Trip #6, It Ain’t Over Yet…
(This title is a reference to a song of the same name by Rodney Crowell (I’d never heard of him either). It played on Spotify frequently during our summer adventures, and became our theme song for a few reasons, or at least the title did).
"We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us."
-Unknown
Well, it turned out we had one more adventure in us. But this time, there was a practical reason behind the journey.
We live in central Wisconsin, where it gets pretty cold if you aren’t aware. And we live in an apartment, so keeping our trailer through the winter isn’t possible. We were days away from having it winterized and stored when another option presented itself.
Wanda’s brother, who lives in central Texas, mentioned we could leave it with him. It would be a long trip, but after careful deliberation about what it would take for Wanda to be able to do it comfortably, we miraculously found three weeks without appointments of any kind, and we decided to go for it!
We made the trip a Harvest Hosts extravaganza with six HH stays and two campground stops mixed in to take care of business and rest. It took ten days to get there, making it our longest trip. It is 1250 miles to their place, shorter than you would think, a 2-3 day trip for most. But we took our time, as always, for Wanda, and so we could enjoy all the exotic places we would visit, like Iowa, Missouri, Oklahoma, and of course, Texas.
It came down to the fact that we didn’t know when (or if) we’d ever be able to do this again, so we just got out there and did it, knowing at this point there wasn’t much we couldn’t handle with some faith, patience, and will. It was the first time we left the state of Wisconsin all summer, and we knew there would be challenges, and there were a few times we wondered if we’d made a mistake. Some days were longer than we’d have liked, and it became hotter every day, something Wanda doesn’t handle very well anymore. But when all was said and done, we were so thankful—as always for the places we saw and the experiences we had, but mainly for the people we met.
In the spring, when we will be restless after a long winter, we hope to head south and reunite with the trailer to do a Harvest Hosts trip around the south, back west, and then north towards home.
But for now, let’s enjoy our first multi-state excursion!
Our first stop, 180 miles from home, was Stone Cliff Winery in downtown Dubuque Iowa. It was our first “urban” stop; and it was urban— as urban as downtown Dubuque Iowa can be. We camped in a casino parking lot.
This winery isn’t really a winery, as the wine is made in the nearby Iowa hinterlands, but that’s OK because the tasting room is in a brewery. So to sum it up, this is a winery that isn’t a winery, located in a brewery, where with dinner, instead of the wine that isn’t made here, we had the beer that used to be brewed here but isn’t brewed here anymore. And you know what? It was delicious!
The beautiful building, circa 1898, is located on the banks of the Mississippi river, where Wisconsin, Illinois, and Iowa meet.
The place was replete with lots of curiosities, knickknacks, doohickeys and thingamabobs, whose purposes will have to remain a mystery as there was nobody there to explain them. They were fascinating nonetheless.
We had a nice time here. Even though we camped less than 100 yards from a busy freight train track that pretty much kept us up all night, the setting was beautiful, and the food and drink were good. It was a great start to our odyssey, which in the morning would take us 150 miles south.
Wildlife Lakes Elk Farm, West Burlington, Iowa
We were happy to be directed to camp on the shore of a pretty 60-acre lake.
It was too late in the year to see the impressive antlers the bulls typically have. They are removed during the rut (aka mating season, which was in full swing while we were there), to prevent the agitated and oversexed elk from hurting each other or worse.
The owner, Henry, was quite a character and is someone I could have spent much more time with. He would celebrate his 85th birthday the next day and had all the energy of someone half his age. He is out there by himself taking care of all these animals and a couple of hundred acres every day, regardless of weather or anything else.
First year elk fawns.
Our waterfront property (for a night).
Besides elk, Henry had another passion- participating in rebuilding the Trumpeter Swan population, and the lake on his property where we stayed is a breeding location for these magnificent birds. Having a wingspan of 6-8 feet, Trumpeter Swans are North America's heaviest flying birds, often weighing in at over 30 lbs. In the 1930s, the wild population was thought to be less than 70 birds, and extinction was sadly near. But thankfully, a flock of several thousand was discovered in Alaska. Using this stock, biologists carefully reintroduced the birds over the years to the lower 48, and because of this, and people like Henry, the population is now thought to be over 46,000. Here, mom and dad (in white) are standing watch over their four "cygnets" (in gray) while they go about their swan business.
It was a very peaceful setting.
The sunrise was golden. Trumpeter Swans are the badasses of the waterfowl world and will not allow other waterfowl species (particularly geese) to share the same water with them. But these mallards are tolerated for reasons only the swans know.
We bought some elk steaks and summer sausage from Henry, but we got much more out of the visit than that. He said he does Harvest Hosts to meet interesting people and hear their stories. And from what I can tell, those who visit his farm inevitably leave a piece of themselves behind. Well, he left a bit of himself with us as well. He is the grandfather I wish I still had, and is such a genuine, kind, and hardworking guy; I am confident that if I lived closer, we would be good friends.
Arlie’s Farm, Rogersville, Missouri
Arlie’s farm is a greenhouse and nursery operation selling fresh vegetables and such, but we were there too late in the year for that. The highlight for us (besides the people) was getting to meet Harley Hallelujah, a Clydesdale colt born last June.
Harley was like a big sweet dog who loved to be scratched. When we approached, he came trotting up to the fence, and I swear I saw his tail wagging a little bit. OK, not really. It is hard to believe he is only four months old. When fully grown, he will weigh over 2000 lbs. and stand 6 feet tall at the shoulder.
Harley had just been weaned from one of these two and was in a separate pasture for now. These are Budweiser-affiliated Clydesdales, the real deal, and these two have participated in pulling the Budweiser wagons and other beer-related PR activities. As can be seen, they are stunningly beautiful animals.
This was another instance of someone living their dream. Beth, seen here driving us around her farm, does this out of love for growing things and horses. You could feel her pride and joy as she showed us her life. It is life-affirming to be with people who have dared to do what they want, to work hard to create their vision of heaven. It is inspiring and is maybe the best part of these visits.
Tall Pines Distillery, Noel, Missouri.
At the end of a 1/2 mile dusty dirt road was the very clean and neat Tall Pines Distillery.
We couldn’t have asked for better weather for our visit to the Ozark mountains. Crystal clear and warm with low humidity, it was perfect.
Jeez, I wonder what they sell here?
After a tour and tasting of the potent spirits (none were under 100 proof) we settled in for the evening. The distillery closed at 5:00 and we were left alone on the quiet and isolated property to relax.
Morning dawned, once again cloudless and bright, and after a trip to a nearby town for some fuel and coffee (pretty much the same thing to my wife), we continued our journey south into yet another state.
Dakota Star Ranch, Checotah, Oklahoma
Parking at Dakota Star was in a large pasture. As can be seen, the environment has transitioned from lush and green to dry and brown. And by no coincidence, it was getting hotter every day too.
Dakota Star Ranch is owned by a wonderful couple from Texas who like so many we visit are living a life of purpose, passion and mission. To quote them- our mission is to provide a safe and loving home for farm animals, offer the public unique educational programs, grow nutritional produce for local programs, and to promote a culture of kindness and connection.
They have a makeshift market in their garage for Harvest Host guests and others to help support the ranch. We bought some cherry tomatoes and some homemade zucchini bread that we had for breakfast the next morning.
Hank, a 150 lb. Great Pyrenees, is the guardian of the livestock on the ranch, routinely running off coyotes and other predators. We can attest to this as we heard him do it in the middle of the night. But he has a softer side, as this cat knows pretty well. Can you find the kitty’s face?
These mini-longhorns were our first taste of Texas even though we were still in Oklahoma. The moniker “mini” is funny as they can weigh up to 800 lbs.
I loved this place. It was so open and quiet. A lovely warm breeze carried the earthly smell of freshly cut hay, and something about it was so relaxing it was almost intoxicating. The big sky was great for sky-gazing as well.
Not long after this shot, I sat alone in the gathering darkness waiting for the space station that would soon pass overhead. While just chillin’, I noticed that off in the murky distance, two large dark shapes were moving quickly and inexorably toward me. As the amorphous shapes rapidly grew in size, the hair on my neck began to stand up as I considered my options.
It turns out it wasn’t a couple of bigfoots, modern-day cattle rustlers, or space aliens there to give me good probing. It was just a couple of horses. But this pasture wasn’t supposed to have any animals in it. I texted the owner, and it turns out these were two wild mustangs recently rescued from Nevada, and they had escaped from their pasture because someone left a gate open. The funny thing is they are wild horses and had just become tame enough to be approached and hand fed by their owners. It is a mystery why they decided to scare the heck out of me by walking right up to me in the dark. But I am glad they did.
For whatever reason, these two mustangs thought our entry rug was fascinating, and they kept trying to pull it out from under the stairs.
As an aside, the dot of light above the horses is Jupiter, it was as bright as I’ve ever seen it, and just behind the trailer, a nearly full moon was rising. That, combined with the space station passing by, the visiting horses, and the coyotes yipping in the distance, made this a particularly magical night.
In the morning after our zucchini bread breakfast we headed south again, 230 miles to Texas.
NRS Ranch, Decatur, Texas
NRS (national roper’s supply) Ranch is a 400-acre cattle and horse property about 40 minutes from Dallas/Ft. Worth. As they say, this place is “all things western.” We took advantage of their water and electric RV hookups to use our air conditioning because it was getting hot! It was in the low 90’s the day we arrived (it was in the 50’s in Wisconsin). You can see some paddocks in the background; these hookups are for visiting rodeo competitors and spectators alike or people who are here for horse clinics, lessons, etc.
We felt a bit out of place here, but it was cool nonetheless. All these saddles are trophies, in a sense, for one rider from the area. It appears he is pretty good at what he does. The leatherwork was incredible; it is an art form we never knew existed.
The store is 100,000 square feet of everything a cowboy (or girl) would ever need, and it is said they have 10,000 different kinds of boots. There are aisles of nothing but spurs, reins, or whatever--it was crazy. We wandered through, enjoying the air conditioning, happily lost in all the stuff we didn’t understand.
We saw one hat here that cost nearly $4000!
A hundred yards from where we were camped was an arena where there was a calf-roping competition that night. We sat at ground level, right behind the bars, close enough to hear the animals grunt and breathe and to get dirt kicked on us more than once. Unfortunately, I don’t have any good pictures of the action that night; I wasn’t equipped to capture such fast motion in the low light.
Horses seem to be a theme on this trip, and it was cool to see them at work like this. These animals are graceful and swift and work so well with the riders. It was impressive.
This whole journey is about experiencing new things, and being this immersed in a calf-roping competition was certainly new to us.
In the morning we headed deeper into the heart of Texas, 142 miles straight south.
Buena Vista Wildlife Safari and RV Resort, Evant, Texas
Just one picture from this stop, our last in our beloved trailer for the year. We stayed here, only 40 minutes from our final destination, so we could dump and flush our tanks and do some routine maintenance before we shut her down until next Spring. It was rather sad.
And here she sits, in her home for the next 4-5 months, with Old Glory keeping watch. (special thanks to Eric and Jodi for allowing us to leave it there).
Buying the trailer and doing this was one of the best things we’ve ever done, and in 4 short months, it has endeared itself to us like an old dog. It is no longer a thing—a construct of fiberglass, wood, and metal; it is a memory maker, a life experiencer, a forge of love and freedom, a meeting place for hearts. In just four months, we have met many wonderful, interesting people, been to many incredible places, and eaten many different things while looking out the same windows. But outside those windows, the view changed daily, and those changes were reflected in us because as the scenery changed, we did as well. We are not the same people we were four months ago.
When in the trailer, unplugged, in some dark field somewhere, everything was different, better. So many warm nights spent listening to music and having dinner by (LED) candlelight, every time face to face at the dining room table. No TV, no connection to the madness, giving us time to talk about whatever was on our minds or to make a choice not to speak at all. The joy of silence has been rediscovered.
When traveling, awareness grew of many things—other people’s lives, the vastness, and beauty of this great country, of what time the sun and moon would rise and set. The environment, particularly the weather, was more tangible. Changes in heat, cold, and humidity were felt more acutely; you could hear every raindrop strike the roof, and each thunderclap felt like it was sitting in your lap.
As this chapter closes and the winter snows settle in, and we fall further and further from the warm days and golden memories of summer, we can close our eyes and sleep well, immersed in the memories of the past and dreaming about all the adventures that await us.
“Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”
-Confucius