I stayed at an Air BnB in Portsmouth, Ohio last night, just across the river from Kentucky. Nice place, comfortable and relaxing. At some point in the middle of the night a loud thunderstorm rolled in and I had a sneaking suspicion it would continue through this morning. And it did. I stayed indoors and rearranged gear and let the rain clear to what seemed the best it would. I hit the road at eleven under grey damp skies and trekked 8 miles north to Lucasville, Ohio and Houston Holler. My dad spent his teenage years growing up in Huber Heights, OH, just outside of Dayton. He used to tell me however about being a kid in Houston Holler, which he always seemed to think was in Kentucky, when it is actually across the state line in Ohio. It was the idea of finding Houston Holler that generated the idea for this trip. Stories of my Great grandfather as a constable in Ashland/Greenup and old paperwork I have trying to move with my dad as an infant from Newfoundland to Greenup started me looking in to the Potter name around that area and delving further in to the internet to find the history I have to this point.
Houston Hollow Rd. sign (bad screen grab)
Houston Holler is not so much of a place anymore as it is a road running through it. As I road it today I imagined it as either dirt or rough finished tar at best when my dad's family lived back there. The road running through there now is quiet nice and winds it's way through areas reminiscent of a state park. I knew I needed to try and beat the rain so rather than ride the entire length of Houston Hollow Rd. I turned around and put the setting sun to my right, southward bound and towards home. There will be no more stops on this trip tracing my family name. From this point, it is all about the ride.
And boy did that ride suck. I no further made it to Greenup and the rain began, and once it began it didn't stop. For the next two and a half hours I would ride in various precipitation, be it light drizzle to driving rain and wind. My destination was Appalachia, Virginia where I wanted to pick up route 160, known in the two wheel world as "the Dragon Slayer". I really don't mind riding in any form of rain, but I was getting dejected at the thought of riding the Dragon Slayer in the rain. As luck would have it, when I came over a ridge in to Wise, VA the rain cleared and the sun actually came out, with ten miles left to go to Appalachia.
I found the entrance to the Dragon Slayer just outside of down and started to make my run as the clouds began to roll in. The Dragon Slayer is a 20 mile run between Appalachia, Virginia and Lynch, Kentucky. In that span of 20 miles there are 226 curves and hairpins and a littoral pinnacle point where you cross over the top of Black Mountain, Kentucky's highest peak at 4,145 feet. aside from less than a half dozen oncoming vehicles, I would be the only person on the Dragon Slayer today. And did I mention? They put down a brand new asphalt top two weeks ago! When I pulled in to Lynch, I knew I had ridden the best motorcycle road ever.
So tonight, I'm in a cabin I rented just outside of Harlan, Kentucky, a town that in its coal mining heyday had a population over 5,000 and carries less than 1500 today.
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