Good morning. Welcome back. Spice got me out for an early morning walk. We could actually see the campground as the sun was rising. As she and I walked away from the campsite, we hung a left turn up the hill to see where it would take us. The road led us up the hill to a switchback where the road continued to climb along the ridge. After a ways, we turned around and headed back for breakfast. Later, I found out that we had almost climbed to the summit of one of Mississippi’s highest points; 603 feet above sea level.
While Carol bundled up the inside, I grabbed the step stool, Windex and a couple of rags to clean the windshield. It seemed that on Monday, a couple of thousand ladybugs elected to commit suicide on the front of the RV.
Last night we studied the maps and decided to take US 82 west through Mississippi and southern Arkansas to Texarkana. This route will put us between I-40 and I-20 and should be a pleasant drive. If we stay on Rte 82, we will proceed just north of Dallas, south of Amarillo and into New Mexico.
Saying “adios” to the Trace, we were off on to real roads with real traffic. The road was good, four lanes and smooth (I like smooth). As I have said before, we enjoy seeing the various towns along the way. It is a segment of America that we miss, racing down the Interstates. We do lose the rest stops and we do have the opportunity to catch some traffic, but it is worth the trade off.
One of our first observations was that Mississippi is pretty level. Many of the fields we drove by were wet, evidence of last week’s storms. The ground is saturated and the water is just not being absorbed quickly. Along the Trace and in northern Alabama, we saw pines grown as a cash crop. Here in Mississippi, the pines gave way to cotton. Carol had never seen cotton being grown, as far as she could remember, so we stopped by a cotton field. We waded through the weeds along the road and trespassed into the cotton field for some pictures.
Crossing the Mississippi into Arkansas, flooding of the low lying areas is very much in evidence. We had heard on the radio that one of the National Wildlife Preserves was closed as all of the trails and roads were submerged. Half an hour later, we saw it as we passed by the entry to the preserve. We were west of Greenville, AR in the Ouachita river basin and everything along the road was either wet or underwater. Arkansas is like a runway model, not flat, just enough rise to give a tease of character.
Carol found a KOA in Texarkana. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it. We made the left turn as instructed by Gigi only to find ourselves lost. As it turned out, the exit off of I-30 has been redesigned. Gigi was accurate for the old exit, but not the new design. A quick call to the KOA and we were back on track. It is a decent campground with only two drawbacks: the RR tracks pass within 500 feet as does the highway. Can you say “road noise”. But they did have a showing of “The Long, Long Trailer” staring Lucy and Desi. It is a great film for those of us who have time in an RV. We can identify with many of their misadventures.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
November 3, 2009 – Tip of the Hat to Jill
We spent an extra day in Nashville on Sunday. It was basically just to kick back, watch NASCAR/football, and take the dog for a long walk.
On Monday, we buttoned everything up and headed southwest. Our friend Jill had highly recommended the Natchez Trace Parkway, so we wanted to experience it. The Trace runs from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS. It actually begins some forty miles southwest of Nashville, but we all have some idea of where Nashville is. Few of us can locate the intersection of TN 100 and McCrory Lane, where the Parkway actually begins.
The Trace was everything Jill had said it would be. The only downside was “fall” had peaked a couple of weeks earlier. Combine that with a couple of strong storms and a lot of leaves were on their way to being mulch. All considered, it was a lovely drive. We stopped for some photos and took a couple of walks along the “Old Trace”. Being a parkway, the speed limits varied between 45 and 50 MPH, and there was very little traffic. The drive was relaxing.
Out of Tennessee, through the corner of AL and into Mississippi we drove. Tishomingo is a state park just inside of the MS/AL border. Carol and I had discussed camping in Tishomingo. The description of the park was very inviting, but it was still early in the day when we got there. Regardless, we went in for a look-see. My initial reaction was to stay, but if we stayed Monday evening, I would want to stay another day minimum. I was conflicted because we don’t have anything we really want to see between here and home, so let’s just head on home. I kept my thoughts to myself and asked Carol what she wanted to do. She was ambivalent, leaving the decision to me. We finished our tour and headed back to the Trace. For me, home had won out.
Back on the Trace, I told Carol about my thoughts on camping. She was in agreement. We both acknowledge there are many things we still want to see, but we don’t have the time remaining to visit areas the way we want to. So let’s just have an easy ride home. That being settled, where to go for the night? Carol found another campground about another 100 miles down the road. Jeff Busby campground has 17 campsites, but since Tishomingo was empty when we drove through it, we weren’t worried. Additionally, the campground has no services and no attractions. Why would you want to stay there? It was dark when we reached the campground. And, it was packed. There was no way to see where the campsite were or if they were empty other then to have Carol walk in front of the RV, flashlight in hand, making a visual search. We took the last spot available, an ugly little pull through, but it worked and it was only one night. You can set up really quickly when you don’t have to connect to shore power, run hoses for water and disconnect the Dakota. We just stopped, dropped the leveling jacks and we were done.
Then it was time to walk the dog, eat some dinner, read our books and go to bed. See you in the morning.
On Monday, we buttoned everything up and headed southwest. Our friend Jill had highly recommended the Natchez Trace Parkway, so we wanted to experience it. The Trace runs from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS. It actually begins some forty miles southwest of Nashville, but we all have some idea of where Nashville is. Few of us can locate the intersection of TN 100 and McCrory Lane, where the Parkway actually begins.
The Trace was everything Jill had said it would be. The only downside was “fall” had peaked a couple of weeks earlier. Combine that with a couple of strong storms and a lot of leaves were on their way to being mulch. All considered, it was a lovely drive. We stopped for some photos and took a couple of walks along the “Old Trace”. Being a parkway, the speed limits varied between 45 and 50 MPH, and there was very little traffic. The drive was relaxing.
Out of Tennessee, through the corner of AL and into Mississippi we drove. Tishomingo is a state park just inside of the MS/AL border. Carol and I had discussed camping in Tishomingo. The description of the park was very inviting, but it was still early in the day when we got there. Regardless, we went in for a look-see. My initial reaction was to stay, but if we stayed Monday evening, I would want to stay another day minimum. I was conflicted because we don’t have anything we really want to see between here and home, so let’s just head on home. I kept my thoughts to myself and asked Carol what she wanted to do. She was ambivalent, leaving the decision to me. We finished our tour and headed back to the Trace. For me, home had won out.
Back on the Trace, I told Carol about my thoughts on camping. She was in agreement. We both acknowledge there are many things we still want to see, but we don’t have the time remaining to visit areas the way we want to. So let’s just have an easy ride home. That being settled, where to go for the night? Carol found another campground about another 100 miles down the road. Jeff Busby campground has 17 campsites, but since Tishomingo was empty when we drove through it, we weren’t worried. Additionally, the campground has no services and no attractions. Why would you want to stay there? It was dark when we reached the campground. And, it was packed. There was no way to see where the campsite were or if they were empty other then to have Carol walk in front of the RV, flashlight in hand, making a visual search. We took the last spot available, an ugly little pull through, but it worked and it was only one night. You can set up really quickly when you don’t have to connect to shore power, run hoses for water and disconnect the Dakota. We just stopped, dropped the leveling jacks and we were done.
Then it was time to walk the dog, eat some dinner, read our books and go to bed. See you in the morning.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
November 1, 2009 – Ribbet, Ribbet One More Time
So it was cool and overcast Saturday morning. The campground had some evidence of flooding, especially the one low area where 12 to 18 inches of water accumulated. But since the rain had stopped and was forecasted to have passed (OK, it is a bad expression. You cannot forecast the past; you can only report what you believe happened. So let me change it.); the weather was forecasted to continue clearing (OK, that’s better); we decided to do make a touristy visit to downtown Nashville. Our first stop was the capitol building. Given that it was Saturday, parking was not a problem, but it also meant the building was closed. The capitol grounds have several statues of famous Tennesseans: Jackson, Johnson, Carmack and Sgt. Alvin C. York.
The capitol building sits on a rise, overlooking the city on all sides. Across the street, to the south of the capitol, sits the Tennessee War Memorial building. The structure is open in the center with plaques listing the war dead from WWI. In the mall area around the building, there are similar tributes to the Korean and Vietnam War dead. I could only assume the WWII dedication is within the building itself.
We left the capitol mall area and walked about 12 blocks to “The District”, an area of shops, restaurants, bars and entertainment. On the way, we walked by the old Ryman Auditorium. Originally built as a church in 1892, it later became a theater, hosting such notables as Enrico Caruso and Sarah Bernhardt. From 1943 to 1994, it was home to the Grand Ole Opry.
The district was just as advertised: live music pubs with country music and no cover; western wear stores; music stores; memorabilia and souvenir shops. The streets were busy with tourists and Georgia Tech fans, in town for the game with Vanderbilt. The music was already cranked up in most of the pubs. It was loud and not always good. We opted for a more traditional Saturday afternoon tradition and grabbed a couple of beers in a sports bar while watching college football.
Carol thought it might be fun to go to the Grand Ole Opry. Our campground is only a couple of miles away, so getting there would not be difficult. She went on line before we went downtown to see about tickets. I was skeptical. After all, it is Saturday, tickets could be scarce. Not to worry, she got two decent seats for the 7PM show. It was a great show. The GOO moved to a dedicated theater in 1994 when the Ryman Auditorium was renovated. As a tribute to all of the performers who had played in the Ryman, a three foot diameter circle was cut from the Ryman stage and placed into the stage at the new GOO music house. The GOO is the longest running, live radio show, still being broadcast on WSM and XM satellite radio. The show ran the gamut of C&W from Little Jimmy Dickens (who must be 80) to some Cajun, a little cowboy music from Riders in the Sky and finishing with Blake Shelton, a contemporary performer.
The capitol building sits on a rise, overlooking the city on all sides. Across the street, to the south of the capitol, sits the Tennessee War Memorial building. The structure is open in the center with plaques listing the war dead from WWI. In the mall area around the building, there are similar tributes to the Korean and Vietnam War dead. I could only assume the WWII dedication is within the building itself.
We left the capitol mall area and walked about 12 blocks to “The District”, an area of shops, restaurants, bars and entertainment. On the way, we walked by the old Ryman Auditorium. Originally built as a church in 1892, it later became a theater, hosting such notables as Enrico Caruso and Sarah Bernhardt. From 1943 to 1994, it was home to the Grand Ole Opry.
The district was just as advertised: live music pubs with country music and no cover; western wear stores; music stores; memorabilia and souvenir shops. The streets were busy with tourists and Georgia Tech fans, in town for the game with Vanderbilt. The music was already cranked up in most of the pubs. It was loud and not always good. We opted for a more traditional Saturday afternoon tradition and grabbed a couple of beers in a sports bar while watching college football.
Carol thought it might be fun to go to the Grand Ole Opry. Our campground is only a couple of miles away, so getting there would not be difficult. She went on line before we went downtown to see about tickets. I was skeptical. After all, it is Saturday, tickets could be scarce. Not to worry, she got two decent seats for the 7PM show. It was a great show. The GOO moved to a dedicated theater in 1994 when the Ryman Auditorium was renovated. As a tribute to all of the performers who had played in the Ryman, a three foot diameter circle was cut from the Ryman stage and placed into the stage at the new GOO music house. The GOO is the longest running, live radio show, still being broadcast on WSM and XM satellite radio. The show ran the gamut of C&W from Little Jimmy Dickens (who must be 80) to some Cajun, a little cowboy music from Riders in the Sky and finishing with Blake Shelton, a contemporary performer.
Friday, October 30, 2009
October 30, 2009 – Adding On with Observations
While driving through South Carolina (I think), we saw a GM plant that was shuttered tight. A few miles later, we passed a Nissan plant with a full parking lot. The same was true of a BMW plant we passed.
I understand dry counties in Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia, but we’ve stopped at several campgrounds that prohibit the consumption and possession of alcoholic beverages. It seems to me that you could always enjoy an adult beverage within your RV, just don’t display it outside. But these are privately owned campgrounds which prohibit possession.
Large acorns, striking the RV from a significant height, make a considerable noise.
Fall fell. The farther north we came from Atlanta, the more evident it became that the fall colors had peaked and passed. Where we had been seeing scarlet, gold and yellow, we were now seeing burnt orange, brown and some slow to molt, yellow. Late fall has a similarity to early fall. In the early fall, you see the occasional early changer. As we came north, we would see a single tree, surround by trees bereft of leaves, still clinging to leaves bright with color. They seemed to be saying, “no, not yet, the ball isn’t over”.
I understand dry counties in Tennessee, Kentucky and Virginia, but we’ve stopped at several campgrounds that prohibit the consumption and possession of alcoholic beverages. It seems to me that you could always enjoy an adult beverage within your RV, just don’t display it outside. But these are privately owned campgrounds which prohibit possession.
Large acorns, striking the RV from a significant height, make a considerable noise.
Fall fell. The farther north we came from Atlanta, the more evident it became that the fall colors had peaked and passed. Where we had been seeing scarlet, gold and yellow, we were now seeing burnt orange, brown and some slow to molt, yellow. Late fall has a similarity to early fall. In the early fall, you see the occasional early changer. As we came north, we would see a single tree, surround by trees bereft of leaves, still clinging to leaves bright with color. They seemed to be saying, “no, not yet, the ball isn’t over”.
October 30, 2009 – Notes on Things
Betsey, having now driven through this part of Kentucky, I understand why you must have enjoyed going to school here.
We drove south toward Nashville we crossed a lot of horse country. Beautiful farms and magnificent houses are the rule. As we drove through Keeneland, we noticed they have drive through betting. It is not as intoxicating as the drive through liquor stores in Texas, but still could be habit forming.
As some you know, I adopt soldiers. Generally, I receive some note of thanks, but I never expect any. I never received any word from my last soldier. I’ve been sending packages and letters to my current soldier for about five months now and had not heard any thing, but, I’ve never really expected to. While in Elkins, I was able to get on line and check my e-mail. There was a note of thanks from Noah with pictures of his wife and children. What a nice surprise.
Today’s forecast was for strong winds in the afternoon and rain, possible heavy at times, in the evening. It’s all true. I’m getting a bit tired of camping in the mud. We have been thinking about going to southern Mississippi before turning west, but the WX channel is calling for possible flooding, so plans may change.
Spice took all of her antibiotics and it seemed her bladder infection was gone. Then today, Carol saw blood in Spice’s urine, so we were off to the vet once more. Another round of antibiotics and a change to a special urinary diet was the prescription. And, see your vet when you get home.
Hopefully, the rain will end this evening and we will be off to see “Music City, U.S.A.” tomorrow.
We drove south toward Nashville we crossed a lot of horse country. Beautiful farms and magnificent houses are the rule. As we drove through Keeneland, we noticed they have drive through betting. It is not as intoxicating as the drive through liquor stores in Texas, but still could be habit forming.
As some you know, I adopt soldiers. Generally, I receive some note of thanks, but I never expect any. I never received any word from my last soldier. I’ve been sending packages and letters to my current soldier for about five months now and had not heard any thing, but, I’ve never really expected to. While in Elkins, I was able to get on line and check my e-mail. There was a note of thanks from Noah with pictures of his wife and children. What a nice surprise.
Today’s forecast was for strong winds in the afternoon and rain, possible heavy at times, in the evening. It’s all true. I’m getting a bit tired of camping in the mud. We have been thinking about going to southern Mississippi before turning west, but the WX channel is calling for possible flooding, so plans may change.
Spice took all of her antibiotics and it seemed her bladder infection was gone. Then today, Carol saw blood in Spice’s urine, so we were off to the vet once more. Another round of antibiotics and a change to a special urinary diet was the prescription. And, see your vet when you get home.
Hopefully, the rain will end this evening and we will be off to see “Music City, U.S.A.” tomorrow.
October 29, 2009 – We’re in Bluegrass Country.
For some reason, it has been difficult to keep up with my writing over the past few days. Everything seems to be written several days after the fact and this is no exception. So I’m going to not be as wordy or descriptive and just try to hit the high spots as we catch up.
Martinsville, the Sprint Cup race. The race was good. We took the truck and left the dog to guard the RV. We arrived a couple of hours prior to the start of the race and wandered around teams/sponsors trailers where you can shop for items that identify you as a fan. As race time neared, we grabbed a couple of BBQ sandwiches (highly recommended if you ever go) and went to our seats. Martinsville allows six-pack coolers and smoking. Very strange. The couple next to me smoked in alternating shifts. The two guys in front of Carol just smoked. It bothers Carol much more then me, both we didn’t allow it to detract from the race. The most interesting to see was a middle aged woman, a bit chunky and a bit buxom. She was wearing a black sweat shirt and a black hat, both embroidered in pink. The sweat shirt was emblazoned with “Save the Ta-Tas” and a pink breast cancer ribbon; the hat had just the ribbon. Once settled in, she lit up the first of many cigarettes she smoked during the race. It that a mixed message or just irony?
Fate. We had discussed going back towards Elkins, WV for one more visit. We really had not spent time in the Elkins area, just drove through and Carol thought it might be good to spend a couple of days to get the flavor of the town. (Note: if you really want to find out about a small town, just spend a couple of hours watching the customers at the WalMart.) I figured that we weren’t going to waste any realtor’s time, we were going to buy anything and we would probably come and visit again once we were more committed. I suggested we just head west and perhaps visit my brother Dave in Cincinnati. Carol acquiesced and suggested we call Dave and Judy first. Point taken, I called. Judy said that she and Dave would not be home as they needed to be in Elkins the following day. OK then, how about we meet you there? And so we did.
The Visit. Davis and Elkins College hosts several forums each year, most notable is Augusta, a five week session of music, dance and folk art. Over the years, Dave has attended several sessions at Augusta and has become their official photographer. Hence, he was back to photograph classes in fiddle, some jam sessions and the “old time fiddlers” reunion. We had dinner together on Monday evening at a Venezuelan restaurant. It was a surprise to find a Venezuelan restaurant in little old Elkins and it was surprisingly good. The next day, Judy met us at D&E and gave us a tour of some of the old homes on campus. The houses have been renovated and serve the college, providing administrative/meeting facilities and as a small hotel. We met Dave for lunch and then went to a mini concert highlighting various fiddle styles. It was very entertaining as a collection of fiddlers played, sometimes with a guitar accompaniment. Carol and I left to look at some property. Dave was busy the rest of the day, but Judy surprised us by dropping by our RV at the campground. We had a great visit with her.
When Dave and Judy first came by on Monday afternoon, they brought a couple of “gifts”. Dave has help move a cousin of ours into a nursing home. As he went about cleaning out her home, he found several items of pottery that our Aunt Ibby had thrown. So he brought a few to us. The best gift was a photograph of our dad at age 12 or 13. I don’t think I have ever seen a photo of him at that young an age. It’s really special.
Wednesday morning we packed everything up and headed out once more. Just for grins, we headed a bit north through the town of Philippi before turning west to the I-79 south. 350 some miles later, we pulled into the campground just outside of Lexington, KY.
Martinsville, the Sprint Cup race. The race was good. We took the truck and left the dog to guard the RV. We arrived a couple of hours prior to the start of the race and wandered around teams/sponsors trailers where you can shop for items that identify you as a fan. As race time neared, we grabbed a couple of BBQ sandwiches (highly recommended if you ever go) and went to our seats. Martinsville allows six-pack coolers and smoking. Very strange. The couple next to me smoked in alternating shifts. The two guys in front of Carol just smoked. It bothers Carol much more then me, both we didn’t allow it to detract from the race. The most interesting to see was a middle aged woman, a bit chunky and a bit buxom. She was wearing a black sweat shirt and a black hat, both embroidered in pink. The sweat shirt was emblazoned with “Save the Ta-Tas” and a pink breast cancer ribbon; the hat had just the ribbon. Once settled in, she lit up the first of many cigarettes she smoked during the race. It that a mixed message or just irony?
Fate. We had discussed going back towards Elkins, WV for one more visit. We really had not spent time in the Elkins area, just drove through and Carol thought it might be good to spend a couple of days to get the flavor of the town. (Note: if you really want to find out about a small town, just spend a couple of hours watching the customers at the WalMart.) I figured that we weren’t going to waste any realtor’s time, we were going to buy anything and we would probably come and visit again once we were more committed. I suggested we just head west and perhaps visit my brother Dave in Cincinnati. Carol acquiesced and suggested we call Dave and Judy first. Point taken, I called. Judy said that she and Dave would not be home as they needed to be in Elkins the following day. OK then, how about we meet you there? And so we did.
The Visit. Davis and Elkins College hosts several forums each year, most notable is Augusta, a five week session of music, dance and folk art. Over the years, Dave has attended several sessions at Augusta and has become their official photographer. Hence, he was back to photograph classes in fiddle, some jam sessions and the “old time fiddlers” reunion. We had dinner together on Monday evening at a Venezuelan restaurant. It was a surprise to find a Venezuelan restaurant in little old Elkins and it was surprisingly good. The next day, Judy met us at D&E and gave us a tour of some of the old homes on campus. The houses have been renovated and serve the college, providing administrative/meeting facilities and as a small hotel. We met Dave for lunch and then went to a mini concert highlighting various fiddle styles. It was very entertaining as a collection of fiddlers played, sometimes with a guitar accompaniment. Carol and I left to look at some property. Dave was busy the rest of the day, but Judy surprised us by dropping by our RV at the campground. We had a great visit with her.
When Dave and Judy first came by on Monday afternoon, they brought a couple of “gifts”. Dave has help move a cousin of ours into a nursing home. As he went about cleaning out her home, he found several items of pottery that our Aunt Ibby had thrown. So he brought a few to us. The best gift was a photograph of our dad at age 12 or 13. I don’t think I have ever seen a photo of him at that young an age. It’s really special.
Wednesday morning we packed everything up and headed out once more. Just for grins, we headed a bit north through the town of Philippi before turning west to the I-79 south. 350 some miles later, we pulled into the campground just outside of Lexington, KY.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
October 25, 2009 – Stone Mountain NC. State Park
What a great campground! Like many state park campgrounds, some sites have water and electric while others have neither. But each site in this campground has a 20X30 level patio, with the standard picnic table and fire pit. Consequently, the parking areas are fairly level and the sites are well spaced. Some of the sites are wooded as well.
With sunny weather on Thursday, we took a stroll to the top of Stone Mountain . The trail guide stated the six mile hike could be strenuous. Three tenths of a mile from the parking lot, we could go left to the Stone Mountain Falls
Reaching the base of the mountain, we were several hundred feet below where we had begun our walk. The trail was again, a steady rise along a trout stream. After a half mile or so, we arrived at “the homestead”. It is the original farmhouse of the family that worked this bottomland farm for three generations. Some of the outbuildings are replicated in the style of the farmhouse. There is a meadow above the homestead and across from Stone Mountain providing an excellent view of the limestone which makes up Stone Mountain . We sat and watched rock climbers on the face of the limestone. Over the eons, water flowing from the top of the mountain has eroded the limestone to create a ever steepening rock face. Unlike other areas where the freeze and thaw break off large sections of rock creating cliffs, this, from the top, is an inviting down slope. But be cautious; walk too far and it becomes nearly vertical.
Back on the trail, we reach a set of falls. There is a branch trail to the lower and middle falls, but we elected to stay on the main trail to the upper falls. This trail took us above the other falls, which didn’t seem that impressive. Soon we could hear the upper falls as the water cascaded into its base pool. Arriving at the falls, we took a stairway to the base of the falls where we sat to eat a bite of lunch. From the base, we could see the stream roll across and drop down a 50 foot slab of limestone. As it fell, it caught a ledge redirecting to the left where it bounced off another ledge and into the base pool. With lunch over, it was time to begin our ascent of the stairs. Expecting to see the crest of the falls 50 feet above, we were surprised to see the falls actually extending even higher. Like the top of the mountain, these falls begin on a limestone outcropping 200 feet above the base pool. The stream’s waters increasing in speed as the limestone slope increases its pitch until reaching vertical in the last 50 feet.
After climbing over 200 feet of steps, it was back to the parking lot and the truck. A great hike with lots of good views and a little history included.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)