Okay, that was a terrible pun. I apologize.
At the Harley Davidson 110th I met a friend of a friend, and as we talked about motorcycles (well, I guess there had to have been something else we talked about but I couldn’t tell you want it was), we hung out more and more, and then decided we would take a road trip. She liked music and hadn’t ever been to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, some where I had been past but never actually entered, so we decided that was where we were going.
Sadly, winter closed its cold and icy grip on the Midwest not long after we had worked all this out. I am always willing to ride a motorcycle, but Sue was less of a fan of marginal (okay, cold) riding. So, we would use her car.
I haven’t taken a car road trip in a while, apart from trips to Milwaukee for Roller Derby after coming back from South America. Those qualified, I guess, but this felt more like an actual trip somewhere, rather than just a long car ride. Blue was, of course, excited.
We piled into her car and headed through Chicago, having decided we would break up the long drive to Cleveland by stopping at the RV Museum and Hall of Fame. This was somewhere I’d wanted to visit for years, a classic road side attraction right off I-90. There have been times I’ve been envious of the RVers, with their refrigerators and stoves with multiple burners. And ovens. Seriously, it’s like traveling in a hotel room.
The drive was as boring as the south end of the Great Lakes can be, and we arrived at the RV museum. Oddly, there weren’t many people there.
We were actually very close to the closing time, having forgotten about time zones. Silly time zones. Since there wasn’t time for the guided tour (which was 2-3 hours, I had the impression the man working the desk would have loved to take us on it anyway), we opted for a quick lunch and wander.
It wasn’t a meal I couldn’t have made on the motorcycle, but I can’t argue it was easier with the large cooler, and there was certainly more to eat.
After the late lunch, Sue and I headed into the museum proper. There was a Hall of Fame as well, but we didn’t know enough about the history of RVs and Motorhomes to make looking at the list of names worthwhile. To be fair, we still don’t.
The museum had a little road to follow, and the exhibits were chronological along it.
I have to admit I liked the older stuff – it had less of a production/marketed feel to it. More like something someone whipped up on their own – so something I might have done myself.
As the decades rolled past the anemities of the campers improved, as the road side attractions to lure passersby into a visit.
Since this was a hall of fame, there were some famous RVs there. Sue, of course, fell in love with one of them –
This 1937 Hunt Housecar is one of exactly two – this one is named Star and the other Turtle – in the world. It was built by Hollywood cinematographer Roy Hunt, and it wasn’t for sale. It was pretty cool though.
As we moved forward in time, the road expanded into something which might have been a planned campground, with RV stalls and hookups, and little bridges and benches.
The road ended in the 70s with a large Class A that sat right next to the exit. It didn’t have the character of some of the older RVs, but it was still full of useful things and it was clear how the designers had gotten there.
Despite being there near closing, no one was in a rush to get us out of there, and as it turned out there was an event there that evening. We could have stayed and tried for free food, but decided to press on and try to make Cleveland. I had actually made a reservation for us there, so there was a reason to press on. Still, we couldn’t resist stopping somewhere for dinner along the way.
I don’t know if the wings really qualified as World Famous, since we’d never heard of them, but they were good and filling. And cheap – something wings are supposed to be and people tend to forget.
We reached Cleveland late, in the cold and snow (glad not to be on motorcycles). Checking in was a snap and we settled into our room for the next two nights.