My Introduction

Mr Bojangles · Feb 27, 2011

Hello All:<div>Young 72 yr old man who enjoys "The Road". Presently travels monthly trips around the country, twice a year, and found this site. Hoping to share story's and knowledge with others on this forum....... </div><div>My base is in Eastern Pa. and have completed 17 trips (61K miles). I will be leaving for another trip within the month.</div><div>See ya all down the road.....</div><div> </div>

rvwandering · Feb 27, 2011

Welcome from two fellow Pennsylvanians!  There are quite a few of us on here - Pennsylvanians sure do love to travel!

twokniveskatie · Feb 27, 2011

we are so gonna have to have a meet-up here sometime, maybe when the snow melts and i come out of hibernation <img border="0" align="absmiddle" src="https://vanlivingforum.com/images/boards/smilies/sleep.gif"><div> </div><div>welcome!</div>

KatieinKansas · Feb 27, 2011

Hi, and welcome, Mr. Bojangles,<div> </div><div>I want to hear some of those road stories, too. .. With 17 long trips under your belt, I'm sure there's a lot that we'd like to hear.</div><div>Katie</div>

High Plains Drifter · Feb 27, 2011

Welcome Mr. Bojangles

cyndi · Feb 27, 2011

Hi Mr. B!  Looking forward to hearing more about your travels!   Cyndi

Mr Bojangles · Feb 28, 2011

<div>For those asking for a story...... here is one I posted in another forum more than a year ago.....</div>Let me know if it was readable and/or entertaining.                                                                                   "The Story" I had spent an hour in Cloverdale, CA., filling up fuel, talking to people in and out of gas stationÃ¢Â€Â™s store front, just relaxing after hours of driving north on Rt. 101 from San Francisco. Now all this time my TVÃ¢Â€Â™s tail gate is down, exposing tools and an expensive generator. Additionally, I had climbed up into truck to fill generator with gas, and this activity brought more Ã¢Â€ÂœeyesÃ¢Â€Â on equipment. It was early evening and community was alive with farmers and Ã¢Â€Âœfarm help peopleÃ¢Â€Â coming in and out of the gas station.  In the course of my conversations I had given my plans of travel up to, and along coast to a few people. Most of course were envious, expressing the desire to be able to travel this way; just stopping where convenient to observe the beauty of CaliforniaÃ¢Â€Â™s coast. And I must admit that my Ã¢Â€ÂœpersonalityÃ¢Â€Â needs to tell others of my good fortunes. I tend to brag. This road, SR128, is a twisting and narrow road, with young trees overhanging the road providing a canopy which blocked direct sunlight. It is a lonely road, and even more lonely and ominous during the closing hours of the day. Occasionally, driveways leading to farms and sparsely placed homes would allow glimpses of grape vine fields and rolling hills as I moved northwest towards Ft. Bragg. I would never reach the coast this evening, turning back in fear, seeking the familiar, a community where people existed, something other than the unknown of this road. I left Cloverdale, beginning the climb into the hills allowing cars to pass me whenever I could by pulling to right, at spots designed for that purpose. Traffic became infrequent, and maybe a half hour into climb, I noticed a car following, but not interested in passing. After providing this vehicle enough chances to pass, I pulled over and stopped, making them pass my Ã¢Â€ÂœRigÃ¢Â€Â. As the car passed in a normal manner, I saw a low Ã¢Â€ÂœbangerÃ¢Â€Â™sÃ¢Â€Â type vehicle, and in it were four young males. I then reentered the road, traveling a few more turns, maybe a mile more, and there was the same car, pulled over in an area to the side, making me pass them. Now at this point my instincts (and fearful personality) started the wheels turning. I recalled my activities at the gas station and it entered my mind that I may have been identified as a target, someone traveling alone, with an RV that might be attractive & exciting to young men on the prowl and up to no good.   In front again, and not liking it, I traveled a few miles then I pulled over and stopped for a second time in a driveway. Looking in the driverÃ¢Â€Â™s mirror, a few moments passed before their car rounded a curve and slowly approached.  Now in my mind my worse fears were confirmed. I positioned my cell phone to my ear, removing it in a manner that would have allowed them to see I had this phone, but removing it just as they rolled along side my driverÃ¢Â€Â™s window. My intent was to pretend I did not want them to know I was on the cell phone, thus creating a sense that I was talking to someone about the situation. The car pulled along side me slowly and I watched the passenger roll his window down in preparation to talk, and it entered my mind that they would block my path back to the highway. At this moment I made up my mind to just ram and push them away if the driver angled his vehicle anywhere near my front path. I was confident this powerful truck I was driving was up to task. Now you must understand IÃ¢Â€Â™m a bluffer, IÃ¢Â€Â™m good at it, all my life I have been proud of my ability to get quiet and look unafraid at moments like this, moments of real or imagined danger.  I reluctantly gave the passenger my attention as he said most respectfully: Ã¢Â€ÂœExcuse me sir, do you know if this road goes to Mandocino?Ã¢Â€Â I did not vocalize my response, but rather shrugged my shoulders and slowly shook my head. There was a moment of silence and slowly the passenger realized that this was the extent of my willingness to exchange information. His body returned forward and the vehicle moved off slowly to the north. I brought the cell phone to my ear and leaned my head out in an exaggerated effort to read the license plate, as I mouthed an imaginary number to an imaginary person. I did not see if I was observed, but that was my intent.  Was the car and itÃ¢Â€Â™s passengers following me? I do not know. It was at this moment that I decided to turn back. Slowly I proceeded to a point where the road provided a turn around. I never seen that vehicle again, and driving south, back the ten miles I had traveled, parking in the lot of ClovervilleÃ¢Â€Â™s police department; was what was necessary to give me peace of mind.  Was I correct in my conclusions regarding those young men? IÃ¢Â€Â™ll never know. But that night as I went to sleep, I was glad my rifle was in trailer. Mr. Bojangles

Mouldy · Feb 28, 2011

This is why I carry a .44 mag.

Guest · Feb 28, 2011

And how that would have helped?  As it was there was no trouble. What would you have done differently knowing you had a .44 mag? Bri

Mouldy · Feb 28, 2011

Nope, only if they would have came up and confronted me, I don't WANT to shoot one by any means. But there are a lot of crazies out there too. I have a pepper spray too that I would rather use first. Worst comes to worse though, I'm not gonna get rolled by a bunch of thugs. I don't want to resort to that action, I believe in people's goodness until i'm shown otherwise. Didn't want to come off as a 6 shooting cowboy there, sorry.

Guest · Feb 28, 2011

Oh no reason to be sorry Mouldy. I don't think you came off that way and I'm not challenging you....lots of folks feel better with a firearm in the rig. I just don't see any way it would have helped. Bri

Mr Bojangles · Mar 1, 2011

My only reason for posting that story was it was "my only" story at hand. <div>It was a response to "Weapon on Board" posting.</div><div>Travel stories.... I have many, as anyone who "gets on the road" will have.</div><div>For me... traveling the way I do is always an adventure and "The Story"  is being written every day.  </div><div>I talk to everyone I see (almost) when I stop.... most will talk to you, but all do not.....</div><div>just the excitement in knowing I can go anywhere I want, stop or continue.... down this road or that'in. Wow.... getting excited about my next trip with in next month.... direction towards Key West, but who knows. </div>