Trans-America Trail and Beyond

Grabow

Adventurer
http://www.adventureornothing.me/

Our last week in Denver was a whirlwind. We sold a large portion of our belongings in a yard sale and gave what didn't sell to Brian's daughter, Rachel. What she didn't want, we threw away. What we weren't willing to part with was packed into a moving truck and sent it on its way to KY.
The plan was to leave on Friday. Friday turned into Saturday…Saturday became Sunday. Finally, we left Denver on Monday evening and, after making one final stop at Illegal Pete's for a delicious burrito, drove about an hour or so south, and stayed at a campground a few minutes outside of Colorado Springs just to get the trip started. Finally! We were on the road!
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Though we don't technically count it as a part of our "great adventure", that first night was perfect. We sat around the campfire and had one of those conversations that come only after smoking some of Colorado's finest and drinking wine, about how cavemen might have figured out that they could cook meat over fire.

The next morning, we hiked a short trail and saw a few rabbits, a couple of deer and a baby rattlesnake. We took a few pictures while trying to keep our distance. After a few cups of coffee and tea, we headed out to find the Trans-America Trail near Trinidad, CO. As soon as the Jeep tires hit the dirt road, we high fived and laughed about how exciting it is that this is now our life. The giddiness was tangible.

Day 1 on the trail was perfect. The Colorado landscape is beautiful; even at it's least scenic. The weather was great and we each got some sun on our window arms (Brian's instantly turned tan. Carley's: a bright lobster red). After a few hours of following the blue line on our GPS through county roads and private property, we found a spot to set up camp just off the side of what we think was a State Trust road (whatever that means). As we drove back behind the trees to hide out from anyone who might tell us to leave, we noticed that there was at least a few dozen dried up cow patties scattered around our campsite. We shrugged our shoulders and tried our best not to step in them. Brian joked about us waking up surrounded by cows. Luckily, they kept their distance, mooing throughout the night. After a delicious dinner, Brian gathered some rocks to build a fire ring and we watched the sun set behind a snow-capped mountain. In the morning, feeling a little anxious about our slightly less than stealthy location, we made coffee and tea to-go and headed back out on the trail.

Day 2 on the trail was fun!…and then boring. The GPS offered a secondary route (easier/paved roads) for the next leg of the trail. Agreeing that we didn't want to cheat ourselves out of the adventure we were after, we continued on the questionable route and got exactly what we asked for. The Trans-Am Trail took us off of any discernible road and onto farmland with only faint tire tracks to follow. At one point, we came to a closed gate with two beautiful horses standing guard. We could tell right away that they wanted inside. Assuming they were locked out for a reason, we moved quickly. Carley hopped out to unlock the gate and as soon as they saw where she was headed, they darted for the entrance. Brian honked the horn to spook them and it worked! They backed away just long enough for Brian to pull through and for Carley to return the gate to it's locked position. We snapped a quick picture of them before we continued on our way.
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The trail quickly turned into a winding rocky mess that led down into a canyon. This was by far the most technical portion of the trail that we had seen. A washout almost prevented us from making it through but we slowly inched by narrowly escaping a rollover.
A few miles later we realized that what had we assumed was an optional bypass on the map was in fact a mandatory re-route. We had come to a dead end. An 8 ft. fence had cut off the trail and we couldn't find an opening. After assessing the situation we realized that our options were limited. We could try to disassemble the fence and repair it after passing through, although that option might get us shot, or we could backtrack past the washout and cross our fingers that we were as lucky the second time through. Neither option sounded promising. There was another trail that obviously headed in the wrong direction but we felt that following it was still probably the best option we had, hoping that it led us to civilization. The trail followed the fence line and dumped us back onto the Trans-America. Luck was on our side! Note: When we found our way back to the trail, we had to let ourselves through a gate with a large sign on it that said "NO BIKES" i.e. no TransAm Trail traffic.
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The sections of the trail through northeast New Mexico and the panhandle of Oklahoma are flat and boring and we found zero quality options for decent camping or RV parks. Each “RV Park” that we rolled past seemed to be more of a permanent living/temporary meth lab type situation than what we were looking for. Keeping mostly on the trail, we pushed on to Elkhart, KS to seek shelter. Checking our atlas, we found a campground called Cimarron National Grasslands Park. From the entrance sign, we drove for about five miles through a couple of cow pastures before we came to the campsite. We were pleasantly surprised to find that the campsite was shaded, clean, and empty, we would have it all to ourselves. The only problem we had were the approximately one million tiny bugs dropping onto us from the trees that shaded every campsite. They were harmless other than the fact that they were annoying as hell. Luckily they all but disappeared as soon as we started our fire. Daylight turned to dusk and the sunset lighting turned camp into an even more beautiful space. We had dinner, some wine and a solid nights sleep.
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We decided to skip the next couple sections of the trail since the view from the pavement seemed identical to the view from the dirt. Both the roads and the trail were flat and straight, and the wear and tear on the jeep from washboard and potholes didn't seem worth it. Once again, we turned to the atlas for guidance and found a campsite at the Great Salt Plains Lake right next to the water. We rolled in around sunset and hurried to set up camp and make dinner before sundown. There was a burn ban in the park, so Brian hung our LED string lights on the awning, thus attracting every single bug in the vicinity. Bug spray was no help. We battled the June bugs dive-bombing our faces and the billions of tiny white flies for a short time before realizing that we could simply move from under the awning and still enjoy the lights without being constantly attacked. Because we were camped right on the lake, and didn't have a fire, it wasn't long before we had some furry visitors as well. A possum, a very large skunk, and a couple of kangaroo rats visited us. All in all, it was a pretty entertaining night.

Wake up, shower, shave, and back on the road. As the landscape changed from gold to green, and the terrain from flat to rolling, we decided it was time to get back on the dirt. Within only a few miles we passed three “bridge out” signs. Luckily, all of them had been recently repaired and no re-routing was necessary. These roads were nice rolling hills, through pretty country. You could see by the ruts though that rain could easily change the driving conditions.
We decided to find camping at Kaw Lake in OK, knowing that such a large recreation area would have some decent camping. We made camp early at Mcfaddens Cove and settled in for a relaxing evening. We hadn't really considered that it was a Friday and with the weather being beautiful, how many people might decide to go camping/fishing for the weekend. It's summertime! We quickly found out that Kaw Lake draws in a lot of the “noodling” community. I'm sure you're familiar with the fishing sport popularized on television, where the fisherman (generally a large fellow, loud, and with a thick southern draw) sticks his/her arm into the murky water under rocks and ledges with the hope that a giant catfish might bite onto their arm.

As we sat sipping Bourbon, playing Scrabble, and looking like a couple of uppity Yankees,(despite being Kentucky born and raised) our campsite was flooded with the “hootin and hollerin” of said noodlers. Trucks were doing burnouts, babies were screaming, and the cheap beer and loud music were flowing. We had picked the wrong campground, and the sun was starting to set.

The only remaining campsite in the joint was less a few feet from ours and, just as we had feared, a gaggle of young party-time types rolled in and set up shop. Don't get us wrong, we were 20-something's once and could (maybe still do, on occasion) get loud and wild with the best of em'. However, that wasn't the scene we were looking for on this particular night. We debated for a few minutes whether or not to abandon our already-paid-for-non-refundable-spot in search for something a little less rowdy. Realizing that we were definitely posted up at Party Central, we opted to relocate to the family friendly Washunga Bay. The tent sites toward the back of the campground were empty and fairly secluded despite being right on the lake. YESSS!! We each gave a sigh of relief as we cracked open a cold one and proceeded to enjoy this low key evening; sun fading behind the trees and water lapping on the shore.
In the morning, dark clouds and strong winds had us convinced that rain was eminent. To our surprise, the clouds quickly gave way to the blazing sun, but left behind a slight breeze to keep us cool. As we sipped coffee, Brian kept a watchful eye on the lake, pointing out turtles, brightly colored birds and the like. We even got to watch a blue heron eat its breakfast as we ate ours. Since the weather was so nice and camp was already set up, we decided to take a day off and stick around for another quiet night by the lake.

Another gloomy morning, coffee and tea and we're back on the road. Today's portion of the trail really took us through some beautiful country. Winding dirt and gravel roads split the lush greenery of eastern Oklahoma. It also brought us to another bypass that we opted to continue down instead of go around. This portion presented us with our first water crossing, the only portion of the trail thus far that had serious mud, and only the second time on the entire route that we have had to use 4wd. Nothing too sketchy or serious but we definitely couldn't have done it in 2wd. Capturing video was unsuccessful due to user error. Technology is hard sometimes.

Needing a shower, clean clothes, and WiFi so we could send this trip report out over the wire, we opted to drive a little out of the way (actually, way the hell out of the way) to a KOA in Sallisaw OK. Which is where we're currently sitting, typing away, at a tent site in the far corner, with the computer plugged into the ant infested electric hook up, sipping a 3.2 Coors Banquet Beer due to poor planning. Apparently Oklahoma doesn't allow the sale of proper beer (or liquor) on Sunday.

And things couldn't be any better! ☺

p.s. Thanks to the super friendly family who run this place, for going out of their way to make sure we have enough bandwidth to post this update.

Turtles helped across the road: 14 and counting
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Grabow

Adventurer
IMPASSABLE ROAD AHEAD

http://www.adventureornothing.me/

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Saturday, June 7, day 13 “on the trail”. In quotes because technically we are about an hour and a half south of the trail in Hot Springs AR, sitting on the outdoor patio of the grand Arlington Hotel, enjoying a stiff Bourbon ginger ale. The first time in nearly a week that we’ve had access to WiFi, It’s pouring rain and a little windy, perfect for the task of reporting our travels.

Monday at the KOA we woke up to rain and decided to take the opportunity to do laundry and catch up on the Internets. We didn’t feel like standing in the rain to make coffee so we hit the local coffee shop in Sallisaw. A kind of “Grandmas Coffee Corner” type of place, the coffee was mediocre at best, not unlike what Brian has been brewing up each morning in the percolator.

Back on the trail under grey skies. The lush greenery against the red earth made for a beautiful drive today. Other than that, nothing really notable on the trail. We made camp near Devil’s Den State Park, Arkansas. Although there was a State campground, free camping is easy to find all along the river/creek on any of the offshoot roads from the main road that the TAT follows. There are some huge campsites, closer to the State campground, that are obviously popular with what we hope are the local youths. Trash was strewn about the empty campsites and the fire pits were littered with the skeletal frames of camp chairs and charred remains of tents and river floats. We chose a nice clean spot about a mile down the road, and settled in for a relaxing night of music, wine, and campfire.

Coffee, mimosas, break down camp, and back on the trail. The soundtrack for the day- Ben Gibbard and Jay Farrar’s “One Fast Move or I’m Gone: Kerouac’s Big Sur”. Today’s drive is perfect and will prove to be one of the most technical/exciting days on the trail.
For the most part, these trails are well maintained and smooth. The first half of the day had us humming Waylon Jennings and daydreaming of drifting around the curves in a bright orange Charger running from the local law. It wasn’t long though before we saw the road sign that we had been nervously anticipating: Warloop Road.

Through Brian’s extensive research of the route, Warloop Rd. had come up quite often as the most technical portion of the whole trail. Many had warned all to steer clear of the few miles, while a few others had said not to believe the hype. We figured that we could always turn around if it looked too sketchy. I mean, as long as the trail wasn’t too narrow, or steep, or muddy, or rocky, when we determined it to be too dangerous we would be able to turn back, right? Apprehensively, we rolled onward.

For about the first mile or so, smooth sailing, so far so good, then a sign: IMPASSABLE ROAD AHEAD. Even more anxiety, this is the first week of our hopefully yearlong adventure; what if we destroy the massively underinsured Jeep. What if we seriously injure ourselves…or worse? We had a short nervous discussion about how we each felt (secretly hoping the other would save us from the decision we were about to make) and decided to keep going.
Then we came to a bit of a roadblock in the form of a giant mud hole. There was a cliff straight up to the left of the mud, and a newly constructed barbed wire fence on the right (obviously put in place by a local landowner to keep people from going around the mud, and through his property). Between the mud and the barbed wire was a raised patch of somewhat solid ground, debatably wide enough for us to fit our Jeep through. Carley marshaled as Brian advanced our machine. After several attempts, we gave up on circumventing the mud hole. We were too top heavy, and may roll if we slid the Jeep off of its narrow perch. We were going to have to go through, rather than around. After making sure that we had enough winch line and straps to reach the nearest tree if we bottomed out, we dismounted the sand ladders and sunk them directly into the stagnant water in hopes that they would create enough of a foundation for the Jeep to make it across. This mud hole was big and ugly and, according to Carley who had to stick her hands in it repeatedly to reposition the sand ladders, “suuuuuper gross”. Inching forward from one ladder to the next we made it through. Our clothes were covered in muck and our faces with sweat as we gave a messy high-five and moved on up the road.

Note: I do believe that anyone attempting this trail in a 4x4 could probably just drive across this mud hole, it seemed well packed and stable under the water. Of course I discovered that on further inspection only after we had already passed.

We might have assumed that the worst of the road was behind us, if we hadn’t already seen videos declaring otherwise. We anxiously navigated our way up the hill; going over and around the rocks protruding from the ground, and silently wondered how bad our decision had been. As we slowly approached the obstacle that videos and discussion boards had warned us about, I couldn’t help but feel like we had been overly worried once it came into view. It is certainly an obstacle that could prove fatal if someone were to approach it carelessly, but any stock 4x4 with decent clearance should be able to clear it without incident, especially if they were doing the trail from east to west ie: downhill. Again, with Carley (nervously) marshalling and using a couple of strategically placed rocks and the sand ladders as ramps up the ledge, we were easily up and over what was “the most technical terrain on the TAT”.

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The next few miles were easy going. That is, until we came to a sign that read Bridge Out. We wanted to investigate since these signs had proven to be wrong or old in recent history. However, as we crept down the dirt road, we saw that there was a logging truck with a few other pieces of machinery blocking the way. We backed up to turn around and figure out a re-route, when Carley saw out of the corner of her eye that the truck driver was waving us over. He was a friendly fellow in his mid-thirties with a deep, southern drawl and only 3 full fingers. We imagined the rest, only nubs, were casualties of the trade. He assured us that we could make it across the bridge, saying, “It’s just a little bitty hole”, making a circle with his hands roughly the size of a soccer ball. “I could drive my ******kin’ logging truck across it if I wanted to” and, in fact, had done so a few days prior, earning him a $240 ticket. “They hide out just past the bridge, off to the left”, he whispered. With our intel, we scouted the bridge and it’s potential cop hide-outs. All clear! So we crossed the bridge, driving around the “little bitty hole”, and continued on our route.

A couple of miles down the road the GPS signaled another re-route, and once again we disregarded said re-route. Just at the beginning of what the new route would have bypassed, was a sizable but easily drivable mud hole. We assumed, incorrectly, that maybe after hard rains, it was not easily navigated on motorcycles, and thus the reason for the re-route. A few minutes later we came to the actual reason for the bypass, a serious water crossing. It wasn’t necessarily the depth that was concerning but the strength of the current. The water was only about two and a half feet deep or so but the current was very strong, and the crossing was easily over 100’ wide. There were some locals sitting in the water near the riverbank across from us. Brian yelled across to ask how deep it was in the middle, to which one of them replied, “you’ll probably make it” and the other said, “ I didn’t make it a few weeks ago, but it was a little deeper then”. We weren’t really sure what to make of their responses. What did they mean would happen if we didn’t “make it”? Did they think the water might be too deep and it would kill the motor, meaning we would need to be pulled out? Were the rocks in the riverbed too big to easily go over? Or did they think that the current was strong enough to wash the Jeep down stream? Not that any of the scenarios sounded appealing, but we really wanted to know what insight they might have, seeing as though they knew this place. One of them was nice enough to walk across the river in the spot where they said we should try to cross to show how deep it was. It was just over his knees, and aside from fighting the current; it didn’t look to be much trouble for him to cross on his feet. So, with fingers crossed we entered the water. Luckily the riverbed was pretty smooth along the bottom and allowed us to keep a steady pace all of the way across. For once, we were happy that the jeep was weighted down so much. A lighter vehicle would have been moved by the water with unknown results. For smaller, lighter trucks or motorcycles, the re-route is advisable.

We were sad that we didn’t get video of the crossing, but opted not to try our luck again just for a photo op. The water made some of the Jeeps electronic controls go haywire for a few minutes after the crossing causing our ABS not to work and making it necessary to immobilize the traction control for a couple of hours. Fortunately all was well when everything dried out.

Still reeling from our eventful day, we moved on down the road to Ozark, AR and made camp at the Ozark Powerhouse campground. Exhausted and dirty, we opted to cook dinner, shower and call it a night.

Wednesday morning was stiflingly muggy and by 11am it was 80 degrees. Refusing to use the AC, we were a bit warm, so Brian suggested we take a break from the trail and dip our toes in some water. We could see the shallow, blueish-green, meandering water from the road, calling to us, “come swim…you’ll be so happy in here”. Several unsuccessful attempts were made to find a proper swimming hole in what we later found out is the Mulberry River. Making an abrupt turn off the trail, Brian said “this is my last try…after this, we give up”. We drove down a bumpy, sandy trail that led presumably to nowhere, to find the most perfectly blue-green, waist deep water with just enough of a shallow end to drive the Jeep across. Which of course, we did after a couple of mimosas, a beer and a quick river bath.


We changed out of our swimsuits and tossed them up onto the roof of the Jeep to dry while we put on our clothes and planned out our next section of the trail. About a mile back onto the trail, Carley noticed some fabric caught in the door, blowing in the wind. It was her bathing suit! We immediately pulled off the road to retrieve it and to see if Brian’s trunks had somehow made it too, but of course, they hadn’t. It took only a few minutes of driving to see that they had flown off of the roof and into the middle of the oncoming traffic lane. We watched as a truck ran them over and three motorcycles swerved to miss them.(pretty much the only traffic we’d seen all day) Once back in the Jeep, Carley inspected the trunks, the damage was minimal…just dirty.

A few miles up the road, we came to a quaint little town called Oark, AR. In that town was, well, not much except the Oark Café and Gas Station. As we pulled in the parking area, we noticed the three motorcyclists that had so nicely swerved around Brian’s swimming trunks, were parking their bikes in the same lot. We were sure they were on the Trans America Trail as well, so Brian struck up a conversation with one of the riders. We found out that, although they weren’t currently doing the TAT, one of them had done it end to end just a few years ago. We sat and chatted with them a bit about the route while sipping root beer, then it was back to the trail.

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We decided to make camp south of the TAT at yet another lake, in Russelville AR. Lake Dardanelle. A quiet evening, and a quiet campground, we took a stroll on the lakeshore watching the wild mink scurry around in the moonlight.

The next morning we continued south, leaving the trail even further behind. We had decided last minute to take a side trip to Hot Springs AR. Neither of us knew much about the town, only that there were some historic bathhouses.

This place is amazing, and should be visited if you ever get the chance. It’s difficult to predict the size of the town you’re approaching when it’s merely a name on a map. So many of the towns we’ve passed on this route are rarely more than a sign on the roadside that let you know you’ve been there. Sometimes the “town” is one closed down store, or just a house or two. We couldn’t believe the size or splendor of Hot Springs when we pulled in. While it’s clear that that this city’s heyday is long past, there is still plenty of life in this town, and it seems that maybe it’s bouncing back. Hot Springs is full of once majestic bathhouses, and hotels, with magnolia lined streets. It has all of the grandeur of Old Las Vegas but with way more class and history.

We decided to take a break from sleeping in the Jeep and stay for a night at the Arlington Motel. Built, as much of the town, in the 20’s it was once the most regal of all lodgings in AR, and is still the largest in all of the state. We had planned to do a night on the town, drinking and watching live music at Maxine’s, but after dinner (and some drinks of course) we were too tired to do much else, and called it another early night.

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The next morning was spent sightseeing, then a thermal mineral soak at the Quapaw Bathhouse. The Quapaw is one of the only two remaining original bathhouses still in operation on Bathhouse Row and shouldn’t be missed. Afterwards it was back to the patio of the Arlington for drinks and trip reports.

That evening, opting for the $10 campground just outside of Hot Springs, we met a couple from Maine named Kiley and Mike who are on a cross-country trip to the West Coast. The four of us sat around our camp table, drank a few beers and talked about a little bit of everything. It was nice to have a real conversation with someone and not just the usual rundown of the Jeep and our travels.

This morning it’s back north to find the trail, we’ll report back the next time we have WiFi.

Turtles helped across the road: 19 and counting
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Grabow

Adventurer
Wow! Two people, two dogs, and all your gear in a Samurai, and here I thought we were cramped. Best of luck, you guys will have a blast. We'll make sure to follow on your blog. We plan to be heading into Canada at Thunder Bay in July to do the TCAT, so we might end up near the Oregon coast around the same time, if so we should meet up. Safe travels,
-Brian
 

Singlespeed92

Observer
I'm enjoying reading of your trip,my friend (and you know it's true,LOL,I'm using my one and only "1st Post" to say so :p),looking forward to reading more :) Have fun!
 

m(a)ce

Adventurer
sweeeeet!!! I remember first hearing about the TAT on ADVRider. have fun!


delivered by winged monkeys
 

NewRider

New member
great report so far, keep it comin!! I'm plannin on doin basically this same trip next summer starting in CO and ending at the "end" in TN before returning home, nice insights, it's definitely helpful for plannin my journey
 

dra2120

Active member
what are you guys using for GPS? Did you find a pre-mapped TAT route or did you enter all way-points yourself from info you've found?
 

Grabow

Adventurer
Floods, Transmission Failure, Lyme Disease and Blood Poisoning, Oh my!

After leaving Hot Springs, AR, we headed north on the scenic State Route 7 to Russellville, AR and set up camp at Illinois Bayou Park. It had been raining all day, which we didn’t mind except that building a fire was kind of a pain. That night, we drank wine by the fire and spooked ourselves into thinking a bear was nearby. It went a little something like this http://youtu.be/pDpnE395Ek4?t=3m4s

Luckily, we weren’t eaten alive and made it safely through the night.

Waking up to rain again at an Illinois Bayou campground, water was seeping through all of the tent walls, especially at the zippers. In an effort to stay somewhat dry, we packed up camp and were on the road by 6am. Getting a head start on this day allowed us to cover a LOT of ground. Nothing too remarkable on the trail, mostly country roads through rural communities. Miles of wheat and grain fields.

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For the first half of the day, most of the route was paved and we were a bit let down. Still, it’s nice to not be on a highway. About half way through the day, the road turned to dirt and the rain gave the trail that bright red and the trees a deep green we have been falling in love with since entering Arkansas. Getting closer to the Arkansas / Mississippi border, the trail took us along the top of a floodwall and then down into corn, rice and soybean fields. This low-lying land had been pounded with rain over the last few days and was sopping wet. We proceeded with caution.

Parts of the road were fairly muddy and many shallow water crossings were necessary. We were having a great time. Slowly, what began as a trail with water crossings turned into a waterway with islands of dry soil here and there. http://youtu.be/yorbOClvbOI

Each time we came to dry land, we would get out and walk the full length of the next flooded portion before driving the jeep in. It was pretty slow going, it was getting late, and dark clouds were starting to form overhead. We were miles deep into already flooded lowlands; who knew what more rain might generate. As we rounded the next bend we came to the longest deepest flood yet. The flooded stretch was about 100 yards long and probably around 2 and a half feet deep at it’s deepest. There was water rushing in from both sides and was bringing in topsoil from the surrounding fields. Brian walked into the thigh-deep water and, after concluding that it was safe enough to drive through, signaled to Carley that it was time to capture some footage.

Carley wasn’t exactly excited about walking 50 yards in her Teva’s into murky water filled with who-knows what kind of miscellaneous amphibians, (earlier in the day we had passed a dead alligator snapper the size of a trash can lid) but she did it anyway. Turns out, she had nothing to be afraid of and the resulting video is pretty cool. Check it: http://youtu.be/n9ZtH_HECo4

We made it through, but what was next? The trail was muddy, flooded for miles and ultimately impassable. Instead of backtracking for miles, we found a few county roads heading north, toward the highway. With more rain in the forecast, we opted for a KOA in West Memphis, AR to hunker down for the night.
As soon as we pulled into our campsite, we immediately attempted to waterproof the rooftop tent. Brian spraying a waterproofing agent to the outside and Carley coating the seams with sealer from the inside. Dark clouds were moving in and the wind was starting to pick up, so Brian relocated the Jeep to a safer spot away from the tall old trees that lined the campground. We rolled out the side awning and quickly started dinner. Moments later, it began to rain again. We scrapped any side dish ideas and stood under our awning and laughed while we ate our chilidogs. The waterproofing didn’t have any effect, and rain seeped in through the entire tent and trickled in at the zippers and seams all through the night. Not exactly encouraging to us, considering we plan to be in MUCH more tropical climates where rain occurs daily. Our tent leaks. That’s a problem.

The next morning was fairly clear so we left the tent open to try to dry out while we did laundry and took advantage of some free wifi. This lasted only an hour or so before it began to drizzle. So we closed up the tent, broke down camp and headed to Memphis, TN to find breakfast. Great coffee and a delicious breakfast sandwich can be found at Republic Coffee Roasters just east of downtown. With our bellies full and coffee cups empty, we headed back out on the road!

After being forced off the TransAm Trail by flooded roads a day prior and sleeping through rain all night, we debated getting back on the trail or staying on the highway. “We can always turn around”, Brian assured. So we took a few back roads until we met up with the trail and got back on a few miles west of the Tennessee River.

Just as we’d heard, most (99%) of the trail throughout Tennessee is paved and, although we don’t prefer it, it’s better than the highway. Even though it was a gloomy day, our spirits were lifted and we were happy to be on the road again. Unfortunately, the rain had been quite a bit heavier in the areas east of Memphis. Roughly 10 miles in, where the trail used to be, there was now a lake. Defeated, we turned around and hit the highway.

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Carley checked the weather report for the general area and saw that there was a tornado warning, a flash flood warning and a sever weather warning for every town within 50-60 miles. Since it was nearly 5pm, we pulled into Savannah, TN, grabbed a bottle of wine and booked a room at a very cheap hotel. That night the wind howled and the rain poured down in sheets and we were thankful to have walls and a roof.

In the morning, we grabbed a quick coffee and again headed away from the trail, north to Nashville!
We opted to stay in a small cabin at the Nashville KOA due to the fact that our tent and mattress were still soaked. It had been a few years since either of us had been to Nashville and we were kind of excited for a night out on the town known for live music. We were hoping to catch something good at the legendary “Station Inn” and we weren’t let down. Knowing that The Station Inn doesn’t do presale tickets, we arrived early to ensure a good seat. In line we met a great couple named Pat and Brian. Pat and Brian were unlikely country music fans from the UK who were in town for the CMA’s. The four of us grabbed some drinks and took spaces together at a table. Pat and Brian were so excited to experience a bona fide country music show and we were thrilled just to be there.

Having no idea what to expect, we patiently waited for the show to start. After a few minutes, the lights dimmed and an aging country showboat with a silvery-white pompadour sauntered onto the stage. They wasted no time. After a quick introduction, “I’m Dale Watson and these are the Loan Stars”, the band launched into the first song. Dale Watson, a true entertainer, had the whole crowd dancing in their seats and laughing hysterically. Hands down the best live show we’ve seen in well over a year.

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After the show, we said goodbye to our new friends and headed back to the KOA. In the morning, we made the obligatory trip to the Loveless Café for some of their legendary biscuits and jelly. As usual, they did not disappoint.

The next morning, we headed south to pick up the trail once more. We had driven about 15 miles when we ran into the only other people we’ve seen that were also doing the TransAm Trail. Brian and Kevin were on adventure bikes (the proper way to take the trail, I suppose) and were walking said bikes across a shallow, but slippery, water crossing. We pulled off and chatted them up a bit, informing them of the areas where the trail was flooded and asking them about their trip thus far. We all grumbled about the abundance of pavement throughout the Tennessee portions of the trail and we assured them that it would get better once they entered into Arkansas. It was starting to rain, so we wished each other good luck and went our separate ways.

A few miles down the road, disaster struck. We missed a turn. No big deal, we miss turns all day long! But this time, it was different. Brian stopped and put the jeep in reverse to turn around, and nothing, no rearward movement. Shift to drive, same as reverse, nothing but higher RPMs. This isn’t looking good. Shift to park, park engages, reverse and drive then decide to work. Forward momentum resumes and we’re both relieved, although the alleviation would prove short lived. The Jeep is now refusing to shift from second gear - this is a problem.

Did a previous water crossing cause some internal damage? No, surely that can’t be it. We’re in a JEEP! These things are built to go through water, up to 30” of it according to official Jeep literature. Did we maybe slam it into Park before the Jeep was at a complete stop? Okay, that did happen, but just once, and there’s no way that a brand new transmission would falter after just one little hiccup. Still under warranty, we would have to take it to a Jeep dealership to have them figure it out. The closest dealership was more than 40 miles away. So we drove the 40 miles, in second gear, to Murfreesboro, TN.

Carley called to schedule an appointment with the service department and informed Kay, the incredibly nice service manager, that we were on a cross-country trip and begged her to try and work something out. They were booked for days, but Kay agreed to let us drop of the jeep that evening and they would look at it first thing in the morning. No guarantees, but it was something!

Fearing that we might void our warranty by exceeding the GVW (Gross Vehicle Weight rating), we went to a truck stop to use their giant scale so we could know exactly how heavy the Jeep is. We were nearly 600lbs over the recommended weight (we have since lightened the load). It was clear that we needed to unload a few things before heading to the dealership so we booked a room at the cheapest hotel we could find. Unfortunately, the only room they had left was a King Jacuzzi Suite! Not exactly in our budget, but it was on the ground floor and we didn’t have many options or much time.

Once parked in the hotel lot, directly across from our room, we unbolted and unpacked everything that would come loose. The king sized suite (smaller than you would think) quickly filled up with all of our gear. There’s no doubt that we looked absolutely bizarre to anyone who might have been watching.
As soon as we were finished moving everything into the room, Brian drove the jeep up the road to the dealership. Before Carley even had time to flip through the cable channels, he was back. Mysteriously, the jeep was driving fine again. No issues at all. So we called Kay at the service dept. and asked her what she thought we should do. Since there were no codes or lights coming up in the dash and it seemed to be driving normally, Kay said that there wasn’t much they would be able to do. Completely baffled, we chalked it up to a computer glitch that righted itself when we turned the Jeep off and then back on again. Ugh, computers!

That evening we drove around Murfreesboro for a couple of hours to make sure that the Jeep was, in fact, okay. Once we were both satisfied with it’s performance, we stopped in a bar, had a few beers and talked about our plan for the next day. We decided to abandon the trail and take the highway to Asheville, NC. A pretty nice end to an awful day.

In the morning, we put all of our gear back in/on the jeep and hit the road. Eastern Tennessee is unbelievable and the Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina is just as scenic as any of the back roads we had been on over the past couple weeks.

We booked a campsite at the local KOA and headed into the city for some dinner and, of course, drinks! Asheville is littered with breweries and we were pretty excited to kick back and enjoy a stress free day. We had dinner at Mellow Mushroom and then a few post-dinner drinks at Jack of the Wood. In a small park at the center of town, there was a drum circle forming and it wasn’t long before everyone within earshot began to wander over to dance, bang a drum or just watch. It seemed like the happiest place on earth.

We strolled around town for a while and stopped every couple of blocks to check out the street performers. There was such a great vibe in that town that we momentarily thought about staying put…for good. But the road was still calling, so we grabbed a bottle of wine and headed back to the campground to for some much needed relaxation.

We woke up early the next day (in our still wet tent) and hit the road. The soundtrack for the day - Jeremy Pinnell’s “OH/KY”; perfectly suited for the beautiful drive back to our homeland: Kentucky. The first place we ever camped together was at the Red River Gorge, at the top of Indian Staircase. Well, it’s not possible to drive the jeep up to the staircase, but we stopped at the gorge to camp and spend our last night on the road near a place that was special to us.

In the morning, we hiked up to the top of the Natural Bridge. It is absolutely breathtaking. There is something about the landscape in southeastern Kentucky that is enchanting and mysterious. The dense green forest, moss growing on the walls of rock and the narrow creeks that cut through the sandstone all work together to form one of the most beautiful places on earth. The Red River Gorge is one of those places that you must visit if you're in the area.

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We stood in silence for a few moments, taking it in. Once we climbed back down the mountain, we both sighed as the first leg of our trip, the "shake down", was over. This would be our last stop before heading to our hometown of Covington KY, just a few hours up the road. Although apprehensive to leave our newfound 'home on the road', we were excited to spend time with friends and family. So we hopped in the Jeep and headed home.

It has been 3 weeks since we returned to Kentucky. The plan was to stick around for a few weeks, take care of a few Jeep issues and visit with friends and family. Things haven't exactly gone according to plan.
Here's a quick rundown of events:
- Transmission control module officially pooped out - Jeep in the shop for 10 days to get it replaced
- Brian got Lyme Disease from a tick bite he sustained in Arkansas
- Carley wrecked her motorcycle and got blood poisoning as a result (She’s totally fine, by the way. As is the bike)

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- Had to purchase a whole new tent (a James Baroud) since our last one wasn't holding up to the elements. Special shout out to Jason at Performance Rovers in North Carolina, thank you very much!

One more week and we're back on the road for the second leg of the trip. First, the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and then...Canada for the TCAT!! Check back in a couple weeks for updates. Until then,

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Turtles helped across the road: 29 and counting
 

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