In which we head west and find mountains. 2020 version.

 

Night one delight.

We have made our escape to the mountains, wherein we intend to breathe deeply, see the sights, experience peace, and not kill ourselves on mountain roads.

Nearly didn't achieve that last one, just today.

Maybe that's hyperbole, maybe not, but let me just say here that if I'd been smart and gotten a prescription for some sweet sweet Ativan before this trip I might be much more sanguine (what a word!) about being the passenger in a car traversing hilly, twisty, narrow, shoulderless roads that from time to time featured only the TOPS of tall trees out the window.  These roads do not kid around.  When there's a sign that says the speed limit ahead is 15 MPH, BELIEVE IT.

Perhaps I protest too much, for here we are, still alive.  Pretty sure it's was my clutching at the armrests and hissing through clenched teeth that kept us on the road.  Poor Biff.

It takes about 6 hours to get to this far-western region of NC.  We made it in 7.  I blame the dog.

THIS DOG.

We also missed the driveway to the house about 50 times (or 2), which is very easy to do on roads that are unfamiliar and might be trying to do you in.  We at last drove to the landlord's house (right across the street, as it turns out) and got actual directions.  Hurrah - we have arrived!

Except...we then had to get back in the car and drive, as there is not phone service at the house (and the landlords had just driven off, so no help from them at this point), which is needed by the person who had the lockbox and wifi code on a PDF on his PHONE, which wouldn't download.  AHEM.  So, we rolled down to the nearby marina, where he finagled enough internet to get the document to open and we were headed to success at last.

Not long after getting packed in, the beauty of the top photo happened.  This is the view from the front of the house - we are on our own little hill, surround by others, and at night the peepers and critters sing their songs above the burble of a nearby stream while dogs who-knows-how-many-hollers-over bark the evening in.  The air gets cool, but the hot tub is warm, so we sat there in the growing dark in the mountains of western North Carolina, talking and sipping and uncoiling from a long day.

Today's been even better.  More on that later.

Tiff out.