Dauphin Island, Alabama, May 18-25, 2026 These guys—recently retired—spent seven weeks together in November, 2024 at the National RV Training Academy, learning the ins and outs of RV service and repair. Since then, each has built a built a business as a Mobile RV Technician in a different part of the country. But they have 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." Their group chat became a lifeline for real-time troubleshooting and support. Last year, the “I Know a Guy” Annual Reunion was born. This year, because we have all formed businesses, our Reunion has evolved into an annual Conference. We met at Bay Palms RV Resort on Dauphin Island in Alabama. Louie and Lisa were unable to attend this year, and we sorely missed our honorary members Brian Salter and Albert, who we know enjoyed watching our activities from Heaven. Day 1-May 18 Set up and welcome activities Work Session 1-class A airbags, electric entry step repair Teambuilding session 1-Go @#$% Yourself Competition Meals on your own Even on the first night, the guys immediately settled into a familiar ritual that began in during their training: chasing down minor mechanical mysteries. First on the list was the entry step on Brian and Sandy’s rig, which, thankfully, needed only a little troubleshooting and a quick repair before it was working again. Day. 2-May 19 Work Session 2-7-pin trailer light troubleshooting Work Session 3-cable drain valves Teambuilding Session 2-scouted the five beaches of Dauphin Island, pool time Team Meal -chicken Alfredo, garlic bread, peach margarita, beer I didn’t realize until we reached Dauphin Island that one small strip of sand could house so many different types of beach. Every one felt like its own little world. The pier leading toward Middle Beach stretched straight out and never covered any water. Instead, the whole landscape below us was wide flats of pale sand, scrub grass, and patches of marsh. By the time we reached the end, the parking lot and road behind us had nearly disappeared into the heat haze, but the beach itself still felt far away. The pier carried us over dunes that looked like a pin cushion filled. Finally, the Gulf revealed itself beyond the last rise. Even then, we had to climb down and keep walking, crossing soft dunes filled with the smell of salt and warm grass. When we finally reached the water, we decided we had earned the right to walk on in. The farther we walked, the quieter everything became. The giant boulders at the East End looked almost out of place at first, piled along the shoreline like somebody had dropped part of a mountain into the Gulf. We climbed out on them on our first evening near Fort Gaines while the tide pushed through the gaps in the rocks below us. The stones were sun-bleached and rough, and people scattered themselves across the rocks. What I remember most was the sound. Waves crashing against rock instead of sand changed everything. The water didn’t roll in softly on this beach; it slammed, and sprayed upward in bursts that smelled like salt and seaweed. Day 3-May 20 Work Session 4-air conditioners, tankless water heaters Teambuilding Session 4- South Beach, ice cream, pool time Team Meal-Shrimp Boil with Boudin & fresh tomato appetizer, raspberry margarita, beer On Day 3, we spent several hours on the main public beach, which reminded me of summertime in earlier years. We hauled Sandy's wagon through the sand. Our coolers were full, and the sun baked salt and sand into our skin. We spent hours there, going back and forth between the water and our chairs while the afternoon heat settled over everything. We finished the day with a true Texas Shrimp Boil - a first time experience for the folks from Pennsylvania and North Carolina. Day 4-May 21 Work Session 5-Trailer Hitches Teambuilding Session 5-Girls spa day with Foxy’s Waffle Bar and Sugar Den brunch; guys visit Fort Gaines with lunch at Capt’n Snapper’s Marina Bar and Grill Team Meal-Chicken Fried Rice, grapefruit margarita, beer Day four turned into a perfect balance of maintenance work and vacation — which seems to happen naturally anytime we meet up. The morning started with another work session, this time focused on trailer hitches. These are not a normal campground repair sessions. There are tools spread out on picnic tables, everyone offers opinions, and eventually the come to a consensus on how to complete the task. Later in the morning our group split for different versions of relaxation. The girls headed for brunch at Foxy's Waffle Bar & Sugar Den, with oversized waffles, followed by a spa outing at Sun Kissed Salon and Boutique , where we received attentive care and all the gossip and cackling of a typical small-town salon. We got a real glimpse into life of locals on the island. This was small-town Alamaba at its best! We ended with a visit to the local farmer's market, Market in Green Park. Meanwhile, the guys headed to Fort Gaines, and spent time wandering the old brick corridors before settling in for lunch at Capt'n Snapper's Marina Bar & Grill overlooking the water. Built in the early 1800s and best known for its role in the Civil War during the Battle of Mobile Bay, the fort's design is famous for its thick brick walls and the angled gun positions facing the channel. At the top, the structure stretches out over the water, like the whole fort was built not just on land, but pressed right up against the Gulf itself. When we asked about the fort, the guys were completely absorbed in the strange details. It wasn’t the cannons or battle stories they talked about first — it was the long row of solid wooden toilet seats built over the old latrines, lined up side by side with absolutely no privacy whatsoever. Apparently the tide used to wash through beneath them each day, carrying everything back out to the bay. They were definitely crude and probably miserable to use, but definitely efficient. They said the toilets, especially, made it easy to picture the fort as a place where people actually lived and worked in between moments of fear and preparation. They also talked about the spiral cement staircase winding tightly upward inside the fort walls. That evening everyone came back together around the campground for chicken fried rice, cold beer, and grapefruit margaritas as the sun went down. Day 5-May 22 Work Session 6-QuickBooks & Tax Planning Teambuilding Session 6-Cornhole Competition, pool time Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches, On the Rocks cocktails Day 5 opened with a familiar rhythm set by the week. Our morning work session focused on QuickBooks and tax planning with spreadsheets and projections spread out alongside coffee cups and laptops on the picnic table. By afternoon, everything shifted back into vacation mode. The cornhole boards came out and quickly turned into a full competition, marked by a variety of skill and friendly trash talk. Jerry is the certified champion of both single and double play. When we weren't playing, we floated in the pool, talking and listening to music or the sounds of the game nearby. Later, everyone gathered again for Philly cheesesteak sandwiches, followed by On the Rocks cocktails provided by Brian and Sandy. Who knew there were cocktails with our very own brand? Day 6-May 23 Work Session 7-Wheel bearings, brakes Teambuilding Session 7-Explore Historic Mobile Team Meal-Leftover Potluck Day 6 began with wheel bearings and brake discussion: jacks, lug nuts, wheels, and all kinds of practical problem-solving tips and advice. In late morning, we headed into Mobile for some sightseeing. We started at Mardi Gras Park, then moved through History Museum of Mobile We strolled through exhibits and murals like Power of Education and Local Opinion, along with civil rights displays that spoke plainly about the value of a human life. We loved the hollowed-out canoes set up to show the simple, tools that were tied to a much older way of moving through the coastal world. Next, we visited Colonial Fort Conde and took a guided tour of the Condé-Charlotte Museum House, where narrow rooms and preserved details showcase the city’s long and complicated past as a French, British, and Spanish outpost. TOURIST TIP: We purchased an all-in-one pass a the visitor center. It is not well advertised, but it provides access to 10+ sites for one price. We didn't see them all, but the ticket more than paid for itself. Lunch was at Squid Ink, where we sat outside at the swinging street tables, watching downtown drift past while enjoying our drinks and appetizers. Later, we made our way to Battleship Memorial Park, where the USS Alabama and USS Drum are anchored. Especially cool was the Alabama Poppy Project set up for Memorial Day. Before heading back, we stopped for a relaxed late-day break at LoDa Bier Garten, which featured more than 100 beers on draft and amazing food. By evening, back at the campground, we grazed on leftover potluck. No planning, just a spread of whatever remained from the week. Day 7-May 24 Work Session 8-RV kitchen gadgets, RV grills Teambuilding Session 8-Dutch Blitz Competition Team Meal-Dority’s, blackberry peach margaritas, beer For the final day, the morning work session was all about RV kitchen gadgets and grills, and we shared tips, hints and recipes, along with ideas for storage and packing for travel. We gathered at Dority's for the final team meal at lunch: fried rice with shrimp, chicken, and lo mien with egg rolls. Teambuilding came in the form of one last Dutch Blitz competition. If you've never played, it is fast, loud and very chaotic. Cards flew and people argued over scores that didn't matter. We spent the afternoon enjoying margaritas with fresh peaches and blackberries from the island market mixed right there between RVs and folding chairs. The next morning, we said our goodbyes and made plans to meet up for I know a Guy Convention 2027.

Stop 1: Lost Frontier RV PArk and Bar & Grill, Hemphill, TX We left Belton early on Thursday, May 14, and headed east on Highway 7, purposely choosing the slower backroad route instead of the interstate. It was a good choice as we passed through a string of small Texas communities with old downtown squares, locally owned shops, and beautiful courthouses that reminded us of every festival, parade, and Friday night gathering in our hometown of Hamilton. Our first stop was Lost Frontier RV Park and Bar near the shores of the Toledo Bend Reservoir. Our site sat right on the reservoir, with the water only a few steps from the RV. After setting up camp, we walked down to the dock to watch the sunset settle over the lake. Spencer squeezed in a quick swim and a leap from the dock before we headed to our chairs to watch the day end. As the sun went down, fishermen were casting their last lines from paddle boats. Every so often, the white bellies of massive alligator gar would roll just beneath the surface, flashing so white they looked silver in the fading light. We started the next morning by watching the sun come up over the lake, followed by a quick walk around the park, then a trip to fill up ($5.44 for diesel) and explore the area. The causeway between Texas and Louisiana across the Toledo Bend Reservoir on the Sabine River is more than 2 miles long. Driving across, it felt like we were driving across the middle of the lake. Water stretched out on both sides so far it was hard to tell where Texas ended and Louisiana began. There were boats all around us, we found out later there was a fishing tournament in progress. The whole surface of the reservoir was calm and still. When we got back, I spent the day reading by the pool. Spencer tinkered with the trailer lights then came to get me for a drink at the on-site bar before we headed back down to the lake to hang our feet off the dock and count our blessings. Then to the camper for a dinner of wings and stir-fried vegetables we brought from our garden. A perfect first stop. Stop 2: River View RV Park & Resort on the Mississippi River, Vidalia, LA Saturday morning, we left we left Toledo Bend Reservoir and stayed mostly off the major highways again, taking Highway 6 through western Louisiana before joining Interstate 49. The two-lane stretch felt like a back road compared to our bustling I35. Before long we were back on smaller roads cutting through the countryside along Highways 28 and 84. The scenery slowly shifted from the piney woods near the reservoir to wide open farmland and small communities. We passed weathered barns, old churches, crawfish ponds, and long stretches of fields with clusters of pecan and oak trees. Every so often there’d be a gas station or café that looked like it had been sitting in the same spot for fifty years. One of our favorites was Jonesville- the largest town in Catahoula Parish, Louisiana, which sits at the joining of the Ouachita, Tensas, and Little rivers. The three rivers become the Black River at Jonesville, and it was rolling with recent rains when we passed through. By the time we reached River View RV Park and Resort, the Mississippi River had replaced the reservoir as a backdrop. The park sits directly along the river, and from our site we watched massive barges slowly pushing their way up and down the water while Natchez rose on the opposite bank. The campground itself was mostly empty and relaxing. Large shade trees cover much of the property, which made the whole place feel cool. One of the best parts was the pool and hot tub area overlooking the river. Sitting in the hot tub while watching barges drift past on the Mississippi felt surreal. The park also has a walking trail that follows the riverbank under the bridge, and in the evening, we wandered down it just to watch the water, the bridge lights, and the river traffic as the sun started going down. On Sunday, we woke up early and hit the streets of Natchez. We parked near Main Street and wandered over trails filled with history. We walked the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, stopping every few feet to read the historical markers along the trail — stories about river trade, steamboats, cotton fortunes, floods, and the complicated history that made Natchez what it is today. The river moved slow and muddy below us, with barges that seemed to be barely moving. Then we made our way down Silver Street toward the old “Under-the-Hill” district, that was once infamous for gamblers, drifters, riverboat crews, thieves, and just about every other kind of troublemaker moving up and down the Mississippi. Back in the steamboat days, this was the rough edge of town — the place respectable folks pretended not to know about after dark. Travel writer William Richardson wrote about the area in an 1816 account that it was "...without a single exception the most licentious spot that I ever saw." The district is definitely quieter than it was during the steamboat era, but it still feels like it has stories to tell. We wandered into Under-the-Hill Saloon where, at 10:30 in the morning, locals were already perched at the bar sipping longnecks. Nobody seemed rushed, and they were definitely not at all concerned with the time. The few folks there were friendly and welcoming. There were eager to visit and couldn't wait to point out favorite photographs and relics hanging among the thousands covering the walls and ceiling. The whole place seemed to be layered in stories. Wooden tables had been rubbed so smooth over the years they almost shined. One table even had a small gold plaque declaring it “The Godfather’s Table,” though the locals didn't seem sure whether the story behind it had grown more true or more exaggerated over time. Every inch of the saloon fought for our attention. Old photographs curled at the corners sat on walls beside rusted signs, faded license plates, river relics, and framed newspaper clippings that looked like they’d been hanging there since the stories were still fresh. A carved wooden elephant took center stage in one of the back rooms. Near the bar, I spotted a worn Hemingway novel tucked among the clutter. It didn't look like decoration, and I hoped somebody had actually been reading it between customers. Steamboat memorabilia covered the walls, a jukebox hummed, and an old cigarette machine stood in the corner, still operational. Even in the middle of the morning, the lighting was dim and golden, giving the whole place a permanent late-afternoon feeling. Nothing about it felt polished or manufactured for tourists. It felt lived in and it seemed like the kind of place where stories get repeated often enough that nobody worries much anymore about whether they’re true or just contain truths. We had lunch at the Natchez Brewing Company Taproom and Kitchen, where we met the brewmaster, who had created an amazing Da Shiznits Strawberry Dew-Rita Hard Seltzer on tap that I fell in love with. Spencer tried a few of the local brews and we enjoyed brick-oven pizza. Stop 3: Bay Palms RV Resort, Dauphin Island, Alabama We left Vidalia before 7 a.m. on Monday, crossed the bridge through Natchez, and picked up Highway 61 South before cutting east on 24 through Woodville and Centreville. We were so happy we chose to forego interstates in favor of "the back way" — miles of narrow two-lane country roads with no shoulders and thick trees arching overhead. It was remote and quiet, and small farms appeared between stretches of woods. Every pond and tank full from the spring rains, and everything was lush and green. When we crossed back into Louisiana on Highway 59, everything felt different. Tiny country churches sat beside neatly mowed cemeteries full of bright flowers. There weren’t many towns along the way — just long stretches of rural backroads and good music rolling through the speakers. We had the Red Clay Strays, Jamestown Revival, and Riley Green soundtrack going strong, a perfect backdrop to the slideshow rolling outside our windows. Somewhere around Greensburg, we pulled over for a bag of hot, fresh boiled peanuts at a tiny gas station because apparently that’s just who we are now — fully committed to living our best Cajun-road-trip life. Eventually we hit Interstate 10 near Pascagoula, birthplace of Jimmy Buffett, crossed into Alabama, and finally rolled into Dauphin Island to meet up with our I Know a Guy friends at Bay Palms RV Resort. I Know a Guy RV Repair Company Conference 2026 We met at Bay Palms RV Resort for our Second Annual I know a Guy RV Repair Company Conference, May 18-25. Please click HERE to access the Conference Blog, Minutes, Activities and Photos. Stop 4: Birmingham South RV Park, Pelham, Alabama On Memorial Day, we left Dauphin Island bright and early and took I65 to Montgomery where we planned a quick run through the Legacy Sites. However, the exhibits in the museum literally stopped us in our tracks. The Legacy Sites in Montgomery struck us as different before we ever entered. The buildings and grounds are modern and immaculate, constructed of glass, steel, and polished concrete. Everything felt intentional and restrained, which somehow made the stories inside feel heavier. Nothing distracted from the exhibits. There was no attempt to soften what we were experiencing. What unsettled us most was the silence. It was a silence that settled over us because we were standing inside something important and painful. Throughout the exhibits, museum staff and curators moved quietly dressed entirely in formal black, almost blending into the architecture itself. They spoke softly when needed, but mostly served as part of the atmosphere of the place, which I would describe as—calm, respectful, and sort of ghost-like. Definitely spiritual, but not in an uplifting way. Visiting the Legacy Sites in Montgomery stayed with me in the same way places like Dachau Concentration Camp Memorial Site in Munich and Arlington National Cemetery have stayed with me—not because of similarities, but because each shortens the distance between the past and the present. Walking through the exhibits and memorial spaces in Montgomery, I felt that same heaviness settle in, and Spencer and I both came to the realization that history cannot remain abstract when you are standing where its consequences are displayed so plainly. The place was haunting in the truest sense—deeply human and impossible to move through casually. No photos or videos are allowed inside the museum, but I highly encourage you to visit the website and plan a several-day visit to all of the Legacy Sites in Montgomery. It is worth the trip and I am still, days later, wishing we had allotted more time there. We spent the rest of Memorial Day settling in at Birmingham South RV Park in Pelham, Alabama, where we had a beautiful site right on a creek. On Tuesday we hiked several trails in nearby Oak Mountain State Park, where the canopy felt like a cathedral because it was so thick and high above us that the sunlight barely reached the ground. Tall hardwood trees stretched overhead with their branches intertwining to create a ceiling of leaves that made it feel like we were inside, even in the middel of the afternoon. Our favorite hike was Peavine Falls, which took us straight from the heavy summer heat into coolness. It was a trail that wound steadily downhill through the canopy among sandstone outcroppings, with roots twisted across the path. Long before we could see the falls, we could hear them. Near the bottom, we had to leave the path and make a steep scramble down, picking our way carefully over loose dirt, exposed roots, and slick rocks. But once we reached the bottom, it was worth every careful step. It wasn’t an enormous waterfall by mountain standards, but it felt hidden and wild, and it made us want to be silent and take it all in. We spent a good part of the day climbing around the falls and playing in the stream. Stop 5: Tishomingo State Park, Tishomingo, Mississippi On Wednesday we drove through Birmingham with the camper in tow, hoping to visit more Civil Rights sites and The Vulcan Statue, conceived as Birmingham’s centerpiece for the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis. It was cast from local iron ore mined directly from the area's Red Mountain and is the largest cast iron statue in the world. However, we hit some very narrow streets with tight turns in the downtown area and Spencer said Coddywomple and Cat were not going there, so we found our way to the Interstate and headed back into Mississippi in search of Tishomingo State Park, proclaimed home to the best hiking in the state. We landed at site 59, overlooking the lake, surrounded by trees, and were greeted by an entiretire gaggle? of geese to keep us company. We spent the first afternoon driving the park, strolling across the swinging bridge, and scouting trails. Then we opened a bottle of wine and played some Sequence while we watched the sun go down. After dark, Spencer made us a quick dinner of hamburgers with fresh green beans while I worked on the blog. What makes Tishomingo State Park feel so different from much of Mississippi is the way the landscape suddenly turns rugged. On Thursday, we hiked the CCC Camp Trail Look in the morning. As soon as we hit the trail, we came face to face with massive sandstone outcroppings, their surfaces cracked and layered like ancient stone staircases. We had fun traipsing through narrow passages formed by the huge outcroppings, and enjoyed imagining who could set up camp in the shaded overhangs and caves carpeted with moss. Everywhere, tree roots twisted themselves through the cracks, making it look like the forest was trying to reclaim the stone. The foliage was cool and dense. Towering oak, hickory, maple, and poplar stretched overhead , and the lower spaces close to where we hiked were filled with dogwoods and redbuds and ferns and mountain laurel and wild rhododendron. Even the forest floor was full of detail We were fascinated by the variety of mushrooms, and Spencer took time to capture one of each variety we came across. Some looked like dropped toys against the dark soil and moss-covered stone. Walking through Tishomingo felt like wandering through an old Appalachian woodland that somehow drifted into northern Mississippi. In the afternoon, we hiked the short trail around the lake, then Spencer made us a beautiful picnic to celebrate our last day camping. We sat out late to catch the moon rising through the trees before heading in for the night. The next morning, we left early for a 12-hour trip back to Texas, eager to catch up on our garden and check on the chickens.

Forty years together is a milestone. We've shared days, weathered challenges and enjoyed celebrations. Through it all, one truth stands out: we are soulmates. Our path has not always been easy, but even at a young age, our souls recognized something essential in each other. There’s a sign in our bedroom serves as a gentle reminder that souls don’t worry over calendars, clocks, or miles. Souls simply know when it feels right. A soulmate isn’t someone who slips into your life quietly. Soulmates arrive to shake things up, and to challenge, change, and expand who you are. They break open your heart so light can get in, and in doing so, they help you become better—together. The years have shown us that relationships aren’t built on easy days. Their strength comes from facing the storms side by side, even when tempers flare and tears fall. We haven’t always managed our hardest days with love and care, but have faced each one together. What endures is the choice—day after day, year after year—to hold on to the life we’ve made. From launching a business when we were too young to know better, to raising three remarkable boys, to carving out new adventures in retirement, every chapter has shaped us. Building our tiny home, starting another business, creating time to travel, cherishing moments with our grandsons—each is another chapter in our story. So, as we arrived in Utah late at night to celebrate forty years—just the two of us, waking the next morning to the first snow of the season —it felt like the perfect beginning to another chapter in our journey that we hope to continue for many years - together. Park City We started our morning at Five Seeds, an Australian-inspired café with creative brunch dishes, and fresh, nutrient-packed foods. The restaurant’s décor is modern and full of greenery. We both started with the Aussie-Style Iced Coffee - a signature coffee made of cold brew sweetened with ice cream for a rich unique treat. I ordered the Avo Toast, described as “the most boujee avocado toast in Utah,” made with an avocado-pea mixture, lime, and finished with beet purée, all atop artisan bread. It was scrumptious. Spencer chose The Bacon and Egg Breakfast Sandwich featuring gruyere cheese, chili jam on the Red Bicycle brioche. After breakfast, we set out to explore, and wound up hiking the Daly Trail. The trail and mining area were empty in the early morning, fresh after a snowfall overnight. The world felt quiet as we wound gently into Daly Canyon, the beginning of Park City's mining history, filled with echoes from the past. As we climbed higher, we found relics from the 19th century--mine entryways, old rail car tracks leading into shadowed corridors, and stone walls dusted in snow. We paused often to take pictures of what remains of Park City’s silver rush era. The trail was surrounded by streams with water flowing inside banks that were edged with ice. Being here—just us, felt like a celebration of adventure and a time to reflect. We took time to be grateful for our time together, for our shared history and for the gift of discovering new places. We spent the afternoon on Park City's famous Main Street and it was so fun - an entire afternoon exploring the pubs, browsing the boutiques and soaking in the mountain-town atmosphere. We opted for a casual dinner close to our hotel at the Boneyard Saloon which had an easy mountain-casual feel, created by blended rustic wood with industrial touches, and big open seating. The pizza was delicious. Weber Canyon We started our second day before the sun really got going by driving out through Oakley and Kamas and then into Weber Canyon. The fall colors were showing off in all their glory. By the time we climbed toward the Smith and Morehouse Reservoir the air was thin and cold, and we were surrounded by silence. We are still talking about how peaceful it felt there. The reservoir felt like a hidden pocket. It sits high up in the Wasatch, and was surrounded by fresh snow, bright enough to make us squint. The whole place seemed far away from anything hurried or loud. We learned from signs that long before any of the small towns in the valley existed, the Ute people traveled this corridor, following the river before roads ever carved their way through. Later came the tie-hackers — men who lived and worked deep in the mountains, cutting timber and shaping railroad ties by hand. The reservoir carries the names of two of them, Smith and Morehouse. The canyon holds a feeling of oldness. Salt Lake City & Jack's Mountain Saturday morning, we headed back toward Salt Lake City, aiming for an early morning hike up Jack's Mountain to Jack's Mailbox Peak, a steep little crest tucked right into the foothills above Salt Lake City. The trail heads up fast — a straight shot toward the ridge — and before long the whole valley opened up behind us. The trail was open, weaving past scrub and rock with nothing but blue above us. It’s part of the Wasatch Range. At the top, we reached Jack’s Mailbox, a pair of mailboxes filled with journals and letters left by hikers. It began as a memorial for Jack Edwards, a young boy who died in 1995, and over the years it’s become a quiet place where strangers write down whatever they’re carrying. From the ridge above Salt Lake City, we could view the whole valley, including the city which sits in a clean grid. Farther out, the Great Salt Lake fills the horizon, and the distant islands look like dark silhouettes floating on the lake. It was that view that set the rest of the day in motion: after seeing the Great Salt Lake from the peak, we had to go see it up close. Someone along the trail had recommended breakfast at Over the Counter Cafe, which just fit the bill since we were starving after our hike. I had the BLT and Spencer had something called a Train Wreck. Both meals featured their version of sliced hash brown potatoes - a MUST TRY! Antelope Island State Park As soon as we finished eating, we headed to Antelope Island State Park, anxious to see Salt Lake and hoping for a glimpse of the bison we read roamed wild in the park. Once we arrived into the park, The Great Salt Lake looked like a sheet of hammered silver. It felt like a quiet inland sea, strange, but in a beautiful way. As we drove deeper into the park, the stillness opened up to one of the most unforgettable sights of the trip: Antelope Island’s bison herd. The herd was massive and I can only describe the animals as majestic. They grazed along the roadside beside the great salt lake and wandered across the rolling golden hills we hiked through, and we were able to get sooooo close. Watching them graze felt like stepping into the American West. It was a rare moment in travel when nature humbles you. We watched them for hours, and I could have stayed for days. Fielding Garr Ranch Before heading out, we stopped by the Fielding Garr Ranch, a national historical marker that includes a tour of frontier history through buildings, shops and farm equipment dating back to the 1850s. We headed home to find dinner and as we drove, we read that no trip to Salt Lake City would be complete without a stop at Red Iguana, the legendary spot made famous by Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, so we decided to give it a try. It was definitely the kind of place where we wondered if we should even enter, but then we saw the line wrapped around the block and though it would be safe. Every minute was worth the wait. We were hit with Red Iguana energy as soon as we entered the door—bright colors on the walls, plates clattering and a smell of chiles and spices surrounding all the sights. It felt like we had been invited to a party. The food was made with bold, comforting flavors, which made us understand immediately why the place has a cult-like following. And we ate every single one of those incredible sopapillas. It was a true hole-in-the-wall with unforgettable food mixed with tons of fun. Don't miss this place if you find yourself in Salt Lake City. The next morning, we headed home. The years written so many versions of our story—young parents raising three boys on grit and hope, leaders in management and education, and business owners, learning as we went, partners weathering the hard days and celebrating the beautiful ones. And now, we are grandparents, with time to enjoy each other, intent on carving out new adventures in a season of life we once only imagined. Driving back, we found ourselves talking about bathroom configurations, countertops, and the final projects waiting for us in our tiny home. It made me smile, because these are the same kinds of conversations we’ve had our whole lives—building, dreaming, creating something together from the ground up. It’s just who we are. After forty years, we’ve learned that the best adventures are almost never the fancy ones. They’re the ones where we build something, explore, laugh, wander, eat too much, make a wrong turn or two, and end up with another story to tuck into our collection. And now? It’s back to staining boards, installing lights, and building the little life we love—until the road calls again.

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. We all hated to leave the mountains of Tennessee, but were anxious to get to our next stop. As we crossed into Arkansas, the terrain began to shift, and we could gradually see the Ouachita Mountains rise up around us—lower and rounder than the Smokies. The air felt warmer, and the trees seemed a little more rugged as we made our way towards our last stop at the KOA Holiday near Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas. KOA Holiday Campground Just minutes from the downown area and hundreds of hiking and off-road trails, we thoroughly enjoyed our stay here. 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 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—formed by the intense geologic pressure that shaped them long ago. We hiked parts of the Hot Springs Mountain Trail, including the Honeysuckle and Peak Trails, that wound through shady woods and climbing to scenic overlooks. Holden and I gathered 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 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 over 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 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. Set right inside 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 a different way. Some we admired from scenic overlooks, others we climbed around and explored up close. 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 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 couldn't help but imagine how lively the area 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 Arkansas before we head home to Texas. But we will definitely be back to Tennessee and these beautiful Smokey Mountains. 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. It's the kind of place that invites you to slow down 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.

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. Our site at the back of the resort was just steps from the river, where we saw all kinds of wildlife. The park itself had really large 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, Gatlinburg, and trails through 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 We also supported 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 one of the most beautiful stretches of road we’ve been on. As we left Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg behind, 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 alongside the road, and we could look out the window and see clear water rushing over smooth rocks and fallen branches. Every few bends in the road offered new postcard-worthy views. There were bridges covered in moss and tons and tons of wildflowers. The air smelled clean, crisp and full of pine and mountain earth. The trail starts just behind the Tremont Institute in the Smoky Mountain National Park. The hike itself is just under two miles round-trip, but it includes a little bit of everything: winding 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 required climbing to keep things interesting. We took our time and decided at the end that Spruce Flats Falls was absolutely worth the effort it took to get there. The falls cascade down tiers of mossy rock, and then tumble into a crystal-clear pool underneath. It’s not the tallest waterfall in the park, but it was beautiful We sat for a while, just watching the water and letting the sound of the falls and the stillness of the forest sink in. 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 with picnic tables scattered around the lawn, and mountain views in the background. 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, and it was easy to see why this place has become a favorite for locals and visitors. After dinner, We munched on cones filled 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 right behind our site. That quickly became his favorite hangout. He gathered sticks, built 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. 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 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. 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, and 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., we crossed into Virginia, and the landscape began to open up. The road curved through rolling hills, and city skylines disappeared. Green forests and wide open skies replaced them and the air felt light. The road was definitely less busy. The landscape on this stretch of the trip was full of layers: closest to us, hills were a crisp green color and were dotted with grazing cattle like we see in magazines or on postcards. Just beyond the hills was a mountain range with its slopes covered in patchwork green colors of every shade. Beyond that was a soft mist that created a blur between the treetops and the sky, where the last layer of blue stretched into white, and clouds that looked like cotton floated. Virginia's rest areas were a surprising find on this leg of the trip. These weren’t the typical quick-stop roadside pull-offs. They felt like intentional parks designed for long picnics. They were spacious, super clean and landscaped. After a typical stretching of our legs, we were hesitant to get back in the truck. They reminded us to take time on our journey to enjoy the unexpected hidden gems. As we got into the Blue Ridge Mountains, we could truly feel nature calling to us. 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 full hookups, clean laundry and bath house facilities, and we were not disappointed. 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. 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.

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 amenities and the welcoming atmosphere. The park is located in College Park, Maryland, which claims to be a center for education, experimentation and exploration. The park offers 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 was full 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, others were relaxing, reading, or simply enjoying the fresh air - all right in the middle of the city. Day 1 - The Mall After the quiet hills of Pennsylvania, Washington, D.C. and its traffic was BUSY. We began our exploration on foot, strolling down the legendary avenues where so many pivotal moments in American history have happened. Two of my favorites were Pennsylvania Avenue, where inaugural parades have marched and voices have risen in protest, and Constitution Avenue, which was lined with monuments and memorials, built to remember the ideals our country was built on. With each step, the city unfolded —stone by stone, statue by statue. And just beyond was the National Mall - stretch of green space and reflecting water 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—stark and imposing 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 talked about the ingenuity it took to build it, but we felt the enduring legacy of our nation’s first leader. 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 thought it looks smaller than what we see on TV. 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 some of nation’s most difficult times. 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 the stillness took my breath away. There was something reverent in the quiet, and 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 what he fought for—equality, unity, liberty—and the cost he and others have paid. 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 also deeply moving. As Texans, we naturally gravitated to our state’s pillar among the 56 representing the U.S. and its territories. It was 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 silent tribute to the cost of freedom. Nearby, a quote from General Douglas MacArthur made me pause and remember again the sacrifices made by our forefathers. 'The guns are silent. A great tragedy has ended. A great victory has been won.' 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 to reflect on sacrifice and loss. Watching people search for the names of loved ones and carefully etch them onto paper for personal keepsake memorials felt intimate and personal. Each tracing was an act of remembrance.. 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, and they 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 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. 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 it reminded me of changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, was different. 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, with fresh flowers and small mementos left by loved ones. 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 procession moved slowly, and the rhythm of hooves echoed from the pavement. 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 used to transport the remains of those who have served with distinction, usually commissioned officers, Medal of Honor recipients, and those killed in action. It was quite a 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 honor individuals, even in the midst of so many thousands. Walking through the cemetery, we felt the reverence of churches and cathedrals. Old Town Alexandria After the quiet reverence of Arlington, we made our way to The Wharf in D.C. Set along the Potomac River, which is a mix of waterfront charm with modern bustle. Even on a Tuesday afternoon, it was busy —people strolled the boardwalk, kids played near the fountains, there were boats docking and people were eating outside watching all of it. It was easy to imagine what it must look like on evenings and weekends with live music and night lights reflecting on the water. We stopped to learn about The Maine Lobsterman, a statue honoring America's maritime heritage and the 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 is the 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. 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 atmosphere. 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 cocktails. After strolling the Wharf to work off our lunch, we boarded a ferry to Old Town Alexandria whose cobbled streets and colonial charm are part of a nationally-designated historic district on the Potomac River waterfront. With no set agenda, we wandered in and out of independently-owned boutiques and bookstores, admiring the colorful doors and iron balconies, enjoying the brick buildings along the King Street Mile. On our ferry ride back to The Wharf, we were treated to a spectacular show on the water when dozens of sailboats appeared across the river, darting in and out among ferries and other boats that looked like it was choreographed. Watching their white sails catch the fading light was the perfect way to end the day and our time in D.C. Up next: Virginia and Tennessee. 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: 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 are 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 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 joining of past, present, and future with 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 with us, drinking her coffee with the same right hand doctors once feared might never work again after the stroke. She even played a round of bingo. Later in the day, we walked up the hillside just above the family farm to visit the small cemetery where Ariel’s Aunt Cindy was recently laid to rest. It’s a humble place 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 waved in tribute. We paused there for a long time, remembering Aunt Cindy. She prepared incredible Sunday dinners, tended to Gram, kept the farmhouse and yard in beautiful shape, and spent many 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 fading names and dates with our eyes, imagining details about the lives remembered in stone. 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, and it seemed like a kind of prayer. There was something sacred in the day's moments: sipping coffee with Gram, laughing over a spirited game of 42, lingering outside in the countryside, simply being together. These were the rituals of family—the way we show up for one another, the way we hold each other up without needing grand gestures. 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 was 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, then 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 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 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 I was stepping straight into the pages of American literary history. This wasn’t just another stop on our road trip—it was a return to my youth. I first met Huck and Tom as a teenager, where I was drawn to 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 the whitewashed fence and the raft floating on the river. 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 it was quiet and peaceful. Cottonwood blossoms drifted through the air like slow-motion confetti and it made our campsite feel like we had been dropped in the middle of a story. The restrooms and laundry facilities were impressively clean. Just minutes from the Mississippi, the campground was a perfect base that we used 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 were brought to real life, and I was able to get a glimpse of Twain's wit that 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 live picture pulled right from the pages of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, where fact and fiction twist 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. It's complex and hard to navigate. 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 The winding paths and sudden turns made disorientation almost inevitable—just as it had 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, 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 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 walls decorated in graffiti. 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 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 easy to see how he could fill them them with mystery, fear, and treasure. Stepping back into the daylight after our cave tour felt like coming up for air. It was like we had been inside Twain's imagination. Now, we were ready to see the town that shaped so many of his stories. Hannibal literally has postcard-perfect charm and echoes of the literature I have come to love, all running right beside the Mississippi River. From the cave’s darkness, we climbed to literal heights at the Mark Twain Memorial Lighthouse, where we enjoyed sweeping views of the town and river. It’s a bit of a climb (244 steps, if you’re counting), but worth every one. From there, we strolled the Mississippi Riverfront, imagining Huck and Jim setting off on their raft, chasing freedom on the water. Watching the barges and listening to the water rolling, it's easy to see why Twain made the river into a character, just as strong and complex as the human characters that traveled on it. 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 tribute to the man who once dreamed of navigating the Mississippi before he ever thought of creating stories that would forever stir America’s imagination. Standing in his uniform, with one hand resting on the wheel, the statue of Twain looks over the river that shaped his life and writing. It’s easy to forget that Twain once trained as a steamboat pilot and that knew the river as a living, unpredictable force of nature—full of danger, beauty, and mystery. The statue captures reminds viewers that before there were books, there was the river—and before there was Mark Twain, there was Sam Clemens, a young man who could read the currents way before he created the characters who rode them. We wandered the same streets where a young Sam Clemens once roamed.. Mark Twain's boyhood home is still there, situated on a quiet street that feels suspended in time. Inside, exhibits tell the story of a mischievous boy grew up to give America some of its most unforgettable, and some of my very favorite, characters. Just steps away is a replica of Huck Finn’s house. 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 looking for mischief. 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 murals all over town. The street lamps along Main Street and throughout the historic district hung with banners that include some of Twain's most famous sayings -I stopped to enjoy every single one. Just down the block, we visited a more somber part of the story: Jim’s Journey: The Huck Finn Freedom Center, is a small but powerful museum about the the life of Daniel Quarles, the man may believe inspired Twain’s character Jim. But more than that, it honors the real people whose stories are often left at the margins of American literature. Inside, 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 wonderful counterbalance to the more lighthearted adventures of Tom and Huck. Because, just as The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn is about mischief and river rafting, it also causes the reader to experience 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 more timeless stories - romance and tragedy with an equal mix of legend and truth. Standing on that bluff, you can feel the weight of stories—old and new—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 wandered around the cave complex, enjoying the beautiful weather and 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.