Eastbound and down
On our way from Nashville to Savannah, we detoured through Knoxville, to visit Temple for a second time and looking for Magpie’s again. We found the place this time, in the Happy Holler section of town which is just beginning to grow, but unfortunately Magpie’s is closed on Sundays.
Lexie and I spent some time roaming around the city nevertheless. There was a Christmas craft fair just up the street from Magpie’s, and in the window, a planter made out of a used tire that we just had to have. The artist was on hand, and gleeful that we purchased some of her work. The planter wasn’t the only thing that we would have liked to take home, but we’re still limited on space and budget, after all. We also poked our heads into the Old Town section of Knoxville with its assortment of vintage clothing stores, and visiting the massive McKay’s Used Books, where we traded in some of the stuff we’re done with to replenish our reading lists. Knoxville is home to some of the friendliest people we’ve met in the South; most strangers are happy to strike up a conversation and get to know you a little.
We left downtown and pointed the Incorrigible temporarily north, following the signs to the Museum of Appalachia. Located about twenty miles north of Knoxville, this attraction is billed as a “living mountain village,” and celebrates the pioneer days of the region. It’s a 65-acre display featuring authentic log cabins including Mark Twain’s family cabin, and displays preserving the heritage of the region.
The Museum of Appalachia also ended up being a chance to give our Demco ExcaliBar tow bar a workout. The attraction’s dirt parking lot clearly wasn’t laid out with motorhomes in mind, and the Incorrigible quickly found itself turned cattywumpus trying to get out of the too-small dirt lane with no turnaround that the parking lot guide sent us down. Remember, with the Jeep in tow, we cannot back up more than two or three feet without risking major damage to both the towbar and all of the vehicles involved The system is designed for pulling, not pushing, so going backwards will quickly result in body damage and a wrecked tow bar. Fortunately, the ExcaliBar’s quick-release feature meant that getting the Liberty unhitched was an operation that took less than two minutes, and we didn’t block the Museum of Appalachia’s parking lot for very long. The ExcaliBar has a pressure release lever that makes it possible to remove the pins that attach it to the Jeep even when the bar is under tension, as when the towed vehicle is slightly turned. Once disconnected, the ExcaliBar folds up against the back of the motorhome. It went so easily that some of the crowds walking to and from the Museum of Appalachia probably didn’t even notice the unfolding drama.
Lexie and I made a brief tour of the museum, then returned to the parking lot, hooked up again and headed out. But we’d jumped the gun, it turned out. The split-rail fence that marked the exit to the Museum of Appalachia’s parking lot created another pinch point that the motorhome/Jeep combination couldn’t navigate, despite the efforts of helpful pedestrians. Even if we could have made the turn, the Incorrigible’s 102-inch wide body wasn’t going through a ninety-inch gate opening without some serious unpleasantness. So, we jumped out and practiced disconnecting the Demco bar a second time. Once again, the operation went smoothly and without drama or difficulty. When I consider the agony that would’ve been involved it we had a tow dolly or a flatbed trailer to haul the Jeep–unstrap the vehicle, back it off the trailer, remove the trailer, wheel it manually out of the way, back up the RV, get clear, reattach the trailer (moving it manually again, and anyone who’s ever had to manually drag a five hundred-pound trailer over uneven ground knows why we invented livestock), reposition the vehicle, strap it down–I’m thankful for the modern bit of engineering wizardry that is our tow bar.
