Monthly Archives

July 2016

Loretta Lynn’s Ranch

by Richie July 20, 2016

Loretta Lynn’s Ranch
Hurricane Mills, Tennessee
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There’s not many singer/songwriters who have flourished over 60 years. Music tastes change, artists become irrelevant or burn out. The small handful that can sustain a career over half a century are rare indeed. I can think of only a few – Tony Bennett, Frankie Valli, Rolling Stones. And to this rarified company you can add the Queen of Country, Loretta Lynn. She is still writing songs, recording, and performing. And she’s 84.

Back in 1962 Loretta Lynn and her husband Mooney bought a large piece of property just west of Nashville. Actually they bought the whole town, Hurricane Mills. It had a general store, post office, and a pre-civil war mansion. With a lot of improvements Loretta made this place a home, and still lives here today when she’s not on tour.

The tiny town has been reconfigured as a tourist attraction. The old grist mill is a souvenir shop and buildings from Loretta’s childhood have been recreated, like her log cabin from Butcher Holler and a simulated coal mine tunnel. Even the mansion that was her home for many years is available for tours – frozen in time with her 1970’s decor. (Loretta now lives in a bungalow behind the mansion.)

Much of the film Coal Miners Daughter was shot on location here and you can take a guided tour of all the buildings for a hefty $25. Because some of buildings were used in the movie the interiors are “copyrighted” and photographs aren’t allowed. I snuck a few shots anyway. The walls of the mansion are lined with her album covers and photos of her children. Cast iron skillets are hung in the avocado kitchen. On the floor of her pink bedroom lie a pair of Patsy Cline’s slippers.

Artifacts of Loretta’s early life are on display and our tour guide diligently pointed each out: her daddy’s lunch bucket, her mama’s treadle sewing machine, Loretta’s only church dress. Loretta Lynn saved everything from her career and it’s all on display in the main museum: her cars, costumes, awards, and guitars. Even her original tour bus is parked inside.

Overall Loretta Lynn’s Ranch has a lot going for it. This is a big property with much to see and do, and the campground was pretty good. But as a destination resort the list of disappointments kept growing, such as the camp store being closed for three days. They seem mighty short-staffed for the height of the summer season.

Golf carts were supposed to be available for rent to cruise around the ranch. In fact we counted on that and didn’t bring the motorcycle with us. But the gals at the office issued so many ridiculous excuses that I just gave up trying to rent one. They said the following, practically in the same breath: There are no golf carts anymore. They are all rented out. They are all broken. Housekeeping is using them. You are the first on the list. We don’t take lists.

So instead of an easy golf cart ride we had to pack everything up, unplug the coach each morning and drive the RV two miles down the hill to the Western town where all the attractions are located.

I had the same luck with canoe/tube rentals. Hurricane Creek flows lazily around the ranch and I was looking forward to a nice cool float in the heat of the afternoon. But I was told, again in the same breath, We don’t have tubes for rent. Nobody has the key to unlock the shed where they are stored. The maintenance guys are too busy. We’ll call you when the tubes are ready. Of course they didn’t call. And the big inviting swimming pool near the campground was padlocked all week, too. So we just napped in the coach during the hot, sweaty afternoons and waited for the heat index to drop below 100.

Oddly feral cats were everywhere – slinking around the Western town, lolling on the mansion porch, and skittering through the campground. And while that usually wouldn’t bother me, there was an expired kitty down in the Coal Mine. Our tour guide nearly cried.

And speaking of odd, here’s weird news:

Armadillos have migrated into northern Tennessee! I wouldn’t have believed it but Tim saw a family of three ‘dillos ambling through the campground.

Overall, we did have fun at the Ranch. And I’d be willing to return if they can pony up their game.

July 20, 2016 2 comments

Valaterra

by Richie July 12, 2016

Valaterra

I spent the weekend on Retreat at a lovely farm in Northern Kentucky. I know that’s not exactly a change of scenery, hanging out on a farm, but the Valaterra property is truly a luxury retreat.

Valaterra bills itself as “A Living Sanctuary for Alternative, Complementary and Integrative Health.” And whatever that means, that’s what we did this weekend.

There was a program of yoga and meditation and a series of tasks meant to guide you into a higher state. I’ll leave the details a little sketchy because it seems rude to elaborate on such a tranquil and intimate setting. Suffice it to say that souls were searched.

Of course when you get a bunch of interesting women together not only is the conversation lively but the food is as well. We ate our way through the weekend. Truly a blissful state!

July 12, 2016 2 comments

RV Stuff

Life On Board – Part Two

by Richie July 1, 2016

LIFE ON BOARD – PART TWO

There’s more to traveling in an RV than you might imagine.
And because nobody ever talks about the little, stupid stuff you have to
go through, this series documents exactly what it takes to…

Hit The Road

Yay! It’s travel day. We’re up early and will be on the road by the crack of Ten. Yup, that’s just how it happens. Doesn’t matter what time we roll out of bed, it’s always ten o’clock when we head down the driveway.

There’s a last-minute flurry of Do Not Forgets to round up – the dog’s tie-out cable, food and water for the three cats we’re leaving behind, deadbolt all the doors, set the alarm. Got your wallet? Oh wait, I forgot the GPS. And on and on.

Once the coach is unplugged from the garage and rolled out of its carport it’s time to load the motorcycle on the carrier rack. It’s a two-person job, and even though we’ve done this a hundred times before it’s still a challenge to heave the bike up the ramp and secure it with a system of ratcheting tie-downs. A final wiggle back and forth to check the straps and I’ll habitually ask, “Is that tight enough?” To which Tim always replies, “Same as ever.”

And with that, we’re off.

Making it down our own driveway is the most nerve-racking part of the whole day’s drive. We have a quarter-mile gravel road with plenty of potholes to bounce over, a blind curve around a limestone cliff that looks like you’re going over the edge, and low-hanging limbs we have no way to trim without extensive scaffolding. Then there’s the turn onto the blacktop road that always elicits shrieks from the passenger because from that seat it looks like the back wheels are headed into the culvert.

Whew! Glad that’s over with. Now…where are we going?

Traveling Show

Regardless of our travel direction we’ve got to take the main state road out of town. It’s a heavily used byway that has become a really bumpy ride, and it only takes a couple of miles before something we’ve forgotten to secure takes flight. Drawers slide open, a soap dish bounces off the counter, the shampoo bottle crashes to the floor. Yikes! What was that? Oh, I forgot to pack away the [insert random object here].

Unhook seatbelt. Walk down moving aisle like a drunken sailor. Secure [random object]. Return to seat. Buckle up. Repeat as needed.

The pets travel with us. Well, just the dog and parakeet actually. The three cats remain at home in the garage with a giant bucket of food, multiple sleeping accommodations, and frequent visits from the neighbors. And while the cats always seem glad to see us when we return, there’s an unmistakable look of dismay when they realize the dog is home, too. Oh. You brought that thing back.

Coco the dog has a couple of preferred travel positions; lying on the floor looking out the special patented Thor Pet Window^© or curled up in the passenger’s lap. She’s a good traveler. Hardly complains and mostly just naps the hours away. Which means that by the time we stop for the evening she is primed to party while we are ragged and ready for an adult beverage.

The parakeet, Billie, has a small travel cage and rides in the kitchen sink. It’s the only place he won’t bounce out. Coming through customs from Canada several years ago the agent came aboard and asked if we had any animals. I pointed to the dog at my feet and causally mentioned there was also a bird in the sink. He rolled his eyes as if we were the stupidest Americans he’d seen all day. Back then Billie the Bird was in love with the screen door on our old motorhome. In humid weather the door squeaked and squawked and Billie would spend all day trying to have a conversation with it.

We take turns driving, Tim and I, usually in two hour shifts. By then we’re ready for a pit stop and a stretch of the legs. Maybe a snack, too. If we’re on the interstate we might pull over at a rest area (I have an app on my phone that lists all the rest stops) or we’ll look for a truck stop. We like to fill the tank when it gets to the half-way mark and that has saved our bacon more than once, like in a 6-hour traffic jam or out on the lonely stretches of Wyoming desert.

We prefer Flying J truck stops (there’s an app for that, too) because many have special RV islands that are easy to pull into. If we’re traveling the back roads, which is pretty often because state parks are always in the middle of nowhere, then we’ve got to search for a local gas station that can handle this beast. It’s not easy to find. Either the pumps are pointed in the wrong direction, or the turn is too tight, or the station is too crowded. Making matters worse, Thor opted to place the gas cap on the ass end of this RV, meaning we need to pull ALL the way forward at the pump, usually blocking all other pumps and half the exit aisle. Why they didn’t put the gas cap on the side like every other vehicle on the planet is yet another mystery known only to the inscrutable Thor engineering team.

Because we have packed food for eight in the RV we are well equipped to lunch on the road. So of course we eat at McDonald’s. Or Subway. Or whatever fast food chain has attached itself to the truck stop we just pulled into. Tim will get the gas pump going, I’ll walk the dog in the slim, littered margin of weeds, and then a hot meat sandwich will be consumed at our dinette. Usually this involves extracting ourselves from the gas island and maneuvering to a seedy parking area between semis. Wash up with some of that water we’ve been lugging around and we’re on our way again, with a change of driver.

Yikes! What was that? Oh, I forgot to put away the [insert lunch object here].

Out on the road it’s Driver’s Choice of entertainment. Could be the radio, talking books, or Coast-To-Coast podcast. But mostly just chatting. We do a lot of planning and scheming on long road trips. Solve world hunger, plan our next million, play road bingo. Important stuff like that.

We like to keep our travel days to five hours or less of road time. Beyond that and we get a little punchy and start whining for that kidney belt. Actually it’s a comfortable ride, but 250 miles a day is about our limit. And we’re slow. Really slow. Like lines of traffic behind us on a country road slow. Out on the interstate our top cruising speed is 62 mph. Not that the engine won’t handle more, it’s just hard to keep a big, tall rectangle centered on the road at wicked speeds. So we take our time and try to tuck into a campground around 3:00-4:00 in the afternoon. Then there’s plenty of time for the dog to romp and have that adult beverage.

July 1, 2016 0 comment