American Festivals Project

From a parking lot near Lousiville, KY, I write from the land of fast food restaurants and truck stops; I write from the polluted landscape that I’m convinced is America.

This weekend marks the beginning of the Machine Gun Shootout, an event that I’ve been anticipating for quite some time.  Today in the ticket line, a man started telling me how he thought Obama was gay.  This will probably be the most conservative, white, gun-lovin’, pro-USA event we will attend.  I can’t wait!

Last week we were hosted by Laura and Ryan in Southern Illinois.  Above, an area called the bottomlands.  From the vista, Ryan pointed out an area in the Mississippi River that flowed backwards for a day due to an intense earthquake in the early 1900′s.  Despite the fact Laura developed scarlett fever the day before we arrived, she was a great host, and even managed to serve us fried ravioli–a staple food item of Southern Illinois that I said I would have to try if I ever visited.  Thanks Laura and Ryan..

dead frog, happy dog.

On the way to Louisville, Matt and I stopped in at Mammoth Cave National Park.  Despite the pricey tour costs, it was a very enjoyable time.  I was thoroughly impressed by the history and information supplied by our interpreter/guide.  We took the four hour tour, which was the longest option possible, and I thought it was sort of a cake walk in terms of exercise.  On the other hand, I had certainly seen enough cave by the end of the tour.  After the hours of relative darkness, I took a hike outside on what proved to be a very nice network of trails maintained by Mammoth Cave National Park.

One of the most interesting things about the cave were the hundreds, if not thousandths of names engraved or smoked onto the limestone walls.  Some names dated back to the early 1800′s.  I noted that the lettering drastically differed in style and font based on the date of the signature.  For example, a name from 1860 would have finely crafted, almost Times New Roman-looking lettering, whereas a name from the 1920′s would be loosely written and more modern.  One of the guides told me he conducts amateur anthropological studies related to the handwriting in the cave.

A river near Mammoth Cave National Park hosts some of the country’s few remaining rural ferries.  Why don’t they build a bridge?  The driver informed me, “I guess it keeps up the tourism.”

“This isn’t my regular job.  I’m filling in for a friend.  Oh hell no, I’d get bored stiff out here.”

In another small town north of Mammoth Cave, we met a man who was an avid “Geocaching” enthusiast.  Geocaching is a worldwide game of hiding and seeking treasure.  “A geocacher can place a geocache in the world, pinpoint its location using GPS technology and then share the geocache’s existence and location online. Anyone with a GPS unit can then try to locate the geocache.” (www.geocaching.com)

The guy we met was looking for his “treasure” (which is merely a log book with peoples’ signatures) near a cave tourist destination.  His clue was, “sit down on the second step and you will see it.”  There were lots of steps.  He sat down on almost every one.  He got down on his hands and knees.  He walked every square inch of that place.  It was very amusing.

Finally, though, he found it!  It was very near to the second step, but the cache had a magnet on it, and was placed under a steel support.  I never would have found it.  The log book was completely soaked when he opened it up, but he had his special pen that writes on wet paper because supposedly this kind of thing happens a lot.

I’m not sure if it’s the hobby for me, but I imagine it suits the life of many retired people in America.

The next post?  Pictures from the Machine Gun Shoot Out!

Signing out…