Almost Heaven!

Driving through the mountainous beauty of West Virginia reminded me of John Denver. I loved his famous song “Take Me Home Country Roads.” In fact, Skip chimed in on the chorus as I belted it out: “take me home country roads to the place where I belong, West Virginia, mountain mama, take me home down country roads.”  Interestingly, John Denver, born Henry John Deutschendorf, spent his more formative years in Edina, Minnesota. He never actually lived in West Virginia.

While in WV, our highlight was visiting the New River Gorge National Park. It is our newest national treasure; it was officially declared a national park on December 27, 2020. This river is one of the oldest rivers on our continent, carving its way through the Appalachian Mountains. As we gazed at the river from an overlook, its depth was astonishing. AI stated a depth of 1,600 feet. Native Americans inhabited the region for centuries. In the late 1800’s, the rise of coal mining drew immigrants and settlors to the area. I can hardly imagine the beauty of these mountains painted in the orange, red and gold colors of autumn.

Skip and I hiked a trail in this national park surrounded by a cloud of witnesses gnats (hopefully some of you readers get this reference!) Sadly, we cut our hike short and retreated to the enclosure of our gnat-less truck.

On another day, we ventured to a state park which required a lengthy drive on winding, switchback roads. Dilapidated homes, junk piles, and trash heaps were common sights. I was struck by the stark contrast of what we were seeing compared to the community in which we live in Minnesota.

And then… Kentucky!  The horse country of Kentucky seemed endless. We traversed miles and miles and miles of horse farms, horses dotting the lush bluegrass pastures surrounded by black board-on-board fencing. Secretariat, Seattle Slew and Affirmed and many more famous derby winners grazed in pastures such as these.

A morning tour at the Kentucky Derby Museum included a tour of the track. I closed my eyes and imagined the rush of the horses on the track, while onlookers cheered for their favorite, women adorned with festive and sometimes extravagant bonnets and men in colorful suits. The “run for the roses” truly is an iconic part of American horse history and culture.

On our last day in Kentucky, I ventured out on my own for a half day thoroughbred horse farm tour. I was in heaven, seeing mares with their foals, learning about the storied stallions, and seeing the famed Keeneland racetrack. We visited two farms: one for breeding where stallions “stand” for a meager fee of $250,000, and one for the broodmares and their foals.

Best of all, we stayed for three nights on a Harvest Host horse farm. The farm also hosted two free ranging goats and one very hefty potbelly pig aptly named Wilbur. Tilly, the barn manager’s basset hound, took a shine to Skip. She waited longingly at our door for an ear scratch. I took a shine to Otter, a retired fox-hunting horse.

Our last adventures for the 2025 spring trip will include the Creation Museum and the Ark Encounter, which we will share with Erik and Haley. Hope you’ll come along for the ride!