The Flood

On July 1st, a Thursday, we here at Roan Creek were experiencing heavy rainstorms.  Living right next to the creek, it has become second nature to watch the level of the water.  Despite being deluged with rain off and on all day, the creek continued to carry the excess water away.  We watched as the water levels rose and fell throughout the day.  Our grandsons picked up large stones to mark the edge of the creek around 10:30 p.m. before settling down for the night.

Sometime around 11 p.m., the fellow camping in a tent next to us knocked on the door.  He was concerned about the creek rising.  After some discussion, he and consort moved his tent and camping gear a little farther up the bank just to avoid problems.  As they were moving the campsite, I went out and checked the water level.  The creek had dropped close to a foot since the boys had placed their markers.

I woke up Friday morning around five o'clock.  As I was slowly regaining consciousness, I was aware of an unusual sound.  I can always hear the creek as it flows past the fifth wheel, but there was something different in what I was hearing.  I looked out of the window next to my bed, and I could see moonlight reflecting off the water.  It seemed as though the creek was all around us.  I knew that couldn't be accurate, so I got up to go check things out.  This is what I saw when I opened the front door:

I woke consort and filled him in on what was happening.  He opened the front door and just stared.  When he turned back to me, he had only two words:  Let's go.

When we turned from the door, we saw our two older grandsons standing in the living room awakened by the commotion.  We directed them to get dressed, including shoes, and be ready to leave the trailer as quickly as possible.  I woke up our seven-year-old grandson and readied him to vacate the fifth wheel while consort leashed up the dog and cat.  By 5:40 a.m., everyone was ready to go, but we decided to wait another ten minutes for the first light of day before traversing the flood.

Looking out the front door, we could see one of the rugs originally placed in front of the camper was now tangled in and around the front steps.  Consort set to work moving it so we could safely go down the trailer stairs.  While he was working in the rapidly flowing water to free the rug, I made my way around the front of the fifth wheel to check for any dry place we could move to.  

From the front of the trailer, we're about ten yards to the park gazebo which sets on higher ground than our camper.  There was standing water between the gazebo and trailer, but no strong current.  It looked as though we'd be able to easily wade through the water to higher ground.  However, in the time it took us to untangle the carpet, and then dislodge a bicycle caught on a leg of the fifth wheel, the water continued to rise and the flow became much faster.  

As soon as the first light appeared over the mountain, we began the evacuation.  Consort helped our youngest grandson down to the ground.  The water came up to the top of his legs.  I took his hand and the two of us walked around to the front of the trailer.  The current coming from under the front of the trailer knocked Youngest's feet out from under him.  I had no problem hanging onto him and keeping his head above water; but once his feet were firmly under him again, fear overcame and he began to cry.  That was the hardest thing I had to deal with all day.  (Gulp!)  I stopped just long enough to hug him tightly to me, then got him safely to dry ground.  

Consort handed middle grandson out to me next.  Middle is almost 11.  He and I crossed to dry land, without incident, where he joined his brother.  Next in line was our oldest grandson who is nearly 13.  I suppose I didn't really need to hold his hand, but I did anyway.  It was fate.  As we rounded the front of the trailer, I stumbled.  Without hesitation, and with more strength than I would have imagined, Oldest caught me and then walked me safely to dry ground.  Consort followed right behind us carrying D.O.G., then made a second trip back for Fulton, the cat.

By the time we were all safe at the gazebo, the sun was fully up.  Our tent-camper friend had moved all of his gear up onto the gazebo mound.  Both he and consort moved their trucks up next to the gazebo.  There were campers staying in a cabin across the road from the gazebo, but we could not physically reach them.  The road had turned into a raging river.  We were all most concerned about the campers closest to the bridge.  We could see they were in some pretty deep water.

There's no question we were all shaken up, but everyone and everything was in one piece.  By 10 a.m., enough water had receded to allow us back into our campsite.  We lost innertubes and water shoes that were outside the front door.  The flood carried away our picnic table with the umbrella still attached.  We found it later flipped upside down and wedged next to a tree.  We lost all the camp chairs, but the grandsons found two of them later in the day.  The fifth wheel survived without damage and without moving.  The water never did quite reach our bottom step.  All the "basement" bins were dry.

One of the pictures below is of the RV that was closest to the creek.  They had water in all of their "basement" storage bins.  In the picture of our fifth wheel, you see the stabilizer leg and blocks.  All of the rock and dirt around the blocks was washed away.  Luckily, the ground beneath the blocks held firm.  Before the day was over, we hitched the trailer and smoothed out the ground beneath the stabilizers, then reset the camper. 

There must have been heavy rain upstream that idled for some time to cause the flood.  And that was just one night of rain.  The ark and the flood have been topics of conversation around our place since we visited the ark the first part of June.  Living through our little flood gave us all a new perspective.  40 days and 40 nights.  Can you imagine?

Later in the day, we went out for a drive to see what damage the flood had done.  We were both surprised and pleased to find that, with the exception of our creek and the land surrounding it, there wasn't any flooding.  We saw this rainbow on the way home.  Did you know that a rainbow is a sign of God's promise to never again destroy the earth and all its inhabitants with a flood?  It was a beautiful sight to see.

A Cup Covered House, a Bridge, and a Movie Set

 

This is the House of Mugs in Collettsville, North Carolina.  The house sets at the dead-end of a long and windy mountain road completely off the beaten path.  The couple who own the house were not at home when we visited, so we did not have a chance to meet them.  As the story goes, they found a box of mugs nestled in amongst other items they purchased at a flea market over 15 years ago.  Having no real need of the coffee mugs, and on a whim, the owners decided to hang the cups on the exterior of the house as decoration.  Apparently there is no homeowner's association.

Today there are over 34,000 cups and mugs hanging all over the house, outbuildings, gates, and fencing.  The owners, both artists and collectors, have hung most of the cups themselves, but curious visitors are encouraged to leave a mug of their own.  We saw quite a few cups marked with the date it was placed and its state of origin.  

Henry River Mill Village

Hickory, North Carolina

My pictures are on top, movie pictures below.

Neither Katniss nor Peeta were around the day we visited.

The Henry River Mill Village was established in 1905 and was home to the Henry River Manufacturing Company, a cotton yarn manufacturer.  When the town was originally established, the company erected 35 worker houses, a two-story boarding house, a bridge, a brick company store (pictured above), a power-producing dam, and a three-story brick mill where the yarn was produced.  The village of Henry River was occupied almost exclusively by millworkers.  The company permanently closed in 1973 citing an inability to compete with the overseas textile industry.  S H O P    L O C A L ! ! !

Despite the mill being closed, residents of "Mill Hill" continued to live there.  The last known resident moved out sometime in the late '90s.

Fast forward to 2012.  Hollywood happened across the run-down village and thought it would serve as the perfect setting for the post-apocalyptic dystopia of District 12 featured in the film, The Hunger Games.  The movie was filmed in many different locations, but Henry River is the set used for filming the house where Katniss lived, and the bakery where Peeta lived and worked.  In 2017, a group of local residents came together and purchased the defunct town.  They have begun to refurbish and restore the original cabins.  Currently, they have one cabin available for rent.  

Hickory, NC, is a long drive from where we're camped, but both consort and I, and all three grandsons, thoroughly enjoyed the day.  We had a knowledgeable tour guide who was fun and entertaining.

We ended the day with a quick stop at the Bunker Hill Covered Bridge.  It was originally built in 1894 and is one of 220 lattice truss bridges remaining in the US.

Lazy Days of Summer

at the local swimming hole

 

Raft, Hike, Kayak, then EAT

 

We arrived at Roan Creek Campground on June 4th.  As soon as we unhitched the fifth wheel and opened the slides, the grandsons doffed their clothes, donned their swimsuits, grabbed their tubes, and headed for the creek.  The boys got into the creek in front of our campsite and floated on their tubes downstream about a quarter mile.  There's a bridge at the entrance to the campground with a small beach down below where we told the boys we'd be waiting for them.  

After about a week of these short rides in fairly calm water, we drove the boys with their tubes a few miles up the road so they could have a longer ride.  There are a couple of drop-off places for rafters up the road that dramatically change the ride down the creek,  There are cascades to pass over, and a small waterfall that drops three or four feet that will get your adrenaline pumping.

Our grandsons spent the month of June with us leaving a few days after Independence Day.  The days were full of rafting and hiking.  We managed at least one six-mile hike each week they were here.  Consort and I went on a difficult hike last year to Laurel Falls that included a 250-foot drop in elevation.  The climb down into the basin of the falls was exhausting, but it was the climb back to the top that elicited a promise to myself that I would never, EVER, hike this trail again.  

Well, here we are, pictured above, ready to set out on the selfsame hike.  I'm even wearing the same t-shirt as on that fateful day last June.  Our friend from the campground, D, had us park our truck at the bottom of the mountain.  He then drove all of us, including D.O.G., to the top of the mountain and dropped us off.  He assured me this hiking trail was much easier as it's all downhill.  He told us to follow the creek and there was no way we could get lost.  At one point in the hike, we came up against a solid rock wall.  We had been forewarned, but still had a difficult time locating, and then navigating, the inches-wide footpath we had to follow between the rock wall and the five-foot drop to the creek.   

Obviously, I'm sitting here typing away at my computer, so we did make it safely back.  None of us are experienced hikers, we had no maps, and we seldom ran into other hikers.  There were definitely times when we felt turned around and a little lost.  Thanks to our middle grandson, who kept his eye on the downstream flow of the creek, we made it out unscathed -- at least most of us did.

Here at Roan Creek you can park an RV, pitch a tent, rent one of their cabins or a glamping tent.  There are tube and kayak rentals available.  Apparently, I have been confused about kayaks.  When I think of a kayak, I think of this.  I have always known I am not coordinated enough to man a sit-in kayak.  I have visions of floating upside down in the creek banging my pretty little head against the rocks on the bottom as I slowly drift downstream.    

The kayaks here at the campground are sit-on-top kayaks.  Big difference!  Much more manageable.  I will be kayaking the Salt River next time we're in Phoenix!

Consort minding the steaming tamales.

It's been a couple of years since I've been with my grandsons on a daily basis and I had completely blocked out forgotten how many groceries these boys can put away.  While we were in Brownsville this past winter, I learned to make tamales.  The tedious part of making tamales is spreading the masa onto the cornhusks.  Actually, placing the filling on the masa and then rolling the husks is pretty mind-numbing work, too, unless you're sitting in the kitchen with R&A and drinking mango margaritas.  I brought both masa and cornhusks (as well as mango margarita mix) with us when we came out to Tennessee; one never knows what may or may not be available at the local market.

Big thanks to R&A for the tamale lessons!

My goal was to spend a morning rolling tamales with the grandsons.  If you make the full tamale recipe, you'll end up with something like 150 to 200 tamales.  The boys were agreeable to helping and eagerly joined in.  After about 15 minutes of spreading, stuffing, and rolling, their interest began to wane.  At just about that same time, consort made an appearance.  He said he was going to help D use a chain and tractor to pull out some logs caught in the creek under the bridge.  Any volunteers to help?  The next thing I know, the cat and I were left alone in the trailer with a mound of masa and piles of cornhusks.  Even the dog abandoned us for more exciting times.  I dutifully finished the task alone, politely refusing the cat's offer to spread masa on cornhusks.

The boys, consort included, finished their logging work and eventually returned to the camper.  Consort set up a propane-powered crab boil pot in the yard with just enough water to steam the tamales.  Three hours later and, Aqui esta tu cena.  Disfruta!

This is D.O.G. taking a break during a six-mile hike.  I mentioned above that most of us walked out of the forest unscathed.  D.O.G. is the one who did not.  When we returned to camp, we noticed he was limping, favoring his back right leg.  He was definitely having trouble getting into a standing position.  We have now been to the vet and learned he has some arthritis in his back right stifle (knee), and a degenerated disc in his lumbar spine.  He was prescribed an anti-inflammatory and a muscle relaxer and is nearly back to normal.

While we were stopped in Amarillo, D.O.G. got a grass awn stuck in his paw.  We saw a vet and had the barbed seed removed.  While in the doctor's office, D.O.G. was weighed.  He gained five pounds over our winter in Brownsville making him officially 20 pounds overweight.  We have become laser focused on this issue.  The good news we received at the vet here in Tennessee is that D.O.G. has lost the five pounds gained over the winter.  While he still has a long way to go, at least we're headed in the right direction. 

These are the falls at the end of the Gentry Creek hiking trail.  We had Kae with us that day.  Kae is the granddaughter of our friends here at Roan Creek, Bella's new owner, and the recipient of this Raggedy Ann I made.

Found this "K" made of sticks at the side of a hiking trail.

The bright yellow circle is a mushroom.

Annie

This is Annie when she was a show dog, quite possibly the most beautiful dog I've ever seen.  During her time as a show dog, Annie was the top-ranked female Puli in the USA in 2015 and 2016.  She was retired in 2017, and we adopted her in 2018.  

Last year, Annie developed a laundry list of problems.  We spent a month's worth of weekly visits with our vet last fall trying to find a way to alleviate her pain and increase her quality of life.  We tried a lot of different things, but nothing had any long-lasting effect.  In December, she stopped eating, became incontinent, and whimpered when we would pet her.  After weeks of trying to make things better, consort and I knew it was time to have her put down.  Rest in peace, pretty girl, we miss you still.

Crossing Kentucky

 

While we were still anchored in Arizona and working on travel routes headed east, we learned that the bridge on I-40 crossing the Mississippi River in Memphis had been closed due to damage.  Consort began looking at alternative routes to reach our summer destination of Roan Creek Campground in NE Tennessee.  After a few days looking at options, he came up with the idea of heading a little north to drive across Kentucky.  He suggested we add a couple of days to our drive allowing time to stop at places of interest; specifically, Mammoth Cave and the Ark Encounter.  I wholeheartedly agreed.

Although the interior of the Ford F-350, in my opinion, is nearly large enough to live in, it was pretty close quarters in the backseat of the truck once everything was loaded.  Each of the three boys had a bag filled with books, games, and electronics that took up a great deal of the floorboard, in addition to their legs and feet jockeying for position.  In spite of the fullness, we managed to fit D.O.G. in with the boys (Fulton, the cat, rode in the front seat with me).  Try as we might, we could not keep D.O.G. on the floor.  As you can see in the picture above, D.O.G. considers himself an equal with the boys and wants to be included in ALL activities.  He rode on the seat squeezed between two of the boys.

Prior to leaving our campsite at Bluff, I did some pre-cooking so we would have dinners while on the road.  Each morning before heading out, I made lunches for everyone -- although that did not preclude the consumption of  pizzas and McDonald's along the way.  It took two days of driving to reach Mammoth Cave located in west-central Kentucky.  We dry-docked our first night in a Walmart parking lot in Missouri.  Our second night on the road was spent in the parking lot of Cabela's in Bowling Green.  We left the lot at Cabela's early on a Tuesday morning and drove a couple of hours over to Mammoth Cave.  "At 336 miles, Mammoth Cave is the longest system of caves in the world." ~ Wikipedia 

After spending an afternoon wandering through the cave system, (we had the fifth wheel with us, so the animals stayed home in the trailer) we loaded back into the truck and headed north to our next destination, the Ark Encounter.  We had a three-hour drive and ended the day at the Northern Kentucky RV Park.  

The next morning we were up early and ready to head out to see the ark.  We had all eaten breakfast and stowed away our overnight gear.  The grandsons, dog, and cat were all loaded into the truck.  Consort and I had only to bring in the slides and hitch the rig before taking off.

As luck would have it, a cable broke on our infamous slide.  We have been averaging a broken slide cable every other month since we've been on the road.  It is infuriating!  Although we do not have the skills to repair the slide ourselves, we do carry all the necessary parts for an RV technician to do the job.  Consort immediately got on the phone and, amazingly enough, was able to locate an RV service tech familiar with replacing the cable and who was able to come to our site at once.  

The reason I mention this particular slide repair is because of the information we received from the service tech.  The tech told us the cable slide on our particular model fifth wheel suffers from a poor design.  The slide itself sets atop four rubber rollers and is attached to the fifth wheel with cables at the top and bottom on each side of the slide.  There is nothing more holding the slide in place.  As we travel down the road, the slide bounces with the trailer causing it to move in a forward-backward direction.  When this happens, the slide is no longer setting squarely on the roller tracks.  If the slide is off center when it is opened or closed, the cable tension becomes unequal putting excessive stress on one of the cables which, over time, causes it to fray and then break.  (The service tech used an analogy of a sewing machine's thread and tension.)

Here's the really great part:  He knew how to fix the problem -- a bladder jack, also known as an AirShim.  By simply inserting a small bladder jack into the opening between the frame of the fifth wheel and the frame of the slide, we can ensure the slide is in exactly the right position to open and close.  The service tech had tried out this theory, and assured us it will eliminate the constant fraying and breaking of cables.  The jury is still out; only time will tell.

The slide repair took a couple of hours out of our morning, but didn't put us too far behind schedule.  Once the repairs were complete, we hitched the trailer and drove about 15 miles to the ark.

Mammoth Cave was a great side trip.  The grandsons enjoyed it immensely.  But the ark!  The ark was magnificent!  I have known the story of Noah and the ark since I was a little girl.  To see the ark in person, built to the specifications in the Bible, filled me with awe.  It was fascinating to tour the ark and see how the multitude of animals were kept and cared for, the workshops and living quarters.  I highly recommend a visit!

We left the ark late Wednesday afternoon and drove three hours south to Middlesborough, Kentucky, where we dry-docked in a Walmart parking lot.  Thursday morning we took off early for the final leg of our roadtrip, a three-hour drive to Roan Creek just outside Mountain City, Tennessee.  The trip was completely wonderful, but after five days on the road, we were all ready to park in one place and spread out.

The grandsons passed the "long distance riding in the truck" test and will always be welcome in our future travels.  We'll let curiosity lead the way.

Once the travel bug bites, there is no known antidote, and I shall be happily infected until the end of my life.  ~Michael Palin

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity-Jig

 

We left Amarillo on an early Sunday morning in mid-May headed for our hometown of Broken Arrow.  We had reservations to spend two weeks at our favorite campsite, Bluff Landing, a COE campground ten miles east of Broken Arrow on the Verdigris River.

Consort and I really enjoy this nomadic lifestyle we've adopted, but every now and again, I yearn for home.  Not my current home on wheels, but my solid, stays-in-one-place house anchored in downtown Broken Arrow.  Each time we visit Broken Arrow, I insist on driving past the old homestead.  (Think sentimentalist, not stalker...)  

I was pleasantly surprised when we drove by our old house, pictured above, during this visit.  I asked consort to circle the block so I could take a picture.  The 100-year-old house looks well-maintained and loved.  There were new flower gardens and a pergola.  The center of the sunflower painted on the fence is a doggy window; something consort and I discussed adding, but never got around to.  It is obvious the new family loves the house as much as we did.  I can rest easy now; someone is taking care of the old lady; no more drive-byes are necessary.  Sigh....  Doesn't she look pretty?

Our purpose in visiting Broken Arrow was two-fold:  To spend time with three dear friends -- shout out to R in BA and J in Independence! -- and to pick up the three grandsons to take with us on a month-long vacation.  Although we were busy most days, we had a very relaxing two weeks.  There's a lot to be said for familiarity with a city -- I still haven't found a decent alternative to Waze.  A good deal of our evenings were spent at the local sports complex watching two of our grandsons play baseball.  The picture above is of my youngest grandson taking a swing at an offspeed pitch.  This particular grandson is a bad-ball hitter (which is fairly important when playing against six- and seven-year-olds) and managed to land a tater.  It was all very exciting!

I don't typically publish pictures or names of people on this blog, 

but with the consent of all those pictured above, here you go.  

Start with me on the left; my daughter, Jenna; my "red-headed stepchild," Summer;

and her beautiful momma, my dear friend, Karol.  

Love you ladies!

Broken Arrow Public Schools let out the last full week of May.  The grandsons, and both consort and I, were ready to stow their luggage and begin our summer excursion.  Before the boys arrived, I cleaned out three drawers for them to keep their clothes in, and we made space in the living room to stow their sleeping bags and pillows.  Our last night in Broken Arrow, daughter brought the boys over and we enjoyed a picnic-style dinner outside by the river.  After a delightful evening, we said our final good-byes and waved to daughter as she drove away.

"And now," cried Max, "let the wild rumpus start!"

Strange Street Signs in Amarillo

 

When we left Flagstaff, we bookdocked our way across New Mexico, then parked for a short time in Amarillo.  I really enjoy staying at the Big Texan RV Ranch in Amarillo.  It may have something to do with this, or possibly this.  Whatever the reason, I never complain about a stopover in Amarillo.

While in Amarillo, we discovered there are hundreds of weird street signs throughout the city.  The signs were placed by oil magnate Stanley Marsh III, who is also the creator of the Cadillac Ranch, Combine City, and the Floating Mesa.

There are no maps showing the location of the signs, just random sightings as you drive around town.  The photos above are a few of the signs we saw.

The drive from Flagstaff to Amarillo, 610 miles, was without incident.  We drove over some really rough roads, but no death wobble.  That diesel mechanic in Mesa, Arizona, may have single-handedly restored our faith in the auto service industry.  Maybe not, but it's definitely a good start!