Brevard III: Season of the Leaf

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Ah, nothing like visiting Transylvania during Hallowe'en. Bat country. Gotta love it.

This is our third attempt at visiting Brevard, NC to see the autumn colors. Our first attempt was about two weeks early. The second attempt was about a week late. Hopefully, this time we've timed it right.

The problem with the autumn colors is that they are very dependent upon the weather leading up to Peak Leaf Season. It also depends on how north you are and how high up you are. But I picked this week, and hopefully, it'll be just right.

We left early this morning for the twelve hour drive to Brevard. The only downside to the entire trip was lunch at the Western Sizzler just outside Savannah, Georgia. I ordered a cheeseburger medium rare, not steak tartare au fromage on a bun. Bunny's food was seriously underseasoned. Even the salt was underseasoned. Not a pleasant experience.

We finally arrived at our destination, The Red House Inn. Previously, we've stayed at The Inn at Brevard (on the opposite side of town) but this time I felt it was time to shake things up and try a new place. The Inn At Brevard gives off a definite 1900 period vibe, which is not a bad thing, but The Red House Inn (built in 1851) is a bit more modern. The owners welcomed us and when we told them the reason for our visit, they did say they felt that Brevard was just breaking Peak Leaf Season. Perfect timing! Woot!

We were then shown to our suite I rented. It's about half the second floor, with its own hallway, bedroom, bathroom, living room and private porch. It is certainly worth its price. We dumped our bags, and headed out for dinner.

A little bluegrass, a lot of food

The Red House Inn is just a few blocks from downtown Brevard, so Bunny and I decided to walk to dinnner. Our first choice of venue was The Square Root, as it has become a tradition to eat there for our first dinner. Unfortunately, they now close on Tuesdays. The owners of the Red House Inn then recommended Jamie's, a new Creole restaurant that opened a little over a week ago in downtown Brevard.

So Bunny and I walk. Along the way we pass Celestrial Mountain Music, a music and musical instrument store where there were a dozen musicians sitting in a circle playing bluegrass music.

[Even with an artificial arm he can still play a mean fiddle.]

They saw us peering in the window; the bass player leapt across the store and into the street, welcoming us to just listen in as they played. Despite wanting to get to dinner before the sidewalks were rolled up at 9:00 PM we did stay for one musical number before bidding adéu to continue our journey to Jamie's.

It's a popular restaurant and we had to wait a few minutes for a table to open up.

[It's a popular spot for just being a week old.]

Bunny ordered a shrimp and corn chowder that was quite good. The lump crab salad appetizer was okay (but then again, it's hard to match the crab from Capp's Place). I had the rib-eye steak (an overly generous portion) with mushrooms and grilled corn, which was one of the better rib-eyes I've had. Bunny ordered the French cut chicken with tabouleh and winter vegetables. While her chicken was one of the moistest pieces of white meat (it was expertly cooked) the taste was … there. It wasn't much to write home about. The winter vegetables were a bit underdone but the tabouleh was delicious.

[A salt cellar? In a restaurant? For patrons? Unheard of!]

For desert, we ordered the beignnets. While I found them quite good (very light, not overly sweet) Bunny found they didn't quite quench her desire for fried dough.

Over all, we were glad to try the restaurant, but I don't think we'll be making it a regular destination.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Locks, stalks, and two near accidents

I had put it off as long as I could, but there was nothing more I could do to delay the inenvitable. Pulling me along by the ear, Bunny lead me into the local barber shop.

After the indignity of having my locks shorn, Buny decided to head to the local grocery store to pick up a few essentials. The local grocery store in this part of the country is Ingles, a store the size of Wally World but with the charm of Publix. No wonder Publix hasn't made it this far north. The Ingles had miles of shelves. There was an olive bar a mile long. We live in Boca Raton and do we rate olive bars in our grocery stores? Nay! Nay, I say! How does Brevard, a small town in rural North Carolina, rate an olive bar? And freshly made locally sourced Mozzarella?

But I digress! Bunny got the essentials she so dearly wanted: hot chocolate and fresh flowers for the room.

I must now talk about traffic.

Unlike South Florida, there aren't many thoroughfares in town—in fact, there's only one—Broad Street (also known as US-64, US-276 and Asheville Highway, but unlike Orlando, it's clearly marked at all times). And that's practically the only street with traffic lights. Sure, Main Street (which crosses Broad Street) has a few lights, but the majority of traffic lights are along Broad Street. The rest of the roads in Brevard are primarily two lane roads with a plethora of stop signs.

And the traffic isn't that heavy, even at rush hour.

Okay, given that there are around 33,000 people in the county (compare to nearly 90,000 just in Boca Raton proper) there just isn't much heavy traffic (unlike Alamo, Nevada). But the traffic is annoyingly consistent though—just when you think you can go, suddenly a string of cars show up (my friend Chuck would say they exhibit a Poisson distribution). In retrospect, it's not that surprising that I nearly caused two accidents today. In my defense, the preponderance of trees (real trees, not stalk like palm trees) and hills (hills, people! Hills! Not the unending flatness of South Florida) makes for some challenging sightlines.

In the first near-accident I was trying to drive through an intersection (no traffic light) and narrowly missed being T-boned by a car (oops). The second near-accident happened as I was pulling out of The Red House Inn parking lot and nearly T-boning a passing car (oops).

Self-driving cars can't get here quick enough.

Extreme lawn ornaments, Brevard edition

Some people decorate their lawns with garden gnomes. Others use plastic pink flamingos.

In Brevard, it appears cows are the lawn ornaments of choice.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

The Devil gets his due

Located at milepost 422.4 of the Blue Ridge Parkway, the Devil's Courthouse has a short but strenuous trail climbing a half mile to its peak with wonderful panoramic mountain views (see photo above). The mostly paved trail starts from the overlook parking area beside the mountain.

Devil's Courthouse, North Carolina

A “strenuous trail” it says. A “half mile to its peak” it says. “Mostly paved.”

Ha!

Strenuous for someone used to hiking mountain trails. Pure insanity for someone used to the flat paved parking lots of Florida.

Sure, it's mostly paved. I would say about two-thirds of the way up is paved, at an incline of 13° (I measured it with an app on my smartphone), which doesn't sound like much, but you try to walk over a quarter mile on a 13° incline. Every ten feet or so is a small bump across the paved path. I suspect it's to stop people when they stumble and start rolling downhill.

The last third or so of the path is gravel and loose rocks at the same 13° incline, making a fun game of “Break the Ankle!” And then, when you think it can't get any worse—stairs!

“Strenuous” indeed!

The day started out beautifully. Not a cloud in the sky, a bit brisk, and a leasurely drive out of Brevard, up US-276 North to the Blue Ridge Parkway. The drive along US-276 was an explosion of colors here and there—we definitely caught the tail end of Peak Leaf Season.

Once on the Blue Ridge Parkway, we stopped at the Pisgah Inn for lunch. Bunny ordered the Turkey, Brie and Apple Wrap with a side of pumpkin soup (“It's like slurping a pumpkin pie,” she said) and I ordered the char broiled whole trout, filleted tableside. It was quite delicious.

[He does this at least 300 times a year. And he's good at it.]

After lunch (desert—homemade blackberry cobbler), we headed south along the Blue Ridge Parkway towards the Devil's Courthouse. The drive was nerveracking. All I wanted to do was rubberneck at the passing vistas around every curve, but at the same time, I couldn't move my eyes off the road, lest I launch headlong into a cliff or worse, launch headlong off a cliff. Bunny was trying her best not to “Ohh” and “Ahh” too much.

We did stop a few times at some overlooks. At one, we caught two guys tracking a bear with hand-held radio equipment (it became clear that the bear must have been radio tagged) and a serious camera. Bunny and I never did see the bear.

Eventually, we reached our destination, The Devil's Courthouse.

[This is from our starting point. Our final destination is that mountain peak in the distance.]

Well, the base of The Devil's Courthouse. We still had that halfmile hike to contend with.

Once you reach the top, the view is spectacular!

You would think that once at the top, it would be easy going down. The stairs were hard, seeing how they were broken slabs of rough hewn rock. Then the gravel portion was tricky to keep your foot from shooting out from beneath you on loose gravel. But in an ironic twist, walking down that 13° paved incline was just as bad as going up. You have to lean back to keep from tumbling down, so your feet plop down at this extended angle that's tiring. It's a different tiring than trugding up the trail, but it's tiring nonetheless. I actually found it easier to walk backwards down the trail, but as Bunny mentioned, you can't see where you are going.

Did I mention that view?

Sean of the Shorn Locks

And because a few of you asked to see the results of my recent haircut, here you go:

Taken as I rested on the never-ending half-mile mountain trail from Hell.

Extreme window displays, Brevard edition

Presented entirely without context (because I saw it entirely without context): a bear wearing a blonde wig.

[Do not ask why the bear is wearing a blonde wig. The bear does not need a reason to wear a blonde wig. Besides, would you just walk up to a bear wearing a blonde wig and ask? Perhaps if you were Chuck Norris. Or Squirrel Girl. Then again, Squirrel Girl could kick Chuck Norris' butt, so of course she would ask. But you are neither Chuck Norris nor Squirrel Girl (probablistically speaking—I seriously doubt Chuck Norris or Squirrel Girl read my blog).]

Friday, October 31, 2014

Easy does it

Bunny and I were still a bit sore from yesterday's small hike so we took it a bit easy today. We just walked a few blocks to downtown Brevard, had lunch, did a bit of shopping, and headed back to The Red House Inn, where I did a Nestea plunge into the bed. A few minutes later, Bunny informed me I had slept for about an hour.

Oh.

We finally ate at The Square Root, which was, as always, very good.

Extreme teddy bears, Brevard edition

It's not every day you get to see a life-sized teddy bear just sitting on a park bench. Unless you happen to be in Brevard, in which case, you will see a life-sized teddy bear just sitting around.

[Just sitting there. Like nothing out of the ordinary. But just how often do you see a life sized teddy bear wearing a propeller beanie?]

Saturday, November 01, 2014

Walking in a winter wonderland

We woke up to find snow outside.

Snow.

Snow!

The last time I saw snow was in 1998, trudging through 20° weather in Boston, at night, ever on the lookout for the next subway station, which was inexorably “just around the corner.”

Fortunately, the snow was a light dusting over Brevard, and most of it was gone by late monring.

Unfortunately, we were not ensconced under three feet of blanket, but instead, we found ourselves trudging through 30° weather in Brevard, in the early moring, ever on the lookout for a farmers market, which was inexorably “just around the corner.”

Okay, I kid. It was several blocks from The Red House Inn, but due to the weather and the fact that some parts of Transylvania County experienced several inches of snow, the number of sellers at the Transylvania Farmers Market was severely curtailed to about ten ~~foolhardy~~ brave vendors.

The rest of the day was spent under three feet of blanket.

Snow!

Extreme shower stalls, Brevard edition

just because The Red House Inn was built in 1851 does not mean it doesn't have modern amenities. Just look at the shower in our suite!

Sunday, November 02, 2014

Extreme retro televsion, Brevard edition

It was another lazy day here in Brevard but Bunny and I came across this really cool retro-style television at Rocky's Grill and Soda Shop.

[It was showing an episode of The Jetsons but it cut to commercial just as I was taking a picture.]

Monday, November 03, 2014

An explanation for the non-Euclidian space known as Asheville

Today, Bunny and I headed north east to Berkeley of the East, which houses the Western North Carolina Farmers Market (given that the one in Brevard was rather lackluster due to weather).

It's a risk driving to Asheville, given that each time we've driven in that area, Bunny and I get into shouting matches over where we are going and where we currently are located. I think I know why this is now—unlike Orlando which is a maze of roads, each of which have five different names which are never all listed, Asheville is vastly smaller than I think it is.

Back in the late 70s, when I lived in Brevard, Asheville always appeared on maps and even globes, so it became this huge metropolitan capital-C City in my mind as a kid. Something on par with New York or London or even Detroit. Mind you, I never actually saw Asheville, so I never had a chance to experience it until just a few years ago, with a badly drawn map that had absolutely no scale to it, which made navigation a “Fun Time” between Bunny and me.

In reality, Asheville is about twice the area of Boca Raton and about 6% fewer people and it still hasn't really sunk in. Namely because in this area, Asheville is huge, but where I come from, it's about average for a city.

Weird how that works.

Anyway, we had lunch at The Moose Cafe, right at the entrance to the farmers market. Food wise, it's like an organic version of The Cracker Barrel (figures—it's Asheville!) with about the same prices (given that it's practically on top of a farmers market, it's no wonder). It was quite good—can't really complain about the food or the service.

The farmers market itself wasn't terribly busy, but unlike Brevard's farmer market, it's held every day and is less hurt by inclement weather, not that today was inclement. Crystal blue sky and in the low 60s–not terrible weather given it snowed just a few days prior.

We picked up some produce (an 8 pound cabbage head! Carrots a foot long!) and made an uneventful ride back to Brevard.

Extreme stuffed animals, Asheville edition

Not to be outdone in the overly sized stuffed animals, Asheville stepped up to the plate with a 7′ stuffed moose.

Just because.

[Note that I am aiming slightly up to get this picture of a stuffed moose. And also note that I couldn't fit the entire thing in the picture.]

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Judy Collins rock, or something like that

Our plans to have lunch with an old friend of mine fell through, so we found ourselves with a day sans plans. Bunny suggested we just head west to see what we could find, and with that nudge, I remembered two locations west of Brevard that we could visit.

First up, The Carolina Smokehouse, a pit-BBQ restaurant in Cashiers, NC we visited a few years ago and liked. Since we were headed that way anyway, that was as good a place to have lunch as any place. If you find yourself in that neck of the woods, it's a good place to stop off for some good barbecue.

After lunch, we turned north to Judaculla Rock, a large stone with a huge number of petroglyphs carved into it—the most in a stone found anywhere east of the Mississippi.

[It's hard to make out the petroglyphs due to erosion but they're there, all 100 or so.]

Despite being the middle of nowhere, it was easy to find as it was well marked with signs leading to its location, although parking was nearly non-existant, as it was sitting off the side of a dead-end road leading to a private residence.

Judaculla was a Cherokee god of hunting, and one of the petroglyphs is supposedly of his hand when he jumped down from his mountain home and used the rock to steady his landing. Also, The Devil's Courthouse is also known as “Judaculla's Judgement Seat,” supposedly where he judged the courage or virtue of the Cherokee.

We then made sure to drive back before it got dark. It's thrilling enough to drive the hairpin turns to keep from slaming into or off of the cliffs (or oncoming traffic) in full daylight; night time driving would crank that up to eleven.

Tomorrow, we head back south to Chez Boca …

The Boston Diaries

Tuesday, October 28, 2014