Tag: North Carolina

Posted in Life

Just park wherever

Posted on by William Douthwaite

After poking around the antique store for a while, my wife and I found an outdoor table at Gracious Plates, an eatery on Main Street. It was a warmer than expected first day in Franklin, North Carolina.

I watch this Mercedes SUV slowlying and deliberately park on top of the line, occupying both spaces right in front of the restaurant. A couple who looked much older than us very slowly made their way into the restaurant. I didn’t have to say a word. My wife knew exactly what I was thinking. But I wondered out loud anyway, “Think that will be us in twenty years?”

As we ate, I watched a cement truck slowly backing in inches away from the expensive vehicle as a road crew waited to finish up some street repairs. My wife made me laugh as she said, “I’ll bet they’re sweating now!”

Maybe that’s the way you do things around here. Ten minutes later this second SUV parks in front of us making no attempt to stay in the lines.

Posted in Travel

One piece of the trail

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We finally hiked our first section of the Appalachian Trail. Only 2,188.25 miles to go.

Our November cabin in Franklin, North Carolina was a few mile from the Winding Stair – Siler Bald section of the trail. We didn’t do the whole 4.7 mile trail. With a Westie leading most of the way, we only went a mile and three quarters. A 3-1/2 mile hike made for a great fall afternoon.

The trailhead is on a highway that connects Asheville and Murphy. One you cross the highway, the trail leads through dense rhododendrons, across a trickle of water, to the start of a long uphill hike.

It’s not an especially steep grade, just steady. Most of the leaves had fallen, so I could see hundreds of yards in every direction through the trees. The only color left was the deep reds of oak trees. The leaf-covered trail is well-marked by white rectangles on successive trees.

We took our first break at Moore campground, and then went another 3/4 mile where we decided to head back downhill. From there we could see Siler Bald, another 500 feet up, where the view would be amazing. Of course we shared our water, oranges, and bars with the dog.

We only passed one other hiker the whole day. A solo hike was coming down the hill as we worked our way up. With two hiking poles, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

It’s actually harder going down. It’s tougher on the knees, and I had to pay closer attention to my steps. You can’t see all the stones and roots on the trail when it’s covered by leaves. I’m happy to report that we didn’t have anyone stumbles that day.

Without a dog in tow, we might have done the whole section. I don’t know if we’ll do the whole thing, but I’m looking forward to hiking more parts of the AT.

Posted in fun, Life, Travel

Extreme tubing at Highlands Outpost

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It’s just sliding down a hill. It’s basic, simple, and so entertaining. It’s one of the reasons we drove to Highlands Outpost on Scaly Mountain, west of Highlands, North Carolina. Along with gem mining (who doesn’t have gem mining in this area?), an alpine slide (crazy fast and fun), a BBQ restaurant (which was closed the day we were there), and trout fishing (a stocked swimming pool-sized pond), they advertised “extreme tubing.”

At a local playground, my grandchildren love sliding down the astroturf hill on a cardboard box. In the winter, we slid down my dad’s snow-covered backyard hill on saucer sleds until we were too cold and exhausted to climb up for another run. Extreme tubing? This is going to be great.

A simple hill and inflated tubes lived up to the hype. For twenty bucks you had access to the hill for an hour. At the bottom we grabbed heavy-duty five foot diameter tubes and dragged them to a conveyor belt. The conveyor belt then took us another three hundred feet up the hill. At the top of two slides, staff dipped our tubes in a soapy solution and shoved us down the slide after we hopped in.

The soapy solution and sprinklers along the way combined to make this a fast ride down the hill. The first time I went down alone, spinning the whole way. I got a little air over the three dips in the hill, before sliding to a stop at the bottom. Subsequent slides were in pairs, trios, and even four of us liked together, holding on the feet of the person behind you. The more weight, the faster the ride!

My four-year-old grandson, small enough to sit cross-legged in the tube, spun and giggled the whole way down. Inhaling as much air as I could, I screamed for an entire run in one breath. Everyone I saw was laughing by the time they reached the bottom of the hill. So basic. So simple. And so much fun!

Each round trip took about five minutes, so we each got a dozen rounds in before our time was up. With unlimited energy to burn, the grandsons would have gone all day if they could. The grown-ups enjoyed every slide, too. What a fun afternoon!

In the winter, the same tubes take you down snow-covered hills, which are probably even faster. I’ve got to come back for that.

Posted in Beauty

I didn’t expect to see the sunrise this morning

Posted on by William Douthwaite

43350742801_c739ce7199_oSomeone who didn’t think they’d live through the night might have written those words. Or someone who rarely woke before the sun was high in the sky. Or maybe someone for whom it seemed their world has come to an end.

That’s not why I wrote those words in my journal a few weeks ago. As I sat with my early morning cup of black and looked out over a series of hills stretching out into the distance, a tiny spark on the horizon caught my eye. There was no “smoke” on the Smokies this morning, giving me a rare chance to see the summer sunrise.

I watched as the painting in front of me changed before my eyes, like an artist retouching the colors on a canvas. In just a few minutes, that glint of orange grew to be the full orb on its way across the sky.

I figure I’ve actually lived through a little more than 22,500 sunrises in my life time. So I take them for granted. I never go to bed not expecting another. And I’m never disappointed. The next day always comes.

Maybe I shouldn’t take the sunrise for granted. Maybe you shouldn’t, either.

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Posted in Grace

North Carolina

Posted on by William Douthwaite

img_0051_editedWhat a blessing to get away, just for four days, and be completely cut off from email, news, telephones, and the usual rhythms of life.  We drove about 540 miles to a cabin just inside Pisgah National Forest at the base of Mt. Mitchell, which is the highest point east of the Mississippi.  We didn’t hike up to the top, but did get to Crabtree Falls, which is a stop on the Blue Ridge Parkway.  We arrived at the peak of the fall colors on Saturday.  By Tuesday, when we had to leave, we could see the colors beginning to fade and the subdued hues of winter begin to take over the landscape.

We could have easily stayed there, had we owned or bought the cabin.  What a beautiful location, location, location!  We had to drive 14 miles of sepentine switchbacks to reach the cabin, but it was worth it.  The other homes and cabins nearby were unoccupied that weekend, so we were essentiimg_0059_editedally alone.  The cabin was for sale, but a little pricey for us at $250,000.

After a day of travel, we spent one day in Asheville, wandering around some very unique bookstores and coffee shops.  Our second full day was our hike to the waterfall and some time in Burnsville.  The town is advertised as a great historic place, but isn’t much in real life.  We did eat at a pretty good Mexican restaurant there.

But the time away and spent relaxing was the best gift of all.  The guest pastor at SOTC kept everyone one their toes, but they survived and so did we.  The drive home was long, cloudy, gray, drizzly and dreary.  In a word, yuk.

The weekend, though, was all grace.  What a blessing to find, to arrive, and to enjoy such a retreat.