Forever A Hillbilly: A Hospital Stay in Hollywood

Forever A Hillbilly: A Hospital Stay in Hollywood: Note: Much of the next few posts have been posted recently. (Florida, 6/20/16) and The Big Trees, (6/15/16)  I skip over here to avoid repe...

A Hospital Stay in Hollywood

Note: Much of the next few posts have been posted recently. (Florida, 6/20/16) and The Big Trees, (6/15/16)  I skip over here to avoid repeating myself so quickly.

    Crossing into California, Gas jumped up 12 cents a gallon, and we needed a fill up in both vehicles. Wouldn't you just know it?

     Behind San Diego, the desert is at sea level. It rises 10,000 feet very quickly. I started noticing barrels of water on regular pull offs, and I knew we were in trouble. We had to stop, cool the motor off, and add more water, several times before we reached the top. That had never been a problem before. I knew we had a lot more Rocky Mountain crossings ahead, and I shelled out several bucks to get a raised, topographical map, so I would know what was ahead. I could then pull the car off and drive it up separately on those long pulls. Turned out, all the other high Rocky Mountain crossings were cold, and we didn't need it. San Diego was a neat place, especially the Zoo. They had four pandas, which were rare at zoos, and Barbara was in love with them. There was a long line by their cage, and the pandas were treated like royalty. Everyone had to be really quiet, enforced by four security guards. She went through that line four times. San Diego also had a very large naval presence, along with ships, and that was interesting.

     We found our friends Patty and Dwight's house at Temecula, and we parked our rig right out front. They just never fully understood why we slept in our RV instead of coming in their house, But it was our home, now. And, Barbara builds a great bed. It sometimes gets so tall, before she gets it right, that she has to have a step stool to get in it.

      They showed us around Southern California royally for a couple of days, The J. Paul Getty Museum, and lots of other wonders. The Cafe we ate in specialized in being crass and rude. A large sign, right up front, said, “Eat and get out.” The waitresses had a really big chaw of bubblegum, and, between bubbles, greeted us with, “Yeah, whatta' ya' want?”   

     I drove our 53 foot road train right through LA. After that, I knew no big city driving could scare me again. Later, Europe was a totally different story.

     We parked just north of LA near Hollywood, in Van Nuys.  Barbara was not doing well. Her abdomen hurt. It got worse. She said she felt like she was full of gas, so I tried pushing on her belly to help get it out. Not the smartest thing I've ever done. She got even worse. Finally, I walked across the park to a pay phone and called the police, asked where the nearest hospital was. He said he didn't know. It depended on where I was.. I had not the foggiest, and I had to go back and ask Barbara. I didn't even know the name of the park. Kinda illustrates yet once again, just who the brains of this outfit is. Even when she's impaired. After waiting half the night (literally) in the emergence room, the diagnosis was gall bladder problems, and it had to come out. Right now. And it's infected. I sure hated to see Barbara being wheeled down the hall, waving and looking back at me, all the way to the OR. The surgery went well, but her infected condition required several days in the hospital. The Kids were ready to load up and head west, but I told  them it was too far, and there was nothing they could do for her here. Being away from family in a crisis is just part of being a traveler, and we both accepted that. When I went to check Barbara out of the hospital, I knew our insurance was handling it. But they said they preferred to get $1000 down in cases like this, being travelers and all. Okay, that sounded reasonable. A long way and weeks down the line, they sent us another copy of the bill. The $1000 had just disappeared. We had befriended the hospital's Patient Advocate lady, who was also an RV'er, and we called her. She said she would take care of it. A few days later we got a check for that $1000. When insurance is involved, never pay up front. Let it go through the insurance process. Early payment always gets confused, and the confusion is always in favor of the hospital.

     After she recouped for a few days in our RV, she wanted out of it. So we took a few smaller trips, seeing the area. That old strategy of seeing a large city on Sunday just didn't pan out in LA. The traffic was as bad at daylight Sunday morning as any other time.

     After ten days, she felt like she could travel, so we headed for Arkansas in the car to let her regain her strength before continuing on with our travels. In moving the RV to storage, that thing about the back end sticking out far right on a left turn finally got me. I left a long deep scratch in someone's car. I never talked to the owner, but the Park Director and our Insurance fixed it while we were in Arkansas.

     I made the long drive home as easy on Barbara as possible, but it was still hard on her. Corey, the rising “Next man of the clan,” took us aside. “OK, now, you've had your trip. It's time to end it, now.” We thought otherwise. Barbara and I decided long ago, as long as one of us was capable of wiping both our bottoms, we are in charge of our life. Of course, if we live long enough, the time will come when we both are very appreciative that we have caring children.

     After two nice weeks with family, Barbara was pretty much her old self, just with different eating habits. No grease. We made the long trip back leisurely, seeing the sights. At Zion, I was amazed at the very tall cliffs. We saw a tiny figure, two thirds of the way to the top. Binoculars proved it was a climber, carrying his bed along. An overnight trip. In Death Valley, we saw a giant black cloud just rolling across the sands to us. A huge sandstorm. Back in Hollywood, we saw Paramount Studios. The emergency brake on our car just would not release upon leaving, and we had to be towed. Again. A big comedown, after just meeting Goldie Hawn, and seeing the other stars.

     Back home in our RV Park, we were awakened one morning by a young woman, knocking on our door. When I opened up, she said, “I'm Cindy.” She started to sidestep me, and come on in. I cut her off, saying, “I don't know you, Cindy.” She looked puzzled, then walked back to a man who was waiting for her across the street. They talked, he made a phone call, then she walked to the RV next door, knocked, and was let in with a smile. She stayed there about half an hour, then her and her Pimp walked off.

     We headed up the coast. We were on our way to the Hurst Castle, and being early, I stopped at Moonstone Beach. The trail down the cliff was so steep, and it was so windy, Barbara stayed in the car. The beach below was hidden from the parking area. I really got into this moonstone hunting, and stayed a good while. I found lots of pretty rocks, surely at least one was a moonstone. When I finally walked out to where I could see the top of the cliff, Barbara was waving her arms and shouting, but her words just floated off with the wind. Her face told me a lot, though, and I quickly climbed up. She was scared, thought I had just disappeared. I caught it pretty good over that. We may have been a few minutes late for our appointment at Hearst Castle, but we still caught the bus and headed up.

     Hearst Castle was built by William Randolph Hurst, the Newspaper Magnate. He went way over the top on everything. The grounds had many exotic animals roaming about, from all over the world. The swimming pool was lined with gold, and the castle itself was monstrous in size, and contained exotic furniture and paintings from all over the world. William Randolph Hurst was a man who could not be denied. In his travels, if he found something he wanted to put in his castle, the price offer just kept going up until he had his way. A big portion of the bus top blew off on the way back down. It can be windy in California.

     The Remington Mansion was huge. The Remington Arms Company financed it. Mrs. Remington, haunted by the ghosts of all the people killed by their product just kept building on it as long as she lived. Stairways to nowhere, doorways with no opening, On and on. As I was typing “Remington” the first time I wrote this story, one of those ghosts must have came after me, because I just hit a normal key, I thought, and the whole story just disappeared from the screen, never to live again. I'm not a fast writer, and that was two day's work for me. Believe, me, I am now typing this paragraph very gingerly, not wishing to anger anybody, or any thing.

     The Big Sur coastline was magnificent, and we even walked on Pebble Beach Golf Course. Years later, Corey and son-in-law Mickey paid in advance for a trip for us to Pebble Beach. A week before, Corey hit his drive a mile at a course in Florida, and as always, I felt I should swing as hard as I could to try to stay somewhat close to his. My back went out, bad, maybe my worst. But there was just no way around it. I had to play Pebble Beach. What else could I do? The course of a lifetime, the chance of a lifetime. I left a lot of pain lying about on Pebble Beach, and my scorecard overflowed. But I played it.

      Next stop, San Francisco. As with many cities on this trip, with time not being a limiting factor, we just jumped off into the city and quickly lost ourselves. Actually, one cannot truly get lost if you have no destination, as long as we eventually met back up with our RV. At lunch time, we stopped at Little Orphan Annie's. Turned out, once we were seated, we realized it was really “Little Orphan Andy's,” and we were the only straight people about. I was trying to decide whether to stay or not, and my legs were out in the aisle. The waiter walked up, looked at me, and said, “Are you STAYING?” I stammered out, “Just long enough to eat.”

     Once we crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, we stopped, debating about whether to take safe highway 101, inland a ways, or tackle highway 1, in the RV, along the cliffs. An old full time RV'er  told me once on Prince Edward Island, half a world away, that driving an RV on Highway 1 north of San Francisco was the ultimate test for driving an RV in the world. “If you can drive it, you can drive anywhere.” Well, that was too much of a challenge to pass up. After we started up the winding road toward the cliffs, we stopped at a station. I asked the operator, “Have you seen many people driving RV's past this point?” “Well, I have seen a few, but they almost always come back in a few minutes.”

     When we went on up, It got bad quick. I had to sling the car off in the ditch on a hairpin curve to avoid bikers coming down. Once out overlooking the ocean, the road was just a tiny shelf along a high cliff, and if one is brave enough to look ahead, it was the same for many miles. At least, I had the inside, going north. Barbara tells me that drive was beautiful, but I didn't see it. All I ever saw was ten white knuckles over the top of my steering wheel. After 50 miles, I was done in. We went inland to 101 and eventually parked it, driving out to see the good view in the car. I began to realize Barbara was right. The scenery WAS breathtaking.

Forever A Hillbilly: Kentucky Troubles

Forever A Hillbilly: Kentucky Troubles:       The RV would not start after a stop at Hawks Nest, the first of a string of automobile troubles. It had to be towed 40 miles to hav...

Kentucky Troubles

      The RV would not start after a stop at Hawks Nest, the first of a string of automobile troubles. It had to be towed 40 miles to have a new ignition switch put in. Thanks for the tow, Good Sam!

     Arriving at Beaver Dam, Kentucky, we were having battery problems. We spent the night. A large party seemed to be scheduled for tonight, so we went downtown. We were walking down the street, surrounded by hundreds of people. The music started to kick in. Every single person there, and I mean every one, stopped and started tapping a foot. Everybody except us. Now if that's not a bit weird. Then, the music really kicked in, and again, every single person, except us, just literally danced onto the street! Not together, really, just dancing. We looked around for the movie cameras. Surely we were on a movie set.

  

     When we got back to the RV park, a track with small race cars roared to life. Naturally, we had to go look. These were kids driving these cars. But they were very loud and very fast! I knew these kids didn't even have a driver's license yet.

     On down the road a ways the next day, what we thought was battery problems turned bad. Alternator problems. It was Saturday, and a new one was hard to find, but we did, and I was determined to do it myself. We pulled into a truck stop, and I got my tools out. I discovered a guy in the truck stop that used to be a mechanic, but now he was just working there at odd jobs. He started supervising me, and kept coming out at intervals to keep me on the right track, for a good part of the afternoon. He would not take pay, but we left some for him anyway, when we pulled out the next day. We have stayed in touch with him over the years. A good man.

      We traveled on, crossed the mighty Mississippi, and before we knew it, we were in Arkansas! Home. But still a long way from Arkadelphia, so we camped at Newport.  A lady came through the camp, inviting all the campers to a large dinner and party their church was throwing a mile down the road. We were the only ones that actually went, we never miss an opportunity to mix with the locals. They treated us like royals, we had a large meal, and lots of fun. We finally drug back to our RV, worn out. The emergency phone rang. My sister Jan's husband, Bill, had just died. We loaded up and headed out. We normally do not drive that RV at night. The headlights are dim. But we drove through the night, and arrived at Little Rock, parked our RV at Barbara's sister Frances' house, and drove to Fort Worth. I first met Bill Workman when I was a teenager. He was a weightlifter, an Air Force man, and had just retired a few years before. His retirement was cut short. Hard to believe he was gone.

     After a couple of weeks of visiting family, we realized we had new passengers now. Hundreds of ants had invaded the RV. We loaded up at Little Rock and headed east. We stopped at Selma,  Alabama, and learned more about the Civil Rights movement. At Montgomery, we visited  Frontier days. A mountainous mountain man took a shine to Barbara, and physically, I didn't really see much I could do about it. I did have a gun in the RV, but I held that as a last resort. Fortunately, I managed to steal her away when he was not looking, and we moved on to Georgia Quickly.

      At Andersonville, we spent some time at the Civil War POW Camp. That was a nightmare place. Not enough food, bad water, little cover from the elements. Actually, It was just a big field with a palisade wall around it, teen age guards all around, trained to shoot to kill if anyone got within 10 feet of the wall. A creek running through it was the only source of water, and It was quickly contaminated with human waste. Thousands from the north died there.

     Our next stop was one of our inexpensive-type stops. My nephew Stan and Missy Arrington's  driveway. Stan had always been an outdoor, woodsy type guy. He was now a forester, and a dutch oven cooking expert. They had a fenced back yard, except at the back, which was bordering a Bayou. They had a big, pretty white rabbit that had the run of the place. One day, Missy was at the kitchen window, and a large gator came up out of the Bayou and gobbled the pretty white rabbit up. They have two children, Mandy and Thomas. Mandy was always all about horses, growing up, and she is now about to get a Masters degree in horse knowledge. I'm just not sure what that degree would be called. When we woke up the next morning, at daylight, Thomas, a small boy then, walked by our RV and disappeared from our vision. When we came out of it, later, he was just sitting up in top of a tall tree, just looking. Thomas went on to achieve, in college, membership in that group of nearly naked, painted young men that you might see at Mississippi State football games. He now seems to have matured, however, because he's about to travel to the Philippines and spend a good bit of time traveling up remote rivers, seeking unreached people for Christ. I would say he's being promoted, how about you? Missy is a big wig at Mississippi State.

     We toured Savanna, with its Forest Gump bench, where he sat with his box of chocolates on Chippewa  Square. But we forgot to bring our chocolates.

     Our next stop was at Mark Twain State Park, well out into the Okefenokee Swamp. The swamp was formed when the Swanee River spread out over a wide area, 50 miles across. It is a wild area that man was unable to successfully cross until well up into the 1900's. I had been here before, on one of my Pork and Beans Trips. Barbara had not. I wanted to give Barbara a real taste of the swamp, but before heading out in a small boat, I gave her the gator lecture. I told her it was wintertime here, the gators were cold, and would not try to come in our boat. But, we may be very close to many. If you come close to one, and jump up and run, you will swamp the boat, then we'll be right down in amongst' um'. Stay still. A ranger told of getting a report of a boat being swamped, people in the water. When they got there, they were still hanging onto the boat, surrounded by 40 gators. Just looking. I called up several foxes to a photo session with my predator call. Then it was time to head on down the road.

Forever A Hillbilly: Strange Birthdays

Forever A Hillbilly: Strange Birthdays:      We're heading south. The big news today is, Barbara's 50! - Three times now, Barbara has split her birthday between two countr...

Strange Birthdays

     We're heading south. The big news today is, Barbara's 50! - Three times now, Barbara has split her birthday between two countries. And once, she woke up on ship on her birthday, crossed the International Dateline into the next day by taking a launch to Fanning Island, then came back to her birthday when she came back to the ship. Once, we totally lost the day before her birthday while flying to Australia. It just melted and fell into the sea as we slept.

     The second biggest, we're back in the good old USA! After months of french TV, no TV, Loonies, and Kilometers, things of the USA are good to be back to. Canada was a wonderful place to be. We'll miss it. We decided paint and flower stores must do well, from the look of their houses and yards.

     We picked up our mail at Elsworth. One letter. Pulling into Bar Harbor RV Park, the welcoming sign said, “Make noise, we evict you. No second chance.” We kept quiet.

     I left the emergency brake on again, burned it out. Well, maybe, there's just enough space for one more adjustment. It's cold. In the low 40's. 

     At Acadia National Park, there's lots of good views, when the fog allows. The wind will just blow you down. A car pulled in next to us at an overlook near the summit. Two young kids jumped out, just started running pell-mell down the mountain, disappearing into the fog. The mother went ballistic.  Though she didn't know, the mountain is a dome. No cliffs, that we saw. But who knows what surprises the fog holds? In that mother’s place, I most likely would have behaved the same way.

     It's Sunday morning. Lots of fantastic looking churches, but most are deserted. We decided to go to Bangor. “Paul Bunyan Days” seemed to be over, the town was deserted. Barbara found a gift shop, just had to see it. I leaned against the car and waited. A motorcycle cop drove by. Then, two or three runners. Must be some sort of small race. To make a long story short, by the time Barbara was shopped out, more than 1000 runners, walkers, and limpers came by  me.

     We went back to Ellsburg. Barbara had a mail package from Kinley. Kinley can really do a birthday package up right!

     Passing through Freeport,  we stopped at the giant LL Bean store. I asked what time they closed. The clerk said, “Do you see any locks on these doors?” Seems they had closed three times in their history. Fire, President Kennedy's death, and for the death of LL Bean.

     The highway rose slowly, then we passed through The Notch. It was very windy there, and we could see Mt. Washington, the home of world record winds. 230 MPH. Past The Notch, headed down, the mountain bloomed. It's hard to compete with Sugar Maples in the Fall.

     We asked a man at a store in Ammonoosuc, “Where can we find a moose?” He told us where to be at daylight, we were, and the moose was there too. Barbara was no longer mooseless!

     Heading west into Vermont, we began to see covered bridges. We decided to search for a maple syrup farm Barbara had heard about. After we drove forever, it seemed, on a dirt road, a farm ahead was promising. The sign said, “We're not it. Directions, $10.” We finally found it on our own, the $10 still in our pocket.  40 gallons of juice equals one gallon of syrup. There are four different qualities of syrup, depending upon how early in the season it is taken. Maple syrup can actually be made in Arkansas, but it is difficult to time when the sap starts to rise, with all the warm weather we have in February.

     September 28 – We start our longest move, through Massachusetts and Connecticut to the KOA in Plattskill, NY.  We found out upon arrival that our scheduled tour of New York City had been canceled, the driver of the bus had quit. After a day or so, it was now on. The driver and guide were both former New York City policemen. We visited the Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, and were shocked when we reached the top of the Empire State Building. Skyscrapers just stretched to the edge of our vision. Coming down, we flew through ten floors in seven seconds. To me, that's free fall. Then Times Square,  Rockefeller Center, NBC – and then headed for home. They gave a prize for the oldest woman on the bus, and since most of our companions were old, Barbara asked about a prize for the youngest. That idea was unpopular. A good place to see, not one I would want to live in.

     At Starlight camp, we were on top of a mountain overlooking the Amish country. Farms seem to have 20 or 30 acres. Dozens of giant hot air balloons were taking off at daylight. They make good use of their land. We went to an Amish Farmer's Market the next day. Shoofly Pie, fresh squeezed apple juice. Barbara was about to take a picture of two Amish men, playing checkers. They waved it off, no pictures. They were making a living off the tourists, and I thought that was a little odd. We overate chocolate at Hershey. Horse and buggy rigs were just everywhere. The simple life has it's attraction, taking life directly from the land. Many of their harvesting devices were familiar, from Wing, many years ago.

     We moved to Gettysburg, and toured the battle site. So much pain and death on these fields. The last man to fall on Pickett's charge fell right here, by these bushes. We left out on a dreary morning, somehow appropriate. Past a statue of an officer on his horse at the crest of a hill, past thousands of crosses standing in straight rows. We don't want to glorify war, but we must pay tribute to these brave men. We were glad we saw it, even more glad when we left.

     We drove through Maryland. The leaves were not quite at their peak yet, but we saw it a couple of years later, backtracking I must admit, which we try to avoid. The second time around, Maryland was as glorious as New England was now. Moving into West Virginia, it was a hard trip. Even on this great interstate now through these mountains. Its hard to imagine the hardships of the pioneers, traveling here. We camped at Broken Wheel Campground, and the name seemed appropriate. West Virginia is a poor state, very rich in natural beauty – and coal.

     The old grist mill on a rushing brook at Babcock State Park, which of course we pictured, is a great photo attraction. We have seen photos of it, all over the country. The New River Gorge is actually very old, and the world's longest single arch steel bridge spans it, 867 feet above the river below. The coal seam is about three quarters of the way to the top, and it's easy to mine. Just drop the coal to the valley below, haul it off. Many sky divers gather at the New River Gorge bridge one day each year, to risk killing themselves. I just don't have that urge.

     This was a backward, isolated area for so long, before this high tech corridor we came down. Travel was hard for these friendly people, who speak so much like the Arkansas hill people of my youth. The slang is so similar, it is amazing. I know they never visited back and forth much, over these mountains. The New River is also a top white water river.

Forever A Hillbilly: Nova Scotia

Forever A Hillbilly: Nova Scotia:      Entering Nova Scotia, we traveled to Antigonish, a Scottish town. We unloaded the car and went for a drive. Along the south coast, we ...