WHY WE’RE NEVER BORED

By Monique & Barry Zander, the Never-Bored RVers

What a trip … and we haven’t been on the road for two months.  We bought a cabin in February, which has caused us to spend the past eight weeks making it livable.  That’s about to change, but before I climb up top to reseal around the Fantastic Fan and then hitch up for the first of two planned springtime jaunts, I’m going to fulfill an RV.net bucket list item – I need to share some thought about where you might want to go in your RV in the coming months …

… realizing, of course, that gas prices, particularly in the West, may keep you closer to home than you want.

Monique reads. She reads RV magazines, online travel items I print out for her (she prides herself on totally avoiding the computer) and travel brochures, particularly those we pick up at tourist stops as we cross the line into states. When we arrive in a town, she picks up one or two of the little free newspapers and travel brochures.  Add to that, I make notes when other RVers recommend places to see and things to do.

To put it briefly, her efforts have been very rewarding.

If you drove to Bannack State Park in Montana today, you would think you’d driven a long way to see a dead, gloomy ghost town.  We were up there to visit Glacier National Park and had the luxury of no pressing needs elsewhere.  Monique saw that Bannack Days were approaching, and since we hadn’t been to a ghost town in a while, we turned the truck southwest.

We pulled into the small campground Wednesday evening and after getting set up, we wandered a quarter-mile up the dusty road into the town.  Very disappointing.  We ambled along the dirt street lined with dilapidated 1800-era buildings and realized we had probably made a mistake.

Came Thursday morning, and we talked a bit with the rangers, who promised big things ahead.  Later that day, all sorts of vehicles began arriving, loaded with what would be needed to turn a hot, dusty, crumbling collection of old brick and wooden buildings into a thriving town.

Friday was set-up day, and as the only strangers in those parts with no role in the transformation, we got to witness a ghost gaining color.  The excitement of the people was contagious.  And that night we were invited to the vendors’ area to enjoy folk and country music around campfires.

We weren’t bored.

Saturday morning we climbed the hill again to be there for the start of Bannack Days.  Absolutely startling.  Every dingy, grey, paint-pealing building was occupied.  The volunteer force, all in period regalia, had set up demonstrations, musical performances and sales of crafts, ice cream and other authentic items.   Historic buggies and antique trucks carried 4,000 folks from one end of the street to the other, stopping whenever anyone was ready to disembark.

Whoa, stop the mules. It’s time to re-enact the famous Bannack shoot-out, guns blazing on the street while the gallows beckon by nearby Boot Hill.

The once pealing walls of many of the leaky buildings were dressed up for the party.  Missing cardboard that had been early settlers’ protection again Montana’s winters was covered with posters and pictures.  Cinderella had a ball … until Sunday afternoon, when she returned to her grey apron and emptiness.

That’s more than I planned to write about Bannack Days, but less than it deserves.   The point of this article is about finding life … and adventures … where you don’t expect it.

When we arrived in Westport, Washington, intent upon seeing the Pacific Ocean from the Great Northwest shores, we noticed a banner on a fence mentioning the Westport Blues Fest.  Didn’t sound like much, so we spent Saturday hiking along the coast.

Sunday we decided to drop in … WHAT A TREAT! We’re not much into gospel, but we were instantly swaying with a quintet of local singers who can hold their own with any gospel group.  Then the South Louisiana-style Zydeco band, joined by the vocalist daughter of the festival’s organizer, took the stage blasting out with sounds that make ya wanna dance … so we did.

Next, a young duo had us mesmerized with their soulful new-age renditions – I mean, really good. And then the blues harmonic challenge began.  We were into it from beginning to end.

Still never bored.

Up in Destruction Bay, Yukon Territory, most of our caravan traveling companions gave into the urge to relax by their rigs after a day of the worst road conditions of about 52 days on the road.  Their loss!  The three-piece band playing in the RV park café, and including the owner, was spectacular.  Who would have known?

In Sedona, Arizona, Monique read in a freebee paper that there was a Navaho Indian flutist playing at the Jewish temple that night and at the community center the next night.  That’s when we encountered R. Carlos Nakai – no doubt the greatest Indian flutist of all times.  He was joined by ­Udi Bar-David, lead cello player for the Philadelphia Philharmonic Symphony Orchestra.  I highly recommend that you buy the CD “Voyagers,” by the two of them accompanied by an Emmy-winning percussionist.  It’s breathtaking.

We try to never miss the opportunity to listen to the indigenous music, especially strummed by self-taught mountain folk.  And when we near a town with a local theater or a night when all the art galleries are open, we head that way.

Chattanooga’s Riverbend Festival; the Mountain View, Arkansas, Ozark Country Music Festival; Death Valley 49er’s Encampment Days; The Doheny Blues Festival in historic Dana Point, California; Fourth of July parades in small towns; history celebrations; things are happening everywhere spring-summer-fall.

If you’re interested in experiencing any of these, go to the web and look them up.  You may have to make a phone call for 2011 days and RVing availability, but it’s worth the effort.

We know it can be tough to pry yourself out of the comfort and congeniality of the RV park but lots of times there’s wonderful entertainment just down the way.  Obviously, we are always eager to find and participate in these events, and that’s why we’re the “Never-Bored RVers,” We’ll see you on down the road.

© All photos by Barry Zander.   All rights reserved