Scenes from Huntsville

I can officially say I missed my calling in life – feeding lettuce leaves to desert tortoises. It took a trip to Huntsville to reach that conclusion Once I saw their reaction to the lettuce and had an 85-pounder try to climb up my leg with his scaly, club-like feet, I was sold.

Before any of that could happen, Nancy and I had to find the Harmony Park Safari, which remains mostly off the grid. It had no website and only remarks on a handful of travel sites.

But we found directions. Near a bridge crossing the Tennessee River in northeastern Alabama, we took a left into the country, technically still in Huntsville but far from the historic blocks that escaped the Civil War unscathed. Here the land turned lush and green, peaks hemmed in the valley filled with small farms.

We followed wood signs down narrow roads. A little turn in the woods brought us to the double-gated enclosure with a few simple rules – drive no faster than 5 mph, don’t get out of the car under any circumstances, and don’t lower the windows too far.

 At the gates, we armed ourselves with a bucket of food pellets. Being the first car of the day comes with its privileges. Every animal in the park anticipated our cargo. A number of emus stuck their heads through the gates. Hordes of exotic deer with twisting, velvety antlers formed an anxious honor guard around the car. Velvety antlers were welcome and helped to avoid any scratches on the relatively new Scion XB. Then came the sheep, llamas and ponies.

Our car produced a frenzy and inside it, spontaneous laughter. For weeks after the safari, tongue streaks, snoutprints and muddy hoofprints smeared the driver and front passenger windows. Even now, thoughts of swarming deer produce a chuckle or two.

Not all animals swarmed the car. A zebra and an ostrich on different parts of the drive had our undivided attention. When the pack ungulates and antelope surged toward us, the zebra abruptly broke away and hazed them back into the trees.

 After a last encounter with an assertive bull from some exotic species and passing the alligator pens, we strolled into the tortoise enclosure. Like many small animal parks, the safari had a few gentle outliers (Tibetan monkeys, ring-tailed lemurs).

The leather-headed turtles and their intricate shells were the clear stars. For the most part, they could have care less about us. Some picked up a little as we entered their space. Mostly, they stayed ambivalent as we posed for pictures.

Tortoises might walk slowly, but no animal is faster at retreating into its homegrown defense. Two of the younger tortoises, possibly adolescents, had a minor scrum, with one snapping at the other’s head. The other tortoise was no victim, speedily withdrawing into its shell before trying to walk backwards with its head still sheltered.

It isn't lettuce, but it will do

The reptile house revealed many exotic, snakes, lizards and turtles, including some rare albino specimens. Its not often when matches the placid gaze of an albino spiny soft-shelled turtle. Some were more common but no less striking; it’s hard to forget an alligator snapper’s camouflaged eyes following us around the room. A macaw named Homer took a swipe at Nancy’s fingers. At the top of the wildlife park’s hill, a long adolescent giraffe stood in the rear of its enclosure, waiting for the mountain shadows to provide some cover.

Homer

 Only a turtle encore remained. We picked up a $1 cup of Romaine lettuce leaves and returned to the tortoise habitat. Their reception changed dramatically. Even the most lethargic of the bunch swarmed to us. We tried to distribute them evenly among them, but the armored foot of a massive tortoise propped on my foot is an effective tool of persuasion. We left laughing out of joy. The first lettuce leaves of the day for the tortoises more than made our day.

We had many more miles to cover in Huntsville. Beyond the space center, Huntsville doesn’t have a big profile outside the southeast. But it deserves one. With a city population of 180,000 and a metro population of close to 700,000, Huntsville is Alabama’s fourth-largest city. Size is somewhat relative – Huntsville, Montgomery, Mobile and Birmingham all have between 180,000 and 212,000 residents.

Approaching Huntsville after twilight, major portions of the city beyond downtown and the space center appeared blacked out. The military arsenal to the city’s south contributes somewhat, but the biggest generator of emptiness was apparent the next morning. A pocket of Appalachian peaks looms above the city. The ascent starts only a few blocks beyond the historic district.

Monte Sano lookout

Classified as a mesa (yes, in Alabama), Monte Sano rises 1,000 feet over Huntsville. Ascending almost immediately east of the historic districts, the flat-topped mountain is deeply forested and was once included a sanatorium for illnesses in pre-antibiotic America.

The eastern edge is protected as Monte Sano State Park, a lush thatch of green hiding pockets of rustic Depression-era cabins. Neither of us anticipated an afternoon hike but there we were atop the mountain looming above Huntsville. We took a relatively short trail along both sides of the ridgeline. Views of the surrounding valleys were every bit as rich as those further up the Cumberland Plateau.

Huntsville’s downtown quickly shifts from a cluster of squat government buildings to a 19th century square and some of the oldest homes in the Southeast. Twickenham and Old Town historic districts have blocks and blocks of antebellum homes, the oldest dating back to the 1820s. Our adventures brought us back to Courthouse Square several times. With the square deserted in the morning, we found breakfast at a quiet café.

After cruising many blocks of old homes, we checked out the square. The square wasn’t just a courthouse, law offices and the site where Alabama held its constitution convention then voted to join the Union. The brick buildings were are well-preserved as the nearby homes. At Harrison Brothers Hardware Store, the state’s oldest, the wares has changed somewhat from the 1870s. Run by the Historic Huntsville Foundation, it possesses a great deal of 19th century charm. We left with a slide whistle, some postcards, a giant cutting board and some old-fashioned wooden planes destined for short backyard flights.

Still standing after 195 years

In a little more than 36 hours, we experience a good slice of Huntsville’s culinary, brewing and historic culture. On our way into Huntsville, we stopped at Blue Pants Brewery in nearby Madison for a few fresh pints.

After our Saturday morning and afternoon touring, Nancy treated me to a delicious birthday dinner at Cotton Row, an upscale restaurant in a brick building on Courthouse Square that dates to 1821. Corn fritters started us off well, followed entrees of swordfish for Nancy and duck breast for me, closing with world-class desserts (a nectarine based special for Nancy, peanut butter, jelly and phyllo for me). I had some problems with the by-the-glass red wine selections (pinot noir should not taste like port) but did better with a snappy Rhone rose.

On the square’s opposing corner, we stopped for cocktails at the Amendment XXI Bar. Near the spacious patio, an old bluesman played sweet notes on a Fender Stratocaster and a small amp. He spent more time talking with the patio patrons than playing, but he commanded attention nonetheless.

After the square, we took a swing past Yellowhammer Brewing. Set in an industrial part of Huntsville, the quiet, nearly empty Yellowhammer taproom did not feel right for the lack of parking out front. Soon we discovered why – a backdoor opened into an expansive beer garden with patio tables and live music. As for the beers, the young brewer showed a streak of ingenuity with its Belgian-style ales. We finished our pints over music then headed onward into the Huntsville night.

By walking through that door, the experience proved much more fulfilling than we initially expected while drinking amid the brew tanks. In the same fashion, just going to Huntsville and exploring led the Rocket City to reveal facets not obvious from its public image.

Come back soon - and don't forget the food pellets.