On the Road with Bob

Today I am in FABULOUS Las Vegas. I took a circuitous, but quick trip from Hillsborough, NH, where I visit my daughter in the summer. After travelling 1500 miles to Kissimmee, FL to pick up new registrations and insurance papers, I set out for the west. There was some impetuosity in the decision, since I am used to spending the winter in Florida, but I love the west and felt that I should be there for a while. At my age I have to weigh what things are important enough to experience before I cannot do them again. The 3000 mile voyage with the car and RV are in that category. I’ve never figured out how to live in the west, and still remain close to my family. They couldn’t be transplanted out of New England with a pitchfork. Oh, well……I love to be on the road.

It turned out that a friend, who resides in Laughlin, NV was in a bind!  He had booked a flight from Las Vegas and needed to get his conversion van from Mesquite, NV, where he was “comped” in the Casablanca Casino (He is a gambler), to Hurricane, UT to a storage facility. He was going EAST as I was going WEST. His destination was Cherry Hill, NJ to visit family for the holidays. Problems arose. His van broke down and required a new steering column. We had figured that if I didn’t dally, which IS my custom, I could meet him in Utah and drive him back to Nevada.But his mechanic let him down (Wow, that NEVER happens!), and instead of meeting him as planned, I drove to Mesquite and met him there. I stayed there that night.

Second problem: ( colliding coincidences ) We were  booked into hotels in Las Vegas before his van was going to be fixed, with no way to change the reservations. So we drove there and he checked in to Harrah’s and I checked into the Imperial Palace on the Strip.  Two days later we got word that the steering was restored. We drove back to Mesquite, NV, and I followed him to Hurricane, UT where he left the van, pulled down  the door, and we headed BACK to Las Vegas for the rest of our stay. Three hundred miles round-trip. I took him to the airport at 5:30 AM last Wednesday, and finally got to relax. I spent the next four nights at the wonderful  campground at Las Vegas Bay on Lake Mead. Private sites among palms and other plantings, with views of the lake and desert scenery . More about this trip in my next post.

For the past three years I have travelled to New Hampshire to visit with my daughter in Hillsboro. Before that, I visited her in the upper valley of the Connecticut River. It is always a joy to arrive in New Hampshire because the highways are so good! Yesterday I was on Route 9/202 heading toward Concord to attend the Obama acceptance-speech party. There has been construction on that stretch of road for weeks, but as they carry out the paving process, you can see what a superior job this state does to insure a smooth driving surface.

In Massachusetts for instance, the “bed” of the road  (that which underlies all the asphalt above) is only HALF the thickness of the Granite State’s. And as is evident today, as you travel the side of the road awaiting the new covering, the pavement is more than a skim-coat that other states try to convince their motorists will suffice. The obvious result is a level or well-banked roadway that lasts through many winters without the typical frost-heaves encountered elsewhere. This road is THICK!

Okay, there are plenty of smaller country roads here that are not in such pristine condition. There is some uneven pavement and stretches of not-well-repaired road. But compare the whole to the BEST of New Jersey and New York…..Yipes!  I swear an oath every time i travel across their thoroughfares-masquerading-as- highways, that I will forever avoid subjecting my suspension system to them in the future. But look at a map! It’s not easy getting out of New England going south, without bumping into this barrier of potential break-downs. And cheap gas lives in New Jersey!

With fuel in the stratosphere, I really don’t want to go too far afield of a straight line. Then there are the *&%Z#!  tolls! I currently travel in a 21 foot Class C motorhome. There are station wagons longer, and Hummers taller and heavier than some RVs. But when I pull up to the tollbooth at the east end of the Tappan Zee Bridge, the collector proclaims”TWELVE TWENTY-FIVE!” I then look around to select the portion of this bumpy ride I just bought.

The cities of southern New Hampshire cannot claim the distinction I have coveyed upon the state’s roads in general. Salem, that northern suburb of Metheun, MA has the worst stretch of road in the northeast….they’re calling it Route 28. I’m calling it the Oregon Trail without the wagons or the scenery. Go slow, friends; your springs, shocks and tires will thank you!