A Little Kentucky Flavor –Ft. Boonsboro State Park, Kentucky 6/4

Today was quite a day. I might get a little long-winded on this one, so pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit a spell. We weren’t sad to have an early start from Nolin State Park. We were never really sure what was up, but everybody kept staring at us. It was a relatively small campground, perhaps 24 sites, and between the California plates and the Winniemobile, we’re used to people coming on over and chatting it up with us. We were camped in the middle of the campground and people just sat in their chairs, facing toward us, and stared. It felt rather like we were in a fish bowl. As we left the park, driving through backroads and hills, we were absolutely charmed by the folks sitting on their porches waving to us as we drove by – and this was at 8 in the morning! It was quite touching and totally changed our opinion of Kentucky hospitality. The interesting thing about driving this particular stretch of road was the juxtaposition of neat and tidy Amish farms situated next to hillbilly ramshackle anything goes places. Once a year Kentucky has something called the “4 Day 400 Mile Sale.” Yep, for 400 miles (mainly on Rte. 68) it’s one big yard sale. The problem is that with some of the places you pass by, you can never tell if it’s a yard sale or the people are just living like this. Neds says it looks like something exploded all over their yard. (To make my point, one of the people in the campground this morning brought their refrigerator – yes the big one – with them. It wasn’t plugged in or anything, we think they may have put ice blocks in it to use it as a jumbo size ice chest.) Our first destination was Abraham Lincoln’s birthplace. As a National Historic Site it was quite small, but done well. We enjoyed the visitor’s center and walking the grounds, but the cabin was under construction and we couldn’t view it. The next stop was Lincoln’s boyhood home, Knob Creek Farm. It was very low-key, and not really much to see, but we enjoyed taking a stroll and enjoying the peacefulness of the country property. For me, the best part was when we walked down to the creek (or crik as they say in this here parts) to see where Abraham Lincoln was saved from drowning by being pulled out by his childhood friend. When we got there and viewed the tiny little trickle of water Ned said, “Aw, the least they could have done was make it a good stream so we didn’t think our President was a weenie. Kinda makes the guy look like a wimp to almost drown in 2 inches of water.” (Viewing these sites is one thing, doing it with Ned is a whole other ball game!) Feeling rather Lincoln saturated at this point, we thought it a good time to maybe hit the Bourbon Trail. We had a beautiful drive through the country to Maker’s Mark Distillery. Knowing that we didn’t want to take a long tour or taste bourbon on an empty stomach we had a nice lunch at the little café on the grounds. (Ned highly recommends the bourbon bbq pulled pork sandwich). The tour was fantastic!! Our guide, Herb, was truly a Southern gentleman who was equally knowledgeable and delightful. We not only saw the entire bourbon making process, but also got to see the bottles being hand dipped in the red wax and stamped. And of course, the bourbon tasting after was divine. (Today’s pic Ned doing a little sampling). As if we hadn’t already done enough in one day, we decided to visit Shaker Village. We got there with only about an hour to spare before closing time so were able to just walk in and roam about on our own. It was enough…So, I bet you’re thinking our day was just about ready to wind down. Well this is where things really got interesting. Our final stop for the night was Fort Boonesboro State Park. We could have taken the highway up to Lexington and then followed the major roads to the park, but oh no – not us! After viewing the map we decided to just take a “short –cut” though a couple of unmarked backroads. We saw on the map that we could even catch the “free ferry” over the river. (In case you’re not aware, Kentucky has these free ferries you can catch over the rivers. They are a one-man operation that is guided by cables between the two shores and can fit one, maybe two cars. We’re not sure why this operation is cheaper than bridges, but we’re only from California and don’t know much). With me driving and Ned navigating (a deadly combination on both accounts) we started our short-cut. It’s a little frustrating because many of the roads around here don’t tell you the name of the road nor what the next town is. Anyway, at some point Ned said, “If we get to Sulphur Well we’ve gone the wrong way” right about the time I drove past a road marked Sulphur Well. “Mmmm – let’s just take this road and cut on over to the road we want to be on.” Seemed like a good idea until the orange line down the road disappeared and the houses turned to trailers and the trailers looked like “something exploded on their lawn.” Up and over the ridge and thru hollers we went, driving by tiny Pentacostal churches. The road kept getting narrower and narrower until finally we were in front of a road barricade that said, “Road Ends 500 ft.” I stopped the car, we looked at each other and just started laughing. At about this time, a guy in a beat up red pick-up truck, with a big black dog hanging out in the back, drove towards us on the road. He pulled up next to us, Ned got out, and we both said rather sheepishly, “We’re lost.” He asked us where we were headed and when we told him Ft. Boonsboro State Park, he took off his hat, scratched his head, let out a big sigh and said, “ You ever see the movie called Wrong Turn?” No, we said. “Well, rent it. Cuz you’re in it. It’s about getting lost in West Virginia.” Oh, did I mention he had a hand gun sitting right next to him on the seat?! Well, turns out he was the sweetest guy. He probably thinks a girl driving a van with California plates lost in the backroads of Kentucky ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he basically told us to turn around and go the more conventional route. And for the record, he said that if the road wasn’t washed out we might have made it work, then mumbled something about the locks not working and the government being no damned good. And then again, you never know the hours of the ferry guy…After about a good hour or so, we FINALLY made it to the campground. So, let me tell you about THIS place. We thought we would be staying at a quaint Daniel Boone Fort campground. Instead we pulled into a campground that is about the size of 3 football fields and has 160 campsites. Every single one of them has a fifth wheel parked in it. Poor Winnie looks so pathetic parked in the middle of them, like something they coughed up. We got on our bikes to check things out, rode past the sewage plant, miniature golf course, the pool with the condemned water slide and in the middle of the campground, where the asphalt basketball courts are located there was music blaring and at least 25 girls tap dancing!! Seriously. When I asked about it someone corrected me and said they were clogging, not tap dancing – whatever. 25 girls with taps on their shoes sounded like tap dancing to me! We decided that after today we deserved a dinner out. The closest restaurant is about 5 miles from here situated on the banks of the Kentucky River. We settled for the catfish dinner, not the frog legs (yes, really) and decided that we earned the margaritas and cold beer today. It’s days like today why I have traveling in my bones. You can’t make this stuff up and it’s why I love America!