hanging rock state park

we hit north carolina just after a visit to South of the Border...literally. our goal was to find a campsite with a place available to rest our tired, tired selves. driving up, up, up to Hanging Rock State Park we lucked out when the camp hosts took pity on our non-reservationish selves and granted us a place under the green canopy full of bird calls from mysterious chirpers.only somewhat robotic, we moved through our by now choreographed routine for setting up camp. then we plopped ourselves down for some book reading and dinner then bed in the slightly dampish humid tent. we are so not used to this thick moisture of the south. i suppose we won't cotton to it being from a place that blasts you in the face with a hot, dry heat every summer and especially since my asthma seems to turn up its nose to the wet. we slept pretty well and even took advantage of the kooky showers in the bathhouse the next morning. after putting the tent and bedding out to dry, we ventured off for a mini hike to some rumored waterfalls.the hike was a short one, less than a mile but it was ALL DOWN HILL...down, down, down we stepped until finally we heard water. eureka, we hit the falls! a little too late in the season to expect more than what we got but it was pretty and the air smelled sweet with warmth and green.we saw a sign for another waterfall not much further around the corner and thought we'd hit that as well. so down, down, down we went for another meet and greet with some water. we hunkered down for a short while as we contemplated the steep up, up, up back to camp. oy. it was a bruiser. it may have been short but man, was it steepity steep! i survived after a weepy moment darn my asthma and we made our way back to breakdown camp.

our next stop was Virginia and the Blue Ridge Highway...whoo-hoo!

pisgah

6/10 Rockingham to Hanging Rock with a little Pisgah in between

We woke up in Rockingham, NC after a night in a lame motel. It wasn't run down or anything, just kinda lame... The wi-fi didn't work well and the promised continental breakfast was very meager. I did have the chance to go into town to find a laundromat, so with clean clothes we set off to find Hanging Rock State Park near Mt. Airy, NC. Highway 220 was mostly hemmed in by trees with little showing through so we took a couple of detours to see what was over the dense hedgerows. The rural scenery opened away from the highway and the picture above gives a good idea of what we saw repeated in endless variation. One exit from 220 pointed the way to Pisgah covered bridge... no indication of how far or what was really there just, "Pisgah that-a-way." We had to follow that one.

Ultimately it wasn't that many miles off the highway but after lots of twists in the road and three turns following tiny brown "Pisgah" signs we started to wonder if we were being fooled. Then the last sign pointed down a short gravel drive to what turned out to be a small picnic area and hiking trail along a creek, AND the promised bridge. It's just off the road and a modern bridge takes the road over the creek so Pisgah is strictly for foot traffic these days.

In addition a small sign pointed out that the bridge is far from old. What was left of the old one (even that was not original, being wood it had been rebuilt many times) had been washed away in a flood in 2003. This replica was only six years old. Alas, many visiting artists had thought it incomplete without their personal touch and the inside of the bridge was littered with the most heartfelt personal messages.

It's a nice place for a picnic and that's just what we did. The small park is some distance from the highway and a long way from the nearest town, but we had quite a bit of company while we ate lunch, and the visitors were surprisingly diverse. Some came to walk the path or have lunch and throw rocks in the creek but most just gawked at the bridge, took a picture and moved on. Hmm, I guess the small highway sign and odd name was irresistible.
It was a welcome break from the highway and I'm glad we made the detour even if the bridge is not quite a relic. Our drive continued north to Hanging Rock State Park, but that's for another post. For anyone who may wish to find Pisgah, below are some directions. Look close for the little brown signs.

From the 220 (also labeled interstate 73 and 74) south of Asheboro, NC
Turn West at Burney Rd, drive 5 mi
Turn left at Pisgah Covered Bridge Rd
take 1st right to stay on Pisgah Covered Bridge Rd, the gravel drive to the park will be on the left after about 1.5 miles.

hello chiggers!

Aaaah! We have been introduced to lots of new (to us) critters big and small as we make our way across the U.S. The one I have the least fondness for... chiggers, Trombiculidae, or harvest mites. I have great disdain for their cousins the ticks, and maybe these mites don't deserve the venom I reserve for ticks and all the disease they carry, but man I hate Chiggers right now. When we visited Memphis our hostess asked if we had yet met the chigger. No, but soon we'd have the displeasure. It's high chigger season in the south and Congaree and some of the other dampish places we camped out were teeming with 'em. For those of you who have not made their acquaintance, chiggers are small difficult to see larval mites that get on your skin from low vegetation usually in the humid late spring and early summer weather. They don't suck your blood like ticks but they do consume a bit of skin. It seems that some of the stuff that helped dissolve your skin for dinner gets left behind and that's what gives the host an often intensely itchy red bump or even a small blister or welt. They typically crawl up until they find some particularly thin skin or meet a barrier. That means itch city at the hem of your underpants or right up in'yer armpits. It was my feet that got it in Congaree. The camp area was all perpetually wet mowed grass and weeds, perfect for chiggers.

When the little itch bumps turned up in quantity a day latter we thought, "fleas?!" Then with a bit of internet research we confirmed our second hunch, "Ah, so these are chigger bites." The nasty little chicken pox like bumps were a perfect match to the pictures on the internet. I too had the incorrect assumption that chiggers burrow into your skin and suck blood. It was a relief to read that when you start to itch the chiggers are already long gone. The bumps do not contain evil little worms that will burst out later, nor is their any reason to try to "suffocate" the critters. There's nothing in there but your own skin's inflammatory reaction. When you are itchy it's too late. Grin and bare it. Now I know more about prevention, and I'll keep my pants tucked into my socks when hiking in Congaree. In addition I learned that taking an immediate shower after exposure can wash the beasties off before they get to digesting little bits of you. It seems they are slow like ticks and taking measures to get 'em off early will do a world of good. At the time I am writing this we are recovering from our l'il bumps, but the memory of the squirming desire to scratch won't fade for a while.

By the way, we have thwarted the ticks so far. In North Carolina where we camped out, there was one little bloodsucker I found waiting on the edge of the tent rain fly just above the door. That one got squashed. I hope we can keep the rest of them off. Ig, I hate ticks.

last chance to win a pstyle!

if yer thinking you need one of these sweeties leave a comment and tell us about yer most ridiculous incident in which one would have really, really come in handy. there are some GREAT stories coming in and it is gong to be crazy hard to choose. i have four to give away so we'll pick the top eight and pull names form a hat. if you don't manage to get yerself one here, please visit krista's cups and order up a round, the price is really right at $12 a pop, you may find yerself buying them for all yer friends!

south of the border

NOT down mexico way...
oh South of the Border, you held promise in your very being. i imagined a slightly downtrodden adventure with faded leftovers of your glory days and instead we found a place that was hot, hot, hot and more than downtrodden (and horrifficly un-pc). frightful really. i expected it to be bad in a b-movie kind of way i did. i shouldn't have been surprised it was seedier than a fat watermelon. yet, i am satisfied we hit ya (thanks Bob!) and i bought (too) many postcards to prove it and a plastic dancing donkey toy and a gingerale...if only i remembered to bring out the duaflex. eeps! still, it has major kitsch appeal, someone get in there and kitsch it up please!i knew we were in for it when the billboards began to appear. much like The Thing in arizona, the more signs the more yer likely to find yerself in a room with a fake two-headed turtle (not that is what The Thing is, i'm just guessing it's something sad like that).Pedro's diner is more awful than awful. if you hit South of the Border, don't eat here, just don't. do bring a camera, sure it's cheezeriffic but you can't beat large gorillas and turquoise jackalopes. oh and there are fireworks a plenty so stock on up. other than that make sure you drive (or walk) the short block over to North Carolina and capture the moment...hey, you could even stand in both states at once! South of the Border on Roadside America and Wikipedia

the place I've been thinking about for so long

6/8 Congaree National Park

About a year ago when we decided it was time to make this big trip happen and I started planning and linking together points on the map, I looked at a list of all the national parks. Quite a few national parks came up that I had never heard of or at least ever thought about because they were so far away. This trip would be the grand opportunity to see the far away special places. A mysterious name on the list, Congaree, I read was a rather new addition to the National Park system. The more I read about it the more enthused I became. Soon Congaree became my goal, my reason to spend weeks driving across the southern states. There were lots of destinations along the way and I don't mean to diminish all those experiences and flavors, but when we crossed into South Carolina I at last felt far from home and amazed that we'd come so far.
Congaree became a national park in 2003 after being a national monument for 30 years. It preserves the largest remaining stretch of old growth flood plain forest. It attracts a mad array of migrating birds and seasonal residents too. A few days before we were to arrive in South Carolina there was a flood warning in effect for the area around Congaree, and I worried that our visit would be cut off. The park normally floods at least ten times a year, but a short call to the Visitor Center assured us that the water was receding and we would only have some extra mud if we ventured off the boardwalk to the longer trails.
After pushing our way through some chaotic traffic in Columbia, SC the road turned down into the bottom land of the flood plain. The air turned cool (but no less humid and heavy) and the green took over. We passed a few houses and farms as we followed what we thought was the way to the park, heck it was called Congaree Park Road. Hmm, something was wrong. We could not get to the park and there didn't seem to be any helpful brown signs, other than the one we stumbled on that pointed the way to a canoe landing. After some fumbling with the map and some dead reckoning we at last made our way to the park entrance and the camping area. If you go, make sure to carefully follow the directions provided on the web site. Finding Congaree is not as easy as most National Parks where you start seeing the direction signs when you're still miles away.
The park was a delight. Hot and sticky, but still a delight of green, and muck, and fungus, and bird song, drippy wet growing things, and...

We saw insects to beat all; Odonates (dragonflies) that flew with a bat like flutter, and brilliant green beetles having a frenzied party on the muddy trail. The high canopy of the cypress, tupelo, and loblolly pines cast more dazzling patterns than a disco ball, and the scrabble of vines and moss completed the encyclopedia illustration of thriving bottom land forest.
Congaree at last. For me this made a fine corner stone and capped the first part of our trip. From Congaree we would wind our way North for part two; Appalachia, the big cities, New England, and Canada (or at least a little taste of it). See you there.

all the marvelous survivors

6/3
Memphis, Tennessee
Beal Street, A. Schwab, the Arcade, and to top it all off, Tops Barbecue

Sorry to back track a bit but there were so many things in Memphis that we never managed to write about, so let me take you back a week or so in our trip. The old city center of Memphis has managed, hook or by crook, to save some of its venerable old buildings even if it’s just the original brick fronts supported by girders angled up from the sidewalk.
Several of the businesses along Beal Street, the original live music center of Memphis, occupy these old brick fronts even if many of the upstairs windows open on a view of the sky. Surrounded by the music, A. Schwab, still has its doors open after more than one hundred years and offers a wild mix of new kitsch and lots of old department store stock.
From Elvis’ TCB lightning bolt logo patches to random vintage button cards, from local handmade soap to the last of the cotton slips from 1960, A. Schwab has it all.
On the mezzanine, A. Schwab adds to the charm with a Beal Street Museum collection of old bottles, ancient vending machines, lost yearbooks, and rusted toys.

Away from Beal Street but still in the old center we sampled the fare at the Arcade Restaurant.

The old city center has seen its share of troubles but the Arcade, the oldest continuously open restaurant in Memphis, has survived with its neon sign and classic diner design. mrs. a-go-go tried the sweet potato pancakes, extra tasty with lightly crisped edges and fluffy center, I had the “Memphis” roasted peppers, turkey, and cheese on a crispy roll; a crispy succulent delight. Later that day it was time for some Memphis barbecue at Tops, Sarah’s favorite sandwich chain.
While the fare at the Arcade was creative twists on classic diner plates, Tops is all about making fast food sandwiches with some local pizazz. My quick and sloppy shredded pork barbecue sandwich hit the spot like no tired old cheeseburger ever could.

Oh, and one last thing, we delighted in our visit to the Rock & Soul Museum too.
Best part... the tour is guided by a little electronic device with headphones. These guided tour things have become common at lots of museums but at the Rock and Soul Museum the potential of the little keypad was really fulfilled. Most of the galleries of the museum contained a menu of rare or unusual music tracks pertaining to that room’s display. The visitor is invited to punch the number corresponding to these songs at any time. These music tracks were the highlight of the tour, it was a real treat to hear these songs in the context of the displays.

In our short visit the city by the big river surprised me with its many facets and I know there is so much more that we missed. I hope we'll have a chance to come back someday to see, hear, and taste all of what's on the plate in Memphis.