Day 16 -- Fort Larned to McPherson, Kansas -- 90 Miles

Well, here I am, sitting in front of my computer, drinking my Dodge City Sarsaparilla, and just trying to remember what we did here in central Kansas to use up a whole day and only make 90 miles. Oh, wait. I remember now.

You may remember that last night we stayed in a municipal camp (photo left) located just a couple of miles down the road from our afternoon stop at Fort Larned, Kansas, where we had such a good time learning about the lives of the frontier horse soldiers back in the late 1800s.

Our camp was constructed back in 1930 thru the joint efforts of several community organizations in the town of Larned, located just a couple of miles further up the road, including the Rotary Club, the Lions Club, and the Boy Scouts of America. Back then they called the grassy area Pawnee for its proximity to the Pawnee River, and they planted trees, built picnic areas, and layed out a couple of miles of nature walks. In more recent times the town of Larned added a dozen RV pads complete with water and electrical for those traveling folks who might want to stay the night. The park, called Pawnee Camp, was far enough off the highway to allow you to enjoy the peacefulness of the setting.

Enter the Davis family RV dragging a seriously dislocated exhaust pipe. Though it might have proven more serious without the help of a fellow camper, the exhaust pipe problem turned out to be no big deal. We just needed a power hacksaw and a length of Bungie Cord.

Thanks to the fact that we were only one of two rigs in the whole park, our evening and sleeping hours were the ultimate in tranquility. This morning, having rested completely, we were anxious to get on the road again since the previous day we'd only driven 64 miles. Even though most people agree it's the journey, not the destination, we did have a date in Kansas City to spend some time with my old shipmate before he flies the coop for his own upcoming RV vacation.

Pawnee Camp does not have sewer hookups, you may remember, but they do have a dump station which we made use of on our way out.

Our next stop, we had already decided, was the Santa Fe Trail museum which was supposed to be located somewhere nearby. Turned out it was just a mile down the road, so our initial trek eastward didn't last long. But we did have a good time at the museum. Though it didn't concentrate enough on the Sante Fe Trail to please me, there were aspects of the museum experience that I thoroughly enjoyed. As many museum settings have done in recent times, the museum supporters have arranged for endangered buildings from around the area to be moved to the museum grounds for protection. We were especially interested in visiting the sod house, which we had not experienced before. They also had a hillside dugout home, which I personally wanted to see very much since my mother's mother was born in one near Cleveland, Utah.

We got to see a great variety of exhibits, both inside and around the grounds. My favorites were the horse-drawn freight wagons since it's my area of study right now. They had a railroad station, a school house, and a log cabin outdoors. And they had a couple of warehouses full of vehicles, which included several decades worth of automobiles, and a great many pieces of farm machinery, most of which we couldn't identify. The tan car to the right is a Roosevelt, a car you don't see very often.

After spending our morning at the museum we really needed to get serious about finding someone to help with a permanent solution to the rig's tailpipe problem. My plan was to continue heading east in the general direction of McPherson, but watch for a welding shop or street-side mechanic that I could talk into an hour's work for a reasonable fee. But we drove through several small towns, sometimes going in circles, but nothing appeared to be open. I was beginning to get worried since I knew the Bungie Cord would eventually burn through and we would go back to having a problem.

Finally, in the town of Lyons, we stopped at the edge of an ACE Hardware parking lot. By then I had decided to fix the darn thing myself. I went inside and discussed the problem with the first available sales person and together we came back outside, measured the distance between the tailpipe and the bracket, then retreated back inside to see what they had that could be used to attach the flippy-floppy tailpipe end to the stationary, but now useless, bracket which is welded to the frame. My new friend, the ACE Hardware guy, and I walked up and down aisles looking for just the perfect solution, and he made several suggestions. But in the end I chose an ultra sturdy piece of cable, normally used to lock up bicycles, since it had two loops at the cable ends. I figured those loops might be very helpful if I also purchased a very large bolt, two flat washers, one lock washer, a beefy nut, and then put the whole thing together into a nice composite after wrapping the six feet of bicycle cable around the stationary bracket and then around the tailpipe (see last photo on the page).

Turns out that my design seems to work perfectly and we may just leave it like that until we return home. I am a tad concerned that the missing two feet of tailpipe, whose job it was to direct carbon monoxide OUTSIDE the confines of the rig, might cause CO2 to get into the interior while we are driving, but so far that hasn't been the case.

Once the tailpipe problem was fixed and we had some lunch compliments of the ACE Hardware parking lot, we then went in search of a Walmart as we needed groceries. I also I wanted someone in the Walmart's tire section to check the pressure in all seven tires, especially the right rear dualies which definitely looked like they held less air then the left side. I could, of course, check this myself, but I wouldn't be able to remedy the situation should that be required.

Thankfully, Walmart proved way easy to find and before long Concetta was scooping up veggies inside while I sweet-talked one of the tire jockeys into checking all my tires and bringing them all up to spec. Turned out that I was wrong, by the way, and all the tires were within two or three pounds of each other except the spare which the very helpful youngster topped up for me. I offered to pay Walmart for the service. I even offered to tip the young lad who helped. But they turned me down on both requests. Funny thing was, who should I spend time with while I waited for the tires to be checked, but a local guy who was a good welder. Had it not been so late in the day by then, I probably could have hired him on the spot to fix the tailpipe. Oh, well, sometimes life is like that.

So, though we had accomplished precious little today, and had spent most of our time searching for things we couldn't find, we were determined to make a few miles before we slept. So, once the groceries were loaded we set out in an easterly direction on Route 56/96 toward either McPherson or Hutchinson, Kansas, whichever happened to offer as a good camp for the night.

When it turned out that Hutchinson had only the fairgrounds to offer campers, we decided to stay in McPherson since it claimed to have a great site just on the eastern fringe of town. Well, once in McPherson we unleashed the aid of our brand new GPS and the little magic brain told us, in essence, "No problem. I'm on it." So it was, that fifteen minutes later the brain told us we were arriving at the desired address. We looked, but only a vacant field met our gaze. So we drove down the road a fair distance and into a church parking lot. There we reprogrammed the brain and set off again. This time we got to see the vacant, weed-covered field from a new direction. But no RV park was in evidence.

At this point we decided that the Good Sam book must have listed the address incorrectly and we called the park to obtain the correct one. But the voice at the other end of the line told us, "No, you have the correct address. All you have to do is drive further east then your GPS is advising and you'll see us."

"Great," I said. "We'll give that a try."

"Only one problem," the voice said, "we're full up. Not a single space open."

I starred at the phone in disbelief for a moment, then I said, "Well, can you recommend another park?"

"Only ones I know are on First Street," he said, "and there's another one on Kansas Street."

I thanked him and rang off. I looked at my watch. It was already after 4:00 p.m. and Hutchinson was probably twenty miles away at least. "Guess we have to try and find one of the two he suggested," I said.

Concetta agreeed, and so off we went in search of First street. We had already seen the numbered streets when we arrived in town, and knew about where to search. But we still wandered a bit before we stumbled over the park on First Street. Oddly, the park was bounded by both First AND Kansas streets, so the guy at the RV park to whom we had spoken on the phone didn't realize that there was, in reality, only one park.

It was at this point that Concetta remembered having read about our intended camping place on First Street. "It gets a rating from past users that runs from dismal to totally unacceptable," she said.

Still, since we had very little choice, we went ahead and pulled into what turned out to be called the "Mustang Properties" RV resort and went in search of a vacant space. We saw no office as we wandered the park, so at one point I just stopped opposite a parked 5th-wheel and went up and knocked.

The chap who answered the door told us where to pay if we wanted to stay and we rolled over there only find it closed. So, we went back to where I'd talked to 5th-wheel guy, selected a spot nearby, and went ahead and got set up. Later we walked down to the office, wrote a check, then dropped it in the provided night slot. Hopefully the manager will put two and two together and figure it all out.

And there you have it. Since we're on the northern edge of the RV park, and all the very best places have been usurped by long-term residents, we have a front-row seat for whatever drag racing goes on this evening on First Street. We've already seen a half dozen contenders warming up so far. But other then that, the water, electricity, and sewer seem to work normally. The cable TV is non-functional, though I tried hooking into the connection next door as well as our own. But who wants to watch political commentary anyway?

Tomorrow we plan on drifting down to Hutchinson after we do some laundry. We read there's a cool salt mine you can visit down there. But for now, the tail pipe is fixed, the rig is gassed up, the tires are happy, and we've stocked up on food. What more could you ask? So, in closing, I wish you Happy Traveling!