My new day also started slow, with some mechanical work on my car. The guidebooks had suggested Harrodsburg, Kentucky’s first town, so I headed over to the Shaker Valley of Pleasant Hill, which is contains the remains of a Shaker Village, first established in 1805, that lasted for most of the 19th century. The United Society of Believers in Christ’s Second Appearing, or Shakers, arrived in the American colonies in 1774, and founded 21 villages from Maine to Kentucky. At its peak, Pleasant Hill was its third largest . However, by 1910, only 12 members of this celibate community remained; when the last one died in 1923, their community passed to private hands and later became this historical site. (As of April 2020, only two remain worldwide, and they live in Maine. I find myself sorry that I missed the opportunity to learn more about that during my time in that state.) My visit began at the welcome pavilion and then, armed with a map and my dog, I wandered around the 34 historic buildings and the farm. Like wineries and bear sightings, my trip around the 50 states has provided a number of opportunities to visit preserved sites like this, where religious communities–often persecuted in another country–came to the US and created a sanctuary of shared worship, resources, and hard work. Tamu and I had a very pleasant morning on what seemed like familiar ground.
From there, I headed over to see Ft. Harrod, a full-scale replica of the fort where pioneers settled first in Kentucky. It is the site where President Abraham Lincoln’s parents married in 1806. Unfortunately, the park was closed on Monday, so my visit was cut short.
I pressed on toward Lexington next, but was arriving too late in the day to take in any sites. Even the winery I attempted to visit was closed on Mondays. Tamu and I headed to a nearby local attraction, the Windy Corner Market, where I ate a delightful dinner followed by chocolate and bourbon pecan pie–not quite Derby pie, but close. I discovered that, after a lifetime aversion, my taste for bourbon was becoming keen. It was also clear that I was in horse country, as the other guests at my hotel seemed to be affiliated with the business and my drive in the area was a panorama of Kentucky blue grass (which is green) and grazing horses. It had been a frustrating travel day in many ways, but it ended peacefully in these rolling hills. The day to come was going to be busy enough.
