Kentucky Parks

Michael:

We woke up at the Fairfield Inn in East Louisville yesterday morning. Our plan was to head south to the Abraham Lincoln Birthplace National Historic Site then head back north to Louisville. Maybe even catch a minor league baseball game. Everyone says such nice things about Louisville.

We went downstairs to take advantage of our free continental breakfast. It was 7:00am. After picking up the free copy of Tuesday’s USA Today we entered the breakfast room. Four men in ragged looking business attire sat at the first table. Single businessmen took two others. We sat down and were immediately caught in a barrage of swearing, self-loathing, and hardcore grumpiness. Gab’s eyes told me that we needed to get out of the city immediately. We needed to be outside. We needed to camp.

Our itinerary told us that we would visit Mammoth Cave National Park on October 6, 2005. Things change. Southward, ho. We would camp outside, thunderstorm predictions or not. When we imagined our trip, we envisioned fresh air, campgrounds and majestic vistas. So far, it has been two months of cities, hotels and historic sites. I love what we done so far, but a week of Cleveland, Canton, Akron, Toledo, Dayton, Columbus and Cincinnati does not sell out at the travel agency.

So we set out southward through the beautiful green rolling hills of Kentucky. The map seems to mark every road as scenic. The map is not wrong. We entered the Abe Lincoln Birthplace unsure of what we would see. Lincoln itinerant family’s legacy has created sites dedicated to the Great Emancipator throughout the Midwest. We certainly did not expect a massive white marble neoclassical mausoleum-type structure built to encase a log cabin once purported, but later disproved, to have been the cabin in which Lincoln was born.

I had read, recited and eventually took for granted Lincoln’s poverty. You know, the born in a log cabin, taught himself to read by candlelight, worked as a rail-splitter, etc… It is very dangerous when great accomplishments become mere legend. Hodgenville, Kentucky is extremely rural to this day. Lincoln’s family lived on the frontier, farming to make a living. The Lincolns left the Birthplace site only two years after Abe was born. Lincoln’s father had bought the land but, being illiterate, was tricked into signing an incorrect Deed. He was forced to forfeit his land and the family moved on. Life would hardly get better for Abe and his family, and we will learn more in a few days at the homestead his father claimed in Indiana.

We left Lincoln’s birthplace at 10:15am and arrived at Mammoth Cave at 10:15am thanks to an unexpected switch to Central Time. Slowly but surely we are moving westward. We arrived in the Visitor Center and grilled the Park Ranger on which cave tours he would suggest. There are 10 unique guided tours that explore different parts of the cave. We decided on our tours and asked if there were campsites still available. He laughed and said ‘of course, you don’t need to worry about that’ in a soft Kentucky drawl.

After the four and a half hour Grand Avenue Cave Tour finished, we excitedly drove to the campsite to get a space. Let me first admit that Gab and I are camping novices. We have camped only once before in the United States. Gab as a Girl Scout me at a KOA-type campground in Gatlinburg, Tennessee. We both had horrifying experiences. We did a few long distance hikes in South America but we still get a little giddy at the notion of pitching a tent. We want to experience the beauty of America and its nature. If we can do it, anyone can do it.

At the check-in, the Park Ranger suggested a nice camping spot so we followed her advice and took Space #76. A couple taking a walk around the campground just complemented our campsite; thank you Ms. Park Ranger. We are under the protection of many tall White Oak Trees, the same White Oaks used to make the barrels which age Kentucky Bourbon. We are at the outer edge of the campsite. It is very nice. The Park Service provides a parking spot, a grill, a concrete park bench and a large area to pitch the tent. If every Park is like this, we are set. Birds sing, woodpeckers hammer away, wild turkey’s gobble and the wind gently rustles through the trees. Only the intermittent hum of an RV generator spoils the outdoors’ song.

The Campsite is populated mainly with RV’s and towed campers. There are only a few people sleeping in tents. Even though we are going to be gone for two years, we seem to be carrying the least amount of stuff by far. Cars overflow with camping gear, chairs, tables, coolers, and who knows what else. Our tent looks petite next to the behemoths at the other sites. But we are doing quite well and having a spectacular time.

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