Finding Inspiration on the Road Again by Martha Reed

At the end of August, I enjoyed a four-day road trip from St. Petersburg, FL to Pittsburgh, PA. The distance was just over 1,000 miles. I could’ve covered it in two long days, but I’m retired now. I’ve learned to slow down and enjoy the ride. That includes taking a little extra time for interesting stops and side trips.

I didn’t grow up traveling this way. My dad was one of those ‘blow and go’ drivers who mapped out the quickest route to get from Point A to Point B with no stopping in between. We’d get feverish and dehydrated lying in our sleeping bags in the back of our Country Squire station wagon, blowing past billboards advertising “Marvel Cave” or “Mysterious Gravity Hill” without giving a thought (or daring to make a suggestion) about pulling over to see the sights as the car slowly filled with the warming aroma of the tuna salad sandwiches Mom had packed for us in the leaky cooler.

As a child I thought this was the way road trips were done, but as an adult I’ve decided to unlearn this behavior. Before this road trip I realized that I had visited every state east of the Mississippi River except for Kentucky. That gave me a target destination and travel route, and a great excuse to noodle through Georgia and Tennessee back roads to get there.

It took me a couple of days to settle into the road experience, but Kentucky was when I finally relaxed and started to absorb the new landscape. In Louisville, I spent the night at The Seelbach Hotel. Rumor has it that F. Scott Fitzgerald started writing “The Great Gatsby” in their basement bar. Al Capone reportedly played poker in one of their private rooms. The Seelbach Hotel is riddled with hidden doors, secret passageways, and bootlegging tunnels. The criminal magic of it refilled my creative well with fresh story ideas.

The next day I visited Churchill Downs. Have you ever seen something so iconic that when you do finally see it in person it gives you chills? The racetrack at Churchill Downs did it for me. I imagined I heard the thunder of hoofbeats and the roar of the crowd. As I continued north/northeast GPS took me down a Lexington horse country back lane so exclusive the pastures looked like manicured lawns. I drove past a private farm gate that was so obviously meant to impress that I knew the security cameras were trained on me, so I waved.

Skipping the interstate, I took another back road through Maysville, KY, a cute little river town before crossing a bridge into Ohio. This was the strangest leg of my journey because I was travelling fifty-four years into my past.

In the fifth grade, when I was eleven, Mrs. Zingale was my social studies teacher. She recognized that I loved history, especially archaeology. She gave me an extra credit art project where I drew and colored the wall paintings from King Tut’s tomb. Then she hung my drawings over the chalkboard for everyone to admire during parent/teacher night. She was my 5^th grade best friend.

In my autograph book at year-end, Mrs. Zingale wrote, “You’ll be hearing from me.” I had no idea what she meant until one day that summer she called my mother and offered to take me with her daughter and her daughter’s friend on a weekend canoe ride down the Mohican River. I’d never been away from home by myself before. I felt like I was all grown up and I’d won the lottery all rolled into one.

Mrs. Zingale said we’d see some old Indian mounds along the river. Being the little nerd that I was (and honestly still am) I pulled out a musty Encyclopedia and researched “Mound Builder Culture.” The reference article talked about the many ancient mounds dotting the Ohio River Valley, but the star of the show was the Great Serpent Mound near Peebles, Ohio.

The four of us never made it to The Great Serpent Mound in 1969. But in 2023, on my four-day road trip north, I did.

When you were a child, was there something you wanted to see or somewhere you wanted to visit, but you never did? Grab a friend and fix that dropped stitch. Seeing The Great Serpent Mound reminded me of my eleven-year-old self who held such unbelievable dreams of lifetime adventures and of becoming a writer. It’s never too late check that box. These adventures translate into experiences that can be shared with our readers via our words, like I just did with you.