We left our cabin in the morning to encounter again the drenched mountains of the Blue Ridge Parkway.
At the northernmost outskirt of the Pisgah National Forest we stopped for lunch in a small mountain town called Blowing Rock. This town also happened to hold one of North Carolina's most famous view points, conveniently also called The Blowing Rock, which we decided to check out after lunch. To our disappointment, the viewpoint had been privatized, and due to bad weather (a couple drizzles here and there), closed. We loitered around the building, looking to see if there was any way we could still reach The Blowing Rock, but the only way in would make us trespassers. Then, just as we were about to head back to the truck, a couple in a blue pick up from South Carolina pulled up. The man, smoking a cigarette and wearing what looked to be a motorcycle gang denim vest (with nothing underneath) and some bottom bell jeans, burped and instantly started looking for ways to get to the view point. (We also want to point out he had thin, blonde mutton chops. This was a true hick.) He found the trespassing spot, noticed us watching him, and yelled, "Y'all are stupid if you don't come!" Naturally, we followed him over a wall and onto the property. We then took a couple of picture shots at The Blowing Rock and got out of there.
We left the little mountain village and got back on the Blue Ridge. Eventually somewhere around northern North Carolina, the landscape around us morphed from mountains into the most classic pastoral countryside we've ever seen. There were rolling green hills and red barns everywhere. It was a sight straight out of a picture book, practically cliched. Gee golly, that was amazing.
Anyway, to wrap up this post, we ended up camping at a site called Rocky Knob in Virginia, which was unreasonably infested with a variety of spiders--including large black widows. At one point, one unearthly looking critter crawled on my camera and began spinning. Here's a picture. This freaked me out, to say the least.
At the northernmost outskirt of the Pisgah National Forest we stopped for lunch in a small mountain town called Blowing Rock. This town also happened to hold one of North Carolina's most famous view points, conveniently also called The Blowing Rock, which we decided to check out after lunch. To our disappointment, the viewpoint had been privatized, and due to bad weather (a couple drizzles here and there), closed. We loitered around the building, looking to see if there was any way we could still reach The Blowing Rock, but the only way in would make us trespassers. Then, just as we were about to head back to the truck, a couple in a blue pick up from South Carolina pulled up. The man, smoking a cigarette and wearing what looked to be a motorcycle gang denim vest (with nothing underneath) and some bottom bell jeans, burped and instantly started looking for ways to get to the view point. (We also want to point out he had thin, blonde mutton chops. This was a true hick.) He found the trespassing spot, noticed us watching him, and yelled, "Y'all are stupid if you don't come!" Naturally, we followed him over a wall and onto the property. We then took a couple of picture shots at The Blowing Rock and got out of there.
We left the little mountain village and got back on the Blue Ridge. Eventually somewhere around northern North Carolina, the landscape around us morphed from mountains into the most classic pastoral countryside we've ever seen. There were rolling green hills and red barns everywhere. It was a sight straight out of a picture book, practically cliched. Gee golly, that was amazing.
Anyway, to wrap up this post, we ended up camping at a site called Rocky Knob in Virginia, which was unreasonably infested with a variety of spiders--including large black widows. At one point, one unearthly looking critter crawled on my camera and began spinning. Here's a picture. This freaked me out, to say the least.
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