A Father's Day Weekend to Remember
I had one of the most enjoyable and memorable Father's Day Weekends in a long time. I have the greatest kids who tolerate my idiosyncrasies, wild-hare ideas, and all around off-the-wall plans with grace and aplomb.
They know how much I love the mountains. They know how much I love the mornings. They know how much I love to make their Mom smile and how much I treasure the time I have with them.
So, they got up slightly after 0500 Saturday morning for a road trip. Breakfast in the minivan, the hum of the wheels, and the waking of the dawn across highways & foothills have become family traditions for them.
This was not their first trip to the berry farm, just the first one in a couple of years. They listened attentively to stories of their Mom picking red raspberries at her grandparents' houses in Indiana - lying on her back under the bushes, gorging herself with a treat that would prove itself a true rarity later in life. They hear all about the scratches on their arms from reaching through the brambles and just how much she treasures those times.
We arrive at the farm to find no one there, which is very odd for a morning and even more so for a Saturday morning.
The scenery was like this:
So, we wandered around for a few minutes looking at flowers and scouting out the best berry-picking place, all the while my daughter is combing the cabbage patch looking for Cabbage White caterpillars (she collected seven, most of which are becoming chrysalii on our kitchen counter) and then lit out in earnest search of these:
During most activities such as these, there are little distractions along the way . . .
But in the end we had a little more than a gallon of ripe black raspberries for the enjoyment of the family, including my wife's 96 yr old grandmother (the one under who's bushes the instigator of this endeavor used to gorge and gouge herself with reckless abandon).
We also taught the boys how to harvest rhubarb . . .
Which is another of those non-Southern delicacies to which I was introduced upon meeting my wife's extended family.
I have no idea how my daughter missed this or where she went, but she came back with an elderly couple in tow and searching for the rhubarb. The wife was on an Oxygen cannula and puffing to beat the band, but she was determined to pick herself some rhubarb!
We weighed our produce, found an envelope and left our money by the phone (I certainly hope the owners found it because there was still nobody around!) and climbed into the van.
We proceeded from there up the mountain to the Pisgah National Forest and the fish hatchery (again, no fly rod because I would have no more pictures to share, only fish tales!) and re-introduced the kids to the nature walk and a few other fun things . .
Quite the surprise for all of us to discover the cultivated red raspberries and we each managed a handful from the bushes spread about the gardens.
From there it was further up to Sliding Rock, because the kids had never been.
They had no idea what they were in for . . .
Forty-six degree water in the plunge pool at the bottom. Enough to take your breath away and make you run for sunshine!
This would be my oldest son trying to find his way to the surface to inhale WARM air!
and this would be my daughter & I just after impact - still in shock!
After 3 or 4 trips down the falls, the crowds got stupidly long (45 minute wait) so we decided an early picnic lunch would be just the ticket.
Back down the mountain we lolled until we found one parking space left at a roadside spot and indulged in Peach Punch, Pastrami, Smoked Cheddar, grapes, carrots, and a few other goodies before finding a lifetime find at our feet!
This is a Diana Fritillary, which is a native, albeit seldom seen, in the Western NC & SC woodlands.
The pic is a little out of focus due to the fact that I had a very few seconds to capture it and the wrong lens for the task.
From there it was over to the river again to skip rocks . . .
We explored about 1/2 mile (easily) upstream and down, climbing over downfalls and generally having a blast.
We saw hundreds of Ebony Jewelwing damselflies along both the feeder creek (that runs behind our pond) and "The Big Creek".
I made the kids promise to take me "creek exploring" as often as possible for the rest of my life, with a once/year minimum until the point that they needed a wheel chair to get me to the creek.
They thought I was a little nuts at first (which I probably am), but readily agreed and went on playing.
Me, I had the best Father's Day I can remember!
They know how much I love the mountains. They know how much I love the mornings. They know how much I love to make their Mom smile and how much I treasure the time I have with them.
So, they got up slightly after 0500 Saturday morning for a road trip. Breakfast in the minivan, the hum of the wheels, and the waking of the dawn across highways & foothills have become family traditions for them.
This was not their first trip to the berry farm, just the first one in a couple of years. They listened attentively to stories of their Mom picking red raspberries at her grandparents' houses in Indiana - lying on her back under the bushes, gorging herself with a treat that would prove itself a true rarity later in life. They hear all about the scratches on their arms from reaching through the brambles and just how much she treasures those times.
We arrive at the farm to find no one there, which is very odd for a morning and even more so for a Saturday morning.
The scenery was like this:
So, we wandered around for a few minutes looking at flowers and scouting out the best berry-picking place, all the while my daughter is combing the cabbage patch looking for Cabbage White caterpillars (she collected seven, most of which are becoming chrysalii on our kitchen counter) and then lit out in earnest search of these:
During most activities such as these, there are little distractions along the way . . .
But in the end we had a little more than a gallon of ripe black raspberries for the enjoyment of the family, including my wife's 96 yr old grandmother (the one under who's bushes the instigator of this endeavor used to gorge and gouge herself with reckless abandon).
We also taught the boys how to harvest rhubarb . . .
Which is another of those non-Southern delicacies to which I was introduced upon meeting my wife's extended family.
I have no idea how my daughter missed this or where she went, but she came back with an elderly couple in tow and searching for the rhubarb. The wife was on an Oxygen cannula and puffing to beat the band, but she was determined to pick herself some rhubarb!
We weighed our produce, found an envelope and left our money by the phone (I certainly hope the owners found it because there was still nobody around!) and climbed into the van.
We proceeded from there up the mountain to the Pisgah National Forest and the fish hatchery (again, no fly rod because I would have no more pictures to share, only fish tales!) and re-introduced the kids to the nature walk and a few other fun things . .
Quite the surprise for all of us to discover the cultivated red raspberries and we each managed a handful from the bushes spread about the gardens.
From there it was further up to Sliding Rock, because the kids had never been.
They had no idea what they were in for . . .
Forty-six degree water in the plunge pool at the bottom. Enough to take your breath away and make you run for sunshine!
This would be my oldest son trying to find his way to the surface to inhale WARM air!
and this would be my daughter & I just after impact - still in shock!
After 3 or 4 trips down the falls, the crowds got stupidly long (45 minute wait) so we decided an early picnic lunch would be just the ticket.
Back down the mountain we lolled until we found one parking space left at a roadside spot and indulged in Peach Punch, Pastrami, Smoked Cheddar, grapes, carrots, and a few other goodies before finding a lifetime find at our feet!
This is a Diana Fritillary, which is a native, albeit seldom seen, in the Western NC & SC woodlands.
The pic is a little out of focus due to the fact that I had a very few seconds to capture it and the wrong lens for the task.
From there it was over to the river again to skip rocks . . .
and get a certain camera-shy son's attention by "gently setting" a rather large stone right next to him . . . from about 25 feet away!
It worked!
What can I say? He's impossible to photograph head-on!
And he didn't get nearly as wet as when his sister dropped an even bigger splash bomb right in his face as he was bending over searching for "the perfect skipping stone".
I'm still upset that I missed that shot. He had water dripping off his glasses and she had the biggest grin on her face I've seen in a very long while!
We wound down with a brief conversation riverside about sibling relationships and a photo of one of the hundreds of Eastern Tiger Swallowtails we'd seen throughout the day:
When we pulled out of the parking lot it was 77 degrees and it was already 2 o'clock!
By the time we got home, it was 94!
Sunday afternoon held the promise of a nap and then a jaunt through our neighbors' woods down to "The Big Creek" as the kids call it.
I'm not much for hiking through the woods in flip-flops, but this trip was worth it.
We explored about 1/2 mile (easily) upstream and down, climbing over downfalls and generally having a blast.
We saw hundreds of Ebony Jewelwing damselflies along both the feeder creek (that runs behind our pond) and "The Big Creek".
I made the kids promise to take me "creek exploring" as often as possible for the rest of my life, with a once/year minimum until the point that they needed a wheel chair to get me to the creek.
They thought I was a little nuts at first (which I probably am), but readily agreed and went on playing.
Me, I had the best Father's Day I can remember!
posted by Raymond at Tuesday, June 22, 2010
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