Mountain Memories

Ooh, lots of memories of time spent in the mountains:

• skiing in Colorado with Wes's family
• the ski trip in New York when I was a kid
• summer trips to North Carolina--we hiked to waterfalls, slid down natural water slides, and stumbled across a bottle dump site
• trips to Native American reservations as a kid. I don't really remember this one, but I've seen the picture of me and my sister sitting with some beautiful Native Americans (I keep wanting to put Indian princesses because that's how I saw them at the time) in front of a teepee--very touristy
• Chimney Rock, Grandfather Mountain--all those places we've walked and oohed and aahed

I like the mountains. I'd probably choose the beach over the mountains, but that's because the beach feels like home. I grew up in Florida near beaches, and getting back there feels right during any season. In fact, Wes and I were just looking at our schedule, seeing if he had a wedding-free weekend, so that we can return to the beach. But he loves the mountains as well. The cooler weather fits his polar bear tendencies. I love fireplaces, and we rarely see them operational down here except for Christmas.

When I attended a National Writing Project writing retreat, it met in Washington state. Ooh, that was beautiful scenery. We stayed at Sleeping Lady Mountain retreat in rustic log cabins with lofts, a fire pit, incredibly food, and great company. The retreat balanced private writing time with writing groups. Occasionally, when I needed a break from writing, I left my cabin and walked in the valley, surrounded by beautiful wildflowers and caressed by a breeze. I miss it.

Hmm, one of my favorite mountain stories happened before I made it to the mountains. My parents had booked a condo in Sapphire Valley, North Carolina, near Franklin, but I was teaching summer school and couldn't go for the whole week. My whole family went up one weekend, and I drove up the following Thursday. That was the first time my brother and his family had gone. Well, anyway, they went to Whitewater Falls before I got there, one of the best places to slide down rocks. This was our third year visiting this area, so most of us knew it really well.

My mom somehow got separated from the rest of the family while they were returning to the parking lot. Almost out of eyesight, she saw his grandson, so she followed him and didn't worry about it. Well, she followed him all the way to the road, but when she got to the road, it wasn't her grandson. Thus, she ended up at the road rather than the parking lot of the state park. Apparently, this turned into pretty big drama as the family members are trying to find Mom, not knowing if she has hurt herself somewhere, not knowing if perhaps she slipped somewhere down the side of the trail, not knowing where she could be. Some of the grandkids started crying. Chaos ensued. I don't know how they finally found here, but Mom continued to claim that she was following her grandson. I'm not sure my brother's family ever returned to North Carolina with us after that trip.