Asheville, North Carolina

Sunday Morning December 9 we woke up early ready to roll. It was supposed to be a short day but the fog and dreariness made it seem longer than the 300 miles we had planned to arrive in Asheville. We decided to get off the freeway, I-40, and travel a Tennessee Scenic Byway, 70. We laughed a lot about how 70N goes east and west, and 70S has nothing to do with south. In face we were on a couple of roads that say for instance 70 east and 441 south, and they are the same road. No wonder I get all mixed up east of the Mississippi. The drive was lovely though, in spite of the gray skies, and every once in awhile some thought of light tried to emerge. Later in the afternoon we went through Pigeon Forge, an historic town on the north side of the Great Smoky Mountains and couldn’t believe all the attractions that lined the highway on both sides for miles. It was in the vicinity of Dollywood and looked as though it was Disneyland on a highway with lots of traffic, even in the winter. I can’t imagine what a mess that place would be during the tourist seasons in June and October.

Onward via HWY 441 towards the park and came to another gateway town, although this one was a bit smaller, but still filled with shops and hotels and restaurants and tourists. Lots of really big resorts and a gondola with a view of the Smokies. Our first views of the Smokies were a surprise as well, because they are a lot bigger and steeper than I imagined them to be. We started to head for Asheville and then backtracked and decided to go over the mountains through the park. It was a truly gorgeous drive, even in the fog, but a bit hard to get pictures.

Finally arrived in Asheville and tried to find the Wal Mart that was our destination. I had directions from Google, but Asheville is really a mountain city with lots of roads that go in circles. It didn’t help that it was thick foggy weather, either. We got off the freeway a couple of times and finally gave up and called the wal mart for directions. Even then it was hard to find but when we finally did we went inside and thanked the two ladies that talked us in. Lots of laughter on that one, and thank goodness it was a walmart that allows parking overnight for travelers.

Nashville

Saturday in Nashville, Tennessee. Nashville is a city that I would compare to Portland in size and the way it is laid out. There are rivers that surround the city on several sides and it’s a bit confusing to find your way around, but after a couple of trips back and forth we got the hang of it in spite of the fog. The fog was a bummer, because we really couldn’t see much. Nashville would be a place to visit for a week or two actually, there’s a lot to see there. We settled for checking out the beautiful urban park downtown that houses a perfect replica of the Parthenon in Greece, called….the Parthenon. It was awe inspiring, actually, with a huge statue of Athena that was covered in gold leaf in the temple that was also a replica of what the historians believe that the original statue looked like. Reminded me a lot of the huge Buddha that we saw in Thailand, the reclining Buddha, and tempted me to ponder humankind’s love of those big religious images. They do create some interesting internal responses in me, for whatever reason, I have no idea.

After walking the foggy but truly love park we drove downtown to Broadway, parked on the street, kayaks and all, and went walking. Music poured into the streets from the bars, even on an early Saturday afternoon. It was Nashville’s honky tonk row. I saw a great looking building, and kept taking photos of it for no reason other than it looked so wonderful. We then dropped into the Stage saloon where Hank Williams, Loretta Lynn, and a bunch of others have played and had an Irish Coffee and listened to a country band sing a song they had written called “Livin’ on a Tip Jar on Broadway”, while they passed the tip jar. It was an experience. We ambled on down the road and back to the car to go home and get ready for our evening out.

Evening was the classic tradition for Nashville, the Grand Ole Opry, and Mo got tickets for us that included the bus ride into town so we didn’t have to drive it. The Grand Ole Opry has moved out of downtown Nashville to a place called Opryland, with a big resort and a new fancy venue that holds a lot more people, but this month it is being held instead at the old location in downtown Nashville called the Ryman Theater. To our laughter, turns out the Ryman was the building that I kept taking photos of earlier. So we were tickled to be in the historic theater seeing the classic show that was also being televised for the CMT channel. Instead of just music and such, we had continuous commercial interruptions throughout the show, which made it feel pretty campy, but the whole thing was a great experience anyway.

Most of the people on the program were not that famous, at least not people we were familiar with, and there were a few new ones that we hadn’t heard of either, but we had fun anyway. Just glad to say that we did it at least.

Palestine, Arkansas and Nashville

In Nashville at the Nashville Country RV Park comfortably settled in with cheese, crackers and salami and a great bottle of cabernet. Actually, cheap wine here is 10 bucks a bottle, but it’s Australian so of course it’s good. Love that blackberry overtone with hints of vanilla and chocolate in the Yellow Tail. Sigh. Nice evening. It’s been raining and more is coming, but for now it’s quiet.

Today I went to Palestine, Arkansas, where my mother was born. I stopped in at the Post Office to mail our Christmas cards and talked with the postmaster there about the Hurt family, the person listed on my mother’s birth certificate is Emmet Hurt, a barber. After much slow drawling kind southern conversation, interrupted by locals coming in for mailings and conversation, I got the phone number and address of a 90 year old lady who knows all the history of Palestine. And I was told very sweetly that Palestine is in the Middle East and Palestyne in right here in Arkansas.

Just standing in that post office was a southern experience, with Mary the postmaster so kind and conversational, and I just waited and waited while she thought about people to call. Finally talked with a woman who married into the Hurt family who said, “Well, Emmet must have divorced that lady you are speaking of because later he married my aunt and they had no children.” Emmet is dead now, as are his two brothers. I am thinking that maybe the 90 year old lady Vada will remember the gossip of the time, but who knows what the reality is in this story.

My grandmother told me bits and pieces and refused to tell me the whole story, only alluding the intrigue and fear and secrets. I will never know for sure if this man Emmet Hurt is really my grandfather or if he was some kind of cover up to an even more secret story of my grandmother giving birth to a baby girl in Palestine Arkansas at the tender age of 15.

Another small piece of a story had something to do with my grandmother’s mother taking her to the train when in the midnight dark in the rain in an old wagon, getting stuck in the creek, and going fast because the situation was fearful, and my grandmother had to get out of town for her safety. She left my mother behind and went to Tulsa, where she worked as a photographer’s model while her mother took care of the baby back home in Palestine.

Stories. Part of all those stories that flew past my inner vision as I lay on the massage table at the Hot Springs. Do the stories really matter?

It was gray and cloudy as we crossed Arkansas today, with brown fields and brown trees with no leaves, and water that was gunmetal gray full of geese flying somewhere farther south.

Hot Springs, Arkansas

8pm in Lake Catherine State Park, Arkansas
My grandmother lived near here, my mother was born here in Arkansas, maybe it’s genetic, the familiar feel of the hardwood forests here, my Cherokee heritage, past memories that aren’t even mine that I feel here in the Arkansas winter. I went to Hot Springs today, the Hot Springs national park, and to the original Buckstaff bathhouse established in 1912. Turned out to be a truly amazing experience, from the old tiles to the antique plumbing, the huge porcelain tubs, the huge linen bath sheets that they wrap around you as you go from treatment to treatment.

http://www.buckstaffbaths.com/

It was really cold today, at least for what we expected in Arkansas, and gray all day. Maybe 45 degrees at best but really windy and damp. Cold.

Hot Springs is a magical space, at least the area around the actual hot springs was amazing. Old buildings that were once the heyday of the rich and famous coming for the water therapy that used to be considered so healing, even by the medical establishment.

John and Linda came in last night and we visited in the moho and then went to dinner at Chili’s and I had some truly tremendous ribs. It was a nice visit, and they drove back home after 9. He said he could do it, after all he was a truck driver. We talked a bit about trucking and Deanna and Keith and wondering how it all is going to go for them. We even managed to sit around and talk and visit in this tiny space with a modicum of comfort.

Mo was tired last night though, after driving in all that wind, and after “entertaining”. Today’s travels were a mere 138 miles from Van Buren to Hot Springs, and it still seemed like a long day. Mo didn’t partake of the baths, she isn’t susceptible to all that stuff the way I am. I’m so glad I didn’t miss it though.


Tonight the GSM broadband is less than non existent, so I suppose I won’t get to the internet, even though it says I am connected. Ah well. Out in the countryside of Arkansas.

Oklahoma City and Foss Lake

Driving east on I-40 again after a great night at Foss State Park in Oklahoma. Windy is the theme for today. I am surprised in a good way about the number of windmills generating power in this part of the country. Yesterday approaching Amarillo there were miles and miles of huge windmills. Bigger than the ones on the road by Livermore in California, if not quite as many. Now this morning we are passing many more and this time they are all generating. Good for the system, not so great for Moana trying to keep the moho on the road. Feels just like Nebraska again, and big trucks passing us throw us all over the road. She’s back to one hand on the steering wheel though, so maybe that’s a good sign. More trucks on the road today as well, since it has been fairly light for truck traffic until now.

We are approaching Oklahoma City and plan to go to the national memorial there. Even though we think of Ground Zero in New York, this incident in our history is every bit as terrifying, reminding us that terrorism isn’t just something that comes from outside, it’s all around us,

But last night in Foss State Park, any kind of terrorism or violence or problems with the world seemed very far away, unimaginable even. The park is in the rolling plains of western Oklahoma, just a reservoir really, but 8000 acres of lovely water that reflected the setting sun. The campground was very nearly empty, with big wide level paved sites with water and electric right next to the lake. We went for a walk and Abby got to finally swim, first time on the trip. The water was so calm and lovely in the reflected light, luminous and magical, changing shades of pink and lavender and brilliant orange. I managed to get that star moment of the setting sun in a photo. It was warm, too, in the 60’s, and still. The skies were dark during the night with lots of stars and silence, no traffic noises. Sometimes for convenience we park in RV parks near the freeway, and I have become accustomed to the sounds, but last night was pristine. That is a word I might not have associated with Oklahoma in the past. Even though the trees have lost their leaves and the grass is brown, the skies are still clean and the colors have a sweet clarity.

After dinner last night Moana worked on her Christmas cards and I surfed the internet. The broadband card was slower than dialup, but I still managed to find a place for us to park tonight near Fort Smith. I also got caught up on many emails on my work webmail site. Nice to be able to clear that out before I get back in January. Nice also to get the email from Thor telling me that Chad plans to advertise the MLRA positions in Redmond and Salem in January and hoping that I would apply. It’s encouraging since Chad talked to me about this last September and said he might not hire anyone from the last advertisement so that he could advertise again. A good sign. I will apply, and hopefully I will not spend another tough year in California. Maybe I will really be done with it. I am so ready for that, so ready to be home, close to my kids again, close to Moana, back in Oregon. I’ll trust in the Universe as I always have, but I do hope that things go this way.

The winds are really strong now, and Moana is working really hard to keep us going forward. Big gusts throw us sideways into the rumble strips and the moho is doing some serious back and forth kinds of movements. Tornado country, of course we aren’t in tornado season, but geez, winds are the main thing here I guess, and blizzards. Glad we aren’t dealing with a blizzard!

Johnny is planning to drive down to Fort Smith tonight to meet us for dinner and a visit. He said it’s only a couple hour drive for them. I’m looking forward to seeing him.

Later
The day has been really windy, no let up at all as we continue east. There is no sign of a real storm, but there are clouds that look like a weather front is blowing by very high in the sky. We stopped in Oklahoma City this morning to view the Oklahoma City Memorial of the federal building bombing in 1995. 167 people. Funny, more people die in airplane crashes, but this touched the psyche of the American people so strongly, and the memorial is rather lovely, and very dramatic. Got some good photos. My Picasa web photo albums are going to be all filled up before I get through with this trip for sure.

We stopped for lunch and gasoline just outside of Oklahoma City and now have just a couple of hours to go before we get to the Arkansas line. The landscape is rolling plains, with a lot of brown hardwoods that have no leaves. There are lots of green patches of grass that seem to be greening up from the fall rains, but the fields are all brown. Here and there are some winter wheat fields that stand out brilliant emerald. I said to Mo that I wouldn’t mind having no leaves on the trees since we don’t have to deal with the kinds of bugs and mosquitoes that would be in this country during the summer, but even in this brown state, I can imagine how green the summers must be.