Wandering America



TWO KATTS AND A KAMPER:

Camping From a Katt’s Purr-spective

As told by Katie and Alex and written by Darrell Patterson  in  July  2003

 
IN THE BEGINNING 

Well, it all started like this.  Our humanoids decided that they should take up camping.  It was something that they had done and enjoyed in an earlier life, long before us.  My name is Katie and my brother is Alex.  We are purebred ragdoll katts (kittens, really).  We will refer to our humanoids as mom and dad from now on since they adopted us and gave us a nice home.  Mind you, we are not spoiled (as some have said) but just slightly pampered. 

At first there was some debate over getting back into camping.  Mom thought it would be a good idea, but dad thought that we had the “best campsite ever” right in our own back yard.  Mom’s complaint was that whenever she was home she felt that she had to do some type of housework.  She just couldn’t sit still and enjoy.  Mom wins.   

So it all began – RV shows, brochures, travel literature, “Trailer Life”, and “RV Today” (Jeri’s cute - eat your heart out, Stew) right up until the right unit was found.  What to buy?  Travel Trailer, Fifth Wheel, Class C, Class A – it was enough to make a grown cat cry (got anymore kattnip?). 

The first unit was a 1999 Cedar Creek 26-foot travel trailer.  It could be hauled with a half-ton truck, which was a good thing because that is what we had.  We kittens just loved it (ragdolls love to travel).  It was our palace.  It had plenty of kitty treats, a queen size bed to stretch out and bathe on, and plenty of things to get into (no catnip though – how come?).  Our favorite was the window blinds, which drove mom and dad crazy.  We would bend the blinds and stick our heads through them or spend hours batting the cords.  That is until mom came home with the squirt bottles.

We would travel to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula along the Lake Superior shoreline.  There are many scenic places from the Porcupine Mountains, Pictured Rocks, Seney National Forest, Taquminum Falls, the Soo Locks, and the Mackinac Bridge, just to mention a few.  The state parks are clean and a “best buy” when it comes to camping in Michigan.  Generally they only provide electricity, but we could survive three days on our water supply and holding tanks (we could do better than that if mom and dad used the park showers, but they’re snobs).  Weekend trips in the Lower Peninsula would be to inland lakes, which are very picturesque, and tranquil (big words for such little kittens – impressed?).  Michigan also has many biking and hiking trails that keeps our parents busy and gives us some quiet time (we ragdolls like to sleep during the day to get rested up in order to keep people up at night by getting into things).  We will write in detail about the Michigan trips in another article. 

Well you know that travel trailer only lasted nine months.  Humanoids always want bigger and better (“More Power – grunt, grunt, grunt”).  So home comes a three quarter ton pickup with a diesel engine and an Allison transmission.  It definitely means a bigger coach – that rig could pull a whole house down the road.  Then it starts all over again – RV shows, brochures, travel literature, “Trailer Life”, “Motorhome Magazine”, and “RV Today” (why so many repeats, Stew?).  How about a brand new (take the depreciation hit) Cedar Creek 33-foot fifth wheel with two slide outs and loaded with options.  Now that’s the cat’s meow.  We can really get into camping now (or shall we say RVing – smooth “roughing it” in this rig!!!). 

A FEW WORDS ABOUT DIESEL FUEL 

How much does a katt need to know about diesel fuel?  We know that it stinks, but there is a lot more than that as we learned by riding in the back seat of the truck.  First of all it is dirty.  Dad has to put on a plastic suit, gloves, facemask, hat, and booties just to pump the stuff.  If you are not careful you’ll step in it and it will stink up the whole truck.  Or forget to let the hose drain after you’re through pumping and you’ll have a new after-shave – especially when the wind is blowing in your direction.   (Yuck! – two kittens in the back seat licking our paws like mad trying to get rid of the stink).  

The most aggravating thing about diesel fuel is where they place the pumps.  If you are driving a Volkswagen beetle that burns diesel fuel, then you’ll have no problem getting to the pump.  But try maneuvering an eighteen-foot truck with a thirty-three foot fifth wheel into some of these places.  (Hey Mabel maybe we should sell diesel fuel, where do you think we should put the pump?  Over there, around the corner, next to the air pump that nobody uses – it will be out of the way over there.)  So dad goes in and says, “Sell very much diesel fuel?”  “Na, we’re really disappointed that nobody buys from us.”  “Wow, I wonder what’s up with that.”  Do they ever stop and think of what kind of vehicles burn diesel fuel – I guess not!  You’d think that the oil companies would provide some guidance on the placement of these pumps, but obviously they just don’t care (or have a weird sense of humor). 

The sign says “diesel fuel next exit”.  Yea, we won’t have to walk (ragdolls hate to walk on hot pavement).  So we take the exit and there it is sitting right out in the front, except there is only twenty feet from the pump to the street.  That means the coach will only have to block the intersection for the amount of time it takes to pump the fuel, wash your hands, and pay.  And look, it’s raining and they have put a roof over the pumps – how thoughtful.  Better look again, it’s only twelve feet high and the coach is twelve and a half feet (ever see a convertible camper?).  I guess we could go to Wal-Mart, disconnect the coach, go and pump the fuel, and then go back to get the coach – that really makes the RV life easy. 

Finally, there’s one.  The pump is in the back of the lot and you have to pull off the pavement to get to it. There are some junk cars to make sure that you can’t get a wide turn, but you should be able to maneuver into it. There’s a steel beam that goes up ten feet in the air to protect the pump from being hit.  So you watch your mirrors and keep the coach a good eight to ten inches away from that beam.  When you get out and look up you realize that the top of the beam is only two inches away from the coach.  The ground is not level and the coach is tilting toward the beam.  Two more feet and there would have been a nice hole in the side of the coach, most likely useable for circulating air.  Once you get your tank full, you have to back the rig out, too many junk cars to let you stay away from that beam (what were they thinking?). 

New rule established.  Only go to truck stops.  That is not always an option when you’re traveling on the “red” roads.  Besides that the fill pipe on the truck doesn’t accept the large nozzles on truck stop diesel pumps (if you’re not careful you get baptized in diesel fuel).  New rule, add a fifty gallon tank to the truck, now you can go from California to Maine without having to get more fuel.  Now that’s the cat’s pajamas. 

By the way, just one more thought while we’re on the subject.  What is this obsession with mileage?  Everywhere we go someone asks “how many miles ye git?”  Dad just replies, “Twenty-four miles a gallon, if it got any less I’d have to stay home and sit in the ‘best campground ever’.” 

 

THE MAIDEN VOYAGE 

Here we go.  New truck, new coach, wagons hoe!  We’re heading east (not west).  Our parents are smart; they have planned the trip so that we only have to ride for five hours a day.  They know that ragdolls get stressed out if they can’t get into things every six hours or so.  Besides, we need to stretch our legs by running from one end of the coach to the other (over the bed, sofa, table and whatever else strikes our fancy).  

The first stop was Holly, Michigan.  This is where Uncle Warren and Aunt Shirley live.  Uncle Warren helped dad build a shelf for the TV (or maybe we should say dad helped Uncle Warren).  The TV is too big for the entertainment center – Forest River think about it (most TVs are at least 19” deep, the entertainment center is only 17” deep – TV falls out while traveling and goes boom, the glass is bad for bare kitty feet).  This was a small project and went well.  We were on the road again the next day. 

The first overnight stop on our journey east was at Evergreen Lake Park in Conneaut, Ohio.  What’s a katt to say about a place like Conneaut, Ohio (another diesel fuel adventure, but we won’t get into that).  We went downtown at 6 o’clock to watch them roll up the side walk.  The campground was old but the sites are big enough to accommodate overnighters with big rigs, except we did manage to break off the radio antenna due to the low hanging branches. 

The drive to Harpursville, New York was pretty, especially while skirting along the Pennsylvania border.  The mountain views were beautiful.  Belden Hill Campground has wonderful views out across the landscape.  I’ll bet the fall colors are a sight to see (contrary to popular belief ragdolls are not color blind – at least we think we’re not).   

Now the adventure began.  We left Harpursville and headed northeast to Brattleboro, Vermont.  Since we were doing the “red” roads it was decided that we would follow route 20.  It looked like it would go around Albany, NY, but guess what?  Mom says, “Those townhouses sure are pretty” as dad’s knuckles were turning white.  Then we began to have fun, a mail truck parked half in and half out of a parallel parking space on an in town street going down hill.  There was barely enough room for two cars, let alone a ¾ ton pickup pulling an 8 feet wide fifth wheel.  People were looking at us like we just landed from Mars.  “What are those idiots from Michigan doing hauling that thing through the middle of town?”  We were just able to squeeze through with only inches to spare (Alex and I were impressed by the ole’ man’s driving abilities – does it really help to mumble like that?).  At the bottom of the hill there was a stop light and we had to make a left turn.  There they were – the high rises in the very center of Albany, NY (we’re going to drag this darned thing right through the center of town.  Yea, we kittens have never seen a big city before).  Fortunately for dad, who has no blood left in his hands, there was a road sign that indicated that route 20 turned right just two blocks before the high rises.  Over the bridge and out of town we go. 

Now we were on route 9 going from Bennington, VT toward Brattleboro.  Trailer Life’s 2003 RV Campground Finder software didn’t indicate any construction when we checked it out on-line, but there it was.  It started out with a couple miles of one lane traffic, then it went to four miles of gravel roads, next it turned into two miles of muddy two tracks, and finally we hit some bad road, mister.  Nine miles of serious construction (the coach is getting a bath tonight – maybe they’ll forget about trimming our toe nails). 

The rest of the drive through the mountains was scenic and beautiful.  The truck operated perfectly pulling the coach up the mountains at 50 to 55 MPH.  The Allison transmission was a dream with its braking capabilities when coming back down again (we kittens managed a katt nap in the back seat, yawn!).  We finally arrived at Brattleboro KOA, an excellent campground where we would spend several days on the return trip.

Finally it was on to Maine – “the way life should be”.  Thankfully dad’s driving skills weren’t challenged again.  We arrived at Little Ponderosa Campground in Boothbay, Maine mid afternoon.  This is a wonderful campground in a great vacation area.  They provide shuttle transportation into town (not many parking spaces thar!).  A walk around town is a must.  Also, there are other opportunities to be tourists.  Several cruises around the harbor and islands as well as an all day cruise to Monhegan Island (it will take about eight hours but it is worth it).  There are sailing vessels and various fishing cruises available.  Ragdolls don’t like to swim, so we elected to stay in the coach for the day.

The area is loaded with many good places to eat.  Our parents’ favorite was Red’s Eats in Wiscasset – their Lobster rolls are number one.  Wiscasset is noted as being the “Prettiest Little Village in Maine”.  Another favorite was the Dolphin Mini Golf and Ice Cream Hut serving Round Top Ice Cream with “huge” servings at reasonable prices which is a purr-fect way to end the day.  Life is good – lobster and ice cream, what could be better – Meoooow! 

A trip to Pemaquid Lighthouse Park, Pemaquid Beach, and Colonial Pemaquid is a worth while drive. The lighthouse was built in 1827 on spectacular granite cliffs (speak of a photo op).  The beach is one of a few sand beaches along the Maine coasts (cool off in the Atlantic salt water).  Colonial Pemaquid features the reconstructed Fort William Henry along with a museum and gift shop.  As you pass through New Harbor stop at Shaw’s Marina and Restaurant for lunch (say hi to Bill and Lloyd, dad’s old school buddies – just don’t get them started with beer!).  The restaurant has a great view from the eating deck to enjoy while you’re pigging out on fried clams, lobsters roll, or a hot dog.  Hot dog, Yuck!!!  Better stick with the clams and lobster.  Ragdolls love lobster, hint, hint, meow, purr!

 

THE RETURN TRIP 

Time goes by too fast when you’re having fun.  It was time to leave the fresh sea food behind (not a pleasant thought for a katt).  We returned pretty much the same route that we used to get to Maine, ‘cept we went south from Brattleboro to Interstate 90 (that by passed the “two tracking” adventure though the construction area as well as the scenic tour of Albany, dad says yea!).

We stayed in Brattleboro for four days.  It was fun to do day trips through the mountains, looking at covered bridges, visiting a teddy bear factory (one of mom’s favorite things, next to chocolate) and Hogback mountain where you can see for a hundred miles.  There were, also, some wine tasting opportunities (just give us kittens bottled water, pleeze!).

Then it was back to Harpursville, NY and Conneaut, OH.  We stayed at Covered Wagon Campground in Ottawa Lake, Michigan and returned home.  All in all it was a great trip, but it sure is nice to have a big house to stretch out in, run and play, and, yes, there’s the kattnip – it’s about time!

   
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