Well, we did it! We attempted our first winter camping expedition… and survived.
We had barely been on the road for an hour when I noticed the Paddy Wagon’s windshield was cracked.
Déjà vu. Another time, we had been travelling in a different vehicle when we found a crack in our windshield. Foolishly, we waited until we got home to have it repaired, which by that time was too late and the whole windshield had to be replaced. Not wanting to make the same mistake, we contacted Safelite while we were driving and made an appointment for a stop along the way. In a matter of seconds, the Safelite guy pointed out that the crack actually extended across the top of the entire windshield and was way too big to repair. So, on we went, knowing that we will have to replace it when we get home.
The first night we stopped at a Harvest Host site, the Tuscan Hills Winery, in Effingham, Illinois. A flight of delicious wines, stone fired pizza… it was wonderful. Plus, they were dog-friendly and allowed us to bring in Maya, who was a perfect lady in the venue. We parked in their large gravel parking lot and watched the sun rise in the morning.
It was cold, about 28 degrees overnight, but we were comfortable in the van. However, in the morning, we discovered that our inverter, that is supposed to charge the battery while we are driving, was not working. So, for the first time ever, we couldn’t make our morning coffee because the outlet for the electric kettle didn’t work. What a DISASTER!
But only until Pat suggested we go across the highway and have a hot breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Crisis averted.
It is here that I want to explain that the reason we were traveling to Missouri was to attend the viewing and funeral of Mike Nelson, a husband, father, grandfather, brother, and friend who was enormously loved and respected by all. Pat and I extend our deepest condolences to his family. We are grateful that we were able to be there to pay our respects and to stay with my sister and brother-in-law in their lovely lakeview condo to mourn and celebrate the life of this great guy.
Our intention was to slowly make our way back home, camping along the way, but a major ice storm and temperatures in the teens hit the area and prevented us from going anywhere. The roads were so bad we couldn’t even drive 30 minutes to a nearby campground and were afraid we would get stranded by ice if we tried.
Quick change of plans. We spent the next two nights at my brother and sister-in-law’s home in perfect warmth and comfort. I only feel bad that they had to send their two pint-sized pups to my sister-in-law’s mother’s house a few blocks away since we weren’t sure if Maya would get along with their dogs, Loki and Johnny Rotten, the Yorkie, who, according to my brother, has a “large and in charge” attitude.
It was here that I bonked my head in the pitch dark when I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Holy heck, I thought I cracked my skull. True, I had a massive headache for four days, but Xrays showed my bones and brains to be intact. (I’m feeling much better now.)
Our original intention was to boondock in a forest somewhere, so we could go hiking and exploring for a few days. However, with a broken inverter, we were dependent on hooking up to an outside source of electricity. During warmer months, it wouldn’t be a big deal, but when it’s in the low 20s at night, we really needed to be able to plug in to shore power to run a small ceramic floor heater to keep the van above freezing. All we needed was a campground with electrical hookups, but we discovered that it’s not so easy to find campgrounds that are open in the winter. It took a bit of research to find a campground in the state of Kentucky that was open and had electricity.
I’m sure that during summer months, the General Butler State Resort Park would be filled to capacity. Located smack dab in between Louisville and Cincinnati, it was a conveniently located and beautiful place that boasted a lodge, restaurant, cabins, a historic federal-era house that guests could tour, and lots of activities, like birding, boating, Frisbee and mini golf.
The campground was nearly empty, with a few scattered RVs and one site with a tent that must have been occupied by some very hearty souls. The trees were bare and the trails muddy, but we donned our hiking boots and covered more than 8 miles hiking trails around the lake and across the hills. Pat was particularly glad that the Fossil Trail lived up to his name.
All in all, it wasn’t what we were expecting, but our winter camping experience was fun and gratifying.
And again, when we got home, despite a cracked windshield, frigid cold, and mud, we all agreed that we can’t wait for our next van adventure.
