Into The Rain

York County, PA, Indian Rock Campgrounds & The Heritage Trail

July 25, 2009

It's been a pleasantly cool, but rainy week for us in York County, PA.

We left Virginia early morning of the 17th under cloudy skies. Our route took us back onto S.R. 608, which we followed to Route 24 and headed West into Roanoke. By the time we connected with I-581 a steady rain began. The majority of our trip was North on I-81 and, unfortunately, defined by constant rain; at some points outright downpours. What should have been a pleasant journey through the foothills of the Blue Ridge & Allegheny Mountains proved to be a very long, difficult drive. As we made our way East along Route 30 through Gettysburg towards York, PA the rains continued, leading to several leaks throughout the rig. By the time we reached the campground there was a steady drip through the front, overhead console and the bed was completely soaked from water forced through the AC unit while driving through the heaviest downpours. Oh well, some of the minor hassles of living in a motor home.

Our latest stay is at the Indian Rock Campgrounds located in farm country about 3 miles from the town of York. It is a private grounds with 30 RV sites and open areas for primitive camping. It is clean, quiet, friendly and has a wifi connection. Surprisingly, for this part of the country, it is open all year and there are about six full-time RV residents throughout the property. We had originally reserved for 7 nights, but have decided to extend for another week. It's comfortable and very reasonably priced. Although we have had a lot of rain, the cool nights have been great for sleeping.

A nice surprise was discovering that within short walking distance there are two places for local produce and meats. One is Miller Farms (pictured above) where we can find fresh from the field corn and tomatoes. The other is Miller's Meat Market which offers not only some of the best meats anywhere (both fresh and smoked), but also a wide variety of homemade soups, salads, slaws, original sauces and gourmet spices. We are eating very well.

Another perk is close access to the York Heritage Rail Trail. Dedicated in 1999, this trail runs along sides of train tracks that were originally part of the North Central R.R. system. The entire trail is 21.3 miles in length, starting at the Pennsylvania/Maryland border and ending in downtown York. One of the many historical aspects along the trail is the 370' Howard Tunnel; one of the oldest working tunnels in the world. The track is still used for rail transport, but very infrequently. Deb & I walked about 6 miles along it into York yesterday. It is nicely surfaced, well maintained and can be used for hiking, jogging, biking and horseback riding. We passed through hardwood forests, along steams and historical old farms and enjoyed numerous varieties of wildflowers lining the path. A highly recommended "point of interest" if you're ever in the area.

Studying the history of York County over the past week has been fascinating. In almost every way possible, this area has been in the center of major events that defined our country's early history.

It was first settled in 1729 by family and friends of William Penn. Based upon abundant natural resources and close proximity to major waterways, the region quickly developed into a thriving industrial and agricultural region. During the years 1777-1778, the 2nd Continental Congress convened in York for drafting the Articles Of Confederation. Later, the area became a major supply center and medical treatment outpost for the Civil War. It was frequently visited by early Presidents who passed through on the few railways then leading North out of Washington D.C. Abraham Lincoln utilized these railways for delivery of his Gettysburg Address. Unfortunately, it was also a part of his funeral train that passed through on April 21, 1865 where thousands of people lined the tracks waving American flags.

Hopefully, the weather will be less rainy for us over the coming week. I'll update you later on our activities as time and wifi access allows.

Photos by Deb

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

Heading North

Smith Mountain Lake State Park, VA

July 20, 2009

We left NC on July 13th and started for VA in a light rain. Heading out on I-40 East, we picked up Route 220 North in Greensboro. Somehow we missed the a sign and ended up on Route 29. Thanks to Deb's quick navigation skills, we were able to take Route 58 West out of Danville, VA which brought us back to 220. Thankfully, the rain had stopped. We followed this Route all the way to Franklin, VA where we picked up SR 122 towards the park. It was a beautiful drive through the rolling foothills of the Blue Ridge lined with productive farms and small towns. Along SR 122 we passed the Booker T. Washington Nat. Mon. and through the town of Burnt Chimney where a sign stated it was first inhabited in the 1750's. After turning onto SR 608 we headed South through more rolling farmland to SR 626 and entered Smith Mountain Lake State Park.

Smith Mountain Lake itself was created in 1960 when Appalachian Power built a dam on the Roanoke River in Smith Mountain Gap creating the 2nd largest body of fresh water in the state. Construction of the dam was completed in 1966, and in 1967 the power company donated the first parcel of land for the park along the North shore. The state bought the rest of the park land over the next six years and it opened to the public in 1983. (The pictures above are of a small cove area of the lake.)

The park is in a setting of mature hardwood forests and is very well kept. For its size, it offers a broad variety of activities including camping, swimming, boating, hiking and interpretive programs. We were able to obtain the last pull-through site that was level, nicely paved with crushed limestone and, mercifully, very few insects. We could book for only four nights and the campground was almost to capacity for our entire stay, including the primitive sites. This started to make sense after Deb told me she saw a news piece that RV sales are booming right now. People have decided it is cheaper in the long run to vacation in an RV as opposed to staying in motels and eating constantly in restaurants. The only odd surprise was the lack of wildlife. Other than a few squirrels, there were very few birds and no signs or tracks of animal species you would expect surrounding a lake ecosystem.

Our time passed quietly. We read books, Deb took a few photos, I did some writing and we hiked on a short trail. It was a very peaceful stay and, for me, one of contemplation about our nation's history. As I looked into the lush hardwood forest surrounding our site, my thoughts kept going back to the settlers of the small towns we passed through who lived in the area over twenty years before the Declaration Of Independence. What would they think of the area now?

Update you from somewhere down the road.

Photos by Deb

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

Out Of The Campgrounds

July 12, 2009

It's been a pleasant five days for us here in the gently rolling hills just South of Winston Salem NC. We are parked at the property of our friends Ann & Dave Hale. Thank you friends for your hospitality. It has been a pleasure to spend time in a rural area defined by well-kept horse farms, friendly people and beautiful vistas.

It has also been nice to have a short break from staying at campgrounds.The places we have stayed up to this point have been nice, but there is a lot to be appreciated in private solitude and modern conveniences like a steady wifi signal and indoor plumbing.

A few observations on campground living. We are far from pros in full-time RV living at this point, but we have enjoyed learning some of the rhythms and patterns of people at the places we've stayed. We are normally at a spot longer than most guests; usually five days or more. The average stays tend to be no more than four days and are usually over weekends. There is a nice mix between RV and tent campers and, so far, all have proven to be friendly, respectful and trustworthy. There have been numerous times we have left our site for extended periods of time and not worried about leaving things like chairs and other items outside. No one has touched or stolen them while we were gone. Most campers wave hello when passing by, but tend to stay to themselves. I think this is because most people come to campgrounds to, for the most part, get away from people and everyday life for a little while.

One of the more humorous aspects of observing people is their obsessions with setting up satellite dishes. This is a modern day camping trend I had not anticipated. Most big rigs already have them attached, but for most there is a labor-intensive process of mounting the unit and then figuring out the direction to receive a clear signal. While at Skidaway State Park we had a couple from Riverside, CA beside us who spent at least two hours trying to align a dish. There were constant shouts from the wife, who was looking in a window, of "74", "76", "82", "86" and then "Too fuzzy. I Quit". At that point I was heading to the dumpster and the husband stopped me to inquire, "Do you have a dish?". I informed him we only had a small TV with an antenna. Exasperated, he replied "Well, If I can't get this figured out I guess we'll just have to waste our time doing nothing". This sent my brain into a spin. When did not watching the tube, especially in the middle of a park, become a lifestyle of doing nothing? It gives me one more thing to ponder about modern life.

We're off to Virginia tomorrow and will update more of our travels as computer access allows.

Photos By Deb

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

South Carolina

July 7, 2009

An apology for the layout. This program has its own quirks that, now matter how I structure the paragraphs, it ends up entirely different when I post. Will try to edit for corrections at a later time.

It's been a busy two weeks for us in the Greenville, SC area. My parents and sister live here, which has provided for good family time plus several trips into the mountains. Unfortunately, we have had limited computer access. Apologies for the length of time between posts.

On our way to Greenville we made a quick stop at Wms.-Brice Stadium in Columbia for the included picture. It is of me holding the Geyer Family College Bowl Football trophy in front of the home field of the South Carolina Gamecocks. For those not in the know, each year our family holds a competition to determine who can pick the most college bowl winners for the season (which, in my opinion, has become absurd in the number now played each year). The winner then takes possession of the trophy and, on more than one occasion, the loser has forwarded the trophy to the winner in disassembled pieces. It would be an understatement to say our clan is VERY competitive to the point of needing a Dr. Phil intervention. As fate would have it, Deb won this year. The win was an especially sweet in that it was her first time in the competition. Given our new travels, we decided to add a new dimension to the tradition. (Yes, we can be as competitive as the rest.) We will be taking as many pics. as possible of the trophy in front of stadiums of teams eligible for bowl bids. It will be interesting to see if future winners can match the number of pics. we document.

For the first few days we helped my parents with tasks around their property and settled into our site at Paris Mountain State Park. Developed in the mid-1930s by the CCC as a watershed for the area, the park is more urban in setting than most state parks but still beautiful and well-maintained. There are ample hiking trails, a large lake for swimming and, blessedly, paved camping sites.

As an aside, if you are ever in the Greenville-Spartanburg area do not pass up a meal at Bucky's Bar-B-Q. Located on the outskirts of Greenville in a non-descript metal building, it is the best Carolina Bar-B-Q you will find anywhere! Offering chopped pork, ribs or chicken plates and sandwiches from meats smoked in an attached shed, it is a melt-in-your-mouth experience. Sides range from crispy sweet potatoes to baked beans to coleslaw and are all homemade delicious. My suggestion is the chopped pork sandwich smothered in their mustard-based sauce topped with a large garnish of coleslaw. It's the only way to eat a true Carolina Bar-B-Q sandwich.

Another must do if you are anywhere close to Ashville, NC is visit the Biltmore Estate. Do not pass Go, do not give it second thought, do not put it off until a later time. There is a reason it is on the official Things To Do Before You Die list. Deb and I spent a day there and, believe me, it is unlike anything you will experience in your lifetime.

Completed in 1895 by George W. Vanderbilt, it is officially registered as America's largest home. Vanderbilt's goal was to create an American castle that riveled those he had visited in Europe and, with unlimited wealth, more than passed all expectations. The estate alone was once the largest single-owned property in America. A portion of the land and home is still privately owned by Vanderbilt's grandson, William A.V. Cecil, with the remaining land becoming part of what is now the Pisgah National Forest. The Castle (home) is filled with priceless masterpieces, antiques and intricate architectural details. The gardens and grounds, designed by Frederick Law Olmstead whose best known work is New York's Central Park, are beyond words. Any further descriptions I could provide would not be adequate to the overall experience. Just Google Biltmore Estate and be amazed.

It has been nice to spend quality time with family and enjoy the Greenville region. It's not only a nice place to visit, but also a nice place to live. We are still enjoying our full-time RV lifestyle and look forward to sharing more of our adventures from somewhere down the road.

Photo by Debbie

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

Into The Quiet

June 22, 2009

Poinset State Park

Wedgefield, SC

It's been a quiet week here at Poinset State Park. There is a peacefulness to this place that is very rejuvenating.

We left Savanna, GA early last Monday morning and headed North on I-95. Along the way were the usual stops for food, supplies and gas. At S.R. 261 in SC we headed West towards the park. It was nice to finally get away from Interstate routes. How many McDonalds, KFC, South Of The Border and motel billboards can one see without going totally brain dead? Along 261 we passed through farms, forests and the small towns of Paxville (pop. 248) and Pinewood (pop. 459). While waiting at the only stoplight in Pinewood, we read that the local gas-mart offered liver pudding, butt meat and souse - not items you come across everyday. For those not familiar with rural Southern cuisines, souse is a headcheese sausage made from the meats of heads and feet; usually pork. I asked Deb if she would like to sample some of the local fare, but she passed. It's an acquired taste.

Poinset State Park is about as far from everything as one can find. It is bordered by both the Manchester State Forest and a large U.S.A.F. gunnery range. Even after turning off of 261 there is an almost two mile drive to the park entrance. The nearest convenience store is almost ten miles away. That kind solitude may seem inconvenient for many people, but what a beautifully quiet atmosphere it provides.

The park was developed by the Civilian Conservation Corp. during the years 1937-38. Covering 1000 acres, it has a unique ecosystem that blends elements of both the upstate and coastal regions. We spent one morning hiking a 1.7 mile trail around the lake that was downright rugged at points. For this part of the country, the trails have a very high mountain feel to them. The campsites are clean and level, the staff friendly and the facilities spotless. The best part is the cost. An eight night stay, including 30 amp. electrical hookup and water, is only $113.00.

The only noises we did hear were weekday practice maneuvers of a fighter jet squadron over the gunnery range. At times they flew low enough to shake the ground. But they reminded me of thoughts I had while in Savanna. During the weekend mornings there we heard the sounds of mortor explosions from the National Guard Training Center. My first thought in both places was a reminder of the awesome powers of our armed forces. Then another thought arose. Unfortunately in too many places today around the world, and for too many people, these sounds are a routine occurrence - but it's not practice. Perhaps this was precipitated by the fact that my nephew's Army unit is scheduled for deployment to Afghanistan in August. Let us hope that all of our troops can return safely as soon as possible.

Update you later on our travels from somewhere down the road.

Photgraphs by Debbie

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

Crossing The Border

Skidaway Island State Park

June 14, 2009

Skidaway Island State Park

Savanna, GA

We arrived here on June 8th after a smooth trip going East on I-10, then North on I-95. The only problem arose on a twenty mile stretch N. of Brunswick, GA. Heavy construction in both directions with narrowed lanes and too many concrete barriers too close to the road. In a 35 ft. motor home that can be tricky driving. Every large passing truck creates a wind draft that makes the unit drift to the right. Thankfully, we made it through without scraping a barrier.

Crossing the border out of Florida was a major turning point. It was a symbolic passage into a new life; which can leave your mind in a twist. We no longer have a fixed space of residence, but a mobile one. It takes the mind a little time to adjust to that change in thinking about residency. We saw it when we would tell people of our plans to live full-time in an RV. They would become silent and turn their eyes slightly upward as they thought about it. Usually we would get responses like, "Oh, so you'll be back after the Summer?" or "Where will you really live?". They just couldn't grasp the concept of no fixed place. This, unfortunately, was not helped by the resort owner who, for his own professional face-saving motive, floated disinformation that we were only taking a sabbatical and would return in a few months. We made sure that tidbit of false information floated about as long as a cast-iron turd.

Skidaway Island State Park is beautiful and very nature oriented. Located on a barrier island of the same name, it is ecologically a delta area where fresh waters combine with tides from the Atlantic creating nutrient-rich tidal marshes and estuaries. The woodlands are thick with oaks, maples and pines accented by cabbage palms and Spanish moss. The bird population is extremely diverse. We were fortunate to spot a Painted Bunting during one of our hikes. Another nice touch to the surroundings has been a mature doe who has casually walked by our site on several early mornings.

To say the procedures here are laid-back would be an understatement. At check-in you simply drive around and pick a site that isn't already occupied. If you arrive after the office is closed you can still stay and pay the next day. Instead of a ranger on weekdays at the front entrance, there is a sign stating that the $5.00 vehicle fee can be left in the collection boxes at the parking areas. But it's that kind of atmosphere that makes this place comfortable. It's quiet, the staff friendly, other campers respectful and there is a wifi hot spot by the office. Except for several muddy sites, it's a nice place to hang. The only big drawback has been the heat. This time of year it is a sultry, oppressive HOT that begins early and makes moving around in the afternoons almost unbearable.

We have also been crossing borders the past two weeks on more personal levels; namely adjusting to our new home and redirecting time outside of a daily work schedule. Make no mistake. There is still daily work to be done, but now our time is not structured by someone else.

The adjustment to living in the RV has not been difficult. Because of living and working together at the resort, we were already comfortable with being around each other constantly. This, we found through research, can be a major problem with those who try this lifestyle and have not been around someone 24/7. The other major transition problem other found difficult was a reduction in living space. Again, because of the resort, this also has not been an issue. The studio unit we lived in had almost the exact same square footage as our RV; just a different layout. A few problems have cropped up like a leaky toilet valve and ants, but both were easily remedied. So far, so good.

The nice thing about this way of live is that it makes you think ahead. Think about living without the conveniences of municipal water, sewer and electrical systems. What if you were three miles from the nearest store and your only way there was by walking? How would you plan meals for seven days if it was not convenient to make a quick trip to the store by car? We have water and electrical hook-ups at all sites. Dump stations for our black and gray water tanks. We could go to the nearest store in the RV. But once you reach a site, set things up and fold out the awning it is easier to not move unless absolutely necessary. So we make sure that our gas tank is filled for use of the generator, if necessary, that the LP tank is full for running the frig and stove and buy enough supplies for the length of our stay. Like I said, it makes you think ahead, but in a good way. It makes life much easier in that it allows the time to enjoy life around you in a more relaxed manner.

I'm sure there will be more adjustments to come, but by crossing these borders we have learned a great deal more about new places and ourselves. It's a nice, new and adventurous expedition into previously unexplored territories.

Photographs by Debbie

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer

Gone, Gone, Gone

Carillon Tower & Suwannee River

June 3, 2009

We pulled out of the Rooftop Resort parking lot around 7 a.m. on June 1st. After months of discussing the idea of full-time RV living, scouring every available resource to find the right unit, packing, repacking and putting our affairs in order it was exhilarating to feel the forward movement towards our new way of life. Ironically, for me, it was the ten year anniversary of moving to the area from South Bend, Indiana; which I found fitting in my belief it is important to complete life circles. There were no tears, high-fives or fond farewells to the neighborhood. In later discussions we both shared feeling no sense of sorrow or regret in the leaving. We will miss the beautiful vista of the Atlantic ocean we enjoyed every day, but the work and general lifestyle in S. Florida had worn us both out.

The Eastern coast of Florida is a tropical paradise of warm weather, beautiful vistas and superb exotic foods all underscored by an eclectic mix of cultures. But there is an ugly underbelly to the region that, after a time, proves to be a slow infestation on the soul. Once beyond the wow factor of no more cold, exciting new places to go and ocean views, it hits like a hammer to the head that there is indeed always a yin to the yang. Violent crime rates, horrendous traffic patterns (especially on-season), transient populations and hurricane seasons can eventually leave one feeling it is more of a place to be endured than enjoyed.

Most of the day was spent on I-75 heading North. First across Alligator Alley then up the West coast. We actually did see one gator floating in a canal. It looked like a gray-white log with a tail. The trip was smooth and uneventful with surprisingly few rattles or shifting of our stuff. We did a good job of packing things for constant transport in a moving vehicle considering we're virgins at it. The Pace Arrow drove solid for her age. After brief stops at a Flying-J for fuel and a Wally World (Wal-Mart) for foods stocks, we arrived around 5 p.m. in White Springs, Fl. for a 7 day stay at the Stephen Foster Folk Culture Center State Park.

Upon entering we knew the right choice had been made for the first stop in our new journey. Slowly making our way along winding roads to our campsite, we were greeted by lush woods filled with massive oaks draped in Spanish moss. The place just screams antebellum Old South. After a few wrong turns we found our site, set up what we needed and watched nature unfold. While squirrels foraged, an amazing chorus of bird songs and the hypnotic, slow sway of the moss kept us spellbound for hours. After the atmosphere we had left only hours earlier, it felt like nirvana. We sat, ate, opened a few windows to continue enjoying the bird chorus and slept like infants.

* * *

June 7, 2009

Our time here has been relaxing and more informative than we could have ever imagined. Home to the annual Florida Folk festival, this park provides a perfect balance between nature and Florida's cultural heritage.

One of our first hikes was to the Suwannee River, Luckily, we hit a week when the river has been at its highest peak all year. It is a "black water" system that starts in the Great Okefenokee Swamp and winds its way for eventual release into the Gulf. The blackness of the water comes from the tannic acids of cypress trees and decaying vegetation. Fed by hundreds of underground springs that, at one time, poured half a billion gallons of fresh water into the system daily, the river lightened as it reached the Gulf. Unfortunately, the amount of fresh water has diminished tremendously of the years due to shrinking water tables, now causing the river to remain murkier at all points. But it still remains a beautiful, largely unspoiled natural area that is unlike anything else in the state.

The centerpiece of the park is the world's largest carillon tower comprised of 97 tubular bells. From 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., it chimes the hour including notes on every quarter hour. At 10, 12, 2 & 4 it also fills the park with renditions of Stephen Foster tunes. They are some of his lesser known works, but still beautifully melodic. The sounds of the bells became a very relaxing part of our days.

One of our more fascinating visits was to the Stephen Foster Museum that is housed in an antebellum mansion typical of those that existed in Foster's era. The first thing that strikes you upon entry are the beautiful oil paintings of Foster overhanging fireplaces in both of the grand rooms. Dioramas depicting interpretations of scenes from his best known songs fill the building. There are reproductions of his sheet music sitting on pianos of the era, plus the desk upon which he wrote "Old Folks At Home".

As far as anyone knows, Foster never actually saw the Suwannee. He was a prolific composure from Pennsylvania, born into a wealthy business family, who had neither the inclination or patience to be a businessman. In all, 201 of his songs were published. While he was writing the lyrics for "Old Folks At Home" he showed up at his brothers office frustrated that he could not find a two-syllable Southern river that fit the tune. After suggestions of the PeeDee in South Carolina and the Yazoo in Mississippi, both of which Foster disliked, his brother pulled out an atlas and suggested the Suwannee. Foster liked it, dropped it from three to two syllables (Swannee) and an American Classic was born.

It was also interesting to learn the history of White Springs. Now a sleepy little town, it was once a major tourist destination for its mineral springs spa. The old spas concrete skeleton sits at the entrance to the park and, beginning in the early eighteen hundreds until the early seventies, became a place to "take the waters". Rich in sulphur, the spa waters touted cures for everything from the gout to dandruff to mental disorders. It also offered colonics, warm blanket wraps and massages. Admission was 25 cents and ladies were permitted to bath without stockings: a bawdy atmosphere for the times! Because of this single business, the town once boasted 14 luxury hotels and numerous boarding houses.

On Saturday, we experienced an absolutely wonderful evening at the Arts In The Park Coffeehouse held in the auditorium. It was hosted by a fiddle player who entertained with tunes like "The Opossum and the Skunk". For two hours we listened to local artists share beautiful songs; most of their own composition. Some guitar, some piano, a colorful three-piece Old Opry trio, a storyteller and Ranger Larry. Most proudly proclaimed themselves "Crackers" and sang of a Florida lost and days when local waters ran plentiful. Many would argue about the use of the word "Cracker", but to those native born it is a term of pride. The word comes out of history. Old-time cow handlers would drive great herds of cattle across Florida to shipping points, popping long cowhide whips so loudly they could be heard for miles around. It is a link to their past. We reveled in the songs, sang along to an acapella version of "Amazing Grace" and felt a true community connection to those around us.

Tomorrow we head down the road to a park outside of Savanna, Ga. This place will be missed. We have rested, re-learned outdoor cooking, become familiar with our new home and met nice people. The fellow campers have been friendly and the facilities superb with beautifully maintained grounds and a top-notch staff. Between the people, the daily carillon bells and the setting it has felt almost ethereal at times. We are more rested and better people in both body and spirit because of our time here.

Photographs by Debbie

copyright 2009 Lane A Geyer