Tag Archives: blue ridge mountains

A Fun Post with Lists and Numbers and Stuff. Ice Cream Too.

Nibble Nook

Fair thee well, dear Nibble Nook

Tonight marks the end of my time at Ridgecrest. It’s been a unique experience and something both completely unexpected as well as completely different from everything else I’m doing this trip.

I wanted to do a by-the-numbers thing, so I did it below, starting with 26. It ended up being more numbers than I anticipated, but I’m a freaking trooper so I finished it.

Next stop: D.C. by way of Charlotte.

26 different flavors of ice cream tried (my favorite: extreme moose tracks – chocolate ice cream on chocolate fudge on  chocolate chunks. Insulin not included.)

25 minutes to hike to the top of Royal Gorge Lookout, where I arrived sweating and out of breath but thankful for the beauty of the earth and strong arms for dipping ice cream.

24 cups of coffee every three days (8 cups a day) (it’s an addiction).

23 or so volunteers that are wonderful, kind people who helped me understand how difficult facebook is to use and let me in on the secrets of life they’ve learned through the years.

22 physical miles and 10,000 cultural miles to Asheville, NC.

21 is the drinking age in the US. I did not drink any alcohol this past week, which was great news for my wallet.

20 years until I turn 45, which is still young according to the other volunteers.

19 miles hiked at least, all of it solo. No bear bites!

18 dollars spent on a hamburger at the Grove Park Inn. I ate the entire thing, an entire biscuit, and all the fries. I immediately wanted to vomit but hate wasting money.

17 seconds – the amount of time I spent considering stealing a towel from Ridgecrest. I decided against it because it was white and would look very dirty after just a short while. Also, it’s wrong.

16 times I laughed to myself when I thought of how close the Nibble Nook is to being the Nipple Nook.

15 eggs eaten at least. Probably more like twenty, but twenty was already taken in this listicle.

14 reasons to come back next year and seven to never return ever again.

13 hours of straight rain. And then another 48.

12 different buildings to get lost in and / or play hide and go seek in (full disclosure: not sure if it’s actually twelve).

11 o’clock is time to play Bananagrams with the ladies.

10 o’clock is thirty minutes until closing time at the Nipple Nook.

9 accidental curse words or other cultural faux pas that my filter let slip through.

8 days in Baptist territory. No alcohol allowed, and nothing weird preferred.

7 chapters written in my cheesy romance novel featuring a budding relationship between a Nibble Nook volunteer and a boy’s camp counselor. I won’t ruin the ending for you.

6 o’clock is dinner time! Most days featured food that was half fried into oblivion, baked well past done, or sauteed in butter until it lost all its senses. This is not the place to come for your diet.

5 hours of solo hiking wearing forest-colored clothing during what may have been bear hunting season. Also, no one knew where I was. Also, I didn’t know where I was.

4 different people’s detergent I used in the laundry room. I hadn’t brought any and figured I’d spread the burden.

3 hours spent driving to and from Mt. Mitchell in terrible fog on windy roads. This was probably the closest I came to dying.

2 new facebook friends (at least).

1 unique experience I will carry with me until I birth something creative from it, and then I’ll carry that creative thing with me until the day I die.

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Sorry to Spoil it For You, but I Die in the End

the world goes on

the world goes on

Did you know that it rains almost every afternoon here in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and that bear hunting season is from November through January 2nd? Did you know that these forests have gross centipedes and tons of bugs and flies and rhododendrons whose white flowers then turn a sickly gold color when they fall off?

Did you know that (some) people from the south add the prefix Miss to first names of women, so Emily becomes Miss Emily and Myra becomes Miss Myra? Well it’s true. It’s all true.

It’s hard to know what to believe sometimes, or what’s worth taking a stand on. Hard to know where the truth can be found or where you’re better off just picking an opinion and justifying it with whatever you have at hand though in the end you know it’s just your gut that tells you so.

What is young? What is old? Is there only younger and older or are old and young set in stone, or are those things you tell yourself to make sense of how you feel? How much of me is tied to my body and my ability to do things like sleep on the bus for 3 hours and then spend an entire day walking around a new city? If I can’t do that anymore, am I still me?

When is the right time to be afraid? What is there to be afraid of? Has fear ever helped me become more of the person that I want to be?

Where are the limits to my own crapabilities?

I looked out over the Blue Ridge Mountains today, over Buncombe county and I saw the rolling blue peaks and the sun rising over them and a cloudy sky that looked kind of like water. I wanted to feel at peace and to feel serene like everything was going to be okay. When I was younger, I used to be able to do that, to zoom out until I was looking down at myself from the stars and I was so tiny and everything was going to be okay because the world would go on after I was gone.

Now that I’ve gotten older, it’s harder to zoom out, to remember how fast this life will go by and how my to-do list and goals and priorities will go away just as fast as I will. As I’ve grown older, so has my sense of self-importance.

There’s so much to know, but I will only know some of it. There’s so much to see, but I will only see some of it. And the world will go on as usual.

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Why Does My Mouth Taste Like Garlic and Other Deep Questions Inspired by the Blue Ridge Mountains

Blue Ridge Mountains

Blue Ridge Mountains

Why does my mouth taste like garlic?

Who’s more of an animal, me or the black bear I saw this morning?

When I touch a rock on top of Rattlesnake Point, does the rock touch me back?

Is life an infinite amount of moments or one long moment?

Are all trees part of one big tree that is slowly spreading across the earth and will eventually sprout from our abdomens?

Do flies get annoyed by their own buzzing?

If the Blue Ridge Mountains are actually green but only appear to be blue, does that mean there is no truth?

If a straight line is the shortest distance between two points, and straight roads are impossible to find in the mountains, does that mean beauty is inefficient?

If I put my clothes into the dryer to make them less wet, and put a dehumidifier in my room to make the air less damp, does that mean that dryers are dehumidifiers for clothes?

Do the trees ever get tired of humans wondering if they make a sound when they fall down?

If someone told me that the Blue Ridge Mountains are the oldest mountain range in the world, and I believe them, does that make it true?

Can I control things with my mind?

If I talk to the trees, does that make them my friends?

If a woman falls down in the forest and starts screaming, but there’s no one to hear her scream, is she actually screaming?

What’s worse, dying by bear attack, or dying having never been attacked by a bear?

What’s for dinner?

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