Lexington, Kentucky- Horse Country

Horse Country- Lexington, Kentucky

Tues. May 22nd, 2012- Athens, Ga.

We were up by 4:30 A.M. It was 63 degrees and cloudy out. We packed up our gear, showered and prepped for the day. A 7:00 A.M. breakfast in the lobby got us on our way. We were headed northeast through the Smokey Mts. of North Georgia and east Tennessee enroute to the fabled horse country of Lexington, Kentucky.

We drove northeast to Asheville, NC before turning east towards Knoxville, Tenn. The Smokey Mountains of North Georgia are just developing as a tourist enclave. White-water rafting, hiking in the woods, zip lines among the trees, fishing and other woodsy attractions are drawing summer visitors to the area by the busloads.

Similar to driving through West Virginia, we sped up and down the slalom-like hills in an often-exhilarating rush, trusting to dry roadways and good tires to keep us anchored to the twists and turns of the mountain highway that is Rte. #40. We had vetoed a shorter run up into the mountains via the resort town of Gatlinburg. At the five thousand foot level, on two lane roads, the drive can often become interminable.

As we crested a rise in the road, we could see the “smoke” of misty clouds lying in the valley below. It swirled and drifted like a special effect in an eerie movie. The mists and damp don’t burn off till later in the mornings in these parts. A light rain fell. The area has an elemental appeal for naturalists. There is something about the deep woods that erases all of the clutter and noise of civilization and makes you live more in the moment.

We blew through Knoxville rapidly, Tenn. regretting that we hadn’t allowed time to see a much-loved niece and her family. Maybe we will plan better next time, Holly.

The elevations lessened as we passed into Kentucky. We began seeing a gentler visage of farms with green grass and rolling meadows. We were approaching the fabled “horse Country” around Lexington, Kentucky. It was early for the rush hour, so we followed rte. #75 around Lexington and located a Country Inn in Georgetown, to the north of the city. It was hot and sultry out. We were a little tired from the 500 mile dash through the mountains, so we settled into read( “Chieftains of South Boston”- Stephen Burke) and catch a short conversation with Ozzie Nelson. (nap)

It was still warm and sunny out at 5 P.M. so we set out to reconnoiter nearby Georgetown and stop someplace for dinner. The town had been founded in the 1790’s. The architecture along the main drag is eye-appealing and majestic, if genteelly worn. Old period piece homes with grand verandas spoke of a gentler time and place. Georgetown College, also founded in the 1790’s, has a comfortable small college feel to its Georgian style brick buildings. It must be fun to go to school in such beautiful surroundings. There is even an enormous Toyota plant nearby to provide employment for thousands of the locals and keep the economy purring. You could readily see that by the large number of Japanese imports driving the roads. They far out numbered domestic brands.

We walked up and down the main drag of Georgetown. It was eerily empty. The road was clogged with drive through traffic but few pedestrians were about. A small café and a bar/restaurant drew in a few patrons. A more upscale restaurant, “Rodney’s” was someplace nearby but we failed to find it. The Clark County courthouse and several churches are the main architectural attractions. We saddled up and drove back towards the Inn. A small Mexican restaurant “Camino Grande” caught our eye. We stopped in. The place doesn’t look like much but is clean and offered some wonderful Mexican food. We scarfed it down like starving dogs on a meat wagon.

It was still very warm and muggy at 7 P.M. We retired to our room, to enjoy a glass of cabernet, watch jeopardy and read until the sand man claimed us. It had been a long day since leaving this morning from Athens, Georgia.

Wednesday, May 23rd, 2012, Lexington, Kentucky.

We were up by 6 A.M. We had coffee in the room as we watched the morning news on TV. It was a cool 53 degrees out, with a light fog blanketing the area. We prepped for the day and had a late breakfast in the Inn lobby before setting out.

We again drove through Georgetown before connecting with the Old Frankfort Pike (Rte. #460) for a delightful drive through some of the finest horse country in the nation. Well ordered horse farms, with their many segmented grass and hay fields, dotted the gentle hills all along the winding and narrow Frankfort Pike. All manner of beautiful horses grazed lazily in the morning sun. The farms were mostly several hundred acres in size and sported impressive homes and even fancier barns for the valuable equine stock. Many of the farms had distinctive names that smacked of the gentility and grace of the Old South. The magnolias and cypresses shaded the narrow road as we slowly traversed this idyllic passage on towards the state’s capital at Frankfort.

We commented on the well-kept white fencing that separated the paddocks and hay fields. I wish I had the concession. We were to learn later that they are actually called “Lexington Fences.” They bedeck all of the farms in the area, giving them a well-ordered appearance. The famed Kentucky Derby had just run a few weeks before, so the visage of beautiful horse , with small riders in colorful silks was still in out minds.

At the end of the Pike, we came onto Rte. #60, which led into the state’s capital at Frankfort. It sits on the Kentucky River. You can almost imagine what a frontier town in the 1790’s looked like. A small Historic district of older homes was speckled with businesses and the various offices of state government in Kentucky. It looked genteelly shabby for a state capital.
Next, we set off for the short run back to the City of Lexington. We drove through the historic district and were impressed. We parked the car and walked through the many restored period piece homes in the district. There are well ordered and attractive. Transylvania College sits in the middle of the district. It is attractive of visage and adds well to the color and charm of the area.

We passed by a rather elegant looking eatery called “Shakespeare’s Place.” It sits across form a restored and older Opera House in what passes for Lexington’s Theater district. There were other tourists like us enjoying the historic surroundings of the attractive area. Just at the edge of the historic district, stand shabbier and once elegant homes that have yet to be restored.

Just on the outskirts of Lexington, sits the huge “ Thorough-bread Training Farm Complex.” It isn’t anything fancy, just a series of large barns with a racing oval and workaday paddocks. We had missed the daily 9 A.M. tour so we ambled where we could and watched the magnificent animals being ridden to the racing oval and walking in and out of the barns. They are impressive by anyone’s estimation.

We continued driving through the area enjoying the huge horse farms, with their white Lexington fences and even older limestone walls separating and giving ordered to their fields. The deep green of the grass, speckled with white fences and dotted with magnificent horses is soothing to the eyes.
We found and walked through the small town of Paris, stopping at Lilly’s emporium of antiques. Good coffee and great chocolate chip cookies were appreciated as we chatted with the woman minding the store. She was gracious and helpful with local information, recommending that we stop at the “Woodford Bourbon Distillery” near Frankfort. We took her advice and drove the thirty miles back towards Frankfort.

The Distillery, one of several and the oldest and smallest on the famed “Bourbon Trail,” is impressive. Dark limestone distillery buildings lay just down the hill from an airy visitor center that features a small restaurant and a sales room for expensive Bourbons. We paid our $7 tour price and boarded a small bus that was sro.

The guide was both helpful and informative. He walked us through the warehouse, stacked with aging bourbon barrels and then through the actual distillery where the prized product is brewed. We saw open vats of corn mash cooking and then watched the triple distillery cookers that produced the corn whiskey. Woodford uses a combination of 72% of selected corn, 18% of rye and 10% of barley in its mash. Other nearby distilleries, like Makers Mark, uses 18% wheat instead of rye. Each has its own distinct tastes and legions of admirers. The real secret to the elixir after its final brewing is that the corn whiskey is placed in oak barrels that have had their interior surface charred by flame. The product is then rolled to the warehouse where it sits for six to seven years before the internal process in the barrels transforms the corn whiskey into its final product, Bourbon. The whiskey had taken its name form a time in the 1700’s when all of eastern Kentucky had been located in Bourbon County Virginia. Most of the world's bourbon, though not all, is brewed in this area of Kentucky. As an interesting aside, the guide informed us that all such distilleries have moats surrounding them to protect from accidental fires. Bourbons fires cannot be extinguished and burn in rivers of fire until everything is consumed.
After the tour, we sat with a couple from Nashville, Tenn. They had already toured the Buffalo Trace distillery in Frankfort earlier in the morning. We nibbled on fine chocolate and sipped the smooth corn whiskey, while enjoying their company. The bourbon has a velvet quality to the tongue and tastes indeed of corn in a powerful concoction of fine spirits that can lighten the mood or dull the senses depending on the amount consumed. .

It was warm out and we were tiring with the day. We drove back through the delightful narrow roads again enjoying the well ordered and eye appealing horse farms on the narrow lanes. Few other cars traversed the roads so we took our time and memorized the look of them. We would not this way back again be for some time. Passing through Georgetown, we stopped and had some decent club sandwiches in “Galvin’s” a bar and restaurant on Georgetown’s main drag. They were of good quality.

Back at the Inn, we settled in for a delightful one-hour nap. Yea Ozzie ! Then, I tired a glass of Woodford Bourbon over ice It was tasty with the lip smacking after taste of corn mash. We settled in to read, watch jeopardy and retire early. Tomorrow would bring another 500-mile dash across the flat expanse of Ohio to our home in Amherst. It had been a good visit to a wonderful piece of Americana, Kentucky’s Horse Country.

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(1831 words)

Joseph Xavier Martin