Fireflies! and Bill . . .
June 19, 2015

I put off beginning a blog post for our trip to North Carolina because all seemed pretty much mundane.  We were doing something we’ve never done before and that is to get on our pony and ride - five straight days of Interstate highway driving, intending to get to Mom & Dad Wuehrmann’s as soon as possible - a trip devoid of our usual lollygagging, visiting and exploring.

For the first couple of days, all was routine, marked only by small occasional instances that might merit a mention.  As we pulled into Oklahoma City, though, we were still feeling fortunate: 100% chance of rain forecast overnight, but we managed to set up and get in a brisk walk just ahead of the promised storm.

Next morning - same thing - we prepared to depart after an overnight deluge but managed to get on the road during a rare dryish window and that’s when it let loose again, the like of which I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.

Onto a completely saturated landscape with all rivers and creeks completely backed out of their banks and turned into vast lakes, prodigious more amounts of rain fell.  At every turn nothing but water - water in torrents, water filling inland seas, water, water and more water. 

Notable were the seven cars and trucks that had slid off the highway and were buried axle deep in muck.  Two of them had just happened and the injured parties were being tended by EMS personnel.  A person might think that it would be advisable to slow down while driving in torrential rain, but that concept seems to escape some folks.

By the third day out, we overslept a bit, not rising until 7 - partially because we were two time zones east of home and partially because we had arrived in the land of daylight savings time, but mostly because the sun was no match for the solid cloud cover; the light differential between night and day was negligible.

Lotawatah . . .

As we passed Lake Eufalah, we saw a sign pointing to Lotawatah Road, which gave us a good laugh; there was indeed a lotawatah.

Winding up our fourth day of boogie, boogie, boogie in Newport, Tennessee, we again set up (that process includes placing a leveler under one side or the other of the trailer wheels, extending the jack stand - we’re not unhooking from the truck on the long day/short night stopovers - and cranking down four corner stabilizers and extending the slideouts), and got inside seconds ahead of yet another storm. 

More forecast for tonight and tomorrow when we will be in Asheville . . . lotawatah . . . evidently, the abundance of precipitation is all due to Bill, a tropical depression that is inundating the southern region.  We are fairly certain we could rent ourselves out as rain magnets; we have RVed through two hurricanes with “I” names and far too many tropical depressions.

Green and flowers are two results of these wet climes.

The South, Ancestors always . . .

I have had to steel myself to passing through the South at a breakneck pace.  It is my favored region and there is so much to explore and discover.  And of course there are the known and cherished areas where my ancestors lived - places where we have visited ancestral home sites and graves, places that I want to return to again and again, but this time am thinking of kinfolk with regret as we pass the places where they lived, loved and labored.

I am writing at our fourth night stop, looking forward to a not-as-long-and-arduous drive tomorrow (at least if the rain lets up) and arriving at our Hendersonville, North Carolina, destination to see Mom & Dad in nearby Tryon.

Despite the rapid pace of our drive, we still enjoy the beauty of the countryside, so unlike my beloved West that is beautiful in an entirely different way.  I get so excited when I see the first cypress swamp, and notice the magnolia trees in bloom, and delight in the magic of fireflies sparking under the trees in the dusk.

Our fourth night park is a lovely KOA.

Henrietta Lacks . . .

My task of choice as the miles disappear beneath our tires is to read aloud the story of “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”, a fascinating tale of science, social interaction and medical technology.  Thanks to Crystal, whose book it is and to Khristine for making me next in line for the loan in time for our trip.

Oh no! . . .

Words I do not want to hear from my spouse on an extended sojourn: “Guess what we forgot?”  Unfortunately, those words were uttered; the left-behind item was our eastern bird book - quite a blow in my mind.  I carely packed both pairs of binoculars, the spotting scope and the bird book that we use regularly with nary a thought to visiting a region of avian life not represented in the western book.

“Rats”, I think (worse, really), but remind myself it’s not world-ending, although important enough to us that we will buy a replacement while we are here.  We have our computer lists to tell us whether the bird in question is a life bird or not, but I do love checking in the book and reading our notations of where else we have previously spotted a bird.

So far, the few feathered friends we have seen in the rare dry moments include grackle, house sparrow, cliff swallow, robin, cardinal, turkey vulture, mocking bird, starling and a great egret that flew back & forth overhead.

Chris has adeptly manuevered the big behemoth through several cities worth of heavy rush-hour traffic.  Look ma, no rain . . .

Big game in Tennessee.

Did I mention we have new kayaks after one of our old boats sprang a leak?

Old still, old tourist

Cute