So, here we were on an impromptu visit to North Carolina waiting for the storm to pass. I was determined not to sit around and let the kids watch TV for the next 5 days. We were going to DO things, explore, have family time together.
I searched TripAdvisor for some cheap / free things to do in the area. I had a full day planned for us on Thursday. We were going to tour a Victorian mansion, then picnic at a nearby park at the top of a mountain and go hiking. We would end the day with dinner at my sister's house.
We slept in that morning. I didn't wake up until 9 o'clock. I think I can count the number of times I've slept until nine in the past 10 years on one hand. It was glorious! I packed us lunch and off we went.
We showed up to the Harper House and went in to purchase tickets for the tour. The ticket office was an arts and crafts style house behind the main house. We were greeted by a young woman who rang us up and instructed me to sign their guestbook. "Are y'all from around here?" she asked.
"Nope. We evacuated from Charleston yesterday."
"Well, we are glad you're here."
I thanked her and we followed her to the main house. It was like a private tour, just me and the girls. The house had been restored beautifully and we oohed and ahhhed over the printed wallpaper, the Victorian toys and the intricate details in every corner of the house.
We are a little obsessed with house tours and my children have been dragged along with us to so many. They have toured every plantation house and house museum in Charleston, Mount Vernon, Monticello, Montpelier, the Biltmore, the Adams house in Deadwood. There are so many on our bucket list: the Winchester Mystery House, Falling Water, Winterthur, John Adam's homestead, the Breakers.... I need to see them all!
After our tour we went back to where the ticket office was. It was a private residence built in 1912 that was moved to it's current location. We toured it as well. It reminded me of our house in Indianapolis. We owned a 1920's arts and crafts bungalow. It had plaster walls, all the original built-ins, a white picket fence, porch swing and rope and pulley windows. I loved that little house. I can't believe that it's been 10 years since we left there.
Anyway, in the basement of the building was a small museum that had artifacts from the emergency polio hospital that was there in the 40s. They had an iron lung, an old wheelchair, a book with a list of patients (because that was before HIPPA), and a pair of leg braces. When my 12 year old saw the leg braces she turned to me and asked, "Did Forrest Gump have polio?"
"I don't think so."
There was a movie playing on a loop about the polio epidemic. The kids were fascinated by it, which surprised me. They both sat down and watched the polio movie. It talked about the emergency hospital and how devastating it was for children. I think my kids were traumatized. After the credits rolled they turned to me with their eyes wide.
"Mom, do you think WE are going to get polio?"
"No, people in the US don't get polio anymore."
They seemed relieved.
By the time we left it was almost 1 pm and we were getting hungry. We drove 20 minutes to a park at the top of a mountain. It was beautiful. There was a picnic shelter at the entrance and we unpacked our cooler and ate sandwiches and snacks. It was breezy and cool. Fall weather. It was a nice change from the eternal summer that is Charleston.
The girls chatted in-between bites and my 12 year old teased her little sister. "I bet there's clowns in these woods."
"You shut up!" she spit back.
After lunch we decided to go hiking. I saw online that there was a little waterfall and an overlook at the very top of the mountain. There was a board with a map posted of different trails. A park ranger happened to be available and I asked him what trail we should take to see the waterfall.
"Well, I wouldn't call it much of a waterfall but you should take the blue trail. It will pass by it and take you to the overlook."
I glanced back at the map. The blue trail was 1.2 miles. Seemed easy enough. What's a mile? We make 7 year olds run a mile in elementary school gym class. A mile is easy.
I walked into the woods, following the blue trail - just me and my girls. We were not 5 feet in when we heard rustling all around us. My 12 year old got FREAKED out. "What is that? No, we can't go in." I rolled my eyes. "It's just acorns falling out of the trees. Look!" I said, picking one up. They were huge, Chernobyl-sized acorns.
She was not buying it. She sat her behind in the middle of the trail, crossed her arms and refused to get up. "This is creepy. I'm not going." I called her on her bluff. "Okay," I said and continued to walk. I got six feet away from her when I heard the thumping of footsteps behind me trying to catch up. "I hate you, mom."
"No you don't."
She loosened up eventually. My 10 year old found a walking stick and wandered along like Gandalf. My 12 year old gathered leaves. They stopped periodically to take pictures for Instagram. We got to the waterfall which was more like a drizzle over some rocks. It was still beautiful. I was pleased, we were enjoying the fresh air together and the worries of the word were behind us.
Then, things started getting creepy. We came across what were the remains of a cabin in the woods. There were 3 crumbling fireplaces and part of the foundation was still visible. There was a plaque by it that we stopped to read. We went further and there were these small piles of rocks stacked randomly here and there. That's weird, I thought. The kids didn't mention it and we were halfway there so we kept going.
We turned a corner and in the middle of the trail were 3 piles of leaves that had been brushed into a pile 6 feet long and 4 feet high.
I stopped in my tracks. I bet there is dead bodies under those leaves. That's the kind of shit I think about. I wanted to turn around and run screaming out of the woods but didn't want to freak out the kids. Besides, we were so far in that it would take just as long to get out than to keep going. I mean, surely they weren't dead bodies. "Don't step in the piles of leaves, girls. Just go around them." You know, just in case they were dead bodies.
We walked around them and kept going. At that point the trail was straight uphill. We were struggling. We'd climb and then rest, climb and then rest. We were out of breath and I kept telling the kids "We're almost there" to keep them going. I mean, we had to be. We were walking forever. There were more piles of rock. It was some Blair Witch type of shit. We finally were at the end. The kids were exhausted. "C'mon guys! We're not going to let this mountain conquer us! We are going to conquer the mountain!" They gave one final push and we finally made it to the lookout. I don't know who calculated the path but it felt like more than a mile.
We stood at the lookout and looked off into the horizon. We could see all the mountains and trees. It was beautiful.
We laid on the wooden planks of the lookout and stared at the sky for a while. The blue trail had whooped our asses. It looked like it would be getting dark soon so we got up to make our way back. We took the orange trail that was half a mile down hill. There were no creepy dead-body-leaf piles on the orange trail. Thank goodness.
We walked out of the woods almost 3 hours after we had gone in. The girls were cheering. "We survived the mountain!" Just barely. We passed the park ranger on our way back to the car. I was annoyed at him. Why didn't he warn me that the hike was horrible? He saw I was alone with two kids. I later looked on the website that described the hike as "strenuous". That's putting it mildly.
We picked up my 5 year old nephew and headed to my sister's house to make dinner for her. He is so adorable. He was telling me that we needed to go to Washington D.C. the following day to see the Abraham Lincoln statue. I told him "We'll see." We didn't get to my sister until 7. She has her hands full with a one month old and a 2 year old. She is living my exact life 10 years ago. I made spaghetti and salad while my daughters passed the baby between them. The boys played with toys and rough housed.
After dinner, I sat on the couch and I could barely keep my eyes open. There was no way that I would be able to drive back to where we were staying on the dark country roads with my kids in the car. I decided to be safe and stay put.
My girls played with the little ones for a while and then settled in to watch TV. The baby started being cranky, because that's what babies do. My 2 year old and 5 year old nephews were being a unruly. I will put these young children to bed, I thought. It will be easy. "I'll take care of these two," I told my sister who gave me a look that said, Thank Jesus.
I tucked the 2 year old into bed and turned on his lullaby toy-thing he has. Then I made a pallet for the 5 year old and laid down next to him. "It's bedtime."
"I don't want to go to bed."
"You have to."
The 2 year old got up and was standing in front of the closed door calling for his mama. I got up, picked him up and put him back in bed. "Mama's taking care of the baby. Time for bed."
Back to the 5 year old who still insisted that it was not bedtime. "How about I tell you a story and rub your back?"
He thought for a minute. "Okay."
The two year old was up again. I told the 5 year old to hold tight and I got up and put him back in his bed. "I love you. Good night!"
Back to the 5 year old. "What story do you want?
"The Three Little Bears."
"Okay. Once upon a time there was a cabin in the woods..."
"NO. That is not the Three Little Bears."
The 2 year old was up again. "Hold on..." I got up and put the 2 year old back in his bed. "Go to sleep now." Back to the 5 year old. "There were Three Little Bears that lived in the woods..."
"NO. That's not the story!!!!"
I was so tired, I was dying. "Just listen to the story and close your eyes!"
He finally relented and let me tell my version of The Three Bears.
I don't know who fell asleep first-me or him. All I know is that I was awoken my my oldest daughter nudging me. "Mom, come sleep with us!" I don't actually remember getting up but I woke up the next morning in the guest bedroom sandwiched between my children. It was a good place to be.
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