Dark Nest Travels : the Honeymoon & Yellowstone - 1996

Our wedding was a success! It had been a beautiful day with blue skies, the beginning of fall colors cascading through nature, and when Maria and I clambered into our minivan, at the end of our reception, it began to downpour. A sign that our marriage would flourish, right? We raced home to our house, got out of the vehicle and Maria realized her wedding dress had been dragging outside the van. We laughed about it. We smooched on Barney and Scrumpy, and then went to a hotel room that my parents had reserved for us that night, plans were that my sister would take care of the pets while we were gone. The hotel room was adorned with the typical practical joke, seran wrap over the toilet, and a bottle of champagne on our bed, which I still have, unopened, to this day, we won't drink it, but it's on a shelf in our house. We couldn't leave right away for our honeymoon because my Grandma wanted us to open her wedding present to us the next day.

We decided, since financially we weren't in the position to talk to a travel advisor and book a cruise, prior to the wedding, and take off to a Caribbean paradise, we were going to "go West". We woke up, ate breakfast at our favorite restaurant at the time, Loxton's, ordering our typical omelette a Carbonara. We then met the family at my parent's house and opened up my Grandmother's gift to us. It was a bread maker. Not too exciting today, but then, it was an awesome gift. We used that machine for more than ten years. We said our goodbyes to the family and then left. I had an atlas and our route roughly planned out. We were going to drive until we spotted something amazing. We discussed possibly making it to Yellowstone, so that's where we headed. We loaded the Escort, and we were ready to travel.

At the time, we didn't have Google Maps or GPS, for that matter, so I routed the plan taking I-80, or better known as The Lincoln Highway. The trip was a little boring, but when we entered near a corner piece of Colorado it got interesting. There were these vast mountains, The Rockies, before us, and they were majestic, something we hadn't scene in our lives on this scale. We trekked to Cheyenne, Wyoming from there and spent the night at a motel. There were some shady creatures there, making a lot of noise out the door of our room, which raised suspicion. I had a knife, so I was good, we didn't sleep well, but travel often did that, and the noise outside the hotel room was also keeping us alert for our own safety. It seemed the place was teeming with a modern day Wild West. We left early the next morning, when all the night animals of Cheyenne's society had decided to go rest while the remainder of the world started the day.

Wyoming, and the entire trip, really, was desolate, a sprawling unpopulated landscape. It was the end of September when all the other tourists were back to school, back to work, and here we were traveling through a moderate amount of traffic, it was peaceful, and it was decided that we picked the right month to travel. So often do other tourists take away from what travelers could enjoy and this time of the year took them out of the equation.

Wyoming was the least populated of the trip. We drove through scenic mountain views. We stopped at Thermopolis and soaked in a pool of hot spring water. It was refreshing, the sulphuric scent wafted, albeit a little stinky, through the air, and the natural warm water soothed the well traveled and abused muscles. We then journeyed deeper northwest into Wyoming, heading to Cody, where we would hunker down, create a base camp in a hotel and relax to enjoy the rest of our time.

The weather in Wyoming was snow, rain, more snow, and then sunshine. Here we thought Michigan weather was unpredictable and bipolar, but in Wyoming this time of the year, it was bizarre, uncanny and bordered on downright schizophrenic. It was a different world, from the weather, to the scenery. When we drove into Yellowstone, there was an abutment that led down to a ravine. On the other side of the ravine there was a family of three buffalo, trekking through the newly fallen snow gently landing on their tufts of fur. They were ambling in their habitat, naturally unmolested by humans, tourists, and cameras. The sight was surreal. Surreal, because the world is so inhabited by humans and most don't take the time to enjoy the beauty that nature has to offer. This beauty sealed the deal for us, the deal that in our future, travels would occur, and we would start with what the United States has to offer. So much of the world, and life, is hustle and bustle and the Honeymoon had helped us to relax, take a step back, and to take it in.

I could probably go on for pages and pages about what we did and what we saw, because there was so much that our eyes took in, but I'm going to end it here. Living vicariously is one thing, but to get out and do, brought dimension. Our marriage began, our trip to the west of the United States had initiated and unlocked an urge to travel, it woke the bug that lay dormant inside. The love and care that our family showed us to get us to our marriage and honeymoon destination was overwhelming, a lot like the scenery that we had enjoyed. We will never forget, we will always remember, and those memories will forever anchor us to those that matter, and the memories created.


Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : The Prelude & "the Wedding" - 1995

1995 was slightly chaotic and sad, life was slightly blurred, really. We were dormant in our travels, or at least limited to local travels. I won't go into the entire year, but, understand, '95 was one of stress.  In February Maria's mother had a heart attack and getting open heart surgery. She pulled through it, but it added stress to what was going on with us. I was in between jobs, Maria had to help take care of her family, so was out of work as well--- chaos and disorder commenced in a bizarre dance, almost mocking us with a sneer. We smiled back at it.

It was a testament that no matter what kind of shit balls came our way we would be able to prevail, move forward, and tie the bond that was sitting quietly and patiently on the sidelines. We were taking our relationship to its next level, yes, "the Wedding", as it was dubbed for almost an entire year while planning (personal joke between Maria and my mom).

The stress, the changes, none of these events held us down. Nothing stood in our way of progressing down the path of marriage. Now remember, we had been engaged for almost a year and a half, I said it before, we moved quick. We planned.

We had a running joke that by the time we tied the knot that Cherry Chip cake, Maria's favorite at the time, would be obsolete, that Metallica, my favorite band, would be played on the oldies radio station. Once a date was set for September 21st 1996, the entire year of '95 (which settled down and attempted to get smooth) into '96 was putting our heads into "the Wedding" and getting it to work.

It takes a village to raise a child, the old saying goes, it takes an entire family to help get the idea of a wedding on its feet and help it walk, quite literally, down an aisle, and come to fruition. Both our families were behind the scenes putting their handy work into our plan, into our future.

As '96 began to rear its head, the plans began to settle into a valley, the calm before the storm, September finally arrived. The dresses for the bridesmaid had to be switched a few weeks before hand. The dress that Maria's mom originally purchased for "the Wedding" wouldn't fit, and stress was at an all time high, the stress was feeding the moments, the memories, the smiling confidence that everyone had on their faces, as we worked through it diligently riding the waves. It was one of the most trying times in our history. The day, like everyday of our lives, had arrived.

The sky was blue, that morning. I woke from my parent's couch as tradition forced my hand at not seeing the bride until we walked down the aisle that afternoon, needless to say we were living together in our first home, but tradition is tradition. The trees were beginning their morph into color giving nature's warning that we were heading into Autumn and ambling head on into the day that would officially seal our bond, the day that made an entire year seem endless.

Our wedding song was "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica, our cake was Cherry Chip, and when we said our vows, our love for each other was as strong as it ever could be to pave the way into our future. I remember looking into the bright blue eyes of my bride. Pools of water on the surface, the quivering of the nerves in our lips was joy, it was happiness, and a feeling so intense because we did it, we were becoming Tim & Maria Eagle.

In hindsight, it may have been stressful, but I watch videos, I see pictures, and I weep. Not for the wedding itself, but for all of those people in our family who have left us since that day. The memories of those people, the happiness they had for our special day, the way that they had touched our lives was like a magic act without the illusion. They were all such a crucial part of our lives, and we have so much today to be thankful for all of them, those who left and those who are still around and a part of our daily lives, and that love is something that will never go away.

The next adventure begins the travel bug within. Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : 1994 - A Conclusion, Not the End

The Upper had a lot to offer, the Fall colors cascading over a beautiful landscape, the upper and lower Tahquamenon Falls and their beauty. It's breathtaking, really. My grandparent's home was wooded in the back. Behind those woods was a lake, a lake that from the eye went on forever, but in reality it didn't, it was just a body of water that formed in the middle of a vast mini-forest.

In my late teens I spent some time at their place and my grandmother took me and my cousin on a small hike through the woods. This had all started because a prior owner of the house left a hand drawn map, and what young man, boy, child, anyone, really, could resist exploring a map and have a quest? None that I know. We went back and looked at the lake that was dubbed, "Mitten Lake" scrawled simply on paper, I think it may have been a name made up by some local hunters of the area, only because of the title's cliche nature.

We saw a beaver dam. My Grandma found a log, it was about twelve inches long, the bark had been peeled from it, and both ends were gnawed to sharp points, it was similar to a pencil with tips on both ends. The work that was put into this by the tiny creature had been fascinating. It was the first time I'd ever seen anything like it. We never did see the beavers. What stood out to me was the way my Grandma looked out into the water, her demeanor was calm, as if the decision she and my Grandpa had made to move to this place was a crucial part of their life. It was that glint, that sparkle in her eye that what she was doing was right and pertinent in her own life's story.

Back to the present journey of 1994, Maria and I had a great rest in the Class C. We visited with my grandparents and I caught up with conversation since it had been awhile since I had visited with them. My grandpa, sitting at the table, his usual calm, cool and collected look, a cup of coffee, a pack of cigarettes and a book in his hand and Barney had instantly attached to him, often laying by his feet. They grew a bond in the short while we spent at the house.

Maria and I did some exploring ourselves, leashing Barney and took a walk in the woods and to "Mitten Lake". The lake hadn't lost the beauty that I remembered, the sun glowed over us, casting bright rays over the small waves of lapping water. A woodpecker could be heard off in the distance.  Birds were scattering and flitting from tree to tree. Squirrels were foraging through the fresh fallen leaves. We felt that peace, the same peace that consumed my Grandma when she took me out to the lake years prior. I wondered if I would ever achieve some of that in my lifetime.

While we ambled quietly through the wooded fire trails I pondered just where our lives were going to take us, how were we going to get there, and what lay ahead in our own future together? We were happy, in love, had the beginning of our future together, and I settled for just that, because the future can sometimes be muddied by events that attempt to cloud it, to tear it apart, and I knew deep down inside that the team we made together, there was nothing in the world that could separate what we had going. The journeys we made together, our blank canvas of life before us, were going to hold us together, to keep us alive, and to keep us who we are.

We were refreshed and ready to hit the road again back home, back to the slice of reality waiting for us, i.e. jobs, mortgage, etc, etc. Maria loved my grandparents, just as I thought she would. Barney, well, he didn't hate a thing in life, except for taking a bath, and my grandparents, they accepted many into their lives and grew to know and love Maria through the years. My Grandparents are both gone today, I like to think that they left us to continue somewhere else together, the loss of my Grandma just recently, and I miss them so much, but realize deep in my heart that they made their moments in life, they lived, loved, and inspired me to do the same. Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for the love of life that you showed me when you were here with us.

Thanks for stopping by and reading, I appreciate all of you! Make sure to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube, (for some future amature videos), and be sure to follow us on Instagram for some pictures. I'll be back soon with more of our story and Dark Nest Travels.

Dark Nest Travels : Our Travels in Autumn --- 1994

We were settled into the new homestead in the city. We were content. Our Barney had grown four times the size he was from when he was a puppy and it somewhat surprised us, but it didn't change how we loved him. Scrumpy, he just got older, wiser and more set in his ways, oh, and he became a lot less ornery.

Maria and I have at this point been with each other for about a year, we moved quick! We were "engaged" as it's put, just with no real plans or a date, or anything, why not, right? The most that "engaged" status did is moved the label "girlfriend"/"boyfriend" which seemed a ludicrous label, to "fiance", which sounded more distinguished. I really wanted her to see the family outside of my mom, dad and siblings. We decided that we were going to make a trip to the Upper Peninsula to see my grandparents. It was a good test to see if Barney could handle travel.

We had sold the Jeep Cherokee in trade for a Chrysler Town and Country minivan, it was getting serious, already with a minivan and our family hadn't yet expanded. We loaded the van, and took off on our journey. Barney turned out to be okay in a vehicle, but during the entire trip, he would not go to the bathroom, no matter what we tried. A seven hour trip took about eight hours due to stopping at rest areas to see if he would go. Ignore the baby face, the purple shirt and flannel clashing, in the picture below, it was in style! This was at one of the rest stops as Barney sniffed but didn't go!

My maternal grandma and grandpa, Ruby and Lee (short for Lawrence) moved, to their retirement home in the Upper Peninsula when I was still in High School. They lived in a small town named Gould City, Michigan, it was so small, if memory serves me right, it had one general store at the corner. Besides my parents, who took me everywhere a child would want to go growing up, whether it was camping in a tent, a Dodge camper van, or a motorhome, my grandparents influenced me greatly regarding my travel bug. They purchased a home, taking a kind of risk because the towns in the Upper were so far apart and amenities were few and far between. The nearest hospital was a chore to get too, sorry, I don't remember the mileage to it. They lived seven hours from our home. It was the "risk" part, the possibility of being snowed in with minimal road travel, the lack of population, all of it inspired me. The weather in the Upper could be unpredictable, and since I've heard of many of my grandparent's travels through the United States, them being there was just another one of their lifestyle changes. It was another place in their life that they could make work, plant a garden, make and enjoy the things that made them happy. Below is a picture of my grandparents when we visited them.

Grandma Ruby  5/31/1934-5/11/2018

Grandpa Lee  7/26/1930 - 10/3/2008

When we arrived to my grandparent's home Barney went right for the gusto, he didn't pee, instead, his back curled, and stay with me hear, he hunkered down and popped a steamy squat on the grass when he saw my grandparents on their back porch to greet us. (I included the dump sequence because if my Grandma was still with us she'd chuckle at it, I come by my sense of humor honestly). We got a good laugh at this. It was dusk, the light was dimming as the days were growing shorter. The fall colors were striking in the woods at the back of their property. My Grandma had set us up in their Class C small motorhome. It was a bit nostalgic for me because she and my Grandpa took this motorhome places I could only dream about.  I could envision them traveling to Arkansas, where my Grandma loved to look for gems, rocks, diamonds, even panning for gold on her adventures. It was uncanny to realize that they were at the retirement phase of their life, and that we were just beginning ours.

I will continue this in the next post, it's getting a little lengthy and I want to try my hand at keeping it engaging, hopefully I haven't lost anyone, yet. Thanks for coming along on our journey. Be patient, I'm not going to go through every single year of our life up until 2018, I'll skip around a little. I'll also have many more tales to tell on the Dark Nest Travels YouTube channel, our video creation, so don't forget to subscribe to that.

Dark Nest Travels : In Between, Settling and --- 1994

Everyone starts somewhere, so I'm going to, once again, take a trip down the path of the past. Maria and I started out in a stuffy one bedroom apartment. It was on a hill in a small city. Across the street there was blue water and occasional freighters would rattle the windows, as they floated along in the river. It was beautiful, but we, and our belongings, were outgrowing it, along with our cat Scrumpy, yes you read it right. He was a terror and the small confines of an apartment didn't suit him, cats will be cats, they own the world. Our apartment was bursting at the seams to get us out. Maria got the idea that maybe we needed to get a house. This was in February, 1994.

Here's a picture of Scrumpy.

It was winter, a soft one, if memory serves me right. We began our house hunting. There were so many houses to choose from, there was so much to look for, our pre-approval, which should have been meek, was ridiculous, which, thank goodness,we didn't drink that kool-aid, we stayed within our budget. We continued to look for a house that was within what realization and a hearty sense of reality could afford and we put in an offer on our future home. It was accepted, and come that April we were closing the deal, and became homeowners. Here's a couple shots of our corner lot, in the city, nice fenced in yard, garage, shed, and a beautifully landscaped lawn. Three bedrooms, just in case our family expanded (and God did it expand), a bath, and a den/study for this procrastinating author.

We were content, but really, just a cat and us? We decided to get a dog and journeyed to a Humane Society down river. We saw him, his reddish fur, his tore up long hound ears, bitten by his siblings, his big paws. He was adorable, and needed us, or more so, we needed him. We took him home, he barely fit on the passenger floor of our Ford Escort, and let out a lonely howl, we were in love. Believe it or not Scrumpy fell in love too, he seemed to calm down after the move into larger territory. The picture's a bit blurry, I must have taken it, Maria was the one back then with the eye to shoot a great picture, I wasn't.

So it all began, our house, our family, and us, we were so happy, and our hound, which we named Barney, who was the size of a Beagle as a puppy, grew into an almost hundred pound dog, but he was awesome, and Scrumpy, who was a terror, became a great and loyal friend to Barney. I remember when the sunlight used to stream in through my den's window, Scrumpy would curl up to our big skinny Barney and they would sleep next to each other for hours, content with the sunshine.

I'm going to end this post here. I have travels to talk about from 1994, but digging through these old photos and remembering how our beginnings were, is a bit emotional and necessary to write. Thinking about the pets we've lost, that were there from the beginning, and the memories we created with them when they were with us, brings tears to my eyes. It brings back a slight sense of sadness, a happy sadness, because they gave so much to us, more than we ever could give to them in return.

Dark Nest Travels : A Side Quest to the Past---1993

***Pictures included! I think it helps when pictures delicately attempt to paint the story. Okay, taking a small backward reprieve from our Airstream adventures, and yes, they do end up getting a little weird and peculiar, but I feel an explanation of our beginning and when our travel bug took hold will help cement these Dark Nest Travels together. In 1993 I met Maria. We hit it off, like some do, and began getting serious, end of story, right? I think not.

When we met, I had an idea that I was going to Maine. I was going to get in my red 1990 Jeep Cherokee, get an atlas, and drive. I didn't have a clue as to what I was going to end up doing there, other than take a picture of Stephen King's house since at that time I was a big fan of his fiction. When Maria found this out, she asked if she could come along. Of course, we were in that "pair bonding" stage of our relationship, where we couldn't think of anyone or anything but each other, we were in "love". It must have been love, because I'm writing about it today.

This was the summer of 1993. We loaded the Jeep and trekked through Canada and back into the United States at the New York border, it was the quickest route. The East Coast is beautiful. From the mountain ranges we drove through, to the sprawling blue of the Atlantic Ocean on the coast, the quaint towns spread out in between were a feast for our eyes. Since Maine was our destination that's where we headed after crossing the border, with a time frame for vacation we wanted to squeeze in as much as we could.

This was tourist season, probably August (my old brain gets a little funny with dates sometimes), we really lucked out finding our little yellow cabin, equipped with small kitchen, a bed, bath, and was just perfect, because it was the last one! We rented it for four nights in Bar Harbor, just outside the city. This was our home base. Here's a picture, yes, Michigan's plates were that boring!

We trekked through a *flea market, this was where people bought antiques, and collectibles, pre-ebay (*for those of you scratching your heads in wonder and confusion). We found a set of Whales carved out of wood, which still hang in our house, every house we've lived in, for that matter. Inside one whale is a male and the other a female. It was a little corny, but they were decorative and the price was right, we purchased them. I could go into some symbol of our future together and where our lives would take us based on these carvings, but I won't.

We spent some time on the Atlantic in Acadia National Park, a beautiful view with sandy beach and a loop designed to take tourists around nature's attractions, afterwards, we walked through the tourist town of Bar Harbor. Maria purchased a pewter wizard, it was the first of my pewter collection that would be added to in the years to come.

Next on the agenda was "the King", yes Stephen King. We stopped at a welcome center before entering Bangor and asked two eccentric little old ladies where Stephen King's house was. They willingly gave me the directions to the old, "infamous" is how they phrased it, Victorian home, that he lived in. We pulled into the front of the house, Maria, donning her 35mm Canon, took pictures, and then we waited, deep down hoping that we'd see him pull up or see his wife Tabitha, or some sign of an author's life. There was nothing. (side note, mid 2000's we sold a tea leaf green set of china, plates and tea cups to Tabitha King on ebay. I confirmed the address that it was getting mailed to and it belonged to the King's.)

We had a lot of fun, exploring, hopping on a Cessna plane and taking the cheapest tour circle over a bay of the Atlantic and Bar Harbor. We didn't see whales, it wasn't mating season is what we were told, after the tour. Cessna's are bumpy, almost equivalent, in my opinion, to getting on a riding lawn mower with wings. This one shuddered and shimmied, and the pilot was talking quietly over his mic. Maria was freaking out in the backseat, thinking that we would run out of gas, she later admitted. She was trying to get my attention, as I sat cramped in the co-pilot's seat, and I ignored her, laughing obnoxiously inside. I found out afterward that the flight was a test,created by Maria, to see if I'd freak out, it backfired, because she was very uncomfortable. I knew how to swim, I was good. We laughed about it later. Maria, amidst her panicking, took pictures because she was in awe of the beauty below us.

The trip eventually had to come to an end, and we decided to head back home, this time through the states. We wanted to take a peek at Old Orchard Beach, one last stop before we exited Maine, checking out more of the Atlantic, getting some beach photos and enjoying the sunshine and pier. We then drove through the Poconos, and headed out of New York, Pennsylvania, eventually into Ohio, we were on a mission to get home. Here's one of a very young me, we never had the opportunity to see whales, but we found a skull at a nearby museum.

On the way home we were scraping to the bottom of our barrel with our budget, had overspent, a theme of our life to come. We stayed in the back of the Jeep in a rest stop in Ohio, before entering Michigan. I was crimped in a fetal position, due to being six foot five, and our backs were tore up from an amplifier and the wheel wells. We hobbled into the rest stop, brushed our teeth and refreshed as best we could. We had just enough money for a couple more meals, a night in a hotel, near Detroit, prior to getting back to Maria's parents, and enough for some fuel. That was it. Bare bones. It worked though, and we got back without fail.

This was the beginning of our travels, laugh at my long hair and baby face, if you want, it was in style. Please enjoy the blog, click the link on the right to subscribe to YouTube---Dark Nest Travels, if you want some videography at its not so finest, and keep coming back for more reading, don't forget to follow us on Instagram (link also to the right). Thanks, again!

Dark Nest Travels : Moving Forward

Everything we've ever done in our lives seems to be for a reason, sounds cliche, right? Well, it is, kind of, but it's the truth when it comes to the path our adventures have taken us. It wasn't a month after Maria's idea to sell our Airstream, and I had a buyer contact us from the web site I posted The Mothership on. He seemed excited, and since I'd never pulled a transaction like this off, I explained to him that I would need a two thousand dollar deposit sent via mail in a Cashier's Check or Money order, this was before PayPal, and before internet transactions existed, or were in an obscure existence. The guy seemed so into The Mothership and that he sent us the money with urgency, with the agreement that he'd meet us halfway instead of coming to our home. He was living in Alabama and my halfway meeting point was Tennessee.

A couple days after, Tom, the owner in waiting, of our Mothership, called, he was frantic because he was having tow vehicle issues. I explained to him that if he could give us the full asking price for the Airstream, that we'd deliver it. Remember we had a brood of children, but I reached out to my savior's, mom and dad, and they agreed to watch the children while they attended our annual family camp. It was a relief to know that the kids would be in good hands on our "road trip."

This was 2005, Katrina still warming the southern states, but not quite ready to strike. It was at the end of July. Tom was located, which we found out after agreement to the delivery, at Fort Rucker in Alabama. He had just finished a tour in Afghanistan and was using his battle pay to purchase his new home, The Mothership. Upon finding out that this man had just finished a tour, we had to do something special. Maria wanted to give him a housewarming present. She purchased a grill, some dishcloths, and a bunch of other homey items that would come in handy to Tom. Our travel was on, we dropped the family off at a State Park and headed south.

Our nerves were like piano wire, tight and on edge. We were traveling with this Airstream for twenty four hours and had to be careful not to destroy it, get in an accident, or totally obliterate the fact that it was going to be someone's home. The drive was intense, through the mountains, around curves, every bump in the road, rattled us. We drove to the northern part of Alabama and pulled into a Walmart parking lot. It was so hot and humid that we couldn't sleep. Our skin was a slimy mass and clothes stuck to us as if they had been fused to our bodies. We traveled on, until we reached our destination about noon.

The soldiers at Fort Rucker had to inspect the Airstream and when we got our passes and the "all clear", we followed Tom, who was waiting, to The Motherships new landing sight. The park was wooded and beautiful with a lake set off to the side. There were out buildings that consisted of bathrooms and a mess hall. I drove to the spot where Tom had stopped his truck. I got out to inspect the situation and how I was going to back it in. Tom and a Lieutenant who was walking his dog nearby and "helping" were stating that we could back it in straight up this small hill of dirt/sand. I, sleep deprived, feeling dirty and sweaty, agreed, while Maria doubted my skills. I should have listened to her intuition, the receiver of the Airstream got stuck in a clump of mud with my attempt to back it in.

I got out, had to think fast and lifted the tongue up until the Airstream and the receiver got lifted from the dirt. I then found another way to back it into Tom's spot. I backed it in, got out and looked at my last handy back in job. Tom, who was laughing at The Mothership decals on the front above the Airstream logo, wanted a picture with us, and I wish I had it available to include here. You can visibly see the front of his gray t-shirt soaked with sweat and a grin spread across his face from ear to ear.

The Mothership had it's new home base, quite literally, a section of wooded paradise quaint with an Alabama scenery of wooded land and wildlife, a place where soldiers could live or camp with their families. Tom was a happy new homeowner. We left, cash in hand, and a new connection. Sometimes I wonder what happened with Tom, where he went? If he ever got married to the fiance he had mentioned from Texas. He was a good young man, just beginning his journey of life, and was so inspired to hear our Cliff's note version of our own life. As we drove off, looking back from time to time, still feeling that phantom limb, the missing Airstream, on the back of the van, a small tear, of gratitude, for Tom, and a little sadness, for the Airstream that wasn't ours anymore, filled me. We drove to a really great southern restaurant, to relax, take a break and to regain our bearings before our twenty four hour trek back home to Michigan.

Just before our dinner came to the table the cell phone rang. It was Tom, he was so grateful for the housewarming present, that Maria had placed in the closet out of view, and couldn't stop saying thank you. We told him to enjoy. The restaurant served the best southern Grouper and cobbler that we ever ate, someday, we just may find it, if it's still open and eat there again in a future adventure.

Tom stayed in touch for a little while. He sent our four sons post cards with pictures of Army jets and then we kind of drifted like people so far away from each other often do. The memory's still there, though, and we began the next challenge, after all, we couldn't camp without a travel trailer, right? The search for another Mothership was on.

Dark Nest Travels : Hello, MOTHERSHIP

First off, let me apologize for some of the previous posts and the blatant editing errors. I don't have the energy, because I'm a busy man, to correct them, and I don't feel guilty because of it. I will be less lazy, or hope to be with the next blog post and so on.

On that note, I'm happy to take you back to our first Airstream. The thirty one footer from 1972. It was beautiful in our eyes, and I dug up an awesome picture, taken a week or so after I backed it into our driveway. No, the Chevy Cavalier in front of it was not used to tow it home. Here it is:

We loved it and replaced the front with a tinted guard and eventually replaced the tires. We purchased this in 2003, in February, which I already noted. I remember the day I backed it into the very long driveway with ease. I began to muddle through setting it up. It had four stabilizing jacks under it. They weren't typical to travel trailer jacks. These feet came down as if an alien spacecraft had just landed and my dad made the comment, "it looks like a Mothership has just landed." Maria and I laughed, and hence the name The Mothership had stuck, moving forward. There was decals added above the Airstream logo, titled: The Mothership. It looked awesome.

Our first trip and family vacation with The Mothership was uncanny, but memorable. It was in January 2005, Maria and I were sitting on the couch, resting, the children tucked away in their corners of the house, their bedrooms, not time out. We were watching a reality show, remember that this was before streaming Netflix began, and binge watching took everyone by surprise, so our entertaining options were scant. The show was Wife Swap, or something to that nature. The couple that swapped were opposites and the show was ridiculous in plot and nature, but our "guilty pleasure" form of entertainment, to say the least. One couple was from Louisiana. It never dawned on us, at that time, that Louisiana was an actual place, we knew that it was part of the United States, but never gave it much thought. I had an epiphany, "Let's go to Louisiana." After a fast phone call to our aunt asking if she'd want to trek down there with us, it was decided we must go.

The preparation was a little costly, but we were determined on taking our Airstream to the swamp lands. We purchased new tires, I made a ramp for tire changing, I even packed an extra jack in the van for the front, just in case the old one stopped working. I sent emails to all the states we'd be passing through, began to map out directions, using Mapquest, yes, I said it, Mapquest, not Google Maps. Printed them out, put all my mapping into a briefcase, along with reservation papers. June 2005 rolled around and the kids were released from school for the summer. We loaded into our fifteen passenger Chevy Van, hooked up The Mothership, and were on our way.

History tells us today, that Hurricane Katrina was surfacing in the ocean. The weather was extremely steamy in the swampy atmosphere of Louisiana due to the looming storm being on the cusp. The temperatures were indexing at one hundred five degrees, maybe hotter. During the day, we romped around the state, visiting cemeteries, swamps, New Orleans, and Catfish Charlies for an AUCE (all you can eat) Catfish dinner. By the time we arrived back at the campground The Mothership looked like an aluminum can with condensation dripping on the exterior skin, ready to cool us, because I left the air on to cool it down during the day. Night time consisted of swimming in the pool and planning our next day, relaxing in the air cooled Mothership.

The trip was a success. It was hot, yes, and that fall when the news was showing the damage Katrina had done, we were looking at New Orleans in awe because we had just driven on those streets that were war torn by Mother Nature. It was sad, really, but we were able to experience the great swamp state, which by the way, loses a football field a day to swamp, in its natural glow and glory.

On the way home from that trip, Maria mentioned, that maybe we needed to get another Airstream and sell The Mothership. We put a for sale sign in the window, and I posted an ad in an Airstream forum. Months later, we sold her. This story will be in the next post. The original Mothership deserves more words, and I've taken enough of your time. Thanks for reading. Come back for more!

Dark Nest Travels : Vacations, Tents, Trailers & Airstreams

Maria and I have not always loved camping. In fact there was a time when we tented it. Yes, tented it! We usually camped with a ninety pound hound, named Barney, who took up a third of the tent. We loaded up a vehicle, usually our Dodge Caravan adorned with wood grained sides. We loaded up our hound and ventured, at least once a year, to a campground. What we didn't like was the sand and dirt that continued to find a way into our humble abode. It annoyed us.

On one Springish day, my mom told us about a travel trailer for sale. It lit Maria and me up. We explored the idea, a haven without sand and dirt, a place with hard sides that would give us the illusion that we were in a house. We checked out the travel trailer tip that my mom informed us with. It was an older unit, approximately twenty four feet long. It was orangish and white, our colors, really. But as we walked through it we noticed there was spongy floors, we opted out.

It was then that my wife started flipping through RV and Truck trader magazines, and we found a 1972 Corsair about an hour from our house. It was a nineteen footer. Upon inspection, it was spot on to what we wanted. At the time we only had three pre-teen children. We explored, realized that it was cute and we purchased it. It was a trip, a really unsafe trip as I blindly hooked this heavy small trailer to back of our 1985 yellow and white suburban and took it home. The safety chains rattled behind us, clinking on the pavement, the lights were coming unplugged, and when we got it home, there was more drama hitting us head on.

Those of you who love to pull trailers and were at one time inexperienced, can probably relate to this event. Our driveway in the city was elevated at the end, a large mountainous mound of concrete. The concrete beckoned to the rear drag bars of the trailer. We were making a spectacle of our virgin life to travel trailers as my wife was "guiding" me in. The entire block could probably hear us swearing as I finally got it in. The next step was cleaning it, everyone wants a clean house. We began the cleaning process and my nose, which most of the time is keen on smells, especially those smells that are similar to death and dead animals, picked up on something. It was funky, disgusting, and I instantly began to gag, I lifted up a cushion and the wood of a bench in the front that the smell was obviously coming from. It was a horrific mess where a squirrel had nested, blessing it's new found shelter with fecal matter and nesting material. I gagged, almost threw up, and let Maria and my oldest daughter finish cleaning. We owned that travel trailer for two years. We painted it almond and yellow, to match the Suburban and we looked like a bumble bee driving down the highway. It was a sight and I can say that most could safely see us miles away.

My father-in-law told stories. He always mentioned these creatures in the RV world, although he wasn't a camper, these aluminum structures that had a lifetime warranty to the original owners. They were called Airstreams. Of course, his influence on Maria was great, and before I knew it, I was digging into the Wally Byam legend and Airstreams.

At the time the web wasn't as intricate and as easy to navigate as it is today. So in my dusty den, in the late winter, as snow fell out my window, I posted a want ad for an Airstream. We were used to the Corsair and had since sold it for what we paid for it, and the idea of an Airstream that small was slightly ludicrous, because we knew our family may be growing.

The ad was responded to, and to my surprise it was close to home, not the hour away that the other trailer was. I responded back, we explored the thirty-one foot Airstream from the same year as the Bumble Bee, but it was long. We did fall in love, despites some minor imperfections. We put a deposit down and purchased it a month or two later.

I was shocked at the flow behind my 2001 Yukon. This Airstream was lighter than the Bumble Bee and yet was twice as long. I was convinced at that time that I would only own Airstream's. There was no question. All this camper, aerodynamic design and light! An RVer's paradise on wheels. It was exciting as I backed it into our driveway and, with a couple years of towing under my belt, I backed it in with confidence and my early onset skills. We were set on the path of being Airstreamer's and a new adventure was on the horizon.

I will continue this post with a Part Two. Just because it deserves detail. Remember, although there's no content on our YouTube channel, I would really appreciate getting everyone to subscribe. So, hit this little link: Dark Nest Travels and click the subscribe button, I promise, I'll try to give you the best entertainment that I can, and promise, I'll evolve and get better at my videos. Thanks for reading, stay tuned for Part Two!