On the Road with Bob

A lot of new traffic light cameras are going into service in Orlando soon. It’s not a good thing;  not because they won’t provide millions in REVENUE,…they will, but the reason should be for safety….red light running is rife in the City Beautiful. Every morning one can hear of the accidents at all the usual places, primarily because those idiots are trying to stretch the spectrum from yellow to just-before-RED ! With opposing left-turn traffic, that’s not a great idea!

I grew up in Boston which is known for erratic and crazy driving. There is a major difference between those in the Northeast and those in Orlando. The Orlando drivers are also reckless, self-centered, speed-oriented and unwilling to give an inch, however they lack talent and driving skills. They are just BAD drivers.

In a world of high gas prices and lots of hyperbole about being green, one would think that jack-rabbit starts and stops,and speeding into red lights would become less frequent…given that much fuel is wasted with those practices. Doesn’t matter here! Since I got my license to drive in 1949 I have always tried to save gas by letting up on the gas pedal when sighting a distant red light, or yellow-turning-red. Cruising up to the car ahead with just a modicum of forward momentum can save a tablespoon of petrol, and even extend the life of the drive train of any vehicle. It simply won’t work in Orlando. The reason is ridiculously simple…the drivers here don’t look ahead to the condition of the lights ahead. And if they detect slowing or stopped cars upstream, they jockey to be in the shortest lane….no matter which one has the fewest cars…even to gain ONE DAMN SPACE!  It is stupid and maddening!  I am in the right-hand lane, generally, where I belong…watching all the action up ahead, and sensing the changing colors of the traffic lights and the relative speed and location of all the vehicles around me. As a light goes to yellow and red upstream, I slow to a cruise, so as to accelerate on the green. BUT WHOOPS…the guy speeding in sees the empty space ahead of me and takes immediate claim to gain a space. I end up braking for this freak of nature (not so freakish in this city, unfortunately), and my gas bill goes up commensurately.

One could play the game, as many here do, of speeding up slightly to prevent this hopscotching activity, and disallowing the creep his favored lane. But that is one more cause  for the  frayed nerves and some fender-benders.

And human nature (in-human?) dictates that if you need to change lanes or merge into traffic, the oncoming freak will speed-up to disabuse your notion. If you SUCCEED in getting into the traffic ahead of him or her, that jerk will STREAK AROUND YOU, and glowering as if you ruined the day, will pull into your lane just ahead of you to prove, once-and -for-all,  that HE REIGNS SUPREME on these friggin’ roads!

So why aren’t these cameras a good thing… because they are NOT traffic officers, and cannot testify in court that you broke the law. You MAY have broken the law…but maybe you didn’t!

I was ticketed in Delaware last year when my RV ticked-off a camera at an intersection on US 13. The resulting color pictures clearly showed my wheels over the line on RED. What was not so clear was the truck approaching and entering the intersection from the right with a load of PortaPotties, and I had no idea if he was going to proceed straight into the intersection, or turn right…but he wasn’t stopping! Instead of proceeding easily and safely through the yellow light, I was forced to BRAKE through the space, and over the line after RED. The official who reviewed the tape agreed with me that a shade of grey existed, and that I could successfully challenge the ruling. BUT….. I’d have to go 1,000 miles to Delaware for the ensuing court date…or pay $125. to avoid doing so.  This is wrong.  No camera can determine shades of grey; safety officers can do that. I oppose those new cameras on the pretext that there is no actual witness to what happens, and Big Brother should find other sources of revenue. In Orlando, where the State Police hide and wait for the slightest infractions to fatten the coffers (this is a proven published fact), more so than in most other areas, they’ll work less hard, as the friendly lenses  vicariously capture the action. Police would be the cause of slower driving and better driving in accordance with the existing traffic laws if the were MORE VISIBLE, moving WITH the flow, and not ALWAYS in the LEFT LANE, exceeding the limit as if they were above the law.

Cameras don’t show this behavior, but you and I know it happens. Who writes those tickets?

While driving from Las Vegas to New Hampshire this past two weeks, I sent Email to friends describing the roadscene. This post is a compilation of those observances. It was a relatively quick trip, for almost 3,000 miles; two weeks at an average of 215 miles per day, although I stayed for two days at Flagstaff and Springfield, MO. I only made a few side trips, and nothing very far off my route northeast.

The object was to get to New England for a visit with my daughter, a side trip to Loon Mountain (in the White Mountains of NH), a get-together with friends in Boston, and an appointment with the surgical team that replaced my right wrist, just nine weeks ago.

My love of the “blue highways” had to be filed under ‘too slow for this trip.’

I had spent about a week in Las Vegas, where I rescued my vehicle from storage. A long-time friend who is a gambler now living in Nevada , was in a ‘ slot tournament ‘ at Harrah’s on the Strip. I had flown in from New Hampshire, post surgery, and stayed at the Imperial Palace for two nights. I wanted to be sure that my vehicle was roadworthy after eight months of being stored in the sun. Doug came into town a few days later, and we visited for a few days.

I was spending my nights out at Las Vegas Bay campground, on Lake Mead. It is a beautiful desert site just 20-odd miles from the Strip. The story goes that the once -Las Vegas Wash operators of the nearby marina complained to Lake Mead Park Service that the name didn’t compete with the Boulder Beach and CallvilleBay marinas, for inducing boaters to use the facilities. The name was changed to the more attractive Las Vegas Bay, although today, there is not as much water in Lake Mead, and the marina has closed except for storage. Eleven years ago, I remember that there was a small gulch with water that some campsites bordered, but it’s a dry gulch now. There are two mens and womens comfort stations, and potable water is available, but no showers.There is a campground Host on-site, and the Rangers have a station near the marina. From the  distance it appears as an oasis, with palms and desert blooms. The views from the campsites are of the distant mountains, Lake Mead and broken  gulches and ravines.

Sunrise is spectacular, as are the sunsets, and the nights are peacefully quiet after a day in the city. The howl of coyotes is not uncommon.

After a week, with the maintenance chores complete, I drove south to the casino town of Laughlin. I went just after sunset, so as to travel in the relative cool of the  evening. Approaching Searchlight, NV (Harry Reid’s hometown) it was cool;  the town is up high, as the name suggests. Then up into the mountains, before a plunge down to the Colorado River. Laughlin is a pretty sight in the distance, as you descend to the bridge to Bullhead City, AZ. After that 100 miles, I stayed on the Arizona side for the night.

Next installment is (Part 2)

The Angel Oak

In 1976, when I first drove my coach into the Southland, I was captivated by the live oak trees and the beautiful magnolias that appeared along the road as I drove into the Carolinas. The approach to Charleston, SC on this trip, was south from Florence, SC, and as we motored along, we began to drive through overhanging branches of huge live oaks (called oak allees).

It seems impossible that the outstretched limbs can support the tremendous weight of solid oak, but there they are…reaching out for the sunshine….and old!

I remember consulting an AAA Tourbook of the area, and described therein, was a listing for a point of interest called The Angel Oak. It was out-of-the-way, on Johns Island, south of the city of Charleston. We camped at a small campground called Oak Plantation, and the name said it all. We were one of less than five other RVs staying among the big trees. Roaming free at this site was a small herd of cattle!

Route US 17 (The Ocean Highway) was little developed in this area at the time. The next morning, after departing the campground, I inquired at a small convenience store just down the road about The Angel Oak. Sure enough, the proprietor knew of it, and directed me down the adjacent road, and after a few miles of travel east, we came upon a small park, and before us was this TREMENDOUS behomouth of a tree, the likes of which were simply hard to imagine. It was one tree, not several trunks together, and it spread its branches a good 60 to 70 yards.

We took a lot of pictures that day, so long ago. It was damp and rainy and cold. This was late January, but we were astounded by this huge living thing. A rustic sign indicated that it was old enough to have been growing at the time Jesus lived. I doubted that it could be that old, but who knew?

Last year, as I was traveling down US 17, I passed the Oak Plantation Camping Resort. It has become a very popular place to stop, with a gatehouse/office just off the highway….and no more cows. I wondered about our little diversion almost 35 years before, and on a whim, I took the next left turn at at traffic light. It was Main Road. The convenience store had become a large gas station with a market. I was pretty sure it had been this turn I took in 1976.

A few miles down the road (a well-paved two-lane, now) I came upon the Angel Oak Shopping Center. This must be the place, I thought…duh.  A sign just past this intersection pointed to the big tree. It is now surrounded by a chain-link fence, and there is a small attended store on the premises. Nothing else has changed. The Angel Oak (named for a family that once owned the property), spread out before me, and I was again humbled by this natural specimen. The picture above really does not do it justice…if there had been another visitor there, he could have stood near the trunk, and he would have been dwarfed by the height and girth of the bole. If he had lain on the ground,and if he was tall, he might be long enough to stretch across its width.

Now that it is protected, I suspect it will be still more immense in 30 more years. I hope you will stop to marvel at this sight.

Lincoln NH

The first colors are beginning to show on an occasional tree in New Hampshire. I will be back to see some Fall leaf tints later, but  first I must fly to Nevada to get my car. Plans can change quickly, and instead of taking the RV out West to join my car,  I came to New England and got a new wrist! Recovery and rehab are proceeding quite well, so I have booked my flight, and I hope the heat abates somewhat in the next few weeks in Las Vegas where I have the Saturn stored. I’m planning to stay awhile in Vegas, and to meet a friend there. I will take my time traveling back to New England, and take advantage of the fact that I will be in the car, to do more mountainous driving, and to visit a few places that I might not take my RV.

Since my surgeon wants to see me at  3, 6 and 12 month intervals, I will be staying on the East coast in my class C  for the winter. After some “leaf-peeping” and visiting my family in October, it will off to Florida’s warmth.

Hoover Dam and new bridge

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.

Lake Powell

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.