Does This Tow Truck Stop At Waffle House?

Yellow Face & Blackrock Mountain – SB6K - 7/16/12 – 6Miles
Like the folks aboard the S.S. Minnow, I started out for athree-hour tour – or in my case, a three-hour hike.  After our family’s beach vacation I didn’thave any work scheduled for a few days, so I made a last-minute decision to furtherwhittle down my SB6K list and hike to Yellow Face near Waterrock Knob on theBlue Ridge Parkway.  With the SB6Kguidelines of a minimum five-mile hike, I needed to hike beyond Yellow Face andover to Blackrock Mountain.  It’s notreally on a trail map, but Jeff had given me all his information and it seemedlike a simple enough venture, just a long drive there and back.  After all, the mountains are where they are.
I made a miscal- culation and ended up driving a scenic route,adding 45 minutes to my morning.  I wasdaydream- ing about checking out Davidson River Campground on the return driveand…well, anyway, I was running late.  Bythe time I got to the BRP I was pushing it, zipping along and gettinganxious.  I had a time deadline to getback home, plus there was a forecast for afternoon thunderstorms and I did notwant to be on top of a mountain for that. However, skies were slightly overcast, great conditions for photos, andI said aloud to myself, “This is a waste of a good drive on the Parkway becauseyou are in a hurry to get to your hike.” I stopped for one good shot.
At Waterrock Knob Visitor Center I said hello to the rangers and told them myhike plan.  Ranger Mike had done thishike and gave me some good advice:  “Whenyou see the purple/yellow blazes painted on big rocks, that is not Blackrock(your destination).  Keep going anotherhalf hour to one large rock about 40 feet across.”
On trail about 11:20 a.m., it was very easy to follow, much betterthan the unmaintained trail that Jeff and I hiked from Waterrock Knob to LynnLowry and Plott Balsam Mountains last August. That was a nightmare hike that originally was intended to include YellowFace but we opted for dinner instead. 
Mountains still go up, and I had a steady half-mile climb tosummit Yellow Face with some fun stuff along the way.
Turk’s cap lilies, as spectactular as rhododendrons
Puffy and wispy clouds floating down in the valley
The summit was open with a few trees and full of blackberrybushes as tall as me
Lots of ups and downs between Yellow Face and BlackrockMountain, but I prefer that to long stretches of either one.  Yellow/purple blazes (Western CarolinaUniversity colors) were sporadic but helpful in a couple of places.  Several times the trail got very skinny,hugging the steep mountainside. Note:  I am not a goat.
These markers were plentiful
More Turk’s cap lilies
Vegetation was quite high in some spots
Blue beads (fruit) of yellow bead lilies
Fungus on rocks looked like peeling vinyl
I passed the area ofgigantic boulders that Ranger Mike had told me about and kept going.  Soon thereafter I met a couple returning fromBlackrock, said there would be some moderate rock scrambling (true, more shortsteep sections and lots of fun). 
Finally at Blackrock, hot as blue blazes, but I sat on topof it to eat lunch.  What a peacefulplace.  The hump directly above the rock, in the center of the photo, is Yellow Face.  I would like very much to go backhere in the fall.  This is a great novicehike…but it sure is a long drive.
View west from Blackrock Mountain
Emerging cow parsnip bloom - I tried all day to get a good shot of this.  Looks a bit like the monster plant in "Little Shop Of Horrors."
Butterfly dangling on Turk's cap lily
On the return lap I slipped on one steep section, landed flat outon my back, acquired a few more battle scars. I also met a young man and woman wearing forest service clothing, orangevests.  The woman had what looked like asmall folded laptop strapped to her chest, said they were doing some “geologicmapping.”
Who knew there would be so many people on this unmaintainedtrail on a Monday afternoon?  Very closeto the trailhead, I met a group of six hikers who said they were going to “BearRock.”  I detected accents, not Englishas their first language.  I raised amental eyebrow that it was nearly 2:30 p.m. and they were beginning a six-milehike with thunderstorms in the forecast, but I kept my mouth shut.  I did ask if they had water and they saidyes, but I sure didn’t see any, and no backpacks.  I think I would be a terrible forest rangerbecause I would worry about everybody too much.
My hike took about 3hours, not bad.  Back at Waterrock Knob VisitorCenter, I checked in with the rangers, used the restroom, then got into my carto head back home.  Thus began the REALadventures of the day. 
My car key would not turn in the ignition.  Wiggling, jiggling, twisting the steeringwheel, nothing worked.  There I was ,high up on the Blue Ridge Parkway, 150 miles from home on a Mondayafternoon.  The good news was that Iwasn’t alone on some dirt back road. There were people around and maybe I could get some help.
Following are my notes just as I wrote them when I (finally)got home.  Names have been changed toprotect…well, you know…
I called my husband Jim, busy at work, he couldn’t problem-solveover the phone.   I asked Ranger Mike tolook at it:  a head-scratcher for him,too, but at least he confirmed it wasn’t just my imagination or weak arms.   Cell phone service was sketchy, better onone side of the parking lot than the other. I called AAA, explained my situation, got cut off.  After several attempts, I hoped a tow truckwas on the way.  The rangers gave metheir cell phone number as a callback in case mine didn’t work (battery gettinglow, of course).  A traveler stopping at thevisitor center (Bill) overheard my conversations with AAA, said he was amechanic and would be happy to look at my problem.  He worked on it for over 30 minutes andconcluded that the ignition cylinder needed to be replaced. 
I sat around on the curb like a vagrant waiting for the towtruck to arrive.  I couldn’t wait in thecar because (1) it was too hot and I couldn’t put the windows down and (2) Iwas afraid I wouldn’t get cell reception at my car.  Talked off and on with Mike and the otherranger about different hikes in the area. 
Watched people come and go. A late afternoon storm did come up, hard rain for a little bit, thenhail, then it passed on and we watched it travel eastward – fascinating, really.  Three motorcycle dudes stopped at the VC tosit out the storm.
Rangers offered to wait around with me, but I said I’d befine.  They closed up shop at 5 o’clockand left.
Three women with six kids pulled up before the storm, kidsran around the parking area, women were fascinated by the storm and aftermath,trying to take photos of lightning.  Theywere there probably an hour.  I finallystruck up a conversation.  They were fromBiloxi, MS where Hurricane Katrina “actually happened.”  One sis lives in Clyde, NC now.  They come up several times a year to visither and hang out at Maggie Valley.  Onesis said she has lost her New Orleans area accent but I silently disagreed. 
Tow truck arrived at 5:30 p.m., Dave in charge.  I rode with him back to Fletcher, NC (nearAsheville) to the only Honda dealer – Jim had called around for the bestpossible place to get it fixed.  It was along ride at 25 mph going down the mountain.  Dave liked me right away since I was nice to him about the long wait(2.5 hours) because I knew that it was a rural area and his is the only AAAtowing service in the county.  Anyway, inthat hour ride I learned many things:
Dave’s dad passed away in March from small cell lungcancer.  His mom is having a tough timeand they are afraid to leave her alone.  Momand Dad have been divorced since the ‘80’s but lived a quarter mile apart andstayed friends.  Dave’s wife was goingover there tonight to stay with her.
Dave didn’t have on his seatbelt ,and when I chastised himabout it he said he doesn’t drink, smoke or do drugs, so this is the one rulehe doesn’t follow, because a good friend a long time ago had a wreck and wentinto a pond and because of his seatbelt being fastened he drowned. 
Dave got a text from his wife and explained:  his cousin’s granddaughter had been molestedby a family friend, and they charged the man, and the man had just that minutekilled himself with a shotgun.  Truestory, that’s about how succinctly he told it to me.
Many other topics covered with Dave – can’t get them alldown.  An extremely nice, down home, mountainresident, happy with his work and loves his family.  I was thankful for my own rural upbringing tohelp me appreciate his friendly manner.
At the Honda dealer, the guy there (Bob) showed Dave whereto unload my car, noticed my Virginia Tech sticker and showed me his VTwatch.  He’s a ’74 graduate, playedbasketball for Tech.  We compared notesand it seems he and I were both at the Sugar Bowl in New Orleans in 2001 – didwe see each other on Bourbon Street?
Then Dave dropped me at the Waffle House to wait for Jim topick me up, because the dealership closes at 8 o’clock and Jim wouldn’t getthere until 9 o’clock (it was 7:30).  Iwas the only customer.  They weretraining a new waitress.  I told them Iwas waiting for a ride and we got into all kinds of conversations.  The young waitress had quit smoking becauseshe had bronchitis and then became pregnant, a good incentive.  Her co-workers congratulated her.  I ordered an omelet and it was the best thingever, very light and fluffy.  The youngmale cook was very sweet, told me the secret is to drop it in very hot greaseand cook it very quickly, no browning.  Itold him I was eating so slowly because I didn’t want it to end. 
The young waitress grew up around here and talked about somehiking she had done (when she was younger?) and some camping spots.  She really seemed to appreciate that shelives in an area with many treasures.  One camping spot near Mills River she no longer recommends because sheheard they do witchcraft there. 
Around 8:45 p.m. the culture of the Waffle House changed,some more customers came in, the 9 o’clock shift people arrived, someone turnedon the radio and it became kind of hectic. Jim called to say he was close and to order him some food to go.  I gave the order to the new trainee and shegot to place her first order in code without writing it down.  While it was being prepared she told me abouther 23-year-old son who is estranged, she doesn’t know where he is, and she isseeing a counselor.  I told her I thoughtit would turn out all right eventually if she always lets him know that sheloves him. 
Got home about 11:00 p.m. Geez, a six-mile hike.
There is no suchthing in anyone's life as an unimportant day.  ~Alexander Woollcott