Following the New England trip in June, we made the annual pilgrimage to Castle Park in late July. Martha had to attend meetings of the Castle Park Association Board and beyond our own plans, we had to look after her mother.
On the way out we stayed with Tom & Joan Smith in Bristol, Indiana. Staying with the Smiths has been a ritual of our commute to-from Chicago and Michigan. It breaks up the drive by a couple hours and they've always been like extended family; very welcoming and generous in their hospitality. Their home is spectacular and a testament to their creativity and accomplishments. Now their daughter, Laura, lives nearby. She recently moved from New York to a beautiful home on the St. Joseph River. We have different perspectives on politics -- and even facts. Normally we try to avoid touchy topics - this time unsuccessfully. The situation is becoming more common for everyone - and frustrating. We did, however, play a novel card game called "golf" with Joan and Laura. Joan won.
The Castle Park stay, however, like last year's, was colored by obligation. Martha's sister, Betsy, had brought their mother, Cathy, up for the month of July, spending four-plus weeks tending to her. Cathy turns 100 in October and while she's in rather good shape for her age, she routinely requires help, including up and down stairs to her room and leaving the cottage. It requires near-constant vigilance to prevent falls in a place with a lot of stairs. There is also the expectation that her meals are made for her, and she's entertained with golf cart excursions, bingo, hair appointments, etc. It keeps Martha on her toes constantly, both tending to her and hovering over her movements. Because Betsy volunteered this duty for the month of July, we were expected to do the same in August - which eventually turned into five weeks.
The obligations on me are not as heavy; but I end up doing maintenance on the cottage, shopping, cooking, etc. We separately head out for walks, bike rides, the farmer's market or excursions. One of us - or someone - needs to be around in case Cathy falls. In fact, she did fall in August, while I was in Chicago visiting my aunt and siblings, requiring staples in the back of her head.
The cottage was built some one hundred years ago and needs several improvements - which are politically problematic. Every year there is some major issue that needs to be addressed - often from just wear, tear and neglect. Those frequently land at my feet. This year it was the septic system(!) After three plumbers spent hours snaking and eventually digging, we discovered an 'unknown' intermediary septic tank. It turned into an aggravating and costly discovery.
Thankfully, John and Bea took Cathy home the day after Labor Day. Martha and I hugged as the car drove away and breathed a sigh of relief. For her part, Cathy seemed to be more than resigned to leaving and, in fact, seemed to anticipate not coming back next year. We'll see.
While we were there, Martha had the chance to connect with her friends and occasionally we made a point of going out.
After Cathy left, we stayed on for another ten days or so, leaving on Sept. 19th to make our way back home to Richmond. Those remaining days in CP were some of our most comfortable and relaxing. Despite the small kitchen, separate beds, and crude bathrooms, we didn't have anyone to care for, few people in the Park and could enjoy the beach, pool and woods in a carefree, time-free, unhurried meander. It was like a huge exhale and stretch.
We planned the trip back home via a more circuitous route, again staying with the Smiths in Indiana, visiting Nathan in Murfreesboro and trapesing in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
Getting into Nashville, we visited friends Dan and Ellen, enjoying pizza and wine in their garage (COVID precaution). Martha has known Ellen since elementary school, and we'd connected with them in Oak Park, as part of the UU congregation. Dan was transferred to Music City as a lawyer for Bridgestone Tires. They are educated, strident and engaged liberals (whew!) who bought a townhouse in a quickly developing trendy area in a booming part of town, surrounded by other liberals. It would be an idyllic place to live -- though pricey.
Leaving Dan & Ellen, we checked in to our hotel in Murphreesboro; about 40 minutes outside Nashville and home to Middle Tennessee State University. Nate came over to our hotel room for a visit. He's such an attentive son and we had a nice chat about his life at MTSU! After a brief workout in the hotel gym the next day, we went over and checked out Nate's apartment. A generous arrangement with a communal area and large bedrooms. He gave us a tour of the campus; which was unremarkable. It's a staid, state school. We found a comfortable barbeque place in downtown Murphreesboro and chatted about his activities organizing a water-ski team and lobbying the school for financial support, his classes, his possible plans to work at a ski resort over winter break (?), and a girl he's been seeing (!). Turns out she's learning to be a pilot and has the same daredevil passions that he does. It could be a good, if not dangerous, match.
He had a class call (they're virtual) and we left our laundry with him. (Like I said, a good son!) We met again for dinner at the Bonefish Grill; a chain, but a higher-end seafood place. Nate appreciated it and he indulged us with more of his ambitions and activities - including stock investing and writing for the school paper.
Nathan continues to impress us. He's organized, mature in his intuition and understanding of the world (mostly), ambitious, adventurous, engaging and charismatic. He's already recognized that music technology may not be the best pursuit and has reoriented his curriculum to music business….which he'd be better at anyway. We're extremely proud of him and feel confident he can achieve whatever he sets his sights on.
Leaving Murphreesboro the next morning we made the brief three-plus hour drive to Townsend, TN to visit the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It was near a less populated entrance to the Park. Since we couldn't check in until 4:00, we drove into the Park to look around. It was stunning, with a winding road, following a rushing, boulder-strewn river under a canopy of trees. When we finally got into the cabin/condo, we were disappointed. Pictures are always better than the reality in many of these AirBnBs. There were NO utensils or accoutrements. More like a hotel room, but unlike a hotel, there was no regular room service. We either had to eat out for each meal or buy all the materials for fixing them. We ran to the store and figured out the rough basics.
Martha had made a reservation at a resort called the Dancing Bear, only a few minutes away. It was one of the only nice restaurants nearby, and as a lodge, also a had cabins and villas around the wooded property. It reminded me of Savage River Lodge in Maryland. After a comfortable outdoor meal (with an overenthusiastic young waiter) we wandered out to an open fire-pit and resolved to come back and stay there the next time we made the trek to Nashville.
When we headed into the park the next morning, the plan was to find a moderate trail of roughly four miles with some nice scenery. We settled on Little River Trail and Cucumber trail near Elkmont, which together were closer to five miles. It was a pretty hike, the first half following the river, the second more strenuous. It ended up being over six miles and two-half hours. We'd left late and were starving when we got back to the car. On our way out of the Park we went through Gatlinburg to take a roundabout way back to Townsend. We were horrified! Every square inch was taken up by tacky tourist traps (Ripley's Believe it Not?!?) It was mobbed with people and the traffic was so thick it inched along. Why would anyone interested in seeing some of the best nature has to offer spend their time in hillbilly Las Vegas? After those ordeals we simply settled on pizza (me) and salad (Marth) for dinner that evening.
Understandably, on our last day in Townsend we decided against any serious hiking and determined to take the main drag through the Park up to one of its highest peaks, Clingman's Dome. As expected, it was crowded with cars, many of which were parked on the side of the road to reach the trails. Was hiking this popular when we were kids? The lot at the top was so crowded, parking was a challenge. Fortunately, we found a spot. Even the restrooms had lines! There was a steep climb up to an observation tower that winded me - but the views all around were breathtaking.
We'd discovered that Laurel Valley - where we were staying - had a golf course clubhouse with a bar along with a short menu. (The community also has dozens of privately owned cabins, which we took note of for another visit). There was a band playing, the drinks were good and the view was tremendous. And it was only two minutes from our place. A fine way to end this long extended trip.
We'd been away from Richmond for almost two months and were anxious to get home; back into our own bed, but also to see Patrick who'd been living there alone.
I'd also returned with some new resolve to exercise more discipline in my schedule and goals; to be more conscientious in exercise and (hopefully) weight loss, and also in sticking to a schedule of writing, drumming, recording and project production in a more structured way.
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