Tag Archives: Vacation

Our Blue Ridge Vacation — The Drive

Travel, , , ,

Our plans, this summer, were to spend about 10 days in the Midwest. A few in Illinois and the majority of the time in Hazelhurst, Wisconsin. However, neither of our teenage offspring wanted to spend that much time (and that far away) from home. Dean suggested a beach house — we used to spend a week or so each summer in Chincoteague, but since Andrew just returned from a trip to the beach with a friend and Clare doesn’t much care for the beach, we looked to the mountains for our 2010 summer family vacation.

I did a search on cabins in the Blue Ridge mountains, and I think the one we ended up staying at was one of the first I saw. I sent Dean a link, he liked it and suggested we talk about it with the kids that night. We didn’t talk that night but within a couple of weeks did decided to try to rent that house — although I was pretty sure it would have already been rented for the week we wanted to go.

I was partially right — the owner of the house said that it was available for some of the week we wanted to visit, but not for most of it, but he had other cabins available to rent — furnished nearly identically. I talked to Dean and he said that would be fine, and emailed the owner again. He replied that the guests who were going to stay in the original cabin didn’t mind moving to another — we could have the one we wanted, so we booked A Blue Ridge Haven for a week.

Once I had the address of the cabin (after sending my payment to the owner), I did some Internet searching and discovered that it was in a resort, owned by a former motivational speaker who was at one time, according to Wikipedia, involved in a pyramid scheme along with Ben Gay and Jerry Booz. On the Web site of the resort is a sort of weird mission statement:

[Our] mission…is to have at the core of every endeavor that is instituted on or through our facilities a family oriented emphasis bringing families closer and protraying Peace, Tranquility, and Love to all who come to know us.

The cabins were also much closer together than I expected. I was beginning to have some reservations about staying there, but it was too late for a full refund. Our cabin was the closest to the river, so I figured we could spend a lot of time on the front porch and not look behind us. I also found a newspaper article about the resort that poked fun at the owner and his big ideas.

We took two cars so we could do separate things if we wanted to (or if someone needed a quick escape back to Bethesda). The drive was quite pretty — we’d planned on stopping at the Walton Mountain Museum because, as a child, I was a fan of The Waltons and Earl Hamner‘s books, but we were hungry by the time we got close to the museum and there was no hope of food in the town where the museum is located, so we drove on and stopped for lunch. After lunch the GPS told us to go west on a narrow country road for quite some time. We ended up on the Blue Ridge Parkway, which was slower than the route we’d been on before our Walton Mountain detour, but at spots, breathtakingly scenic. About 20 miles after our lunch break Clare and I spotted a bear cub running towards the road. It stopped and turned back into the woods — probably because its mom was calling it. It was my first bear sighting.

Closer to the Meadows of Dan, where the cabin was located, we drove through dense fog. We could barely see the lights on the rear of Dean’s car much of the time. Clare loved it though — she said, once when we slowed down so we couldn’t see Dean’s car ahead of us, “This is what nothing looks like.”

We finally made it to the Meadows of Dan — a tiny town off the Blue Ridge Parkway and home to Nancy’s Candy Company. The resort is a few miles out of the Meadows of Dan — and hard to miss with its large sign, carousel and noticeable white buildings. The house looks just like advertised — and was spotless. We took the main floor bedroom and the kids took the loft. The rest of the cabin was a “great room” with connected kitchen and a bathroom. Quite cozy, but also big enough for the four of us.

Photo of A Blue Ridge Haven
A Blue Ridge Haven

I’ll write about the week later — it turned out to be quite idyllic, if you ignore the fact that I worked for 3 days. Everyone got along well and everyone seemed to have a good time.

Up North: the series ::Kitsch & Scenery:: Wisconsin Dells

Places, Travel, ,

A series about Wisconsin is not complete without a post about Wisconsin Dells. On our excursions to Chetek I vividly remember seeing signs, possibly starting south of Beloit, declaring the wonders of Wisconsin Dells — Tommy Bartlett Water Show, Noah’s Ark, Fort Dells, & The Wonder Spot. I remember longing to visit the Dells because of those signs, but it wasn’t until I was at least 10 years old that we actually did visit the Dells for a day.

I’m guessing we stopped there either on the way to Chetek or on the way back from Chetek, but I can’t be certain — maybe we drove there and back in one day — I know we did not stay overnight though, at least not in a motel. I do know, however, that we visited it with the Pasholks and the reason was mostly for my dad and Jack to meet with a mutual friend of theirs. I remember sitting in the friend’s house while the grownups drank beers and thinking, Get on with it already — I want to have some fun. Did we come all the way to Wisconsin Dells so we could be bored watching you drink beer and visit with your friend?

The grownups finally did say goodbye to their friends and took us kids to an attraction: Fort Dells.  I remember quite a bit about the day at Fort Dells. We saw a Wild West show, drove a model T car around a track and went to a haunted house. I remember being very scared of the haunted house and burying my face in my hands for most of the ride, much to Marcia’s amusement. I think we might have stopped in a Paul Bunyan’s for lunch or dinner, but that might be another memory. I wanted to visit The Wonder Spot but we didn’t — possibly because we ran out of time, or because it was too expensive.

At the time of that visit I was young enough to not be embarrassed by kitsch — something that the Dells excels at. As I grew older and until somewhat recently, I avoided anything that might be considered kitschy.

I think my mom and dad took my brother and me to the Dells one other time — on a trip that also involved a visit to the Baraboo Circus World Museum. I remember very little of the Dells on that trip except maybe seeing The Wonder Spot. I sort of remember someone sitting on a levitating chair. However maybe I just saw a brochure for it.

Dad at The Wonder Spot
Dad at The Wonder Spot

My only other visit to the Dells was as memorable as the first, but I think I liked it less. This visit was on our first honeymoon — the one with Neal & Marie and Paul. Neal and Marie were from New England and Paul was from England, so they’d probably not even heard of Wisconsin Dells and might not have chosen to go had we not suggested it. One of the reasons I wanted to go to the Dells was because my mom and dad went there on their honeymoon in 1954. They went The Wonder Spot.

This time we didn’t go to Fort Dells —  because we were too old and also because it wasn’t there anymore. We did ride The Ducks though. That was interesting and it was nice to see the real reason for Wisconsin Dells — not the tourist traps that were advertised on the signs, but the natural sandstone formations on the Wisconsin River. I don’t think that I knew anything about the actual Dells until this trip. It was a little scary, though, when the driver of the vehicle stopped in the woods and asked for tips.

I was hoping to take my kids to the Dells, but it never happened, and now they’re really too old to want to go with their parents, if at all. Clare likes kitsch, but I think it embarrasses Andrew. I’m not sure I’ll ever go again. The places that I’d remembered from my childhood are gone and I’ve already seen the Dells. I’m pretty sure that if I went I’d be disappointed.

Puppies!

Pets, ,

I’m not a dog person. I don’t dislike dogs, I just prefer cats. Well, there are some dogs I dislike. I don’t like Dalmatians because every Dalmatian I’ve ever encountered has bared its teeth at me. I’m afraid of Dobermans. My Uncle Don raised Dobermans and one bit me when I was 3. I don’t really remember it, but I was told about it enough to make me wary of them. I also don’t like pit bulls purely because of their reputation. I’ve heard too many stories about people being maimed or pets being killed by pit bulls that, even though — until recently — I wouldn’t have known a pit bull if one was attacking me, I didn’t like them.

So when my Aunt Ginny gave me instructions on what to do when I arrived at her house and it involved being friendly to a pit bull, I was more than a little worried. She said that the dog that showed up pregnant on their doorstep and subsequently gave birth under the neighbor’s playhouse was really very friendly though and I should have nothing to worry about.

When I did arrive at my aunt and uncle’s house in Northeastern Mississippi I thought that no one was home. I saw the dog almost as soon as I got out of the car and talked to it as friendly as I could. “Hi there dog. How are you? I understand you are a friendly pit bull, right? Don’t bite my leg, ok?” Then I saw my uncle and was relieved. I’d spilled a nearly full box of Annie’s Goldfish crackers on the floor of the passenger’s side of the car and my uncle said it was ok to give it to the dog. She was friendly — and liked to be petted. Each time I went outside she was right there, ready for some attention.

The not-very-scary pit bull, PD

Ever since reading Lali’s post about puppy-sitting her friend’s Cavalier King Charles Spaniels and remembering when our neighbor’s dog had puppies when I was a child and how much fun it was to be surrounded by several tiny biting beings with breath that smelled of coffee grounds I wanted to hang around some puppies too. I knew I had a chance to do so the weekend I was in Mississippi. The first two days I was there I was too busy to suggest a visit to the puppies. I considered walking over myself on Saturday evening, but didn’t want to be mistaken for a trespasser in case the neighbor or her son were at the house. I did spend some time outside on Saturday evening, looking at the water, watching birds and petting the dog (whose name I’d been told was PD — for “Pregnant Dog”). She seemed to not want me to go into the house — she seemed to want some company and when I did try to head towards the house she pushed me away from it. I thought maybe she was pushing me towards her puppies, but didn’t really think that was possible (although I had recently finished The Story of Edgar Sawtelle which was rife with stories about Very Intelligent Dogs to whom pushing a human to check on puppies would be a piece of cake) so I waited until the next morning.

On Sunday morning my uncle received a phone call from the neighbor whose playhouse the PD had chosen to give birth under. The neighbor was spending a while with her ailing mother, so was unable to check on the dogs. Her son was stopping by occasionally to check on the puppies and when he was there last saw that the puppies were gone. The neighbor wanted to know if Uncle Jack would check to see if PD had moved them or if they were really gone. I was a little worried — having been looking forward to seeing the puppies. Uncle Jack grabbed a flashlight and we walked over, accompanied by PD and, sure enough, the puppies were not under the playhouse. We looked around a little more, wondering what could have happened to them (I suspected coyotes) but we didn’t see any blood that would indicate that there had been foul play. Then we saw that there was a small shed that I’d mistaken for an outhouse that had a gnome sized hole cut out of the bottom of the door. We walked to it, Uncle Jack shone the flashlight through the opening and saw movement. Then a small parade of brown and black puppies trotted out to greet us.

Delighted, I dropped to the ground to get closer to the puppies. All but one climbed on my lap and nipped at my clothes and shoes. PD chose to become part of the chaos and joined in on the fun. She would not stay still to nurse the puppies, even though they seemed to want some breakfast. Then, since most of her puppies were in my lap, she decided that she wanted to be there too. So I sat there, cross-legged  in the Mississippi dust with a full-grown pit bull on my lap while she nursed four of her five 4-and-a-half-week-old puppies. Oh to have gotten a photo of that! It was certainly a moment to remember. (And I actually thought about Lali and her Cavalier experience as I sat there)

After a few moments, just about when I thought my ankles couldn’t stand the pain of being pressed into the hard ground PD got up and went back to my aunt and uncle’s house. The puppies still wanted to play a little, but eventually they went back into the shed with their less curious sibling.

I went back one more time, this time on my own, to get some photos of the puppies. I tried to get a video, but operating a camera and being a climbing toy for 5 puppies is a little difficult. If these guys had been old enough to leave their mother, I might have been tempted to take one home with me. They were really that adorable.

[Update: PD was euthanized on October 14th for complications due to heartworm & scabies. May she rest in peace.]