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.
I stumbled across this cabin by filtering my Franklin, NC Airbnb search to less than $100. We’ve stayed in other “cabins” in western North Carolina, but this one is an actual cabin out in the middle of nowhere (actually in the Nantahala forest). The cabin is so remote you can’t use GPS to find it.
After a day-long drive, we got to the road to the cabin before dark. It’s a good thing we did. The mile-long driveway was steep and twisty, cut into the hillside, covered with leaves and bordered by a steep drop off. It would have been ten times harder to navigate in the dark. The first time up the hill we kept wondering, “Is this the road?” “Is this a road?” Thankfully the cabin came into view.
Previous fall destination cabins were houses in communities surrounded by woods and farms. This cabin is made from logs chinked with cement. The front porch roof is supported and fenced with tree trunks. The sleeping loft appears to be a homemade addition accessed by very steep stairs.
Of course, like most short term rental cabins, the rustic structure is furnished with many conveniences. There is a gas furnace for cooler weather, an electric range, a refrigerator, a microwave, an outdoor gas grill, a dishwasher, and a satellite dish for TV and internet. A portable AC unit and fans keep things cooler in the summertime. So you’re not really roughing it, but you feel like you are.
The front porch is lined with rocking chairs. Facing west, it’s a great place to watch the sunset over the mountains. Or you go up the hill out back to a fire pit area and look out over the valley.
The inside is furnished with a mix of antiques, mementoes, pottery, pictures, and contemporary furniture. I’ve founds games, books, toys, and puzzles in every nook and cranny. As I mentioned yesterday, there is an upright piano, painted white, in the main room. And a fold out sofa bed. I loved finding a cast iron pan to cook with along with two old-fashioned hand turn egg beaters in the kitchen drawers. The upstairs bed is smaller and squeakier than home, but so far we’ve slept great.
I’ve run across two memorial rocks engraved with birth and death dates. I’m thinking husband and father. Before they started renting it out, I’ll bet they burned wood in the fireplace. They still have lots of split logs piled up under the porch, long since retired by the current gas logs. I’ll have to message my host to find out more about the history.
I’m surprised to see so little wildlife. All I’ve seen is a few squirrels and birds. No bears. Maybe they’re already hibernating. No deer, either. They’re good at hiding.
I’ll bet not too many guests come in snowy weather, since you’d need a 4×4 to get up here.
It’s quiet, peaceful, comfortable, simple, and relaxing. We’re only minutes from friends, great hiking, quaint downtowns, coffee shops, breweries, and antique shops. Perfect for us.
On our last return trip from Dallas, we stopped for the night in Pensacola, FL after a full day of driving. I had a reservation at the Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10.
The sun was setting as I pulled into the parking lot and walked through the front door to check in. I was immediately greeted by a bubbly, cheerful woman at the front desk. I said, “I’ve got a reservation for the night” as I handed her my drivers license and credit card.
After she tapped on her computer keyboard a few times, she said, “Well, we don’t have you in our system, but I’ll bet your room is at the other Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10 in Pensacola.” She called to confirm our reservation, and I drove a few miles back to the correct location. There are two? Well, that’s confusing.
The reception at this hotel was much different. The building looked brand new and I could tell that crews were still working on the landscaping. I walked into a very nice lobby, only to find no one at the front desk. I waited for a few moments, and then started to look around. Past a display of snacks, through two doorways, I saw a woman on the phone, typing as she talked to someone. I waited a few minutes, hoping she would notice me, but she never looked up. I walked a little closer and said, “Hi!” a few times. Nothing.
Finally, the woman happened to look up, and was startled to see me. After she shuffled some papers around, she came out to check me in. She said, “Sorry, I’m deaf.” I felt bad as she explained, “I can only hear in one ear.” She was kind and checked me in, explaining that she was filling out an incident report, she was ADHD, and breakfast was from 6:30 to 9:30 in the morning.
It must be tough working the front desk all by yourself in the evening. And I’ll bet the person on duty is expected to handle a variety of tasks for not a whole lot of pay.
We had a good night and a good breakfast before we hit the road for home.
During a typical trip to Dallas to visit my son, we encounter at least four shuttle drivers. This latest trip they made my travel a pleasant experience.
The first picked us up at long-term parking and takes us to the departure terminal. We waited less than a minute for him to pull up next to our car, load our larger luggage, and learn who we’ll be flying with. With a big smile, he welcomes us onto his little bus. Without losing his cool or breaking a sweat, he negotiates airport traffic, an amazing assortment of clueless, rude, and impatient drivers clogging up the drop-off spots. He unloads all our luggage onto the curb and wishes us well on our journey.
After we land in Dallas, we grab our luggage and head to the pickup area for the car rental shuttle. All the car rental companies share one building, so there is always a crowd watching for the arrival of the big blue shuttle bus. After the driver makes sure all our bags are in the racks, he begins our trip to the rental center. On my most recent trip he welcomed us to the Dallas-Fort Worth and encouraged us to take advantage of the many things to do, like taking bull riding lessons! That got a smile from everyone on board.
On the way home, we first dropped off our rental car, and then hopped on a big blue shuttle bus that would take us to our departure terminal. Even though the sun was barely up, the driver was enthusiastic about his job and cheerfully welcomed us on board. Before pulling out, he reminded us to be sure we had all our belongings from the rental cars, from phones to chargers to luggage. But, most importantly, he reminded us to leave the car keys behind.
Once we landed and were ready to head back home, a shuttle driver picked us up to take us back to our car. After we got on board, he welcomed us back home and waited a few minutes for more passengers. None came, so he pulled our and as soon as he did, his radio alerted him to more passengers. He chuckled and said, “I was looking right at them, and they were all on their phones! But don’t worry, another shuttle will be by in a few minutes.” He then told us that some long term parking shuttles only run once an hour! He pulled up to our parking spot and put all our luggage into the back of our car.
It takes a special kind of person to deal with travelers all day long. Some are frantically trying to make a flight. Many are tired and cranky. Others have way too many bags to carry or have a bunch of kids to keep track of. These drivers get you there quickly and safely, smiling through it all.
I’m not sure if they are trained to work with people, or whether it comes naturally to them. But this last time to Texas, I noticed and appreciated (and tipped them for) all they did.
We cruised around the LBJ turnpike in the dark and sailed through security at DFW. With some time on our hands we checked the dining kiosk for breakfast places. IHOP was a five minute walk to the other end of the terminal. Two “yes” votes and we were on our way.
A very nice hostess sat us and pointed to a QR code on the table. “Oh boy,” I thought, “Here we go again.” I scanned the code and brought up the menu. Pricey selections. But the breakfast sampler included more than enough food for the two of us. I punched in my choices, added two coffees, clicked on the shopping cart, and hoped for the best. I put in my credit card info, added a tip, and I was done.
A minute later a server arrived with a pot of coffee, two cups, and silverware. “Since you’re splitting a breakfast, I’ll bring an extra plate.” Perfect. She brought out our food a few minutes later.
I entered a skeptic, and left a believer. I don’t mind interacting with a live server. I don’t mind interacting with electronics, either. As long as each gets the job done.
I did a quick search for “Things to do with kids in Dallas.” It’s boiling hot in Texas and thunderstorms are predicted for every morning and afternoon. An indoor activity for four grandchildren would be great. What about SeaQuest in Fort Worth? Not too expensive, an hour’s drive if we leave after rush hour, and the promise of an “interactive land and sea adventure.” A four-star rating on Tripadvisor. My son, now a ten year Dallas resident had never heard of it, but there were cool pictures on the website. What the heck, let’s give it a try.
The GPS took us right to the Ridgmar Mall just west of downtown Fort Worth. When we arrived about 11:30 am, the mall parking lot was all but empty. Two dozen cars and a school bus. My wife made me walk inside to make sure we were in the right place. Inside the entrance was a single sign directing, “Seaquest: on the other side of J.C. Penney.”
“This is the place,” I reported, ” “but it’s over there.” We drove to the other side of J.C. Penney where a few more cars were parked. We all hiked in through the entrance that was primarily for the 4-d movie theaters. At the top of an escalator I saw a SeaQuest sign hanging from the ceiling, and we rode to the top.
We walked into a mall that was definitely the place to be in the 1990’s. Today, however, every store as far as we could see was empty. We walked through this modern-day ghost town in what we hoped was the right direction. Number of stores open on this top level? Zero. The only open stores in the whole mall were a Dillards Clearance department store and J.C. Penney, who was desperate for shoppers. It was eerie. No stores, no people, nothing. Setting for a horror movie? I hoped not.
I looked down one level and saw it. SeaQuest Interactive Aquarium. Okay, we’re good. We headed down the escalator and into the venue. As my wife kept an eye on the kids, I told the friendly front desk person, “Two seniors and four children.” She pecked at a touch screen and asked me, “And how many tokens would you like to buy?” Tokens? Tokens. For feeding the fish and encountering the animals. Idk. “What do you recommend?” She pointed to a card on the desk. “Either eighty or 120.” Eighty tokens was $60! And I was already in for $100 admission. “Uh, just give me fifteen.” (Ten bucks) I’ll see how it goes. I can always buy more later, right?
Okay, we’re in and walk up to the first fish tank that hadn’t been cleaned in a while. Reality check. This is not SeaWorld. This is SeaQuest in the deceased Ridgmar mall. The floor is wet where we look at a school of big fish looking at us through the glass. A little gum ball machine off to the side sells fish food for one token. Ah, now I get it. They hope I’ll go through a whole bunch of tokens.
We wander past tanks of fish, sharks, sting rays, and lobster. We see otters, tortoise, kookaburra, lizards, sugar gliders, and a capybara. And at every exhibit, there is a place to buy food to feed the animals. For one token you can get a piece of fish, a bit of lettuce, some dead grubs, or some kind of reptile kibble. This is not an eco-friendly, PETA-approved, natural habitat. This is sad, depressing, and borderline abusive. Does anyone from the state of Texas come and inspect this place?
A friendly aquarium worker, holding an animal, says, “The kinkajou encounter is $25 per person or 10 tokens.” Nice – if you are raking in the upsell money at the venue. It’s all like that. Want to sit in a cage with hundreds of parakeets? Tokens. Want to feed the lizard a bite-sized piece of lettuce? Tokens. Want to sit with your feet in a tank of dead-skin eating fish? Tokens. Want to pet the Bengal cats? Tokens. I took the youngest (two- and four-year old) while she waited with the older two (eight and six) to pet the cats. When it was their turn the aquarium worker said, “Oh, sorry, the cats are on break for an hour.” What, you guys have a union?
I felt dirty when I left. This reminds me of the chameleon cage we visited in Madagascar. Nine years ago, on a mission trip, our hosts took us to a roadside chameleon zoo. It was the size of a tiny house and home to giant chameleons who grabbed insects with their tongues on command.
This could be my side hustle. I’ll buy some aquarium tanks, fill them with saltwater fish, and sell tickets (lots of tokens!) to my “interactive aquarium.”
Outside the aquarium, we found an indoor play place the grandkids enjoyed more than the paid attraction. They all got really good ice cream at a kiosk.
Going to Fort Worth? Go see the stampede. Save your money for a steak at a nice restaurant. Skip the SeaQuest interactive aquarium experience.
One man stood out in the gate area. In a sea of jeans and polos, his tailored black suit demanded a second glance. A large gold watch, light brown, two-buckle leather shoes, and coordinated pocket square completed his outfit.
Best of all, he was wearing sunglasses. He was wearing sunglasses at night waiting at the gate for a delayed flight departure.
I know there are good reasons to wear sunglasses indoors. Some eyes are very sensitive to any light. Celebrities don’t want recognition. When you wear sunglasses, people can’t tell if you are looking at them or not. Sunglasses can make you look cool.
So what’s this guy’s story? Was he accompanying another traveler, a bodyguard of some type? He could have been a preacher. Though I never dressed up to travel, some do. Was he on his way to or home from an upscale event? Did he work for the airline in an important role? Returning home from a funeral?
A well-dressed person flying early in the morning blends right in with lots of others on their way to meetings. Tonight, though, he’s one of those things that doesn’t belong. The guy next to me was wearing red and black checked pajama pants. Lots of women in yoga pants and crop tops. Plenty of people with sleeping doughnuts around their necks. Kids with backpacks almost as large as them. And this one gentleman in a black suit.
The detail that puzzles me is the backpack. I’ve got nothing against backpacks. I travel with one. But I would have expected him to be carrying some kind of leather briefcase.
When the flight finally boarded, I made my way down the aisle past his seat. He wasn’t flying first class or even in the larger seat section. Just a middle seat. I overheard him talking to the person next to him, and he mentioned real estate, residuals, and Melbourne, Florida. Just another person on their way to work.
Many people want to be noticed and remembered. A black suit is one way to make that happen.
I flew back from my son’s house in Dallas on a discount airline into Orlando. I’ve got this figured out. My only luggage is a backpack that meets the 18 x 14 x inch size for a free carry-on bag to fit under the seat. My cheap flights stay cheap.
While waiting for my zone to board the plane, I watched with amusement as the gate agent pulled several passengers aside whose bags clearly didn’t meet the free personal item criteria. Not even close.
If challenged, a passenger must fit their bag or backpack into a metal bin with specific dimensions. Many were not even close. I believe some were twice the size of a “personal” item.
One woman who failed the challenge pulled items out of her bag and laid them on a chair. Then, zipping up her bag, she successfully got it into the bin. With patience and perseverance, the agent instructed her, “Now put all that stuff in your bag and do that again.” Nice try!
I watched the distressed faces. We’re finally boarding the plane. But they were caught red-handed. They would now have to pay through the nose for their carry-on bags. They were surrounded by signs telling them to measure their bag and pay for their bags. Size bins are everywhere. They assumed none of that applied to them.
Here’s what I find interesting. All of this is intentional. I believe the airline sets me up to spend more money. (It’s always about the money, isn’t it?) They sell me a very low fare – $38 one way – to go and visit my son. Once I pay for my ticket, the game is on. Want to check a bag? Pick your own seat? Want more leg room? Want wifi on the flight? How about snacks? Priority boarding? Each will cost you a little more money. I didn’t add them all up, but if I chose them all, I might pay more than I would for a ticket on a regular airline.
I decline them all, but then the emails come. Have I changed my mind? I can still purchase these options. But each is just a little more expensive.
When it’s time to check in, I have to wade through all the options yet one more time. Just in case I have a little extra money laying around.
I’ll bet a lot of passengers ignore most of the emails, texts, and options. Then they arrive at the airport, and they’re going to pay.
It’s a clever game. I’ve lost a few rounds. But now I know how to play. I’ve won a few hands in the game of travel.
The airport (Orlando) was packed with travelers yesterday. I left extra early, never sure what traffic will be like. I got there two hours early, didn’t check a bag, and sailed through security. Plenty of time for a cup of coffee and maybe a snack.
Starbucks line
Never mind. Eighty people were lined up at the Starbucks. I’ll just sit and read a little. I walked down to Gate 7, found a seat, and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. Gate change. Gate 84.
<Sigh.> I walked back to the tram, got back to terminal A, and discovered I needed to go to B terminal. So I had to leave the secure area and go through security a second time. Give me a break.
The security going into terminal B was jam packed. Estimated wait time: one hour. I could still make the flight. I took a deep breath, picked a line, and prepared myself to wait.
And wait I did. The lines barely moved for the next 45 minutes. TSA must have been understaffed. Only three agents were checking IDs for about 500 people in line. Beyond them only one scanner was being used.
The lady ahead of me had a flight leaving about the same time as mine. She said, “There’s no way we’re going to make it.”
I said, “I think we’ve got time. Let’s be glass half-full. We could be those folks” and I nodded towards the lines that stretched a hundred feet back.
Well, we didn’t have time. I finally got through and onto the tram with five minutes to go. I don’t know how she made out, but I made it before the door closed. I put my belt back on after I sat down, grateful to be on board.
Actually, the plane waited another half-hour for passengers because of the gate change and very slow security.
Maybe that’s what hell is like. You just keep going through security over and over and over again.
Waite for it... 