Fall Escape
by Patti Muzny  

After a hectic spring and summer, I was in dire need of an escape to just enjoy the company of friends, family, and birds. A nephew at the seminary college in St. Meinrad , Indiana , gave me the perfect excuse to meander about territory east of the Mississippi . On September 10, Nancy Vicars and I left Oklahoma City for Fayetteville , Arkansas , where we spent the night at my sister's home.  On Sunday morning Nancy, Bobbi and I left Fayetteville and headed northeast via the scenic routes.  

We were not interested in how far we could get in a certain number of hours, although we were expected at St. Meinrad on Tuesday in time for dinner.  We meandered across northern Arkansas and southern Missouri , stopping at a few state parks and enjoying the drive.  Birding was not very productive at this time of the year.  And when we found birds, it was mostly by blind luck, because they don't sing in the fall.  And when we do find them, some are in what the bird books call, Aconfusing fall plumage.  

After spending the night in the nondescript town of Sikeston , MO, one of our stops included a state park where the Ohio River lost its individuality and became annexed by the Mississippi River .  It was a beautiful park and was fascinating to those of us who don't have the opportunity to watch river barges come and go.  

There were a few warblers flitting about in the trees and the weather was fantastic.  Barn and Rough-winged Swallows patrolled the airspace above the waters. We watched barges, visited with people, watched birds and ate our lunch before realizing that at the rate we were going, our dinner at St. Meinrad's would be atrophied if we didn't get moving.  We were only at the southern-most tip of Illinois and we were supposed to be about 60 miles west of Louisville , KY , by 5:30 !  OK...we will have to give up the small town, two-lane adventure and hit the interstates!  

We crossed the mighty Mississippi and drove through Paducah , KY , before heading north and east to St. Meinrad , IN.   We barely made it for  our dinner, pulling into the parking lot at exactly 5:30 P.M.   

The grounds of this Benedictine Monastery are beautiful, with mature trees, well-tended gardens, lakes, hiking trails, an ancient cemetery, and a peacefulness that surpasses definition.  Just what my frazzled spirit ordered!  We spent three days in this area. On one of the days we visited Lincoln S.P., where we birded and hiked and another day we drove to a natural area nearby and did more of the same hiking, eating, birding, enjoying the beginnings of fall and the peacefulness of remote places with no other tourists.  

On Wednesday we spent our day at the seminary campus or on seminary property nearby, and thoroughly absorbed the beauty and peacefulness of our surroundings.  At the cemetery we found a flock of Chipping Sparrows to add to our list.  A shrine upon a hill with a small cemetery was a great place for birding.  We saw our only Brown Creeper of the trip there. Black-capped Chickadees were plentiful at the college and we found a chimney at dusk and watched a flock of Chimney Swifts maneuver into the opening to roost.   

It was wonderful to be able to spend time with my nephew and we reluctantly left on Friday morning.  Left for...wherever the spirit moved us.  One of our stops was to be Mammoth Cave , in central Kentucky .  We ambled southward and crossed the Ohio River , whose banks had been breeched by flooding from the remains of Hurricane Ivan.  We took a 3/4 mile hike through a portion of Mammoth Cave and learned its history from our guide.  After spending the night nearby at Park City , KY , we decided we would just go down to the Smokies.  

Chestnut-sided Warblers became the trash birds of the trip.  Just kidding!  When we spotted movement high in those tall Indiana trees, it was most usually a Chestnut-sided.  We saw some with and without the beautiful chestnut streaking on their sides.  The ones without were more difficult to identify at first.  Our warbler list for our 12-day trip included: Tennessee , Orange-crowned, Nashville , Chestnut-sided, Yellow-throated, Wilson 's Black and White and American Redstart, with a possible Black-throated Green.   

Our journey took us across Kentucky and across all of Tennessee through rolling hills and mountains.  Barns filled with tobacco piqued out interest and we finally saw a field where some of the tobacco plants still had their leaves and we could see how the plants were grown.  We probably would have appropriated a leaf, but the narrow roads had no shoulder and we couldn't get to a place to pull off and investigate.  

When we drove around Knoxville and started town toward Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg, where  peace and quiet was definitely not an option!  Unbeknown to us, Dolly Parton was having a festival at Dollyworld, and we were nearing this popular entertainment area. Traffic jams of monumental proportions engulfed us and soon we headed for the nearest motel to hide.  We chose lodging where we could walk to dinner rather than drive.  (How far was it back to the seminary?!)  

Early on Sunday morning, we drove toward the park, bypassing Gatlinburg.  While traffic was already intense, it was possible to get through the park and pull off at some of the stops to check the scenery and the birds.  We found our first Juncos there, along with several Song Sparrows.  

Nancy and I hiked the 3/4 mile from the parking overlook to the observation tower at Clingman's Dome, the highest point in Tennessee .  The Smokies were indeed smokey and the view from our lofty and windy perch was beautiful.   

By late afternoon we were on a well paved two-lane highway in the heart of the mountains that divide North Carolina and Tennessee with steeply banked curves and hills that seemed to attracted a horde of crotch rocket lovers with death wishes. This road did not simply go up one side of the mountain and down the other, it lingered atop a ridge and curved sharply across the mountains for many miles.   

For persons who love fast motorcycles, love speed and living on the edge (literally, in this case), this road was tailor-made for them.  We were in a Tahoe, and I like my edges with a little more width!  

I love mountain driving and don't mind the sharp, 10 mph curves and beautiful scenery, but I prefer that those who take these curves coming at me at possibly 35 mph, be on the road without me.  Many times we rounded a sharp curve to meet a motorcyclist riding the yellow line with knees a few inches from the pavement and his head on MY side of the yellow line.  Fortunately for them, I kept my Tahoe on MY side and as far away from the center line as I could without scraping the side of the mountain on Nancy's side of the car! 

Speaking of Nancy...I  won't print her comments when the kid with his female friend perched behind him passed around me on a blind curve and came within inches of colliding with an oncoming Corvette!  While we would not have been in a life or death situation, we would have had to watch these daredevils become statistics on a remote and dangerous highway, far from any medical help.