Asheville, North Carolina

Warning: I had every intention of regaling y'all with my traveling anecdotes chronologically. I thought I could really raise my esteem in the eyes of my peers (oh my, how industrious is she?) but like most women with a myriad of responsibilities my plan went to hell when my dad with whom I stayed on days 4-8 didn't have any internet connection and we kept way too busy having fun to frequent the nearby coffee shop that did. To top that off on the last day of our trip my power connection for my lap top (containing many photos I NEED) malfunctioned and I am awaiting my trip to the Apple genius bar tomorrow to fix it. So now you'll have to take it out of order...

Road Trip Days 5-7: Sunken in the middle of the Smokey Mountains is the beautiful city of Asheville. I drive about 8 minutes down the mountains from my family property in the Beaverdamn Gap and another 8 minutes into the city and I am  in the midst of the most bohemian place you could imagine.

I promise I will absolutely make your mouth water and you may even gain a few virtual pounds when I can access my laptop and share all the delicious culinary delights to be had in Asheville.

My people are mountain people. They are not city people but I crave both. You know how I hate indecisiveness but I love staying up the mountain and driving down to the city for the stimulation I require. There are so much to appreciate about both.

My dad doesn't really comprehend it because he would be happy to avoid the city at all costs but he usually allows me to drag him around wherever we want to go for two or three days before he declines the offer to join us on our outings. He really loves when we return from out escapades with funny stories or yummy food we have found on our journey.

Once you get down the "hill" to the city you'll find a unique mix of  down home friendliness and urban sophistication. I think that is one of the draws for such a wide range of people you will find inhabiting, touring and retiring to this area. Not to mention the inexhaustable opportunities for outdoor recreation and the moderate 4 season climate. It is a prime example of the south with a diverse mix of folks with differing skin color, religions, political beliefs and socio-economic statuses. 

 There of course is plenty of controversy as migration to this area increases and development occurs. You'll find the typical battle of business trying to capitalize on the area's resources versus the environmentalist (close the door and lock it after you have found your personal piece of heaven) going on. I find the diversity and controversy stimulating due to my "smart growth" practical philosophy of life. I appreciate a workable approach to these things. I have a strong belief in respecting the environment and mother earth but not putting up stubborn roadblocks to expansion.

Sustainable is the new key word in our world and it is in Asheville too. I have no argument with that at all although I get the feeling it will soon be an over used label in our contemporary vocabulary that we all may become desensitized to like so many other good concepts. The economically responsible shopper in me was disappointed to find the prices at some of the boutiques that advetise social responsibility to be so out of touch of with the income level of the local population.

I find it ironic strolling through town multiple days in one week I found the same townies sitting out front of businesses that proclaim to be organic, sustainable and environmentally responsible smoking cigarettes and tossing their butts into the streets of this otherwise pretty little city with so much to offer.

A Respectful Afternoon

Road Trip Day 4: After a late breakfast on day 4 I felt I wanted to go to the cemetery to pay my respects to my dear Aunt Hazel. She was loving, loyal, a hard worker, generous, lived for her family. She taught me how to cook southern style every summer when I visited and immersed me in their culture.She would tell me to grab my pocketbook and let's go loafering! And Oh could that woman ever talk, for hours, about nothing. I surprisingly liked that.She was precious to me and although we had said our good byes last summer when she was helping to write her Eulogy, I was unable to attend her funeral over Thanksgiving and felt I had really missed out on something important.

You know I'm not a fan of drama and public displays of emotion but when I leaned down to gingerly touch, and then clean my Aunt's headstone I felt greatly grieved. And I missed her. It was my first trip to N.C. that I didn't see her smiling face and accept her "sugar" while trying not to grimace. Everyone on our side of the mountain is still feeling raw around the edges of their mourning. As they like to say we are all feeling tore up over her passing.

Her husband, my Uncle Richard passed away 18 years earlier in 1990. He would take me hiking and exploring all over in places my mother would never approve of me going. He talked and demonstrated as he walked along. He knew everything about the trees and the snakes that populate the area and of which I am deathly afraid.He had so many funny tales of he and his brothers exploits around these mountains. Just when I thought I had heard it all he would come up with another tale and  I'd discover a new piece of our family puzzle. It was like hiking with a relevant and interesting history book. Each summer when it was time for me to return to Michigan I always missed them the most.

Now I have my cousin David and some of his children and grandchildren to share memories with. We are striving to keep the stories alive and relevant and to teach these values to the next generation.

 On my last stop I had to see my Uncle James who had shocked us with his untimely death 4 years ago. After years of diminishing health and back problems they had done a heart procedure that really seemed to breath new energy into my tallest uncle whose nickname was treetop.

He seemed to be on a roll, able to move about more freely and having more energy than he had in years. That spring flu season hit hard. Both he and my dad came down with an unruly case. Subsequently my Uncle was hospitalized and entered a downward spiral that he never came out of and he passed, leaving his very close family shell shocked to say the least.

I flew down to the funeral all by myself and picked up my rental car which ended up being a very fast black Mustang. I felt a wee bit conspicuous tooling around the mountains in that car but all my male cousins got a big kick out of it. My Uncle James was a very quiet and humble man and our visits rarely had much conversation but instead companionable quiet and that was ok with the both of us. I do however recall some pretty wild rides on the back of his jeep up and around trails and through mountain passes- so maybe the mustang was a fitting ride for the funeral after all.

We spent a fair amount of time their taking in the air, pulling weeds and trimming back grass around the headstones of our loved ones.

Later I tried to explain to my 13 year old daughter who was with us how important these simple rituals were to men like my dad. It demonstrated to him that I had not forgotten to miss these dear people even though I live 600 miles away. And it comforts him to have us there as a matter of respect to these family members that he spent so much of his life with.

I was proud of her, she didn't roll her eyes once or act bored. She didn't say much but just followed along thinking. When we got in our own car and followed my dad back up the mountain home she said she thought it was a fine way to spend 30 minutes if it could make Grandpa happy and show him that we cared about the same things he did.

That made me so happy.

Renegade Redneck?

Road Trip Day 1:

I mentioned last month (Sluggishly Blogging) I would be road tripping to North Carolina with my 2 youngest daughters. Well that trip began today when my car rolled out of the driveway around 2 p.m. EST. We (and I use the plural loosely here) spent the morning packing the car carefully making sure we would have what we needed for our fun on the road. Being busy driving makes for less than my normal (merely passable) quality of photos so you'll have to use a bit of imagination to enhance this travel tale of mine.

I am a packing genious if I do say so myself. I'm determined to get to my destination in a timely fashion while having some fun along the way. Packed in the back of the 2009 Ford Flex that was featured in 48 Hour Leave of Absence was a full aresonal including duct tape, 3 tennis rackets and tennis balls, basball gloves, camera, Flip video, blue masking tape and paper and markers to send messages to other drivers we pass by on the freeway. I'm telling you our vehicle was loaded for bear.

This guy was like a gift from God sent solely for our entertainment.My photography assistant manned the camera as well as she could. According to this guys car, with North Carolina license plates he is an "Agent" for State Security. Their motto in italics said " to punish and control". We totally aggrevated the man while trying to get good shots of his car while driving  78 miles per hour down the interstate.

My thinking is this is either a new Obama security detail agent or a renegade redneck militia member. Could go either way. We followed him all through Ohio before losing him in Kentucky. We were preparing some signs to hold up in the window to communicate. Our first sign said, "hey, nice buzz cut" but he pulled some pretty fancy maneuvers and escaped our grasp.

We stopped a rest stop and streched our legs, used the potties and were going to throw the frisbe around but found it too blasted hot. So we motored on and found our motel at the end of the day.

We checked into our motel (I had investigated it thouroughly online to be sure it was safe and clean). For $42 we got this ultra nifty room that is stuck in the 70's, even with a magic massaging bed that took quarters . That was an absolute hit with my crowd.

So we are settled into our groovy room and preparing to get some sleep so we can explore the southern institution of The Waffle House in the morning before we take our show back on the road. We'll be headed up into some serious mountains during the last leg of our drive tomorrow, we will try to capture the treacherous interstate...after we get our bellies full of waffles.

48 Hour Leave Of Absence

Alternative titles: How to Blitz Chicago In 48 Hours. How To Spend Quality Time With Adult Children.

Day 1:

1. Pick up new car from Ford dealer at 3:30 p.m.
2. Drive like a bat out of hell to try and make it to Chicago before the Wings game starts.
3. Arrive to the West Loop apartment at 7:40 p.m.
4. Wow doorman with my new ride, unload car and park in deck lot.
5. Greet my Smart Cookie daughter.
6. Saunter over to Vivo for a fantastic meal (chargrilled asparagus with shaved parmesan, shrimp/basil linguine and a fillet to split) and outstanding bottle of Zinfandel). It's a sure bet for a nice meal in a swanky setting on Randolph Street.
7. Stumble down Randolph back to apartment.
8. Check out Conan O’Brian in his new role as host of the Tonight Show.
9. Fall asleep relatively early(1 a.m.) since all had put in a full day.

Day 2:

1. Answer the phone at 5:30 a.m. when my baby calls from home while getting ready for school (6:30 a.m. in Michigan).
2. Tell her “have a good day but DON’T CALL BACK UNLESS SOMEONE IS BLEEDING”.
3. Return to sleep.
4. Arise, slip on exercise clothes and go for a brisk walk on my own, hitting Starbucks on the way home.

5. Exclaim how the same latte I get in Michigan for $3. 60 is $4.07 here.

6. Meet up with the 2 adult children and decide to go out loafering about, shopping and lunching for the afternoon.

7. Walking along the river, appreciating the boats and architecture.

8. Stop by the University Of Chicago Graduate Business School book store for a license plate holder for my new car. I figure I ought to get as much milage as I can out of having my first born in one of the most prestigious MBA programs (even though her employer, not parents are paying for it).

9. Have a very tasty lunch before shopping.

10. Boring my son to death while uncharacteristically spending over an hour in Anthropology.

11. Being out voted on walking home so we crowd into a cab.

12. Being made fun of for my Justin Timberlake ring tone (it’s the baby calling, schools over for the day, “when are you coming home”)?

13. Handing the phone off so she can talk to her older sister.

14. Strewing shopping bags and putting feet up while enjoying the Chicago skyline view out of her 26th floor apartment window.

15. Freshening up for our night out, “lets see how much of a ruckus we can raise” blitz of the Fulton River District neighborhood.

16. Phone call from lawyer who now has my cell phone due to it being left in cab, rendezvous options discussed.
17. Stroll over to Carnivale around 5 p.m. Their web site is definitely worth perusing. Bold neuvo Latino cuisine and wildness abounds, just not at 5 p.m.

18. Patio, overlooking Fulton Ave and I-94, tres (3) margaritas, ceviche (tuna tiradito) which featured tuna, jimica, serrano chile and avacado( delicioso) were consumed for about an hour and a half while waiting on previously mentioned lawyer who has my phone to call us. Watching the street we couldn’t help notice when a wine distributor pulled up with a trunk full of vino in a space pack type set up. I guessed he was Czechoslovakian. I then had to sit through a mini lecture (from my smart cookie who majored in Russian and Eastern European History at University of Michigan) on how that is a misnomer. You can be Czech or Slovac, not both. So he was Slovac, very mysterious in his behavior I thought. We made fun of the waiters we had with their super short ties which looked utterly retarded.

19. Bathroom at Carnivale. It’s way too early in the evening to have a crowd but they have a restroom attendant in there, which is something that really creeps me out in a bathroom with no other patrons peeing. I also have learned to budget every dollar in this recession/Michigan depression thing so I don’t want to pay a buck to use the potty when I’m paying a premium price already for my drinks and appetizers.

20. Daughter in the meantime has met up with phone nabbing lawyer. Turns out he was a little socially inept in face to face communication, but I am grateful he grabbed the wayward cell phone out of the taxi and went out of his way to get it back to me.

21. $160 later we sashay ourselves down Fulton Ave into the Fulton Market district to do a little bar hopping. Do guys sashay? I don’t want to misrepresent the prince. He accompanied us on our sashay and it was a beautiful evening.

22. Upon exiting the restaurant I spied an Audi RS4 parked out front for exactly what it is: a undisputed example of automotive heroin. 0-60 in 4.5 seconds, it’s stupidly fast. To quote The Truth About Cars, “Audi has used every trick in the playbook to get the RS4 to handle near perfectly. There are not enough superlatives to properly describe the vulgar joy of an RS4”. I got the Smart Cookie (aka Princess #1) to lick it. I asked the Prince to lick it but he’s tired of my shenanigans and refused to cooperate.

23. On to Publican we went. This place just fascinated me from the moment we walked to it. First of all it’s on the edge of the West Loop, a neighborhood still a bit sparse and on the gritty side. We decided to make a pit stop at their unique bathroom set up. Tall, solid wood doors open to each private compartment. Once you are done with your business you exit and wash your hands at a circular troth type set up.
24. On entry into the restaurant proper we were ushered to these VERY PRACTICAL tall round tables that featured hooks for your purse (or pocketbook for you southern belles) and a shelf underneath for anything else you might be toting (like a sweater). How cool is that ???? Then our cute waitress introduced me to their bar area specialty, #1 was oysters to which I said “ no thank you”. Then she went on about how they featured ham at this smoke house type venue in the meatpacking district of Chicago. Did you say HAM?

I love ham. No kidding. I just endured weird ceviche (with sushi grade tuna slices instead of all diced up) at our last stop. I was so excited, I’ll take the HAM sampler and a vodka/soda. Turns out this establishment is owned by the chefs of renowned West Loop restaurants Avec and Mockingbird. I was disappointed by the razor thin sliced ham when I was expecting a southern style slab of moist ham. We ate it anyway and I was accused of annoying the snot out of everyone with my picture taking.

25. Last stop for the night was La Sardine, across from Harpo studios, for a night cap. Only I did not need a night cap, I was way past my middle aged drinking capacity for the evening. I inquired about a Chocolate martini, but they didn’t do them here. What kind of a place did you bring me to? I ordered some water and my companions insisted on ordering the famous Le Queue de Boeuf (braised oxtails with potato gnocchi). After a long wait it arrived to our place at the dark polished wood bar and it struck me as HILARIOUS. I have no idea why, but I laughed so hard at the mini sized bowl of yumminess that I couldn’t even operate the camera.

26. Begrudgingly we called it a night. Smart Cookie had a whole day of class in the morning and I had a Saturday evening plan I had to be home in time for. Did I say how great it is to just be able to WALK home after a night out?

27. The next morning we all made it out of the apartment on time. I started my mad dash of a drive home. I have to admit I was zipping along the Indiana Tollway (seriously, are we really to believe the speed limit is 55?) Third car in a pack of 4 we were cruising 75-80 when we came around a curve to the left to see a State Trooper. My heart sunk and I slowed down and got in the middle lane and sure enough here he comes with lights flashing. He pulled over the pickup that was at the head of my pack and then made these funny hand signals to some of the other cars to pull over. He can’t possibly mean me, can he? I motor on while silently practicing my dumb blond stay at home mom act in case another trooper is called to catch up with me. Slick on some plum brandy lipstick with a top coat of Philosophy Kiss Me lip gloss, change my CD to some cheerful contemporary christian music and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

28. Stop holding my breath when I cross the Michigan border. Stop at Culver’s at exit 32 for a bathroom break and some root beer. Pry the really pretty but dead as a doornail bird out of my front bumper with my nail file (then threw it all away) so my girls won’t have kittens when I pull into the drive way in 2 hours.

29. Give about 5 seconds of thought to back tracking to take a picture of a highway directional sign that advertised “VIP lounge & massage” for a truck stop. That’s got to be a good blog story right there, but I’m too focused on my mission to turn around.

30. After one slight traffic back up I pull into my driveway on schedule and promptly unload my bags into my house because that is just the way I like to operate. It's about 3:45 p.m.

That my friends, is how it is done.

Caved In

Canadians are different. Canada is only a bridge ride over the water from Detroit but it is definitely another country. To start with the border guards have no sense of humor at all. How threatening can I look with 3 girls stuffed in my car with suitcases, pillows, beach chairs and and a cooler with snacks and a few bottles of chilled white wine? What do you mean I can't bring that over the border? I'm heading north to the Canadian wilderness and I'm guessing there won't be any fine wine shops where I'm going. It's a matter of life and death. Not even a smile despite all my efforts at being charming and funny. How rude!

Driving up the high way a few hours to our destination I noticed that  Canadians are well, very frustrating to be driving behind. (Didn't I put that nicely?) There are just hours of traveling over country roads behind folks that are in no hurry at all. And if you've read any of my other road trip stories you know that when I'm on track to arrive at a certain time I take that challenge quite seriously.

I discovered something else when we went caving on some good old Canadian's private property overlooking Lake Huron. And it was a picturesque challenging hike up the rocky paths. I couldn't even imagine any Americans letting people traipse all over their land without fear of a major lawsuit.

And here is their simple and effective method of warding off litigious Americans: