19
May
14

Campsite #4

I left Pere Marquette State Park last Friday.  My hope had been to be across Missouri and somewhere west of Topeka by nightfall.  Things didn’t go as planned, but they never do.  I forget who said it, whether it be Napoleon or the Duke of Wellington, but he said, “It is a bad plan which cannot be changed.”  Something to that effect anyway.

There is an electrical hookup which connects my truck to my camper.  It allows the turn signals, lights and brakes on the trailer to function along with the truck’s lights and brakes.  Inside the truck’s cab, the trailer brake controller will indicate if the trailer’s brakes are connected or not.  The indication I got was they were not.  I fussed with them for about an hour and realized I just was not going to get those trailer brakes to work.

Finding a professional to work on them seemed the next logical step, so I asked the campground host at Pere Marquette if he knew a place in the area where I could get them fixed.  He gave me two suggestions.  One in Illinois, not headed in the direction I had planned on going, and one in St Louis, Missouri which was right on the highway I had planned to take west.  I like no-brainer decisions like that.

The place I took them to was called Apache Village.  Apache Village is a large RV dealership located on Interstate 270 in St Louis.  They put a guy on the task right away.  It took him about an hour to isolate and fix the problem and get me back on the road.

I had given myself three full days to get to my next stop and I had just burned one getting the trailer brakes repaired, so I had some driving to do over the next two days to get where I wanted to be.  I had eleven hundred miles or 1760 kilometers to go.  I took my time, stopping often and arrived at campsite#4 yesterday afternoon.

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I learned something about the American west also during the drive here.

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When I first spotted Pike’s Peak, I thought I was looking at a cloud bank, until I realized clouds don’t generally start from the ground.  I drove toward this peak for an hour before stopping to take this picture.  I’m certain I still had an hour to drive before I would have reached them, but I wasn’t going there so I don’t know.

I’ve driven in the Appalachian Mountains on the east coast, but their highest peak is about six thousand feet or two thousand meters lower than Pike’s Peak.  Pike’s Peak has the distinction of being the first western mountain I’ve ever seen.  I have since driven deeper into the Rocky Mountains and am currently camped somewhere in the great American west.

There will be more.

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2 Responses to “Campsite #4”


  1. 1 joel
    May 19, 2014 at 10:40 am

    welcome flat lander 🙂

  2. 2 Randy Roberts
    May 19, 2014 at 1:39 pm

    I’ll take that because ‘sconsin has no mountains, but we aren’t considered flat landers.


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