Tell you what, there's a hunter in all of us, and if you've ever pulled off the highway because you spotted a flea market sign, you know what I mean. Family Destinations Guide did a piece on Flea Land down in Bowling Green, Kentucky's largest indoor, climate-controlled flea market. That's not marketing talk either. The indoor part alone runs 300 booths across more than 85,000 square feet, and there's another 100 booths outdoors on top of that.

Here's what I like about a place like Flea Land. It's the same instinct that gets me up before dawn in a deer stand. You're not guaranteed anything. You might walk the whole thing and come home with nothing but sore feet, or you might find the hand tool you've been hunting for ten years, priced at five dollars because the seller doesn't know what it is. Doesn't matter if it's a whitetail or a vintage wrench, the feeling's the same when you find it.

And the variety down there is something else. You've got your standard flea market stuff, tools and cast iron and old knives, but also antiques, furniture, signs, records, fishing tackle, more boots and hats than a man could wear out in a lifetime. There's a section of newer retail too, if you need work clothes or a battery for the truck while you're there. Being climate controlled means you can go in January or July and be just fine, which matters when you're talking about Kentucky weather. It swings both directions hard.

My advice is you don't rush a flea market any more than you'd rush a float trip. Start at one end, work your way through, and don't buy the first thing you see unless it's a screaming deal, because there's a good chance somebody three rows over has the same thing for half the price.

Now, is everything at a big flea market a treasure? No. There's always going to be piles of knockoff sunglasses and phone chargers of questionable origin. But that stuff just makes the real finds sweeter. You dig through the ordinary to get to the good stuff, same as panning for galena in an Ozark creek. Most of what washes by is gravel. Every now and then something catches the light.

If you go, bring cash, bring a truck or at least an empty trunk, and wear boots you can stand in for a few hours. Haggling is expected but be decent about it. The folks selling at these things are often cleaning out a barn or a relative's estate, and they'd rather see a good tool go home with somebody who'll use it than squeeze an extra two bucks out of you.

I've been meaning to get back down through that part of Kentucky anyway. Might have to time it with my fall Ozark trip and swing wide on the way home. A man can never have too many old hand tools, and the truck's got bed space to spare.