Blog Archives

Detours, Doubts, and Destinations

On Saturday, October 7, 2023, we left our campground in Fancy Gap, VA heading south on the Blue Ridge Parkway through the Appalachian Mountains destined for Stone Mountain State Park just across the state line in North Carolina. We anticipated an approximate 45-minute drive followed by some fun hiking. We noted the expansive vista at Piedmont Overlook and commented on the numerous residences and rolling hills of perfectly aligned rows of very green bushes. Only later did we surmise that they were Christmas trees! We questioned the origins of flawless green meadows, aka balds, along the ridgeline some dotted with brown rolls of hay. Were the balds natural or had they been cleared? Perhaps a combination of both. 

These sights were different from our earlier drives along the southern parkway near Asheville, NC where there were no residences in sight nor open meadows as we drove through densely forested slopes rising high on one side and plunging steeply on the other. 

We were making good progress, and all was going well until we saw the sign, “Road Closed Ahead,” an ample warning for the upcoming barricade and huge “Detour” sign both decked out in bold highway orange. We followed the detour signs even as we sensed they were taking us back north instead of our intended south. Initially, the signs were clearly marked “Blue Ridge Detour South.” We entered a small town and passed a sign that simply read “Detour.” We began to doubt that decision, turned around and followed the sign driving into a residential area which seemed odd for a highway detour.

Shortly, we saw one of those portable, flashing, marque highway signs declaring “Blue Ridge Detour, No Thru Traffic” which seemed contrary to the nature of a detour. We passed it, doubted our decision because I had  seen an orange sign just beyond the directed turn. We turned around, made the right as indicated and within a block saw the orange sign detouring us back to the left. At that point we encountered an open gate – “Detour” sign on one side, “Local Use Only” on the other — and drove into a pumpkin patch. Hummm??

Pumpkins, pumpkins everywhere!

The road through the huge pumpkin field appeared to be relatively new white shale and gravel. We surmised that the highway department must have made this improvement for the detour as the other roads weaving through the pumpkin path were rutted dirt. We also saw a gray car moving ahead and below us through the terraced pumpkins which buoyed our optimism that we were on the right road. We were in awe of the pumpkin patch. As far as we could see were green vines dotted with various sizes of orange and occasionally green pumpkins. I must confess that I secretly desired to stop and pick a pumpkin but ultimately decided that would not be a wise thing to do. Ominously, the road narrowed, and we met the gray car coming back out. Not a good sign!! Momentarily, we too encountered the machinery and barricade, “Road Closed.” 

Our single lane “detour” that took us no where.

Back we went through the pumpkins to the flashing detour sign to discover that it read, “Blue Ridge Detour Ahead.” Sure enough, a couple of miles farther was yet another detour sign, again not indicating “Blue Ridge,” that took us down a winding country road. The next sign of note was “Pavement Ends Ahead” which indeed it did, leaving us driving on a narrow gravel road at times passing through trees just wide enough for the car and boasting a steep drop off to the left and a densely forested mountain side to the right. Just a bit spooky!

Already weary of the detours and the doubting, I had entered Stone Mountain into our GPS. We reached an intersection with a paved road where the GPS indicated a right turn. In the middle of the intersection turning around was the little gray car of the pumpkin patch. A barricade blocked the right turn! We spoke to the car’s lone occupant, and she, like us, was baffled and frustrated. Her comment, “Would you believe I just drove through a pumpkin patch.” We all chuckled as we shared that we had done the same. She was from Belgium and was trying to get to Asheville. The country roads and directions were foreign and confusing to us, we could only imagine her experience of them. We wished her well as she decided to turn around and go back. We chose to turn left and let the GPS recalculate a route to Stone Mountain. 

Stone Mountain, North Carolina

A 45-minute drive became two hours. Ultimately, Stone Mountain was well worth the extended trip. Stone Mountain itself was majestic and naturally beautiful. Unmarred by any elaborate carvings as seen on the perhaps better known Stone Mountain outside of Atlanta, GA. The hiking trails offered solace and some solitude. The water music, tumbling and gurgling over the creek bed rocks or gushing as it rushed over the various falls at heights of two to twelve to 200 feet, was soothing and calming in its sparkling clarity and consistency. A special delight was hearing the trees sing as they swayed and hummed in the wind. All thoughts of the detours and doubts vanished under the serene canopy of the forest.

Stone Mountain Falls Trail. Stone Mountain Falls. Widow Creek Falls.

Big Bend Gallery

DSC_0208

The gap where the Rio Grande exits the Santa Elena Canyon.

I am finally making public some of my photos from our April 2018 Big Bend Trip. Click on the first photo in each group and you can scroll through the photos in the light box.  Unfortunately, I did not upload them all at once, so you will have to view them in groups: BOQUILLAS, THE WINDOW TRAIL, SANTA ELANA CANYON, CASA GRANDE. 

I hope there is no wall built along the Rio Grande River. That is not a political statement, but an ecological statement. The land is awesome. The ecosystems both magnificent and fragile. The views are breathtaking. I can not imagine a wall on this sacred land. Take a look and enjoy!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Big Bend Gallery

DSC_0208

The gap where the Rio Grande exits the Santa Elena Canyon.

I am finally making public some of my photos from our April 2018 Big Bend Trip. Click on the first photo in each group and you can scroll through the photos in the light box.  Unfortunately, I did not upload them all at once, so you will have to view them in groups: BOQUILLAS, THE WINDOW TRAIL, SANTA ELANA CANYON, CASA GRANDE. 

I hope there is no wall built along the Rio Grande River. That is not a political statement, but an ecological statement. The land is awesome. The ecosystems both magnificent and fragile. The views are breathtaking. I can not imagine a wall on this sacred land. Take a look and enjoy!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the Moment — September 11, 2015

Rock Springs Run! I Almost Missed It!!

0924150939-00Since our arrival at Wekiwa Springs State Park in Apopka, FL my desire and intent was to kayak down the Rock Springs Run Paddle Trail, which is touted as the number one paddle trail in Central Florida. I must admit that even with my desire and intent, I felt a nagging anxiety. Yes, I felt nervous, uncertain, scared, and fearful of doing what I wanted to do. I suppose my anxiety was rooted in several things. First, I have never kayaked this particular paddle trail. I would literally be entering unknown and uncharted waters — at least for me. Second, I would be doing the paddle alone. I know, the “rules” of kayaking urge us not to go it alone, but in this instance, I have no choice. Do it alone, or don’t do it at all! Third, it is a long paddle — 8.5 miles — requiring four to five hours minimum paddle time. Fourth, Rock Springs Run is on the Wekiva River which is designated a National Wild and Scenic River. Now, I am fine with scenic. It is the “wild” that causes me pause. In this case one might translate “wild” into alligators. Also, I had been told that the current in the upper run was fairly swift, and the river was definitely not straight — lots of crooks and turns. This combination can be difficult and even treacherous. So, I was anxious. Bottom line – I was scared!

I knew that if I didn’t push through the fear and do the paddle that I would be disappointed with myself and with not getting to experience the river up close. So I shared my feelings with Lou Anne which actually made me feel better and decided that I would go to the launch point, King’s Landing, talk with the folks there about the river conditions, take a look at the water, and then make my decision. Which is exactly what I did and launched the kayak at 9:30 am. I would paddle the 8.5 miles to Wekiva Island, and Lou Anne would meet me at the take-out there at 1:00 – 1:30 pm. I set the launch location as a waypoint on my GPS, set the trip odometer, and paddled out. Still a bit anxious, but ready for the challenge!

I entered the main channel and was greeted by dense water lilies with a paddle trail snaking through their midst. There were also a couple of houses on the right — nothing wild about that. The river was wide bank-to-bank, but the water lilies made the paddling trail much narrower. This was the case intermittently throughout the trail. Toward the end of the trail these plants were blooming a colorful red and blue. When I was not traversing the lilies, the banks were lush and green with large towering oaks, palms (the short, bushy saw palmetto as well as the cabbage palm tree), and the occasional cypress. It was a jungle out there – really!!

0924151012-00 I wasn’t far into the paddle when I spotted my first alligator. It was swimming parallel to the kayak about 8-10 feet to my right. With him being in the water, it was difficult to gauge his size. Given the distance between his eyes (sometimes this is all you see of them) and his wake in the water, I guessed him to be about 4-5 feet. Sorry, no photos! For me, the right action when spotting a gator in the water is to keep moving and not do anything to draw attention to myself.   The presence of alligators in the river forced me to change my paddling patterns. I normally enjoy paddling close to the riverbanks just to get a closer look at the plants and critters. However, with the gators as often-unseen companions and with their propensity to lie quietly in the vegetation along the banks, I opted to keep my paddling path in the middle of the river. This was my first of four alligator sightings this day. All were quite similar, with the exception of one in which the gator was swimming across the river. He spotted me and went under the water. If he stayed on the same path underwater, I floated over him. My only thought was, “I hope he doesn’t come up while under me!” I moved forward with short, quick paddle strokes in hopes of not disturbing him!

About thirty minutes into the paddle, I had a definite decision to make. I came to a sign reading: King’s Landing Blue Band Turn Around. I knew that my destination was still at least eight miles down river. Yet, I launched from King’s Landing and the attendant had placed a blue band on my wrist. Does that sign apply to me? I decided it did not and continued down the river, which became much narrower with more obstructions, fallen trees or branches, in or over the water. I was paddling deeper into the jungle! As the river narrowed, the current was more noticeable, and my river trail became one crook and turn after another. The wild had now merged with the scenic! I had to pay attention and be intentional with my paddle. It became a challenge to place the paddle in the water at the right time and rudder angle to make the upcoming turn, and to make it before the current carried the kayak into the oncoming bank. I maneuvered the kayak left, then right, then right again, then left again consistently. Only once did I have to dig myself out of the bank. No, you won’t see photos of these sections of the river, as I was too busy with the paddle!

0924151030-00  I was enjoying the paddle and the challenge of the crooks, turns, and the fallen trees and branches even as I felt I was going “deeper into the jungle.” Maybe an hour to an hour and half in, I encountered an obstacle that would require much more strategy and maneuvering than any of my previous encounters. A large tree, probably 18-24 inches in trunk diameter, had fallen and was blocking the entire span of the river. I considered going to the right, but the still green branches filled the river and even lay upon the bank. The left option looked a bit more promising. The base of the tree was high enough up on the bank that with my 5’ 3” stature there was a possibility of going under the fallen trunk albeit a “duck” would be needed. This plan was complicated by the fact that the tree had fallen across another large tree trunk that obviously had been in the water much longer. The resulting trunk configuration looked like a slightly squeezed “X” lying on its side. The water level barely covered the lower cross trunk, but there was enough for me to push my kayak over it. Actually, as I started the crossing, the current pushed the kayak and me laterally over the lower trunk. Luckily, I was still in the kayak. The next step was to push and paddle the kayak along the trunks toward the bank, make a right turn at the opening, duck, and go under the upper trunk. I did it! My heart was pounding and my hands shaking, no doubt, the result of both the exertion and the fear. I must admit that there was a moment as I struggled to push and paddle the kayak up and through the opening that I thought, “Am I going to make it!”

I relaxed for a bit, basking in the excitement of having met the challenge. As the trail continued to be littered with obstacles and having encountered the large tree blockage, I suddenly recalled something I had read previous to launching to the effect that the staff of King’s Landing does a good job of keeping the Rock Springs Run free of obstacles. Hgh!   I was not experiencing a run “free of obstacles!” I then remembered, “King’s Landing Blue Band Turn Around.” Whoa! My heart was not pounding. It had been grabbed and caught tight in the vise of FEAR. Where am I? Am I lost? Should I have turned around? Do I need to turn around now? I don’t know that I can paddle two hours against this current? How will I get around that tree again?

To counter these questions, my first response was to tell myself, “Just breath, Brenda, just breath.” Is it really possible that I had turned the wrong direction? I kept visualizing a map of the river that did have a side stream; maybe I had turned down that stream. I dug in my wet sack and pulled out a simple map of the paddling trail. No, that side stream was off the lower section of the river. I was in the upper part of the river. I felt somewhat better. I then remembered that the day before when I left Wekiwa Springs for a short paddle I had set a waypoint on my GPS. I also knew that today’s paddle would take me toward Wekiwa Springs and less than a quarter of a mile from that waypoint. I pulled the GPS out. I had traveled almost three miles today already. I located the Wekiwa Springs waypoint and programed the GPS to “Go To” that waypoint. When the screen popped up, I felt a wave of relief. My current location was on the track between this morning’s King’s Landing waypoint and yesterday’s Wekiwa Springs waypoint. I was headed in the right direction! I just needed to keep paddling.

And paddle I did with even greater enjoyment and confidence. My confidence was bolstered even more when I saw the brown state park sign that read, “You are halfway.” I had reached that part of the run within the bounds of Wekiwa Springs State Park. Eventually I passed Otter, Big Buck, and Indian Mound Campsites maintained by the state park. I knew I was doing well on my time so I parked the kayak – lodged it against a tree trunk – pulled out my snacks, rested, and ate a bite of lunch consisting of an apple and mixed nuts. As I sat in the kayak, I remembered my fear and being scared about doing the run. Just think! I almost missed it! I almost missed this adventure – the alligators, the lily pads, the narrow twisting, turning river, the jungle, the heart stopping fear, the satisfaction of rising to the occasion and meeting the challenges.

I finished the run. The river widened. The jungle disappeared – so much so I had to break out the sunscreen. The lily pads returned sporting gorgeous red blooms and so thick they brushed the sides of the kayak as I maneuvered the trail. I saw another alligator or two. They kept moving and so did I. The last half hour or so I actually met some other folks making their way upstream. Not what I would want to do! I arrived at Wekiva Island around 1:30 pm pretty much on schedule feeling both very tired and very content. Lou Anne was walking down to the landing to meet me. What an adventure I had to share! Just think, I almost missed it!        September 24, 2015

THE BEACH OUTING! — September 6, 2015

We got up at 7:30 am and were off to MCC Holy Cross of Pensacola by 9:15 am. There was a good crowd at church and I enjoyed the service — praise and worship music was uplifting and the sermon was good. One we all need to hear and heed regarding taking care of our world and the earth because there is no “dealership” where we can go and purchase a replacement.

IMG_1117  After church we drove to Pensacola Beach on the Gulf Shore National Seashore. The gleaming white sands and crystal clear blue/green water still amazes me. It is so unlike our Texas Gulf – murky, brown, and stinky! We sat our chairs up on the ridge of sand just above the incoming waves and enjoyed our picnic lunch. Of course, we lathered up with sunscreen before eating. The temperature was a both/and. We were both warmed by the sun, and the truth be known it was hot, and cooled by the sea breeze. The seashore is a tease that way! It is hot, but the breeze makes it feel cooler

We went into the water and played for a while letting the waves “wash” us back to shore. I went about 100 yards out, and the water was still only hip to chest deep. In our “washing” we occasionally had to look toward the shore and find our chairs, only to realize that the waves had carried us far down the beach. The “washing” was fun, but walking against the waves to our point of origin proved to be somewhat of a workout for the old legs!

We retired to our chairs and enjoyed the vast view — 180 degrees — horizon to horizon. I listened in darkness to the consistent, rhythmic melody of the soothing rolling surf. I dug my feet into the sand and felt the warmth and cool of the gritty massage. I watched the children playing– onIMG_1125e cute little girl in particular. She looked to be about 18-20 months old and was decked out in a pink and white bathing suit topped with a matching cap. Regardless of coaxing by Mom and older brother and sister, she literally dug her heels in and absolutely refused to go into the water. If the diminishing waves caught her feet, she screamed and ran backwards.   She squealed and seemed the most content when grabbing fists full of sand and throwing it in the air. Oh, such simple delights of children!! What a joy!!

As we started back into the water, we noticed an ominous cloud behind us. A front was predicted to come through with a possibility of thunderstorms. With the winds ahead of the front the surf was up moderately and the yellow caution flags were flying. We went back into the water anyway and continued our jumping and “washing” exercise. Of course, occasionally we didn’t jump soon enough or high enough and would get blasted by the wave swell or breaking surf. This brought on episodes of spitting and sputtering and attempts to get the salt water of the mouth and eyes. That usually doesn’t wIMG_1126ork — trying to get salt sea water out of your eyes with hands wet with same is a fruitless effort. Oh, well, just endure the momentary sting and let the natural tears do their thing and all is soon well! The playing continued until we heard the roll of thunder in the distance and saw a flash of lightning.

Out of the water we came, gathered our things, and lugged them back to the car, as did many others. Dripping and gritty we prepared for the drive back to our camper trailer looking forward to a warm shower and dry clothes. Not looking forward so much to the cleanup — sand in the chairs, towels, car, etc. Why is an outing atthe beach so much fun and at the same time takes so much effort?   Ah, but that horizon to horizon vista, the rhythmic sound of the rolling surf,  the warm, cool sad between your toes, and the squeals of delighted children!! It tickles my soul and makes my spirit soar! No doubt, it is worth the effort!

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED. . .

Yesterday, Tuesday 9/16, as we left  Abilene State Park and headed north, we literally took the road less traveled. The marvels of the GPS and GoogleMaps are not lost on us as we use both as needed while on the road. We find the GPS helpful in getting from point A to point B. Once in a given area we resort to GoogleMaps, mostly me, as I tend to be the “navigator,” to actually see the map of the area and the street layout. At any rate, with both devices on and laying out a course for the day, they were “at odds.” We opted for the GPS version and headed out on what seemed the most logical and straight line of direction. I realized that the other route, though longer and more circuitous , followed the better main highway. But, the die was cast, and we went via Highways 89 and 126.

As went the road became a bit narrower and, thankfully, still paved and wide enough to accommodate two lanes of traffic with absolutely no shoulder. It would have been a thoroughly modern highway in the 1950’s. At times it felt as if we were riding a bucking bronc. Of course, pulling the travel trailer accentuates the bucking motion! Did I mention the curves? Fairly frequently the road made 90 degree curves — first to the left and then back to the right. Between those we stayed alert to the “S” highway markers. This continued for miles. When not watching the road, I was able to enjoy the country side. Lou Anne was driving. She is a “confident” driver, and I have the utmost of confidence in her driving.

Initially the landscape was washed and gullied and covered with scrub brush and miniature (by East Texas standards), gnarled oak trees. Gradually, the land began to flatten and precise rows of cotton and grains whizzed by us. Then we were into another type of farm — a wind farm. Huge wind turbines dotted the land as far as we could see. The winding road brought us “up close and personal” to the giant windmills of technology. Oh, and beneath the gleaming white of the turning windmills, the green of the cotton fields was broken by the black pumpjacks of the oil wells. rhythmically moving down and up — down to bring the black crude up. All and all, it was a conglomerate of motion — straight line, round and round, and up and down!

As I thought about all that I was seeing, I was struck with just how incredible our earth is! Within this small area the land is providing, at the very least, raw products for food and clothing. The wind is generating power for all sorts of purposes, and oil used in products to numerous to mention is being pumped from beneath the earth’s surface. Incredible indeed! Can we not say that we do live in the Garden! Regardless of one’s beliefs, thoughts, or opinions about the various creation theories — and there happens to be at least ten of them — I, for one, am of the opinion that there was, and IS, an intelligent, creative Higher Power behind it all — be it Big Bang, Creationism, Intelligent Design, etc. Again, JUST MY THOUGHTS! PS