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https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/dd0fc554-2403-4b1c-9bc5-e8a5de9d7845/Map+with+Chapters3.png Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/52c027e3-f577-48aa-bfbb-83c7dc865314/Screenshot+2022-06-10+at+10.22.28.jpg Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529934094-XC2QGFCFA84FDSDBBQYP/20160708_102317.jpg Deadhorse - The Southernmost Point of the USA Key West, Florida On the corner of Key West’s Whitehead and South streets sits a concrete obelisk, shaped and painted like a conical nautical marker buoy. It would be utterly unremarkable save for the inscription across it: The Southernmost Point of the Continental USA. In the fierce midsummer Florida sun, I’d arrived at the starting point of my 5,507-mile slow road to Deadhorse. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529937123-0IWK9BORQI4AT70WBJIX/20160707_202018.jpg Deadhorse - Sunset at Mallory Square Key West, Florida To my disappointment, the sun hid behind a thundercloud in the far distance as Twin and I strolled into Mallory Square. The prospect for sunset viewing wasn’t looking good. A sailing ketch pootled by, its twin sails slapping in the light evening breeze. Two pelicans slid past on the cooling air, silhouetted against the russet sky, unperturbed by the eclectic mass of humanity assembled on Mallory Square. Then, on cue, almost miraculously, the sun pinged below the distant cloud like a theatre light illuminating the audience, eliciting gasps of delight from us gaggling tourists. It was mid-summer, only 90 miles north of the Tropic of Cancer, so the sun dropped almost vertically, plummeting out of the sky, disappearing with a silent click as its burning surface dipped over the horizon. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529942853-PBFTXD1LTCG2RTLIHIWZ/20160708_132521.jpg Deadhorse - Old Bahia Honda Bridge Flagler’s Folly — the story of the derelict railway of the Florida Keys Curiously, off to the left sat another bridge, derelict, with sections missing, evidently slowly succumbing to the ocean. I’d seen other such structures, most notably the Old Bahia Honda Bridge, a heavily rusted steel-truss construction that looked like it hadn’t carried a load for 50 years. They were all marked with ‘Keep Out!’ signs. These rotting bygone bridges were eerie relics that looked like they had a story to tell. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529954439-E5OVCDQKQIKA90WHY4ZL/20160708_162101.jpg Deadhorse - The Florida Hurricane Memorial Islamorada, Florida Further up the Overseas Highway at the idyllic, mid-Keys town of Islamorada, I pulled over at an understated monument built with coral limestone. The Stars & Stripes flapped gently at half-mast; it wasn’t immediately obvious what it commemorated. I wandered the smooth steps to an engraving of windblown palm trees aside a violent sea. This was Florida’s Hurricane Memorial, and below my feet, some 300 people – many unidentified – lay buried. It commemorates those who lost their lives in the great Labor Day hurricane of 1935. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529966977-PBWQIFL1XU0F9NFABDPR/20160711_104153.jpg Deadhorse - Vizcaya Mansion, Miami James' Deering’s pastiche waterside property I drove in between narrow ornamental stone pillars, topped with carvings shaped like chess-piece pawns, and meandered slowly along a winding driveway shrouded by mature fig and oak. Grecian stone heads interspersed the shrubbery, peering at me as I inched passed. James Deering clearly had some cash. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529968248-XP96GLBN86BOZUY4IBYD/20160711_160110.jpg Deadhorse - Clewiston The delightfully titled Git-N-Go convenience store. Refuelling in America is a comparative delight. The pumps have catches, freeing you to check or empty your other fluids as your tank fills. Once done, you can pay at the pump. And, best of all, it’s almost comically cheap. The only frustration is, despite petrol being a liquid, Americans insist on calling it ‘gas’. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529970507-WNTUO0YTQCQ0T8GEHQXB/20160711_200826.jpg Deadhorse - Lakeland As the clouds thickened from a summer evening storm threatening to move inshore from Tampa Bay, I pulled into the city of Lakeland. Although small, it had one specific thing going for it that every fine English village has but very few American places do: a communal square. Local art dotted its open spaces; one tree had a life-sized giraffe painted up its broad trunk. Locals sat at tables, chewing the fat, evidently enjoying each other’s company to the sound of water trickling from the town square fountain. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529971838-P7B6GFKA9XD7V8C7C8YN/20160712_113457.jpg Deadhorse - The Suwanee River Kayaking the untouched river The banks stood pristine, thick overgrowth of sawgrass and black needle rush, untouched by man. Dogwood trees, fallen into the river, acted as sundecks for turtles, some as large as backpacks, basking in the summer sun. They’d spot me on approach, ploinking into the river in harmony. However quiet I was, I couldn’t get close before they all dived to avoid me. Large bass leapt out of the river, attempting to escape alligators, startling me with a sudden splash. But apart from that, idyllic stillness engulfed me as I paddled gently with the flow of the ancient Suwannee River. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654529972998-H29R859MITZGCLD7RDGY/20160712_131301.jpg Deadhorse - Manatee Springs State Park A post-paddle cool down My new friends from Kansas caught up, and we collectively cooled off by diving into the idyllic spring water, cold enough to tighten my chest as I plunged under it, like getting hit by a North Sea wave when I holidayed in North Yorkshire as a kid. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654677994377-N51UIKUE5P84LFH240E1/20160725_135905.jpg Deadhorse - Where the Ohio & Mississippi rivers meet Cairo, Illinois I sat on a rock and watched these great rivers meet. Like so much of America, the sheer scale is difficult to comprehend. Our largest river – the River Severn – has a drainage basin of 4,400 square miles. The Mississippi’s drainage basin is 1,245,000 square miles. It is geography on an intoxicatingly different scale. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678002642-U025QCQULEK2V5CFOO97/20160725_200549.jpg Deadhorse - St. Louis, Missouri Riding to the top of The Gateway Arch The Gateway Arch, opened in 1965, is almost as iconic as the Statue of Liberty. The structure, a shining stainless-steel arch 630 feet high, perched on the bank of the Mississippi, is enormous. A jumbo jet could easily fly through it. Americans don’t really build dedicated monuments on this scale. The Statue of Liberty was a gift from the French. The Golden Gate is just a bridge. The Empire State Building, offices. It makes the Gateway Arch all the more remarkable. But how did it come to be? https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654677997650-MCM7VAC050FA9ZRJ0CZW/20160725_195718.jpg Deadhorse - Dred Scott The Old Courthouse, St. Louis, Missouri Back on the safety of the pavement, I wandered to the entrance of the Old Courthouse I’d spotted from the top of the arch. At the bottom of the stone steps stood a life-size bronze statue of an elegant middle-aged couple, both black, dapper, arms wrapped around each other in gentle affection. They stared to the horizon with a pained stoicism. This was Dred Scott and his wife, Harriet. I hadn’t heard of them before, but I was to learn that the case they filed in the courthouse in front of me changed the course of American history. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678018004-CP6SIR5P154YKNU9SI94/20160725_212612.jpg Deadhorse - Beales on Broadway blues club Three lads sing the blues at St. Louis’s famed blues club Blues music is an infectious blend of genres, stemming from early black musicians in the Deep South who combined religious songs, work ditties and folk music to create a sound all of its own. I love live music, but I’d not listened to much blues in my life. I found it a toe-tapping, head-bobbing delight, the young lads dazzling with the intricacies of the melodies. There was something immensely satisfying to watch these three young white boys paying homage to the black legends of the blues, Howlin’ Wolf, Buddy Guy, Muddy Waters, T-bone Walker. As the mostly black locals started pouring in, I polished off my fourth pint and got up for a little dance. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678029334-1OID66KV7ON4AFCXDLM9/20160727_123505.jpg Deadhorse - Saverton lock Shelly and Bert – stood on the back of the right barge – guiding their cargo through the lock. The locks I knew from England are rather quaint, built for canal barges two-abreast, wooden sluice gates pushed by hand after draining the lock with a ratchet handle. But this lock? It was a different scale, 200 metres long, 30 metres across, huge metal gates hydraulically controlled. I cautiously peered over the edge. Nine vast barges, 10 metres below, roped together three-by-three, slipped out of the lock downstream on the current, barely moving. I stood on the lock wall, mesmerised as these enormous containers – sunk low in the water, fully loaded – crept passed, gently squeaking on the timber barge boards as they inched forward. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678043796-JS90E9PJRW5C7PSJ7JVH/20160727_141927.jpg Deadhorse - Mark Twain's boyhood home Hannibal, Missouri Disappointed, I walked along the High Street to Mark Twain’s Boyhood Home; my $11 museum admission included access to his house, and thus far hadn’t delivered value. Things didn’t improve inside the small, whitewashed wood-fronted home. Each room was tiny, shielded behind Perspex screens. The rooms were banal, just like rooms are in a family home. To spruce up the excitement, each room had a life-sized plaster cast Mark Twain model in various poses. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678049482-WXY58I20JPVPOGY2YJAN/20160727_193509.jpg Deadhorse - The American Queen Paddle steamer heading north up the Mississippi Shortly after passing the town of Muscatine, a gap appeared between trees shrouding the Mississippi. The river narrowed, and right there was an arresting sight, an enormous luxury passenger paddle ship, six decks high, the length of a football field, pushing upstream. Each cabin had pillars next to the entrance, wrought iron archways over the promenades along the edge of each deck, a few passengers strolling along them. Twin exhaust turrets, black and narrow, rose high above the upper deck, plumes pouring out of their elegantly crowned caps. The red paddles turned in anger, chopping up the water as it fought against the current. It was exquisite, a bygone from another era. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678064903-VC9W53HC5T551JHH0PIE/20160728_173817.jpg Deadhorse - J.K. Graves' funicular railway Dubuque, Iowa Now, Mr Graves was patently not a man keen on compromise. He had travelled throughout Europe as a Senator and had evidently seen the funicular railways running up and down the cliffs of many an English seaside town. And, thus, here was his solution. He hired a Mr John Bell, experienced in alpine cable cars, to build a private funicular from the town to his home. On July 25th, 1882, Mr J.K. Graves rode his funicular home for the first time and had both a hearty lunch and a salubrious snooze. Problem solved. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654678073255-FL132OCPSBMVXNLTVLEO/20160729_120752.jpg Deadhorse - Effigy Mounds National Monument Native Americans lived a subsistence life. They were deeply spiritual, giving praise for what they had. And in these lands, they did this by building mounds in the shape of the animals they depended on for their lives; birds, bear, lynx, bison. These effigies remain dotted across this part of the country but are best preserved right here. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/b9ea1a72-4c8d-407b-bf48-5c81e6be357f/Screenshot+2022-06-10+at+13.38.36.jpg Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/47e1c6ad-3dcd-4c03-a27c-94849c411c2f/Screenshot+2022-06-10+at+13.17.10.png Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692257771-GBCLPPUTDCMFYJ68D3UW/20160731_153336.jpg Deadhorse - The Dakota execution of 1862 Reconciliation Park, Mankato, Minnesota A plaque listing the names of those that died stands poignantly in Reconciliation Park. I read a few aloud: Ptan Du ta; Sna Mani; Wakan Tanka; Sun’ka ska. Alongside, a carved stone buffalo stood in isolation. But there was no sign explaining the history of the park or even what these unusual words meant. For the people of Mankato, the memory of this mass execution appeared to be too painful to face. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692259683-DZEP1U98554ZJI4CA6TG/20160731_154719.jpg Deadhorse - Julie Johnson-Fahrforth Mankato, Minnesota “This is the old concrete defence wall, built to keep out the Minnesota River behind when it floods.” She pointed to a gap in the wall, a substantial gate ready to swing shut when the water threatens. “Floods pretty bad around here sometimes, so we needed this wall. Problem was, it was real ugly. So, I decided to paint it. In respect of what happened here, it’s a representation of how the river looked in 1862.” https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692295482-VANR5QHHAV89VLKHWXZR/20160803_135820.jpg Deadhorse - Fargo I arrived at the Fargo visitor centre, its centrepiece being the famed yellow wood-chipper used in the movie to dispose of the dismembered body of Steve Buscemi’s character, Carl Showalter. It even had a white-socked leg sticking out the top of it. “You want to get a photo?” the cheerful lady working the booth asked. “Sure,” I said, “why not?” “Well, you’ll need to put this hat on,” offering me a checked ushanka hat with fur ear flaps, worn by the characters in the movie. I donned the hat, pushed on Carl Showalter’s leg, feigned anger and was rewarded with a somewhat unsettling photographic memento. It says something of a place that mulching a dismembered human body is a highlight of the trip. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692283056-9NWEHJBWVUOZU100IGAX/20160802_205559.jpg Deadhorse - The Fargo Theatre Fargo, North Dakota The Fargo Theatre is the most iconic building in downtown. Housed in a 1926 art deco building, today it shows art-house movies and hosts visiting performers. Its broad frontage looked inviting, an enormous illuminated ‘FARGO’ sign hanging from the roof, white backlit panelling with individual plastic letters spelling out the current crop of movies. I’d been travelling long distances for many days now, so fancied a bit of downtime. I headed into the theatre to buy a ticket. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654694090113-TTERX6NQW50OVGREQA5Z/20160804_132337.jpg Deadhorse - Al's barbershop If one is to classify the length of a car journey by essential bodily functions, then it’s probably fair to describe a journey as ‘moderately long’ when one has to stop for a pee along the way. I’d call it a ‘major excursion’ when one has to stop for a number 2. But it’s surely ‘the-mother-of-all-journeys’ when one needs to stop for a haircut. And, in Cooperstown, North Dakota, my journey achieved that lofty distinction. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692315288-YHQ2R6VIQN8S0X3C4AEJ/20160804_150246_001.jpg Deadhorse - Pressing the nuclear 'red button' Ronald Reagan Minuteman Missile State Historic Site, Cooperstown, North Dakota “Two ‘Missilers’ were in the control centre at any one time, awaiting instruction from the President to launch,” she explained. “It was a complex operation with duplicated authentication.” It needed to be. Each missile was 30 times more potent than the atomic bomb that killed 140,000 people in Hiroshima. And there were 1000 of them, each capable of travelling 15,000 miles per hour. The entire Soviet Union could be destroyed in under 30 minutes. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654694184481-TWBM37HEQ76RG5E1UV04/20160804_215136.jpg Deadhorse - Vern, the bare-knuckle boxer Velva, North Dakota A big man, mid-seventies, looked me up and down, then sauntered over, suspicious. He sat next to me. His hands were huge, fingers like hammer handles. “I’m Vern,” he said, checking me out. “I’m a bare-knuckle boxer.” https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692351878-X96AU7U17I0YIYVNVUGG/20160807_140345.jpg Deadhorse - The woolly mammoth of Kyle Kyle, Saskatchewan The morning of October 19th, 1964 started the same as any other for William McEvoy and his small team of road repair crew. They were resurfacing the Railway Avenue to the west of the small community of Kyle, under pressure to complete the work before the onset of winter and the freezing of the land. Digging the earth, they struck a hard object, long and impenetrable. They dug around it, concerned initially, seemingly revealing a bone. William McEvoy had the foresight to call the police, fearing it may be human. It was quickly dismissed as malpractice. An archaeologist from Regina confirmed it as a bone from an ancient megafauna. William McEvoy had discovered the fully-formed skeleton of a woolly mammoth. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654692353284-1BM8JV2Y35IQNVHHGVZX/20160808_073305.jpg Deadhorse - The White Bear Hotel White Bear, Saskatchewan Were it not for the sign, I’d have dismissed the weather-warped, white-painted clapboard walls of The White Bear Hotel as a dilapidated hay-barn. For reasons unclear, there were no windows at ground level, and those upstairs were either smashed or boarded over. I stood in the still air, contemplating my options, turning to peer down the four empty gravel roads radiating to the horizon. Realising I had no options, I picked up my bag and headed for the door. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/b6e84eb7-f185-4e71-a0af-4c3598ca2ee0/Screenshot+2022-06-10+at+13.07.51.jpg Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/f637df89-6d8d-42b2-9c11-038a651492c9/Screenshot+2022-06-10+at+13.33.31.jpg Deadhorse - Make it stand out Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654695807068-UGS8DOPHL7UJ2F1BC4UW/20160810_090604+1.jpg Deadhorse - The Kiskatinaw Bridge Alaska Highway, British Columbia The deserted, narrow road twisted through dense forest, finally arriving at the iconic Kiskatinaw River Bridge. It was an engineering marvel, a curved wooden trestle construction high above the roaring river below. I walked along the creaking wooden beams, peering over the flimsy guardrail, my intense fear of heights returning. But it was beautiful, the brown river flowing like strong coffee, cutting a ravine through the boreal forest, vast boulders deposited on its banks. The sun shone warm. After so many miles of farmland, I breathed the soft, almost alpine air and enjoyed the majesty of the view from this wooden engineering marvel of a bridge. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654696027647-XHHN3B1ZYWDCTXXVEPQ7/DSCN3101.JPG Deadhorse - Marsh Lake, Yukon On the banks of Marsh Lake, I spotted a Golden Eagle atop a nearby fir tree, silhouetted against the distant hills. Its soft white feathered head and hooked yellow beak contrasted its fierce piercing eyes. With a stretch of his vast wings and a flip of his pectorals, he beat a path through the air, scouring his land. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654696406962-S8ZM38TNWJKLW7KY0MTR/20160810_162228.jpg Deadhorse - Fort Nelson Fort Nelson Heritage Museum, Yukon I wandered into the Fort Nelson Heritage Museum, an adorably shambolic collection of local artefacts. Firemen’s helmets and wood saws lay displayed next to a stuffed arctic fox and a tracksuit from the 1988 Calgary Winter Olympics. A teacup featuring Pope John-Paul II sat beside a wooden abacus and a stuffed albino moose. It was a cornucopia so arrestingly disjointed it was enough to give me the giggles. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654695856038-UHNDOE1FLXXRM9FP94NZ/20160811_122555.jpg Deadhorse - Liard Hot Springs “Are they all black bears out here?” I asked. “Mostly, but we do get the occasional grizzly wandering through. Probably a hundred black bears to each grizzly. Always know when there’s a grizzly nearby as all the other wildlife disappears. They’ll smell it out and run. Black bears mainly just eat berries, but grizzlies,” he said, shaking his head, “they’re apex predators, and they’ll eat anything. Got to shut this place down when a grizzly’s about.” We wandered in silence for a moment. “But the black bears are safe?” I asked, seeking some reassurance. “Oh, no. Most people are over curious with them. But the only safe place to be is in your car.” I didn’t know it at the time, and Taylor didn’t mention it, but on August 14th, 1997, the real risk of bears became a terrifying reality, right here on this timber boardwalk. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654695993941-FNE0C44HVBFOQMQNTA2F/DSCN2798.JPG Deadhorse - Muncho Lake He was a beautiful, majestic creature, quite content to pose for my camera. I got the shot I was looking for. For a city dweller from London, this was an enchanting experience. He’d soon had enough, waddling out of sight into the dense forest. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654695872193-W7ICK9OL384PMYIDTO1M/20160811_153959.jpg Deadhorse - Yukon It was a beautiful late summer morning in the Yukon, the northern azure sky fading to the pastel horizon, contrasting the juniper-coloured trees making up the rest of the vista. I rolled on, hour-after-hour, crossing trestle bridges over fast-flowing glacial outwash, the cloud thickening as I went. The Yukon was glorious, massive in scale, endless spruce over the undulating land. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654695948358-8CKT78NX56EYTITUYEAG/20160821_111622.jpg Deadhorse - Atigun Pass, Dalton Highway The road plateaued for a mile or so before starting its descent. I heard a truck ahead, labouring as it climbed. I pulled over, waiting for it to appear through the cloud before moving again. It wasn’t much further until I broke through the cloud, and there, right below me, was the Sagavanirktok River Valley spreading into the distance, The Dalton snaking its way across the valley floor. The sun had broken through and lit the land with green, purple and orange hues of early autumn. The sight was glorious. I could almost have been in Wensleydale. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654696559409-MPK9UO04QIWSXGZAQWAW/DSCN3328.JPG Deadhorse - Muskox The muskox is surely the only creature that could walk out of its natural habitat straight onto the set of a Star Wars movie. I sat in wonder with it a while as he nibbled at the meagre shrubs that make up his summer diet. It drops to -60 degrees up here in winter; he was stocking up for the coming freeze. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654867529277-SLXYOZ4X81C17KGYDJCR/20160821_214747.jpg Deadhorse - Deadhorse! Low cloud sat just a few feet above the road, spitting rain, limiting visibility, forcing me to slow. And then, without fanfare, a gantry crane appeared through the mist. Then a row of pre-fab buildings and vast hangers housing drilling rigs. 5,507 miles after leaving Key West, I’d made it to Deadhorse. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617511128-FK5N4THD1MS8NZHFBO10/20160713_115647_001.jpg Deadhorse - Jack Hadley The Jack Hadley Black History Museum, Thomasville, Georgia As we paused, I asked Jack a question: “What part of black history are you most proud of?” I quickly thought it a banal question, for the cut-out of Obama was staring right at us. The answer was surely obvious. Jack pondered for a moment. “Well,” he said, turning to look straight at me with his piercing green eyes, “it’s the fact that you and I can stand here and look at each other eye-to-eye as equal men.” https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617532569-235JBMRBC64YATGLCDHV/20160713_142803.jpg Deadhorse - Pebble Hill Plantation Driving in gave an indication of the opulence of the place: a long winding driveway, shrouded in moss-covered oak trees, led the way past immaculate horse paddocks filled with trotting thoroughbreds. Grass fields and dense woodland undulated into the distance. It was Gone with the Wind. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617538477-213X18YO18R6IUMNJY0S/20160715_105747.jpg Deadhorse - Peanut farming Harold Israel’s peanut farm, Smithville, Georgia We rolled along the tarmac road for a mile, then, without even the slightest flinch, Mark simply drove off the road into a field, not slowing down or altering his driving pattern at all, rolling across the tilled soil. For a city dweller like me, this felt utterly odd. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617540449-PX2LXZAPEDF9MBS2QU7H/20160715_124245.jpg Deadhorse - Jimmy Carter's childhood home Archery, Georgia It’s difficult to comprehend just how humble a background Jimmy Carter had. His home – now managed by the National Parks Service – was a small wooden bungalow, painted white with shingle roof tiles, set amongst farm outbuildings that had housed the mules and ploughing equipment. The Carter’s pumped water via a tin-vaned windmill mounted in the yard. The farmhand rang a bell at 4:00 a.m., signalling the workers to assemble in advance of a day’s work tending the peanuts. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617548307-5CMOBFZSRMEZFLR2MKHG/20160720_103316.jpg Deadhorse - The Wellborn Muscle Car Museum Alexander City, Alabama Phillip wandered to a wall of massive switches, lifting them with two hands one by one, each light coming on with an industrial whompf. The cars lit up, their paintwork – red, black, orange, yellow, purple, pink – gleaming under the lights, each one immaculate. Dodge Charger R/T Hemis, Plymouth GTX 440s, Oldsmobile 442s, Dodge Challenger SS454s, side-by-side, waiting to be ogled at. And ogle I did. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617556045-O3EDJ9P6J9SC96D63EVA/20160720_144014.jpg Deadhorse - Easley Covered Bridge Oneonta, Alabama Covered bridges are a feature of much of rural America, all built for horse and carriages before the invention of the motor car. This one had two massive timbers either side of the entrance, intricately supporting lattice woodwork that gave the structure its strength. The roof was low-set and broad, overhanging both sides of the road. It had an elegant, almost romantic feel to it, possibly from the associations it naturally brings to the Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep movie, The Bridges of Madison County. I got out and walked across it, peering through the gaps in the wooden floor to the gurgling water below, the planks gently knocking as I stepped on them. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617565382-PI62NOWT79BDR3MHMS9T/20160720_164200.jpg Deadhorse - Ave Maria Grotto St. Bernard Abbey, Cullman, Alabama A little further on I pulled into the grounds of St. Bernard Abbey, a Benedictine monastery founded by German monks in 1840. One of their monks, Brother Joseph Zoetle, had had the misfortune to be maimed at an early age, causing him to walk with a hunchback. A rather cruel rule of the period meant, due to his abnormal appearance, Brother Joseph couldn’t be ordained as a priest and was side-lined to run the monastery’s power plant. Evidently unfulfilled, Brother Joseph started making model reproductions of the world’s great religious monuments out of left-over building materials. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617574466-TOM99TNKV61Y2XPQUYQT/20160722_095254_001.jpg Deadhorse - Fame Studios, Muscle Shoals The legendary recording studio. Upon explanation, he took me into the main studio. It was a faded beige colour with wood panelling on the walls. It could have been a waiting room for a third-world passport office. A handwritten sign read, ‘Fame Studios – where it all started.’ A simple four-piece drum kit sat in the middle of the room, mic’ed up. An organ with two keyboards and old-fashioned pull-valves was tucked behind the grand piano. And that was it. That’s evidently all Wilson Picket needed to record ‘Mustang Sally’. https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/1654617593115-N2C3LWEPEISKAQX4FHHN/20160725_123330.jpg Deadhorse - Ferry across the Mississippi Boarding the Hickman Ferry, Hickman, Kentucky On the edge of town, the road rose abruptly over a levee holding back the Mississippi, changing to a gravel track. From here, it’s 50 miles north or south to the nearest bridge across this mighty river. But a sign on the side of the dusty road was what I was looking for: ‘Push button for Ferry.’ https://www.james-anthony.com/booking daily 0.75 2025-04-24 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/62951d632bfe3e7c143e3404/a1fe0b39-cdf1-4c62-a8e5-84fb28797db1/James+Anthony+Lit-fest+Flyer.jpg https://www.james-anthony.com/home-1 daily 0.75 2025-06-10 https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ce470bcbc4af100017f26ef/1559231679758-YFUMC6A05L9B09XH8C2O/record.jpg Home - New album available on vinyl on June 15th. Featuring “Dummy,” as well as non-album tracks “Jail Time” and “Mexican Vacation.” A very limited run of 500 copies pressed on beautiful 180 gram vinyl. Get it before it’s gone! https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ce470bcbc4af100017f26ef/1559236665963-9UE234MFX24G4NQ1Z74W/poster-3.jpg Home https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ce470bcbc4af100017f26ef/1559232872995-Q7OIV60YSWJ1E4GP22QE/record.jpg Home https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ce470bcbc4af100017f26ef/1559236680665-12D6RDZOVPTRUOH2WEKT/t-shirt-4.jpg Home