In Stride (Blog #568)

Today’s adventures in travel writing–

1. Grinder House Coffee

This morning officially started at 6:45, at which time I checked out of the cabin I’ve been staying in since arriving in Tennessee and met the other journalists and staff for breakfast at Grinder House Coffee in Crossville. What a delightful way to start the day. It was probably the coolest coffee shop I’ve ever been in, and both the staff and the food (I had a lemon zest waffle) were delightful.

Delightful, I say.

2. Cane Creek Falls

Our entire group spent most of the morning and part of the afternoon at Fall Creek Falls State Park, Tennessee’s most-visited state park and home to several waterfalls. Y’all, it was gorgeous–like something you’d see out of a movie–literally. The 1994 version of The Jungle Book was filmed at this park! Check out the below picture of Cane Creek Falls, the waterfall Mowgli jumps into in this scene of the movie. It’s 85 feet from the top of the falls to the bottom. (Apparently King Kong and The Pink Power Ranger–or at least their stunt doubles–have also jumped off this cliff.)

Here’s a picture of me and three other journalists–my friends David and Kay (they’re married) and Annie–at the top of Cane Creek Falls.

Here’s a picture of me and my friend Tom at Cane Creek Cascades, which is just above Cane Creek Falls. A cascade is a waterfall that descends in steps or intervals; a plunge waterfall–like Cane Creek Falls–is one that descends unimpeded.

Notice the swinging bridge above the cascades in the above photo. This bridge was also used in The Jungle Book, although the movie-makers covered it in vines and leaves for the film. Here’s a selfie I took just before walking across the bridge. (I ran back. Then I read the sign that said, “No running.” Thankfully, neither of the two rangers who were guiding our tour gave me a hard time. Phew. That was close. I’m such a law-breaker.)

3. Fall Creek Falls

Next we saw Fall Creek Falls–the state park’s namesake–first from above, then from below. And whereas you can’t tell from the below photograph, Fall Creek Falls is over twice the height of Cane Creek Falls. It’s 256 feet high, the largest plunge waterfall east of the Mississippi. Check it out. (There’s not a lot of water because it’s dam-controlled, and the dam is currently being repaired.) Notice the orange patina on the rocks. Basically, it’s rust, the result of naturally occurring iron oxide mixing with an abundance of water. One more thing about the picture, for scale–the thee non-orange rocks to the left of the pool of water are people. There are actually five people in the photo.

After seeing Fall Creek Falls, we ate a sack lunch then checked out two overlooks in the park. Here’s a picture from the second overlook of what our guide told me is one of the most photographed trees in Tennessee and maybe America. I said, “I had no idea I was standing RIGHT NEXT to a celebrity.”

4. Ozone Falls

Next we went to Ozone Falls, which is another plunge waterfall (in a different park) and 110 feet high. Again, we got to see it from above and from below. Well, we had the option to see it from below, since it was a bit of a strenuous hike to get down there. And whereas I ripped up part of my left boot while navigating rocks to see this feat of nature, it was more than worth it.

It’s just a boot.

5. Black Mountain

Our last outdoor stop today was Black Mountain. And whereas the other places we visited today were all over God’s creation, this one was back in Crossville, one of the two towns we’ve been back and forth between all week and the one in which (until tonight) I’ve been staying. Anyway, check out this spectacular view.

Here’s a picture from Black Mountain that includes me and one of the other journalists, my friend Jill.

6. Forte’s

For dinner tonight we ate in Crossville at Forte’s Restaurant, an Italian place. Y’all, it was the perfect thing–wonderful food and delightful company. This is a such a terrific group. We’ve shared stories and jokes all day long. We’ve laughed, laughed, laughed. At least I have.

7. One other thing

Despite it being a wonderful day, I’m exhausted on every level, since today was a lot of being in the sun, a lot hiking mountains and valleys, a lot of go-go-go. And one other thing–just before dinner I took a stroll around downtown by myself, and some guy in a truck drove by and yelled, “Queer!” And I don’t know, it was–uh–unsettling, since it was the first time in my entire life that’s happened. Strange, I know–so many gays have much worse experiences way before they turn 38. Anyway, that was it. It could have been better, it could have been worse. They kept driving, and I went back to the restaurant. Still, I’m not sure where to put the experience other than in the “shit happens” drawer.

After dinner we drove an hour to Cookeville, where I checked into The Towneplace Suites, and the front desk employee said, “Two double queens?” and my first thought was, Is it THAT fucking obvious?! And NO, asshole! If you MUST know, I’m a SINGLE QUEEN. But then I realized he was talking about the beds in my room and said, “That’ll be fine, thank you.”

Now it’s 11:13, and I have a headache. I keep staring at the beds because I’d rather be there than here. Isn’t that so often the case, not wanting to be where we are? We hear a good joke or have a good day and want it to last, last, last. But this isn’t life. Sooner or later someone or something almost always comes along to spoil the fun. This morning at breakfast my friend Tom said, “A tourist comes to see what they expect to see; a traveler comes to see what he sees.” For me, this is another way of saying that we’re happier when we accept whatever comes along, when we take all of life–the good and the bad, the mountains and the valleys–in stride.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Sometimes you have to go back before you can go forward.

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The Griswolds, Pirate Sam, and Devil Bullshit Ale (#566)

Holy crap. It’s 8:00 in the morning, and I’ve been awake since 5:30. How did I get myself into this?

I should back up.

Yesterday I arrived in Tennessee for a travel writing trip, and after lunch in Cookeville was deposited in Crossville at Cumberland Mountain State Park. Um–y’all–the cabin I’m staying in is straight out of the 1930s. Like, I bet it was been THE SHIT back in the day. (The Griswolds would have loved it.) As it is now–well–let’s just say it’s rustic. And big–it’s way big. I’ve got the whole place–cabin 24–all to myself. Which is a little lonely. But hey, I can run around naked.

Don’t worry, Mom, I shut the blinds.

This is one of those “bring your own” places. What I mean is that it has a coffee pot, but no coffee. (Bring your own.) Likewise, it has plates, dishes, and cooking equipment, but no food. (Bring your own.) This is fine, of course, but after I went to the bathroom yesterday and wanted to wash my hands, I realized there wasn’t any soap–or shampoo or conditioner. (UH–bring your own.) That being said, I DID find a small bottle of Palmolive, which worked for washing my hands, but I thought, I DON’T WANT TO SHOWER WITH THIS STUFF!

Call me stuck up, but we all have standards.

Thankfully, the group that’s organizing this trip picked up soap, shampoo, and conditioner for me and the rest of the journalists staying in the cabins. (We’re in Crossville; some other journalists are in hotels in Cookeville.) So all is well.

Cookeville, which is an hour away from Crossville, is where most of our activities are taking place this week. This means that for us cabin-dwellers, there’s a lot of driving (or rather, being driven) back and forth. This also means we have to be ready to hit the road at 6:00 most mornings, since breakfast starts at 7:00. And whereas I’m not in love with the early-bird thing, it’s going to work out. This morning when my alarm went off, I got dressed, shoved a chocolate-covered donut in my mouth, then simply poured myself into a minivan and let someone else (who got less sleep than I did) do the driving to breakfast. In other words, it may be a tired life, but it’s not a difficult one.

One of the positives to being in the car so much is that it gives me time to blog, so there’s always a silver lining. With such a packed schedule, I’m not sure I could make time for it otherwise without giving up valuable sleep hours.

Last night the Tennessee Tourism Department hosted a reception for us journalists. (I think there are 12 of us.) Y’all, they really went over the top–the reception was in a huge barn, and there were about a dozen local vendors to welcome us–a barbecue restaurant, a coffee shop, a distillery, a jewelry store, an outdoors store, a yoga retreat center–you name it. There was even a pirate–Pirate Sam–who works with a canoeing group on the Caney River. He’s their mascot. Talk about cool.

Here’s a picture of me and Pirate Sam discussing very serious pirate things. ARG. Buried treasure. Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum.

The craft beer people at the reception last night were with Calfkiller Brewing Company, and they told me they were recently voted the #3 worst-named beer brewing business in the US. (They’re actually named after a local river, not after animal-harming activities.) But I guess unique names is their thing. One of their beers is called Scorched Hooker, and another one, which I tried last night, is called Sergio’s Ol’ Evil Ass Devil Bullshit Ale. (Say that three times fast.) The company employees I spoke with said sometimes they just call it Sergio’s.

I wonder why.

Yesterday one of the other travel writers referred to Tennessee as The Swag State, meaning that the tourism department and businesses here are famous for giving away free shit to journalists. And boy was he right. Last night I walked away with half a dozen grab bags full of goodies (including the donut I ate this morning). When I got back to the cabin and sorted it all out, I found–among other things–hand sanitizer, a lint roller, coffee beans, a mug, a hand towel, three small travel bags, and several pieces of handmade jewelry.

And get this shit. Apparently Cookeville boasts a famous Crossfit athlete (Crossfit is, as one journalist said, “Where people workout and shit”), and he and his extremely-large-muscled friends were at last night’s event. Seriously, I’ve never seen so many bulges in all my life. Or felt so gaunt. One guy’s boobs were so big, I swear you could have balanced a dinner plate full of fried chicken on them. At least a saucer and a tea cup. (Imagine that–a tea cup on a d-cup.) When we first saw him, one of my friends said, “You know that t-shirt he’s wearing is a small.” No kidding! It was SO TIGHT. Anyway, the Crossfit swag bag included a postcard of the famous dude showing off his ripped abs and bare chest.

Oh-la-la.

[Note: I stopped blogging here for a while and picked it back up after lunch.]

This morning after an early breakfast at a coffee shop in Cookeville, another journalist and I, along with one of the trip organizers and a state park employee, went kayaking on Byrd Lake, which is part of the Cumberland Mountain State Park here in Crossville. And whereas I’d anticipated it being cold and miserable, it was truly delightful. Just the perfect, relaxing thing on a cool, sunny day.

Check this picture out. I love how the water reflects the trees and sky.

While kayaking, I learned that Cumberland Mountain State Park and Byrd Lake were built during the years following The Depression by the Civilian Conservation Corps, a government program created by Franklin D. Roosevelt as part of The New Deal in order to both provide for America’s single, unmarried men (and their immediate families) and conserve and expand the nation’s natural resources and parks. In fact, our last stop while kayaking was the local dam and bridge, which is the largest masonry project built by the CCC during its entire history.

After kayaking, we went to lunch. Now we’re on a break (back at my retro-fabulous cabin), which is good–I can finish this blog. Shortly, the same group that went kayaking and I will go for a hike, then tonight we’ll meet everyone else for dinner. So far, I’m having wonderful time. Everyone I’m meeting is super southern sweet, even those who aren’t from “around these parts.” In terms of food, I’m moderating more than I did the last time I went on a travel writing trip by drinking less beer, watching my portions, and not eating every damn dessert in sight. Plus, I’m doing the hiking thing. So that’s something–having caloric boundaries and exercising.

Woowho.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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I don't think anyone came to this planet in order to get it right the first time. What would be the point?

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