72. MAMMOTH CAVE & NATIONAL CORVETTE MUSEUM

Kentucky

12/30/2010

Patricia – what is your problem with some of these crazy entries? These places are an hour from each other and have absolutely no connection in any way. I didn’t say one word about Shaker Village being in Harrodsburg and then you gave us this weird “Beaumont Inn & Harrodsburg” entry. I gave you a break on that one. But this one defies any sense of logic. I thought I could trust you again, Patricia. I thought we were through with these little games of yours. You’re just lucky Daniel is obsessed with cars right now, so we went to the darned museum and the caves.

First, the Corvette Museum – the only museum in the world dedicated to a single vehicle. It is filled with Corvettes. Lots of Corvettes were parked outside. Lesson: Corvette people like looking at other Corvettes.

The Corvette Museum didn’t do much for Laura and I (and probably not Philip) but for Daniel it was a religious experience. You have to understand Daniel’s preoccupation with cars to understand the unadulterated ecstasy this place gave him. “Car! Car! Car! Car!” he yelled while pointing at each vehicle. Every time he saw a new one it was a huge surprise and the gleeful explosion happened again. Unfortunately we literally had to drag him kicking and screaming when we left.

We stopped at a Wendy’s before we left town. Instead of handicap spaces they had “Corvette only” spaces. Yikes!

We then made our journey to Mammoth Cave – the world’s longest underground cavern system. We got a little lost and thought we would never make it. The GPS tried to send us up somebody’s driveway. Then his two huge dogs ran out and wanted to get run over. Eventually we found an alternate route. We got a little worried when we started seeing signs labeled “Warning: Road ends in water.” Like sensible people we just kept driving forward, but wouldn’t you know? The signs weren’t kidding. However, there’s a little ferry that moves back and forth whenever a car comes by. I say ferry, but it reminded me of a supped-up version of that little raft the Grim Reaper takes people across the River Styx. Nevertheless, it took about 15 seconds to cross the river and I then nominated the ferryman (stuck in a tollbooth-like control room) with the “Most Mind-numbingly Tedious Job” award.

They offer various tours of the cave, but due to having two kids with us and the fact that Laura is pregnant again (surprise!) we opted for the least strenuous. With Daniel strapped to my back and Philip strapped to Laura’s front we bought our tickets. We waited outside for the tour to begin. The ranger tour guide gave us a little spiel and right before we got on the bus he said, “Oh, you can’t bring a back carrier.” Now you tell us! Why didn’t the ticket lady tell me that? I was able to quickly run back to the car and drop off the carrier. I was going to have to carry Daniel in my arms the whole way. Good thing I’m so buff.

After the short bus ride we reached the cave entrance. Steve from Blue’s Clues (I swear he was our tour guide) explained that the covered overhang had been built for Ronald Reagan during a presidential visit. He seemed a little bitter about that since he said they never needed an overhang before.

The cave entrance was sealed by a huge door in a concrete bunker. Going inside did feel like entering a sci-fi movie. Artificial lights allowed us to see some pretty amazing formations, the most famous being the Frozen Niagara – a huge limestone cascade that looks like a stone waterfall. At one point Steve turned out all the lights so we could experience absolute darkness. They say in absolute darkness you can wave your hand in front of your face and not be able to see it. It’s true. I tried.

Steve brought us to a stopping point and then allowed us to backtrack at our own pace, which was pretty neat. We did allow Daniel to walk around a little bit. He enjoyed pointing out stalagmites and stalactites, but I don’t think he knows the difference.

And thus another trip ended. The five hour trip home was without incident, except for that time we nearly crashed into a toilet sitting on the highway. KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN-tucky!

71. THE LINCOLN TRAIL

Kentucky

12/30/2010

Another trail – this one all about the guy on the penny. As we have already learned, every state claims Honest Abe and Kentucky prides itself on being the “Birthplace of Lincoln.” So let’s go see where the Great Emancipator made his dramatic entrance.

His hometown has a bunch of places like an ice cream stand called “Lincoln Freeze” and “The Lincoln Country and Western Tavern” but there are some real Lincoln sites too. We first encountered Abe Lincoln’s childhood home. Then we saw Abe Lincoln’s school. At least, that’s what the historic plaque said. There was no building. Just a cow. Laura thinks the cow ate the school. I didn’t think that was likely. We talked about this for a while.

Eventually we reached the Abraham Lincoln Birthplace National Historic Park. They built an entire park around it. That’s how cool Lincoln is. There’s a big Lincoln Memorial-type Lincoln Memorial in the middle. Go inside and there is a “symbolic cabin.” Laura was mad that it wasn’t the real cabin, which is of course beaver food by now.

70. THE BOURBON TRAIL

Kentucky

12/30/2010

Before we could continue our journeys we had to fill up the gas tank. While I was pumping the gas this lady who worked at the gas station came up to me and started talking to me about where we were coming from and where we were headed. Really friendly lady. I chalked it up to that Southern hospitality you always hear about. When I got back in the car Laura brought my attention to the “We pump the gas” sign. Oops.

Kentucky supplies more than 95% of the world’s bourbon whiskey, and a group of distilleries make up the Bourbon Trail. Being teetotalers we went for the history rather than the free samples and focused our attention on the Bourbon Heritage Center in Bardsville.

This is a modest museum where visitors are treated to a little film on the history of Bourbon, with a particular emphasis on Heaven Hill Distilleries and how much more awesome this particular brand is than all the others. Did I mention who runs the museum?

The apparent highlight of the museum is this giant keg-shaped room where visitors enter and are given free samples of many types of bourbon. Laura, the kids and I didn’t go in there, but everyone else was in there for a long time. I wonder who was driving everyone home?

If I sound flippant I’m not trying to be. In fact, both Laura and I agreed that it was interesting to learn about the creation of bourbon and its importance in Kentucky history. Even nondrinkers can appreciate that.

69. BEAUMONT INN & HARRODSBURG

Harrodsburg, Kentucky

12/29/2010

The Beaumont Inn has two distinctions – it is the oldest family-run inn in Kentucky and it rests in the oldest town west of the Appalachian Mountains. Despite its famous reputation (Franklin Roosevelt slept here) it’s not very pricey, especially in the – you guessed it – winter months… on a Wednesday. So we figured if it was good enough for Eleanor it was good enough for us and decided to stay the night.

We were now deep enough into Kentucky we were definitely in the official South. We were now “sugah” and “ya’ll” to everyone. And the Beaumont certainly has the Tara thing going for it. The inside is chock full of nineteenth century furniture. A few of the pieces have “Do not touch” signs, but for the most part the furniture is for the use of the guests. My favorite area was the front desk/library with original books from the inn’s early days as a girls’ school. If you’re ever there check out where some girls had scratched their names into one of the windows when the teachers weren’t around.

Our room was very nice, with a few wrinkles that would probably make us mad in a more modern hotel. The bathroom door wouldn’t close properly and one of the bedside lamps kept randomly going out. There also weren’t any extra plugs anywhere in the room, so if someone needed an outlet they’d be out of luck. No soap in the bathroom either. The ambience of the building and the friendly staff offset a lot of this though. It was obvious that a lot of love went into preserving this place despite a few little mistakes.

There is a restaurant attached to the inn – the Old Owl Tavern. The upstairs is for adults only and the downstairs is for families. This really is genius. We love our kids, but they could no doubt ruin the romantic mood for a couple of honeymooners. On the other hand, it was nice to not be barred from somewhere elegant because we’re a family.

Anyway, the food: I had a Hot Brown and a slice of Derby pie. KEEEEEEEEEEEN-TUCKY! Laura had a hamburger and spent the night battling food poisoning. Uh oh. Not what you’d expect at a place like this.

A stay at the Beaumont comes with a sit-down breakfast. We had better luck with this meal. This food was actually prepared in the hotel kitchen this time and was excellent. Their specialty is hot cakes. Sounds boring, but they really were the best pancakes we’ve ever eaten.

68. SHAKER VILLAGE OF PLEASANT HILL

Harrodsburg, Kentucky

12/29/2010

For those in the know the Shakers were a communal sect that flourished briefly during the nineteenth century and are now essentially extinct. Nonetheless, a few of their communes are preserved for historic reasons – the largest and most complete is Pleasant Hill just outside of Harrodsburg.

There’s basically a main street lined with Shaker buildings, a few of them containing costumed interpreters doing Shaker things – which means making little wooden crafts with traditional tools. I’ll be honest: As a general rule I’m not a big fan of costumed interpreters, but thankfully these people just dressed like Shakers and didn’t try to talk like them. None of that “Yon cell phone doth distracteth” stuff.

Interesting look into a footnote in American history. I think most people have heard of the Shakers but don’t really know who they were. I now have some great Shaker trivia next time they come up in casual conversation. Did you know that the Shakers were the first to sell seeds in those little paper envelopes? I do. I learned that at the Shaker Village. Ain’t I special?

Here’s another piece of trivia: Admission is half off in the winter months.

67. BEREA

Berea, Kentucky

12/29/2010

Berea College was founded as the first interracial, coed school in the South. Their mission is admirable – a prestigious college in which only low-income, high-achieving students are admitted. Tuition is free, except all students must work for the college – usually through their craft program. The craft culture has spread to the entire town and it is now one of those artisan hubs.

We started by visiting the college and its Log House Craft Gallery. This is where students sell their wares – apparently. Like many “small town secret gets big” places we’ve seen the Log House has gotten very big. Now it sells crafts from all over Kentucky, so it was hard to tell what items were made by students (if any) and which by professionals. It would have been nice if the distinction had been made. We were genuinely interested in seeing student work. Regardless, purchases do still help offset tuition, so that’s still good.

I must mention the two girls who were working at the store. They both seemed as though they were contemplating ending their own lives – if they didn’t fall asleep first. I asked one of the girls if she was a student. “Yeah,” she said. Then she yawned. I wasn’t too surprised. As romantic as Patricia makes this college sound, would I expect the students to be that different from anywhere else?

After our college experience we took a nice walk in the downtown art district, peeking into artsy ceramics and pottery places. Strangely, there were two chocolate places across the street from each other – “The Chocolate Factory” and “The Fudge Factory.” One was run by a man, the other a woman. Laura figures they were a divorced couple trying to stick it to each other.

We capped off the afternoon by eating leftover Christmas dinner in our car. Pretty classy, huh?

66. BLUEGRASS COUNTRY

Kentucky

12/29/2010

According to the Book, Kentucky’s bluegrass country covers 4,000 square miles and 15 counties. Getting a little vague there, Patricia.

Ok, so the big thing about this part of Kentucky is the horse culture and Patricia says there’s nowhere better to start than the Kentucky Horse Park in Lexington. We left at 5:30 in the morning in order to get there in time for the 9:00 opening. We made record time and actually arrived around 8:30. It was pretty chilly outside and the workers were kind enough to let us wait in the lobby until the park opened, but it was a little awkward. They must have been thinking, “Wow. These people really like horses. A lot.”

Eventually the park officially opened and we were allowed to wander freely. We were the only people there, which made sense since who in their right minds goes to a park on a December morning? People who want to pay half off their admission – those kinds of people. We are those people.

Actually, the weather wasn’t too bad, although we didn’t get to see too many live horses. Philip was hypnotized by the horses we did see, while Daniel kept pointing at a service vehicle. “Car! Car! Car!” Yes, honey. There’re also horses here.

At the center of the park is the International Museum of the Horse, which is an indoor facility where we spent most of our time. This is a huge museum organized chronologically – starting from the evolution of the prehistoric horse all the way to modern moments in horse racing. Everything you have ever wanted to know (or not know) about horses seemed to be covered to non-equestrians like us. We felt thoroughly thoroughbred by the end. (Ok. That was lame.)

Laura had the most fun. When she entered the museum she took what looked like a business card from a slot. Throughout the museum were computerized kiosks. Each time she would swipe her card over the kiosk she would make decisions for a virtual horse she followed throughout the museum experience. This was a really cool touch.