And Then There Were Four

And now just four days remain. We’ve been on the move the last few days, covering five states in three days: New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Tennessee. In Oklahoma we met two previously unmet cousins for a great dinner, the prelude to meeting my first cousin Valerie in Cincinnati later today. In Arkansas we got a tour of the incredible John Rogers Photo Archive, the largest photo collection in the world (and growing more massive all the time, including the recent addition of over 1,700 linear feet of images from the Miami Herald. In Memphis we did something we’ve been looking forward to all trip: eating real barbecue. We solicited opinions all over the country about where to get the best barbecue, and the vote was split between Rendezvous and Corky’s. Corky’s was a more convenient location—not far from where Linda had dialysis—so we went with that for dinner on Wednesday. We liked it so much that we went back for lunch yesterday. Though Linda loved the dry rub on the little rack of ribs she devoured, we wound up buying four bottles of their original barbecue sauce to take home. And the lemon icebox pie was delicious, too. So Corky’s gets our vote if you’re taking a survey.

It was very muggy when we got to Nashville yesterday afternoon, temperature in the high 80s and humidity no doubt higher, so we didn’t walk around the “music city” center of town. But I did find a parking spot in the shade across the street from the Ryman Theater, where Linda could be reasonably comfortable while I bopped around the area taking photos. There was a bluegrass festival going on, and I got several good shots of musicians old and young lugging their instruments to various gigs and events, from an elderly man with a banjo case slung over his shoulder to a 20ish kid and his bull fiddle case. Along Lower Broadway is a string of clubs where country music was pouring forth from every doorway, with the bands on stages just inside the front door to lure passersby inside. It reminded me of Bourbon Street in New Orleans, and even though I’m not a country music fan, my soul was gladdened at so much music being made in public in the middle of the afternoon.

We drove around Nashville for an hour or so, taking in some of the neighborhoods as well as the Bicentennial Park with its terrific views up the hill to the state capital. Nashville captivated us in a way that Memphis did not. In the latter city, we drove out to Graceland but weren’t up for a big walking tour and didn’t feel like paying $10 for parking just for a glimpse at the mansion. We saw his two airplanes from the road, but wound up getting much more enjoyment from a nearby neighborhood (including Tranquil Lane) with some beautiful stone work and mailboxes embedded in brick.

It was rush hour when we left Nashville and it looked like we’d get stuck in a big traffic jam, but I guessed right on taking Rosa Parks Boulevard as an escape route, bypassing the worst of the jam and getting on I-65 heading north. We drove about 100 miles and have stopped here in Cave City, Kentucky, where it rained all night but we didn’t care. After the long drives of the past few days, I slept ten hours, and Linda outdid me. We had skipped dinner but didn’t care, still stuffed from Corky’s. It rained all night and I heard thunder on and off, but Linda didn’t hear a thing. We must have needed the rest, and now we’re geared up for the final push—a relaxing day today with my cousin in Cincinnati, Linda’s final dialysis “on the road” tomorrow morning in Cincy, followed by a full-afternoon drive to reach our friends Jan and Judy Finkel for more relaxation in western Maryland. That will leave the final day on Monday, as we begin October by finishing what we began the first day of September—the greatest trip we’ve ever taken.