Saratoga Springs

by

Saratoga Springs To (Almost) New Jersey

I’m at the last rest area before the New York Thruway ends in New Jersey and I will be shooting west towards Hazleton, PA. My ETA is early for a Walmart, so I’m taking a long charging/lunch break here.

I forgot that I didn’t tow in the spring (LOL) so I was a bit taken aback that my Thruway toll was $20.80!

It was beyond bitter cold in Saratoga last night, dipping to at least -10C. There was a rime of frost over my vehicles this morning. Even if my batteries were behaving properly, I could never have kept the rig at a comfortable temperature all night. I instead did the long johns + tons of blankets + two CAT heaters method of getting through the night. I read till about 10:30PM then slept soundly till six (an excellent night for me). I switched the electric blanket on for a bit (it draws 3A), then waited for day break to turn the furnace on to warm the rig enough to make getting underway a non-excruciating event.

I don’t like to have breakfast right away at any time, so it made sense to just dress and go, then stop for breakfast at a rest area. I left the door to the cab from the house closed so that I could get heat while driving.

There was a lot of traffic between Saratoga and the Thruway, then barely any. If there aren’t been so much construction, it would have been a thoroughly forgettable and easy drive. My destination for today is the Walmart in St Clair PA. Tomorrow, I’ll aim for a Walmart in Fredericksburg. And Sunday, I should make it to Hampton Roads by early afternoon.

I know that RV specialists are going to scoff at what I’m going to say next and give me 50 billion reasons why what I’m saying breaks the law of physics or something, but having a toad makes the whole rig steadier. When I was driving around without the toad, my rear end swayed something fierce and the RV felt like it was bouncing up and down the highway. Now that I have a toad again, the driving feels much smoother and I’m not getting blown as easily into the shoulder when being passed by a big rig.

I stopped at another rest area to check the state of my batteries. The solar charger was registering a full charge at 13 volts and change. The battery monitor agreed that I had 13 volts and change but said that I was at only 77% capacity. The inverter turned on (not connected to anything), told me it was reading 13 volts and change, screeched, and turned itself off, just like the old one did when it was trying to handle too big a load (I was drawing on a couple of amps from the fridge). I turned on the RV engine and all three monitors reflected 14 volts and change, confirming for me that there is nothing wrong with the connection between the house batteries and the mechanism that allows me to charge while driving.

So it looks like everything is working as it should except for the most crucial part of my system, the batteries. They are more than four years old, have been subjected to extremes in temperature, and have low amp hours. My experiment is complete. New batteries are in order.

The wifi on the Thruway isn’t working today; I tried to get on with my iPad at every one. I’m now on my computer using my cellular connection. There was a man sitting next to me here and he asked me how the frell I managed to get online and that he had tried at every rest area so that he could sign up for work tomorrow. It was a bit more of a sob story than that, but nothing I haven’t heard out of the US in the last few years. I turned on wifi sharing and asked for his phone. It refused to connect to my network, but my iPod had no trouble. So I kept his phone and handed him the iPod. He spent all of five minutes doing what he needed, handed me back the iPod, and said in a choked voice, “I made the deadline to sign up for work tomorrow! Thank you! God bless! Happy holidays!”

I can’t tell you the number of times before I got internet on the road that I wished a random stranger would share their connection with me. I was so happy to be able to do this today for him. Macs rock!

by

Uneventful Drive Down I-87 To Saratoga Springs

It was a perfect day for a drive, clear with few cars on the road. Except when she was stuck behind some impossibly slow rigs or was climbing a grade, Miranda effortlessly matched the speed limit. I could only feel the truck behind me when I slowed down or was climbing a hill. I need to measure my new rig, but, truly, it doesn’t feel any longer or more unwieldy than my old one! My gas consumpition was normal for a day going up and down grades!

Just ahead of the last area before Saratoga Springs, a long column of white cars appeared in my view screen. They roared past me and I saw that they were US Border Patrol vehicles. They merged in between myself and another rig plated in Quebec that was closely followed another Quebec-plated rig. The two Quebec vehicles pulled into the rest area and the border patrol vehicles followed suit. There were no lights or anything, but it was the darnedest thing to see as they appeared to be on a mission.

One exit before the raceway, I was running on a quarter tank of fuel when I noticed a sign saying ‘truck stop.’ I figured that I’d be able to find a gas station where I could get in easily with my toad, and I did.

At the raceway, I tucked myself into the far end of the parking lot, much like I did last time. There are a lot more cars here this time, however.

I called Verizon to reactivate my phone to get internet and then realised that I’d need wifi to get online, like I did in the spring. My GPS told me where was a McDonald’s fairly close by, but was useless at providing a neighbourhood map that would set me off in the right direction on foot. I set off in a couple of directions, easily covering the distance to the restaurant, and each time my GPS told me I was going the wrong way.

Even though I’d truly had enough toad excitement for one day, I unhooked the truck and drove around a bit until I found the McDonald’s, which was ludicrously close by. It almost wasn’t worth it to have unhooked except that I would have come home in the dark.

There, I downloaded the Lion version of the VZAccess Manager and then tried to connect. No dice. I called Verizon back and when I finally got to a live person, he informed me that the first guy I spoke to forgot to authorize use of my cell phone as a modem. I hung up with him, restarted my phone, and tried the internet again. It worked!

I drove home in the growing darkness and then spent a very frustrating 15 minutes or so trying to hook my truck up. It’ll go much more smoothly as I gain experience with the tow bar… and hook up while not completely exhausted.

The disappointing news of the day is that my battery bank is not working properly. I haven’t even tried my new inverter setup yet because my batteries are so low.

I unhooked from shore power on Monday and had a full charge on Tuesday morning, but haven’t had one since then. I really should have plugged back in. What happened is that I thought the propane was on, but it wasn’t, and the furnace kicked on for hours, completely draining the battery before I caught the mistake. It’s been pretty overcast since, I spent all of yesterday in a garage, and I didn’t drive enough today to get a full charge. At this point, I can’t tell if my problem is just that I need a charge or if I screwed up somewhere in my wiring and actually have a problem.

My battery monitor says that I’m at about 80% charge with a voltage in the high elevens, (which goes to show that voltage tells you nothing about the state of your batteries), and that I could run at my current amp draw for about 24 hours. Unfortunately, my current amp draw is just the fridge. As soon as I turn on the furnace, my fridge goes haywire. Forget running the water pump or even an LED light. It’s getting chilly, so I predict I’ll be going to bed early with the electric blanket. I’m not even going to bother to have my batteries load tested. As soon as I can get a deal on a good pair of Trojans with more amp hours, I’ll be switching. I should not be shivering my first night back on the road.

Tomorrow will be the hardest day of the drive south as I’ll be heading onto the New York Thruway. After that, it should be fairly smooth sailing. I do need to find a place to overnight between St Clair PA and Hampton Roads as I want to arrive at my destination in daylight. ETA at this point is Sunday afternoon.

by

Nothing But Respect For US Customs

My mother had time to make crêpes this morning, which felt like a proper send off and left me optimistic that I would get to Saratoga Springs tonight. I pulled out at about 9:00 and was waiting in line at customs by 9:55. It took about 10 minutes to get to the booth.

I got the same kind of customs agent as I did in 2011, one for whom even the most straightforward story would not make sense. “It doesn’t sound like you work.” “Driving through the US to get home makes no sense.” “Spending time with a friend over the holidays makes no sense.” “You see that green arrow that says secondary inspection? Go there, park, and go inside. Your documents will be waiting.”

My initial reaction was disbelief that I would have to go through what I went through in 2011 once again.

Then I realised that they had pulled over all the RVs and that the folks ahead of me had five yippy dogs. This meant customs wouldn’t go into their rig and they would get an extra grilling. If I stayed the course, kept my story as simple as possible, and emphasized that I had plenty of money of money for a few months in the US and that I was heading home, I suspected that I would get through in record time.

I was right. I had to expand on my story a couple of times, adding more details, until the agent literally threw up her hands, sighed, and said, “You’ve been asked these questions before; right?” Mm-hmm. “Never been denied entry?” Nope. She shook her head, handed me a slip of paper marked ‘cleared’ and said, “Just go.” I was out in less than five minutes.

I was getting back into the RV when another agent came up to me and asked me where I was going. I said I’d been cleared and he replied, “Not by me.” I wish text could convey tone because this guy was in a great mood and just going through the motions. I felt so comfortable that I actually replied, “Oh, you must be the fruit guy!” instead of, “Oh, you must mean the agricultural inspection!” He burst out laughing.

He asked if I had pets and I replied my cats. He then asked me to come inside with him to watch out for them. Every other inspection, I’ve had to wait well away from the rig.

Bitha and Nee’s papers are not up to date. Because of their age, vaccines are not recommended. I’ve never been asked for their paperwork and decided to take a chance. Well, the subject came up for the first time. He said, as he poked around the kitchen, “I’ve never heard of anyone being asked for papers for their cats. Are yours pretty old?” I replied that they were and he said the same thing the vet told me, that vaccinating older cats is bad for them! Then he said that anyone who would expect me to have them vaccinated to get across the border would be a ‘jerk.’

He finally opened my fridge and gasped. “Your relish jar exploded,” he informed me sadly. What is it with me and condiments?!

He cleared me for agriculture and then that’s when everything went to hell in the proverbial handbasket. You were expecting the other shoe to drop, weren’t you?

I’d had to unhook to park because there was so little room to park everyone. I was given the option not to, but I wanted to be as cooperative as possible. I don’t know if I was flustered and missed a step or what, but I could not get the e-brake back off the truck to move it into position to tow. It was cold and the agriculture agent guessed that it had seized up because of the weather. He got in and did something and got the e-brake working smoothly again. Then, he and another agent asked me to get my tow setup manual and helped me hook back up properly. I’m telling you, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to hook up your tow bar for the first time while being assisted by US Customs Agents!

More later. I can’t get online with my cell phone without access to wifi first, so I’m at the McDonald’s doing that. I’ll write about my trip to Saratoga later.

by

Saratoga Springs, NY, to Chambly, QC

I had a slow morning at Saratoga Springs. The cats certainly were in no rush to go anywhere:

I enjoyed my quiet little corner of the raceway parking lot:

I backed right into a corner, just because I could:

The raceway was a long ways away:

I got the rig as squared away as I could and took off around 10. I was really impressed with the signage right at the Jefferson Street exit. It was certainly more helpful than my GPS, who told me to navigate to such and such a street:

I meandered my way to I-87 north and got off two exits later to take highway 50 north to Saratoga RV Park. Their dump fee is $20 and it’s just that, a dump fee. There is no potable water for filling an RV holding tank. They also sell propane and it cost $50 to fill the on board tank. Propane is the only thing I’ve found to be much cheaper in Canada than the US; this price would be exorbitant in Whitehorse, but was cheaper than in Washington State. That sure was an easy $70 for these very nice people!

Before heading back on the road, I parked the rig to the side so I could change into a nicer skirt (I’d worn grubbies to dump!). In a moment of perfect timing, the phone rang. It was the adjuster from Aviva wanting to let me know that the cheque was in the mail. She also asked me when I’m getting the other repairs done and I asked her to please give me a few days to breathe and think about this when I get to Montreal, a place I wasn’t at yet. I told her I’ll be filing my reimbursement claims shortly.

From the RV park, I was able to continue on highway 50 north to I-87, so the RV park wasn’t really a detour. It didn’t take long to reach the scenic and isolated Adirondacks. It is a rather long stretch after Saratoga Springs before you reach civilization again in Plattsburgh and you have to go through the scenic Lake George region.

I was amused when we started to hit the bilingual signs. Quebec does have some bilingual signage near the border, but the English is in tiny print, as per the law, while the French on the US signs is the same size as the English.

I’m always amazed by how quickly the landscape changes before Plattsburgh. One minute, you are surrounded by towering trees and the next you are in open cultivated land full of neat orchards.

It was going on 2:00 when I hit Plattsburgh for lunch. It was a bit of an emotional stop in that the last time I ate at the Applebee’s there was with my dad in late 2006. He was having a rare good day in his final stages of terminal colon cancer and we were on what turned out to be our last road trip together, just a quick border run, because he got tired so easily. I remember so clearly our discussion that day, with him making me promise that I would from then on make changes that would make me happy rather than satisfy other people in my life. Little did we know that less than two years later, I would be setting off on a great adventure. But I digress.

The border was nearly upon me, but I had one more stop to make after lunch. I pulled off in Champlain to get half a tank of gas, at a whopping $4.03 a gallon, the worst I’ve seen on this trip! A fill would have been $200, which is still cheaper than anywhere in Canada right now.

The knots in my stomach tightened when I reached the point of no return:

Left: Canada. Right: last US exit

It’s amazing how returning to my own country is more stressful than entering another one.

Croft asked in a comment if I was planning to cross in French or English. This was something that I debated and I finally decided to let the guard’s accent answer the question for me. I got a woman with a very thick accent when she spoke English. So I decided to cross over in French.

I was asked how long I was in the US, the purpose for my trip, how I met my friend in Virginia, and if I owned the motorhome. Then I got asked a question I could not answer and I froze: what was my license plate number? The car and the rig are one number apart and I can never remember which is which. I was just about to offer to jump out and check when the officer asked if I had my registration on hand. Oh, yeah. Duh. I got the right papers out and told her. She ran the plate number then asked the value of the goods I’d bought, if I had booze, drugs, or personal weapons on board. And that was it. The last time I had an easy clearing like that was back in 2005! I’ve been grilled harder coming back from a Walmart run! WOOHOO!!!!

From the border, it was just 45  minutes to my mother’s. I arrived, got level, and accepted a cold beer! That and getting the bike out of the living room were the only things I planned to do tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll deal with getting some water on board, plugging me in, and getting me hard wired to the internet.

The drive today was really difficult and I am exhausted! It was windy, but I also think my suspension needs to be looked at. I started to notice that the roads felt really rough well before my accident, so I’m sure the issue is not related to it, but it seems worse now that I don’t have the toad. I just find that I’m bouncing a lot more and hearing things shift around in the rig. Tioga George just got some Bilstein shocks installed and I’m hoping that a simple cure like that is all that’s needed. It just seems that if I don’t have a perfectly smooth road I’m more bouncing than rolling down the highway and having a lot of side to side movement. I just did some quick research and it doesn’t sound like I have a major or unusual problem, but I’m astounded by how differently the rig handles solo!

Finally, I want to, again, raise both my middle fingers to the guy who honked at me for going 5 miles below the speed limit on a narrow, twisty road and to the guy at the shopping plaza in Plattsburgh who honked at me because I wasn’t turning fast enough for him. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!

And I would like to end by quoting T.S. Eliot:

We shall not cease from exploration. And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

I have complained bitterly about how rude and rash are Quebec drivers. But having just traveled the breadth of the United States, I have to say that Quebec drivers were a breath of fresh air. After weeks of having the cars behind me whip around me at a highway on ramp, making it impossible for me to merge, it was a breath of fresh air to have the column of cars behind me wait patiently while I got over safely. And then I got caught on autoroute 10 in construction and traffic (its usual state) and everyone gave me my space and made sure I had enough room to change lanes. Merci beaucoup!