Injuries suffered while on vacation:
Sprained wrist
Sprained ankle
Baseball sized bruise
Scraped knee
Scraped elbow
About 15 other miscellaneous bruises and cuts
And those were just mine.
We went to Damascus, Virginia which is, I'm pretty sure, part of the Smokey Mountains and home to the Virginia Creeper Trail, an old railroad line that has since been converted to a bike trail. The entire trail is 34 miles, but most people who come to Damascus just to a 17 mile stretch from Whitetop down into Damascus. My best friend suggested the vacation to us as she and her family have been down twice and described it as the best vacation they've ever had. So we decided to venture there as well and cross a new state off our list.
In addition to my injuries, one kid fell on a hike and scraped his knee. Another impaled himself with a campfire skewer (minor injury) and fell out of bed giving himself a "deep" bruise on his foot that required a trip to Urgent Care. My injuries were all acquired from a very uncool wipeout on my bike about 5 miles down the trail. Eli was riding behind me on one of the half bike attachments and we think his wheel might have caught on a post throwing us off balance. We both went down, but I sustained all the injuries which were black. Yes, my scrapes and much of my skin was black. The trail is lined with coal, so when you fall it gets into your skin and they call it tattooing. I have no tattoos, and I was definitely not into getting this kind either. I guess you could say the Creeper Trail was a Creeper Fail...but it so wasn't.
We went to Damascus, Virginia which is, I'm pretty sure, part of the Smokey Mountains and home to the Virginia Creeper Trail, an old railroad line that has since been converted to a bike trail. The entire trail is 34 miles, but most people who come to Damascus just to a 17 mile stretch from Whitetop down into Damascus. My best friend suggested the vacation to us as she and her family have been down twice and described it as the best vacation they've ever had. So we decided to venture there as well and cross a new state off our list.
In addition to my injuries, one kid fell on a hike and scraped his knee. Another impaled himself with a campfire skewer (minor injury) and fell out of bed giving himself a "deep" bruise on his foot that required a trip to Urgent Care. My injuries were all acquired from a very uncool wipeout on my bike about 5 miles down the trail. Eli was riding behind me on one of the half bike attachments and we think his wheel might have caught on a post throwing us off balance. We both went down, but I sustained all the injuries which were black. Yes, my scrapes and much of my skin was black. The trail is lined with coal, so when you fall it gets into your skin and they call it tattooing. I have no tattoos, and I was definitely not into getting this kind either. I guess you could say the Creeper Trail was a Creeper Fail...but it so wasn't.
I'm suffering from vacation withdraw...bad. This was our first vacation in three years and was easily one of the best vacations we ever had, but the tragic flaw was that it was set in absolute, attainable heaven. I'm almost (almost) happy I fell because it really slowed us down. Instead of flying down the Creeper Trail on a bike, I got to walk six miles of it taking in all the scenery. (Didn't I mention that? After my fall, I had to walk six miles out of a forest before I could get to help.) Rushing streams and cloud topped mountains. Even when the thunderstorm hit and my kids started to freak out and all I wanted to do was sit and cry, I still was able to recognize the beauty around me. And then there was our cabin.
We stayed at a little cabin (the area is peppered with cabins and cottages throughout the mountain) just across from the trail. Our view...a Christmas tree farm down the side of a mountain. An elderly couple rents out the cabin on their property. She bakes a chocolate cake on your first night there and he talks firewood and pocketknives.
So on our ride home as we left the Smokeys and passed through Shenandoah heading into the rush of D.C. and then Baltimore and then Philly, I realized that of all the beautiful places we could have chosen to live, we chose one of the least picturesque parts of the United States. And it's not just about being pretty. It's crowded! I mean a lot, a lot of people. We went grocery shopping in Virginia at 11 o'clock on a Saturday morning. There were maybe ten cars in the parking lot. Have you ever been grocery shopping at any time, let alone on a Saturday, in South Jersey? There are never just ten cars in the parking lot. I had all three kids and my husband with me plus it was a half hour trip into town and then another half hour back out and we were still finished with a full grocery order faster than when we run up to the Shoprite that's five minutes from our house for a few items.
This was one of the first vacations where I felt more at home on vacation than I do where I actually live. I suppose that's it. Whenever I'm at the beach, I always picture myself living there, but there are always a lot fewer people than what's really at the beach. Not to mention that I'm loaded with cash. Most vacations you say it was nice to visit, but then you're glad to be back home. Well, not this one.
Since I'm still not 100 percent and it won't be easy for me to get out in the garden, I've decided for the month of August to focus on some of the positives of living where I do in the hopes of shaking off this discontent.
So on our ride home as we left the Smokeys and passed through Shenandoah heading into the rush of D.C. and then Baltimore and then Philly, I realized that of all the beautiful places we could have chosen to live, we chose one of the least picturesque parts of the United States. And it's not just about being pretty. It's crowded! I mean a lot, a lot of people. We went grocery shopping in Virginia at 11 o'clock on a Saturday morning. There were maybe ten cars in the parking lot. Have you ever been grocery shopping at any time, let alone on a Saturday, in South Jersey? There are never just ten cars in the parking lot. I had all three kids and my husband with me plus it was a half hour trip into town and then another half hour back out and we were still finished with a full grocery order faster than when we run up to the Shoprite that's five minutes from our house for a few items.
This was one of the first vacations where I felt more at home on vacation than I do where I actually live. I suppose that's it. Whenever I'm at the beach, I always picture myself living there, but there are always a lot fewer people than what's really at the beach. Not to mention that I'm loaded with cash. Most vacations you say it was nice to visit, but then you're glad to be back home. Well, not this one.
Since I'm still not 100 percent and it won't be easy for me to get out in the garden, I've decided for the month of August to focus on some of the positives of living where I do in the hopes of shaking off this discontent.
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