Linda cooked us a hearty breakfast while telling us tales of shooting possums and raccoons with her rifle at 2.30 in the morning , and seeing off a deer poacher with a 22 Magnum.
“I was kinda worried so I went and told the sheriff. He said I shoulda shot him and let the fishery and agriculture boys clear what was left away. Deer poaching is a federal offence.”
A lovely woman.
We set off at 9.15 on a very cold frosty morning. It soon warmed up though and turned out to be a fine spring day.
What cattle there were are gradually giving way to horses as we move deeper into Kentucky. The properties are smartening up a bit too. Lots of them have a plaque outside with the Ten Commandments on and the words “America’s moral foundation”. I’ve got off to read several of these carefully and have yet to find any mention of “Thou shalt not drink alcohol” but there it is. A check on the internet tells me we will be in dry counties till Monday at the earliest. Not that this bothers me of course – I just think Mike seems to be getting a little more tetchy these days.
We had hoped to reach our destination, Berea, by lunchtime but we had misjudged some of the distances so it was nearer 4 when we arrived. On the way we stopped for lunch at a garage and a local started giving us directions. He told us that we would pass through a place called Big Hill. (guess why that call it that) and seemed keen to impress us.
Local: Have you been down Big Hill before?
Mike: No, this is our first time. We’ve just come from the North.
Local: Did you ever go down the old Big Hill before they resurfaced it? That was a HILL.
Mike: No, this is our first time.
Local: You can get up to 50 mph on Big Hill. You done it before?
Mike: No, this is our first time. We’ve just come from the North.
Local: So this your first time on Big Hill?
Mike: I think our burgers are ready.
Well it was a really big hill, bigger than anything so far. But for once it was all downhill. Mike went down yeeha-ing like Slim Pickens at the end of Dr Strangelove. As a fully paid up member of Cowards, Wimps and Allied Trades, I stuck to the hard shoulder, brakes on , with everything clenchable clenched
Berea is a pretty small university town, that tries, perhaps a little too hard, to be quaint. A red brick university campus with lots of little bright white book shops and arts and craft places.
We stayed on the edge of town in motel land as the one central hotel, The Boone Tavern ( a name that momentarily but falsely, raised my hopes) was way too expensive. The Holiday is small motel but perfectly ok . The silver haired old lady who checked us in was warning of drug dealers who sometimes tried to use the place so I thought better of asking for the nearest bootlegger.
We bought some cheap US phones in Hazard , mainly to keep in touch with each other in case we got lost. It turned out that Mike’s didn’t work properly so we changed it at the local branch. This took a little longer than planned because the, very helpful, young assistant, Colt, had a broken arm. So things like dialing a mobile or opening those vacuum -pack plastic containers they came in (often using a knife), were somewhat difficult. Fascinating to watch until Mike, the wet blanket, started helping him.
Dinner was in a nearby Crackerbarrel, a chain place doing “down home country cooking”. Actually it was pretty good. I had catfish, turnip greens and pinto beans. Mike had meatloaf, lima beans and corn. Both hearty and tasty. Washed down with apple cider, a sort of apple slush puppy.
A party of school kids came in and sat near us, all wearing T-shirts saying “Odyssey of the mind”. Mike says this is what we are on. Hmmm. Being more of a religious bent , I think rather of Hebrews 8:13 “Jesus Christ. The same yesterday, today and forever.”
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