A Series of Fortunate Thursdays

I have had some really good luck come my way lately. While good things happen every day of the week, too, I'm noticing a trend of Thursdays being especially fortuitous.


Thursday, September 20
While en route from Colorado to Farmington, MO, I stopped off in Jefferson City. Despite spending the majority of my adult life in Missouri, I had never visited the capital of our fair state.

It was a slow day - evidently nothing much was in session. I almost had the downtown strip to myself as I strolled along, seeking a place for a late lunch.

After visiting a small organic market, I decided on Yanis Coffee Zone, a cafe with Middle Eastern food. Their menu is posted on the wall and the young man working there noticed I was reading the section where all the hot food is listed. He politely interrupted me to let me know that, unfortunately, the kitchen closed at 2 (it was 2:30). However, all of the cold food and coffee drinks were still available. He was very helpful and accommodating. In the end, I ordered the hummus. I told him to keep the pita. I would use the peppers I'd just bought at the market.

The hummus, beautifully presented, tasted delicious. The friendly and personable waiter apologized again for the limited choices and wanted to make certain I was well taken care of. As I was the only customer as the time, he was free to chat. I asked him a bunch of questions about living and working in a place like Jeff City, with its fluctuating and seasonal population.

Shortly before I left, he said, "since you like peppers, would like some more?" Somebody had given him a bunch from their garden. He had more than he could eat and they couldn't use them in the restaurant. I graciously accepted and left feeling like that was one of the best random stops in my travels so far.

Thursday, September 27
This happened my first evening in the Land Between the Lakes.

I parked my car at a vacant campsite alongside Kentucky Lake. Nearby was a man, perhaps late 50s or early 60s, blasting classic rock and fidgeting with tarps. He had quite the setup; practically a tent city.

Meanwhile, I switched the contents of my car over to sleep-mode and pulled out food for dinner. As I was eating, the man came over to greet me and my friend. He'd assumed I had traveling companion and was quite surprised to learn I travel alone. Upon realizing this, he wanted to reassure me that he and rest of his group would do me no harm. As if in evidence of their safety, he explained that he was a local who visits LBL often. I wanted to say, "If  that's the case, you must know the area really well. The means it'll be harder for me to escape!"

Instead I smiled politely and bit my tongue.

He next told me the rest of the group would be coming later and that they would be squirrel hunting in the morning. He didn't want me to be afraid when I saw the shotguns. I told him I wasn't worried.

He smiled at this and said, "Oh, you carry, too?"

Puzzled, I replied, "No, unless you count bear spray."

"Hair spray?"

It was here I realized that he was a touch hard of hearing.

I clarified about the bear spray. Intrigued, he asked, "So you travel out west? Are you an artist or something?"

He was not expecting me to say I was a science teacher. The poor man didn't quite know how to respond. I didn't fit any of his preconceived notions.

We chatted a little while longer before he left. He came back a few minutes later to offer me some ribs he'd been smoking all day. I graciously accepted, thrilled that back-to-back Thursdays had brought me amusing conversation and free food.

(As an added bonus, this day was the birthday of one of my favorite people. It's hard not to feel fortunate on September 27).


Thursday, October 4
On this day I parted ways with the Old Dogs and headed to Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky. About halfway between Nashville and my sister's place in Lexington, it was the perfect place to stop.

A cave tour being a must, and I had my eyes set on the Violet City Lantern Tour. Three hours long, it is lit only by kerosene lanterns in order to give it a historical authenticity.

Unfortunately, when I go there, Thursday's tour was sold out. I'd tried to reserve a spot ahead of time, but reservations.gov was down that week for maintenance. Taking it in stride, I asked the ranger at the ticket desk about Friday's availability. Unfortunately, since the site was down, she had no way to see how many tickets were left until the next morning.

As we talked about how early I would need to get there the next morning she suddenly stop. "Wait. Is it just you? There's still one ticket left for today! We marked it sold out because it's rare to sell a single ticket."

Woohoo! I jumped all over that. After the free food of the previous two Thursdays, I'd been on the lookout for something. While not edible, I decided this fit the theme.

Also, the tour was a fun time. I highly recommend checking it out, especially as pictures aren't possible.

During the tour, I met a two brothers and the girlfriend of one.  All three were kayak instructors. The couple came from Alaska, the brother from Michigan, and the entire trio were headed to Florida for the winter. As we exchanged travel stories, one brother recommend the website freecampsites.net, which has proved quite helpful.

They were definitely a good meet.


Thursday, October 11
Thought the Fortunate Thursday trend was broken when I received a parking ticket for parking my car someplace I've parked countless time. Apparently a permit is now required.

But later, I reconnected with a good friend I hadn't seen in six or seven months. Yay! Also, I drank a really yummy hard cider made with hops.

All-in-all, the day was a win. (c:


Thursday, October 18
This ENTIRE week was incredibly freakin' fortunate because I was lucky enough to spend it with my dear friend Michelle and her family at Dauphin Island, AL. The whole trip is worthy of it's own blog entry, but I'm going to tell this story now because it happened on a Thursday. Also, it is hilarious.

The day before, Michelle's parents learned of a shallow sandbar that leads well out into the area where Mobile Bay meets the Gulf of Mexico. Being up for adventure, Michelle, her brother Tim, and I decided to check it out.

The sandbar as seen from our condo.
We walked well out of the range of this photo.

For most of the way, the sandbar was above water. Since few people were around, we came across some large colonies of birds. Some of the gulls were creepy and Hitchcock-esque. Others, like the group of small sandpipers hoping on one foot, apparently just for fun, were a lot more enjoyable. Eventually we reached the end of the sand. Tim elected to stay on shore while Michelle and I waded out into the water.

For the most part, the water was quite calm. However, in certain areas, waves splashed up out of nowhere. This was evidently where the Gulf and Bay came together, forming sandbars like the one we were on. Behind us, the birds were still active, while off in the distance we could see several drilling rigs, tankers, and shrimping boats.

Silent, we paused to take it all in. After several minutes, Michelle pointed out how remarkable it was to be so far out and have the water still below our hips. As I expressed my agreement, I looked in the water to my left. I saw something very large and very close.

"Big fish!" I sputtered as it veered away. Michelle saw it too and we took off running. As we ran, I asked myself, "Was that a shark? I think that was a shark!"

The race back to the beach was long enough for the initial adrenaline to wear off and for us to start laughing. I imagine we looked something like this cat:

via GIPHY

After we calmed down and explained what the hell was going to Tim, we were able to do a little research. We determined that what we likely saw an adult Atlantic Sharpnose Shark. Despite our "flight response", it didn't have much interest in us.

(Although, as an alternative interpretation, a friend suggested the shark swam by to make friends. It only turned away because the yells hurt its feelings. We were shark-shaming).

I don't know how "fortunate" this story is, but like I said before, it happened on a Thursday!

* * * * * * * * 

So there you have it! I've been delayed on this entry several times and I'm glad to be done before another Thursday comes and I'm compelled to think of something else. (c;


Edit - Free Food Thursday struck again on 10/25 in the form of dinner at Drunken Fish!!!!

Old Dogs and Honky Tonks

For the first few days of October, I took a break from my usual backwoods ramblings to join my parents for their annual Old Dogs Reunion. The Old Dogs are a group of long-time colleagues and their spouses from Cabot, the company my dad worked for before retiring. Now they get together once a year in different places around the country. For 2018, their destination was Nashville.

Earlier this summer, when my parents first asked me if I'd like to go, they barely finished asking the question before I said yes. A few of the folks going I've known for decades. Most of the rest I'd never met, however since I've heard stories about them my entire life, their names and personalities were familiar to me. For one woman in particular, while I don't believe I'd previously met her, her son stands out in the collective memory of my siblings and I because he was the only boy babysitter we ever had. We all thought he was pretty cool.

Anyway, glad to be invited, I really looked forward to the trip.

After an evening of welcome cocktails and conversation, the Old Dogs began their first morning in Nashville with a bus tour. Our guide showed us all the sites, dropped lots of names, and gave advice on what to visit later. I enjoyed going along for the ride and taking a break from deciding where to next.

We got off the bus for a tour of the famous Ryman Auditorium.
Our Ryman guide grew up in Magnet Cove, AR, a town just down the road from my mom's hometown.
She also asked an especially cheerful woman in our group to adopt her.

The tall and gaudy Athena statue in the replica Parthenon.
Exactly the type of sculpture one would expect in the "Buckle of the Bible Belt".

That night, everyone piled into cars and we headed to the Grand Ole Opry! The headliner was Rascal Flats, but I liked many of the lesser-known acts better.

There was Dailey and Vincent, a large and lively bluegrass band. The kind where all the members stand around with incredibly chill expressions while playing their instruments insanely fast. Another standout was Stephanie Urbano Jones who performed songs like "Jolene" and "Rose Garden" while accompanied by a mariachi band. Seriously, click the links. She's worth a listen.

My personal favorite was a duo called Striking Matches. In all honesty, I doubt I would've liked them as much if I'd only been listening to a recording, but they were a blast to watch. Both excellent guitar players, they seemed to have had a great time on stage. They did not play this cover of Kanye's "Gold Digger" but the video captures their skill and sense of fun.

The next day, Wednesday, I had mostly to myself. I spent the morning taking a closer look at several places our tour guide had pointed out from the bus and just seeing where my feet would take me.

Getting a little inspiration from Wilma Rudolph at Bicentennial Park.

"We're not walking. We're standing."

Our tour guide advised against Printers' Alley for reasons of shadiness.
I rather like the shade...

A replica of a replica of the fort built by the original settlers.
(All 6 friends are in this one. Good luck!)

View from a pedestrian bridge over the Cumberland River.
I watched the kayaker (center) workout for at least half an hour.

That night after the farewell dinner (a lively feast filled with stories, toasts, and plans for the next time), I finally went to visit some of the bars on Broadway. After brief stays at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge and a few other places, I ended up spending most of the night at Nudie's Honky Tonk. The band wasn't particularly note-worthy. However, they covered a lot of songs I hadn't heard in ages but know all the words to. While I would have preferred to have found a singer/songwriter playing original music, I had a blast belting out 90's hits while being trod upon by drunk Canadians. The only thing missing was my dear friend Olga. She would have loved the set list.

It was nice to to explore an urban setting for a change. However, I couldn't leave the wilderness too far behind. On my last day in the Land Between the Lakes, I'd managed to numerous chiggers, seed ticks, and who knows what else. I spent my entire time in Nashville with legs that looked like something out of a medieval precautionary tale. Fortunately equipped with plenty of hydrocortisone cream and Gold Bond Powder, I got along just fine.

Lastly, I cannot emphasize enough how nice it was to spend a few days with the Old Dogs. Everyone was friendly and genuinely welcoming. My only regret is that I didn't get to talk with everyone more. I can see why they choose to stay in touch and see each other every year.

Strange Happenings in the Land Between the Lakes

I spent the past few days in the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area (LBL). It made for some of the most interesting people-watching and rather odd occurrences.

Even now, miles away from LBL, the strangeness continues. As I write this, I’m sitting in a laundromat in the town of Ashland City, just west of Nashville. The front door is propped wide open, but no one is in sight. The walls are covered with all sorts of instructions and cautions. Ironically, as the entire store is unattended, the most prominent signs read “Do Not Leave Clothes Unattended.” Oddness aside, the only reason the emptiness concerns me is because the bathroom door is locked. I’d welcome someone coming along to open it.

My favorite laundromat sign posted under security camera footage.
I guess someone was watching?

Anyway, back to LBL.

As to be expected, the general personality and manor of the folks I met along the Kentucky-Tennessee border was different than those I encountered out west. In addition to the Southern Hospitality friendliness, I also encountered the greatest level of surprise and/or concern when people realized I was traveling on my own. For example, upon purchasing my permit, the lady asked how many people were in my party. When I told her it was just me, she stopped, and with a great deal of earnestness asked, “Oh, Honey, are you sure?!”

Sunset over Kentucky Lake
There were several herons and a few beaver swimming around. 

Then the next day, as I return to my car after a short hike around a lake, I was greeted with relief by a couple from Atlanta. We’d crossed paths a few times that day, and they’d seen me go off and take a section of trail marked with caution signs due to some storm damage. The wife in particular had been worried about me running into trouble. They’d evidently been debating whether or not to wait for my return. I appreciated the gesture and apologized for causing distress.

(It is worth noting that the trail wasn’t particularly hazardous. I understand why they had caution signs up – the boardwalk was washed out in places - but it was far from the most treacherous bit of trail I’ve done lately).

I also kept having unusual experiences in and around restrooms. One morning, while brushing my teeth at one of the Visitor’s Centers, a sturdy looking older woman came out of one of the stalls and made a beeline for the door. She didn’t even glance at the 2^nd empty sink next to me. I laughed to myself, reminded of that old “didn’t wash hands” Far Side cartoon.

About a half hour later, as I was sitting on a picnic table reading, I heard someone ask, “Ma-am, are you okay?” Surprised at the concern, I looked up to see the non-handwasher. She was an LBL employee! I assured her I was fine and squelched the urge to ask, “But are you okay, with your dirty hands and all?”

Another time, I was bathroom blocked by a southern grandma and her spacey granddaughter, who looked to be about 10 years old. I walked into the restroom to find them standing as if they were in line. However, the door to the 3^rd stall was clearly open, so I asked if they were waiting. I got no response.

At this point, the 2^nd stall became available. The granddaughter, after checking for her grandma’s approval, made her way to it. The 3^rd still open, I asked again if the grandma was in line. Speaking tersely, she said, “they are all taken.”

“Are you sure?” I replied. “The door of the 3^rd stall is open.” To my astonishment, the lady not only ignored my question, but she turned away from me and positioned her body so as to physically prevent me from investigating the status of the 3^rd stall.

A woman with an infant and a toddler had queued up behind me. We exchanged a glance and shrugged our shoulders.

Eventually, the 4^th and last stall emptied, and the grandma made her way towards it. At the same time, the spacey granddaughter came out of the 2^nd stall. Seemingly at a loss as to where to go, she started to follow her grandma, causing an awkward congestion as she was reprimanded. Eventually things cleared up enough that I finally made it to the 3^rd stall. It was perfectly clean and pristine! I told the mom with the infant that both stalls were good to go. She looked as relieved and puzzled as I felt.

As an epilogue to this whole debacle, while I was washing my hands, another woman came in. The granddaughter, still waiting for her grandma, was standing there just as awkward and oblivious as before. As the girl was ignoring the new lady’s question about the wait, I turned my head and said, “I believe the 3^rd stall is open.”

Another sunset. No beavers this time.

There are other stories of funny people encounters, but LBL was also unusual in the encounters I didn't have. 

On my last day, Sunday, I decided to make my way around the Fort Henry trails, one of those nice trail networks where a hiker can easily do only a couple of miles or meander along for much further. Since these trails are situated between the southern entrance of the LBL and one of the busiest campgrounds, I anticipated seeing other people throughout the day. 

However, I didn't see anyone. At all. 

I could hear signs of humans when I approached the campground or when the trail came close to a road, but no one was hiking. I found myself wishing some other folks would come along. Not because I was tired of being alone (the solitude was actually quite pleasant), but because I wanted somebody else to clear out the spiderwebs. The trail was covered! I was brushing spiders aside for the entire nine hours of my hike with almost no reprieve. I became covered in broken webs. At one point, a mosquito got caught in a strand hanging off the front of my visor. It flew around a bit, harnessed to my hat. I wondered how many mosquitoes would be needed for them to fly away with my hat in tow.

If other folks had been taking advantage of the lovely Sunday afternoon, the mosquito and I could have avoided this trauma. Some people are so selfish.

In all seriousness, the Land Between the Lakes was a good place to visit. The area has a really interesting history and over 240 cemeteries if you want to seek them out. And if you have a boat, there is even more to do.

Sunrise over Lake Barkley

Maybe I should get a boat. A kayak perhaps...