June 4, 2014 Kitty Hawk, North Carolina

Killing time while waiting to move into our newly found house across the street from the beach in Kill Devil Hills, we decided to mosey down to Kitty Hawk and check out the Wright brothers scene.   Wow!   My absolute favorite kind of a site!   It had:  a  beautiful memorial to the aviators, with a moving inscription honoring the brothers for their courage, quest for understanding, imagination and persistence.   Very inspiring.  

 

 

Also, the playground for children had a huge climbing model built to scale of the plane the Wright brothers flew, as well as statues in situ of the other people who were present when the brothers made their first flight.  

 

 

 

Finally, completely to scale, there was the actual monorail the brothers used to launch the flight, and granite markers showing how far the plane went on each trial.   Wow!   We couldn’t visit the inside museums because the pug boys were with

us, but we are heading back once we get settled in!  

 

 

 

 

Green arrow is the lst flight--12 seconds

Aqua arrow is the 2nd flight

Pink arrow is the 3rd flight

Yellow arrow is the 4th flight---275 yards!

 

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

June 1, 2013 Alternative Plans

The news arrived that the motorhome needs a new fuel injector pump (the most complicated part on a diesel engine----this is also a spendy item and it will take a while to arrive in LowGap, North Carolina.   Determined to keep up our spirits, I suggested we be adventurous and head for the coast----rent a house on the beach!    Amazingly, Peter agreed and we set off across North Carolina heading for the Outer Banks where I had found a house for a reasonable price right on the beach----and they were willing to take the pugs!   Our luck was changing!

     As we drove across the bridge to Hatteras Island our excitement started to build.   We had to go all the way up to the top of the island to get to the house.  As I looked at the map, I realized this might be a little remote.   It was getting late in the day (7:00 p.m.) and I hoped we could find the house in the dark.   Suddenly, the road ended and we were directed to drive onto the beach.   You know, like Long Beach, Washington.   There was a warning that I barely glanced at that ONLY 4-WHEEL DRIVE VEHICLES SHOULD VENTURE BEYOND THIS POINT.   But keeping with our family credo that warnings are for “weenies” and don’t apply to us, Peter hurled through the sand.   We arrived on the hard-packed sand safely, confirming our belief that sand and snow are pretty much the same.     Peter kept up the speed as we shot down the beach, veering off the hardpack when the water swept in.   It was pretty rough and bumpy; at one point I glanced back to see the pugs bouncing around like ping-pong balls.   They didn’t look happy.   Finally, Peter took a terrible turn, the car died and we found ourselves mired in the sand.   “What now?” I asked.   “I guess we get out and dig.”  Peter replied.  Upon opening the door, the pugs shot out.   Jaxon was shaking like a leaf.   I dutifully began digging sand out from beneath the tires only to find we were high-centered on a mini dune.   At that point some teenagers cruised by in their truck with giant tires.  They slowed down and I heard one of them say to his girlfriend, “Look at that old lady digging her car out of the sand.”  I looked around for the old lady in question. . . . . . oh!

            The next car past was a couple of nice guys who pulled us out of the sand.   Peter announced he was done with the house on the beach and, after the nice men had let a lot of air out of our tires we headed back down the beach toward civilization-----much to the pugs dismay as it was still very bumpy.  As we approached the exit from the beach and entre onto the paved road,  Peter gritted out, “Hold on!”   Once again, we became mired in the sand.   This time, there was a tow truck----the driver of which is supporting his family in a beach-front home with caviar three times a week.   He took more air out of our tires and pulled us up to the pavement---only $200.  “It’s too bad you’re not going to get to see the wild Spanish ponies.”  I understood him because he was from Tacoma.   I looked pleadingly at Peter.    “Screw the ponies! Get in the car.”    We were off.   Headed for the Travel Lodge---they take pets!   We will have a new plan by tomorrow!

May 30, 2013 Chilling in Fancy Gap, North Carolina

It looks as though we may be staying here in Fancy Gap for longer than we had planned.   Just as we headed up the last hill in North Carolina, the motorhome suddenly quit.   On the freeway. Going uphill.   Fortunately we had enough momentum to make it over to the emergency parking strip.  As giant trucks and screaming cars whizzed by Peter began troubleshooting.  Fearing an oncoming truck was set to collide with the motorhome I took the pugs and withdrew to the trees-----behind the motorhome and out of danger.    Eventually, Peter came out and suggested that I take the car and go wait for him on the next exit.   He was planning to call a tow truck using his "Good Sam" sources.  The pugs and I headed for the Hampton Inn to await his call.   After nearly an hour, during which the pugs and I enjoyed a Dairy Queen vanilla cone, the phone rang.   Peter had located a tow company and he was ready for me to come back.   I arrived before the tow truck and emptied the motorhome of
all I could----everything I might need.   Throwing things out the door minimized my time in our potential death trap.   Just as I had thrown the last of  my items into the car, the tow truck showed up.  (See picture below).

This is what it takes to pull a motorhome.   The man, who was only slightly taller than me yet weighed at least twice as much as I do, jumped down from the driver's seat.   All fear of being killed in a rear-end collision faded as I marveled at this man (who spoke to me occasionally---but I couldn't understand him).   "Nimble" is the word I would use to describe him as he wriggled under the  motorhome to hook up chains for towing and disconnected the drive train to save the automatic transmission.  He was impervious to the scream of the trucks and cars as they whizzed by just inches from his feet.   He finally emerged grease-encrusted and sweating and announced a jumble of words which Peter told me meant we were to follow him to the garage, located in Low Gap, North Carolina.  I was starting to see a pattern in the naming of the towns.
     We are now spending our days hiking the area as a team of mechanics (one of whom looks younger than my grandsons!) work on the motorhome.   Actually, I've yet to see them work.   When we visit there are scatterings of tools underneath the motorhome and inside around the engine compartment, but sightings of people working appear to be rare.   This is causing Peter to make daily visits.   Oh! and I have this weird rash on my left shoulder.    After much urging by my loved ones I went to the walk-in clinic-----in Hicksville---no!  Peter says it's Hillsville!   The doctor (who's nameplate did not say Dr.) diagnosed me with shingles!     Also my stretch on the side of the freeway in the grass---which was blooming and going to seed has caused an allergic reaction causing my eyes to swell almost shut.    No pictures of me for a while!   Tomorrow it's off to Mt. Airy---the home of Andy Griffith---and the town on which Mayberry was based!

May 27, 2013 Boone, North Carolina: Grandfathers, Children and Hikes!

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Blowing Rock Hike:  The name alone was intriguing!  A rock that blows?   A place to go on a date?  A rock that looked blowy?  As it turns out there is an old Indian legend about a young couple deeply in love.  Think Romeo and Juliet---parent issues.  Anyway, in despair the young man threw himself off the rock seen here only to be caught in the wind and carried back to his beloved.  I challenged Peter to give it a try, but he said he couldn't because he was worried about Walter.

Grandfather Mountain
This is a magnificent place.  We drove up to the parking area and then walked across the bridge in the background (Walter did NOT like that part of the hike!)  Once on top of Grandfather Mountain you have a 360 degree view of the Blue Ridge and Appalachian Mountains.  From a distance Grandfather Mountain resembles the face of an elderly man---hence the name.

Here I am in North Carolina.   It is Memorial Day Weekend and the campground is flooded with a zillion kids.    I've been thinking the South has changed---riding Marta and the buses in Atlanta on Mothers' Day, people of all walks of life and ethnicities chatted with us. What stood out for me today was the playground.   On this merry-go-round are white children, Asian children, African-American children and a Hispanic child.  They all played together for three days!  And, yes!, I did ask if I could take the picture.   By the way, no parents to be seen. 
I'm liking the "New South."

Sunday, May 19, 2012 Flowers, Waterfalls, Poets and Goats

Asheville, North Carolina is beautiful.   Green, rolling hills, lush greenery.     However, the townspeople decided to add some kick to the commute by sprinkling wildflower seeds at the interstate exit ramps.     WOW!   It is a complete delight to come round a corner and catch this view against the dark green hills.   I love it here!






Peer and I were feeling sorry for the pugs so we drove up into the mountains for a hike.   We took an easy stroll through the trees, walked along a river and eventually came to an enormous granite slab where we sat and had lunch.   It was so worth it!  Walter and Jaxon were wiped out for he rest of the day and slept like logs--not dogs!







With the  dogs still tired, Peter and I headed out to visit the Carl Sandburg home.    This is the house he moved to from Michigan.  On a visit he and his wife fell in love with this area.   He had published his huge work on the biography of Abraham Lincoln.   This house is exactly as he left it when he died.   It is frozen in time----specifically 1967.   Wow! did this man read a lot.   Every room is lined with bookshelves.   Every table is buried under National Geographic, Life Magazines, and Time.   The books have little markers for pages he wanted to remember.  So very interesting to see how someone so talented lived.    Strangely, was my thought!   It was all I could do not to start tidying up.  Apparently, he worked all night and slept all day----he didn't want to be disturbed by his wife and daughters.   With so much time on her hands his wife started a small home business----goat farming.   I must admit they are very cute!  and almost as funny as the pugs.  Ms. Sandburg made quite the living with prize-winning goats and a dairy selling milk, cheese and ice cream.      No thanks!  Too tangy.

May 16, 2013 North Carolina

We've spent the last two days at the Biltmore Estate in Asheville, North Carolina.  This house has the distinction of being the largest home in the world.   It was built by George Washington Vanderbilt, who was the youngest son of William Henry Vanderbilt.  George had vacationed with his mother in North Carolina and fell in love with the area.   Once he grew up he decided to create a grand estate in  the mountains of North Carolina.   Ostentatious? Yes.  Over-the-top? Definitely---entire ceilings imported from churches in Europe.  However, G.W. Vanderbilt provided a life and income for a whole village of people.  Houses were built to house workers who were hired from the surrounding area (although the master-builders in charge of the projects were well-known experts from around the world).   Once the estate was up and running locals were hired as gardeners, farmers, stock-men, housekeepers, dairy-workers, nannies, butlers, cooks and guides.  The estate provided a livelihood for many of the poor, uneducated North Carolinians who populated these hills prior to Vanderbilt's arrival.  It continues to provide for the entire area attracting tourists from all over the world.   There are hiking trails, biking trails, horseback riding trails, drives, canoeing, rafting, and fishing.  There is also a hotel, a spa, a winery and a small village just outside the gates with fantastic restaurants, and lots of little shops!  After two days of the good life----it's off to hike the hills tomorrow!

Atlanta, Georgia May 11-13

Our first stop in Atlanta was the Carter Presidential Library and Museum.   Feeling brave we took MARTA into the city center and then took a bus to the library---all this on Mothers' Day.  The setting for the library is beautiful and very befitting President Carter.  The thing that struck me the most was how his team turned a small, grass-roots effort into a nation-wide election.   They stayed in people's houses, they shook hands, they went door-to-door.   None of this had been done prior to Carter's campaign and he set the bar for all other campaigns to follow.  Not only has President Carter taken his grass-roots methods to the White House, he has taken them across the world.    He works tirelessly to cure very curable diseases in poverty-ridden countries.   He is very much a real person.   As is Roslyn, his wife, who admits that when he told her they were moving back to Plains, Georgia, she sulked for about a year.

 
 

Our second day was spent at Stone Mountain.   This monolith is the largest, exposed chunk of granite in the world.   It is an easy walk up the far side to the top with a terrific view of Atlanta.

In the early 1900s the Ladies Auxiliary commissioned Borglum of Mt. Rushmore fame to carve the Confederate heroes into the face of the mountain.   Many, many years later, after running through several sculptures and blowing Borglum's original work off the mountain, the carving was finished to its present state (which is nothing like the plans).


The carving depicts the three heroes of the South.  In the foreground Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederacy.  Next to him, Robert E. Lee, a brilliant general for the Confederacy.  Bringing up the rear is Stonewall Jackson  another great general of the Confederacy. 

This is the largest bas-relief carving in the world.  The parks department has a laser show on the mountain at night.  (Something we will catch in the future!)