Well, that knocked the bastard off

Intrepid explorer at Base Camp 1
What more appropriate quote to commemorate the ascent by yours truly and my trusty sherpa, Sam, to the lofty heights of Biltmore House.  Parking closer to the trail leading up to its south face, we made it to Base Camp 1 before pausing for water.  We agreed that we should have used oxygen but it was too late to change that now.  We headed up the goat track on the left in the picture, marveling at both the view and the temperature which, unusually for the time of year, was above freezing.  By about 40 degrees.
At the higher altitudes, something has been done to the fences and you now approach the summit on the western side of the fence rather than the east.  There is no need to negotiate the knuckle-eating gate, either which will be handy next time I attack the path by bike.
We made sure to touch the wall of the house (I wonder if they know there is a major crack in it) and utter Sir Edmund's famous words. 
Sherpa Sam, heavily burdened with supplies
It was actually a bit dodgy at the top as the place was swarming with people - it being Presidents' Day today (which only public offices and private schools seem to recognise): all those people must have been government employees.  I suspect there was also a "Not My President's Day" rally in downtown Asheville.  As I am not supposed to get within 20' of anyone, it makes negotiating busy places rather awkward and I suspect that any anti-Trump rally would be pretty packed.
And so we returned home, if not to a hero's welcome, then at least to a well-stocked fridge (or it was when we got here).

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where's the teapot?

Insomnia, where is thy stingalingaling? I can't really say I enjoy sleeping as I'm not there to appreciate it.  However, getting up to go to the bathroom at 2:15 and finding that my feeble brain thinks that's it for the night has a certain lack of charm, too.  So, having set myself a couple of deadlines ("If I'm not asleep by 3 a.m., I'm getting up.")  I've been up since 4:05 and what better or more traditional way of celebrating than with a pot of Typhoo.  Not a bag dunked in a mug but a proper laid out on a tray (no lace doily) pot of char complete with milk bottle, spoon and ramekin to drop the bags in when the time comes.  But somewhere hidden deep in the bowels of our expensive kitchen (thanks, Annie) lurks our big green teapot.  I can picture it in every cupboard - up front and centre in the plate cupboard, lurking with the weird half bottles of cooking tequila above the stove, everywhere.  But can I find it?  Nah.  I spread the searc...
Read more

A Last Day of Insanity

A Last Day of Insanity I start chemo at 8 a.m. tomorrow so today involved some last minute stupidity.  I'm supposed to get exercise to stop me feeling tired (they really expect me to believe that?) so I refereed three games at a soccer tournament yesterday and three more today.  I'm too miserly to buy a pedometer / Fitbit so I can only guess at how far I walk, jog, sprint, run backwards during a soccer game but it's not unreasonable to say that, as I don't really stand still much for the duration, I cover maybe 3 miles in a 1 hour game.  So now my legs ache and the muscles in them are slowly tying themselves in knots. The no-alcohol beer regime starts tomorrow and I plan to start tonight as turning up at the hospital with a hangover is generally frowned upon.  I have visions of having something like a football pump of bubbling green acid shot into my belly so I'm sure reality will be better. I'm not allowed processed meat at all (I think it's because all...
Read more

Thank you to my "support group"

The idea of a disease support group has always made me say "no thanks" and I still don't fancy the thought of sitting with a load of other people discussing symptoms.  However, I can't express how grateful I am to the people around me who are propping me up right now.  Susan, of course, is her usual unflappable, patient and understanding self, despite the crap she has to put up with at work.  To have to come home to discover that I have eaten tonight's dinner for lunch can't possibly fill her heart with joy. I enjoy the regular phone calls from Ithaca where we talk about nothing in particular.  Susan's sister Jean keeps me up to date on what's happening in Texas and shares, just a little, her own experiences with cancer.  Folks at school are, as always, curious and cheerful and put up with my actually answering the traditional greeting of "How are you?" honestly.  I feel I owe it to them to tell them I feel like crap, a bit wobbly, starving ...
Read more