The End of an Odyssey
September 22, 2005
Sault Ste. Marie, Mi.

The first day umbilically separated from the caravan began somewhat ominously. Only 12 miles out we missed a turn in Ellsworth, Me., circled the block, and in driving rain, failed to see a high sharp curb. This resulted in an exploded curbside trailer tire. One hour later, in the parking lot of the city jail and courthouse, I had completed the tire change, soaking wet. Physically and emotionally exhausted, we began the long trek home through Maine, New Hampshire, and Vermont on through to Ontario.




Heinz and Lynn studying their
French lessons.











We passed by a "Funky Frank's". On a damp, overcast day, Frank was kind enough to display on his property, everything he had ever owned that was not water-soluble. Absent a compositional focal point and suitable light, I failed to take a photograph of this landfill-in-waiting because the fill covered what I assume was land underneath. Use your imagination.


In Rumford, Maine, a tribute to
native son, Ed Muskie, chiseled in granite.













In the Soo, 6600 miles, 66 days, four
tired puppies complete the circuit.



I once read in the NY Times Book Review that odyssey is defined as a trip or adventure that must begin AND end in the same place. We therefore felt compelled, bound by literary accuracy, to return to the Chippewa campground, Sault Ste. Marie, Mi. where we had convened nearly ten weeks before.

The only hiccup occurred at our border crossing where we were stopped by the ever vigilant, always suspicious, US Customs and Homeland Security for a search of the trailer. At some point on the bumpy roads of Canada, our pantry door latch failed, an 18 ounce cylinder of Quaker Oats had fallen to the floor, and effectively distributed oats from the rear bedroom to the front couch. Lynn, quick to defend her housekeeping prowess, was summarily dismissed by the PMS inspired female customs agent who commanded her to LEAVE the trailer while she did the inspection.
Bottom line: our planned dinner, left-over spaghetti with meat balls, was the only item confiscated....for fear of mad cow disease. How about mad wife disease.

A final thought about the difference and similarity of 1955 to 2005. Fifty years ago the sight of 100 travel trailers, equipped with modern conveniences of home was a true curiosity, a novelty similar to the circus coming to town. With few private campgrounds, they relied on public parks, vacant exhibition grounds, & private farmland for space, and were fortunate to have water on occasion and rarely three amps of electricity. Comfy,lightweight, towed by V-8 Cadillacs, Buicks, and Ford station wagons, they were perceived as the modern day version of the previous century's small covered Conestogas. Fast forward to 2005 where we spent all but seven nights in private campgrounds, most with full electric, water, and sewage facilities. Fully self-contained, our immediate interests were satellite TV reception, availability of wi-fi internet access, & location of the nearest Wal-Mart. Studio apartments on wheels. RVs are now as ubiquitous on the highways as cars and semis. Other organized groups of motorhomes, banded together in scheduled travel 'tracks', crossed our path several times. Impostors.

Perhaps in 50 years, others, armed with our travelogues, diaries, and scrapbooks, may attempt to replicate what we have done in a "Century" format, or even in the year 2030 as a "Diamond" jubilee. I forsee monster carriages, fueled by something other than fossil fuels, driven and guided remotely by GPS satellite chips imbedded into roadways. By simple extrapolation, all the comforts of home will be inside, four dimensional plasma walls to preview each coming attraction before you arrive at your destination, a large cabinet displaying your antique John Deere lawn tractor from 2011, and most importantly, your above-ground swimming pool. The most difficult decision will be, when arriving at the next waterfall, church, museum, or scenic lookout.....whether to actually get out and look at it.


A 34 foot A/S Excella feels this
roomy after nine weeks.










Our group, averaging seventy years +, was co-operative, energetic, inquisitive, and fun-loving in spite of advancing age. Did I mention that they are getting along in years ? Genuinely nice older people who melded together for two months to share in an unforgettable experience of fun, fellowship, and adventure.