Week 5: Snow in North Carolina

January 30, 2010

Adventure is not about the goal, it is about having fun!

I woke up this morning to a few inches of snow, but I was still determined to make it to Hanging Rock State Park. I watched the weather for a bit and headed out around 7AM. The roads were plowed although snow and sleet covered. Not too many were on the road at this hour of Saturday morning which is what I was aiming for. Travel was slow. I decided to shop at Sheetz to use the facilities. I exited and pulled up to the stop light. I tried to pull out, but I was spinning. My dash board lit up like the 4th of July fireworks. The brake light, ABS light, and the traction control light came on; they didn’t go out. I got going and pulled into Sheetz; the lights were still on. I broke my car! I did my business at Sheetz and came out hoping that I would start my car and everything would be back to normal. Nope! I pull out the car manual and read about how serious it is to have all of these lights on. I check the brake fluid. It’s fine. I get back in the car pull out of Sheetz and my car magically fixes itself.

Back on the highway, I witness two accidents. 1) A Jeep spun out and almost got clipped by a tracker trailer. 2) A truck that flew past me spun out and slammed into the retaining wall. 4-wheel drive does not make you invincible people. I get off of the main highway and head north through Kernersville. I arrive NEAR Hanging Rock State Park and discover that the Beetle is NOT 4-wheel drive. There is roughly 10 inches of snow on the unplowed road. I start to drive around the park and think there might be a sneaky way in. Wrong! I review my map; I am miles from the edge of the park and I can’t hike 20 miles in one day. No hiking today. Well, it has still been an adventure thus far, so I look for a different way home.

I found some nice scenery along the way. Old barns in white blanketed fields, snow covered church steeples, and lots of SUVs and cars in the ditch. I came across a magnificent mill along the way back which made the whole trip completely worth it. I stopped in the middle road and snapped a few pictures. The rest of the trip back was uneventful except for several convoys I saw. NC DOT was out in swarms. I saw 3 instances of snow plowing operations each containing 6 to 8 graders and 4 to 6 plow trucks. It was a fascinating thing to see. Traffic is slowed by a pacer truck and then the equipment attacks the road ahead. Thank goodness I never got behind a convoy. Wasn’t there a bad ‘70’s song about a convoy running from the fuzz?

I arrived home safely by 4 PM and shoveled the walk and driveway. I’m the only one in my neighborhood with a clear driveway. Are they lazy or do they not own shovels? To end the day, I made a lovely snow angle. Driving in snow was not nearly as tough as a five dollar steak. How’s that for a redneck saying I heard today?

Week 4: Occoneechee Speedway

January 23, 2010

"Gentlemen start your engines!"

Never thought I would say that or ever have anything to do with NASCAR, but never say never. While in Hillsborough last week, I picked up a pamphlet on the Occoneechee Speedway. Today I decided to hike the track and surrounding trails. The Occoneechee Speedway was used during the inaugural season of NASCAR in 1949. It is the only track that is still in existence from that first season. The track was formerly the Occoneechee Farm named after its former occupants the Occaneechi Indians.

I started at turn 1 and walk along the track to see the grand stands. Cement benches lined the side of the hill. Not ideal sitting conditions for several hours of watching cars drive around in a circle. The center of the track is grown up with pine trees as is the perimeter. I continued along to turn 4. At this point I realized that I’m “driving” the wrong directions around the track. I have passed several walks/runners all going the opposite direction. Oh well! I finish walking the 1 mile track and head out the entrance to the Spectators Trail.

The Spectators Trail, as the name suggests, follows the path of the old race car enthusiast. The ticket booth is still there although it has a fresh coat of paint. Through the window of the ticket booth you can see some memorabilia from the racing days – posters, tires, an old Pepsi cooler. Along the path is also the old outhouse and what could have been a concession stand that is falling down.

The path continues down to the Eno River and follows it for a bit. I did a little off-trailing to take a advantage of some photo-opts and cut back to the track. I see what may be a path cutting through the center of the loop and take it. It turns out not to be a path, but I trudge through the brush and trees to finally emerge onto a "real" path. This one leads to an original billboard for the Hillsborough Savings and Loan Association making my brush trudging worth it. Along the way there are various pieces of history (or junk depending on your view). Total mileage for the day, about 4ish. It was a beautiful sunny day for a refreshing stroll along this historic landmark.

A little more history on the track: The first race was held on August 7, 1949; this was the 3rd race in NASCAR history. The winner was Bob Flock, to which I say “who?” Apparently he is in the Motorsports Hall of Fame. Really? 17,500 people watched this race. This seems like a large number of people just to watch 28 cars drive around the track, but then again this is the south. The final Grand National race was held on September 15, 1968. Richard Petty would win this race by 7 laps! His grand prize…$1600. Doesn’t seem like much compared to today winnings.

Week 3: Hillsborough, NC

January 16, 2010

In light of the fact that my bum is still bruised and sore, I thought I would take it easy today. On the agenda, a visit to Hillsborough, NC. The plan, well I didn’t have one. I wasn’t sure what I would find if anything. What I did find was a cute and very historic town. As I drove through town, I saw more of the famous-historic-people signs than I’ve ever seen in one town before.

The first stop was the Hillsborough Town Hall. The sign said the Meeting Room was to the left. The Meeting Room was a barn. Historic? I think so and it looked like it was still in use. Town Hall was built in 1754. There are several buildings on the property including a little well house. The main building had a sunroom filled with old bottles.

Leaving the Town Hall, I found that there was a house with a sign out front that said “Timarand c.a. 1903.” I drove a little further and found another sign “Heartsease c.a 1770” and another “Webb House c.a 1800.” As I drove up and down all of the side streets, there were many houses. All of which were over a hundred years old. Some houses were huge mansions where the wealthy probably lived like the “Judge Gattis House 1908” and other were for the common folk like the “Mason’s Ordinary c.a. 1754.” There was also a dog house in a tree along the way…weird.

I stopped by the visitor’s center located in the “Alexander Dickson House c.a. 1790.” I got some great information from the attendant, a guy from Iowa. He told me to drive down the road a few blocks to see the slave cemetery. The Margaret Lane Cemetery (The Old Slave Cemetery) was the burial ground of many slaves. There were few grave markers, however you could see many of the sunken plots throughout the cemetery.

I also found out from the visitor’s center attendant guy that William Hooper was buried in a local cemetery. Who is William Hooper? Mr. Hooper was born in Boston, became a lawyer and politician. His claim to fame was that he signed the Declaration of Independence. He died at age 48. He was buried in a creepy cemetery. I visited the cemetery to say hello to Mr. Hooper and Mrs. Hooker and stopped by the Hillsborough Museum.

After leaving I drove through the other side of town and saw the Shops at Daniel Boone. It had lots of antique shops and some interesting signs and gadgets. In the winter, not many of the houses are available to tour. A repeat visit may be in order.

Week 2: Hiking Pilot Mountain

January 9, 2010

Buddha once said “It is better to travel well than to arrive.”

Driving up route 52, Pilot Mountain appears abruptly towering over the horizon. If you are a fan of Mayberry, you may feel the need to call it Mount Pilot.

I took the Pinnacle exit and a few back roads (where I saw an old shaggy goat) to park at the trail head of the Mountain Trail and the Grassy Ridge Trail. I started out at 10:30AM and a temperature of 28 degrees F. I had dressed in plenty of layers. Deciding to take the hardest trail first, I started up the Mountain Trail. After 20 minutes I was sweating and shedding layers. The trail was solitary and peaceful. There were beautiful blue birds flying around and perched in the trees with pinnacle of Pilot Mountain in the background. It was fantastic hiking weather. The sun was shining, there was a small breeze blowing, and the birds were chirping. This is God’s creation and He walks with us on our adventures.

The trail goes up but also around the mountain. At one point I started to wonder if I had gone the right direction. This is the point where Buddha crossed my mind. I had been focusing on getting to the top. Then I remembered “It is better to travel well than to arrive.” What is an adventure if you are so focused on getting to the top of the mountain that you miss the forest? I stopped focusing on getting to the top and began to just enjoy the hike. The rocks were amazing; moss covered rocks, shimmering rocks, and colored rocks. I didn’t find one small enough to take as a souvenir. I get this from my mom who collects rocks from everywhere.

The Mountain Trail ends at the Ledge Spring Trail. At the intersection I passed a couple who was trying to figure out which way to go. I let them take a look at my map. We chatted and parted ways. I continued up the trail to find some spectacular icicles. This is where nature showed me who was boss. There was a huge icicle that was many feet long. It was spectacular! Deciding to be creative, I wanted to take a picture from behind it. As I stepped behind the icicle, I went down hard on a thick patch of ice. I quickly jumped up so I wouldn’t look stupid, as if there were tons of people around. There was no one in sight. My elbow was killing me. Instant nausea hit me. I snapped this cool picture through the ice and then proceed to roll on the ground and whine like a baby for 10 minutes. It is important to note how I just had to get that picture before I let my pain take hold. They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…well I’m my father’s daughter. Get the picture at all cost! Looking back at today’s photos, I have this comical blurry picture that I must have snapped while crashing to the ground.

This is the painstaking picture.

It wasn’t clear where the trail was going but above was the fence surrounding the look out. I scampered up the side of the hill to get a breathe-taking view of the country side. Yes it was breathe-taking since there was not cover blocking the frosty wind. Adding layers back on, I chomped down on some PB&J. Why is it that PB&J tastes so good when you’re hiking?

How many gargoyles do you see?

I headed down the Grindstone Trail where I passed a few more people including a guy with two dogs. At the end, I stopped by the ranger station to use the facilities. In the stall there was a sign that read “PLEASE FLUSH AFTER USE.” Now the flushable toilet was invented in the late 1700’s. We have all used toilets for quite a while. Why is it that people still don’t understand how to flush a toilet?

The last trail back to my car was the Grass Ridge Trail. The hike was almost finished. I could see the edge of the forest. Emerging from the wilderness, I discover that this was not where I parked. I looked up and down the road and could not see my car in sight. This was a false trial head (similar to a false summit I suppose). Such trickery! I trudged on further down the trail and finally arrived at my car tired and hungry. As I was taking of my off my boots, I see the guy with two dogs approaching. He wants to know the quickest way back to the ranger station. I send him in the right direction and wonder why no one looks at the map before they start hiking.

Five hours, 8 miles and 1000 foot ascent, I had some battle scars to remember the adventure by: my elbow is swollen and I have a huge bruise on my right rear quarter. Who new your@$$ could bruise?

Week 1: The World's Largest Frying Pan

January 2, 2010

In the small town of Rose Hill, North Carolina is the acclaimed World's Largest Frying Pan.

I woke up Saturday morning and searched the internet for an adventure and found The Frying Pan. I started down I-40 to find the town of Rose Hill. I saw an exit for the town of Clinton and hopped off there to drive down route 701. 701 is a flat road; no hills, dips, humps, nothing. Random Fact - In 2007 Clinton was recognized as an All-American city. It has the standard fast food joints and a huge pig farm. It makes sense considering how much southerns love their BBQ (which by the way is vinegar based - yuck!).

I continued east on route 24 and through the town of Turkey (yes like the bird you eat for Thanksgiving). If you blink you may miss Turkey. More people live in there than my hometown though. Turkey only had 272 people living there in according to a 2008 census. But low and behold I found out later that the father of my friend Graham was born there. Small world.

Still driving down 24 and hung a left in Warsaw onto Route 117. I continued through Magnolia and into Rose Hill, NC. I found The Frying Pan on the main drag in a small park. It lives in a little shelter and smells like old nasty grease. This would be from the serveral times a year that the folks in Rose Hill use The Frying Pan. It can fry a chicken for each day of the year (365). This may require a second trip to see the pan in action. See pictures for all the details. It doesn't exactly look the the big cast iron skillet I was thinking, but it is quite unique in it's own.

I left Rose Hill and headed back the way I came from. This time I contiued east on route 24 and came to the town of Roseboro. Rose must have been a popular name back in the day. The banners read "Welcome to Roseboro: Just Good People." Roseboro had a a sign that pointed to the Historic Downtown. So I followed it. As I drove into Historic Downtown I was a little disappointed. It was historic alright. Most of the building were old and empty. I continue to head home.

And so ends the adventure for week 1. Small towns are always an interesting treat.