On Friday we made our way here from Raleigh, and stopped after an hour to visit the campus of Dan's old university, High Point. It really put Exeter to shame with its appearance and facilities - red brick buildings with columns and domed roofs; outdoor swimming pools with pool houses and huge cushion seats; a brand new campus arcade, with concierge service; and best of all, white rocking chairs laid out around the campus for time to relax and 'postulate'... It was certainly different to what we poor students in the UK are used to.
On we went to our lodge at Craggy View, in the heart of the mountains, which was about 10 miles from the nearest city of Asheville. We spent the evening in Asheville, which was great but also bizarre, as it exists as a throwback to the hippy era, in the middle of what is considered to be a southern state. This was great for our purposes because it has a reputation for local beer and local music. Both of these we experienced with high degrees of success, including trying local fruit beers and listening to a gypsy jazz band. Both were very original experiences, but the best part of the evening came at the end - the group split up to get taxis back, and upon arriving back first, our taxi group decided to wait in the pitch black and try to frighten the others when they got back. This backfired slightly, as Dan pretended to act like a bear, making noises and disturbances, whereupon my uncle thought the best tactic to counter a bear attack was to get into a fistfight with it. Unfortunately said bear was his son. Still, 'Mike the Bear Hunter' was born that day (my uncle, not me; same name).
The next morning we were set for a day of hiking, and drove to Chimney Rock where we walked for a few hours up to the peak of that part of the mountain, about 2500ft up. Whilst the view was spectacular, it was somewhat overshadowed by my wheezing and profuse sweating, limiting to a large degree acceptable photo opportunities for me. Despite this, it was pretty awesome to look out at the mountain region and the horizon for miles and miles. I was even emboldened by overcoming my minor unease at heights, until it was pointed out to me that there was an increased danger of 'injury and death' by straying off the paths...
That evening we stayed at the lodge, though thankfully the bear hunter was not required to jump into action.
The next morning we decided to try kayaking on Lake Lure. Unfortunately this is where the bear hunter amongst us met his match; within a minute of paddling out, his boat upturned and he arose from the lake sodden and red-faced. Although he maintains it was a deliberate ploy to show us all the importance of safety on the lake, the legend of the 'Bear Hunter' was quickly replaced with 'Drippy'.
Jack and I took a double kayak out, and frankly Jack got the short straw. Not only was it my first attempt at this, I also had a mental block with rowing in the right direction and being able to row in tandem. The result of this was that Jack ended up sodden from my technique of flailing-come-rowing, and frustrated at my inability to steer away from on-coming objects/boats/ tree branches. I had great fun though, and pictures from my disposable camera will follow at some point in the future.
Once we dried off, we decided to sit by the lake for a while and enjoy the rest of the afternoon sun. Being by the lake was opportune for photos, and we were serenaded by a bizarre mix of a guy playing the didgeridoo, and some far-off bells in the distance playing 'God Save the Queen'. If I failed to understand the south before this point, the feeling is now compounded even further.
I forgot to mention that in the morning of kayak-gate we decided to go and check out what was described as 'mountain games' (think a take on Highland games). We didn't actually get to see any of the games, but here's a photo of me in a hammock.
The evening passed with beer- related fun, and after well-earned sleep we started our last day in the mountains with an excursion to some falls in a place called Linville. Whilst not particularly notable, save for the falls that run through the mountains there, Linville was home to a disproportionate amount of churches. In fact on the drive there, we estimated we saw a church at least every couple of miles, to the degree that in some places it seemed like there were more churches than houses... Mountain folk...
The most spectacular part of the trip was what came this afternoon. I'd been really taken aback by the scenery at Chimney Rock, and I didn't think it could be beaten. However Grandfather Mountain is double the hight, and it is so high you are given a warning at the beginning about the possibility of altitude sickness. The view is incredible, but to get there you have to cross the 'mile-high' suspension bridge, which is really rickety, especially with the wind at such a height. My quip that we must now be members of the mile high club was met with unimpressed consternation.
Also at Grandfather Mountain was a bear enclosure, where we saw a brown and a black bear, both of which were captivating to watch. So much so that my phone memory is pretty much full thanks to the 50+ photos and videos I took of them... Also next to the enclosure were some bald eagles, mountain cougars and otters. I was most disappointed by the otters; I assumed they would put on a show, and although there had been rumours there was going to be a civil war re-enactment, we were met simply with the otters' unimpressed yawns. (The civil war reference was down to a sarcastic quip I made regarding the otters' inactivity. Whilst it was an insolent comment, I had just had coffee and was in the mood to be entertained).
Next up for us tomorrow is Orlando, Florida. This week in North Carolina has been amazing, and we have seen and done many things we wouldn't have been able to do normally. Special thanks to Dan, Molly and the rest of my family we've been with for being so generous, and for letting us tag along with them. Thankfully we've learnt some key skills during this trip:
- how to tackle a bear,
- how to escape a capsizing kayak
- and knowing when to demand more from an otter.
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