May 31 The last day of the month dawns sunny and bright. Today we are digging into the past in a different way. Yesterday the ladies learned the early records for Athens county had all been transferred to the Alden Library Archives Department at Ohio University. That means we will spend the morning at the opposite end of Court Street from where we were yesterday, so after the now usual breakfast of oatmeal and blueberries, we headed off to Athens. None of us knew where Alden Library was, so instead of Linda and Katherine getting out of the car near the heart of the campus and asking someone where the Library was - they're always somewhere near the center of the campus - they had me drive around so they could look for it. One of the reasons to get a college education is so you'll intuitively know where the library is located, lol.
Needless to say, I was not happy. With almost 17,000 students in a town of 21,000 people, traffic on campus is almost gridlocked. So we moved slowly, very slowly, away from the area I thought the Library was, to a point where traffic thinned enough to head back to where we started. At this point Linda asked someone where Alden Library was and the place where we had recently been was pointed out. Circling back around, I told the ladies to get out of the Explorer and find the Library as I was going to find a place to park and would be along shortly. Given the population of the town in relation to the student body, off street parking is very limited and difficult to come by. About three blocks above Court Street in the midtown area I found a spot and pulled in next to a high concrete wall. Walking away I happened to glance back at a small white sign. This surely saved my bacon, as it said there was no parking after 1:30 PM on weekdays. That would work for me as we were planning on spending the morning at Alden Library and the afternoon at the Historical Society. smile.
What a wonderful place an archive and research library is.
A place I could had spent my life, a place I would happily
spend the 
next few hours. We sign in and
a short time later four will packets containing the clues to how four
of Linda's ancestors lived their lives was brought to us. Slowly, piece
by piece, glimpses into the lives of two of her great grandfathers and
two of her great great grandfathers came to light. Some had money, one
had virtually nothing. Some had outlived most of their children,
another died young. The faded, yellowing, brown tinged papers breathed
life into what had previously just been names, then in the past few
days had turned into stones in small country cemeteries. Doctor bills
showing repeated visits over the last few weeks of life. A receipt to
an undertaker for a coffin. A request for money's from a daughter who
had been the caregiver during the decedents last years. Little
scraps of paper that drawn together paint a real life picture
of a person, not of their countenance, of their very being. This is
truly the real deal.
We were so immersed in the past, three hours had flown by almost before we knew it. Later, lunch at the subway over, the car moved, we settled down at the Historical Society for more research. It was an instant replay of yesterday and resulted in an afternoon of discovery for the ladies. One of the more interesting finds was a photograph of their great great grandfathers mercantile store taken sometime in the late 1800's. In the photo below, the store is not the large building with the sign in the foreground, it is the small building at the far right of the photo. As always, it's not how big the store is that counts, it's how much money you make from it, and in that area Linda's great great grandfather really excelled.
Dinner was a leisurely affair. Eaten slowly, savored. Followed a few hours later with a dish of ice cream. Yesterday, we didn't think it could get any better, but it did. We live a never ending adventure and life is good.
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May 30 Something the same, something different. The same is
breakfast. Oatmeal over frozen blueberries. The different is family
history research. We begin our day with a trip to a school. Not any
school. A very special school. One that was the dream of a man who
never got to go to high school. One that was designed to give a
practical education to the youth of this area. One that recognized 
not
everyone goes to college. One that allowed real world people to be
trained for real world jobs. Jobs as varied as auto mechanics,
health care services, office work, carpentry and criminal justice,
along
with a host of other occupations. The man with the dream was Linda's
father. A man who truly understood the value of education in giving
everyone the opportunity to get ahead in life. A man who watched all
his children move away shortly after completing high school to chase
the dream of a better life. A man whom I was always
proud to call my father-in-law and someone who knew the true meaning of
"going fishing." For over 35 years this school has given the
young people of the area the skills they need to remain here and raise
their own families instead of moving away in order to find jobs as was
so often necessary years ago. A gentle, unassuming man with a big
dream.
How big are your dreams?
Our next stop was to visit with Katherine and Linda's Aunt Ellen , who will be 98 years old in a few weeks. Not only did they get to visit with their aunt, but also with their cousins, Hellen and Clarence.
Following this, we drove into Athens. That this is a college
town, there can be no doubt. Students everywhere, the main street lined
with stores that cater to their every need and a total dearth of
available parking, smile. Even given all this, Athens is a magnificent
place.
One where many of the streets mark the passage of cars with the
gentle hum of tires on bricks. The tree lined streets, gently rolling
terrain and architecture of a bygone era adding to the scene.
The past and present juxtaposed in ways that tend to be pleasing with
only the occasional garish intrusion. The new modern bank building that
stands out like a sore thumb. Why must they destroy the "sense" of the
town with some ugly, utilitarian modern building right in the heart of
the old town area? Even more exasperating is why cities allow "them" to
erect buildings like this in the first place. Just goes to further
prove that the terms "dumb politician"and "cheapskate banker" are
indeed oxy-morons. So much for one of my pet peeves, smile.
Well not quite because next we walk by the site of the former "Berry
Hotel". Once a magnificent edifice that catered to the rich and famous,
today its former location is marked by a historical plaque. Instead of
the hotel there is a hole in the ground, fronted by a small glass
and stainless steel diner. Urban renewal at its finest. I
often wonder how many other people see this destruction of America the
same way I do, or am I simply stuck in the past, just one more
impediment to progress?
They do have one absolutely glorious archetctural gem in Athens, the county courthouse.
Continuing the theme for the day, the old and the new, we enter through the old facade of a building and find ourselves inside a subway sandwich shop. You're right, no turkey roll ups for lunch today. It's turkey on whole wheat instead. I would say finding both the current use of this old building and the substitution of the whole wheat bun for the whole wheat tortilla, acceptable, goes to prove I'm somewhat adaptable in my views, lol. Next it was off to the Athens County Historical Society, about a half block away. They have off street parking at the side of their building, so we could stop feeding quarters into the meters if I moved the Explorer, which I did. Later we found out the city is ruthless about towing cars that are parked where they shouldn't be, so be sure to park in their lot only during the hours the Society is open if you plan to spend time there. We weren't sure what to expect, but what ever our expectations might have been, the ACHS far exceeded them. They had a number of displays highlighting the type of wedding dresses worn over the years in the front of the building. Many of them were from the latter half of the 1800's and all were from weddings that took place in Athens county. Behind the display section was the genealogy library and research area. While I spent a good deal of time in the displays, Linda and Katherine made a beeline back to the past, so speak, perusing the the shelves of the genealogy library. By the time I got back there, the table they were using was already littered with books, papers, notes and copies. They were like a pair of birds flittering around a newly discovered berry patch. Excitement filled the air as "Look at this", "I never knew that", "They even have these records" and other statements of that type passed back and forth between them. As they made find after find, I took a different route, selecting one of the "dead end" family lines to pursue. It made for a lot of interesting reading on my part, but no discoveries. Linda was definitely finding more than she could handle so I helped her for a while, while Katherine tried to make a connection to Edward Berry of the famed Hotel Berry. You know, the old family story which can be looked at either with a preconceived notion or an open mind.
We did not close down the library. Rather we left early, the ladies somewhat mentally exhausted from information overload. Returning to the campground, we decided to go off in search of the final two pieces of the cemetery puzzle. The only problem was, we left without the GPS or the modern county map. What we did leave with was a vague idea of the location of the two cemeteries in question. This proved to be a very bad idea. The ladies were tired, I was tired and the roads didn't seem to be where they were in 1875. At least we did have a map, the only problem was it was 131 years old. It wasn't necessarily that the roads on the old map didn't exist anymore, because most of them did. It was that all those new roads they build seemed complicate things, smile. Suffice it to say we had a long but not very happy trip. Nothing seemed to be where we thought it would be and eventually we found ourselves heading back to Athens. Later, upon returning to the campground we had a nice long talk. Linda talked, I listened. After dinner we set out once again in search of those last few missing relatives. Having paid very close attention to Linda's comments after the fiasco of this afternoon, I had programed the GPS for both cemeteries and also had brought along a full complement of maps, smile.
Just like in the movies, we had no problem finding the first
cemetery. 
In the slowly setting sun about a half mile away from a
gigantic
brick house, a house that had the family name of one of
Linda's ancestors displayed on the mailbox, we walked among Linda and
Katherine's kinfolk. Other than that the low angle of the sun made
reading some of the stones a challenge, we had an awe inspiring time.
The setting sun, partly hidden behind a huge maple tree, the green
fields and contrasting woods, the little white church next to the
cemetery and the big brick house on the hill in the distance all
combined to produce an most marvelous and almost ethereal scene. The
most difficult part of the visit turned out trying to get photo's of
the stones in evening light, which abounded with shadows.
As we left, bound at last for the object of our fruitless and exasperating afternoon quest, the GPS provided directions in the British accented voice we've come to know so well, especially when it has told us to make a U-turn in the middle of an interstate highway, lol. With unerring accuracy it took us down the same roads, only in the opposite direction, that we had traversed this afternoon, eventually directing us to turn onto a small side road that veered off at an oblique angle. Soon we were in the back country, driving on very narrow, extremely curvy and precipitously steep gravel roads. Linda followed each turn on the map she had which showed all the township roads we were driving on. Finally, after the steepest climb of all, a few headstones appeared in the rapidly graying remains of the day. At last, we had found the cemetery and the marker we had been searching for. All alone it stood, relatives of neither husband nor wife present. No wonder it was so hard to find. A simple, yet beautiful light gray stone carved to resemble an alter with a closed bible placed atop it. An unreadable verse carved near its base. A story of tragedy, love and family bitterness standing forlornly in the fading light of a late spring day. Never do we seem to find answers, only more questions. It was time to leave the old man and his much younger lover. It was time to leave the 19th century and return the present. But nothing can ever take away the feeling of loneliness and sadness that we we felt in concert with these two forgotten souls as we stood there in the fading light, wondering how and why. Have you, today, told someone they mean the world to you and you love them with all your heart ?
To know the link with the past. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.
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May 29 Memorial Day. Today Linda and I will do what we have done on Memorial Day for most of our lives. As children we accompanied our parents and as adults we took our children. You see, today it is our tradition to visit cemeteries. As children we visited the cemeteries where our grandparents were buried. After we had moved to California, we took our children to a local cemetery. We wanted to hand down the same tradition to our children that had been passed on to us. We explained it was day to honor those who had gone before us. After many years, we would once again be visiting grandparents graves again today.
It was a hot, muggy, buggy, humid day, a local weatherman referred to it as "muggidy", a term I find very appropriate, smile. Still, there is an underlying beauty in these hills that transcends the weather. A certain calmness, sort of like slowly ambling through life, no cares, no hurry, just enjoying the day as it unfolds. Linda had gathered up all her "cemetery things", put in four bottles of water and packed a lunch in our little cooler. Our first stop was a little cemetery on a hill overlooking some distant rolling fields. The morning air was fresh, the cemetery newly mown, the songs of birds filled the air, it was a beautiful resting place for one of Linda's great grandfathers.
It did not take
Linda long to find the grave, as she remembered being here many years
ago with
her mother. The
stone sat between two ancient
maple trees. The thought
crossed my mind as to whether they were here when he was laid to rest,
some 95
years ago and if so how big were they at that time. Irregardless, they
stood there
today, like two silent sentinels guarding an old soldier. And an old
soldier was what he was. The simple headstone, the standard government
issue for the day, listed only his name and the company and regiment he
served in during the Civil War. The old soldier was alone. No
companion stone stood beside his. His wife of over 50 years was
not here.
A small mystery that may never be solved. As we walked the back part of
the cemetery, checking all the markers, we were struck by the fact that
these badly weathered stones were probably the only trace left to mark
where almost all of these
people had lived. The old cabins, houses, barns and out buildings had
all fallen into disrepair many years ago and virtually no trace of them
was left. Only these old stones where left, the merest hint of what had
gone before. I was glad we were here.
One of the problems we have had when trying to find these
cemeteries is that the name we have for the cemetery may have changed.
This one had proved to be a different sort of challenge because the
name of the
town (crossroads) had changed. That, however, would not be the
case with the next
cemetery we were going to visit. We had been there a few days ago with
Charles, spending a very limited amount of time before moving on down
the road. 
This would be a
very special visit today for Linda. That was because her mother
had brought her here on
numerous occasions when Linda was a little girl. This was a repetition
of something Linda's mother had done many years ago as a
little girl when her mother had also brought her here to this same
cemetery.
Traditions, things we pass on to those we love. Though Linda knew
exactly where the marker for her grandparents and great grandparents
were, we still walked the entire cemetery, recording many names and
taking a photo of each stone that could be a relative. Later we walked back to the Explorer, got
our picnic lunch and lawn chairs, then walked back into the cemetery
and sat under a tree near the grave of Linda's grandparents. As
we sat in the cool shade Linda talked about some of the things her
mother spoke to her about. The traditions she had passed down to Linda.
How Linda's grandmother
would bring her kids to this cemetery and they would eat a picnic lunch
under the trees. Talk about something special. There was no way I could
be feeling what Linda was at this precise moment, but I knew it was a
feeling no words could convey. This was not a quick lunch, this was a
long, slow, leisurely time of reflection and
memories.
Loading the chairs in the Explorer, Linda noticed a movement. It turns out we were not the only ones enjoying the cemetery today.
As we sat there, we noticed a lady slowly walking through the
cemetery, stopping on occasion in front of a stone before slowly moving
one. Linda could sense the same feeling emanating from this starnger that she was feeling.
Finished eating, we carried everything back to the Explorer, then Linda
walked over to the lady. Indeed she was also visiting her
ancestors. Having been born directly behind the cemetery, her
ancestors and relatives were present in abundance. Linda had one
cemetery which she had visited many, many years ago with an
aunt. The
problem was, she couldn't remember where it was located. This lady was
familiar with it,
and gave Linda directions. It would be our next stop. One of the
problems when a woman gives directions to another woman is the
information tends to get garbbled at both the sending and receiving
ends of the communication. We ended up taking a somewhat round about
way of driving to the cemetery. Our actual driving distance via
the route we took was 9.5 miles along gravel roads. 
The actual
distance between the cemeteries, all on paved roads except for
the last 1000 feet was just under a mile, smile. In the end the semi
wild goose chase ended happily. Because this cemetery proved to be a
goldmine for Linda. There were a number of her grandparents with many
"greats" buried
there. But of even more importance to Linda at the moment was finding
the grave of her mom's favorite aunt. The "Aunt Rosette" that Linda
always remembered her mom speaking so fondly of. But that was not all.
There was a quilt that had been divided among the family over
years that had a story behind it. Seems that when Linda's grandmother
was a little girl she lived with and helped the wife of one of the
local store owners. During this time she sewed up a quilt made from the
fabric scraps from the store. Linda found the tombstone of the store
owner and his wife almost
next to Aunt Rosette's. To know the link with the past. To experience
the connection
of being human.
The
joy of
life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and
on. What an awesome day this has been.
Later, after a dinner of roasted chicken with garlic and
onions, served with sweet potatoes and asparagus, the "kids" 
relaxed
and talked. I must add a comment about the meal. The electric hookups
at this campground are not the best. We can only run one thing at a
time, so although the chicken should have baked in the convection oven,
it ended up being sauteed on top of the stove. Still turned out to be
great, smile. It was such an emotional day that we had our ice cream
early and called it a day. A day that we had both predicted would be
wonderful and ended up far exceeding our wildest dreams. Just one more
reason we're so glad that we just up and quite our old life to live
this one. That now we can do things like we did today, because we can
and you can too, just believe you can.
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May 28 History beckons us into the hills today. Of course before you can expend all that energy searching the hills, you must properly fortify yourself with the nutrition necessary to enable the adventure to proceed, smile. I have to admit that after so many weeks of strawberries on my oatmeal, I find that blueberries, even if they are frozen, to be a refreshing change. As always, Linda intuitively knows what is best, and the general rule is, what is best for her is also best for me, lol.
It is the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, so we are planning
on doing
something
very special this morning. We are going to attend
the Sunday Service at
the little country church were we were married. What a wonderful
experience this proved to be. Linda's high school class Sunday school
teacher and
also her youth leaders still go to the church, 40 years later. She had
a great
time talking to them before the service. It was also a special day for
them, because their son, one of Linda's classmates, had been killed in
Viet Nam
just a few months after their class graduated. We have our freedoms in
America
because of the sacrifices voluntarily made by Americans. This little
country church reflects everything which makes America great. The
minister had served as a ships chaplain and when they had the veterans
in the congregation stand, nearly every older person stood. The hymns
were: God of Our Fathers; My Country Tis of Thee; and The Battle Hymn
of the Republic. As we sang the latter two, in each case my mind went
back to the sanitized hymnal they used in the church we had formerly
attended before we started on our journey of adventure. A hymnal where
all references to he or she, war, battle or any other supposedly
politically
incorrect reference had been purged. Then they wondered why the
attendance kept declining, we were two of them, smile. It's the
opportunities we have to take part in the real America that give
special meaning to the life that we now live.
The rest of the day was spent searching for the past. When we had visited cemeteries with Linda's brother and sister, Charles and Katherine last week, it had been more to identify the location of the cemetery, rather than identify all their ancestors who were buried there. Also, there had been no real plan, rather it was more of a where do you want to go next type of thing. Then when we would get to a location it was interesting to listen to the conversations. It seemed like everything that Charles has done in life can only be related to mowing grass. Pull up to a cemetery and he would soon be talking about mowing it at one time or about how many cemeteries he mowed for various townships in Indiana. Never did figure out what that had to do with the task at hand, smile. Linda was running the video camera, but she was not the one with the information about many of the places. Charles and Katherine were familiar with the places, yet they didn't want to talk about it on camera. It was that special opportunity to get all those stories about grandma and grandpa, so to speak, recorded for future generations, they were able to get a few stories on film, but never enough. That wouldn't happen in my family, but that is because there is only me left, sigh.
It was an interesting drive back down to the area where Linda's ancestors had lived. Four generations of her family on both sides had lived within just a few miles of each other. The hills, the woods, and the small fields, most of which were no longer farmed, marked our passage. Soon off the paved roads, a plume of dust trailed behind us as wound our way along narrow gravel roads that were the same roads her ancestors had used for the last 175 years. I drove slowly, the crunch of gravel mingling with the songs and calls of the birds, much of the way in the shade of trees arching over the roadway. A drive filled with magical moments. It would be neat if this were a land that time had forgotten, but that is not the case. Once sparsely dotted with log cabins, old farm houses and barns, it is different now. The log cabins and almost all of the farmhouses and barns are long gone. Only the occasional newer house or trailer gives evidence that someone lives back here. It is more or less a land that people forgot.
Immersed in thoughts of the past, we drove until we
arrived
at one of the cemeteries we had been at last week. Often times
cemeteries
are associated with churches. Back here that does not seem
to be the case, or if it was, the church and all evidence of it is long
gone. 
We walked the entire cemetery, trying to decipher each stone,
many of which were illegible. The easy way to do this would be to look
in one of the books that lists the transcribed information from the
stones in the cemetery.
If all you want is information, it will provide you with it. But
standing there, in front of the stone, you are given a window into the
past. Stand in front of a simple stone with two initials carved into
it, the initials of your great, great, great grandmother and dwell for
a moment on her. To deny her is to deny yourself, to ignore her is to
to tell others to ignore you. History is a treasure that is
unbelievably rich and deep. It is also the most difficult to mine.
One of Linda's real treasures has been a simple black and white photo. Taken in 1901 and showing four generations of women in her family, it has hung on our family room wall for over 30 years. The one constant question Linda has repeatedly asked over the years was, where was the picture taken. The reason is because of the rocks, the rocks that serve as a backdrop for the picture. So what you say, it's just a picture. Think again. Linda's aunt as a baby, held in the arms of Linda's grandmother. On one side of them Linda's great grandmother, on the other side, Linda's great, great grandmother and behind them those rocks. Linda has this love of rocks and these rocks were the most special of all rocks. The story was that the photo was supposedly taken somewhere on the family farm and since the farm had been located just down the road from the cemetery were were at, we decided to stop there next.
Down the hill we went, the same view appearing that we saw a few days ago when when we had been her with her brother and sister. That day, from her brother, we'd only learned that there had once been a log cabin and barn "over there" somewhere. On the other hand we also learned he'd cut his thumb and saw some snakes when he was here mowing. Since we were interested in history, we had come back again. The road followed the edge of a hill, before us spread an expanse of open flat bottom land, bordered by a creek on the far side with another line of hills sloping upward from the creek. No evidence of a cabin or barn could be seen and the electric fence that enclosed a number of grazing cattle precluded exploration. The other day her brother had driven only a few hundred feet down the road and then turned around. As the bottom land extended for quite a ways we decided to drive on down the road.
As we drove, our eyes searched the far side for any sign of a barn or cabin. There was none. Deciding we had driven far enough, we turned around and very slowly drove back. At he highest point on the road, I stopped and turned off the engine. Linda looked at me quizzically. Here we were, on a warm, sunny afternoon, stopped in the middle of a gravel road in the hill country of Southeastern Ohio. That was one way of looking at it. The second way was look out over the very land Linda's ancestors had lived on and imagine them here. I told Linda I had stopped here to listen to the sound of the birds, at the same spot and with the same sounds that three generations of her grandmothers had no doubt experienced. We sat there for probably close to 5 minutes, deep in the past. Could her great, great grandmother and grandfather have once paused on this very same crest to look at their land, see their cabin and listen to the sound of the birds. I have to believe that not only could they have, they did.
Finally I asked Linda if she was ready to go and she said yes. As I was starting the Explorer, she exclaimed, "The rock, it's the rock!" Peeking out above the trees beside us was a sandstone prominence. Before I could even get out of the car, she was half way up the hill to the base of the rock. Normally a very timid and overly cautious climber, she was grabbing bushes to pull herself up the slope, unmindful of the possibility of poison ivy or snakes, she had a goal. A goal that now towered over her. What I was seeing right now was the answer to the question as to why ordinary people can sometimes accomplish extraordinary things. I truly believe that at that moment she was every bit as exited and happy as Professor Carter was, the moment he first saw King Tut's Tomb.
The sandstone face, being soft by nature, had eroded such that there was a natural indent in the rock face. She was immediately drawn to the spot. By now, I had also climbed up to the rock, the Explorer still parked in the middle of the road. What a difference just a few feet can make. Here at the edge of the woods, near the rock, it was cool, almost as if it were a natural air conditioner. A place to find respite from the summers heat. Yes, this was the spot she had been wondering about all those years. All the while, the most beautiful smile covered her face. She wanted her photo taken and I framed the picture. Her smile had vanished, replaced by the same more serious look that stared out from the faces on the photo she so cherished. A photo taken by her grandfather that summer day, 105 years ago. We just didn't happen on this spot, we weren't just lucky to find it, it wasn't just coincidence that I stopped the Explorer right here to listen to the sounds. We were led to those rocks.
Later, as we drove on towards another cemetery, we talked about one of the mysteries of the rocks. Linda had remembered being told a long time ago that the rocks were on her great grandmothers property. As we talked she dug through a pile of papers she had. One of them was copy of a land map from 1875. It solved the mystery. Her great great grandmother had owned the land on both sides of the road, the rocks were on her land. Now there was no doubt in our minds, we were led to those rocks. Another cemetery, more glimpses into the past and the day drew to a close. We enjoyed a picnic dinner with the family. It had been a long, hard, hot emotion filled day for both of us. To know the link with the past. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.
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May 27 Linda's day today. At noon her classmates are getting together for a picnic lunch. Then at 6:30, the annual Albany Alumni Banquet is being held. It will be her 40th, so she's hoping many of her former classmates will be there. In the past, the turnout has been low with many of those living close by not attending. Whatever happens, it should be fun. But first breakfast calls and so we repeat our 7:1 breakfast blend of yesterday morning. We will have to make a food run today as we used the last of the fresh strawberries. As we were eating our oatmeal a Redwing Blackbird came to the bird feeder, landing under it and started eating the seed that had fallen to the ground. What a pretty sight with its red patches outlined in creamy yellow on its wings. Visitors like these make the typing go very slow, smile. Some days you don't accomplish very much and this morning proved to be one of those days.
Finally, with noon approaching, we began to get ready for the picnic. This was my time to anticipate what she wanted and do it before she needed it done. It was a time of strict and immediate obedience on my part to any and all of her wishes. I did a fairly good job of it with only one or two miscues. Though they were only minor deviations from blind devotion to her needs on my part, I was immediately chastised and my position in the order of things made known, lol.
We drove into Albany and soon located where the picnic was,
just as
we drove by it. Turning around, we followed an early 1950's
flatbed truck in the driveway. Linda was back among the people she grew
up with, some of whom hadn't changed much, smile. We had a 
great
time.
They had decided to not use name tags, which meant there was a lot of
"I don't know who that is", and "Come on, guess again who I am", type
of conversations going on. One neat thing that Linda had us do, was
wear our shirts that had our names embroidered on them. Made it so no
one tried to guess who I was since there were no Bob's in the class,
they just asked who I was married to and
besides, a number of people knew me from the reunion, five years ago.
You hear the following comments repeated over and over, is "Where is
X", "We talked to X, but he/she says they see us all the time, so they
don't need to come." "Whatever happened to X?" and so on and so on.
This is a special time, heck we came almost 2500 miles to attend. Why
is it that some people get so wrapped up in themselves they can't see
the trees for the forest. Better get off my soapbox before I get in
trouble with Linda, smile.
It was fun listening to everyone joke about how they should have it at their house next time because it would give them an excuse to clean out the garage. The setting was gorgeous. Small town America, the expanse of green lawn, the shade of the trees, a peace and tranquility gently resting over the land.
Everyone was asked to bring a dish for the meal and a dessert. While it was not a food judging, I'm sure most people tried to bring one of their favorite dishes. Hence, I, an outsider so to speak, took it upon myself to try to sample all the dishes. It was a tough job but I had the stomach for it, lol. There were so many really good dishes it was actually hard to pick the definite winner. After resampling some of the dishes several times, I decided that this bowl of homemade noodles was the hit of the party. Never did find out who made them, which was appropriate, since they were all winners in my book.
I had almost decided to have a separate judging for desserts, but luckily common sense won out, lol.
But the most fun of all was the fun of sharing pictures.
Connections.
After the gathering of all the old people had concluded, we drove in towards Athens to get some groceries. This is definitely not the big city and the selection was, shall we say, limited at best, small. We did end up with frozen blueberries for breakfast after a diligent search. As we were putting the groceries into the Explorer, I noticed the right front tire was quite low. It had been pulling just a little to the right on the drive over and I guess it was just in my mind to look as that is Linda's side of the car so to speak and I very seldom would ever look at that tire. I drove over to a shady spot an put on the spare. Of course it was also slightly low, but there was an air hose at the gas station just in front of the store we were at. All set, we drove back to the campground. During the trip back I thought about how fortunate we were to have the tire go down now. It could have been a major problem if it had gone down while we were pulling the Explorer behind the coach. As Linda says, things happen for a reason, smile
As 5:30 approached I was once again put under the total control of the woman with whom I live. It was time to get ready for the banquet. I thought it a tad bit early, but the boss was amandant we arrive about 10 minutes early at 5:50. I had been under the impression the banquet started at 6:30, not at 6:00 as she thought. Given the tension in the air, it was not a subject I was about to brooch, smile. After we had dressed to her exacting standards, I had to admit we both looked very sharp, she had really done an outstanding job. W got there right on time at 5:50, parked and walked to the building where the banquet was being held. There were quite a few people already there and it looked like Linda had been right about the time. The name tags were all laid out by class year. It looked like we were one of the first to arrive from her class, but with the earlier picnic, we suspected most would arrive at the very last minute.
Going into the room it appeared most of the people from the
older
classes were already there.There we former students of Albany High
School from the class of 1929 to 1966, the year the school closed. No,
it wasn't what you are thinking. Linda and her classmates were not so
bad they had to close the school. They consolidated with another school
district and built a new school.That was the real reason, or at least
that was the story Linda told me, lol. Six o'clock came and went
without the banquet starting. We wandered out front and found out it
didn't start until 6:30. My nearly 39 years of training by Linda on how
to please a woman served me well and I simply talked about how most of
the people from the early classes seemed to have arrived early to talk
with their classmates.
Since we now had a little time to kill, we looked at the pictures of some of the earlier classes when we happened upon several of her classmates doing the same thing. The rest of the evening was either conversation, consuming food or listening to the program. One of the very interesting things they do is to recognize all the former students that are present. Linda got special mention as the person who had traveled the farthest to attend. As they introduced the oldest alumni present, Linda leaned over and said, "He was in my Mom's class." Connections, they are everywhere, we just have to recognize them. After the banquet was over, Linda went over to the member of her mothers class and talked with him for a few moments about her mother. He remembered her mother and Linda felt it was a very special moment getting to talk to him. More connections.
When the last class to graduate is celebrating its 40th, its no wonder there might be a few gray hair gentlemen present.
Isn't it always amazing just how much there is to talk about . The hub bub in the halls between class,. The laughter and banter before class started. It's like the intervening 40 years never occurred.
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May 26 Another grave day, smile The blend of oatmeal and steel cut oats was a little different this morning. Instead of a 3:1 blend, today, Linda made a 7:1 blend. A little runny, not quite so nutty as yesterday, and also not quite as good, but as long as it's oatmeal, it's got to be good, smile. While all this was going on, we had a new visitor to the bird feeder. The long billed, short tailed, upside down bird, smile. Flying in towards the feeder, it would land on the trunk of the oak tree the feeder hangs from. After perching there for a while with its white breast contrasting against it bluish black wings, it fly over to the feeder, and perch hanging upside down. It was the first nuthatch we have seen.
Once again Charles, Betty Lou and Katherine picked us up and we were off on another quest for graves, tombstones and markers. We first drove through Athens, a city from another time. As we drove down Court Street, I overheard the constant exclamations regarding stores that were no longer there. With the Ohio University campus sitting at the south end of the street, downtown had totally been reinvented over the last 40 to 50 years. This area was the domain of the students, all the stores catering to their needs or whims. The main shopping area had migrated east of town on State Street. It was not the town the three of them had left those many years ago. I was amazed at the number of brick streets. It was almost like time stopped 60 years ago as far as the streets were concerned. And not only were the streets brick, the curbs were cut stone, just like they would have been a hundred years ago when Linda's grandparents would have come into town.
Connections with the past. Sitting in a modern mini-van, riding through a small town, my mind a hundred years in the past. The dream of my life as small boy to be a history teacher, the dream of my life as a teenager, to be a college professor. A war in a small southeast Asian country and somehow my dreams turned to dust. I for one would not live my life the same were I to live it again. I would have been a history professor at a small college in the Midwest. How about you, the pat answer is, I wouldn't change a thing, but are you sure? What about the dreams you had? I didn't get to live mine, did you?
Soon we were passing through the gates of the Athens City Cemetery. Up near the front gate is a huge monument surrounded by a number of smaller stones. It is the grave of Linda's great, great, great grandfather and his son, her great, great grandfather who rose from being a small merchant in Albany to become the leading banker in Athens in his day.To know the link with the past. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.
Later in the day, after we had eaten our turkey wraps for lunch, we were treated to some outstanding entertainment. It is Memorial Day weekend, which, when I was a boy, was called Decoration Day. A day we went to the school building and heard a memorial service. Afterwards there was always a parade to the local cemetery. First came the flag bearers, followed by the honor guard. Then came the members of of the Foreign Legion, the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the Boy Scouts and the Cub Scouts in that order. It meant something to me, first as a Cub Scout and later as a Boy Scout, to march in that parade, to hear the guns fired in salute at the local cemetery. It's sad, what this day of remembrance has become. A three day weekend to party in preparation for the summer. Sometimes the old way is actually the better way.
So what was this entertainment I was referring to before I wandered in my thoughts? It was watching people. People in pickup trucks, towing their travel trailers and attempting to park in the campground for the first time this year. The sight we were treated to was worth the cost of camping for the weekend. Three travel trailers, all bearing the brand name, Salem, pulled by pickups with drivers that, putting it kindly, had difficulties parking. At around 1 o'clock the first trailer showed up. Clad in Gucci type shoes, dress pants and shirt, the driver pulled in with his wife, a somewhat overweight middle aged blond. Then the fun began.
The backing process, with the wife standing at the back of the trailer giving directions (though we were never were able to figure out what directions she was trying to give) was accompanied with a number of stops where the Gucci shod river got out of the truck, apparently to ascertain the situation. Each time he got out of the truck, there were heated discussions regarding his inability to follow her instructions and her propensity to stand in the exact spot that placed her between a tree and his point of vision. Having finally gotten the trailer backed up into the site, they pulled up and backed up, three, six, maybe nine times before it appeared that the optimal orientation of truck and trailer had been attained. We weren't sure as to why all the micro maneuvering was taking place, as it appeared to us the real problem was that one side of the trailer was much lower than the other, smile. Finally they got it in just the perfect spot, and with a great deal of clattering and banging it was unhitched from the truck, the tongue jack resting on cement block.
It was at this point that Linda noticed the trailer wheels were not blocked. It was only moments later that a loud noise and a yell got our attention once more. The obvious had happened. The trailer, which had not been blocked, had rolled backwards, burying the jack in the wet dirt. Shortly thereafter a cell phone appeared in the man's hand just about the same time his wife seemed to disappear. Sometime later the trailer was once again hitched to the truck and leveling blocks were placed behind the trailer wheels. The trailer was backed up and suddenly the orange blocks appeared in front of the wheels. Some yelling took place and the wife reappeared from the other side of the trailer, standing stiffly, arms folded across her ample bosom. The trailer moved forward and this time stopped directly on top of the bright orange leveling blocks. We heard the same sounds as before and watched the same scene unfold. It was as if a video of the first attempt was being rerun, replete with the trailer again rolling off the orange blocks and the wife disappearing, lol. The cell phone now seemed to become permanently attached to the man's ear. I marveled at how he was able to do everything once again, virtually one handed, smile.
About this time a second trailer, the identical model to one beside us, stopped two campsites over. This site had a very shallow angle off the road, making it very easy to back into. The blond woman we had seen trying to direct the trailer beside us soon appeared and hugs were exchanged between her and the newcomers who we took to possibly be her parents. Now began a scene reminiscent of the one we had watched in the site beside us. We could only see the road and front of the site from the coach, but that was enough, smile. With the same ability she had so aptly demonstrated earlier, she began once again to give directions during the backing process. We watched the truck back up, then pull forward and back again, over and over. Unfortunately, they still weren't off the campground road. What they were, was too close to the entrance to the site to make the turn. Finally the truck pulled forward quite a ways and started back.
The only problem now was that he was on the far side of the road. After several more maneuvers to align the trailer with the site, the truck ended up partly in the dirt and grass on the far side of the road. He backed up one more time, then for some inexplicable reason pulled forward . This put the trailer across the campground road, completely blocking it, and the truck in the grass and dirt across the road from their site. At least they were finally aligned to back straight into their site. But still there was a problem. Not a small problem, but rather, a large problem. Due to the slight slope they now found themselves on, their truck had no traction when they tried to back up. Fortunately there was no one in the campsites in front of them, so they went a little cross country drive, through that campsite and then down the road. A little while later they reappeared and proving that practice makes perfect, backed right into the site on the first try.
Several hours later a third trailer of the same type appeared and tried to to back into the spot between the first two trailers. This fellow I felt sorry for. The other to spots were wide open, very easy to back into. This site was at a 90 degree angle to the road and was flanked by two trees near the entrance. It wasn't long before the whir of spinning tires announced he too was in the grass and dirt across the road from the site. After also taking the cross country route back onto the road, he was gone for quite a long time before later reappearing on the road in front of the site. This time he began backing right into the site. We would hear the engine roar and see the truck and trailer move backwards. Then one or two loud cracks would be heard over the noise of the engine, followed almost immediately by a loud yell. The driver would emerge from the cab, a survey would be taken, and the scene repeated once again. Finally the trailer was parked and about a half hour later all three trucks drove out. They were still gone when we went to bed. Maybe they were out celebrating their adventure in parking, lol. Looks like there could be some real interesting entertainment around the campground this weekend.
Later in the evening, Linda's niece, Susan, arrived at the campground pulling her pop up. It was fun helping her set it up. Cranking up the top, setting the jacks under the corners and watching her drop the door and attach it. It brought back memories of the days back in the late 70's when we had our Jayco Swift pop up. It had the ability to sleep 7 and also had a cook top that could be used either inside or out. Once again, memories. Before calling it a day we had chocolate chip ice cream. Is life good or what.
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May 25 A day of history for Linda and a day of photography for me. Yesterday, shortly after our arrival, we put up a bird feeder filled with the seed and sunflower mix. We were not sure if any birds would come, but since we would be here for several days, why not try. Wasn't long until the first Starling showed up, and a little later several more. The small feeder we had first bought in North Carolina had foiled the larger birds. Now, the tiny perch proved no obstacle to these Ohio decimators of all things edible. Almost before we knew it, the contents of the feeder were scattered among the leaves and patches of grass below it. The black bodies of the starlings dotting the ground, the green sheen of the heads providing a tantalizing hint of beauty. I remember as a boy, growing up in northeastern Ohio, how the Starlings would roost in the canopy of the gigantic maple tree that grew in the ravine beside our house. The early evening air filled with their piercing calls. Dozens and dozens of them coming to settle for the night.
It was only years later that I realized there was more to this little scene than met the eye. That maple tree and the one like it that grew in the other ravine on the opposite side of the house, were "old growth" maples. Their massive trunks and vast spreading limbs unlike any other trees that I could remember. The kind of trees that covered Ohio before the settlers arrived from the east in the late 1700's and very early 1800's. A forest of trees that birds by the millions would roost in at night. I remembered reading stories of the passenger pigeon whose flocks would blacken the sky. A bird that was hunted to extinction to provide food for man's table. Memories and thoughts triggered by a handful of birds under a feeder. The connections of life. One of the reasons we travel. So much to see, so much to experience.
Breakfast was slightly different this morning. We still had oatmeal, strawberries, walnuts and cinnamon, but there was an additional ingedient, steel cut oats. Yesterday, between checking in and the search for enough extensions cords to connect to the distant electrical box, Linda had struck up a bond with the lady who ran the campground office. One thing led to another and some time later Linda had the directions to the local bulk food store and a small baggie of steel cut oats. The lady had a great deal of success in lowering her cholesterol by eating steel cut oats and she was a true disciple of healthy eating. This morning Linda substituted some of the steel cut oats for our regalar oatmeal, using 3/4 cup thick oatmeal and 1/4 cup steel cut oats. This resulted in a somewhat soupier bowl, probably because the steel cut oats don't absorb liquid as readily as the oatmeal. Linda described the oatmeal as chewier than usual, with a nuttier flavor. All because of a chance encounter with another person. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.
Soon, Charles, Betty Lou and Katerine
came by
and the five of us were off hunting houses and
cemeteries. As we left
the campground the whine of leaf blowers filled the air. The first big
weekend of camping is in the air. Down the hill a mower speeds through
the grass, a sea of dark green before it, a swath of lighter green
trailing in its wake. Its passage marked as if a ship had sailed
through an ocean.
We visited the sites of the various houses they had lived in growing up. The houses where their grandparents had lived and the cemeteries where their ancestors were buried. One of the more interesting places was seeing the remains of the old country store that was just down the road from where Linda's grandparents had lived and her father had been born. A store that her grandparents traded at. A store, her father as a little boy would have walked down to. If only walls could talk, then what would this country Walmart of its day, say.
Then down the road a ways further was also the small country church that Linda's mother had spoken of so often. Now also boarded up and abondened. Is this the same fate that awaits the little country church across from the campground we called home for two months in North Carolina? This was the church her mother had attended with her brothers and sisters and parents. As she gazed on the little white church she tried to imagine her mother as a little girl. Where did they sit? Did her mother run around playing after Sunday School? What songs did they sing, did they have an organ or a piano? What friends did she have? Unanswerable questions. Why do we wait until after the older generation is gone to ask these questions.
The next stop was in the town of Albany. A town that was in decline over 90 years ago. A town that has been connected with several different branches of Linda's family over the past 200 years. Right on the corner of the main interection in town are two vacant lots. The one on the southwest corner has a set of steps remaining that lead from a brick side walk to nowhere. Across the street, on the northwest corner is a historical marker in front of a grass covered lot that recounts Albany's past. As the three siblings stood in the grass I took their picture. The spot where they were standing had once been a store. Not just any store, but the store right on the corner in downtown Albany. In the 1840's their great-great grandfather had operated a mercantile store on this very spot. What thoughts were coursing through their minds at this moment. How did each react to this spot. Afterward, talking with Linda and her sister, they remarked how they had transported back to that time, trying to imagine the sights sounds and smells of the day.
Next it was a stop at the school they had all graduated from.
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May 24 The Appalachian farm girl was going home this morning. The southeastern Ohio hills covered with green woods, the rich bottom land dotted with little patches of farm fields, all of it bisected and connected by twisting roads, the land where she was born, was calling her. John Denver got the true essence of this land in his song, Country Roads. While he sings about West Virginia in his song, the only difference between the land he sings about and the land we are heading toward is man's artificial division, naming one area West Virginia and another Ohio. This rugged, but beautiful area bisected by the Ohio River, is the same land with different names. A place where hollow, run and ridge is used just as street and avenue are used elsewhere. Where underground coal mine fires still burn more than a hundred years after they started during the violence that beset the coal industry in the late 1800's. Where places and cemeteries carried the same name as your surname because that was where your family settled almost 200 years ago. Today she was returning home.
We headed east, away from Chillicothe, on US-50. There is a
section
of US-50 in Nevada that is called the loneliest road in America.
This
section, passing through Vinton County, the poorest county in Ohio, may
be the poorest road in America. Our destination for today and
abode
for
the next week would be Lake Snowden campground in Albany, Ohio. 
The
passing of hills and valleys marked the miles and shortly after 1
o'clock we arrived at the campground. We had made our reservation some
months ago since this was going to be a holiday weekend. The campsite
we got was termed "kind of long and you may have trouble reaching the
electric hookup." They were sure right. Our site was deep in the woods,
so to speak. In fact you could have parked two coaches like
ours on the
site and still had room for more vehiles. As we were leaving the
registration area, the host stopped by and said he sure hoped we could
get into the site as we were driving the tallest motor home he'd ever
seen. We had noticed a tendency towards more travel trailers and pop
ups the last few days. Out west most people have either a motor home or
a 5th wheel. Back here, travel trailers and pop ups seem to
predominate.
Undeterred, we drove towards our site, stopping first to empty our tanks at the dump station. The first thing we noticed was how sharp the road arced around the dump station. Sort of like a dump station on a smaller scale, smile. Linda was concerned we would hit the railroad ties that defined it on the way out, but after dumping the tanks the no mess way using the Sani-Con, we pulled out with room to spare, not much, but at least we didn't hit anything. They also had used part of the dump station road to park the garbage dumpster, making the turn even tighter.
We drove over a very dusty road and turned into the loop where
our
site was located. It first traversed a parking lot, then tuned sharply,
becoming what seemed like a narrow pathway through the forest. Arriving
at
our site we concurred with the
campground host about the
low
tree branches. We checked out the site, decided it was doable and
proceeded to unhitch the Explorer. After realizing how dusty it had
gotten on the drive in, it would have been better to have unhooked at
the registration area and driven in separately. Except for a near
altercation with the water hydrant on the far side of the road and a
number of small branches that hung down in the way, we were soon backed
into the site. We backed as far as we could and stopped. This
meant we were still at least 75 feet from the electrical hookup, lol.
We finally got electric to the coach, with a combination of extension
cords. To say I have been less than pleased with the two campgrounds we
have stayed at in Ohio would be a colossal understatement.
Later we took a drive and visited the cemetery where Linda's parents are buried. It is always so interesting, walking through cemeteries and and reading the gravestones. There was one stone that particularly caught my eye, the stone of a lady who was obviously an optimist.
Dinner was in keeping with the tenor of this so called campground. Linda had decided to slice the special whole wheat buns we had recently boughten into three pieces. The only problem was she did it so two of the pieces were thicker and one was thin. Since we always toast the buns on the grill, we ended up with one quite burned slice of bun and two somewhat burned slices. Had they been cut in two, they would have toasted up perfectly. Also the chicken patties she had bought were breaded and tasted like garbage. Our southwestern beans are made from red kidney beans, but not tonight. Tonight she used black beans. Suffice it to say neither one of us particularly cared for the end result. Then to top off this meal from the devils domain, as I was finishing the last of my meal, my plate feel into my lap. Crumbs of burnt bun flew everywhere. Very carefully I swung around on my chair while Linda held the wastepaper basket in front of me. We brushed off the crumbs as best we could, more tiny pieces of blacked bun scattering across the floor. Linda got out our shark vacuum and got almost all the debris picked up. At last supper was over and we could relax, watch some TV, upload the web page and surf the internet.
However, our day from you know where was not going to go away smiling. Oh no, to complete the day, it turned out we are so deep in the trees that there is no way the MotoSat can even begin to find a signal, so no internet and also no DirecTV. Because of all of the trees, I can't even set up the portable dish to receive DirecTV. To say I am not happy with this campground wouldn't even begin to tell how I feel. We will have to resort to taking the laptop in town and see if we can find a wireless connection in order to check email and upload the website. If you don't hear from us for a few days, you'll know why, grrrr. At least there is always dessert and our chocolate ice cream was one of the few things that went right today, smile.
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May 23 Time to move on. Today. But first came a startling revelation. Linda sadly announced we would be eating like paupers this morning. That woman had let us run out of, not only fruit, but also milk. Seems like, even though she knew the situation had entered the critical mode yesterday, she ignored all the warning signs. This morning it was time to pay the piper as they say. I was cool about it. After all, she knew she had erred and besides that, I've got to live with her, lol. Turned out that old fashioned, thick rolled oats cooked with powdered milk and served just like that, actually taste pretty darn good, especially when you are hungry, smile.
Most of the morning was spent on getting further caught up on the website and allowing the sisters time to be together. I know leaving is always a hard time for Linda, so I try to be as considerate as possible. Talking about being considerate, as it neared the time to leave she came out said she and Katherine were going to do a little shopping. Turns out, they went up to the market and got milk and fresh strawberries. What a pleasant surprise and she did it all on her own, most likely because I had never once commented about the lack of milk or fruit this morning. Now if I could just learn something from this lesson - the worth of keeping my mouth shut - life would be so much better, smile. Reality did intrude for a few moments when I was called to get my hair cut. As always, Linda did a superb job, meaning I will look perfect to accompany my lady this weekend. Of course, the fact she had a quality control inspector checking each cut she made also helped, lol.
Just before it was time to pull out, Katherine's neighbor down the street, Jon, came over to say goodbye and also to help us pull out onto the street by stopping traffic, if needed. That's what makes small town America so special, special people like Jon. We drove separately down to the Jubilee Market and hooked up the Explorer, ready to head East.
There are several roads that we could take to get to our destination tonight and something that happened thousands of years ago play a major part in the selection of the route we took. The area we would be crossing was the southern terminus on the glaciers which covered North American during the last ice age. The direct route from Carlisle to Chillicothe would mean first driving on Ohio Route 73. If you like riding on a roller coaster then this would be the road for you. Just to the north, US-35 traverses flat countryside. The difference is the land under US-35 was flattened and smoothed by the glacier as it ground southward, pulverizing and pushing everything in its path. The land under Rt-73 was where the glacier was stopping. The land here is more in the form of giant ripples, undulating for miles and miles. Though it was a little out of our way, US-35 was a much better road to drive and so that was the route we took.
When we were out west, everything was far apart. Here in Ohio, everything is close together. First the bypass around Xenia, a town which has been destroyed by tornado's, not once, but twice. Many years ago we had driven through Xenia shortly after it had been hit by one of those tornado's and the devastation was unbelievable. Today, the bypass speeds traffic around the town with never a hint of what happened in the past. Next we also bypassed Washington Courthouse. Some 25 years ago this town used to host a great antique show where we shopped for furniture in the rough and other "must have", smile, items from the past. Those days are now long gone and only a shell of the former show remains.
Finally we were nearing Chillicothe, our destination for the night. Our GPS was bound and determined to run us all over back country roads to get to the campground, so Linda took over the navigating duties. We exited US-35 and drove on County Road 550 for a couple of miles. Where Biers Run Road intersected with CR-550, there appeared to be a one room schoolhouse that had been converted into a house. The old brick high roofed building with a large front door, high narrow regularly spaced windows on the side and its location near a country intersection all pointed toward its probable former life as a school building. Memories flooded my mind. The stories I had heard as a little boy. Tales of a teacher at a small one room school and the marvelous affect she had on the lives of her students. My grandmother, she died young, several years before I was born, but at this moment she was reaching out to me, letting me know she was proud of the things I had done in my life.
We had checked for campgrounds in the area and selected Sun Valley Campground which was close by. I'll keep it simple and say we would never again stay at this place. The photo below shows where their emphasis is.
Other than our experience at the campground, our stay in Chillicothe was fabulous. We were there to visit with some old friends, Doug and Betty, that we had kept in touch with during both our and their moves from state to state. It used to be that our kids played together, but we now talked about grandchildren. Isn't it great how you can visit with someone you haven't seen for years and take up right where you left off, smile. I have to laugh at myself because while Linda's first thought was of visiting and learning what had happened in the past few years, I confess, I thought of food. You see, Betty is probably the best cook by far, that we have ever had the privilege of knowing. The only other person even in her league is our daughter, Jennifer. I don't know how many times over the years I've asked Linda where she had found the recipe for some fabulous dish she had just fixed, and she answered, it was one of Betty's. I don't know whether Betty creates the dishes herself or picks the best from other people, but either way, she is one awesome cook. I've often wondered if she has ever entered any cooking competitions over the years. She'd be as close to a sure bet to win as the only horse in a one horse race.
Besides the wonderful visit we had with them, reminiscing about church, family and friends, Betty also cooked dinner, smile. Lemon Turkey Tenderloins (to die for), baked asparagus, sweet onion (Vidalia) pie and tossed greens finished off with coffee, tea and accompanied with a mixed berry pie topped with ice cream. I simply luxuriated in the panoply of tastes and textures. Simply said, that woman is one awesome cook. Doug, you sure picked a good one, lol. It seemed that almost before we knew it, over 5 hours had literally flow by and it was time to leave. Saying goodbye for another, but surely not the last time, we returned to our home on wheels thankful for the opportunity we have been given to know people like Doug and Betty during our lives.
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May 22 Sometimes things just go to the dogs. Take for example,
carrots. One of Katherine's dogs is an Affenpinscher, who just
loves
carrots. "Eddy" looks like a shaggy mop of hair (the dog in
the movie, "As Good as it Gets", was an Affenpinscher) who
does things his way. This morning was carrot time. Watching Eddy
proudly display that carrot got me
to thinking about how I approach life. Every time I post a journal
entry, I update the newsflash entry on the menu page. Each time the
little comment about the lack of entries for April 29 & 30
stares back at me.
Sometimes I have good intentions and change the wording
slightly to reflect my optimistic outlook. Sometimes I have actually
written a
little bit. Once, even going so far as posting the few paragraphs I had
completed to the website. Linda suggested I just drop it and not post
anything for those dates. That was not what I wanted to do. So why
didn't I just write something and post it? I'm the only one who can
answer that question and the answer is, I simply don't know the answer,
smile. After what has been weeks, this morning was the day to write.
It was only for the 29th of April, so the 30th remains to be written,
someday, smile. Why, I don't know why, but today was the day to write.
After Linda read my scribblings, she asked me
how I remembered all those things. I dunno, maybe suppressed memory
syndrome, lol. If you'd like to read it here's
the link. Use your back button to return to
this page.
Of course, preceding all these literary endeavors was the need for food. I must report we have reached a critical juncture in our life. Though we have lots of oatmeal, the fruit and milk situation reached critical this morning. We sliced the last peach, meaning we have no more fruit left in the house. No dried fruit, no canned fruit, no frozen fruit and not even any fresh fruit. To further compound this calamitous condition, I was also informed the milk used to cook our oatmeal was a blend of our normal milk to which powdered milk had been added to have enough for the meal. Obviously, the quality of help in this household is extremely poor, lol. Of course this information was passed on to me in casual conversation after I had eaten my oatmeal. Fortunately our day will include a stop at the store to purchase milk and fruit, so all will be well for tomorrow morning.
The route we take from Carlisle to Franklin passes by some positively gorgeous, restored victorian era houses. Here are a couple of photos I took out the window as we drove by.
We spent the afternoon visiting the Boonshoft Museum of
Discovery Planetarium in Dayton. Even though I read 365 Starry Nights 
every
evening, it has been years since I was last in a Planetarium. Seems
they have this fabulous computerized "star ball" that projects the
image
on the dome. While all the special effects were awesome, including the
roller coaster ride (gotta show off what these nifty new computer
thingys can do, smile), the actual projection of the night sky was
faint and blurry. During the program I wasn't sure whether it was the
projection system or my glasses. After the show we all commented how
fuzzy and indistinct the stars and planets were. Then again, maybe we
were just three old folks with failing eyes, lol. Later, I did a
little web surfing to see if I could find out if it was the computer
system or our eyes that were the problem. Of course I could have asked
our narrator after the show, but just wasn't thinking about it then,
smile. From what little I read, unless the computer system is really
good, the stars aren't as bright and distinct as with the old
electro-mechanical devices. But it does allow for
entertaining shows that appeal to the current generation. As seems to
happen more and more with these things,
there is more emphasis on the razzle-dazzle than the substance. Gotta
keep the kids attention, you know, doesn't matter if you fill their
heads with mindless blather.
Linda was in 7th heaven however. You see, as we exited the museum building she spied a number of large rocks which were part of the landscaping. Turns out these weren't just any ordinary old rocks, these were labeled specimens of the different types of rock commonly found in Ohio. The one below really caught her eye, but since I declined to carry it over to the car, she had leave it, smile.
One of the things we had really enjoyed, was using the metal
detector
to
search in 
Katherine's
back yard. Linda
placed all our finds on a towel and took a picture. You'll note there
were no gold rings or diamond necklaces, but the sheer fun of
searching more than made up for the lack of buried treasure,
though we did unearth some interesting pieces as the photos below show.
There was a metal toothpaste tube, old aluminum pull tabs, square
nails, a piece of lead sheet, a cast metal (non magnetic) toy soldier
and a brass or bronze plate from the New York Central RR (if anyone
knows what this plate was used for, drop us an email), two pennies
and
a nickel and a million bucks worth of fun. You know the old story about
how someone
enjoys a place so much they bought it. Well we did too. Bought the
metal detector that is, lol. As with everything there is more than
meets the eye. Seems Katherine bought the detector to find a ring she
had lost in the back yard. Miracle of miracles, she found the ring
too!!! But as with most things, there is more to the story, smile.
Doing some cleaning in her bedroom the morning she was going to start
searching the backyard, she
heard a tinkling sound. Looking on the wood floor see saw the ring. The
metal detector had served its purpose, so she no longer needed it.
I wonder if we will have as much luck finding rings with it as she did,
lol.
The bells of the church chimed out the 5 o'clock songs and I wondered back over to the churchyard. As they rang out the hymns I knew so well, I wondered through the adjacent cemetery and chanced upon a tombstone that drew me back to the summer of 1864 when a family grieved over the death of a 17 year old girl. Worn with age and hard to read, I made out the words, "Here sleeps our darling Rebecca E." To never know the story behind those words, I stood as the bells chimed on and the day drew to a close, lost in thought of days long ago.
Since we would be leaving tomorrow the ladies decided to paint the town red tonight. No not that way, lol. When you're as old as those two it's, it's -- it's best I not say anything more, lol, lol. What was red was the color of the meal. Everything on the plate was either red or orange. Everything on the plate also tasted fabulous. There was grilled salmon and sweet potatoes accompanied by a carrot salad and sliced tomatoes. Later there was dessert, of course, after all, someone had to eat the last of Katherine's date nut bread, lol.
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May 21 Something different today. Right across the River from
Carlisle is Franklin, Ohio, home of Eric Henn. Who is Eric Henn you 
say? It's not so much who he
is, it's what he does. And what he does is transformation and
teleportation. Not through magic, not through gizmos and wires, rather
through paint. Look at the scene to the right. The entrance
into a park where everyone is from another time and place. It
is Franklin alright, but the Franklin of 1906, not 2006.
What you are looking at is a mural painted on the side of a building. In this case it is the Huntington Bank Building in Franklin. From across the street where this picture was taken, it looks so real, you expect the people to move.
Here is another building in Franklin. Note the pretty lady standing next to the Model T.
And here is the same photo taken from further away.
Our next stop was something familiar, Trader Joe's a very necessary stop to replenish supplies before moving on. We sure were glad we had shopped at Jungle Jim's yesterday and saved a bunch of money on what we bought. That gave us more money to spend at Trader Joe's today, lol. And spend it she did. Of course the case of two buck chuck merlot that found it's way into the cart also added to the total. Two buck chuck is $3.39 in Ohio. Seems Ohio has some real peculiar laws about the pricing of adult beverages. By law, the distributor has to mark it up 50% from the manufacturer and then the retailer has to mark it up 33% from the distributor. Of course that begs the question, with a mandated markup like that, why isn't everyone in the adult beverage distribution business? When I think politicians, monopolies and mandates only one answer comes to mind, lol. Distilling (how's that for a pun) my answer down to a simple phrase, vote the bums out. Sometime I'm going to have to write about the time I wrote in Daffy Duck as my vote for a County Commissioner. (Later, during his term in office, the Commissioner was indicted, tried, convicted and sent to prison).
Note the two attractive models posing in front of the Kettering, Ohio Trader Joe's store. A great place to shop if you are nearby.
Next we off to visit Linda's niece and her family. What a great time we had visiting and what a neat family they are. The fact they were in the midst of a major kitchen remodel never phased them. A persons lot in life depends to a great degree on how they view life. The grill provided bar-b-que pork and corn and tales of their camping adventures filled the air with laughter. What is it about family that transcends the ordinary and lifts the heart?
How did Susan and Tim know pork is our favorite bar-b-qued meat?
There's always a family picture and there's always someone who closes their eyes, lol.
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May 20 Another beautiful morning in southwestern Ohio. We are
in the small town of Carlisle where many of the houses date from
the
late 1800's and early 1900's. Nearby is the New
Jersey Presbyterian Church,
a beautiful old brick church whose bell tower puts on a magnificent
performance twice each day that is worth stopping for. The church was
founded in 1813
when Carlisle was known as Jersey Settlement and sits just north of
"the"
traffic light. Yes, it is a one traffic light town, smile.
The
bells play twice a day, at noon and 5 o'clock and ring for about 15
minutes each time. Earlier this month we
enjoyed the beauty and sound of the carillon bells at Valparaiso
University. Now on a different scale we are enjoying the bells at a old
red
brick church in a small town in an area that, while changed
to a degree, still reflects its Midwestern roots and history.
Some things hardly ever change, like our oatmeal for
breakfast. So it may come as a surprise that we strayed from the norm
today. Not at breakfast, but rather, at lunch. I know it is hard to
believe, but today Linda did not fix turkey wraps. The fault dear
Reader, is not in our stars, but within that woman (apologies to Mr
Shakespeare, smile). First off, she allowed us to run out of
turkey, requiring a package of frozen sliced ham to be
procured yesterday from the depths of our freezer. This was secretively
placed
in the refrigerator to be ready for todays noon meal. Upon readying
herself to prepare what would definitely be a less than stellar repast
for the noon
meal, she discovered she had also allowed us to run out of whole wheat
wraps. While the lack of one ingredient may have been forgivable,
running out of two ingredients at the same time translated into an
unpardonable offense.
Incensed, but unable to correct this intolerable situation ,I struggled
to
retain my cool collective calm demeanor when the 
following was place before
me.
Note that in addition to the lack of turkey and wrap, the cabbage is also missing. Oh horror of horrors, what did I ever do to allow such inequities to be visited upon me, smile. Not being a King of Old, I could not declare, "Off with her head", or some similar degree of punishment for the bedeviling behavior she had exhibited.
As if to throw a bone to a poor dog, she had gotten out the last of our Trader Joe's pita chips to place on the plate. Obviously she knew she had definitely done wrong, smile, and was doing her best to mollify her aggrieved husband. Realizing I now had the upper hand but understanding if I utilized it my life would dissolve before me, I chose to eat in silence, commenting about how good the pita chips tasted. You can't say I haven't learned something after being married to this woman for almost forty years, lol.
After lunch it was time to beautify the beast. In preparation
for the
fortieth High School reunion
of the royal goddess, she
required
a 'doo', as in hair doo. This was not some spur of the moment thing, no
siree, this was a methodical well thought out plan of personal
enhancement. You she, her niece, Lori, is a professional beautician who
owns her our hair salon. It had been determined Lori would add the
final crowning touches to Linda's coiffure and while I waited outside
the
shop, studying the feeding habits of robins, Linda was made
perfect.
The mysterious ways of women. They are far to deep for a mere mortal like man to even begin to comprehend their ways, isn't it fun trying. Recalling the last time she had her hair done, as she refers to this process, I was as nervous as a cat. This time it was much easier, but I must admit to a tinge of nervousness as I awaited the results. I was not disappointed as the smile on her face told just how pleased she was. Of course, rather than think of the stress having this hair thing done by Lori had saved me from, I was already thinking of the next time I would again be on the hot seat to do the do just right, lol.
Trimmed, tinted and ready to make her grand entrance in several weeks, we traveled down I-75 to the most unique grocery store we have ever had the experience to shop at. Jungle Jim's is literally the store with more. Located on Dixie Hwy in Fairfield, Ohio, this is one of those stores that truly has to be experienced to be believed. I got so engrossed in looking at all the "things" they had in this shopping and entertainment extravaganza, that I only took a few pictures. If you don't like choices, this is definitely not the store for you. I wish I had counted the number of different types of butter they carry. And cheeses, they have more cheeses than you can imagine, let alone try to eat. How about a separate store within the store for the foods from different countries. None of this begins to describe this store. If anyone has been there you know what I'm trying to convey, if you haven't and you get the opportunity, you gotta stop. Just another day in the adventure we live.
Here is the section of foods from England. The magical enchantment of Sherwood Forrest hangs suspended over the aisles (pun intended, smile), with row on row of foods, British.
We have seen many parts of the pig sold in stores as journeyed across the south, but Jungle Jim's definitely out does them all. I'm not quite sure just exactly how you prepare this delicacy, but it's also something I won't have to worry about. Not only would Linda never allow it in the RV, even if she did it would never fit in either the oven or the grill, lol. If your tastes run to the less exotic, you can buy elk, alligator, ostrich, kangaroo and other meats that may be more likely to appeal to your palate.
Does your corner market have a theater. One that shows a movie
about the store?
Jungle Jim's does. Not bad for a kid fresh out of college in
1972 who had a big dream
and started with a seasonal roadside vegetable stand.
Waterfalls, a gorilla and a satisfied shopper. Kroger or Safeway it ain't, smile.
As you can see, good time was had by all.
Returning to Katherine's, we took time out to play in the
backyard.
This is an old house,
Katherine has a metal detector, so Bob
& Linda searched for "stuff". We never realized just how much
fun doing something like
this was. While we didn't discover any buried treasure, we did have a
good time.
One other enjoyable event during our time at Katherine's was being able to visit with one of the readers of our daily journal. Jon lives nearby and has dreams of someday enjoying the same lifestyle we do. He stopped by the other night, toured the coach and talked about how much he enjoys reading a number of the journals, blogs and websites that deal with life on the road. It was fun listening to him describe his life and his dreams. Took us back to the not too distant past when we were doing the same thing. To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on.
Dinner was a night out at the local Pizza Parlor with Jean and Andy who are friends of Katherine. It had been a long time since we had some white sauce pizza and we both managed to make pigs of ourselves. Ok, I made a pig of myself, but I did notice when we got down to one piece of pizza left on the tray, it was Linda who grabbed it, lol.
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May 19 A day to relax, a day for adventure. Linda's sister, Katherine, has three dogs and we, being the newest thing in town, were the object of much affection. How many times can a dog retrieve a ball? As many times as you can throw it. If you do it right, you can get some much needed exercise, smile.
After our usual oatmeal breakfast, Linda visited and I worked on the daily journal. Then it was time to go exploring. One of Linda's pleasures is looking for rocks and fossils. Fortunately, located nearby, is Hueston Woods State Park, where fossils are very abundant and collecting is allowed. After a drive through the glorious late spring Ohio countryside, we arrived at the park where we were soon engaged in picking, poking and looking for fossils.
We probably weren't looking in one of the prime areas, but it didn't really matter. Linda just wanted to find something. We looked along the creek below the dam near the park road. There are fossils in almost every rock along the creek bank. All the fossils are from the late Ordovician period (440 million years ago) when one of the great mass extinctions took place.
This rock had just a few fossils showing, then I turned it
over, note the discoloration from the dirt.
To give you an idea of scale, it was about the size of my hand, to big
to be a "keeper."
As Linda says, she doesn't really know anything about rocks or fossils, but she does know that she really, really likes them. Over the past forty years I have probably carried several tons of rocks for her. It seems like every time we go on a hike she finds a rock that she just has to have, lol. This time she was carrying her own rocks. Note the very carefully place pile by her right foot. Observe that the rocks are in contact with her shoe. She does this in case someone would come along and try to take one of them. For years I was under the mistaken impression she did this so she wouldn't walk off and inadvertently leave them. She only had to inform me once that it was to protect them. If you have ever wondered what a mother grizzly bear would be like if you tried to take one of her cubs, just try taking one of Linda's rocks.. On second thought, maybe you should actually try to take a grizzly cub, it would probably be safer than messing with one of Linda's rocks, lol.
Note the rocks securely clutched in her hands in the photo
below.
Notice it is she that is carrying them and not me, smile.
Even the greatest of the great fossil hunters need a break from the constant walking, bending and looking as they attempt to locate that rare, elusive, absolutely perfect specimen. Of course even on a break, they can not help but continue searching the ground, thinking maybe it is right here, under butt, so to speak, smile. Observe that this is not just idle eye time. The clue that gives credence to the fact she is still intently searching is the bag in her right hand, open to receive any treasures she might locate, lol.
Sometimes even the most persistent fossil hunters can overwork themselves, spending too much time in the sun, head down, searching and searching. The eyes start to bulge, the hair begins to fall out clothes go unwashed, becoming mere tatters. Before long their appearance changes and this is all that is left, lol.
Our adventure over, we returned home. For Linda this meant more visiting, while I spent time updating the journal. It soon became obvious that I needed help in order to get caught up on the journals. As you can see, before long I had all the help I needed, lol. As I was soon to learn, the quicker I was done working at that computer, the sooner I could go back to throwing the ball, lol. Notice how Linda is intently watching, not watching the dog or I, rather guarding all the collected fossils laying on the towel drying after being lovingly washed.
As always, our day ended with dessert, tonight we had a delicious date nut bread that Katherine made, using Splenda, just for us. Do we ever live good or what, smile.
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May 18 A day of change as we leave Kentucky and travel north to Ohio. For the next month the focus of our adventure will be shaped by our origins. Everyone comes from somewhere and for us it was Ohio. Replete with relatives, family history and childhood friends, we look forward to the next month of slow gentle wandering interspersed with joyous reunions and renewed acquaintances. This is just another small part of what this lifestyle we live allows us to do.
I had to laugh at Linda as we prepared to leave the Horse
Park.
A 5th wheel had
parked next to
us while we were visiting our
friends yesterday and now it was Linda's chance to check it
out. Our
adventure is always full of new and different sights and this one
certainly got her attention this morning. I joke about her being a
snoop, while she classifies herself as an astute observer of human
activity. Of course, she's right, but it still leads to a lot of fun as
I tease her about it, smile. The thing of beauty about how she observes
others,
is her ability to continue on with the task at hand while devoting most
of her attention to the scene she is observing. Note the head turned to
the left in the photo below, while the hands are poised to put the sock
on the foot, lol. While the totality of the unfolding scene was being
observed and absorbed, the sock was placed in perfect orientation on
the foot without even so much as the briefest glance away from the
window.
Where do women pick up these skills? Heck I'm lucky to even
find my sock, let alone get the right sock on the right foot without
ever looking at it, lol.
Using our checklist, we went through the process of preparing to leave. We have learned that if you don't check to see if all the drawers are closed tight, one of them come open as we round a corner. Something new that we have started doing, is placing the Euro-lounger and foot stool off the slide and in the center aisle when we put the roadside slide in or out. It's very easy to do and results in there being that much less weight for the slide motor move each time. Less weight for the slide motor to move, may translate into longer life for the motor, somrthing that would be good, smile.
Slides in, MotoSat stored, and the checklist completed, we pull out and find a level spot to hookup the Explorer. While we don't have a checklist for this task (probably a mistake, smile), we do double check each thing the other person does. I hookup the towbar, safety cables, breakaway cable and lights. And in the exact same order each time. Then check them, after which Linda also checks them. Next the Explorer ignition, shift lever and parking brake, which were placed in the proper position by Linda are checked by her and then again by me. This is followed by pushing the test button on the SMI vacuum box and watching the brake pedal on the Explorer activate. Then Linda watches from the rear of the Explorer as I return to the coach and turn on the tail lights and test the turn signals and the brakes, ending up with pushing the test button on the SMI monitor. We do this in the same order each time and Linda signals me that each operation has been successful. Then I drive forward as Linda checks to make sure the towbar arms lock in place. Sounds a lot more complicated and time consuming than it actually is, taking less than 5 minutes. Now, and only now are we ready to leave.
Thinking about the route we took in hindsight, it begs the question, why did we take the interstate. I guess the reason was because it was the most direct route to where we were going. The Horse Park was only about a mile from I-75, and our destination today, though roughly 100 miles to the north, was less than five miles from the same I-75. Besides I don't relish the idea of navigating through Cincinnati on surface streets and Linda was anxious to see her sister, smile. As we headed north, Linda started up the book on tape we had been listening to during the last few day's drives. We find these books make for an entertaining experience, plus they are so easy to turn off when distractions occur, only to be restarted where we left off at a later time.
A distance north of Lexington, storm clouds appeared on the horizon, rain began falling and the CD was turned off. Intermittent heavy rain accompanied us all the rest of our drive. Many people have apprehensions about driving an RV and may use that as a reason not to embark on their own adventure. I still remember my first few frightened (and that is truly the right word) times behind the wheel of our coach. Then we took the driving lessons. This gave us the knowledge and increased our confidence in our ability to actually drive this "thing" Once we hit hit the road and the miles rolled by, we both became more comfortable driving. As we now drove on I-75 through a heavy rain with trucks on either side of us, a small corner of my brain reflected on how far we had come in our driving ability from those first few miles so many months ago. (The other 99% of my brain was engaged in the process of driving, lol)
Our website says it all, Because-We-Can, that we have the ability to do things, and that if we believe we can do it, we can. That is the very essence of our adventure. Some people RV on weekends and during brief vacations, some are snow birds spending months at just a few locations, some travel the country living in their RV and some RV through the words and images of others. Each is doing it because they can. Some RV on less than a $1000 a month and others live what could be termed a life of luxury, spending $10,000 or more a month and in between the extremes are the great majority of RV'ers, but all of these people are living this life, because they can. It was some 40 years ago I that changed from being a boy and evolved into a man. It happened in Ohio, the state we were minutes away from. How different my life would have been, if when new opportunities arose I had chosen to think I wasn't up to the challenge. We live it because we believe it.
We descended the steep downgrade into Covington and saw the skyline of Cincinnati looming before us.
Crossing the bridge, we looked down and saw the barges that ply the river just as the have since this country was first settled.
Before long we were in small town America, unhooking the Explorer to drive to Linda's sisters house. We were planning to stay in her driveway, but first we needed to reconnoiter the territory, so to speak. After checking it out, I returned in the coach and while the ladies stopped traffic and directed me, we got it positioned perfectly in the driveway. Almost before we knew it, we were set up and the visiting commenced.
As the sisters talked, I glanced out the window and saw the car pictured below stopped at the traffic light in front of the house. There has to be a REAL story associated with that sign, lol.To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on. It is everywhere around us if we will only open our eyes and experience it.
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May 17 Would you believe that, this morning we plan on just horsing a round, lol. Because the first scheduled activity at the Horse Park was at 9:15 and since Linda was bound and determined to see each and every one of these, we were up early. Of course, everything we do has its pleasures and this morning was no exception. The park is home to a great number of birds. Birds, whose presence is known, not by their image, but rather by their song. Never in our months of travel have we ever heard an avian concert that would come close to the one we were now hearing.
The sounds brought to mind Bobby Day's great hit from 1958 that had the following words:
He rocks in the treetops all day long,
Hoppin' and a-boppin' and a-singin' his song.
All the little birds on J-Bird Street,
Love to hear the robin go tweet, tweet, tweet.
Rockin' robin (tweet, tweet, tweet);
Rock, rock, rockin' robin (tweet, tweedle-dee);
Go rockin' robin, we're really gonna rock tonight.
Every little swallow, every chickadee,
Every little bird in the tall oak tree,
The wise old owl, the big black crow,
Flappin' their wings singin' go bird, go.
That was finger snappin' walkin' an' a swaying jive music if there ever was. Heck, my head starts a-boppin' just reading the words, lol.Though the rhythm and beat we were hearing this morning weren't the same, the smile it brought to our faces and the joy we felt listening to this live concert was just as special. Sometimes I simply blurt out to Linda, "I just can't believe we are really doing this." This was one of those moments. The past meets the present in the most unpredictable way. Yesterday I was taken back to the 1800's, then today, to my teenage years. I'm so glad we simply up and did it. You know, I could still be getting up at 4:30 every weekday morning to go to the same old job. Today I'm up at 6:30 to write in the daily journal, which is my choice, then will be off to visit the Kentucky Horse Park. And just think, I'm not on vacation, I don't have to go back to work next week. Life, make sure you live it.
Since the horse park was located right next to the campground, it made for an easy drive. They charge you to park your vehicle at the Horse Park, but will waive the fee if you are staying at the campground, plus the entrance fee is very reasonable. This is the antithesis of those so called attractions, that exist simply to part you from as much of your money as they can. I had read on some of the internet forums about how the Horse Park was an attraction you should not miss, but still I had no idea what it was all about. After spending almost a full day at the Park, I am still a little unclear as to what it is all about. But that is simply because one day is not enough time to take in everything the Park has for you to see and experience. While the Park's website can give you a good overview, it simply can't do justice to the enormity, variety or beauty to be found there. The next time we are back to this area we will most definitely stop again.
The park was an actual horse farm of over 1000 acre's that the State of Kentucky purchased and developed into an educational, entertainment and exhibition extravaganza. I will give you a few highlights of what we saw while there.
There was the draft horse barn with different breeds of work horses from the giant English Shay to the small Haflinger.These horses really had to work, smile. 3 or 4 days a week, several times a day, for about a half hour each time, they had to pull a cart of visitors around the grounds.
The park hosts various equestrian competitions throughout the year. Today they were having hunter/jumper trials for the weekends finals. Some of these shows are quite large with over 1000 horses competing.
This was a small competition, but none the less, never have I seen so many horse trailers in one place.
Another interesting feature is the Hall of Champions where past Champions from different equestrian venues are displayed. These are retired horses that get to live out the last years of their lives in pampered elegance. CH Gypsy Supreme, the Horse of the 1990's Decade, (also voted the Saddlebred and 5 Gaited Horse of the 1990's decade ); Cigar, the Racehorse of the 1990's Decade and winner of 16 consecutive races; and also Western Dreamer, winner of the 1997 Pacing Horse Triple Crown. You may be asking why are these horses here at the park. I know that I was. Why aren't they standing at stud, collecting millions and millions of dollars for their owner's syndicates. Unfortunately for their owners, Gypsy Supreme and Western Dreamer are geldings, while Cigar proved to be infertile. However, without exception these are very beautiful animals and we were glad to be able to see them.
Of course, what would a horse farm be without foals and the Horse Park was no exception. We laughed as this little fellow tried to get a mouthful of grass without success. It seems his front legs were so long he couldn't get head down to the green grass.
Next we went to the Parade of Breeds. Each show is different. The one we saw included the Appaloosa, the Chincoteague and the Welsh Cob among others.
There are also two museums dedicated to the horse on the grounds of the park. We only had time to tour one of them, but found it so fascinating, we could have literally spent an entire day in it. The photo below shows the actual Concord stage that provided stagecoach service between Keene and Spofford, NH. My last boss, Bruce, was a native of Keene, and as I gazed on this coach, I was once again transported back in time, wondering if maybe his grandfather or great grandfather had once ridden in this very coach.To experience the connection of being human. The joy of life. The spirit of individuality. The adventure goes on and on. Past and present intertwined. And to take the adventure back even further, in the late 1700's one branch of my family also lived in Keene, maybe my great, great, great grandfather also rode this very same coach. Small world, getting even smaller, smile.
The past and present intertwine in more was than one. You see, many, many years ago in a state far away we were next door neighbors to the most fascinating couple you would ever want to meet. They had a son who was the same age as our twins and being German citizens, brought a touch of Europe into our lives. For 25 years we have kept in touch and today we would finally be able to visit with them after all these years. What a great time we had. Dorthea picked us up at the campground and we spent the afternoon with with her and their son Stefan, visiting and touring Ashland, the estate of Henry Clay, known as The Great Compromiser. This was a man who has always been one of my "heroes", and I was thrilled to be able to reach back into history and understand a little more about this often misunderstood true American, intellectual giant of a man. And even though this wasn't the actual house he had lived in, this was the ground over which he had walked and the estate he had built and overseen.
When we went to Dorthea's house, her husband, Joachim had returned home from his business trip. Once again we enjoyed the thrill of remaking a long lost connection. Joachim gave us a tour of their home and grounds. And speaking of the ground over which Henry Clay had walked, we found out the house was sitting on land that had once been part of the original Henry Clay Ashland estate. Another connection. Could a lifelong lover of history ask for more? I don't think so, smile.