THE "NO PRINGLES" TOUR (AKA 2006 VACATION)

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Sun 16 Jul 2006
(Austin :: Tyler)
Arrived in Tyler about 10:20 p.m. after a long, hot day of packing the van and cleaning the house for our wonderful dog- and house-sitter. (No matter how much time you allot for packing, etc., you will use it all and need more. And no matter how many checklists Donna makes, you will forget something. But hopefully nothing too important.)

How this year's vacation got its name: It is a sad fact of traveling that despite the remoteness of a location, there will be a nearby convenience store that sells Pringles. The other sad fact is that if we see Pringles, we will buy them. And eat them. We ate so many Pringles last year on vacation that to this day when we see a can of Pringles, we shudder. The goal of this year's vacation is not to buy -- or more importantly, not to eat -- any Pringles. I am certain that we will buy plenty of other Procter & Gamble products in our lifetime to make up for the imbalance that our boycott creates. (Although I will miss being able to make a pinhole camera out of a Pringles can. Or a cantenna.)

Day 1: Baked Lays. No Pringles.

Mon 17 Jul 2006
(Tyler :: Texarkana :: Greenbrier, Ark.)
Remember my wisecrack about hopefully not forgetting anything too important? (See above.) Well, I forgot to do maybe the most important thing of all -- leave a check for our wonderful dog- and house-sitter! Doh! The check is in the mail -- really!

Driving all the way to Buffalo National River today was way too ambitious for us, so we stopped for the night at Woolly Hollow State Park near Greenbrier, Ark., a lovely place with stifling heat and humidity. Thank goodness for the portable air conditioner. Did I say portable A/C? Why, yes I did. And since I'm in a hurry, you'll have to check back for the rest of the portable A/C story.

Day 2: No Pringles.

Tue 18 Jul 2006
(Greenbrier :: Buffalo National River)
A quick morning adventure spent shopping at That 70s Shop -- essentially a head shop, but with some nice tye-dye T-shirts which we purchased -- and a coffee and wi-fi fix at All Perked Up in Greenbrier, and we were off to Buffalo National River.

BREAKING NEWS: ALL REMAINING ARKANSAS DATES ON THE "NO PRINGLES" TOUR HAVE BEEN CANCELLED
Have I mentioned the stifling heat and humidity? When we got to Buffalo Point Campground ("A" Loop, to be precise) this afternoon, the THI was 112 degrees Fahrenheit. 1-1-2 duh-greez. Above zero. An emergency meeting of the Entertainment Committee was called after setting up camp and the decision was made to continue on to a Memphis, Tenn., hotel room tomorrow after a morning splishy-splash in the Buffalo River. You heard it here first, folks -- we are foresaking campgrounds until we get to a higher elevation. Too bad, because we have a really great campsite here and the local lightning bugs put on a really great show. But when you spend the evening sitting in the Eurovan with the A/C running watching the lightning bugs through the windows, it's a sure sign that it's too damn hot.

Day 3: No Pringles eaten, but I did properly dispose of a Pringles lid found on the banks of the Buffalo River.

Wed 19 Jul 2006
(Buffalo National River :: Memphis)
We took advantage of the bearable mid-morning temperatures to take a hike. Recap -- time: 1 hour, 20 minutes; length: approx. 1.8 miles; sights: Eastern gray squirrels, deer and fawns, sinkholes, and rock outcroppings; end result: dripping wet and covered in seed ticks. And I mean hundreds of them. After this unnerving discovery, we both ran to the showers, threw away our socks and underwear, and drenched our shoes in bug spray just to make ourselves feel better. Ick! Time to relocate to Memphis...

Twenty miles west of Memphis, it doesn't appear that you are anywhere near the largest metropolitan area in Tennessee, much less the sort-of-sizeable town of West Memphis, Ark. Twenty miles outside of Dallas or Austin or L.A. and you're in the suburbs. Seemed strange. Then suddenly, corporate food, Southland Greyhound Park (insert frowning face here), the Mississippi River, the DeSoto Bridge and you're in Memphis.

After a trip to the Tennessee Visitors Center to get travel brochures and coupons, we used one of the coupons to secure a walk-in reservation at the Comfort Inn Downtown. Upside: Convenient location, on the Main St. Trolley line, river view. Downside: two double beds, smoking room. Upside: Air conditioning.

We decided to be true tourists tonight and head down to Beale Street. Billed as the "Center of Memphis Entertainment Mecca" (find the grammatical error in that phrase), it seemed a lot like Austin's Sixth Street, although obviously a predecessor. We intended to take the Main St. Trolley to the tourist trap, but as we were standing at the trolley stop, a horse-drawn carriage pulled up and the driver asked if we wanted a ride to Beale Street -- for free. OK, what's the catch? No catch -- he was headed back that way and had no fare. His name was Brian, his dog's name was Isabelle and the horse was Prince. Brian gave us a little mini-tour on the way to Beale St. and we gave him a nice tip upon arrival. So it wasn't really a "free" trip, but it was close enough and enjoyable to boot.

Tonight was "Bikes on Beale" night so the street was blocked off for motorcycle parking and viewing and an eclectic crowd, to say the least. An interesting observation: The white bikers were on one block, the black bikers on the next. I ordered iced tea and the waitress asked "Sweet or unsweet?" Ah, The South, where they know how to make real iced tea. Sweet, of course! We ate fried green tomatoes with horseradish sauce at Alfred's then headed back to the hotel where Kris found two more ticks crawling on him. Ick!

Day 4: No Pringles.

Thu 20 Jul 2006
(Memphis)
Let's face it, America. Graceland is ugly. There is nothing about the interior design of that house that is -- judging by modern aesthetics -- attractive. The shag carpet, the mirrors, the fake fur, the gaudy fabric -- need I go on? Obviously, since none of the inhabitants of the home (not counting Priscilla and Lisa Marie) lived past 1980 and it is now a museum, it is literally stuck in time and will never evolve. We enjoyed our visit, but if you go, be prepared to see how celebrity used to live, not how it lives now. Avocado green and harvest gold still are not attractive colors.

I was fully prepared to encounter crying Elvis fans on this tour, but we only saw one. While queued up for the shuttle back to the visitor center, there was a woman who was still wearing her headphones, listening to and singing along LOUDLY with the soundtrack to the audio tour. She was in her own little world, swaying back and forth with her eyes closed, hugging her little digital player to her heart and belting it out with Elvis.

After a refueling stop at Bluff City Coffee in what appeared to be the loft-y part of Memphis, we spent the afternoon at the National Civil Rights Museum. Two and one-half hours is not enough time to take in all the information in the main museum. The exhibits are so dense that's it's essentially impossible to listen to the audio tour and give the exhibits all the time that they deserve. We ran out of time before we could visit the James Earl Ray extension across the street from the main building of the museum.

There is a woman named Jacqueline Smith who lives on the corner across the street from the NCRM. It seems she isn't very pleased with the museum and has protested NCRM for the last 18 years. Amazing. In retrospect, after reading her Web site, I wish we would have taken the time to stop and speak with her.

Dinner and drinks were at McEwen's on Monroe, a casual restuarant specializing in what they call "Southern fusion" cuisine. If you visit Memphis, you must eat at this restaurant. Being greated by the owner and engaged in meaningful conversation almost immediately upon being seated, checked in on by the chef after entrees were delivered, plus an attentive and knowledgeable waitstaff equals an all-around enjoyable experience. Oh, and the food was fabulous: Sweet Potato Empanadas, Tomato Tart, Watermelon and Ripley Tomato Salad with Cherry Balsamic Vinaigrette, and Unintimidating Green Salad with Crumbled Blue Cheese. Yummy.

Day 5: No Pringles.

Fri 21 Jul 2006
(Memphis :: Shiloh National Military Park :: Nashville)
Before leaving Memphis this morning, we took in one of the wackiest sights we have ever seen -- the world famous Peabody Ducks. At 11 a.m., five ducks walk from the elevator down a red carpet to the lobby fountain -- all to the sounds of a Sousa march -- where they hang out and do their duck thing for the day. This was a sight that just made me smile. Does that make me odd?

We took the long way from Memphis to Nashville in order to visit Shiloh National Military Park. I've been to quite a few Civil War battlefields and Shiloh is a worthwhile trip. It's really a shame, though, that the National Park Service is so severely underfunded that in 2006 the introductory film that is still being shown at the visitor center looks like it was produced when we were in elementary school, using actors in fake beards gesturing like they were in a silent film. And that the A/V equipment the film is shown on isn't as good as what's in our home theatre today. Write your U.S. Senators now.

The U.S. National Cemetery at Shiloh was the site of our first encounter with stupidity on this trip. Background: The vast majority of these burials are reinterments from the mass graves dug after the battle and over 2,300 are unknown Union soldiers, hence the headstones are sequentially numbered and not engraved with names. As we passed a group of four older adults, one of them exclaimed, "Here's someone that was buried in 1978!" This was followed by another member of the group marveling, "Here's one from 1983! Isn't that interesting?" Umm, and if you look between those two headstones, you'll find 1979, 1980, 1981, 1982. See the pattern? Figure it out. And by the way, if you're old enough to be my parents, you're too old to be that stupid.

Driving into Nashville, we got caught in a severe thunderstorm complete with terrifying winds and, of course, I was driving. I always seem to be the one driving when bad weather strikes (Flagstaff, 2005). Or when we hit a stretch of highway construction (Albuquerque, 2005). Or when the car breaks (Phoenix, 2006).

Misc. notes: It was so cold in our hotel room that we slept with the A/C turned off. It freaks me out to see people smoking in convenience stores and restaurants. I'd forgotten that folks in the South are truly friendly and polite. And I haven't forgetten about the portable A/C story.

Day 6: Baked Ruffles. No Pringles.

Sat 22 Jul 2006
(Nashville)
Today's tourist adventure was a visit to The Hermitage, home of President Andrew Jackson. I had been here when I was nine years old, and although the mansion itself hadn't changed, the grounds sure had. For starters, there is a huge visitor center that has excellent exhibits and artifacts and in stark contrast to Shiloh NMP, a modern auditorium with a current film about Jackson, shown on modern A/V equipment. This is because The Hermitage has been owned since 1889 by the Ladies Hermitage Association, a non-profit organization whose mission is to preserve and restore Jackson's home. As we sat down in the auditorium to watch the film, Kris and I simultaneously remarked on the differences between this facility and the NPS facility at Shiloh.

My overwhelming memory of my visit to The Hermitage as a child was the guitar-shaped path to the home that was lined by huge cedar trees. Unfortunately, most of those trees were destroyed by a tornado almost 10 years ago, so the trees that are there now seem dinky in comparison. But the rest of the grounds seemed to have been improved, including a great deal of research about and restoration to the slave quarters. I don't think slaves were mentioned on my tour in 1971.

Tomorrow's itinerary is currently being discussed by the Entertainment Committee. But the decision will be delayed so that we can go to bed and get our requisite 10 hours of sleep. I love vacation.

Day 7: Saltines. No Pringles.

Sun 23 Jul 2006
(Nashville :: Knoxville :: Pigeon Forge :: Great Smoky Mountains National Park)
The Entertainment Committee decided to skeedaddle out of Nashville and onward to Great Smoky Mountains National Park (hereafter referred to as "GSM") since the weather had taken a turn for the better. I'm not sure what the state's tourism slogan is, but Kris decided it should be "Tennessee -- It's Freakin' Gorgeous Here!" based solely on the views along IH-40. We made a brief stop in Knoxville at the Three Rivers Market -- "Knoxville's Community Food Co-op" -- to restock the food pantry.

Pigeon Forge, or "Dollyville" as Kris refers to it, was shocking. It was nothing but go-kart tracks and miniature golf courses separated by budget motels and dinner theatres for miles and miles. And bumper-to-bumper traffic. What hath Dolly wrought? We took the bypass to GSM instead of going through Gatlinburg because we feared it would be another Dollyville.

We were lucky enough to find a campsite at the first campground we stopped at -- Elkmont. It happens to be the largest campground in GSM with over 200 sites, but it's designed well enough so that you aren't parked on top of anybody else, and after the sun goes down, you can't even see your neighbors. We are just across the road from the Little River, which as I write this, is functioning as the best "white noise" ever.

We went for a walk about dusk and saw a wonderful thing. A huge owl (Great Horned, Barred, Northern Saw-whet, not sure what kind other than huge) landed on a tree branch just a few feet in front of us. What a treat that was. He/She hung around for a few minutes so we could get a good look at him/her, then gracefully flew off toward the river.

We built a campfire and sat by it for hours because -- are you ready for this? -- it's COLD. (You don't know how happy I am to say that, or frankly, to be cold right now. Beats sweating in Arkansas, even with the portable A/C on full blast.) The stars here are beautiful, but the trees in our campsite are so tall, that they obscure the view. You have to lean waaaay back and look up above the tippy tops of the tall trees just to catch a glimpse of them.

Somewhere along the way here, time changed to Eastern Time. I've lost an hour, so it's night-night time. More dispatches tomorrow. And hopefully the next time I find free wi-fi I will have discovered my mistake with the photo galleries. I'm sure you've noticed they're repeating the 2005 vacation photos. Sorry.

Day 8: Kettle Chips from the food co-op. No Pringles.

Mon 24 Jul 2006
(Great Smoky Mountains National Park :: Gatlinburg)
Today we went to the top of Clingmans Dome (written without an apostrophe for some reason), which at 6,643 feet is the highest point in the GSM and the third highest summit east of the Mississippi River. You can drive almost to the top, but then you have to walk up a very steep 0.5 mile trail to the observation tower. And let me assure you, they are not kidding about the phrase "very steep." I'm still out of breath. It was very overcast today so the view wasn't as spectacular as I'm sure it is on a clear day, so between that and my fear of heights I did not tarry too long on the tower.

We stopped at a turnout along the Little Pigeon River to have lunch and do some exploring. This part of the river was beautiful with big rocks that you could walk out on. The banks were lined with rhododendron which are in bloom this time of year. Pretty!

We decided to drive through Gatlinburg on the way back to camp. It wasn't nearly as tacky as Pigeon Forge; touristy, yes, but somewhat better. If we have some time we may go spend a few hours there tomorrow.

When we got back to camp, I decided to take a nap. Glorious. Kris built another campfire and tonight we roasted Tofurkey beer brats. Yummy! Our owl friend paid us another visit tonight by flying through our campsite and landing across the road. A tick fell into my glass of wine, but I drank it anyway (after getting rid of the tick). And of course, we are camped by the only folks in the campground who deemed it necessary to run their generator for a freaking hour tonight. Why me?

Day 9: Flatbread. No Pringles.

Tue 25 Jul 2006
(Great Smoky Mountains National Park)
Today's GSM adventure was a hike to Laurel Falls. All the park literature billed this 2.6 mile hike as "easy." Liars! If the very steep hike to Clingmans Dome was described as "moderate to strenuous" then in my mind "easy" conjurs up images of level ground. Well, it wasn't flat but it wasn't as steep as the previous day's hike and it was truly a nature hike, with lots of flowers and trees and waterfalls and big rocks and very steep cliffs, don't take a bad step, oops. No one fell OFF the cliff, but we did almost tumble DOWN the trail a few times. It rained really hard the night before and this trail, which has been paved to prevent further erosion and is mostly shaded, was slicker than goose shit.

Instead of going to Gatlinburg, I opted for another nap. Another night, another campfire, another visit by the campground owl.

THE PORTABLE A/C STORY: Kris subscribes to several VW camper van email lists. On one list last year, he read about how you could add a portable A/C to one of the windows. Not one who can sleep when it's too hot, he decided this would be a good addition to the Eurovan. So we bought a small portable A/C but didn't have time to make a frame for it. We decided it would be functional enough just to set it in the luggage compartment and point it through the screened part of the pop-up tent. Lucky for us, we never had to test this theory -- the temperatures were so cool on the 2005 Left Coast Vacation that we never unpacked the A/C. But this summer...

...is a different story. Since the temperatures had already been so gawdawful hot, Kris decided to work on a more elegant solution for the portable A/C. After much trial-and-error, some scrap lumber, a vinyl tarp and Velcro, what we have here is an ingenious platform with a "boot" fitted to the A/C and the tent screen (so as to literally not cool the entire outdoors). When the temperature is 112 degrees outside, it makes you appreciate the fact that your husband is a total geek.

It's not hot here up in the mountains, but it is unbelievably damp. Every piece of paper in the van is curling up because of the humidity. I feel waterlogged.

Day 10: No Pringles.

Wed 26 Jul 2006
(Great Smoky Mountains National Park :: Townsend, Tenn. :: Rocky Mount, N.C.)
This morning was all about finding a place to take a shower. (That's the thing about most national parks. The campgrounds are fabulous but most have few or no facilities. This one has flush toilets but no showers, and no electric or water hookups at campsites.) We haven't had a shower since the morning we left Nashville. Who needs bug spray? The bugs are afraid of me right now.

After finding a reasonably clean shower facility in Townsend, we headed for the North Carolina coast. Only we didn't quite make it. We're holed up in Rocky Mount in a Courtyard by Marriott which has wi-fi in the rooms, a nice feature. Tomorrow we head for The Outer Banks. The Weather Channel tells me that the forecast for the coastal area tomorrow is temperatures in the high 80s with a 40% chance of scattered thunderstorms.

About this point into last year's Left Coast Vacation, we had seen dozens of Vanagons, Westfalias and Eurovans. Maybe 1 in every 20 vehicles we passed on the highway was a VW camper of some sort. Certainly there were at least a couple in every campground. That hasn't been the case this year and we're feeling lonely. Only since we have gotten near GSM have we started seeing others of our kind. So far, we've seen one of each. Today we passed a Eurovan Weekender and I was so excited, I waved at them. Which in VW camper van circles is SOP -- you ALWAYS acknowledge another VW van (it's like a secret handshake) -- but this was a really enthusiatic wave.

I still can't get the photo galleries to work like I want them to work. If this keeps up, I'm just going to throw in this year's with last year's galleries. Stay tuned.

Day 11: Taco Bell. No Pringles.

Thu 27 Jul 2006
(Rocky Mount :: The Outer Banks :: Cape Hatteras National Seashore)
North Carolina is a lovely place. Particulary lovely are the rest areas. Without exception, all of them have been pristine. Unlike Texas' rest areas which are essentially prison bathrooms,* North Carolina's rest area facilities are enclosed, staffed, clean and air conditioned/heated. The grounds are beautifully landscaped and the vending areas are plentiful and in working order. They are so inviting, you actually see people hanging out and speaking to other travelers.

(*Think about it. Most are not even completely enclosed, they are certainly not air conditioned or heated, they have metal toilets, little half-doors and they might get cleaned once a week. Might. The vending machines are behind bars and look like someone threw up on them.)

I am "just afraid enough" of heights to be somewhat anxious while driving over bridges that span large bodies of water. So how exactly did I think I was going to get to these barrier islands called The Outer Banks? By driving over not one, not two, but three bridges. I was driving when we reached the first one over the Alligator River. River, my ass, this thing had a wake. The bridge was at least a couple of miles long. The next bridge was over the Croatan Sound and I clocked this one -- exactly five miles long. Holy ****! That was a white knuckle drive for me. We switched drivers before the third and last bridge which, of course, was also the shortest.

Before we reached that first bridge, the georgraphy/topography/whatchacllit-ography is really interesting. You know you're only 30 miles or so from the Atlantic Ocean, but there are swampy, thicket looking areas and along the road are signs such as "Watch for deer," "Watch for bears next 7 miles," and "Red wolf crossing next 10 miles." I was expecting signs more along the lines of "Watch for pelicans" or something like that. Who knew?

We found a campsite at Oregon Inlet on Cape Hatteras National Seashore. This campground has flush toilets and cold showers. Quite a step up for the National Park Service. After getting camp set up, we took a walk on the beach. First impressions: They let vehicles drive on this part of the beach. Bad. There are billions more seashells here than on South Padre Island. Good. Not very crowded. Good. It's only Thursday and the weekend crowds aren't here yet. Bad.

Another odd National Park Service note: When we were checking in and paying our camping fee, I asked Ranger James about beach access and the boardwalks over the dunes, since I had seen hundreds of signs on the way here about not walking on the dunes, which as we all know are living things. Ranger James replied that the campground unfortunately didn't have any boardwalks, so just be careful taking the established "social paths" over the dunes. That wasn't the answer I was expecting. Write your congressperson. The NPS desperately needs money.

Awesome! A red Eurovan just pulled into a campsite across the road from us. It even has a European license plate on the front of it. It may be real Euro van. We'll have to investigate tomorrow.

Tomorrow we are going to visit the Wright Brothers Memorial and Kris is making noise about going hang gliding. I've given him my blessing. (Well, what I think I said was, "You have life insurance, don't you?") We are told by a fellow camper that the weather forecast for tonight is scattered thunderstorms after midnight, and a THI of 103 degrees tomorrow. Criminy. I'm starting to feel damp again.

Day 12: More saltines. No Pringles.

Fri 28 Jul 2006
(Cape Hatteras National Seashore :: Kill Devil Hills)
My day started at 2:32 a.m. when the next door camping neighbors -- now affectionately known as The Drunk Boys -- came back to camp from a night out on the town and proceeded to talk at the top of their lungs and wake the whole damn campground. (I don't think they knew about "quiet hours.") I was just thinking about asking them not very nicely to shut the hell up when someone else in camp took care of it for me.

Approx. 5 p.m. ET: It's too hot for me to think about what to write. The THI today is 102 degrees. I am currently hiding inside a coffee shop drinking an Italian soda waiting for the sun to go down enough to go back to the campsite.

OK, now that I've cooled off enough to reflect on the day's events...

First stop was the Wright Brothers National Memorial, a surprisingly awe-inspiring place. Truly, these men changed the world as we know it today. At the visitor center, we were able to catch the interpretive lecture by one of the park volunteers that was both informative and entertaining. Then we walked up yet another very steep hill to the momument itself which was very beautiful. However, it was bloody hot by this time and despite my attempts at moving slowly and staying cool, I got slightly overheated and felt like crap the rest of the day.

We stopped by Jockey's Ridge State Park where the hang gliding school is located. Lessons were reasonably priced ($89) but take about three hours, so Kris opted not to sign up because of the extreme heat and humidity. Can't say that I faulted him one bit for this decision. Jockey's Ridge itself is the largest sand dune I have ever seen, approximately 90-100 feet high. (I just thought the sand dunes at SPI were big. Ha!)

After that we did a little souvenir T-shirt shopping and seeking out of cool drinks at coffee shops with free wifi. (See first paragraph in today's entry.)

Upon return to the campground, the wind picked up in a manner to which we were not accustomed. It was blowing so hard it was rocking the van back and forth. I never felt like we were in any danger of tipping over, but it was a weird sensation. Apparently, it had been like this at the campground all day, because most of the unattended campers' tents had become unstaked and fallen over or blown away, including one of the The Drunk Boys' tents. Teehee.

Then in the distance we noticed some lightning -- pretty spectacular, too. It seemed like the storm was moving in our direction and sure enough in an hour or so, the wind changed direction (northerly instead of southerly) and the temperature started dropping. We got ready for bed, turned off all the lights and fell asleep to a spectacular lightning display. The rain finally came sometime during the night.

Day 13: No Pringles.

Sat 29 Jul 2006
(Cape Hatteras National Seashore :: Ocracoke Island)
I am making this entry while waiting in line for the free ferry from Hatteras to Ocracoke Island. I've never been on a ferry before. My parents did take me deep sea fishing when I was a child off the coast of Florida, and I puked the entire trip.

On the way to Hatteras, we stopped in Buxton to see the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. It's the black-and-white striped one you see in commercials and if you've been keeping up with current events, the one that was successfully moved 2,900 feet in 1999 so that it wouldn't be swamped by the Atlantic. Quite an amazing feat, I'd say. We opted not to climb this lighthouse since (1) we climbed one last summer in Oregon; (2) the privilege to climb the lighthouse cost $6 and didn't come with a guided tour like the lighthouse in Oregon; and (3) it's very humid today and we decided the inside of that thing would be like a convection oven. No thanks.

The next stop was The Graveyard of the Atlantic Museum in Hatteras, which Kris has been looking forward all week to visiting. There are more than 1,100 shipwrecks off the Outer Banks and the museum houses some of the artifacts from these wrecks, including an Enigma device from a German U-boat. So imagine the total bummer when we arrived to find the museum was CLOSED. On a Saturday. In the summer. Despite all the literature that states the operating hours are from 11 a.m.-2 p.m., the damn thing was closed. A phone call to the recorded message now states that "Museum hours are subject to change." Hmmmm.

Ooh, ooh, we're on the ferry and it's moving. V-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y. And backward. Seems on this particular ferry -- the Frisco -- they load you in one direction then they have to turn around near the dock because the wheel house is pointed the other way. And now we're picking up speed. This is pretty cool. I'm sitting in the front seat of the van with the windows down and seagulls are flying along next to us. Next stop Ocracoke, home of Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard the Pirate. I'm going to go wander around the deck now and take some photos.

What an exhausting day! Ocracoke Village is a very small place with limited parking, so we parked and walked everywhere. We essentially walked across the island, and we certainly walked all the way across the village. Points of interest: Ocracoke Preservation Museum, where we learned some local expressions such as russian rat and wampus cat. The British Cemetery, where four British soldiers were buried in 1942 after their ship was sunk off the coast of North Carolina by a German U-boat; the cemetery has been deeded to England, so technically you are standing on British soil when you visit. Ocracoke Lighthouse, still operational. (If you're keeping score at home, that's three lighthouses on this trip.) Pony Pens, where the Bankers ponies are kept, descendants of Spanish mustangs who were either shipwrecked on the island or left on the island after the Spanish abandoned a settlement.

Back on the ferry to Hatteras -- this time the Chicamacomico, or the "Chimichanga" as dubbed by Kris aka Beavis. There was no puking by anyone on either ferry trip, including yours truly. The ride is actually very smooth, except for one stretch as you near Ocracoke Island where you're more in the Atlantic than in the sound.

Took one last walk on the beach and got our little feetsies wet in the Atlantic. It's a tad more chilly than the Gulf of Mexico, by the way. Then we took a cold water shower in the campground bathhouse (brrrrrr!!!), along with a friendly centipede who was hanging out in the corner.

Day 14: Zen party mix. No Pringles.

Sun 30 Jul 2006
(Camp Hatteras National Seashore :: Nags Head :: Greensboro)
Woohoo! Kris is in hang gliding school right now. The weather is a little cooler this morning, so he went to the 9 a.m. class. I'm sitting in the van in the parking lot at Jockey's Ridge State Park, which is where the school is located, doing Donna stuff. Some folks were having a church service at the group picnic area near me, so I listened to them sing and clap and Amen! a lot. They were quite accomplished singers and I was very entertained. I'll go check on Kris in a bit and see if he's made any successful flights off the big dune yet. The wind is about 10 mph, so that should be good for a few beginner runs off the dune.

After school is over, we're gonna do a little more souvenir shopping on the way off the OBX (that's local talk for Outer Banks), then head back to Asheville for about four days before heading back to Texas.

I walked up the Jockey's Ridge sand dune about 11:30 a.m. to watch Kris' last two flights. I can't describe how hot it is up on top of that sand dune or how unbelievably cool it was to be up there.

Camped out for the night at the supercheap AmeriSuites (which really isn't all that bad for a passable $55 hotel suite) for the sole purpose of having access to the guest laundry and wifi. Wifi access is flawless; guest laundry washer and dryer are occupied. I guess you can't have everything.

We are trying to find some sort of lodging near Brevard starting tomorrow, but are having absolutely no luck because of the Brevard Music Center's summer institute and festival. Oh, and the fact that it's peak tourist season in the mountains isn't helping either. Chances are we'll have to drop back to something not so scenic as a national park or forest.

Day 15: Garlic bread and bad service at Greensboro restaurant. No Pringles.

Mon 31 Jul 2006
(Greensboro :: Asheville :: Brevard)
Dear Loud Family: Although I am sure it was unintentional, I would like to thank you for effectively ruining my camping adventure in this lovely national forest. Instead of listening to the birds and bugs and other fabulous forest noises, I listened to you grow louder and louder as the night wore on. It's one thing to talk and laugh with your family in a campground, but it is quite another to YELL and SCREAM at each other across a table and CLAP and WOOHOO and play some annoying ELECTRONIC GAME THAT BEEPS and IGNORE QUIET HOURS so blatantly that the campground host has to come tell you to be quiet. Enraged, Surly1

By the way, we found a campsite at the Davidson River Campground in Pisgah National Forest. We'll be leaving asap tomorrow.

Day 16: Lots of anxiety. No Pringles.

Tue 1 Aug 2006
(Brevard :: Chimney Rock)
Instead of leaving this campground, we just changed sites. Before leaving on today's adventure, we drove through the rest of the campground until we found a nice site near some quiet-looking old folks. You think I'm kidding; I am not.

Today we went to Chimney Rock Park. For those of you not in the know, not only is it an amazingly lovely place with a great view, but portions of the 1992 remake of "Last of the Mohicans" starring Daniel Day-Lewis were filmed there. Being one of Donna's favorite actors and favorite films, this place was a Must Visit. First we did the touristy thing and took the elevator (yes, elevator) up through the granite mountain and climbed 44 steps to the Chimney Rock and took in the view. Then we hiked UP the Cliff Trail (which is where the four movie locations are), then at the top of Hickory Nut Falls, we picked UP the Skyline Trail and hiked it back to Chimney Rock proper. These are not level trails, mind you. They involve flights of wooden (sometimes rickety) stairs built to get you up to wooden and rock walkways along cliffs lined with chain link fence to keep you from falling off and dying. Did I mention that the first third or so of each trail is significantly uphill? Three hours later, we were absolutely exhausted. My legs are still wobbly.

Spent some time tonight driving around Brevard and sitting in a downtown coffee shop (where I forgot to upload today's travel diary, oops). Brevard looks like a nice place to live. Maybe we should move here and buy Chimney Rock. We found out today it's for sale and the latest offer is only $65 million.

Kris is out trying to build a fire. Normally, he builds a great campfire, but tonight he thought he'd save some time and bought the "fire starter" from the camp hosts. He thought it would be a bundle of kindling, but it was this nasty petroleum product in a plastic bag that you set on top of the firewood and light on fire, then it drips down and ignites the wood. Only it doesn't work and he's a little pissed. I see him out now picking up dead wood for kindling off the ground.

Tomorrow is probably our last day in North Carolina. We discussed a route and itinerary home, but I'll keep that my little secret until it's actually confirmed.

Day 17: Cold pasta and fruit at the coffee shop. No Pringles.

Wed 2 Aug 2006
(Brevard :: Asheville)
I cannot possibly express how sore I am today from the great hiking adventure yesterday at Chimney Rock. When I rolled out of my sleeping bag this morning and stood up, I thought I was going to fall back down.

We made a quick stop this morning at two waterfalls in the Pisgah National Forest -- Looking Glass Falls and Sliding Rock. Looking Glass Falls is one of those places that looks like it should only exist in a photograph. Breathtaking, really. Sliding Rock is just that -- you climb up it and slide down it into a deep pool of water. We didn't go down the "slide," but we had a blast watching others take the plunge.

Our last tourist stop in Asheville was The Biltmore Estate -- an unbelievably beautiful home on possibly more beautiful grounds with amazing gardens. It was interesting to tour this home so close to visiting the Hearst Castle (see 2005 Left Coast Vacation). To oversimplify, Biltmore is formal and the Hearst Castle is homey, but I suppose that can be attributed to the styles and social mores of those generations. You could spend a lot of time on the grounds of Biltmore, more time than we had today.

I am so tired from the last two fun-filled days that I can barely keep my eyes open. Honestly, I'm ready to head home. We're going to leave Asheville tomorrow and go back to Memphis for a couple days to see some things we missed on the way here.

Day 18: Wine tasting at The Biltmore Winery. No Pringles.

Thu 3 Aug 2006
(Asheville :: Memphis)
I should be this lucky at every hotel I stay at. I made reservations at the SpringHill Suites by Marriott because I'm a Marriott Rewards member. (Actually, I made reservations here only because it was the only sort-of reasonably priced hotel room in downtown Memphis that I could find. But I digress.) As I opened the door to our hotel room, I said out loud, "This isn't a non-smoking room." The smell was my first clue, but the ashtrays in the room confirmed this fact. Our reservations were guaranteed for a non-smoking room, and by God, I wanted my non-smoking room! After a quick chat with a different front desk clerk I had what I wanted, and through no effort on my part, much more -- an upgrade to a king suite in the historic Kress Building, which is now part of the hotel. I could learn to live like this.

We made another visit to McEwens's on Monroe, our favorite Memphis restaurant, which was again a good decision. Since dinner, we've just been sitting in the living room of our suite, taking advantage of the wi-fi connection and watching one of the two televisions.

Tomorrow's destinations are Sun Studios, The Stax Museum of American Soul Music and the guest laundry. Woohoo.

Day 19: Wavy Lays. No Pringles.

Fri 4 Aug 2006
(Memphis)
Despite still having a great deal of muscle soreness, I decided it would be a good idea to walk to Sun Studio. It didn't look that far on the map. Really. A quick trolley ride down Main St. then down Beale St. to where it intersects with Union Ave. About four blocks or so past all the clubs.

We never saw a soutbound trolley, so we walked to Beale St. Then we took off the short distance down Beale St. to Union Ave. Well, it was further than it looked on the map. After 1.5 miles through projects, warehouses, body shops and a lot of strange looks, we finally arrived at Sun Studio where we were greeted with more strange looks and a concerned reminder that they had a free shuttle back to Beale St. Oh, thank goodness.

The Sun Studio tour is pretty cool. Our guide, Charlie (female), was quite enthusiastic and knowledgable. You get to listen to lots of the early recordings, then you get to visit the actual recording studio where Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis and even U2 have recorded. You even get to have your picture taken with the actual 1950s-era microphone that Elvis et al. used. That rocked, but the photo of me with the mic needs some serious Photoshop work to remove the massive sweat stains from my T-shirt before it is to be seen by anyone.

Somehow, we missed the free shuttle leaving Sun Studio, so we walked all the way back to Beale St., had some drinks and food at our familiar Alfred's, then went back to the hotel to recover from our three-mile-plus walk through Memphis. After some good A/C time, it was back out for dinner at the Big Foot Lodge, then back for some more downtime.

We didn't make it to the Stax Museum today, so we'll have to catch that the next time we make it to Memphis.

Day 20: French fries. No Pringles.

Sat 5 Aug 2006
(Memphis :: Tyler)
Drove 7.5 hours from Memphis to Tyler today. Hanging out with family eating pizza. Vacation is essentially over and we're just winding our way home slowly.

Day 21: Ruffles have ridges. No Pringles.

Sun 6 Aug 2006
(Tyler)
Faithful readers, thanks for coming along on another vacation adventure. I hope to have those pesky photo galleries working in the next few days. Please visit again to see them; we went to some lovely places and I don't want you to miss out. We're still in Tyler just visiting friends and family today before heading home tomorrow to be reunited with our very-missed hounds.

Day 22: I feel like having a Sonic Blast. But rest assured there will be no Pringles.