Tag: road trip

Snow Falls – West Paris Maine

P1010001So after taking that little detour to Fort Edgecomb I continued driving to my actual destination – Snow Falls in West Paris Maine. The funny thing about waterfalls, hiking trails, covered bridges, and other fun roadside attractions is that they don’t have an actual address. I had no idea how hard this one was going to be to find but I figured a mechanic also named Snow Falls might be close by! So I typed that in and low and behold when I drove up my destination it was actually obvious for once. The falls were at a rest stop, a very bright and open rest stop. I drove in and found this place was awesome. They even had little camping grills out for anyone who wanted to enjoy them. Though I must say their amenities were a bit primative. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to use an outhouse!

DSC_0358Still, the trails that headed over to the falls were short, easy to walk, and provided far more beautiful a scene than I had expected. Apparently the falls were named after Captain Snow who had a camp set up just about where the picnic tables are. He was a fur trapper at the time living out in the wilds of Maine pretty far from any real white settlements. This may be why he ultimately died during a brutal Indian raid – easy pickins’ I suppose. The tale tells of an Indian chief leading the raid wearing an entire eagle over his head, it’s wings outstretched, and it’s beak agape. Quite an image! This happened sometime in the 1750’s or 60’s, as several historical accounts contradict each other.

It seems here in the States we like to forget our bloody history of territorial skirmishes but having visited the site of a fort (first built to keep people safe from Indians and then to fend off the British) and then coming here… well, it certainly colors your view of your country’s origins!

The Falls themselves were littered with the ruins of three mills which once spanned the property – a chair factory, a paper mill, and a wood pulp mill, which spanned from sometime before the 1850’s until 1900 or so. The first two mills burned down, the third probably just decayed, but their stone foundations are still there for everyone to see and they’re quite beautiful if you’re into that sort of Gothic decay.

(Scroll past the gallery to get to a bonus funny story – what happened after we drove away from the falls!)

 

 

None of us had been to West Paris so when we got hungry no one knew where to go. I typed in three separate restaurants into the GPS and found one was a farm stand with only fresh produce, another two were closed, and FINALLY after going past the damn waterfalls going back and forth three or four times we ended up back in town at the Market Square Family Restaurant. This proved a fateful decision.

We were all famished and ready to eat. I ordered the turkey casserole and my mother and her friend both got the scallops. The waitress was a happy woman but with the attention span of a gnat. I could dismiss this but when she put those scallops on the table we were all hit with the rank stench of bad fish. Neither my mother or her friend dared even try eating it and I told them not to because I was driving and didn’t need to be pulling over every three minutes because someone has food poisoning. My turkey casserole wasn’t much better. It appeared to be a bag of stuffing cooked and topped off with canned turkey, three pieces of broccoli, and a healthful crust of prepackaged French onions. Semi-homemade cooking alright! I was so hungry I didn’t care and ate it anyway…

My mother was so put off she said no to the offer of a different meal. June reordered a hamburger figuring that was something they couldn’t fuck up. Well! That was where she was wrong. A tiny shriveled hamburger came out looking like it’d been hacked off a mummy, with the same anemic gray coloration and wrinkles. The bun didn’t seem any more fresh… June stuffed it in her purse so she could leave without making it look like she neglected to eat two meals…  She noted all the cars in the parking lot were from out of state.

We literally had to drive to McDonalds down the road to get something that was at least not rancid to eat. So I pulled up into the drive through and was about to order when my mother started screaming. Apparently some genius had put sprinklers out to water the three inches of lawn and aimed them directly into the windows of people driving up. She got absolutely drenched in ice cold water. Free shower!

I parked after ordering because I got myself an ice cream. As we sat there my mother found herself tickled beyond measure by an elderly Canadian couple parked in a very shiny convertible in front of us. They took about three hours to get in and get ready to drive off, taking out their hats and even an adorable little travel scarf I’ve never seen a man wear before in my life. His wife had a sun hat. In a convertible. The whole scene had my mother laughing so hard she nearly pissed herself and this went on for twenty minutes or so before he finally drove off, going the same pace as a slug. Maybe that sun hat would stay on after all…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

 

 

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Gallivanting in Peterborough NH

Today had drop dead gorgeous weather but being a holiday weekend it was coupled with an inordinate amount of insane drivers so I didn’t really want to go too far… and I did have to go to the feed store to pick up a bag of food for my lovely bunnies. So I decided I’d got to Peterborough, which was two towns over, forsaking the feed store in town and the one that was one town over. Peterborough is about twenty minutes away but why just go directly there when you can meander? Little was I to know I was about to take a four hour ride into the most beautiful bits of nowhere.

I decided I would forsake all main roads and start going down a few rural dirt roads which I felt were going in the right direction. My hunch proved right! But before I made it to the feed store I started seeing the most wildly beautiful things. The first little discovery I found was on Sharon road. It was an abandoned bridge attached to a road that the wilderness has taken over. I stopped the car and parked on the shoulder of the road so I could explore further on foot. The bridge itself was beautiful made with intricate stonework. The river it spanned was even more stunning and I was delighted to see that it was still connected to an abandoned road. Of course I had to know where it led so I sauntered across the bridge and walked into the forest. This place was wild. Clearly there had once been a paved road here but over the years the plant life had grown up and reclaimed the land as it’s own. This place reminded me of a fairy tale – wild, mysterious, overgrown, and the smell of the river was absolutely heavenly. The “road” didn’t go very far, it just attached itself to another road running parallel to the one I had left not too far away. Still it was a wonderful little find and in 80 degree weather it was probably just long enough!

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

 

From here I wandered badly on a bunch of little roads that I found interesting. I criss-crossed the river several times and found another adorable bridge – though this was far more modern I had fun crawling under it. Judging by the tags an dthe empty beer bottle I wasn’t the only one to find it!

As I crawled back up to my car I couldn’t help but feel so lucky in having found this whole area. It was so quiet, alive only with the gurgling of the river. Occasionally I’d find a farm here and there, or other properties that clearly used to be farms, places that owned vast acreages. It was breath taking and I was often rewarded with the sight of deer, wild flowers, and views of Mount Monadknock.

Eventually I made it to the feed store. I bought my bunny food. I came out feeling like I still needed to poke around for a bit. So that’s what I did. I turned into a plaza I had driven by hundreds of times and learned all sorts of things aout Peterborough’s history! Here there was a sign that told of the founding of the town, badly damaged with age, apparently no one has paid much attention to it for some time. Here, right aside the road, was another view of the river which was choked with water lilies. As I walked  back to my car I noticed another car drive around the building. I pondered this and decided to go for it. That’s when I found myself transported through time. I had no idea this building was an old mill but it’s backside made t his obvious. Even more stunning was a dam and a waterfall which must have been used once to generate electricity. Who knew this was in cute little Peterborough?!

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Seattle Washington

I was asked what Seattle was like and I didn’t really have an answer. It always struck me as a sort of yuppie city, famous for coffee and sour dough bread. Also I heard it rained a lot. So what’s in Seattle to see? I don’t know, the Space Needle?

The Space Needle is one thing but what else is there? I had no idea so I asked my phone. It told me of a troll living under a bridge… so I went to check that out. I don’t think I expected a giant troll grasping a real Volkswagen Bug in its hands. I had some teenagers take a photo and then I wandered off to see what else was in the area (besides the overwhelming stench of a local tomcat.)

I ended up in front of a bunch of eateries. Before coming here today I realized the budget could no longer stand up to eating out every few days and I decided to stop this and go back to the PB&J sandwiches, which by the way do not fill you up and after awhile instead train your belly on a constant grumbly aching for real food. However there was a place here selling shawarma, and the idea of something I normally cook at home being served here was doubly tempting… Shawarma is a dish usually made of lamb or pork, shoved in a pita pocket and drowned in garlic sauce. It’s a Turkish/Dutch dish and I had made it a few times using turkey as a substitute. It’s pub food, what can I say? Filling and delicious. I walked by but not with much conviction.

This place must have been the artsy neighborhood. It was filled with weird art everywhere including unexplained works in the making and a crazy bum wielding a guitar while talk-singing to himself and telling the Laundromat off. So that’s where people get their chips installed these days… I always thought that was the dentist…

There were college students everywhere here, in every eatery, even the Vietnamese hot noodle place. I walked back to the car only to have my hunger hit again. I wandered around the neighborhood looking for a place to park but there was absolutely nothing. Now I was starting to see why everyone here seemed to be riding a bike or jogging. Even the middle aged people, potbellies and all, were seen jogging down the streets with an I-Pod and a step-o-meter on their hip with an expression of, “Why am I doing this to myself??” I failed at finding a parking space and left, ending up at Green Lake.

Green Lake is a nice little lake with a two and a half mile track around it which cyclists, joggers, and dog walkers go around and around on. It was flat, perfect for this sort of activity I wasn’t feeling all that great and was hungry to boot. I walked back to the car after finding the lake had nothing particularly interesting in or around it. I made one final note about the people here… they all seemed to have dogs… old muttly dogs which looked like they’d been in the family for twenty years… now that’s some dedication!

I left the city hungry and found a grocer’s nearby. I had gotten there a little after the deli counter had started to get ready to close shop. The woman there was not in any mood to deal with me and despite her name being Angel she was far from one. She pretended I wasn’t there… for ten minutes… and when I didn’t leave she yelled, “WHAT YOU WANT?!” I cleared my throat and answered as best I could which caused a great deal of muttering. She was either reciting a hex or cursing me out in a foreign tongue. Either way… little weird. I had to dodge the turkey and cheese as she threw it full force across the counter, continuing to curse. WOW. Paying for these choices took another twenty minutes at the counter as most of the registers were completely abandoned and the one that was open for some reason only wanted to deal with everyone but me despite the fact I was in the queue….?? Yup. One of those days.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


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Elephant Seal Beach

After San Francisco it was back to beach combing, this time in Point Reyes. I drove through a world of cows. There were fat cows, skinny cows, spotted cows, black cows, fenced in cows, and free roaming cows. I even found an escaped cow next to a broken fence. I wasn’t sure why I was driving through this bovine bevy but I don’t ask a lot of questions to begin with. Besides the cows there were other strange sights including four huge male elk just strutting through the fields like they owned the place, carrying with them the largest antlers I had ever seen. I guess they were lucky I wasn’t a hunter! I shot them instead with my camera. Gorgeous beasties.

I was unable to find a walkable beach, however at the end of one road I did find Elephant Seal Beach Overlook. It was a ¼ of a mile walk… and I was in no mood. The wind was blowing so hard that there were flying monkeys being slammed into the rocks ahead of me. Somehow I managed to slide out of the Jeep, after changing my clothes to jeans, a sweater, and my winter trench coat. I walked down the path, barricaded by handrails which I clung to whenever the wind threatened to tip me over. At one point the gales nearly threw me off my feet and I was grateful for those handrails! I couldn’t get that close to the seals but there they were, as promised… a beach full of bloated, enormous seals with funny noses. Of course I could only distinguish this by using the fantastic zooming abilities of the camera. Binoculars probably would have been helpful, still I did see something in the wild I never would have before! I went back to the Jeep nearly frozen. The cows stared at me as I left, wondering who I was and why I was there so late.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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San Francisco California

After seeing all the other Californian cities before San Francisco I was a bit desensitized. Still, San Francisco was historically more interesting than the other cities, It was no LA that’s for sure! It’s quiet, its cute, and its full of 90 degree hills, it’s lovable in a 3-D sort of way.

Though I do know various tidbits of San Fransisco history I wasn’t really sure where to go myself. I knew I wanted to check out the Haight and go down Lombard street just to be the ultimate geeky tourist. I headed towards Haight-Ashbury, the former and apparently now reestablished hippie mecca. Had one of those bizarre moments when I knew I was getting near because I recognized one of the houses. Took me a couple of hours to figure out why. I think I recognized it from some old news footage in Tom Brockaw’s (spelling?) 1968 documentary. This is one of the handful of documentaries I play whenever its on, which is often…

Anyway, I knew when I hit the Haight. There was a sudden burst of psychedelic colors washing out over the windows and buildings. Murals were everywhere. So was tie-dye T-shirt shops as well as a lot of other adorable little fashion outlets. When I initially parked I wasn’t sure if I could because there was a sign on the meter that said something about construction and no parking. there was a burly hippie dude in the front of a music store and when asked if I could park here he said nothing, just approached the meter, ripped off the sign, threw it in a nearby trashcan and announced, “Is now!”

I walked into the music store. It had beautiful instruments but having no musical inclinations I had no idea about any of them. I did hit a few record stores as well which had an absolutely delicious selection of things, the most variety I’d ever seen. I didn’t look too close. I probably would have bought half the store if I could.

I stopped in at one of the artsy looking stores. There were wood carvings here that blew my mind. One piece of wood carved into two tangoing dinosaurs with exquisite detail was the first thing I saw. The second thing was an entire wall, including a bedframe with cabinets, all a conglomerate of tiny carvings. It was amazingly 3-D. Of course there was a big wooden Buddha people had left coins on and a Ganesh I couldn’t help but petting. He’s the Hindu protector of travelers after all…

Another interesting store I stopped by was some sort of freakish antiques and bad taxidermy shop. It had not just jackalopes but a squirrel riding a bunny rodeo style, several finch headed necklaces, squirrels dressed up as dolls, a fancy rat poised over a trap, and other very badly taxidermied little things that just looked dried up, twisted, and weird. If animals weren’t your thing they also had a shrunken head and the tiny severed foot of a Chinese woman from back in the days when binding was practiced. Oh and there was also a pickled tattoo of some sort… and funny enough a book about the Mutter Museum. Upstairs was a gallery of scary art and a deep purple embossed velvet child-sized casket, very Victorian looking.

All and all I left the Haight happy, happy enough to take a crack at Lombard street, which by the way is a one way street, and which our navigation at first brought us to the wrong side of. Another foil in planning when I got back to Lombard I drove it for quite awhile without seeing the characteristic eight hairpin turns lined up one after another. Back to the phone. It told me Lombard street’s crooked section was only one block and it told me where so off I went. When I first saw what the Jeep was in for I patted it’s dash and told it I was sorry. It groaned in return but made it just fine past all the turns! No one else was keeping entertained with this street as I was and the pedestrians seemed to think the Jeep was too fat for such a stunt, they looked on with an expression of delighted horror. After this three small cars appeared and followed suit.

Today was a good day for a little bit of ocean fun so I headed to Pier 37. I didn’t know what it was but it was listed as a tourist destination in the brochure I got from the Salinas campground. As it turns out Pier 37 it is a boardwalk full of fried foods, ice cream, little tourist shops, corny entertainment, street performers, and restaurants. I watched some break dancing and perused some magnet shops before making my way to the actual pier where rumor had it that there were seals. I wasn’t disappointed. There was a group of fat seals all sitting on the docks barking at each other and lazily basking in the sun. It was a nice end to this little trip to the sea front.

After leaving Pier 37 it was decided that the Full House house should be found for the appropriate shits and giggles. I looked it up and in another dorky excursion checked it out, snapping one photo to the complete befuddlement of the car behind us.

It was after this I just happened to stumble across an amazing surprise called the Fine Arts Lagoon. When I read the sign I thought of an art gallery in front of a big black body of water, possibly filled with monsters. It was nothing like that. Instead it was an enormous structure of Greek columns nestled aside a good sized lagoon, absolutely filled with red-eared sliders and big scary carp. Ducks also lined the shores and one swan watched me walk by, politely not beating me to death with its wings, as swans are prone to do. This place was gorgeous and serene, something I had never heard of, yet it was such a treasure! I walked all the way around the lagoon and through the columns, decorated with stunning Greco-Roman styled ornamentation including large vases and absolutely perfect figures of women. We read the signs, and found out this place was built in the 20’s as both a wildlife refuge and a testimonial to art itself. I had a couple Asian women take a photo in front of it.

Finally I decided to go to Golden Gate Park to get a photo in front of the Golden Gate bridge. I found another Asian family to take the photo. I was asked to get  up on the wall but I yelled, through the phenomenal sound of gusting wind, “I can’t! My skirt is blowing everywhere!” This made the two Asian women in the background giggle to each other. I am glad I amused someone… I was having a Hell of a time with my ankle length, very light weight skirt. I was holding it in bunches with both hands to keep it down and I was failing. I was happy to be back in the Jeep.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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Big Sur California

Big Sur was weird. I though it was just a single park named Big Sur that had beautiful coastlines and redwoods. Instead I found out that Scenic Coast Route Highway 1 would bring me through six separate parks, all named something different but all considered the Big Sur area. Big Sur apparently was the river bordering each. To add to the confusion there were free beaches and scenic overlooks right off the highway about every 500 feet it seemed. So why pay for the park and where? I never figured this one out. The information center did nothing but complicate issues. Whatever, back to the beaches I went!

I took lots of photos of the rough and jagged rocky coastline being battered by angry waves. I even found my way down to a beach. It was oddly devoid of shells but it was absolutely gorgeous. I was inspired by the colorful plant life clinging to all the rocks. It was definitely different from the beaches back home as well as every other beach I’d been to. I liked it there.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

 

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Tuscon Arizona

I drove to Tucson to find a place to sleep, grocery shop, do laundry, and take it easy for a day. I didn’t really realize that this is the perfect city for that. All the buildings are one or two stories high and everything is very spread out. The roads are not crowded, there isn’t any traffic, the people are friendly and relaxed. I stopped at Wal-Mart to restock on food. I used the bathroom there as well and found a girl with an uncontrollable bloody nose. She was an older teenager, trying desperately to get it to stop. She’d filled the waste basket with blood soaked paper towels. I asked if she needed me to call someone. She declined so I left her. I had heard of someone else who had a nose bleed like that… she ended up at the hospital where she tangoed with a cauterizing tool.

I drove on to find a battery store (to get a battery tester) at goodwill, and then the Laundromat which was right across the way. It was called Dean’s Village Laundromat. The place was almost empty, spacious, and very bright. We were immediately greeted by the attendant and set up doing two loads of laundry. There was a nice little spot outside to go, with a playground for the kids. Inside was a lovely little waiting room with two vending machines, lots of magazines, and a TV. I also used their bathroom and it was very clean.

I sat back and just lounged for awhile. This was a welcome respite, not to mention a cheap one. This was the cheapest Laundromat I’d come across at $1.25 per load of laundry and $1.00 (four cycles) to dry my clothes.

The store owner came in to refill the vending machine, which soon became possessed and decided it’d dispense two of every snack it had onto the floor as he tried to figure out what was wrong. It also beeped angrily. This went on for quite some time and I was both laughing and joking with the poor guy, along with some of the regulars who had come in. Apparently the guy changing the vending machine was the owner of the place.

I ended up talking to the regulars. They all had travelled various amounts to and pointed out some places I could go. When asked where I going next  a slightly fuzzy-sounding “Phoenix?” was offered, to which they replied with disdain, “Phoenix, why on earth would you want to go there??” This is never good, when locals from a surrounding town give such a vividly concerning response. On that note, Hi Fitchburg MA! God knows I love ya!

I finished my laundry and went on my way to check out the local park, Saguaro National Park. Apparently they had cactuses, lots of them, the kind you see in cartoons that stretch to the sky and have two outstretched arms about to hug any passerby. However driving there I saw in residential neighborhoods every cactus conceivable even these big iconic ones, which as it turns out, do not look anything like they are normally depicted. Instead of two perfectly symmetrical arms they had arms jutting out from every corner and angle and growing in such odd fashions, some growing sideways, some upwards, and some even downwards. These cactuses looked like the eight-legged frogs that kept showing up in the 90’s. They looked like mutants! Still they were very big, some stretching over telephone poles and roofs. People had cactus gardens in their front yards filled with bright pink cactuses and all sorts of odd shapes and funny colors. I even found one house, surrounded by a six foot fence, which seemed to be in the process of being eaten whole by a huge forest of overgrown cactuses.

In any event when I finally reached the park there was a $10 admission for seven days but I didn’t want to stay seven days and I saw everything there was to see just driving there. I turned around and instead spent the $10 to help pay for a dinner at Chipotles. This was my first time there and I was so hungry I ate it all! Life was good. I moved on.

 

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Windsor Ruins – Mississippi

In Mississippi I went to the Windsor Ruins. Apparently this absolutely enormous building was built as the largest Greek Revival mansion in the state. It only stood for a few years before it burned from the top down leaving nothing but 24 eerie columns. I tried to go after dark (against park rules) but didn’t make it. Still it was oddly impressive, nestled in some rugged and wild country. It was quiet and so peaceful out there. The columns reached towards the sky with a little plant growing on one. Some of them were crumbled and I guess the metal stairway that was left after the flames was taken by a local church. It was a bit weird in the sense it felt like I was looking at a Greek ruin in the middle of frickin’ Mississippi.

As I left I noticed a dirt road, apparently going to nowhere. Seeing as the road I was supposed to take was closed due to flooding the decision was made to try this one. I travelled farther and farther down this road as it got increasingly worse. It got narrower, the path got more bumpy. It looked like the last travelers through here might have been in a Conestoga wagon. Then, as if I was on some sort of crazy safari I saw something dash across the road at such an alarming speed that I couldn’t even come close to identifying the wee beast. I turned around and took the path more travelled.

As it turns out I think I figured out what the strange blur I saw was. Apparently armadillos are a small, probably mythological, southern creatures with the armor of centipede and the speed of light. I had been wanting to see a live one and in all the photos they look so placid and even slow.. HA! Wrong! I also got to see two deer cross the road and it was broad daylight.

I took lots of photos of the scenery because it was just gorgeous down that way with gorges filled with greenery and vines wrapping around trees. It was a strange landscape. On my way out I came across yet another roadblock, this time on a main highway. I stopped and a very young officer asked, “So where y’all trying to go?” Apparently, “I don’t know.” isn’t a great answer to give someone. He picked up his little list of places to go and ventured a guess, “Arkansas? And you’re taking which highway?” “Uhhh…. Let me see…” This time the GPS was consulted and the cop just started laughing. “Oh you got a Garmin. I had one of those. She told me to drive straight into a lake once.” Comforting thought! Thanks! Apparently the Big Black River had overflowed and I had to go literally an hour out of our way to get back on track.

When I got back into town, and after passing this particular gas station three or four times trying to find an addressless ghost town, I stopped in to fill up. The locals were ever so helpful… “You trying to get to Vicksburg? We saw you pass by a few times…” Great, now I’m being watched! SIGH. Can’t do anything conspicuously these days.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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New Orleans

Good old New Orleans, how could I forget America’s home to Voodoo, ghost tours, beloved vampire writers, and Mardi Gras? I decided to start my little journey by heading towards the famous French Quarters, a magical place where diaper-wearing horses pull carts around the streets. No no, I ended up parking comfortably near the French Quarter for $14 and I walked around. I was in search of a skirt… you know one of those airy ankle-length ones that they apparently don’t sell in the South… and to be quite frank they don’t sell skirts period down here. Whhhy?! It’s so frickin’ hot you’d think everyone would be wearing them! I would settle for an ankle length sundress of course but all the ones here went to your knees and were made of hot materials. It made no sense. I weaved in out of Voodoo shops as a reward for sticking it out and trying to find a skirt, a abysmal activity if there ever were one. Skulls abounded.

I stopped wherever it looked interesting, or just air conditioned in the case of the Magaritaville, apparently a whole parrothead-inspired margarita-flinging bar. I only stayed in its stoop for a few minutes so I could go on. In the meantime mules and horses clacked by with their tourist carriages telling of pirates and voodoo priestesses. I passed by the Voodoo priestesses’ bar and her little voodoo shop. I may have gone in there if a bunch of locals weren’t in the stoop debating something.

After I walked around the main part of the French Quarters I meandered up to Bourbon Street for shits and giggles, figured it’d be interesting people watching if nothing else. That was interesting to say the least! The first thing I stumbled upon was a seedy cabaret with a barker out front. I looked him dead in the eye to see if he’d still make his pitch and laughed when at first hesitated but then actually did! I walked by, obviously. I had no idea the States even had cabarets. Seems such an odd thing to me, bet you they probably named it such to make it sound more interesting than it actually was. In any event I walked past a lot of little strip joints and whatnot, a great deal of them with cutesy little names like The Cat’s Meow. I passed by pubs, bars, and other liquor friendly little nooks, some reading, “two drink minimum,” which seemed more than a tad bit odd. Apparently there was no room for responsible drivers here.

It was a scalding hot day and I had to take time out to lather myself up with sun screen in a public courtyard. I was melting. I ended up back in the French Market scouring the area for a cold non-alcoholic drink when in the spirit of trying new things I also bought a praline. Good thing I only bought one… it was really rather sweet, to a fault. Will not be trying that again.

I had a lot of fun just wandering around. The streets weren’t that busy, the people were friendly, and there was a lemon piper playing classic jazz on sax down at the piers. Every time a dollar was donated this hilarious musician would holler, “Thanks big guy! Have a great day!” before going right back to the same note he left off on. I didn’t come by anyone with a thick New Orleans accent either, which was fortunate as that’s probably the only US accent even I can’t translate.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!


 

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World’s Most Elusive Roadside Catfish – Alabama

I drove to Troy Alabama to see the world’s largest catfish, apparently some sort of stature or clunk of folk art, not really sure. Either way when I got into Troy I realized I did not have an address for the elusive big fish and Google was not being of any help, just teasing me with photos and leaving me to guess. Eventually I came across a forum post which told me which main road it was off of and that this same road had a giant metal cow and some other crazy things so off I went, finding the giant metal bull first. Damn thing was outside of a rodeo place and as anatomically correct as the artist could have done with his personal talent. Poor thing had a sweet doleful cow face and a set of giant tin balls to boot. Strange, I continued onward and somewhere down the road in front of a closed art gallery I found a giant metal rooster. Again it was constructed out of spare parts in a rather artful manner. Its face was cute and I stopped to take a photo. I continued on to find the catfish but had to leave that day without finding it, though I am sure I could make up another big fish story about it…

I drove on that night into Mobile where we decided to stop at a Cracker Barrel, as was suggested by someone I’d talked to before the trip. We just don’t have these places in the North and a name like Cracker Barrel, not to mention the appearance of the place is sure to make a great many of us Northerners a bit skittish. Still I walked in. A kid came up to me asking for money to buy baseball team uniforms. He was a black kid, acting very skittish himself, I am not entirely sure why. I gave him $4. I figured if he was skittish from social anxiety then I helped an awkward kid with his fundraiser, and if he was skittish because he was being put up to his first con (I was in a rather ghetto-ey area), I didn’t care either. It was only $4.

Mobile… what can I say about it… other than I learned of it so many times not in a positive light. I had only known anything about it because of all the atrocities committed in and around it in the turbulent 50’s and 60’s during the Civil Rights Movement. I expected the people here to be a little off because I know scars like that do not heal in an area overnight. Though the people here who could still remember these ungodly events are now getting old and dying off they still had children and grandchildren whom I am sure they told. Like I said, it takes time to heal. All this going through my head didn’t make me any more comfortable going into a place called Cracker Barrel. Oh well, so the black attendant was giving me the evil eye for a good five minutes as I waited, that was to be expected, right? Then again the clerk who I paid my restaurant bill to acted totally normal, maybe she just had personal issues. This place confused me and set me a bit on edge. It’s so much easier when you can just treat everyone as if they’re people and leave it at that. SIGH.

I went in and was served by a waiter with a sweet farm boy accent. He asked if I’d been to the local music festival. I told him I just got into town, pondering if this fraternizing with customers was a normal thing down here. In any event I ordered the catfish, I just had to… and I ate until I was stuffed to the gills. It was good! It was fried and another new southern food. I was happy when I left.

 

 

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