Travelogue, Part III
Dec. 1st, 2003 10:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rsc[This is getting to be rather longer than I thought it would be. If you've lost interest, I don't blame you. Otherwise, forge ahead, behind the cut.]
Asheville, NC, is a city of about 70,000 nestled under the Blue Ridge at about 2,200 feet. It has a rather pretty downtown surrounded by the usual suburban strip-mall-sprawl. Fortunately, through the use of the Purple Roofs web site, John had found a lovely gay-owned B & B just on the edge of downtown, called the 1889 WhiteGate Inn. A fabulously-appointed place with several enormous common rooms on the first floor, a wonderfully-laid-out garden and an orchid greenhouse, and four rooms on the second floor (plus a separate "cottage", unoccupied during our stay). We stayed in the Robert Frost Room.
John had discovered that there was a contra dance in Asheville that evening, and had been trying at various times to talk me into going to it, but in the end, by the time we'd had dinner (at a very nice "bistro" downtown), it was getting kind of late, and we were tired. So I guess we'll check out North Carolina contra-dancing some other time.
One of the features of the inn is a three-course sitdown breakfast at 9:00 AM, a delightfully sociable occasion, with the more gregarious of the hosts (the chef) helping the conversation along (his much quieter partner is the gardener). Between this, and our wanting to take a stroll through the garden (although little was blooming at this time of year), and John having decided that we had to go into downtown Asheville, if for no other reason than to get him a warm hat (there was frost on the car overnight), we didn't get on the road again until about noon.
We got ourselves back on the Blue Ridge Parkway without incident, and headed north. This stretch (and indeed much of the Blue Ridge) is covered with wild rhododendrons; it must be spectacular when they're in bloom (mid-June, according to our guidebook). As it is, when we stopped at the Craggy Gardens overlook, we took a bit of the trail through what seemed like a rhododendron forest. (We were eventually able to find a side trail that led us to a place that allowed sufficient privacy to implement Robert's First Rule, since the official facilities in this region were closed for the season.) We then proceeded to the turnoff for Mount Mitchell State Park.
Mount Mitchell, at 6,684 feet, is the highest point in the US east of the Mississippi. We had been warned at the inn that the road to it might be closed by snow, but there was in fact no sign of snow or road closure. Climbing Mt. Mitchell is not an arduous process; the road ends at a parking lot 125 feet below the summit, from which there is a quarter of a mile of gravelled, stepped path to the top. An observation tower adds another 40 feet or so, and gets one above the trees (and into some very fierce wind). The views in all directions are worth the climb, and then some. Here is where I finally got some decent use out of Will's binoculars.
If we had been smart, we would have bought some portable food while we were in Asheville; despite the very substantial breakfast, we began to feel, as the afternoon wore on, that we really didn't want to go all the way to dinner time without anything to eat, and the various eating facilities along the Parkway (including the full-fledged restaurant in the Mount Mitchell visitors' center) were closed for the season. Eventually, we left the Parkway briefly at the settlement of Linville Falls and, not wanting to take the time at this point for a full restaurant meal, found a gas station with a little convenience store, where we bought some nuts and a couple of granola bars to keep us alive until dinner.
Thus refreshed, we did a little exploring of the Linville Falls scenic area, which centers on a fairly substantial waterfall. Not feeling like taking a 5-mile hike (it was getting rather late in the day in any case), we only went as far as the head of the falls -- an interesting observation point, where there's a series of rapids before the river sweeps its way into a narrow channel between high rocks and abruptly disappears over the falls. (John has pictures, I think.) By the time we returned to the car, it was well after 5:00, and showing signs of getting dark.
We had originally hoped to make it as far as Boone, where a friend known to some of you as MeanMary lives, and get together with her for coffee or something, but it now became clear that if we were not going to get into Charlotte very late indeed we had better start heading southeast. Since we had to get up quite early the next day to catch the train, we didn't want to get in really late. And of course the value of being on the Blue Ridge Parkway diminishes considerably as darkness comes on. So we abandoned it, and headed for the Interstate by way of NC route 181, which is a nice little winding road that leads down from the ridge. We had once again managed to be on the east side at sunset, but as we wound our way down we could see the remnants of a purple sky off to our right, with mountain silhouettes below it and, suspended just above, a sliver of crescent moon accompanied by brilliant Venus.
We had to take a bit of a detour (into Lincolnton, as it turned out) to find any place where we were willing to have supper, finally finding a non-fast-food-chain pizza place that was OK, although not wonderful. We made our way into downtown Charlotte around 8:00, found our hotel, checked in, found the nearby different hotel that had the Avis dropoff, ditched the car, and got back to the room with plenty of time to watch "NYPD Blue" before going to bed.
We really enjoyed our time in the mountains, and would like to return at greater leisure, and at a time of year when there's more stuff in bloom. I could see basing ourselves at the WhiteGate Inn for several days and exploring the Blue Ridge and the surrounding area in more detail.
[To be continued]
Asheville, NC, is a city of about 70,000 nestled under the Blue Ridge at about 2,200 feet. It has a rather pretty downtown surrounded by the usual suburban strip-mall-sprawl. Fortunately, through the use of the Purple Roofs web site, John had found a lovely gay-owned B & B just on the edge of downtown, called the 1889 WhiteGate Inn. A fabulously-appointed place with several enormous common rooms on the first floor, a wonderfully-laid-out garden and an orchid greenhouse, and four rooms on the second floor (plus a separate "cottage", unoccupied during our stay). We stayed in the Robert Frost Room.
John had discovered that there was a contra dance in Asheville that evening, and had been trying at various times to talk me into going to it, but in the end, by the time we'd had dinner (at a very nice "bistro" downtown), it was getting kind of late, and we were tired. So I guess we'll check out North Carolina contra-dancing some other time.
One of the features of the inn is a three-course sitdown breakfast at 9:00 AM, a delightfully sociable occasion, with the more gregarious of the hosts (the chef) helping the conversation along (his much quieter partner is the gardener). Between this, and our wanting to take a stroll through the garden (although little was blooming at this time of year), and John having decided that we had to go into downtown Asheville, if for no other reason than to get him a warm hat (there was frost on the car overnight), we didn't get on the road again until about noon.
We got ourselves back on the Blue Ridge Parkway without incident, and headed north. This stretch (and indeed much of the Blue Ridge) is covered with wild rhododendrons; it must be spectacular when they're in bloom (mid-June, according to our guidebook). As it is, when we stopped at the Craggy Gardens overlook, we took a bit of the trail through what seemed like a rhododendron forest. (We were eventually able to find a side trail that led us to a place that allowed sufficient privacy to implement Robert's First Rule, since the official facilities in this region were closed for the season.) We then proceeded to the turnoff for Mount Mitchell State Park.
Mount Mitchell, at 6,684 feet, is the highest point in the US east of the Mississippi. We had been warned at the inn that the road to it might be closed by snow, but there was in fact no sign of snow or road closure. Climbing Mt. Mitchell is not an arduous process; the road ends at a parking lot 125 feet below the summit, from which there is a quarter of a mile of gravelled, stepped path to the top. An observation tower adds another 40 feet or so, and gets one above the trees (and into some very fierce wind). The views in all directions are worth the climb, and then some. Here is where I finally got some decent use out of Will's binoculars.
If we had been smart, we would have bought some portable food while we were in Asheville; despite the very substantial breakfast, we began to feel, as the afternoon wore on, that we really didn't want to go all the way to dinner time without anything to eat, and the various eating facilities along the Parkway (including the full-fledged restaurant in the Mount Mitchell visitors' center) were closed for the season. Eventually, we left the Parkway briefly at the settlement of Linville Falls and, not wanting to take the time at this point for a full restaurant meal, found a gas station with a little convenience store, where we bought some nuts and a couple of granola bars to keep us alive until dinner.
Thus refreshed, we did a little exploring of the Linville Falls scenic area, which centers on a fairly substantial waterfall. Not feeling like taking a 5-mile hike (it was getting rather late in the day in any case), we only went as far as the head of the falls -- an interesting observation point, where there's a series of rapids before the river sweeps its way into a narrow channel between high rocks and abruptly disappears over the falls. (John has pictures, I think.) By the time we returned to the car, it was well after 5:00, and showing signs of getting dark.
We had originally hoped to make it as far as Boone, where a friend known to some of you as MeanMary lives, and get together with her for coffee or something, but it now became clear that if we were not going to get into Charlotte very late indeed we had better start heading southeast. Since we had to get up quite early the next day to catch the train, we didn't want to get in really late. And of course the value of being on the Blue Ridge Parkway diminishes considerably as darkness comes on. So we abandoned it, and headed for the Interstate by way of NC route 181, which is a nice little winding road that leads down from the ridge. We had once again managed to be on the east side at sunset, but as we wound our way down we could see the remnants of a purple sky off to our right, with mountain silhouettes below it and, suspended just above, a sliver of crescent moon accompanied by brilliant Venus.
We had to take a bit of a detour (into Lincolnton, as it turned out) to find any place where we were willing to have supper, finally finding a non-fast-food-chain pizza place that was OK, although not wonderful. We made our way into downtown Charlotte around 8:00, found our hotel, checked in, found the nearby different hotel that had the Avis dropoff, ditched the car, and got back to the room with plenty of time to watch "NYPD Blue" before going to bed.
We really enjoyed our time in the mountains, and would like to return at greater leisure, and at a time of year when there's more stuff in bloom. I could see basing ourselves at the WhiteGate Inn for several days and exploring the Blue Ridge and the surrounding area in more detail.
[To be continued]
no subject
Date: 2003-12-03 07:49 pm (UTC)i realize that i'm in no position to talk about long travelogues anyway, but i'm quite enjoying your trip report.