Time Waits for No One - A Short Trip to the Ocean

Oftentimes people ask me how come I travel so much ... But I don’t feel that I do ... Not in the large, very expensive sense. Sure, we do cross the continent or The Pond at least once a year, those are big trips, but most of the time, we just come up for a breath of (a different) air, and just get out of town for not more than 24 hours ... 

This was the case with a recent trip to Manteo and The Outer Banks, right here in North Carolina. 

We decided to go somewhere just for one night pretty much the Monday before Martin Luther King Jr’s Day weekend. We didn’t want to engage our cat sitter (we do if we spend 2 or more days away) in the whole affair; we just wanted to run out, get out of the routine and come back recharged, if possible. 

I was nervous to head that direction because I don’t know why, but North Carolina beaches really do close for the off season ... We have done this before, and we were nervous that we might find nothing to do, or nowhere to eat. 

Hotels are open on the NC beaches, and some have restaurants, but most stand-alone restaurants seem to be either altogether closed or open for limited days and hours. Not even a long weekend on the calendar changed that ... 

But we didn’t starve. Quite the opposite. 

What to do with 24 hours at the beach, especially since the second day has a forecast of non-stop freezing rain and even potentially flurries? 

Well, on the first day, we anchored ourselves to Roanoke Island - the island where the city of Manteo lives. I have loved this historic, intimate water town for as long as I have known it (about 26-27 years, I would guess). It reminds me of Savannah or Charleston, but without the crowds and without the noise. Without the Spanish moss, either. But with all the history, the delicious seafood, and the historic vibe. If you’re quiet enough and pay attention, there are pirates boots hitting the sidewalks and the tight alleys. 

The Our State magazine is of great help to us to pick our next roadtrip destination and this trip was more or less started by an article I saw there: they had a story about The Mother Vine, a 400+ year old scuppernong grape vine. It is famed to be the oldest known vine in America and it dates back to Sir Walter Raleigh’s expedition in 1584 (look it up!). It is currently on private property, but the owners are gracious and allow visitors to walk the grounds and take pictures of it. Of course, in January, there is not much to look at other than a mess of knotted dry wood, but even so ... for someone who loves wine and especially this North Carolina delicacy called “scuppernong” (the fruit and the wine), it was a must see. 

The Mother Vine - Manteo, NC

Afterwards, we walked in Manteo’s waterside shopping district, and wandered the many a boutiques nested in old homes, where floors creak and things smell like old tobacco or seaweed ... 

The Tranquil Inn in the waterside shopping district - Manteo, NC

We went to a wine tasting in the storefront of Vineyards on the Scuppernong, a winery that makes their wines in Columbia, NC, just a few miles inland. 

Vineyards on the Scuppernong's tasting room in Downtown Manteo, NC

We visited a couple of antique stores for window shopping and decoration ideas. 

We tasted oils and balsamic vinegars at The Gourmet Olive where we actually bought some nice garlic-infused olive oil. The store keeper was one of the friendliest people you’ll meet. Really, everyone is nice in this area, but this lady offered to ship us more oil when we’re done with this one, just call and tell her, she said. We thanked her for being open. She admitted she is not open but three days a week, but in the summer, she is so busy, she is known to make “close to a million dollars in a weekend” ... That is some sale of oils and vinegars I suspect ... 

Ghosts spook me and every old town has them. There is nothing more haunting-promising to me than these narrow alleyways between buildings. They fascinate me and the creative ways people connect the buildings also does.

We said goodbye to the shopping district by stopping in at Outer Banks Distilling - a local rum distillery. We had stopped in at the Laughing Lollipop, a candy and ice cream store on the waterside to get some rum balls, and another friendly store keeper there practically begged us to go visit the Distillery for their rum-infused pecans and their pecan-infused rum. 

The Outer Banks Distilling. The place of heavenly roasted pecans

My husband tasted the rum and both of us tasted the pecans. These people know what they’re doing! They soak pecans in the rum until the rum turns the color of the nuts. Then, they roast the nuts and candy them in sugar. They taste like Jamaica and The South all wrapped up in a bite. You eat till you’re stupid, I tell you what. Those pecans are so good that I can see myself driving to Manteo just for the day to buy some more and probably be drunk by the time I get home, just from the rum taste. Ridiculous! 

Their on-site bar area, The Wheel House Lounge, looked like a ton of fun, mixing up pecan rum cocktails and what not. The place was packed, however, not a place to sit, and we were slightly late for dinner if we would have stopped in. So, we moved along. 

Dinner was in an interesting place. The Salt & Cypress Kitchen & Cocktails  was located inside a condotel, one of those motel-looking condo buildings you see in any beach town. The building was on the Shallowbag Bay, right on the water, and a beautiful sunset was drowning us in tender light. 

The Salt & Cypress in Manteo, NC

Our cocktails and view at Salt & Cypress

From the outside, it looks like a tourist trap, a t-shirt store with a bar, but it is anything but ... The place was almost empty (not many crowds in the winter, I tell ya), so we had our pick for where we sat. We chose the second floor to be above the marina and have an unobstructed view of the bay. 

Outside our restaurant, on the Shallowbag Bay

The tuna special (crusted in sesame seeds) and the spicy shrimp pasta were to die for. And they made me a custom-ordered cocktail that was not on the menu - all I wanted was that local pecan-infused rum with some pineapple juice and that’s what they did. I didn’t think I was ever going to leave that place! It tasted like a day at the beach when everyone stayed home and you’re alone with the ocean, the sun, and your thoughts ... 

We headed to Kitty Hawk, on the Outer Banks for the night, where we could sleep right on the beach. Well, in the hotel. In a bed, but with the ocean and the Kitty Hawk Pier right in front of our window.

  

Kitty Hawk Pier, from our hotel balcony

After a nightcap at our hotel's bar, properly named, given our location, The Aviator, we collapsed in bed, with a smile on our faces, bellies and hearts full.

If our first day there was bright, sunny and crisp, the second day we woke up to a complete downpour ... Just gusty winds blowing the coldest rain around every which way. We wanted something more interesting for breakfast than a basic hotel buffet, so we drove around, up and down the Outer Banks and back to Manteo and back again to The Banks and every place the maps were steering us towards was “closed for the season”. It was maddening ... But then, just like that, driving around, my husband spotted this completely redone dinner, the Noosa Beach Grill, and we got there right at noon, so we could order breakfast (him) or lunch (me) with no trouble. Again, the people were welcoming and the service was very good. 

Noosa Beach Grill - quiet, cozy, and trust me - yummy, too

We headed back home, after a mandatory stop at a beach store, just to see if they had any cute summer dresses on sale - as they do, this time of the year ... 

I just wrote close to three pages about an adventure that lasted less than 24 hours ... 

Every time we go away like this I wonder: is it worth it? Is it worth the time? The money? The driving break-neck speed, to and fro?! And every time, I come up with the same answer: absolutely worth it! 

The world is a shaky place. Nothing is guaranteed - the money we have now, the health that we have now, the time that we have now, the (relative) peace we have now - none of them are guaranteed ... The  memories your brain remembers, the tastes, the flavors you discover, the conversations you have with kind strangers or each other, they are all now a page of your life’s album, just waiting patiently to catch patina and dust ... 

Get out there, if you can, and explore ... Even if it’s a place around the corner from your house that you have never visited before. Go find out what moves it. Time waits for no one ... 

Blowing Rock, NC. Mountain Charm. Timeless Flair.

When I lived in North Carolina my first time around, before 2010, because I lived closer to it, Blowing Rock used to be my favorite day-trip destination. I would drive up there for the day from Greensboro, have lunch at The Speckled Trout, then walk about the town, up and down the main street, pop in and out of all the cute little stores, check out the newest local art, try to spot the newest China merchandise that traps any tourist in any American town that sees themselves as a destination, get an ice cream at Kilwins, then head on down the mountain come dinner time. 

A little spot for peace in downtown Blowing Rock: a children's prayer garden

Now, living about an hour  further away, we visit The Crown of the Blue Ridge, as it’s known, much less often. But it still beckons us back from time to time, like it did this weekend. 

These are some of the observations I have made of  an old friend, and of the world as we see it today as we’re travelers through it ... In no particular order ... 

This had to be the least busy holiday weekend I have ever experienced anywhere, but definitely in the North Carolina mountains. We could not figure it out, but all restaurants had open seats (we’re used to driving up there for the holiday weekend and ending up eating fast food or bar food at a bar that still wants people to drink but doesn’t have much to offer by way of food). We hardly needed a reservation anywhere. 

The scenic ride slope at Beech Mountain was almost empty. No lines at all. When we pulled into the parking lot, we counted no more than 20 cars, I’d say. They have three parking lots, but even the one closest to the slope seemed completely empty ... I was sure the resort would be  closed. 

Riding a scenic chairlift in the summer in the mountains is the one activity I look forward to every year. This year, we finally managed to get to it at the very end of summer. It was worth the wait ...

Beech Mountain was open, in fact, but the tavern at the bottom of the slope seemed totally empty, outside of the few occupied tables on their patio. The pub at the top of the mountain had most tables full but the fact that we found a table to sit at at all should tell you they were not very busy. Last time we went, on a non-holiday, summer weekend it was standing-room only both inside and out. There was no one inside this time around. No music playing either, which made it seem even more grim and lonely than the slim crowd. 

Back in the olden, olden days of my trips up the mountain, if I went for an overnight trip, I would equally patronize both Cheeseburgers in Paradise, a hole-in-the-wall burger joint that made a great chicken salad, and The Speckled Trout that made the best trout anywhere on the Parkway. Cheeseburgers in Paradise closed what seems to be a century ago, with the place sitting there, in the heart of downtown, in the busiest intersection of Blowing Rock, empty, falling in disrepair, hurting my soul with every visit, year after year after year. 

But on this trip, it was nice to see that the place took on a brand-new life, and someone loved and cared for the old spot, along other adjacent plots downtown as they now constructed the brand-new and very welcoming hotel Embers. It is where we hung our hats and it was a beautiful experience. The place is clean, welcoming, laid back and full of little gems in the shape of good food, delicious cocktails, and an extremely friendly staff. It was so nice to see history evolving and the town stepping into its next chapter with this new venture downtown. 

The Embers Hotel in downtown Blowing Rock

The Speckled Trout is still as happening as ever - probably the only place where you did still need reservations during this not-so-busy weekend. The wait is still North of an hour for a table and they can only seat you outside with no reservations, and people were taking the outside tables, even when it was pouring out. The trout itself is not what it used to be here - you don’t get a full trout anymore, like in the olden days, and the sides are not just simple baked potatoes, corn on the cob, or steamed veggies ... You have more ‘fancy’ offerings now, like vegan fennel and potato salad, smoked gouda grits, or summer succotash salad. I still visit the place with every visit, just for the good ol’ time’s sake and just because they still serve trout (you’d think they should forever. It’s in their name, after all.) and trout is hard to find, surprisingly, even in mountain towns. 

The cornmeal crusted trout dish at Speckled Trout

Outside The Speckled Trout, the busiest place in Blowing Rock is Camp Coffee Roasters - the line is flowing out into the street at any given time of the day, but those kids who work there know what they’re doing - I thought for sure it would take us an hour to get in and out. It took a bit less than 20 minutes. I guess they time it since you can only park in front of their store for 30 minutes at a time. 

The view from Camp Coffee Roasters towards The Speckled Trout and Embers hotel - across the street

Before we got up the mountain, we toured a couple of wineries in the Yadkin Valley, and then visited another one in the mountains on our second day. 

The gorgeous furnishings at Castello Barone Vineyards and Winery in Yadkin Valley

We love finding little places that do so much to (almost literally) squeeze the sweetness and the richness out of the North Carolina soil to make good products that illustrate the uniqueness or our landscape and climate ... We love talking to the winemakers who, so proudly, showcase their elixirs. It’s always an experience to be shared. Midnight Magdalena, Castello Barone in the Yadkin Valley and Eagles Nest Winery outside Beech Mountain were new findings for us. Featuring mostly dry wines (North Carolina is humid and wet which typically yields dryer varieties, we learned), they were oases of hospitality and good taste. Eagles Nest is hidden deep into the woods of The Smokies. There is no highway sign for it, and you have to kinda trust your maps to take you there. Once you get there, though, the log cabin feel and the gorgeous landscape will render you shocked, mouth-agape. It’s like coming home. You feel the mountains around you just casting a great, warm hug around you, and welcoming you in. 

The beautiful setting at the Eagles Nest Winery, outside Beech Mountain

The wines here, though, are hardly local, being all raised in California, and just mixed and bottled on site, so they’re  a little bit of a fraud, you can say, but they are good wines, and the place is still worth visiting for a moment of respite, a slice of fresh pizza and a cold glass of wine, even semi-imported/ local ... 

There were some low notes during our trip, too. 

The beauty of the setting at Timberlake Restaurant in the Chetola resort is in stark contrast to the poor service and the lesser quality of the food served there, I am sad to say. Kids working in hospitality nowadays need to learn how to use proper words anymore (doesn’t everyone in today’s age of AI when anything we read or write is filled-out for us?). When I tell a young waitress that my order got screwed up and I list at least three things wrong with it and the answer I get is a friendly, chipper, uplifting “Oh, perfect!” followed by a smile - it makes one wonder if anything is being processed on the other end ... 

The serene and peaceful setting of The Timberlake restaurant

We always notice people with kids, and as childless folks, we notice how from day to day, from year to year, kids are more and more close to monkeys and parents are further and further disconnected from any responsibility of raising them. I always say: stop having them or learn how to parent. Filling up the world with screaming, entitled brats is hardly optimistic for our future. Don’t know. Maybe it’s my aging, ornery self, who knows?! 

Although the whole experience was wonderful, as we partook in good foods, good drinks, and great conversations with strangers everywhere, I think the highlight for me was just being in the mountains. Driving on an empty Blue Ridge was my favorite pastime - just seeing no one coming around the curve, and not being rushed by anyone behind us, looking over the (still) bright, green mountains, half in a smoky mist and half clear, breathing in the strong mountain air from our room’s patio were what we drive three and a half hours for - just to take in the mountains and recharge the batteries for the next season. 

Some things will linger for a while: the new-place smell at The Embers, the sticky floors from busy wear and tear at The Speckled Trout, the inexperience of the staff at The Timberlake, the easy-go-lucky staff at Beech Mountain, the super friendly and jack-of-all-trades bartender, Everett, at The Embers bar, the timelessness of the stores that line the Blowing Rock sidewalks year after year, the smell of pines after the rain, the warm cups of coffee at Camp Coffee Roasters, the friendliest hotel receptionist, Stacy, at The Embers ... and all the screaming kids of the world, too ...

Some things are new, some thing are timeless. The world is a mixed bag of nuts; you take the salt with the sugar and you make a nice snack; but whatever you do, don’t stop getting out there and getting your life going, seeing and learning new things. 

The view from the top of Beech Mountain, after the chairlift ride

A Drive through the Heart of the Nation during the Most American Week of the Year

Columbus, OH was really a nice surprise. I am not sure why, but I was thinking it’ll be another depressing, Midwestern town, loud with darkness and sad people looking down, gray skies, and putrid humidity in July. And it was nothing of sorts. It was clean, and svelte, and cosmopolitan, a mix of historic and modern, loaded in stories of German ancestry as loud as the brick walls are red. It had a vibe - people were walking, and skateboarding, and running amok towards the baseball stadium, restaurants were open and so diverse in every way. All the staff was friendly, with a sunny (and not gray) disposition, chatty, even, and kind. We stayed at a historic hotel, during “modern times” bought by Marriott (who, we hoped cured it from all the ghosts), but with a history of its own - originally called when it opened in 1896, “The Great Southern Fireproof Hotel and Opera House" - I’ll let you dig that story up! It’s fascinating! 

Street corner in Columbus, OH

The lobby at The Westin Great Southern Columbus hotel, formerly The Great Southern Fireproof Hotel and Opera House

The making of The Bourbon Twilight at Bar Cicchetti - The Westin Hotel

The breakfast at the hotel was a different story. Who puts butter on a smoked salmon bagel sandwich? Apparently Bar Cicchetti does. The cocktails the night before were spectacular, especially the Bourbon Twilight. Bourbon flambé, anyone? 

The vibe was gone in Charleston, WV. I have not really experienced West Virginia more than just driving through it and cursing the broken highways. What I have seen of it is indeed “wild and wonderful”, as the state slogan advertises. But I also know of poverty and deep challenges, cracks in infrastructure and education so big that they seem that can never be mended. I have always wanted to visit at least Charleston, the state capital, even if for no other reason than because they have - from the speed of the highway, at least - the most beautiful Capitol dome that I can remember of any other US State I have been to. Gilded in 24K gold, it reminds one of the riches of castles of Europe or the church domes of Russia. 

The Capitol in Charleston, WV

As I have already said, Charleston did not have a vibe. It felt like a town that is virtually, generally closed for business. We arrived on a Thursday evening and most restaurants were already closed at 7.30 (had already closed at 6PM). The handful that were open would have closed by 9 PM. Driving through the city felt like driving through a ghost town. Maybe it’s because it was the week of July 4th and the government (and maybe the city folk) were on vacation? But there were tons of businesses closed, some stripmalls that looked deserted truly, and some of the houses in what one would deem the “desirable” neighborhood of The Capitol block, right along the Kanawha river (waterfront, in fact) bore many signs that announced them to be “available”, “for sale” or “for lease.” Most had the sign of age and decay written clearly on their chipped brick walls and cloudy windows thick with cobwebs. 

The Capitol building is indeed impressive. But, Charleston was sad, dark, and lonely ... I wished that the stereotype of West Virginia being one of the poorest states in The Union, lacking opportunities and draw would be busted ... But from the little time we spent there, we were left wanting for more ... 

Indiana Dunes is the 13th National Park we have visited so far. You’re not really sure when you’re drifting from Ohio into Indiana and into Michigan onward. The park is unique because it’s a National Park surrounded by a State Park beach that opens up on Lake Michigan. The National Park piece is wild, criss-crossed by trails, and really diverse, a mix of sandy dunes, juniper trees and desert-like vegetation, right along marshes filled with birds, turtles and ducks. The State Park piece is full of people sunning on the beach, bringing all their people-ness along - noise, mess, busy-bodiness ... Quite mysteriously placed, only to remind us we’re still in the manufacturing Midwest, a very active steel plant neighbors the parks; its flames rush towards the skies frantically, adding more heat to the already melty summer air.  I wish we had a wee bit more time to explore the trails ... 

The beach at Indiana Dune State Park on Lake Michigan

An oasis in Indiana Dunes National Park

Kalamazoo, MI used to be somewhat of a sad, gray, Midwestern, blue-collar city, too, when I first started visiting, back in 2009. But with every visit since, it has come more into its own. Tons of new stripmalls are popping up, new construction, condos, new homes, some of them incredibly modern in architecture, new coffee shops, updated diners (instead of the greasy-spoon ones of the 50’s). It was particularly cheery in the summer - weather does cast a more somber shadow on it, when days on end fail to show the sun during winter and fall ... But the feeling of fresh, new blood and life was refreshing.  

Holland and South Haven, Michigan have similar characteristics to one another. My husband said they are “typical coastal towns” which I guess makes sense: they are both sitting proud on Lake Michigan. Holland is a college town meets mid-century modern homes. South Haven leans more towards the colonial, or even Victorian architecture. 

South Haven Lighthouse in South Haven, MI. You can tell the muckiness of the smoky and humid air above Lake Michigan

Outside of Holland, we went for some baked goods at Crane’s Orchards. My companions raved about the freshly baked pie. My pretzel was delicious, so hot out of the oven that it burned my lips. But the waitress had a terrible time figuring out how to charge for two slices of pie and a pretzel. You see, people come here for pies, mostly. That part, she figured out. The pretzel was an appetizer, and although I ordered it as it was on the menu, she was taken by surprise and could not figure out what to tell “the computer”. Crane’s is one of those places that has ‘regular” dining options (like sandwiches) just to attract the new folk, but they are known well for one thing only by “the regulars” (pies) and they draw probably 99% of their customers for pies. They are on autopilot for pies. The rest of the options on the menu seemed to be a mystery to them ... A nice stop, overall, but just be ready to allow for some ungainliness if you crave something other than ... a slice of cherry pie a la mode.  

The pie place: Crane's Orchard in Fennville, MI

Speaking of ungainliness, at Anna’ House (a modern diner with a very exhaustive and diverse menu in Kalamazoo), they will spill two pints of ice water and half of a hot cup of coffee on you without much of an apology. After drenching my mother-in-law in said liquids, we all got free coffees ... No apology, really (other than “Sorry, this happens sometimes”), no manager came to visit, no one offered a dry cleaner’s coupon for the snow white shirt that was not splotchy brown from coffee stains ... But the food is delicious! 

We passed through Springfield, Ohio, where we stopped for a couple of hours to visit The Westcott House, a Frank Lloyd Wright construction which was finished in 1903. This is only the second F.L. Wright building we have seen (the first one was Taliesin West which is a home and a school - a bit of a different purpose), and the first one that we have seen that was built for a family. If you are at all interested not only in architecture, but human innovation, history, and the daring ideas of a visionary spirit, I strongly encourage you to get into the mind of Frank Lloyd Wright. The possibilities of learning about looking at the world through different-colored glasses are endless with this guy! When you think of the period he grew up in and of the years during which he created (between 1860s and 1950s) and the type of architecture he created (some elements of which did not become mainstream till 1980s and 1990s), your mind will be blown away! 

America was still designing homes with 2x4 ft closets all the way into the 1970s! Wright designed walk-in closets (arguably some of the first ones ever), with built-in drawers, shelves, areas separated by function and purpose ... When people hardly had indoor plumbing, he added bathrooms to every bedroom or, for smaller bedrooms (meant for children), he connected them by Jack-n-Jill bathrooms. The craftsmanship, the wood paneling, the unique pigmented stucco walls, the stained glass doors and light fixtures, the long, tunnel-like, canopy gardens are signature items we have seen in both of the places we visited. They bring everything together into a cohesive style, stamp it with his unique signature ... Oh, how I wish I would have met him and seen his thinking process. As the granddaughter of a construction engineer, I am fascinated by how people create something from nothing. Or something from a dream, or a feeling of where things should go ... I wish I could see a house from a plotting design, but I can’t ... And it’s perhaps because I can’t see this that I appreciate and respect it so much. 

Full disclosure: The Westcott House you see today is almost a 100% restoration. The home was inhabited by the Westcott family who commissioned it from the famous artist between 1903 and 1926. After that, it went through many identities, being anything from a single-family home, a boarding house, and later an apartment complex. The house was later left in disrepair which made the ubiquitous wood fixtures rot and the foundation collapse. The floors, the built-ins, the roof beams collapsed and made it unsafe to live in. The Wright Foundation eventually bought it from the last owner and restored every inch of it. They used the original plans, and pictures from different stages of the house’s life to restore it. I think the job was done well and the place shows like the masterpiece that was intended to be. You’ll learn about the Springfield and Ohio history and industry while you're here - the docent is a retired newspaper employee and she is full of facts. After telling us the many details about the many industries of Springfield and Ohio, in general, she concluded with pride “We are pretty cool!”. 

Frank Lloyd Wright's The Westcott House in Springfield, OH

We traveled for the entire week through the smoke of the wildfires in Canada. Couple that with the normal wet heat of the East Coast, you’d know that the weather was a hot stew: wet and burning any way you breathed it ...

I love summer travel when kids are out of school and they are instead serving customers at the fast foods on their summer jobs. Their innocence and sometimes charming absent-mindedness is somewhat endearing to me (maybe now that I have nephews old enough to work in a restaurant for the summer is what causes this nostalgia).

In Columbus, we had to allow our car to be parked by the valet. We had a 6 pack of beer in the trunk and someone got a little happy with the steering wheel on the way to or from the parking lot. The following morning, they brought it back with broken beer bottles in the trunk. We drove from Columbus to Kalamazoo the next day in beer fumes, trying nervously not to get pulled over and charged with drunken driving, considering the obvious stench ... 

West Virginia had the most, shall we say, unique ...  billboards. Some websites advertised in big, bold letters things like helltruth.com and hicksoutdoor.com. I am afraid to ask! 

We passed innumerable mobile homes on this journey, some of them so decrepit and run down, we wondered how many breaths they had left before their time was over. Leaning walls, leaking roofs, boarded windows, but with perfectly-looking cars parked up front and small, half-naked, mired in mud, little kids upfront. I would only wonder what they had for breakfast or dinner the previous night ... It could not have been much. The penury was palpable. And yet, on so many of them, there was a sign on their front door that spelled in bold, bright letters very clearly: “BLESSED”. I have zero room to complain! 

One of the most beautiful drives is along the river Kanawha through West Virginia. The river flows right along the side of the highway like a good, loyal companion. It, with the road and the train tracks, snake along together telling the same coal-dark story ... 

America is a country of contrasts. Of rich and poor. Of sad and happy. Of light and shadows. 

Confederate flags hanging on farmlands like bleeding wounds, Trump political signs reading like the sure threat they are.  All this while the cd was spinning in our dashboard and Jeb Puryear of Donna the Buffalo was bellowing out: “Let’s build a fortress of love by the river with all the happiness that we can find.” 

Let’s! 

Quintessential America: Charleston, WV around the Capitol block, and on the side of the road somewhere in the Midwest.