Because of thunderstorm and high wind warnings, we decided to head north to the town of Poplar Bluff, Missouri and booked a site for 2 nights at the one and only RV park in the area. Upon arrival, we were greeted by a very unkempt man in a dirty undershirt who told us to follow him to our site. Now, this may be the local hot spot for camping in summer, but in April there were exactly 3 other campers there. So where did Billy-Bob take us? To a lot which left the RV at an upward tilt and the car at a 45 degree angle in back. I could hear the poor tow bars groaning in protest. He then proceeded to give us an in depth lecture on how to plug into the electrical box and turn on the water. Maybe these were new-fangled modern improvements for him and he wanted to make sure we furriners knew how to use them. We gave him all our attention.
Naturally we told him we wanted a different lot and asked if we could just move to the next one over, which was level. This threw the poor man into such confusion that he was barely able to function. After a few minutes, he retreated to the office, to discuss the matter with higher authority. He then informed us that we could not stay on the other lot for 2 nights, as requested, because someone else had already reserved it (why is anybody's guess). I then asked if we could move to any other of the 100 or so empty lots in the park, and he lost it. That required decision-making way beyond his pay grade. So, we had to follow him back to the park office where we met the charming Lula-Mae.
Now Lula-Mae and Billy-Bob had a grand total of 6 teeth between them - all in varying shades of black, grey or green. Lula-Mae was dumbfounded that we wanted to move. Since the car and RV together total almost 50 feet, I suggested she let us have a lot on the flats, right next to another large RV. She then told us that those large lots were reserved for big busloads of people who apparently descend on Poplar Bluff in droves at random intervals and without prior notice. It remains a mystery as to why so many people feel the need to go there and sleep in buses, since we couldn't even find a restaurant within 5 miles of the place. It's almost certain they don't come for the dental work. Anyhow.....
After checking with the park owner, she finally agreed to let us use the big pull-thru lot but she made it very clear that there would be "no more moves". Billy-Bob then led us back there and gave us another run-down on how to plug in and turn on the water.
In the 2 days we stayed there, no other campers came in and we were not swarmed by busloads of people arriving in Poplar Bluff for an impromptu vacation of a lifetime.
Lucky for us, the weather cleared and we headed for Terry Haute, IN, where we were greeted with warm cookies and a petting zoo. We won't be heading back to Poplar Bluff anytime soon.
Saturday, 4 April 2015
And lo, it came to pass that the great god of the tribe called Snowbirds – the allmighty US Internal Revenue Service – did decree that those wandering in the deserts of the southern US should return to their own country lest they exceed their 182 day maximum stay and incur the wrath of the tax man. And so, in March, the great northern Snowbird migration began.
We left on March 30th, heading north to San Antonio. Amazingly, in less than 100 miles, the drivers all stopped being psychotic, suicidal maniacs and the driving became quite pleasant. Not a single one of them stopped suddenly and threw his car into reverse. I guess that must be a Mission thing.
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