Monday, 28 October 2019
today's route |
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Carter County where last night's campground sits is the site of the greatest concentration of caves in Kentucky - which is saying something when you think about Mammoth Cave, though I guess that just counts as one. Anyway, I thought I'd heard of Saltpetre Cave, which there's one of here, but as far as I can tell from online research, this Saltpetre Cave is not the same as the Great Saltpetre Cave, farther south, though still in Kentucky. This one, nonetheless, has some interesting history. This link tells you about the various caves accessible from this park. parks.ky.gov/parks/carter-caves
We
had heavy fog that lingered until nearly 11:00 in some places today,
including along the road I was driving. And the road I had to take
to leave the campground is a winding road that goes downhill to
stream level, then climbs back uphill to the interstate. A very
narrow road but very pretty, with overhanging branches of leaves that
were changing colors. When light filtered through it was beautiful
and very peaceful.
Google
absolutely insisted that somewhere between the campground and the
bridge across Big Sandy River to West Virginia, the interstate was a
toll road. I finally decided I didn’t believe them. I researched
as much as I knew
how to learn about toll
roads in Kentucky but could find not a hint of a toll being charged
along this stretch of the road. So
I took a chance and proved Google wrong, yet again. But I enjoyed
the beautiful scenery again along that road. Funny – I’ve driven
that road on the other side of the border and don’t remember it
being anything like
as scenic as this side. Across the river is Huntington, WV, and I
stayed at a campground just a few miles from there and drove that
road several times last year. It was beautiful over there but not
like this. Yet I’d think it would be the same mountains on either
side of the river and the same general
topography so have no idea why there’d be such a difference. Makes
me wish I’d studied geology or geography before I began my trip.
I
left the interstate for Route 23, known
as the Country Music Highway, because
along or near it are the homes or birthplaces of some of country
music’s luminaries. I somehow managed to see none of it. I
understand there’s a Country Music Highway Museum that may be in
Paintsville and, though I stopped there for groceries and lunch, I
didn’t see any indication of a museum. Just wasn’t looking in
the right direction, I guess.
I
did see the turnoff to go to Butcher Holler, Loretta Lynn’s home in
the tiny town of Van Lear, but I didn’t go see the home of “the
world’s most famous coal miner’s daughter,” as a brochure
termed it. I actually like the music of her daughter, Crystal Gayle,
better, and she too was born there. But I don’t go to many
birthplaces for people that weren’t US presidents, and this wasn’t
an exception.
I
passed the road to Jenny Wiley’s grave. Since I’m staying in a
state park named for her I should maybe explain that she was “a
pioneer heroine who was held captive by the Indians for 9 months. She managed to escape, reunited with her husband, and raised a
family” in this area. The quote is from a tourist brochure. The
state park brochure calls her a “brave pioneer woman,” though it doesn’t say why. I haven’t bothered to look her up to see why
she’s called a heroine, or even brave. I thought this sort of
thing happened from time to time back then. Nobody says the
“Indians” (no idea what tribe) mistreated her, or even that they
used her as a slave which, let’s face it, pioneer white people were
doing more than their fair share of with captive black people. But
she’s important around here.
I
passed what sure looked like a nuclear power plant.
The
Morehead NPR station started playing classical music, but I prefer
the news programs and hunted around until I picked up a signal from
an Ohio NPR station. I’d be listening and suddenly, I’d hear
nothing; then I’d hear the program again and suddenly, nothing. I
finally correlated it to the mountains I was passing south of and
figured they were blocking the signal. I finally ran out of an NPR
station altogether. Fortunately, I enjoy most country music.
Yet
again I had trouble finding the campground because the roads Google
promised existed weren’t there. They show them on their online
maps, but they aren’t there in real life, and neither is anything
else there that’s just labeled differently. I finally ended up
guessing and stumbled on the back entrance to the campground. But I
found it.
Of
course, there wasn’t a ranger on duty when I got there and many of
the campers had left. In fact, it looked like several of them were
packing up to leave for the season. Fine by me. Easier to walk the
dogs. And my campsite was somewhat more level this time, so that’s an
improvement.
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