One of the reasons I enjoyed the various marathon series offered by Mainly Marathons — other than the fact that I didn’t have to run them — was that they provided an opportunity to see parts of the country not normally experienced by casual tourists. I’ve done this twice now, first with the Dustbowl Series and now with the Riverboat Series. I chauffeured a runner from one obscure locale to another. Then, in return I could tweak the path. So I counted counted new counties, captured geo-oddities, and experienced undiluted Americana. I called that a fair bargain.
Graceland
Graceland, well Graceland, certainly wasn’t an obscure destination lacking for tourism. I would have gone out of my way to visit Graceland eventually anyway. So maybe it wasn’t the best example to use to begin this article. Nonetheless, it represented the complete embodiment of Americana and it had to rise to the top of my list. The Cult of Elvis always fascinated me and Graceland (map) required my careful, respectful devotion.
How could I possibly choose a single photograph to represent such an astonishing cultural touchstone? Every single item, from the house itself, to the outlandish furnishings of the Jungle Room, to the walls of platinum records, to the customized jet airplane with gold bathroom fixtures, simply everything shouted Elvis Presley.
I selected the jumpsuits. One exhibit included an entire series of jumpsuits from wall-to-wall. I found it fascinating that they actually appeared at first as very simple designs in the early 1970’s. Then they progressed over time with Elvis adding ever-increasing amounts of outrageous decorative elements. Eventually came the capes, rhinestones, embroidery and cowboy-sized belt buckles.
Travel Tip: arrive at Graceland just as it opens for the day and purchase Platinum tickets instead of VIP. Then board the shuttle for the mansion grounds as your very first activity. This costs about half the price of VIP and an early arrival practically guarantees “front of the line” access offered by the VIP tour.
Low Clearance
Of course I consulted 12MC’s Complete Index map before I left on my grand adventure. Doesn’t everyone? I wanted to see if I’d written about oddities along my expected path. Maybe I’d find one that deserved a personal visit.
I noticed a reference to Low Clearance, an article posted in February 2011. The story was all about extremely low overpasses, the kind that might rip the top off of a box truck like a can opener. One such example appeared in Henning, Tennessee and I would drive directly past it (map). Typically I wouldn’t go out of my way just to see an 8’0″ (2.44 m) railroad trestle underpass. But this one involved a measly 30-second detour so why not? I’d feel bad if I didn’t.
I tweeted the photograph later that day as a victory salute. This prompted an even more impressive return tweet from @mapman85 of a better example near Greenfield, Ohio: 7’5″!
Tire Man
I titled this photo, “Random creature made from tires outside of Dumas, Arkansas” (street view). That pretty much described it. This wasn’t the best of photos although not so bad considering that I captured it from a moving automobile with a mobile phone. Notice the side-view mirror in the lower left corner.
I never could understand what an oversized rubber humanoid had to do with a TV Repair business. I guess that it didn’t really matter either. That was the kind of wacky non sequitur I’d come to expect in these out-of-the-way places. Some guy wanted a giant tire sculpture in his front yard, and darn it, that’s what he was going to build right there.
And do people still get TV’s repaired anymore? Maybe he had a lot of time on his hands.
Devil’s Crossroads
Two legendary highways intersected in Clarksdale, Mississippi (map). US Highway 61 ran north-south. We drove along it from Vicksburg to Memphis through the heart of a flat, empty floodplain of the Mississippi Delta. This was the storied “Blues Highway (e.g., Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited). Maybe only Route 66 topped it as a revered roadway in American nostalgia and culture.
US Highway 49 — while not as well known culturally as US 61 — also ran through the Delta. It would have been familiar territory to classic Blues musicians such as Big Joe Williams and Howlin’ Wolf who sang about it.
The Clarksdale, Mississippi intersection of these two storied highways became the Crossroads. Some called it the Devil’s Crossroads. Legends pointed to this as the place where bluesman Robert Johnson sold his soul to the devil in return for his musical skills. Supposedly he referenced this in his recording of “Cross Roads Blues” in 1936. That assumed one believed in such things. Also realize that multiple locations throughout the Delta claim to be the “actual” Devil’s Crossroads. Tourism, you know.
Giant Mailbox
Like the Tire Man, this Giant Mailbox didn’t seem to serve any purpose other than standing by the roadside whimsically and entertaining passersby. One can appreciate the sense of scale by comparing it to the flagpole and the stop sign. We stumbled upon it unexpectedly as we drove up US Highway 65 in northeastern Louisiana. Well done Ben Burnside of Franklin Plantation, Newellton, Louisiana (street view).
Rest Stop Sundial
I suppose I became sensitized to sundials when I wrote Remarkable Sundials last year. We stopped at an otherwise unremarkable wayside along Interstate 40 in Tennessee as we returned home. I spotted a sculpture with a familiar shape from the corner of my eye, walked over to investigate it, and figured it to be a sundial of some sort (satellite view). I searched for it on the Intertubes when I returned home. It was a work called “Marking Time” by Preston Farabow installed in 2007.
A press release from the Tennessee Arts Commission provided all of the particulars [link no longer works]. It noted that it “incorporates markers representing all 95 counties of the state.” A county-counting sundial? That practically defines perfection in the Twelve Mile Circle universe.
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