Any place I hang my hat...(3 of 16)

I checked into the Hotel McArthur, built in 1839 and the oldest building in town. Owner Krazy Katie—a nickname she chose herself—told me that although the vast second floor ballroom had been partitioned long ago into smaller rooms, the original sprung-wood floors may still be found underfoot. A handwritten sign on the front door reads "Smile, you're on camera." Once through the door, you'll find a bar on the first floor, the Buzzard’s Knest (with a “K” for Katie), where Bikers are Welcome. Recently gave up her hotel license to instead run the place as a boarding house that takes overnight guests, a distinction that allows her to ignore the state rules that prohibit smoking in rooms. The Wild Turkey Festival midway was set up directly in front of the hotel. From my room, the amplified live entertainment—nightly shows by up-and-coming Country Music artists—filled my room with echoes of steel pedal and the throb of bass guitar.