From A to Z in KY

The plan today was to 1) visit the Zappos shoe outlet store, 2) check out Abraham Lincoln's birthplace, and 3) party. I'll tell you in advance, we were successful on all three counts.

Zappos was founded by Nick Swinmurn in 1999. The initial inspiration came when he couldn’t find a pair of brown Airwalks at his local mall. That same year, Swinmurn approached Tony Hsieh and Alfred Lin with the idea of selling shoes online. Hsieh was initially skeptical, and almost deleted Swinmurn’s voice mail. After Swinmurn mentioned that "footwear in the US is a 40 billion dollar market and 5% of that is already being sold by paper mail order catalogs," Hsieh and Lin decided to invest $2 million through their investment firm Venture Frogs. The company was officially launched in June 1999, under the original domain name "ShoeSite.com."

The big online shoe started with their fulfillment center 20 miles south of Louisville right here Shepherdsville where we're camping. Their outlet is the biggest thing in Shepherdsville and the mecca for folks into shoes.

Shortly before lunch we met up with Nikki and Cory at the mega store. It's about the size of a Wal*Mart and filled with shoes that were apparently returned by their online customers. In my estimation 90% of the store is dedicated to women's shoes and the rest to men's shoes. There was a steady stream of customers perusing the aisles and aisles of five high racks of miscellaneous shoes, mostly arranged in size order. Everything from thongs (the shoe type!) through slippers, pumps, stiletto heels, to boots. All manufacturers you've heard of and some you haven't.

Nikki does have a affinity for shoes and was able to find several pairs she just had to add to her collection, including a pair for her wedding. Most of these shoes were about half of the retail cost. Cory even found a pair of sneakers. Marianne also found something. But I couldn't convince myself to purchase the pair of blue suede loafers I found that fit my big feet.

On July 22, 2009, Amazon announced that it would buy Zappos. The deal was eventually closed in November 2009 for a reported $1.2 billion. On June 22, 2012 Zappos announced it would be shedding their Kentucky warehouse on September 1st, 2012 and move to Henderson, NV. Over 3,000 employees in Zappos' Kentucky warehouse will now be in the care of Amazon. This year Zappos will move their headquarters from Henderson, Nevada to the Old Las Vegas City Hall in downtown Las Vegas.

Did you miss out on that investment potential? So did I. From nothing in 1999 to $1.2 billion just ten years later. Why can't we all be that smart?

After stepping out of Zappos (get it?), Marianne and I headed to Abraham Lincoln's birthplace, about 25 miles south of Shepherdsville. If you've been reading this travel blog or my previous one from 2010 when we traveled mostly around the perimeter of the United States, you know that we're interested in seeing presidential homes or libraries. I've come to the conclusion that a birthplace qualifies as a home.

Honest Abe was born February 12, 1809 in a log cabin, the second child of Thomas Lincoln and Nancy Lincoln (née Hanks), in a one-room log cabin on the Sinking Spring Farm in Hardin County, Kentucky (now LaRue County). By the time his son Abraham was born, Thomas owned two 600-acre farms, several town lots, livestock, and horses. He was among the richest men in the county. However, in 1816, Thomas lost all of his land in court cases because of faulty property titles.

The original log cabin that Lincoln was reputed to have been born in was dismantled sometime before 1865. Local tradition held that some of the logs from the cabin were used in construction of a nearby house. New York businessman A.W. Dennett purchased the Lincoln farm in 1894 and used the logs from this house to construct a cabin similar in appearance to the original cabin where Lincoln was born. Soon the cabin was dismantled and re-erected for exhibition in many cities. Eventually the logs for this cabin, along with logs reputed to have belonged to Jefferson Davis' birthplace and possibly a third cabin, were purchased by the Lincoln Farm Association (LFA), which believed they had acquired only Lincoln logs. When workers tried to reconstruct the cabin, they discovered the problem. The LFA bought a one-room cabin similar to the one reconstructed by Dennett. When the last rebuilt cabin was placed in the Memorial Building, its size made visitor circulation difficult. The LFA reduced the cabin's size from 16-by-18 feet to 12-by-17 feet.

Today, historians recognize that the former claim that these logs were from Lincoln's birth cabin was essentially inaccurate. In his book It All Started With Columbus, satirical writer Richard Armour stated that Lincoln had been born in three states and also "in two cabins - the original, and the reconstructed."

So the original log cabin doesn't exist and a replica is housed inside a mausoleum. Hell, I didn't know that. But what the heck, if folks have been coming to this spot for over 100 years to look at this imitation, so will I.

It was warm (make that hot) when we visited the site. It turns out nothing is real on this site except the location. But it is nevertheless interesting. The mausoleum which hold the fake, reduced size cabin had it's cornerstone dedicated by President Theodore Roosevelt (I've already seen two of his homes, the grand one, Sagamore Hill on Long Island, and the one room cabin in Medora, North Dakota) in 1909, and the building was dedicated in 1911 by President William Howard Taft. Officially it's called a memorial log cabin temple, but it looks like a mausoleum to me.

Next to the mausoleum/memorial is a path that leads to an underground spring which gave this area its name: Sinking Spring Farm. This in itself is a treat, but the air temperature just 20 feet below the surrounding ground is about 20° cooler - even a better treat! Old fashioned air-conditioning; I can almost see Abe the Babe drag his bed down here so he can sleep in cool comfort.

The Memorial, fake log cabin, fake interior, and the spring that gave this site its name.
click on collage to enlarge

But the Lincoln's didn't stay here too long, after losing this farm in some sort of monetary screw-up/swindle, they moved about 10 miles east of here to Knob Creek. Another log cabin, which is another fake. The story on this one is that it belonged to a friend of the Lincoln's and more than likely Abe was actually in this cabin. It was moved to the approximate location of the Lincolns' home. Abraham Lincoln's earliest memory was his near drowning in Knob Creek, and being saved by the neighbor's son.

Behind the cabin are the 40 acres the Lincoln's farmed. Abe lived here until the age of seven, but Thomas Lincoln got screwed out of this farm as well. From here they moved to Indiana, on a site that now proudly proclaims itself as Lincoln's boyhood home. 

The Next Fake Lincoln Log Home
click on collage to enlarge

After a long day of Lincolnizing it was time to head back to the campsite and get ready for the evening's festivities: Cory's dad, Gary, and Cory's brother-in-law, Jansen, would have their gourmet sandwich food truck at the soft opening of the Apocalypse Brewery in Louisville. The Apocalypse Brewery would provide the beer and the Four Square Sandwich Co., the food. A perfect combination to have!

At the venue we got to meet more of Cory's family and friends who all turned out for the event. As Gary and Jansen slaved away at making their delicious sandwiches, we'd enjoy the nectar of the gods, including an interesting watermelon beer - don't knock it until you've tried it, I've tried it, and I'm not knocking it!

Fare & Square sandwich truck at Apocalypse Brewery
click on collage to enlarge

A good time was had by all, and after a long day, we still had to drive back south to our campground. Tomorrow is another day!

Bourbon for Breakfast?

Our first morning in the Louisville area was another lazy affair but that changed rather quickly when I discovered that we would have to drive 70 miles and east of Louisville to get to the Woodford Reserve Distillery in Versailles, KY, right smack dab in the middle of Kentucky horse country.

I wasn't too keen on driving all that far one way to view a distillery, but once I started driving through the beautiful Kentucky countryside I was into it. The distillery is part of the Kentucky Bourbon Trail - something that should be on everyone's bucket list. 

We met up with Nikki and Cory and Cory's mom, Pidgn, and sister, Kenzie, at the reception building of the Woodford distillery, which included a tasting area, gift shop which also sold their bourbon, and a cafe. We kicked around a bit until our tour number was called. We were gathered in a small theater-type room to become educated to what we were about to witness. And then it was time to board an air-conditioned bus to take us on the tour of the real distillery process.

Did I mention it was hot? In case you hadn't heard, it gets toasty in Kentucky in the summer. Nah, it gets Africa hot. It was so hot that I saw two trees fighting over a dog.

Getting into the air-conditioned bus was a real treat, but the two minute ride ended too quickly. When we got off the bus, our tour guide reminded us that we were entering a distillery and things get even warmer inside. The mash has to ferment and then that mash has to be heated to distill the alcohol that eventually becomes bourbon.

After we entered the fermentation building, we discovered that our guide was quite loquacious, Marianne just about passed out from the heat. And this was just on the bottom floor of barn. We climbed up a flight of stairs to see the the bubbles escape from the 7500 gallon vats. And if you don't remember from your junior high science class, heat rises, so it was even hotter on this second floor. Three vats were bubbling like a witches brew, the bubbles were carbon dioxide created from the yeast consuming the mash mixture. We were warned not to stick our heads directly over the vats since the CO2 displaces the oxygen, which may cause you to faint, which may cause you to fall into these vats, which may ruin a perfectly good batch of mash. Marianne wasn't worried about the lack of oxygen, but about the amount of facts the tour guide as reciting in the immense heat.

I, on the other hand, was absorbing all these factual tidbits. Did you know why all great thoroughbred race horses are bred in Kentucky? It's the water; it has a high calcium and magnesium levels and low in iron content since it is filtered through a labyrinth of limestone (you've heard of Mammoth Cave, right? The longest cave system known in the world.). It's this same water that gives bourbon its specific taste. This water is only found in this part of the world.

Bourbon whiskey is a type of American whiskey – a barrel-aged distilled spirit made primarily from corn. The name of the spirit derives from its historical association with an area known as Old Bourbon, around what is now Bourbon County, Kentucky (which, in turn, was named after the French House of Bourbon royal family). It has been produced since the 18th century. While it may be made anywhere in the United States, it is strongly associated with the American South in general, and Kentucky in particular. I do declare.

The tour and the heat continued for an hour. At its conclusion we were rewarded with the air-conditioned bus ride back to the reception house. Although I think we learned just about everything there was to learn about the making of bourbon, I have to admit, I've never tasted it. But my fortunes would be changed when we were escorted into the tasting room to partake a sample of Kentucky's finest.

Wow! That was some potent stuff. I discovered I like mine diluted with water. Now I understand why some folks order bourbon and water. And as an added bonus, we got to keep the shot glasses we received to down the samples. I now have six. Beat that.

Woodford Reserve Distillery
click on collage to enlarge

Wallace Station
click on photo to enlarge

After the tour we headed to a quaint roadside cafe frequented by the horse breeding set. The place, Wallace Station, was packed. And I have to say that the horsey crowd knows where to eat. Sorry Jared (Jared S. Fogle - also known as the Subway Guy). The sandwiches we had were delicious.

On the way back to our KOA campground in Shepherdsville, we did get a little lost exploring the back roads in this area. The farms with their stately homes, stone or wood fences, and elegant horses are a scene right out of a movie.

When we got back on the main road we drove right into and through a rain deluge. One minute high and dry, the next soaking wet, and then high and dry again. And the temperature dropped 20° when we drove through the rain. What a relief. . .no matter how short-lived.

That evening we drove back into Louisville for a dinner party for Nikki and Cory at Kenzie and Jansen's home with Pidgn and Gary, friends and relatives. Jansen barbecued a pork tenderloin and bacon wrapped lamb. These Kentuckians were going to spoil us. That evening Marianne and I became part of a new family.

The Clinton/Mueller Gang
Jansen, Kenzie, Gary, Pidgn, Rainer, Marianne, Cory, and Nikki
click on photo to enlarge

'ville 2 'ville

Cory and Nikki spent a second night at the Nashville KOA us. But before we headed out to Cory's hometown of Louisville, we were going to go to downtown Nashville one more time. Nikki had a college classmate from Encinitas who was also graphic design major who was working at this hip company that we just had to see.

We dropped Nikki and Cory off at a coffee shop inside the "Marathon Motor Works" building which had been converted to offices where Nikki's friend worked. The Marathon is remembered locally as being the only brand of car ever actually built in Nashville. It is now the home to several artistic businesses including an antique store called Antique Archaeology (the business at the center of the television series American Pickers). Marathon cars are collectible today like other Brass Era cars, although only nine are known to have survived. Four of these are currently in the possession of the owners of the former Marathon Building. 

Marathon Motor Worksclick on collage to enlarge

We also went to a second location run by Nikki's friend's company, a very high end second hand clothing store. Just for an example, belts that I bought for about $5 in the early '70's were being retailed for $200. Yikes!

High End 2nd Hand (and Feet) Store
click on collage to enlarge

After taking care of all those visiting obligations, we headed back to the KOA campground for the final time in Nashville to hook up the trailer and head north to Louisville. The trip was mostly uneventful until we got closer to Louisville and I kept seeing signs pointing us to the birthplace of Abraham Lincoln, about 30 miles south of Louisville. I knew that I would have to visit this historic site come hell or high water!

We pulled into the KOA in Shepherdsville, KY, whose claim to fame is the home of Zappos footwear outlet store. Another thing on my bucket list! The campground was nice, but I discovered (too late) that I was assigned a site with no sewage dump, which would become an issue in short order.

After we got set-up, Cory's mom, Pidgn, sister, Kenzie, and his grandmother came to our campsite for cocktails and snacks before we headed out for a delicious pizza dinner just down the road a piece from the campground. After dinner Nikki and Cory went with Cory's family to spend their nights at Cory's dad's, Gary's home right in Louisville.

The family promised us a busy next day with a visit to probably the best bourbon distillery in Kentucky (on the Kentucky Bourbon Trail if you're keeping score) followed by a party with Gary's and Kenzie's husband, Jansen's brand new mobile food truck business, Four Square, at a grand opening of a new micro brewery, Apocalypse Brewery, in Louisville.

We were ready to party!

Nashville Country

Yeah, I've been to Nashville before, but it's been almost 40 years. All I remembered was the Parthenon. At the time I didn't appreciate country music. And I was there in the summer in an un-air-conditioned Ford Courier pick-up with an un-air-conditioned cab-over camper. Quite frankly I don't remember how I ever survived the heat. . .being young and crazy helped.

Nikki and Cory had been to Nashville previously, so they would be our guides for a while. But first we had to get breakfast at the local Waffle House. Turns out one of Cory's first jobs was the WH, and this gave him the "in" as to how to order his hash browns. I promised myself the next time I was at the WH I'd also get on the bandwagon.

After breakfast, but before going to the "big city", I decided I had to get rid of the bicycle rack that I purchased especially for the trip. It was a Camping World special that just hung over the permanently attached ladder on the back of the trailer for roof access.

I had spent about half of the time getting ready for this adventure trying to get a good way to get our two bikes to hang on this rack. Try as I may, it just looked jury-rigged. The rack worked fairly well for my men's bike, but Marianne's women's bike was another story. I used a handful of bungee cords and zip ties coordinated with washcloths and even an old glove in an attempt to keep the bikes from rubbing against one another, the rack, the ladder and/or the trailer. When I had finally finished this abomination I discovered that they stuck out of the back of the right side of the trailer by 18". Well at least I could see them in the truck's rear view mirror to determine if they we still attached.

Over the past 2500 miles I've watched them bounce along, petrified that when passing another vehicle, especially a large semi, or even a wall to my right, I would simply erase them from the back of the trailer. It added another element of excitement to our trip!

The new bike rack, which you can't really see,
 but you get the idea!

Not only that, since I had spent so much time attaching them, I just didn't ever want to take them off, because of the extreme hassle involved. So, for the duration of the trip so far these bikes were just decoration on the back of the trailer. That, and it's no fun biking in 100° plus temperature.

I knew that there was a better solution, because I had seen in not only on other trailers but at Camping World when I cheaped out to by this one. And now that I was camped right next to a Camping World, I would make my amends, and spare no expense.

Since I had a strong welded bumper I could purchase a receiver hitch-based bike rack. But I didn't have a hitch receiver on the back of my trailer, I had to purchase a bolt on version of said item. Of course Camping World had this item. Plus they had a nifty bike rack that I was convinced would be the answer to my dreams.

One hundred and seventy five dollars later I was ready to bolt this contraption to the back of my trailer in the blistering Nashville heat. . ."Mad dogs and Englishman in the noon day sun."

With Cory's assistance we successful in attaching it to the trailer, and even with the bikes on it (no muss, no fuss) it was as solid as a rock. To coin a phrase, once again, I was a happy camper!

Printer's Alley
click on photo to enlarge

Chores done it was time to head out. Cory and Nikki wanted to see "Printer's Alley" which turned out to be just off the downtown action. In this interesting area we found an English pub in the basement of this building which was all really in an alley. The atmosphere was a great re-enactment of a London pub, including the various English pub and food menu. We all enjoyed our food, and I especially liked my curried vegetables.

After lunch we headed just a few blocks east, and in the shadows of some very large buildings we came upon Nashville's imitation of New York's Broadway. Here there a bustling crowds, miles of neon, music emanating from bars, honky tonks, dives, stores, car radios, and street musicians. Our senses were overwhelmed. 

While Nikki and Cory browsed a shop which specialized in reproduction posters which they printed right there (not cheap!), Marianne and I walked into the sunlight in an attempt to capture the flavor of this area. The few hours that we spent there are definitely not enough, I'll have to come back here for a week to see everything.

Walking Through Nashville
click on collage to enlarge

More Nashville
click on collage to enlarge

By the time the kids had left the print shop Marianne and I had explored much of this area of downtown, which we had to do again when they got out. If you like to people watch, I highly recommend this area.

Now it was time to see the Parthenon again. We saw it last in 1975. This is a full-scale replica of the original Parthenon in Athens. It was built in 1897 as part of the Tennessee Centennial Exposition. Given that Nashville's moniker was the "Athens of the South", influenced the choice of the building as the centerpiece of that 1897 fair. A number of buildings at the Exposition were based on ancient originals, however the Parthenon was the only one that was an exact reproduction. It was also the only one that was preserved by the city, although the Knights of Pythias Pavilion building was purchased and moved to nearby Franklin, Tennessee.

The Parthenon with MY Athena
click on collage to enlarge

And I must say it is much better than the original on the Acropolis in Greece as this one isn't broken and falling apart. . .

The Nashville Parthenon is also a home to a large statute of the Greek goddess Athena just like in Athens, but unfortunately it was too late for us to gain admission to see her in all her glory. Another reason to spend a week here.

We also drove through Music Row, which is in essence several blocks of mostly homes that have been converted into recording studios.

On the Way to Nashville

We spent almost a week in Montgomery, a city I've been coming to for 44 years. We had a great time with the family. Highlights include a double-header Montgomery Biscuits AA baseball game from a sky box (the only way to watch a game). followed by an outstanding fireworks show, great meals, the American wedding reception for our nephew, and of course spending time with not only our daughter, Nikki, and future son-in-law, Cory, but also all the rest of the family.

"The Help"
click on photo to enlarge

For all of you who ever watched the movie, "The Help", you know one of the main themes in the movie is toilets, and that all self-respecting Southern families that had (as they were called at the time) colored maids. And while these maids were employed by their genteel families, they had to use a bathroom just for them.

When I came to Montgomery the first time, I "found" that bathroom and decided it was the most convenient one and also offered the most privacy (a prime concern of mine). So I used it all of the time. The first time I was "caught" using that toilet, the family looked at me funny and said that that was the "maid's bathroom". "So?" I replied. They tried to explain it to me, but it just failed to sink in. To this day it is the toilet I still use most often.

Our next stop would be Nashville, Tennessee on our way to Louisville, Kentucky. For this leg of our adventure we took Cory and Nikki along with us in our four-door truck. This meant that our two dogs would now have to share their back seat with Marianne and Nikki, as Cory was in the passenger seat. I was worried that the dogs would complain, but they held their tongues and it all worked out fine.

The pretty countryside between Montgomery and Nashville flowed easily outside of our windows. When we stopped for lunch at a Cracker Barrel (naturally!), we put the dogs into the trailer and turned on the air-conditioner. After a classic meal, we returned to the trailer only to discover that the generator was no longer working. Oh-oh, but after a quick check I discovered that we had run out of propane.

Fortunately it wasn't a problem since there was a RV sales lot just across the street. Getting there was a little tricky, but within a short time we had both propane tanks filled and were on our way again.

One thing that I noticed when we entered this state (Tennessee), is that it seems everybody speeds. Sure, I poke along at 60mph in the slow lane when I'm towing, but folks are really driving fast around here. It took me a while, but I finally realized that when the speed limit signs say 55, it's not the maximum speed, but the minimum speed! Folks are driving so fast that I was almost killed trying to get out of the truck to line ourselves up with a fence post to see if I was moving!

Those who have followed us know that we love to visit presidential birthplaces, homes, and libraries. And along the way I saw the exit at Columbia, TN for the home of the James Knox Polk the 11th president of the United States. Under normal circumstances Marianne and I would have stopped and made it a point to tour the home, but with Nikki and Cory with us, we decided that we would have to pass this way again because of the outstanding history along this trek, including Pulaski, TN, birthplace of the Klu Klux Klan after the Civil War.

Polk, although a relatively unknown President to most, was born just outside of Charlotte, NC, served as Speaker of the House of Representatives from Tennessee, Governor of Tennessee, and defeated Henry Clay as a dark horse presidential candidate in 1844. 

As a child his health was problematic and by the time he was 16 the pain was so unbearable that he was taken to a doctor in Kentucky who operated to remove urinary stones. Polk was awake during the entire operation with nothing but brandy for an anesthetic. Although the surgery was successful, it may have left Polk sterile, as he did not sire any children.

James Knox Polk
click on photo to enlarge

Polk was the last strong pre-Civil War president, and was the first president to have his photograph taken while still in office. He was noted for his foreign policy successes, first with Great Britain over the ownership of the Oregon Country, and then when Mexico rejected the American annexation of Texas, he led the nation to a sweeping victory in the Mexican-American War, which not only gave the United States most of its present Southwest, but also launched the military careers of most of generals who fought in the Civil War, both North and South.

He also oversaw the opening of the U.S. Naval Academy and the Smithsonian Institution, the groundbreaking for the Washington Monument,  the issuance of the first postage stamps in the United States. And he promised to serve only one term and actually did not run for reelection. He died of cholera just three months after his term ended.

Scholars have ranked him favorably on the list of greatest presidents for his ability to set an agenda and achieve all of it. Polk has been called the "least known consequential president" of the United States.

Now you know why I like presidential history, even those that are considered obscure.

Toward sunset we arrived in Nashville and after a maze of highways and roads we found our KOA, which was right down the street from demolished (1997) former Opryland USA theme park. The property is now home to the Gaylord Hotel, The Grand Ole Opry House, Roy Acuff's former home, and the Grand Ole Opry Museum. The surrounding area is a mishmash of fast food joints, mini-museums, two RV parks besides the KOA, and most interesting to us, a Camping World.

After we settled in and cooled off, we walked the dogs among the lightening bugs, and then opted to drive to a Dairy Queen for grab some much needed ice cream treats. 

For the first time ever the air mattress in the couch (or is it sofa?) was inflated and tested. It worked!

Tomorrow we'll be taking the city by storm.

Family Reunions

I love family reunions since I had so few of them growing up. I came to this country in 1955 with my family as a five year old pre-schooler. It was just my parents and my year old sister. That was all of us in this country. And I didn't speak the language.

To acclimate me as quickly as possible my mother made me go outside and play at our new Long Island home; the neighborhood kids found me a curiosity, and tried their best to communicate with me and include me in their games. It was what researchers today call "full immersion". I didn't think of myself as a scientific experiment, I just wanted to play.

About a month after arriving in this country, my mother dragged me, and yes, it was dragging, kicking and screaming to begin the first grade in the school that abutted our home. I didn't want to go. I was overwhelmed. I was being thrown to the wolves. How can a mother do that to her only son, her oldest child?

But hey, it turned out alright. When I was finally assigned a classroom and teacher, they were having art class, and you don't have to know any particular language to work Crayons. But since I was late in getting into that class, the only Crayons left were the green and purple. I remember that I drew a tugboat pushing an ocean liner - a scene etched into my mind as we entered New York Harbor on a dreary overcast day to dock along a bevy of other ocean liners - in green and purple. This was during the heyday of ocean liners and trans-Atlantic travel, a few years before the age of jet liners. I'm so glad I got to experience this ancient method of travel.

And within 2½ years I would cross the Atlantic two more times on ships. Not on a tramp steamer as we had done on this 11 day crossing, but on two of the most beautiful and fastest ships that ever crossed the Atlantic, the U.S.S. America and the U.S.S. United States, which cut the crossing time to just 5 days.

But leaving Germany was leaving behind not only all of my friends but all of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins as well. So when holidays and birthdays came around, it was only the four of us. This would continue for 17 years until I married my angel from Montgomery (to coin a phrase....), when I was blessed with an instant set of relatives.

I met Marianne in the summer of 1969 in Yellowstone National Park. She had gone there with a couple of her Montgomery girlfriends to work, I had come there to camp with a college friend. She actually saw me at Fishing Bridge when I was at the laundromat to wash a week's worth of t-shirts, shorts, and underwear. She claims she thought I was cute.

After washing clothes I took my bright green with white stripes 1969 Camaro to find some action. Just outside Fishing Bridge we picked up three hitchhiking girls who worked there and needed a ride to the Lake Hotel where there would be a dance in its ballroom. In talking to these girls I discovered that the ratio of girls to boys in the park was 8 to 1, and they\se were all college co-eds from around the country. And, at Fishing Bridge they had just fired a group of guys for some infraction.

This was all I needed to hear.

I discussed staying in Yellowstone for the rest of the summer with my college classmate, but he would have none of it, he wanted to get back to the University of South Dakota to take summer classes on his way to becoming a medical doctor. "Eight to one," I reiterated. But it was no use. So I took him to the nearest airport at West Yellowstone, Montana and paid for half of his airfare to return home. "See ya in the fall!"

I climbed back into my Camaro and headed to Gallatin, the northern entrance to Yellowstone, where I had learned I'd be able to apply for a job with the Yellowstone Park Company to work in this matriarchal society.

Upon arrival at the employment office I met two other collegians from Minnesota who were also looking to work in Yellowstone. They wanted to know if I knew the best location to work in the park, and when I told them of the beautiful girls we picked up at Fishing Bridge, the dance a the Lake ballroom, the firing of those truant boys, and that wonderful ratio, I convinced them. Too easy!

We did our job interviews and were all immediately hired, especially when we said we'd like to work at Fishing Bridge. Wow, said the staff, we just discharged a number of young men at that location, so they're looking for replacements. Wow, what a coincidence!

The next day we started our job of cleaning the camping cabins at Fishing Bridge. At the morning briefing our job descriptions and duties were explained to us, and each of us was assigned to two girls to learn the ropes.

I was assigned to Marianne, who asked, "Ya'll new heah?" "What?" "Ya'll new heah?" "What?" and after she repeated herself the third time, someone asked, "Are you new here?"  "Oh, oh, yeah, we're new."

Also working with Marianne was a society girl from Mississippi, another daughter of a doctor, so I was immediately under the spell of that Southern charm. Yes, I was smitten!

On that first day, we screwed around so much, that we didn't get our work completed on time, so we had to work overtime and miss dinner to get our work done. That was a good thing, because I had a car, and employees weren't supposed to have cars, I offered to take her out to dinner at Canyon Lodge.

That sealed the deal. Thereafter we were a couple. And someday I'll write about all the unbelievable adventures we had in Yellowstone, probably a book all in itself, and probably a better movie (Ron Howard are you listening?).

A couple of weeks later, Marianne's mom, dad, younger sister, and younger brother came out for a visit. This turned out to be the beginning of my reunion family.

After the season ended in Yellowstone, I convinced Marianne to drive with me to my home in South Dakota and meet my parents. She flew home to Montgomery from there.

Three months later I flew to Montgomery to spend Thanksgiving with her and her family and as an added benefit experience the wedding of her older sister.

After a three year long distance romance we were married in Montgomery, and that officially gave me a new extended (very extended) family - grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, second cousins, second cousins once removed, and second cousins twice removed (I've never been able to understand that "removed" stuff).

In due time all of her siblings and cousins married and had kids of their own, doubling and tripling the size of my new family. Heck, we even added a couple of our own kids.

We'll with that many people the only way to get together and see every one is to have a family reunion. And for the past 40 years we've been coming to Montgomery to partake in this glorious event.

Montgomery Family Reunion
click on collage to enlarge

Sure, in the ensuing time people have died, but now those kids of our siblings have married and are having kids of their own.

This year in Montgomery, we had 19 people converge on Marianne's 92 year old mom's house. Helen is a wonder, she could pass for 72. She reads three newspapers a day, drives all over in her own car, volunteers at the museum, plays cards, and maintains a great home, and even cleaning the swimming pool all by herself.

This reunion we celebrated: 1) the recent marriage of Marianne's oldest sister's youngest child (who is now a PhD) to a beautiful girl from Mexico who is also getting her PhD (their wedding was in Mexico), 2) the upcoming marriage of Marianne's younger sister's only child, a daughter in South Carolina in October, 3) the upcoming marriage of Marianne's younger brother's youngest daughter in Montgomery in February, 4) the upcoming marriage of our daughter in San Clemente next May, and finally 5) the surprise upcoming birth announcement of Marianne's oldest sister's younger daughter (apparently this child was conceived during the Mexican wedding - does this affect the child's immigration status?).

Watching kids grow up and then our generation become the grandparents is a rite of passage that has played out for generations, but one never thinks that this will ever happen to them. I'm even more amazed to learn that some of my high school classmates have become great grandparents. Yikes! Where has all the time gone.

But this is why I love reunions. Getting to see these people, rehash stories that have been rehashed many times before. Many stories begin with "Do you remember when....?" I will continue to travel great distances to take part in these reunions.

And in a week we'll get to join another family reunion as we travel to Louisville to immerse ourselves in the family of our daughter's fiance's family. More in-laws, more cousins, more fun. 

Oh, and my college classmate? He finished summer school, college, went to medical school, and is now a respected surgeon in Minnesota.

How one's life changes with the paths one chooses. . .

The Woods? Oh Really?

I wonder how some RV Parks come up with their names. Take for instance our stay in Montgomery, Alabama at a place called “The Woods”. Judging by the name you’d guess you’d be in the middle of a forest with rustling leaves, chirping birds, complaining squirrels, and no satellite connectivity.

But you’d be wrong.

We've stayed at this park previously when it still seemed relatively new. The RV park was basically a quarter mile square lot, laid out with about 10 rows of one-way gravel roads that led to about 100 pull-through RV sites also on gravel. And just a few saplings that hope d to grow into full-fledged trees one day.

Now three years after we first stayed here, I expected those saplings to be reaching for the sky in their best imitation of tree.

But no.

The place is unfortunately still pretty barren; so I wonder why it’s called “The Woods”? 

Oh sure, I can see that it was carved out of an area that was once an entire tree filled lot, but those trees were cut and bulldozed leaving just the remnants of the red dirt that Alabama is notorious for. At one time it was probably legitimate to call this place “The Woods” because it really was the woods. It was the boonies, even though it was just a couple of hundred yards from the major north/south Interstate through Alabama, and just a hundred yards from a Waffle House, an Arby’s, a McDonald’s, a Kentucky Fried Chicken, a Taco Bell, a couple of gas stations, convenience store and across the street from a truck stop.

The grass has a hard time growing here, it seems like it doesn’t want to intrude on what was once the trees domain. You’d think with all the rain we experienced here the grass would at least encroach and begin to dominate the area offering a reasonable semblance of a conflict much like an Auburn vs. Alabama football rivalry. But the grass just rolls over and dies. The only living thing that thrives here are the red ants.

These critters don’t put up with anything. They dominate everything.  After Armageddon it will be the red ants looking over their realm and feeling content that in the end, they won.

As I was walking Frick and Frack, aka Molly and Coco, through the park so they could do their “business”, when I was greeted by a woman coming out of a trailer that had not been on any kind road since the first Bush was president. This was permanent resident of the park.  I’m guessing the woman was about my age, but it was hard to tell; she had long flowing grey hair almost to her butt, granny glasses, but a definite absence of teeth and, of course, a cigarette hanging from her lips. Think hillbilly.

She liked my dogs and wanted to know what kind they were. I almost got the entire breed name out, miniature schnauzer and a miniature schnauzer/Brussels griffon mix, when she went into a diatribe about the red ants, and how bad they were this year, and how once a month she goes to buy some lethal poison to annihilate them in the proximity of her yard.

Apparently she didn’t get out much. She was just happy to see a person walk by. Under normal circumstances the dogs are very gregarious and will greet most anyone who comes within sniffing distance, but even they sensed something not 100% copasetic about this human-like form before them. Maybe she was just showing me her Southern hospitality, but I felt I was being approached by the woman in the Hansel and Gretel fairy tale.

I used my Northern charm to convey the importance of my returning to my trailer before said Armageddon. And left her sucking on her cancer stick.

Maybe that’s why this place is really called “The Woods”. It’s a tribute to the residents of the area. If you've ever seen the movie “Deliverance” you’ll have a better understanding of my thought process.