Now that I'm a few weeks removed from it, I can sit back and reflect a little bit with ya'll. August 14th through the 17th I spent in the Smokey Mountains of North Carolina camping for the first time ever. In my life. Ever. On Wednesday the 13th I left my car with Lesley in the morning so she could get everything packed, and she dropped me off at work. It was a beautiful overcast day, and it was cool for a change. This summer has been wicked. Humid and hot, with very little relief. There was relief this day. Work couldn't go by fast enough that day. Of course I was busting ass to get out early, or at least on time. Luckily, we had been having some slow weeks. I don't even think we had started the mini-cookie marathon at that point. We were out by 5-something, and Lesley and I were on the road with Coco. She made me drive the first leg. Probably a good idea in hindsight as I had tons of energy, and would have just fidgeted in the passenger seat for four hours. At this point in the afternoon it had started spitting rain, and I was at peace with the world. I was leaving town, soothing my gypsy blood with a girl that means the world to me. And the mountains make her smile, and when she smiles nothing could be wrong.
So, we're on the road, fast, cool, listening to something awesome on the stereo. We stop on the way up for dinner at a Chili's. We had a waiter that reminded me, somewhat, of Clarence Greenwood. That was cool. I don't think Lesley picked up on it. We had the old flying or invisibility conversation, and I started geeking out on superhero powers because I was pumped about being on vacation. I'm actually getting pretty excited just sitting here writing about it because of all the cool that is coming up. And all the heartbreak and intrigue and mystery too. (That's just to keep you reading. Cheap writer's trick.)
Back on the road with a meal in our stomachs and a large, grey tarp courtesy of the good people at Big Lots, we were well on the way. I was now a little subdued by a big mouth burger and several iced teas. Comedy on the stereo. We played some Patton Oswalt, Bill Hicks, Henry Rollins and Nick Swardson. Nick was funny. I had never heard his stuff before. The farting ghost gets me. All the way through Asheville and on towards Brevard, the rain had subsided a little. Then, the directions got all screwed up. Google Maps told us to take a left instead of a right, and suddenly there's this biblical flood coming down and we're trying to get to the campsite by 11 when the gates close. Yes, it was 11 at night, raining and woody. We were also at a higher elevation, so if we had been trying to bake brownies we would have had a tough time converting the recipe for high altitude baking. But, that wasn't a problem.
Lesley decided, with her irrefutable sense of direction, that we should go back and try right instead of left. The campsite might as well have been on the fucking road. It's just aimed at our asses, and if either of us had better eyes we would have seen it in the first place. So, we screech in and I hop out to register. Lesley walks the dog. It's raining still. The people at the gate are incredibly nice. I would have liked to stay at the gate longer, but it's been a long day at this point and I want to sleep in a tent with a wet dog.
So, we get to the campsite. This place was nice. Kind of the Marriot of camping sites. Don't listen to me though. It's still my first time, but it was pretty nice compared to the other campsite we stayed at later that trip. Clean bathrooms, nice site, good people. It's shitting rain now. It's shitting rain, and it's getting caught on the leaves and collecting and then falling on us. So, we're trying to set up a dry tent to sleep in under a waterfall. Coco is smarter than us, and she's trying to sleep in the car. She's a city dog. Luckily, the tent only takes two minutes to set up. The air mattress is blowing up (yeah, I'd love to tell you we roughed it on the gravel in sleeping bags, but... no) and we're trying to keep the sheets and bags dry. Everything gets set up, I check out the bathrooms and we tuck in for a night of listening to rain fall outside, and being cozy in a tent. Kind of perfect for my first ever night in a tent.
The next morning, Lesley wakes up and walks Coco. I get up and take a shower. Before we left I had really only slept at the house the week before we left. I hadn't taken a shower in a while, and I wasn't going to wait any longer when there was one just sitting there not being used. It was great! Like the showers at school, but timed. I had to keep pressing a button to keep the water going. After a while it got to be pretty cold standing in the morning air with soap all over. I got out, and Lesley made breakfast. Eggs, toast and tea. Pretty sweet. I think that was the last time I had hot tea. Damn. I need to get back on that.
After getting the site cleaned up and talking with our neighbors a bit, we started out for the nature center for some hike recommendations. An old man with a comforting voice told us to go see Looking Glass Falls, and also recommended a hike. The falls were cool. The water was ice cold, and people were swimming in it. Coco freaked out with all the noise and people, so Lesley left me to wander the water. I waded in and took some shots of the falls. I enjoyed the loss of feeling in my feet as I wandered the water bed. Tingly and sandy.
We left the falls for the hike that was recommended to us. Little did we know it would take a couple days and we'd have to eat Coco to stay alive. I think the guy at the nature center said it would take a few hours. I guess I didn't anticipate a few hours feeling so long being on windy, uphill trails. It felt like it took nine hours. It was beautiful the whole time. We stopped at the halfway point, and walked out on a ledge for some unleavened bread and water. We talked about how Jewish we were being. We spent a long time just looking out at the sky, the eagle's soaring and searching for their next meal, and the peaks of distant, blue mountains.
The hike down was arduous, and seemed longer than it should have. We were all pretty tired. At this point it was getting close to dinner. The sun would be setting soon, and we had to get some provisions.
We stopped at the store for some essentials: wine, sprouts, tomatoes and pasta. We got s'more ingredients, which ended up being dinner. Neither of us were hungry, and s'mores didn't involve turning on the gas stove. Before the sun went down too far, I ran up to a nearby Wal-Mart and got some chairs and Connect Four. Lesley has a thing for Connect Four and her back was bothering her, hence the chairs.
The rest of the night we spent talking about the past and what we've missed of each other over the years of off and on again friendship. The whole trip was spent doing a lot of that. I've just felt like I missed so much of her growing up and becoming this great person that she is now. And it was voluntary. With my little ten year obsession, I've always left and disappeared from her life when things looked like they might hurt too much. That's who I was. I'm not interested in being that person anymore. So, I'm soaking it all up; everything I can, happy to be back with my friend. We caught up on relationships and talked about things going on these days. It was a good night, and we ended the evening with a few rousing games of Connect Four. It was a good night. By far, my favorite of that trip.
The next day we picked up camp and headed off to Asheville to find our next campsite. We planned to see Luke that night. We would all meet up in Asheville. Lesley was trying to get in touch with an old friend, Chad, so he could meet us as well. No luck on that end, but we did have an easier time finding the campsite this time. The only problem was that the free campsites a little further down the road were much nicer. Mostly taken, but nice. We drove up and down the mountain, and all around to find one that wasn't spoken for at this late point in the evening. Finally, we came across a pull off on the side of the road. Lesley noticed it, as I was about to drive past it. I jerked the wheel, and slammed the E-break on. I ran down the path to the site, and I wish I could tell you that there was someone there and I peeled around the corner screaming and waving my arms, but it was empty. I walked back up and told her to grab the shit out of the car, and make a flag because we were claiming it. I wish I could describe just how beautiful this site was. Nestled in the crevice of two hills, it sat, dark and cool next to a large stream. Several small waterfalls dotted the stream at the edges of both fields of vision. Over the fire pit were two downed trees, creating a sort of canopy. Tall trees and lush, green leaves surrounded us. It was so peaceful. If I could build a
Tumbleweed home there, I would. Maybe someday if George Bush keeps selling off national protected land, I will.
The plan to visit Luke got sideswiped by the late hour, and the fact that my phone was totally dead. Instead we cooked pasta, and tried as hard as we could to make a fire from moss covered, wet wood. We went through a free NC map, a cardboard box, some phone books and a couple marriage licenses trying to get the thing started, and it just fizzled the whole night. Lesley's back was getting to her, so I took over on the pasta. Made way too much, and ended up feeding a mass of it to Coco the next day.
The site was beautiful, and it was a good night. Except for one thing: Banshees.
Around three in the morning (and this is coming from Lesley because it didn't wake me up, and neither did she) Lesley awakened to what she describes as a high moan on the wind. A chilling sound. Apparently, this went on for a while, but she dozed back off, not fearing for our safety. Later, about six, the noise started again, and was much closer. Lesley awoke again, and so did I this time. I can't sleep too late outdoors. Thus is the problem with camping. Aside from the early hour, this time the moaning and howling was much closer. I won't try and scare you with the details. We were scared enough. Especially seeing as we had a dog in heat in the tent with us, and soon there were footsteps outside the tent. Heavy footsteps. Something large. We just laid there staring at each other. I made sure I knew where my knife was in the tent. Eventually the noises went away, and Lesley dozed back off. I started to think about some stuff, and it began to piss me off, so I got up and went for a small walk down to the stream. I sat on the rocks and tried to get my head together for a while. Soon, the footsteps were back, and this time I didn't have a thin fabric between me and whatever it was. I turned to find a hound. It was a pretty dog, but looked worn. It was cold and wet, and it found a pile of leaves to lie down on. The two of us sat thinking about the problems of our life. I was on vacation. Moreso, I was on vacation in the mountains of North Carolina with a girl who I've loved for damn near ten years now. Why was I thinking about problems in my life? Because there are problems. And my head never shuts off, which can be a blessing and a curse. Consider yourselves lucky, drunks and drug users.
After a time, I attempted to get the dog to follow me back to the campsite. He slowly got the idea, and eventually followed me everywhere. I talked with him and gave him some loving pets and pats. He seemed a little more content. Once Lesley and Coco came out of the tent, the hound took a liking to Coco. Didn't care so much for Lesley, but what are you gonna do?
We took the name off the transponder collar the dog had on. Unfortunately, a tracking collar only works to about ten miles out. These dogs had come far. Lesley and I were going to go down the mountain and get some service to call the owner. A few sites down, we saw that there were some very similar dogs that had treed a cat. We found out that they were the same owner's dogs, and had just gotten separated. The man at the site had been watching them, and was waiting for the owner to show up. We went back to the campsite and took it down. We were going to go to our original site that had already been paid for, and was less remote in case something bad actually happened.
That day we spent on the Blue Ridge Parkway... wait. I missed something. See, now I'm too far removed. I actually just texted Lesley to remind me of the course of events. In actuality, before the banshee night, we had spent that day driving to various locations. Lesley wanted me to see this drive she loves. It was beautiful. It was everything she had said it was, but she wasn't too thrilled with it this time around. I don't know why. We drove through Hot Springs, where she and I had last spent any amount of time together before reconnecting in Raleigh these years later. We hiked up Max Patch, and looked out to the horizon. You can truly see why they are called the Great Smokey Mountains from up there. We withstood the wind and chill to have some flatbread, cheese and cucumber sauce. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the point at which I started to fuck up and get nervous about my head messing with me.
Up there, after hiking all that and doing nothing but smiling and having a good day it just seemed right to kiss Lesley. After the recent stint, it didn't seem like it might be too far off. Later, I would admit this urge to her before we drifted off to sleep, and she just smiled. And to this day I don't know if that meant, "Aw, that's cute" or "Don't do this shit now and ruin it." I fucked up again when we went to see Luke. All night I felt like something was clicking again, and I tried to hold her hand on the way back to the campsite from Brevard. I might as well have been holding the gear shift. I didn't even get a squeeze back. It's hard when you're driving in the fog of the mountains to come to terms with the fact that the one person you want in the world no longer wants you back.
So, we got back to the campsite, and I was a little peeved. Couldn't sleep. I read for a while as she slept next to me with her dog cuddled between us as a barrier to any other stupidity I might try that night. Rest assured, reader, your narrator Humble Humbert did nothing despite his irritating natural persistence, and the anger and sick emptiness had worn off by morning.
But how was the time with Luke? Amazing. His friend Lyndsay was visiting as well, so we all went out to a local spot in Brevard. The meal was excellent. Catching up was even better. I miss that kid, and I'm jealous of the life he has out in the mountains. His job seems like fun, getting to travel. He'll be down this way soon, and I look forward to seeing him again. Like I said before, either Lesley is a great actress or she was truly happy. You can see it in the eyes. I think she had a great time, and this is what gave me the confusion. Sometimes I just misread people so bad I get lost in my own fantasies. It was a great night, nonetheless.
The last day we spent with Coco at the North Carolina State Arboretum. It was a nice place. Duke Gardens is nicer. But it was fun. We had some IHOP that morning. The drive home was uneventful until the phone calls started and the problems of the world started flooding back in. My mistake thinking past decisions would make things easier.
Despite all those later issues, I had a fucking amazing time, and I miss being up there every day. I definitely need a life where I can pick up and leave often. Nothing soothes the soul like a short getaway from all we create here in civilization.
A big thank you goes out to Lesley and Coco for being my traveling buddies. Couldn't have done it without you, Lesley.
