Fog Happens: My trip to Sewanee, above the clouds

Day One: Wednesday

We departed after work in a PT Cruiser, my apologies if you own one (I'm reminded of an incident in college when Sam Dyer offended half the class of sorority girls by saying that riding in a Chevy Cavalier is like being tossed about in an aluminum foil bag--and then came back to apologize after some of them complained about it). It took us 10 hours, and we got in around 3AM. It was rainy and foggy and generally a scary ride up the mountain. We are unable to attain the key to the forestry cabin that we'd reserved, so we sleep in the car...for 3 hours.

Day Two: Thursday

Because it was still kinda rainy out, we did a driving tour, and stopped by and met some of J's old friends. We also got the key to the cabin and headed out there...and when I tell you that we were on bouncy rocky pock-marked puddly gravel roads in that PT Cruiser, boy oh boy, that doesn't even give that road justice. My heart stopped a little each time we had to drive through a puddle for fear that we'd blow a tire...which we did, but that comes later. The forestry cabin was exactly that: a cabin in the forest. I mean, the real forest. We were out in the middle of nowhere, but at the same time, I knew we were within a few miles of campus. We set up our tent inside the cabin (my request at a compromise since it was rainy and chilly) and it turned out to be such a great move.

With so little sleep the night before, we decided to use the rest of the day as our "vacation day" and we bought some wine and relaxed by the fire, talked about everything under the sun (literally) and eventually took a nap, which was glorious. We ate dinner that night at a pizza place that had opened up after J graduated, so it was a new experience for both of us. The kid who waited on us was a local boy who J had mentored in a youth program a few years before, so it was neat to see them catch up. We went back to the tent, and as expected, I had some trouble falling asleep. Not because I wasn't exhausted, but because I was honestly very frightened; I'm a CSI-watching paranoid realist and I kept thinking that if I closed my eyes too long, someone would sneak up on us. That didn't happen, obviously.

Day Three: Friday

We woke up at around 8 and decided to go get breakfast. On our way, J notices a "funny little light" on the dashboard, that kind of resembled a check tire light. While parked at the student center to perform our daily "washing" in the bathroom, a nice man tells me we have a flat tire. My heart, just like the tire, deflates. At that moment, I seriously figured our trip was doomed. But, in true Southern hospitality, the owners of the gas station in town recognized him and stopped their current tasks to fix our tire...for ten dollars. After being told we'd gotten ourselves screwed (picked up a screw in the tire, that is), we thanked them profusely and went along on our merry way.

After breakfast we went on a mind-blowing hike called "Bridal Veil." It was very steep, and nestled in the woods far away from any sounds of civilization. After what seemed like forever, we rounded a tree and suddenly I could hear it: the waterfall. We made our way down to the bottom (or so I thought) and we were standing on the lip of a sink hole looking up at the most beautiful waterfall I've ever seen. It was especially lovely due to the rain from the previous days. We stopped to take a few pictures and rest, and J made me go to the next level down to the forest floor. He definitely had to push me past my limits because I was ready to stop at the falls, but I went, and I'm glad he's such a good motivator. The trip back out of Bridal Veil was another story, because we were so tired and worn out. We made some fantastic decisions in the cuisine field that night, and bought a disposable charcoal grill, bratwursts, and BEANIE WEENIES! I was also suffering from a random insatiable craving for grape juice.

During out outdoor cookfest, it became clear to us that something was wrong with Miss Mary, as she was shaking and wobbling and her eyes were darting all around. Seeing how we were out in the middle of nowhere with no cell reception, a little panic ensued. Finally after hours of stressing and yes, a few tears, an emergency vet called us back and told us she sounded hypoglycemic and could we give her any honey or Karo syrup? Nope, we're camping, but we did just happen to have a very high in sugar grape juice bottle, and she drank it like a champ and was fine in a few more hours. She scared us pretty good, but I had a talk with her and let her know that it was NOT OK for her to be sick. She listened.

Day Four: Saturday

As soon as we woke up, we knew we had to make our move. It was gorgeous outside and we were not going to waste the sunlight. We went on another hike, called "Shakerag." It was so picturesque. We encountered a group of 4 old men on the trail, the leader of whom had a large knobby walking stick and, ahem, was barefooted. We stopped and chatted with them for a little bit, and later on in the hike it occurred to me that they might've been wizards. I don't think any of them had long flowing Dumbledore hair, but two of them did have white beards. It might've been the euphoria of being completely surrounded by nature and dancing trees and grey horned owls (or is it great horned owls?), but I convinced myself, and probably J, that those 4 were forest wizards.

After our hike, we went to visit one of J's old coworkers...a 60-something lady named Ruth who had grown up on the mountain. Trying to capture Ruth's character could fill up an entire book, but it'll suffice to say she was just about as animated and crass as a 60-year-old lady can be. She was delightfully fun, and she regaled us with tons of tales of life as a single older gal. By the way, it should be mentioned that the entire time she was talking to us, her little moppy black Pomeranian dog Darling was totally humping his teddy bear. I kept thinking, "Stacy, do not look at that dog and that bear," but darnit, it was hard. And I swear, Darling gave that teddy an afternoon he won't soon forget.

That night, we decided to give our little charcoal grill another shot at glory and grilled dinner again. We used some wild rosemary we found in a garden J maintained in college to marinate our steak, with an appetizer of gouda and wheat crackers. We sat in silence for a few minutes just watching. And listening. And for me, writing poetry in my head that I'm still forcing myself to hammer out onto paper. We gathered wood for the fire, and stopped to watch the sunset on a huge rock jutting out over a cliff. Beautiful and breathtaking. We were both exhausted by the end of the day, but reluctant to fall asleep because we knew what it would mean when we woke up.

Day Five: Sunday

It didn't take nearly as long for us to break down camp as I'd expected, and we were on the road fairly early on. We didn't make it but an hour and a half on the road before we had to switch drivers due to sleepiness and gray skies and rain, and we continued to switch off and on the rest of the trip. It was around hour 4 that I turned around to glance at sweet Mary when I saw it. The Tick. Crawling on her angel face. I summoned all the courage I had, plucked it off, and tossed it out the window. For the remainder of the trip she was known as "Tickbag." I found 2 more on her, J found one as well. I also found one on my arm in the car and screamed so loud J almost ran off the road. I think it was justified. I've always hated those evil creatures, but I realized why I hate them so much in the PT Cruiser that day. They're like mean little aftertastes of a wonderful trip. You can have all the fun in the world, and then find a tick in your hair and BAM, ticks are all you can think about. We got home safely, unpacked, de-ticked ourselves again (me: one biter on the ankle, J: one biter on the...um...nether regions), and called it a day. A wonderful, adventurous, exhausting day.

It was so great to finally see the place where my man called "home." It's his Virginia, his independent, out-on-his-own, just-for-me move. I feel like I *get* him better after seeing it, after being there. In the words of wise old Ruth, "Honey, I never met anyone who didn't leave a little bit of their heart on this mountain when they left."