... to NFSP we go!
That would be Natural Falls State Park in West Siloam Springs, Oklahoma, and this would be our first camping trip of the year. It's a short, three-night excursion to bike the new-to us Dogwood Springs Trail, a previous favorite, the Blowing Springs Greenway, and possibly some other section(s) of the massive Razorback Regional Greenway.
I was very proud of myself yesterday. Our plan was for me to drive while Scott worked, as he has a number of upcoming ministry meetings, presentations, and events to prepare for. He is a better driver than I am, especially in heavy traffic, but I do fine on the open road and even when pulling the camper.
Google said our drive would take about 2.5 hours, most of it on Highway 412. I must say -- and have probably mentioned in the past -- that that run from Alpena to Huntsville is one of my very favorite stretches of pavement anywhere. The scenery is just SO gorgeous!
A friend of ours was surprised recently to hear that I was planning to pull the camper. He and his wife have a camper much like ours and their tow vehicle is quite similar to Thomas, but he said his wife would NEVER pull their camper. Well, Scott's wife will. = ) There are a number of things I can't or won't do, but I can pull the camper, and in general, I'd rather be a driver than a passenger. Unless, of course, we're going through Cowell, but that's another story.
We'd planned to leave home around 2:30 PM, after Scott's 12:00-1:30 Zoom meeting and lunch. Following a bit of frustration and delay around our misplaced brake controller... (NOTE: I refuse to pull the camper without it, it wasn't in Thomas' console where my "Where is it?" list said it was, and when Scott finally found it on his shelf in the dining room(?!?), I realized that I was the only one who could have put it there. [insert embarrassed sigh]). Anyway, we got under way at 2:47 PM, which was commendable.
As we approached Springdale, Scott said he thought it would be best if we switched drivers. He said it nicely, but given that we were pulling a 30-foot trailer and didn't have any wide-angle mirrors (that's also another story), he basically said he preferred to drive through town, given that there would be curbs, stoplights, and heavier stop-and-go traffic. He was right, of course, and I acquiesced. But in order to change drivers, I'd need to find a place to stop; ideally some place:
- that was on the right side of the road,
- had with a pull-through that didn't involve tight turning,
- provided good visibility for oncoming traffic (i.e., not on a curve or partway up or down a hill),
- and had a long enough shoulder for us to get back up to speed and merge into traffic.
Well, places like that are usually called churches or empty parking lots, so that's what I was looking for. We were also almost down to a quarter of a tank of gas, my standard fill-up point, so in lieu of a church or empty parking lot, a large gas station or truck stop (Buc-ee's anyone?) would also be a fine possibility.
I wasn't seeing anything. Now, there may have been something and my proud desire to drive the whole thing myself may have come into play, but for purposes of this blog post, we'll just say that I didn't see any ideal spot to pull over. Which was true.
So in the end, I ended up driving through Springdale with its 47 stoplights, 80% of which were red, and I think it took over 30 minutes to go some 10 miles. But we DID it, and I felt very competent and proud of myself. And when I next see our friend, I may even mention that I pulled the camper for three hours, including through metropolitan Springdale, and at rush hour, no less!
Or I may not.
There is Proverbs 16:18 to contend with.
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