Then, there was the Pink Elephant. But that was midway
through the trip. It started with a ride back in time.
Skirt the bottom edge of Kentucky west of Franklin in
Simpson County, and the road turns into a one lane affair with curves, no,
corners edging the ancient farm boundaries. Large trunked trees align the road
with wide canopies that have roots under the pavement they’re so close. Red
barns that sit so close to a car side view mirror one could touch an ant if he
was climbing up the painted planks. The land of the Red River, southern
version, and the early mills that made use of it. Both Price’s Mill and Logan’s
Mill were along the route we took. Price’s still had some remnants of its
building, but it was Logan’s that still had a beautiful long waterfall spread
flat and even across the river where once the milling took place. Water was the
foundation of any settlement in those days. Without it, there was no Kentucky.
That portion of Kentucky lays flat and reminds of the
Midwest in places. Small towns can be seen afar off by way of their water
tower. Adairville was the first of any size we passed after the mills. A town
that shown signs of an early wealthy class, with a large fountain park in the
town square that sat in the shadow of an empty grocery store and a deserted
portion of the first Dixie Highway route. It was the place just down the road
next to the border where Andrew Jackson in his younger days fought a duel and
shot a man. The sign in tribute was on display in the park. It was a different
sign we photographed today, however. The street signs at the corner of
Prohibition Alley and Church. It just seemed poignant.
Off further west, we passed Dot, Kentucky, which at one time
still had a lone store but had finally converted the building to a private
residence, giving up any semblance of a
history of buying and selling in the spot. Keysburg was still holding on with a
quick stop that offered tanning, however. Though it was a building with clear
plastic sides akin to a tent one might see at a campground.
Guthrie was another water tower. Here was a place where the
crossroads of all rail travel for the southern United States happened. Everyone
had to go through Guthrie, which was soon named after the President of the L
& N. A hundred buildings had lined the Main Street. A house resembling a
castle shadows the Opera House. The trains seemed to never stop.
We all know they did. A jolt to the present day and all but
a handful of buildings remain. The castle is still there, as is the Opera House
sitting vacant. A million or so dollars has been injected to renovate a few of
the remaining buildings that had started to fall in. Hopes for a travel museum
highlighting the glory days of rail travel for the old drug store that still
advertises Coca-Cola for a nickel on century old bricks. RJ Corman freight
trains lumber by.
On the way out past the rest of the town, we passed a Pink
Elephant outside a Phillips 66. I made a U-Turn to get the picture of the Route
66esk occasion. Onward to Elkton.
It’s the Todd County Courthouse that stands out rather than
the water towers here. Since 1835 a token of justice and order, now a welcome
center and small museum staffed with southern hospitality. Across the street, a
meal at an old style soda fountain, L & R Soda Bar. More Coca-Cola signage.
A working juke box with free plays. Ice Cream in delicious flavors. Burgers
with bacon.
Go for the road. Go for the history. Go for the food. Take a
picture of the Elephant.