Memphis

Roger here... It was our first morning at the Tom Sawyer Mississippi River RV Park.  I stumbled out of bed.  Brewing a pot of coffee was uppermost in my mind.  At that point I squinted at the view through our windshield, and lunged for the camera.  Sunrise over the muddy Mississippi --- not the view I expected.  Where is the muddy water?  It looks pink and purple to me.

The day before we departed Paducah, as I was planning our travel, it looked as if the Memphis area would be a logical place to stop for one night.  I was all set for a stay south of town in one of those easy-off, easy-on RV parks.  Before turning off the computer, on a whim, I decided to see if there were any places to stay in West Memphis, Arkansas.  I discovered that the Tom Sawyer RV Park was only a couple miles off the highway.  I had heard of it.  It might be fun to spend a little time on the river and a little time on Beale Street.  We ended up making reservations for three nights.  What luck we had in finding this place.

After the spectacular sunrise, we walked the dogs, gave them breakfast and treats, and drove for fifteen minutes to cross the river.  We entered the city and followed the river to the north.  I wanted to see the pyramid, so we drove there first.  There was not really anything to do there other than snap a picture.  However, by next summer it will be an operating Bass Pro Shop with all kinds of activities.  We will have to come back.

Our next destination was Beale Street, the home of the blues and ribs.  I wanted to experience both.  But first, we found a parking garage that was only a block away, snapped this picture, walked past Beale Street, to find the Peabody Hotel, two blocks away.

I wanted to see the ducks.  Yes, the ducks.  Every day since the 1930s a duck master, yes a duck master, marches five mallard ducks from the rooftop of the hotel into an elevator.  The elevator descends to the lobby level where the ducks waddle on a red carpet to an Italian marble fountain and pool in the middle of the lobby, where they stay until 5:00 p.m.  I kid you not.  No one could make up a story like this.  Much to Dianne's chagrin, we arrived twenty minutes early, but a crowd was already gathering and jockeying for the best position to view the spectacle.

Oh, the excitement!  The mood of the crowd was palpable.  The lady at the left looks like she is about to have an aneurism.  

Ten minutes prior to the march, the duck master moved to the fountain.  He spent some time extolling the truly impressive history of the Peabody Hotel and its famous patrons and guests:  presidents, Justin Timberlake, BB King, and of course Elvis.  Before strolling to the elevator to get the ducks, he let everyone know that the lobby of the Peabody Hotel is the official entrance to the Mississippi River Delta.  We watched the numbers on the elevator as it ascended to the rooftop.  A few minutes later the numbers descended.  Then....

What a hoot!  It really was kinda funny.  We followed the ducks down the red carpet to get a picture of them in their opulent daytime digs.

Here's a link if you'd like to read more about the Peabody Hotel Ducks and their history:
Peabody Hotel Ducks

Back to Beale Street...
Lunchtime is really not party time on Beale Street, but we could still get the flavor of the place.  Right?

Music blared into the street from the BB King Blues Club.  However, I am sure it was recorded and not live.  

I loved all the neon signs.  They were even impressive in full daylight.  Very cool.  

Love, Peace and Chicken Grease.

Dianne is not necessarily a fan of honky tonk places.  She really does not care for New Orleans, so she was a little underwhelmed at Memphis.  I  like it, as expected.  It would be fun to visit again with a group of friends at night.  (If only we could stay awake that long....D).

We were both hungry and it was lunchtime. For us it felt like mid-afternoon because of the recent daylight saving time change and crossing into the Central Time Zone.  It was lunchtime for us, but early for Memphis.  The live music was not playing at Alfred's, but we were hoping for some of the great food.  I was especially hoping for some Memphis ribs.

We were the only customers in the joint.  No ribs that early in the day.  I am not sure how Dianne picked the right minute to snap this picture.  I have a history of very bad photos at restaurants taken by family members.  My girls can all tell you about the infamous photo on the Riverwalk in San Antonio.  (And the hysterical laughter that ensued among the four females in the group -- D.)

Dianne was just a little too happy after she saw the picture of me that she had just snapped.  

Ok then.  I settled on barbecued pulled pork and a locally brewed Ghost River Golden Ale.  I rationalized that it was barbecued ribs, without the bones.  Now this is more like it.

The food was great and so was the beer.  Dianne had a Cajun catfish po-boy with sweet potato fries.  We both ate half our food and took the other half home for supper.

On the way back to the car we stopped at the A. Schwab general store.  Quite an interesting old place with lots of stuff, but nothing we could not live without.  Check out the toilet seats in the window display.  Too bad, we just bought a new one in Colorado.

Back at the RV Park.  Lots of time left in the day.  

We walked off a few calories on the campground trails behind Tom Sawyer's Treehouse.  The dogs were grateful for the hour-long hike.  The rest of the day was spent  watching and photographing the endless parade of barges on the river.  We took too many pictures.  Here are just a few.  

Two barges passing in front of us

Notice the Memphis Bridge and Pyramid above the tree line.

Turbulent wake from the tug boat

Barges at dusk...

Barges at night...

The barges run up and down the river all night long.  

After our full day yesterday, we woke up to cloudy skies and a full day of rain.  The first thing I noticed was that the river is not pink and purple.  It really is muddy brown.

BUT, this really is not too bad.  We can still watch the river traffic from our indoor recliners, and I have time to work on this post while I watch the Colts game that I taped.

The Colts still won, as the media reported.  

Tomorrow?  South to Jackson or Vicksburg, Mississippi.  It depends on how far I want to drive.

The pet picture of the day shows Dianne and the dogs on the hiking trail.

Newmar - Big Chuck's Big Adventure

Sunrise on a foggy morning in Nappanee, Indiana

Well, hello there... Charlie the cat here....  But then you really don't know me, do you?  Mom and Dad always let the smelly dogs post these blogs.  Now it is my turn.  I am mom and dad's 12-year-old cat who used to roam free in Pendleton, Indiana before they sold their house.  I am named after Mom's cousin Charlie.  I was born in his barn on their farm near Mulberry, Indiana.  When Mom's granddaughter (would that make her my niece?), Kaia, picked me up at a family gathering when she was a little girl and I did not scratch her, they took me home and I became a part of their family.  Mom and Dad call me Big Chuck now, probably because I weigh as much as an elephant.  But, I am not as heavy as my smelly sister, Tequila.  

My life has been in turmoil lately.  Allow me to show you my new home.  The opening picture  was taken on a foggy morning near Nappanee, Indiana.  But, did I get to see it?  Noooo!  I was in a crate in the back seat of this car between my two smelly dog siblings. 

This is how it has been.  Last Friday we arrived at this place called Newmar, and all normalcy ended.  At 6:00 a.m. (Yes, six in the morning - still dark, foggy and cold) Mom and Dad put me in my crate and take me to the miniscule car.  They do bring my litter box and food, but my world shrinks from my spacious home on wheels to a tiny car!  Then Dad talks to a guy in a golf cart for a while, and Mom brings the dogs to sit on both sides of me.  Trapped! 

The golf-cart guy drives the motor home away and  we stay away for nine hours before coming back and resuming our normal lives, until the next morning when the alarm goes off at 4:30 and it all starts again.

Mom and Dad seem happy about all this.  They keep talking about how they like the golf-cart guy and the people who work with him.  

The stinky dogs (my siblings) brag about walking twice a day in the pasture across the street.   I could go, too, but I refuse to walk on a leash.  With me it is more like dragging, and I simply refuse.

I am really weary of hearing Dad wax ecstatic about how much progress the golf-cart guy is making with the motor home.  It does not affect me.

- dent in the back where Dad swung into a gas station barrier (clumsy Dad) ... ready for paint. I never see it.

-  new gutter on the side of the roof ...  ready for paint.  Like they would ever let me climb on the roof.

-  new headlights that aren't foggy and yellow...  I am not allowed outside at night so I could care less.

-  automatic steps that work every time... That is actually a good thing because sometimes they do take me outside.

-  a new motor for the awning so we can have shade...  OK, I can deal with that.

- bedroom lights that work all the time... I would rather be alone in the dark.

-  new screen for the door....  The smelly dogs did that, not me.

- a working pocket door next to the bedroom... They think they can keep me out of the bedroom now, but I will just pound on the door until they open it :-).

Dad says that the Newmar Golf Cart guy still has a few things to do, so I guess I will be a captive in the car for a few more days.  Just one more thing before I talk about the very few good times.  I would not mind this nearly as much if Dad would buy a jeep and have it and our motor home painted like the one in the picture below.  After all, I am a cat.  I do have some vanity.

I have to admit that I have had one great day, and another that wasn't too bad, while I was banned from the motor home.  The great day was at Potato Creek State Park.

It was a sunny, warm day.  Some of the trees were turning red.  I remember that from my past life roaming free and rolling in the leaves in our backyard.  We drove by a quiet lake.  Dad stopped the car so mom could take pictures. 

I got to see a two big birds sitting on a log in the water.  It looked like there were two more upside down in the water.  I would have liked to stalk them, but I don't do water.

When we finally parked the car, we were surrounded by these strange people.  Bandido was afraid of them.  Mom and Dad thought they were great.  I just pretended they were not there.

Mom, Dad and my stinky siblings went hiking in the woods for a couple of hours.   It was still cold out but they parked the car in the shade and cracked the windows for me anyway.  They let me out of my crate so I could use the litter box, eat, hide under the seats, and climb on the dashboard to hiss at birds.

When they returned from their walk, we all enjoyed three hours lounging around on the lawn.  By then the sun was out and it was nice and warm.   Even I enjoyed it.  

I had lots of room to play on my expandable leash.

I even had my own tree for sharpening my (nonexistent) claws.



Dad fell asleep while reading his book.  I guess these early mornings are too much for him.

Then he got up and fell asleep again laying on the ground next to Bandido.

Then Tequila licked Dad on the face and woke him up.  PRETTY FUNNY!  Don't let anyone know I have a sense of humor.

The next day was the not-so-bad day.  After a shorter trip in my crate, we arrived at a city park in Goshen, Indiana.  It was a foggy day and a little chilly.  Mom did not want to get out of the car.  Mom does not cope well with imperfect weather.  So Dad and my smelly siblings hiked about four miles along the Pumpkinvine Trail.  It was good to get rid of the stinky dogs, AND I got to spend the time sleeping and purring on Mom's lap while she did Sudoku.  It does not get much better than that.  

Since I am the author of this post, the pet pictures of the day are of ME!

I am the alpha male in this family.

Time for my close-up.

Mom thinks I have pretty green eyes.