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| View from our back yard. |
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Mum Fest reports
Picture-perfect weather helps draw thousands to MumFest opening
---New Bern Sun Journal
The male gospel group we saw performing at The Galley was a highlight--super voices and harmony, ending with the lively O'Jays hit "Love Train" with local place names incorporated.
This year, though, seemed like there was a superfluity of booths with low-end jewelry; Avon, Tupperware, and Mary Kay; and fried turkey legs. One good photographer had a booth...but, this isn't a craft show, after all. Lots of people wearing the GOP candidate stickers, few with the Dems'. Supporters of "A Child is a Gift from God" were across the street from supporters of the "Mountain to Sea Trail." Enjoyed a few minutes watching some youths in a (sanctioned and officiated) wrestling match. We skipped the Christian rock concert in the early evening--with a comparatively steep separate admission charge of $20 ("Kutless having just over 1.5 million albums sold and Sidewalk Prophets fresh from winning New Artist of the Year at the 2010 Dove Awards").
Speaking of charges, lemon shake-ups seemed price-fixed at $5--I think they're $3 at the Ohio State Fair--so I skipped that usual fair favorite. $5 for water, sugar, and half a lemon? That led Tim to suggest one could do an insider's guide to fair concessions, but I think that would involve sampling far too many funnel cakes, bloomin' onions, buttefly potatoes, and sausage sandwiches.
We walked the entire Mum Fest route in gorgeous weather. Then, when we were ready to cross the river to our parked car, the drawbridge seemed to be malfunctioning. Even when no boats were passing, traffic wasn't allowed over. So, with everyone else who'd intended to walk back, we got in the long line for the Water Taxi, starting to feel hot and tired, but enjoying the view.
Finally, the bridge closed, and we trudged back in the line of those leaving the Fest, weary but contented. Weirdly, we were behind the very same four young people whom we'd followed across the bridge TO the event three hours earlier. Mum Fest Twilight Zone?
Hooray for Mum Fest, for the people-watching alone. As we left, one mother said to her family in a Southern accent, "I ain't goin' on no ride." We didn't, either.
---New Bern Sun Journal
The male gospel group we saw performing at The Galley was a highlight--super voices and harmony, ending with the lively O'Jays hit "Love Train" with local place names incorporated.
This year, though, seemed like there was a superfluity of booths with low-end jewelry; Avon, Tupperware, and Mary Kay; and fried turkey legs. One good photographer had a booth...but, this isn't a craft show, after all. Lots of people wearing the GOP candidate stickers, few with the Dems'. Supporters of "A Child is a Gift from God" were across the street from supporters of the "Mountain to Sea Trail." Enjoyed a few minutes watching some youths in a (sanctioned and officiated) wrestling match. We skipped the Christian rock concert in the early evening--with a comparatively steep separate admission charge of $20 ("Kutless having just over 1.5 million albums sold and Sidewalk Prophets fresh from winning New Artist of the Year at the 2010 Dove Awards").
Speaking of charges, lemon shake-ups seemed price-fixed at $5--I think they're $3 at the Ohio State Fair--so I skipped that usual fair favorite. $5 for water, sugar, and half a lemon? That led Tim to suggest one could do an insider's guide to fair concessions, but I think that would involve sampling far too many funnel cakes, bloomin' onions, buttefly potatoes, and sausage sandwiches.
We walked the entire Mum Fest route in gorgeous weather. Then, when we were ready to cross the river to our parked car, the drawbridge seemed to be malfunctioning. Even when no boats were passing, traffic wasn't allowed over. So, with everyone else who'd intended to walk back, we got in the long line for the Water Taxi, starting to feel hot and tired, but enjoying the view.
Finally, the bridge closed, and we trudged back in the line of those leaving the Fest, weary but contented. Weirdly, we were behind the very same four young people whom we'd followed across the bridge TO the event three hours earlier. Mum Fest Twilight Zone?
Hooray for Mum Fest, for the people-watching alone. As we left, one mother said to her family in a Southern accent, "I ain't goin' on no ride." We didn't, either.
Monday, October 4, 2010
High and dry vs. wet.
We're back at the creek after a sweaty-palm landing in thick clouds and rain, with a couple of jolts and a second try at landing by the pilot who said, if not in so many words, "Oops, I missed my turn."
It is good to be on land again, even if it isn't dry land.
The afternoon we got back, I left for the supermarket but turned around mid-stream, so to speak. Brices Creek Road and Madam Moore's were in places awash with overrun that could have deepened to impassable by the time I returned with organic milk and bread. So I went back to trusty ol' Merchant's for hot dogs and (farmer owned) Maola 2%.
School is still canceled in nearby Vanceboro and some other counties due to flooding. The creek rose high enough to cover our dock, but has since receded. It's still over the federal forest marker post, our usual gauge. Saturday was sunny enough for morning tennis but yesterday and today are overcast, cool, and dampish. So I baked cranberry scones for breakfast.
We enjoyed our holiday so much that we are thinking about returning to Grand Canyon in a couple of years to do more hiking, now that we have the lay of the land. We wouldn't mind getting our same cabin again, although within the various accommodation groups, room assignments are allegedly random. This was our view from 6151, Bright Angel Lodge:
Now, even without Photoshop, that's a little deceptive because our window also overlooked a gathering spot for fellow tourists, but we also enjoyed the people-watching (and listening, although most canyon-watchers are remarkably reverent. We did hear one woman sharing with a tour-group companion that her nephew died in a hay baling accident, and her son got hit with both a baseball bat and a golf club in his youth).
For a more hushed and sublime (in the Romantic sense) Canyon experience, we walked a mile to Shoshone Point which a guidebook recommends for its solitude. When we arrived, another couple was just leaving, so we did indeed have the Point and its vista hauntingly to ourselves. Tim did venture out onto the jutting rock (sheer cliff, no guardrails, as in much of the Park) until his acrophobia kicked in. I lingered long enough to shoot video (it pans a little fast--I'm not used to shooting "movies"--so don't get dizzy!) just to share the astounding 350-degree view. However, Blogger's getting errors when I try to upload, so I'll have to do it later.
It is good to be on land again, even if it isn't dry land.
The afternoon we got back, I left for the supermarket but turned around mid-stream, so to speak. Brices Creek Road and Madam Moore's were in places awash with overrun that could have deepened to impassable by the time I returned with organic milk and bread. So I went back to trusty ol' Merchant's for hot dogs and (farmer owned) Maola 2%.
School is still canceled in nearby Vanceboro and some other counties due to flooding. The creek rose high enough to cover our dock, but has since receded. It's still over the federal forest marker post, our usual gauge. Saturday was sunny enough for morning tennis but yesterday and today are overcast, cool, and dampish. So I baked cranberry scones for breakfast.
We enjoyed our holiday so much that we are thinking about returning to Grand Canyon in a couple of years to do more hiking, now that we have the lay of the land. We wouldn't mind getting our same cabin again, although within the various accommodation groups, room assignments are allegedly random. This was our view from 6151, Bright Angel Lodge:
Now, even without Photoshop, that's a little deceptive because our window also overlooked a gathering spot for fellow tourists, but we also enjoyed the people-watching (and listening, although most canyon-watchers are remarkably reverent. We did hear one woman sharing with a tour-group companion that her nephew died in a hay baling accident, and her son got hit with both a baseball bat and a golf club in his youth).
For a more hushed and sublime (in the Romantic sense) Canyon experience, we walked a mile to Shoshone Point which a guidebook recommends for its solitude. When we arrived, another couple was just leaving, so we did indeed have the Point and its vista hauntingly to ourselves. Tim did venture out onto the jutting rock (sheer cliff, no guardrails, as in much of the Park) until his acrophobia kicked in. I lingered long enough to shoot video (it pans a little fast--I'm not used to shooting "movies"--so don't get dizzy!) just to share the astounding 350-degree view. However, Blogger's getting errors when I try to upload, so I'll have to do it later.
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