We left for South Carolina after Nema got out of work on Wednesday evening. We rolled out around 8 pm. It was a fairly uneventful drive. We combined our gas stops with our pee breaks and made good time. In the early morning we stopped at a rest area in North Carolina. Charlotte hopped out of the car while I was still gathering myself together. She told me to come over to her side of the car and look “It’s like gummy worms have come to life.” Disgusting. I didn’t have to go to her side of the car as the ground was a carpet of moving, wiggly white grubs, giant maggoty looking things. Some where squished and the rest were going this way and that, climbing over each other. Some had even got in the buildings. It was a real horror show. They were the larvae of the shiny June beetle or some such thing. Absolutely not for me. We danced and pranced our way to the bathrooms trying not step on any. We made it to my sister, Annie’s, in Upstate South Carolina, before noon.
This was a good thing as back while we were in the White Mountains living our vagabond life, my niece, Savanna had video called me. She had asked the important things about our site: were there any good climbing trees around, which, silly me, I had forgotten to check. There weren’t. We talked about how I was thinking of something special to do for Megan and my anniversary. Savanna decided we could have a very special tea party for us when we got to South Carolina. We planned the thing together, what colors guests should wear and if the dress code would be casual or fancy. We had to go with casual as we were packing light and fancy clothes were not making it into my pack. Market Basket grocery stores, local to only Massachusetts and New Hampshire, I think, has some store brand items that beat all others, name brands included. Savanna told me what I should pick up from there before we came. We planned out the menu and then for entertainment everyone had to pick their favorite poem and recite it aloud to all of the guests. After which we would play hide and seek. She also needed this party to happen on Thursday afternoon because my sister Lyra, who we meet up with in Arkansas, was coming east to join us for the weekend. Savanna is best buds with one of her girls and she wanted a distraction for the waiting for Lyra and family.
We were tired, as you can imagine from driving all night and at this point being awake for more than 24 hours, but we were all in good enough spirits to enjoy the tea party. We ate good food and fantastic poetry was read: "You Rise and Meet the Day" by Dar Williams, "The Road not Taken" by Robert Frost, "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus, "Song of Aragorn" by Tolkien, "Fire and Ice" by Frost, Savanna read a poem that she and I wrote together, "The Highwayman" by Alfred Noyes. "Fog" by Carl Sandburg "Leave Me Here Crying " by Federico Garcia Lorca, and "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening " by Frost. I might have just been overtired, but I was moved to tears by all the poems. We then played some rousing rounds of hide and seek. I haven’t played that for real in a while. Later, Megan and I jumped in the pool with Savanna, Shanna, and Charlotte. They like to spook me out and do it quite easily so everyone had fun except for me.
Lyra and family arrived later, with puppies, and mayhem ensued. Megan and I slept in Annie and Adam’s fifth wheel and we were glad of it when everyone told us how little sleep they got in the house because the dogs were having a wild time. My niece, Julia, and I played in the pool for hours on Friday. We had a handful of change that we would scatter around the pool and then have to find on the bottom. It’s surprisingly tricky to spot them and get them all back. While we were doing this we had an elaborate play going on. I was one character and Julia played five or six. We were treasure hunters. At first Tommy Jackson was helping me but he made off with some of the treasures so I had to keep calling in more help. As it kept turning out everyone I called really belonged to the Johnson Clan who lived on the corner of Tickleback Creek. They were all shysters and were stealing my treasures instead of helping me. I was a treasure hunter who was hired by some rich person to find it for them. Eventually Julia suggested that I call “your best friend, Julia, to help” which I did. And, as luck would have it, as soon as Julia got into character as herself we found the last remaining coin in like five seconds. So lessons were learned: when in trouble call your best friend.
My sister, Eve, from Tranquility in North Carolina came down with one of my nephews. So six of us eight sisters were all in one place. We all went up to Hendersonville and then to Asheville, NC. Annie knew this funky little restaurant called “All Day My Darling” They were super allergen aware. I had a gluten free fried chicken sandwich with fermented veggies which I think was the best fried chicken sandwich I’ve ever eaten. Being that it was gluten free, that’s quite a feat. Of course, it might have been the company and atmosphere that made it taste so good. We had a long lovely conversation over lunch. As we were leaving, a group of older ladies stopped my sister, Lyra, and asked her if she was the director of a non-profit and if we were her board. They said they couldn’t help but to listen to our conversation while they ate and I guess we impressed them.





Asheville, NC
After lunch, we went and walked along the Broad French River in the Arts District. It was lovely. We met an old gray man with a wild white beard who was giving some kind of speech as he dug recyclables out of the trash. He looked like an old timey prophet. We were trying to get a group photo and two young women stopped and asked if they could take it for us. The lady who took it told us we were beautiful, and we were. We browsed around in a shop called Second Gear that had outdoor stuff on consignment. It was a grand day all around. It was a lovely and sleepless weekend.
Dunkin’s stop in Salem, VA (also flooded by Helene).
We rolled out early on Sunday morning. We made less good time on our way north, just tired so we stopped more. We stopped at a Dunkin’s in Salem, Virginia. All mountain towns are somehow wonderfully unique and all the same. If you were whisked up and set down in any mountain town in the US, be it in Vermont, North Carolina, or Colorado, you would immediately recognize you were in a mountain town and you wouldn’t be sure which one. We got home despite Hartford, CT being the disgrace it always is.
Megan had some things to do at home so we stayed at my parents for the week. I helped my dad cut wood. We filled the farm truck bed several times and stacked it neatly in the woodsheds. The living room stove woodshed was almost full when I left. As we worked, we disrupted a thousand different lives in the woodpiles; condos of pill bugs and all kinds of nameless beetles, so many different kinds of grubs and worms. One day my dad’s friend brought him a fifty pound bag of potatoes. While they were gossiping, I slung it up on my shoulder and brought it down the basement for my mom. Afterwards, my dad said to Megan “Did you see my daughter throw that on her shoulders like it was a feather? I pointed it out to Allen, and Allen said ‘ain’t she a doll!’ Allen is splendid for knowing that is doll-like behavior; a lot of people wouldn’t recognize it for what it is.” So there you have it; I am a complete and utter doll.


Lyra took a group photo of us on this bridge, now in the river.
We were keyed up for hurricane Helene because of our loved ones in her path. Annie and family were without power for about a week. But they had a generator and she had service. I cannot tell you how thankful I am that we were able to be in touch with her and Eve the whole time, otherwise I would have had to get in Henry and drive south to see if they were okay. The carnage from the hurricane is devastating. All the little mountain towns we frequented while visiting Annie are ravaged, some washed away completely. We loved Lake Lure and Chimney Rock.
There, we walked the Bridge of Flowers and played in the shallow peaceful river. We even bought a sticker for Henry there we liked it so much. I keep thinking about the old women who thought we were the board of a non-profit in Asheville: are they safe? Did they make it? I think about the waitress who winked at Nema: is she safe? Did she make it? I think about the two kind young women who helped take our group picture and thought we were beautiful: are they safe? Did they make it? And especially, I think of the unhoused old prophet: did he leave his river side encampment in time? Does anyone know his name? Does anyone know to look for him? Did he go to heaven without any name? I can’t take it.
Hike to Glen Falls with Nema while we camped in the Blue Valley Wilderness, NC.
I think about all the places we wild camped in western North Carolina, all the spots were way off grid down long dirt roads, by a river, in narrow valleys; they probably are unrecognizable- no more. I hope no one was camping down in those areas. We didn’t have cell service in any of the places we stayed; we wouldn’t have known what was coming. I loved all those places. My sisters and their families are volunteering; shoveling mud, sorting and packing donated items, loading them onto Chinooks and private planes, helicopters, buses, trucks. Eve is waiting for a call up to go hiking in to the mountain towns that are completely inaccessible with supplies. All the roads and bridges are gone. It’s unimaginable. I’ll leave some links if you are moved to donate to the area. Please pray for everyone who has lost everything and especially the people still looking for their loved ones.
Megan and I are going to see if grunt work help is still needed down there after we vote on the fifth. I can shovel. I can hike with a pack. We are self contained and can live completely off grid, have the best water filters and all of that. If it’s still needed, we’ll make our way south and do what we can to help.
For now, we are once again Vermont. It’s a million times better for camping than New Hampshire. We found a nice private spot up a mountain. We can hear a merry stream careening down the slopes. We have slow service and a couple of hours of sunshine with which to gather solar. There is a pit toilet at a trailhead in walkable distance which is extra nice. The fall colors are astounding, mesmerizing. It’s like living in a skittles bag.



We bought a stove jack for the Springbar tent and picked up a Speedy Stitcher awl. Megan was a little freaked out about cutting a hole in the tent. But we sewed it in and then I cut a hole. Our duct for the diesel heater fits it like a glove, now we’ll be warm when we need it. The jack is pretty nice and has a canvas flap that seals with Velcro when we aren’t using the jack. You probably wouldn’t want to hire me to sew your clothes, but I think we did a decent job.
Two of our solar panels are pretty much on their last legs. Especially in the northeast where we are always in trees and it’s usually at least partly cloudy, they have not been great. We went and bought one from Harbor Freight yesterday and adapted the wiring to fit our battery packs. We now have to rig up somewhere for it to ride in Henry. We are thinking of rigging a small shelf type of thing off the ceiling on the cap of the truck. It seems like it is a thing that wouldn’t be so complicated, but I need someone a little more knowledgeable than me. One of the two Heathers is great at this kind of thing and she said she’d help me figure it out. Wish me luck on that, y’all.





Love your neighbor as yourself. Don’t believe everything you read. And look for the helpers. You’ll find your heart softening for human kind if you do.
https://belovedasheville.com/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR0agJdtamgxN798sBSXdqiTu8JtElZ_RYR1JWS1U58bQZE1USrw8pGobXY_aem_IvppPdOXl7dMBgiqoIh_WQ
https://www.samaritanspurse.org/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR3TAL7j0y4Nou2KVa8E3vpDG0VTnJYmSrLZxyTI9DDnmpoior0lRRpmNAU_aem_eUg_xehqIqlaBRwBY-14AQ
https://unitedcajunnavy.org/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR31JdfAdR9dCHs97RqFYAS2phMQi7L2jK_tQyEw7TpJk5gJdpuOaBWxJOg_aem_U6QsEp_jK6YwUifV61XYcw
https://wck.org/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR2j49i2d-WFgqwxfdNtjywFcny-HwtIk49XrxhicIB_9_B4zabh1TiQQdc_aem_Jjk3sHiLk5C5PgO8ca-G1Q
My heart … somehow you write beauty and pain together.. can I join your skittles world for a weekend? I like your potato hefting skills and tent modifications. You rock. Xx T