Birthday Party Road Trip

Big Stone Gap

The first song I learned to play on the piano was “Birthday Party” (taught first by Marian during an evening I spent at her house while my parents were out, and then formally by Thema as we worked through “Teaching Little Fingers to Play”).  The words and tune ran through my head as we drove out of Nashville, moving with purpose toward Stafford and a very important birthday party.  

Here we go, up the road, to a birthday party.  (Yes, yes, I know.  The actual lyric is up a row, but that’s not what I was humming.)

We did the drive in one shot back in February when we bought the RV and it was brutal so we planned the trip back with 2 stops at Harvest Hosts and one more at a no-frills campground so we could arrive relaxed and with plenty of daylight to spend with the kids of both generations.

Our first night was in the parking lot of a huge church campus near a Burger King.  It was quiet, smelled good, and a great place to play fetch with Axel.  Our second night was at the town of Big Stone Gap, VA.  The actual town was the host, with concrete pads at their riverfront park specifically to welcome us.

The drive off I-81 to Big Stone Gap was through the same mountains as Watoga but more scenic than scarry this time.  The village itself was quaint with a bustling downtown.  We arrived as they were setting up for their weekend beach party – complete with a shutdown street converted into a sand beach.  It was a neat place with an active community, lots of festivals throughout the year, and a decent meal at a local place called Big Cherry Brewing Company.  There was also a tangle of low wires hanging across the entrance of the park - I only managed to snag them once.

The drive out of town was wide and steep with sweeping views of valley farms, railroad tracks, and mountain streams.  We passed a Rural King.  We drove under a monstrous coal conveyor belt kind of thing.  We descended through overwhelming greenery.  And then we were at I-81.

The no frills-campground was within spitting distance of a truckstop and not configured for rigs our size.  Ironically, the potholes were so big that anything smaller than us would probably have been lost forever.  But none of that mattered.  We slept well, dumped the tanks that needed dumping and filled the tanks that needed filling and it was an easy drive to Stafford for afternoon coffee with the grandkids.

I’d say we spent the next few days catching up, but anyone with experience with an “about to be three”-year old knows there’s no catching up, only endless chasing around.  That was fine with this PopPop.  We helped out around the house in preparation for the party, watched the annual fourth of July parade, wrestled with how to plug the RV into the house without tripping any circuits (reminded me of the scene in Apollo 13), and packing for our trip to Hawaii.

The Birthday Party itself was grand, so many little kids.  More little kids than adults and there were a lot of adults.  Emily and Blake were great hosts and Sarah seemed to love every minute.  The days passed quickly, summer days filled with lemonade, ice cream, family and the shrieks and laughter of carefree youth and their grandparents.

On Monday morning we loaded up the car, sent Axel off with Renee’s parents, and said goodbye.  There was a plane to catch (three, actually) and an ocean to cross.

Grassy no-frills parking lot

The thingy

 

June, 2024 -- 3 Days in Nashville

I fit in here

Back in the pre-internet, pre-iPhone, pre-everybody’s a filmmaker, pre-everything’s gotta be a sequel or we’re too afraid to make it, 1990s, there were all sorts of quirky, sorta independent films with clever names and off-beat characters that made it into almost mainstream.  “3 Days in Nashville” could have been right up there with “Eight Heads in a Duffle Bag” or “Things to do in Denver When You’re Dead”.  But it wasn’t.  But it should’ve.  Or maybe not.

We enjoyed our stay, despite the now ubiquitous challenging drive into the campground and skipping out on the Grand Ole' Opry.  US Army Corp of Engineering campgrounds are awesome.  We weren’t waterfront, but it was spacious and quiet and an easy walk to a nice beach.  Axel approved.

It was also extremely conveniently located for everything Nashville including music, hot-chicken, and a must-see car museum.  The Lane Motor Museum’s collection of vehicles included conversions from airplanes, tiny 30 hp pickup trucks, a massively huge amphibious landing craft, Japanese drift machines, and dozens of motorcycles.  They claim a European leaning so I was hoping to see a Lotus or three.  They’ve 5 in their collection but only one was on display.  It’s okay though, it was one I never thought I’d seen in real life.

Renee is not a car person but enjoyed our visit describing several of the vehicles, especially an early Mazda, as “cute.”  Being able to live without being rushed has allowed us to enjoy many places we’d have skipped over previously because they “weren’t our thing” – there are so many stories.  It’s not just a fish, it’s trout.  It doesn’t just have scales, look at the detail, the color and patterns.  Right?

Speaking of not our thing, we also went to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum.  We walked through the gift shop, found the nostalgia compelling, and so decided to not be cheap.  We bought the relatively pricey tickets and went to see the exhibits.  What an amazing place, artfully documenting the life and times of performers, the intersections and cross-influences of blues, folk, and rock with country, and the remarkably cooperative and nurturing professional musician community in Nashville.

From the set of Hee-Haw to Dwight Yoakum’s pants to the Bandit’s Firebird, there was something familiar around every turn.  At least until we got to the last part.  Other than Darius Rucker, I don’t know any of these new kids.

Back on the town, we strolled through Bon Jovi’s place, ate at The Assembly of Food (which was WOW), and listened to a lot of really good live music as we walked the streets and shopped for emergency sunglasses and an Alani Nu.  I even stopped in at the Bridgestone building to grab snaps of their Indycar static display and oversized tire mobile (the kind that hangs from the ceiling).

We ended up going downtown 2 days, parking at the stadium and walking across the bridge both times.  It’s hilly, but enjoyable in a county fair midway sort of way.  It seemed a bit overwhelming at first, but like so many of the places we’ve “lived” the past couple of months, we’re carrying away a comfortable familiarity and look forward to coming back.

Photobombed like a boss

He's a cowboy

A bike at a car museum.  But its a carbon fibre LOTUS!!!

It's a Fiat, not the Mazda, but still cute

This is the only one they built

Our cool beach

I would not go 200 in that

I would not go 200 in this either, even wearing that pink shirt