Rocking-and-Rolling through Kentucky

After our skilled loitering episode in the restaurant, we picked up our freshly installed sparkplug rig.   Our “test drive” ended up taking us unexpectedly from Wilmington, Ohio to Louisville, Kentucky.  Such is the freedom of a home with wheels and a trip without itinerary…oh, and the beauty of the correct fix on a 37 year old engine. 

At first we thought we might stay in another Walmart  lot, or even an upgrade to campground in Cincinnati, OH.  However, once we stopped there to check the map, we found that our city navigating skills simply weren’t jiving nor were we feeling much like anymore white-knuckle driving to figure it out.  While the large city-ness of Cincinnati was intriguing, it wasn’t enough to keep us there, so we continued onward…and into Kentucky!  And, the storm that was on the radar, never dropped a drip on us.  In our former boating days, this weather alert would have kept us in the harbor, however, with the option of unlimited road shoulders and exits, if a storm comes up all it requires is a change of steering and usage of gas and brake pedals…and boy is that ever easy to manage.

Something about being in Kentucky made us feel as if we were actually traveling.  Possibly because we were no longer in a state that bordered our original home, or perhaps, due to the immediate terrain change from flat-and-Ohio, to rocky-and-rolly Kentucky style.  Which certainly told us we were now “actually” far from home.  Miles of construction cones kept the traffic in long lines behind us as we puttered our way up each hill, only to find around the next bend, miles more of construction cones.  It was quite amusing, though I wonder if not so much for the people stuck behind us.

As dusk settled, Louisville came onto the horizon.  We had prepared our directions to a Wallyworld lot and all went smoothly up until we came upon a “no overnight truck parking” sign with all sorts of hazardous-yellow-colored poles making it clear that anyone requiring more than 12 feet of clearance “shall not pass.”  Well, we soon found out that our rig is well under 12’ tall, and from a thick-southern-drawl-spoken-young-chap collecting carts in the lot, that we should just “park behind a tree and just go with it.”  And that’s precisely what we did, bull horns and all.

We enjoyed another AC stroll around the ridiculously large building, and another meal in “the house” with a great view of tree on one side and superstore on the other.  With our new radio we even listened to country music, eyebrow-raising lyrics and all, while we embraced the sticky humid skin on our bodies and the perfect breeze slipping through the screens. 

The night brought a super-soaker downpour of rain that made its territory mark on plenty of our bedding and furniture, and the morning brought yet another follow-up interview for Corey.  Perhaps I have failed to give credit to my boys for how flexible they have been on this trip.

Corey has found all sorts of nooks and crannies for his job interviews since leaving Marquette, this one in a Walmart parking lot was probably the most fascinating (he even put on a dress shirt for it), but the one strolling down the beach or the one tethering internet from a mobile phone in a mobile home in a wooded driveway, were both certainly some runner ups.  Little do these professionals know what the other end of the call actually looks like.  And the patience in which he continues with interview after interview after interview…without getting frustrated when he doesn’t get an offer…is something I could certainly learn from.  While I’m at it, I’ll also add some credit to his growing capability for learning the mechanics of engines...not because he started out with a wealth of knowledge and understanding…but because he has the capacity to learn.  I am continually astounded to watch him take on these challenges with curiosity to ask questions combined with an abundance of patience to go with the places that curiosity and troubleshooting often lead.

And Danforth, ohh that boy, he gets a ton of credit too.  He has had his world changed constantly, from the moment he was born it seems, he has hardly been allowed a routine for more than a few days before it is abruptly changed into an entirely new location for feedings, changes, sleeping, laying and the like.  Not to mention being handed over to complete strangers on quite a number of accounts (meaning we occasionally hand our baby off to people we don’t know, just because it feels good to trust people and share the baby-soft-warm-love)…and all the while hardly makes a fuss about any of it.  Of course, he is a baby and cries at inopportune times because of gas or tiredness and such things…but I have to admit, he is an awesomely content babe and we couldn’t have done this type of trip if he weren’t so.

And, while I’m at it, I give myself a pat on the back as well.  For the challenge of the post-partum recovery combined with the continually changing world around me.  People have been so generous to welcome us into their homes and beds, but it actually ends up making my world more chaotic with managing piles of family belongings trying to create a sense of home through order.  This trip has certainly taught me, that home is Corey, Danforth and I.  The stuff just helps us thrive a bit more comfortably. To not base my sense of settledness in the organizational order of those things has been one of the biggest challenge of my life. Seriously.  When all my instincts and hormones are telling me “nest, nest, nest…make a nest for you and your family!”, and then deny those urges, is something that demands some seriously peaceful resistance.  I’d say I’ve done better coping with such mass amounts of changes than during any other stage in my life thus far, and that is noteworthy in my opinion.

Back on the road…

We left the misty morning behind and continued onward towards Mammoth Cave National Park.  Pulling into our first campground experience of the trip, we found a deserted, off the beaten path sort of looking place.  Small stone cabins lined up on the edge of a grassy field with a few somewhat permanently-parked looking trailers/RVs, and the good ole southern stoop/shack combo.  This one didn’t make it into the Wodall’s RV guide for reasons we could see…and for those very same reasons, we were feeling in the right place.

The rain seemed to flirt with the idea of coming down, but we decided to go ahead with a long bike ride to the Visitor Center of the national park.  Just as we finally had the diaper/water carrying bag packed and hopped on our bike seats…it began.  For a second we reconsidered the idea. But you know what, we decided to be us for a change and not over think spontaneous urges (which often happens when dealing with a 2 month old person), and did it anyways.  Figuring a bit of a natural shower couldn’t harm us after two solid days of sticky skin.  The rain only lasted long enough to give our eyes a squinty introduction to the ride, but soon stopped and allowed us to have a wonderful 10 mile bike ride through winding roads and farmland to the visitor’s center and back.  There is nothing that quite allows you to fully take in the scenery as an open-air seat on wheels, and we were feeling observant, foreign and incredibly free.

One successful day led into another, and the following day we also attempted some “risky” business with a two hour cave tour.  Now, this could have gone two opposing directions, and to my delight (oh the things parents delight in), Danforth fed AND filled his diaper moments before stepping out of “the house” to head to the tour group.  Not only that, but he was ready for a nap!  These things meant, that for the whole “spelunking” (in the mildest form) experience, Danforth tucked into my chest in the front carrier, didn’t make a peep other than his contented sleep sighs and coos, didn’t need fed, and wasn’t stuck in a full diaper.  Our “worst nightmare” of a discontent baby’s cries echoing off the cave walls in the center of a tour group giving us the “fix your kid” stares….didn’t happen in the least, AND we were able to take in the awe-striking scenery of rocky caverns, stalagtities/mites, and other such natural formations that cause humans to feel dwarfed by comparison. 

Mammoth Caves is the longest known cave in the world with more than 400 miles of passageways.  We found it difficult to wrap our minds around how deep under the earth we were as we entered into the dream-like imagery of a whole other sphere. Like any tour, they kept the herd of us moving forward and the spots we’d like to spend the most time inevitably get the least time, but was beautiful no less, and leaves us with the memory of a truly astounding place on (under) earth.

The evening was another quiet calm one, until I had an emotional tear meltdown realizing I momentarily missed the selfish life where I could handle things on my own terms, and even throw mini-tantrums.  Of course, I rationalized it away quickly knowing that “there is a way that seems right to man, and in the end thereof is death” is a Truth that has refined my soul over the past two years into a state of health more than it has ever been.  However, even when having the self control to not loose control, and great beautiful reasons and people not to….there are always those moments where one misses the former life’s reactions.  It was short lived, and handled patiently by Corey and sleeping Danforth, and soon we were on our way to appreciating our life together again.   Just figured I’d throw it in there, more than anything, as a reminder to myself of my very humanness and continual need for growth even in the midst of an extremely blessed and fortunate life.  Amazing what trying to floss and look for eye drops in a tiny crammed place, with a crying demand for milk filling the background, can do to bring oneself to deeper places of appreciation and humility.

Well, as of this moment, we are both currently sipping warm beverages on this chilly Kentucky morning, and Danforth fills the quietness of the morning with his usual first-thing-in-the-day-grunts-and-wiggles and his first-of-many-hiccups-of-the-day. The road is pointing us towards Nashville, Tennessee...and we haven’t got a clue what we’ll do there, but we hear it’s great.

Until then,

M

^^Corey thought "readers" might appreciate some of the settings in which I write, so here's a sneak peak into the other side of the screen ;)