Yard Sale Marathon

Friday: From Harrodsburg through Tennessee to Lookout Mountain, Ga.
Friday morning, refreshed and excited for a new day of shopping, Vernelle and I iced up the cooler and started off again. One of our first stops was a huge sale at an Amish farm near Dunnville, Ky. I felt like Miss America walking around with a huge ruby-red bouquet of cockscomb that I bought for $4, waving and smiling to all the gasping onlookers who asked where I got such a beautiful bunch of flowers. I'd bought the last of it, I told them, and watched their faces as they learned one of the rules of yard-sale shopping:

- If you see it and you want it — and it will fit in your car — buy it!
- Get there early — second chances are rare at yard sales.
- Haggle, haggle, haggle! Never pay the marked price.

Amish men make homemade ice cream, churned by a horse on a treadmill near Dunnville, Ky.

A bluegrass band was playing on the grounds there, and a few members of the local Amish community were making ice cream with a horse-powered treadmill of sorts. A little produce stand right in the middle of dozens of tables of yard sale items had some very beckoning tomatoes, and homemade breads, chowders, jams and canned foods were plentiful. Vernelle and I made several good purchases and saw some interesting sites at that sale; I'm adding it to my list of places to return to next year.

Nancy Johnson from Waynesville, Ohio, poses with the bargain of the year, the infamous dollar chair.

A few miles down the road, a phenomenon I've come to know as yard-sale serendipity happened again when Vernelle screamed, "It's the dollar chair!" A quick turnaround in the SUV and we met up with Nancy and Larry Johnson from Waynesville, Ohio. Their bright red truck's bed did indeed hold the infamous "leather-ish" dollar chair from up the road. Larry was kind enough to flip the chair over so I could get a good photo, and when he did so, he found a tiny blue car in the chair's cushions. We all wondered if the little old car is worth more than the dollar they paid for the chair. Either way, I agreed with Nancy when she said, "I think I got the best bargain of the sale!" She promised me photos when she finishes reupholstering it; stay tuned.

At the next two stops Vernelle and I learned a yard-sale lesson of our own. Vernelle found a couple of cake pans that she wanted — she's sweet like that, always giving her friends baked goods — but the vendor wanted $8 for the pair. That was a little more than Vernelle was willing to pay, so we passed and moseyed on to the next sale. As we walked away, the vendor 'called' out to us that we'd not find those for any better price than that. Sassy as ever, Vernelle called back that maybe not, but she'd sure try and at our very next stop, she did. She got nine — yes, nine cake pans, including a wedding-cake graduated set — for the same $8 the man up the road wanted for just two plain round pans. (She had a similar experience with a vintage fan, too — we saw so many at the sale this year, but she held out for the right price — and the one with the right price just happened to be the color she wanted and the brand name market on the front of the fan was an old family name. Serendipity.)

Diane and Michael Axel from Cleveland, Ohio, with their prized fireplace screen.

Friday was a good day for yard-sale serendipity all around, because at that same sale we bumped into our new friends Diane and Michael, grinning from ear to ear with the experience of good bargains under their yard-sale money belts. Diane had found her pretty and broken-in cowboy boots — leather ones with brass toes, even — for only $10, and she and Michael had just bought a gorgeous old fireplace screen, painted on canvas and with a wood carved wood frame for $40. They were already making plans to come back next year with more time and more money. Hopefully we'll bump into them again next year.

When we pulled into a parking lot full of sale tents at our next stop, I heard the DJ on the local radio station mention HGTV's special about last year's sale. He praised the show but commented that we'd unfortunately missed a good sale area — Russell Springs. I was about to tell Vernelle we'd have to be sure to find Russell Springs when she pointed to the sign in front of us and read, "Mantle Shop Antiques, Russell Springs, Ky." Serendipity again. The Endless Yard Sale film crew made it to Russell Springs this year, and Vernelle and I were both glad we did, too. We found several good pieces with very fair prices at the Mantle Shop and at the tents on their property. I got a butterfly net for $1, and Vernelle got some great vintage jewelry for great prices. That woman does love her jewels.

After Russell Springs, Vernelle and I decided to take a break from shopping and just get some miles out of the way. Our reservations that night were way down in Lookout Mountain, Ga., and we weren't even in Tennessee yet. Plus, our favorite sale for the past three years was waiting on us a quite a way down the road in Jamestown, Tenn., so we made a bee line for the state line. It was nearly dark when we got to Jamestown, but several sales were still going strong with lights set up. We were pleased to learn about the night shopping opportunities as we had never been shopping there past 5 or 6 in the evening and were usually on our way back home by then.

Even though it was late, the lights encouraged our hopes that our favorite shopping spot would still be doing business — until we reached the place where we loved to shop the most and found a for sale sign on the property. The old gray farmhouse that had been an antique store was closed, as was the Coca-Cola café in the back where we always had lunch after a long but worth-it wait for a seat. The pink farmhouse also on the property was dark, and the rows and rows of sale tents that usually surrounded it were nowhere to be found. We were devastated; I especially was because my favorite buys always came from this spot. Every year I'd treat myself to a piece or two of the most exquisite vintage linens from Belgium that a dealer from Texas sold there, and now I don't know where her booth is. If anyone knows where to find her now, do let me know.

By the time we were over that shock, it was truly dark, and we had a few hours to go yet. Tired and hungry at 9 p.m., we stopped in Pikeville to gas up the yard-sale-mobile and asked the lady at the store if there was anywhere nearby that we could have dinner. She quickly mentioned the Pikeville Family Restaurant and picked up the phone to call them. Turns out they weren't exactly still open but they invited us to come on down there for dinner. We hated to impose so late, but our options were considerably limited at that hour, so we went; and boy, were we glad.

Before we were even parked, we saw a few members of the family waving to us real friendly like to come on in. When we did, we were greeted as if we, too, were family; they brought us drinks and menus right away, and in no time at all we both had the freshest little side salads we'd ever eaten. We were thankfully munching down every bite when our dinners arrived, and they, too, were yummy. We left full and happy with a whole new family of friends and a promise to stop there the next day for lunch on our way back through toward home.

We spent that night at the Chanticleer Inn in Lookout Mountain, Ga., in the most comfortable beds known to man. It was like sleeping in a marshmallow — feather duvets, feather beds, feather pillows, and the softest crisp white linens. The fog on the mountain and the odd street-sign system thereabouts gave us a bit of a fit before we finally got there, but those fluffy beds were worth every minute of it.

A cluster of beautifully furnished sale tents outside the Antique Station in Signal Mountain, Tenn.

Saturday: From Lookout Mountain back through Tennessee to Crossville and home
The next morning came too soon, but we were nonetheless excited about another day of shopping. We'd driven several hours in the dark the night before, and that was missed shopping ground that we planned to retrace on Saturday as we made our way north from Chattanooga, Tenn., back up to Crossville and the interstate home. We stopped at several large fields of tents, but the rain was even worse Saturday than the two days before and we had a schedule to keep, so we kept on driving through most of that area. We did find a wonderful sale in the front yard of the Antique Station in Signal Mountain, a really charming area with beautiful old homes along the highway. Most all of the tent sales there were decorated like lovely shabby chic booths in antique stores, with lots of pretty linens, flowery dishes and painted white furniture.

There were several good sales between Signal Mountain and Pikeville, especially on Pikeville's charming main street, and the sun came out just long enough to turn our shoulders pink. We were both excited to get back to the Pikeville Family Restaurant for lunch, and we were greeted like long-lost family members when we went back in. The little place was still packed at 3 in the afternoon, but we found a table and ordered a late lunch. It was just as great as dinner the night before had been, and we were sorry to say goodbye to them again. After that, we made our way back toward Crossville and a few favorite familiar stops there before getting on the interstate for home.

While a few favorite places weren't there this year and we still wonder what bargains await at the sales from Chattanooga south into Alabama, Vernelle and I are proud of our yard sale marathon success this year and are already looking forward to next year's sale.