Coming home

So, what the heck happened? No blog for a week? More about that later.

We left Indiana and drove straight through to Maryland.  Our cockerpoo Scotch (short for Butterscotch) was limping very badly -- unable to put any weight on his right rear leg -- so we needed to get him to the vet.  This last segment of our adventure was uneventful (except for coming perilously close to running out of gas!).  We amused ourselves by continuing to take pictures of cool old barns -- trust me, not much else of interest on the Illinois-Ohio-Pennsylvania toll roads.

It was really nice getting home and giving my youngest a big hug, petting Scotch and our bichon Andy, and saying hi to the neighbors.  Scotch was indeed limping very badly and Andy hadn't eaten his food that day -- both causes for concern.  In the morning we realized that Andy was also not drinking his water and not urinating -- a BIG concern.  My daughter and I took our two boys to the vet and then everything went downhill fast.  While xrays showed that nothing was obviously wrong with Scotch, Andy was going to need emergency surgery to relieve a life-threatening bladder blockage.  So the excruciating decision had to be made to let our beloved 15-year old Andy die peacefully in Charlie's arms, or put him through the pain of major surgery with an exceedingly poor prognosis.  We chose the former, and as a family we said goodbye and cried and mourned our dear pet.  Excruciating.

So it's been nearly a week now; the camper is again spotless, the yard and garden are pruned and tended, our grandson has been hugged and kissed, and life is returning to normal.  But the memories, oh the memories.  Those we will hold close.

Now to plan the next trip ...and clean the bugs off the front of the SUV.

Through Illinois to Indiana

Since Iowa City gave us no reason to stay another day, we headed east for home.  The Illinois landscape we saw is very much like that of Maryland – rolling and green with deciduous trees.  To amuse ourselves (okay, to amuse me), we tried to take pictures of cool old barns along the highway as we traveled at 60 miles per hour.  Not very successful – missed many cool shots – but it was entertaining.

But then we reached the Chicago area – on Sunday afternoon – where the traffic was a dead-on copy of DC’s beltway during a weekday rain storm.  Ugh.  We have gotten used to the near-empty highways of Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, and the Dakotas.  When we got through that traffic, we stopped at a visitor center and were entertained by the Blue Angels (I presume) who happened to be putting on a show nearby.  It was a pleasant interlude for us and our fellow travelers, especially the little kids who really were enjoying themselves.

 

Anyway, we stopped for the night at a KOA in South Bend, Indiana – home of the fighting Irish and have plans to visit the campus tomorrow morning before we head east again.  We’re getting excited about getting home, but are still mindful of enjoying each of these last days of our trip.

Iowa -- high expectations

Iowa’s welcome center is the first one we’ve visited that exactly portrays the state.  First, it looks like a barn.  The staff was friendly, the place offered free wifi and a brochure on just about anything you could want to know about Iowa, there was a coffee shop that offered fresh rhubarb pie and cookies, and there was a huge wall map of the state -- very visitor friendly. 

 

Other interesting sights on the road today – a street sign for 260^th Street in the middle of corn fields, huh? A gravel road named Eagle Avenue.  Trucks tearing down rural gravel roads leaving a cloud of dust in their wake like a jet plane – agri-jet?. Fran’s Bowling Superstore – not a business likely to make a profit in MOCO.  Signs advertising a Norwegian museum, a Czech and Slovak museum, an African American museum, and the Polka Festival in Ely  – celebrations of the melting pot.  And every highway we’ve driven, signs recognizing the Eisenhower Interstate System – thanks POTUS.

Iowa City, the last genealogy stop, held a lot of promise when we started this tour.  This was where my first generation Irish-American grandmother was born – surely I’d find a birth certificate and who knows what else.  Not to be, despite the knowledgeable and enthusiastic help of Carol K. at the State Historical Society of Iowa.  Charlie and I both culled through their online databases and historical references, but left with a clear understanding that, one, we needn’t spend more time in Iowa City and, two, I absolutely must find my great-grandfather’s death certificate.  Without it, I’ll likely never find the name of the man who left Ireland with his family and came to America.  Looks like a request is on its way to the Des Moines vital records gurus.

So we now have an extra day in the itinerary.  Will it be a more leisurely drive home or getting home a day early?  Either way, it's been a trip we'll never forget -- me and my traveling man.

(Photos: Iowa welcome center; grain elevator; lake at Myre Big Island State Park; doe and fawn in Helena cemetery)

Minnesota, take two

The drive east to Albert Lea featured arrow-straight roads and corn rows, made interesting only by the wind turbines dotting the farm land -- the new cash crop?  It makes us wonder why communities in South Dakota and Wyoming, where the winds buffeted the camper, don’t take advantage of this natural resource too.  Farming wind.

Tonight we are staying at Myre Big Island State Park in Albert Lea, MN.  It’s lush with nice camping sites – and thankfully electric hookups because today’s temperature hit 97 degrees!  May I mention again how much we are enjoying a camper with AC? 

As we were pulling into the park my thoughts wandered to my friend Clare and I got a knot in my belly.  I wish you were still here so I could share with you the adventures of this trip and we would laugh.  But there were other tales and shared moments.  Maybe all the genealogy tracking has made me sentimental but, my friends, please know that you are important to my joie de vie.

Tomorrow, Iowa City, the last genealogy stop on our cross-country tour.

(Photos:  farming corn and wind; wooden silo near Cooney State Park, MT)

Soiux Falls, SD

We arrived in  Sioux Falls and decided to give a try at the genealogy quest -- okay, Charlie convinced me to give it a try.  Visiting the Lincoln County courthouse, we again hit pay dirt.  We were extremely fortunate to be helped by Nicholas R. who was very very helpful and very very knowledgeable concerning genealogy searches.  (Government employees rock!) 

Bottom line, he was able to pinpoint the location of the homestead that my great-grandfather William J. Coates purchased in 1905.  Plus, the house still stands -- of course changed in the past 100+ years.  Still, just a little bit closer to the mystery of the Irish immigrant branch of the family tree.

My research shows that he moved to California by 1920, so finding out that he sold this property prior to that date implies that the move to California is entirely plausible.  Curiouser and curiouser...

(Photos:  County plot; Coates house today)

I am a yankee doodle dandy

July 4th

On the 4th of July we were traveling east across South Dakota, passing sign after sign warning that the fire hazard was severe -- understood to mean don't expect to see any fireworks.  So we decided to stop at Wall Drugstore (think South of the Border kitsch) and had a bison burger and apple pie to celebrate.  What's more American than apple pie, right?


Being in the patriotic mood, we decided to make a side trip to see Mount Rushmore.  It looks just like the pictures!  The entire area surrounding the monument is a certified tourist mecca -- Black Hills gold!  Bear country! Food!  Horse riding!  Both Charlie and I found it hard to imagine spending vacation in the shadow of Mount Rushmore, but apparently there are many who do and love it.  C'est la vie!

 A quick drive-through of Sturgis, site of the annual motorcycle meet, also seemed like an all-American tour stop.

We arrived at a KOA, immediately took a nap, and later watched the NY fireworks on TV.  I did miss seeing the July 4th programming from DC though.  I do love my country, despite all the political self-interest bull.

(Photos:  July 4th dinner; Mount Rushmore; Strugis sign and bars)

Helena MT to Devils Tower WY

What do 12,500 year old cave pictographs, the battle of Little Big Horn, 100+ degrees, Devils Tower in Wyoming, and a bottle of Three Blind Moose merlot have in common?  A very long day! 

Before leaving Helena yesterday, we went to the county office building and did some more genealogy digging.  The good news is that I was able to find the address of the house that my grandfather built in Helena in 1931.  The bad news?  It was rezoned in the 1990s and now is the site of a thriving commercial area.  In the process, I was able to get some insight into some family mysteries so I am satisfied.

We spent Monday night at Cooney State Park --15 miles off the interstate on a gravel road!  Forgot to mention that on the website, fellas!  But it is a pretty reservoir on the top of mountain.  Then 4 and a half days later -- oh, not really, it just seems like it -- we arrived at Devils Tower.  Along the way, we took two impromptu side trips.

We first stopped at Pictograph Cave State Park and saw some awesome 12,500 year old pictographs, penned and carved by Native Americans. 

From there we drove to Little Big Horn Battlefield National Monument -- depressing.  Our government signed a treaty but then decided to renege on it because intruders on the Black Hills discovered GOLD.  Then our military slaughtered a village of women and children.  The tribes retaliated.  Now, who were the savages again?










After a hot drive into Wyoming, we arrived at Devils Tower KOA campground, located at the foot of Devils Tower.  The view is beautiful, but I have to admit that Charlie and I were most happy after taking long showers and drinking cold drinks.

(Photos:  iron and marble stairs at County Office Bldg; old record books; Ann actually driving at Cooney; pictograph cave; pictograph drawn in red; horse cemetery; Cheyenne headstone; Devils Tower)

Helena, Montana

We spent our first night at Black Sandy State Park, where the camper next to us was from Towson, MD.  On our drive here, we met a motorcyclist who grew up in the same neighborhood as Charlie.  It is a small world!  The park is a major draw for local families with a boat.  We only stayed one night before moving on to an RV park because there were no water hookups and no showers -- did I mention it was 90 degrees here yesterday?

I was able to accomplish two genealogy goals in Helena -- visit the cemetery where my grandparents and two aunts are buried and visit Ramey city park.  My Aunt Kathleen was very involved in local politics and served as the mayor for many years.  She was a very popular woman who taught English at Helena High School and Russian at Carroll College.  The local schools and government offices closed on the day of her funeral and the park, located adjacent to the high school, was dedicated in her name.

We strolled through downtown Helena, stopping for latte/coffee and crepes and enjoying the beautiful weather -- low humidity is such a treat to this Maryland girl!  There is a lovely no-traffic walkway through part of Last Chance Gulch with small shops, wonderful architecture, and public sculpture.

You know you're not in MOCO anymore when you see these signs.

Have you EVER had to put snow chains on your vehicle?

 

 Ahh, to be able to drive faster than 55.

Can you see the 12 feet high markers for the snow plows?

Still praying for my friends suffering from the heat back home -- thinking of you!  And for all Americans endangered by all the fires in the West!  Bless you.

(Photos:  park to honor Kathleen Ramey; rich architecture; fun snail sculpture; Carroll College est 1909; bison at museum; chain up area; 75 mph; 12' snow markers)