This week’s ramblings take us to Wheaton, Illinois and a little trip down a small portion of Rt. 66.  I believe this will be a two-part rambling.   Mr. Trent had the opportunity to play the Wheaton All Night Flea Market, so we packed our things, hopped in the van and headed toward the windy city.   We rolled in early as the vendors were setting up their wares.  The fairground   was bustling with activity-preparing for the onslaught of shoppers.   We checked in with Mr. Decker-he had set up a green room with cold beverages, snacks and a nice cool area.  From that point on it was a blur of activities-one important one was keeping Mr. Trent and myself hydrated.  It was a steamy day-I longed for a paper parasol and the bit of shade it would supply.  I saw a little girl walk by with one.  I played with the notion of offering to buy it from her-but she was so excited walking and twirling it-I knew that she wouldn’t part with it.   Now don’t get me wrong I am not complaining about the heat –especially after last winter-but it was a scorcher.

Mr. Trent must have played for 8 hours that day.  It was a lot of work but also a lot of fun.   There were some very big crowds and as it usually happens with our travels we met a lot of interesting people.   As Mr. Trent played his music, I was admiring all the treasures people were carrying-their eyes darting to and fro eyeing every inch of the grounds for the perfect bargain.  Then there were those whose arms were full and feet were dragging, eyes glazed over after a full day of rummaging through aisles and aisles of treasures.  I think this was probably the coolest and largest flea market I have ever been to.  Locally we do have the Hartville flea market which is very large, but the Wheaton flea market was very interesting.  I have to say the All Night Flea market is definitely a must see! 

When we headed out we were in a rush so there wasn’t too much site seeing.  After leaving Wheaton, we slept in a truck stop parking lot and planned some stops along the Illinois portion of Rt. 66 for the way home.  After we settled in there was some pretty intense storms but when we woke up the weather was beautiful. 

We started meandering down Rt. 66-in and out of new routes and portions of areas by the original road to our first stop Dwight, Illinois.  We went to the Ambler-Becker Texaco Station.  I was thrilled to walk around.  The station was manned by a volunteer that told us many stories about all the different people from all over the world that visit the little town of Dwight.  Believe it or not we were not the first to revisit the “Mother Road”.   I know I have said this before but when we travel to these places I get sucked up into the history of it all.  I can envision life as it was many years ago with the different people riding throughout time in-or on-beautiful machines.  I can only imagine how refreshing it was to refuel and grab an ice cold Coca-Cola.  On this note I will stop.  I will continue these next week, it is getting late and I am becoming a bit long winded.  So until then –safe travels and sweet dreams!

The second weekend of August took us all the way to Symco, Wisconsin for a pretty spectacular hot rod show.  Steve played this event last year and we had a lot of fun.  So it was a return trip, a busy working trip with not much time for photography.  I don’t just take pictures, I take care of Mr. Trent too along with his guitars.

Well this was quite the trip as it started off pretty rainy so after the first evening of playing we parked the van out in the middle of a field – designated for camping and slept, we both were exhausted it had been a long trip and a tuff work week beforehand.  The van has been modified to be pretty accommodating with an elevated bed, sink, camping toilet and a place to store the cooler.  A little claustrophobic  for me,  but Mr. Trent had put an awful lot of work into it so I was going to make the best of it.  That night it rained, and rained and rained some more-nice for sleeping but we both were hoping that the rain would stop to help the festival be a success.  The morning came and I timidly peaked out the door to make sure we were not floating.  I breathed a big sigh of relief when I saw we were still on some pretty solid ground.  That didn’t last for long.  I will mention at this time that my goal for that day was to stay dry and to keep my hair in a spectacular giant teased up form.  We went to turn around to head in to set up the gear and we were faced with a situation that many couples face.  I stated  simply and firmly “I don’t think it is a good idea to turn around over there” .  Mr. Trent disagreed with me, well this conversation went on for a few minutes until there was a snappy “I told you so” from me and the van was stuck in the mud.  Not funny at the time.  I was beyond salty about this little mishap.  Finally after much trial and error and a lot of struggle two very nice gentlemen came and pulled us out.  My goal for the day was long gone ….my big hair plastered flat to my head with mud and water, I was soaked.  As I walked through the festival searching for the showers I had several people say things like “poor thing” or “my goodness you are wet!”  My favorite was “I believe someone is selling ponchos”  I thought to myself “little late for a poncho now”

Well the day went on.  Mr. Trent found a nice place to set up under a roof and the music commenced.  The rain subsided.  The earth started slowly drying up.  Luckily the rain didn’t  keep people away while it was coming down, which I was very happy to see.

Symco was a fun success and we had to load up and quickly head over the Warren, Ohio way for another car show.  We went from wet and cool to very hot and humid in about twelve hours.  That was another very fun event but I was very glad to head home, see the pets and sleep in a room without wheels, and take a nice hot shower.

There are so many things to write about this summer, It is hard picking one for this week.  This is a journey to a structure that was once an incredible building.  In its glorious confines at one time-way back when-people came to this place by the hundreds to take of the healing country air. 

Molly Stark Hospital got it’s start as a TB sanatorium –at one time I am sure it was a vision to see-with Spanish revival architecture, stunning verandas, balconies and of course many many windows.  As we walked the grounds I wondered what it must of felt like to be so ill and in such a fragile state entering this once beautiful structure as a last hope of survival.  I imagine some thought they might never leave, and I am sure there were many that never did.

The sanatorium is rumoured to be haunted by many, but our trips there so far have only found a building that is crumbling with time, vines climbing everywhere as if trying to take back this piece of earth, pulling the structure down.  Of course there is a large amount of senseless vandalism-which I really don’t understand.  Here is a masterpiece of the past we should be respectful of the history-embrace it not destroy it.  There are warning signs everywhere on the building.  No trespassing, danger asbestos.   These signs do not stop people from entering- park employees are continually replacing boards over large openings where windows were.   The building itself is a ghost from the past looming in the bright sun.

I don’t imagine this building as it is now I see it as the original vision it once was-nurses bustling about, patients lying in beds in front of windows, wheel chairs on the verandas, and people in the later stages of healing walking the grounds.  All taking in the air and sunshine needed  -as once was believed to cure this illness.  Now the building holds air that will bring illness.  As we peered in the small openings a musty breeze would blow out, stifling breath.  Threatening those wanting to enter –say away.  As if the building itself is speaking.

Over the years it was many things, and now it is part of Stark Parks.  You can walk the grounds, picnic and enjoy looking at this once glorious place.  Wear good shoes and be weary of the broken glass, and pieces of brick, there are also some holes around the path so keep your eyes open but it is definitely a must see!

*all images were taken without entering the building and were taken of things as found

Each year as summer moves past that halfway point we have a little festival in our area-The Pro Football Hall of Fame Festival.  Some of you may have heard of this.  For those of us that work in safety services it means a lot more activity.  People flock to our area to participate in all the events-the game, the parade, the inductees, the brunches, fashion show, ribs burn off, and my favorite part the hot air balloon competition.  We are so lucky to live somewhere, that once a year many hot air balloons grace our skies with their presence. 

When the weather is good, and the winds are just right they slowly fill and lift up over the trees.  The bright colored balloons with all the different shapes drift through the sunrises and sunsets of our area. 

There are some noises that are clearly distinguishable and the whoosh of the burner as it heats the air is one of them.  I can be in my house and hear that whoosh  outside, and I know to step out my front door and look up.

 I used to love Saturday and Sunday mornings to watch the balloon competition, because once upon a time only a few diehard competition watchers would be out in the morning-not so much anymore.  I used to sit peacefully and drink my coffee and take it all in.  Now there are crowds at all times watching the balloons.  Not that the crowds are such a bad thing, I am well aware of how important tourism is for our area.  We really only have a short period of time we put up with the extra traffic.   Just when I get used to all the traffic, everyone starts heading out, the crowds become smaller and our skies are a little emptier without the beautiful colors and wonderful shapes…..until next year.

I wrote this Monday’s Ramblings several weeks ago from the comfort of our little RV-driving through the beautiful countryside via the PA turnpike.  Our adventure at the end of June took us to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Steve had a gig at a little known venue-The Compound.  There were many good things about this trip-first we were fortunate to see old friends that we have missed and wish we lived closer too.  Second we were lucky enough to see some other great performances also.  Third we were in the incredible city.  Fourth Steve and I spent some quality time together-which was much needed I might add.  And of course fifth is just our awesome adventures in this old beast and seeing cool stuff in this great country.  I gotta tell you there is nothing like driving down the road, drinking a fresh cup of coffee –just made in the back-enjoying the country side, and typing on my laptop.  Technology still boggles my mind.

The trip out was pretty much a straight trip to Philly via the least toll route possible   We took a few minutes to visit the Jim Thorpe memorial and stretch our legs.  We of course slept in a Walmart parking lot.  We were going to stop by Clifton New Jersey and see some friends playing at a club there, but decided too many shenanigans in the RV are not a good idea so we continued in to The Compound.  I was delighted at the sight of the compound-part of an old textile factory converted into venue, garage and living space.  The garage is filled with old cars –it is literally like stepping back into time with these dusty old automobiles in various stages of repair.  The show was done, and even though it was great to see old friends there was one face missing in the crowd- a wonderful person, she was so welcoming to us last time we were in Philly, both she and her husband  made Steve and I feel so at home.  Sadly she passed away last year-she was a wonderful person with a big heart who touched so many people’s lifes.  She is missed by more people than she could ever imagine.

Well after we left The Compound the next day we headed over to Joe’s Steaks and had a delicious Philly cheesesteak.  After that we decided to cut through route 30.  Boy was that interesting and slow moving.  We got to Gettysburg PA just after the visitor’s center closed.  Unfortunately we had a bit of a plumbing break down in the motorhome so I was definitely looking forward to the bathrooms-which of course were locked –even the outer ones we were told would be open.  At this point I was tired and salty so we continued on our way once again.

We putted through the Appalachian mountain chain-and I mean putted, we top out at about a max speed of 25 going up those hills and coming down well we had to pull over when the breaks got a little hot-I sure didn’t want break fire #3!

We did a little antiquing to finish the trip.  We finally were home and greeted by some very happy pets.  We then unloaded and parked her until we can give the plumbing a little love and we have a new adventure.