Kentucky Backroads

"If you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there" -- George Harrison

Over the years that I've lived in Cincinnati, I have developed quite a fascination with and appreciation of Kentucky. Every once in a while, when I have a few spare hours, I get in the car and drive the backroads, taking pictures or looking for quilt barns with my daughter. I have also spent quite a bit of time camping and caving in the wild limestone hills of Rockcastle County, one of my favorite areas.

Depending on my mood, then, I go either east, south, or west, each direction having a specific geography and culture. First off, the minute you cross the Ohio River, you are in The South. You also often feel that you have travelled back in time either several decades or at least a century. This is a good thing. I am so grateful there are still places where one can get off the beaten path, travel the blue highways, and see a way of life that has all but vanished in our modern suburban existence.

I get off the treacherous AA Highway ("Alexandria to Ashland"), as quickly as possible, and am soon winding my way down equally treacherous but beautiful county roads, down through the wooded hills, past small neat farms tucked into the hollers just off the road.

God and country are big themes down here, and although these are generally poor areas, the farms are neat and well-kept.

A horse rests in the shadow of a barn. Horse country is further south, but extends up here a bit.

Traveling east, the hills get higher, the land opens up, and the poverty gets more obvious. You can drive miles and miles without seeing a town, let alone a grocery store. My thoughts turn to the current talk of "food deserts" in rural areas. This abandoned store is in Bracken County.

Although I'm not a fan of tobacco use, I appreciate its history and cultural significance in this area.

Tobacco fields turn a beautiful golden color in the fall, and after harvesting (still done by hand, but using migrant labor), it is hung in open-air barns to dry.

Further down in the middle of the state, the feeling is decidedly more Appalachian, and far more remote. Rockcastle County is hilly, deeply wooded terrain, with limestone caverns throughout the area. One of my favorite camping spots is at the Great Saltpeter Preserve. It is one of the few places I know in the region that is so remote you hear absolutely no human noise: no motors, no traffic, no airplanes. There are no lights from towns, and the stars are incredibly bright. The number and variety of bird songs is simply amazing. There I feel life stripped of all its unnecessary, jarring modern-ness, and am serenely happy.

Just over the hill from one of our favorite caves is Climax Spring. It  comes out of the ground and runs down the hill in a small bubbling stream lined with watercress, which grows only in the purest water. (I hadn't see watercress since I hiked with my dad as a child back in Iowa.) The spring water is bottled and sold, but there is also a standpipe that runs continually, and is available for free to people who come from miles around to fill containers. It is a wonderful place to refresh after a morning in the caves, and a great way to meet the locals.

As soon as spring gets into full swing I will venture out again to fill my own container up with the sights and smells of renewed life along the backroads.