Over Hill and Dale
From Bloomington, I headed straight south on Route 37. From Paoli on, this kept me within the Hoosier National Forest. The road got curvier and curvier and hillier and hillier. Went through lots of little towns that were no more than a few houses and a church and, if a real metropolis, a gas station or country store. [My favorite little town name so far has been Gnaw Bone, which is between Columbus and Bloomington. I passed through there Wednesday, and only this morning discovered I should have stopped for the famous Gnaw Bone Tenderloin sandwich. See http://www.gnawbonetenderloin.com] The ubiquitous Methodist churches began to be replaced by Baptist churches. Everything was green, green, green with trees and grass, except for the fields of yellow flowers and the roadside shows of white and purple wildflowers and full-bloom iris gardens. From time to time, the road would top a ridge and there would be a breathtaking centerfold vista of forested hills.
Finally, at Tell City, the road dropped to the flat of the Ohio River valley. After all that very-low-density rural country, the road turned right, and Pow! -- straight ahead about 1/2 mile was a factory or power plant with three tall smokestacks, and about 1/4 mile in the distance a huge smokestack spewing a white plume (probably condensing water vapor) that arched in a frame over the other smoke stacks. Instant industry.
I crossed the very wide and muddy Ohio River and turned right on US 60. This was nostalgic for me, because US 60 is the Main Street of the little West Virginia town in which I spent an idyllic year working for a judge and exploring the country roads of Greenbrier County. Perhaps it was then in the spirit of nostalgia that I stopped at the Happy Days drive-in in Lewisport KY for a cheeseburger and shake. The back cover of their menu asked how many pictures of '50s celebrities you could identify and, unfortunately, I could identify most of them.
On through Owensboro, and then onto the Audubon Parkway for 5 miles before cutting southwest on 56 to the Edward Breathitt Parkway (AAA scenic route). The drop south was evident in that nearly all the fields were already planted -- I saw one field with corn about a foot high. I stopped in Madisonville to take advantage of the facilities of a McDonalds (Bless you, McDonalds). Given the current debate about immigrants, it was interesting to see that, here in the Heartland, there were signs at the McDonalds in both English and Spanish. (Incidentally, having grown up in a state with both English and Spanish as official languages, I find the attempts to declare English as the official language ridiculous. It is the de facto official language throughout the world as it is. And nearly all of us in the US have some ancestors that never spoke fluent English, but their children did. I think we all should be required to be bilingual -- it increases flexibility of mind and learning skills. Oh, oh, I'm getting political. Well it is a blog. But back to travel.)
Next, west on the Wendell H. Ford Parkway until Eddyville, and then onto 641, which crosses the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers just below their respective hydropower dams. The two rivers are very close at that point, and their respective long, narrow reservoirs close in a 3-mile-wide strip of land that is the Between Lakes National Park. Glances to the north at each river revealed distant smokestacks and cooling towers.
Next onto the Purchase Parkway, and then a stop for the night at a delightful Days Inn in Mayfield, KY. I thought about finding a quaint motel on the lake, but was not confident any such thing would have wireless Internet access, not to mention cable TV, free breakfast, etc. I've been co-opted by the Anywhere America conveniences.
The day had been clear and sunny, but as the sun got low, clouds filled the sky. A flash alert warned of potential tornadoes to the east. At about 8:15 pm, the TV program was interrupted by a severe thunderstorm watch "in the following counties: Graves". That is the county I'm in. There was indeed a lot of very close thunder and lightening and rain, but Friday morning has again broken sunny and clear. I woke early to a diverse cacophony of birds. That has been true for the past few days; I know I am going to miss the abundance of song birds out west.
Now I really need to make time -- will probably do Interstate from here to Albuquerque. I don't like that -- the Interstates are their own separate state, two unvarying ribbons of pavement. In the East, they are bordered by walls of trees, in the West not. But otherwise it is the same grouping of franchises at the exits, the same mix of cars and semis on the road, all in a rush, the same monotony of not-too-steep of grades, not-too-sharp of curves. You miss the old storefronts and courthouse squares of the little towns, the status of the growing season, Stella's Diner, Hoosier Lumber, the odd things people put in their yards (yesterday one house had a 4-foot replica of the Statute of Liberty), the beautiful gardens others have planted, the blackbirds and swallows playing chicken with your oncoming car, the things that make the given state unique. You also miss seeing the signs of economy that are not tracked by the Dow or NASDAQ -- fields reverting to forest, shutdown motels and restaurants in tourist areas, roads in need of resurfacing. (Speaking of the Dow, the radio here reported commodity prices rather than the Dow!) But they (the Interstates) do get you there fast.
On that cheerful note, this unemployed traveler will speed off.
Finally, at Tell City, the road dropped to the flat of the Ohio River valley. After all that very-low-density rural country, the road turned right, and Pow! -- straight ahead about 1/2 mile was a factory or power plant with three tall smokestacks, and about 1/4 mile in the distance a huge smokestack spewing a white plume (probably condensing water vapor) that arched in a frame over the other smoke stacks. Instant industry.
I crossed the very wide and muddy Ohio River and turned right on US 60. This was nostalgic for me, because US 60 is the Main Street of the little West Virginia town in which I spent an idyllic year working for a judge and exploring the country roads of Greenbrier County. Perhaps it was then in the spirit of nostalgia that I stopped at the Happy Days drive-in in Lewisport KY for a cheeseburger and shake. The back cover of their menu asked how many pictures of '50s celebrities you could identify and, unfortunately, I could identify most of them.
On through Owensboro, and then onto the Audubon Parkway for 5 miles before cutting southwest on 56 to the Edward Breathitt Parkway (AAA scenic route). The drop south was evident in that nearly all the fields were already planted -- I saw one field with corn about a foot high. I stopped in Madisonville to take advantage of the facilities of a McDonalds (Bless you, McDonalds). Given the current debate about immigrants, it was interesting to see that, here in the Heartland, there were signs at the McDonalds in both English and Spanish. (Incidentally, having grown up in a state with both English and Spanish as official languages, I find the attempts to declare English as the official language ridiculous. It is the de facto official language throughout the world as it is. And nearly all of us in the US have some ancestors that never spoke fluent English, but their children did. I think we all should be required to be bilingual -- it increases flexibility of mind and learning skills. Oh, oh, I'm getting political. Well it is a blog. But back to travel.)
Next, west on the Wendell H. Ford Parkway until Eddyville, and then onto 641, which crosses the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers just below their respective hydropower dams. The two rivers are very close at that point, and their respective long, narrow reservoirs close in a 3-mile-wide strip of land that is the Between Lakes National Park. Glances to the north at each river revealed distant smokestacks and cooling towers.
Next onto the Purchase Parkway, and then a stop for the night at a delightful Days Inn in Mayfield, KY. I thought about finding a quaint motel on the lake, but was not confident any such thing would have wireless Internet access, not to mention cable TV, free breakfast, etc. I've been co-opted by the Anywhere America conveniences.
The day had been clear and sunny, but as the sun got low, clouds filled the sky. A flash alert warned of potential tornadoes to the east. At about 8:15 pm, the TV program was interrupted by a severe thunderstorm watch "in the following counties: Graves". That is the county I'm in. There was indeed a lot of very close thunder and lightening and rain, but Friday morning has again broken sunny and clear. I woke early to a diverse cacophony of birds. That has been true for the past few days; I know I am going to miss the abundance of song birds out west.
Now I really need to make time -- will probably do Interstate from here to Albuquerque. I don't like that -- the Interstates are their own separate state, two unvarying ribbons of pavement. In the East, they are bordered by walls of trees, in the West not. But otherwise it is the same grouping of franchises at the exits, the same mix of cars and semis on the road, all in a rush, the same monotony of not-too-steep of grades, not-too-sharp of curves. You miss the old storefronts and courthouse squares of the little towns, the status of the growing season, Stella's Diner, Hoosier Lumber, the odd things people put in their yards (yesterday one house had a 4-foot replica of the Statute of Liberty), the beautiful gardens others have planted, the blackbirds and swallows playing chicken with your oncoming car, the things that make the given state unique. You also miss seeing the signs of economy that are not tracked by the Dow or NASDAQ -- fields reverting to forest, shutdown motels and restaurants in tourist areas, roads in need of resurfacing. (Speaking of the Dow, the radio here reported commodity prices rather than the Dow!) But they (the Interstates) do get you there fast.
On that cheerful note, this unemployed traveler will speed off.
posted by Annventurer | 5:50 AM
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