Kentucky

The next morning I awoke with a pain within the pit of my stomach. An anxiety gripped me as I opened my eyes and stared at the strange Jacuzzi like bathtub that sat open and stained in my cheap motel room. For a second I thought that I had fallen asleep in the bathroom, ...but thankfully no, this bathtub was in the same room as my overly soft bed. How strange.

I was confused and disorientated. Then, slowly like the emergence of dawn itself, realisation descended. I looked over at the bin, which was hidden but only slightly obscured in the corner of the room. A mountain of dirty Styrofoam stared back at me. How gross. It appears that in a ravenous frenzy the night before I had been to Denny's, America's premier chain of cheap diner. I had ordered 2 soggy vege-burgers with 2 large portions of deep fried potato-like sticks. I had then returned to my motel room where, with Rebecca I had proceeded to devour this food with an enthusiasm that now, in retrospect, made me wretch. I was in a salt and saturated fat coma, and I quickly needed to get up and do some exercise. 50 sit-ups should suffice.

We were only 70 miles from Louisville and the Kentucky border. This was a short stroll compared to the 1000's of miles that we had invested in the road so far, so after a quick coffee we headed out on Interstate 64 through the Hoosier National Forrest toward the Ohio River and the real home of Bourbon Whisky.

Louisville emerged like so many cities that we had driven through to get here. A prominent and impressive downtown area poked through a ring of elevated motorways, and overlooked a flat sprawl that sat safely within its shadow. Upon arrival we decided to limit our stay between the impressive brick structures that define the city centre, and so headed out to Bardstown Rd, a low lying district of restaurants, tattoo parlours and liquor stores. Here we found a genuine gun holding local, a civilian with not one but two pistols strapped to his waist, who was sat in a camera shop unleashing fantasised accounts of his former professional glory to anyone who would listen. We asked him what we should go and see, as we would only be in town for one day. “Fort Knox” he replied proudly. So off we went…

Bardstown Rd - Louisville

Bardstown Rd - Louisville

Never before has an internationally famous landmark that promised so much, been so difficult to reach, and delivered so little. After nearly 2 hours stuck on a congested road on which we wormed our way through a hectic and aggressive Louisville rush hour, we finally arrived and performed two quick drive-by’s past an unassuming nondescript concrete bunker. Honestly, this was a complete waste of time.

To make matters worse a light had illuminated on the dashboard of the Beast. Concerned, I quickly referenced the cars handbook. It appeared that we had a ‘general failure’ with the engine and that we should check this out as soon as possible. As instructed, I looked under the bonnet of the vehicle. This was a mistake. Immediately, my lack of knowledge about the motorcar became blisteringly apparent. It was like trying to decipher the obscure hieroglyphics of a dead civilization. There was no choice. We had to head toward Lexington, a town in the heart of Kentucky to liberate ourselves of $400 dollars from the nearest official Hyundai dealership. How annoying, especially considering that, as far as I could tell, the guys who worked in this place appeared to spend 2 hours doing nothing but switching the light on our dashboard off. I guess that it is better to be safe then sorry in these situations.

After a night in a dirty and bug infested Redroof motel in Lexington we headed to east toward the border with West Virginia. Here we found Greenup County, birthplace of the Billy Ray Cyrus’s Achy Breaky Heart. This gateway to the country music highway was our first real introduction to the traditional woodland communities that would dominate much our experience over the next 200 miles. It would also introduce us to another wonderful state park at Greenbo Lake, which was gearing itself up for Halloween. In contrast to the muted and often cynical attitude to Halloween back home, it seemed refreshing to see a community coming together and devising ‘haunted’ trails through this beautiful woodland.

Greenbo was indeed an idyllic place to spend the night among its free roaming deer and self-made festive decorations, which swung from trees in the evening breeze.

This really was the perfect antidote to the disappointment of Fort Knox and Lexington.

Forgotten House - Greenup County

A Deer Saying Goodnight - Greenup County

© All Images By Paul