This past weekend, I went with two of my daughters to a Guns and Roses Concert in Nashville TN. We left at 1pm on Saturday. Had a meal at The Cheesecake Factory, then checked into our hotel. We left the hotel around 5:30 to go to the concert. Traffic was so bad that we were about 30 minutes late.
That didn’t bother us too much because the opening act was Carrie Underwood. She puts on a good show, but she sings mostly country, not rock. I personally don’t care much for country music anymore. I used to like it, but it just doesn’t appeal lately. She finished up around 7:45 and Guns and Roses didn’t get started until nearly nine. That didn’t seem very efficient to me, but they did put on a good show. They played until 10:30 or so. They left all their biggest hits until the last hour. We enjoyed it, but it was so noisy, we couldn’t even hear ourselves sing along. It was my first Rock Concert. Probably my last.
It was nearly midnight by the time we got back to the hotel. After a good night’s sleep, we headed home around eleven a.m. and stopped for food at the Clarksville Bojangles. It was an enjoyable weekend, not just because of the concert, but because of spending time with my daughters. Family time without all the chaotic goings on of eight young ones between four and twelve years old. Just us grown up girls talking and enjoying each other’s company.
Many times during the year, we all make short trips that seem routine. We tend not to bother documenting them. After all, a half hour drive isn’t Really a Roadtrip is it? But our lives are made up of these moments. If we only pay attention to the big ones, we miss out on the chances to share our daily experiences with others.
One of our frequent stops is the state park at Dawson Springs. Every year, Pennyrile State Park has photo weekends, one in the spring and another in the fall. Various members of our local photography club participate in these and compete for awards. However, the park also holds nature hikes and other events throughout the year that we sometimes attend without thinking of them as an actual TRIP. This past weekend several of us joined Naturalist Becky Clark for a morning hike along two of the park’s most popular trails.
We started out behind the lodge, climbed down the natural limestone steps to the dam, that creates the lake, and walked across the top. Becky gave us a brief history of the park before we proceeded down to the base of the dam for a quarter mile hike along the Clifty Creek Trail.
Since our group was familiar with the area, we tended to lag behind, more interested in taking photos than listening to Becky’s talks. She was very patient with us as we caused her to repeat several times, “Our photographers are catching up now,” before the main group could move along.
From Clifty Creek, we crossed the road and headed up the quarter mile Indian Bluff trail which, while being the same length as Clifty Creek, is a bit more strenuous. By the time we got back to the lodge, my Fitbit claimed we had climbed up the equivalent of 10 flights of stairs. The trek was leisurely though and the information Becky presented along the way about various wildflowers, trees, wildlife, and cliffs was interesting.
The weatherman played an April Fools joke on us with his forecast. Instead of sunshine and warmth, we got overcast and a chilly breeze; but it wasn’t too cold and it didn’t rain on us. The cool spring has made some things late in blooming, but we did get some nice wildflower shots and the rocks on Indian Bluff are interesting any time of year. After the organized hike, Jim and I decided to check out one of our favorite spots in the park. A small waterfall hidden in the woods at the end of the beach. It has a nice flow, at present, due to all the rain we’ve had lately. Overall, it was a pleasant trip shared with friends and natural beauty.
We tend to dismiss places that are close to us as though travel is required to make a place interesting. One of the things I hope to do over the next few months is demonstrate the fallacy of that way of looking at things. Kentucky has many beautiful spots. In May, we will be paying a brief visit to the Red River Gorge area. This trip will be mostly reconnaissance. We’ve never been there before. Years ago, we talked about making short trips to places in Kentucky and Tennessee, but then we got too caught up in heading cross country. This summer maybe we will begin to correct that.
It’s been more than a year since either one of us has posted here. That’s embarrassing to say the least. So I’m thinking I’ll try to do at least a paragraph or two a week from now on.
So, next on our agenda is the Pennyrile Photography Weekend starting on Friday, April 15th with Entry judging and awards on Sunday Morning, April 17th. We’ve participated in the spring and fall events for nearly ten years. Sometimes we missed one because it conflicted with other things, like the Combat Camera trip this fall, but we’ve never missed a whole year. This time, they’re doing online registration that makes it possible to expand the shooting hours to all day on Friday.
We’re in the planning stage for the fall Combat Camera trip. It’s back in Charleston SC this year, but we’re going to swing north before the reunion date and visit new territory. Currently we’re looking at making a loop up through Ohio toward Maine and into Pennsylvania, then swing back down the coast to Charleston.
Between those two is the Pearson family reunion in Ohio and, undoubtedly, a couple of toddler roadtrips to zoos or other such attractions. Photos coming soon.
Spring is meandering into our lives once again. It dances close, then retreats. Soon it will settle in for the duration. Roadtrips will be coming along with it. We are starting slowly by tripping locally.
Last month, we went down to Nashville for a Macro workshop. It was interesting and the speaker showed a lot of gorgeous pictures, but I wasn’t personally inspired to try. I’ve done Macro work before and I like the effects I can get shooting that way, but it’s just not my main focus. It’s closer than Photojournalism or portraiture, but I still prefer landscapes.
So my photos from Nashville are of the skyline instead of closeups of flowers. After the workshop we all went to Ray’s condo for dinner, then walked down to the river to shoot the skyline. I had forgotten my tripod and didn’t expect to get much, but I was surprisingly pleased with some of them. …
Even short routine trips can quickly turn into something else. Whether it becomes a disaster or an adventure depends on the end result. Recently, I had to go to Bowling Green. I registered for classes at Western Kentucky University there and had papers to sign, an ID to get, and an exam to take.
After a day spent clambering up and down steps and in and out of multiple buildings while searching for the proper offices that left me feeling like I was involved in a scavenger hunt, I finally accomplished all my business. Exam taken and my shiny new red and white picture ID card in my wallet, I headed home.
I needed to get gas on the way back and I made one of my favorite stops. Truck Stops in the center island may be common in some parts of the country, but they are a rarity on my normal routes. There is only one. It sits between the east and west bound lanes of the West Kentucky Parkway about 50 miles from my home exit. There is one side for big trucks and another for cars. It has the usual convenience store and an attached Arby’s. Like many places these days, you have to pay in advance, either with plastic at the pump or by going inside.
Since I was using cash that day, I took my cell phone, keys and wallet and headed inside. This is an unusual method for me. I usually pay with my card at the pump unless I intend to buy something inside. When I do that, I unlock the car and put my purchases inside before pumping the gas. On this day, I simply paid for the gas and returned to the car. I had nothing in my hands but cell phone and wallet. My keys were in a pocket. Why the cell phone wasn’t I have no idea. It should have been, would normally have been.
For some reason, instead of opening the car and putting everything inside, I set the wallet and cell phone on top and proceeded to pump the gas. When the pump handle gurgled and clicked to signal it had dispensed the appropriate amount, I returned it to its cradle, unlocked the car, got inside, and drove off. In fact, I drove all the way home. Slightly more than 50 miles, about 45 minutes. I thought about dinner and debated with myself how well I had done on the exam.
Shortly after going in the house, I started searching for my cell phone. The jacket I was wearing had five pockets. It wasn’t in any of them. My pants had four pockets, not there either. The purse I had taken with me had five pockets and two sections. No phone. Not laying in the entryway or on the Diningroom table, not on the kitchen counter or the end table beside my chair in the Livingroom, not on the coffee table. Finally, thinking I had done something strange, like put it in the freezer while getting ice for my tea, I used the landline to start calling it. As I stood still, hoping to hear it ring, I searched my memory for when when I had last had it in my hand and it dawned on me that I hadn’t seen my wallet while searching my purse…..back to the car (not on the seat or in the floorboard) and out the driveway without even telling my family I had been home. I finally accepted the fact that I had never picked these two crucial items up from the top of the car. …