The Evolution of Elvis in Tupelo

Having seen the rise, demise and living legend of the King in Memphis, we headed Southeast to Tupelo, Mississippi, to experience the birthplace and early life of young Elvis.

A welcoming greeting in Tupelo. 

Our first stop was Elvis's favorite first stop after school, Johnnie's Drive-In. We arrived before noon but already the booths were filling up.

A group of female fans had taken over the "Elvis booth," and even as we were leaving after lunch showed no sign of relinquishing it.

We slid into another one and ordered a Doughburger, the poor Southerner's answer to more mouths than meat to feed them. I had never tried one and Johnnie's is one of the few spots left serving the fried mix of flour and hamburger meat. Let's just say I should have followed Elvis's example and ordered a regular cheeseburger and an RC Cola.

It was easy to picture him as a grade schooler sitting in that booth by the wall reading a Captain Marvel Jr. comic book.

There are those who say that the inspiration for the lightning bolt, hairstyle and capes Elvis favored came from that poor young cripple who could turn into the world's strongest boy. There is an equal number who say otherwise, but it is heartwarming to imagine a poor little boy with limited prospects finding inspiration and hope in a comic book character with whom he could identify.

Tupelo Visitors Center
(photo courtesy of Visit Tupelo)

Elvis was born here. 

To see just how limited those opportunities appeared, we drove to where his first home and first church have been moved: the Elvis Presley Birthplace Park.

"Elvis at 13" in the Elvis Presley Birthplace Park.

The Elvis Presley Birthplace memorial complex with visitors' center and museum sets both amid lovely trees and landscaping, but the two-room shotgun house must have been bleak in its original location. Vernon Presley borrowed $185 from his employer for the materials, but was unable to keep up the payments and the family had to move two years after moving in.

On the hill behind the memorial center is an impressive tribute to the boy who had ambitions and the man who realized them.

Elvis made his first public appearance at the age of 10 in the Mississippi-Alabama Fair Dairy Show. He sang the Red Foley ballad "Old Shep" and won 5th place.

For his 11th birthday Elvis wanted to spend the money he had earned doing errands and chores for people on a .22-caliber rifle or a bicycle he saw in the window when his mother Gladys took him down to Tupelo Hardware.

Tupelo Hardware

A prominent three-story building on downtown's Main Street, it had everything a mechanic, farmer, handyman, housewife or even an 11-year-old could want. The clerk,  Forrest Bobo, knew that Gladys hated guns and the bicycle was pricey, so he handed Elvis a guitar. "How about this?" he asked, pulling up a wooden box  behind the showcase and letting Elvis play with it.

Tupelo Hardware still has an array of guitars.

Elvis didn't have enough money for the guitar or the rifle, but Gladys said if he chose the guitar she would pay the difference. No one's fool, Elvis looked at Gladys and said, "That's alright, Momma," and left with the guitar.

Prints and pictures of Elvis and, like this one, "The Magic Moment," are hung on shelves filled with more typical hardware fare.

It was a beginner model Kay and cost $7.75 plus 2 % tax. Much later, Joe Perry of Aerosmith bought a guitar here, too, as have other admirers of the entertainer 11-year-old Elvis became.

One can do Elvis all day long in Tupelo from murals

to delightful painted six-foot tall guitars all over town.

We were particularly fond of a meadery and several restaurants.

Our first night we found, finally, the much recommended Blue Canoe. It does not disappoint either. Picture a corrugated structure adorned inside with neon and painted signs with a bandstand at one end for nightly live music,  a bar at the other. Casual and fun, its food is Southern with an exclamation point.

My Pork and Greens entree arrived looking as good as it tasted: pulled pork and collard greens atop silky cheese grits with a red vinegar sauce and cornbread. Heaven. Debi was equally pleased with hers.

Pork and Greens

Dessert. Connie's Blueberry Doughnut Bread Pudding, which we shared, was a knockout, too.

To be honest, we weren't sure we wanted to go to the first meadery in Mississippi, but we quickly decided we did once inside and  talking to owner of Queen's Reward Jeri Carter.

It is easy to see why this has become a popular spot in town. A combination of a savvy entrepreneur and the consummate Southern hostess, Jeri makes everyone feel welcome.

 In addition to the array of small-batch, well balanced mead to be tasted by adults,visitors are encouraged to bring picnics, pets and kids to relax and play games outside on the expansive grounds. On weekends, food trucks and music might be added.

Relax or play games outside.

We capped our final evening at Forklift Restaurant, a popular upscale neighborhood eatery. A nice piece of salmon and veggies was just the thing.

We were in for an unexpected treat our last morning in Tupelo. Our hostess, Jennie Bradford Curlee, of the Tupelo Convention and Visitors Bureau, insisted we could not go without brunch at King Chicken Fillin' Station.  

We arrived early. As we looked around, we did not hold out much hope of a fine meal as it was, in fact, a filling station, gas pumps and all, plus an Elvis theme. 

Mural at the Filling Station

Inside it was basic brightened by painted ceiling tiles starring chickens, 

Tupelo

 and Elvis.

The brunch menu consisted of the darnedest concoctions we had ever encountered with fried chicken, eggs and biscuits as the basis for most. With some trepidation, I ordered Love Me Tender: an open-faced honey butter biscuit, fried chicken, smoked bacon, sausage gravy, white cheddar cheese and fried egg. Debi chose A Hot Mess: open-faced honey butter biscuit, sausage, smoked bacon, fried egg, peppers and onions, sausage gravy, roasted jalapeno hot sauce, white cheddar cheese.

A Hot Mess

Love Me Tender

The verdict: delicious.

All Elvis fans and those driving the Natchez Trace Parkway should consider an overnight stop in Tupelo. 

Rocky Mountain High Lakes

It was a day for extremes as the Good Girls went from the high hot desert around Moab to the high cool mountain lake of Grand Lake, Colorado. As headwaters of the Columbia River we had been following, it was an appropriate destination.

A slightly unplanned turnoff took us to our destination via a rural route that put us in a Rocky Mountain frame of mind, thanks to
meadows,

Meadows and hills in Colorado. Photo © by Judy Wells.

 hills that grew into mountains,

Photo by Debi Lander.

sheep,

cattle and nary a car nor truck without ski racks and a heavy tow rig on the back.

We rendezvoused with our friend and host Gaylene Ore and followed her to Grand Lake where we checked into one of The Western Riviera's rustic, cabin-like efficiency rooms overlooking the lake.

Grand Lake Lodge. Photo © Judy Wells.

We hopped in with Gaylene for lunch at the historic Grand Lake Lodge. Opened in July 1920, burned in 1973, it was rebuilt and opened in 1981. I suspect the rooms, cabins, pool and dining room have been busy ever since. It reminded us of a period National Park lodge, which it was. Another was in Estes Park at the other end of the road through Rocky Mountains National Park.

View from Grand Lake Lodge porch. Photo © by Judy Wells.

Don't miss the view or the bison meatloaf.

Bison meatloaf. Photo by Judy Wells.

Grand Lake. Photo © by  Judy Wells.

After settling in and admiring our views of the lake we headed out to survey downtown Grand Lake, basically a street that parallels the lake with a few side streets.

Exchange tennis shoes for boots and you are back in the old West. Photo © by Judy Wells.

On both sides stores are fronted with old-fashioned boardwalks adding to its casual Western/boating flavor. It is, after all, home of the world's highest yacht club. Registered in 1902, the Grand Lake Yacht Club hosts an annual race with the ornate silver, ever so prestigious trophy donated by tea purveyor and yachtsman Sir Thomas J. Lipton.

Historic Rapids Lodge and Restaurant. Photo © by Judy Wells.

This disarmingly small-town burg has two other big-time attractions, Rapids Lodge and Restaurant and Rocky Mountain Repertory Theatre.  We dined superbly at one and were rousingly entertained at the other.

Rapids of the Tonahutu River. Photo © by Judy Wells.

We joined Gaylene at the Lodge's restaurant after admiring the racing, tumbling rapids of the Tonahutu River it overlooks, imagining how nice it would be to sleep to their sound.

It wasn't long before our attention was the meal. Elk chops with raspberry demi-glace filled our plates with enticing aromas and our palates with delectable flavors.

Elk Chops, a taste of the new  West. Photo © by  Judy Wells.

We didn't encounter the Lodge's ghost, a friendly old lady who wanders the corridors, but we did get a kick out of the Lodge's history. Built by intrepid pioneer John Wesley Ish and opened in 1915, the hotel had electricity, indoor baths and running water. It has had 30 owners since through some pretty wild times as recently as the 1950s when the second floor was a gambling casino, the third floor a brothel, with a buzzer at the front desk to warn patrons to head for the back stairs when the law was approaching.

History of another sort is focus of musical "Newsies," one of four musicals in rotation at the Rocky Mountain Repertory Theatre. It makes a night of good theater telling the story of impoverished New York newsboys who went on strike in 1899 tackling powerful publishing moguls Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst.

We were pleasantly stunned by both the handsome theater and the talented cast. No surprise that the group is celebrating its 50th anniversary. Other shows in this year's repertory, "Mamma Mia!" "Westside Story" and "Almost Heaven, Songs of John Denver."

We chatted with the couple in front of us at intermission and discovered they drive the 100 miles from Denver to catch the season every year. Pretty good recommendation, I'd say.

The town was shut or shutting down as we walked back to our room. We'd been too full to try either of the ice cream shops, one at each end of Main Street, both attracting crowds of customers. Time had been too short to do more than quickly scan the shops. Probably a good thing because we were tempted by several.

Grand Lake. Photo © by Judy Wells.

Nor had we been able to catch the boat tour around the lake, the largest natural one in Colorado, and learn more about the area's history. But we had dedicated a whole day to spend in Rocky Mountain National Park before heading up to Sheridan, Wyoming.

No one could believe we had yet to sight a moose, particularly between Grand Lake and the park. We were disappointed, too, until early the next morning as we headed to the Denver airport for the next leg of our trip. We were bemoaning the lack of moose sightings when I glanced over to the right side of the road and saw one between the trees. He paused in his dewy morning meal, gave us a long look and went back to eating.

I felt like Captain Preston of the Yukon at the end of every radio broadcast when he would turn to his trusty Husky and say, "Well, King, case closed."

Back into the Great Amercan West

The Eastern Chapter of the Society of American Travel Writers was meeting in Sheridan, Wyoming, and our friend Gaylene Ore suggested we stop en route to see her territory in Colorado which is all the Good Girls needed to start planning our 2017 road trip. 

Most appropriate as a travel writers' meeting in South Dakota inspired this site, our moniker and these annual jaunts six years ago. We invited you to come along then and hope you are still riding along today. #Good Girls Westward Ho!

Day 1, June 12, 2017: We're stopping here why?

From this to the jail? Photo © by Judy Wells.

After flying into Denver and picking up a rental car, our GPS steered us through mountains, Vail Village where Judy waxed nostalgic over idyllic summers, past the turnoff for Aspen where Debi recalled ski trips, through Grand Junction's lengthy homelier side, dumping us a what it said was our destination, the driveway of the county jail.

Relying on our hostess Gaylene Ore more than electronics, we eventually landed correctly, in a well-equipped room at the Springhill Suites Hotel. It got better.

Grand Junction Visitors Bureau left a tote bag of goodies welcoming the Good Girls.

Pie improves everything. Photo © by Judy Wells.

After a day of 1/2-ounce packs of airplane peanuts or pretzels, a whole dinner anywhere would have been good but at Bin 707 it was superb. Fried artichoke hearts were intriguing, the lamb tenderloin was beyond good and a slice of Momofuku's pie with its ground oatmeal cookie crust was too rich for even the Good Girls to finish.

Photo © by  Judy Wells.

A quick stop at the hotel breakfast buffet and we hit the streets of downtown Grand Junction for real revelation. Flowers and fountains brightened the wide streets.

Art on the Corner added interest everywhere around the restored 19th century storefronts.

Apt entrance to the West, 19th century facades. Photo © by Judy Wells.

So intrigued were we that we forgot to stop for coffee at Enstrom Candies famed for their almond toffee for four generations. (When the Good Girls pass up a sweet or caffeine treat you know they have been captivated.)

Sculpture to look at and play with. Photo © by Judy Wells.

Best of all, on a Tuesday morning, the many cafes were bustling with business. Customers sat outside, often with dogs at their feet. Mothers shared coffee while their children played around fountains and climb-on-me sculpture.
Older residents lingered over bagels.

That's one large shiny bison. Photos by Debi Lander.

We resisted adding retail therapy to our itinerary, but stopped by Cafe Sol to pick up wraps, salad, desserts and beverages for lunch.

Not quite ready. Photo by Debi Lander.

Next stop, Two Rivers Winery & Chateau, a lovely pale stone complex complete with B&B.  They currently ship 12,000 to 14,000 cases a year to 20 states. We liked the cabernet.

Gaylene suggested we spend several hours visiting Colorado State Monument but thinking in terms of a statue of some kind, we wondered how much time seeing a monument could possibly take.

Could the day get any better?

Imagine our surprise when we drove into what was more like a national park with spectacular scenery and clouds that vied for attention.

Deep canyons...

soaring cliffs...

tunnels...

valleys...

eons of geologic history ...

and yes, a monument.

Independence Monument.

There was a photograph demanding to be taken at every turn in the road and there were many of those. Not crowded either.

Sometimes there is an advantage to not having a clue. Our reactions were stunned delight.

Unlike the stunned horror of Beatrice Farnham, the young Boston artist who was briefly the wife of John Otto, the man responsible for protecting this piece of irreplaceable territory.  He wanted to live life in the open, visiting every inch of his spot of heaven. As the brief bride said, "I tried hard to live his way, but I could not do it, I could not live with a man to whom even a cabin was an encumbrance."

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We felt sorry for her but grateful for Otto's dogged dedication. And to Gaylene for introducing us to this monument.

Art and life combine in this image of John Otto against the side of the Visitors Center. Photo by Debi Lander.

If you have a choice of approaching from the east or west, choose the east, Grand Junction, gate. That puts most scenic pull offs on your right. Trust us, you will use them!