17 July 2010

On the road at 8 again, heading across the western tip of Kentucky toward Ft Campbell, KY, and Clarksville,TN. Ft Campbell is the army base all the guys where I grew up went to for basic training before getting shipped to Viet Nam, and The Monkees "Last Train to Clarksville" was the anthem for that.

Our first stamp stop of the day was at the Stones River National Battlefield near Mufreesboro, where they apparently do re-enactments on Saturday mornings in the summer; there were lots of cars lining the road, and the parking lots were full. Fortunately, there were a couple of bikes strategically parked, leaving room for several more, quite close to the entrance. The re-enactors were preparing to fire several field pieces, and it seemed a shame not to stick around for that, but then we were on our way again.



When I'd set our next stop for the Chickamagua-Chattanooga National Park, I had no idea it was at the top of Lookout Mountain and a tortuous, twisty climb. And when we got to the top I was reluctant to take any more time admiring the view; I just caught a glimpse or two on the way back down.



The final detour was to the Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield, where we met delightful, enthusiastic Bunny and her two friends; they were collecting stamps and filling passports, and, when they heard what we were doing, wanted to know how many books we'd filled. After trading cameras back and forth (one of them was actually using a disposable film camera), we tore ourselves away and got back on the road.



It was way too late to try and make it to Perry, since we'd lost another hour, and scoring three stamps had cost us riding time, so we got off near the Atlanta airport and found shelter in a Days Inn.

There didn't appear to be any grocery stores immediately to hand, so I checked a gps, which claimed there was one within walking distance. We followed it back across the interstate, but instead of a grocery store, we found a huge farmer's market, with several acres of produce on display; it was apparently a regional distribution center for such.

After wandering up and down a couple of aisles, we noticed the Oakwood Cafe on the premises, and figured they'd at least have fresh produce.

What they had was a huge dining room serving down-home southern cooking, and a no-nonesense waitress with a soft core. After we'd ordered, she brought samples of their broccoli-cheese soup (delicious) and a basket of corn bread and rolls, since we couldn't decide on one or the other. And finally, the food--the BBQ "Around the Horn--a little bit of everything for the indecisive one" was my choice, but they lied about the "little bit." A quarter chicken, half a dozen short ribs, a pint of pulled pork and two vegetable sides was almost more than I could manage, leaving no room for the peach cobbler I desperately wanted to sample. Once again, the waitress came through with a small (in her eyes, maybe) dish of it--heavenly!

We staggered back to the motel, where we availed ourselves of a handy guest laundry and finally got to bed--late.

States: Kentucky, Tennessee, Georgia

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