KY

Mammoth Cave National Park
Cave City, Kentucky

We like touristy fun. Can’t help it, it’s a cheap thrill. Old-timey tourist attractions are the best. The splendor of Nature is preferred. Local oddities down a country road where we can easily ride the motorcycle. And all at our own pace, unhurried and rambling about on a whim. Pretty much the opposite of Disney World and ocean cruise vacations.

Here in Cave City, on the fringes of Mammoth Cave, we found just the right mix of ticky-tacky tourist stops and outstanding natural caverns. The local attractions were probably in their prime back in the 60’s and now sport a well-worn patina from decades of entertaining tourists. However, the multiple cave attractions in the area have steadily improved their presentation over time, some hosting visitors since the 1890’s. 

We’ve spent the long holiday weekend exploring, and here are the highlights of our adventures: 

Mammoth Cave

This large national park is accustomed to crowds. There’s ample parking with attendants directing traffic, a hotel and restaurant on site, and a hefty visitor center bustling with helpful rangers. We arrived for a cave tour early in the morning and the place was already packed. Multiple tours with various levels of exertion are offered, and the rangers are careful to explain how many stairs must be surmounted and whether your hip replacement can handle the workout. We opted for a self-guided tour through the main chamber rooms, skipping the long wait and lingering as much as we liked. It was a good choice, as we had the place nearly to ourselves and we dawdled in the cool cavern air a good long time.

The main chamber rooms are gigantic, immense, and dizzily tall. This is the prime feature of the front section of Mammoth Cave – enormous limestone rooms which are void of any formations, like stalactites. The space is so large that pictures are useless. It’s a place that is better felt than photographed.

Rock Shops

Since Mammoth Cave is the main attraction in these parts, everything around here is devoted to Rocks. There are rock shops on every corner, in every barn, and all the restaurant lobbies. What kind of rocks, you ask? Anything that’ll make a buck – from pricey fossils and geodes to colored glass trinkets and marbles.

Onyx Cave

Over in Cave City we found the smaller and more intimate Onyx Cave. Privately owned and wet with natural springs, it hosts some unusual curtain formations and rust-colored stalactites. Our tour guide, Missy, was a geologist and she gave a lively account of Kentucky’s 4000+ caves. It’s her personal goal to visit them all.

The Olde General Store

Owner Leroy Alvey has spent a lifetime amassing a collection of old-time implements and items. If it’s rusty or dusty, it’s here at the General Store. His motto: This is no museum. This junk is for sale! Guarantee you’ll find at least one item you recognize – hey, I have that!

Guntown Mountain

Back when Tim was a kid, Guntown Mountain was the place to go. It was a wild west tourist town located on a hilltop, replete with dance hall girls and gun-toting sheriffs. The saloon served sarsaparilla sodas and a shoot-out in the street was performed several times a day. You arrived via a chair lift to the top of the mountain, or for the more faint of heart a shuttle bus clambered slowly up the back.

Of course we had to visit so Tim could relive his best childhood memories. The parking lot seemed a bit empty for a holiday weekend, and when I bought the entrance tickets the gal told me, “It’s just a ride up and a look around.” She even repeated it, but I didn’t understand until we exited the chair lift at the top.

The place was deserted. No dance hall girls. No sarsaparilla. Just a bunch of derelict buildings with mouse droppings in the corners. Turns out the park was recently sold and the new owners opened the chair lift just for this weekend. We strolled around anyway, with Tim recounting stories of how lively and fun the place used to be. Nowadays it’s “just a ride up and a look around.”

Diamond Caverns

We ended our weekend at the splendid Diamond Caverns, a privately owned attraction within the national park boundaries. This was the best cave yet, with excellent formations and pools, well placed lighting, and surprising turns and twists that made the walk even more interesting. This long-running cave tour (over 150 years!) is certainly the gem of the area, and highly recommended.

Jellystone Resort
Cave City, Kentucky

It’s Memorial Day weekend and we’ve traveled a couple of notches south to relax near Mammoth Cave National Park. The national park offers only primitive campsites, which means no electricity (horrors!) so we are staying a few miles down the road at an RV resort. In this part of the country, the term “RV Resort” is loosely applied and commonly means a giant family playground with lots of places to plug in a trailer. We’ve encountered this type of campground before, so a full description of this unique kind of property is hitherto presented.

When camping at a huge family campground without the requisite family in tow, it helps to lower expectations and keep a good sense of humor at the ready. With a name like Jellystone Campground, you pretty much know what’s going to be in store for the weekend. Right, Boo Boo?

We arrived early Friday afternoon and there were already several campers lined up at the entrance. Standing under a blue and white umbrella, smiling and freckled attendants helped us check in. They passed us a map of the property (130 campsites plus 70 cabins), a list of rules and regulations (pets on leash, proper swimwear), a program of holiday events (all you can eat waffle breakfast at the ranger station) and two bright orange wristbands to be worn at all times (which were promptly tossed into the bottom of my purse).

The entrance road winds up a small hill toward a wooded area. At the top is a large camp store and concession and several activity pavilions. We passed by three pools, a water slide, miniature golf course, driving range, horseshoe pits, and the Jumping Pillow which is a brightly colored inflated mattress the size of a small lagoon. I can happily attest that it offers a dizzying bounce which must performed barefoot.

The campground sprawls downward from the hill in a befuddling jumble of winding roads, cul-de-sacs and circles. Some streets are paved, some are gravel, and cabins and campsites are mingled together in fuzzily outlined sections. Betwixt and between are shady green areas that sport candy-colored playgrounds and bathhouses. Added to this helter-skelter layout are 200 camping families and all the accessories and accoutrements they can possibly carry with them.

There’s cars and trucks, motorcycles and bicycles, volleyball nets, corn hole frames, barbeques, pool floats, lawn chairs and hammocks, awnings and canopies, toys and tools, fire pits and wood, picnic tables and coolers, and lines of wet bathing suits and towels strung between anything vertical. Trailers and motorhomes are parked at odd angles, tents are pitched at random, cabin renters loll on the porches, and dogs of all sizes are leashed to any fixed object. And everywhere are electric golf carts, which can be rented at the ranger station.

For these few days, Jellystone Campground becomes a city of weekend refugees. A conclave of purposefully transient people, peacefully going about the business of summer recreation. And amidst this jumble of trailers and tents a friendly community forms. People wave as they pass by, share a marshmallow over a fire, or help to fix a fussy leveler jack, Kids roam freely and unsupervised – come back when you’re hungry – exploring and playing in groups with cousins or friends. And at night everyone quiets down and tucks in early after a busy fun-filled day.

It’s really remarkable. And yet in a way, this is how it’s is supposed to be. Safe, secure, and peaceful in the company of strangers. The park is well patrolled, the gates are locked after dark, and only campers have the right to be here. This is typical of the family-fun camping resorts to be found in the Midwest. And since we’re here, we’ll enjoy it.

 Camp Life

Kentucky Horse Park
Lexington, KY 

Woke up at two this morning. Two degrees that is.
Whoo-boy it’s cold here!

Kentucky Horse Park
Lexington, KY

 Hey – there’s some world class museums here! We thought we’d run through a few today, but our first stop at the International Horse Museum was so fascinating we stayed there all afternoon.

Kentucky Horse Park
Lexington, KY

Happy New Year – Chinese Year of the Horse.

On this crisp new day, under clear bright skies, we walked the Horse Park for several hours. There’s much to explore here, and being a holiday we had the place to ourselves.

Kentucky Horse Park
Lexington, KY

We broke with tradition and headed out in the motorhome on New Year’s Eve to find frosty adventure. What better way to go Out With The Old and In With The New!

 Arrived at Kentucky Horse Park in time for a brisk afternoon walk, and had the pick of the campground for parking. There’s snow in the forecast which has kept the faint of heart at home, but we are well prepared with extra blankets and plenty of provisions. 

Pope Lick. Funny name. Great park.

About this time of year we start missing our little coach. The RV has been winterized, which means it’s sitting lonesome in the bay at the storage place with non-toxic antifreeze in the water lines and the curtains pulled down. 

We usually start her up every few weeks and drive around a little to round out the tires and charge the house batteries.

Today we packed a picnic lunch, grabbed the dog, and headed to one of Louisville’s fine new parks – Pope Lick.

We turned on the furnace and dined on ham sandwiches and olives in the coach. Then out we went for a good long winter stroll along a lively branch of Floyd’s Fork Creek.

These new city parks, part of a 100 mile Loop Walk, are in various stages of completion. When it’s all finished, you’ll be able to bike, skate, or walk the splendid new paths across the entire county, skipping from one park to another.

They’ve put a lot of thought and money into this ambitious project, and over on our side of the county two enormous parks are now linked together. Formerly farmland, the city has shown tremendous foresight in preserving the land around a navigable creek with acres of playing fields, prairie grass, sycamores and tulip poplars, and miles of walking paths and trails.

Great way to walk off all the holiday calories!

Lunch Spot

You’ve heard about it, read about it, and seen it on TV…The Epic Traffic Jam.

Yup, we were one of those poor schmucks stuck in a legendary snarl. Six hours at a dead stop on the Interstate. Most fortunate that we were in the motorhome – potty and refrigerator at hand!

We were heading up north, cruising merrily along on a beautiful day, when around 4:30 the traffic came to a stop. Aw, it’ll clear up, just a little fender bender. Ohhhh…but noooo. After a while of no movement at all, folks started getting out of their cars, stretching, complaining on cell phones, peeing in the margins. We turned off the engine and waited.

Hours stretched by. Nowhere to go. Can’t turn around. No exits in sight. We took the dog for a walk. Made a snack. Laid on the couch. Watched some TV.

Every 60 minutes or so a bit of hope would arise. Truckers would start their rigs, everyone would  jump back in their vehicles, and we’d move…about 100 feet.

Afternoon gave way to night. Our side of the highway was a line of dark cars and semis – everyone conserving gas and batteries. Knots of stranded folks formed in the aisles, trading what little news there was about our situation. Surprisingly, people were pretty calm.

Word was that a tractor trailer had overturned, then caught fire when it was being hauled away. It was carrying a load of powdered animal fat that kept igniting and spreading across the pavement. It got so bad that airport crews were called in to foam down the wreckage.

Around 10:30pm we had crawled to the site of the accident. We picked our way through police, firemen, excavation crews with backhoes, and a quarter-mile line of dumpsters. What a mess!

Finally made it to my folks house at midnight, six hours too late for supper.

Epic, I’m telling you. A legendary traffic jam.

Here’s hoping once was enough!

View Map

When we are way up in the mountains, in high altitude and thin air, our GPS decides to set itself on Sherpa Mode. It carefully maps a route that is Longest, Obscure, and Steep Terrain (L.O.S.T.)

Such as today, leaving camp in NC, when a simple turn to the right would have led to the highway in a couple of easy miles, but instead the GPS sent us to the left. So we traversed the Appalachian Mountains on the backroads for two hours, though hill and holler, over dale and dell, around switchbacks and hairpin turns. All in the motorhome.

We crossed into Tennessee in this fashion, only to come to an abrupt halt at a washed out bridge. I parked the coach next to the barricades and we both sat there in stunned silence, thinking we would have to backtrack to Asheville. A construction manager came toddling over with advice. He pointed to a sliver of asphalt that disappeared over an embankment. I thought it was a boat launch.

“That’s the detour,” he said. “It’s one lane, and you gotta watch out for oncoming traffic.”

Possibly the longest six miles of my life. The “detour” was the service path for the railroad, squeezed between the tracks and desperately eroded banks of an angry-looking river.

We made it through. And I refused to drive for the rest of the day.

I took a long scooter ride through the valley, and then we toured around the village. There were two musical shows tonight, but we skipped them both in favor of a quieter evening at the campground.