Back to the Flatlands

We, the wife and I, passed from Heaven to, well, Macon Monday after being at a potential height of 5800 feet above sea level. I say potential because we didn't make the hike that goes that high, but did go the loop around the Joyce Kilmer trail and saw some huge 400 year-old trees. We also found a secluded spot—via canoe—to swim in on the lake there, but, since we don't see sunlight much, acquired a nasty burn, mine worse than hers.

We stayed in a mountain lodge near Robbinsville, N.C. and I recommend it to any of you couples out there in Coupleland (married) to venture forth and try as we did. Our cabin had a spectacular view of mountains, hot tub on the deck (private) all meals included, room service, steamshower, whirlpool, XM radio (dialed to jazz) and...wait, there's more! But you'll have to try it for yourself, though I will say: watch out for the frogs.

Stumergency!
So, back in Macon, with a stumergency Monday night involving intense sunburn pain, Prednisone, and Benadryl, in that order. Thanks be to God and the wife who salved, prayed and healed said sunburn. That lesson went deep, and hopefully I'll remember to use sunscreen as the less inflicted wife did.
Pass the Harleys, Please
One unexpected aspect of the mountains: Harley Davidsons. Yea and Lo, we did not forsee the droves of HD's throttling about the curves and roads of our fair mountains, which did continue, forsooth, post-weekend into Monday. While caretakers of the Joyce Kilmer (Joyce was a guy) used only a crosscut saw, man-powered, to reduce noise and pollution on the trail for felling defunct trees, the exhaust and noise from HD's dominated the park and our Heavenly Stay. But only for a few moments did they tempt to spoil an otherwise pleasant and refreshing trip to Santeelah Lake.