Well, are you?  Pro Football?  No, not the NFL.  College Football?  No, Not that either. 

I'm talking the REAL football.  Pee Wee football. 

Specifically, I'm talking the Mighty Jordan Maroon Gremlins football. 

What could be more fun that watching 8 and 9-year olds first learning the game?  Yes, it's true, I am interested only because my oldest son is playing.  Otherwise I'd be cheering for the New York Giants and Syracuse Orange to win. 

This football season, however, I'm all about the maroon and silver of the Jordan Maroon Gremlins.  Chris is the starting tight end.  He wears number 91.  Yes, for those of you who know football you know this is not a tight end number, it is a defensive lineman's number.  Again, that's the beauty of Pee Wee football.  To put on a uniform with a number on it and play is enough.

This is his first season of playing organized football.  He is only eight years old and most of the kids on his team are nine.  Yet he is playing well enough to be a two-way player, starting at tight end on offense and cornerback on defense.  He is also the kicker.  The video clip above is a short highlight reel of Chris. 

You could say I'm one of 'THOSE' parents who likes to brag up their kids accomplishments. 
Or you could say I'm one of those parents who values spending time with my son, sharing his passions, recording them for us to share again, to pass along to him when he is older and perhaps wants to show his own children what he did when he was young.  Just like my dad did with me those many long years ago, when he coached my ice hockey and little league baseball teams.

Sure, I think my son has some talent.  Best player on the field?  No.  Best player on his team?  No.  A hard-working kid with a true love of the game?  Absolutely. 

Unfortunately the score of Saturday's game was not what we wanted - Copper Hills defeated the Jordan Maroon Gremlins 19-0.  But we have eight more games to play.  Most importantly, he had fun.

Stay tuned each week for updates on the adventures of the Jordan Maroon Gremlins and the play of #91.

Are you a Tractor Guy? 

. 

I mean a REAL tractor guy - the kind of guy that sees an old tractor in a field while out for a drive in the country, and has to stop the car and walk out into the field to take a closer look? 

If this is you, I've found your Nirvana.  Your Mecca.  Your Santa's Workshop at the North Pole. 

It's Crosby, North Dakota. 

Where?  Yes, you read that correctly.  Crosby, North Dakota.

You've never been there, have you?  You've never even heard of it.  Why would you?.  When people describe a place as remote, they usually say "It's in the middle of nowhere."  Crosby is so remote, it's not in the middle of nowhere, it's at a point so far away the middle of nowhere looks like New York City.  I had never been this far from anywhere either, until I went to North Dakota to buy a farm. 

This is a modern day tractor, working on my farmland in Williams County, North Dakota.  When I think tractor, this is what I think of.  But I digress.

Crosby, North Dakota is a town of 1,201 people, give or take a couple.  It is in Divide County, the far northwestern corner of North Dakota.  Hard against the Canadian border, unassuming Crosby is the county seat of Divide County.

This is the Divide County Courthouse.  It's a very nice building.  In fact, it is the most impressive building in Crosby, and probably the nicest building in all of Divide County.  Of course, there isn't much competition.  So you're no doubt asking yourself a couple of questions as you read this.  Why is this guy writing about Crosby, North Dakota?  Why would anyone go there?  What is there in Crosby, North Dakota, that anyone would care about?

The photo above is downtown Crosby.  The anchor store is Hardware Hank's.  That pretty much tells you there ain't much goin' on in Crosby. 

This next photo is the other side of the main drag in downtown Crosby.  This makes Hank's place look pretty darn good!  Where are all the people, you're asking?  I would have asked the same question when I was there, but I couldn't find anyone to ask.

But what does all this have to do with tractors?

Well, in addition to being the home of the Divide County Fair (which makes sense, as Crosby is the county seat), visitors to Crosby might accidentally stumble upon a lot that is full of old tractors.

When I say accidentally stumble upon, what I really mean is that if you happen to find yourself in Crosby, North Dakota, you almost can't help NOT finding this tractor lot.  It's right off one of the two main entrances to town off North Dakota Highway 5.  And if you've driven on North Dakota Highway 5 in this part of North Dakota, you'll probably want to stop in Crosby just in the hopes of seeing another human being.

Right off the entrance to Crosby from North Dakota Highway 5, on your left as you drive into town, you'll see a lot full of old tractors.  I never did find out who owned the lot, and I spent about 45 minutes wandering around taking photographs.  Nobody came out to ask me what I was doing, nobody even drove by during the entire time I was there.

For the record, I am not a Tractor Guy.  But I am a drawn to unique visuals, and this tractor lot in the middle of Nowhere, umm, excuse me, Crosby, North Dakota, drew me in.  I was very interested in the old tractors, particularly the details like the one above.



I wondered about the tractors as I walked around the deserted lot.  Who owned them?  How old were they?  Who were the people who first bought them so many years ago, when they were shiny and brand new?  What fields did they work, what crops did they harvest, what families did they help to feed?  What circumstances led to their ending up here, on a seemingly abandoned lot in Crosby?

Unfortunately, there was no one around to tell me.

In addition to the tractors, there were a few old trucks that looked well worn.  I wondered if they still ran.  This one looked like it was waiting for someone to come out, hop in the cab, fire up the engine, turn on the country music station and head off down some remote rural road.

So if you're a tractor guy, and I mean a real, die-hard, crusty old tractor guy, Crosby North Dakota is a place you have to visit.  You won't have to worry about someone coming along and buying the tractor of your dreams out from under you before you can get here.  There doesn't seem to be much of a demand for these old beauties.  Nor, for that matter, does there appear to be anyone around to sell one to you.  So you'll have plenty of time to stroll the lot, examining each tractor in painstaking detail.  You can sit up on the seat and look out, imagining a golden field of what in front of you, waiting for you to bring the harvest in.

Somewhere, an old farmer is looking down and smiling. 

Too bad there's no one in Crosby to share that smile with you!

Let's get one thing straight right from the start.  I'm a city kid.  To be more precise, I'm a suburb kid.  Have been my whole life.  I've never lived more than 15 miles from an Interstate Highway.  I-81, I-80, I-15, I-64.  Never lived more than 20 miles from an airport where you can catch a commercial flight to a city you've actually heard of.  Oh, I've lived in some 'small' towns - Great Falls, Montana; Reno, Nevada; Sparta, NJ.  But I've never lived in the true boonies, places where you had to drive 20 miles or more to go to a grocery store or a McDonalds. 

Don't get me wrong, I've got nothing against Rural - it's just that my family never had cause to find ourselves in a rural setting. 

So how is it that I find myself driving from Northern Utah to North Dakota to buy a farm?

I've never in my life considered owning farmland,  In fact it never occurred to me that anyone other than farmers own farms.  Isn't that what farmers do, own land and grow food on it?  Of course it is.

I'm no stranger to investment property.  I own a couple of condos that I rent out.  I get that.  Lots of people do that.  But my brother-in-law bought some land in North Dakota, partly as a private hunting reserve but also as an investment.  We got to talking about it one day and the more he told me about it, the more intrigued I became.  He was not only enjoying hunting on his own land, but he was getting income from it - a rancher was leasing his acreage and paying him cash.  And on top of that, the land had appreciated in value.  It was now worth more than he paid for it.

A non-farmer owning farmland.  Hmm.

So I started to do some research.  I spent hours online looking at farmland all over the county.  It turns out farmland is listed in a very similar fashion to residential real estate.  You find a realtor's website, browse the listings, see if any properties are of interest to you.  However, instead of 3bd 2 ba w/finished basement, farm listings are more like 160 ac, NHEL soil, 85 productivity index.

With all that in mind I left for North Dakota to search for farmland.  I knew where I was going - northwestern North Dakota, around Williston, particularly Williams and Divide counties.  Never heard of them, you say?  It's not surprising.  The population of both counties in small and shrinking further.

Not to mention that this is a long drive from where I live, most of it on Interstate highway.  Thank goodness.  But once you get to Glendive Montana and turn North, it begins to get stark and empty.  You cross into North Dakota and it gets bleak.  There is a brief respite when you get to Williston (McDonalds!) then it's on to even more remote county, much of it on roads that look like the one in the photo above.



As you get further into 'farm country' the roads stop looking like really small, rarely traveled roads (from the perspective of The Suburb Kid) and look more like a trail followed by the emigrants on the Oregon Trail - except those folks stayed far to the south.  Yes, the road you see to your left is one that I actually drove on to get someplace - that someplace being a farm that was for sale.  It is five miles from the paved road in the image above, and if it is possible to say it is even less traveled than that same paved road, I'll say it.  And it's true.  Not once did I meet another car, truck or tractor on that road.  And yet you can see there is a farmhouse in the picture, meaning that (gasp!) someone actually lives out here in the middle of nowhere, North Dakota.

Yes, people actually live way out here.  Some do, anyway.  Others have left.  The image below is that of a deserted homestead, not too far from the home in the picture above, that was probably established (according to my Realtor) sometime in the 1920's.  Someone or some family arrived at this spot, decided to claim the land, start a farm and build a farmstead.  Along the way, something went wrong, perhaps the dust bowl of the 1930's.  Whatever the cause, whenever the time, at some point the family left, taking with them what they could.  What they left is a stark reminder of the remoteness of this place.



For me, though, it's not about living here or how remote the place is.  The fact is that some people live here and make a living of farming this land.  They are trying to 'grow' their business (is that a pun?) by renting farmland to maximize their yield in this time of rising commodity prices.  It goes back to investment property.  The truth is the secret of North Dakota land has been discovered.  More and more out-of-staters like me are buying the land, and many of us are getting good rents from the farmers who do live here.  And to be honest, there is a stark beauty in this land, given the right light.

As you may have surmised from the title of this article, I did buy a farm on this trip.  The pictures above and below are of my farm - 160 acres of rural, income-producing bliss.  And as you can see I already have a lease agreement with a local farmer, who wasted no time in getting his tractor onto my land and his durum wheat into the ground. 

 
I headed back out on the long drive home with a rent check in my pocket, which doesn't come close to offsetting the cash I laid out for this parcel. But then again, that is the nature of investment property.  It's a long-term play.  And with commodity prices what they are and with everything I've read saying they'll remain high for some time, I'm feeling good about this particular investment.

Next year we'll plan a trip and bring The Camping Machine up here - taking our time, seeing the country.  I'll show Chris and Tommy the farm, and although they are too young to understand, one day this farm will be theirs.  They won't appreciate it now, but they'll enjoy seeing this huge tract of land, compare it to our 1/4 acre slice of suburban heaven and say what I did when I first saw it - "Wow, that's a lot of land!"  Then it will be time do go see Mount Rushmore, something they will appreciate more than a large field of dirt. 

Oh, wait.  That's in South Dakota.

Why go camping? 

This question can be phrased may different ways - Why camp? Why do you go camping?  What's fun about camping? 

And for each way to ask the question, there hundreds of answers.  No doubt everyone has their own.  Of course there is no single correct answer, no right or wrong answer, and no answer will ring true for everyone who asks. 

But I'd wager that for those folks who do camp, if they are asked that question, they have an answer.  I know I do.  So even though you haven't asked, I'll answer anyway.  So here it is.  And it might be best illustrated by the photo below.

We live in the Rocky Mountains.  Within 6 hours of our home we have access to seven National Parks.  See those mountains in the photo?  Can you name them?  Those are the Tetons.  Part of Grand Teton National Park.  Arguably they are the most iconic mountains in the USA (okay, I hear you.  Mt. Hood.  Mt. Rainier.  This is my blog and I say its the Tetons).  And the closest most people get to them is seeing photos like this.

So part of the answer to the question is because we live where we do, we're going to make a point to go and see those beautiful natural features that are a part of our landscape.  While it's not exactly right outside our back door, neither is it a 5-hour plane flight away.  To live here and not experience these vistas seems like a tragedy. 

Another part of the answer is that we have, as a family, made a commitment to spend quality time outdoors.  It's too easy these days to spend time playing video games, computer games, watching TV and renting movies.  Before you know it, summer is gone and what do you have to show for it?  With our two boys, now age eight and six, we are working to instill in them a love for the outdoors - the fun of hiking, biking, fishing, rock-hounding.  We want them to appreciate and experience the natural beauty that is all around them. 

 
A third part of the answer is we want to make the most of the time my wife and I have with our sons. Chris is now eight years old, going into the third grade.  That means we have only nine summers left - NINE! - before he is off to college.  Who knows when we'll see him after that.  So I want to make sure we pack these summers full of memories.  When it's all said and done, and I'm wasting away in some nursing home, when my sons come to (hopefully) visit me, I hope they will say, "Dad, remember that camping trip where we..." and "Wasn't is great when we took the trailer to..." and "I'll never forget the time we..." 

That's what it's all about. 

That's why we camp.   

Having made our way to Jackson, Wyoming in the trusty Camping Machine, we're searching about for something interesting to do.  Something to make the trip special.  Something to go back and tell the guys at the office, "My weekend?   Oh, nothing special.  We just took a raft trip down the Snake River, that's all.  Oh, and mowed the lawn.  How about you?"

Yup, that's what we needed.  And that's what we did.



We booked a trip with Teton Expeditions to float the Snake River for a couple of hours.  Rafts? They have rafts like kings have castles.  And we were honored guests. 

Understand we have never taken an official river trip.  Oh, sure, we've piled into inner tubes and floated down the Madison River a couple of times.  I've written about that on this website.  Floating the Madison is fun.  Everyone does it.  But this was a Real River Trip.  With Guides.  The kind of guides that belong on the old Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom.

So you can imagine the excitement Chris and Tommy had going into this thing.  A wild, exciting ride down the famous Snake River.  If you're a boy, six or eight years old, do you think you're going to be excited?  I'd have to think yes.

And my guys certainly were.





Oh, sure, it may look like they're apprehensive.  They're not.  This is called Getting Your Game Face On.

Let me be clear.  We booked what is called a 'scenic' trip.  The kind of trip you sit back, relax, and let the gentle rocking of the raft on the placid river lull you into a sense of extreme serenity.  Sure, you're wearing a life preserver on this trip.  I think they make you wear it just so you feel like you're having an 'adventure.'  It's so you can take a picture and show your friends that you really did float the wild and woolly Snake River, and survived to tell the tale.  We did not  book the 'whitewater' trip, the type of trip where you experience waves in the river capable of making 'The Poseidon Adventure' seem tame.  Nope, on our trip there would be no 'Lunch Counter.'  There would, however, be a picnic basket.

  

The photo above is why they call the trip we booked the 'scenic' float.  It's scenes like this that you can't believe you are seeing in real life.  This is something you see on The Discovery Channel.  'Tonight at 10!  Brave Adventurers Risk Life and Limb on the treacherous Snake River to get a glimpse of rugged mountain peaks!!'  Or some thing like that. 

And yet there we were, with two young boys, lazily floating the river, risking neither life nor limb and casually looking back at the Tetons as though we see something this beautiful and dramatic every day.  "Ho Hum, another snow-capped mountain."  And just when you start to take it all for granted, your river guide says, "Take a look in the trees along the shore.  See that small black speck?"  So you lift your binoculars, the ones provided to each guest on the raft absolutely free, and you focus in on the black speck in the trees.




You focus those binoculars a bit and it turns out that speck in the trees is the quintessential American Icon, the Bald Eagle.  Just sitting there in the trees, looking out over the river, hoping a trout will come to the surface so he can snatch it up for dinner.  An everyday occurrance.  For the eagle, anyway.

This is no Zoo eagle.  This is an acutal, no-kidding in the wild Bald Eagle.  I don't know about you but I don't see this everyday.  And yet in the couse of our two-hour float, we saw no less than ten of these eagles.  If I may say so myself, that is pretty darn cool.



The Guide on one of these river trips can really make the experience special.  Sure, at the end of the trip you've floated the river, no matter what hte guide does (provided, of course, you don't run aground or something).  But our guide, JoAnn, was awesome.  She always managed to orient the raft on the river to give us the best view.  She pointed out the wildlife, her experience allowing her to know where the best viewing spots would be.  Her knowledge of the river gave her the experience to point out things along the way that we, as passengers, would never have noticed, but made the trip all the more enjoyable.

For example, she called out to tell us there were two eagles in a tree up ahead.



I am sure I would have missed this had our guide not pointed out this dramatic sighting.  However, she had seen them together on previous trips, and she told us they were a mated pair, and their offspring was likely nearby.  A few moments later we heard a 'trilling' and our guide told us that was the sound of the young eagle.  Moments after hearing the bird, we saw it in a tree further down the river.  As it was, this was a moment we will long remember.

With a full complement of wildlife sightings and the trip drawing to a close, the discussion on the raft turned to other portions of the river that can be floated.  The 'whitewater' float includes some Class 2 and Class 3 rapids, and our guide explained the rating system.  She talked about the section of the river referred to as 'Lunch Counter', a place that will 'eat your lunch' if you are not careful.  She then asked if we wanted to experience a much milder version of 'whitewater', and we said yes.



Chris looked ahead, eager and excited to spot the rapids we would run.  He was already imaging the stories he would tell his friends.  "I ran whitewater on the Snake River!" he would say.  "It was awesome!  I got soaking wet!"  That's what it's like to be eight years old, in case you've forgotten.



Okay, so it's not Lunch Counter.  But it was waves, and we did go down into the trough nose-first, and we did get wet.  So that has to count for something.  So I suggested to the Guide that if this wasn't exactly 'Lunch Counter,' it still deserved a name.  Given that we had finished the lunch provided from the large cooler on board the raft, I suggested we call that section 'Picnic Basket.'  Our Guide agreed.

  Before we knew it, the float was nearly over.  How could two hours go by so quickly?



We made a point to thank our guide JoAnne, who really made the trip fun and interesting.  We have the photos to prove we did it.  We saw live eagles in their natural habitat.  We ran whiteater on one of the iconic rivers in the western United States.  And Chris get's to tell his third-grade buddies on the first day of school, "I ran whitewater on the Snake River this summer."

And dad has a story to tell the guys in the office.  Besides mowing the lawn.  

It's been at least five years, maybe more like seven, since I have been to Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  It may even be a good ten years.  Whatever.  It's been too long, that much I know.  I don't know ol' Jack any more.  But now, at last, that situation has been rectified.

The Camping Machine rolled into Jackson, Wyoming for a impromptu long weekend.  We're staying at the Virginian RV park.  Our little 27-foot travel trailer is dwarfed by all the huge Motor Homes in the park.  It's giving me an inferiority complex.

Today we set out for Grand Teton National Park.  We took the ferry across Jenny Lake and hiked up to Hidden Falls.  If you haven't done that hike, it is not strenuous at all and the payoff is worth it.  The falls are beautiful. 

We also stumbles across a moose taking a dip in a stream just inside Grand Teton National Park.  She didn't seem to mind a couple dozen people taking photographs and video clips.

 
Look, I understand seeing a Moose in no big deal in Grand Teton National Park.  There are almost as many Moose around here as there are mosquitoes (or so it seems sometimes). But it is still a minor thrill.  We were less than 30 feet away from this one, and our kids thought it was awesome.  They talked about it the rest of the day.

Tomorrow is a float trip on the Snake River ( a 'dry' float trip - we have young children!) and we're looking forward to that. 

Maybe we'll run into our Moose again- or one of her many friends.  

As I have said in previous posts, I'm no country kid.  To me, cowboys are the stuff of western movies.  And the whole rodeo thing, well, I just don't get it.  Honestly - Bull Riding?  Calf roping?  I'd rather watch curling.

That was, until I went to the annual 4th of July rodeo in Ennis, Montana. 


I really like Ennis, Montana.  Ever since my Brother-in-Law and his family built a summer home there, I've had the occassion to spend time up there visiting them, usually over the fourth of July.  We hang out, float the Madison River, and just enjoy the peace, tranquility and fresh air in one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.

So this year, in addition to floating the Madison and hanging out, we went to the  rodeo in Ennis. 

These cowboys are nuts.

I mean, really.  Look at the guy in the photo to the left.  Can you say WHIPLASH?  This can't be fun.  If seen car wrecks that weren't as bad as what is happening to this poor guy.  Not ot mention the horse doesn't look like this is what he bargained for.  One day he's out on the prairie, minding his own business, the next thing he knows he's got some smelly cowboy stuck on his back.  I'd buck like hell if I were him.

For the record this cowboy made the full 8 seconds required, but was disqualified for some sort of technical violation.  That's just not right.  This cowboy is getting his eggs scrambled every which way, and he gets DQ'd over some trivial thing?  Something's not kosher about that.
 
Or how about this guy?  He lasted less than two seconds before getting a face full of arena dirt.
This can't feel good. 

What amazes me, outside of the fact that people actually volunteer for this stuff, is that this is a JOB for some people.  It's what they do FOR A LIVING.  Now I can see being a professional baseball player.  An NBA player.  Even, to a lesser extent, a professional football player.  But a Rodeo Cowboy?  You've got to be kidding. 



And then there are the Steer wrestlers.

If I didn't know this guy was trying to wrestle the steer, well, I'm not sure what I would have thought.  It isn't a kiss, I don't think anyway.  Still, what would possess someone to dive off a horse and onto the back of a steer and wrestle it to the ground?  Call me crazy but I'll take Greco-Roman anytime over this.  At least that is an Olympic Sport.



One more photo for kicks.  Doesn't this look fun?  It looks like a baseball player, dressed as a cowboy, is sliding into home plate with a giant hamburger.  To bad the cowboy will spend the next 48 hours trying to clean the dirt out his mouth, nose, ears and other places.

Yes, our trip to Ennis was fun and relaxing.  And after having watched the annual 4th of July Rodeo live and in person, I'm happy to say I have a whole new appreciation for cowboys.

I just don't want to be one.

To see more photos from the 4.th of July Rodeo in Ennis, Montana go to The Camping Machine Image Gallery.

If you were around in the 1970's you may remember it.  It has a moderate comeback in the late 1980's/early 1990's.  And now, as we approach the end of the 2000's, it is back with a vengeance.

I'm talking, of course, about Roller Derby. 

I've read a couple of articles recently in the New York Times about the resurgence of popularity of Roller Derby.  Particularly for women, interest in this 'sport' has grown phenomenally.  Women all over the country are trying out for Roller Derby teams.  It's hot, it's sexy, and if you've never seen it, it's a blast to watch. 

Of course, many of you reading this have never seen Roller Derby and have no idea what I am talking about.  Fortunately for you, I can give you a first-hand glimpse of the wackiness of women on skates knocking each other silly. 

Back in the day I was a TV News Cameraman.  One Saturday night I drew the assignment to cover a Roller Derby match, which had come to town.  I went to the arena and was granted full access, including the infield where all the action takes place.  It was, to say the least, a unique experience. 

To see what Roller Derby is all about, click on the Multimedia page of this website and scroll down to the paragraph called Hell on Wheels.  Click on the link below that and you'll be treated to 90 seconds of the mayhem and madness that is Roller Derby. 

Enjoy!

As some of you may know, if you've read some of my recent posts, I was a TV News Photographer for many years.  I've even posted some of my work on the Multimedia page of this site (this is a not-so-subtle hint to go to that page and watch some of the clips there).

But in my heart of hearts I was less a Journalist and more of an 'Imageist.'  Meaning that I cared far more about the pictures than I did the news stories I was assigned to cover.

And my passion was going out by myself and looking for interesting things to shoot.

Now I am old, married, and tied to a job.  Mortgage, retirement fund (underfunded), college funds (underfunded) and a trailer we call The Camping Machine (not paid off yet), pulled by a 2001 Chevy Suburban (not paid off yet either).  So my dream of being a roving landscape photographer, criss-crossing the country pulling my trailer, getting up before down to capture that magical moment of sunrise with a composition sure to win awards - well, that's goin to have to wait a few years more.  Many years more, let's say 40 or so.

And yet the passion for the image just will not die.  And I have a few images I like, a couple I am proud of.  I actually have had an image published in a nature calendar, one that was published by a real calendar company and sold nationwide.   So there.

As luck would have it, I also have a website which you are reading at this very moment.  And since it's my site, I can publish my own images and say whatever I want about them.  So I've decided to do just that.

Introducing the Featured Photo page on The Camping Machine website.  If you look at the Nav Bar on the left of the page you'll notice a new nav button for the Featured Photo.  Go ahead, click it.  You will see one of my images in a larger format than I've displayed photos elsewhere on this site, along with a brief description of the image, when and where I took it ans some spefici details about getting the shot, where appropriate.

So click on over and take a look.  I welcome your comments via email at CampingMachineGuy (at) gmail (dot) com.  And as always, thank you for stopping by to read these words, look at the stories on the Travels Page (Spring is here, soon will have actual new camping stories to tell!), watch a video clip or two on the Multimedia page, or browse thumbnail photos on the Image Gallery. It's all free for your reading and viewing pleasure.  And while you're at it, please support our sponsors by clicking on their ads and buying their goods.  Hey, you'll be getting a rebate check from the Government - do the right thing for the economy and spend the darn money right away!

Especially when the people I am watching don't know that I am.

It is very interesting to have a ‘one-way' point of view, where you can look at someone or something without anyone else knowing you are watching.  Watching what they do.  Watching how they act.  Seeing them without being seen.

In a way it is like being invisible, as if you are floating about without anyone knowing you are there.  Just watching, observing,...knowing.

Now you might think this is kind of creepy, but it's not.  In fact it is perfectly legal and is actually wholesome entertainment.  I'd even take that a step further and call it educational.

I'm talking webcams.

Now some of you may get all bent out of shape, thinking I'm talking about those dirty webcams that charge fees by the minute to watch people take off their clothes and do things that should not be watched - but that is not what I'm talking about.  I'm talking about the webcams listed on the links page of this website. 

I think it is fascinating to be able to click a link and watch Old Faithful erupt in Yellowstone National Park from the comfort (or discomfort, if you will) from the desk in my office.  It is fun, on a cold winter day, to take a peek at what is going on in Acapulco or Miami.  It's humbling to view the site of the former World Trade Center Towers, and exciting to watch the chaos of Times Square. 

Want to go abroad?  Visit Moscow, Prague, Rome or even Antarctica, courtesy of webcams you can view from The Camping Machine Links page.  What time is it in London right now?  Click on the link to the Big Ben webcam.  Are you a closet thrill-seeker?  Click on the link to Niagara Falls and imagine yourself going over in a barrel.  (Note - between 1901 and 1985, ten people went over the Falls in a ball, barrel or rig. Seven were successful while three died in the attempt.  Since 1985, five more persons have gone over the Falls, including one in a kayak (died in the attempt) and one on jet ski (also died). To date 15 people have challenged the Falls. Five have died.)

You can view Seattle from the Space Needle and you can view the Quad at Syracuse University.  You can see the show at Venice Beach and you can watch politicians spend our tax dollars in Washington DC.  See what's happening in Shanghai, enjoy the aura of Sedona or admire the view of the tremendous Tetons.  It's all available, right there on your screen, courtesy of The Camping Machine Links page.

So for those of you with wanderlust, who stare forlornly at your RV covered in it's winter blanket, take a virtual journey while you await spring and your first camping trip.  Check out the webcam links on the Links page of The Camping Machine website.

Have a great trip!

Spring cannot be far behind, and with that, The Camping Machine will soon roll once again.  I can hardly wait.

But with Spring comes something else that is not so happy - the anniversary of the death of my mother. 

She died on Memorial Day 2005.  It happened the day after we returned from our very first camping trip in The Camping Machine.

As the oldest of her children and the executor of her will, it fell to me to make her final arrangements.  One of which was to select her final resting place.

She was not one to make those kinds of plans.  In fact, she had insisted she be cremated and her ashes scattered in the ocean.  Of course, I honored her request.  In early june of 2005 we scattered her ashes in the ocean at Nags Head, North Carolina.

But I kept a small amount of her ashes, with the idea that I would buy a burial plot for her back here where we live. Although our family is not originally from this part of the country, we've lived here for awhile. This place is home now for me, especially since my children were born here. My mom lived here, too, for many years, and in the last year of her life she told me a couple of time she wished she had never left. So there is a case to be made that this could be her final resting place.

Selfishly, I want to have a burial site for her here so I can bring Chris and Tommy to her grave on Memorial Days. Though they never really knew her while she was alive, I'd like them to understand a part of their heritage, their family history.

I told MBW about this plan, and she was on board with the idea. But then she took it one step further.

"Why don't you buy three plots?" she said.

"Um, why should I do that?"

"Buy two for us," she said, "so she won't be there all alone."

That was one of the most touching things she has ever said.

Both my wife and I are transplants to this city and state. We have no ancestors buried anywhere near here. There isn't a ‘family plot,' for eit