The Penn Store - More Than Meets the Eye

In what is today an out of the way destination stands the Penn Store. In family ownership since 1850 when Gabriel Jackson Penn purchased the store, the Penn Store has remained the longest standing single family owned business in America. Jeanne Penn Lane is the current owner, an art major and song writer who once lived in Nashville, TN. She is an amazing woman with wonderful stories. When the store was built, c 1845, it sat at the intersection of two waterways, accommodating horse travel. Today both of those streams are nearly dry from ongoing drought. The floor is uneven, the shelves cluttered, and candy is still sold in jars. Apart from the unusualness, travelers can still find Pringles and a Coke. What makes the Penn Store unique-chairs. Jeanne told a story of a tourist, a little girl. She came to the door and looked in and then ran back to her car. Moments later she reappeared with her father affirming "see this isn't a store, it has chairs".

Well of course. The corner store was a place to go for conversation, especially in this part of Kentucky. When news spread people came to the corner store -- the Penn Store -- to talk about it. Decisions that would affect the entire town were made right there at the Penn Store.

Continuing tradition, the second and third Sunday's the Penn Store features the only live entertainment in Gravel Switch, KY with gut bucket music on the second Sunday and poetry and gossip on the third.

To listen, click here.
To "virtually" visit, click here.

When in Kentucky, take the time to drive to Gravel Switch and visit the Penn Store, where you can get a Bologna sandwich for a dollar and storey telling for an hour. It is definitely worth it!

A Tribute to Sam

My little man! He has been my photo model during this trip. He thoroughly enjoys the hiking, the swimming, and the camping. He has his kingdom on his bed in the car. He has been through it all!

With barely a day into the trip he chases off after a coyote. Just a week later steps on a rattle snake and survives without being bitten. But the latest - he's been skunked! Soaked in tomato juice, Sam sports a pink hue and odor repellent only I can stand! Here's his tribute.

With scant a moments notice he's gone
His burnt orange curly coat disappearing
Against the fallen leaves on the forest floor
Tree trunks in density too thick
To see the North Carolina sky through the woods
His faint bark pierces the thick humid air
I sprint to no avail after my hurried furry friend
Knowing I must stop to whistle

...whistle...whistle...Sam

Reunited we share the last few drops from the water bottle
Leash up and continue our walk
Through the Great Smoky Mountains

Trailers for Sale or Rent...

Three years after devastating hurricane Katrina wiped out the gulf coast thousands and thousands of FEMA trailers sit empty, unable to sell, unable to rent, unable to provide shelter to those still tent-bound victims of Katrina and the newly displaced hurricane victims in southern Texas with homes lost to this year's hurricane Ike.

Purchased with appropriated funds by FEMA, a division of Homeland Security, these trailers are now guarded around the clock by staff from Homeland Security. After victims received these trailers (for free) complaints arose of formaldehyde, a cancer-causing gas found in composits, such as the plywood used to construct the trailers. Read MSNBC's report here. FEMA issued a release on formaldehyde, click here, and an interesting website, Homeland Stupidity, was also found on the subject.

Katrina's wake of devastation is seen throughout the gulf coast still today. Many residents simply never came back with barely boarded together homes, no roofs or "blue roofs" (tarps). Other victims live in FEMA trailers or tents. There are more foundations and rubble than people along the gulf coast. After the hurricane that just came through this year the beaches are all closed as more and more trash piles up on the sand.

Martin's the only stop worth making in Asheville, NC

Martin's, home of the square pizza, is the only stop worth making in Asheville. Located at the 40/240 interchange, Martin's sits in the very corner of a strip mall near the Dress Barn with loads of icicle lights hanging from its ceiling lighting the place up like a Christmas movie. Two absolute musts off this menu are the Greek salad and Jose's Penne. Positively the best Greek salad I have ever tasted--it's in the dressing and the freshly shredded feta cheese. Jose's Penne has a kick that can't be beat. Thinly sliced Roma tomatoes and jalapenos dressed in Alfredo sauce and tossed with penne, umm, ummm, ummmm! The owner is a northern transplant from Maryland where he owned an Italian restaurant employing mostly Hispanics. Jose, presumably, made this pasta dish up north. According to the owner (Martin?), his staff raved over the penne and gobbled it up. Finally, he decided to put the dish on the menu and, when moving south, he brought the dish with him!

Of the eleven states I've been to so far, this restaurant is the only place with a huge "Now Hiring" sign in the window. I'm telling you, it's Jose's Penne!

Drowned Rats

Creek outside Bongo Billy's with an obstacle course set up through the water.

Like drowned rats flocking from flooded sewers, dirty campers stream into Bongo Billy's, Salida, Colorado's local institution. Unseasonal fall rainstorms sent us inside to dry out otherwise Bongo's would be catering to its everyday 60's-something crowd talking national politics and forming knitting circles around the large circular corner table. One weary camper dries out and awaits a package being delivered to the Lutheran Church--new biking shoes. He is riding his bike across the country. In the early weeks of his travels his bike was stolen. Undeterred he purchased a new mountain bike, donned on some Vans shoes and has been peddling west ever since. Another camper lives in the hills above Salida after selling his house. He will be purchasing land very soon to build an eco-friendly house of unknown design.

But wait, the sun appears, and in a moment we are all gone.

Geocaching: Not Your Everyday Hobby

"Hi there" came a voice from the neighboring camp as John, Susan and their dog Butch piled out of an old truck with a fishing boat tied to the top. Of course Sam is set in motion and Butch and Sam proceed with the butt-sniff, a ritual greeting dance for dogs, while John, Susan and I get acquainted using the more civilized handshake approach. John and Susan were on the hunt for a geochache. Scattered by the thousands world wide are old army ammo boxes with official geocache stickers plastered on the sides tucked under rocks or hidden in trees located using GPS coordinates.

The irony of this chance encounter with John and Susan on their modern day scavenger hunt is that John was born and raised in Nevada City, California and he and Susan still live there today; Nevada City is my hometown.

Just outside of Leadville, Colorado at the May Queen campground on Turquoise Lake is a geocache with John and Susan's signature.

Is there a geocache in your backyard?

Corn

Rows of corn bordered by sunflowers.

Images of beautiful spring skiing days in Tahoe come to mind when I think of corn, but for the Kansas farmer that is not the case, definitely not the case.

A Kansas farmer may own a whole section (640 acres) filled with corn as far as the eye can see with the land worth barely a few hundred thousand dollars. He meticulously tends to his crop ensuring proper watering, feeding, and de-bugging so that come fall we can buy three ears of corn for a buck. But to the Kansas farmer that is his annual salary and not quite a buck for three ears of corn. He first must pay the for farm, pay for the help, pay for the trucker to bring the corn to the store, pay to till, to plant, to water, to feed, to de-bug.

While the east and west coasts get all the glory, there is no doubt that America's heartland sustains this country. So on your way to the largest ball of twine (also a Kansas sight to see) thank our farmers, stay awhile, and enjoy the corn.

Early morning light shining on Kansas (looking west towards the full moon)

The Largest Ball of Twine

Behold fair readers, it exists! The largest ball of twine with Sampson readily available to help indicate size!

Stealing Showers

Every so many days the stink catches up with me. To be honest I get used to the smell, it's my hair-stringy, oily, flat. The stealing showers concept started in Leadville where 4 days of camping and super oily flat hair drove me into the swim center. Sneaking into the ladies locker room unnoticed, a quick shower and blow dry and I was on the road in no time!

My favorite stolen shower was along this incredible creek -- one cheer for environmentally friendly soap! Thank you High Plains Drifters. (I was seen naked by neighboring horses!)

The difference between Montana, Wyoming & Colorado

Latitude. I know what you're thinking, duh? But there are distinct differences as you change latitude. Think Jimmie Buffet for a moment--changing attitudes, changing latitudes--or however the words go. This is so true for animals! Montana has scary animals that eat you whereas those in Colorado run from you. Wyoming features choruses of coyotes, actually quite lovely in song, scary with Sam. Other subtle differences in latitude include tree lines. In Montana your trees stop at about 10,000' and in Colorado there are forests up to over 11,000' and I'm not sure what happened to Wyoming and its trees. Let's focus on rocks for a moment. Rocks in Montana tend to be a little more crumbly that in Colorado and Wyoming. Let's just say you can definitely pull over along the roadside for some easy bouldering. Why? Here's my biology degree at work (keep in mind I'm not a geologist, so if there is a geologist reading this, please feel free to jump in). Freeze-thaw. In Montana there is ice and much colder temperatures than where I am in Colorado. Water squeezes into the cracks and crevices of the rocks and slowly begins the freeze-thaw cycle, crumbling bits and pieces of granite into DG, decomposed granite.

Split Rock, Wyoming rest stop

As my friend Bob from Lander points out, until proven otherwise, one must believe the story put forth.