Old Is Gold: Camping at Iowa's 2nd Oldest State Park

My latest camping trip could be considered a comedy of errors or the weird humor of the powers that be. What began as a 6-night camping trip with my wife--a reserved site and everything--ended up a 3-nighter by myself. What caused this shift in plans? How about a dangerous heat wave, our daughter and grandson's bad cold, a maybe-early/maybe-delayed Fed Ex shipment that needed a signature, and 12,000 bicyclists showing up in town for RAGBRAI? You know, the usual.

Finally I headed out of town to Lacey-Keosauqua State Park in SE Iowa, about twenty-five miles from our home. My wife and I had camped there about four years ago with our kids and grandkids, and I'd camped there a couple of times while passing through the area while bicycle camping, but we had never camped there with our tiny trailer.

A few weekends ago we took a Sunday drive to the campground to see what it looked like. Last year the park was closed for repairs and upgrades to the campsites. We were afraid the campground had been "modernized" like some--with a bulldozer to create the tract home, "Sewer Alley" look. Thank goodness that hadn't happened. Sewer had been upgraded, and a few more sites had been added to that area of the campground. On the non-sewer side, some tent sites had been converted to electric, and some of the old electric sites had been modified as pull-through sites rather than back-in. These modifications hadn't changed the feel of the campground, though.

Arriving around noon during the third day of our six-night reservation, I quickly set up camp, leaving the awning for Monday morning because a thunderstorm was forecast for that night. My main task for Sunday afternoon was to test the cellphone receptivity with and without our WeBoost signal amplifier. The signal was strong enough for Facetime (our hands-on signal strength test) and was stronger/faster with the WeBoost.

Yep, it was a nice rain that night, and Monday morning I put up the awning and then went for a walk. There is a path around the lake, for hiking only. I followed it for a while but decided to circle the lake early the next morning when it was cooler. Deciding to make Monday a rest day, I cooked myself a good lunch and then mostly relaxed and read after publishing a blog post about the recent heat wave. I didn't need the air conditioning on Monday, the fans being sufficient, and that night slept with the door closed and the fans off, with a low of 59 degrees.

During the night I had an interesting experience, a type I'd heard about but which had never happened to me. A rustling noise outside woke me, and I realized it was a raccoon, fiddling with the ice boxes. I yelled out the window to scare it off and then opened the door and turned on the outside light. There was no raccoon, but one ice box was open. The Yeti was safe and sound, but our cheap-o little Playmate box with a rotating roof-like lid was open. Yikes, I'd been burgled by a genius raccoon! It had actually pressed the unlock button on the handle and then rotated the lid till the box was open. Luckily, no essential food was inside. I had brought the smaller, less efficient box only to keep a couple of sodas, some cut watermelon, and some red grapes; I had transferred the remaining melon, grapes, and one soda to the Yeti before retiring for the night. That pesky raccoon did steal a potato I had baked at lunch that I was keeping for home fries the next morning, though. All that was left in the box were some muddy paw prints. Live and learn!

The next morning I was up early to take my walk, heading out at 7:45. The 2.1-mile trail around the lake was more primitive than the bicycle trails I usually ride--washed out in places, corrugated with roots and erosion, sometimes just a single track because of encroaching plants. I liked it, though. Lacey-Keosauqua is the second-oldest state park in Iowa, and in places the trail moved away from the lake and wound its way through stately trees and silent forest, providing a glimpse of what the terrain must have looked like before the arrival of plows. The path was very much for hiking only, much of it not bicycle accessible; in fact, bicycles are not allowed on the trail, probably for safety issues and also to lessen erosion.

Prior to my hike, I talked a bit to two motorcyclists who had set up their small tents and camped for the night. They were about my age--retirement age--and were having fun but weren't "let's tour the world" enthusiasts. We talked pannier camping--both bicycle and motor style--and I continued on my way to the trail. There is a tent-only primitive section in the campground near one trailhead to the lake trail. A car was parked at one campsite but no tent. I saw on closer examination as I walked by that two hammocks had been strung and that the occupants were still asleep. I walked by softly, glad for the campers that it had been cool enough to keep the mosquitoes down some, although I bet they had doped up with repellant prior to sleeping.

Walking the trail took an hour and twenty minutes, which included a lot of stops for enjoying the views and for taking photographs. One somewhat new experience in walking the trail was that I had to pay more attention to where I put my feet. If I were to have gawked too much, I would probably have fallen and possibly twisted an ankle--there were that many roots, stones, and uneven surfaces. I really enjoyed the experience, though. Have I really become that accustomed to flat, constructed walkways? I guess so! Walking the circuit also presented evidence of CCC and WPA construction that took place during the Great Depression. There is a bathhouse, stair systems, and several stone bridges along the trail's length. Different times and old construction methods built those structures to last--as they have.

After enjoying a cool night of sleeping with the vent, windows, and screen door for ventilation (but no fans), I woke up deciding to hike the lake trail again, even though it was the day to leave for home. I decided this time I'd have a more vigorous pace for exercise, taking fewer photographs. This cut twenty minutes off my hike to just an hour. I did stop to take a few photos, of course, but it was also good to try focusing more on the physicality of the hiking. It was a beautiful morning, though, so I certainly enjoyed the hike and didn't get all huffy and puffy in the cool of the early morning.

Arriving back at camp, I cooked myself a good breakfast, cleaned up camp a bit. I had dropped and put away the awning last night, so after breakfast I wrote some to finish this post, selecting photos and deciding at what point to finish this post's narrative. I think now's a good time. We're all familiar with the packing and hitching. It's been a pleasant time--in the best sense of the word--peaceful and relaxing.

Good news! Arriving home, my wife and I have reserved four nights next week at the same site.

I hope you've all found a nice spot to camp and relax after the heat spell. Having a quiet adventure isn't all that bad!

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How To Beat the Heat in Your Tiny Trailer

I'm on my phone reading news stories that have headlines like "Widespread, dangerous, and oppressive heat roasts much of the U.S. through the weekend" and "The Midwest and East Coast brace for 'extremely dangerous' weekend heat wave." Wouldn't you know it? This is the weekend when my wife and I have reserved a site for our 6-night campout in a local state park . . . and it's the hottest temperatures of the summer.

Tiny trailer groups on Facebook started getting posts like "What are you doing to survive the heat wave?" and "What are you doing instead of camping this weekend?" I was making manly noises and declaring that my wife and I should camp anyway. "I can write an article about the heat!" The Green Goddess had an air conditioner, and I'd camped a few weeks earlier when the temperatures rose to around 90. It would be an experiment, a test to determine how well our tiny trailer weathered the heat spell.

The week roasted its inexorable course toward the weekend, the temperatures rising higher and higher. Then on Thursday it rained, but still there was no break in the heat, only a rise in the humidity. Our tiny trailer sat in the driveway in full sun, slowing transforming into a solar oven. I turned on the air conditioning and found the trailer did indeed cool to a bearable temperature, but it also began to off-gas chemical smells as the heat baked the sides and roof of our plywood-constructed home.

"Maybe we can skip Friday and Saturday, then head out on Sunday when the heat breaks," I said, my wife in complete accord. I decided to conduct my AC experiment at home in the driveway as the heat wave dominated the next two days. I also decided to post on a couple of Facebook tiny trailer camping groups a request about how others beat the heat.

Heading out for six nights of camping at a local state park in Iowa. Temperature highs 90-99, lows 69-77. The site has electric. Our standy teardrop has a small air conditioner, but I'm interested if anyone has any tips (other than turning the ac on) that they use for camping in the heat. After our adventure, I might write an article on my experience and tips provided. Thanks!

This article includes both wisdom gleaned from experienced campers and the results of my personal "parked in the driveway in full sun" experiment with the Green Goddess.

The FB comments on my post provided good grist for thought. Some were anecdotal, some thoughtful, and some funny--and even those had a perspective. Sifting through the comments and categorizing them provided some useful tips for dealing with heat while tiny trailer camping.

Attitude
Several comments directly and indirectly addressed the idea that modern civilization has "narrowed" the range of temperatures in which we exist, by way of heating and air conditioning. Humans are capable of thriving in a much wider range than we usually do. "The frontier was settled without AC!" stated one Facebook comment. "However, I must admit, anything over 105° is tough. Sweat, it does a body good." People who work outside are much more accustomed to a greater temperature differential than people whose jobs keep them inside, which leads to a second concept, discussed below.

Acclimation
Acclimation is used in this article to mean that not only must the mind accept the idea of hanging out in the heat; the body has to spend time getting used to, or acclimating, to the greater heat. This will take time--time spent outdoors more, clothing modifications, water consumption acknowledged. Listen to your body. It will tell you things you need to know about dealing with the heat. One experience we have every year here in the Midwest is when the temperatures hit the 20s in the fall, we say, "Wow, it's cold!" And when the temperatures hit the 20s in the early spring, we all say, "Wow, it's warm!" We do adapt to the weather over time.

Site Selection
Where you camp was mentioned as a primary way of avoiding the heat. First and foremost, of course, one can travel to an area that is cooler. One witty yet pointed FB comment was the following: "Here's one more from the peanut gallery. 80° in the Southwest and in the shade, you'll want a light jacket!" Most times, though, we can't just take off till we reach a comfortable climate zone; we have to manage the weather right where we are. The best suggestions for finding cool spots said to seek out shade and to camp near water. "I always look at Google Earth before I choose a site to make sure the park has shady sites or better, a shady one with a breeze off the lake."

Activity Schedule
Being active when it's cooler is the general rule suggested. During daylight, early morning and late evening are the times of coolest temperatures. Work with that reality. One man said, "Typically, I’ll stay outside and in the shade during the day (a river / lake helps!), run the AC after dinner, and then may or may not run just the windows/fans at night." Another added, "Try to stay in shade during the day. Wait til the sun goes down to take your shower."

Camper Set-up
Don't worry, I will eventually mention air conditioning, but several other categories also deserve attention. Many tiny trailers don't have AC but still utilize build design to maximize air flow in the camper. One great help if you own a small, traditional teardrop is to use a cover canopy which shades the entire rig. If that is not possible (as with my standy trailer), then an awning provides shade and less heat. "I would think a large canopy or under some large trees next to a lake would be the coolest spot to be," said one camper. One comment was to use greenhouse garden shade cloth as an awning.

A protective canopy for a teardrop is an effective buffer for the heat. "At 15’ square, this one has great coverage."

Airflow strategies for tiny trailers were the most frequent mentions.

• "Our Camp Inn teardrop has two big doors with screens, and a powerful roof fan."
• "We use a fan and just open the windows."
• "Awnings; window and door screens - we also have a screen tent which allows us to leave one TD door completely open; dehumidifier (Eva Dry rechargeable); fans - one ceiling fan (12v) and another one (small computer fan) in one of our two air vents it blows out to help move the air through the teardrop."

"We camped in the desert last fall with unseasonably warm days. Our warmest day in the TD was 105."

Equipment
Most tiny trailers have built-in fans, but having additional fans was also a hot (pun intended) suggestion. These extra fans included box fans for outside when the air is still, personal hand fans, and inside fans to augment the ceiling fan in the trailer. Regarding outside fans: "We had lots of time where the air outside was still. Luckily we took a HV fan with us. It helped quite a bit just keeping air circulating when we were sitting outside or preparing meals." Fans seem to be a real way to combat the heat. "Last summer we were camping in Canada on Canada Day and our indoor/outdoor thermometer said it was 108 degrees outside. We used our fox wing and sunseeker awnings along with our ceiling battery operated fan for the overnights. We were surprised how good this worked; we were able to sleep there without heading to town and a hotel like we thought we might have to do."

Two other comments addressed equipment. One was how to use the cooling effect of water in conjunction with fans. "We don't have AC in our teardrop or our home. We use a lot of fans. On hot nights, we bring a wet washcloth and a bowl of water to bed. Wet yourself and the evaporation will cool you. This even works on humid Chicago nights. This week, we bought battery-powered mist fans for each of us. They seem to work well. We'll take them on our camping trip in two weeks." The second comment was about keeping pets cool. "If you are taking pets, be sure to get them a cooling mat. Fabulous product."

Air Conditioning
Well, we've finally arrived at the obvious solution to excessive heat (unless you're boondocking)--air conditioning! Most people granted its utility. "I view A/C as 100% necessary when camping in some areas of the country in the summer," says one woman who does not have AC and who lives in a cooler part of the country, although there are the naysayers: "I believe that, if you use AC at all, the heat feels worse."

"I grew up in Phoenix before there was a/c. Swamp coolers. But we spent nearly every day outdoors in summer vacation. We’d swim in the canals if it got really hot. I remember my dad got an a/c unit for the ‘56 Ford Station Wagon. It hung on the front passenger’s window. It was a swamp cooler, too." 

Air conditioning can be an addition to summer camping, even if it is only used during the hot afternoon or for sleeping. "We have an AC unit in our camper that was great for at night. During the day we spend 99% of the time outdoors with our dogs." My favorite AC-related comment was the following: "I tented for five months in SC. The heat was awful. If you have ac, you are blessed." My response was, "I have it, and I intend to use it." One useful comment was to be sure to clean the AC's filter regularly. One man rinses his filter once a week during the camping season.

To summarize online tiny trailer group advice, we should "embrace the heat," as one camper said, and structure our routine and environment so that our bodies aren't over-taxed and are given a chance to become accustomed to the heat. If we need to, we should utilize awnings, fans, and air conditioners to increase our comfort level, and we should always remember that while "I can take it" is usually tolerable, heat stroke or exhaustion isn't. We need to take the weather into account when we camp--and that includes the heat.

Can I (and did I) take the heat?

A pretty strong case could be made that I didn't even try to overcome the "widespread, dangerous, and oppressive heat." Instead, with the Green Goddess still in the driveway (in full sunlight), I turned on the air conditioner as an experiment to see how it worked in extreme, humid summer heat.

Day 1 Driveway Experiment

My finding? The temperature was 92 degrees, the humidity 60%, and the "feels like" adjusted heat index was 104 degrees. I had the unit set for 75 degrees, automatic mode, automatic fan speed, and the energy saver mode off. I have installed a air flow deflector to move the cool air upward (and not under the bed). A 9-inch additional portable fan was added to facilitate air flow. I also had my small dehumidifier running because there was substantial rainfall (and therefore humidity) from a passing thunderstorm. Entering the trailer, the temperature was certainly manageable. The unit was running at high fan, and the temperature was higher than 75 because when I went back into my house (thermostat set at 76), the house was cooler than the trailer. Below was the trailer's basic cooling equipment.

• Comfort Aire air conditioner (RTTC installed), 5,000 BTU (no link)
• Air Wing air conditioner deflector 
• 9" portable table fan (Walmart)
• Pro Breeze electric mini dehumidifier

The only negative aspect of the first day was that with the heat penetrating the trailer, the off-gassing increased, and there is a noticeable chemical smell from the building materials--whether from plywood glues, adhesives, the gray vinyl wall covering, varnishes, and/or something else is not clear.

Day 2 Driveway Experiment

My set-up today will be the same as yesterday except I will play with the ceiling vent fan and the side windows to determine if I can exchange air in the trailer, vent the off-gassing, and still maintain a temperature that is at least minimally comfortable.

At 4:30 in the afternoon, I had to recognize the limitations of my tiny trailer. The high today was 94 degrees, humidity 61%, and the heat index 113 degrees. I adjusted several times the side windows, the ceiling vent and fan, played with the AC controls for cooler settings, and the conclusion is that at with the  current temperature with the trailer in full sun--it's not possible to maintain a marginally cool temperature and eliminate off-gassing for this trailer.

I think that with shade the trailer would have a fighting chance because the roof and sides wouldn't be roasting with the direct sun contact. This would lessen the off-gassing and lessen the burden on the air conditioner.

 Tomorrow it is forecast to be three degrees hotter at the campground than here at home. Therefore, I am keeping to our plan of not leaving until Sunday when the heat passes. My wife will not camp with me this trip; I'll be on recon for future trips.

It's been an odd one. We've had this heat wave, our daughter and grandson are sick with a cold, we haven't been able to verify cellphone signal strength at the campground, a Fed Ex package is arriving early and needs to be signed for, and the big Iowa bicycle rally, RAGBRAI, is passing through town Thursday (the day I had planned to drive home) with 12,000 bicyclists. We've decided to loosen up and be flexible. I'll come home early, and we will head to town and enjoy the spectacle.

At the Campground

Arriving at the campground today, the host checked me in and noticed that I was arriving two days late. "You're not the only one who didn't make the weekend," she commented. The high today will be 82 degrees, the low 66. Humidity is 72%, but this trip I also am running the Pro Breeze mini dehumidifier. The AC is on, the ceiling fan closed but running on low, I ran the portable fan during the afternoon, and one side window is cracked an inch. The temperature is comfortable, and there is no discernable chemical smell from off-gassing. The trailer has partial shade from trees.

So there it is, folks. I believe we could have camped here at Lacey-Keosauqua State Park in higher temperatures, but it's not clear yet where that cut-off point is when the heat is so great that it just ain't worth it. The trailer is about a year and a half old, so who knows? Maybe the off-gassing will continue to be less noticable, even in the heat, over time.

Probably most reading this have noticed that much of the advice provided is pretty much common sense. I have no problem with that. My mom always said, "Wear a hat in the sun and a coat in the cold." Taking into account all the ways to deal with excessive heat, we still have to consider our individual tolerances and the capabilities of our camping rigs when we make our decisions. Be safe and be cool, folks. Now I can enjoy my three nights camping. Stay tuned for the article and photos of this trip.

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Off to the Maritimes: Mary Larson and Her Tiny Trailer Grand Adventure

Grand Falls Gorge, New Brunswick, Canada. (Falls and Gorge Campground)

Bears in the Wild

The best beginning for this adventure is the end, when tiny trailer traveler Mary Larson wrote, "I was thinking about the stats from this trip, and it got pretty fun to come up with one very long (but I’m pretty sure not a run-on) sentence that summarizes it all.

Traveling 5,511 miles over
18 days with
1 dog and
1 cat through
2 countries (which included visits to
10 US states and
6 Canadian provinces), and spending the night at
1 amazing boondocking site,
1 Harvest Host site,
1 community park campground,
1 KOA, and not sleeping well in
1 ferry reclining chair, but sleeping a whole lot better in
2 WalMart parking lots, including a combined total of
10 nights at
5 wonderful mom and pop campgrounds, plus taking
3 ferries and seeing, among other things,
50+ icebergs
10+ moose and
2 lynx, while buying
4 new tires and
far more tankfuls of fuel than I care to think about, all while making
countless memories has added up to
1 epic adventure.

Yes, that ending sentence is the perfect lead for this travelogue of her epic, school-is-out trip from Virginia to the Maritime Provinces in Canada.

Chewy gets his first look at Canada.

Of all the possible trips Mary could take, why did she choose the Maritimes? "In all honesty, I’m a transplant to Central Virginia from the Upper Midwest, and I hate the beastly hot summers here. I always either head to the Blue Ridge or I head north. I’ve been to Ontario, Quebec, and Nova Scotia (one of my favorite places on the planet) but had never done it in my camper." The big draw for this particular trip was to head to Newfoundland to see icebergs. "Everything else was just a wonderful part of a wonderful journey."

Mary states she is "a bit of a nerd by nature, so I’m quite a researcher when it comes to planning trips. I start researching new areas months in advance." In the case of this Maritimes trip, she started researching and planning more than six months before leaving. "I am an introvert, I hate crowds, and I always prefer to take those roads less traveled. The Grizzly [her tiny trailer] is  perfect for all of these things."

Segment One: Days 1-4

Three "pretty hard driving days" characterized the beginning of Mary's trip as she traveled from Virginia to Grand Falls, New Brunswick, Canada, with "not much time to stop and take photos." Places traveled through were ones familiar from the past, so she was "okay that I didn't stop to see and do things." Instead, Mary "just stuck to I-81 and the Trans Canada Highway to try to get there faster."

"But . . . I woke up to a bright and beautiful morning. I spent the night at a Harvest Hosts site--Rohrbach's Farm Market, Bakery and Barn Loft. It was a wonderful place to spend a quick overnight. My parking companions that night were a big rig RV and a Scamp, but they both left in the morning before I could snap a photo of the three of us looking like a misfit trio together."

Chewy (in carry bag) and Huck. "This is Chewy's first hiking adventure and my first attempt to hike with the two of them."

The first camping stop for Mary--and her dog and cat--was at Grand Falls, which she felt was "worth every bit of those three days of driving. What a beautiful place!"

Segment Two: Days 5-7

A day of rest at Grand Falls segued into another marathon drive of ten hours through Nova Scotia to Sydney, in order to "catch the ferry across to Newfoundland--the main destination of this year's trip."

"Obviously, all we did was drive today. Zoomed through NS and didn't have time to snap a pic until we were crossing into Cape Breton. I plan to take this part of the trip a bit more slowly on the way home."

One would expect to lose some sleep and be fatigued from a long day, especially a ten-hour day to make the ferry to Newfoundland, but then the ferry crossing would be restful and a time for sleep, right? Wrong! "The seats were designed for taller people than me, and I just couldn't get it quite right. It turns out I'm not the only one--the lady here at the campground is short, and she said the same thing. She decided that men designed them and forgot about short women--I think she's right!"

"Our ship awaits. There were two loading ramps--the upper one which you can see and the lower one which you can see a bus entering at the far right side. The ferry was very nice. We set sail from Sydney, NS, at 11:45 P.M. and arrived in Port aux Basques, NL, at 7:15 A.M. I didn't sleep well, but the good news is that I didn't get seasick. That was probably my biggest fear about this entire trip. And . . . it was so rough when we got into Newfoundland that one of the ladies who worked at the terminal said she was surprised we even crossed. Now they tell me . . . LOL."

"Here is our ship the next morning . . . waiting to head back to Nova Scotia."

Mary finally got in a bit of traveling after catching up on sleep, and a full day of exploring the southwest coast of Newfoundland the next day.

"I ate my first real Newfoundland local meal today at lunch--cod au gratin--and it was delicious. I passed on the fried cod tongues today, but I will likely give them a try before I head home. Tomorrow we head north again to a place called Cow Head, which is in Gros Morne National Park and about halfway up the western shore of Newfoundland. We won't be up to 'iceberg country' until later in the week, but I'm sure we will see lots of beautiful things along the way. I haven't seen any moose on Newfoundland yet--only the ones in New Brunswick so far--which is a good thing. As the locals say--best that they stay in the woods and not jumping out in front of your car."

"My delicious lunch from the Seashore Restaurant in Fox Roost today . . . Cod au Gratin. It was delicious. Cod is the main fish here, and I look forward to eating it in all sorts of ways while I am here. I may even try fried cod tongues--just wondering how many codfish tongues it takes to make a meal, though. I'll keep you posted."

"This is the view from very close to the campground. Mountains shrouded in clouds and still lots of spots with snow. There are some glaciers in these mountains, but they are not accessible by car."

"On Sunday morning, I headed out as far as I could go along the south coast of Newfoundland. It was very foggy, as the coast tends to be. This is the little fishing village of Rose Blanche, and it is, literally, at the end of the road. In fact, my GPS didn't even register the road I was traveling on."

"I couldn't get out to the Granite Lighthouse, as a lot of the attractions are not yet open in June, as the schools tend to get out at the end of June, and that's when they get their touristy crowds. But . . . I could look at some pretty seashore in the fog."

"The sign at this little spot said Little Cove, though it wasn't on the map."

"Back to my campsite--blue skies and no fog. The mountains started to clear a bit later in the day."
Rustic Trails Teardrop Campers, Grizzly model (Grand Codroy RV-Tent Camping Park)

"The sun starting to set . . . it was getting windy and cool once the sun started going down. But . . . blue skies and sunshine . . . at 9:30 at night. One of the beauties of being at the higher latitudes this time of year. A wonderful way to end a beautiful day."

Segment 3: Days 8-9

On June 19, Mary, Chewy, and Huck headed out for the final leg of their Maritimes adventure before turning south and heading home. Leaving the southwest coast of Newfoundland, Mary had no idea what to expect and was surprised at how the area looked, saying, "It actually reminded me a bit of Montana and the US West as we got closer and closer to our destination for the next two days."

"Our first glimpse of Gros Morne NP."

"I don't know about y'all, but I had never heard of Gros Morne National Park until I started planning this trip. It happened to be on the way to our destination at the tip of the Northern Peninsula, so I figured we would explore it a bit to see what it had to offer, but I really hadn't done my research at all."

"We headed out to the Tablelands to hike and passed through the community of Woody Cove on the shore of one of the fjords."

Chewy, the "king of the camper," got to stay home as Mary and Huck took off. "He and Huck needed a break from one another. It was a good decision for all," Mary said. The day didn't look too promising at first, "but as we got to the higher elevations in the park, the sky started to clear and the views were breathtaking."

"Gros Morne is one of the most beautiful places I have ever visited in my life. It is absolutely breathtaking--from the fjords to the Tablelands to the moose and the lynx and everything in between. I fell in love with this place in an instant. All of this natural beauty and best of all . . . no crowds."

The Tablelands reminded Mary of hiking in Arizona--but without the snakes. The terrain looked like it has been excavated in many places, but it was actually the earth's mantle exposed with nothing but barren red rock.

Arriving at Sea Breeze B&B and RV Park, Cow Head, Gros Morne National Park, Newfoundland, Mary and her pals started to get settled in for the night. She had been ready to take in the beauty of her surroundings but found herself additionally surprised by an unexpected and happy occurrence--she met some fellow teardroppers.

The next day, they packed up and headed north up the Viking Trail (Hwy 430 up to the northern tip) to Quirpon--smack dab in the middle of Iceberg Alley, where they spent the next three days before heading south to catch the ferry and start their trip home.

L’Anse aux Meadows on Quirpon Island where Mary stayed.

Segment 4: Destination--Icebergs, Days 10-11

On the tenth and eleventh days of her trip (and a half of day twelve), Mary traveled to the northern tip of Newfoundland's Northern Peninsula, the St. Anthony and L'anse aux Meadows area of Quirpon Island in search of icebergs. "This was the main thing that I wanted to see on this trip. As I rolled over 2,500 miles on Day 10, heading north from Cow Head and Gros Morne (and still had not yet hit the main event), I was saying to myself, "This had better be worth it."

"It was," Mary says. "Absolutely, positively worth every mile, every pothole, every liter of fuel, and every moment of playing referee to two equally stubborn pets living together in a very small space for long days in the car and tight quarters in the camper. I’ve always enjoyed my travels over the years, but this one is right up there at the top alongside the trip to Scotland several years ago."

"This iceberg looked like a schooner sailing into the Harbor, and it took my breath away every single time I saw it. The size and the majesty of this particular iceberg were incredible. I’m sure the top of it was well over 50 feet high. When you were driving down the road that paralleled it, you could see the top peeking over the tops of the high bluffs, and they’re pretty tall."

The locals told Mary that the first two days that she was there were the best weather days they had had so far in the season. Day 3 of this time brought more typical weather. In her travels, Mary discovered that "even the ‘busy’ places are not even remotely crowded compared to what we’re used to at home, and it is super easy for a hermit like me to spend hours without encountering another human if that’s what you enjoy."

Mary's good camera stopped working so she drafted her cellphone "to try to convey the grandeur and the scale of icebergs," realizing her cell camera was "barely a mediocre second," to record her last "days at the tippy top of Newfoundland."

Besides hunting icebergs, Mary also learned a bit about (aboot?) the life of the residents of Newfoundland. It's a life closer to earth and bare bones rock, one that still uses sun to dry clothes, a life that tills soil and plants gardens, one that uses wood-burning stoves to keep warm on cold winter nights.

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"This is in the town of Saint Carol. One of the things that I noticed very quickly when I got out into the smaller settlements was the number of what remind me of Amish clotheslines. I only took this one picture because she had the prettiest pink and purple things out there, but that day there were lots and lots of clothes and sheets and you name it flapping in the breeze."

"Another thing that was very interesting to me where the roadside gardens. As you look at some of the other photos you can see there’s nothing but rock in so many of these places, and there’s just no place for someone to have a garden at home. Apparently, when they built the highways, they brought in good soil and the best soil is along the side of the roads. So . . . there are lots of these little roadside gardens. This one had my favorite scarecrow. They are actually to keep the moose and not the birds away."

"The further north I got, the more common these roadside stacks of wood would be. They were as common as the gardens were. These are individual people's firewood that they’re stacking in preparation for the winter. Again, because of the rocky and uneven terrain, as well as the fact that they tend to have very small yards but need lots and lots of wood to heat all winter long, they don’t store it at home. Everyone knows who the woodpiles belong to, and nobody bothers anyone else’s."

At Viking RV Park

Mary's adventures extended even to her campground arrival. "I always meet the most fun and interesting people when I travel . . . and this trip has been no exception. Tonight is my first night at a campground at the northern tip of Newfoundland. When I pulled into the park, I saw one side of this teardrop and was blown away. I decided to ask the folks if they would let me take a photo and we got to talking . . . turns out, they have been full timing in their teardrop for the past four years. In that period of time, they have hit the 49 US states that can be driven to (meaning no Hawaii) and, as of this week, every single Canadian province. Newfoundland was the last one on their list. In the morning, they are headed home and closing out one heckuva adventure."

"So here comes the 'there are no coincidences' part," Mary adds. "What are the odds that of all the campgrounds in all of North America I would not only meet these people on the very last day of their trip . . . but would also learn that the very first sticker that they put on their teardrop . . . was from a camping trip to Virginia? Chincoteague was the start of their adventure. They also have a 'Virginia is for Lovers' sticker and an Assateague one from the same trip. And now . . . after four years on the road . . . they are going home. Anyway . . . I just thought that this little encounter was very, very cool. Hope you do, too!"

Segment 5: The Trip Home, Days 12-18

Half a day was spent sight-seeing on Day 12, but Mary finally opted to begin heading home because the weather was so bad, eliminating a long, 400-mile single-day drive to catch the ferry. The roads were awful in the rain, and Mary and her teardrop rig were escorted down the road almost exclusively by big trucks and RVs, most locals keeping close to home. "The first day, I got as far as Gros Morne National Park. The second day, still in the driving rain, I made it down to the campground where I stayed when I had first arrived on the island."

As it turned out, there was no rush because the ferry had not run for two days due to the winds. The 11:45 P.M. ferry was finally scheduled to run again, but Mary asked to be rebooked for the next morning, mostly because the sea looked rough, and she didn’t feel like a long ferry ride with motion sickness. "Plus, there were probably folks who were booked on the other three canceled crossings who thought they would be home by now and who needed to get back to work."

Arches Provincial Park

When Mary stopped at Arches Provincial Park, having missed it on the way up, she met two women, quite a bit older than Mary, who had just come across on the Trans Labrador Highway. Mary had looked into it when planning her trip, but because of the condition of the road and the potential for damage to her car and trailer, it didn’t seem prudent.

"These two were like the devil and the angel on your shoulder. The more sensible one was telling me about all the damage that they had experienced on their brand new RV and kayak trailer (there was a lot of damage), as well as the very steep and scary 17% grades, the over 200 km of gravel road and big potholes in Labrador, and just all of the general pitfalls. She wasn’t being negative. She was just being realistic. Her partner was the ‘Mary’ of the two of them--the eternal optimist. She would just wave her hands when the other one was telling me about the things to worry about, as if to say, ‘Don’t let her discourage you . . . you need to do this trip!’ She had pulled out the maps and was showing me the route and telling me that it wasn’t that bad and to ‘just do it . . . you only live once!’ If I didn’t have a nearly brand new trailer and if I had a car with greater ground clearance than my Outback, it would have been tempting. But . . . I had done a lot of reading about the TLH when planning this trip, and the recommendation is that you travel with two spare tires, an air compressor, a satellite phone, and the expectation that your vehicle will be damaged. I’d like to go it someday, but not this year."

"Now you can see why they can’t grow gardens at home!"

"Norris Point in Gros Morne NP--loving all of the waterfalls after the rain."

As luck would have it, when Mary asked to change her ferry departure time, the agents "were thrilled to have someone who didn’t want to cram under the same ferry as the rest of the people from the previous four sailings, and they actually allowed me to make my change with no change fee." The campers and cars were loaded below while the big trucks were loaded a deck or so above where Mary was located.

As Mary loaded, she enjoyed seeing a fellow teardrop traveling couple, the husband having built the teardrop.  "The wife was adorable and told me that she would show me the inside, but it was packed full of things. I told her that I certainly understood because mine was the same way."

"This darling camper was in line right behind me. It is one of the tiniest campers I have ever seen."

Mary reserved a sleeping berth because she knew she wanted to get a good rest while sailing, and she did indeed sleep through most of the "pretty smooth" crossing. "I was very pleased with the cabins. For $45 extra, it was money well spent."

Mary disembarked around 6:30 P.M., and having lots of energy and about three hours of daylight left, she headed over to the Gaelic College (Colaisde na Gàidhlig) in St. Ann’s, on the Cabot Trail. The college is a non-profit that is dedicated to preserving and promoting the culture of the Scottish Highlanders who settled on Cape Breton. To her surprise the gift shop was open, so she was able to buy something she really wanted, a bodhrán, a type of Gaelic drum.

Her trip to Cape Breton could have been complete at that point, but Mary still needed to find a place to stay the night. "It was only about 7:30, so I had a few good hours of daylight left. (I didn’t have reservations for the remaining nights of my trip, so I was playing it by ear on the way home. I actually prefer to travel this way and have had some of my best trips that way.) I hadn’t planned to do it, but since I was already on Cabot Trail, I decided to check it out. As I was getting close to the top of the Cabot Trail, I remembered a place called Meat Cove, which is at the tippy top of Cape Breton that was supposed to have a campground with great views. The GPS said that I could make it there before 10 P.M., so I decided that I would camp there for the night. Thirty minutes and some winding gravel roads later, I still wasn’t there, but came to a pull off where an RV was pulled over for the night and there was room for me, too. The sun had set, but there was still a bit of a glow in the sky. It was time to call it a night.

"This is one more spot where I ventured off the beaten path." Roadside stop for the night, north and beyond the Cabot Trail.

Waking up to a beautiful dawn (the campsite on a north point had both beautiful sunrise and sunsets), Mary headed off to the ferry to PEI, arriving at the ferry a little before noon. After driving through three provinces in fourteen hours (and a ferry ride), the day ended at a campsite in New Brunswick within sight of the Confederation Bridge. "It was one of the most beautiful days we have had on the entire trip."

Sunrise on a point near Meat Cove

"As it turns out, my bluff top campsite was way better than the Meat Cove Campground."

Cabot Trail view

Cabot Trail view

"An iconic PEI lighthouse. My camper is becoming the Forrest Gump [of tiny trailers] and photobombing all sorts of places."

Celebrating 4,000 miles for this trip, Mary spent the night in New Brunswick at a campground near the Confederation Bridge, which connects PEI with NB. (Silver Sands Family Campground)

As the trip home continued, the weather worsened, and the photos were few and far between. It was "too crummy most of the seventeenth day to even stop to take a photo." The final days home ended up being lots of miles, a few photos, and new tires as the intrepid travelers started to close in on the last thousand miles of the journey.

WalMart overnighter.

"I booked it to Maine in the pouring rain," Mary said, "and it was during that time that I realized just how very bad my tires were. I decided that I would camp at Walmart that night and get new tires in the morning. I have camped at many a Walmart in my travels, and there will typically be anywhere from zero to six or eight campers. I think eight were the most campers that I had seen at a Walmart overnight before this particular night."

When Mary pulled into the parking lot, there were five other campers. As the night progressed, that number increased. There were camping units of every shape and size, converted school buses, camper vans, people in the back of pickup trucks with tents, big rig RVs, pop up campers, pickup truck slide-in campers. "You name it. The early birds got the good spots." By morning, Mary counted more than twenty different camping units. "I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s a new Walmart record for me. There were young people, old people, single people, families, couples, dogs. And even my cat."

Enjoying the luxury of her own"private waiting room," Mary refereed her two traveling companions rivalry. "While the rest of the people waiting for their tire service sat in the little waiting room with the old magazines and the loud TV, we hung out in the camper. This is how we wait for tires to be put on the car. Please note the pillow standing on end by the window.  I had to put that up between them so they didn’t look at each other and harass one another. It’s been like traveling with two little kids who want to poke and bother each other the entire trip. They tolerate one another at home, but cooped up in small spaces brings out less than the best in shared-space behaviors. The pillow did help because they couldn’t stare at one another. I’ve used these pillows quite frequently for that purpose on this trip."

"New tires and free and easy down the road we go," was Mary's travel song. Finally, after a last day of fifteen and a half hours of driving and over seven hundred miles, at 1:33 A.M.--arrival! And thus ends Mary Larson's excellent adventure on roads less traveled, having planned her destinations away from the tourist traps. "I spent my days finding my way to the smallest little outposts on the island, knowing full well that the same icebergs that folks were flocking to see, elbow to elbow with the tour bus crowds, could be seen from the bluffs overlooking the same waters and that my dog, Huck, and I would have these locations all to ourselves."

Mary ends by saying that a large part of any trip is research and planning, "but there is also always a lot of hitting the backroads once I get to my waypoints and destinations just to see what I can find or see or do." On this trip, Mary hit that sweet spot between over-planning and "leaping before you look." Her narrative and photos lead to a single, irrefutable conclusion: Planning on taking a trip? Wondering how to do it? Book on down the road like Mary, Huck, and Chewy--and you'll do just fine.

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