Kentucky Traffic Safety Message

We cheated death once more. pulling into Cape in late afternoon. I tried to shoot a few frames of the Nashville skyline at the split, but decided that I didn’t want the last photo before (or during) the wreck to be of the Nashville skyline.

Kentucky reinforces safety message

Had I seen this memorial to Kentucky traffic fatalities BEFORE I got to Nashville, I might not have tried to shoot the skyline photo from a moving car. I pull into that rest area on almost every trip, but I don’t recall seeing the memorial before.

 

Northbound TN I-24

The trip back home to Cape has been mostly uneventful. Getting out of Florida was a wet slog, but traffic was light and my Rain-X meant that I rarely had to run my windshield wipers.

I’m not a big Stephen King fan, but I loaded one his books in my MP3 player and have had the miles click off listening to the horrible happenings in Desperation, NV. Maybe they’re clicking off so quickly because the book dampens any desire you have to go on backroads through desolate countryside.

Most of Thursday was spent escaping Georgia. It’s kind of disheartening to have to go through l0ng states like Florida and Georgia. You have a better feeling of making progress when you’re going through skinny states like Tennessee (if you’re going north and south, that is).

Atop Nickajack Lake bridge

Traffic was moving fine until I got to Atlanta at rush hour. Boy, RUSH hour is a misnomer. They should call it Crawl Hour.

I rounded a curve north of Chattanooga and mentally kicked myself for not being ready to shoot a high railroad bridge that crosses the highway.

I decided I’d better take advantage of the few minutes of daylight I had left to capture the foothills of the eastern Continental Divide.

The photo at the top was taken as we were starting to climb the big bridge over Nickajack Lake, about a third of the way between Chattanooga and Monteagle Pass. The second shot was taken just ever the top of the bridge.

Garish fireworks stand

This fireworks store has always fascinated me, but never enough to get off The Big Road to stop, particularly with a Stephen King horror book playing in the background.

I should be pulling into Cape late Friday afterno0n.

Headed Home at Dusk

Folks ask how I decide what’s going to be on the page the next day. I sure wish I could tell you the formula..

I was dipping into my old office email the other day looking for something when I ran across a post I had made to a forum for telecommunications managers. This is an update to a post I had put up on a Friday worrying about a tropical storm headed our way. It mentioned a backyard trim-trimming adventure.

That story came to mind when I saw this photo of trees and a white fence whipping by my car at dusk. One plus one equals a blog post. (You can make the photos larger by clicking on them.)

Here’s the tree trimming story:

When I left you all on Friday, I was complaining that Tropical Storm Gamma was projected to follow Wilma’s path (right over the top of my house). Fortunately, despite the huge headline in our paper Saturday morning that said, “Here We Go Again,” it not only didn’t hit us, it turned into a fishspinner in the Gulf.

Unfortunately, Wife Lila decided that since we were in a hurricane mindset, we (meaning me) should get rid of a 40-foot non-native tree in the backyard “before the next storm blows it down.”

This tree is 15 feet from our storage shed, one foot from our fence, seven feet from our neighbor’s house and brushes the power lines.

Shouldn’t be problem, right?

I swamped off the two lowest branches and attached a rope about 20 feet up the trunk to help guide the tree’s fall. Then, I made a notch in the tree in the direction it was supposed to go and started to make the final cut, just like I learned in Boy Scouts 45 years ago.

When I heard the first crack, I decided to take up a little more tension on the rope. That was a good idea and a bad idea. Good, because the tree appeared to be leaning a bit in the wrong direction. Bad, because it was and I returned to find my saw blade trapped.

Kid, bring your chain saw

Wife Lila calls Kid Matt to bring his chain saw and to practices dialing 9-1-1.

The neighbors are looking out their second story window. They don’t wave back.

Kid comes with saw and second rope. When I pull on the rope, I can make the tree sway enough to free my saw blade. More cracking noises happen, but not enough to satisfy me, so I attack the tree with the saw again and prove that the law of gravity has not been repealed.

Tree falls to ground with satisfying THUD! missing the shed, the fence, the neighbors and the power line.

The neighbors still didn’t wave back.

I feel safe in crossing off lumberjack as a career option.

And, for the record, alcoholic beverages were not involved in this project.

 DZ has bright idea

Several managers shared their treetrimming experiences, but a virtual buddy, DZ, had a revenue-generating idea. (That’s why he’s a manager, I suppose.)

Lumber jack may not be in the cards for you. But rule number one when undertaking such a task is to set up the video camera. If it went really bad (like hit the shed or neighbors house) you may have been able to make some money on America’s Funniest Home Videos (or COPS)….

Some things are better left unrecorded

I explained to DZ that might not be a good ideal:

After Hurricane Wilma, gas stations couldn’t pump gas because the power was out and our carriers were close to not being able to deliver the paper because their tanks were dry. We managed to acquire 1,000+ gallons of unleaded from a variety of local sources and set up a pumping station in the back parking lot for carriers and essential employees.

I started to take some pictures for our in-house publications, but decided that we were probably bending, if not breaking, about 42 zillion OSHA and zoning regulations and that a permanent record of that might not be a good idea.

Ditto my lumberjacking.

Tree? What Tree? Must have been termites

“Tree? What tree? Must have been some weird strain of termites the storm blew in that ate right through that sucker. Waving at you? No, I was waving to warn you to get back from the windows because the troop of trunk-eating termites were causing the tree to sway. Good thing I had time to get a rope around it. Chainsaw? I was swatting the termites with it.”

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Speaking of heading home

Speaking of heading home, things may be a bit light for a few days. I’m headed back to Cape this week, Lord willin’ and creeks don’t rise. I’ll have to tear down all my computer gear Tuesday so I can be on the road Wednesday.

Anyone have anything they’d like me to shoot or research while I’m in Cape? No promises, but your chances of success are improved if your press the DONATE button at the top left of the page. It takes a lot of gas to get to Cape and back.

By the way, Wife Lila has taken over Son Matt’s gardening blog and is doing a super job with it. She’s probably going to tell you that my story and pictures don’t match. She’s right. (Which is ALWAYS the safe answer.)

Old McKendree Chapel in 1962

Old McKendree Chapel is one of those other places I always swing by when I’m home. Maybe one of the appeals is the way the site changes so little. This photo was taken in 1962.

Some trees are missing

Storms and old age have taken their toll on a lot of the trees, but the grounds look much the same in this photo from 2006. One of the biggest changes in the building itself was the removal of the weatherboard siding in 1977. There’s some controversy over which is the “authentic” rendition of the building. You can read a more complete history of the church in a 2010 post where I described the nefarious trap the Methodists set to recruit wayward Lutherans.

Logs had been covered

The same Lutheran-snagging door shown in this 1962 photo is still there, even if the siding is gone.

Photo used on phone book

One of my 2010 photos was used on the cover of the Cape-Jackson telephone directory.

Lane leading to chapel

The old chapel sticks out when the leaves are off the trees.