Road Trip With Rusty

To take off with Rusty on a week long trip grew in mind to become an event worth anticipating. My wife said that as my summer had been interrupted by her gall bladder I deserved a week off in the mountains while she was working. I squeezed in a week before winter descended on western North Carolina. There was some mention of a motorcycle trip but to me a week of wooded hikes with Rusty sounded just the job.

First though we had to make the 16 hour drive to the Asheville area where my sister-in-law lives in a cabin in the woods. We decided to split the trip in Columbia, the capital of South Carolina, eleven hours away. The idea was to have a short trip the next day to leave time for exploration on the way to Celo, the small community east of Asheville which was my destination.

We stopped here and there for short walks but mostly it was a matter of driving and to leave the Keys and reach anywhere that isn't flat involves a full hardcore day of driving. I don't mind the drive with satellite radio and a comfortable car. Rusty settled in to his bench seat in the back which is filled in behind the driver's seat to make an "L" shaped bed. 

Eventually it got dark around 7:30 and we arrived in Columbia around 9:30. La Quinta was full so we had reserved a Red Roof Inn, another dog-friendly chain. Check-in was a reminder of my work: 

A cop was taking statements from a family complaining they been harassed and someone had stolen an expensive knife from their room. I was past caring. The room was $59 all included, the TV didn't work which was fine by me and the sheets were clean (I think). Rusty was ready to pass out and so was I. He woke me with a cold snout to the face at 4:45 and over all my protests demanded a walk. The parking lot was silent as you might imagine but I found evidence of what might have been the stolen knife being put to use:

Not my blood, not Rusty's so all was well. We left the accursed motel at six and went foraging for breakfast in rural South Carolina early on a Sunday morning. I ended up eating the sandwich my wife had packed while Rusty ate a chicken strip on the road. My plan was to explore a patch of green I had seen on Google Maps and stick looked likely on street view. It worked out.

I parked in a small lot off a dirt road I had spotted on the map. Then a Honda Element pulled in and I asked the driver if it was safe to walk or were they shooting turkey today. Not on Sunday he said and offered to show me the way to Lake Wattacoo (I think). 

Pam had retired from 28 years as a school agronomist so she knew all the trees and their stories. Tom kept a close eye on their two rescued Plott hounds. We walked and talked and they told me of their latest rafting trip down the Grand Canyon. They live forty minutes away but they know these trails very well. We saw waterfalls a lake and visible signs of beaver, the first I've ever seen:

It was an extraordinary window into little know local sights near Cleveland, South Carolina. 

Insect eating plants:

Much gratitude and before we split they showed me a modern take on the Sugarloaf Key bat tower: 

We stopped again and again and Rusty was totally absorbed by the smells and sounds of these woods. 

Federal Highway 276 to Brevard, North Carolina:

And then we took a dirt short cut for fun:

It was time to make tracks to the Blue a Ridge Parkway to avoid traffic around Asheville and Burnsville. Unfortunately it was Subday night and weekend drivers were out in force and barely able to drive 30 miles an hour such was the draw of the colored leaves...we even found ourselves unable to keep up with a cyclist. The Italian driver within me was appalled: 

I broke free. 

Twin Tunnels means I'm close to the Highway 80 edit to Celo:

And so north off the parkway, still lovely still twisty:

And so to our base for the next three days where my sister-in-law and her husband have lived for forty years:

 Bob and Geeta conversing after a pasta dinner over pisco and rum. 

And so to bed. 

Blue Ridge Parkway

I may have mentioned it previously but some people think I spoil my dog. Maybe but unlike a spoiled human my dog is sweet as pie even if she is spoiled. And she had a hard life before she came to me so now she's happy and I'm happy making her happy.

It was my fault because when she nosed her way into an electric fence designed to keep deer out of a vegetable garden I was too busy photographing a bath tub masquerading as a rather nice water trough. After that yelp she decided she wanted to go for a walk somewhere else so we went back to the car and she made it clear she wanted to go someplace by car, thank you. What would you have done?

The fact is I also wanted to pay at least one brief visit to that wonder of government construction, the Blue Ridge Parkway, ten short minutes from my brother-in-law's home. Highway 80, the road that crosses the Parkway here is a fantastic motorcycle ride.

I saw a Top Gear episode where Clarkson and his sidekicks decided to drive muscle cars on the Blue Ridge itself. I did wonder what they were thinking as the speed limit here is never more than 45mph...and in fact they soon quit the BRP for a Nascar track as I recall. Speed is the underlying theme of that deliciously irreverent car show.

The BRP was built in the first Great Depression in the 30s and the standard of stonework on the bridges, tunnels and parapets reflects the values of the era.

It's a fine spot this, full of trees, views, twists and turns close to the big mountain. Key West Diary: Mount Mitchell from 2008.

Splendid views too. This road is a slow drive, and fun especially midweek with less traffic. I've ridden most of it, and not always restrained to 45mph, and I highly recommend it as long as you accept it for what it is, a federal park, enjoyed on the honor system which is refreshing in our Al Quaeda obsessed police state. You get on where you feel like, drive as much as you want, park and rest, enjoy the occasional exhibits and deal with the culture shock when you exit and face billboards, trucks, traffic lights and speed, all prohibited on the Parkway.

Harley rolling road blocks are the norm here, mixed in with plodding Goldwings, so this is their natural habitat. Enjoy!

I wanted to go for a walk and Cheyenne agreed to check it out with me. Very decent of her I'm sure.

She went as far as she wanted, then she stopped. I sat on a convenient log and she plonked down next to me. I was as far from the Keys as I needed to be, in no hurry to get back to flat vistas and salt water.

After a half hour of climbing twists and turns we came back to the perfectly manicured lawn in the overlook. I got out a Kermit chair and my Kindle on my phone. Perfect!

Cheyenne sank into the grass and passed out until the phone rang and the wife ordered us back to Celo for breakfast and packing.

You owe yourself a ride on the BRP one day.

And Highway 80 to Micahville.

We enjoyed New England with it's forests and mountains, but this part of the world is, frankly just as good with the addition of better weather and friendlier locals. Luckily it's also much closer to home! And my wife's family lives here!! How lucky is that?

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Blue Ridge Arts And Crafts

It was not a day of glorious sunshine on the top of the Blue Ridge Parkway, though I with that annoying masculine self assurance that drives women to distraction, assured my anxious wife it was just wind blown clouds scudding over the mountains, not real rain. In point of fact it was the precursor to the sort of biblical rains that they talk about with awe for generations to come. It's not yet August but I dare say already that this will go down in the record books as the wettest of wet summers in northern Appalachia.

Which made it a perfectly splendid day to stop in at the Parkway Craft Center

The center at Mile Post 294 is part of the Southern Highland Craft Guild which has five stores in the mountains and I have no idea about the others but this place is fantastic and well worth a stop in their huge parking area for a look.

I say that and I have no great fondness for dust catchers but the artwork here spans the range of disciplines and yet maintains a closeness to the source of the inspiration.

I am no judge of Art but I really enjoyed walking through what is in effect a gallery devoted to interpretations of woodlands, mountains and the lives of those who have lived in these

The art comes in all media including stained glass representing the four seasons.

I was entranced by all of it but this next piece made of poplar wood had me standing there taking in the details for what seemed like forever.

I remember sleds like these towed by oxen in central Italy when I was a child. And I also remember the back breaking labor of phycically remving stones ploughed up in fields that had to be loaded by hand and removed. This was evocative stuff for me.

You think of Appalachia before World war two (and afterwards too maybe) and making money on a loom is part of the folklore of this civilisation lost in the woods.

The history of the Blue Ridge Parkway which was officially completed only in 1987 was shown for all to see. It came home to me that the huge financial impact of this Works Progress Administration project started by the Government which hired contractors to build the roadway to plans specified by Government surveyors and architects would never happen today. They claim 16 million visitors a year come to this place, worth billions to the local economy.

Our leaders today could never bring themselves to undertake such public works to benefit the people of these United States. Furthermore these same people would arise in revulsion if such a public good were suggested by the leader of the Free World.

And notice the segregation of the facilities in these plans drawn up in the 1930s- and notice how separate and unequal is clearly drawn into the facilities for white people versus the toilets of Negroes.

Numbers three and four are for whites, while smaller five and six are for blacks. And it seems race still matters in the land of the free where "all men are created equal." I have come to understand over the years that one major stumbling block to health care reform is the fear that "those people" will benefit, where "those" people are which ever group is the despised race, sect, or minority of the day. Fate spared me from growing up in a culture where government segregated the races so I tend to be slow when it comes to recognizing those unstated cultural indicators. I see "whites only" signs in museums and they appear to me as alien as "No Jews" signs in photos from the Holocaust.

Happily the architecture of the Parkway is less toxic and is actually fascinating to see how beauty was combined with longevity. I am struck by how public works from a hundred years ago looked good, and worked well.

Further down the page I have a picture of these arches that are as functional and apparently strong today as they were when built.

On the Art front I approached this apple from the other side and was enchanted when I saw the slice cut and the seeds in the middle looked like cherries. How does an artist imagine such a thing?

The art is for sale but three grand? They need some one percenters to come through here.

Great stuff but a three foot tall pear half covered in flowers needs a space larger than than my 750 square foot home to accommodate it. If the pear comes the Labrador goes; ie: no contest!

Quilting is a great Appalachian tradition Quilting The Appalachian Way, Article - BellaOnline Forums and there were a few examples on view.

Let's face it, you're on the Blue Ridge Parkway enjoying the road, even if you are stuck in a cage, and you don't want to stop for anything so you slide past the folk thing hoping your spouse doesn't notice. That would be a mistake.

They have tons of shady parking to keep your Cheyenne happy and if you are riding none of your hard core, bad ass biking buddies need know you had a good time looking at pansy folk arts. this is the America you need to think about when politics and day time TV are driving you crazy.

This wouldn't be my blog if Cheyenne didn't have a corner of the page. This blog is about life in the Keys but failing that my fall back position is a reminder that dogs like life as much as we do and travel broadens a labrador's mind. Sixty degrees in July! Cheyenne's heaven!

Rhododendrons come for the mountains in Northern India where temperatures are not at all tropical so you know a furry fat Labrador is happy here. Wandering on the ridge of the Blue Ridge was her reward for being as patient as ever at the Folk Art place.

I could not fail to show at least one panoramic view of this gorgeous place. My great disappointment of 2013 is no plans for a motorcycle ride in the mountains this summer.

And here is a picture I shot on the fly of that archway architecture dreamed up in the 1930s.

How cool is this tunnel stuff in this jungly place?

And some lucky bastard was cruising the Parkway on two wheels....

...mind you this has been the wettest summer ever in the mountains so perhaps a Ford Fusion was exactly the right vehicle to visit the mountains this year! We had fun in any event and that's all that matters.

 

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