The perfect cap to the best year to date. Happy 2010, everyone!
Location: Sycamore Plow (AKA The Frye Family Farm). 2 hours outside St. Louis, Missouri.
I’ve milked this road trip enough to get a few writing exercises out of it. Now it’s time to put it to bed with an index of one-sentence reviews (with a few exceptions), which is an idea I took my friend Alex’s travel blog.
States Touched
- New York. “Launching pad.”
- New Jersey. “They have cheap gas here, and a former/current conman/mobster will pump it for you free of charge! (or maybe it’ll cost you your life?)”
- Pennsylvania. “One hell of a bitch to drive across — endless, long, long! — but the parts of the farmland you’re awake for are New England-caliber beautiful.”
- Virginia. “I’ve been to Shenandoah National Park and The Blue Ridge Parkway here a couple of times before, so this time we just drove straight through it on the interstate.”
- West Virginia (barely). “I’ve never actually gotten out of my car in any of the numerous times I’ve driven through this state, but I always find myself humming John Denver tunes when I’m here.”
- Tennessee. “It was bone-chilling cold in the Smoky Mountains so we played ‘Quick! Your turn to run outside, read the sign, snap a picture, and then get back inside the car and let’s never do anything like that ever again!’”
- North Carolina. “The Native American town zoo of Cherokee (a.k.a. “land of unsold tchotchkes”) right outside of the Smoky Mountains is one of the saddest places I’ve ever been too — imagine Atlantic City with only one Ho Jo-quality casino, no ocean, and a million Burger Kings and Dairy Queens.” (Yes, we stopped for lunch at the BK.).
- Kentucky. “Where the birthplace of bourbon and Tanveer meet. And fall in love! And get married…etc.”
- Indiana. “An excellent location to play Guitar Hero on the Nintendo Wii.”
- Ohio. “I didn’t even know I was driving through this state until I was beyond it.”
- States intended to but not covered: Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana, Georgia. “Ah, well, there’ll be more road trips.”
Amber’s workplace, the Green Building, is the first commercial building in Louisville, Kentucky to go for LEED platinum certification (the US Green Building Council’s designation of a sustainable building). When completed, it’ll house a café, art gallery, and event spaces. I took a few images from a private tour from Amber herself.
I loved the massive wooden support beams.
Personally, I’d be way more excited to come into work if my setup was like this.
Us New Yorkers were debating whether there was a need to “go out” in Nashville, Tennessee. We had just consumed a luxurious meal at F. Scott’s Restaurant & Jazz Bar where seared scallops cooked in barbecue sauce was consumed (¡nunca máis!) along with some type of ordinary fish cooked rather ordinarily. It’s amazing how spoiled you become living in The City where even the finest restaurant anywhere else in the world is, well, “ordinary” (apologies to anyone outside of NYC reading this, but one cannot tell a lie).
But the live jazz music seeping out of the bar area into the dark corner of the restaurant where we were placed with a clientele of grandmothers and great-great-aunts was good. Too bad it was over by the time we had finished eating.
F. Scott’s owner was a big fan of the famous writer the restaurant is named after, but she wanted it call it Zelda’s (which I agree is a much sexier name) after the author’s wife. However, that name was already taken. I’ll admit the restaurant’s name was one of was my deciding factors (I’ve also dined at the excellent Hemingway’s in Killington, Vermont) and because J. Kerouac Diner & Bistro had prematurely died in a car crash.
***
Our motel in Music Row was within walking distance of the Nashville nightlife epicenter, so we drove the half a mile to the famed Tootsies Orchid Lounge, which the New York Times characterized as “[a] rowdy country dive [that] has been a Nashville tradition since the days when the Grand Ole Opry was still performing in the Ryman Auditorium around the corner.” It sounded like the logical place to find the natives in their familiar surroundings.
“Some road are only seen at night,
Ghost roads, nothing but neon signs.”
-Stephin Merritt, The Magnetic Fields.
