MotorCoach Blog 3

I am a motorcoach:

I am Two Four Three (yes, again). Here’s my New-Year’s blog, a week early.

Does it feel to you that the world is racing into 2016? Well, working in a fast-paced environment, part of my job is to slo-o-o-o-w the world down (without backing up traffic or being late). Fast is often crowded and complex. How do I and other MotorCoaches in this noble public service slow the world down? One way is what we call “living early”—that is, being ahead of schedule as a rule. Being ahead of schedule means: no need for pressing to gain back time lost in flawed planning. Being ahead of schedule affords backing off whenever necessary—making room for seeing well, as if in slow-motion. Early initiates and serves dignified measures free of agitation. It is the difference between anxious reacting and calm decisiveness.

The New Year is upon us; and like 2015, it’ll pass soon enough. In the mean time, happy travels!

Here Is The News!

MEETING THE NEWS on the roadways of America, first-hand, real time, real world news—going out and discovering the news . . .

Route 3, Illinois, traveling from Grand Tower to Cairo.

News of history: This was once Shawnee territory, a fact held in memorial by the Shawnee National Forest (the Trail of Tears State Park is also along this route). Louis Joliet and Father Jacques Marquette explored this “New France” for France in the late 1600s. In 1763, following the treaty ending the French and Indian War, possession passed to England at Forte DeChantes. During the American Revolution the region was captured for the Commonwealth of Virginia, and subsequently was governed under the Northwest Territory, the Indiana Territory, and the Illinois Territory. In 1803 Lewis and Clark set out from this area on their way west with the Corps of discovery. The New Madrid earthquakes of 1811 and 1812 created more than 300,000 acres of wetlands along this route, of which a 6,000 acre remnant continues to welcome migratory fowl. And in 1818 Illinois became the twenty-first state of the Union. All of this and much more can be learned along historic Route 3.

News of Industry: Corn, soybeans, and rice are not the only farm-grown products in southwestern Illinois. The pond fish industry is alive and well in Murphysboro, at Logan Hollow Fish Farm (located along Rt. 3 between Chester and grand Tower). High quality ground water and fertile soil are plentiful in this rich bottomland of the Mississippi River—and ideally suited for raising fingerling pond fish, like Crappie, Bass, Sunfish, Catfish, and Grass Carp. With 60 ponds and over 170 acres of pond, Logan Hollow Fish Farm is the pond stocking resource for many pond owners throughout the region.

News of geography: Route 3 ends at Cairo at the southernmost tip of Illinois—the confluence of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers.

News of local evolution: The streets of Cairo, Illinois report “Once was thriving.” Changing tides of industry had much to do with it. Steamboats and river commerce created shoreline boomtowns like this. Great rivers, like the Ohio and the Mississippi, were the original interstate highways, transporters of goods, people, nations, historic movements. In the mid 19th century inland rail systems proved faster than rivers and locomotives replaced steamboats. Then truck transport upon paved highways rendered this location a detour. Racial tensions of historic proportions also played a part. It’s a story told in concrete, cobblestone, bricks and mortar.

Selfies

Pic-5 Rice Farm
That’s me hangin’ out with some of the farm help at River Bend Seed Company, Gerard and Crain Farms, McClure, Illinois. (Six pics and I could not prompt a smile from this guy. Hey, farming is tough work; I get it.)
The prominent crops produced in this area are soybeans and corn I learned.
“No wheat?” I asked, like the naïve, shiny red motorcoach I am.
“Wheat! No one’s doing wheat around here,” he answered.
“What’s wrong with wheat?” I returned.
“First off, no one wants to haul that messy stuff. Any wheat farmer will tell you . . . ‘If you’ve got a crack it’ll find it.’ Second, the market’s saturated—too much competition, which equates to $7 a bushel . . . not worth it for a crop that requires the land all year, leaving no opportunity for rotating in something else.”
“OK, so how are you doing with corn and soybeans?” I asked.
“We don’t do either.”
“I thought you said . . .”
“We’re a rice farming operation, about three thousand acres worth. We leave the corn and beans to everyone else around us.”
“So why rice? I’ll assume, for starters, it’s easier to deal with than wheat, and less messy.”
“Nope. Nothing easy about it. We run about thirty varieties for human consumption, seed products, and dog food; and we must be cleaned of every single grain before changing from one variety to another. The fields must be flooded at least six inches deep for the roots to develop over winter months, and then drained in the spring. They must be flooded again in early summer and drained again later in the summer so the crops can be sun dried before harvesting. Very labor intensive.”
“So what’s the up-side?” I asked.
“Presently, a market price of $23 a bushel,” he said. “And that’ll go up during the winter months.”

Pic-4, Cairo Dock
This is the dock at Cairo. See that barge approaching the shore? It is battling the swift currents of the Ohio River to deliver my passengers, a delegation hosted by the Army Corps of Engineers (Fish and Wildlife, Department of Natural Resources, Politicians, even people from China with interests related to the Asian Carp dilemma). They’re concluding a two-day annual river-ways wellbeing checkup. I wait for them on the southernmost shores of Illinois. Across the way is Kentucky. See that bridge in the distance? Immediately beyond it is the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. And further on are the banks of Missouri. Like these two great rivers, momentous movements have met and flowed form here. I’ll share one example. It was here that in 1803 Lewis and Clark and the “Corps of Discovery” learned and practiced celestial navigation, successfully establishing the initial longitude and latitude data to be used on their westward expedition. The data begun at this southern tip of Illinois would later be used to create maps of the western and northern regions of the United States of America.

Quote Of The Day samples

“The Mississippi River carries the mud of thirty states and two provinces 2,000 miles south to the delta and deposits 500 million tons of it there every year. The business of the Mississippi, which it will accomplish in time, is to methodically transport all of Illinois to the Gulf of Mexico.” —Charles Kuralt

“May what I do flow from me like a river, no forcing and no holding back, the way it is with children.” —Rainer Maria Rilke

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MotorCoach Blog 2

I am a motorcoach:

For this edition of my blog I am Two Seven Zero (MCI) . . . and Two Seven Four (Setra). No, I don’t have an identity disorder. I know, I told you in my first blog I was Two Four Three (Prevost); and I was. That’s the way it is with motorcoaches and motorcoach assignments. Every motorcoach has its own number-name. They are every bit as individual and important as letter-names, like Ralph, Roger, Dennis, and so on. At the time of my previous blog I was Two Four Three. That was then. You get the idea . . .

Now, one way in which all motorcoaches are the same is this: we all love Christmas! When holiday lights are reflected in my glossy paint job, my mirrors, my windows, my sparkling chrome wheels . . . well, it feels like Christmas is in my soul . . . like I was made for Christmas. And when I get to transport Christmas-spirited travelers upon some yuletide pilgrimage, I know I was indeed made for this!

Here Is The News!

MEETING THE NEWS on the roadways of America, first-hand, real time, real world news—going out and discovering the news . . .

News of Christmas: White lights, colored lights, sparkling like thousands of tree-shaped candles, orchards of Christmas cheer, their glow spread across and rising from Opryland. Visible along Briley Parkway, and from hwy 24, hwy 65, and hwy 40, the glow announces: It’s that time of year!

News of Santa Clause: Indiana, east bound highway 64 at mile marker 26, a highway sign: Santa Clause 43.

News of Holiday Elegance: Billboards along hwy 40 between Knoxville, Tennessee and Asheville, North Carolina: Christmas at the Biltmore.

News of Goodwill: Even head-lights and tail-lights seem transformed—indicating more than density of traffic . . . yes, even merry . . . perhaps many journeys to find just the right gift.

News of “Exodus”: 150 motorcoaches along highway 44, young service men and women vacating Ft. Leonard Wood, heading to Lambert International Airport – and home for the holidays.

Selfies

Photo6-2
Here is my Christmas-red self, framed in seasonal garland at Deerpark on the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina, rays of sunlight showering like rain.

Photo7-2
My shiny red self and the lush green lawn supplied all the Christmas cheer in the morning rain and fog at the Biltmore mansion. But here are the trees in the center of the lawn at night

Photo #8
Here at the Gaylord Hotel in Opryland—Nashville, Tennessee—everything glows Christmas.

photo9
There it is: THE post office! Yes, this is the very place where letters sent to Santa Clause are received and answered—by the thousands! As I waited for the return of my passengers, “elves” from Alabama arrived—fresh volunteer help for the monumental task of answering all those letters. (Santa Clause, Indiana)

Quote Of The Day samples

“Christmas doesn’t come from a store, maybe Christmas means a little bit more.” —Dr. Seuss, How the Grinch Stole Christmas

“And remember, I am with you always, even to the end of time.” —the Christ of Christmas, Jesus of Nazareth

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MotorCoach Blog 1

I am a motorcoach:

I am Two Four Three (Yes, my first, middle, and last names). How do I know I’m a motorcoach? Well, first off, I am Prevost . . . not Peterbuilt, Kenworth, or Freightliner (those are trucks), and not Ford, Chevy, Toyota, or Volks Wagon (those are cars, pickups, SUVs, and vans). I am powered by Detroit Diesel, 8V71—that is: 8 cylinders, 71 cubic inches per cycle (plenty to move my 17+ tons and super-precious cargo throughout the country). And let me make this more specific distinction: I am not a bus. Buses are about basic here-to-there. A motorcoach is destination by comfort.

But above all, I know I’m a motorcoach because Henry told me so. Henry is my trainer and our company’s Safety Manager. Henry’s voice has permanent residence in the mind-center of this motorcoach:
“You’ve gotta know what it is to be this motorcoach! You’ve gotta feel every inch of this motorcoach from front to rear bumpers and from the roof to the tires meeting the pavement. You’ve gotta know how a thirty mile-per-hour gust of wind, acceleration from a stoplight, right and left turns, and lane changes on the highway feel to the person in row 22, or the passenger using the lavatory. You are this motorcoach!”

Here Is The News!

MEETING THE NEWS on the roadways of America, first-hand, real time, real world news—going out and discovering the news . . .

Hwy 55 between St. Louis and Hwy 80, south of Chicago, on the way to Michigan.

News of the Road: News every mile on the mile; crossing the river-carved border of Missouri and Illinois at St. Louis, mile markers 1 – 5 are lost in a maze of highway interchanges—55 north toward Chicago, 64 east to Louisville, 3 south to Memphis . . . at mile marker 19, news of Springfield, 77 miles ahead, and not yet a rumor of our destination: Silver Lake, Michigan.

News of Industry, Renewable Energy:
Wind farms—white mills, spinning towers 300 feet tall, with blades 160 feet long—filling the landscape, obscuring the horizon with rotating movement. Commodities—combines harvesting corn headed for high heat refining, ethanol . . . A highway sign bears a truck stop logo and an added advertisement: BIODIESEL.

News of Winter: Highway resurfacing (government money to be spent or lost) in preparation of the coming cold—“Uneven Pavement,” “Lanes Closed Next Two miles,” “Bridgework Ahead,” “Work Zone Speed Limit 50.”

Selfies

Pic-1, Dunes

The Dunes at Silver Lake, Michigan – 1.5 miles wide and 3 miles long, the mountainous dunes made of desert-like sand separate Silver Lake from Lake Michigan. Once a forested phenomenon discovered and written about by early North American pioneers, the need for pine to rebuild Chicago after the great Chicago fire left the dunes naked. Strong winds off of Lake Michigan have ensured they remain that way. Wind constantly moves the sand, ever changing the topography of the dunes, which have become one of the top tourist playgrounds in the United States. They have moved more than 1,200 feet northward since 1940. Here, I am at the northernmost edge of their migration.

Photo14
Oh yeah! Check out the view from my cockpit window. That’s the way I’m feeling today too, out on the adventure—soaring you might say.

Quote Of The Day samples

“It is better to light a candle than to curse the dark.” —Eleanor Roosevelt

“I destroy my enemies by making them my friends.” —Abraham Lincoln

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