Wagon Wheel

I'm not sure why, but one of the most comforting songs that I've been listening to on this trip is Wagon Wheel (the Old Crow Medicine Show version). I listened to it a lot yesterday, on the road from Murfreesboro to Chapel Hill, NC, especially after hearing about the shooting in Aurora, while driving through the second most awful rain storm ever, and while thinking about my transition to Delhi, NY.

This was the longest and most anticipated leg of my trip. I crossed from Tennessee into North Carolina through the Smoky Mountains, listening to Wagon Wheel, driving at the casual pace of 45 mph, and watching the mist float up from the mountain valleys, truly understanding how these mountains got their name. The last time I visited this area of the country was in 2006. I was escorted by three fine gentlemen from college on my first backpacking trip, and, really, when I think about it, my first real traveling adventure ever. It was so much fun and, after all of these years, the Smokies are still magical, possessing a special place in my heart.

Great Smoky Mountains Backpacking Trip, March 2006

It took 5 hours to get to Asheville, NC where I saw another friend from the University of Rochester. This was a much better encounter than the last time she saw me when I was dehydrated and puking in the streets of Lake Placid, NY after climbing two high peaks in the Adirondacks in one day.

In Asheville, NC!

Another 4 hours later, I arrived at a dear, dear friend's house in Chapel Hill, NC. The last thirty minutes of the drive to her place were real emotional. I knew I would be getting another glimpse of Colorado through her, a fellow DU graduate, but, at the same time, we are both so very far from Denver and so very unsure of our impending careers in small town USA.



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Listen along:
Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show
Bluesky - Trout Steak Revival (link redirects to a listing of several songs)
High Lonesome - Trout Steak Revival

May the Circle Be Unbroken

It's nice to be stationary every once and awhile, even while on a road trip.

I spent the day yesterday exploring Nashville with my friend from the University of Rochester. We began our day with a tasty trip to the Loveless Cafe where staff wore shirts which read "got biscuits?" At this point, we were fortified for the most exciting bit of the day: a tour of the Grand Ole Opry's Opry House. After all, experiencing the country music scene was only appropriate after visiting the soul scene in Memphis (check out some tunes I heard while in the Opry House's gift shop below!). The Grand Ole Opry has been around for 86 years, making it the longest running radio show in the world. A circle of wood from the original Grand Ole Opry stage is planted right in front of the mic, center stage. What an awesome spot for country music aficionados to stand, remembering the great performers from years past! In fact, we had an aspiring country singer in the midst of our tour group and he made his "Grand Ole Opry" debut right on that very spot. Though I proceeded to the back of the tour group so as not to see everyone snicker when he belted out an awful tune, he wasn't too shabby!

Grand Ole Opry Stage with the traditional pew style seating

After a lovely tour of the Grand Ole Opry and the nearby Opryland Resort, my friend and I made it to "Music Row," a street filled with honky tonks and wannabe country stars. I made a rash decision to enter a bar after hearing "Chicken Fried" blaring from behind some doors. It was the most socially awkward bar I've ever been to, complete with a waiter who said "Bam" upon setting our utensils on the table and a host who suggested two different bathrooms for me to use, "in case one is busy," in the nearly empty establishment.

::swoons:: (Statue) Elvis sang to me then read my fortune!

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Listen along:
Go Rest High on that Mountain - Vince Gill, Alison Krauss, Ricky Skaggs
Will the Circle Be Unbroken - Johnny Cash and the Carter Family

Rhythm in the air

Yesterday morning, after sleeping nine hours, I begrudgingly got out of bed and then immediately perked up, knowing I would be arriving in Murfreesboro, TN to visit a friend from the University of Rochester. While fueling up at breakfast before heading on the road, my favorite AR memory occurred: the highlight of Arkansas was listening to a little kid at the hotel eating his breakfast and talking about "a donkey landed on its ass!" He was promptly shushed by his mother, but both of us were grinning ear to ear.

Neon sign in the museum

There's been a great natural progression in my Southern travels with two major themes reoccurring: a history of prejudice and the evolution of music. En route to Murfreesboro, I stopped at the Rock n Soul Museum where I learned about the evolution of gospel music and work songs to soul and rock and roll. The exhibits detailed the cooperation of black and white musicians, emphasizing their shared rural, sharecropping background, forming the cultural basis for such wonderful music, and the emergence of a generation yearning for music that differed from their parents'. The most impressive aspect of the museum itself was the audio tour with awesome sound clips from the all black radio station, WDIA, the all female station, WHER, and, of course, the tunes themselves (check out the links to selections from songs played at the museum listed below).


Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to visit the National Civil Rights Museum, constructed around the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. I will certainly try to visit that museum if I'm ever back in Memphis, but I felt that I got a holistic vision of Memphis, its history, and a view of the racial tension that occurred there through the Rock n Soul Museum.

The worst part about my drive to Murfreesboro was a sudden wall of rain I encountered 40 miles from Nashville. It was the hardest rain I've ever driven through and the most stressful part of driving thus far. I pulled off the highway at the next available exit, but, let me tell you, that was a tense two miles from when the rain started. Thank God for hazard lights, adrenaline, and a Shell gas station. Oh yeah.... it doesn't help that every ten miles, the state of Tennessee likes to remind you of how many people have been killed in roadside fatalities (542 yesterday; 544 as of today, in case you were wondering).


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Listen along:
Soul Man - Sam and Dave
The Revolution Will Not Be Televised - Gil Scot Heron
Much Later - Ike Turner
Precious Lord, Take My Hand - Ben Branch and the Operation Breadbasket Orchestra and Choir
That's Alright Mama - Elvis
And for the rain... Wind and Rain - Crooked Still

Little Rocks, Stubbed Toes

There are a couple of simple pleasures that I enjoy on a road trip. The most important of these is squeegeeing (yes, that's a word) my windshield. There are some high quality squeegees, and some lower quality ones, some with long handles and some with short. Sometimes there are bugs in the washing solution (a scary looking bee and a grasshopper, so far) and sometimes you wake up so early in the morning that the gas station attendants have just filled the buckets with new, clear, clean solution. This was the case yesterday morning as I pulled out of OKC and I felt like the first person in the world to ever squeegee. My squeegeeing experiences, my stop at Cracker Barrel (to return Nick Sparks), and watching a line of bikers salute each other as they passed each other at the Arkansas/Oklahoma border were the highlights of my day.

The further East I traveled from Oklahoma and into Arkansas, the greener the landscape became, but the worse the drivers were. Nicholas Sparks' book became increasingly more stressful, setting the tone for the rest of the day. By the time I got to Little Rock, Arkansas (why do they pronounce it Arkan-SAW?) I was ready to be completely stationary, sick of almost being sideswiped by truckers and distracted drivers. My Google Map navigator talked me through the roads and I parked in front of Bill Clinton's presidential library. Alright, I thought, thus begins my exploration of Little Rock! I even paid a wee bit extra for the audio tour, knowing I wouldn't have the patience to read signs. Well, what I didn't have patience for was Bill Clinton's voice as he narrated his life to me. Returning to my car, I found that my plant, given to me on Librarian Appreciation Day, was sad and wilting, overcome with heat and exhaustion from our trip (the fourth time I've almost killed it).

A trip to the "Oval Office"

Exterior of the Clinton Presidential Library

Next, I was determined to find Little Rock Central High School, where the Little Rock 9 attended school, as per the suggestion of a RMPL member's wife. While asking locals about it, they asked me, "Well, you're going now, right? In the daylight?" (No, in fact, I wanted to go at 1 AM, buy drugs, and maybe an illegal firearm.) "Yes of course! Why...?" When asking the locals about places I could walk to, people avoided my gaze and told me I shouldn't walk around. Anywhere. Period. I like exploring and I'm a decently stubborn person, so I found all of this extremely frustrating.

Little Rock Central High School

Wanting to be rid of Little Rock and have an early exit this morning, I decided to get out of the city and get a hotel reservation closer to my next destination. If Oklahoma and New Mexico represented the peaceful and personable aspects of a road trip, Arkansas represents the other side of the spectrum entirely.

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Listen along:
Heavenly Day by Patty Griffin
Oxford Town/Cumberland Gap by Crooked Still

Comfort, Strength, Peace, Hope, and Serenity

I left Puerto de Luna with a full stomach and even more food for the road, ready for the next leg of the trip... through Texas. The flat, dry, and extremely monotonous land flew by, courtesy of the mundane, yet all-consuming writings of one Nicholas Sparks. Thank God for Cracker Barrel's audiobook lending system (not to be replaced by your public library for round trip adventures, of course)!

I ended up in a bit of the country called Oklahoma, a special place and my favorite state (overall) so far on this trip. They had the most luxurious rest stop just over the TX border that would put the NYS Thruway to shame and all of the people I met had excellent customer service skills. Realization of the day: I will never completely rely on my smartypants phone for directions. It's much better to chat with locals who can tell you about the road conditions and the best spots to park. In fact, by chatting with the people at your hotel's front desk, you may even get free batteries for your camera when you ask if any are sold nearby. The state was filled with tons of sweet people and good drivers! In addition, Oklahoma City reminded me of Albany, NY complete with a business/government district and similar looking highway bridges all right next to a lovely river.

Yet, the above is a bunch of inconsequential nonsense. The most important thing about Oklahoma City is the Oklahoma City National Memorial. This deserves a whole post of its own or, better yet, it deserves your presence in Oklahoma City.

9:01 Gate symbolizing Oklahoma City's last moment of innocence

 

An illuminated chair for each person killed.

I expect that I lot of people remember where they were on the morning of September 11th quite vividly. But do you remember where you were at 9:02 Central Time on April 19, 1995 when a bomb exploded outside of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City? It's strange to feel so connected to a tragedy that happened so far from home, but my family was. We watched the coverage of the Oklahoma City Bombing rescue and recovery efforts every night, we planted a tree named Oklahoma in our front yard, and we wore ribbons of blue, purple and yellow to honor the victims. What touched a lot of people, especially my mom, a federal worker with the Social Security Administration who sent her kids to a government-run daycare and summer camp, was the fact that 19 children died in the bombing. The youngest was 3 months old and in the building to receive his first Social Security card.

The 9:03 Gate represents the first moment of healing

This is the context from which I arrived at the memorial. It is one of the most peaceful and powerful places I have ever visited. I compare it to finding the Southern Cross in the night sky above Cusco, Peru and wishing on shooting stars in Death Valley, CA. The emphasis at the memorial is on survival, strength, and healing. There is a survivor's wall, a survivor's elm tree which caught fire after the blast, and so many stories which I was lucky to hear from the NPS interpreter. I left a note on the fence surrounding the former daycare playground and I left my hand print on the 9:03 Gate, symbolizing the personal impact of the memorial.

Words totally fail. There's so much more to say, but you really need to experience it for yourself.

Expression of grief from rescuers working at the bombing site.

Colorful Colorado to the Land of Enchantment

Against my adventurous judgment, I left the Duffeyroll in Denver early yesterday morning and found myself driving along good ole 25. I intended to take a route through the mountains and past the sand dunes, but the seeds of doubt (that my loaded car might not be able to make it up and over two mountain passes) were planted in my head by an unnamed former roommate (good thing, too). But, mountain pass I did encounter as I crossed the border into New Mexico (yep, I went South!), barely recognizing that I was passing into a state I had never been to before. Luckily, New Mexico likes to advertise they exist, especially since this is their centennial year of statehood, and two additional "Welcome to New Mexico" signs declared that I had entered the "Land of Enchantment." Oooo, ahhhhh (but, what does that mean?)

I took a side trip off the highway in order to explore and be enchanted, arriving at the Mountain Branch of the Santa Fe National Historic Trail and walking around the adobe remains of Fort Union (where I was warned to watch for rattlesnakes and lightning). These were lovely and historical, though, quick excursions!

View of the remains of the Fort Union hospital (where doctors dealt with everything from "arrow wounds to childbirth") and the Santa Fe Trail

I didn't become enchanted with New Mexico until visiting the small town of Puerto de Luna. There, I stayed with my mentor/colleague/friend's parents, who graciously welcomed me into their home, fed me some amazing food, gave me a tour of the "neighborhood," and introduced me to their friends. They took me to the capilla dedicated to Santa Ynez, patron saint of laborers, and to the local church that has the most beautiful statue of Mary that I have ever seen. I was introduced to peacocks, dogs, a cat whose back paws have so many toes they look more like rabbit feet than cat feet, and all of the different types of plants in the yard. We played cards and drank wine and I listened to stories until I couldn't keep my eyes open.

On the way to Puerto de Luna

My new-found friends and the little town they live in have been the most enchanting parts of my journey so far. Their generosity at accepting a stranger into their house (and inviting her back to New Mexico during the holidays), the pride with which they talk about family, friends, and where they live, and the easy laughter that accompanied every conversation, made New Mexico an especially enchanting place. What a lovely memory and a perfect end to my first day on the road!

View from the Capilla de Santa Ynez

La Capilla de Santa Ynez

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Roadtrip with me! I'm listening to "Colorado" by Paper Bird.

Precarious and pesky packing

Preparing to travel is a process whether filling up a tank of gas for a spur of the moment road trip or sitting down with a AAA rep to order your TripTik. The most dreaded part of the process for me is packing.

I am my mother's daughter and I was able to fit all of my necessities in my car, but, as I started driving, I realized I will be stuck driving with these so called necessities until I get to NY. It was after this realization that I fully appreciated the joys of backpacking. Sure, your bag might start out weighing twice your own weight. Yes, you might begin the trip cursing those heavy canned goods you just had to bring along. But, the real joy comes in eating and, therefore, lightening your load. My only hope for becoming more minimalist on this trip is to acquire a taste for paper and eat all of those library school notebooks I packed (yes, I know, first mistake).

Otherwise, I made it safely to my first destination! More about today's adventure... tomorrow!