...the White Pelicans have returned to Lake Conroe. 

Linda and I took a day on the boat Wednesday and saw two different pods – pod is the collective noun for pelicans not in flight – of White Pelicans on the lake. They show up every year around the beginning of December, migrating in from the lakes and rivers of the Midwest and Canada. Most of them will eventually find their way to the Galveston coast, but some will stay on the lake for the winter.

We'll be heading to Galveston in about 10 days to enjoy the Sandhill Cranes, another group of visitors from the Midwest which come to the Gulf Coast every winter.

We’re on our way back to Texas. We were in Missouri for about 4 weeks after taking two weeks to mosey up along the Arkansas and Mississippi rivers. We have made it through apple-picking, soccer for three-year olds, record low temperatures, three-day rainstorms, and the agony of the World Series.

We have had a great time. Linda and I have watched barges go through a lock on the Mississippi River, toured the Missouri countryside, enjoyed local eateries, and visited the St. Louis Art Museum for an exhibit of Dutch Masters.

We have also spent lots of time with the twins, picking them up from daycare, visiting playgrounds, eating at Chick-fil-A, visiting train museums, Halloween costumes, and, of course, watching 3-year-old soccer.

All in all, it has been a pretty busy (and a pretty great) time for a couple of septuagenarians. But it ain’t over ’til it's over, and we still have some days scheduled in the Sam Houston National Forest which is conveniently near Lake Conroe and the boat.

This post is extra long. It is really two (or maybe three) posts combined as a result poor and non-existent internet connections. I just kept writing and adding photos, and it just grew. In fact, with the lack of useful internet service, we will probably be home by the time I send this out. Anyway, lots of words and lots of pictures. Don't forget to click on the pictures to see them full size. Enjoy!

The Twins and Ben
​Since we were married fifty years before grandchildren ever appeared on the scene, we have a lot of catching up to do. So we try to visit Missouri every spring and every fall for a few weeks. And now we have three grandkiddos with Baby Ben who was born this past April. 

Tom and Jack are now 3-1/2 years-old and great fun to be around. We love to take them places and share experiences with them. Ben seems to be getting bigger every day, and we look forward to the time we can include him in our activities.

We try to maximize our time with the twins. We pick them up from daycare to take them to a playground or take them on little “field trips.” Sometimes we stop for a bit of lunch at Steak 'n Shake or Chick-fil-A. Paper hats, fold-up cars, coloring, and good eatin'. Life is good when you are three.

Crackerneck Lane
Several weeks ago on our way to our campsite on Carlyle Lake in Illinois, we passed a strangely named road, Crackerneck Lane. We looked at each other and asked, “What the heck is a crackerneck?” Well, I think we now have it figured out.​

While at Cuivre River State Park in Missouri, we were out touring and went down an unpaved road toward a Mississippi River viewing area – we were in search of a huge squadron of pelicans we had seen from afar. As we got close to the river we came to a small bridge with some folks fishing. There was a pickup truck parked on the bridge. There were two men with fishing rods at the guardrail. There was a woman sitting in a lawn chair on the bridge. There was a hound-dog sleeping in the middle of the bridge. It was a small bridge. 

As we began across the bridge we received unfriendly looks from all. The dog had to move, the woman had to shift her lawn chair, and a number of fishing rods had to be repositioned. Linda lowered the window and asked, “Will this road take us to see the river?” After more than a moment or two there was a response of, “No.” Then after another long pause, “Road flooded.” Three words. Two long pauses. One hostile look.

The “Road flooded” comment did not mean the road down by the river. It meant the road right on the other side of the bridge. Sure enough, just 50 feet on the far side of the bridge we ran into the water-covered road. There was no way to turn around so we had to go back over bridge in reverse. What fun! More dirty looks. More grudging movement from the dog.  Linda got out and guided me to make sure I threaded my way through the men, the

Here are some photos of the local farm landscape in the Mississippi River Valley. Two views of a barn, grain storage on a farm, and a local commercial grain elevator or what Linda refers to as countryside industry. There is nothing special about these shots. They are just typical views of the rural countryside north of the St. Louis suburbs. 

Places like this grain elevator just seem to pop up in the middle of the farmland or at the edge of a small town. This one was in the farmland. The white barn in two of the photos was adjacent to the old brick house, and I took these photos while walking to the house. The small grain silos were near to the big elevator. This photo was taken from the open door of the car.

Nature's Art
We visited the St. Louis Art Museum to see a special exhibit of Dutch Masters from the time of Rembrandt. It was a wonderful exhibit.

Alas, no photography was allowed. But I managed to capture the colorful art of autumn with some iPhone shots of these scarlet-leaved trees in front of the museum in all their glorious red. An identical line of red-hued trees bounds the other side of the large greensward to frame the front of the museum.

If you made it this far, thanks for your perseverance. Linda and I wish you the best of Thanksgivings. For us, we are thankful for our families – especially our super grandchildren – and our wonderful neighbors. Enjoy your holiday!

Paducah 
Paduuucah. Pa-duke-ah.
Paducah. What a great name. It is just a little – 25,000 people – county seat town in Western Kentucky. There are more than 1500 cities in the U.S. that are larger. But I am guessing that at one time or another you have probably heard of Paducah and, reading this, you most likely recognize the name Paducah. 

William Clark of Lewis and Clark fame laid out the town and named it. Somehow that seems like a pretty good pedigree to me. In its past Paducah has been a riverboat town and a railroad town. Today Paducah is a county seat and a nifty little river town with an artistic bent and part of the UNESCO Creative Cities Network. There is an artists' co-op, an active theater community, and a number of museums, including the National Quilt Museum. The downtown area is filled with little shops in early 20th century brick buildings. 

The city lies at the precise point where the Kentucky River flows into the mighty Ohio. Long barge tows move past the town every day. In 1937 the Ohio River reached a flood height of over 60 feet and effectively closed the town for about three weeks. After that catastrophe the Army Corps of Engineers built a flood wall for Paducah.

Lemons to Lemonade
The Paducah flood wall along the Ohio and Kentucky rivers protects the town when those waters rise. But the wall is an ugly 15 foot high ribbon of concrete that completely blocks the town's view of the river. In the 1990s Paducah finally got tired of looking at a concrete slab. The city commissioned artist Robert Dafford to paint murals on the flood wall depicting the history of the Paducah area. Now the flood wall is a mile-long work of art. I took a few pictures, but I also found a YouTube video taken with a drone which gives an overall view of the wall and its murals.

The flood wall murals not only gave the citizens of Paducah public art for all to enjoy, but the murals also became a tourist attraction, bringing visitors into the city. Ugly concrete to art. A city eyesore to a tourist attraction. Lemons to lemonade.

Quilts, Quilts, Quilts
There are a number of small museums in Paducah, but there is also one of major importance, The National Quilt Museum. Quilts? Really? Yeah. Really.

Let me assure you. These are not your grandmother's quilts. These quilts are works of art. I was astonished by the first quilt I saw and spent almost 10 minutes talking about it with a docent, learning exactly what makes a quilt a quilt.

A quilt is made up of three layers, the backing, a middle layer of batting, and the top layer or face. The design of most quilts is made up of discrete pieces of cloth sewn together with incredibly precise stitches, although some quilts have a face of a single piece of material. Those quilts depend on the stitching alone for their design.

Look at the two photos below. These are not Van Gogh's Self-Portrait with Straw Hat and Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring. These are quilts. Quilts made of an incredible number of seemingly random bits of cloth painstakingly sewn together with fine tiny stitches. Click on a photo to see the phenomenal detail of the quilt.

Not all the quilts in the museum were like this. These happened to be in an exhibit of a particular quilting artist whose work totally fascinated me. There were many more traditional looking quilts on display as well. If you like art and appreciate fine craftsmanship, this is a great stop. 

As a matter of fact, if you find yourself in Western Kentucky, Paducah is a great stop. Our next time through we will plan to spend more time in this interesting little town. For now, our next stop is Carlyle Lake in Illinois where we will spend a few days before crossing the river into Missouri.
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Our First St. Louis Stop
Carlyle Lake is a Corps of Engineers campground on the Illinois side of the Mississippi, just about 35 miles from St. Louis. We like public (federal, state, etc.) campgrounds. They "tune in" to nature and the campsites are generally wooded and private. Their major negative is a two-week limit for a stay. So we end up being local nomads, for want of a better term, moving from campground to campground while visiting St. Louis. Carlyle Lake, not really close to the kids, is our first stop on this trip.

The day's trip was a pleasant ride through the southern Illinois farmlands, We were surprised to see cotton fields, but there were plenty of them. Some were ready for harvest, and they were so white they looked as if there had been a snow-fall the night before. It was as though we were still in Louisiana or Arkansas.

We pulled into the campground on Friday afternoon, got settled in and rested up. Saturday was to be a busy day at the orchard picking apples.

Apple Picking
With fall finally here, the air has turned a little cooler and crisper – perfect for picking apples. Eckert’s Orchards on the Illinois side of the Mississippi River has to be the Walmart of apple-picking. There are untold rows of apple trees, pumpkins are piled high and hay bales are scattered about. Hundreds (thousands?) of cars are in the parking lots. Families are milling everywhere. Apples and pumpkins are truly in danger – they are going to be picked and carried away.

Here’s how it works. At a booth you pay a small entrance fee, get your hand stamped and grab some bags for your apples. Then you get in a Disney-like serpentine line and wait for a tractor and wagon that will take you to the apples. You get on the wagon and ride to the orchard. The tree rows all have signs with the apple variety grown on that row. You want Braeburn apples? Look for the sign and hop off the wagon.

Once you are off the wagon just walk down between the trees picking apples for your bags, maybe munching on one as you go. If you want another variety, just walk down a couple of rows or wait for a wagon to come by. You will end up with heavy bags and more apples than you need. 

On your way back from the orchard, you might want to jump off at the pumpkin patch to select the perfect one for a jack-o-lantern. When you finally get back from the orchard, get in line and pay for your apples (who knew you had 12 pounds in your bag?).

You can head back to your car, but, hey, why not stop in the store for some fine foods and gifts. Let’s see. Apples. Pumpkins. Applesauce. Apple butter. Apple this. Apple that. Do you have everything? Great! But don’t leave yet. Have lunch in the restaurant. And if the kiddos get a little antsy, there is a small playground with a slide that goes through an old John Deere harvester.

Eckert’s Orchards. Apples for everyone. Walmart on the farm.

Soccer
What could be better than some Sunday soccer? Sounds good, right? You bet. But it is even better when the soccer players on the pitch are three- and four-year-olds. 

This is soccer at its finest. Kids kicking soccer balls. Kids not kicking soccer balls. Kids paying attention. Kids doing other things. 

Some very nice, caring young dads volunteer their Sunday mornings to teach the rudiments of the sport to the kids. Somehow they have the knack to keep the little ones reasonably focused and engaged. They practice kicking and dribbling and maybe some other skills. Then there is a short game. The kids get exposed to the sport, and the mothers learn to be soccer moms early on.

We'll be back soon with some stuff about the Mississippi barge tows and some other things. See you then!

Howdy!
It is good to be back!

​It's been a while – 10 months actually – since I have written a post for Travels With Linda. It's not that we were hiding in a cave or anything, it is simply that life sometimes just gets in the way. For us, this was a good thing – the birth of our third grandchild. We spent the three months of spring in Missouri helping take care of the twins (just three years old) while our daughter gave birth to their baby brother, Benjamin. Then it was home to recuperate – it's hard for old folks to keep up with three year olds.

So after summer at home in Texas catching our breath, we are now on a fall road trip that will include a few weeks with kids. We are meandering up through the Lower Mi​ssissippi River Valley. We spent two nights on the Arkansas River, and right now we are beside a small lake in Jonesboro, Arkansas. Our next stop is Paducah, Kentucky on the Ohio River.

Our planned start was delayed for several days as the Houston area was recovering from tropical storm Imelda. While all of the Houston area experienced torrential rains and flash flooding, the hardest hit areas were to the east and north of the city. As a result many of the main roads leading to Louisiana were still closed after the storm with flooding or flood-related damage.

Living Large at the Eat-a-Bite
When traveling in the motorhome we try to stay off of the highways when we can, and we try to stop overnight at public parks rather than commercial RV parks. These include national forests, state parks, and Corps of Engineers parks. The scenery generally beats looking over the parking lot of the Hampton Inn. Sometimes convenience does rule our choice such as our regular stop at the RV park for the Coushatta Casino.

Our third night on the road was spent at the delightfully named Chemin-A-Haut state park in Bastrop, Louisiana. We took advantage of a needed run to the local Walmart to have dinner at the Eat-a-Bite restaurant just across the street from the county courthouse. We mix in local restaurants with the chain eateries when traveling as we try to keep our cooking to a minimum. And as travelers rather than campers, we are not into cooking on a grille. 

Tire Man
On our way from Chemin-a-Haut to the Pendleton Bend Campground along the Arkansas River, we went through the town of Back Gate – you don't get town names like this along the Interstate – and happened upon Tire Man. Is it any wonder we like to avoid the major highways?

We spent two days at Pendleton Bend, a Corps of Engineers' campground right on the river. We all like a water view, and Linda engineered it so we had one of just three campsites right on top of the levee. Super! We enjoyed watching both the fisherman and the commercial river traffic. And to make things perfect, there were also beautiful sunsets.

The park is located just down the road from two river barge ports; one port is for soybeans and the other handles grains and fertilizers. Tucked in along the river bank were empty barges waiting to be filled. I watched a towboat move down past us and return with one of the empty barges. I surprised it took them only a few minutes to move the barge out from the riverbank, make it fast with lines, and move it into place to be loaded.

Watching Work on the River
I looked out the window and saw a towboat, the Frances Ann, going by, so I grabbed my camera and went outside for a photo or two. Well, the Frances Ann was going to retrieve an empty barge from along the riverbank to take to the loading port. The whole process took only minutes. The four pictures below show the towboat heading toward the barge, moving the barge from the riverbank, and then moving back toward the loading port. Click on any photo to see them full size.

Craighead Forest Park
Now we are in Jonesboro, and this town has an absolutely super city park. It is almost 600 acres of woodlands with a lake at its center. There are all sorts of facilities, including the RV park where we are staying and enjoying another water view. Next we will be on our way to Paducah, Kentucky.

We like to go to Galveston Island State Park, and we particularly enjoy it in the late fall and winter. We especially wanted to make sure we got in a visit before year's end as the park is scheduled to close early in 2019 to be rebuilt. It was severely damaged and lost almost two-thirds of its Gulf-side campsites as a result of Hurricane Ike some ten years ago (the wheels often move slowly in Texas). 

When the cooler weather sets in, the Gulf of Mexico seems to change. The sky gets lower and always appears to be a bit overcast while the Gulf's water looks almost as if it were liquid pewter. To me, the island is almost a totally different place from that sunny beach playground of summer. We walk the beach; we tour the island; we look for birds.

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One of the birds we looked for is the Sandhill Crane. Sandhills summer and breed in the north – mainly Canada and Alaska. Then they migrate across the Great Plains to winter in New Mexico and along the Texas coast. Unfortunately while these birds like open fields and can be easily seen, they also seem to like being far, far from the road. At the Galveston Airport Linda counted a group (called a construction) of 52 cranes! Alas, they were so far from the road that without binoculars we couldn't even be sure they were cranes. Oh well, photos will have to wait until next time.

A Busy Body of Water
We wandered up to East Beach, the absolute eastern tip of Galveston Island where you can see the ships moving in and out of Galveston Bay on their way to the Port of Houston. The port is the country's largest in foreign goods and second largest overall, and ships are continually moving through Galveston Bay and into the Houston Ship Channel.

Often you can see ships anchored in the Gulf all along the coast waiting for their time to move into the port. This day I counted more than a dozen ships crowded at the east end of Galveston Island, each waiting for their turn to enter the bay on their way to being shepherded into the port. The orange ship is empty and riding high, heading into the port. The blue ship is fully laden and riding low in the water, heading out into the Gulf to parts unknown.

Mark Twain has nothing on us. For the past couple of weeks we've been enjoying spending time enjoying the land and sites along the Mississippi. We've seen a lot of different and sometimes weird stuff – everything from the World's Largest Catsup Bottle to the locks on the big river to an air show. 

The Confluence
The photo above shows The Confluence, the point where the Missouri River – Big Muddy – converges with the Mississippi. It wouldn't be wrong to consider the little bush in the water on the left side of the photo to be the dividing point for the two rivers. We have been to Lake Itasca in Minnesota and the headwaters of the Mississippi and we have been to the river's delta in Louisiana. Now we have added Big Muddy to our Mississippi experience.

It was from the confluence that Lewis and Clark began their journey westward in May of 1804. But the courses of both rivers have shifted over the years, and at that time the confluence was some two miles from where the rivers meet today. The picture above is a panorama composed of seven shots stitched together. Make sure you click on the image to see it across your computer screen. Below is Linda looking out over the rivers.

Cahokia Mounds
While we were staying on tne Illinois side of the river, we visited Cahokia Mounds, the archaeological site for Cahokia, the largest city in pre-Columbian North America. In the 1200s Cahokia was larger than London with over 20,000 inhabitants. At its peak it had some 30,000 to 40,000 people, and it wasn't until 1780 when Philadelphia's population passed 40,000 that a city in the United States would be larger.

The Cahokia settlement began in the 8th century and lasted some 700 years until 1400s. The Mississipian culture did considerable farming, and it is speculated that the city dwindled away as the land became "farmed out" and less able to support the population. During the time it was a major population center there was considerable trading with tribes from as far north as the Great Lakes and as far south as the Gulf Coast.

The most unique feature of Cahokia was its mounds. They estimate there were more than 120 earthen mounds over the 6 square miles of the city. The mounds were of all sizes and several different shapes. The largest of these is a huge hummock known as Monks Mound, the largest prehistoric earthen mound in the Americas. It is 950 feet long, 835 feet wide, and 100 feet high with over 130 steps. All those steps seemed like a challenge, so I took it and went to the top. Was I surprised! Standing on top of Monks Mound I looked out and saw a dramatic view of the St. Louis skyline and Gateway Arch some ten miles away on the other side of the Mississippi.

Some Fun Americana Along the Mississippi
One of the fun things about traveling is seeing the silly, strange, and unusual. In Alton, Illinois there is a statue to one Robert Wadlow, known as the tallest person in history. Wadlow died in 1940 at the age of 22. He was 8' 11" tall and weighed 440 pounds and never stopped growing.

​Reading about Robert's life, you can't help but feel sorry for him. While his family worked at giving him a normal life, his size never let that happen. Even though he was a normal size at birth, he grew rapidly and was already taller than his dad at the age of eight. The statue of Robert is perfectly life-sized. 

To make big things a bit of a theme, let's move on to the World's Largest Catsup Bottle. That's right. World's Largest Catsup Bottle. Who doesn't want to see this? The folks in Collinsville, Illinois are most proud of it and consider it a landmark. It is lit at night so it can be enjoyed at any time. 
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The bottle-shaped water tower was built in 1949 and was near demolition in the early 1990s when the Catsup Bottle Preservation Group – yes, the Catsup Bottle Preservation Group – began fundraising to save it. It was restored in 1995. Now the 170 feet tall catsup bottle has its own website, is visited by maybe tens per day, and has a place in the National Register of Historic Places.


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St.  Louis Air Show
This past Saturday we met up with April, Jeremy and the boys at the St. Louis Air Show. It was a gray and very chilly day, but we all braved it to watch all sorts of neat airplanes. In fact, it wasn't chilly, it was COLD! It was gray and sunless, and 50 degrees. Cold. The only saving grace was the lack of wind.

Linda and I have never been to an air show, so this was a new experience for us. We saw a B-29 Superfortress, one of only two still flying; current day jets including a performance by a plane from Canadian CF-18 Hornet demo team; and some great trick flying by the Phillips 66 Aerostar aerobatic flying team and an aerobatic biplane. It was all great fun, even if a little chilly.

MeeMaw's Bus
A week or so ago while visiting with the twins the boys became fascinated with a picture of our motor home that was on my iPad. So it became obvious that a visit was in order. 

The other day Jack and Tom showed up to check out MeeMaw's bus. There were many things to see and inspect, including the refrigerator, the bathroom, and the bed. They even saw the table and the sofa move as Pop-Pop moved the slide in and out. But the main attraction of the day was sitting behind the steering wheel and driving the bus.

Once again we are in St. Louis to see the Die Wunderkinder, Jack and Tom. They are just a month or so short of
2-1/2, growing great and as busy as can be. 

We spent a day doing some apple picking at a local orchard with the boys and April and Jeremy. The trees were heavy with sweet, crispy apples, and the apples were low enough for these little guys to reach up and pick. And eat. Each of them was able to put away a complete apple before heading to the restaurant to polish off a pretty good-sized lunch.  

We have lots of activities planned to do with them, and we are all very excited. There will be a trip to Purina Farms to see the animals and the dog show, and one day the boys will visit us at the campground and see MeeMaw and Pop-Pop's bus. They very much like buses – and other big vehicles like trucks.

From Arkansas we headed into Illinois and picked up the Mighty Mississippi, driving along the Great Rivers Road. Near Kaskaskia, Illinois, not too far into the state, we found ourselves on a bluff overlooking the river. So here is this trip's first really good look at Ol' Man River. 

The Zephyr at the museum is Number 9900, the first one built, and it has been fully restored both inside and out. It was delivered in the spring of 1934 – 84 years ago – by the Budd Company of Philadelphia to the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy (CB&Q) Railroad. It immediately captured the country's imagination with its sleek, streamlined appearance. In fact, fifty thousand visitors showed up to tour the train during a CB&Q open house shortly after it was delivered.

Everything about this train was different. It was stainless-steel, not painted. The cars were long and sleek, not dumpy and dark green. And there was no steam engine, but rather a stainless-steel, diesel-powered locomotive that was as smooth and shiny as the rest of the train. The Zephyr was a beautiful thing by any measure.

The long, low stainless-steel railcars were like none ever seen before, as different from the passenger railcars of the day as your flat screen TV is from a 1950s black and white model. The cars did not even have their own wheel sets or trucks. These railcars were articulated with connecting cars sharing a set of wheels. With the carbodies so closely coupled, the train looked to be a single entity rather than a string of individual cars. It looked like... well, like a silver streak.

A very nice young lady from the museum arranged for me to get in an hour early to take some photos before the museum opened. She also had the train's interior opened for me even though it is currently closed to the public as they are redesigning their interior exhibit.

The Zephyr is located in a long narrow hall constructed exclusively for the train during a museum renovation in the late 1990s.  It is three stories below ground level; the train was lowered into place by cranes, and the building closed over it. The long, narrow hall made it awkward to take pictures, and I was limited to few angles of the exterior of the train along with just a few interior shots. Nevertheless, it was a thrill for me. 

Allow me to take you on a tour of the three carbodies that make up this train, moving from front-to-back with a few photos and some brief descriptions. Please enjoy this short visit with the Silver Streak, which the Chicago Museum of Science & Industry calls “the train that would reinvent travel and design.”

Now that you have seen this special train from front to back, inside and out, let's complete your visit to the past. Imagine it is 1934 and you are lucky enough to be one of the 86 passengers on the Zephyr for its record speed run from Denver to Chicago. You settle back in a plush seat that is about 6-inches wider than today's airline seat and watch the countryside zip by and see the crowds gathered on hillsides and at crossings to watch the Zephyr race past. It takes just 13 hours for the trip. The Burlington’s other passenger trains — all steam powered — typically needed 25 hours to cover the same route. You are in Chicago almost before you know it. You feel as though you just experienced a new era of travel. And you did.

Today we are again in a completely different era – airplanes, Interstates and automobiles. But even with today's Interstate highways the Zephyr would have beat you to Chicago by 2 hours – even more if you stop for gas and bathroom breaks. And if you stay off the Interstates (after all, this was a land of 2-lane highways in 1934), then your no-stops drive will have you arrive more than 7 hours after the Zephyr.

The Zephyr-class trains sped across the rails for more than twenty-five years even after newer designs became the standard.  Eventually, inevitably, airplanes and cars took over travel in the United States, and passenger trains essentially went away. Sic transit gloria.

We hope you enjoyed your time on the Pioneer Zephyr. Thanks for joining us for the train ride!

This is as good a picture as I could get of this plaque attached to the side of the Zephyr. It cites its speed records which were set almost immediately after the train was delivered to the CB&Q. Below is the text of the plaque.