The Bluegrass State

The Bluegrass State

Our day started early this morning. By 7:15 we were on the bike and riding west. (The vim and vigor I had at 3:00 today is rapidly fading.) The skies in West Virginia didn't look every promising as we rolled out on today's journey to Kentucky, but I kept my fingers crossed that it was simply early morning haze.

When we crossed into Virginia and coal country the skies kept changing from blue to grey (hey..very Civil War-like, huh?) and I continued to keep my fingers crossed. We crossed into Kentucky at 9:00am to clear blue skies and a warm, welcoming sunshine, but alas, the splendidness of the day was soon to fade.

We saw signs for Pikesville Harley Davidson and took the exit, hoping to add to our shirt collection. Alas, we were thwarted, as it isn't open on Sunday. Disappointed, but undaunted, we continued on.

Mountain Parkway, otherwise known as Route 460, was the major through fare for us today, but by 11:30, the skies over Kentucky turned on us and down came the rain. it was nothing more than annoying sprinkles, but the sky was too foreboding to take a chance. We found a place to pull off and put on th raingear. Jason and I looked quizzically at the sky, and then each other, for in that brief moment, the sky was once again blue. Before Jason would say, "Maybe it isn't going to rain," we got pelleted with drops the size of nickels and scrambled to get our rain gear on.  A necessary evil, it kep us dry through the rain and the tempermental sky.  The big ugly cloud was seconds in the distance when it hit us. Driving, cold rain. While it seemed much longer, the brunt of it lasted only 5 minutes, but it continued to rain for quite some time.

We saw signs for Middle Creek National Battlefield, located in Prestonburg, KY. Since the rain had abated, we decided to take a small detour and check it out. In the grand scheme of Civil War battles and battlefields, this one was a skirmish - a two to one ratio of Union troops outnumbered by Confederate troops - just over 3,000 in all.  The battle was fought January 10, 1862 on land owned by Henry Clay Fitzpatrick and was an example of the typical  Kentuckian versus Kentuckian battles in the region. We took a quick look, but the skies had started to look ominous again, so I had to be satisfied with pictures of the interpretive markers to read later.

Around 1:00, we pulled into a gas station in Westchester, Kentucky. The skies were picture perfect and the rain gear was history. When I commented on how great the clover smelled, Jason replied, "That isn't clover you smell, Honey. That's money."  We were in Horse Farm Country. It was farm after beautiful farm, with quietly rolling hills, fences, unassuming horses and larger than life plantation style homes.

I knew he was right when the Mazerati pulled upto the pump behind us.

We continued onthrough Westchester and into Lexington, the first "real" city we'd seen since leaving New Jersey. My expectation going into Kentucky was that we'd see landscape and homes similar to those we'd seen all across West Virginia.  I couldn't have been further from the truth. Kentucky, at least wher we'd ridden, was breathtakingly beautiful.

As noted earlier, we had lunch in Daville and then headed off to our hotel.  While leaping through the guest services guide, I saw information on the Perryville Battlefield State Historic site that piqued my interest. It was only 12 miles from the hotel, so we decided to check it out.

More later....