Hazard Kentucky Trip

On Thursday, September 29, 1994, I left for what was to possibly be my last motorcycle trip with Bill Hawkins. Our plan was to travel through Southeast Kentucky, and to spend at least one day where he lived the first ten years of his life, near Hazard, Kentucky. Bill had to work on Thursday, but I took the day off so I could enjoy an early ride, and see more of Deem Lake, the park near New Albany where we were to meet. I left home about 10:30, and it was a beautiful, sunny day. I had an enjoyable, uneventful ride, arriving at Deem Lake early afternoon. When I arrived, it was a lot different that my visit several weeks ago- no attendants at either the gate or the camp area. There were only one or two other campers, and the primitive area where I stayed before wasn't even open. I quickly set up camp at a site near the entrance, so that Bill could find me easily. I spent some time reading in the hammock, then got a little restless. I rode around the park but there wasn't as much to see as I had thought- mainly a beach (closed for the season), and a boating dock. Later I left the park for the highway, and bought firewood (carried in the saddlebags), and some food to eat later. Loafed around the campsite until finally, about 6:45, I decided it was dark enough I should start a fire. Had good luck getting a good fire going, and ate my soup & cheese sandwich and 7-UP. It was pitch dark when Bill game rumbling through the entrance. It appeared he was having trouble seeing anything, so I stood up and waved my flashlight. He had had a busy day, but seemed to be glad to be on the road. We got his tent up by flashlight, sat around enjoying the fire awhile, and turned in early.

Friday we were up and away fairly quickly. We rode to I-65, then South to the first exit with food. We meant to eat at Bob Evans, but it was so crowded we went next door to Dennys and had the breakfast bar. As usual, I ate forbidden foods. Then we were back on the bikes, crossed over into Kentucky, and took I-64 to Lexington. This was a good smooth ride, with not a lot of traffic. At Lexington we got onto I-75, and the entire time on this road was very busy, hectic traffic. We stopped in Richmond for gas, and I thought that somewhere in town was Mark Ficks. We stayed on I-75 to London, then took the toll road to Hazard. The traffic was much lighter on the toll road. Because it was late afternoon when we arrived in Hazard, we decided to find a campsite, and wait until the next day to find Bill's old homeplace. After some missed directions, we found the campground at Carr Fork Lake. It wasn't crowded, and we took a nice spot, flat, and near the bathhouse. It was the only spot with any firewood, and although the wood looked awfully dry (like, rotten), it turned out to actually burn quite well. The weather had gotten quite warm, and we were both sweaty, so we both showered and felt a lot better. We rode back on the highway to the only restaurant we had seen nearby, but it was closed. However, next door was a convenience store-gas station. We thought we would just buy some canned goods or something, but they actually made pizzas, so we ordered one, and went out onto the curb to wait. While there, an old man came limping up, heading for Bill like a bee line, and says "Do you know me?" Even though Bill says "No", he proceeds to talk a blue streak, treating me as if I'm not even there. Bill tolerates him, and finally he leaves. When the pizza is done, it's really quite good. We get back and sit around the campsite after getting a good fire going. The sky is incredible, no moon, and we can see the Milky Way quite clearly before the sky is even completely black. We talk about this and that, and I point out a few of the constellations I can still remember.

I wake up Saturday morning to find the foot of my sleeping bag is wet- hasn't rained, but a very heavy dew. Both bike seats are soaking wet. We pack quickly, and ride back to the restaurant that wasn't open last night. This morning, we have better luck. We both have a big breakfast, and talk some to the waitress. Turns out, the cook is from Bill's small town, and as we're leaving he talks to her. She knows some people he knows, and, amazingly, her niece lives in Bill's old house. This seems like a good omen. We then ride out to the place where Bill was brought up. He seems reluctant to knock on the door, but we walk and look around. Before long, an elderly man comes out of one the nearby houses, undoubtedly wondering what we are up to. After Bill introduces himself, it turns out they know each other from the old days, and have a long conversation. I try to get a couple good pictures of them. The man has Bill confused with his father, but soon they get that straightened out. We ride on down the road through another small mining town, then back into Hazard. Bill wants to find a souvenir hat of Hazard, with no luck. We have coffee and plan our next move in a small restaurant. The owner(?) is a former biker (amazing how many there are), and helps us plan a curvy, hilly, scenic route to get back to the Lexington area. We take highway 15 North to Campton. Great ride. Along the way we stop to see a fantastic natural bridge formation. We walk along the top, then around the bottom back to the parking lot, marveling all the way. Then on more great roads until we finally make it (after several bad directions) to Cave Run Lake, in the Daniel Boone National Forest. Deer bow hunters are everywhere, part of the reason the campground is almost full. We think we have one site, then find someone else already paid, and have to go find another. We finally end up with a great site in an area they have just opened since it became so full. We put up tents, hammocks, and after a little relaxing, head back out of the park to buy firewood, as it's almost dark. Getting back to camp, we got the fire going, but it never did burn real well, as the wood was green. We ate the food we had bought at the last gas stop, cheese sandwich & slaw for me, fried chicken & slaw for Bill. We were both lying in our hammocks when I heard the leaves rustling. At first I thought it was Bill, but then I heard it again only about five feet away, near the picnic table. I figured we had a coon in camp. I slowly pulled the flashlight out of my pocket, and aimed it toward the prowler. A skunk! I tried to calmly tell Bill we had a skunk in the camp. He got up and chased the critter out of camp- something I was not convinced was the thing to do, but it worked. (No spray). He hung around a while, but finally left our area. After that excitement, and a failing fire, we turned in.

We liked our campsite so much we thought we might stay another day, but upon rising the next day to head for breakfast, the guard at the gate said we would have to move, as they were closing our area back up. We decided then to move on after breakfast, since we would have to pack up everything anyway. So we headed for the restaurant sign we had seen last night, across the road from the station where we bought the wood. This was a marina, and we had to park the bikes on an incline. I almost backed mine down into a ravine, as I forgot it was in neutral when I tried to move forward. We walked across the plank to the restaurant, and saw a hat floating in the water. Bill reached down and got it. It was a new, denim hat that said "Acorn Industries" Bill now had his souvenir hat. Breakfast was slow in coming, and it had started to get crowded by the time we were eating. We get back to camp, and decide to go to the Kentucky Horse Farm in Lexington, and try to camp somewhere nearby. I lead, and we have a good, relaxed ride. The parking attendant lets us in free because he likes Bill's paint job so much. We have a great time seeing the horses, the film, the art and so on, and make do with lunch of a pretzel & lemonade (me) and hot dog, french fries and tea (Bill). We look at the map, and decide to head for Kincaid Lake State Park, north of where we are. We stop for gas at Cynthiana, and I almost freak out when Bill points out a nail in my back tire- the point is actually protruding out the sidewall. After a little discussion, we realize there's nowhere to fix it, and probably if it were going to go flat, it already would have. We eat at the Ponderosa across the street, then, with little daylight left, go on. It's about 30 miles to the park, and we arrive just before darkness. An elderly lady is the gate attendant, and seems to be apprehensive of us until we remove helmets and offer some friendly talk. We get our choice of campsites down a hill by the lake. We take the one that looks the least hilly, but still our tents are on an incline. They're up just before darkness. We walk up to the bathhouse, looking for wood, but there's none to be found. We decide to forget the fire, and end up sitting on a picnic table beside the lake, talking. There a small pontoon boat out on the lake, fishing. We're both feeling mellow, talk is flowing easily, and I'm feeling a little sad that this could be our last trip together. Finally we go back to the campsite, eat some snacks we brought, and turn in.

Monday morning, I'm up about 6:30, but for the first time Bill is really sleeping in. I make coffee and eat my last granola bar, studying the map to find the best way home. When Bill finally gets up, we pack up, and head for Falmouth, about 8:30. We eat breakfast at a small crackerbox cafe, with only stools and a counter. The cook, a nice grandmother who had once lived in Indiana, made everything from scratch, and in plenty of grease. I have pancakes (again), Bill has eggs, toast and ham. We follow the backroads to Carrolton, and these are real backroads, small state highways just a step above county roads - but wonderful riding. At Carrolton we stop at a riverfront restaurant and have pie and coffee. I tell Bill that I'm going to miss these trips, and he says we'll do at least something in the Spring, and maybe do a major one someday, meeting somewhere in the Southwest. It does sound like an adventure. At the bikes we say our goodbyes, as we'll split a few miles up the road in Madison. At Madison, we wave as Bill turns and I go on. I ride on home, my only excitement being stopped for speeding just outside of Salem. I'm only going about 63, and the policeman is pretty nice, and only gives me a warning. I arrive home about 3:40. I thought I might get home before Carla was home from work, but I'm not. When I raise the garage door, she's standing there smiling at me.