D.C. Trip - The Beginning

Youngest-daughter has been studying government and history in school for a while now and the Mamma-woman and I believe learning is best when you can see and touch as well as read and hear so this year we decided to take a little road trip to Washington, D.C. over the Christmas holidays. We were going to fly, but Mamma-woman wanted to visit a few other sites that we needed a car to get to, plus, flying these days is such a hassle and I love road trips so after a new set of tires, an oil change, and a dealer check of all systems, we packed our ever-dependable Honda Odyssey, dropped off Riley the Wonder Dog at the kennel, pointed the GPS to Washington D.C. 1,049 miles away, and on Friday morning, the 21st of December, away we did go.

Of course, I had wanted to get an early start, but somehow, no matter how excited everyone is to be going and no matter how early I begin gently and lovingly screaming for everyone to get out of bed or I swear I’ll leave without them, we just cannot get away before 9:30. I don’t know how my girls manage to do this (I’m just a man and can’t be expected to figure it out), but I’ve learned to accept this. Get up at 6:00, leave at 9:30; get up at 8:30, leave at 9:30. It’s called a conundrum.

We made our first potty-break stop at 10:15. Mamma-woman needed to get rid of her morning coffee. Youngest-daughter doesn’t have to go and can’t make herself. At 10:35 when we made the 2^nd potty-break for Youngest-daughter, we were just east of Little Rock and after consulting the GPS to see how many more miles were ahead of us, I came to the conclusion that at this rate, we would arrive sometime around the middle of January. Things calmed down a little after that and we were able to make good progress – until 11:10 when youngest-daughter asked when we were going to stop for lunch and Mamma-woman said we might as well start looking for a McDonald’s ‘cause she needed another potty-break anyway. We were 75 miles from home and only had another 975 miles to go. I was filled with joy.

Back on the road after McDonald’s, with full bellies and empty bladders, it was nap time. Not for me of course, but I contented myself with the thought that my girls trust me enough for them to fall asleep in the car I’m driving – for several hours. I kept myself company softly singing along with my iPod tunes and making very elaborate plans for what to do after I hit the lottery for $50 million.

Over the Mississippi River into Memphis

I woke up the girls just before crossing the Mississippi River and entering Tennessee so they could see it. They were less than impressed since they’ve seen this before. The first “How much longer?” comes from the back seat almost at the same time as, “I could use a potty-break” comes from the co-pilot seat.

I’ll skip forward to the evening of the first night as there isn’t much to tell. Since we were on a time schedule with hotel reservations in D.C., we stayed on I-40 the whole day. Trust me, there’s not much to get excited about while traveling I-40. It wasn’t long until I started thinking, “How much longer?” myself as the miles slowly passed under our wheels.

We decided to stop for the night in Knoxville, Tennessee. We didn't have a reservation so the Mamma-woman used a handy-dandy little iPhone app to find a nice, but affordable place just off the freeway – Fairfield Inn & Suites, Knoxville/East at 1551 Cracker Barrel Lane. By the time we arrived, it was dark and the entrance is a bit confusing to get to as it is down a 1-way street on the other side of the freeway from the side we were on. We flat out missed it the first time with the GPS saying, “Turn left here,” “Recalculating,” “Drive 1/2 mile…” ”Recalculating.” But we figured it out the 2^nd time around and were rewarded with a quick check-in and a nice, clean room. We got in our workouts by hauling most of our stuff from the car. I determined we had brought with us about 98% of everything we own.

There wasn't much in the way of food establishments around the hotel and we were pretty tired (how do you get so tired just driving/riding in a car?) so we settled for a quick trip a couple of blocks away to a Wendy’s for salads. I applauded them for hiring the elderly when I saw the lady getting us our food had silver-blue hair and was obviously no spring chicken. I’m not going to be a cad and say anything negative about the sweet dear totally messing up our order several times. She was trying and I can only hope I last that long so good for her!

Not long after returning to the hotel we all crashed and fell asleep. The room was quiet and the beds were very comfortable. We had knocked off 558 miles and the girls had pee'd they're way across 2 states when the day was done.

Postcard From Dalby Springs, Texas Ghost Town



Dalby Springs church and bell

Dalby Springs. At one time a vibrant town, people thought it was a place of healing. Now it is a virtual ghost town, just a shadow of what it once was. For the folks who still call it home, that may not be such a bad thing.

Interior of the church gathering dust
and spiders

Located in Bowie County in far northeast Texas, Anglo settlement of the area began in 1839 when Warren Dalby and his family settled on land beside four natural fresh-water springs. The land was fertile and proved ideal for farming and soon a handful of other settlers arrived. Unknown by them, archaeological evidence later proved the springs had been used for thousands of years by prehistoric people and then by Caddo and other bands of Indians who roamed the area before the Dalby family arrived. By the 1850′s, the Anglos learned what the Indians had known for hundreds of years; the springs which gushed reddish colored water due to their high mineral content, contained healing medicinal properties. Through word-of-mouth, visitors who came to “take the water” at Dalby Springs soon made the sleepy little farming settlement into a boom town.

Dalby Springs Cemetery

Buildings were erected to accommodate the visitors and a post office was opened in 1860. The town made it through the Civil War relatively unscathed and by the late 1860’s it had churches, a school, five mills, five cotton gins, a newspaper, and a population estimated at 250. In 1871, it was reported that there were fifty to seventy-five people there every day to drink the spring water. The same observer claimed the water was “good for dyspepsia, diseases of the skin and kidneys and also for diseases of females. It is a sovereign remedy for barrenness. If Abraham and Sarah had visited this spring, Isaac would have figured fifty years earlier in Biblical history.” Unfortunately, crime also found the town with several murders and a number of theft incidents.

Gravestone with fungus eating away at it.

The popularity of bathing in mineral waters peaked in the early 1890’s with people spending a week to a full month in the towns containing the springs, but the fad was over by the mid to late 1890’s. In the 1900 census, the population of Dalby Springs was listed as 200 as farms consolidated and fewer people came to bath in and drink the spring water. The town’s population gradually reduced until the 1950 census showed only 50 residents remained with no business, no school, only 1 church and the graveyard beside it.

Today, the spring waters have declined to a trickle and several hand pumps are in use to bring the water above ground. There are still a few isolated farms and homes in the area, but even the church with it’s updated interior has been shuttered and is busy accumulating dust and cobwebs. The fenced graveyard has been mowed, but the old headstones are slowly being eaten away by fungus. The bell beside the graveyard which used to be rung to summon the residents for church services, burials, and community functions is rusting and hasn’t sounded in years.

Fungus rotting away a windowsill of the church.

As I started to leave, a kid of about 12 pulled up on a red Honda 4-wheeler next to where I had parked my truck on the side of the dirt road. I walked out and tried to start a conversation with him. “Nice truck” he said as I approached. “Thanks,” I replied, “Does anyone use the church anymore?” “No, sir. I don’t remember it ever being used. Nothing ever happens around here. I gotta go home ‘cause my dad called me” he said as he pointed to the iPhone hanging from his belt. He waved as he pulled away and I stood there watching as the cloud of dirt he had raised slowly settled. I left in my truck a few minutes later and my own cloud of dirt billowed up behind me until I made it to the 2-lane black top road. I continued on my way as the dirt settled back down in my rearview mirror.