Published: June 18, 2009 11:19 pm      

Carrie Stambaugh: Twice the fun on half the gas: 06/19/09

Last week my husband and I used a couple of days off to take a trip to Knoxville to see one of our favorite bands, which is touring this summer for the first time in six years.

On the way there, in a hurry to make the concert (and the parking lot festivities before it), we took the fastest route down the interstate. We made it there in just under four hours and used a tank and a half of gas.

After a fantastic concert, one very long wait for a cab to the hotel and a delicious brunch at a tiny Vietnamese restaurant the next morning, we decided to take advantage of another day off.

Using the atlas we unearthed from the back seat, we veered off the interstate and headed toward the Cumberland Gap.

Cruising along the valley floor between the steep mountains, we fantasized what it would have been like to be one of the brave settlers headed into the Kentucky wilderness. How romantic and adventurous to be on one of those wagon trains, we thought. Then as heavy rain and violent winds forced us to the side of the road, we decided it couldn’t have been too much fun.

At the park, with a few minutes to spare before the next torrential downpour, we meandered through stands of hardwoods and meadows of wildflowers. When lightning chased us back under one of the park’s exhibit shelters, we huddled together reading about the history and struggle of both the pioneers and the Native Americans of the area.

After another glance at the atlas, we decided not to follow the old Wilderness Road but to continue through Jefferson National Forest to the Country Music Highway.

As we climbed mountains and descended the hairpin turns heading toward U.S. 23, we giggled at the unusually named hollers and pointed out log cabins tucked into the trees high above us. Eventually we turned onto the four lane and headed toward home.

The best view of the day came from a picnic shelter behind a gas station at the state line. Beautiful, misty blue mountains stretched as far as we could see.

As we headed further down the road, some of the sights weren’t as beautiful. As we crossed into Kentucky at Jenkins, a barren mountaintop in the midst of being stripmined stared down at us.

In Pikeville we visited my old apartment and the Appalachian News-Express, where I started my career, before getting a Smashburger and a Brown Derby at the Dairy Cheer.

Back on the highway, we called out the names of the stars as we passed by their markers and scribbled down places to stop the next time we drove through — the Eastern Kentucky Science Center, the 1850s Mountain Homeplace and Farm and Riverside Raceway Park. The list is two pages long.

When we finally reached Ashland, my husband pointed out we still had a quarter of a tank of gas left. The trip took twice as long — eight hours — but was worth every minute. As we snuggled into bed a few hours later we both commented it felt like we’d been gone for days on vacation.

CARRIE STAMBAUGH can be reached at cstambaugh@dailyindependent.com or (606) 326-2653.