The Blue Ridge Parkway is known as America’s favorite drive and no wonder. It is a stunning piece of creation.

We have learned that work on the 469 mile Blue Ridge Parkway began in 1935 at Cumberland Knob, near the North Carolina and Virginia border. The Blue Ridge Parkway was part of the Good Roads movement which began in the late 19th century.  The essence of a good road is a road that does not fight the mountains. This road clings, winds and weave along in as natural a manner possible. It surely is a good road. It does not fight the landscape, but rather follows  every twist and turn, every ascend and descend. The parkway never seems an intruder among these mountains. The Blue Ridge Parkway is one road then kept his promises, lived up to the idea behind it. This Parkway is the showcase of the Appalachian Mountains and the most visited national park in America.

The scenic highway was started in 1935 as a Works Progress Administration project during the Great Depression. Arnie recalls that his Dad worked for a time on a CCC project as many of the men did during that era just to support their families. Mr. Jaquith worked building trails and AMC huts in the White Mountains National Forest in New Hampshire, specifically in the presidential mountain range in Northern New Hampshire.  He was doing this at about the same time that this Parkway was being built. This road  runs along the spine of the highest peaks in the Blue Ridge and Great Smoky Mountain chain.

As you might imagine, it offers some of the most spectacular scenery in the country. About 35 miles of this National Scenic Highway wanders through the twin counties. One thing that we loved about this drive is that the parkway was built to blend in with its natural surroundings. Instead of steel guard rail, you will find only picturesque stone walls: overpasses are stone as well. There are countless scenic overlooks. along the 469 mile highway so you can pull off and enjoy mountain views at your leisure.  The speed limit is 45 miles per hour and sometimes slower as the highway curves across in and up and up and down the rugged mountains. The slower pace allowed opportunity for us to really absorb and reflect on the beauty and history. It’s also a safer pace for the winding Mountain Road. A bonus was that there is no commercial traffic allowed, so we were not holding our breath that a large vehicle would round the bend.

Anyone who has taken a drive with us will attest that we are often distracted from the original plan and follow our noses to discover new places. This happened as we were driving the Blue Ridge Parkway. We decided to take a slight detour and go explore the quaint town of Mount Airy, North Carolina. And, as luck would have it, an opportunity arose. We saw a tour company that takes folks around to see the highlights in replica Barney Fife style squad cars. Having all of the animals with us made taking a tour out of the questions so we did the next best thing………we followed the squad car tour around town! It worked out really well even though they might not have appreciated the “tail”. It also saved us a bundle, I’m sure. Here are a few of the highlights:

Mount Airy is a charming downtown with all sorts of shops to tempt the tourist. We shared a jumbo blueberry muffin at a great bakery that also sold peanut butter cookies for the dogs. We all appreciated the snack before we drove back to the Parkway. Going back, Arnie took a route that we were not too sure of and despite my anxiety over adequate gas, diminishing daylight and ever getting home again, we did finally emerge from the hill country. So what if it was in double the time it would have taken if we had gone the major route! We saw farmsteads, old homesteads, stunning country views,etc that we never could have found on the main roads. I am learing to relax when the GPS doesn’t function, there’s no cell service and most of all, no bathroom. I’m learning to relax, but I have a long way to go! Ask Arnie!

If it’s music you want, just follow The Crooked Road to Galax, Virginia. The Crooked Road is the name you’ll find on signs along the route of Virginia’s heritage music trail, a driving route through Southwest Virginia. It is right in the heart and home of traditional string music that dates back to settlers and beyond. Here you can find music any day of the week in all seasons, whether it’s live radio shows, jam sessions, square dancers, fiddlers conventions and festivals. The Crooked Road………..and it is very crooked…………has many venues such as the Blue Ridge Music Center, the historic Rex Theater, the Galax Old Fiddlers Convention, the Wayne Henderson Music Festival and Guitar Competition, and other fairs and festivals where live music can be heard. There is a jam session somewhere just about any night you ready to listen. In a jam session people who play fiddle, guitars, banjos and other stringed instruments as a hobby get together just to share the joy of picking. They welcome listeners and are happy to talk with visitors. Jams are usually free, some accept donations for the upkeep of their host site. On this trip, we are attempting to visit as many venues along The Crooked Road as we can and meet as many interesting people as possible.

Scattered around Galax is a musical scavenger hunt that encourages visitors to explore all that the city has to offer and find 12 colorfully painted fiddles. Artists are invited to participate by submitting decorated fiberglass panels, which were placed around the city in public places. Students decorated a fiddle, and another was a community effort.

We enjoyed casually walking the streets of Galax, enjoying the small town atmosphere that we can so seldom find in Florida. There are many antique shops and small independent stores. We particularly enjoyed stopping by Willow’s Star, Herb and Holistic Health Shop. You can see their Facebook page at Facebook@Willow’s Star of their website at http://www.willowsstar.com . Here you can purchase dried herbs, salves and even a love potion. We bought some wonderful cedar incense to help the camper smell less like small wet dog and more like the great outdoors!

   A highlight of our visit to Galax was getting a tour of the Chestnut Creek School of the Arts. All of the visual and performance arts are taught here and an outreach to the schools ensures that the children are exposed to opportunities to learn traditional music of the area. The school is endowed, does some fundraising and operates also on grants. It is a critical force for cultural preservation. We were grateful to stop in at a quiet time and be able to chat with the school’s director and to see the facilities.

Galax has been our go to town for basic amenities while we are here. The necessities of life don’t go away no matter where you park yourself. We have frequented the laundromat, the supermarket, the drug store and the diner. Without fail, we have been impressed with the warm and welcoming spirit of the people of this region. As we begin preparations to pack up and move on to the Great Smokey National Park tomorrow, we thank them for their hospitality and the immersion in Appalachian music that they offered to us during our stay here in Fries. It has been both educational and inspirational.

Someone asked me if we had lost our minds yet, traveling in a small space with all of the animals. I do admit that traveling in an RV with animals calls us to a higher consciousness in many ways. We have to plan well for their needs and be sure that they are safe and comfortable along the journey. In the case of two of our pets, we have to account for other factors also.

Hana, the introvert,  has a fragile sense of herself and is easily startled and intimidated by strange situations. She has an inborn disdain for adventure and is markedly repulsed by her current living conditions; namely a camper. Our dear friend Judi gave us a beautiful blue comforter that has a luxurious silky feel to it. It fits our camper bed just right and matches the blue color scheme. (Doesn’t everyone need a color scheme in a camper?) Most importantly, Hana has determined that this is the one place in the space that is up to her standards. She can usually be found lying on her silky throne with her paws crossed demurely and her pug snout in the air. If you speak to her she looks away like a snotty teenager with a superior attitude. Her aversion to camping life has brought us a lot of laughs. She reminds us to slow down and move with grace within a small space so that we do not upset her apple cart and so that we truly enjoy and appreciate what we have.

Wicca, the extrovert,  on the other hand, is at home in her own skin in any situation. Wherever she goes, there she is. She makes friends of all people without prejudice, wagging a warm welcome to anyone who will meet her eye. She is hospitality personified and draws people to our campsite with her enthusiasm for meeting new souls. By the second day here, Wicca had made friends with the fellow who drives the park for security and he picks her up regularly to go on patrol with him. There is no doubt that Wicca knows more people here than we do!

These two exact opposites remind us that there is a place for both the introverts and the extroverts of our world and that both personalities are to be valued for what they contribute to the circle. And then we have, Cracker, our African Gray. Where would Cracker fall on the Meyers-Briggs scale? He is neither a true introvert or a clear extrovert. He is an amalgamation of idiosyncracies that make him just a unique personality. He, like Hana, prefers a set routine and does not like disruption. But, like Wicca, he enjoys interaction with everyone……..especially when he is in control. He bosses the dogs, calling them by name and asking the if they need to go out. He whistles at passers-by out the camper kitchen window. He beeps at incoming and outgoing cars. He is the ringmaster,  bossy nosy body who spends his days making sure that everyone stays with the program………his program. He reassured Hana that she is a “Good Girl” and reminds both dogs that barking is a “NO!”. He whistles sweetly back and forth with Arnie and begs me to let him out of his cage to play. Cracker does not fall into either category. We think he made up his own!

So our household is very diverse! And the question of how we are to live in a diverse world has perhaps never been more pressing than now. If humanity is to survive, it is imperative that we find a way to accommodate worldviews and value systems different from our own. Pets can teach us this if we let them.

On this day of Pope Francis’s historic visit and speech in New York, we might ask ourselves, how can we learn not to be so threatened by difference? How can we learn to communicate successfully with those whose vision and understanding of the world differ from ours? Certainly, Hana, Wicca and Cracker understand the world in different ways and we accommodate them. Surely we can welcome diversity in the folks we include in our lives, knowing that diversity can either spark conflict and violence or mutual creativity and progress. How can we assure that the latter is the case?

In the spiritual path that is important to us, Buddhism teaches that each individual is a unique manifestation of the ultimate truth. Because each of us manifests this truth in the form of our particular, individual character, each of us is a precious and indeed indispensable aspect of the living cosmos. Every sentient creature is valued for who they are.

Just as each individual has a unique character, a unique experience of life, each culture can be understood as a manifestation of cosmic creativity and wisdom. In the same way that Buddhism rejects any hierarchical ranking of individual humans, it adopts an attitude of fundamental respect toward all cultures and traditions.

The practitioners of Buddhism are encouraged to take a flexible, open approach to the cultural context in which they find themselves. Thus, as they uphold the Buddhist principles of respecting the inherent dignity and sanctity of human life, they follow local customs and practices except when they are directly contrary to those core principles. As we travel along with our animals, we try to keep this in the forefront of our mind.

The original purpose of Buddhism is to awaken people to the infinite value of their own lives and, by extension, the lives of others. Ultimately, our ability to respond creatively to diversity hinges on our ability to develop a palpable sense of the preciousness of life itself, and of each individual expression of life.

Travel well along the Open Road and in the Wild Wood with the precious companions of your own choosing and those that chose you too.

Eating healthy while living the camping life can be a challenge. We have been working on developing a collection of tried and true recipes that we could easily put together in the small space kitchen of our camper. In compiling this collection, we are taking into consideration cost and the mechanics of packing and keeping staples that we would need to stick to a healthy menu and not be tempted by roadside or fast food alternatives.

We are primarily vegetarian, so fruits and veggies figure heavily in our menu planning. When on the road, we stop frequently for local produce using the website http://www.localharvest.org to track available sources close to our location. If there are no farms, farmers markets or other local sources within reasonable driving distance from our route, we just ask a “local” to be directed to some hidden gem. It is fall harvest season here in Virgina and local produce has been abundant. The small towns around us take turns holding their farmers markets so you could visit a different one each day. Also, the large Southwest Virginai regional Farmers Market is close by and a great source of all that is fresh.  It’s been fun to try some veggies and fruits that we are not able to easily procure in Florida. Local hone, much of which is dark and full of nutrients,  has been outstanding too.  It’s also been a treat to find that there are many church bake sales where we can get breads.

A delightful benefit of visiting the farmers markets is the abundance of craftsmen and artisans who sell some very fine work. We stumbled upon a really interesting booth where a woman was selling puppets. Puppets that are operated on sticks and strings are very popular traditional children’s toys in this region. She was selling some that were made from fur and came in all colors. They looked a lot like Sesame Street characters. The sign said, “Mountain Boogers” $15.00. Of course, I was intrigued and just had to go over and ask her, “What’s a Mountain Booger?”  Her answer was, “$15.00.”  I meant what is this thing you call a Mountain Booger, not what it cost, but she misunderstood me. Doesn’t everyone know what a Mountain Booger is? We chuckled and she explained further. There are noises in the mountains that sometimes don’t have a good explanation, so her family always told the children that it was the “Mountain Boogers”. They made toys out of the concept and about 35 years ago named them after the legendary Boogers. The hysterical part is that one of them is a doppelgänger for our Japanese Chin, Hana. Trust those of us who know and love her, she’s a Booger too.

Breakfast:

We start each day with a smoothie to be sure we are getting a nutritional start. Although our kitchen is teenie tiny, we are willing to give up space to the versatile Margareta Machine. The great green machine can blend frozen fruit, shave ice, or puree butternut squash for a tasty curried soup. 

Two for Two Smoothies ( makes two smoothies for two people)

In the blender, combine 2 cups of any favorite fresh or frozen fruit, 2 bananas, 2 cups spinach or baby kale, 2 large scoops yogurt, 2 cups almond milk, 2 tablespoons chia or flax seeds. Two scoops of medium tofu adds some protein. We keep a microwaved sweet potato on hand at all times and add 2 heaping tablespoons for sweetness.

Lunch 

Lunch is often a bean salad.  We make a big batch and keep it chilled so that we can just dish out enough to make a quick, easy  lunch that takes no preparation. 

This is the recipe for the bean salad that we use (with frequent adaptations to include what we can get fresh)

Ingredients

• 1 (15 ounce) can black beans, rinsed and drained
• 1 (15 ounce) can kidney beans, drained
• 1 (15 ounce) can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 1 green bell pepper, chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, chopped
• 1 (10 ounce) package frozen corn kernels
• 1 red onion, chopped
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1/2 cup red wine vinegar
• 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice

• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 2 tablespoons white sugar
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1 clove crushed garlic
• 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
• 1/2 tablespoon ground cumin
• 1/2 tablespoon ground black pepper
• 1 dash hot pepper sauce
• 1/2 teaspoon chili powder

Directions

1. In a large bowl, combine beans, bell peppers, frozen corn, and red onion.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together olive oil, red wine vinegar, lime juice, lemon juice, sugar, salt, garlic, cilantro, cumin, and black pepper. Season to taste with hot sauce and chili powder.
3. Pour olive oil dressing over vegetables; mix well. Chill thoroughly, and serve cold.

Dinner

Using whatever fresh veggies we can get locally, we have been combining them for fresh veggie plates. Pasta and veggies is also a favorite. I use an old electric Faberware frying pan that was my Grandmothers. It cannot be beat as it cleans up so easily. We just simmer saute onions, peppers and garlic, add fresh tomatoes and simmer until tender. No need for a pot to boil pasta, we just boil the spaghetti right in the electric skillet also, making clean up simple. Salad rounds out many dinners for us and we especially enjoy daughter-in-laws arugula salad topped with onion, tomato and pine nuts.

Snacks

As we drive about or hike, we’ve been enjoying fresh apples since it is orchard season now here and homemade trail mix that we put together and vacuum sealed before leaving home. Arnie’s is plain, but I added espresso beans to mine for a chocolate fix.

Beverages

Since freezer space is very limited, we make frozen strawberries do double duty. A glass of water, a half a squeezed lemon, a shot of honey over frozen strawberries makes a really refreshing homemade strawberry lemonade. I also take fresh rosemary from the garden and freeze it and drop in a sprig of that for more flavor.

In the camper, we use a French Press for coffee so that there is no plug-in required. Most of our outlets are busy charging the phone, iPad and Chromebook, so plug-in space is precious. It is fun to taste test local brews when we come across them. And speaking of local brews, we keep an eye out for local beer breweries and wineries that offer tours and tastings.

Little Rickie James, three weeks old

We headed out to the Blue Ridge Music Center and stopped off on the way at a Farmers Market in Independence. Today was Fiber Day and there were several venders who knit pieces with alpaca wool. These are true craftswomen who are making fabulous pieces out of natural materials. The wool was available for sale as well as rolls of died yarn. A highlight  was a three week old baby alpaca whose name was Rickie James.

We were also enchanted by our conversation with this delightful lady who makes beautiful pieces out of gourds. The details in her work were exquisite. She is a character and such fun to talk with!

Right off the Blue Ridge Parkway is the Blue Ridge Music Center, a permanent exhibit that offers an educational experience on the roots of American music. The exhibit walks visitors through how American music came to be. Through video, audio recordings, paintings, photos, artifacts and other information, the exhibit tells the story of how music came to the mountains and how all American music has evolved from old time music. Many of us love music, but know little about the history of traditional Appalachian music and how it has an enormous influence on American music.

The Blue Ridge Mountains are an important musical breeding ground in America. Driving around this countryside, we could not help but wonder how did mountain music move from front porches of the Blue Ridge to the ears of America? This exhibit gave us great answers to the question.

Among the artifacts are instruments built by local craftsman, old radios and cylinder records from the late 18 Hundred’s. Every day the center offers free midday mountain music from noon to 4 o’clock. You can go there to hear local performers of old time, gospel, bluegrass, Americana and traditional music. The day that we stopped by there were two older local gentlemen playing guitar and banjo and singing old time favorites. We enjoyed it so much that we went back for a Saturday night concert. The Center has an open air ampitheather that faces into the mountains. There is a state of the arts sound system that amplifies the music way up into the hills. Tickets are only $15.00 and the venue draws top folk, gospel and blue grass acts.

After leaving the concert, we drove up to the nearest overlook to watch the sunset. We met a fellow on a Harley Davidson and struck up a conversation with him. He was quite a character, sharing with us that he earns his living making handmade wooden “vaps” . He was a wealth of information about the spectacular view we were looking at. He pointed out where the Appalacians ended and the Sour Town hills began. He showed us the town of Mt. Airy where Andy Griffin’s Mayberry was based upon. He could name every hill and every knob and every valley and took a great deal of pride in helping understand better what we were looking at. And the sun falls on another pretty Appalachian day.

In case y’all should think that camping is all fun and games, let’s allow some reality to set in and admit to the seamy side of this hobby. Least I romanticize it, consider this:

1. We are having an issue with condensation on the canvas. Because the temperature outside is colder than on the inside, water condensates and drips can form. It rectifies itself during the day, but comes back in the night. It’s not terrible, but it is there and occasionally we have a dream about droplets falling from the night sky on our bare faces. Only it’s not a dream.
2. We are committed to functioning in this small space harmoniously. So we have had to look at the glass half full instead of half empty when we need to move about inside. We can pass in the hallway, but only if we stop and hug and do a little dance. That’s not all bad.
3.  Little Wicca is a velcro dog. She wants to follow me everywhere and be wherever I am. Why she needs to follow me twenty feet back and forth in the camper is a mystery to all but her. We have taught both of the dogs not to jump up on anything to avoid injuries, so they simply put their front feet up and ask to be lifted. We call this behavior, “Toes”. Wicca does “Toes” all day long and I am feeling like I have a toddler who is begging, “Pick me up, PIck me up, Pick me up!” I have to remind her,  “You are not the boss of me!”
4. Arnie is a putterer. He is wonderful at making things work better, smoother, more efficiently. So, when he greased up the ball of the towing hitch it just seemed routine to me. The problem is that it sticks right out of the back of the truck where I need to go for supplies and clothes every day. I have ruined two pairs of pants so far by smearing that grease all over both knees. Two hours at the seediest laundramat I’ve ever seen yesterday and it does not come out. I hate greasy balls.
5. But at least the facilities are really nice where we are staying for the bulk of this trip. Not like the leaky compost toilet on the Big Cypress trip. That’s a story with a memory attached! We had just come out of the woods on a hike and there it was. It was like an oasis in the desert. I needed a ladies room so desperately that I could overlook the conditions if I was quick……or, so I told myself. Walking past the sign with the bullet hole in it, I carefully removed the ipad and the cell phone from my small backpack, set them on the sink so that there could be no accidents in this “ladies” room. I finished up, retrieved the phone and tablet and carefully tiptoed towards the door on the slimey slippery floor. Then it happened. In a flash, my feet slipped apart and forward, tossing me flat on my back in the muck. I slid across the floor stopping at the wall. The ipad and phone skimmed to the far side of the room like flat stones over a pond. I laid there for a moment trying to determine what was broken or sprained. Determining that I was going to be sore, but relatively intact, I started to right myself. But the old high school skiing injury to my knee screamed at me and I knew I needed Arnie to come and haul me up. Boy, I hated to yell for help, so I sat there for a bit hoping to try again. But this is the Big Cypress Swamp and it was mucky and smelly and I was sitting in a room with a leaky compost toilet. Scotty, beam me up please!!! I tentatively called for Arnie with no response. I pictured him off staring at birds in trees through binoculars while I lay mired in stinky stuff

Finally, Arnie came looking for me. “Babe, are you in there?”, he called around the Ladies room corner. “Yes, I need help. I slipped and fell.” He bounded in, surveyed the scene with me on the floor in a heap and our technology scattered across the room. He did what any husband would do without even thinking about it…………he exclaimed, “Oh my God! The ipad.!”

I will spare you the filler. This is one of the those moments that we will laugh about forever. and one of those moments that reminds us that camping has a seamy side too. I decided to put it to music in the Appalacian style. Sing this to She’ll Be Coming Round the Mountain:

She’ll be coming round the compost when she falls

She’ll be sliding cross the floor when she falls

She’ll be coming round the compost

She’ll  be coming round the comporst

She’ll be sliding round the comporst when she falls.

She’ll be slipping in the yuck much when she lands

She’ll be sliding cross the yuck much when she lands

She’ll be slipping and a sliding

She’ll be slipping and a sliding

She’ll be stirring up the compost when she lands!

YeeHa!

Jams are an integral part of the music scene on The Crooked Road. We are really enjoying stepping out in the evening to attend some of the local ones. Musicians, most of whom have no formal training, but rather learned at the knee of their parents and grandparents come out once a week to sit in a circle and “make music” together. The circles are all a bit different, but hey are all wonderful to attend. They have a common purpose of preserving mountain music and songs as it has traditionally been played.

We went to Independence last night to attend one at the 1809 Courthouse, a historical site on the Crooked Road. Driving there, we noticed that many of the farmhouses had wood smoke coming out of their chimneys. The nights are already chilly here, mostly in the 40’s. We pulled into the Courthouse which is across from Jessie’s Barbershop, a business that has been there since 1948. Hopefully, Jessie isn’t still wielding a razor? We went inside and took a seat right in front of a glass enclosed collection of antique moonshine jugs. Walls of memorabilia surrounded the space.

This circle is in the traditional style, playing and singing the old songs, many of which were familiar to us even though the style was new. Each person takes a turn calling out a song and the key. That person start the song off and everyone jumps in. The instruments represented included mandolin, bass fiddle, auto harp, dulcimer, banjo, violins, and acoustic guitar. None are miked, so the richness of the layers of instruments stays pure and clear and just the right level. Between songs, the musicians chat and joke with each other and the audience. Arnie was taking photos and one of the fellows, spoke out to him saying, “Sir, are you from Rolling Stone magazine?” It was not possible to sit still at this jam. You have to tap your toes and rock with the music. You also cannot help but smile with the sheer joy of it!

This is a velvet smooth front porch collaboration of talent used to playing together. They support one another. The circle leader makes sure that each instrument is featured equally. He calls out, “Okay, fiddles.” when their part comes up. The other instruments back off and allow the fiddles to shine, knowing that each will have a turn. Here the women played equally with the men and the respect for the women when they sang the old songs was touching and refreshing.. No pun intended, but the women are on an equal playing field here!

This music is made for the pure pleasure of making it and the sense of belonging that being a part of the group brings. Songs included Delaware Blues, Great Big Tator, Blue Ridge Trot, Cherokee shuffle. Together they are preserving something precious, music that has informed all music that has come after it. It moved Pete Seeger and the folk musicians of his era. They in turn inspired future generations. This is the sound of the origin of American music and it is deeply moving; pure water for the soul.

We arrived early and were greeted by a lady who winters in Melbourne, Florida, but comes here in the summer. She plays the dulcimer and asked for some help setting up the chairs for the circle jam. We were happy to oblige. The circle is held in an old movie theatre that resembles an old community hall that many New Englanders grew up with. The players sat int he middle of the room and the old wooden floor was soon to echo with the sound of taps as dancers began to two-step and flat foot. All were welcome to get up and dance and the locals were happy to instruct. Right after intermission, an 86-year-old gentleman came around with a coffee can collecting money for the Cake Walk. Arnie pulled out the $2.00 donation and we got up to participate. We soon learned where the saying, “It’s a Cake Walk” came from. Arnie was the first winner and we went home with a dozen homemade cookies that were most welcome in the camper! He said winning this is easy…….in fact, “It’s a Cake Walk!”

We hung around for a few minutes after the jam/dance talking with folks and enjoying the company and getting hints on where to go to hear more wonderful music like this. Folks here enjoy chatting and it is hard to part company after such an enjoyable evening.

We left saying that we had not had such a great time in a long time. Simple, no cost, good clean fun. It seems to be a rare commodity and we are grateful to have been included in this  special evening.

Our adventure for today was to drive over to Floyd, Va to another venue on The Crooked Road, The Floyd Country Store. The Floyd Country Store is a gathering place for musicians, dancers and visitors.

The Friday Night Jamboree is an authentic experience of Southwest Virginia’s old time and bluegrass tradition. Every Friday at 6:30, the music starts with gospel hour, then bands playing good old time music. Dancers crowd onto the dance floor. The store fills up quickly and it may be standing room only. On Saturdays, they play Americana and Old Timey music followed by a Mountain Music jam later in the afternoon. Each weeknight there are jams attended by local traditional musicians and some traveling bards also stop and sit in too. All of these events are free to promote land preserve local, traditional music.They are not so much performances as true get-togethers of like minded people who enjoy this sort of music.

To get to Floyd, we took The Crooked Road north challenging my tendency towards motion sickness once again. The road winds through forests and then out into open farmland with herds of contented cows grazing in the fields. Right alongside the fields the mountains rise planted with clearings of perfectly shaped Christmas trees growing straight out of the vertical cliffs and towards the sky. Arnie was reminded of his friend, David Kinghorn and thought that perhaps the Christmas trees that his church sells during the holidays might have originated right here on one of these mountains. Maybe yours too?

It is haying season and the aroma of fresh cut hay blew into the truck on the breeze as we traveled along with the windows down. It is a pleasant drive. We were listening to a CD of acoustic guitar and banjo played by a couple of older gentlemen that we had gone to listen to earlier in the day. We passed dozens of small, modest homes most with huge tractors in the front yard or shed.

It was the Songwriters Circle that brought us out to Floyd’s tonight, The Circle, like drum circles, is open to all and this evening we were treated to a small group of writers who brought their own songs to try out on each other and the crowd. Not only can the audience listen to their orignial music, but also the discussion between songs that revealed artists perfecting their craft. They openly discussed the creative process, the challenges of keeping it fresh and the difficulties of staying in touch with home when they are on the road. They sat in an intimate circle on the hardwood dance floor with the mountain view behind them out the big windows. It was a privilege to attend.

We had dinner at the store which offers only homemade goods and it was delicious. Arnie decided to have a piece of warm apple pie, so I went up to fetch it for him. I was trying to describe to the young woman  behind the counter that he wanted it heated……just a bit, not nuclear, but about a 4 out of 10. I was having trouble explaining just how he wanted that. She said, “Honey, let me help you with that. Around here, we say, “Just knock the chill off ‘en it!”    Yes, that’s what I was trying to say.

Some of the songs seemed to expose the artists most inner self. They were mostly in the folk style, simple and short, revealing dreams and demons both with a smattering of humor thrown in too. These are artists who read no music and play by ear, taught at the knee of their grandparents and parents. One of the players shared that his wife played better than him on the mandolin, but it was hard to get her out to a Song Circle, “what with having six kids and working full time.” Here are some of the original lyrics that we enjoyed……..we tried to write down some of these gems.

She’s a pretty girl with an ugly tattoo. Ask the boys what they think and they say, “Boy that sure looks good!

I’m done with you now. It’s easier to smile with you gone a mile. I’m done with you now.

While the fire is burning, I’m constantly turning, these flames into memories of you.

When you come around, I turn around and never will I meet you half way.

You’re casting a line which is all very fine, but I don’t feel like taking your bait.

Today was a magnificent day to go for a hike. We drove about an hour to get to an elevation of just over 5000 feet at Grayson Highlands State Park. The drive to the Park is along The Crooked Road and today, that was a literal translation. The two lane country road wound around and around, climbing the mountain. At one point, Arnie commented that we may have just met ourselves coming and going! Hairpin switch back curves kept me a bit on the edge of my seat. It is such a change from the hub bub traffic that we are used to in Florida. At one point, we were driving along at a slow pace sight seeing and Arnie glanced in his rear view window to see a line of half a dozen cars behind us. We had forgotten how much fun it is to just go out for a drive in the country!

We were excited to get out on one of the hiking trails and see some of this beautiful country up close and personal. We grabbed the backpack with peanut butter sandwiches, fresh orchard apples and a couple of bottles and started to head up the trail.

This 4,822 acre Mountain Park next to the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area in the Jefferson National Forest was established in 1965 and is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year. It offers breathtaking views from the highest point in Southwest Virginia and a variety of outdoor activities, camping, trails, boating, fishing and events that range from music festivals to wild pony roundup. Average daily temperature during the main season is between 50 and 75 degrees Fahrenheit during the day and between 30 to 59 degrees Fahrenheit at night. The park can have snow as early as September and into late May. We had been warned to go prepared for drastic and swift changes in the weather, so we packed carefully this morning. We needn’t have worried though, it remained ideal weather for a walk in the woods all day. It was also nice to hike and not think about snakes for a change. Due to the harsh weather and conditions the rangers report that they seldom see snakes. It is known for it’s salamader biodiversity. To see these more reclusive creatures, we would have had to turn over some wood and stones. They are unlike the geckos and lizards in Florida which run about everywhere in the open.

During late spring and early fall, temperatures well below freezing are not unusual. There are hiking trails of moderate to difficult levels and we had chosen a moderate one named The Rhodedendrum Trail.  Along the way, hikers can encounter Wildlife, including a herd of wild ponies. Nearly 10 miles of wild trout streams are located in Grayson Highlands State Park. We would cross a cool mountain stream that offers anglers native Brooke and wild rainbow trout as well as breathtaking scenery. We could look right down into the depths of the Blue Ridge Mountains and valleys. It is the land that time has forgotten.  We walked beside cliffs, shaded pastures, in and out of lush woodlands.
The Parks most famous attraction is a group of wild ponies that inhabit the pastures of the mountain top. They are not always visible, but a lucky visitor can see them moving on the distant mountainside. They graze paying no attention to visitors’ excitement at seeing them. They are fairly tame and visitors can spend hours watching them, taking photos, following them around. Today, we were not fortunate to see the whole herd, but we did catch a brief glimpse of one individual through the woods. It seems so often now that we have to travel to see animals locked in cages or behind  glass walls but here at Grayson Highlands, they are wild and free. Seaworld take note!

One downside of being wild is having a very harsh environment to live in. At over 5,000 feet in elevation, the mountain can have brutal winter conditions to survive in. There have been years in the past when the herd suffered many losses and withered down to about 45 to 50 ponies. Currently, the herd has been maintaining around 120. The Wilburn Ridge pony Association holds an auction each year in the fall to keep the herds population in check. The proceeds go towards sustaining the herd and to help other local charities.

Here we met the Appalachian trail. We just saw the movie A Walk in the Woods with Robert Redford and Nick Nolte before we left Florida. It is one of my favorite books and it was a special feeling to think that Bill Bryson walked this very place. I have a lot of admiration for those hardy folks who can complete this feat. It is not easy walking and this is one of the more accommodating sections of the trail. We crossed paths with a number of folks who are on that journey either in its entirety or in sections.

Cell reception here on the top of mountain (literally) is not so good. So, yesterday, we drove out to find somewhere that had more bars (reception, not beer) so that we could phone home and check in. No big news from the home front, sister Reggie and Jeff who are semi-nomadic like us left for NH, little Tucker the chihuahua has found a home and a red light district has sprung up near our house (Phil will know what this is code for). Karen and Estelle trekked to Uxbridge to visit an Army Corps of Engineers site that we hope to spend some time at next summer. I hope I got that right, because with this kind of reception, sometimes the conversation can be a bit garbled and prone to misunderstanding.

Even at home, the reception occasionally lets us down. For instance, I had an interesting conversation with my Mother. She wanted to  fill me in on her “new experience”. She called on her landline which is sometimes not as easy to hear on as the cell. She led into the conversation by saying, “You’ll never guess where I’ve just come from.”

It’s Plymouth, NH, so there is not a whole lot of choice in answers to that question. She might have just come from her Bible Study, or a visit with a housebound friend or the weekly trek to the grocery store. Maybe she caught up with one of my own dear friends who visit with her, maybe Rosy or my sister-in-law, Reggie? Regardless of the destination, it could not be too outside of routine. This is a small NH town with not a lot happening that could be terrifically out of the ordinary. For the most part, life happens here with a certain comforting rhythm and predictability. And Mom is 88, so what kind of trouble could she really get into anyway? There is nothing that takes place in Plymouth that resembles the strip malls here in touristy Florida where one can find any sort of convenience, gambling, fetish or perversion know to mankind. Or, womankind for that matter. It’s all here, but it’s all not there in rural NH. Still, there was that telltale bit of excitement in her voice that got my attention.

I was totally stunned by her answer. The conversation went like this:

Mom: “You’ll never guess where I’ve just came from!”

Me:     “Where?”    

Mom: “The POCO Gay Bar.”

Me: “What did you say?!!!

Mom: “The POCO Gay Bar.”

I drew my breath. A new Gay Bar in my little home town? My Mother went there? How did they get that by the selectmen? Where would they put it? In some abandoned restaurant that fell on hard times out on Tenny Mountain Highway? Why would they be open in the middle of the day? Are they filling in the off hours with Bingo? We all know Gram would never miss a new bingo hall in her hometown, so that’s a possible explanation? It’s funny how multiple thoughts can fly through your head when you encounter a situation like this that has you flummoxed. I just couldn’t think well enough to speak these questions out loud, so I went on with the conversation in as careful a manner as possible, keeping my growing list of queries to myself and trying to disguise my shock.

Me: “Really? How was it?”

Mom: “Oh, it was wonderful!”

Me: “Great!. Great. What did you like most about it?”

Mom: “ I felt wonderful. especially the massage.”

Well, the Bingo theory is now totally out the window. She surely wasn’t there playing Bingo. Not if the massage felt good!

I drew my breath again and cautiously continued.

ME: “Is this the first time you’ve been?”

Mom: “It’s been there awhile, but it’s the first time I’ve been. Now I can see why you and Judi like it so much and rave about going. When I come to Florida this winter, we will all have to go together.”

Now, my Mother wants to go to a Gay Bar with my decidedly straight friend, Judi? I cannot wait for Arnie to get home and share this with him. He thought he was cool taking her to a ballgame?

Me: “Mom, what’s the name of this place again?

Mom: “The POCO DAY SPA”, she said slowly and more clearly this time. Remember Reggie and Jeff gave me a gift certificate for a pedicure after I told them I’d never had one before?”

Me: Long Pause. “So you didn’t go to a Gay Bar? I thought you said POCO Gay Bar!”

By this time we were both dissolved in laughter over this conversation that lasted only a short time, but will now be something we revisit often to chuckle over how utterly screwed up phone conversations can get when the connection is poor.

Thanks to Reggie and Jeff’s lovely gift, Mom had her first pedicure and I had yet another laugh. Anyone know a good Gay Bar that Mom, Judi and I could visit this winter for a drink before Bingo?