I don’t follow Route 66 as much as I had hoped, in fact, there isn’t much left traveling from Oklahoma City to Amarillo. It is mostly I-40 with a few stretches of the original highway. There isn’t a whole lot going on this section of the iconic highway. In such, I don’t see many of the venues that the highway is known for. However, there are many things to explore during my brief visit to Amarillo. […]
The mantra “Keep Austin Weird” can be seen throughout The Bat City. It is on billboards, business marquees, bumper stickers, and T-shirts. A city that not only flies its freak flag but embraces it tightly. While only here for 48 hours, I see a number of men (my assumption) walking various streets wearing evening gowns, rompers and a pantsuit that would make Hillary envious. Except for maybe some tribal villages outside of Africa, Austin has to lead the planet in nose rings per capita. Weird, perhaps, but expressing oneself is certainly common, encouraged and celebrated here. […]
Traveling along I10 towards the Creole Nature Trail, I notice innumerable advertisements for crawfish and boudin. I’ve had plenty of crawfish while traveling through the southeast, but only have a cursory knowledge of boudin. Much to my surprise, there is a Boudin Trail in the Lake Charles, LA area. […]
As an Owensboro native, I never considered my hometown as a hub of bluegrass music. I set out to uncover this Bluegrass connection. At the foot of the Ohio River bridge, is the newly constructed Bluegrass Music Museum. I find that the museum is closed on Sunday. In fact, the entire riverfront is deserted on an early Sunday morning. The Bluegrass music echoing from overhead speakers adds comfort to the otherwise gloomy skies and empty streets.
It seems that Owensboro is laying claim to its Bluegrass roots due to the proximity of Bill Monroes’ childhood home. Bill Monroe, “The Father of Bluegrass Music”, grew up 30 miles down the road in Rosine, KY.
I have been wanting to drop into the International Bluegrass Museum for a couple of years but somehow it never seems to fit into the schedule. On a previous visit, the museum was closed.
It’s an early rainy morning the weekend before Christmas and the whole riverfront is deserted. Much to my surprise, the museum is open today.
Admission is a reasonable $8. I find a lone employee behind the counter and she eagerly introduces me to the museum. Sally starts a movie detailing the roots of Bluegrass Music narrated by the Father of Bluegrass, Bill Monroe.
I do find such history interesting but I am told the movie is :40 minutes long. That’s a bit much for my short attention span. I wander around to some of the displays adjacent to the theater.
The displays give a textbook definition of Bluegrass Music as being tight throated, high-pitched, piercing and full of lonesome yearning for the good simple life. I never thought of it like that; but I’ve always appreciated the sound.
The displays are pretty static offering overhead domes for listening to the various artists and highlighting nuances of the music. Fortunately, I am the only one here. If it were busy the kiosks would be competing and playing over each other.
One display I particularly enjoy highlights bluegrass music in TV and film. Who ever gets tired of hearing “The Ballad of Jed Clampett”, from The Beverly Hillbillies, “Dueling Banjos” from Deliverance and “Foggy Mountain Breakdown” from Bonnie and Clyde?
I fondly recall listening to Dad trying to pluck out Foggy Mounting breakdown and Cripple Creek when I was a child. He never quite got the hang of it, bless his heart, and he about drove us crazy trying.
I wrap up the tour back at the lobby / gift shop area. Sally enthusiastically asks about my visit. While discussing the exhibits, I spy a huge upright bass behind her. I ask if it’s available for a photo op. She does me one better and provides a little impromptu lesson / jam session. I garner a whole new appreciation for the art; she just made it look easy!
The current venue is small and cozy but big things are in store for the museum. In 2018, they get a new larger venue with much more to offer. I’ll have to work on my plucking and come back for the Thursday jam sessions. In the meantime, I’ll continue to yearn for the good simple life.
I seek to learn more about Mr. Monroe and travel to The Bill Monroe Home Place. While its posted hours state it should be open, it too is closed. The sign on the gate states to call the posted number and someone will be there for a tour within 15 minutes. My call went unanswered. I will return to learn of this connection but for now, it’s lunchtime.
Owensboro is famously known as the BBQ Capital of the World. Sorry, Texas, Kansas, & Memphis. We got the trademark first. We celebrate the second weekend in May every year with the International BBQ Festival. Owensboro’s BBQ specialty is Mutton. Mutton is lamb meat smoked over hickory wood. It is served in both sliced and chopped varieties usually on white bread or hamburger bun. As a sandwich, expect it to come with pickle and onion. I prefer the sliced mutton, with a vinegar-based sauce that we locals call “dip”. Burgoo, a type of lamb stew, is also a staple of the area.
Usually, my goto BBQ place is Old Hickory BBQ. But today I head to the best-known BBQ house, Moonlite BBQ. The Moonlite features a large buffet of BBQ’d mutton, pork and ribs with veggies, mac and cheese, and other southern foods. However, my favorite is the large desert bar with more regional favorites: pecan, lemon icebox, and chess pies. As well as banana and bread puddings.
The day ends on a much renovated Ohio riverfront river The gray skies have cleared and I am rewarded with a tremendous sunset.
When a few friends got together for a casual bike ride across Iowa in 1973, no one imagined that a tradition would be born. Much less that it would become the longest, largest and oldest recreational bicycle touring event in the world. RAGBRAI is held the last full week of July. 10,000+ cycling enthusiasts of all ages, fitness levels and demographics convene to cycle across Iowa.
The routes vary each year, going from west to east. This allows riders to take advantage of the prevailing winds and to keep sun at their backs. The ride begins with a ceremonial back tire dip in the Missouri River and proceeds approximately 500 miles with a front tire dip in the Mississippi River at its conclusion.
The ride proceeds through many small towns along its daily predetermined route. Each town shows off its unique personality to the throngs of new visitors. These towns are proud of their agricultural heritage. They proudly show off the tools of their trade. On display, are vintage tractors and the latest state of the art farm equipment. Light poles and streetscapes are adorned with flags, flowers and numerous forms of art depicting cycling. Also prominently featured are displays of young livestock, giving city dwellers an opportunity to see farm animals up close and personal.
Despite being amongst thousands of other RAGBRAI cyclists, I can help but feel like a VIP when rolling into town. Residents wave, ring cowbells, shout words of encouragement and cheerfully welcome you to their home town.
Each daily ride ranges from 50-80 miles with riders overnighting in a designated host town each night. The majority of riders camping in city parks, ball fields, schoolyards, and industrial parks. Many charter services are available to move your camping gear from town to town so that you may cycle unencumbered. My particular favorite is Pork Belly Ventures. For a modest fee, they spot out campsites, transport your gear and provide morning coffee and evening dinner.
A large part of the allure of RAGBAI is the guilt-free overindulgence of regional cuisine. The towns’ schools, civic organizations and churches find the opportunity to raise money by catering to the ravenous appetites of hoards of hungry cyclists. You can expect to find locally produced foods such as: pork, beef, buttery ambrosia sweet corn, cheese curds and just about anything that can be put on a stick.
Many of the communities give tribute to their European heritages. I found the Norwegian lefsa wrapped brats and Czechoslovakian kolaches to be unexpected treats. My absolute favorite stop of the day was Hostetler’s Amish pie and ice cream caravan. They offered traditional and fried fruit pies with vanilla ice cream churned on-site.
As if the hospitality and food weren’t enough, the locals go to all lengths to entertain the riders. Town themes ranges from Mayberry to the paranormal. Fun and games abound, including petting zoos, spinning couches on tractors, cow chip tossing, and Elvis impersonators just to name a few.
My favorite is a game of waterball with the local fire department. The object of the game is to push an empty keg with the firehose past the opponents line. Kind of a reverse tug of war. Its wet, loud, and way too much fun.
The days of riding can be long, but the ever-changing pastoral views go by too fast. I’m overtaken by the serene beauty of contrasting colors of green corn and soybean fields against the blue skies. The pops of color from barns, houses, and silos add to the awe-inspiring landscape.
The week winds down with one more challenge. The Mount Hosmer Challenge
Harriet Hosmer was a neoclassical sculptor, considered the most distinguished female sculptor in America during the 19th century. She is also the first female professional sculptor. Legend has it, that during a steamboat layover, Harriet challenged the crew to a foot race up the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River. She won the 7/10th’s of a mile race, running barefooted, in 7:03. Since that time, this bluff has borne her name: Mount Hosmer.
A part of this years RAGBRAI festivities and ending location in Lansing, IA, the organizers revive the spirit of the legendary race and let cyclists compete. Those with a time better than 7:03 receive a gift and the honor of having beat Harriet. As a reasonably fit man, outfitted with a custom-fitted, 22 gears, carbon frame, state of the art bike, I should have no problem beating that time, right?
17% grade to start!! That’s a momentum killer. It never flattens much from there. It is a tough steep uphill slog. About 1/2 way up, I peek at some spectacular views of the Mississippi River below. I could waste no time gawking however, as the seriousness of the challenge was quickly revealing itself.
With heart-pounding and breathing labored, I cross the finish line. A race official hands me a nice commemorative stainless steel tumbler for completing the challenge. Was this the winners’ gift I had hoped for? Uh, No. It was a consolation prize. My time? Well, let’s just say Harriet – 1, Craig – 0. Kudos Harriet, you are one tough gal.
RAGBRAI is more than just a bike ride across Iowa, It is part sporting event, part county fair, part parade with a splash of Mardi gras. It represents all that is great about America: simple fun, community pride, and the joy that comes with being active and outdoors. All one needs to participate is a bike and a sense of adventure. While I would recommend doing the whole week, you can simply join in for a one day ride at any of the host towns.
I was excited to learn of a little country church serving breakfast in Marion, NC. What a great way to fuel up before a day of hiking and waterfall exploring in the Pisgah National Forest. Little did I know an introduction to livermush awaited.
