Events of Monday, January 31, 2011

                Only 28 more days until I am in my OWN bed! In my OWN house! Even though it will only be for a few days, this is the part I am looking forward to the most about our brief return to California. As I have shared before, boondocking is NOT my favorite activity on this trip. Initially we budgeted for ten nights of boondocking over the eight months we’d be traversing the U.S. Somehow I forgot it was ten nights total, and thought it was ten times a month. Even though I realized this mistake several months ago, we still average ten nights of boondocking a month. Most of these boondocking nights have resulted in a poor night of sleep for me. Either I am fearful we will be woken by a knock in the middle of the night because the store manager’s answer to Jim’s request for permission was not clear cut as in “I can’t officially give you permission because it is not our lot, but people park here overnight all the time…”; or we receive clear permission only to be kept awake by noise or light. Last night, my lack of sleep was from the latter.

                Because of the heavy rain, we had headed into the Walmart parking a couple of hours before dinner, which is much earlier than usual, but it was raining so hard, we just wanted a place to read, to fix and eat dinner and to relax. We settled at the end of the lot, far away from the road, the store and any other cars. Soon after dinner, the parking lot began to fill up. First there was one RV, and then a van camper and then another camper, but all courteously parked far away from us. I wish the truckers could be so courteous. Several times during the night I was awakened by the rumble of a truck idling nearby – near enough that it sounded like it was under my pillow. Then, around 4 a.m., loud music started playing. When Jim finally woke us at 7, I peeked out the window to find us literally surrounded by 18 wheelers. In fact, I wondered how Jim was going to be able to maneuver to get us out.

                Our fairly routine morning was interrupted by my clumsiness when I knocked a full pitcher of filtered water onto the floor. Water was everywhere and the pitcher destroyed. I was seriously bummed as we have been fairly militant about filtering our water as we have found some of the water systems at campgrounds around the country lacking in clarity and proven purity. Caitlin cheerfully announced that, as she had some shopping to do at Walmart, she’d accompany Jim and pick up a new Brita pitcher for us. While they were gone, the rest of the kids and I cleaned up the mess and prepared the RV for the day ahead. Upon their return from a successful shopping trip, Jim skillfully maneuvered around the trucks and headed us back to the Vicksburg National Military Park.

                Now that the skies were clear, it was the perfect time to take the driving tour of the park. Returning to the visitor center, Jim purchased the audio tour CD while the kids examined the cannons in front for their junior ranger programs. With the CD narration guiding us stop by stop, we made our way through the park. Blue markers illustrated where the Union army had dug in or progressed on the offensive. Red markers denoted where the Confederate army held the high ground. Monuments to regiments and states fairly littered the grounds. The kids were supposed to keep count of the number of memorials featuring the head of an important player. At one point, Abby complained she was running out of room for her tally marks. During the 46 day siege of Vicksburg, the Confederacy held the high ground with the Union army facing them, the two lines forming a double crescent around Vicksburg. Every forward assault on the part of the Union soldiers was repulsed and so they settled in to wait. On the other side of the line, Confederate soldiers, though holding the more defensible ground, were running out of supplies, food and men as sickness and disease took their toll. When the promised reinforcements from Jacksonville were turned back by General Sherman (Union army), the Confederates ran up the white flag and surrendered on July 4th, 1863.

                While most of the narration was about battle strategy, heroics, advancements and losses, there were several interesting stories and places to stop on the tour. One of our first stops was the Illinois Memorial. Built to mimic the Parthenon, this open topped dome was truly monumental. The kids disembarked to count the steps leading up to the rotunda. They counted 46 steps – the significance? Each step represents one day in the siege of Vicksburg. Inside the dome are the names of the tens of thousands of participants in this bloody battle from Illinois. The memorial is also notable as it, by decree of the Illinois legislature, has no weapons or war memorabilia. The echo in the rotunda was amazing and Abby got a video of the inside while the echo of Jim whistling the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” bounced off the walls.

                At Thayer’s Approach, we were amazed at the steep slope of open hillside the Union forces tried scale to overpower the Confederate line. We could not imagine trying to climb that hill while bullets rained down from above. Later, as we drove along the Confederate line, we were astounded to see blue markers dotting the horizon. Against all odds, the Union forces had climbed those formidable slopes and often gotten within yards of the Confederate line. Listening to the narration, we heard stories of conversations between the trenches as night fell and even of visiting between the opposing sides during a brief cease-fire to deal with the injured and the dead. Even more remarkable was to learn of the residents of Vicksburg who stayed during the siege. Fleeing their houses, they dug caves in the bluffs of the town, some simple and some elaborate, and hid while the battle raged.

                Midway through the tour we had the opportunity to tour the Cairo, the first ironclad steamship sunk by an enemy torpedo. We learned that the North, with industry on its side, built a fleet of ironsides, flat bottomed steamships to carry men and supplies up and down the Mississippi. These boats, loaded with cannons, also left a path of destruction in their wake. The Southerners, mainly from an agricultural economy, had no such ships at their disposal. So they resorted to developing torpedoes or mines as we would call them today, to target the wooden hulls of the ships. Most were duds, until the Cairo ran into one controlled electronically by men on the shore. The Cairo sunk in 12 minutes, but no lives were lost. In the late ‘70s the Cairo was raised from where the mud of the Mississippi River had preserved it and was re-constructed to be put on display.

                As usual, we found our one hour tour lasted far longer than the prescribed time and it was well after lunch when we left the park. We were headed to The Tomato Place, a famous road side stand located just south of Vicksburg. It promised an eclectic artsy scene, with fabulous food, more fabulous fruit smoothies and famous fresh squeezed lemonade. We were sorely disappointed as the billing oversold the actual product. It was a roadside vegetable stand with overpriced produce and expensive $10 sandwiches. Sort of stuck, six people from California visiting a shed, we felt obligated to buy something so we purchased a lemonade to share. The kids watched a single lemon be squeezed then put, rind, seeds and all, in the bottom of a Styrofoam cup, covered with ice and then the cup was filled with lemonade from a soda dispenser. The result was about 12 sips of lemonade and a cup filled with ice and lemon rinds. Very disappointing.

                Now incredibly hungry, we drove on, looking for a place to pull over for lunch. Finally finding a pull-out, we enjoyed lunch and were soon on to our next destination, Port Gibson. Port Gibson was spared destruction during the Civil War when General Grant declared it “too beautiful to burn”. We were in Port Gibson to visit the First Presbyterian Church which is known as “The Church with the Hand Pointing Heavenward”. Topping its steeple is a golden hand with its index finger pointing to heaven. According to church history, the original hand was carved of wood by a young local craftsman, Daniel Foley. The hand is 12 feet tall with the overall height from sidewalk to finger tip being 165 feet. Ravaged by woodpeckers and the weather, a metal version replaced the wooden version around 1901. This was repaired and re-plated and raised again in 1990. While the church steeple and hand are beautiful, the area is not and we were very glad we decided not to make the drive to attend here yesterday. Parking was extremely limited, so I idled Harvey while Caitlin hopped out to take pictures, and we were on our way.

                We were headed for New Orleans. As I drove, Jim and the kids worked out the final details of our New Orleans itinerary. Finding a severe thunderstorm on the horizon, they came up with a plan to keep us inside when it’s stormy, outside walking the French Quarter when it is sunny, with two nights reserved for Jazz. One night would be at Preservation Hall and the other a dinner cruise on the Mississippi complete with steamboat, Cajun cooking and the all important New Orleans detail – JAZZ.

                Driving through the Mississippi countryside, I was surprised at the abject poverty all around. Run down shacks dotted the landscape. Ramshackle houses with caving roofs seemed to be the norm. Yet the landscape was lush and green, full of life and growth. A billboard announced the plantation where Andrew Jackson was married, only ten miles off the road. As I crossed the border into Louisiana, I immediately noticed a change. For one thing, I was driving through the bayou. Suddenly there was water all around. As I drove, Jim tried to determine which body of water we were driving over. Suddenly, off to the right, rose a series of trees out of the water. Each was covered in white. It looked like they had been TPed. Perhaps they were in bloom, but that wasn’t possible, it’s January. As we drew closer I realized that the white was birds, by the dozen, probably ibis.

                After a few hours of driving, we were at our campground, a KOA Kampground that has a free shuttle to the French Quarter. After setting up, Jim and the rest of the kids made dinner and brownies while Lindsey and I started the laundry. After a delicious dinner of spaghetti, sausages and salad, I whipped up two more chicken dinners so we won’t have to cook after spending a long day enjoying New Orleans Jazz. The rest of the evening was filled with cooking, cleaning, folding laundry, preparing lunches for tomorrow, blogging for me, and math for Jim and the kids. As bedtime neared, Ben and Jim went off to take showers while the girls and I completed the necessary tasks to put the day to bed. All too soon it was past bedtime.

                Now, all around me, my family sleeps. It is quiet here and dark. And since we are paying for our spot, no one is going to ask us to move. Occasionally I hear a train whistle or a plane overhead. But mostly I hear the soft snores of my sleeping family and the occasional nighttime mumbling we have come to expect from Abby. All is quiet, all is dark, and it is time for me to sleep as well. Pleasant dreams.