Monday
We had a really great day in Memphis on Sunday. Went to the National Civil Rights Museum housed in the Lorraine Motel where MLK was assassinated. Very well done exhibits and so very thought provoking and sobering. It is just crushing to know and see evidence of (again) the sacrifices and the struggle of so many people for so long and to hear on the news, as we did right before we went to the museum, of more race-based strife on our streets and in our institutions. The situation in Baltimore (not to mention Ferguson, Sanford and countless other places), now, in our day, is so very sad. The museum did a good job of reminding visitors that we still have a very long way to go. Too sadly true.
After a quick sandwich in a very Memphis bar/restaurant, we took a tour of the Gibson Guitar Factory, a relatively new facility in Memphis. Very interesting to see all the steps of the process as we walked right through the factory floor with our safety goggles on and dust flying. All kinds of people streamed in for tours on the hour every day. We resisted buying a shiny new guitar from their showroom. I have a lot more practicing to do before I earn one of those.
From the sobering, to the sublime to the ridiculous, we marched right over to the elegant turn-of-the-last-century lobby of the Peabody Hotel to see the duck march. Forty-five minutes before the appointed hour (the ducks march out of the fountain at 5:PM to the elevator and a ride up to their penthouse home; they march back into the fountain from the elevator at 11:AM), the lobby was filling up fast. Exactly fountain-side, there was an older couple at a table for four. We, in good tandem cruise ship style, asked if we could share their table. After a disconcerted minute on their part, they said ok. They were visiting from Detroit, enjoying retirement from patternmaking in a factory there. Pretty soon the “ringmaster” in his red jacket and top hat announced the rules for the duck march: stay in your seat (mean-looking bouncer prominently stationed), or stand behind the ropes and children may be SEATED in front of the ropes in a single row. At five to five, the red carpet got rolled out, and the drum roll began. An Italian visitor was given a fancy gold-topped cane and appointed assistant ringmaster. At one minute to five the ducks hopped out of the fountain and began waddling around the rim. At the stroke of five, cue the music and the ducks hop down the red-carpeted stairs placed for them from the fountain to the red carpet. Waddle, waddle, waddle along the red carpet into the waiting elevator, with waiting attendant and it was all over in two minutes. Raucous applause and cheering and then people disperse or turn back to their drinks and snacks. So weird and yet strangely funny and diverting. This has been going on for the last 80 years (this is the fourth ringmaster), after a drunken group of duck hunters decided to put their live decoys in the fountain. And the crowd went wild. So, they stayed. Of course everything at the Peabody is duck related from napkins and swizzle sticks to t-shirts and hotel awnings. It’s hilarious.
So ended our Memphis 2.0 tour, a day of startling contrast.
Tuesday (Happy Birthday, Emilia!)
We packed up the car, put the bike on the back and set out for first stop on the way home: Bowling Green, Kentucky. Or so we thought. We’ve used Lexus Inform many times and have always reached the correct destination no problem. We had scouted out a 20-mile group ride at 5:30 in that town and after signing into the “MeetUp” app, let the ride leader know that we would join them. Drive, drive, drive, still in Tennessee, still in Tennessee, wow, Bowling Green must be right on the border, I thought we’d be in Kentucky by now. We had good weather, making really good time thinking wow, we will have plenty of time to get ready and find the ride. Then, as we pull into a Courtyard by Marriott, we hear the lovely voice saying, “You have arrived at your destination.” Except that it wasn’t. We actually still were in Tennessee at some random town that was fortunately on the way to Bowling Green, but unfortunately another 100 miles away. Arrrrrgggghhhhh. We can still make it, but now we’re hungry. And out in the middle of nowhere. Spotted a funky-looking Subs and Pizza place called Tiny Town. Actually the subs weren’t bad. Back in the car zooming toward Bowling Green, thinking we can make it. A little bit of traffic heading into town, we can make this, yes we can. Get to the Marriott with five minutes to get ready and still make the ride. One guy ahead of us at check in, who of course, had issues. I look at Joe, “It’s over.” We both drop our shoulders and let it go. I go back into MeetUp and send regrets. Finally up in our room settling in, Joe says, “Where is my iPad? Do you have your checkbook?” “No.” “The safe in Memphis! We left it open and forgot to empty it!” Arrrrrgggghhhhhh. Again! So Joe made a call to the the security desk at the Sheraton is Memphis, the guy went up to the room and thankfully found our stuff, which also included cash, computer cables, etc., etc. Relief. Sushi at an out-of the way place that had plenty of Asian clients, so we figured it would be OK. It was good. End of another crazy day.
Wednesday
We had been invited by our new friends Rhonda and Richard to stop by their house in West Virginia for an overnight on our way home and we took them up on it. Richard is an engineer through and through and offered to do some fiddling with our bike, including loaning us a more comfortable saddle for me, and a new kind of pedal for Joe. So, OK, we’d love to come visit. He was born and raised in South Carolina and she in Tennessee and their hospitality knows no bounds. We were welcomed into their huge empty-nest home and given our choice of bedrooms, king, queen or another queen. They fed us a wonderful dinner of enchiladas and margaritas (or home brewed beer—delicious) with entertaining conversation, which we ate outside watching the birds and squirrels in their wooded back lot.
These are the people whom we met on our stopover in Crossville, on the way to Memphis. They spend much of the year traveling the U.S. in their “coach.” We went to see it after dinner. This is one awesome rolling house. One and a half baths. Richard is remodeling it all by himself and it is truly spectacular. We had tons of questions, most of which boiled down to “how do you DO this????” They are heading out at the end of May for a long weekend century ride in Lexington and then out to an annual “convention” of fellow Newell (the brand of their coach) owners in Tahoe. They will then tour the northwest and return in October to regroup before they head for Florida for a couple of months. We were invited to spend a week with them there. Yes and thank you!! They are avid hikers, bikers, orienteers and then there’s the trail running. I don’t even know what that is.
Thursday
Richard and Rhonda fed us breakfast like royalty and Richard perfected several things on our bike and then they fed us lunch like royalty. It was a bittersweet good-bye. But there’s Florida to look forward to. What a great feeling to find wonderful new friends.
We drove in and out of downpours through West Virginia. The sunny parts revealed glorious mountain scenery. It really is wild and wonderful. Stopped for a final hurrah in Edinburg, Virginia for a late lunch/early dinner at a cool little one-of-a-kind restaurant, and chatted with the owner as we ate, since we were the only ones in the place.
When we finally walked in the door back in Burke around 7:30 PM, we heard desperate cries coming from Jose upstairs. He had fallen two hours earlier and had clearly broken something. All of us (including him) had agreed that Nubia (his day care-giver) could leave at her regular time, as we would be home and he stays for several hours alone all the time. Well, he decided to go to the bathroom (Nubia had told him to stay in bed until we got home) and boom – he tripped over his slippers. He didn’t want to go to the hospital that night, which we understood. Been there, done that, and emergency rooms at night are no place for anybody who can help it. We knew either a hip or leg was broken, but he was comfortable after we got him back in bed if he didn’t move. Tomorrow will be a good day for the hospital.
So ended our Mississippi trip. Adventures never end, wherever we may be.
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