How Towns Say Hello

I spent much of the 1990s traveling the back roads of the American West in a motorhome, writing and publishing my quarterly newspaper Out West as I went. Over that decade I snapped photos of the “Welcome to Town” signs of many rural communities. Here is a short video essay I put together back then. The quality is not too great as I had to transfer the essay from VHS to a digital format before posting it online.

No skateboarding dogs allowed here

I can't remember where I took this photo. But I do recall that I was pretty amazed that a sign was necessary to keep dogs from skateboarding in the park. I wish I could remember the town where I snapped this so I could return to get some actual shots of the local dogs in action. Whoever put up this sign is crazy: skateboarding dogs would be a great tourist attraction!

Big news coming next week

I have some very, very exciting news which I plan to announce in the Saturday, Sept. 8 edition of the RVtravel.com newsletter. I will not tell you now exactly what it is, but I can tell you that it involves a recreational vehicle and, yes, a new recreational vehicle. And, yes, it involves me.

I can't say anymore than that at this moment. But please be sure to read the newsletter next Saturday for the scoop. It will be worth the wait.

What a beauty, the now-classic GMC motorhome

Is this a beautiful RV? It looks really modern, but this GMC motorhome was built about 35 years ago! I remember when I was a young man and was dreaming of buying my first RV, I drooled over this one. My idol Charles Kuralt, who roamed the back roads for CBS News, traveled with one of these for awhile, and it was featured on his "On the Road" segments on the evening news. You would often see the coach pictured as it rolled down a scenic two-lane highway. And when there was a shot of Kuralt inside at his typewriter. . . well, this aspiring young journalist went basically crazy with desire to do the same.

These classic low-profile design motorhomes went out of production 30 years ago, but you still see them, and I don't think most non-RVers would ever guess they are older than just about all the other motorhomes on the road today.

If you want to learn more about this classic coach, do a Google search using the keyword GMC motorhome and you'll find many websites and feature articles. If you own one of these, leave a comment and tell the rest of us what you think of it.

Good times in my RV darkroom

I stumbled upon this photo this morning. It’s one I took of myself about 25 years ago in my first motorhome, an 18-foot Class C RV that broke down practically every trip. I eeked out a living then as a freelance writer selling stories to little magazines.

In this photo, I am printing photographs in my small RV. About two nights a week I would do this. The next morning I would mail the photos with manuscripts to editors.

I could set up my darkroom in about 15 minutes, but only in very dark campgrounds where I had an electric hookup. I would usually need to cover the windows with towels and blankets, and pray that a car wouldn’t pass with its highbeams on.

My ritual was to turn up my stereo and sip cheap beer as I printed (I could not afford good beer back then). I was very happy when I was printing! I would usually take a break every hour or so. In some cases, the campgrounds were in the middle of nowhere. When I would step outside, I would often be greeted by only silence and darkness. It seemed incredible and wonderful to me that I could earn my living in such places.

Even though I earned little money, I was free and I was working as a magazine writer, something I had dreamed of doing for years. Until I actually went on the road to do it, I never knew if it was a dream that could come true or not. It did.

Technology has come a long way since then and I have taken advantage of most of it. But I miss my old darkroom.

Dinosaur attack fended off near Petrified Forest

Sometimes you are walking down a quiet street in a small town and all of a sudden a dinosaur leaps out at you. This evil one came after me on Route 66 near the Petrified Forest in Arizona. I had just finished breakfast at Joe and Angies Cafe in Holbrook when I turned around and there it was -- a juvenile 'saur coming at me in search of his own breakfast! Hah! Little did the prehistoric leftover know that I am self-taught in dino-defense. I know that simply grabbing such a beast by its jaws cripples it. So that's what I am doing here.

When I look back on this pic I realize a couple of things: number one, I am very lucky to be alive. The other is I realize that I am losing the hair on the back of my head.

Even a dandelion can be pretty

I snapped this photo in the Skagit Valley of Washington, which is a huge tulip growing region -- in fact second only to Holland in the annual production of tulips. The area is packed with camera-toting visitors every May during the annual Tulip Festival. While everyone else was paying attention to the colorful tulips, I spotted this lonely dandelion. I thought it was pretty, too.

A plane interrupts my view of the Milky Way

Here is a little essay I wrote recently while camping. I decided to read you the story instead of just printing the words. It's short -- about a minute. Hope you enjoy me telling the little story. Click here to listen.

Pint-sized horse has its own bedroom in motorhome

Thumbelina weighs a mere 58 pounds and is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records. The dwarf miniature horse stands 17.5 inches tall, smaller than some dogs. Guinness says she's the world's smallest horse. She travels with her owners in a custom Coachmen motorhome where she gets the master bedroom.

Her owners display her at public appearances. Crowds show their appreciation by donating to a non-profit charity that helps teens with special needs or who have high at-risk backgrounds.

When she isn't traveling, the tiny horse lives in Missouri. Read more about the famous mini horse.

PHOTO: You can probably guess which of the three horses is Thumbelina.

Yummy Salt Water Taffy in Oregon

I posted this on our Short Stops blog, but figured I would post it here, too, in case you missed it in the other place.

Depoe Bay, Ore., located right along majestic U.S. 101 on the Pacific Coast, is famous for whale watching and shopping for salt water taffy. One small shop sells 60 different varieties -- great for the sweet tooth, and probably for a dentist's business, too (sticky stuff!). Here's a short video I did in between visiting the tiny town's many trinket shops.

A big day in the life of waitress Brenda Merry

It began as a routine day for waitress Brenda Merry at the Top Notch Cafe in Colfax, Washington. And then HE walked in!

The man was dressed casually. He was polite.

Why was everyone staring at him? Brenda Merry wondered. But she soon realized who he was, and he was seated at her table! And so, with order pad in hand, she approached the man, who she now knew was the richest man in the world, who had stopped for lunch in the Top Notch in tiny Colfax, best known for the Codger Pole monument across the street, the world's tallest chain saw carving.


He ordered a cheeseburger without onions, fries, and a coffee milkshake. He sat with his wife and a newspaper reporter in the front corner table, a round one next to the big glass window looking out on Main Street, which is state route 195. His bodyguard took a seat at the counter.

Brenda Merry loves working at the Top Notch. "Where else can you get paid for coming to a party everyday?" she asks. "If I weren't here, I'd just be home," which is a big spread in the country where the lawn is so big it takes three hours to cut with a riding lawn mower.


After the man left town, the local newspaper ran an article about his visit along with a color photo of Brenda Merry.

For the six months, the Top Notch was packed. Everyone wanted to ask Brenda Merry about the man. What was he like? For that half year, she was the most sought after person in all of Colfax.

So who was he? You have probably guessed by now. He was Bill Gates. How much did the richest man in the world leave for a tip? "Twenty percent," said Brenda Merry.

The Red Horse Drive In is a half mile and 60 years off I-90 in Ellensburg, Washington. The best part of the place is the 1930’s era gas station, which is as spit-shined clean as an army officer’s dress boots.

It’s equal part business and labor of love for owner Bruce Crossett. From I-90, a motorist can easily find the place by exiting the west Ellensburg entrance of Interstate 90 at exit 106. Two minutes later they’re there. Trouble is, not a whole lot of people know about the place except locals, and even they don’t know a lot about it. “The Ellensburg newspaper has never even done a story,” said Crossett, who earns his main paycheck from the used car lot next door and plows back profits into his gas station/cafe.


The cafe offers yummy burgers and other roadside fare. I opted for a Rumble Seat -- the basic burger, at only $4.95. I’d give it B-plus grade for rural cafe burgers -- excellent but not the ultimate. If I were hungrier I may have gone for the “Dead Man’s Curve” for two dollars more. Milk shakes are $3, a bargain these days.

If you want to learn more about the Red Horse Drive-In, call Bruce at 509-925-1764. Or stop by: Ellensburg is on the eastern edge of the Cascade mountains about 100 miles east of Seattle.

A funny song about "forgetting things"

If you've ever misplaced your reading glasses or your car keys, or couldn't find your cell phone when it rang because you forget where it was. . . then you will get a good laugh from this song by folksinger Tom Rush.

Rodent on steroids in the West

Back in the 1800s newspapers in the East wrote about giant creatures in the mysterious American West. One dispatch told of giant salmon that had jumped from a creek into a stage coach, attacking the terrified passengers. Well, maybe there are still big critters in the West -- and for sure there are plenty on postcards, like on this one with a giant bunny. Can you imagine the ride you'd get on this fellow? You'll find this postcard at many tacky roadside trading posts.

Postcard of the week: Mistaken calves!

Oscar and his wife have a different idea of the "pretty calves" in this old postcard. We're not sure of its date, and it was never mailed so there's no stamp. But the typeface on the back is old. Thirties? Fifties? Anyone want to guess?

Postcard of the week: Giant spuds!

Potatoes are big in Idaho. Nearly 12 percent of all potatoes grown in the USA are grown in Idaho. Washington comes in second with 9.5 percent, and even Maine contributes 1.5 percent of the annual harvest. On average, each year every American consumes 126 pounds of spuds, 16 pounds as french fries. Potatoes are good for you. They have no fat, cholesterol or sodium and are rich in vitamin C. The potato in this postcard is a bit larger than normal, but in Idaho they do grow some big ones.

Postcard of the Week: Classic Motel

Even though most of us travel by RV these days, many of us, me included, once stayed in motels. Nowadays, you hardly ever find a "motel." Instead, they're hotels, inns, lodges, and even motor hotels and motor lodges. Anything but "motel" (Motel 6 the exception). This week's postcard typifies the motel design of three or four decades ago -- one level, pool in the middle, and female guest ever so proper with her bathing cap. This postcard is of the Sacramento Motel in North Sacramento, Calif.

A tulip with a message

About 60 miles north of Seattle is the Skagit Valley, home to the largest tulip growing area in the USA. For about two weeks every spring before the tulips are harvested, the public is invited to walk through the stunning landscape of reds, pinks, purples, whites and yellows -- the colors of the magnificent flowers. When I saw this red tulip all by itself in a field of yellow ones, two words popped into my head: "Be different!" Of the countless tulips I was seeing, only one stood apart. And isn't that the way it is with people, too? I want to be the red tulip.

Postcard of the Week: Man or Beast?

Is Jake the Alligator Man for real? At Marsh's Free Museum in Long Beach, Wash., visitors wonder. He's enclosed in a glass case so you can't touch. But people approach the case all day long, staring, not quite knowing for sure. Legend has it that Jake is half human, half alligator, which certainly seems a stretch as in "how the heck could that happen without the human getting eaten?" Anyway, Jake postcards are popular items at the checkout stand as are Jake bumper stickers and tee-shirts. Across the street is a small park with the "World's Largest Frying Pan." Long Beach is on a long, thin peninsula on the southwest coast of Washington. The peninsula's wide beach is an official state highway, so you can drive your car or RV right on it.

Postcard of the Week: Big rabbits Out West!

Yup, they sure do have big jack rabbits Out West! Why, they're so big you can ride 'em, just like this cowpoke is doing in this untouched, 100 percent authentic postcard photograph. And we'll tell you a little secret: it's darn tough to catch one of these big rodents! Those big ol' bunny ears can hear ya coming for a mile or better, and as amazing as that sounds, it's the honest truth. And, as you know, the honest truth is a whole lot more believeable than the dishonest truth!

Postcard of the week: Feeding the "wild" critters

In one Southwest ghost town, a rare critter roams the street, and tourists are encouraged to feed the beasts. What are they? They're burros, descendents of the animals abandoned decades ago by gold miners. The town is Oatman, Arizona, once a popular stop along Route 66, but today more popular as a place to buy souvenir trinkets and feed the hungry critters. Burro food is available at many shops, as are postcards starring the animals. Hint: Don't stand directly behind a burro or you could end up getting a good "hoofin.'"

Postcard of the week: Indian "humor"

You won't find this postcard for sale nowadays except in an antique shop. The days of poking fun at American Indians is long over. But it wasn't so even 40 or 50 years ago when this cartoon postcard was available in roadside tourist shops throughout the American West. In fact, cartoon-type postcards were very popular back then. I'll have more to share with you in the weeks and months ahead.

Postcard of the Week: One huge fish!

Here are a couple of facts of life that you did not learn in school, at home, or in church. They are: guys like to fish and guys like to brag about how big a fish they caught. And here is proof that every once in awhile guys really do catch very big fish. Hey, do pictures on postcards lie?

Tiny post office

You don't find post office as small as this one very often. Actually, you never find a post office smaller than this one because this is the smallest post office building in the USA. It's located in Ochopee, Florida (Zip Code 33943), which is 35 miles east of Naples on U.S. 41 in the Big Cypress National Preserve. This postcard is about 12 years old.

Is this motorhome beautiful or ugly?

This is the actual interior of a motorhome. I will make 10 or 11 people in America (and maybe a few in Canada) angry with this statement, but here's is what I think of this RV: I think it looks like a bad Las Vegas hotel room. Now, I realize this isn't a camper you take to Yellowstone with the kids for a summer vacation. This photo is from an ad in a motorhome magazine. There is no price shown but I can pretty much guarantee that the motorhome goes for at least a half million dollars and probably more.

Who buys a motorhome that looks like this? Don't ask me, because I don't get it. My own tastes run toward a much smaller RV, one that would fit in a space somewhat smaller than a football field -- like maybe what you would find in a national forest. This RV looks like a Greyhound bus on the outside except there is no picture of a dog and it's shinier.

Tell me what you think. Take my little 20-second private survey where you can vote (and see how others voted) if this is the most beautiful sight you have ever seen or if it is uglier than sin.

Making fire starters from pinecones

Sometimes it's a little hard to get a campfire started. Here's a way to turn pinecones into firestarters. Thanks to the Old Farmers Almanac for this information.

Start with pinecones that are already dried. There are two ways to have fun with pinecones as a fire starter. First, melt any old candle stubs you have. A double-boiler works nicely for this job. Then, dip the pinecones into the hot wax. Let dry, perhaps on a cookie sheet lined with aluminum foil. When dry, store them in your RV and use as needed. The wax helps them burn long enough to help get your fire going. For more special effects, soak the dried pinecones for 24 hours in a solution of 1 pound Epsom salts to 1 gallon water. Let the cones dry again. When you use these as fire starters, they will produce a myriad of colors in the campfire.

Postcard of the week: Jackalopes!

You can't travel far in the rural American West without running into a jackalope. Oh, you won't see one in the wild too often, but you'll see plenty in person at roadside trading posts (otherwise known as tourist traps), and on about a dozen popular postcards. At Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota, you can even sit right atop a huge 'lope (undoubtedly raised on powerful steroids) and get your picture taken. Jackalopes, in case you don't know, are a cross between a jackrabbit and an antelope. The only time you will likely run into one is after closing time at a rural tavern when they often howl in pairs. Some folks say they sound like Roy Rogers and Dale Evans singing a duet. And here's another little-known fact about jackalopes: they only mate during lightning storms. Now, how about that?

My name is Chuck and other names

My name is Chuck, but it's really Charles. I took the name Chuck when I was a teenager. I thought it was better than Charles, which sounded too formal. For the last few decades I have questioned my decision. I have determined that the name Chuck is the most common name found on bowling alley score cards. I have a cartoon that shows a butcher shop: "Chuck Steak: $1.49 a pound," it says. "Charles Steak, $5.49 a pound."

I especially love the word Chuck as it is used in the popular term "Up Chuck."

But I could have a name that I liked less. Here are a few names I found in a book called "Remarkable Names of Real People."

Remember, these are absolutely real.

Dr. Zoltan Ovary (a noted gynecologist)
A. Moron (Commissioner of Education, Virgin Islands)
Sir Basil Smallpiece
Mrs. Belcher Wack Wack (she married Mr. Wack and then his brother)
Cardinal Sin (Archbishop of Manila)
Reverand Christian Church
Baroness Gaby von Bagge of Boo
Gaston J Feeblebunny
I.C. Shivers (iceman)
Ima and Ura Hogg
Katz Meow
Preserved Fish, Jr.

In my own family, one name always gets a chuckle: my great aunt Fanny Butts. I once came across a married couple who worked as real estate agents in Sacramento, California. Their name: The Swindlers. Maybe you have some names to add!

Postcard of the Week: Idaho potatoes

Idaho is a beautiful state with tall mountains, pine forests, and lakes and streams for catching big ol' trout. But it also has a lot of farmland and just about everybody knows about the biggest crop: Yes, you are right -- it's potatoes. In the town of Blackfoot you can learn all about potatoes, see the world's largest potato chip and even eat a yummy potato for free. Billboards on the way into town advertise "Free Taters For Out-Of-Staters." So, being famous for its potatoes, you'd expect that there would be a selection of postcards related to spuds. The one pictured above is one of the most popular.

Stuck people

Here are some photos I have collected in my travels of people who are truly stuck. Do not try this yourself! Click on any photo to make all the photos bigger.

Hot fish and a scary-shaped building

Here are a few things about Death Valley that may surprise you. First, in case you do not know, Death Valley is a National Park -- the largest National Park in the USA outside Alaska -- and is located in Southern California with a little bit in Nevada. It's the lowest place in the Western Hemisphere at nearly a few hundred feet below sea level. And it's very, very hot. In the summer, the temperature routinely reaches 120 degrees. The record is 134.

Did you know that Death Valley has its own fish? It's true. But do not bring your fishing pole, because the Pupfish is about the size of a small goldfish. What is amazing about this little fish is how it can survive in such a harsh environment. Its ancestors occupied Lake Manley, which covered Death Valley. The water probably got warm, but not hot like the tiny pools where the Pupfish lives today, which can be hotter than your evening bathwater. The fact is, the Pupfish can live in water as hot as 115 degrees! Try taking a bath in water like that and you will probably dip your pinky in and utter, "No way!"

At the Furnace Creek oasis, you will find a beautiful 18-hole golf course. It's the lowest golf course in the world -- at 214 feet below sea level. For many visitors, it's a big surprise to find a golf course in Death Valley, but there is no problem keeping the grass green because of an abundance of gushing spring water.

Another interesting thing about Death Valley is at the visitor center at Furnace Creek. If you should ever attend an evening nature program, pay attention to the shape of the building. It's not square or rectangular like most buildings. No, this building is unique -- shaped exactly like a coffin. Now doesn't that seem appropriate for a place named Death Valley?

We are all builders

We are all builders at heart. Someone built this little monument at the Harmony Borax Works site in Death Valley National Park. It doesn't take much to build such a monument -- a few rocks and few minutes. Such a monument may last a day or a month. But just as we humans are included to build monuments, we are also inclined to destroy them: maybe the park service will determine that this one is not fitting its historic site. But I think there's a better chance someone will just push it over. If you drive I-80 across the vast Bonniville Salt Flats in Utah, you will find many little monuments like this one. Some are more one dimensional: rocks placed on the ground to spell a name or create an image; there were a few peace symbols the last time I drove by. Some people build beautiful sand castles at the beach. These are guaranteed to vanish with the next high tide. In the redwoods, people have carved their names in fallen redwood trees. These are more "memorials" than monuments. A name carved in a fallen redwood tree may still be visible 100 years later, for redwood trees decompose very slowly. I saw a fallen redwood once where early explorers had left their signatures.

Pizza in a ghost town

This trailer is right outside the Mozart Club in Goldfield, Nevada. It's the only restaurant in Goldfield these days, with a limited menu: pizza or chicken. Bartender and owner Rick McChesney asked me if I wanted pizza. I said sure. He went in back and started making it. After awhile, he delivered it to my table. It was huge with all the fixings. I realized then that when you order a pizza at the Mozart, you get one size fits all. It was a mighty fine pizza.

Goldfield was once a booming gold mining town of 10,000. Now there are maybe 500 people, if that. The old Goldfield Hotel (see pic), was once the most elegant hostelry between Chicago and San Francisco but is now boarded up. There have been a couple of restoration attempts, but all fell short. There's a new owner now, and he says he will get the once majestic hotel up and running again, complete with casino. No one is holding their breath.

There was a huge championship boxing match in Goldfield in 1906 -- the Gans/Nelson bout that was telegraphed around the world. Joe Gans was black and Battling Nelson was white. Seven thousand people watched in what is now a vacant lot. The fight went 42 rounds before being called because of a low blow. To this day, it is the longest world title fight in the history of boxing.

Goldfield is worth a stop for anyone traveling between Las Vegas and Reno on U.S. 95. There's a tiny motel and an RV park. A good place to grab a libation is at the Mozart or down the street at the Santa Fe Saloon, the oldest continually operating bar in Nevada.

Selling ammo cans by the road

At the north end of Beatty, Nevada, along the west side of U.S. 95, Ernie Bunting sells ammunition cans. They come in all sizes and sell from $8 to more than $100. Ernie lives in both a motorhome or a trailer depending upon whether he's in Beatty or in Kingman, Arizona, where he sells ammo cans at flea markets.

A regular stream of traffic passes by his Beatty location, mostly truckers and other motorists traveling between Las Vegas and Reno -- or in the case of RVers, to and from Death Valley. Ernie operates his businesss year round, even in the hot summer. "They've got air conditioning here so it's not so bad," he said.

He sells hundreds of ammo cans. They're great for storing important things because they're super sturdy and water tight. Ernie finds ammo cans to sell on the Internet. He says he doesn't know if the metal type he sells now will be as readily available in the future. "They're talking about making them out of plastic," he said, shaking his head to show disapproval.

He started selling all sorts of stuff in his present open-air location about four years ago, junk mostly. Ernie didn't say as much to me, but I bet he would agree.

Then he hit on selling ammo cans. I bought one today about the size of a bread loaf for $8. But I could have paid $100 for a whopper-sized one that looked to be about 32 square feet in size. People stop all day long. Some like me buy a single can. "One guy bought 10 of these $15 ones this morning," he told me, pointing to a stack of king-sized cans.

Ernie says he's not making a great living, but sales of ammo cans help supplement his social security. In his younger years, he moved houses and churches for a living. He moved a total of 16 churches, lifting them off their foundations and moving them to new places. "Now that was work!" he said.

I asked Ernie if I could take his picture and he said that was fine and he asked me where I wanted him to pose. "People ask me all the time to take my picture," he said. As I snapped a few photos, a fellow drove by in a pickup truck. "Getting more famous Ernie?" he yelled, and Ernie smiled and nodded.

Postcard of the week: Montana's Big Fish

Here's a postcard that you will find in most souvenir shops in Montana. The state is most famous for its fly fishing, but it's also famous for its fishing in general. The caption on the flip side of this card is "And this is only my bait!" We just wish that the big fish were a trout, which is what anglers who head to Big Sky Country come fishing for. Do you have a wacky postcard that you would like us to publish here? Send it to Chuck Woodbury, RVtravel.com, 170 West Dayton St., Suite 103, Edmonds, WA 98020. We cannot return the postcard, so please keep that in mind.

Anticipation

In two days I'm hitting the road to Death Valley and beyond. Just thinking about leaving is almost as good as doing it. But when departure time is a mere 48 hours away like now, the pain of waiting is acute: I want to roll at this very minute! But I have chores to finish and a motorhome to load. . . So, gotta wait just a little bit longer before turning the key to ignite the engine. Ever been to Death Valley? It's not a wasteland as some people think. It's beautiful. I'll park the RV at the Furnace Creek oasis, where there are a thousand palm trees and gushing spring water that helps keep everything green, even on summer days when the temp hits a ridiculous 125 degrees or higher. I've been going to Death Valley since I was a little kid, and that was back in the dinosaur age. But not a whole lot has changed. It's good to return to a familiar place, one that hasn't been overrun with franchise food joints. Did you know that Death Valley is America's largest National Park? Yup, it's true. And in case you don't know, it's in California.

Postcard of the Week: Critter with sunglasses

This postcard should probably be in the Western Postcard Museum. Unfortunately, I do not believe there is such a place. But it is a very popular card, found at roughly five out of six rural roadside trading posts and other tacky tourist places. You can still purchase this card today for 25 cents, which is a bargain when you consider that it will one day, perhaps 50 years from now, be a collector's item worth at least 75 cents. Do you have a wacky postcard that you would like me to publish here? Send it to Chuck Woodbury, RVtravel.com, 170 West Dayton St., Suite 103, Edmonds, WA 98020. We cannot return the postcard, so please keep that in mind.

Why a campground went bust

Sometimes when you drive around the countryside as I do in an RV, you come across interesting things. Daa! How stupid is that statement? Of course you come across interesting things! Anyway, one day I spotted this sign for a trailer park that was up for sale, as you can plainly see by the sign on the sign. As any junior college business student will tell you, there is a simple reason why this park went belly up: RVers just drove thru instead of paying to stay the night! If I owned an RV park I would call it the "Stay Overnight or a Week Park," and not the "Drive-Thru Park." The owner of this place was stupid and if you don't agree then I urge you to never open a business.

Happy (belated) Holidays from Joe's RV

Joe from Joe's RV wishes his customers a Happy Holiday. Even though the holidays are long gone, we can't resist sharing this video of hope, hype and mostly cornball humor.

My magical powers

This photo was taken a year ago but I have kept it a secret because I was afraid to reveal my magical powers. Well, I have reconsidered and now feel it is perfectly okay. Mind you, I can’t do everything magical. But what I can do, as you can plainly see in this untouched photograph, is make trash cans levitate. By simply holding my hands over a typical state park trash can, I am able to "will it" to float in mid air. Do not try this on your own and please do not ask your children to do this, because it takes special powers. To try this without the proper powers could result in spilled garbage.

Wacky Postcard of the Week: Rattlesnakes!

If you poke around postcard racks at rural roadside trading posts of the West, you won't have a problem finding cards with a snake theme. This one has been around a long time and may only be available nowadays in antique stores. The postcard's message illustrates the fascination that people had (and still have) about the wild critters of the American West. Do you have a wacky postcard that you would like me to publish here? Send it to Chuck Woodbury, RVtravel.com, 170 West Dayton St., Suite 103, Edmonds, WA 98020. We cannot return the postcard, so please keep that in mind.

Rocking out in Olympic National Park

This guy rocks out in his RV as he drives through Washington State's Olympic National Park. Give the video about 15 seconds for the guy to break lose, as he rock and rolls to "My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean."

Our new motorhome

A couple shows off their new motorhome to their children.

Why buffalo disappeared

These days as you RV through America, you will seldom see an American Bison, which most of us commonly call buffalo. Most people probably see these animals at Yellowstone National Park. But there were once millions of American Bison. What happened? Here is the answer according to Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Bison were hunted almost to extinction in the 19th century and were reduced to a few hundred head by the mid-1880s, from which all the present day's managed herds are descended. One major cause was that hunters were paid by large railroad concerns to destroy entire herds, for several reasons:

*The herds formed the basis of the economies of local Plains tribes of Native Americans for whom the bison were a primary food source; without bison, the Native Americans would be forced to leave or starve.
* Herds of these large animals on tracks could damage locomotives when the trains failed to stop in time.
* Herds often took shelter in the artificial cuts formed by the grade of the track winding though hills and mountains in harsh winter conditions. As a result, the herds could delay a train for days.

THE PICTURE above, taken in the 1870s, shows a huge pile of bison skulls.

Bison skins were used for industrial machine belts, clothing such as robes, and rugs. There was a huge export trade to Europe of bison hides. Old West bison hunting was very often a big commercial enterprise, involving organized teams of one or two professional hunters, backed by a team of skinners, gun cleaners, cartridge reloaders, cooks, wranglers, blacksmiths, security guards, teamsters, and numerous horses and wagons. Men were even employed to recover and re-cast lead bullets taken from the carcasses. Many of these professional hunters such as Buffalo Bill Cody killed over a hundred animals at a single stand and many thousands in their career. One professional hunter killed over 20,000 by his own count. A good hide could bring $3.00 in Dodge City, Kansas, and a very good one (the heavy winter coat) could sell for $50.00 in an era when a laborer would be lucky to make a dollar a day.

My experiences with marshallows

I don't buy marshmallows at home. But when I take an RV trip, I always buy marshmallows. I cannot take a trip with my 15-year-old daughter without bringing along marshmallows. That would be a sin.

I have two special marshmallow roasting devices that I bought at an RV park for about a dollar each. They have a wooden handle and a long, very slender metal rod. You slide the marshmallow over the rod, and then roast the marshmallow over a campfire. You must roast marshmallows over a fire. You can't do it over a stove or you would be cheating. That would be like microwaving a steak.

I know a little bit about marshmallows because I once visited a marshmallow factory. It was near Las Vegas. You could take a self-guided tour. Behind glass walls you could see marshmallows being made. Workers wore white uniforms. Almost everything else was white.

I wrote about my visit to the factory. Ever since, when someone types in marshmallow into a search engine, my story comes up. So I get letters from all over the world from people who want me to distribute their marshmallows in the USA. Go figure!

The marshallow factory was next door to a factory that made rocket fuel. One day, the rocket fuel exploded. Boom!!! Marshmallow slop went flying everywhere. Bye bye marshmallow factory. I don't think anyone was hurt.

Believe it or not, marshmallows should not be eaten by vegetarians. Marshmallows are made mostly of sugar, corn syrup and egg whites, but commercial brands also use a gelling agent, which is derived from animal hides or bones.

How about that?

Dancing with Betty

Sometimes when you are on a long RV trip, you get weary of driving and you want to do something different. Well, here is a picture of me dancing taken quite a few years ago when I was a single guy (for the first time). I was in Colorado, all by myself, and all of a sudden a little voice spoke to me that said, "Chuck, you need to dance."

Now, this is either a true story or a dream I once had. I'm not sure which, so maybe it's not true. Anyway. . .

I stopped in a little dancing place near Pueblo, where you could actually pay by the dance. You paid a dollar and you got two dances. Normally if you go out to dance you bring a date and you buy dinner, wine and maybe two or three mixed drinks, and by the end of the evening you probably end up paying $4 a dance, maybe more. So this was a spectacular deal.

And so I paid $10 for quite a few tickets, which got me a lot of dances. I took a liking to a petite dancer named Betty, who had brown hair, brown eyes and a very nice shape. So we danced one dance after another, mostly slow dances because I am a terrible fast dancer. It was great. Records were playing Freddy and the Dreamers' songs.

Afterwards I asked Betty to have coffee with me, which she did, which was against the rules. But she was up for it. Then we took a stroll along a stream, which I learned later was named Terror Creek. Betty was swell. But I never saw her again because I had to move on to find an RV park, and it was far out of town. I always wondered what happened to Betty, but I guess I will never know.

Crazy Dog

In case you have not seen this video, here it is -- one of the absolutely funniest home videos you will ever see. The dog is definitely crazy -- believing that its very own foot is trying to take away its bone. If you don't laugh at this, you don't have a sense of humor.