The Necessary Thing.

West of Amarillo, TX

Morgantown, WV.  4/3/13:   When you travel the Interstate system as much as I, you appreciate whatever comfort the road can offer.  While it's not my intention to upset "sensibilities," I do want to point out what's sensible.  Rest Stops are sensible.  After all, there's no coincidence in states choosing to warn you as much as two miles in advance (I've seen four miles) of an upcoming rest stop and in going further to warn you that the next one is between 40 and 90 miles more.  Forewarned, etcetera..how much are you good for?

  Beyond that, I've found a kind of competition..particularly in the western states..to build stops that are out of the ordinary.  The one above is a showcase of Texas' leadership in energy production; oil, solar and wind.  There are picnic tables, a dollop of history and a great view to boot.

  But when you get right down to it, you stopped for basically one reason, and the "facilities" are worth it.

  Check the tile work in the men's room there.  That's art, above and beyond expectations..pleasant to see, nice surroundings for a few minutes, not what you'd think of finding out there among the hills and the long-haul trucks.  I usually stop there just to look around, if nothing else, and I am assured on good authority that the lady's room is every bit as nice.  I wouldn't know, of course, but I wouldn't doubt it, either.

  This one is at Clines Corner, New Mexico..50 miles from any large city.  Clines Corner goes back to 1934, a veritable oasis at the intersection of I40 and a back country approach to Santa Fe.  It's a small town all by  itself; a Truck Stop, Gas Station, Restaurant, Gift shop and more of the kind of facilities you don't expect to find out there.  The place has its own name on the map.

   I never pass Clines Corner, if for no other reason than to say "Thanks for being here."  

Clines Corner Men's Room

-0-

Eastbound near Amarillo

  Ironically, the one above is right across I40 from the one that started this discussion..but on the eastbound side of the road. 

  I40 either runs on..or parallels..old 

Route 66, and this one is a sort of museum dedicated to the old road. Look at the Art Deco motif.

  The idea, of course, is to get you to stay out of the car a little longer so you really can "rest" or take a break.  You get a cup of coffee and check the decor.  Pretty soon, you find yourself humming Bobby Troup's old tune about where to get your kicks.  

  Oh, sure..even in the rest rooms.  Notice the signs from the old time gas stations that used to populate the highway.  Remember the Disney movie, "Cars?" 

  If that doesn't rest your mind awhile, nothing will.

  I used to think these rest stops ought to be relabeled "Stop and Go."  Maybe not so much after you've been to one like this..more like "Stop and Gawk."

                         -0-

  One of Arizona's Governors got in big trouble awhile ago when..in an economy move..she elected to close every other rest stop on the state's big roads.  Now, in a state full of retired people, that didn't go down so great.  For awhile there, traveling through Arizona required careful planning, particularly for those over, say maybe, the age of fifty.  

Texas Pass, AZ

  The one above stays open--and combines the "necessary" with fabulous views in three directions; west toward Tucson, south to Mexico and east toward New Mexico.  Texas Canyon and Pass are the stuff of legend from the pioneer days and the rock-bound summit is unforgettable.  This is another one of those you don't pass up, no matter what.

  
  Before you get there (going west), there is this one in Cage, NM, which combines local architecture with desert views and desert warnings.  I have been there often and have never seen a rattlesnake, but I always watch where I step.  No need to rile the locals.

                    -0-

  I think I could do a book on Rest Stops I Have Known and Have Been Glad to See.  If you know one or two I ought to go out and collect, leave a note..who knows where the trail might lead?

                                                    -0-

   And, of course, sometimes you just plain go out, stop and rest.  That's good, too..and you sure can't beat nature's artwork..either.

   I love it.

                                                              ###

4/3/13

The National Storytelling Festival at Jonesborough, Tennessee

Jonesborough, TN.  First Light

Morgantown, WV.  3/31/13:  On the first weekend in October--every year for the past forty--the oldest town in Tennessee is magic.  Suddenly, thousands of people from all over the country..the world..are there with happy grins on their faces.  I'm telling you this now so you can make arrangements to join them.

  Jonesborough is host to the National Storytelling Festival each Autumn.  The very best storytellers go there like singers go to the Grand Old Opry.  This is the big one..where they want to be seen and heard.  And the audience is always willing.

  You can get 400 to 600 people on folding chairs in a tent like that one (right). There are five set up around the town and people get there early to fill them.  Storytelling starts at 10 every day, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  On two of those days, it goes to midnight.  

  The whole thing started in the courthouse square on a hay wagon where an old mountain man told "Jack Tales" to a crowd of about 150.  And it snowballed.  The organizing committee started on next year's show..word spread..invitations to professional "Tellers" went out..and the rest is history.  Mary Alice and I started going there in the late 80s and never missed one.  I'm going back with my kids and a bunch of friends this fall, and so merrily we roll along.

                                                     -0-

     Donald Davis (below) is the undisputed "Dean" of the tellers.  His specialty is 
stories about his family in western North Carolina.  His characters are richly drawn, the stories are warm and usually hilarious.  

  Donald writes numerous books and records stories, but there is absolutely nothing like watching him in person.  He lives the stories and the audiences love him.  I have seen them pick up their traps and follow him from tent to tent.

  One of the amazing things about these folks is their depth.  Tellers are not allowed to repeat a story during a given festival, so they always bring a big selection since each is scheduled several times a day.

  Just picture..a bare wooden stage in the front of a tent, a microphone and a stool. That's all. These people light that up.

Bil Lepp

     Bil Lepp (right) is known as the Grand Champion Liar of West Virginia.  He won the title five times in a row at the state's annual Vandalia festival.  His brother won it five times before him.  So who's going to argue?

   The stories Bil spins are about his teen years with his friend Skeeter in Half Dollar, WV.  I don't think there is a Half Dollar, but it sounds like a lot of little towns in the southern part of the state and what he claims they got into raises a lot of guilty memories in anybody who ever was a teenager with a buddy.  The stuff is waaay out there and funny, Friend.  He writes books and does recordings, too..but anybody who ever saw a 17 year old with a ball cap on the back of his head, hands in his hip pockets, one hip thrust to the side..knows where Bil Lepp is coming from.  And you want to be right there with him.

  This is Barbara McBride Smith, Oklahoman raised in Texas.  A librarian in her other life, Barbara rocks audiences with stories about ranchers and, believe it or not, Greek Gods described in a western accent.  

  Wonderfully talented and warm, she's been a star at Jonesborough from the beginning.  One of her favorite things is talking with fans between shows..and they flock to her.

  She does records and has written books and there is a tent at Jonesborough that sells them.

  That's just three.  There are many, many more..and after you've heard them once or twice, they seem like family.

                                                    
                                                     -0-

     As I may have mentioned, it's a beautiful little town.  Daniel Boone had a place near here when that street was just a stage coach road. 

    If you decide to join us this fall--and I hope you do--start hunting a hotel right now.  You'll have no trouble getting tickets to a full weekend of shows--you register up near the library--but hotels are something else, as you can see by this sign posted on one of them downtown.  I think people pass along hotel reservations to their heirs like others pass season football tickets.

   You should bring a seat cushion with you, bottled water, and probably a light jacket, just in case.  A heavier jacket in the trunk of your car is probably not a bad idea, either.  But percentage-wise, we've usually found gorgeous autumn weather there.  

   I can also say that we have rarely, if ever, found a grouchy person in Jonesborough.  They all come for just one thing..and it's not to watch TV.

   There's an ice cream shop on the main street, places that cater box lunches and others that have full sit-down meals. There's a tent with everything from pizza to roast beef.  But don't miss the hot-dog stand up the alley.

Waiting to go on.


It's just wonderful, and I wouldn't miss it for (almost) anything.

###

3/31/13

No Place Like Home, Either..

Cooper's Rock Gorge

Morgantown, West Virginia.  3/27/13:   In all my running about, sometimes it's easy to forget what I've left behind.  You take for granted what you're used to, and that's sad.  But if you didn't get used to things, you'd be living in a constant state of astonishment and nothing would ever get done.

  At least that's my story..and I'm sticking to it.

  Here in these parts, we live with the gently rolling Appalachians.  Few of them top 4,000 feet.  Once, they did.  Once, they were like the Rockies--but eons have mellowed them down to vast forests, rivers and canyons like those in these pictures.  The Rockies can look forward to that, too..but no time soon.

Overlook, Cooper's Rock

    Cooper's Rock State Forest is near my home, Morgantown, WV.  When I want to introduce visitors to the "Big Wide Picture," I take them up there.  Even in the days of horse and buggy, it was a picnic spot--a picnic taking all day out and back from the city.  It's called Cooper's Rock because, it's said, a barrel-maker..a "Cooper"..once had his works near the big rock.  Certainly, he had untold miles of wood for his product.  There are also historic iron furnaces just down the hill from the visitor's center.  Iron was a big industry before timbering and coal mining began.  Here in Morgantown, glass factories were legion at the turn of the 20th century because there was an abundance of natural gas and good sand.  Jackie Kennedy liked Morgantown's glass so much that she bought it for the White House.

  West Virginia, the "Mountain State," is a mixing bowl of cultures.  Italians came here as glass and stone artisans, Polish came to West Virginia as mining experts.  Scots and Irish came to settle after the Revolution, so did the French..looking for land where they could live free and independent.  The state motto is "Montani Semper Liberi,"  or Mountaineers are always free.  People who live here take that very seriously.

  I like it like that.

New River Gorge

   The state in general is heartbreakingly beautiful.  That's a picture (right) of the New River Gorge..I snap one every time I go past.  As it turned out, we had fog and mist that particular morning, but I thought it only served to enhance the view.  I like 'em moody.

  New River's famous, now, for white water rafting, hiking, camping, horseback riding and..once a year, bungee jumping or parachuting off the New River Gorge Bridge.  If that's what you want to do, by all means, have a ball. I will stand by and watch.

   Oh..and the Boy Scouts of America have also chosen the area as their new Jamboree campground.  Welcome to West Virginia, Kids.

  Hunting and fishing are big here, as everyone knows.  My friend and avid outdoorsman, Chris Lawrence, passed along the gorgeous shot below  It sort of says "West Virginia."

Sandstone Falls.  Courtesy of Chris Lawrence

    The state was created by Abraham Lincoln in 1863..splitting it away from secessionist Virginia.  The Mountaineers never got along with the Tidewater planters, economically or politically.  Virginia kept access to the Atlantic ports, we got the Ohio River.  

   We also got our stubborn independence.  

   Fair trade.

   As much as I enjoy my travels, I always enjoy coming home again.  That's a fair trade, too.

   Come and see us.

                                          ###

3/27/13 

Home Again, Home Again..

Car Load

..jiggedy-jog.

  It takes a lot of stuff to make a two or three week road trip.  When I unloaded it all, the car breathed a heavy sigh of relief. 

  But you have to have clothing, cameras, cookies, hats and boots.  A tripod is nice, too.  There's also some Balsamic Vinegar from Tupac, AZ and some of Grandpa John's famous barbecue sauce from Green Valley.  All in all, pretty good--and I knew where  to find everything when I needed it.  Now all I have to do is get it upstairs and unpacked.  

  Many thanks to my cousin, Dale and his sweet wife, Betsy, who always make me feel at home in Tucson.  And the same to John and Marsha Taylor who do the same for me in Green Valley.  Great friends make life worthwhile.

 And thanks to you for reading this "blog."  My kids encouraged me to start it and they were right; they may live to regret it, but I won't.  It's just the thing I needed--a chance to go out and see a story, take some pictures and write it for other folks to (hopefully) enjoy.  Just like the good old days when I did it for a living..there's nothing like a deadline to spur the imagination.  

  I will continue writing it on a regular, if not daily, basis.  If you are inclined to keep reading, please do and drop a comment now and then; a kind word to a writer is like a tip to a waiter.

  When I am not on the road, I plan to dip back into my files for stories and pictures from other trips and from my days as a working reporter.  I'll let you know when there's something new.

  Meanwhile, I'm gonna fix dinner and then go soak in the tub.  

  Sighhhh.

                                         ###

3/25/13

The National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum

The National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, Oklahoma City.

Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. 3/23/13:   I've been to see the Boss, the Duke, the King, the Queen and the noblemen they serve.  I have spent another few hours with the cowboys.  Not just the movie cowboys, the cowboys.

  Here in Oklahoma City is a world class museum devoted to the history of the west and the people who built it then .. and now.  In my opinion, it is presented as well as anything the Smithsonian has ever done on any subject. It is wonderful, and I come back again and again.  If I have to stay overnight to visit the museum, I stay over.  It's just that good.

  I believe in pictures.  Here's a random sample I took of the museum's collection.

  The cowboy we know came here around the time of the Civil War looking for a job.  There were cattle in the Texas scrub and they formed the basis of an industry.  

  A lot of what he or she learned was taken from the Mexican Vaqueros, who were already riding and herding and had adopted the equipment and techniques that served best.  Vaquero..Buckaroo?  Whatever works.

  Take a look at these guys.  The one on the left is from the southwestern territories, and one on the right is from the north.  

  The one on the left is wearing the big hat that shields him from the sun.  His clothing is lighter.  

  The man on the right is wearing a narrow-brimmed hat because of the winds he faces.  He's dressed in a long duster and generally heavier clothes.  

  However fanciful it seems, the working outfit of the real cowboy is probably one of the most practical "uniforms" ever devised.  It suited.  It was necessary.

  Look at the spurs.  When they could afford it, the cowboys got not only the best, but usually looked for something with a little style.  The collection of working gear..everything from boots to saddles to chuck wagons and guns is here.  It's endlessly fascinating and it's educational.

  One section goes to great length to show you how the cowboy's boot came to be as we know it today.  Bascially, it started with the English riding boot and worked up from there.  The fancy stitching you see is there to reinforce the upper sides, and the upper sides are there to keep the rider from getting his legs torn up in the mesquite and other brush.  Further--did you know that the cowpunchers often wore two pair of pants?  They would put on a pair of corduroys for padded warmth and cover them with Levis for durability.  Over that, they'd add leather chaps to further protect their legs--wooly chaps in the winter.

                            -0-

  I'm a big rodeo fan.  Mary Alice and I used to go to the Cheyenne, Wyoming rodeo every July.  I still do. It's great fun and as important as a sport to westerners as the NFL.  

  Bronc Riding is serious stuff.  Rodeo got started in ranch corrals where cowboys could show off and have a little fun with the skills they used every working day.  Horses were intrinsic, of course.  Bull riding came later..probably on a dare.

  If you happen to look through a fence, sometime, and see an eye like the one below looking back..that's a Bull's Eye, Friend, and you will do well to go on about your business..someplace else.
                                                         

 

   But if you do sign up to ride, you can check a specific bull in the record books and see how he's done in the past.  Skilled riders study the bull..see how he steps out of the chute and how he will turn so the rider will be able to anticipate the animal's moves.

  By the way, the Bull usually wins.

  It ain't easy, I think.  I shall remain an interested observer, thank you very much.

                                               
                                             -0-

End of the Trail

  The museum is an art gallery in many ways.  The famous statue above is the first thing you see when you enter the Grand Foyer.  

Lincoln.

This statue of Abraham Lincoln is at the other end of the main corridor.

-0-

But art takes many forms.

Chief's Head Dress

Rooster Cogburn's head dress & eyepatch.
John Wayne Collection

"Fill Your Hand."
John Wayne collection.

   The movie cowboys have a gallery, of course.  They are an important part of how the old west is viewed, even though some of it is pretty far-fetched.  But some isn't.  The movies may be how a great many of us got our first glimpse of  that history.  I know I spent a lot of Saturday mornings at the Morgan Theater, watching a western, a serial and 17 cartoons.  Impressions are made in a lot of ways.

  I don't want to focus entirely on The Duke, but he and his family were very generous to the museum.  All the others are there..Roy and Dale, Gene Autry, Jimmy Stewart, James Arness, Walter Brennan, Tom Selleck.  Selleck even donated narration to the introductory film in the museum theater.

But, yes..that's Wayne's famous six shooter.  In the movies, its grip looked orange; in reality, it's ivory, turned a beautiful, soft color by years of handling and exposure to the sun.  The oils in our hands can do that to real ivory..and that's real ivory.

Main Street

  There's a complete western town in the museum.  It starts at the Livery Stable, goes to the railroad station past the saddle shop, runs past the newspaper office, the saloon, the bank and the church. 

Lock 'em up.

And if you don't behave yourself, the Marshall is just across the street

Photographer approaches the bar.

  I found the saloon.  

  And behaved myself.

  You have to see this place.  Believe me, I only scratched the surface here.  Put it on your bucket list and plan to spend some time.  It's just wonderful.

  See you down the road.

                                               ###

3/23/13

Back on the Trail

New Mexico, on the Jornada del Muerto

Amarillo, Texas.  Evening.  3/22/13:  It's a long lonesome road out there--the trails of early explorers parallel the highway.  Spanish patrols went down through this region in the 1500s, looking at villages along the Rio Grande near Las Cruces.  I started there this morning, going north, and my path is smoother than anything they ever dreamed..and faster.  I started at 8am in one time zone and ended here in Amarillo at 6pm in the next zone over.  Tomorrow, I'll hurry on to Oklahoma City for a at visit the National Cowboy Museum--a very special place.  I'll leave that story or another time, though; just know that it is a place that you ought to see.

   Turning east out of Albuquerque, I joined the route of old Route 66.  Nat King Cole would be proud of me--I'm passing a lot of the key notes of his song:  Albuquerque, Tucumcari, Amarillo, Oklahoma City.  Mighty pretty.

  I bypassed Santa Fe, this time.  Mary Alice and I always homed in on Santa Fe when we were traveling in this area--if we were within 350 miles, we went there so I could buy her some Indian jewelry or art.  Without her, it just didn't seem very appealing this time.  Maybe I'll come out next year and stay at one of the B&B's near the city and venture out to the pueblos and on up to Taos.  But that, too, is a story for another time.

  Take a look at that.  Guess where I am?   It's Texas, all right.  The old pickup's a 1931 model and..contrary to first impressions..its part of the scenery at a local restaurant.  It sets the scene though.

  I noticed that the famous Cadillac ranch is just down the road from here.  
The Caddies are still out there in that field along the road, noses buried, tails in the air.  And I saw a crowd around them as I hurried past.  I didn't need to stop, thanks.

  The wide sweep of this landscape can be inspiring and beautiful..and it can be moody.  Depends on who sees it, I guess.  Sometimes, I swing to moody.

   I don't want to burden you with my troubles..I try very hard not to.  But with my sweet wife's recent passing,   I must tell you this part of the country really speaks to my lonely soul.


            -0-



  Tomorrow..


                                                     

                                                        ###


3/22/13

Way Out in the Outback

High Desert Near Tubac, AZ

Las Cruces, NM.  3/21, 13:  I fell in love with mountains early in life. Then, it was the Appalachians, a gently rolling, heavily wooded landscape whose near horizon would cozen you.  Later, I discovered the Rocky Mountains and those of the desert southwest and fell in love all over again.  The romance has been growing for years.

  Wednesday, my hosts, John and Marsha Taylor, sent me into the outback..way back in the outback.  John has a bright little All Terrain Vehicle (ATV) called a Rhino.  Nothing stops a Rhino..nothing.  We went south of his home in Green Valley to a spot in the  Tumacacori Mountains, near the US/Mexican border.  It's public land; cattle graze there--but for the most part, it is just a vast, empty, wonderfully beautiful landscape.  I take a lot of pictures where ever I go..but I always feel there's more of the story they could tell.  I'll do my best. As follows:

  They call that (left) the Elephant's Head.  See it?  Squint your eyes and use your imagination.  It adds to the mystery.  

  The wonderful thing is the clear air and the great distances you can see so effortlessly. The mountains surround you in the distance and frame the nearby.  

  At this writing, the desert in that region had just begun to bloom.  Wildflowers were just showing color, the Ocotillo were starting to bud and the Mesquite will leaf out soon.  Which reminds me:  the Mesquite is not really native to the region--its seed was imported by cows from other states.  Their manure spreads it.  I told John that makes a cow a "Johnny Crappleseed."  

  Well, HE thought it was funny.

Rainbow Cactus

This is a little "Rainbow" cactus.  It was 6 to 8 inches high, just soaking up rays at the roadside. 

  Other than cows, we saw no wildlife that didn't fly,
although I'm certain it was looking at us.  The desert has snakes of all kinds and stripes, big cats, coyotes and who knows what else.  Humans make a lot of noise--particularly humans with machines.  So, the animals keep their distance and I have no idea how welcome we were--but we all got along.

                                      Prickly Pear and Mesquite
                                     
                                                -0-

  Of course, there's other traffic in the desert.  Being that close to the border, we met the Border Patrol.  They work the area on ATV's, horses and helicopters, doing their best to control the human flow out of Mexico.

  The picture above is not only aggravating, it is sad. Hoping to fit in or, maybe become invisible, the "Illegals" exchange the old work clothes they wear to get into the US for better clothing brought across in backpacks that now lie abandoned in the path.  We saw packs, shoes, hats, shirts..even blankets discarded in the mesquite.  We were told there is drug traffic over the same trail, but of course we saw no evidence of that.



 (Left) Lost Crutches, Arizona.

  When John goes into the desert, he rides with friends.  It's more fun that way, there's a tailgate party somewhere along the ride and, since the run will be several miles long through very rugged and steep terrain, it's safer.  We did about 32 miles.  You could get hurt out there alone, although the ATV's are remarkable little vehicles that have no fear of anything.  They can tip over if you do something stupid, but stupid is discouraged and everybody has a real good time.  At the end of the run, they literally drive them back onto their trailers and tow them home.

Da Gang

John Taylor photoing Jim Slade photoing John Taylor

-0-

  You do see evidence of past habitation out there.  There are stone foundations, dams, corrals and water tanks.  Some of the water works are still used for cattle who run freely..but for the most part, the structures are silent markers of a time gone by.  

  They stand lonely now, in a place where people lived their lives..or sought their livelihood.  

 When I stand there and look around, I often wonder why anyone would try to make a place for themselves in such physically demanding country so far from the rest of the world.

  I wonder.

  And then I take a quick breath, look around again, see the mountains,  desert landscape, tiny flowers among the mesquite...and I think I know. 

  Peace, Friend.

  Peace.

                                                   ###

3/21/13