Since I have never pulled a trailer I thought it might be a good idea to take it slow on the first day. Staying up to 12:30 with my son-in-law was not an integral part of the plan but it turned out that way. Brian had flown in from New York on business and I was staying at his house to get a jump on the journey. He rolled in about 9:30 and we went out to get a bite to eat. After multiple drinks, it came as no surprise that I decided that an early start was not necessary.
I was surprised when I woke up, rolled downstairs and Brian,
who was moving as slowly as me, announced that it was 10:30 in the
morning. I haven’t slept that late in 40 years. Was I reluctant to
leave, exhausted or totally relaxed. I have no idea but since I have no
idea where I am going I wasn’t too concerned about a late start.
We decided the best approach was to go to the Montgomery
Street Café for a little late breakfast. It was the perfect idea until
the waitress gave was the check and commented, “Perfect day for a long
nap. It’s going to rain. Just a lazy Saturday.” That sounded
great to me, but my future was going to take me out on the open road pulling a
7,500 lb. Airstream to California. As much as I might want to postpone
the inevitable I knew I had to hit the road.
I was fully packed. Five black t-shirts, five pairs of
blue jeans, 52 Depends pads, cowboy boots, tennis shoes and flip flops was the
essentials of my simplified wardrobe.
For the basics, I had taken a page out of Steve Jobs’
playbook. Jobs only wore handmade St. Croix black mock turtleneck
designed by Japanese designer Issey Miyake and Levi 501 jeans. It
was his uniform. It made sense to me. But rather than a $200.00 turtleneck
and $39.95 501’s I achieved the same result with black Hanes T-shirts which
sell on Amazon in a three pack for $13.15 and Wrangler Cowboy cut blue jeans
which retail for a cool $19.99. What cost Steve $240.00 a day sets me
back $23.00. My accessories were just as distinctive. The cowboy
boots are straight from Justin’s boot outlet in Fort Worth. Bay Apaches
size 10 selling there for $189.00 on a good day. They are complimented by
the tennis shoes which are actually Feiyue Brand Martial Arts Shoes retailing
for a fast $14.95 and the flip flops which were a gift – cost zero.
The Depends Pads are of course a necessity and a consequence
of the prostrate surgery. But that is another story. For now,
suffice to say I am ready to hit the road.
Wheels up at 12:30 and head west – in the general direction
of my daughter, Kat and Venice Beach. I truly have no timetable. I
decide that my first stop will be San Angelo, Texas, 250 miles west of Fort
Worth.
 |
| Where's the drought in Texas? |
No sooner do I turn onto I-30 heading west to Weatherford
than the rain starts.
I am not accustomed to pulling a 7,500 lb. trailer down an
Interstate full of semi trailer trucks, soaked in rain. The Airstream
seems to be able to handle the weather. It does shimmy when a truck passes
me, which is way too frequent. The Airstream is doing fine but I am a
mess. It is unsettling not to have any rear view. My regular rear
view mirror gives me a panoramic view of the back of the Airstream.
The side mirrors only help when someone is passing. I
begin to wonder what might be happening behind me. As semi’s keep flying
by in spite of the conditions, I come to the realization that I am the slowest
thing on the highway. I am cruising at 55 mph clip. Unacceptable in
Texas where the limit on the Interstate is 75 and that is just a
suggestion. How long, I wonder, is the line of disgruntled drivers behind
me? Are people shaking fists at me? Worse yet is the Airstream
leaking? Are the tires OK or are am I about to hydroplane – a physical
act that would be unknown to be if it were not for the tires commercials that
have taught me that hydroplaning is the last conscious act of many drivers on
rainy days. I decide to stop and check things out in spite of the fact
than I have only traveled 30 miles and do not need gas. As I pull into my
safe haven I am struck by yet another piece of wisdom courtesy of The Beatles –
“All You Need Is Love’s”
 |
| All You Need Is Love's |
I check the Airstream and everything seems roadworthy.
I fill up and head out again into the rain.
Surprisingly I make pretty good time from then on, getting
up the courage to hit 65 mph. I still can’t see anyone behind me but am
actually getting used to it. The concept is stay in the right lane and be
happy you are headed in the right direction. No need to rush.
As is
my habit I revert to the 60’s and listen on my I-phone to the Lovin; Spoonful,
The Beatles and Aerosmith until 3 pm when I switch to books on tape and the
story of Walt Disney, The Triumph of American Imagination by Neal Gabler.
This is quite a book. Written in 2007 it is over 900 pages long.
Although he was a great guy, I am not sure I need to know that much about Walt
Disney. Those 900 pages make for a wonderful road trip companion.
So, I listen to Walt’s story all the way up to Snow White, when the hail hit
the tin.
Outside of Abilene on the way to San Angelo
traveling on a two lane stretch of highway 83 when blackened clouds started to
cross my path. I had been driving in and out of downpours all
day. This looked liked more of the same. I was following
a guy in a H-haul truck. Suddenly something hit my windshield
hard. It popped so loud I thought the windshield might crack. I
figured the guy in the H-haul had kicked up a stone until it happened
again. When a rapid succession of four pops struck the windshield I
realized it was hail. Within seconds rain and hail were pelting my
truck and, of course, my aluminum Airstream. The rain got so thick
and the hail was so loud that both the U-Haul and I slowed to a
crawl. I thought to myself I am going to pull over under and
overpass only to realize that I was so far out in the country that the
overpasses were few and far between. I began to worry that the hail
was going to damage the Airstream, but no sooner did the hail start than it
stopped as suddenly and as unexpectedly as it started. The sky
cleared but the road ahead had so many hailstones on it that it looked like it
had snowed. It was obvious that as much as I was worried I had been
fortunate to miss the brunt of the storm.
 |
| San Angelo State Park |
Forty five minutes later I pulled into my
first stop, San Angelo State Park. My motivation was to visit Fort
Concho. Fort Concho was built in 1867 to protect frontier
settlements and to fight the Comanches. Unfortunately, when I pulled into the
state park I found out the fort was closed until 1 pm Sunday. Too
late for me.
So I pulled into my first
overnight stay in the Airstream. San Angelo is quintessential west
Texas. There is nothing there – no hills, few trees, lots of
wind.
 |
| My home away from home. |
I parked and started to hook
up the Airstream to electricity and water. Everything was fine…until I
tried to open the Airstream. I couldn’t get the door
open. Airstream doors have two locks – a deadbolt and a door handle
lock. It is tricky. You open one and the other one
won’t budge. Then you reverse the process and nothing
happens. This happens every time I try to open the door but this
time I just couldn’t get it. For twenty minutes I fiddled with the
damn locks until panic started to set in. Would I have to sleep in
the car? Or just keep driving? And what would that
solve? I needed to find an Airstream dealer to get the lock
open. Airstream dealer? I am in the middle of
nowhere! Back and forth – I turned the deadbolt, then turned the
door lock, gave it a yank and nothing – maybe 50 times. Finally, the
door just opened.
 The sinister locks. How hard could it be? |
I have no idea what I had
done wrong the first 49 times or what I had done right the 50th time. Rather
than figure out what the problem was I moved on. I turn on the air
conditioning - which works! (In spite of being March it was 80
degrees when I pulled in the campgrounds. I test the water – it works!
I start to recharge all my Apple products (I am a devotee of Apple , as you
probably figured out from the black t-shirt and jeans bit.)
My principle problem now is
no food and no propane for my grill. I had decided that I would
never use the stove. I never use the stove at home so why use one
out here. I am strictly a propane grill, microwave kind of
guy. I had bought a small grill from Cabelas with an empty propane
tank. So I needed propane and, oh yes, something to
cook. My daughter Liz had supplied me with microwave popcorn, beef
jerky and pretzels – the basic food groups, but I needed meat. I
learned right away there is only one place to go – Wal-Mart.
Now I hate
Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart has ruined small town America. Maybe
it was inevitable that America would gravitate away from the small hardware
store and the corner grocery but Wal-Mart was the driving force and I hate them
for it. Hate them – but find them irresistible. Fact of
the matter is they have everything and everything at the lowest
price. Everything, that is except propane. I learned that
the only way to buy propane from Wal-Mart is to buy the first tank from them
and then swap them out for a new tank when yours is empty. So I am
stuck with an empty tank. Goodbye grill help microwave. I
settle for a frozen dinner and head back to camp and an unlocked
Airstream. (No worries, people do not go to camp grounds to steal and
murder people. They go to camp grounds to get away from people that steal
and murder people. I am as safe as I can be although at first glance
it seems I am out in the exact middle of nowhere. I could scream for
hours and not be heard.
I settle in with my Marie
Callender’s microwave Salisbury Steak with Cheesy Broccoli & Cauliflower
topped off with some microwave popcorn, listen to my I-Tunes (no 60’s this
time. Just random tunes) and start working on this blog. Before
I know it, it is midnight. I turn off the lights and tuck myself
into bed, lulled to sleep by a forty mile per hour wind which gently rocks my
Airstream. Day One is behind me.
Since I have never pulled a trailer I thought it might be a
good idea to take it slow on the first day. Staying up to 12:30 with my
son-in-law was not an integral part of the plan but it turned out that
way. Brian had flown in from New York on business and I was staying at
his house to get a jump on the journey. He rolled in about 9:30 and we
went out to get a bite to eat. After multiple drinks, it came as no
surprise that I decided that an early start was not necessary.
I was surprised when I woke up, rolled downstairs and Brian,
who was moving as slowly as me, announced that it was 10:30 in the
morning. I haven’t slept that late in 40 years. Was I reluctant to
leave, exhausted or totally relaxed. I have no idea but since I have no
idea where I am going I wasn’t too concerned about a late start.
We decided the best approach was to go to the Montgomery
Street Café for a little late breakfast. It was the perfect idea until
the waitress gave was the check and commented, “Perfect day for a long
nap. It’s going to rain. Just a lazy Saturday.” That sounded
great to me, but my future was going to take me out on the open road pulling a
7,500 lb. Airstream to California. As much as I might want to postpone
the inevitable I knew I had to hit the road.
I was fully packed. Five black t-shirts, five pairs of
blue jeans, 52 Depends pads, cowboy boots, tennis shoes and flip flops was the
essentials of my simplified wardrobe.
For the basics, I had taken a page out of Steve Jobs’
playbook. Jobs only wore handmade St. Croix black mock turtleneck
designed by Japanese designer Issey Miyake and Levi 501 jeans. It
was his uniform. It made sense to me. But rather than a $200.00 turtleneck
and $39.95 501’s I achieved the same result with black Hanes T-shirts which
sell on Amazon in a three pack for $13.15 and Wrangler Cowboy cut blue jeans
which retail for a cool $19.99. What cost Steve $240.00 a day sets me
back $23.00. My accessories were just as distinctive. The cowboy
boots are straight from Justin’s boot outlet in Fort Worth. Bay Apaches
size 10 selling there for $189.00 on a good day. They are complimented by
the tennis shoes which are actually Feiyue Brand Martial Arts Shoes retailing
for a fast $14.95 and the flip flops which were a gift – cost zero.
The Depends Pads are of course a necessity and a consequence
of the prostrate surgery. But that is another story. For now,
suffice to say I am ready to hit the road.
Wheels up at 12:30 and head west – in the general direction
of my daughter, Kat and Venice Beach. I truly have no timetable. I
decide that my first stop will be San Angelo, Texas, 250 miles west of Fort
Worth.
No sooner do I turn onto I-30 heading west to Weatherford
than the rain starts.
I am not accustomed to pulling a 7,500 lb. trailer down an
Interstate full of semi trailer trucks, soaked in rain. The Airstream
seems to be able to handle the weather. It does shimmy when a truck passes
me, which is way too frequent. The Airstream is doing fine but I am a
mess. It is unsettling not to have any rear view. My regular rear
view mirror gives me a panoramic view of the back of the Airstream.
The side mirrors only help when someone is passing. I
begin to wonder what might be happening behind me. As semi’s keep flying
by in spite of the conditions, I come to the realization that I am the slowest
thing on the highway. I am cruising at 55 mph clip. Unacceptable in
Texas where the limit on the Interstate is 75 and that is just a
suggestion. How long, I wonder, is the line of disgruntled drivers behind
me? Are people shaking fists at me? Worse yet is the Airstream
leaking? Are the tires OK or are am I about to hydroplane – a physical
act that would be unknown to be if it were not for the tires commercials that
have taught me that hydroplaning is the last conscious act of many drivers on
rainy days. I decide to stop and check things out in spite of the fact
than I have only traveled 30 miles and do not need gas. As I pull into my
safe haven I am struck by yet another piece of wisdom courtesy of The Beatles –
“All You Need Is Love’s”
 |
| All You Need Is Love's! |
When did Love’s Truck Stops become an American
institution? Beats me but if you don’t know Love’s, you don’t know
American Road Tripping. I must have been riding the Metro North into
Grand Central when they sprang up. Wikipedia tells me there are over 300
Love’s Truck Stops nationwide. (What happened to Stuckey’s?) They
are everywhere in Texas. The only thing I can compare Love’s to is the
Opreyland Hotel in Nashville which can not be compared to anything. It
just seems that the people who visit them hold these truck stops in some sort
of reverence. Willie Nelson, Dale Earnhardt, Graceland and
Love’s. Tread softly is my advice.
I check the Airstream and everything seems roadworthy.
I fill up and head out again into the rain.
Surprisingly I make pretty good time from then on, getting
up the courage to hit 65 mph. I still can’t see anyone behind me but am
actually getting used to it. The concept is stay in the right lane and be
happy you are headed in the right direction. No need to rush.
As is
my habit I revert to the 60’s and listen on my I-phone to the Lovin; Spoonful,
The Beatles and Aerosmith until 3 pm when I switch to books on tape and the
story of Walt Disney, The Triumph of American Imagination by Neal Gabler.
This is quite a book. Written in 2007 it is over 900 pages long.
Although he was a great guy, I am not sure I need to know that much about Walt
Disney. Those 900 pages make for a wonderful road trip companion.
So, I listen to Walt’s story all the way up to Snow White, when the hail hit
the tin.
Outside of Abilene on the way to San Angelo
traveling on a two lane stretch of highway 83 when blackened clouds started to
cross my path. I had been driving in and out of downpours all
day. This looked liked more of the same. I was following
a guy in a H-haul truck. Suddenly something hit my windshield
hard. It popped so loud I thought the windshield might crack. I
figured the guy in the H-haul had kicked up a stone until it happened
again. When a rapid succession of four pops struck the windshield I
realized it was hail. Within seconds rain and hail were pelting my
truck and, of course, my aluminum Airstream. The rain got so thick
and the hail was so loud that both the U-Haul and I slowed to a
crawl. I thought to myself I am going to pull over under and
overpass only to realize that I was so far out in the country that the
overpasses were few and far between. I began to worry that the hail
was going to damage the Airstream, but no sooner did the hail start than it
stopped as suddenly and as unexpectedly as it started. The sky
cleared but the road ahead had so many hailstones on it that it looked like it
had snowed. It was obvious that as much as I was worried I had been
fortunate to miss the brunt of the storm.
Forty five minutes later I pulled into my
first stop, San Angelo State Park. My motivation was to visit Fort
Concho. Fort Concho was built in 1867 to protect frontier
settlements and to fight the Comanches. Unfortunately, when I pulled into the
state park I found out the fort was closed until 1 pm Sunday. Too
late for me.
So I pulled into my first
overnight stay in the Airstream. San Angelo is quintessential west
Texas. There is nothing there – no hills, few trees, lots of
wind.
 |
San Angelo State Park. Conveniently
located in the middle of nowhere.
|
I parked and started to hook
up the Airstream to electricity and water. Everything was fine…until I
tried to open the Airstream. I couldn’t get the door
open. Airstream doors have two locks – a deadbolt and a door handle
lock. It is tricky. You open one and the other one
won’t budge. Then you reverse the process and nothing
happens. This happens every time I try to open the door but this
time I just couldn’t get it. For twenty minutes I fiddled with the
damn locks until panic started to set in. Would I have to sleep in
the car? Or just keep driving? And what would that
solve? I needed to find an Airstream dealer to get the lock
open. Airstream dealer? I am in the middle of
nowhere! Back and forth – I turned the deadbolt, then turned the
door lock, gave it a yank and nothing – maybe 50 times. Finally, the
door just opened.
I have no idea what I had
done wrong the first 49 times or what I had done right the 50th time. Rather
than figure out what the problem was I moved on. I turn on the air
conditioning - which works! (In spite of being March it was 80
degrees when I pulled in the campgrounds. I test the water – it works!
I start to recharge all my Apple products (I am a devotee of Apple , as you
probably figured out from the black t-shirt and jeans bit.)
My principle problem now is
no food and no propane for my grill. I had decided that I would
never use the stove. I never use the stove at home so why use one
out here. I am strictly a propane grill, microwave kind of
guy. I had bought a small grill from Cabelas with an empty propane
tank. So I needed propane and, oh yes, something to
cook. My daughter Liz had supplied me with microwave popcorn, beef
jerky and pretzels – the basic food groups, but I needed meat. I
learned right away there is only one place to go – Wal-Mart.
Now I hate
Wal-Mart. Wal-Mart has ruined small town America. Maybe
it was inevitable that America would gravitate away from the small hardware
store and the corner grocery but Wal-Mart was the driving force and I hate them
for it. Hate them – but find them irresistible. Fact of
the matter is they have everything and everything at the lowest
price. Everything, that is except propane. I learned that
the only way to buy propane from Wal-Mart is to buy the first tank from them
and then swap them out for a new tank when yours is empty. So I am
stuck with an empty tank. Goodbye grill help microwave. I
settle for a frozen dinner and head back to camp and an unlocked
Airstream. (No worries, people do not go to camp grounds to steal and
murder people. They go to camp grounds to get away from people that steal
and murder people. I am as safe as I can be although at first glance
it seems I am out in the exact middle of nowhere. I could scream for
hours and not be heard.
I settle in with my Marie
Callender’s microwave Salisbury Steak with Cheesy Broccoli & Cauliflower
topped off with some microwave popcorn, listen to my I-Tunes (no 60’s this
time. Just random tunes) and start working on this blog. Before
I know it, it is midnight. I turn off the lights and tuck myself
into bed, lulled to sleep by a forty mile per hour wind which gently rocks my
Airstream. Day One is behind me.
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