Ski Trip Saga -- Part One
"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."
Chinese philosopher (604 BC - 531 BC)
This dude had no idea just how correct he was. I don't know about a single step, but I felt like I drove about a thousand miles in the span of three and a half days. Oh, joy!
For part one of this epic recounting I will focus on the journey itself -- I have never been on a road-trip that offered up so many surprises of mildly entertaining value, albeit bizarre in nature. I had a feeling I would see some interesting sights when I found myself face to face with a large print of Monet's "Waterlilies". Where was it, you ask? Hanging on a restroom wall (the only restroom, might I add) in a gas station in Statesville, NC.
Let me emphasize how odd and out of place this print was; there was no mirror in the bathroom. Heck, there wasn't even soap. When I opened the door in the far corner of a grimy gas station with a hand-written "bathroom" sign, I had no idea I would be staring at this impressionist wonder. At least they got taste... but I'm still holding out for soap.
Although this left me chuckling, it wasn't long until I encountered a small detour... well, a rather large detour, actually: a section of I-40 has apparently been shut down for months due to a massive rock slide. This meant that I had to ignore my GPS and depart from the well-blazed trail. I really had no idea where I was going, to be honest. Here are some interesting things that I encountered along the way:
One great thing about having a GPS is that it lists the nearby road names, even when you can't see the street signs (or they don't exist anymore). One of my favorites is Pig Trot Road -- it goes right over a railroad crossing. Another great one is Trendsetter Way... which leads straight into a trailer park via a hair salon (also in a trailer).
- "You'd just have to be there..."
The first major town I recall seeing after I turned off of the Interstate was Christmasland. I mean, not really, but it might as well have been called that. Even though it was only a week after Christmas, this whole town was still completely decked out in reindeer, Santas, elves, snowflakes, snowmen... pretty much anything that has ever appeared on a Christmas Hallmark card.
After that, I went into a little town called Cherokee. I guess it's a pretty big deal for a lot of folks, so no surprise there. What was a surprise was driving around a deserted mountain pass and almost crashing into a casino. A big casino... Harrah's, to be exact. What could be more fun than a vegas-style casino in the middle of nowhere? Why, Tribal Bingo. Can I wear dinosaur bones? Pretty please? As I was leaving Cherokee, I glimpsed Unto These Hills, one of several local outdoor historical dramas. While I've never seen a show here, I have several friends who worked there during summer-stock. I worked at Snow Camp (The Sword of Peace), and ever since then it always fascinates me when I pass by another outdoor theater locale.
- Best Signage or Alright, Mr. Wise-Guy
I don't even know who to praise for this next one, but if I could... I'd buy him a beer. The sign in question was one of those programmable, "detour ahead" kind of signs. What it actually said was priceless:
to 66/40
stay straight
your GPS
is WRONG
All in all, it was a good little journey. The return trip was far less interesting, far more grueling, and not worth mentioning (save what I just said). We'll forget I said anything.
I could do a whole week's worth of entries solely on the Gatlinburg locals, and especially the vacationers. Depending on how interesting (or not) my life proves to be in the next few weeks, I may indulge you. But for now, this concludes Part One of my Saga. Stay tuned for the exciting rantings and ravings to come!
---------------------------------------------------------------
In my last post (well, not the last one, since no one commented on it yet... the one before that), Jennifer had this to say:
Jennifer said...Wow, that is a knockout! I'm totally queueing it. No witchcraft--I'm just a fast knitter, and was extremely motivated (it was supposed to be a wedding gift for my aunt and her wife, but I'd forgotten about the wool allergies...it's now with a friend who wears it around the house like a shawl).
Thank you, thank you -- I'm glad that you think I have good taste in patterns... because that image is certainly not my work. My Stor Dung Ring (or whatever it's called) has already had a quite traumatic little existence so far. And I still think that it's witchcraft.
Does a witch specialize in broomstick lace? (I'll be here all week)
I'm sorry to hear about your fiber-allergenic mishap... but it did get me thinking -- how many others have had handknit gift-related complications? Didn't fit? Already had one? Allergic to fiber? Anything?
Comment below and share your most humorous, tragic, complicated, depressing, infuriating, or generally disparaging gift-giving mishap! I'll be thinking of mine...
Thanks for reading!
No comments:
Post a Comment