KY

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.

We are home safe and sound. We traveled 3621 miles in about 3 weeks, and had a wonderful time all the way.

Many thanks to our Readers who kept us company along the way!

We’ll keep this blog open, and add to it each time we go camping. But we’re going to rest for a few weeks first.

Coming Soon – You can read my weekly RV Travel column at BoomerTravelPatrol.com. The website is scheduled to debut in December, 2012.

Happy Trails!

T & R

Cub Run, KY
Dog Creek – Nolin Lake

We spent the weekend at Dog Creek Campground in central KY, on the east end of a sprawling valley flooded to create Nolin Lake.    View Map

Did Ya Know – There are no natural lakes in Kentucky. All are man-made.

There are many campgrounds on Nolin Lake, but lovely little Dog Creek is just the right size to suit us. There are only about 50 electric campsites, each generous in size, with plenty of green space between and thoughtfully angled so you’re not wedged against the neighbors’ clothesline of wet bathing suits.

Dog Creek campground wraps around a cove, and there is direct access to the lake everywhere.  You can slip out your camper door and go jump in the water.  Plenty of folks bring a boat as well.

Half a dozen miles away, motor scooting along serene country roads, we found Webb Mart – a genuine country store with creaky wood floors and old-timers behind the counter. Stacked on shelves, or hanging  from the ceiling you can find “a little bit of everything” from groceries and tackle, to hardware and clothes. There’s even a yard sale aisle and a case of dressed dolls. We bought ice cream cones and a used DVD of 20 western movies.

Not to be missed is nearby Cub Run Cave. Discovered in the 1950’s by a couple of curious boys, ownership was disputed for 50 years by farmers on the properties above the cave. In 2006, the land rights were finally figured out and the cave was opened for public tours.

This is a wet cave, about a mile long, with a spring running throughout. Inside is a delicate ecosystem, replete with spotted salamanders, cave crickets, and tiny brown bats half the size of your thumb.  The tour takes you on wooden walkways built by local Amish to protect the cave floor.  We spent a deliciously cool hour gawking at the fabulous formations.

On the way home our speed was slowed to a charming trot behind several Amish buggies. They tend to make abrupt turns with nary a notice, so keep your distance!