It is an astonishingly beautiful spring day. Iris and azaleas are blooming in my yard. Take I-85 to Gastonia, NC. Exit on 74 going toward downtown from the South, you will see the sign for Crowder's Mountain on your right. The highest point on the mountain is King's Pinnacle which marked the boundary between the Cherokee and Catawba Nations. It is over 1,300 ft. From the Visitor's Center I took the Crowder's Mtn. Trail which is called "moderate" and is 2.7 miles one way.
The Pinnacle Trail is called "strenuous" and is 1.7 miles one way on a gravel road from a Linwood designation starting point.
Boofa and I traveled along and met three young men who were running up the mountain. They stopped to pet Boofa and said they were on a track and field team and were also training to do the Appalachian Trail in the summer.
We traveled on to where the trail meets the Pinnacle Trail. Memories flooded me of years ago when Jill's husband, Earl, son, Patrick, daughter, Natasha would invite us to go up the mountain with them. I remember Michael and Patrick sitting on the outlook rock on the Pinnacle where you could see all of the surrounding countryside. John and Hannah told me that they had rapelled down that rock face one summer when they went to Camp Cherokee at Kings Mtn. I decided to climb to the top. It is a very steep climb. Near the summit, you have the choice of climbing rocks or a flight of over a hundred wooden stairs, seemingly almost perpendicular. I made it up nearly to the top but could absolutely go no further at about the 80th step.
I lay down on the rocks and watched the buzzards circling above me, probably wondering if I was going to be their next meal.
After a while Boofa and I walked the three miles back to the car, drank water and ate dates. And then drove home.
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
April 2, 2012 Stonewall Jackson at Legoland
My daughters, their children and I drove to Buckhead and Phipps Mall to Legoland. Martin was doing parkour through the parking lot. On the perimeter near the entrance to Belk, he cartwheeled to the top of the four foot cement wall, looked down and saw a four story drop. Fortunately, he was able to drop back into the parking lot and we proceded into the mall.
The Legoland Discovery is new. It is Spring Break, the week before Easter and it is thronged with kids and parents and grandparents. The first room you enter is the lego facsimile of the major buildings and sites of Atlanta including the Martin Luther King house and church and the exit through Stone Mountain. Sometimes the lights dim and fireworks appear on the walls in the skies. We stand in lines to see the lego film in four-D which includes real snow and rain falling on the audience. The kids ride through the air in flying cars and we all ride in cars with guns to shoot skeletons to protect the lego princess.
While the kids are making lego race cars, I notice a strange man who is unlike the crowd of people wearing Nikes, shorts, T-shirts with words and logos, ball caps, talking on cell phones in several languages. He is tall, large boned and gaunt, wearing a long sleeved black shirt, russet brown pants with worn dusty pollen coated polished boots under his cuffs. His face is long and his hair is a dark auburn sprinkled with gray, cut just below his ears. He is holding a small boy by the hand. The child wears gold rimmed eye glasses. He is looking with wonder and astonishment at all around him. I wonder what he is thinking.
The Legoland Discovery is new. It is Spring Break, the week before Easter and it is thronged with kids and parents and grandparents. The first room you enter is the lego facsimile of the major buildings and sites of Atlanta including the Martin Luther King house and church and the exit through Stone Mountain. Sometimes the lights dim and fireworks appear on the walls in the skies. We stand in lines to see the lego film in four-D which includes real snow and rain falling on the audience. The kids ride through the air in flying cars and we all ride in cars with guns to shoot skeletons to protect the lego princess.
While the kids are making lego race cars, I notice a strange man who is unlike the crowd of people wearing Nikes, shorts, T-shirts with words and logos, ball caps, talking on cell phones in several languages. He is tall, large boned and gaunt, wearing a long sleeved black shirt, russet brown pants with worn dusty pollen coated polished boots under his cuffs. His face is long and his hair is a dark auburn sprinkled with gray, cut just below his ears. He is holding a small boy by the hand. The child wears gold rimmed eye glasses. He is looking with wonder and astonishment at all around him. I wonder what he is thinking.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
April 1, 2012 Stone Mountain, Georgia
Approaching Atlanta from I-85 North, you will see, if the weather permits, the largest unforrested granite mountain in the world. It is no wonder that it was a place for Native American meetings and ceremonies. It is a breath taking sight. Hannah, Sergay, Liza and I have driven down to visit Eleanor, her husband, Ryan and Martin and Mathew. All of us go to Community BBQ on Clairemont for lunch: pork and chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, sweet potatos and greasy
delicious french fries. We leave Decatur on Scott St, then 78 and shortly arrive at Stone Mountain.
Into the face of the mountain is carved a bas-relief sculpture of three icons of the Civil War:
Stonewall Jackson, Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis riding their horses. They hold their hats in their right hands and cover their hearts.
The mountain has been a place for visitors since the 1850's. Now there are numberous buildings with museums, auditorium, gift shop as well as many shops and entertainments at the base. We walked around the park (now owned by the State of Georgia) while Martin leaped and propelled himself over rocks and fences. He calls this activity, Parkour. We wanted to ride the bus which turns into a boat called the Duck, but we were too late in the day.
We did not walk to the top of the mountain today but Eleanor's family walked it last year. You begin at point 3 on the map to the right and follow a yellow line for a mile to the top. On the left side there is a kind of a ski lift car hauling up and down.
You can walk on a path for 5 miles around the mountain on beautiful wooded trails. There is also Stone Mountain Lake with picnicers and boaters and fishermen.
There is an incompleted trail from Stone Mountain all the way into Piedmont Park in Atlanta
delicious french fries. We leave Decatur on Scott St, then 78 and shortly arrive at Stone Mountain.
Into the face of the mountain is carved a bas-relief sculpture of three icons of the Civil War:
Stonewall Jackson, Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis riding their horses. They hold their hats in their right hands and cover their hearts.
The mountain has been a place for visitors since the 1850's. Now there are numberous buildings with museums, auditorium, gift shop as well as many shops and entertainments at the base. We walked around the park (now owned by the State of Georgia) while Martin leaped and propelled himself over rocks and fences. He calls this activity, Parkour. We wanted to ride the bus which turns into a boat called the Duck, but we were too late in the day.
We did not walk to the top of the mountain today but Eleanor's family walked it last year. You begin at point 3 on the map to the right and follow a yellow line for a mile to the top. On the left side there is a kind of a ski lift car hauling up and down.
You can walk on a path for 5 miles around the mountain on beautiful wooded trails. There is also Stone Mountain Lake with picnicers and boaters and fishermen.
There is an incompleted trail from Stone Mountain all the way into Piedmont Park in Atlanta
Friday, March 30, 2012
March 29, 2012 Glendale Shoals Greenway
Take Pine Street South from downtown Spartanburg, turn left on Country Club Rd. After a few miles, cross Glendale-Whitestone and drive directly to a few parking spaces at the old bridge, now impassable, over the spillway. If you like, you can turn left on Glendale-Whitestone, go over the bridge over Lawson's Fork Creek and take the immediate right to the Glendale Post Office and the Wofford College Goodall Environmental Studies Center. Take the trail to the right of the Center. You will walk by the creek where it tumbles over the spillway onto boulders and pools below.
I cannot pass this area without the memory of the young girl in one of my therapy groups who told of swimming with friends in these pools on a hot summer's day when one of these friends went under and drowned. In the hot weather, local people often come to splash in the pools and picnic on the rocks.
This is the site of the old Glendale Mill, which had been shut down for years when it burned down
about 15 years ago. I remember getting out of bed at four in the morning and opening the front door to the sound of a helocopter above and down the road to the right, a red sky full of flames. I grabbed my camera and ran down the road to join the crowd that had gathered to watch the old mill burn.
Now the post office is in one of the remaining buildings. Wofford College bought another still standing building for its environmental studies and SPACE developed the trail. In early spring I walk down by the creek whose banks are covered in great wild purple gardens of blooming plox.
The tall brick towers remain with five or six stories of roman arch windows now empty with the blue sky and clouds moving through them. There are two towering smoke stacks and an ancient
base of a building made out of large grey boulders, looking like the remains of a primitive prison.
Today there is an artist seated out on the rocks painting. He waves and I wave back. There are split rail fences, here and there, places for small groups to sit on tree stumps. There are grape vines behind the Goodall Center and as I walk, the constant sound of roosters crowing and dogs barking far off. The trail is short, not more than two miles, going along the creek and then circling back along a high ridge.
In the summer, there is an annual fund raiser on the bridge over the spillway with tables set formally and a jazz orchestra playing. Often there are yard sales at the Post Office. On top of the ridge on a nearby street is the Outdoor Leadership Center located in an old church. This is where Sergay, Liza and Mathew are going to go to a day camp in June and stay at my house at night.
I cannot pass this area without the memory of the young girl in one of my therapy groups who told of swimming with friends in these pools on a hot summer's day when one of these friends went under and drowned. In the hot weather, local people often come to splash in the pools and picnic on the rocks.
This is the site of the old Glendale Mill, which had been shut down for years when it burned down
about 15 years ago. I remember getting out of bed at four in the morning and opening the front door to the sound of a helocopter above and down the road to the right, a red sky full of flames. I grabbed my camera and ran down the road to join the crowd that had gathered to watch the old mill burn.
Now the post office is in one of the remaining buildings. Wofford College bought another still standing building for its environmental studies and SPACE developed the trail. In early spring I walk down by the creek whose banks are covered in great wild purple gardens of blooming plox.
The tall brick towers remain with five or six stories of roman arch windows now empty with the blue sky and clouds moving through them. There are two towering smoke stacks and an ancient
base of a building made out of large grey boulders, looking like the remains of a primitive prison.
Today there is an artist seated out on the rocks painting. He waves and I wave back. There are split rail fences, here and there, places for small groups to sit on tree stumps. There are grape vines behind the Goodall Center and as I walk, the constant sound of roosters crowing and dogs barking far off. The trail is short, not more than two miles, going along the creek and then circling back along a high ridge.
In the summer, there is an annual fund raiser on the bridge over the spillway with tables set formally and a jazz orchestra playing. Often there are yard sales at the Post Office. On top of the ridge on a nearby street is the Outdoor Leadership Center located in an old church. This is where Sergay, Liza and Mathew are going to go to a day camp in June and stay at my house at night.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
March 21, 2012 The Little Gap Trail at Dreher Island
Get off I-26 at Chapin. Take a right on St Peter's Church Rd until you get to Dreher Island Rd. You will pass country homes with many Tupelo trees in full astonishing bloom. You are still in Lexington County until you pass Buckaroo's Bar on your left and cross the Adam's Camp bridge.
Now you are in Newberry County. Keep going straight on a point of land that stretches into Lake Murray. At 11:00 am, there is a soft mist over the lake. Near the shore, it is green, covered in pollen, then clear and blue, then silver. The Visitor's Center is a tackle shop on the left. Keep going through the park, take a left onto Red Maple (on the right is Yellow Poplar). You will see a picnic shelter and rest rooms but immediately on the right is a kiosk accouncing the 2.1 mile trail. The way is covered in pine needles, leaves and fallen trees from the winter. Everywhere there are the dropped blossoms of yellow jasmine. Once I lost the trail and found the secret lunch place of a raccoon on the edge of the water with a big mound of fresh water clam shells. There is green green moss along the banks of the lake. There is the sound of woodpeckers drumming, small birds twittering, small water creatures plopping into the lake. A huge black and white water bird flies up and across the water. Again I find the trail. My car is parked under a big muscadine vine where there will be berries in the fall.
I leave the park under an azule sky full of cherry blossom clouds with the Classic Oldies radio station WRBK out of Chester playing.
Now you are in Newberry County. Keep going straight on a point of land that stretches into Lake Murray. At 11:00 am, there is a soft mist over the lake. Near the shore, it is green, covered in pollen, then clear and blue, then silver. The Visitor's Center is a tackle shop on the left. Keep going through the park, take a left onto Red Maple (on the right is Yellow Poplar). You will see a picnic shelter and rest rooms but immediately on the right is a kiosk accouncing the 2.1 mile trail. The way is covered in pine needles, leaves and fallen trees from the winter. Everywhere there are the dropped blossoms of yellow jasmine. Once I lost the trail and found the secret lunch place of a raccoon on the edge of the water with a big mound of fresh water clam shells. There is green green moss along the banks of the lake. There is the sound of woodpeckers drumming, small birds twittering, small water creatures plopping into the lake. A huge black and white water bird flies up and across the water. Again I find the trail. My car is parked under a big muscadine vine where there will be berries in the fall.
I leave the park under an azule sky full of cherry blossom clouds with the Classic Oldies radio station WRBK out of Chester playing.
March 20, 2012 Strolling from Rosewood to Assembly
Across Pinewood, down Saluda, over on Kiawah, down Edisto, across Tugaloo, down Saluda again, across Catawba, around a new Charleston like neighborhood, back on Pickens and down S. Gregg to Pinewood again on this first day of spring, Boofa and I stolled in the twilight on a cloud of aromas of flowering trees: plum, cherry, dogwood. Azaleas of all colors.
"Whan that April with his showres soote
The droughte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veine in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flowr;
When Zephyrus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye
That sleepen al the night with open ye--
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages..."
"Whan that April with his showres soote
The droughte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veine in swich licour,
Of which vertu engendred is the flowr;
When Zephyrus eek with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
The tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale fowles maken melodye
That sleepen al the night with open ye--
Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages..."
Sunday, March 18, 2012
March 17, 2012 Walking Down South Tryon Street
I parked behind the Elmwood Cemetery and walked 8 or 10 blocks to find Zoyia, Zach and Shane across from Discovery Place. Soon, Hanah, Paul, Sergay and Liza arrived, then Michael after parking the car. Everyone was wearing the green: shirts and head gear for the Charlotte St. Patrick's Day parade. I wore the shamrock pin that a my parent's minister brought from Ireland after visiting the Quigley home in County Roscommon (he also brought back from the home, an old worn pitcher with an ice skating bear emblazoned on the side-- I have that to this day in my cupboard). Down Tryon came the bag pipers, the Irish dancers with their curly locks, the radio stations blasting Irish tunes, the Storm Troopers in their white helmets but also wearing kilts, groups of golden retrievers wearing green costumes, Mastifs likewise, Pit Bull groups too, high school bands, High Step groups, Fire Trucks (also with pipers), a real leprechaun with a green coat and short pants, stockings and high heeled black shoes dancing and tipping his hat. The children got green necklaces and lots of candy.
After the parade we met John and Colleen and James at Hanah and Paul's house for a cookout and cerebration of Sergay's birthday. Paul had built a tree house in the back yard. A beautiful day in the low 80's, blooming Bradfood Pear trees, pansies, dogwoods, clover, tulips. We missed Eleanor's family.
Eirinn go brach!
After the parade we met John and Colleen and James at Hanah and Paul's house for a cookout and cerebration of Sergay's birthday. Paul had built a tree house in the back yard. A beautiful day in the low 80's, blooming Bradfood Pear trees, pansies, dogwoods, clover, tulips. We missed Eleanor's family.
Eirinn go brach!
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