5May2006 - Falling Water

Philadelphia had been the planned next destination, but I decided to skip it so I would not be rushing the remainder of the trip. Cutting Philly, cut 2 days. So, Falling Water was my new next stop and it happened to be just off the historic National Road (Highway 40), which runs along I70, for the much of it. I never thought that Pennsylvania might be one of the most beautiful states. O.K., O.K., all the states are equally beautiful each in their own way. But the piece of Pennsylvania that I saw was so green and the flowers were blooming. I drove along the back roads with the windows down. The birds were singing and the birds were chirping. I might be painting a picture of an advertisement for Pennsylvania scented laundry detergent or something, but it really was beautiful and peaceful. In short, I liked Pennsylvania.

Ohiopyle State Park, PA

Anyway, I stopped at a motel in a tiny town on the outskirts of a small town. It was one of those 60's motels, but it was clean and not creepy at all. The coolest thing was that the bed had one of those Magic Fingers machines attached. This is one of those magical times where I was faced with a once in a lifetime opportunity. I have only seen these on TV, and I didn't know if they really even existed anymore. I dug in my purse for a quarter and tried insert it into the machine. It wouldn't take it. Due to my military training and checklist discipline, I checked my connections and found that it was not plugged in. So I unplugged the alarm clock to make room for the Magic Fingers and tried the quarter again. It still would take the coin. I fiddled with the contraption and found that it had an alarm clock on it. So I guess, if you wanted, you could set the thing to wake up to Magic Fingers. Now, I know the jokes just abound here, but I will go this route... Can you really imagine waking up to this. Does Pennsylvania have earthquakes? I really think that would be shocking enough to give me a heart attack. In the tiny town paper that only about 32 people read the front page would report "29 yr old roadtripper from Texas/New Mexico/Colorado found dead in Magic Fingers bed in local motel. Cause: unknown." Anyway, I continued to try and get the blasted thing to work, my small dream losing excitement. I finally got it to take the quarter and braced myself... nothing. I hit the machine a couple of times because I think that's how you fix things that are only slightly broken. Still , nothing. I debated on whether to ask the front desk about it and decided against it, not wanting to get evicted for mental illness.

The next morning, I started toward one sites that I have always wanted to visit, Frank Lloyd Wright's Falling Water. The guide said reservations are recommended for this tour, but I hoped I would just get there early enough to avoid lines. At the ticket counter, they wrote my name down, told me it would be about an hour wait and then handed me one of those blinking, vibrating coasters you get at the Macaroni Grill. I said, "No, I'm not eating here, I just want to see the house." The ticket gave me an amused look and told me I could go take pictures while I waited. So I did. I found this charming little walkway next to a "crick." Like a kid, I am still fascinated by water, so I cautiously stepped along the rocks. After slipping on a mossy stone and nearly giving my Canon a bath, I decided to stick to the dry land.

After about an hour, my coaster activated and I reported to the ticket counter for my table, I mean, tour. They did not allow photographs in the house, but it was absolutely amazing. Every detail was designed by Wright, even the furniture, most of which was built in. From the family room, there was a staircase that led down to the creek. The family room is suspended directly over the creek.

In the 30's the average house cost $5,000. The family wanted to spend $30,000. After all said and done, it cost $155,000. It still contains the original furniture, a few Picassos, some Diego Riveras, and original Japanese prints. I won't bore you with all the details, but this was definitely one of my favorite tours of this trip.

After Falling Water, I had to get back to Highway 40. Now, I get lost a lot, usually not for very long. I figure it out, make a U-turn and I'm back on track. I kid you not, I got lost in Normalville, PA and it went downhill from there. It ended up taking me about an hour off track. You can make your jokes at my expense and I will play along, but I was a tad bit frustrated at getting lost and the metaphorical fact that I could not find my way in Normalville.

This is kind of anti-climatic for this post, but I read that this bridge is one of the big things to see on the National Road. I can kind of understand why it is now a road less traveled. It is the "Y Bridge," something about the engineers thought it would be easier to build it like this than do a S-shaped bridge. The pic does not show it well, but there is a third piece of the bridge that meets at the middle and goes towards those 2 round structures in the background.

These are either Ohio or Indiana. I'm starting to lose track.

Things I've learned on the road:

1. Don't panic when it comes to the check engine light. As my cousin, Brian put it, "I think that light is made to traumitize young ladies." Do, however, panic when the oil light comes on. (I already knew this, but thought it would be good to reiterate.)

2. Follow parking restrictions. Security patrol is not always looking out for your best interest. In this case, saving $3.50 => $100.00 to get my car out of hock.

3. When it comes to motel rooms, trust your instincts. If the door chain has been ripped from the wall and it looks like a crack motel, it probably is.



To be continued...

3 May 2006 - DC - Sheila's Been Jacked!!

The National Gallery of Art was my main attraction in D.C. I think I spent about 5 hours there. After that, and what I've heard about the Smithsonian, I really think some foot massage therapists could make a killing if they were spread throughout the mall.

I don't how many of these wooden Degas ballerina's there are spread around the world, but here are two of them facing each other.

Ballerina by Degas

The Alba Madonna by Raphael

WWI Memorial

Not everything can be serious.

The Washington Monument

Lincoln Memorial

This site may look quiet and serene. What you don't see in the picture are the 800 busloads of people surrounding it. Good thing the artist/architect put this sculpture on a high platform, or there would be no getting a picture without atleast 1 busload in front of him.

Vietnam Veteran's Memorial

by Maya Ling Yin

Note the busload of people who just walked over from the Lincoln Memorial.

Detail of Vietnam Women's Memorial

by Texas native Glenna Goodacre

The internet says that the National Mall is just over a mile in length, but I'd disagree. Add that to the 3 floors of the 2 buildings of the National Gallery of Art, and I'd say I walked 26 miles, a marathon. Where are those foot massagers when you need them. After all of that, I took the half hour metro ride back to where I parked my car which was at a shopping center a few blocks away from my friend's apartment. Hmmm, I don't really know how to convey the emotion here, but let me reiterate that I'd just walked 26 miles. I'm physically drained and slightly famished. I walk up to where I parked my car at 930am and it was not there. My car was gone. I think, why Lord? Do you not want me to own a car? So, I called my friend, who just happened to be dining at that shopping center, met up with her and found a policeman, filed a report, called the insurance, the whole shebang. Her friend suggested we look for posted signs that threaten towing. Well, we found one, called the number to Henry's Towing, and they had Sheila. So, instead of going to IKEA, which had been the plan, Faith and I went to pick up my baby, my transportation, and then went back to her apartment and polished off a bottle of cheap but delicious wine.

Saturday, 29 April 2006 - Appalachians

I spent the weekend with my cousins in Tennessee. We went sight seeing around the little towns and saw more of the back roads. The pieces of the Appalachians that we saw were beautiful. You can tell that if this area were vacated today, it would not take long for the vegetation to take over the land again. Trees line every road, and where the land has not been cleared, the woods are very dense. It’s hard to imagine any frontier people making their way through this country for the first time.

As we drove around, I saw for the first time, some of the mountain people (a.k.a. hillbillies) and where they live. As seen on TV, the houses are very old and run down. Maybe they were painted once, back in the 1800s. Some look like they should be demolished for safety and health codes. Many look as if it wouldn’t take much force to knock them over, either.

This is also the land of 50,000 churches as my cousin referred to it. Every corner we turned, there was a church. The main town even has “Church Circle,” where several red brick and white wooden churches, of differing denominations, face a traffic circle that is the center of town. I imagine people coming out of church on Sunday mornings, yelling denominational slurs at each other, but my cousin said that it’s actually quite peaceful.

Must Sell Fast!! Charming 300 sqft on spacious 30 acre lot.
Great starter home - needs TLC.
Close to recreational area and many churches.

We stopped by a place called Carter Fold, which has ties to Ruth Carter Cash, Johnny Cash’s wife. The house belonged to her uncle, A.B. Carter, and housed Ruth and Johnny’s rocking chairs. Next to the house, sits a music theater where they alternate between Bluegrass and “Ol’ Time Music” at 7:30pm on Saturdays. At 6pm, the place was already filling with cute old couples, mostly in their 70s and 80s. This Saturday was Ol’ Time Music, which is supposed to be a little less lively than bluegrass. So we decided to head back to the house and cook dinner over the bonfire, (or the “farrr” as we called it the rest of the night).

Carter Fold

Where riding lawnmowers go to die.

It's not so much the FallING rocks to watch for, but the ones that aren't moving anymore

Going to Graceland!!

Thursday night I drove into Memphis and stayed in a cute little cabin at a KOA campground, which is right across the street from Graceland. When I made the reservation on the phone, and the lady realized that it was just me she told me that her place was close and she would keep an eye on my cabin for me. My cabin neighbor, who was from London, took this picture of me.

I asked him what was good to see and he told me to just see Graceland and then get out of town because the place was a dump. Rachel, my friend back in the Springs, had also told me to definitely see Graceland. I’ve never been an Elvis groupie, or one for overpriced tourist attractions, but I guess there are just some things you must see, and one of those places is the house of The King. So I took their advice and got one of the first tours of the day and was glad I did. Yes, we were hearded like cattle. Yes, people were shoving “politely” to stay with their respective groups. One group, I noticed seemed to sneer at me. I think they were a little envious because I am not bound to scheduled potty breaks. But after everyone kind of spread out (the tour was a self-guided audio tour) then things were more pleasant.

They call it a mansion, but it is really small by the standards of any star today. The house reminded me of an old plantation style home from the outside. The rooms inside were small and cozy, but lavishly decorated. One family room, which Elvis also used for a recording studio, had green shag carpet on the floor AND the ceiling. They call it the jungle room. The racquetball court, in the back yard, has been transformed to house the number one records and the flashy costumes from the Vegas years.

After leaving the heard (and taking a potty break), I visited the Civil Right Museum at the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. Martin Luther King was killed. The two rooms where he and some friends had stayed the night before are preserved. King’s room still displays the unmade bed and what was left from breakfast. The rest of the museum is dedicated mostly to the fight for the equality and civil rights of Black Americans.

One exhibit leads you on to a bus, where only a statue of a driver and Rosa Parks sit. The sign says that you must sit down to activate the display. I sat down in the second row. Then a voice from the driver tells me that I will have to move. I kind of laugh to myself, getting the point. Then the driver says that I need to move now, his voice a little louder. Then he starts yelling at me and says if I don’t move now I’ll be arrested. Then, another voice comes on to end the recording, saying that in 1957, if you hadn’t moved by now you would have been arrested.

Another display plays a loop of a life-sized video against the white walls of a street shop. The video is of a riot in the 50’s or 60’s where fire hoses were used to obtain order.

I drove down to the Mississippi river and then to Beale St. (the Bourbon Street of Memphis) to have some lunch. I passed a statue of Elvis with his guitar where he forever stands in a position of mid-shimmy. The Blues City Café was another suggestion of my Lonely Planet guide and where I ordered a half rack of ribs that slid right off the bone.

Afterwards, I walked down the rest of the street and found a band playing in a small out door venue. I sat to listen to a little Otis Redding and started talking to the woman next to me. She asked if I’d stay long enough to hear her sing to which I accepted. She sang Ike & Tina’s rendition of Proud Mary. (both, Easy and Rough).

On the way out of town I drove by Sun recording studio and snapped a few pics.

And that was it for Memphis. On the road to see some cousins I haven’t seen in 6 years.