Day 16 -- Nashville to Crossville, Tennessee -- 112 Miles

Just to show you how life can sometimes travel in familiar circles, Concetta and I, after taking most of the morning touring President Andrew Jackson's Heritage home in Tennessee, traveled just 112 miles before we sought out a KOA and stopped for the night. Part of the reason for the short hop was we still had part of our laundry to do and wanted to get an early start, and part of the reason was that I recognized the KOA's "Crossville" location as a name I had heard once before.

By the time we arrived in Crossville, I had finally remembered just where I'd heard the name before. Way back in the late 1990s we welcomed a new tenant to one of our houses in Carson City, and this person went on to be a member of our rental family for the next two decades before deciding to return to Ohio where he had previously spent a portion of his childhood. I often referred to this tenant as "Tennessee Don" because at one point he had told me that he spent his earliest years in the tiny town of Crossville, Tennessee, before his family moved to Ohio.

The above photo of the front of the Hermitage, in too much shadow today for a photo, I captured off a painting in the museum

Once we had set up camp for the night and had started the washing, I gave Tennessee Don a call and asked him if my memory was correct and that we had accidently landed in his hometown. He told me, yes, Crossville was his hometown, and he really did still own property there as he had related to me more than two decades ago.

Tomorrow Concetta and I will cruise into Crossville and see if we can locate Tenessee Don's property, which he tells me is actually a piece of wetland and not suitable for building upon. Still, since Don hasn't been down to Tenessee for many years, I'll at least try and shoot a few photos of the general area even if I can't find the property he calls "the swamp."

On the subject of our camp in Nashville last night and of the Andrew Jackson land and gardens tour for which we had purchased tickets several days ago, we didn't exactly have high hopes of actually being able to spend any time outside today. Not only has it been raining contiuously since we got to Tennessee and Concetta made the reservations, but last night it rained so hard that I decided to move the living area slider back into place as heavy rain sometimes manages to seep inside the coach if the room is extended during such a storm.

But wonder of wonders, this morning dawned bright and relatively clear, and by the time we had broken camp and traveled the 10 miles to Andrew Jackson's Hermitage Mansion, the weather promised to be perfect if a bit on the chilly side. We had our choice of two different tours, the Hermitage Mansion itself and the museum, grounds, and gardens. You could do both, of course, but we didn't really envision having sufficient time in the day to take advantage of both tours. Plus, we aren't so keen on house tours. You aren't permitted to take photos, touch anything, and you are crushed in with a big crowd of people who seem to always be in the way of what you're hoping to see.

Naturally, being gardeners, Concetta and I chose the "low-key" visit, that of the grounds and gardens. As a further encouragement, many of the trees on the grounds were resplendent in their display of fall colors, and missing them would have been unthinkable. We first watched the movie which served to remind us of many of the things we had learned on our Andrew Jackson CD that's been keeping us company as we travel. Second, we visited the museum which proved to be most excellent in its presentation, and I was able to take many photos, some of which might make it into the blog.

Finally, we left the building and made our way toward the Hermitage and its gardens. The day was, at that point, still quite cool, but the brillance of the fall colors and the magnificence of the grounds that seemed to roll away from Jackson's Greek Revival mansion and neat white fences left us in awe.

In just about any direction I pointed the camera, I found a scene more wonderful than the last. Ancient trees, whether bathed in sunlight or standing in shadow against a colorful receding background seemed to just shout our beloved American history. I had expected a bit more in the area of color in the formal kitchen garden, but both of us truly loved the way paths radiated out from the kitchen garden like spokes in a wheel.

One of the "spokes" took us to the tomb of both Andrew and his wife, Rachel, which we especially appreciated for its understated elegance and simplicty. A surprising number of Andrew and Rachel's grandchildren had been interred under simple marble headstones quite nearby the grandparents.

Several of the spokes around the kitchen garden were lined with trees with smooth, mottled bark of which we were unfamiliar. Fortunately, some of those trees came with small markers identifying the trees as crepe myrtle. Perhaps we were unfamiliar because the crepe myrtle trees don't do well in the cold climes of northern Nevada.

Yet another spoke took one to the privey, an unexpected but necessary spot in most early dooryards since houses were designed without any form of plumbing.

By the time that two o'clock rolled around, we knew that it was time to leave Andrew Jackson's wonderful and awesome Hermitage and find our way to the Interstate. After pausing a few moments to scout the gift shop for possible Christmas presents on our way out, we made our way to the rig. Fortunately, we had a surprisingly easy time finding our way thanks to Concetta's navigation. We had planned to try for Knoxville this afternoon but didn't quite make it. So tomorrow we'll be back at it. Hopefully, we'll turn up new adventures down the road.

So until next time, we wish you many exciting adventures of your own! Ciao!