Backspace, Backspace, Bon Voyage: How We Accidentally Booked Europe.

We’re traveling again—only this time, “Neil the Northpoint” is staying home, and we’re not rumbling down some familiar highway in the United States or Canada. We’ve traded road miles for river kilometers and signed on for a 23-day European cruise from Amsterdam, to Bucharest, Rumania. It began one night well past midnight, when the house was quiet, good judgment had gone to bed, and I was glowing in the blue light of my computer screen, searching for an RV-like way to explore Europe. That was when I wandered onto the Viking River Cruises website, and discovered just how easy they make it to get carried away.

“Would you like a 7-, 14-, or 23-day cruise?” the website asked. Twenty-three days? If you’re going all the way to Europe, why not see Europe? Click. “Would you like to choose your cabin?” Of course. Upper deck, balcony—somewhere to sip coffee while castles, vineyards, and medieval villages drift past. Click. “Airfare and transfers?” Sensible. Click.  “Premium airfare?” Amsterdam is a long overnight flight, and these knees aren’t getting any younger. Click.  “Arrive early for a curated tour of the city?” Absolutely. Click. “Extend the trip to Transylvania and the land of Vlad the Impaler?” That’s the stuff of legends. Click. Then came the drinks package. Nope. Beer and wine were already included, Judy and I aren’t big drinkers, and we had to save a few shekels somewhere. Feeling downright responsible, I clicked past it—and the grand total appeared. I won’t share the exact number, but let’s just say it could have bought a very nice new car. The room suddenly felt warmer. I stared at the total, found the Backspace key, and began: backspace, backspace, backspace… Never mind. It was late. I should have gone to bed.

Fourteen months later, our long-awaited journey began—not quite as advertised. A historic drought had left the Rhine too low for Viking’s ships to travel the entire route, making ship swaps, motor-coach transfers, and unexpected hotel stays part of the adventure. We knew disruptions were likely, but decided to go, make the best of it, and enjoy every detour. That decision brought us to Noordwijk and the five-star Grand Hotel Huis ter Duin—and we’re very glad it did.

Royal Delft Ceramic Factory, Delft, The Netherlands

First excursion the following morning was to the historic Royal Delft Museum and factory. Stepping inside feels less like a standard museum tour and more like entering a time capsule. In a world dominated by automation and digital spreadsheets, this historic institution still relies entirely on the human hand. The most mind-blowing part of the visit? They have an entire department dedicated solely to the clay slurry recipe. This isn't a digital file backed up on a cloud server—it is a centuries-old recipe kept on handwritten paper. It takes a precise blend of roughly 10 raw materials (including kaolin, chalk, feldspar, and quartz) to create the perfect canvas for their art. Watching the master painters work under the glow of modern 21st-century lighting while practicing a technique unchanged since 1653 is stunning. They map out their designs using charcoal, then use specialized brushes made of marten and squirrel hair to freehand the details.

They paint using a black cobalt oxide mixture that looks dull at first. But when fired in the kiln at over 1,000°C, a dramatic chemical reaction occurs, transforming that black paint into the vibrant, world-famous Delft Blue. It is a beautiful reminder that some of the best things in the modern world don’t need an upgrade.

After Delft, we headed to Gouda. First things first for my fellow Americans: we are pronouncing it completely wrong. It isn’t "Goo-duh"—the locals call it "How-dah," using a raspy, guttural Dutch "G."

Making Stroopwafel at Berg's Bakery, Gouda The Netherlands

Learning the history inside an authentic cheese shop while practicing my pronunciation was a total blast. But the absolute highlight was diving into Gouda's other legendary creation: the stroopwafel! We stopped at Berg's Bakery, a fantastic local spot that bakes thousands of these sweet treats daily for the community. I actually got to step behind the counter to bake and taste an original stroopwafel with the owner himself (that's us in the photo!). Pressing the dough into the hot iron, slicing the steaming waffle, and sandwiching that warm cinnamon syrup inside was sticky, delicious, and pure magic. If you’ve only ever had the pre-packaged ones, trust me—you haven’t truly lived!

Steven with the Stroopwafle King. Gouda

Next up on day two was a quick, thought-provoking stop in The Hague to see the stunning Peace Palace. Driving by the sprawling international courts makes you stop and think, but standing right in front of the palace gates is entirely humbling. There is a profound, heavy irony to this beautiful building. Funded largely by American philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, it was built to house a grand international law library and promote global harmony. Yet, it officially opened in August 1913—just one single year before the devastating outbreak of World War I. Today, it still serves as a global beacon for international law. Looking at its grand towers through my camera lens, I couldn't help but think that over a century later, our world could still use a whole lot more peace. 

Peace Palace, the Hague, The Netherlands

Self-portrait, Vincent van Gogh, Rijksmuseum

Day three brought us into Amsterdam proper, and our first stop was the magnificent Rijksmuseum. The art is world-famous, but nothing prepared me for the building itself—a majestic cathedral dedicated to human creativity. Walking into the Gallery of Honour, with its vaulted ceilings, intricate frescoes, and golden light filtering through stained-glass windows, took my breath away. As much as I love the Louvre, the Rijksmuseum has an intimate grandeur all its own. The hall leads you past Vermeer’s luminous scenes and Frans Hals’ lively portraits to Rembrandt’s massive crown jewel, The Night Watch. Standing inches from those historic brushstrokes was unreal.

 

The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Leaving the museum, we traded the majestic cathedral of art for the watery highways that define the city. We hopped onto a 90-minute canal ride, and it quickly became obvious that these famous waterways function exactly like an everyday taxi system.

Floating the Canals of Amsterdam

Floating along, we passed endless houseboats—some sleek and hyper-modern, others hulking, charming messes overflowing with potted plants. Looking up from the water, you notice something surreal: the buildings lean forward and bow outward like old friends propping each other up. Amsterdam was built in the 1600s over soft sand and wet peat—great for agriculture, terrible for tall buildings—so builders drove thousands of wooden piles deep into the mud to keep the structures upright. Today, strict local laws favor stabilization and careful renovation over demolition. That engineering remains essential; without it, half the Netherlands would be underwater.

At the Wheel of Canal Boat, Amsterdam

Our aquatic taxi dropped us near the Renaissance Amsterdam Hotel, bringing us face-to-face with the fluid reality of traveling in the Low Lands. Because river levels were too low to begin the tour safely in town, Viking housed its incoming guests right there in Amsterdam—a striking reminder that life in the Netherlands remains tied to the whims of the water, just as it has for centuries.

For those who have followed the first 82 chapters of our journey, this post marks a major detour. Since our last adventure ended in April, the blog has been quiet while Judy and I adjusted to life off the road. We’re used to exploring the United States behind The Beast—our trusty GMC 3500 dually—spending 450 nights making weeklong deep dives from our luxury 5th wheel. Europe turned that style completely on its head. Instead of roaring down wide interstates, we drifted along 17th-century canals past leaning brick houses. We watched Royal Delft artists preserve a centuries-old craft, laughed over warm cinnamon syrup at Berg’s Bakery, and stood beneath the cathedral-like grandeur of the Rijksmuseum. Even when low water forced Viking to pivot and house us in Amsterdam, we smiled. Whether traveling by 5th wheel or riverboat, the landscape and transportation may change, but the joy of discovery remains the same, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

By the way, if you want to see the video portions of this blog please see us on Instagram. Follow the link @couplescoachs23

Troll Hunting in Rhode Island: A Small-State Adventure Close to Home.

Before summer slips completely into the rearview mirror, I wanted to pull back into the blog lane and bring you along for a quick catch-up on where we wandered, what we saw, and how we spent these warmer months with Neil the Northpoint. After a few years of pointing the RV toward bigger, farther-away adventures, this summer took a quieter turn. We stayed close to home, made shorter local trips, and let New England have its moment. And honestly? It felt a little strange at first—but in the best possible way.

That realization hit while Judy and I were looking back over the states we’ve already visited—and the ones where we still need to do more than simply pass through. To us, a place only really counts when we’ve spent a little time with it: exploring a town center, following a bike path, taking a food tour, or doing something that helps us get a feel for what makes it its own. We’ve always set a higher bar than simply driving through, which makes it funny that, for the past three years, the first leg of our RV trips out of town have launched us more than 300 miles away into New York or Pennsylvania while we sailed right past the rest of New England. Apparently, stopping 90 or 150 miles from home felt almost too easy, as if Neil the Northpoint might object to such a short day on the road. This summer, though, we finally corrected course. We camped in Rhode Island and New Hampshire—states we know well, but had somehow never officially parked Neil in—and added two more New England states to our list. And yes, even Massachusetts deserves a mention. It may be our home state, but after two summers in a row at Scusset Beach State Park, twelve days of lobster, home cooking, and familiar coastal comfort have more than earned their place in the story. So come along with us as we keep summer close to home, starting with our first trip outside Massachusetts: a July 4th weekend in Rhode Island, where a little troll hunting was waiting just down the road.

Rhode Island may be the smallest state in the nation by land mass, but over the Fourth of July weekend in Newport, it certainly did not feel short on people, energy, or things to discover. At roughly 43 miles by 37 miles—with bays, bridges, beaches, and coastal islands tucked into every corner—it is the kind of place where a single day can feel like a whole little adventure book. And if that adventure happens to involve hunting trolls, all the better. In most states, a troll hunt might require a long haul, a packed cooler, and a serious commitment to the odometer. In Rhode Island, you can crisscross the state, stop for lunch by the water, wander a few trails, and still make it back before the trolls have finished their evening meal.

The reason for our troll hunt was Rhode Island’s wonderfully unexpected Troll Trail: five giant wooden sculptures tucked into public parks, wooded paths, and coastal green spaces. They were created by Thomas Dambo, the Danish artist known for turning reclaimed wood and discarded materials into storybook-sized outdoor art. Built with help from local volunteers, the trolls even carry Rhode Island touches like quahog and conch shells. Together, they make for a free, self-guided scavenger hunt that led us into corners of the state we might otherwise have missed.

Greta Granite & Erik Rock (last stop)

Young Boulder 

Iver Mudslider

Mrs. Skipper (first stop)

In the end, the Troll Trail turned out to be a fun, easy way to see more of Rhode Island than we might have otherwise. We bounced from one troll to the next, walking a little, exploring new corners, and discovering these giant wooden characters for the first time. Each troll had its own setting and personality, but the real charm was in the hunt itself—a simple day of wandering that felt playful, surprising, and worth chasing.

With the July 4th holiday week bringing serious heat, the beach was an easy decision. Rhode Island has plenty of beautiful shoreline, and one favorite we already knew well was Sachuest Beach in Middletown, better known locally as Second Beach. This south-facing, mile-long stretch is family-friendly, with soft sand, steady surf, and plenty of room to settle in for the day. It remains one of our favorite beaches, even though parking can be painfully expensive for out-of-town visitors. Fortunately, the campground was only about a 15-minute drive away, which made the splurge a little easier to justify.

We had endured a string of truly really hot days, but after a night of thunderstorms, the weather finally broke, leaving us with a rainy afternoon and the perfect excuse to explore indoors. As luck would have it, our campsite in Portsmouth, RI, sat just minutes from the Newport Car Museum, housed in a converted Raytheon missile manufacturing facility. What could have been a dreary day quickly turned into one of those unexpected travel gifts. Inside, it was easy to lose ourselves among the museum’s more than 100 cars, arranged across five

1955 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL Gullwing

distinct galleries that felt less like rooms and more like chapters in the grand romance of the automobile. The international collection—especially the Jaguars, BMWs, and the beautiful Porsche gallery—was a pleasure to wander through, while the Corvette gallery offered its own kind of heartbeat: row after row of American style, power, and memory, including a black 1963 Chevrolet Corvette Sting Ray Split-Window Coupe and a 1967 Corvette Stingray Coupe with the legendary 427 cubic-inch Big-Block engine. The Ford and Shelby displays added another rush altogether, especially with videos that brought that bold racing lineage to

1957 BMW Isetta (the Urkel Car)

life. We have visited plenty of car museums on our travels, but this one stood out. There was something thrilling about being so close to these magnificent machines—their curves, chrome, colors, and history all polished to a shine—that made the afternoon feel less like passing time and more like stepping into the dream each car was built to promise.

Morgan, Dani, and Judy at Breakers Mansion

Of course, no Newport visit feels quite complete without seeing at least one of the famous mansions, so we toured The Breakers, the best known of them all. It was certainly majestic and interesting, but if we are being honest, it landed more in the “glad we saw it” category than the “highlight of the trip” category. Maybe Marble House or one of the other mansions would have felt a little more dramatic, and the heat and crowds probably did not help, but The Breakers still gave us a taste of Newport’s grand old elegance.

Before we left, I picked up one last Rhode Island fun fact: Aquidneck Island—home to Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth—was historically known as Rhode Island, the name that eventually stretched to cover the whole state. With that bit of trivia tucked away, we packed up and made the easy 65-mile ride home.

And now comes the really exciting news: next month, for the first time in more than 80 posts of mostly RV travel, Neil the Northpoint gets to sit this one out while we point ourselves toward Europe. Instead of campground reservations and highway miles, we will be boarding a Viking river boat for a 23-day journey along the Rhine and Danube, beginning in Amsterdam and ending in Bucharest, with a little extra time on both ends to catch our breath. The trip will carry us through the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria, and Romania, with stops that include the windmills of Kinderdijk, Nuremberg’s medieval streets, Budapest, the Historic Regensburg Jewish neighborhood, and the Iron Gates gorge on the Danube. Because this trip is packed with a new place to discover almost every day, writing a full blog post along the way would probably require skipping either sleep or dessert, and I am not willing to give up either one. So, the plan is to keep a daily journal: sit down each evening for an hour or so, capture the day’s tours and visits while they are still fresh, download a few favorite pictures, and then move on to the next adventure. When we return, I’ll condense those journal entries into a couple of blog posts that should give you a better feel for the whole experience. Consider it the next chapter in our retirement promise to travel often, stay curious, and try as many ways of moving through the world as possible—even if this time the “campground” floats, someone else does the driving, and Neil gets to enjoy a very well-earned vacation. Since we’re never completely at rest, check back every so often to see where we have traveled to lately, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

From Golden David to Churchill Downs: Our Louisville Finale

Picture this: You’re strolling down Main Street in Louisville, Kentucky, minding your own business, when suddenly you’re confronted, face-to-err, well, everything, with a double-sized, gold-painted David. That’s right, a replica of Michelangelo’s iconic masterpiece, usually basking in the Italian sun, now stands gleaming (and unapologetically exposed) outside the 21c Museum Hotel, turning heads and raising eyebrows. It’s the kind of glorious kitsch that has been the theme of our RV journey - a trip where Amarillo, Texas, showed off its Cadillac Ranch, Edwardsville, Illinois charmed with its giant catsup bottle, and Austin, Texas brought sidewalk sculptures to life, - each stop a new chapter in my quest for the most delightfully eccentric roadside art. But Louisville’s golden David takes the cake (or maybe just the fig leaf); put it this way, with a statue this size, there’s no room for modesty. And if you happened to catch me trying to snap a selfie with David, well, let's just say my attempts at blending in were about as successful as hiding behind that statue's fig leaf.

If you’re new to Louisville, one of the best ways to experience its charm is simply to take a stroll through the heart of downtown. Louisville is a city that invites you to explore on foot, with lively streets, friendly faces, and an easygoing atmosphere. As you wander along Main Street, you'll discover unique attractions like the Louisville Slugger Walk of Fame, with its mile-long public art display featuring home plate plaques and towering baseball bat statues.

Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory

This walk connects the Louisville Slugger Museum & Factory to Louisville Slugger Field, honoring legendary players such as Pete Browning, Joe DiMaggio, Hank Aaron, Derek Jeter, Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Jackie Robinson, and Roberto Clemente, all of whom swung Louisville Slugger bats.

Riverfront Plaza, Louisville, KY

Or, on a sunny spring day, you might prefer a walk across the Ohio River on the pedestrian-friendly George Rogers Clark Memorial Bridge. Better known as the Second Street Bridge, it was built in 1929 and links Louisville, Kentucky, with Clarksville, Indiana. On the Indiana side, you can explore Water Tower Square and Ashland Park. On your way back, be sure to take in the Louisville skyline stretching along the banks of the Ohio River.

After taking in Louisville from the riverfront and its lively downtown streets, Judy and I found ourselves exploring the Muhammad Ali Center - admittedly with a bit of skepticism. Growing up in white suburbia in the late 70’s, I mostly thought of Ali as a loudmouth and a showboater, so I wasn’t sure what I would make of a museum devoted to him. But the center gently and completely changed my perspective. It is a beautifully done museum, thoughtful in both its design and its storytelling, and what impressed me most was how fully it captured the arc of Ali’s life—not just the fame and the fights, but the man himself, his struggles, his faith, his courage, and the values that shaped him. Now, as a much older and wiser person, I came away with a deeper appreciation for his six core principles—confidence, conviction, dedication, giving, respect, and spirituality—which feel especially meaningful in today’s political climate. I walked in expecting a few trophies and some bravado; I walked out feeling grateful for the discovery of a place that told Ali’s story with such heart, wisdom, and humanity.

Kentucky Derby Museum

We visited Churchill Downs on a sunny, warm Sunday in April, just 20 days before the 152^nd running of the Kentucky Derby, and the excitement was already in the air. The grounds and museum were buzzing with activity as Louisville prepared for the longest-running continuous sporting event in America. Churchill Downs is an impressive place—grand in scale, rich in tradition, and unmistakably special as the home of the nation’s most prestigious horse race. Nicknamed “The Most Exciting Two Minutes in Sports,” the Derby is beloved for its dramatic 20-horse field, its deep Southern roots, and its place as the first leg of the Triple Crown. With a little planning, we were able to visit the Kentucky Derby Museum and take a tour of the sprawling racing complex,

Wagering Area, Churchill Downs

then spend hours strolling through the impressive Churchill Downs Museum and watching footage of Derby races dating back to 1952. But what may have stayed with me most was how much the people of Louisville adore this event. They truly love every bit of the pageantry and tradition—and honestly, it’s hard not to get swept up in that joy yourself.

In typical fashion, no visit to a new city feels entirely “official” for us without the inclusion of a food tour. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times: we’re tasting our way across this great country, one food tour at a time. In Louisville, Katie led us through NuLu (short for “New Louisville”) and she was terrific. It was our first tour with earpieces, which meant we could actually hear her explanations over the happy chaos of loud, crowded restaurants. NuLu itself is a revitalized market district, and over the course of three delicious hours, we sampled our way across a pretty impressive culinary spectrum.

Delicious Coffee Drink at Biscuit Belly in NuLu,

One stop was Biscuit Belly, where we enjoyed mouthwatering biscuits with a variety of gravies—some with bacon, others with mushrooms—and coffee cocktails dreamy enough to make you consider a second breakfast. From there, we made our way to Feast BBQ, where we tried burgoo for the first time, a thick, savory Kentucky stew slow cooked with a mix of meats and seasonal vegetables. Our seven-stop food tour also included beer cheese and pretzels at The Galley and fried chicken strips with specialty dipping sauces at Royals Hot Chicken. And, as so many good food tours do, this one ended on a sweet note at the locally owned Muth’s Candies, where we sampled a caramel-wrapped marshmallow. It was a little too sweet for me, but Judy thought it was just about perfect. If I ever do put together a “Best Of” retrospective of our food-tour adventures, NuLu will have earned its place on the list.

Guide Katie Outside Muth's Candies, Secrets of Louisville Food & History Tour

Louisville turned out to be a wonderful final stop on our six-month journey. We saw our way through the city, ate our way through some terrific local spots, and soaked up as much of its character, history, and energy as we could before turning toward home. Once we left Kentucky, though, the next 1,000 miles—with overnight stops in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York—were really more about making tracks than sightseeing. Since we’ve traveled through that region on many previous trips, and with the weather becoming less cooperative, we decided to pick up the pace and get back to Massachusetts a couple of days earlier than planned. As it turned out, that was probably a wise move. Our calendar was already filling up fast, and we may have allowed a little too little time between pulling into the driveway with the camper and flying out again to visit our son Josh, who is in a veterinary medicine graduate program. We are so excited to see him, and those extra days at home will give us just enough breathing room to get “Neil” (the Northpoint) cleaned up and put in order before we set off on our next adventure.

If you’ve been following along faithfully, you may have noticed that this post has taken quite a while to arrive. Our last travel blog entry was nearly two months ago, and I know this one seemed to stop rather abruptly back in Springfield, Missouri, on April 13. The truth is, after getting about two-thirds of this post written, I simply ran out of steam. This six-month journey was a memorable one—28 stops, 20 blog posts, countless miles, and more wonderful experiences than I can easily count—but by the time we returned home, I found myself mentally and creatively tired. I also found myself wrestling with a bigger question: how does a travel blog like this one end, or should it end at all? That certainly does not mean we are done traveling, or that “Neil,” our faithful Northpoint, will be sitting still for long. But it does mean that Judy and I feel it is time to ease up on the accelerator a bit. When we first retired, it felt important to stay busy, embrace this RV lifestyle wholeheartedly, and make the most of the freedom we had worked so long to enjoy. Three years later, we can look back with gratitude on some remarkable numbers: more than 450 nights in the RV, over 22,000 miles traveled, and more than 80 blog posts shared along the way. They are impressive numbers, to be sure, but retirement is a long road, and we do not want to burn out on something we still love so much. So, this summer we will stay a little closer to home, enjoying places like Scusset Beach in MA, Newport, RI and the White Mountains of NH, at a gentler pace. And while we may be slowing down for a season, there is still more adventure ahead, including a wonderful month-long trip to Europe this fall, when we will cruise the Danube and Rhine Rivers and begin gathering a whole new set of stories to share. So, check back every so often, we’re not signing off forever, just shifting to a lower gear, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

From Castles to Catsup: The Final Miles of Our Southwestern Adventure.

As we pulled out of Oklahoma City and made our way northeast into Missouri, we officially wrapped up our deep dive into the southwestern United States, a journey that began back in October 2025. With this being my 20^th entry and the blog nearing its conclusion after 19 posts spread across months of adventure, I want to thank those who’ve shared the ride with us. Now, as winter gives way to spring and our return to Massachusetts draws closer, our travel style is shifting. Gone are the leisurely, immersive stays; instead, we’re moving at a brisker pace, pausing only briefly at each spot as we cross familiar Midwestern territory. This is a transitional phase for the blog and for us—our stops are shorter, and the stories are evolving. Our whirlwind stop in Springfield, Missouri was followed by a touchdown in Edwardsville, Illinois, where we parked the camper and hit pause for three weeks—just long enough to jet back to Massachusetts for some spring skiing (so my brand-new knee didn't feel neglected again), and to celebrate Passover with family. After we returned to Edwardsville, our “to do” list was down to just one grand finale—because even the best adventures need a closing chapter, preferably with less baggage than our camper. So, let’s flash you through approximately three weeks in less than 900 words, shall we?

First Stop:        Springfield, Missouri

What would you say if I told your there’s a castle in the middle of Springfield, Missouri?!? That’s right, I said a castle! Built in 1913 by the Knights of Pythias, the Pythian Castle originally served as a grand orphanage and retirement home for members. During World War II, the U.S. Military took over the limestone structure, using it to house prisoners of war and rehabilitate injured soldiers. The site later functioned as an Army Reserve center until it was sold to private owners in 1993. Due to its long, diverse history, the castle is widely known as a popular spot for guided ghost tours and paranormal

Steven & Rock in Pythian Castle Basement

investigations.

Wilson's Creek National Battlefield

Drawn by our interest in Civil War history, we spent a day at Wilson’s Creek National Battlefield in nearby Republic, Missouri, the site of the first major Civil War battle west of the Mississippi River on August 10, 1861. This bloody conflict saw 5,400 Union troops face 12,000 Confederates, resulting in more than 2,500 casualties and the death of Union General Nathaniel Lyon. We drove the 4.9-mile loop road, stopping to walk at each of the eight major battle sites—including “Bloody Hill.” While the Union lost the battle, they ultimately prevented Missouri from joining the Confederacy.

 

Second Stop:    Edwardsville, Illinois

Edwardsville, Illinois was meant to be a quiet pause before catching a flight back to Boston. But Judy, activities director “extraordinaire, changed everything as she managed to snag us front row seats at the Wildey Theatre for an afternoon of ELO hits featuring “Mr. Blue Sky”. My Blue Sky" is an acclaimed 10-piece Electric Light Orchestra (ELO) tribute band based in St. Louis, known for meticulous, note-for-note recreations of ELO's 70s and 80s hits. Founded by musician Jeff Faulkner the band features a full three-piece string section, complex harmonies, and a high-energy live show with multimedia visuals. It was a fantastic show, and was the perfect burst of excitement, lifting our spirits just in time for the next leg of our journey.

Third Stop:        Lincoln, NH

After fifteen months with my brand-new knee, I was practically bouncing to get back on the slopes. Two winters spent sulking on the sidelines had left me with a serious case of ski deprivation, so I carved out two weeks in March for a Lincoln, NH snow-fix. The weather gods obliged, dumping nearly eight inches of fresh powder—just enough to make me question if I should send them a thank-you note as well. I squeezed in nine days of full-throttle skiing, and my knee behaved like a champ: no aches, no swelling, and no embarrassing face-plants. I was so pleased, I emailed my orthopedic surgeon, thanking him for his work, and acknowledging that all the rehab had paid off in spectacular fashion.

Return to:     Edwardsville, Illinois

World's Largest Catsup Bottle. Collinsville, IL

Still in pursuit of the ultimate “kitschy” roadside spectacle, we struck gold—err, ketchup—just a stone’s throw from our RV campsite, in Collinsville, Illinois. There, towering over the town like a condiment superhero, stood the world’s largest Catsup Bottle. This 170-foot-tall marvel is not just a water tower in disguise; it’s an icon built in 1949 and lovingly rescued from demolition by a determined community, now proudly listed on the National Register of Historic Places. 

As we point the RV toward Louisville, Kentucky—an entirely new adventure in a state we’ve never explored—there’s a bittersweet sense of anticipation in the air. After nearly six months crisscrossing landscapes, collecting memories, and discovering the unexpected, it’s hard to believe our journey is almost at its end. While we’re excited to experience the charm of Kentucky and check off this final stop before heading home, there’s a gentle sadness that comes with wrapping up a chapter filled with so much laughter, wonder, and roadside oddities. Still, every road trip must have a last mile, and with grateful hearts, we’re ready to savor these closing moments before the southwestern adventure officially concludes. So, with one last state to discover and a story almost complete, we invite you to join us, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

Cowboying Up In Oklahoma City.

It’s time to “Cowboy up,” folks, we’ve landed smack dab in Oklahoma City! For the uninitiated, that classic rodeo phrase means summoning your inner grit, straightening your hat, and tackling whatever life throws your way, preferably without whining (or getting bucked off). And where better to channel your inner cowboy (or cowgirl) than Oklahoma City, the undisputed epicenter of all things cattle, dust, and derring-do? This city proudly sits at the crossroads of the great historic cattle trails and lays claim to the world’s largest stocker and feeder cattle market—talk about beefy bragging rights. Our journey east along I-40 from Amarillo, TX carried us through the Southern Great Plains, where the grass rolls out like a green-red carpet, ranches stretch as far as your eyes can see, and the sky is so wide you almost need a panoramic view just to take it all in. We passed herds of cattle so sizable, even the cows seemed impressed. Oklahoma City itself is a lively “Modern Frontier”, a city where cowboy boots and craft cocktails coexist, where neighborhoods like Bricktown pulse with energy, and where you can walk, eat, and dance your way through vibrant Midtown. Our last stop in the southwest set the bar high, but OKC was ready to lasso our heart, with a tip of the hat and a wink to the wild, wonderful West.

Needing to stretch our legs and watching the weather forecast for rainy days ahead, we spent our first full day in OKC by heading southeast to Thunderbird State Park. This popular recreational area spans 1,874 acres and features a 6,000-acre lake with 86 miles of shoreline. Established in the 1960s for flood control and municipal water supply, it’s well-loved for its proximity to the metro area and offers numerous hiking trails, boating, and camping options.

On a rain-soaked Thursday, we embarked on a thoughtfully planned historic walking and streetcar tour of sprawling Oklahoma City, led by Holly—a fifth-generation Oklahoman 

Centennial Land Run Monument in Bricktown

whose passion for her hometown was evident at every turn. Holly expertly wove together tales of the Land Rush, the oil boom and bust, and the city’s remarkable renaissance as we navigated the wide sidewalks and lively parks of Bricktown and Downtown. Oklahoma City’s vastness is staggering; with 620 square miles, it ranks among America’s largest cities by land area, giving it a truly expansive feel thanks to decades of annexations. Our journey began at the awe-inspiring Centennial Land Run Monument in Bricktown, where artist Paul Moore’s monumental bronze sculptures capture the frenetic energy of the 1889 Land Rush—forty-five figures frozen in a dramatic race for new beginnings. Highlights included the soaring Devon Energy Center, Oklahoma City’s tallest building, and the Chickasaw Bricktown Ballpark, home to the Triple-A Oklahoma City Comets and a crown jewel for baseball fans. We also stepped into The National, Autograph Collection, located in the First National Center This 1931 bank-turned-hotel features Tellers, a restaurant and bar located in the former bank lobby

Original Tellers Window @ The National, Autograph Collection  

where the original teller booths have been restored and kept as part of the décor. We zipped across the city on the spotlessly clean yet surprisingly quiet streetcar, culminating at the Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum. Here, amid the haunting “Field of Empty Chairs” and the enduring “Survivor Tree,” we paused in reverence for all who were impacted, a powerful reminder of both tragedy and resilience. The thoughtful design of our tour allowed us to experience the soul of OKC, blending its storied past and vibrant present, and left us eager to return and explore even deeper.

If you’re searching for proof that Oklahoma City stands tall as the epicenter of cowboy culture, look no further than the colossal National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum. This place isn’t just a museum—it’s practically a city block devoted to the legends, stories, and artistry that define the American West. With more than 28,000 Western and Native American artworks and artifacts, including iconic masterpieces by Remington and Russell, it’s clear why this institution is revered in cowboy folklore. You can stroll through a massive, immersive 13,000-square-foot replica of a turn-of-the-century Western town, soaking in the sights, sounds, and spirit of frontier life. Since its founding in 1955, the museum has cultivated an internationally respected collection, exploring every facet of cowboy heritage, rodeo culture, Native American history, and the adventures (and misadventures) of the frontier military. Judy and I were wowed by the interactive rodeo display, where we learned about Bareback Riding, Saddle Bronc Riding, Bull Riding, Tie-down Roping, Steer Wrestling, Team Roping, Barrel Racing, and Breakaway Roping. We discovered the legends behind these thrilling competitions, though I suspect we’d have trouble roping a stubborn suitcase, let alone a steer.

For any northern couple venturing here, like us, be prepared to marvel, laugh, and realize you’re more suited to fielding trivia about cowboy boots than actually wearing them in a rodeo ring!

Exploring the National Cowboy & Western Heritage Museum was very informative and entertaining, but one cannot visit Oklahoma City without visiting the Oklahoma City National Memorial & Museum. It is an experience that leaves a profound mark on your heart. This sacred site stands as a powerful tribute to the 168 lives lost, the survivors, and the courageous rescuers affected by the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building on April 19, 1995. The grounds themselves are deeply emotional—spanning three city blocks, every element is designed to evoke remembrance and resilience. Among the most moving features are the

Oklahoma City National Memorial 168 Bronze Chairs

Field of Empty Chairs: 168 engraved bronze chairs arranged in nine rows for each floor of the building, and nineteen smaller chairs representing the children whose lives were tragically cut short, mostly from the daycare center. Standing in front of these tiny chairs, you can't help but be overwhelmed by the enormity of the loss and the innocence forever stolen. The Survivor Wall lists those who endured the attack, while the Survivor Tree, an American elm that withstood the blast, symbolizes hope and renewal. Framing the memorial, the Gates of Time are inscribed with "9:01" and "9:03," marking the moments before and after the tragedy, with a reflecting pool signifying the actual explosion at 9:02 a.m. The Memorial & Museum is not just a reminder of history, but a place for reflection on what real domestic

terrorism looks like. Unlike recent rhetoric—where President Trump's administration labeled ICE protesters as “domestic terrorists”, this site marks the true horror and consequences of domestic terrorism. The Oklahoma City bombing was a devastating act, and the memorial ensures we never forget the difference between protest and genuine terror. The emotional weight of the grounds, especially the nineteen smaller chairs, makes clear the impact of that day and honors all those who suffered, reminding us of both the fragility and strength of our communities.

Jillian, Steven & Judy at Roxy's in the Plaza District 

We simply couldn’t leave Oklahoma City without immersing ourselves in the flavors and energy of the Plaza District. This lively, rejuvenated neighborhood, bursting with local art galleries, quirky shops, creative restaurants, and eye-catching murals, set the perfect stage for our late afternoon food tour, which felt more like a progressive dinner and entertainment extravaganza. Guided by Jill, a charismatic graduate student, we kicked off our culinary adventure at the Margarita Garden (Guatemalan), savoring Carne Asada Tacos packed with vibrant, authentic flavors. Next, we headed to New State Burgers & Spirits for what might just be the best burgers we’ve ever tasted. The tour was expertly organized, weaving us through several more delicious stops that could fill an entire blog post on their own. We capped off the evening with homemade ice cream at Roxy’s, followed by refreshingly fruity drinks at the Up Down Bar & Game Arcade. The Plaza District’s infectious energy and the seamless flow of the tour made for a memorable finale to our Oklahoma City stay, leaving us thoroughly satisfied and delightfully entertained. 

Reflecting on our whirlwind journey through Oklahoma City, it’s clear this “Modern Frontier” delivers a rich tapestry of experiences that defy expectations for a city so often underestimated by travelers. From the vast, sun-kissed plains and bustling cattle markets to the vibrant arts scene and mouthwatering food adventures, OKC surprised us at every turn. The profound visit to the Oklahoma City National Memorial reminded us of the city’s resilience and the enduring spirit of its people—a sobering monument that left us humbled and grateful for life’s simple joys. Yet, as we navigated lively districts, sampled decadent burgers, and failed spectacularly at roping anything more stubborn than our own luggage, we found ourselves laughing, learning, and falling for OKC’s unique charm. No matter how many times you tip your hat or polish your boots, it’s the warmth and humor of this city that truly lasso your heart. And so, we close another chapter, lighter in spirit and richer in memory, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.