Obviously I've hit some sort of Bluegrass Kick, and in an effort to stick with it I decided to rearrange my travels to include Owensboro, Kentucky, home to the International Bluegrass Music Museum and Hall of Honor.
Travelin' was pretty, as usual...
Good ol' Blue Ridge Mountain Parkway!
And I finally hit lizard habitat. Awesome.
The Bluegrass Museum was wonderful, with old suits and guitars from the stars. I had my first sample of Sweet Tea from a bistro down the road, and was sent to Rosine, Kentucky, homeplace of Bill Monroe:
Enchanting. The same property they hold the Jerusalem Ridge Bluegrass Festival at. I received a tour from a very nice guide.
Apparently, this is the home where Bill Monroe lived until his teens, when his parents died and he moved in with his Unlce Pen. Yes, Uncle Pen is real. Which makes it an even better song, if that's possible! Bill was the youngest sibling by 10 years, definitely the 'baby' - his family wasn't so bad-off for his time, either, with a coal mine in the back yard and timber sales from the same . But, times get hard, and Bill's brother Charlie ended up selling most of the land to a grinch of a man, who owns most of that land to-date - along with most of the county. Bill has tried repeatedly to regain the land where he was born and raised, but every time he came to the owner with the money, the grinch would raise the price.
Apparently, this is the home where Bill Monroe lived until his teens, when his parents died and he moved in with his Unlce Pen. Yes, Uncle Pen is real. Which makes it an even better song, if that's possible! Bill was the youngest sibling by 10 years, definitely the 'baby' - his family wasn't so bad-off for his time, either, with a coal mine in the back yard and timber sales from the same . But, times get hard, and Bill's brother Charlie ended up selling most of the land to a grinch of a man, who owns most of that land to-date - along with most of the county. Bill has tried repeatedly to regain the land where he was born and raised, but every time he came to the owner with the money, the grinch would raise the price.
After visiting the old homeplace of the Father of Bluegrass, it's high time I head toward the coast. This time traveling south through Chattanooga toward Asheville, I hit an amazing ride, full of winding roads and white water rapids below. A much better option than traveling back through Pigeon Forge again - Outside the Smokies, that built-up sprawl was nothing to write home about, so I won't. Instead, enjoy some more pictures of my return to the Blue Mountains:
Tunnel through the Mountain
TVA: Snail Darter Killers.
Goodbye, Tennessee...
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