First heat, now humidity - welcome to the Midwest

   ASHLAND, Nebraska - After days of high-altitude camping in Colorado, Admiral Sylvia Fox and I dropped down to North Platte, Nebraska last night, then quickly scurried this morning for three hours to arrive at Eugene T. Mahoney State Park near Omaha.

The Red Writer at Eugene T. Mahoney State Park

     The heat has been about the same as the mountains.
     Hot, hot, and hotter, sprinkled with momentary lapses of slightly cooler air, followed by blast-furnaces doses of more temperature spikes.
     But when we got out of the Toyota Tundra at North Platte, we had something else to contend with: Humidity.
     It was like walking into a sauna - a really hot one.
     Today we are set up in a nice shady spot at this state park and plan a three-day stay. Or longer. The air conditioner is doing yeoman service. And unlike last night in North Platte, there is a nice breeze - even if warm.
     I visited this state park two years ago when I was driving my little red Nissan truck from NY to California.
     It's just as fabulous as I remember it. Hiking trails, small lakes, the Platte River, a fabulous aerospace museum within walking distance and a very neat town just four miles away
     Now if I could just breathe a little easier. Humidity and I have never been close friends.
     On our way into the lodge an hour ago (where this is being written), we got a close up look at the new Airstream trailer design. Several people who have come to take a peek at our T@B trailer have mentioned they were debating between getting a new Airstream like this and a T@B.
     It's very space-age but I think I'll stick with The Red Writer.

Not your father's Airstream trailer

A soft landing in Fallon, NV - except for the beds

   FALLON, Nevada - The drive piloting The Red Writer from Sacramento was remarkable. You see a so much more going 60 mph - or slower. My new driving glasses might be part of the reason, too.
     The slo-mo trek also yielded 13.5 mpg on the leg from Sacramento to Applegate (CA) and 14.5 from there to Fallon. And gas prices? $3.19 in Nevada.
     After one quite long-in-the-tooth RV park turned us away because they only rent by the month, we soldiered on another 20 miles where we found a nice park with cable TV, ice cold Corona beer and clean rest rooms and showers.

Home sweet home in Fallon...

     We got set up quickly, a good thing because a wind storm roared through at cocktail hour, spreading dust and cottonwood debris in every direction. But the cable TV gave us a chance to watch the Golden State Warrior's win.
     It was all going along swimmingly, as the British sometimes say, until we crawled into the bed to sleep.
     Our two previous overnights had prepared us for less-than-first-class comfort while sleeping. But most likely our sore backs this morning were more sore when we looked ahead to three weeks of overnights on thin inflatable mattresses.
     At our next stop - possibly Ely, Nevada - my knife is already sharpened to cut up some foam.
     Adm. Fox probably will no doubt have a lot more to say on the lumpy-bed topic on her travelblog about the trip: Never Too Old...
     Check it out...

No lack of things to buy...

Finally out of space dock and on our way East

   SACRAMENTO, Calif. - The expression "a journey of 1,000 miles begins with one step" was on my mind Monday when Adm. Fox and I rolled out of Point Richmond at 2:43 p.m. and hit Interstate 80 for points east.
     From the dateline, you'll notice the point where we landed was Sacramento where we are staying  at the home of Pam DiTomasso and Steve Lovotti, good friends for decades.
     There was a moment Monday when we considered simply waiting one more day before catapulting off on this trip. But we persisted.

The Red Writer at rest in from of Pam and Steve's house in Sacramento

     Ultimately, we were really glad we did. Daughter Anne Allen, granddaughters Sami and Kami Allen, and amigos Jen and Scott Noble all came to the house for a visit and to celebrate our launch. Great fun all around.
     
     The early stages of voyages like this always have their pitfalls.
     First, I neglected to sufficiently crank up the jack stand on the front of The Red Writer trailer. I was reminded of my error by a steep dip in the driveway right in front of our condo accompanied by a horrible scraping sound of metal-on-concrete.

One helluva speed bump stole the cap

     Second, in taking some familiar streets in the Fabulous 40s in Sacramento, I hit two speed bumps at a velocity waaaaaay beyond what's reasonable for a full-size Tundra pickup dragging a 15-foot trailer.
     When The Red Writer returned to Earth  from a big bounce, the plastic cap on the outside of the black water drain came off. The only evidence it ever existed is the safety cord hanging sadly.
     A Camping World store is about 18 miles from here and no doubt has a shelf full of replacements. I expect to buy a couple of spares in case I miss seeing the speed bump signs again.
     Those speed bumps also wreaked havoc on the interior of the trailer, sending the neatly folded bedding and cushions into such a melange it looked like someone had had a pillow fight.
     After Monday's pell-mell rush to get out of Point Richmond, the Admiral and I decided we will take today to regroup, repack, relax and rewind. I haven't been swimming in the Lovotti pool in years. We will be able to have a nice dinner with Pam and Steve. And a new blog by Sylvia (under construction at the moment) will be made ready for prime time.

Repacking the back of the Tundra is high on the priority list

     Moab and the Bears Ears National Monument lie ahead on the travel agenda along with stops in Santa Fe and ultimately, of course, Seneca Lake.