Ruminating, Blue Ridge Parkway, Hot Springs
October 13-15, 2009

Doing a little ruminating while going down the road. We passed a tobacco field in the process of harvest and saw it being done a different way. I had noticed one crop being taken up into a tractor-pulled machine with a cage/bin up high, which seemingly then let the leaves settle back into the bottom of the trailer.

This particular field appears to have been harvested by hand with the entire stock cut off and stacked into ricks - teepee-like affairs. My guess is that method works for someone who doesn’t use the mechanical method. Perhaps they are preliminarily stacked that way in the field, then picked up in a wagon or truck for transport to the tobacco barn.

We have seen lots of old-style tobacco sheds here, but I have yet to get a photo of one, or of either type of harvest. I have no idea if those tobacco sheds are still in use. Perhaps cousin Eva will answer a bunch of my tobacco questions. I’m also wondering if it is the norm for tobacco to develop tobacco mosaic disease. The fields we have looked at appeared to have it, so I wondered if it’s standard and doesn’t actually hurt the crop.

Tomatoes are susceptible to that disease, which is why it is recommended that smokers not handle the plants without washing. It’s harmful to tomatoes, but maybe not so much to tobacco. More research required here.

We were delighted to see deer in our pasture this morning. Something evidently startled them because they bounded away to be swallowed up by the thick fog even before reaching the tree line. Afterward, the cows showed up near the fence, so Chris took Rowdy over for a look-see. One cow decided to come on over for a closer inspection, at which Rowdy laid back his ears and hissed. Pretty gutsy for someone a fraction the size of his growl’s target. The cow, of course, was entirely unimpressed.

It was a very wet leave-taking this morning - sopping leaves plastering the awning, everything soggy, but at least it wasn’t raining. We caught a glimpse of blue sky above this pervasive fog, so have hope of spotting ol’ Sol today.

It has been interesting, and trying, to publish my first blog. It has encouraged me to stay current with the trip journal because of feeling some sort of obligation to complete the blog, once begun, so that the many times I would rather have read or vegged or anything else, I wrote instead. On the down side, the blog has mostly been written while fatigued, tired or otherwise pooped, causing it to be less than optimal. That has been the most frustrating part of it to me: I have sent out some things that are scarcely proofread, much less refined, because most of it has been written in such a rush to be done with it. All in all though, it’s being great fun to know that some folks are traveling along with me and enjoying the trip - makes me feel more connected.

Sayonara spa . . .

A soggy sayonara to Hot Springs: we hooked up and drove on in rain, a situation that has been steady since we arrived at Hot Springs two days ago. We might express gratitude for these folks that North Carolina’s drought has broken; however, I would have liked it so much more if it had not done so during our visit. Now, if we could just bring the same situation to Arizona, we could probably rent ourselves out as rainmakers. When we got into the Toter, we had to laugh: it was so plastered with wet leaves that it looked as if we were doing some kind of camouflage thing.

Despite the wet, our hot mineral soaks were luscious. I purchased a book that covers the history of the springs - I think it’s called “The German Invasion of North Carolina”, kind of an odd name. I know it goes into the time the hot springs property was a German internment camp.

From staff, I learned that there have been three hotels on the place each lost to fire. Walking out the back door of the office/salon now puts a person on what was the front porch of the last inn. Next to the modern porch are the old ornate steps now leading to large ruins: an open basement with the boiler that started the conflagration and the attractive remains of brick walls, now covered with moss and vines. I am fascinated with ruins, love to think about all that transpired at that place and all the people who passed there in a different time and age - what were their thoughts, what were their lives like.

The modern setup is nothing so elaborate as the older one, just a reception area with massage room to each side in addition to the rv park across the road, some cabins and what they call suites. The rv park and cabins are down low in wonderful woods; we were parked right on the French Broad River.

The hot springs (100-104 degrees) are piped into individual jacuzzi tubs arranged on the banks of the river and Spring Creek. Each one has a wooden fence around three sides for privacy and is open to whichever waterway it sits on. There are various sizes from two-person to groups. And luckily, they have shed roofs over the top. We had a one-hour soak when we got there, another the next day, after which I had a massage and a nap and then we soaked again. A nice little 30th anniversary gift to ourselves.

We topped it off with dinner out and had a chat with a couple who have retired to Panama and were anxious to tell us about their house in the mountains, house on the beach and their house in Chicago (whence they came) which they visit for a week or so every year, also their gardener, their maid, etc., etc. Oh yes, all their houses are huge.







































We chose the Blue Ridge Parkway as our route to Hot Springs. We had previously driven a portion of the well-known highway, but were even more wowed by this particular 50 miles of it. We discovered that’s there much more opportunity for hiking, even an rv forest campground, than we had previously known. Our first time there, we did hike through forest so wondrous I can’t begin to describe it. Now I would like to come back not only to drive the entire length, but to spend extended time exploring the area.

Autumn was showing off her beauty so gaudily that I simply could not stop taking photographs. The dampness of the day contributed its part also with wraithlike wisps floating here and there in hollows and around peaks, especially at Grandfather Mountain. At one stop, we walked out to an overlook where some folks pointed out a snake just below us, so I included him in my nonstop snapping.

Appalachian roads do not lend themselves to reaching destinations in short order, so our day of driving was fairly long and tiring, thus we were happy today that we could get to Flat Rock by midday. There still was the small matter of setting up in the rain, but now later in the afternoon, it has ceased to fall even though there remains no sign of sun.

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