The Highs and Lows of Travel

After our week in Ocala we officially began the road trip home. We didn't know at the time that it would still be a week and a half before we got there, but we planned to not have a plan, so everything worked according to plan. So to speak.

We spent a day and a half in Pensacola, touring the Naval Air Museum and the Pensacola lighthouse. We also swam at Perdido Key beach. Again, when I say "we" I mean "they". I sat on the beach in my jacket and read a book or took brisk jogs to warm up while my half polar bear children played in the water for several hours.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                Next we went down to Louisiana, staying in a beautiful state park in Mandeville. The park was clean, and it backed onto a big, slow Louisiana river, where one could fish, should that be something one enjoys. One could also sit and read a book, which I, in fact, did. It was also a great place for buying and consuming crawfish.

We drove over the 26 mile bridge on Lake Pontchartrain the next day to go into New Orleans. I have been begging to see the National WWII Museum for years, and Aaron agreed that this was my chance to do it since it wasn't too far out of our way. He's a nice boy. I wandered around the museum for three blissful hours while Aaron and the kids went to the Audubon Aquarium down the road. (They were the same exorbitant price, and, let's be honest, kids would rather see an aquarium than a war museum.)

                                    After surviving the wilds of New Orleans, we felt prepared to handle anything, and were certainly tested on that in the next few days. I won't go into all the details of flats, spares and blow-outs, but I will say that Mississippi is our least favorite state now. The interstates were awful, and by awful I mean driving on them while dragging
a fifth-wheel feels like sailing over high waves in a small fishing vessel.

We stayed the night in Vicksburg, MS, for which I take full responsibility. Not only was the campground in terrible condition, but someone had decided to burn several huge piles of wet leaves just downwind of the trailer sites. At least we didn't have a mosquito problem. We pulled out of Vicksburg the next morning, thankful to still be the owners of a trailer and a pick-up truck, and thankful that none of our home defense devices were necessary. (Yes, I actually slept with a small bottle of mace close at hand.)