Sunday morning hike with the neighbors

Asa on top of the world,
kind of

Saturday night, we were hanging out with our neighbors Spring and Molly. Everyone was having a wonderful time.

Yes, people were enjoying themselves even though I was there. It happens.

Around 10 o'clock in the evening, the neighbor two doors down, Robin, came over and said hello.

Immediately - since rafting guide extraordinaire Wags was with us - we assumed we were being too loud. Because even though Wags lives half a mile away, you can hear him whisper to himself.

Great guy, loud voice. And you know if I'm saying that, it's true. Because I've been shushed a few times over the years. In fact, I believe someone somewhere is shushing me right now.

But since Robin is totally cool, she didn't care. She had another agenda.

"Hey," she said. "We're going for a family hike in the morning. Who's in?"

Naturally, we were. So around 9:30, we drove a half hour out to beautiful Montreat, NC.

Actually, before we left, we had a small incident. Asa's two-year-old brother Eli left our house and started sprinting downhill to his car.

Man, was he cookin'!

Eli midway through a song that basically has one line:

"You make me happy, when skies are grey."

Unfortunately, as everyone there could tell, the wheels were coming off. I believe Eli reached his top speed ever, just before he went down on the sidewalk - knee first - and came to a screeching halt.

He cried almost the entire ride to Montreat. But since we're becoming pretty good friends with Asa, Eli, and their parents, it wasn't a big deal.

Did the magical oil potion Barb put on his knee make things worse? Maybe, but my theory is that any body moving at such an amazing velocity that immediately comes to a halt is going to bang its head on something. Even in a vacuum. You simply can't go from the speed of light to a complete stop without throwing your noggin out of whack.

Regardless, the hike was awesome and we had a great time. And Lula made it all the way to the final rock scramble before I had to carry her.

Meanwhile, Cricket the Mountain dog had no problems whatsoever.

Some might say the day was a nice Montreat. I wouldn't, but some might.

Deja Ivy

I went to college

LAST week I had to make a semi-regular appearance at my place of employment. In the northern part of the country. Where there was snow.

Not to make fun of Cleveland - mostly because it's so easy to do so - but I missed AVL in a big way. The entire time.

I was only gone for 80 hours, but that was more than enough. While I was away, my wonderfully weird new home was calling out to me, urging me to return.

Sit down and bee quiet
I had some issues getting out Tuesday morning. You see, I've been sleeping like a regular human being for the last few years. For a while, I was surviving on stress-filled naps throughout the night, periodically waking up in a freak show scratch session around 3 a.m. every night.

That's all gone. But now that I sleep well, waking up after only four hours of sleep and catching a flight, I was a bit thrown off.

So when I got on board my second flight in Charlotte, we were delayed on the tarmac for about an hour. I didn't know that. I was in the back row, passed out. Probably with my mouth open wide enough for a passerby's fist to fit into.

I woke up at 10:30 and thought, "Wow, smoothest flight ever."

I put my glasses on, tightened my shoelaces, and proceeded to stand up.

Man, downtown Cleveland looked a lot like downtown Charlotte. Since when could you see downtown Cleveland from the airport? And the trees were sure in bloom.

Even with those alarm bells going off, I was too tired to figure out that we'd been sitting on the tarmac.

When I stood up, people started looking at me. After a few moments, I realized I should just sit back down. Something about air marshals and rendition started running through my head.

That's when it dawned on me that we were still in Charlotte.

The poke scratch

That night, I went for a run. Afterward, while I was stretching, my nephew Tommy was hanging out with me, being his usual goofball self.

"Are you done yet?" he asked. Over and over and over.

"Almost," I would say, repeatedly reaching down to the top of my left foot, scratching it.

Sweet jumpin' jeepers, it felt good.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Poke.

Poke.

Poke.

"Hey, you're about to lose that golf club for good little buddy," I said.

"Oh," laugh, laugh, laugh. Poke, poke, poke.

This feeling is strangely familiar

Every season, my first outbreak of poison ivy catches me off guard. Like the time I returned home from hiking in Big Sur with poison oak covering about 90 percent of my body. Yep, including the family jewels.

Well, my old friend snuck up on me again Tuesday evening.

Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Luckily, last season, my wife found a miracle cure for poison ivy: Lavender oil. We all have different skin, so what works for me may not work for you.

But if you find the creepy, crawly, oozy stuff taking over your skin this summer, give it a try!

The bees of West Asheville

West Asheville carpenter bee

Wow, the title of this blog sounds like a Broadway show, doesn't it? The Bees of West Asheville: Starring Ashton Kutcher!

Even though they won't be hitting The Great White Way any time soon, the bees around here really are amazing.

"They're as big as my fist," said some guy with small wrists.

See what a responsible blogger I am? Even though I completely made that quote up, I admitted it.

Now I can quote Small McWristguy as a reputable West Asheville bee source.

Anyhoo, the bee below is pretty lucky that Cricket was relaxing. Two weeks ago, he hunted down a mole and killed it. Right in our own backyard.

Mountain dawg

So we added Killer to his long list of nicknames.

As far as I know, he hasn't eaten any bees yet. I'll keep you posted.

The Asheville Tourists

Missed again

Those of you out there who know me well - assuming there are people out there - know I can be a little obsessive.

So I spent the entire week doing PolPro testing around the neighborhood. I reached speeds previously unheard of on a bike. I think I might have even broken the sound barrier, since windows were shattering as I sped down the winding hill on Bear Creek Road.

Yesterday, I rode out to Bent Creek again. (Note the obsessive behavior). Luckily, I remembered the new rig for the PolPro.

Then I had an epiphany - not only should the PolPro be shoved into the rig upside down, I should clip it to my backpack upside down and bingo! Right?

In theory.

Turns out, the camera - really an iPhone, shhh - was in selfie mode. Therefore, all five kickass videos of world-class trails feature a close-up of my chest.

Blackness.

So I give up. Let's talk about last week's Asheville Tourists game instead! 

The Tourists are the minor league team for the Colorado Rockies. And what a bunch of fine lads they are. Though they lost four to two to the Delmarva Shorebirds, they went down swinging.

Doesn't matter. The game was a blast. Check out this video of how much fun my neighbor's kids have running the bases after the game!

Oh. That's right. I don't have a few days to try and figure out why I can't upload videos to blogger.

Which really means I can't convince my friends to figure it out.

So let's talk about the Tourists!

And let's...get...some...runs!

Fairyville

Charles & Gail Dowis

Like any typical Wednesday afternoon, I was at my desk in my office. Working diligently.

That's what I do.

Last Wednesday was a beautiful day - 80 degrees. Therefore, I opened my office windows. All four of them.

The last time I had windows in my office, it was a different century. So I was thoroughly enjoying the breeze, the sound of birds chirping, and the laughter of children playing.

All while working diligently.

Then I heard my wife get into a conversation with an older couple who had stopped their truck in front of our house. Apparently, the driver used to live here - 70 years ago!

Naturally, Barb invited them inside. They went on and on about how beautiful the house is and what a wonderful job we were doing.

Yes, we. Remember, I'm a diligent worker.

Charles and Gail are the nicest people. We really enjoyed showing them around. I especially loved hearing Charles' stories. I'm not sure which one was my favorite.

In my office, where I work diligently, Charles looked out the window, saw a big tree trunk, and started smiling.

Charles goes for a spin, a very short spin

"One day, one of my older brothers left his truck right over there with the keys in the ignition. I was maybe fourteen and was really interested in driving. So I took it for a spin."

Kind of.

"I turned it on and hit the gas. Unfortunately, it was in reverse. I slammed into that tree pretty good. So I jumped out of the truck, left it right there, and high-tailed it down that way," said Charles. "It was all woods back then."

"You just ran?" I asked.

"Yes. Left the truck running and everything."

Burning down the house, and then some

When we walked outside to say goodbye, Charles pointed to the wooded park down the hill.

"We owned all of that," he said with a sweeping gesture.

"My older brothers built a cabin in the woods down there. One day, they locked my friend and I out. They refused to let us in."

So they did what any teenage kids pissed off at their older brothers would do.

"We lit the cabin on fire," Charles said. "Almost burned down the entire neighborhood."

Luckily, the fire department saved the day. Now I chuckle during my daily walk with the dogs in the park here.

Or the daily "forced march" as my dog Lula refers to it.

Gail promised to find pictures of the house back in the 1940s. I'm hoping she can find some in time for the 100th birthday party I'm throwing for this old house. Here in Fairyville.

Sunday in Old Fort

The covered bridge of Old Fort

On Sunday, we took a ride out to Painters Greenhouse in Old Fort, NC.

A friend told us the good folks at Painters grow veggies, ferns (lots of them), trees, plants, and all sorts of other greenish stuff on-site. We had to investigate.

Because it's time. We're behind! Spring has sprung!

At Painters, no shipping = no mark-up to cover for shipping costs. Plus, employees learn how to grow organic food from the ground up. Love it.

So, off we went. Up a mountain pass and then way, way down. About 30 miles east.

If I'd have known how beautiful the valley is out there, I would have brought my camera. It was crazy.

Are those cookies?

We arrived. Rows and rows and rows of... everything that's green that grows in a giant cold frame.

Then we went inside the year-round area. Cookies, good music, nice people. At a greenhouse?

Crazy.

Don't tell my wife, but I gamed the refreshment stand and was able to make off with about 20 cookies.

Church

That's all I have to say about Fairyville for now. 

Until next time, when I'll introduce you to Charles & Gail Dowis. We met them today.

Charles grew up in our house during World War II.