After spending the morning working in Stoughton’s pleasant little public library, I was free to head out for the day with Eleanor, Emma, and Brett.   The humidity has dropped in Madison lately, still very summer-like but considerably more tolerable to be outside.   This led us to the conclusion that we should go explore Madison, and that in turn led to a day of unplanned random happenings, which is often the most fun kind of day we can have on the road.

Our first stop was the Geology Museum in the university campus area, on Dayton Street.   University museums are often free and fascinating, and this one met expectations on both counts.   Emma loves rocks and fossils, and at this age she has outgrown most of the Children’s Museums that we used to frequent.   Science, natural history, and geology museums seem to be more popular now, which pleases us as parents.   After the museum, we found a bit of shaded lawn in front of one of the campus buildings and had a picnic lunch.   (Cheese curds were of course on the menu. They squeak a little less on the second day.)

The WBCCI International Rally is being held at the Alliant Energy Center not far from the university area.   We drove around the site a little to check it out.   There are already several hundred Airstreams on site, but the vintage contingent hadn’t yet arrived. They will be parading in as a group this morning.

The centerpiece of downtown Madison is the state capitol, a classic domed state building with a gold statue at the top.   As we headed toward it, we passed Peppino’s, which blog readers told us to check out.   Since we’d had lunch, our visit was limited to being reflections in the glass.   A few steps later, Eleanor was collared by a random guy walking by, who told her: “Barbra Streisand died!”   It was apparently a big shock for him, and they spent a moment commiserating.   Of course he was wrong.   She’s still alive.   But Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson, Ed McMahon … the past few days have seen a   lot of famous personalities shuffle off.

It was refreshing to find that the capitol building is still very open to the public.   Nowhere did I see a metal detector, or signs prohibiting photography.   It was like the pre-9/11 days, and I appreciate that.   (I don’t like the creeping erosion of simple liberties in the name of paranoia.   I was once nearly arrested for taking a picture of an American flag inside the Trenton NJ train station, a few months after 9/11.)   The doors were open and dozens of people were milling around, enjoying the elaborate architectural interior of their capitol.   Outside, a marching band augmented with what appeared to be Power Rangers was being photographed on the steps.

While browsing around inside, a very tall man in a black suit asked Emma if she was “Too cool for coloring books.”   Emma of course said she wasn’t, and he immediately led her and Eleanor to his office on the 1st floor.   The tall man turned out to be Wisconsin State Representative Phil Montgomery. When I caught up with them, he was telling funny stories about traveling with his son, and Emma was advising him on budget issues (they were passing a budget on the day we arrived, and Rep. Montgomery expected to be there until late at night.)

The kind Representative advised of his favorite place to play mini-golf, a few miles away, and that became our next stop.   We knocked out 18 holes in some fairly intense sunshine, and decided that the cure for too much sun was a stop at Culver’s.   Culvers is a Wisconsin (or perhaps mid-west) institution for custard.   Custard is basically “ice cream+”, and it’s one of those treats we simply can’t resist.

Looking back on the day, we had a great time and yet none of it was planned.   We simply had a list of ideas in hand, and then just followed the cracker crumbs that appeared before us.   That’s a great alternative to some of the days ahead, which will be rigidly structured as a result of meetings and deadlines.

Photo note:   I’ve now begun carrying two cameras occasionally.   The D70 is wearing the Tamron 10-24mm lens, and the D90 has the Nikkor 18-200mm lens.   This gives me huge flexibility but of course it’s not very comfortable.   I’ll only take both cameras when I have plans to do some intense photogaphy, like during major rallies.   During the time we spent at the state capitol, the Tamron was extremely helpful since a super-wide-angle is the only lens that can really capture the rotunda.

Our explorations have not led us far, yet.   The first order of business was to get things cleaned up so we’d be ready for the next few days, which will likely be hectic.   The best way to do that is to check the nearest town and start looking around.   We drove five miles to downtown Stoughton, which turned out to be a small but vibrant old fashioned city center, replete with interesting shops and everything we needed: car wash, laundry, post office, public library with free wifi, bakery with kringle, and of course cheese.

Of course, cheese is not the only attraction to Wisconsin, but it is a running joke for tourists to mention it frequently. We’re doing our best to be temporary cheese-heads while we are here, and that led us to Cheesers on Main Street in Stoughton.   Fresh cheese curds were piled high on the counter when we arrived, and we were told that when they are really fresh, they squeak on your teeth.   Well, there’s a culinary experience for you — so of course we bought a package.

It’s true, they do squeak on your teeth.     Listening to the sound in my head, I had the strangest sensation of eating a live mouse.   Texturally (and I’ll probably be hung in effigy for saying this) it’s a bit like eating a piece of rubber tire, but of course better flavored.   I think cheese curds are an acquired taste.   After half a bag, I haven’t acquired that taste, but I’m sure it is coming.

Culinary stuff is a major theme of the tourist areas in Wisconsin. Along Rt 20 on Wednesday we noted a Mustard Museum.   I’m sketchy on the details of what it contains (besides, obviously, lots of mustard), but the billboard gave us a hint:   “Home of Poupon U”.   Apparently it is also a center of higher learning.

With work and errands, the day sort of disappeared, which happens to us a lot.   Uneventful can be better than the alternative, as I was reminded later in the day.   This time year thunderstorms are a constant threat, and yet knowing that I made a complete newbie mistake in the afternoon.   I set up the trailer awning under a clear blue sky, and then went away for an hour to the grocery store.   In this part of the country, thunderstorms pop up quickly, and they can sense deployed trailer awnings.   We came back to the Airstream to find one awning arm completely pretzeled, literally U-shaped.   Fortunately the rest of the awning was undamaged.

The awning arm has since been removed and the awning is safely stowed for now.   I am lucky to be right next to the International Airstream rally, since Zip-Dee (maker of the awning) will be there and can get me the replacement parts on site.   Their headquarters are in the Chicago area and they’ll be making at least a couple of parts runs for boobs like me who leave their awnings up unattended.   I suspect Zip-Dee will do quite well selling replacement parts this week.   More thunderstorms are expected.

Trivia:   How did Zip-Dee get its name?   The founder of the company had the last name of “Dudah.”   True story.

The final 159 miles of our 2,100 miles trek from Tucson were the way you’d want them to be: smooth, scenic, and uneventful.   We spent the morning touring a Frank Lloyd Wright home in Quasqueton IA (a name so difficult to pronounce that the locals simply call it “QWAH-key”).   The Usonian design of “Cedar Rock” was as interesting as all other FLW houses we’ve seen, and this example was particularly interesting because it was furnished almost exactly as Wright intended when it was built in the late 1940s.

Not many people know that Wright not only designed the houses, but the furniture as well.   He even chose the items on the shelves.   Owners were expected to bring in their clothes and food, and not much else.   Few could resist the urge to customize their own houses eventually, which is why this particular example is so interesting to see.   The tour, by the way, is free with only a $3 donation requested.

From Independence to Dubuque on Rt 20, and then through Wisconsin on Rt 151, it was bucolic and green all the way.   The scenery is settling to the nerves, while the concrete roadway undulates gently and makes a quiet “thump-thump” that can put you to sleep if you’re not careful.   I listened for the engine and the hitch, but both were nearly silent.   So our major activity was watching for cheese-related billboards, of which there were many.

We have rendezvoused with Brett in Lake Kegonsha State Park, about 15 miles south of Madison WI.   We’ll be staying here for several days, commuting as needed up to the WBCCI International Rally in Madison.   While I like staying on site at Internationals, this time we are only going to be visiting for a couple of days, and the cost of the International with 30-amp electricity is far too high for two days (over $400 for a family of three).   Lake Kegonsha is $19 per night, plus either day-use passes of $10, or $35 for the year.

The 3,000 acre lake features a boat ramp and a swimming area, but it’s pretty mucky with algae and seaweed in the shallows, so I doubt we’ll be doing much any swimming.   There are quiet roads for cycling and walking paths everywhere.   We’ll explore more of the paths later, despite the annoying flies that dive-bomb our heads the moment we step out of the Airstream.   Down the campground loop, some neighbors in a tent have hung a sign that says, “BUGFEST”.   Fortunately, the bugs are more annoying than biting.   A hat is helpful for keeping them away.   This is part of the northern state park experience, and I expected it.

Most of our time will be spent elsewhere, anyway.   The campground is   mostly a place to sleep.   Since I’m finalizing articles and layouts for the Fall 2009 issue of Airstream Life magazine, I need to make regular trips to wifi hotspots to upload large files.   The five Panera Bread locations in Madison with free wifi will be my haunts.   It’s also time to catch up on housekeeping: post office, laundry, fuel, etc.   And I’ve got scheduled meetings at the International rally site.   So we’ll do some sightseeing in the next few days but mostly we’re here to handle business, and that will keep us well away from the buggy campground.

We do make strange choices.   Somewhere along the way yesterday we decided that our primary goal was to get a few hundred miles behind us, and so we launched from Hot Springs through the winding roads of the Ozarks, up to Missouri and northward to settle in Columbia, at the intersection of I-70 and Route 63.

We neglected to put much thought to where we would stay. By design, our trip “plan” was simply to drive until I waved a white flag of surrender, and then park the Airstream in some convenient spot until the next day.   This fits our “no reservations” style, and we have enough experience on the road to have no fear of winging it.

Often in these situations we’ll subconsciously trade off one expense for another, being notorious cheapskates.   In this situation we’ll occasionally decide to drive later than usual, and reward everyone in the car with dinner at a restaurant so that we can get a change of scene after the long day.   Our cheapskate budget for dinner for three is about $30, which comes to the average price of a commercial campground, so if we skip the campground and just park somewhere, dinner is easily justified.

But we didn’t consider one factor yesterday: what the weathermen call “oppressive” humidity.   As I write this, at 3 a.m., it is still 82 degrees and the relative humidity is 84%.   Or to put it another way, it’s disgustingly sticky.   I’m wide awake at 3 a.m. because it’s impossible to sleep.   The air is so thick that I am aware of every heavy breath.   The air drapes around me like a steam blanket that I can’t remove, and there is no possible escape without a 30-amp plug to power our air conditioner.

Now, we’ve camped in some pretty awful conditions before.   A pair of nights in Death Valley in June come to mind right away.   We camped in a powerless campground, and at night it didn’t drop below 100 degrees until well after midnight.   Camping in Death Valley in summer naturally yields some bragging rights — “Yeah, it was hot, but nothing we couldn’t handle.”   But Death Valley in June can’t hold a candle to   Missouri in June.   This is much worse.   It’s just that bragging about spending a night in Missouri doesn’t really impress anyone.

Now you know a secret to travel writing:   It’s not that the experiences are always that exotic; it’s simply a matter of being located somewhere different.   Death Valley heat is not particularly special, it’s just interesting because it’s Death Valley.   If you are living in Arkansas or Missouri this particular week in June, just turn off your air conditioner for a day and a night, and you too can experience the joy of the professional travel writer.   As an exercise, try writing an 800-word essay about your adventure that makes it sound much more interesting than it is.

Eleanor’s concern, when she wakes up from her sticky and disturbed rest, will be that I didn’t get enough sleep to safely tow us up to Iowa.   Well, you’ve got to take what life hands you.   I’ll be fine for a half-day drive.   My plan is to leave very early, perhaps before dawn, and drive until midday, then settle into a campground with the one convenience that we care about (power), and nap the afternoon away in dry air conditioned comfort.   Emma won’t be fond of this plan, but she can sleep in the car.   Once we reach Iowa, we will be within a short drive of our goal in Wisconsin, and we can slow down enough to start smelling the roses along the roadway.