The Mountains

I have such beautiful memories of our semi-annual visits to the mountains. I'm old enough to remember people feeding the black bears on the side of the road (OK - not such a great idea - but it does provide a unique memory). My dad had his favorite stops - Bridal Veil Falls, Grandfather Mountain - and we almost always went at least to Cherokee and sometimes on to Gatlinburg. I have to say I'm a little sad when I see what Gatlinburg has become. 

At any rate, our breakfasts were cold cereal in the motel room and lunches usually consisted of pimento cheese sandwiches and little cans of Donald Duck brand orange juice and apple juice, eaten by a gentle mountain stream. I delighted in the names of places on the Blue Ridge Parkway; around every turn was another knob, gorge, cove or gap.

One year it snowed in the mountains while we were there and Bridal Veil Falls created a little patch of ice that we enjoyed sliding around on. For Sea Island kids who went on the trip with beach sand in our shoes, a little snow and ice was the most exciting thing that happened to us all year!

The highlight of every trip was driving through Bat Cave where we were allowed to roll down the car windows and yell to hear our voices echo. This was accompanied by my dad honking his car horn. And, of course, every valley we passed prompted a discussion about whether or not that particular valley was the home of the Jolly Green Giant.

One year the Hipp family graciously offered us the use of their cabin. I will only say this - I have never been so cold in my entire life. I was so excited to get in the warm car the next morning that the relief of it has become a memory permanently etched in my mind.

This postcard I found reminds me so much of that little cabin.

I was always a little sad to leave and go back to our home at sea level. After being in the mountains, our Sea Island home seemed so flat and sandy. Of course, I wouldn't trade my Sea Island home for love nor money, but the mountains.....ah, the mountains......