Yet another Pacific Island!

The Island of Sumatra is immediately east of the Island of Java, about which we read in National Geographic Magazine (see this blog, Thursday, August 15, 2013, "Java!").  W. Robert Moore writes of the people there in "Among the Hill Tribes of Sumatra," National Geographic Magazine, February, 1930.

"Sumatra. . .is only slightly smaller than the aggregate areas of our nine New England and Middle Atlantic states. . .and is thirteen times larger than its Netherland guardian, but has a somewhat smaller population" (p. 188).  Mr. Moore traveled by steamship to Sumatra, then by bus and rail to reach the interior of the country.  He found beautiful scenery and contrasting cultures, some of which had been isolated in the mountain regions until the recent building of railroads by the European conquerors. The Equator crossed the Island of Sumatra.

As an inhabitant of America, a former colony of foreign powers, I can sympathize with the Sumatra natives but not the Dutch, who, although they appeared to treat the natives with justice, carried off their resources and exploited the land.  I also like to compare other cultures with my own as to the treatment of women, children, the elderly, and minorities.

"In the Padang Highlands the women are rulers of the household and control both the possessions and the children.  The husbands, free from such responsibility, help work the family rice fields, and they are skillful craftsmen in both wood and metal.  Many of the houses exhibit unique designs on the wooden walls." Possessions accumulated by men pass to their sisters rather than to their wives" (p. 197).

Many of the cultures Mr. Moore encountered appeared to be highly civilized.  "Each Batak village has its court and market square.  The structure in the foreground is used for native trials and public meetings, and on trading days barter goes on around it" (caption, Color Plate VI).

"Feminine merchants predominate at the Fort de Kock market. . .both girls are of the Menangkabaus, a tribe which accords it women positions of honor and responsibility" (caption, Color Plate VII).

"In the last fifty years the Bataks have undergone a great change  They are no longer hostile to the white man and they have long since ceased the practice of the ceremonial eating (a fine distinction from cannibalism) of their elderly relatives and their enemies.  They are now a peaceful agricultural and pastoral people" (p. 207).

The eating of the aged is thought to have been based on a vague conception of immortality.  The aged man's body would thus become part of the strong brown bodies around him, and the wisdom of the wise and experienced would also be passed onto their successors, while fallen warriors would give of their strength and bravery" (p. 210).

"Some of the Bataks have been converted to Christianity, others have become nominally Mohammedans, yet a majority of them still cling to their ancient religious beliefs and animistic practices" (p. 210).

The natives were very inventive and trained pet monkeys to climb tall coconut palm trees and pick only the ripe coconuts.  Strings were tied to the monkeys so they wouldn't escape into the jungle.

Other than the coast lands, the mountains, and the valleys, the Island of Sumatra contained flooded rice terraces wherever possible and steaming volcanoes (Sibajak and Krakatau - last erupted in 1928).

Dutch exports (and profits) from its Colony of Sumatra included tea, rubber, and tobacco.  There was minimal gold and spices' exports with the oil exploration underway in 1930.  In addition to the native workers, mostly women, huge tea plantations imported workers from both China and nearby Java.  One company "employs some 40,000 Javanese, Tamil, and Chinese men and women laborers, who are supervised by a large staff of foreign managers" (p. 226).

When his trip to the interior of Sumatra was concluded, Mr. Moore again traveled by train and bus to the coast and boarded a ship. "The steamer slipped out from the mangrove swamps into the Malacca Strait.  Not long after, as I looked back along the wash of the throbbing screw, a crimsoning, dusk-filled horizon closed over the Sumatran coast.  Thus ended our visit to the fascinating island astride the Equator, of which few travelers see anything beyond the distant smoky blue mountains, as their steamers leave the Malayan port India-bound" (p, 227).

Exciting Trips to San Francisco

Today I watched most of the America's Cup sailing contest in San Francisco Bay, California, U.S.A.  Although I certainly had heard of it, I never was the slightest bit interested until I sailed on the catamaran in Hawaii recently.  I loved every minute!  And these slick, sleek, fast sailboats in the America's Cup were catamarans!  The United States was racing New Zealand in a really exciting contest.  New Zealand won.

The Manu Kai catamaran with sails unfurled, Waikiki Bay, Honolulu, Hawaii, July 2013.

Catamaran from the Hilton Hotel, near the Manu Kai, out in the Pacific Ocean.

 

 

Catamarans are like two canoes or rowboats joined with braces, very stable.  It was wild fun!  The farther out we sailed, the rougher the seas were!

Seeing the America's Cup race in San Francisco Bay brought to mind two family trips there.  I'll tell you about the unhappy trip first.  In September, 1989, my mother, Adeline, was in the Presidio military hospital, scheduled for shoulder replacement surgery the next morning; it's almost directly beneath the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.  She and dad were having supper in the basement cafeteria.  Around 5 p.m., the building started terrible shaking.  Mom related, "We knew it was an earthquake and thought we were going to die."  At that very time, I was in Kentucky, viewing the World Series baseball game on TV, in San Francisco.  The TV picture started shaking.  From the Goodyear Blimp, the city (then at night) went dark except for fires from the burning gas lines.

My heart was in my stomach, I was so afraid for my parents!  That was on a Sunday.  I did not hear from Mom and Dad until Thursday.  I was so sick with worry!  Mom said that after the quake and aftershocks had settled down, the hospital building was still standing, but with major cracks everywhere.  Mom was told, "Go back to your room.  Your surgery will go on as scheduled.  Here's a flashlight.  Take three showers tonight to prepare for the surgery."

Well, the hospital had no power but my parents did as they were told.  Dad held the flashlight over the shower at three different times during the night and mom took showers.  The morning came and mom was told, "You're not having surgery.  The surgeon was up all night with emergencies."  It took them three days to reach home in Sacramento, a trip which normally would take no more than two hours.

Six weeks later mom had the shoulder replacement surgery.  She had been suffering from pain since she had fallen off a horse at age 16, a period of 54 years!  The nurse in me tells you, please don't be afraid of such surgery: it is common now!  Knee replacements especially are common (please see this blog, June 11, 2013, "All the Way Up!")

My trip to San Francisco took place in July, 1982, when I was visiting mom and dad in Sacramento.  The three of us planned to spend the day in the San Francisco area.  As we were getting ready, I noticed Mom putting three winter coats in the back of their station wagon.  "What on earth are you doing, Mom?  It's going to be 95 degrees today!"  She told me, "You'll see.  San Francisco is colder."  She was right!  We actually toured the old fort at the Presidio, on San Francisco Bay.  I saw the same hospital as we drove around the military base (Dad was retired Army).  I was very grateful for the warm coat!  It was extremely windy, about 55 degrees on the bay.

Dad drove us all around the city.  We went to the famous Ghiradelli chocolate factory, the waterfront, through the narrow streets so steep we had to hold on to keep from bending forward.  I was enchanted by the beautiful Victorian houses of many colors.  I had a very strong feeling: this is the most beautiful, most interesting, and most exciting place I've ever known.  I'd really like to just open the car door and disappear with all the other people.  I had to fight the feeling.  Love for my family in Kentucky and elsewhere kept me in the car!  We also enjoyed a Gold Mine, the Muir Woods of giant sequoia trees, the fabulous Hearst Castle, and one of the Spanish missions.

I want to go back!!

Climbing Mountains!

The next National Geographic Magazine issue is February, 1930.  The first article is authored by Mr. Joseph F. Rock, "Seeking the Mountains of Mystery: An Expedition on the China-Tibet Frontier to the Unexplored Amnyi Machen Range, one of Whose Peaks Rival Everest."

This is a new adventure in a new place for me!  The mountain named "Amnyi Machen is 28,000 feet tall, and had never been explored.  There, Mr. Rock "found countless wild animals still unafraid of man, peaceful as in Eden.  Then deep, tree lined chasms roared the upper reaches of the mighty Yellow River, flowing here at an elevation of 10,000 feet above the sea!". . ."And time turns back a thousand years when one talks to the superstitious and vexatiously inquisitive, suspicious folk who inhabit this lonely nook of the world" (p. 131). 

Amnyi Machen mountain, the highest in the Anmyi Machen mountain range, is sacred to the monks and tribes of the region.  They believe it is the original home of the original Buddha, their leader.

To further pinpoint this location: In 1930, Tibet was north of India, bordered by China on the east, and Sinkiang (now the Peoples Republic of China) on the north and west.  Tibet is now a region in the Peoples Republic of China.

From Choni, in western China, Mr. Rock traveled west to Tibet.  He was on a botanical and ornithological expedition for Harvard University, U.S.A.  "As coined money is unknown in this part of the world, we carried much lump silver" (p. 144), and other things for use in barter.

In recent months, I have read about some of the native Pacific Islanders, cannibals, and East Africans, primitive and territorial, but have never read or heard of such warlike bands of thieves and, frankly, cutthroat murderers, such as existed in 1930 in Tibet!  This region also reached a new low in the level of filth, as far as I am concerned.  I salute Mr. Rock and his team for enduring this journey on both points.

How did they even manage to survive?  The religious Buddhist monks gave them letters of introduction, and sold them whatever supplies they needed for various parts of their trip.  "Dressed in gray felt raincoats, well armed, and escorted by a cavalry guard, we made an imposing party as we marched out of the gates of Choni.  We used yak carts to haul our supplies as far as the old town of Taochow.  From there to Labrang 34 mules carried our loads" (p. 145).  At Radja, "I called on the local Buddha, of course.  Without the aid of these holy men, no intruder from the outside world could last long among these fanatics" (p. 159).

FYI: In the East, a religious monk is called a lama.  Their leader is thought to be a reincarnation of Buddha.  The local Buddhas are very wealthy, by any standards.  Lamas live in monasteries called lamaseries.

There were more than 5,000 monks in the compound in Labrang.  "Five giant kettles, each six feet in diameter, equip a monster kitchen.  Here food sufficient to feed 4,000 lamas can be boiled at one time.  It usually consists of butter tea or rice gruel" (p. 145).  What a holy army!

Mr. Rock and his team hired native guides, an interpreter, and animal handlers.  Along all the routes, "robber tribes" were always watching.  Every night, sentries kept guard.  Also interested in the expedition were packs of wolves on the peaks of the mountains.  Even though the party started in June, snow and wind were additional dangers to their survival.

Mr. Rock, as leader, knew he would have to get on good terms with the Tibetan leaders of the lamas, and of the native tribes, all nomads.  This involved a Tibetan Tea Party.  "It was our policy always in this land, where travelers are regarded with suspicion, to make friends as we went . . .I shrank from either tea or food, but I could not offend" (p. 152).

To even get near the holy mountain, Amnyi Machen, they had to deal with the fierce and highly-feared Ngolok tribe.  When they were at a nearby lamasery, one day away from the mountain, Mr. Rock sent a letter to the Ngolok chief.  The expedition knew it would take several weeks to get an answer so they explored the closest mountains and valleys.  When they returned to the lamasery, "Neither the escorts nor the yaks we had bargained for were ready.  In fact, we were bluntly told nobody would go with us.  A warning had came from the wild Ngoloks that no one should aid us to get into their country, and the people were afraid" (p. 166).

To continue the saga, "In despair, I threatened the lamasery people.  Unless we were immediately provided with escort and animals, I would ask the aid of the Sining Moslems, whom they so much feared.  This brought the lama council quickly to time". . . "To be able to move quickly in case of attack, we decided to use horses and take an irreducible minimum of food, tents, and clothes" (p. 166-167).

"The lamas, of course, could not guarantee our safety". . .The chief (of the Ngoloks) had already sworn that if ever we should come anywhere near his encampment it would be the end of us". . ."He also said if we did not stay too long at the Amnyi Machen there would probably be no danger" (p. 170).

Mr. Rock and his group were rewarded beyond their expectations.  "The whole region between the Yellow River and Amnyi Machen is one great zoological garden.  Wherever I looked I saw wild animals grazing contentedly.  There were various deer, wapiti, and many other animals unknown to me" (p. 172).

"Before us lay, in all its whiteness and purity, the glory of Amnyi Machen.  Not a cloud was in the sky.  We could photograph to our heart's content. . .Below us, in the valley, camped the Ngoloks, apparently unaware of our presence" (p. 174).  "I shouted for joy as I beheld the majestic peaks of one of the grandest mountain ranges of all Asia.  We stood at an elevation of nearly 16,000 feet, yet in the distance rose still higher peaks - yet another 12,000 feet of snow and ice!" (p. 185).

Mr. Rock concludes his chronicle, "With difficulty I tore myself from that sublime view. . .which no other foreigners had ever had.   I remained for some time alone on that isolated summit, lost in reverie and easily comprehending why the Tibetans should worship these snowy peaks as emblems of purity" (p. 185).


Amnyi means "old man" and corresponds to our "saint."  Ma means "peacock" and chen means "great."

Personally, I appreciate the opportunity to learn more about lives so radically different from my own, and praise the Lord for my easy life!  I look forward to further developments in the China-Tibet region, as will be detailed in the pages of National Geographic Magazine.

An Appropriate Middle Eastern Trip

After an only-too-quick summer vacation, my church's Bible Study groups begin again today, Thursday, September 5.  This year, we will study the Book of Matthew.  How fitting it is that the next National Geographic Magazine article in the January, 1930, issue is "New Light on Ancient Ur: Excavations at the Site of the City of Abraham Reveal Geographic Evidence of Biblical Story of the Flood" by M.E.L. Mallowan.

My first task is to determine where this ancient city was located in our 2013 world.  Ur, was "an early forerunner of modern Baghdad (Iraq) and once the capital of the greatest empire in the middle East" (p. 95). The people who were responsible for forging Ur into a great city were the Sumerians.  They "had acquired the art of writing and of metal working, so they were the first to exploit the country intelligently" (p. 97).

The excavations on this site were sponsored jointly by the University of Pennsylvania and the British Museum.  This work continued for seven years. When we think of Iraq, we think 'desert' but there are rivers nourishing this land.  The Tigris and Euphrates Rivers still flow in Iraq, although the boundaries have changed somewhat from ancient times.  "From its earliest days Ur had to be maintained by an elaborate system of canals. . .when these collapsed, the city collapsed, too" (p. 106).  By the fourth century B.C., the city was virtually abandoned and experienced frequent sandstorms, effectively burying all remnants of civilization.

"The life of historic Ur can be accurately fixed between 3500 and 400 B.C.  Our main sources are two-told: the material remains and the literary remains" (p. 106).  The writing of the Sumerians was pictorial.  For example: a picture of a bee and that of a witch was combined to make the word, bewitch.  This writing was done on clay tablets with a metal stylus (p. 106).

"The earliest date at which we may arrive is 3100 B.C., the date of the accession of Mes-Anni-Padda, the first king of the first dynasty of Ur" (p. 109).  "By that time, the Sumerians. . .were goldsmiths who could produce objects of use and beauty - daggers, helmets and tools - unsurpassed at any period of history" (p. 109).

Several years ago there was a fine exhibition at Lexington's Kentucky Horse Park, "Gift from the Desert."  This opened my eyes to the high degree of civilization of these mostly nomadic desert peoples.  The works of art rivaled any I had seen from any culture in any museum both in terms of beauty and of worksmanship.  Especially beautiful were any art concerning Arabian horses.

Son #2, John, at the Kentucky Horse Park, 2010.

Where did Mr. Mallowan and his team find these artifacts and ruins buried in the desert sand?  They sought treasures in the ancient cemeteries and garbage piles and were rewarded with enormously rich finds.  The team of archeologists employed many local workers. "The workmen in the Near East cannot always be selected according to European standards of reliability.  No references are offered and none required. . .A neat hand with a dagger is often a neat hand with a pick" (photo caption, p. 110).  These workers were illiterate but strong.

There was a Great Flood, as mention in the Bible account of Noah and the Ark in the Book of Genesis.  There is an article in a subsequent issue of National Geographic Magazine detailing the extent of the flooding of the entire Mediterranean Sea.  Mr. Mallowan discovered "the Great Flood deposit in a cemetery at Ur" (p. 117).

All of these archeological finds give further credence that the people and places in the Christian Bible were real, my religion, and the person of Jesus Christ, the Lord and Son of God is real.  For me, this is not just a matter of quaint stories, not just real history of good people. It is the living Word of God, inspired as a revelation of God Himself first to the Jewish people, His Chosen People, then brought to fulfillment by Jesus.

And what do I need to do with this wonderful faith:  share it!  I challenge YOU: discover your personal faith.  LIVE your faith!  Learn the depth and beauty of your faith!  Learn from The Bible, or Scripture, as we call it, what it means.  Your eternal life depends on this! 

In Search of Everlasting Youth

Oh, did you know that Ponce de Leon's fabulous "fountain of youth" is to be found in St. Augustine, Florida, U.S.A.?  Peggy and I passed near  this bright and brassy tourist attraction this past June but didn't quite have the time to stop in.

Castillo de San Marcos, 17th Century Spanish Fort, St. Augustine, Florida

Old City Gates, St. Augustine

The historical Ponce de Leon actually asked the King of Spain to finance a trip to the New World to search for this spring which promised it would "wash away the earthly years of man and forthwith restore to him the freshness and strength of youth" ("Florida - The Fountain of Youth" by John Oliver La Gorce, National Geographic Magazine, January, 1930, p. 1).

Senor de Leon "finally made his landfall one beautiful morning soon after Easter Sunday, in the year 1512, as many historians hold, and, casting anchor, went ashore with sword, cross, and royal decree, somewhere near the mouth of the placid St. John's River, and gave his "island" the charming name of Florida" (p.1).  "Florida" means 'flowers.'

This was Mr. Gorce's fanciful introduction to an article describing the Florida of 1930.  In that year, "Florida is still in sense a pioneer state.  Her growth has been spotty, haphazard, marked by local spurts and lapses, seemingly a precocious child trying to run before she walks" (p.3).

At that time, the state imported much of its food, two-thirds of the needed milk and butter, most of the eggs and chicken, yet it discarded the surplus fruit and vegetables it grew.  The tourist trade was extremely important in 1930, as it is today.

"Sun makes climate, and climate with the aid of trade winds, makes Florida.  She tilts her sunburned nose so far down toward the Tropics that only here, in all the United States, can you pick coconuts from their lofty habitat - that is, if you climb well!" (p.3).  Now we also can enjoy that tropical climate and palm trees in our State of Hawaii.

Friend, Peggy, at the Florida Welcome Center, June, 2013, next to Palm Tree.

 "Through long, dull months she drowses and suns herself, yet from December to the Ides of March, gay, boisterous, and bizarre, she affords an astounding spectacle of massed humanity, idle, yet often athletically active, probably without parallel anywhere" (p.3).

"On Tampa's main street a giant scoreboard showing weekly figures of attendance at competing churches thus proving that sun-hunters are also God-fearing" (p.4).  On our trip to Florida, Peggy and I saw many beautiful and active churches from Jacksonville to Port St. Lucie.

Altar at St. Bernadette's Catholic Church, Port St. Lucie, Florida, June, 2013.

The Old Spanish Mission Building, "reputed to be the oldest European-made structure in the United States" is now a museum in St. Augustine (photo caption, p. 7).

Mr. La Gorce reported on 'alligator farms' in Florida.  We saw a tourist "Alligator Farm" this past June near the St. Augustine Lighthouse. There was a long alligator in the wild swamp on the Kennedy Space Center grounds when we toured by bus.  I was not quick enough to snap a photo.

My brother, Don, in Port St. Lucie, Florida, lives on a lake shore.  I asked him, "Are there any alligators in the lake?"  Don chuckled, "The lakes in Florida are all connected by underground tunnels for flood control.  They say that if there are no ducks on a lake, there are alligators.  Do you see any ducks?"

There were no ducks!

Private lake, Port St. Lucie, Florida, from my brother's back porch.

In 1930, there was a boast about Florida's large cities: "When I came to Miami after the Spanish-American War (1898), it had 300 people," said a leading banker.  He continued, "Today we have 157,000 residents" (p. 10).  Metro Miami in 2013 may truly boast of residents: 5.8 MILLION!

The Ponce de Leon Hotel, now Flagler College, St. Augustine, Florida

Henry Flagler, due to his fortune in railroads, built the ornate Ponce de Leon Hotel in 1888.  It was wired with electric lights installed by Thomas Edison.  The dining room Tiffany Glass windows are now worth $40 million.  Peggy and I enjoyed every room of our tour of Flagler College.

FYI: In 1930, "Cuba is our second best customer in all Latin America . . .from Key West now giant ferries carry 30 loaded (freight train) cars each, cars that float over to Havana, and then run all over the Cuban lines" (photo caption, p. 11).  The cars were loaded with manufactured goods and food.

Even in 1930, Golfers could play on good courses "when northern playing would require snowshoes" and "strings of big league baseball teams train hereabout every Spring" (p. 19).

FYI: "Snowbirds" referred not only to tourists but to workers in 1930.  "Thousands come each winter to work in hotels, stores, garages, and in the handling of the immense food crops" (p. 19).

St. Petersburg calls itself  "The Sunshine City . . . No other city gives more thought to the comfort of its visitors or lives more completely on what they spend" (p. 23).

A surprise for me from this 1930 article is the use of "Solar heaters installed on the roof of an apartment. . . water circulated in the pipes through the heating boxes, is stored in an insulated tank ready for use at a temperature just short of the boiling point" (photo caption, p. 46).

The famous inventor, Thomas A. Edison, was living in 1930 and worked in his laboratory at Ft. Myers.  "He seeks a native source of rubber.  Thousands of latex-yielding weeds, vines, and trees have been tested" (p. 47).  Florida, at that time, and still, perhaps today, was "an experimental plant laboratory" (p. 50).

FYI: Do you like the taste of avocado?  "Among exotic fruits that have found a foothold here is the avocado, often called "alligator pear."  In old days South Sea sailors called it "midshipmen's butter" (p. 50).

Do you enjoy the bright red poinsettias at Christmas?  In the 1930 Florida gardens, it "grows profusely" (photo caption, Color Plate XIII).

Even with the knowledge that over-exposure to sun causes cancer, today beaches everywhere are full of sunbathers.  Most, hopefully, use sun-blocking lotion.  At St. Petersburg in 1930,there was so much sunshine that one of the city's newspaper publishers gave away "the entire home edition . . . every day the sun fails to make an appearance before it goes to press" (photo caption, XIV).

Mr. La Gorce briefly writes of Florida's hurricanes "prior to 1926. . . no storms of such terrific magnitude had been recorded thereabout for a quarter of a century" (p. 93).  Yet, "Florida's people, who, though stricken, were unbowed by misfortune and rising up, marched on to rebuild and rebeautify. . . Yes, Floridians have won their place in the sun" (p. 93).

Reading this long article was like re-visiting the wonderful, sunny State of Florida!

South to Lake Cumberland Again!

Gail and I also delivered 'goody bags' to more clinics today.  From Lexington, we drove southeast to Danville and Somerset.  While I've previously blogged about the extreme south end of Lake Cumberland at Jamestown, Somerset is at the extreme north end.  We visited all these places one year ago; it was good to see friendly, familiar faces and places.

When finished, we headed west to I-75 again and ended up north of Lexington in Georgetown where our fellow association member, Sonia, works.  She was busy in a meeting but we 'connected' with the other nurses.

Lake Cumberland, at Somerset, Kentucky, U.S.A.

It was a delightful, sunny day today.  We were pleased to travel half as far to get our mission accomplished.  Somerset is a booming, lake town.  It seemed as if every other vehicle was pulling a boat!

South, Through My Kentucky Mountains

Today, my nurse-friend, Gail and I delivered bags of candy, popcorn, pens, membership applications, and notices of our organization's upcoming events to clinics in South Central Kentucky.  We've been members of the American Nephrology Nurses' Association for several years.  The scattered clinics are always quite pleased with our 'goody bags.'  We are promoting and celebrating national "Nephrology Nurses' Week" next week.

It is always good to head SOUTH on I-75 and watch the land gradually change from rolling hills to mountains.  Since the small towns and even the interchanges are few and far between, we get an unbridled view of the peaks and valleys.  The further we travel, the higher the mountains reach, and the more blue layers we see in the distance.

South Central Kentucky mountains.

From Lexington, we motor south to Richmond, London, Corbin, then head east to visit Pineville and Harlan.  Everyone we chat with is extremely friendly and grateful to get a bag of goodies.  We are gratified that many have already heard of our upcoming October events and are planning on attending.

There are surprises: the computer print-out of clinics is out-of-date with several addresses.  The GPS system has not been updated, either!  We wandered around Corbin, asked a local person for directions, finally called the clinic - twice!- for directions.  This is the third year our group has done this.  I am embarrassed that I have come different ways three times.

Side road bridging a deep gully in the Kentucky Mountains.

 

If you like mountain views, come to Southern and Eastern Kentucky.  The roads off the interstate (I-75) are two-lane divided from Corbin east to Pineville.  Then on to Harlan the roads are two-lane but good.  I would highly recommend Pine Mountain State Resort Park and Cumberland Falls State Resort Park in this area.

I lived in Hazard, Kentucky, from 1964 to 1966.  I'm not exaggerating to say that the Eastern Kentucky roads at that time were horrible, paved-over cow paths.  It would strike terror into one's heart to see a giant coal truck barreling fast in the opposite lane on roads with no guard rails!!  Now most of the mountain roads have been widened and straightened, with passing lanes on the curves.

It occurred to me earlier today, that in three days, I have traveled from Lexington, north on I-75 to Toledo and back, then south on I-75 to Corbin and beyond, and back.  Good thing I like road trips!

"Welcome to Harlan" banner.

This is the first time I've been all the way to Harlan.  I want to prove it!