On our way to Pennsylvania Dutch Country we paused for a tour of two Frank Lloyd Wright homes, Kentuck Knob in Chalk Hill and Fallingwater in Mill Run Pennsylvania. The homes were located within a few miles of each other. Our overnight for this off- track visit was Hickory Hollow RV Park. To reach the campground it was necessary to wind through steep hills, down narrow roads, and cross several bridges with signs warning “no trucks over 10 tons”. White knuckling it with fingers crossed, we rolled over several holding our breath and hoping that our 20 ton heft didn’t collapse the small bridges.

Arriving safely we pulled into our partially shaded long level site and set up for the night. Our site was on the ridge, no one else as neighbors, with views of the tranquil rolling hills and peaceful fishing lake. When night arrived, it was pitch black with tiny piercing white stars covering the sky. After an overload of travel stress, we slipped into an evening of pure relaxation.

There were a few small downsides to the campground, low water pressure and muddy grounds from the storms, but the area was clean and neat, the staff was friendly, the facilities were modern and nights were quiet. I suspected that our exit, a tight turn on an uphill slant, was going to be problematic but I would worry about that later.

Bright and early next morning, we set off to visit the two Unitarian Style homes designed by Frank Lloyd Wright.  Alongside the road we spotted a beautiful covered bridge, Kings Bridge, built in 1806.  It is a 127 foot 4 inch long Burr truss bridge.  I was surprised to find it had an asbestos covered gable roof, although it would have only been a danger to those who built the roof.  Love the design and how well these covered bridges have held up over the centuries.  The bridge crosses Laurel Hill Creek.  It is one of 10 covered bridges in Somerset County.  If we were staying longer in the area, we would search them out.

Arriving early with the dew still on the ground, we walked around the visitor center at Kentuck Knob.  As is standard with Frank Lloyd Wright’s homes, no pictures are allowed inside.

Kentuck Knob was designed in 1953 for the Hagan’s and their 80 acres of land. They lived in the home for almost 30 years. Owners of a major dairy company, they were friends of the Kaufmann’s, owners of the nearby Fallingwater home, also designed by Wright, and were frequent guests. The Kaufmann’s helped convince Wright to design a home for the Hagan’s, as even at the age of 86, he was still much in demand.

The 240 degree L-plan house, based on a module system, curves around a courtyard and blends into the land’s contours.  Wright wanted the first impression of the house to have the appearance of it emerging from the ground and nestling into the hillside.

The hilltop, a few yards south of the home, has a magnificent view of the valley.

In 1986 Lord and Lady Palumbo of the UK bought the property, using it as a vacation home. The couple occasionally use the home for entertaining but since 1996, they allow the public tour program to continue, a method of historic property management common to Britain.

One of the notable features of the home were the hexagon shaped windows allowing light to come through the overhang on the long rear porch.  The picture below is compliments of the website.

Lord and Lady Palumbo have a substantial collection of large scale art pieces located along a half mile trail called “Sculpture Meadow”. Beginning near the stunning valley overlook behind the house, and ending at the Visitors Center where we were parked, the perfect weather and interesting pieces made for an enjoyable purposeful walking exercise through the forest.

Kinetic Art                                                 Bailey Sculpture

De Creation Sculpture                              Troilus Tortoise bronze sculpture

Untitled Sculpture                 Berlin Wall Section              Apple Core Sculpture

The Kaufmann residence, also known as Fallingwater, was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright in 1935 for Edgar J. Kaufmann, owner of Kaufmann’s Department Store.

The home was built partially over a waterfall on Bear Run in the Mill Run section of Stewart township and the multi-level home has direct access to a swim deck and swim hole just above the falls.  The entrance to the house was tucked away under stone columns and cement overhangs.

It was designed as a weekend home for the family. Wright designed a later addition, on a hill above the family home, as a guest home with a back deck that included a natural spring fed swim pool.  You can barely see the guest house over the top of the main house.

While I was drawn to Wright’s earlier work, the older and more famous he became, the less I appreciated his architectural reasoning. Narrow dark entrances with low ceilings that opened up and made rooms look larger was appealing but his determination to have total control over the design went awry with several inconvenient features.

His insistence on low ceilings at the entrances left anyone six feet tall or over having to duck their heads to enter his homes. Another insisted design feature was the absence of screens. The intricately designed woodwork across opening windows allowed cross breezes to flow but also allowed in bugs and critters. Wright did not allow screens. He believed they blocked the progression of the outdoors into the indoors, despite the damage that resulted from entering crawlies and creepers. Many of the home owners sensibly added screens after the home was completed.

Built-in seating that stretches along walls and discourages intimate guest conversations was another odd feature. Both homes were owned by well-to-do families that entertained. The odd seating and small dining tables that have seating designed for only immediate family added to the clash, pulling the home’s purpose in opposite directions. The narrow stone passageways designed as halls were uncomfortably claustrophobic and kitchens were designed for preparation of small meals with little storage.

Mr. Wright would never have been able to complete an agreeable home design for John and I. He believed that everyone was entitled to his opinion but then, so do I. One of us would surely have ended up buried six feet under a solid cement foundation before the house was completed.

Near both homes is the small town center of Ohiopyle. It is quaint, sits alongside the river, is filled with small shops and eateries and is the center for dozens of activities and outdoor adventures.  Ohiopyle State Park’s 20,500 spectacularly scenic acres, the Youghiogheny River and waterfalls make this area a quality one-on-one experience with Mother Nature.  We had lunch in a small café across the street from the river and drove around the area sightseeing before returning to LilyPad to pack up and prepare for our early morning departure.

Our morning exit was complicated by the downpours that happened sporadically over the past two days. The rain produced wet grounds, wet grass and some areas of mud with less-than-perfect road conditions. It resulted in LilyPad sliding as we climbed the hill to exit the campground. Stopping each time the wheels spun, we inched our way up, thankfully without having to unhook the car, my teeth clenched tight throughout our sluggish climb and eventual exit. Relaxation, stress, relaxation, stress…there is always a roller coaster of emotions each travel day.

Soon I will be checking off something on my Bucket List and am happily anticipating the experience the nearer we draw to our next destination. A visit to Lancaster, PA has been on my Bucket List for decades and shortly we will arrive. Reading up on both religious groups for a better understanding of each, the people and the area, was done nightly over the past week.

Wikipedia describes the Amish as a group of traditionalist Christian church fellowships with Swiss Anabaptist origins.  They are closely related to, but distinct from, Mennonite churches.  The Amish are known for simple living, plain dress, and reluctance to adopt the many conveniences of modern technology.  The history of the Amish church began with a schism in Switzerland within a group of Swiss and Alsatian Anabaptists in 1693 led by Jakob Ammann.  Those who followed Ammann became known as Amish.

The same source describes the Mennonites as Christian groups belonging to the church communities of Anabaptist denominations named after Menno Simons (1496-1561) of Friesland in what is now the Netherlands.  The early teachings of the Mennonites were founded on the belief in both the mission and ministry of Jesus, which the original Anabaptist followers held to with great conviction despite persecution by various Roman Catholic and Protestant states.  Rather than fight, the majority of these followers survived by fleeing to neighboring states.  Mennonites have become known as one of the historic peace churches because of their commitment to pacifism.

Although Lancaster , in the heart of Amish and Mennonite country, was our original destination, we settled comfortably in Ephrata at the Ephrata Elks Lodge, tucked between dozens of Shaggy Hickory trees and a short distance away from the Lodge.  It is an effortless drive to any town we wish to visit.

Capturing the Amish on film, being mindful of their intense faith and strict adherence to traditions, is a delicate task and not easily accomplished as they are integrated within the county. They hold a fascination for myself and many other “English”, which is what they call outsiders. Their culture is marked by separatism and a rejection of modern technology even as they continue to thrive within communities that so passionately embrace individualism and staying connected to a state-of-the-art world.

We began our Amish adventure by traveling over roads that split fields of chestnut colored soil, dotted every so often by plain white houses and barns, all lacking “English” electrical pole and phone line attachments to their homes.  A red barn among the white buildings often implied a Mennonite farm.

Simple somber blue, white, tan and brown colored clothing, hand washed and hanging wet on outdoor clotheslines, were a common site.

While driving along, one had to be watchful of horse drawn carriages touring briskly down asphalt roads, sharing lanes with motor vehicles.

Some even traveled down the road where we were staying.

Teams of colossal horses, guided by a single farm hand, working in unison to drag plow equipment across fields, turning lush greenery into fertile tilled soil.

Restaurants and grocery stores offered horse and carriage parking.

Each of these scenes were all signs that we had truly entered Pennsylvania Dutch Country.

Our first excursion was to Hershey Museum in Hershey Pennsylvania. My keep-on-rollin-on mantra is: Just give me chocolate and no one gets hurt. Chocolate is my drug of choice. It has become a powerful tool in stress reduction or any other excuse I can dream up in order to bite into a square of my velvety addiction.

Milton Hershey’s chocolate factory provided affordable chocolate to all Americans but that was only one of his gifts to this country.

I had read about the Milton Hershey empire before we visited but didn’t realize how much was not included in the writings. He was a devout philanthropist, designing a company town that encouraged his employees to seek education, offering them a well-rounded life that included sports and the arts, availing loans for them to purchase housing, building swimming and sports facilities for leisure time and constructing a gigantic community building for offering a variety of events and gatherings. Hershey was one of the first successful planned communities. Neither he nor his wife had children and he left his fortune to the Hershey Industrial School, a home for orphaned boys which he founded in early 1900.

We drove through the neighborhoods where Hershey employee homes still stand.  Lovely homes, well manicured neighborhoods.

Hershey began his confectionary business with Lancaster Caramel Company which quickly became successful. Using the funds from the sale of his caramel company to build The Hershey Company, he established the Hershey Industrial School for orphaned boys with a Deed of Trust in 1909 and in 1918 he transferred the majority of his assets, including control of the company, to the Milton Hershey School Trust fund, renamed in 1951 to the Milton Hershey School. The school trust has 100 percent control of Hershey Entertainment and Resorts Company which owns the Hotel Hershey and Hersheypark among other properties. Milton took great pride in the growth of the school, his town and business, placing the quality of his products and the well-being of his workers ahead of profits.

The museum was a wealth of information about the chocolate making process.  Original manufacturing machines were displayed in several rooms along with the process used to make the chocolate and lots of interactive screens to keep the kids entertained.

There was a cocoa bean grinder,

and the Hershey kiss wrapping machine.

We purchased a Groupon for the museum that included a “drinking chocolate” flight.  Six different flavors and densities made from beans around the world.  From milk chocolate to dark chocolate, each had a different yet amazing flavor.   We left with major chocolate highs.

Hershey’s Chocolate World was a short drive from the museum and the heavenly bouquet of chocolate filled the air even before entering the doors.

There was an enjoyable animated ride with funny singing cows,

samples at the end of the ride and more chocolate than imaginable divided among dozens of rooms.

The M.S. Hershey private charitable foundation established in 1935 provides educational and cultural opportunities for Hershey residents. The foundation funds the Hershey Museum, Hershey Gardens and Hershey Theater.

The Penn State Milton S. Hershey Medical Center was founded by an initial endowment of $50 million, a gift from the Milton Hershey School Trust to the people of Hershey PA. The teaching hospital has an annual budget exceeding the initial construction cost.

In 1912, the Hershey’s were booked to travel on the ill-fated maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic. They cancelled the reservations at the last minute, instead booking passage to New York on the German luxury liner SS Amerika. The loss of Milton Hershey would have affected generations of Americans and legal immigrants who benefited from his continuing generosity.

Another day, another town to explore. Today our pick is Lititz, a borough in Lancaster County. Founded by members of the Moravian church in 1756, its name was taken from a German castle near a village where ancient Bohemian Brethren’s Church had been founded in 1457. The historic picturesque downtown is filled with remarkably well preserved stone and wood buildings, some dating back several centuries. I would have no objection to living in any of the buildings, anywhere along the downtown streets of this fascinating town.

Lititz is home to Linden Hall, the oldest all-girls boarding school in the United States. The school was founded by the Moravian church in 1746 as a day school, a decade before the borough was incorporated. An amazing stone building surrounded by beautiful grounds.

Our day started with breakfast at Tomato Pie Café, an eclectic urban style eatery in a vintage building. Friendly service, expansive menu, yummy food.

We walked along the downtown streets, window shopping until we found Julius Sturgis Pretzel Bakery and entered for the bakery tour.  I had read about the tour, it sounded interesting and indeed, was worth the time spent.  Founded in 1861, the bakery is the first commercial pretzel bakery in America. The smell of fresh baked pretzels wafted through the gift shop so we split a soft pretzel and covered it with spicy brown mustard, munching while waiting for the tour to begin.

Although the exact origin of the pretzel is unknown, legend claims that around A.D. 610, Italian monks rewarded their young students with baked dough twisted in the shape of crossed arms. At that time, the traditional posture for prayer involved crossing arms over the chest, hands flat against the shoulders. The pretzel’s three holes represent the Holy Trinity – Father, Son and Holy Spirit and the bakery item became associated with good luck, long life and prosperity.

The Catholic Church dictated strict rules for fasting and abstinence during Lent in the seventh century so the pretzel, made of water, flour and salt, was an ideal food. These early pretzels were soft baked and were originally called “bracellae”, the later term for “little arms”, from which the Germans later derived the word “bretzel”. According to the church, the earliest pretzels were called “pretiolas”, meaning little rewards, and handed out by monks when their pupils recited prayers correctly.

Spreading across Europe during the Middle Ages, these pretzels were easy to prepare in ovens like the ones we toured at the bakery that are pictured below and pretzels were commonly distributed to the poor as a way of providing both spiritual and literal sustenance.

Our tour guide taught us the original meaning of the shape of the pretzel, allowing us to use raw dough while she explained each step. First, roll the dough ball out to the length of the dowel, approximately 12 inches.

Second, bring ends up to form a “U” representing a child’s prayers going up to heaven. Third, cross the ends of the dough to form an “X”, then twist one time. This knot represents the union of marriage between the child’s parents. Fourth, pull the ends of the dough down and press them into the bottom of the pretzel. The three openings represent the Christian Trinity. The shape also resembles a child’s arms crossed in prayer.

We accepted our complimentary packages of hard pretzels, bought another soft pretzel to share and continued walking around town.

Just before reaching our car, I spied the word “chocolate” on an old building across the street. We were not leaving until I had a taste of what was sure to be stashed inside the Wilbur Chocolate Company.

Purchased by Cargill Cocoa and Chocolate North America in 1992, the company was founded in 1865 by Henry Oscar Wilbur and Samuel Croft in Lititz, where most of the Wilbur brand was produced. It is one of the four brands manufactured by Cargill Cocoa & Chocolate North America. The parent company produces hundreds of millions of pounds of chocolate a year and sells to dozens of manufacturers throughout the Americas.  The museum held a wall of molds for brick chocolate and many of the names were immediately recognizable.

Cargill cocoa and chocolate labels include Peter’s Chocolate, bought from Nestle in 2002, Gerkens Cacao and Veliche Belgian chocolate. Cargill closed the Wilbur Chocolate Factory in early 2016 officially ending Wilbur’s celebrated 125 year old tradition of chocolate making in Lititz.

Happily for us, they kept the gratis Candy Americana Museum that tells the story of the company and how their chocolate was made.  They also have free samples.  Hooray for samples!   Although they closed the factory, workers hand fill chocolate molds for sale in the store.

We strolled through the exhibits and I paused in front of the full wall of dainty porcelain antique chocolate pots, exquisitely designed.  I inherited my mother’s antique chocolate pot set and I am amazed that something so delicate survived for so many centuries.

The museum also included a room full of tins and boxes, molds and chocolate miscellaneous.

Here is an interesting fact for your Trivia file. The Wilbur Bud was introduced in 1893 and closely resembles the Hershey’s Kiss which debuted in 1907. Although both are chocolate and both are wrapped, doesn’t it seems strange that one is well known and the other almost obscure considering the close proximity of their manufacturers?  Lititz is a mere 20 miles from Hershey.

After sampling our fill of chocolate, we drove around while I picked out a few dozen houses where I knew I could live happily ever after. I pretend we will buy a house in one of these towns and John plays along. It works for my imagination of home ownership and John’s lack of ability to buy a sticks and bricks home.  I must admit, if I had been to this part of Pennsylvania before living in Boston, I would have lost my heart to the charming little town of Lititz.

Returning to LilyPad for the evening, we made plans to rise early and attend a local farmers market.

It was an overcast day, perfect for wandering through the indoor market and outside stalls. Roots Country Market and Auction in Manheim Pennsylvania is the oldest single family-run country market in Lancaster County. It began as a poultry auction in 1925 and over the years, has evolved into a part of Lancaster County’s heritage, offering fresh foods along with a large variety of handcrafted items for sale.

The country market was a jumble of bakery goods, cheese, fresh fruits and veggies, flowers, handmade baskets and blankets, fish, deli meats and fresh meats, jewelry, handmade wooden items, antiques and scads more, all temptingly exhibited under numerous roofs and spilling out onto the side streets. We didn’t go to the auction. Neither of us could think of a single item we needed badly enough to buy it by the box, and haul it around in our motorhome.

I had to be cautious taking pictures as most of the produce farm stands, dairy farm counters and meat merchant cases were Amish owned and staffed. I tasted everything that was available for sampling, all of it delightfully palate pleasing. Our special treat was a melt-in-your-mouth sticky bun from Michael’s Home-style Breads Bakery.

We took home a selection of Amish homemade sausages, Amish homemade sauerkraut, Amish homemade goat cheese spread (a yummy Cajun spice and crab combo) and a small Amish handmade basket. Prices were low, quality was exceptional, the market was brimming with first-rate people watching opportunities and it ranked high up there on my happy camper meter.

We walked through several buildings.  At the end of one of the buildings sat a gentleman dressed to the nines.

I must preface the meeting of this Lancaster county resident by stating that in The Woodlands Texas, our Santa ranked supreme among Santa’s. Search as we might, year after year, none compared to our Santa’s authenticity and exceptional Santa-like demeanor, until this exact moment.

I stopped to chat with this fascinating looking character who introduced himself to me simply as “Santa”. I visited with Santa, a.k.a. Louis Meevers-Scholte, for a while before I realized that his life was so full of amazing experiences and such a positive influence in the world, it would have been a genuine honor to have known him throughout his life’s journey.

Santa is as serious about the name as he is about the title’s obligation. He has been donning the Father Christmas suit for more than 45 years.

Throughout the year he collects food and toys, about 3,000 gifts, to be distributed to the less fortunate homes and children for Christmas. Now in his 80’s he reflects on his life as a musician, lyricist, story teller and Santa. His book, “Look Only Upward – A Reason to Be Born” is his story, his travels through a lifetime. From snippets of his conversation, I began to understand how difficult a journey he had traveled.

His childhood life was one of sorrow and suffering during World War II in Nazi-occupied Holland. When he was 10, he was with his father, a Jewish member of the underground resistance, while his father was tortured and killed. Remarkably, he made his way to America and Pennsylvania while still a child. Years later he was able to bring over his Christian mother.

The bitterness for all Germans eventually faded as he lived and worked among the Amish in Pennsylvania. He became friends with them and credits the friendships that developed between them as the reason he overcame his hatred for Germans.

I thanked Santa, thinking to myself how infinitesimal most troubles seem compared to his lifelong struggles and how tremendous were his contributions to his adopted town. I walked back to our car and resolved to add reading his book to my Bucket List.

On a large parcel of land near the town of Ephrata sat a number of unique European style buildings, giant in size, a few being multiple stories high and all dull in color. The name on the side of the building nearest the road read, “Ephrata Cloister”. We were about to walk in the footsteps of German settlers who came to Pennsylvania in the 1700’s seeking spiritual goals rather than earthly rewards.

We bought tickets in the Visitors Center (picture on the right) which held articles that belonged to the Cloister and we watched a short film about how the Cloister evolved.

The community consisted of celibate Brothers and Sisters and a married congregation of families making up one of the oldest religious cults in America.

Founded in 1732 and at its pinnacle in the 1740’s and 1750’s, the community of about 300 members worked and worshiped at the Cloister. Their lives were structured, orderly and benevolently guided by Conrad Beissel (1691-1768) founder and Superintendent of the Ephrata Cloister.  Conrad was one of America’s earliest composers of hymns and anthems, organizer and teacher of the cloister singing school and publisher of America’s first book of original compositions, the Turtel-Taube, 1747.

Born at the end of a century of devastating wars in Eberbach am Neckar Germany, Conrad was orphaned by the age of 8, learned the trade of baker and began traveling the region to perfect his skills. He encountered Pietists who met in small groups not sanctioned by the church to read the Bible and pray.

Eventually banished from his homeland by the government in 1720, he immigrated to Pennsylvania attracted by William Penn’s policies offering freedom of conscience.

Moving to the Conestoga area, he joined with the Brethren, an Anabaptist group who offered admission to the faith to those who had reached maturity. He was appointed leader in 1724. His radical ideas of Saturday worship and promotion of celibacy caused a split within the congregation and in 1728 Beissel withdrew his membership from the church.

Because of his charismatic personality, he attracted followers until 1732 when he left and sought the hermit’s life. Settling along the banks of the Cocalico Creek in northern Lancaster County, he was followed by like-minded men and women wishing to follow his teachings.

Beginning as a hermitage for a small group of devout individuals, the community grew to include nearly 80 celibate members supported by nearly 200 family members. Beissel’s theology, a hybrid of pietism and mysticism, encouraged celibacy, Sabbath worship, delaying baptism until the candidate reached maturity and a self-denying lifestyle.

Our tour guide walked us through several building, explaining and answering questions about life in the Cloister.  The meeting house (smaller building) was impressive, open, airy and light.

The Brothers and Sisters slept in small sparse rooms, in separate buildings, for no longer than 6 hours per night on wood benches with blocks of wood for pillows.  Their garments were plain and uncolored.

The cloister provided room for families and their own dining room, not luxurious but comfortable.

The families cooked, baked and helped with other needs of the cloister community.

Front of the bakery                                     Back of the bakery

Inside the bakery

Sisters dining hall and Sisters kitchen, minimal but sufficient.

There was limited industry.  They made their own furniture in the carpentry shop.    

They spun the wool from the sheep they raised and wove their own cloth.

Creative expression was encouraged and the cloister became known for self-composed A Cappella music, Germanic calligraphy known as Frakturschriften and a complete publishing center with a paper mill, printing office and book bindery.

The Cloister originally contained no less than eight major structures, dormitories or meetinghouses, several smaller dwellings, workshops and mills and a cemetery.

In 1745 an internal disharmony came to a head when there was a dramatic challenge to leadership posed by Israel Eckerlin. Israel was expelled from Ephrata.

In 1768, with the death of Beissel, the society quickly declined. His successor, Peter Miller, realized that the monastic life was no longer attractive to new generations. In a letter written to Benjamin Franklin he stated, “the mind of Americans is bent another way”.

The last of the celibate members died in 1813 and the following year the remaining members of the married congregation formed the German Seventh Day Baptist Church. Poor members of the church moved into many of the original buildings on the Cloister property and altered the spaces to fit their needs.

By 1929 the remaining church members living at the Cloister were in disagreement regarding the disposition of the site and its artifacts and took legal action against one another. In 1934 the court system revoked the incorporation charter for the Church at Ephrata and the property was placed under the care of a court receiver who sold the remaining 28 acres of the historic site to the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania in 1941. Restoration on the nine surviving original buildings began immediately.

We walked through the gift shop and museum before the tour and afterwards we walked around the property poking around inside the many buildings on the grounds. A full day under our belts, we returned to LilyPad relaxing under cover of the Shaggy Hickory trees.

John chose our next town.  Breakfast at LilyPad and then off to Intercourse Pennsylvania.

We toured the back roads before stopping at The Amish Experience to ride in an Amish carriage and view Amish farms. After, we watched a multi-media show about Jacob, a young man going through Rumspringa, a time period in the life of youths where each is allowed to participate in “English” experiences until he chooses baptism within the Amish Church or leaves the community.   As a courtesy, I chose not to attempt taking pictures.

Back to LilyPad for dinner and a Red Box movie.  We remain, our entire stay, the only people camping on the peaceful wooded grounds of Ephrata Elks Lodge.

Pennsylvania brought another “Best of” to my list. Best Smorgasbord: Shady Maple Smorgasbord, Blue Ball, Pennsylvania. It was approximately 40,000 square feet on the restaurant floor with a gift shop of the same size downstairs.  Vegas style buffet supersized!

You may wonder why several of the towns in this area have unusual and somewhat provocative names considering the large numbers of puritanical residents.  Well, wonder no more!

The town of Blue Ball was named after a two century old hotel that was built in Earl Town.  The owner hung a blue ball on a post outside the hotel and called it “The Sign of the Blue Ball”.  Locals began calling the town “Blue Ball” after the inn.  In 1833, Earl Town officially changed its name to Blue Ball.

The town of Intercourse was founded in 1754. The community was originally named Cross Keys, after a local tavern. Intercourse became the name in 1814. The use of language during the early days of the Village may have resulted in the name change. According to the Village website, “The word ‘intercourse’ was commonly used to describe the ‘fellowship’ and ‘social interaction and support’ shared in the community of faith, which was much a part of a rural village like this one”.  And now you know the rest of the story.

Back to Ephrata to ready LilyPad for our departure and our next adventure.  We will be moving on to Beacon New York where we will meet up with friends from Texas and tour West Point together.

Our time at Mill Creek Ranch Resort in Canton Texas at the Texas Tiffin Owners RV Rally was informative, entertaining and 100 percent no stress, no strain, relaxation. We volunteered for several events and enjoyed a fun filled week of interesting RV seminars, informal talks about our Tiffin motorhomes, 50/50 cash drawings, nightly Door Prizes at the Pavilion and laid back comradery with new and old friends. John and I walked away with two great door prizes on the last day. We thoroughly enjoyed every aspect of the experience.

There were pot lucks, several meals provided by the rally, breakfast provided and cooked by some of the men and a bar-b-q hosted by a vendor. One of the ladies hosted morning exercise walks and a wreath demonstration was given by a local craft shop. We participated in a motorhome garage sale and came away with several excellent books on tapes. Many of the attendees, including John, left items on the “free” table and we snagged another book on tape.

Vendors were in attendance to do recall work, repairs and upgrades. Our favorite Red Bay former Tiffin employee turned self-employed custom work guy, Brannon, came to do work for those who signed up. Our car battery died so we were overjoyed that there was a service vendor for testing and selling batteries along with a washing/waxing service and Aqua Hot service. Vendors stayed for the entire week working long hours to reach each attendee that requested their services.

Nearly 100 Tiffin motorhomes and their owners were merrily taking part in all that our grand Pooh-Bah, Richard King, so successful brought together. It was his first, and he claimed his last, rally coordinating project. But we plan to help sweet talk him into volunteering again. His yearlong work on the project produced excellent results. If he does it again, we will sign up immediately. Yep, we had that much fun!

It is April 15^th and we will roll back to Conroe in the morning. Although I am unable to read while rolling down the road, one stop allowed me to browse an article in our motorhome magazine about an RV blogger who received a question from a family who wanted to full-time with four children and 2 dogs, using only their RV travel blog as income. Long story short, they were told it was not possible to make that size of an income from blogging. They believed a higher power would take care of them and their needs so they ignored all advice. It has been my experience, when a higher power avails to you a group of bona fide knowledgeable people, you should listen.  Wonder how that worked out for them.

Back to Conroe KOA, floodwaters nipping at our wheels, to wait out the massive storm and rising waters predicted to arrive in Houston and The Woodlands area in the next few days. We were extremely thankful that State Highway105 was above water during the flooding. Both of the other RV parks, where we have previously stayed, flooded either in the park or at the entry. Sometimes we catch a welcoming break from trouble.

We were able to have lunch with our friends, all retired employees of the company John worked with for 30 years, at Schilleci’s New Orleans Kitchen at Market Street in The Woodlands. Yummy.

Next night was game night with our friends from the bike club that John road with for 25 years. An excellent home cooked meal and several thoroughly relaxing hours with our “old fogies” game night group.

Somewhere in the distance Willie’s voice started softly crooning On The Road Again, louder still as we begin our slow roll to New England. Our first overnight is in Galveston, TX to visit with family who live nearby in Seabrook. Glad we found this place. In the dark of night, the waters near the dock are full of miniscule twinkling and blinking green organisms. The iridescent emerald Tinkerbelles floating under water are mesmerizing to watch.

We arrived in time to drown under major thunderstorms and endure severe weather alerts. After lunch with family, we sat quietly scanning the sky for tornados as the swift advancement of dark rolling clouds swooped in from the ocean. Storms and lightning are never a comfortable situation when living in a metal rolling box.

Early am, off and rolling onward to Texarkana RV in Texarkana Texas for an overnight, somewhat wet but not overpoweringly drenched. Tornado’s, large hail and strong winds are creeping up close behind us. Grocery shopping, TV and early to bed for another first-thing-in-the-morning departure.

Again with an early rising to be out of storms way. Having my fill of the Elvis experience while paused repetitively in Red Bay Alabama, we sought alternatives to Elvis and his Graceland for our stop in West Memphis Arkansas. We will have the waters of the Mighty Mississippi out our front window while spending two overnights near its banks. Surrounded by giant cement plants, gas and oil refineries, tug boats and their cargo all giving off foul odors, it came close to detracting from the long wide ribbon of graceful flowing waters.

Nighttime and rains came first, then the snow. Not the cold wet kind but the fluffy white floating-through-the-air kind that irritates noses and inducing sneezes, causes runny noses and itchy eyes. It is the snow that comes from Cottonwood Trees. Tree pollen was maxed out at the top of the charts, exactly what caused my lungs to give out last year, so we opted for indoor entertainment for the two day traveling respite.

Tom Sawyer RV Park is in a flood zone. The trees housed many tiny houses and on the ground sat several tiny houses on wheels. All the utilities are mounted sky high among the tree tops, all dead giveaways to regular flooding.

We were given a peaceful end site with an exceptional water view.

The waterfront is landscaped on both sides by stately old growth oaks. The river takes on a fairyland appearance at night, small white and yellow lights mounted on barges twinkle in strange patterns, flowing past just shy of the river bank.  During the day, the wide stretch of water dominates the view.

We crossed over the Mississippi River to Memphis Tennessee.  You can see the top of the Bass Pro Pyramid from the top of the bridge.

Memphis is home to several iconic Blues, Jazz and Rock n Roll establishments, the hang outs and businesses of well-known musician superstars. Looking over our tour choices, we decided on Backbeat Bus Tours. The concept sounded interesting and a fun alternative to mundane canned speech bus tours. Each bus had musical instruments. Ours were two tambourines and a bucket full of tiny egg shaped rattles that sounded like rattle snake tails when snakes get ready to strike.

When the tambourines were given and accepted by one lady in front of us and one lady in back of us, I cringed, expecting a noisy racket for the whole ride. Catherine, our guitar player and entertaining informational guide began the tour and the sing along commenced. To my surprise, no racket, all jangling was in perfect timing with the guitar strumming. Who knew there were folks who could rock a tambourine?!

We began the tour at Beale Street in a bar, with me purchasing a scotch and water for John while he purchased the tour tickets. Drinking is allowed on the blocked off streets and on our tour bus.

One of the sights we drove past was The Blues Hall of Fame music museum that, until recently, was not a physical building but a listing of people who significantly contributed to blues music. The Blues Foundation began the list in 1980 but the actual building for the hall opened to the public in 2015.

At the end of our bus tour, we were dropped at Sun Studio for an add-on tour of the vintage recording studio that is still in use today.  The studio was opened by rock-and-roll pioneer Sam Phillips in 1950.  When the building that held the original broadcasting booth of Station WHBQ was being demolished, the studio removed it from the building, piece by piece, and reassembled it at the recording studio.

The vintage museum displays items from historic and iconic music legends including Elvis’s high school diploma,

the original recording microphone, guitars and pictures of Elvis, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis and Carl Perkins.  It also displayed a vintage TV, radio and phonograph console.  Myself, and many others in the group, recognized the console as one like their parents owned when they were young.  The lone guitar has a dollar bill wedged under the strings on its neck.  Unable to afford drums, it was said that Johnny Cash used the “cash” to make the sound of a snare drum in his 1956 hit, “I Walk The Line”.

The studio is still being used by stars such as Ozzie Osborn and our guide was very knowledgeable about the studio’s history and the history of those who began the Rock-n-Roll era.

When our two-part tour was complete, Bass Pro Shops giant Pyramid, spied from the bridge towering over the Mississippi, drew us into its parking lot.

When we entered the building, whoa, so cool! It’s gigantic inside! A store and multiple story luxury hotel, its décor is Disney-like with tiny lights, Louisiana swamp atmosphere and their trademark giant fish tank taking center stage. There is the ability to take an elevator ride to the top and walk outside the pyramid’s top, for a fee. Water venues with swimming fish and reptiles with huge flashing teeth squirm through the water on the base level.  John and I walked around, soaking in all the atmosphere. Definitely worth a look-see if you are in the area.

It is our last evening along the banks of the Mississippi river. Time to pack up and roll our way into Nashville.

We use Passport America campgrounds for evening stops along our way to a destination. It is a discount club for RV’ers. Park owners embrace the offer when they are a small park, do not fill to capacity, or want to attract more business. There have been times of pulling into these parks that I have wondered why it was Passport America. Tanbark Campground in Dixon Tennessee’s reason was obvious. Older park, lots of permanent residents, skin tight parking. We could see the whites of our neighbors eyes as they pulled into their site.

In route to Tanbark Campground we passed an accident on I40 West. A TDOT truck was paused on the side of the road while another worker was in front of the truck. An 18 wheeler didn’t obey the Move Over law and hit the TDOT truck and pushed it into the worker, killing the worker. The accident stopped the flow of traffic in the opposite direction for hours and we were witness to the obscene amount of 18 wheelers that roll down the road at one time.

Shocking to see a 20 mile stretch of predominantly 18 wheelers at a standstill. Five hours later the flow was released.

A quick grocery run, a restful quiet night at Tanbark Campground, come morning we were headed to Nashville. If you listen to The Highway, a country western music station on channel 56, you would think that Nashville is the new Las Vegas. The difference, a southern twang and minus the hordes of card snappers forcing skin flick pictures on unsuspecting tourists. Nashville’s The Highway claims that what goes on in Nashville, stays in Nashville. With all the trips we’ve taken to Las Vegas, there is a familiar ring to that statement.

With our enjoyable musical experience on the Memphis bus tour fresh in our minds, we opted for a comedic style musical experience in Nashville. This was an adult only tour, no one under 18 allowed. We were not the oldest on the bus but the songs were those of which most seniors would have familiarity. John and I had more fun than we expected. We knew the music, both of us being country western fans, and enjoyed all the little tidbits of funny comment that was tactlessly imparted by our two comedy guides.

We sang our way past many historic buildings, one being the Levitt Shell where Elvis first sang.

Our mid-way stop allowed us to stretch our legs and tour the famous Nashville Goo Goo Candy Factory,

and the Johnny Cash gift shop.

Kudos to Devon, our musical guitar guide and his excellent rendition of past and present hits and the sharing of his engaging original song. By the end of the tour we were blasting music, and our voices, out open bus windows. Several of us vintage tourists began waving our arm back and forth out the windows in time to the tunes. Most excellent tour, completely obliterated the plain old, plain old.

Our overnight for Nashville was the Nashville Elks Lodge in Franklin, Tennessee. Huge parking lot, no hook-ups, silent night, fair weather days and an enjoyable visit with cousins. Next destination, Cave City Kentucky.

Arriving at Singing Hills RV Park and Campground in Cave City Kentucky we could tell we were near Amish/Mennonite families. Listed on our rule sheet: “Please wear shirts and shoes outside. Please do not wear swimsuits in public”. The campground was a cozy vintage style with a catch and release fishing pond and first-rate location.

The country side is beautiful and our drive through the national park turned up several pair of wild turkeys.

Mammoth Cave is a U.S. National Park, the longest cave system known in the world. The park became a World Heritage Site in 1981 and an international Biosphere Reserve in 1990. The cave system runs under its 52,830 acres and consists of over 400 miles of surveyed passageways, twice as long as the second-longest cave system which is located in Mexico. New passageways continue to be discovered so its length will extend.

Arriving at the National Park, we viewed the Visitor Center’s excellent display, watching a documentary about the first tour guides and the history of Mammoth Cave’s exploration. A time line, stretching as far back as six thousand years, reveals cane torches used by Native Americans and other artifacts, drawings, gourd fragments and woven grass moccasin slippers that were found in the Salts Cave section of the Flint Ridge system.

The historic entrance, surveyed and registered in 1798 by Valentine Simons, was exploited for saltpeter reserves. In 1812 the cave changed owners and Hyman Gratz mined for calcium nitrate on an industrial scale. An African American slave, Stephen Bishop, was one of the first to make extensive maps of the cave, named many of the caves features and led guided cave tours during the 1840’s and 50’s. After changing hands several times, Mammoth Cave National Park was officially dedicated in 1941.

After you purchase tickets at the visitor center, the tour starts at one of the outside pavilions. You board a bus, it takes you to the entrance of the cave and your Ranger lists the do’s and do not’s. The cave entrance was not what anyone expected. Not a gaping hole with bats escaping but a steel and glass revolving door designed to allow as little air exchange as possible.

The Frozen Niagara Tour, the shortest available, was our choice. We weren’t sure how strenuous the walk would be and how I would fair climbing a little over 100 stairs. As it turned out, the paths had rails, were easy to follow, it was the perfect length of time and even the small children in our group were able to enjoy themselves.  Several of us noticed green on the formations.  We were informed that it was from the heat of the lights.  Money is being set aside for LED lights to help the cave return to a more natural state.

A bit claustrophobic in areas and slightly spine tingling when lights were turned off temporarily to demonstrate complete darkness but the experience left me calculating a future visit with the intention of hiking the longer trail. Our Ranger was engaging and the formations were fascinating.

Exiting the bus you are directed to wash your shoes to keep White-nose Syndrome from spreading. In North America, as of 2012, WNS disease is associated with 5.7 million bat deaths.

Another morning has arrived and this day will be a laid back day of exploration. We spied a junk shop, closed on Sunday, during our previous pass through town. Today the Olde General Store was open. The large wooden vintage warehouse and entrance was overwhelmingly stuffed with a mishmosh of everything no one would ever need or want.

The porch contained rusted out, broken metal everything, in no particular order.

John noticed a sign near the door that brought a chuckle.

We entered to the smell of cigarette smoke, the gentleman behind the counter drawing in long drags and asking from where we “hailed”. When we answered “Texas”, he smiled and said “that’s OK, you can come in anyway”.

When my lungs had their fill of smoke, mold, mildew and dust, we exited calling back “Thank you” and continued our exploration of the area.

We took the Green River Ferry to Detweiler’s Country Store, a hardware and grocery store. So many wonderful days-gone-by items for the home and health. Not wanting to be disrespectful, I left the camera in the car.

R & S Salvage Groceries, another Mennonite run business in Horse Cave Kentucky was our next stop. Our campground host claimed that they made the best doughnuts, fried pies and breads in the county. We arrived at a humongous 10,000 square foot warehouse filled with bulk dry foods, bulk frozen foods, deli meats, surplus and salvage goods and dozens of young workers busily tending the bakery, stocking shelves, cleaning isles and outside receiving. Again, the camera stayed in the car.

Back home to LilyPad to pack up and pull in, getting ready for our early morning departure and the continuation of our journey to Lee New Hampshire.

On our way to the Turnpike, buzzing slowly worked its way up to unbearable so we stopped at the roadside Lincoln Knob Creek Farm to let the car engine cool.  The buildings are not open to the public but hiking trails run through the farm.  The only other couple at the stop were the fully uniformed Family Motor Coach Association (FMCA) National Secretary and her husband strolling around the grounds.  Nice chat to catch up with FMCA events and stretch our legs.

Although Lincoln was not born at Knob Creek Farm, he admitted that the Farm was his first recollections.  In 1928, Hattie Howell Howard and her husband purchased the Farm to preserve the land and share the story of Lincoln’s early years in Kentucky.  To serve the growing number of tourists, they built the Lincoln Tavern which opened in 1933.  It is currently being renovated.

The small cabin was made from logs of the original Gollaher Cabin.  Austin Gollaher was a childhood friend of Abe.  It is believed that Austin was responsible for saving Abe’s life when Abe slipped into the river and Austin pulled him out.

KatieBug enjoyed her walk, John and I relaxed and the car got a cool down break.  We climbed aboard and were off down the road.

That high pitched and annoying screech, signaling our car transmission pump is not working properly, is at it again. Unhappily, it has been going off approximately every 60 to 100 miles beginning with our trip to Canton Texas. I’m confident it will continue until we reach our destination in New England. It’s one of many “it’s always something” items that have never been completely repaired. Now on our fourth year of rolling, it is the hardest broken part to which I must adjust. Annoyances are always present but none have noise associated with their in-need-of-repair condition.

With Mammoth Cave a past event, we looked forward to Makers Mark bourbon distillery. The car transmission pump was temporarily quiet and our next turn was within site. New buzzing combined with the flashing red lights on the dash signaling our motorhome engine was overheating. That wasn’t expected.  Noise, flashing lights, horrid smell, something was amiss. John said the strange smell was probably from the dozens of gigantic bourbon aging warehouses we had just passed.

The stench was increasing and when I glanced to the back of LilyPad, our bedroom was filled with thick white smoke. In my normal calm reserved voice, I directed John to pull over. (Yea, right…but that sounds so much better than the actual panicky horrified shrill screeching voice with which I demanded John to stop.) He wasn’t able to stop immediately and drove on for what seemed like hours, really only minutes, until he turned onto the distillery road and stopped in the middle of the street, inside a marked yellow zone.

Unhook the car, one visit to town and three hours later, John had fixed the problem of the blown coolant hose that spewed steam up into our bedroom. It took just enough time to make us late, the distillery tours now closed, so we did some purposeful walking to the gift shop, walked KatieBug and continued on our drive to Danville, Kentucky.

Stopping on the side of major highways and freeways are an unpleasant but necessary task when the car transmission pump failure sets off the alarm inside LilyPad. It is a situation made worse by seeing the remnants of the TDOT fatality only days previous. Having dozens of 18 wheelers fly past you shaking your car and motorhome like a rag doll should be a once in a lifetime experience yet here we are, on the side of the road, multiple times a day, for weeks on end, because our Lexus refuses to relax and roll along behind us willingly.

Along with stopping, our trips are made longer by having to slow down over the uneven sections of the some highways and freeways causing the motorhome tires to pound down on the pavement and jar our insides. Until this three year old unsolved dilemma has been mended, we will be stopping indefinitely, every 60 to 100 miles.

A quick overnight at the campground of Pioneer Playhouse in Danville Kentucky to meet the owner, Charlotte Henson, widow of the founder Col. Eben C. Henson. He established the outdoor theater in 1950 and it is the oldest theater in Kentucky. Notable alumni actors include Lee Majors, John Travolta and Jim Varney. The playhouse is the first theater in the nation to be given the legal status of State Theater by act of Legislation. Fingers crossed that we are selected as workampers for the six week season next summer. Finally, a workamp position that sounds delightfully fun!

I’ve made a “best of” list to review when negative thoughts attempt to adjust my attitude. At times, the “it’s always something” can be a real joy killer and happy thoughts are needed to reverse going-down-hill-fast, especially when under severe duress. My list so far includes…Best view: Inspiration Point, Bryce Canyon, Utah. Best apples: Pike Place Market, Seattle, Washington. Best tomatoes: Kruse Farms, Roseburg, Oregon. Friendliest workamping Rangers: Washington on the Brazos, Texas.  Best Elks Lodge: Chico Elks Lodge, Chico, California.

My one page Bucket List keeps expanding, although I have only experienced two destinations on my original list, so I expect my “Best Of” list will change as we continue to roll along.

Our next destination, high on my Bucket List, Lancaster and Pennsylvania Dutch Country.  Land of The Amish and Mennonites.  I am preparing to be fascinated.