Walking Celo

I’m not sure if it feels like summer or if it actually is summer at my wife’s sister’s place in the woods outside Asheville. We saw some signs of changing leaves in West Virginia but none here. 

Rusty and I went walking with Geeta and Bob first thing. I apparently have made a name as a walker in the thirty years I have been visiting so off we went.

There are ponds and streams and the Toe River with swimming holes and rapids and spots where Bob can sit up to his chest in invigorating mountain water. 

Celo community has increased the number of families seeking rural peace and quiet during and since the Covid epidemic and this is the sort of place where passersby wave and some children play unsupervised. 

The forest is cool and damp but it’s t-shirt weather in the shadow of Mount Mitchell the highest point east of the Mississippi. 

In Celo incomers have to apply to join the community which in the spirit of the Quaker founders has to reach consensus on the application. Neighbors know neighbors and Geeta is aware of which residents don’t like people walking through their yards. And which don’t mind. 

I have got lost here as the trails look alike and wind for miles through rhododendron forests deep in the middle of nowhere. It used to be cellphone signals didn’t penetrate but now they do and I take my phone if I plan to visit parts not known to me. I can read the map on my phone as well as I used to read paper maps. 

Rusty’s pretty good at finding his way home. His first visit was his first time out of the tropics and he stayed in the house listening to the lifters  crunching and the red leaves falling and he was scared. Now he’s an old hand. 

He doesn’t swim but he likes to rinse off in a fresh water stream from time to time and then take off running through the woods leaving me to pick my way, which I do slowly, stopping to look at the light and the trees and the plants as we go. 

West Asheville

I get sucked into camping spots far too easily. I could have stayed several more days parked next to the north fork of the Cherry River, lost in the middle of West Virginia. 

But we have what I consider a punishing pace of places to go and people to visit as our time in the US is running out. The first of October should find us trundling across Nuevo León state in Mexico if the stars align as we hope. And you can’t go abroad without seeing The Family one more time. So here we are.  

We left near noon and arrived around six and I took one toilet break while the van took one gas stop ($3:60 for regular). Layne made sandwiches in the back for lunch and we pressed on. Rusty laid on his pillow the picture of irritation at being swept away from another excellent grass patch. 

I enjoyed the winding roads, the asphalt track through narrow valleys, and these odd little red sentry boxes along the roads. I forgot my camera was in black and white mode unfortunately but these one person outhouses sat alongside the roads through the valleys. I thought perhaps they are bus stops but whatever they are we never actually saw anyone using them. 

Most of the day was an assortment of four  lane  highways,  including  free interstates, toll interstates and Federal Highway 19 winding awkwardly through valleys, around ridges and under mountains with a couple of tunnels included for good measure.  

I find myself wondering why people keep pushing belief. In the fullness of time we shall all find out what’s next, if anything, and we shall have to cope just as we have to manage right here and now. I find the thought of death invigorating as it pushes me to get things done like driving to Patagonia before I lose the ability. 

Decrepitude is all around, time passes. 

But the mountains abide! And they look good as one approaches the Blue Ridge. 

I-26 to Asheville through the Tennessee countryside up to the summit and the state line. 

And then the moochdock, a driveway, laundry services, hot showers, conversation. 

And a happy dog, that homebody Rusty who Esther be in a house than a van I think. 

Elizabeth City

When I lived in California avidly devouring sailing magazines wishing I could sail the east coast with all its inlets and islands and that magnificent waterway, I read about Elizabeth City, a place where passing sailors were treated to free docks and a warm welcome. You never got that in California! 

Up close the city docks are still there and not terribly interesting. I’ve since motored down the waterway on a friend’s boat and found it to be quite boring, freeway travel at walking speed. That’s how your dreams crumble!  But I liked arriving by van and wandering the town and that put all my youthful fantasies to rest, finally. GANNET2 put the nail into that coffin. 

We left the Outer Banks on a frosty morning with a plan to drive toward Asheville more or less. On the way I wanted to see Elizabeth City in person and Layne was amenable and Rusty had no vote, so off we went, an hour through farmland and woods. 

I wanted obviously to walk the waterfront but first we had a destination…

It’s not the winter palace though it looks like it. It’s a free museum displaying the history of people’s lives around Albemarle Sound. Museum of the Albemarle  leads you through the changes. 

The pre-European region was viewed with high approval by the Indians who discovered forests, fertile plains and convenient river highways. 

Europeans showed up and changed the map as usual. Things didn’t go well for the people they encountered. There again pirates liked this area too and they liked the wood to repair their ships and water to drink. 

But for the most part it was boring old farming and building and procreating and banking and cooking.  The usual. 

There was fishing too of course and boat building. 

It was an impressive display of artifacts and history but it was not terribly involving. We wandered and read the information boards. 

We noted the era of slavery and reconstruction, the arrival of railroads the creators and embodiment of progress and change. 

The complexity of change was not addressed.  Productivity at what price? What benefit? It seemed a bit simplistic but perhaps I was just overthinking.  

The shad boat was a local innovation. 28 feet long and invented by a local boatwright. 

Behind the museum there is an 18th century cemetery which I felt constrained from walking through by the presence of my dog. 

Rusty spent the time aboard GANNET2 and enjoyed the sun when I was back to let him out. I enjoyed the moment too, less spectacularly, reading A Most Remarkable Creature by Jonathan Meib. It’s a discussion of the peculiar characteristics of the caracara a super intelligent bird of prey found mostly in South America. I’m not an ornithologist but the natural history of South America is fascinating. 

Downtown Elizabeth City has great bones. 

Not fans of Rusty of his handler: 

Here’s the draw, public hot showers for five bucks right next to the city docks. You get two days for free on your boat but anyone can buy a shower. Even a van lifer. 

Nice views too. We sat and looked for a while. Snowbird season must be over. We saw no boats traveling.