Kentucky

Though originally considered too far west for us, once we discovered some cool dudes who live there, Kentucky became a viable land option. So a night in a marginally creepy (but really not too bad) motel brought us within distance of said cool dudes. Darren of the Shrieking Shack agreed to meet us in the morning, so we drove to a bakery/cafe on the outskirts of Lexington. From the moment we saw his bare feet and beard, we knew he was the man for us. Over iced coffee and pumpkin muffins we discussed Lexington and Berea, KY, where Darren and his family are looking to buy land. We discussed the local scenes and what was cool and lame about the area. Darren was full of useful information, like impressing upon us the need to acquire the mineral rights of the land we buy (or else the very land could be pulled out from under us!). And we got to meet his wife and kids! All cool dudes in their own right.

Taking only pumpkin muffin memories, we followed his be-stickered pick-up to the Shrieking Shack, where we would be playing a show later in the summer,

and then continued on to the local food co-op, where we spent much of the rest of the day, internetting, eating, shopping and chilling with Darren here and there.


Finally it was decided, after much mulling and blogging. We would drive down to Berea and check it out! The drive was minuscule (only 45 minutes), the landscape rolling,

and the arrival sunset-lit.


Darren was working with some friends at MERJ (a meeting place/farmer's market/cool place representing the convergence of nearby counties)

to set up a music festival for Solstice weekend. They worked feverishly to get a tarp up over the stage,


which they succeeded in doing, and which we rewarded with leftover cinnamon buns from Tennessee.


Berea itself was a small college town and we didn't get to check much of it out, but we trust Darren and his assessment.

Thanks Darren!

West Virginia, wild and wonderful, followed Kentucky, as we began the end of the trip, though in truth, our trip would continue to continue.


The race began to get to a campsite before it closed -- a recurring problem we had been having, and the reason for so many motel stops. With only minutes to go, and miles ahead of us, we got confused and then enlightened so drove as fast as we could in the right direction and at 10 o'clock sharp, pulled through the open gates of a state park, where we spent our last wooded night in the presence of utter silence and tree-obscured stars.
Tomorrow -- Virginia...and Baltimore!

Tennessee-in is Tenne-believin'

Asheville v.2

Boone kissed us on the cheek and our hearts fluttered, but we still had to press on over the mountains. Melanie's Minor Tissy led us in the complete wrong direction for the route we intended, but the complete right direction to get us back to Asheville for a re-visit and a Laughing Seed lunch. The Laughing Seed is closed on Tuesdays, so a walk through a new part of town brought us to Rosita's Kitchen,

another organic restaurant, this one serving southern cuisine.

Seeing Asheville again after being in Boone was illuminating and put both places in a gentle perspective -- Boone much smaller and less self-aware, Asheville livlier and more citylike.

We had no time to lose, however, as we continued over the Smokeys into Tennessee.

Cicada Season

We made it before dark to a State Park just north of Knoxville. First order of business -- a renewed calisthenics program,

and the collection of dead cicadas.




Though we haven't mentioned before, this year in Asheville and the rest of the Smokeys marked the return of the Seventeen-Year Cicadas, who buzzed extensively, flew into our faces, and scattered their bodies on the streets during our time in Asheville. A review of our campsite in Tennessee revealed many tiny holes in the ground, which we hypothesized to be cicada holes.

The collection of cicadas being complete, we set up camp while enjoying the fading light and cool breeze through the woods,


and set about collecting varying sizes and thicknesses of twigs, sticks and logs, creating a firewood collage. Heather built tents out of wood and spires of flames, which we looked at



and toasted our bread on.

The toasts were the base of one of several Road Ghost Road Staple Snacks. This one is suitable for breakfast, lunch & dinner:

Peanut Butter Banana Breads

1 slice stale Ezekiel 4:9 Cinnamon Raisin Bread
1/2 to 1 whole over-ripe banana

Several knife-fulls warm & chunky peanut butter

Balance a slice of Ezekiel on your lap. Take your already peanut-butter encrusted pocket knife and spread the peanut butter on the bread. Then, with the same knife, cut thin to thick chunks of banana, and place lavishly on the peanut-buttered bread. Eat!

"Better than an RC and a Moon Pie"

In the morning we met with Charlotte Branson, a real estate agent in Kingston, TN ("State Capital for a Day -- September 21, 1807"), who wasted no time in printing out more property descriptions than our little hearts could have hoped for. She asked us about our plans for the property, but then stopped abruptly and asked if we were "intending to start a com-MUNE". We told her "sort of" and she said she used to be a hippy herself.

There was only enough time to see a couple of properties, so we checked out one about 15 minutes west of Kingston -- 81 acres for $195,000.


Driving to the property, Charlotte regaled us with the kinds of festivals they have in Tennessee -- Corn Bread, Moonshine, Catfish, and RC & Moon Pies. Moon Pies are made in Chattanooga, and in Tennessee few things are "better than an RC and a Moon Pie." She also filled our heads with useful rural knowledge culled from her upbringing on a 600-Acre farm in just that neck of the woods. She told us to put clear nail polish on chiggers and never plant during a month with an "R" in it. She told us that raccoons will wash anything, even sugar cubes, and that ticks with white spots on their backs carry lyme disease. She told us tales of the area's coal plant, nuclear plant, and weapons plant,

and her houseboat journey down the Tennessee river to the Gulf of Mexico.


Arriving at the property, we discovered it to be lush and tick-rich,

complete with pond and woods.






Part of it was located under power lines,

but not too far from Kingston.

We were mis-directed to the next property and couldn't find it. We didn't mind riding around with Charlotte for a little while longer, as she was a gem of a guardian angel. Upon returning to her office (and allowing her to finally take her husband out for a birthday lunch of hamburgers), she offered us use of the shower to wash off our ticks, then filled our arms with bottled water, peanut butter crackers, cinnamon buns and a hug for each of us. What a woman.


The day was nearly done, but we had yet to see the city of Knoxville. So with the intent of finding the evening's meal, we headed into town. We were greeted by the Knoxville World's Fair Ball, which towered over the entrance to the city. Word is still out on whether or not it is filled with wigs.


Knoxville's old city provided us with not many food options,

including some New Jersey Style Pizza.


A disinterested waitress in a coffee house told us about an organic/vegetarian/vegan-friendly spot in the heart of downtown. We whisked ourselves away to dine.

Our dinner bliss was short-lived, however, when we got back in the car to leave town and discovered Melanie's Big Tissy -- a Peanut Butter Disaster of greasy & sad proportions. An only partially-closed jar of peanut butter tumbled and spilled all over many of Keith's possessions, including but not limited to Computer, Backpack & Pillow.

Clandestine trips to an Arby's across the street provided us with the napkins necessary to de-pb,


and the ants began work cleaning up the street.




We had done as much as we could, and the day was getting old, so out of Knoxville we drove and onward to Kentucky.

I love mountain. I love bird. I love Boone.

The eating of eucalyptus continued into the morning. We had given up the eating of peanut butter bread for 8 hours as a sort of fast, and these new slices served us well to break our fast. With renewed vigor, we began sorting the food bags,


and blogging about it.

The 12 pm check-out time rolled around sooner than expected, so we checked-in out back and made the outside world our new hotel room.

From Greensboro's Cheapest Hotel, we traveled west, taking an exceedingly brief detour through Winston-Salem and a long and stormy road around mountains & through hollers.



We ended up in Boone, N.C., where we quickly found a suitable law firm,


a great deal,


and our new favorite hang-out, beansTalk, where we continued the morning's blogging and chilling.


The rain left wondrously misty mountains (later discovered to be some kind of "knob"),


and the evening found us in the home of Jeff Deal, a friend Keith had met in Mountain View, CA who works with Appalachian Voices, an organization in Boone whose mission is to stop mountain tops from being decimated for the purposes of coal extraction.

A former mountain in Logan County, West Virginia

Jeff graciously offered us the use of his house for sleeping, etc, and we accepted. Even more auspiciously, we arrived just in time for an elegant dinner party of friendly proportions. The food was delicious, and it was awesome to meet & talk to so many cool people from the area. Boone was already worming its way into our hearts.

After a lovely Sunday morning brunching with Jeff and his partner Jaime, we headed off to Elk Knob,


a newly crowned State Park and home to many wonders, including orange flowers,


their green blobbish fruits,

& plump bugs.



We reached the summit, 5520 feet above the base,


closer to the clouds,

and in view of neighboring mountains.


While on the summit, we discovered a tiny forest.


It was all downhill from there.

We took the long way back to Boone so as to feast our eyes on all that could be ours. Along the way we met 1 gopher, 2 vultures, 1 rabbit, 1 deer, plus 5 tiny chihuahuas walking a bulldog in the middle of the road. Colts & calves were mothered and abundant.

After dinner at the local favorite Coyote Kitchen, we returned to Jeff's home to settle in for some more blogging. But not before making use of his in-house kegerator refigerator tap


and toasting our fortunes.

"To getting wasted!" "To getting land!" "To getting us!"

We spent the next day also in Boone, meeting and lunching with Kent Hively who runs Appalachian Energy Solutions out of Jeff's house, and Caroline who works there with him.

Kent and Caroline were very generous with their time and information, giving us a real sense of what it's like to do the things we want to do out here. In fact Kent is buying 60 acres himself just 15 minutes from here!

We were able to contact a real estate agent with a degree in alternative energy who used to co-house in Santa Cruz. We also left a message for Mr. Conservation Easement, the busiest man in Boone, who buys large tracts of land only to preserve them.

Just as we were about to leave for Knoxville, TN, we received word that the fabled Matt Wasson, Conservation Director of Appalachian Voices, had invited us to his mountain home for an evening of beers and fireflies. We could not refuse.

Dinner eaten & brews procured, we previewed the firefly show that awaited us as we drove along the winding mountain roads. You see, these were no ordinary fireflies, but rather rare synchronous fireflies, who flash their bioluminescence in chorus after remaining dark together.

When we arrived at Matt's house (who, incidentally, wrote an article about the very phenomenon we were witnessing here), we grabbed the brewskis and some lawn chairs and set up shop in the middle of his road facing the woods. The lightning bugs glowed green and sparkling at regular intervals as Matt's husky, Cain, roamed and howled and eventually curled up in a ball next to us. It was magical. The four of us talked politics and music and future and past until the moon rose and midnight rolled around, which is the time when all road ghosts must leave their new friends' houses. Good night Matt!


We've found Boone to be a delight and very promising. A veritable home away from home.

Many thanks to Jeff & Jaime for their incredible hospitality and thanks to Boone for being super cool.

"I love mountain. I love bird. I love Boone."
–Ben O'Brien, age 1