, tree-lined paths of Arlington National Cemetery, we paused to watch a horse-drawn caisson carry a flag-draped casket to its final resting place. The solemn procession moved slowly, the rhythm of hooves on pavement echoing through the hush. This tradition dates back to the Civil War and continues today as a symbol of honor and respect. The caisson—once used to carry ammunition—is now reserved for transporting the remains of those who have served with distinction, most often commissioned officers, Medal of Honor recipients, and those killed in action. There was something timeless in the sight: the black horses, the caisson team in full dress, the slow, deliberate pace. It reminded me that each grave at Arlington holds a story of service and sacrifice, and that the rituals of honor are carried out with care and intention, even in the midst of so many thousands. There was something deeply grounding about walking through a place like this. The silence, the care, and the sense of shared memory stretch far beyond the boundaries of the cemetery. It’s a place that demands for reverence—and one that offers perspective. Old Town Alexandria After the quiet reverence of Arlington, we made our way to a very different kind of historic place—The Wharf in D.C. Set along the Potomac River, the area is a mix of waterfront charm with modern bustle. Even on a Tuesday afternoon, the energy was lively—people strolling the boardwalk, kids playing near the fountains, boats docking and setting off, and outdoor diners enjoying the view. It was easy to imagine how this place hums on evenings and weekends, with live music, busy patios, and the glow of string lights reflecting on the water. We stopped to learn about The Maine Lobsterman, a statue that serves as a tribute to America's maritime heritage and the enduring connection between Washington's waterfront and the nation's fishing communities. The statue comes with a funny and obscure backstory. You can watch a short video about it HERE. We thoroughly enjoyed walking through the Municipal Fish Market at The Wharf , the oldest continuously operating open-air fish market in the United States. Established in 1805, it has long served as a central hub for fresh seafood in the capital. Its colorful stalls offer everything from just-caught crabs and oysters to shrimp skewers and chowders, making us hungry to taste some of the fresh fare. We stopped for lunch at Kirwan’s on the Wharf - another perfect referral from Breely. It's a cozy and authentic Irish pub nestled along the waterfront. The interior was crafted by Irish carpenters who brought over furnishings, woodwork, and décor directly from Ireland, including every bar, tile, table, chair, panel, and photograph.  Check out some of my favorite fellas hanging around on the wall.  The pub features three distinct bars, each with its own unique ambiance.  The blend of salvaged and new wood, Irish floor tiles, and light fixtures gives the pub a truly Irish feel. The website claims the menu features traditional mainstays of Irish cuisine with a unique, modern touch, and the fare and drinks we sampled definitely lived up to the claim. The calamari with cherry peppers and boom boom sauce was spot on, as were the fish and chips. The Galway Girl they served is now one of my all-time favorite coctails. After strolling the Wharf to work off our lunch, we boarded a ferry to Old Town Alexandria. The short ride offered fresh air and views of the city from the water before delivering us to the cobbled streets and colonial charm of Alexandria's downtown and nationally-designated historic district on the Potomac River waterfront. With no set agenda, we wandered at our own pace—ducking into independently-owned boutiques and bookstores, admiring colorful doors and iron balconies, and soaking in the character of the historic brick buildings along the King Street Mile. On our ferry ride back to The Wharf, the day began to shift into the golden hour, and we were treated to a spectacular show on the water. Dozens of sailboats danced across the river, darting in and out among ferries and other boats with effortless grace. Watching their white sails catch the fading light was the perfect way to end the day and our time in D.C.—peaceful, beautiful, and a little bit magical. Up next: Virginia and Tennessee. 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We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Note: This post is more personal and falls into the Place Marks - Gathering Around the Table category as it focuses on the time we spent with Josh and Ariel at her family farm in Pennsylvania. Some stops on our journey aren’t just about the miles—they’re about the moments that ground us in love, memory, and family. This one was different. We met up with our son Josh and his fiancee' Ariel at her grandmother’s farm in Rockton, Pennsylvania—a place rich with roots and stories, laughter and loss. The past few months have brought Ariel’s family its share of heartache. She recently lost both an uncle and an aunt—one from each side of her family—both of whom played significant roles in raising her alongside her beloved grandmother. Not long after, her grandmother suffered a stroke, leaving the family shaken once again. And yet, here in this quiet corner of Pennsylvania, healing is taking shape. Ariel and Josh just returned from a trip to the Teton Mountains, the very place where they first met. And while there, they got engaged! Now they’re in the joyful whirlwind of planning a wedding. The timing of our visit felt like a gentle intersection of past, present, and future—grief and joy sitting side by side. And we are getting another daughter! We visited Gram today, and to our delight, her resilient spirit had returned. She was up and about, chatting warmly with us, drinking her coffee with the same right hand doctors once feared might never work again. She even played a round of bingo—smiling, alert, unmistakably herself. Later in the day, we walked up the hillside just above the family farm to visit the small, timeworn cemetery where Ariel’s Aunt Cindy was recently laid to rest. It’s a humble place—quiet and tucked away—with a peaceful view of the pond below. Though the cemetery is rarely used now, several of the aging headstones were marked with flags in honor of Memorial Day weekend. The gentle flutter of red, white, and blue stood in silent tribute, reminding us that memory has a way of lingering in even the quietest corners. We paused there for a long while, letting the stillness settle over us. We remembered Aunt Cindy not only as a loving presence, but as the one who had quietly stepped in to hold the family together when Gram began to slow down. As Gram—the glue that bound everyone to the farm—aged and became less able to manage the yard, flowers, and household, Cindy took over with care and grace. She prepared incredible Sunday dinners, tended to Gram, kept the farmhouse and yard in beautiful shape, and spent many peaceful hours on the front porch, surrounded by blooms and looking out over her horses. She didn’t just fill Gram’s shoes; she carried on Gram’s heartwork, quietly and faithfully. Wandering among the old markers, we traced softened names and dates with our eyes, marveling at the lives remembered in stone. There was comfort in the continuity of it all—generations resting beneath the same sky, still keeping watch over the land they once called home. Down at the pond, Ariel picked up her fishing pole and cast a line into the calm water. The ripples spread gently across the surface as she waited. It felt like a kind of prayer. A way to honor the past, while holding space for the simple joys that remain. There was something sacred in the simplicity of the day's moments: sipping coffee with Gram, laughing over a spirited game of 42, lingering outside in the hush of the countryside, simply being together. These were the quiet rituals of family—the way we show up for one another, the way we hold each other up without needing grand gestures. Even the farm seemed to respond, as if it, too, was exhaling. What had once felt weighted by loss now stirred with gentle signs of life, resilience, and love. On Sunday, several members of Ariel’s family gathered at the farmhouse. We enjoyed meeting everyone, sharing stories, and sitting down together for a classic Memorial Day meal—grilled ribs, corn on the cob, potato salad, and beans. Between bites and laughter, the conversation turned to wedding plans. We talked about setting a date for this new chapter—right here on the land that holds so much family history. There was talk of dresses, flowers, food, and of course, the perfect spot on the property for the ceremony. It felt like a full-circle moment: honoring the past while making space for the future. Love, after all, is what roots us—and what keeps us growing. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. After a nearly 600-mile haul in a single day, crossing from Missouri through Illinois and Indiana and into Ohio, our arrival at Wolfie’s Campground couldn’t have been more perfect .   We had called ahead to let them know we’d be arriving after 6 p.m. The friendly voice on the other end informed us of an exit closure and provided us with specific instructions for the best way to avoid the traffic on our way in, then told us our site map and gate codes would be waiting in the mailbox. But to our surprise, on arrival a friendly young woman was standing outside to greet us, map in hand and a smile ready. Moments later, the owner stepped out of his house to personally guide us to our beautiful pull-through site—complete with an incredible view. And just when we thought the welcome couldn’t get any warmer, our neighbors walked over as we parked to ask if we’d eaten—and offered us some leftover pasta salad from their group’s dinner. Now that’s  hospitality. After a quick set up, I returned the pasta bowl with some fresh squash from our garden and we visited with our neighbors, Bill and Jim and their wives, who are using the campground as a starting point for motorcycle rides to explore the area and enjoy local activities. We had a quick dinner of homemade tomato soup with French bread leftover from one of our dinners at Berry Bend, and the wonderful pasta salad, and relaxed with a glass of wine as we enjoyed our beautiful surroundings. Our plans for the day: explore the campground, do some laundry and some grocery shopping, then head to Rockton, PA, to see our kids and meet more of Ariel's family. So this post will mostly be a plug for Wolfie's Campground. If you are ever in the area, it's a must-stop and stay. The campground is family owned and run, and owners have enhanced the natural beauty of the surroundings with appropriately placed and meticulously manicured landscaping. In addition to beautiful RV sites - check out our view right after sunrise - they offer tent camping and primitive cabins, and their restrooms and laundry facilities are immaculate. The camp store offers ice, firewood, propane, RV parts, snacks, and souvenirs, and the campground hosts themed weekends with kids crafts and live music on holidays. In addition to a heated saltwater pool, the campground offers a game room with ping pong, air hockey and other games, an outdoor game center with cornhole, disc golf and remote control off-road track. And, there is a playground complete with pirate-themed playground alongside swings, monkey bars and seesaw reminiscent of our own elementary school days. We thoroughly enjoyed our one-night stay and will definitely make this a pin on our map for when we are back in the area. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks - Feeding Our Wanderlust Category as  blog entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Park #2 - Harry S. Truman State Park I Know a Guy Reunion These guys—all recently retired—spent seven weeks together last November at the National RV Training Academy , learning the ins and outs of RV service and repair. Since then, each has gone on to make his mark as a Mobile RV Technician in a different part of the country. But even as they hit the road solo, they stayed connected. Whenever one of them faced a tricky customer question, the answer was often, "I'm not sure, but I know a guy who can help."  That simple phrase became their go-to—and their group chat became a lifeline for real-time troubleshooting and support. And just like that, the “I Know a Guy” Annual Reunion  was born. Brian and Sandy Franksain and Bo, Pennsylvania Louie and Lisa Romero, Idaho Jerry and Nicola Pacheco and Benton, North Carolina Brian Salter, Nicola's dad, who is 80 and drove his own RV to the reunion. Albert reunion Activities There’s something special about friendships that form in unexpected places—like the five-week training program a year ago. What started as casual conversations between sessions quickly turned into real connections, and recently, we turned those connections into a full-blown reunion in the great outdoors. We unplugged from our daily routines and plugged into something far more meaningful: shared meals, late-night campfire chats, hiking adventures, music, games, and plenty of laughter. Out in nature, without distractions, we deepened old bonds, strengthened new ones, and reminded ourselves how powerful it is to simply be  together. Here's how we spent our time: Fierce cornhole competition. Lots of long walks. Eating Drinking Music Making Hiking Campfire Sitting Games and more games. More eating. Napping More napping. Sunrise watching. Fishing Plant gathering for tincture making. Mullein - looks a lot like Lamb's Ear. Tincture for Respiratory Issues Wash and dry mullein. Cut it into small pieces and stuff into a mason jar. Cover with 100 proof vodka. Let it sit for 6-8 weeks, shaking occasionally. Dosage: One medicine dropper under the tongue every 2-4 hours until symptoms improve. Enjoying historical Warsaw, MO Benton County Veterans Memorial On Monday, rainy weather interrupted our outdoor plans, so we made the short drive into Warsaw hunting for some history and local fare. We learned a lot about Harry S. Truman and toured the town square, centered around the courthouse and the Veterans Memorial. And More Eating... at The Landing overlooking Drake Harbor Owners of this restaurant source all ingredients from local producers. They don't own a deep fryer or a freezer, so every dish is fresh and the menu depends on what's available. They serve a variety of craft beers, all from local breweries. With nine in our party, we enjoyed a large variety from the menu and left with full bellies and pleased pallets. Berry Bend Campground The drive into Harry S Truman State Park sets the tone beautifully—it's a winding, shaded, and narrow road that immediately evokes a sense of peace and tranquility. We stayed on Loop C, Site 74. The park hosts were friendly and attentive, making us feel welcome from the start. All the campsites we saw were spacious, well-shaded, and offered plenty of room between neighbors, providing a real sense of privacy. Coddiwomple loves large sites with lots of shade. Showers and restrooms were conveniently located and impressively clean. I always look for showers with private dressing areas, and this park did not disappoint. The park itself features extensive lake frontage, miles of paved walking trails, playgrounds, and stunning sunrises. A diverse mix of trees, birds, and wildlife adds to the natural beauty. Amenities also include laundry facilities and a small convenience store. Warsaw, the nearest town with a grocery store, is about 8 miles away—roughly a 20-minute drive. Clear waters, dramatic bluffs, and the vibrant colors of summer and fall make this park an ideal vacation destination. Situated on a peninsula, it offers a marina, excellent fishing and boating opportunities, and water that's perfect for all types of swimmers. Hiking trails, picnic areas, and campsites are nestled among open oak woodlands, home to abundant wildlife. Harry S. Truman State Park Hiking Trails We hiked two trails: 1000th Mile Trail with the entire group, and the slightly more strenuous Bluff Ridge Trail with a smaller group One note: cell service is poor throughout the park, but Starlink Roaming Satellite worked well for us. We're off tomorrow to Hannibal, Missouri. I can't wait to catch up with Tom and Huck. Come along for the ride! Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email or social media account. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

If you've been following along, you know we wrapped up our time at Harry S. Truman State Park and were gearing up to head to Hannibal. Of course, no good travel story is complete without a little chaos—and Mother Nature really delivered. Just as we were settling in for the night, our peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted by a tornado warning. Nothing says “vacation” like grabbing your loved ones, your flashlight, and heading to the shower house for shelter in the dark and pouring rain. We huddled there with other campers, grateful for the sturdy cinderblock walls and slightly less grateful for the flickering fluorescent lights. Though tornadoes did touch down nearby—causing major damage in some parks and campgrounds—we were fortunate. Our park was hit with strong straight-line winds, which still packed a punch: power lines down, trees uprooted, and limbs everywhere. It looked like a tree-themed game of pick-up sticks out there. Thankfully, our campers were unharmed, and we emerged from the shower house (a little groggy and a lot grateful) to find everything intact. The roads, however, were a different story—blocked by fallen debris and power lines. Spencer jumped in to help park workers clear a path, proving once again that he's never met a chainsaw or a challenge he didn’t like. Cat had a narrow escape from this tree - but she is safe and sound and back on the road! Meanwhile, the rest of our group had planned to stay a few more days at nearby Berry Bend—until the power went out and the park closed for safety reasons. Instead of toughing it out, they decided to join us in Hannibal. We were surprised—and very happy—to see them roll into The Mark Twain Cave Campground, eager to join our trek back in time to visit Tom and Huck's stomping grounds. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time. This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks – Feeding Our Wanderlust  category, as entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll also be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook, and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Note for my non-literary travel friends: This post leans a little more literary than most—because when an English teacher camps in Mark Twain’s hometown, it’s impossible not to geek out a little. Even if you’re not a fan of Twain and you've never read any of his works, I hope you’ll still enjoy the photos, the charm of Hannibal, and a peek into the world that shaped one of America’s most iconic authors. After years of teaching—and loving—Twain’s Tom Sawyer  and Huck Finn , our visit to Hannibal felt like stepping straight into the pages of American literary history. This wasn’t just another stop on our road trip—it was a homecoming of sorts. I first met Huck and Tom as a teenager, drawn in by their mischief and charm, but it wasn’t until I became an English teacher that I began to see Twain’s deeper currents: the biting satire, the layered humor, and the cultural commentary hiding behind every fence whitewashed and every raft set afloat. We loved our stay at the Mark Twain Cave Campground Complex . Our site was tucked under a canopy of shade trees along a quiet creek, where the soft sound of water and rustling leaves made for peaceful mornings and cool afternoons. Cottonwood blossoms drifted through the air like slow-motion confetti—one of those small, magical details that make camping feel like stepping into a story. The restrooms and laundry facilities were impressively clean and well-maintained, which made a big difference after a day of exploring Hannibal. It’s a simple, charming place with just the right mix of comfort and natural beauty—a perfect base for diving into Twain country. Just minutes from the Mississippi, the campground made an ideal base to explore the town that both shaped—and was shaped by—Twain’s imagination. With every step along the riverfront and through the historic streets, familiar stories resurfaced, echoing the wit and depth I’ve taught and treasured for years. Into the Darkness: Walking Through Twain’s Imagination The Mark Twain Cave isn’t just a tourist stop—it’s a portal into the pages of Tom Sawyer  and Huckleberry Finn , where fact and fiction twist together like the tunnels themselves. Unlike any cave we’ve visited before, it’s bone-dry, carved from Louisiana Lithographic Limestone—a type of rock found nowhere else on earth. No stalagmites. No dripping ceilings. Just narrow, winding corridors where light disappears behind you faster than it should. “It was a tangled wilderness of narrow and lofty clefts and passages.”— The Adventures of Tom Sawyer This description perfectly captures the cave’s complex and difficult-to-navigate nature. As we moved through its shadowed halls, it became clear why Twain’s characters could so easily get lost in this labyrinth. “It was an easy place to get lost in.”— The Adventures of Tom Sawyer Indeed, the winding paths and sudden turns made disorientation almost inevitable—just as it was for Tom, Becky, and Huck in the stories. “Lofty passages, its silence and solitude, its shrouding gloom, its sepulchral echoes, its fleeting lights, and more than all, its sudden revelations.”— The Adventures of Tom Sawyer These words sum up the cave’s haunting atmosphere—the stillness that presses close, the faint echoes that bounce unpredictably, and the flickers of light that appear and vanish as if the cave itself were alive with secrets. “One might wander days and nights together through its intricate tangle of rifts and chasms, and never find the end of the cave.”— The Adventures of Tom Sawyer The vastness of the cave feels almost endless. As we explored, it was easy to imagine Twain as a boy, slipping through these very passages, dreaming up tales of adventure, fear, and hidden treasure. We walked through the real-life room that inspired the robbers' den where Tom and Huck planned their imaginary crimes—cool and hushed, with graffiti stretching back through generations. As Huck recalled: “Tom Sawyer called the cave his ‘robbers’ den’ and said we had to swear an oath and sign it in blood.”— The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn We stood in the fictional tunnel where Tom and Huck discovered gold, and in the tight passage where Tom and Becky became hopelessly lost in the dark. At one point, the guide turned out the lights. The darkness was immediate and complete—so thick it felt like a weight. We could almost hear Tom whispering to Becky, trying to be brave as they hid from the famous Injun Joe. It’s easy to imagine 19th-century kids sneaking into these tunnels with candle stubs and more nerve than sense, hoping to get lost on purpose just to scare each other. Authenticated signature of Jesse James on the cave wall in his hideout. Even Jesse James is said to have used the cave as a hideout. Twain himself wandered these tunnels as a boy, and it’s no wonder he filled them with mystery, fear, and treasure. Stepping back into the daylight after our cave tour felt like coming up for air—not just from the darkness, but from deep inside Twain’s imagination. With the echoes of Tom and Becky’s adventure still in our ears, we emerged ready to see the town that shaped so many of his stories. Hannibal, with its postcard-perfect charm and literary echoes, stretches along the Mississippi River. From the cave’s darkness, we climbed to literal heights at the Mark Twain Memorial Lighthouse , which offers sweeping views of the town and river. It’s a bit of a climb (244 steps, if you’re counting), but worth every one for the chance to stand where sky meets story. From there, we strolled the Mississippi Riverfront, imagining Huck and Jim setting off on their raft, chasing freedom on the water. The Mississippi rolls on—broad, restless, full of contradiction. It’s no wonder Twain made it a character in its own right. A Captain of the River and of Words Just a short walk from the riverbank, we stopped to admire the statue of Mark Twain as a riverboat captain —a striking tribute to the man who once dreamed of navigating the Mississippi long before he steered America’s imagination. Standing tall in his crisp uniform, one hand resting on the wheel, Twain looks out over the river that shaped so much of his life and writing. It’s easy to forget, amid the fame and the fiction, that Twain once trained as a steamboat pilot. He knew the river not just as a symbol, but as a living, unpredictable force—full of danger, beauty, and mystery. The statue captures that reverence. It’s not just a memorial; it’s a reminder that before there were books, there was the river—and before there was Mark Twain, there was Sam Clemens, a young man learning to read the bends and currents like a language all their own. We wandered the same streets where a young Sam Clemens once roamed barefoot, long before he took on the name Mark Twain. Mark Twain's Boyhood home still stands, modest and whitewashed, on a quiet street that feels suspended in time. Inside, exhibits tell the story of a mischievous boy who would one day give America some of its most unforgettable characters. Just steps away is a replica of Huck Finn’s house —weathered and humble, a physical reminder of the lives Twain portrayed with such honesty and complexity. Between those two homes, fact and fiction start to blur. It’s easy to imagine Tom’s laughter ringing out or Huck sneaking off toward the river with mischief in mind. And yes—the fence  is there. The fence . The one from that  scene—the whitewashing scene that every student remembers. I couldn’t resist pausing for a photo. Even after all these years and all those classroom discussions, I still love the cleverness of Tom’s scam, turning a chore into a privilege with nothing but charm and confidence. And there’s more I snapped photos of but can’t fully fit here: the Mark Twain Memorial Bridge, Grant’s Drug Store (where the Clemens family stayed during tough times), Twain’s father’s law office, Becky Thatcher’s house, and striking murals across town. The street lamps along Main Street and throughout the historic district are adorned with banners boasting some of Twain's most famous sayings - a thoroughly enjoyable stroll. Just down the block, we visited a more somber and essential part of the story: Jim’s Journey: The Huck Finn Freedom Center . This small but powerful museum centers the life and legacy of Daniel Quarles, the man believed to have inspired Twain’s character Jim, and it honors the real people whose stories are often left at the margins of American literature. Inside, the exhibits invite visitors to see Jim not just as a character—but as a man, a father, a friend, and a symbol of resilience. It’s a necessary counterbalance to the more lighthearted adventures of Tom and Huck. Because as much as The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn  is about mischief and river rafting, it’s also a profound reckoning with conscience, race, and freedom. I found myself thinking of that unforgettable moment on the raft—just Huck and Jim, drifting down the Mississippi. Huck is torn between the values he’s been taught and the bond he’s formed with Jim. When he decides not to betray Jim’s location, even though he believes he’s doing something wrong, he says: “All right, then, I’ll go to hell.” That line has stopped me in my tracks every time I’ve read it, and standing in front of the Freedom Center, it hit even harder. It’s the moment - one of my favorite in all of literature - when Huck chooses Jim’s humanity over the twisted morality of his time. Visiting this space reminded me that stories can entertain and still ask hard questions—and that reading them, teaching them, and now visiting the places that inspired them is part of that journey. Not far from the river, Lover’s Leap offers sweeping views and stories of its own—romantic, tragic, and steeped in that same Twain-esque mix of legend and truth. Standing on that bluff, you can feel the weight of stories—old and new—floating on the breeze. And I got to take a minute to kiss my honey and express thankfulness for the stories we are still sharing and the memories we are making. I was so disappointed to find the Cave Hollow Winery closed until Labor Day Weekend, but my disappointment quickly turned to excitement when I found a selection of their wine in the Campground Giftshop. Check out my favorite: They also have these appropriately-named selections: The Mighty River, which is a rolling red; Satire; The Jumping Frog; Lighthouse White, The Gilded Page; and An Innocent Broad. And that name reminds me, that on our town tour we stopped into the Mark Twain Book and Gift Shop on North Main, where I was allowed to thumb through a first edition of The Innocents Abroad . I couldn't afford to buy it, but just seeing the publication date and touching the pages was amazing. We also had a nice brunch at the Becky Thatcher diner . If you're ever in Hannibal, don't miss the onion rings! After brunch, we enjoyed wandered around the cave complex, enjoying the beautiful weather and basking in the small-town atmosphere. Our visit to Hannibal gave me a deeper appreciation for Twain—not just as a writer, but as a sharp observer of the world around him. Seeing the Mississippi up close, wandering the same streets that inspired St. Petersburg, and standing where young Sam Clemens once stood made this visit unforgettable. It reminded me why I fell for literature in the first place—and why Twain’s stories always call me back. Come follow us on our road trip. Next stop: Wolfie's Campground, Zanesville, OH. Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.

We’ve hit the road on our first big adventure with Coddiwomple (our trusty pickup), Cat (our cozy RV), and Rita, our ever-faithful travel companion. We rolled out of Belton on May 15, and we’re excited to share the journey—one stop at a time! This blog will mostly fall into the Mile Marks - Feeding Our Wanderlust Category as blog entries will be organized by the places we stay in our home on wheels. However, I’ll be sharing stories about the amazing people we meet, the beautiful places we explore, and, of course, the delicious food we find, cook and enjoy. I hope you come along for the ride. Park #1 - Eufaula Cove RV Park in Eufaula, Oklahoma . We booked this tiny, family owned RV park early in our planning stages. I knew we would only be staying a few hours - long enough to sleep - but I'm aiming for parks in remote areas or small towns that are near water or accessible to hiking trails. I spoke to Pat on the phone and knew immediately we would be happy at his park. It is located in Eufaula, population 2000-something, and the park sits right on a cove of Eufaula Lake , an enormous fingerling lake known for great fishing throughout Oklahoma. We originally agreed to meet Pat downtown at his ice cream shop to provide our driver's license and insurance information and receive our our RV spot. When we were a couple hours out Pat texted to let us know our spot number and said we could just text him our information and go straight to the RV park. We arrived around 4 p.m. after a drive straight through the middle of Eufaula to find we were one of two residents at the park, nestled right on a cove of the lake. We parked and as we were setting up, we met our neighbor, Bill Renfro, who is living here for a few months as he recovers from a broken hip. Bill Renfro He is 89, lives in his Class A Motorhome, and seems to spend most of his time fishing. Today, his catch was a small bass and a couple of catfish. He was eager to visit, and definitely has some interesting stories to share. On our drive in and as we were parking we noticed lots of flooding, and according to Bill, this area received more than 20 inches of rain in April. The view from our campsite. The road next to us and all the picnic area is flooded, but the mountains in the east are amazing. I can't wait to see the sun rise tomorrow morning. After we set up and had a quick look around, we headed out, on Bill's recommendation, to Captain John's Seafood Restaurant , right next to the marina and not even 1/2 mile from our RV park. Every restaurant in Eufaula is within walking distance of this gem of a park. The restaurant, along with everything else adjacent to the lake, is flooded, but is still booming. The lower deck used for live music and concerts is underwater, but the restaurant owners have built a temporary bridge and are still serving up some amazing fare. Kudos to the staff: when we asked the hostess for a table outside, she started to explain that none were available—but just then, a kind young man came over and offered to clean one off for us right away if we didn’t mind waiting a moment. True to his word, we were seated within minutes and got to enjoy the fresh air and waterfront view. The restaurant sits right on the water, with a casual, welcoming vibe. The place was buzzing with families soaking up the beautiful weather, sharing laughter and good food. We were lucky to be served by a young woman named Jalen, an OU student spending her summer working at the restaurant. She was an absolute delight—friendly, attentive, and knowledgeable. Jalen answered all our questions with ease, offered thoughtful suggestions, and made sure we had everything we needed throughout our meal. Spencer ordered the pork chop, which came with a baked potato and jalapeño cornbread. I went with the catfish, served alongside red beans and rice and a sweet, buttery corn on the cob. Every bite was as satisfying as the service. If you're ever passing through Eufaula, it's worth a stop. After dinner, we took Rita for a quick walk along the lake near our park, then sat outside enjoying the cool weather and the magnificent view, interrupted only by dozens of ducks and geese passing by with their goslings in tow. Photos don't do justice to nature, but Spencer and I spent 30 minutes discussing where the sun would be coming up and then enjoying it's slow rise. Retirement goals! Follow My Blog To follow the blog, click Log In on the task bar and sign up with your email or social media account. I'll send you a notification when I post a new entry.