Along a wistful highway

Weekend
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Along a wistful highway

Weekend
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Blue highways take you to the

little towns that are the heart and soul of this country, and, at the

risk of sounding country-Western, blue highways are often wistful highways.

William Least Heat Moon named

his memorable book of 20 or so years ago Blue Highways to celebrate the

two-lane "back roads" usually colored blue on the state highway

map.

The interstates get you from

point A to point B more quickly, of course, and opposed as I am to the

paving of America, I do love the interstate system for its efficiency

as well as for its broad, sweeping vistas.

But the blue highways we travel

most these days are the rivers of the Southeast. We got hooked on river

barging in Europe, where waterways thread past villages humming quietly

about their business of being community centers. Many provide docks and

tie-ups as part of a park stretching along a river front just a few paces

from the town center, giving boaters access to fresh groceries and locals

access to a green retreat where they can walk or sit or just watch the

river slide by with its waterborne traffic.

Some of our best memories of

France are of trudging up a flower-lined gravel path to a busy street

with a boulangerie , a green grocer and a bakery. We learned the

right way to say "Bonjour," not the flat greeting of high school

French class, but a caroling "BOHN-zhoor!" that starts high

in the head, as tenors like to explain the quality of their voices.

Fresh-baked baguettes ,

some fromage blanche , a local vin , and we thought we were

in heaven.

Sadly, our attempts to replicate

our European experience have left us feeling ... well, wistful.

Don't misunderstand. For scenic

beauty, the American rivers we've experienced hold their own with most

that we enjoyed in Europe. (Well, all right, we have come around many

a bend and sighed, "What a beautiful scene, but that little mountain

would have a castle on it if we were in Germany.")

But here, the towns often disappoint.

Granted, cruising is an undiscovered recreation in America. Most of my

countrymen see boats as merely a way to get to where the fish are, or

to tow water-skiers back and forth across a lake.

And for that very reason, the

towns and marinas along the American waterways in our experience are geared

up for fishermen or vacationers out on the water for a day. The few "grocery"

stores we do find are stocked with Vienna sausage and corn chips and soft

drinks. If we're really lucky, we'll find a convenience store within walking

distance ­ which for us is a mile or two, depending on the weather

and how much we expect to have to carry.

We've learned that asking someone

at a marina to direct us to a food store within walking distance usually

gets us a puzzled look or a flat denial that there's any food "within

walking distance." I've come to the conclusion that the puzzled look

means he can't imagine why anyone would want to mix grocery-shopping with

a day on the water, and "walking distance" means the stretch

from his kitchen door to the pickup truck in his carport.

Rare is the American river

town that provides a dock at all, much less within easy reach of downtown.

It's the old "chicken-or-the-egg" conundrum: city fathers can't

see spending a few thousand dollars to welcome rare river cruisers, and

the number of river cruisers won't increase greatly as long as services

are hard to come by.

When we're low on supplies,

we want a place with certain public amenities, and we're willing to pay

for them:

· A low dock with strong

cleats to make fast to ...

· Ideally, with a city

water faucet within reach of our hose;

· A walkway, not too steep,

leading to a nearby street;

· A grocery store bigger

than a convenience store;

· A drugstore or hardware

store would be a real perk;

· A clean laundromat,

maybe next door to a good mom-and-pop diner.

· A newspaper rack with

something in it besides USA Today.

· A public shower for

trips in weather too cold for river baths heaven!

Anything more would be icing

on the cake. Noteworthy examples of such river hospitality are Chattanooga

and Nashville, Tenn. and Columbus, Ga., where most of the above were available,

plus beautiful waterfront parks and great restaurants. In the case of

Chattanooga, add a first-rate aquarium and several museums and sculpture

gardens.

Next week we'll visit some

small towns that offer river hospitality, and one that doesn't. ...

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