SOTF in Amish Land

Some time ago, I signed up for a Sisters On The Fly (SOTF) event in Amish country near Lancaster, PA. Greg had brought us to this area when the kids were small to see the Pennsylvania State Train Museum in Strasburg, about 5 miles from the SOTF campground. I remembered it being lovely country and Ruthie and I were ready to try another SOTF campout. Someone (who shall remain nameless) made a boo boo with the campground reservation and ended up booking a day late. The campground also made an error and didn't book us as I'd planned through Monday. SO we only had one full day in Pennsylvania and decided to split up the trip home and ride the Skyline Drive in Virginia. The trip ended up better than we'd planned. The White Oak Campground in Quarryville, PA was comfy and right in the heart of great things to explore. The Luray, VA Holiday KOA turned out to be one of the loveliest campsites I've visited, near the Skyline Drive and surrounded by mountain vistas.  

 SOTF events tend to involve a lot of camper decorations and unusual night lights. Also lots of party dress up. Ruthie and I don't exactly fit in with any of this, but it's been fun to watch. And of course, with COVID, we chose to miss most of the group activities. Still, we were glad to be there. We had great fun touring the countryside, finding some of the many covered bridges, enjoying the handsome old farm houses, carefully passing the horse drawn carriages and hitting enough shops to finalize Christmas. This photograph is one of our next door neighbors. The video below is a lovely display of tiny lights broadcast into the trees by another neighbor.

 

The backroad countryside in this part of Pennsylvania is beautiful. The focus is agricultural but with historical context. The covered bridges, large sturdy stone houses and barns, and the well tended fields reveal a love of land and tradition. 

 

Barned turned into a home

 

Farm Store Parking Lot

Harvest

Hotel Rooms near the Train Museum

Kitchen Kettle Shopping Village

A more interesting name than our Climax and Erect...

Our drive to Luray, VA was mostly uneventful--until we reached the Shenandoah National Park and our KOA near Luray. The park and its Skyline Drive is Virginia's Blue Ridge Parkway. We got our National Parks Passports stamped and thoroughly enjoyed their gift shop but nothing was as special as the scenic mountain drive. Our camp reservation at the KOA was equally special. I don't think I've visited a KOA as beautifully laid out or maintained. And we had mountain views for 360 degrees. A stunning full moon capped the evening. 

Skyline Drive

Luray KOA

Evening blessing

We have two days at home to prep for a 3 week junket from a fiberglass RV rally at Tybee Island, GA, through the Blue Ridge Mountains, to another fiberglass rally in Indiana. More adventures ahead!

A Weekend West

 

Crossing the New River

Thanks to very unpleasant weather and the Delta Variant, there hasn't been much out of the house activity around here and certainly not camping. When it's too muggy and hot to be outdoors, camp motivation is really low. We do have a couple of long trips booked across the next couple of months now that it's getting cooler and kids are back in school. So we decided it had been long enough we really needed another practice run. And we wanted to experiment with rethinking how we pack and what we take with us on a long haul. We agreed to meet up with a friend of Ruthie's in Boone (named after who else but explorer Daniel) and enjoy the Boone Greenway and the Moses Cone Memorial Park. 

According to traillink.com, "Boone Greenway is a hidden gem in the town of Boone, and each step traveled takes one across different settings, with nature, history and culture all on display. The trail traverses the town, winding, curving and looping as it follows the course of the New River." We saw leaves turning, fall wild flowers, deer very accustomed to people, and the first

Boone's first power plant

hydroelectric facility in the area operated by a rope-driven generator and operating until 1924. 

The morning was wonderfully mild--we'd slept with the heater on--a blissful change from most of the summer--and started out with jackets on. We saw a mother deer with her two young'uns walking along the path not scared of all the walkers, dogs and bicycles. We ended up traveling about 3 miles before deciding it was time for lunch. 

Ambling as we did

Ruthie's friend, Sarah, caught this picture of a deer enjoying the morning as much as we were.

After lunch, we were ready for more exploring. Ruthie had never visited the original Mast General Store in Valle Crusis. Versions of it are now located all across North Carolina but the original, built in 1883, is worth the incredibly winding roads to visit. It is still the local post office and coffee is available for 5cents on the honor system. In addition to clothing, shoes, toys, country decorations, cast iron cookware and other country treats, they offer over 500 varieties of old-fashioned candy.

1883 Mast General Store

Get your mail here

Nails and screws

Cozy up in the winter

From here, we headed up to the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Moses Cone Memorial Park. Moses Cone was a wealthy textile magnate, owner of Cone Mills, the world's largest denim manufacturer in it's day, and located in Greensboro. He was also an invalid and for his health, spent time in a lovely mountain top home which is now part of the National Parkway. His hobby was designing carriage trails on this estate which are still enjoyed by hikers and horseback riders. Thirty years ago, (it seems hard to say this!) Greg and I brought our horses to a stable at the park's edge. We rented a cute ski cottage on Beach Mountain nearby and spent two days riding the carriage trails. Unbeknownst at the time, we apparently brought home a daughter. I don't think I've been back in 30 years and the memories were sweet. The house is currently under renovation. It is also one of the outlets for the Southern Highlands Handcraft Guild and it was fun to see the current work of area craftsmen. 

Cone Summer Home

Cone's view of the Blue Ridge

Craft Gallery

Sarah had helped us with a lovely bonfire the night before but had obligations that carried her home. We enjoyed her company and missed her the second evening. That said, we'd walked enough we were ready for an early bedtime. We were pretty amazed at how much we'd forgotten in three months and how much more effectively we could pack when we got thoughtful and creative. We have some real miles ahead starting next week. Stay tuned. We are headed to Amish Country then down to Tybee Island, GA and a wandering loop back north before heading home. And maybe, Rte 66 after that. Fingers crossed!

Fire expert, Sarah!

 

Instead of camping...

Hotshot Eastbound by O. Winston Link

  Well, we'd planned to see the synchronous fireflies this weekend in the Great Smokies Park, but the truck and trailer are in the shop for routine maintenance, and in this age of COVID shipping delays, waiting on parts. So Ruthie and I decided to find other fun. 

Having previously mentioned Greg's infectious passion for trains, he had wonderful books of train pictures taken by O. Winston Link and others. Norfolk & Southern was the last American railroad to run steam engines. They had their own shops and had the expertise to run their engines efficiently long after others had switched to diesel, but all good things come to an end and they hired Link to document the end of steam as the last trains were converted. Link was a master of lighting, using banks of flashbulbs and planning his photographs with exact timing and a remarkable depth of detail. A collection of his works is housed in the old Norfolk & Southern station in downtown Roanoke, VA, across the tracks from the art museum, a wonderful train museum, and the restored historic market area. Ruthie, a former lab manager for Polaroid and hobbyist photographer, was familiar with none of this, so off we went.

 

Hotel Roanoke

Art Museum across the tracks

Doggie bags inside the skywalk?

Historic Market

Train yard behind the museum

What replaced steam

 

From Roanoke, we wandered the Virginia mountain backroads through communities like Burnt Chimney, where we stopped at the Boone Country Store, soaking in the scenery and checking out the local merchandise. We hit Old's Cool in Rocky Mount, VA and took a trip down memory lane. We ended up (by intention) just outside Prospect Hill, NC, in Shangri La. This really is folk art at its best. Shortly after I moved to NC back in the 1970s, I found myself living in Graham with a Volvo station wagon that could only be service in Danville, VA. I would take old NC 86, a narrow, winding, shoulderless backroad, and be delighted with this little village created by a retired tobacco farmer who spent his last years sharing his imagination in these charming buildings. Since I was sharing happy memories with Ruthie, this had to be on the list.

Boone's Country Store, Burnt Chimney

Old's Cool Rocky Mount, VA

Old's Cool Rocky Mount, VA

Plate reads "Rustee", Rocky Mount

Saw it in a theater, I'm that old...

On old NC 86

 

The day before, we'd ventured down to Concord, NC, with a new friend from Sisters On The Fly, to

The Depot at Gibson Mill

explore an extensive antique mall in a former textile Mill. The Depot at Gibson Mill is a fabulous collection of the curious, the odd and the old. We even found a sign from Pekin, NC, the home of my son Ben and his wife, Sydney, and a fabulous set of 1950s shelves only my daughter could love. We barely scratched the surface so I think we'll be back. And they have a great little café when it's time for a break.

 

The truck parts are in and should be installed tomorrow. The trailer should be ready by Monday. We will be on the road again soon. In the mean time, have fun exploring and Happy Juneteenth!
 

Ladies of the Lake

 

I joined Sisters on the Fly, the largest women's outdoor club in North America, a couple of years ago. I've made it to a couple of meet-and-greets but never got to camp with them. Their gatherings are so popular, they are often full by the time I know I'm free to go. And COVID caused me to cancel a number of events I did get in until I was vaccinated. So when I got a notice of a gathering at Poplar Point at nearby Jordan Lake, I leapt at the chance to meet other camping women in my area. Ruthie has also joined so we received our official flip flops to mark our campsite and here we are! 

Fortunately, this was an informal weekend. I came worn out from Tommy's funeral--an intimate, private affair, full of his music with nary a dry eye among the gathering of family and friends. After all that, I wasn't up for a lot of group activities, but Ruthie, Odie and I managed a couple of wooded walks. Kate Pruitt, also a new SOTF member, and our friend, Cathy, who lives nearby, joined us Saturday night for a cookout. We had so much fun catching up, we kept the evening to our own sisterhood.

The humidity  was a challenge but the woods are always healing. Ruthie and I started Saturday with

American Tobacco Trail

a walk on The American Tobacco Trail, a 22.2 mile rails to trails project traversing Chatham, Wake and Durham counties. It starts in the woods near Jordan Lake and ends up at the Durham Bulls ballpark. We only walked about a mile and a half before returning to our parking lot but we got the loveliest part of the morning and the deepest part of the woods. The photo is courtesy of caryrealestate.com.

I've camped at Jordan Lake before but never at Poplar Point. Our campground is part of a series of  camping

loops up and down the east side of the lake. Our site is up on a hill with a view of the lake through the trees. A wooded trail connects all the campgrounds and we explored it after lunch and a nap. We saw this lovely inlet crossing a bridge and enjoyed the winding trail until the humidity sent us back to our camper's AC. 

I'm not sure how enthused Odie is about the great wild. He seems to prefer the sidewalks of home. That said, he doesn't want to be left out of anything, including any chance to mark over where another dog has been or to supervise us. 

Kate, Ruthie, Cathy. My sisterhood.

Sunday morning was muggy and damp but we weren't quite ready to end the trip. On the way home, we stopped at the Jordan Lake Education State Forest. Greg and I used to take the kids on a loop trail with periodic views of the lake. Today we made a wrong turn onto a new loop of the Talking Trees trail, except the trees weren't talking. It was still beautiful and I recommend it when you are in the area. 

Home now, unpacking, cleaning and dreaming of the next trip out. 

The sky is green, and the grass is blue

 

Cathy at the Philpot Lake overlook

Dolly Parton penned these words in a love song about her world gone topsy turvy without the one she loved. The weekend before Memorial Day went topsy turvy for a friend and me as we camped at Virginia's lovely Fairy Stone Park. I've written about the park several times as I've taken Ruthie, the paddle club and my friend, Caroline, there to paddle the beautiful lakes and hunt for the legendary fairy stones. When Cathy asked me to take her someplace this spring and I learned she hadn't been, it seemed like the perfect place to take her. 

Cathy on Goblintown Creek

We did all the fun camp things--hiked the lovely woods, ate the fun camp foods we otherwise pass up, and we paddled Fairy Stone Lake up the Goblintown Creek enjoying wonderfully mild weather and anticipating the pending outburst of 17 year cicadas that had not quite arrived.

Tommy Edwards, 1945-2021

And then we got the news Saturday morning that after a short, hard battle with pancreatic cancer, bluegrass legend and husband to a dear friend, Tommy Edwards, had died.

Born the year that Bill Monroe and the Blue Grass Boys formed their band and created a new genre of country music, Tommy Edwards spent the last 50 years of his life as lead vocalist and guitar player for the North Carolina band, Bluegrass Experience. He did many other good things as well and you can read about his exemplary life (I don't say that lightly, Tommy was awarded the Order of the Long Leaf Pine the day before he died and was able to enjoy the honor of it) at a wonderful tribute published by the Chatham County Arts Council:  https://www.chathamartscouncil.org/a-tribute-to-tommy-edwards/

But Cindy, his wife, and Tommy have been personal friends as well. I met Cindy in their antique shop in Pittsboro when I first moved to town. I may have known Tommy played music but my first memories are of Tommy's jokes and Cindy's warm welcomes when we visited their store. I later opened a yarn store just up the street. The local newspaper did a series on the two of us and a local realtor as examples of women entrepreneurs in the community. As business neighbors, Cindy and I became friends, and as we discovered mutual interests and common background, the friendship grew and continued long after my store closed. 

When my husband was suddenly killed, Cindy and Tommy were there for support and to provide encouragement to my children. They took us to dinner, invited us to their home and to their beach house. They let the kids know they were cared for and watched over. There was a small cadre of men,  husbands of my girlfriends, friends of their father, and one gentleman who just heard about Greg's death and gave his help, who offered themselves as what I called "20 Minute Dads". It doesn't take much to keep a kid's spirits up and just knowing these fellas could be called upon for a bit of assistance or conversation has made a huge difference in my children's lives. My children have a cadre of good, strong and generous women around them as well, with Cindy in the lead, but in the beginning, having just lost their dad, it was the generosity of these men that provided a timely light. Sadly, Tommy is the third one of these good men my children have lost. My son told me some years back that the best thing I did for them as a parent was to share my friends with them. I could not be more grateful than to have these good friends to share.

While everyone knew Tommy from his music and the stage, what many folks don't know is the role of anchor that Cindy has played through their 43 year marriage. She was the place of peace he came home to after playing Mr. Bluegrass for his fans. She has been his bookkeeper, his social media manager, and the deepest love of his life. His exuberance on the stage has been made possible by the sanctuary of his home and the hard work of his teammate there. I don't think I understood the depth of their reliance on each other until I called their home right after Cindy had experienced a health crisis. It's the only time I ever knew Tommy unable to make a joke. Tommy always let her know how much he appreciated her and their relationship. Cindy told me recently that even during the last days when he faced so much pain, he made a point of saying the sweet things that had always wooed her. There must be a special place in heaven for these good men and I trust he and Greg are there now trading fun and singing. 

There have been many wonderful tributes paid to Tommy, and I expect there will be more. I know Cindy appreciates the recognition and memories. I hope, along with all the good memories shared, she's wrapped up in love and support as well. For now, the sky is green. That will pass. But I suspect the grass will always be blue.