Cross-Country Road Trip! Day 30-32, Mile 5982: A Grand Time with Our Granddaughter.

 The drums! The drums! I shall go mad with the sound!

Asheville was jammed and jammin' on a warm Friday night, pounding with the rhythm of many drums and the stamp of dancing feet. The mountain town has grown from around 90,000 in 2019 to nearly 300,000. It's a happening place, a liberal college town in a purpling, but still red state.

We left Charleston for Asheville early. It's about a 4.5 hour drive if you take a straight shot up the freeway. 

But we had other plans. We had originally mapped out a route up the coast, winding up in Richmond, but then we realized that one of our granddaughters, Syona, was living in eastern Tennessee, only an hour from Asheville. 

We still wanted to see something of the rest of North Carolina, though, so we plotted a course that took us to Greensboro in the north central part of the state before rolling west to Asheville. Altogether a 7.5 hour drive.

We were thinking that the area in the north of the state would be more picturesque than the flatlands of South Carolina, but it wasn't until we were well past Greensboro on our run west that the country started turning hilly.

The hills! The hills! We had not seen anything but flat, flat terrain since we left New Mexico three weeks ago. We had almost forgotten how lovely true hill country can be. And this is an especially beautiful landscape, green and vibrant. It was a such a pleasure to be driving through it.

We had planned to stay just one night in Asheville, but Syona's work schedule was such that we could only see her on Sunday, so as good grandparents, we delayed our trip by booking two nights in Asheville.

We were expecting a laid-back hipster vibe, so we were surprised by the crowds and the number and quality of restaurants.

Almost everything was fully booked, but we got a late reservation at Limones. The chef here is from Mexico and the menu features the kind of food you'd find in Mexico City, not the expected tacos and nachos.

The bar is stocked with a good variety of tequilas and mezcals.

I had an excellent mezcal margarita. O was not quite ready to switch from martinis.

We split a delicious seafood stew--clams, scallops, fish, and butter beans. The beans were a wonderful addition.

The next morning, we had an amazing breakfast at a very popular local hangout. We waited about 40 minutes for a table in a lovely outdoor seating area, serenaded by an accomplished jazz guitarist. A very civilized way to while away the wait.

We were rewarded with loaded Bloody Marys.

I had blacked shrimp with cheesy chipotle grits. The ultimate southern comfort food.

Such decadence had to be paid for, of course. We drove up the Blue Ridge Parkway in the Smoky Mountains for a hike. The Smoky Mountains are a subset of the Blue Ridge Mountain chain that stretches from Pennsylvania to Georgia. They're more what we westerners would call foothills. Most peaks are under 6,000 feet, but they offer some great hiking.

All was green at the lower elevations.

But at the top of Craggy Pinnacle, just under 6,000 feet, the trees and bushes were still in winter mode. There were buds on the rhododendrons, but they were still very tight.

We decided lower was better. The dogwoods were blooming.

So were all the spring flowers.

After the hike, we visited the Southern Highland Craft Guild Folk Art Center. It's a very nicely setup museum and gift shop featuring woodwork, furniture, and other crafts.

As well as some unusually beautiful quilts.

Everywhere we wanted to go for dinner was fully booked, so we picked a place, Rhubarb, and tried for a walk-in. Luckily, they were accommodating, and we were soon seated at the bar. 

It turned out to be one of the best dinners we've had on a trip filled with great meals.

I had smoked and milk-braised pork secreto with "day lily, bamboo shoot, knot weed salad, and chow chow" I'm not sure what all that is, but it was delicious.

O had shrimp pirloo with andouille, wild garlic mustard, red rice, Vadouvan aioli, and country ham. 

Both dishes were incredibly flavorful, and none of those wild ingredients got lost on the palate. Just delicious.

Though we stuck to our usual martinis, we were intrigued by this unusual whiskey.

We wondered how someone ten years old came to be widowed. We decided in must have happened back in the early 1800s when early marriage was common. Still, I'm sure there's a complex and fascinating story behind it.

They saved the best for last. I like carrot cake. I'm not wild about carrot cake, but I like it. So I was a bit hesitant to order it for dessert. 

It was like no carrot cake you or I have ever had: mascarpone frosting, apricot puree, pineapple-carrot compote, and walnuts. It was an electric shock to the taste buds. In a good way.

After dinner, we wandered downtown in a blissful stupor. It was hopping.

The Jesus people were singing and dancing. Interestingly, on our whole trip through the red state south, we saw very few Trump flags and very few religious billboards. Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, South Carolina, not until we got to North Carolina, and even then it was only a couple gigantic "Sin has Consequences. Repent!" billboards. But in liberal Asheville...

Every corner was infested with bad, but loud, street musicians.

O was intrigued by this guy who promised to create poems on the spot. We talked to him for a bit, and after a period of cogitation he delivered a pretty damn good poem for us. Thanks, Creative Cary! 

O tried to talk up the virtues of our granddaughter Syona to him, but he felt she was probably too young for him, and besides he was looking for a woman willing to pump out six to ten children.

We wished him good luck. 

The next morning we drove an hour through the mountains to Cosby, Tennessee, to see Syona.

The road through the Smokies was stunning, green and majestic.

Syona was out late the night before, but she was ready to entertain visitor by 11:30. She was in great spirits. She is having a great time, enjoying her job and the whole new world she finds herself in.

We are so proud that she has made this happen all by herself, driving across country and starting a new life. Go, girl!

This is the meadow behind her apartment. What's not to love?

Cosby is so small as to be practically non-existent, but Syona took us to Janice's Diner just up the road, where we had lunch and a nice visit.

After a fond farewell, we drove on into Virginia, where we stopped for the night in Roanoke.

Tomorrow: Appomattox and Washington, D.C.!

P.