May 8, 2014.  Penultimate day on the road.

Before long, we arrived at the area I had read about with interest in the truck the other day – literally called Land Between the Lakes.  It is the largest inland peninsula in the US, spanning significant parts of middle TN and western KY and lying between Kentucky Lake on the west and Lake Barkley on the east (named after Albert Barkley, a Kentuckian who was HST’s VEEP).  This whole tremendous area was confiscated by the Federal government and designated as a National Recreation Area by President Kennedy in 1963.  Wikipedia reports that many area residents resented the condemnation of their lands, especially when it was explained to them that most of the area was not to be flooded but rather to become a park.  The former settlements of Tharpe, TN, Model TN and Golden Pond, KY were forcibly abandoned.  This strikes a particular sour note with me, as I recall vividly how overwrought we all were when the Corps of Engineers in the mid-1960s condemned my Aunt Ginny’s gorgeous 60-acre home on banks of the Chattahoochee River to build West Point Dam for flood control.   While flood control was a noble and successful goal for the dam, Aunt Ginny’s beautiful home was not (as they had warned) put underwater, but magically changed from a woodland bird and wildflower sanctuary to a stunning lake front property, which (because the COE would not let anyone occupy it) fell into ruin, was enjoyed by vandals, and collapsed over the ensuing 25 years.   Eventually, the COE allowed a crowd from Columbus to restore it and now it is used as a public event space, for weddings and things like that.  We rented it for Daddy’s second wedding!  Daddy (then age 91) spent his honeymoon night in his sister’s bedroom.  Brad and I slept down the hall in Uncle Ed’s old bedroom.  We all had breakfast the next morning in the garden on the banks of the lake — its was beyond fantastic.

Yesterday, we pulled over for lunch in one of the scenic overlooks in the Land Between the Lakes.  We had chilled salad nicoise with nut bread and the rest of Polly’s olives that she brought to Utah directly from Greece last week (basically, tuna fish sandwiches, which were delicious).  Afterwards, we looked in on a few of the campsites and other amenities of this Kennedy-era playground.

We plunged into Nashville late in the afternoon — it was a long drive for some reason.  At the entrance to Bledsoe State Park (our destination), I noted with interest a huge sign saying that anyone using alcohol or drugs in the park would not only be evicted without ceremony but also prosecuted within an inch of his or her life.  This sign was repeated about every 50 feet.  I started planning what glasses we would use for our cocktail hour.  Coffee mugs?

Our final campsite is, once again, on the banks of a lake.  Each lake has its own personality.   This one is almost swamp-like, with cypress knees and marsh reeds along the shoreline and the distinctive Southern aroma of teaming pond life.   We walked along the shoreline path to a long wooden dock and pavilion for viewing wildlife.  I stalked a blue heron with Brad’s camera and watched him (the heron) catch several fish from his comfortable knee-high stance in the water, but I couldn’t entice him to fly away in that picturesque way they have.  It was getting too dark for good pictures anyway.

After dinner, Brad and I had one final game of Canasta — in which he beat the dickens out of me — gleefully I might add.   Time to head up the wagon for home.  Tomorrow we’ll be having dinner with Jennie and Joyce and (we hope) Phil and Athalie and Tom and Chylon and Zac!