Sarah Wynde's Blog, page 26

Cici 2 Snippet

I thought I should find a great photo to post this morning, since my travel/life news boils down to “sitting in a driveway, concentrating on my computer.” But my photography also boils down to “sitting in a driveway, concentrating on my computer.” So have a Cici snippet instead.

Romeo tugged on the back of Cici’s all-weather coat. “Lady coming this way,” she whispered in a carrying voice. “Looking for ya, I think.” 

Cici turned in the direction Romeo indicated. 

The woman wasn’t wearing the obvious uniform of the officials at the desks, but her dark jacket, dark pants and dark soft-soled shoes looked like a uniform nonetheless. People shifted out of her way automatically, without hesitating, as she strode across the terminal. Not quite like she was invisible, but more as if she carried a repelling charm, sensed but not seen. Or maybe that was just because her stern expression and energetic demeanor were vaguely threatening. 

Cici repressed a sigh. 

The woman reached them and bent her head and upper body in a brief half-bow. It was not the full bow of respect she would have given to the ambassador or the brisk nod she probably would have given the average stranger, but a gesture perfectly tuned to convey, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m not taking any chances.” 

Or that’s what Cici thought anyway. Maybe the woman thought she was saying something more like, “Welcome to Valtona.” Tough to say, really. 

“Welcome to Valtona,” the woman said. Her voice was firm but held a hint of breathiness under the surface. She cleared her throat and when she spoke again, the breathiness was gone. “I understand you seek communication protocols for the Renuvian Embassy. A vehicle has been summoned and awaits you at the nearest entrance. May I escort you?” 

Cici glanced at the overhead display. The numbers were flickering past too fast to see, but as she watched, they slowed and stopped. 12421. The numerals blinked furiously. 

She let her gaze roam over the terminal. The calm misery of hundreds of people waiting endlessly for their numbers to be called had turned into complete chaos, a confused jumble of beings all moving at once. People jostled for places in line, rushing toward the exits, laden with their boxes and bags. The kargoi slithered by, its tentacles no longer serene yellow, but a dramatic joyful purple. 

Cici hesitated. Technically, she should wait until all of the beings who were ahead of her in line were finished. But even with every desk open and the officials stamping documents with barely a glance, it would take some time for the crowds to clear out. 

“Is that a problem?” All breathiness was gone. The woman narrowed her eyes at Cici. “The embassy has been notified of your arrival. The vehicle belongs to them.” 

Cici’s lips twitched. Well. Good for the Valtonans. Not totally cowed, then. Or at least, careful. Impersonating a Renuvian would be ridiculously dangerous, but not everyone might know that. 

“It will be my pleasure to visit the embassy.” Cici slipped her free hand into the inner top pocket of her all-weather coat. She carried two sets of documents, of course, and ordinarily, she would pass through planetary customs with the set that would arouse no questions. But given that she’d already mentioned Renuvia, she’d use her real identification. 

By touch, she separated her Renuvian passport from her human passport, and pulled it out. She extended it toward the Valtonan woman. 

The woman fell back a few steps, but recovered quickly. “Unnecessary,” she said, breathiness back in full force, as she waved away Cici’s passport. 

“Oooh!” Romeo’s whisper was filled with delight. “Pretty.” 

Cici bit back the smile, tucking her passport away again. Renuvian passports were suitable for dragons, but humans did tend to find the fact that they were written in fire and burned at a temperature well past that which would sear human flesh to the bone rather off-putting. 

Understandable, Cici supposed. 

But it left her with a dilemma. Should she tell this woman her name? 

*****

Unedited and a first draft, of course. The writing is not actually going very well. I’m way behind on my NaNo goals and feeling forced to acknowledge that books require plots, and plots require thinking time. My plan of just throwing in all sorts of things that entertain me still requires transitions and character development and the creation of tension. In absolutely poor NaNo behavior, I’ve deleted words and edited chapters — bad me, bad, bad, bad. It’s not possible to write 50K words in a month if you delete some of them. Part of my mistake might have been that the revision of APM is hovering over me — I’m not feeling finished with Fen and so even though I love Cici, I’m having a tough time getting the words to flow. I’m not quite ready to throw in the towel on NaNo… but I’m probably getting close. Fortunately, even if I give up on NaNo, I’m going to keep writing Cici. Although I did start Fen 3 while I was falling asleep last night, so I should probably write those ideas down this morning, too. So many stories, so much gnashing of teeth as I try to turn them into shareable form!

Falling behind

I’m feeling stressed this morning. It feels like there are so many things I should be doing, so much stuff to get done, and I’m not getting to any of it. I’d list it all out — a formal letter to get my rights reverted on the Spanish translation, investigate cheaper website hosting, first edit pass on APM, etc, etc, etc. — but the complete list would keep going and going, and it would make me more stressed. Instead, I’m going to breathe and remember the reasons why I’ve fallen behind.

I spent the first weekend of November camping with my niece at Lake Louisa. We used my camping chairs, ate good food, talked a ton, went to a writer’s event with my friend Lynda, built a campfire and toasted ghost-shaped marshmallows, and finished up by having Sunday brunch with my dad and stepmom. My clearest memory of the weekend, already a week later, is sitting in the camping chairs, watching the sky changing colors as the sun set and we talked about what it means to take charge of your own life.

[image error]I made C light the fire. It’s not hard to convince a 16-year-old that she wants to be the person to play with matches! (Not literal matches.)

Back in Sanford, at Christina’s house, I played games with C & co (her boyfriend & their sons). My favorite is definitely Song Pop Party, an Apple TV song recognition game that I’m terrible at but that I truly enjoy. We also played some Super Fight and some Azul. And we spent a full day playing Arkham Horror, including brunch in the morning with home-made hashbrowns and eggs, and pizza in the late afternoon. We knew it was going to take hours to play the game — it’s that kind of game — so it was a planned experience, but I think I am not someone who wants to play ten-hour games. It was moments of fun interspersed with much rules confusion and a fair amount of frustration. We did win in the end (it’s a cooperative game), but I would have accepted a loss quite contentedly if it came about four hours sooner.

On Thursday, I left Sanford to visit my friend Joyce in Casselberry. Our plan was to write, write, write. Instead we wrote a little, talked a lot, walked the dog, and enjoyed one another’s company.

On Friday, I drove down to Merritt Island to spend the weekend with my friend Lynda. Our plan was to write, write, write. Instead… well, we did write. I managed 1000 words on both weekend days. But again, there was much conversation. And 1000 words are okay numbers, but not NaNo numbers. Today is November 11th and my word count should be closing in on 20,000 words — instead I’m still under 8K. I’m approaching the zone where it’s going to be impossible to catch up. Not there quite yet, but getting close. Oh, well, I’ve been living a good life and that is more important than a word count! And Sunday was a beautiful day, with the kind of perfect Florida weather that has been scarce since I got here. We sat on Lynda’s porch and admired the water and talked for hours. A good day, even without the writing.

[image error]The moon rising, from the back deck.

I’m also taking a class right now, called Write Better Faster. It’s the course from the book I mentioned a few months ago, called Dear Writer, You Need to Quit. I got so much out of the book that when the class kept appearing in my awareness — Facebook friends taking it, conversations showing up about it in weird places — I decided it was worth a try, and would complement my NaNo efforts nicely. As it happens, I’m no longer thinking it complements NaNo — it’s pretty distracting. But the first week of the class was all personality tests and thinking about writing pain points and how they mesh with and are caused by our personalities. Sadly for me, so far I think I’ve learned I should be an editor not a writer, which is not really the learning I was hoping for. But there are three weeks of the class left to go, so I’m still optimistic. And it is interesting, even if it’s not yet helping me write better and faster.

In other mixed news — is it good or bad, I wonder? — my Kindle Fire is dead. I have no idea what happened to it, but I suspect it might be the charging cable or the connection, since it basically just stopped working and will not start again. I’m sorta bummed about this, because I was playing two games that want regular check-ins. I’m missing my chance to collect dragons and lumber! But it’s undoubtedly going to be good for my productivity to not be able to check in on those games when I am looking for distractions.

[image error] View from the van window, 6:30 AM, November 11, 2019.

And now I need to get on with my Monday. I’m headed back to Sanford today, but I think my major goal for the day is going to be to write a complete to-do list — all those things that I chose not to include in the first paragraph of this blog post! — and start working on checking a few of them off. Dentist appointment, doctor appointment, oil change for the van. Book files updated and uploaded. Newsletter written and sent, etc. etc. etc. At least Monday blog post is checked off! And honestly, I have no regrets. The first ten days of November might not have been nearly as productive as I wanted them to be, but they have been lovely, enjoyable days.

Best of October 2019

Today is not the last day of October. It’s not even the first day of November. Four days into November and I still haven’t written a Best of October post! What a disorganized blogger I am. Although in my defense, I finished a book and I’m 4700 words into a NaNo project, planning on getting back to it as soon as I post. So, yeah, words are being written.

October — wow. It started out at a driveway in Maine, included a quick Boston visit with some fantastic sushi, a night in a parking lot because of lousy weather, and a too-brief family visit in PA. And then, of course, my adventures in Virginia and North Carolina. Two national forest campgrounds and dispersed camping in a national forest, a national park campground (on the Blue Ridge Parkway), an Army Corps of Engineers campground, and a county park, followed by two more familiar driveways.

[image error]The Jefferson National Forest, according to my photos app.

Looking back over my daily words, I was sick for a tremendous amount of the month. Not the kind of thing I blog about usually, but boy, did I whine about it a lot in my morning words. Fortunately, that’s not going to be what I remember from the month. Instead, I will remember writing good words in a beautiful forest, feeling peaceful and happy while walking Zelda, appreciating some really incredible scenery while I drove — the Blue Ridge Parkway is gorgeous — and lots of nice sociability with family and friends.

But for my favorite place, the true highlight of my month, I’m going to pick Little Fort Campground in the George Washington National Forest, where in my morning words, I wrote:

Today is a day for thinking about Fen and appreciating my life. 

Ooh, I did mean to write about moments of awe. The best part of my drive yesterday was when I actually starting thinking about 2019, trying to remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done and it was… amazing? I feel like that’s such a strong word, but the reality was a canyon in Texas and the night sky, and feeling awed, and a farm on the Olympic Peninsula with Pam and loving the air & the oysters, and those sand dunes with Suzanne and sitting in a beautiful parking lot, and Fort Bragg, rainy sea glass beach, and cupcakes, and sushi with Chris, and a shooting star in Maine, and the front porch of Trish’s house, writing with a view, also in Maine, and so many, many beautiful memories.

But the things that really stood out were things like last night, listening to the wind in the trees, feeling these moments of awed surprised connection with nature. Night skies and water sunrises with fog and the music of the trees. Z is now up and just about to tell me that it’s time to open the door and it’s also time for me to eat breakfast, but it was really — well, amazing — to drive down the road and feel grouchy about driving and rain and traffic and have that turn into memories of beauty. And all beauty of the single past year. I am phenomenally lucky and blessed. Yes, my choices brought me here, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am lucky and blessed. 

Morning words are a little more incoherent than words I would usually post, but the three days that I spent in that forest were, for whatever reason, days where I really savored my life. Really good days, in other words. And I’m going to call them the best days of a solidly good month.

Best of October, 2019

Today is not the last day of October. It’s not even the first day of November. Four days into November and I still haven’t written a Best of October post! What a disorganized blogger I am. Although in my defense, I finished a book and I’m 4700 words into a NaNo project, planning on getting back to it as soon as I post. So, yeah, words are being written.

October — wow. It started out at a driveway in Maine, included a quick Boston visit with some fantastic sushi, a night in a parking lot because of lousy weather, and a too-brief family visit in PA. And then, of course, my adventures in Virginia and North Carolina. Two national forest campgrounds and dispersed camping in a national forest, a national park campground (on the Blue Ridge Parkway), an Army Corps of Engineers campground, and a county park, followed by two more familiar driveways.

[image error]The Jefferson National Forest, according to my photos app.

Looking back over my daily words, I was sick for a tremendous amount of the month. Not the kind of thing I blog about usually, but boy, did I whine about it a lot in my morning words. Fortunately, that’s not going to be what I remember from the month. Instead, I will remember writing good words in a beautiful forest, feeling peaceful and happy while walking Zelda, appreciating some really incredible scenery while I drove — the Blue Ridge Parkway is gorgeous — and lots of nice sociability with family and friends.

But for my favorite place, the true highlight of my month, I’m going to pick Little Fort Campground in the George Washington National Forest, where in my morning words, I wrote:

Today is a day for thinking about Fen and appreciating my life. 

Ooh, I did mean to write about moments of awe. The best part of my drive yesterday was when I actually starting thinking about 2019, trying to remember where I’ve been and what I’ve done and it was… amazing? I feel like that’s such a strong word, but the reality was a canyon in Texas and the night sky, and feeling awed, and a farm on the Olympic Peninsula with Pam and loving the air & the oysters, and those sand dunes with Suzanne and sitting in a beautiful parking lot, and Fort Bragg, rainy sea glass beach, and cupcakes, and sushi with Chris, and a shooting star in Maine, and the front porch of Trish’s house, writing with a view, also in Maine, and so many, many beautiful memories.

But the things that really stood out were things like last night, listening to the wind in the trees, feeling these moments of awed surprised connection with nature. Night skies and water sunrises with fog and the music of the trees. Z is now up and just about to tell me that it’s time to open the door and it’s also time for me to eat breakfast, but it was really — well, amazing — to drive down the road and feel grouchy about driving and rain and traffic and have that turn into memories of beauty. And all beauty of the single past year. I am phenomenally lucky and blessed. Yes, my choices brought me here, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am lucky and blessed. 

Morning words are a little more incoherent than words I would usually post, but the three days that I spent in that forest were, for whatever reason, days where I really savored my life. Really good days, in other words. And I’m going to call them the best days of a solidly good month.

A Precarious Magic

11:28 PM. First draft, done. The words “The End” written.

Not quite a sigh of satisfaction, because, you know, first draft. My ending still needs work, I’ve already got plans for some major word-chopping in the first third. But… well, pretty close to a sigh of satisfaction. And just in time to start a NaNo project tomorrow!

[image error]

Progress, lack thereof

I was having one of those delightful, half-asleep, creative bursts of inspiration — where all the story pieces are just flowing from one interesting moment to another and it all feels fantastically fun — and then I fully woke up, and thought, “What???” I think there was a banana peel involved. I’d love to know how banana peels became so emblematic of slapstick humor. I bet it was an old movie. Because, really, how often does one slip on a banana peel? How often is there a banana peel lying in the street? Anyway, my half-asleep self was having fun, but not making a lot of sense.

Also, my half-asleep self was working on the wrong book. Bad, half-asleep self, bad. Last week, my gluten-reaction kept me from finishing APM. I wasn’t so sick that I ever fully regretted my choices — and now that it’s over, I definitely think the corned beef was worth it — but I was sick enough that writing was not happening. So it goes.

Last night, I was explaining my plans for this week — they included a lot of, “I will stare at my file, I will get discouraged, I will go do something different,” — when Greg, C’s bf, started asking me questions. It was awesome. He asked exactly the right questions to precipitate ideas. I’m not 100% of the way there, but I’m close enough that I’m hoping for great things for today and tomorrow.

[image error]Zelda, adorably asleep, with her paw over her nose.

While I was sick, I read the whole file again, a little bit in “first revisions” mode, ie searching for places with problems, slow parts, things that would need to be cut or have major revisions made. I wound up not marking it for any revisions at all, because I was too engrossed in the story. The beginning felt slow, but that might just be because it’s too familiar to me now, since I’ve edited it numerous times. But it made me laugh. It’s not the story I set out to write at all, but it’s definitely fun. And now I’m going to get back into it. Happy Monday!

A Perfect Disney Day

Drinking coffee through cough drops — not a good idea. Just saying.

Yesterday was a perfect Disney day. Truly perfect. The weather was nice, the crowds were light, and the lines were all tolerable. C & I got to Animal Kingdom by 8 and were on the Pandora ride before 9. It was my first time on the ride, the one where it feels like you’re riding a dragon, and it was truly spectacular.

The line was so short that we made it to the safari ride by 9:30 or so, which is the exactly right time to be on that ride. We saw ALL the animals, most of them active. The cheetahs were up and wandering, the warthogs were out, the giraffes were in the middle of the road waiting to be bribed away with treats. And the elephants were fighting, which was both amazing to see and a little bit scary. It only lasted a minute and then the smaller elephant turned his back on his slightly bigger brother and walked away. Big brother followed him, totally trying to make up. You could practically see him saying, “Don’t be mad, don’t be mad.”

[image error]I didn’t have my phone or camera with me, so I stole this photo from C. But this is just after the elephants were locking tusks.

After the safari ride, we headed to Epcot for the Food & Wine Festival, but before we ate, we went on Soaring, another of Disney’s best rides. I like the rides where you’re floating above beautiful scenery more than the roller coasters, I guess.

The Food & Wine Festival was always my favorite event at Disney. Over the years, it’s gotten bigger and bigger. The first time I went with R, we tried food from every country and left stuffed. That wouldn’t even be possible now. It would cost a fortune and there are just too many countries and types of food represented. But they’ve extended the time of the festival from a few weeks to months, from August to November, so it would be easy to go back again and again.

I probably won’t, however. This year they didn’t have a lot of gluten-free options. Some, definitely, and I could have eaten well only trying the GF options. Instead, I said the hell with it, and for the first time since 2016, consciously, knowingly ate foods with gluten. Smoked corned beef with a beer-fondue sauce; chimichurri skirt steak on corn bread; seared sea scallops with brussels sprouts and celery root puree; beef stroganoff with egg noodles; maple bourbon cheesecake; jerked chicken with roasted plantain salad; kenyan coffee barbecue beef tenderloin; and warm chocolate pudding with Irish cream liqueur custard. The corned beef, which I would never have chosen on my own, was definitely my favorite. It was delicious. (C & I were sharing plates, and the plates are tapas-style small plates — it was a lot of food, but not Roman-banquet-style quantities. :))

Was it worth it? I think so. It was fun, anyway. But I am now in the throes of an immune-system panic attack, which started much faster than I expected it to. I was coughing up a storm by 8PM, so it only took 8 hours instead of the usual 36. Fingers crossed that it doesn’t last longer or get more intense, but today is definitely feeling like the kind of day that’s going to involve binge-watching television with copious quantities of tissues nearby, instead of doing anything useful. So it goes. Yesterday was still a perfect Disney day.

Florida and KU

[image error]

Tropical Storm Nestor inspired me to hurry to Florida. I really didn’t want to have to drive through the storm, so Thursday turned into a long driving day, and I managed to reach Mount Dora by midday on Friday.

I spent Thursday night at a free county park in Georgia, Barrington County Park. It would have been much nicer if a neighbor hadn’t needed to run his generator all night long and if an off-leash black Lab hadn’t really wanted to investigate Zelda, far beyond what Z was comfortable with. Sigh. And it was half an hour off the highway, so added an hour to my overall drive. Next time, I think I’d just sleep at a truck stop or a Walmart. But it was a nice drive down exciting dirt roads and good to get off the highway for a while.

I’ve since had a lovely weekend with my dad and stepmom in Mount Dora. We didn’t do much, but it’s nice to be here. Upon arriving, I told my dad that for Christmas I wanted enough storage to download a ton of books to a device, enough so I really can carry a library with me, not just have a library available in the cloud. My extended time without internet was fine, except my book supply with too limited. He promptly handed me a card for my Fire tablet and I spent Saturday morning downloading approximately 500 books.

Yay, reading material! Boo, temptation! I’m trying to resist the impulse to reread everything I own by Robin McKinley, Dick Francis, and Kathleen Gilles Seidel, all of which I’d kind of forgotten about because they were buried so deep in my Kindle library.

Meanwhile, I wanted to mention that Cici is part of Magical Escapes, a Kindle Unlimited book promotion this month. If you’re a Kindle Unlimited subscriber and like fantasy, lots of interesting titles are included in the group. And if you’re not a KU subscriber, you still might find some books you like! I downloaded several, but with all the driving, I haven’t had a chance to read them yet. (Also, I admit, Robin McKinley is distracting me. I’m rereading Rose Daughter for the umpteenth time. It’s not in KU, but the Kindle edition is available for $2.99, which is a good deal, IMO.)

Exploring North Carolina

My Tuesday did not get less exciting. Or less frustrating, actually. 

Or less fortunate, for that matter. 

I drove away from Pisgah, heading toward Asheville. It wouldn’t be my day to write, but that was okay, it would be my day to explore. I stopped along the way to eat breakfast, pulling into a random empty parking lot. Breakfast was fine, just my usual yogurt and granola, but the parking lot had an unexpected dip to the exit. When I pulled out, I heard the kind of crunch that you get if you go over a speed bump too fast. 

Oops. 

Sorry, Serenity.

It wasn’t more than ten miles down the road before I started to hear a noise. It wasn’t a big noise. I tried to convince myself for the space of one traffic light that I was hearing my dirty dishes rattle in the sink. And then I pulled over into another empty parking lot, and got out and walked around the van. 

Damn it. 

The brackets that had fallen off in Yellowstone were hanging loose again. And this time, one of the weird metal pieces that ought to be holding the bracket in place was gone. 

Plans derailed. 

But! I was in a town! Which meant I had cell service, yay. I googled RV service and called a place in Asheville, 15 miles away. They recommended a truck service place only two miles away. So I zip-tied the brackets in place (sorta) and drove to the truck repair shop. 

The woman behind the counter said that someone might be able to take a look around 3PM. I said that was fine, I’d hang out in the parking lot, since I couldn’t really drive with parts hanging loose. She asked what I thought the problem was. 

I said, “I think it’s probably trivial, except not trivial for me, because I can’t fix it myself.” 

She said, “Let me come take a look.” 

About half an hour later, as she was lying under the van in the parking lot with a lug wrench and a part that one of the guys in the shop had cut down to size for her, I asked her, “How often are you the person who ends up lying on the ground in the parking lot?” 

She replied, “Very, very, very, very, very, very, very seldom.” 

That was what I thought. 

She wouldn’t let me pay her anything, not even for the parts, so I hugged her and told her she was my goddess. And if you are ever in Black Mountain, North Carolina:  Valley Truck Service, absolutely fantastic service. I wish I’d thought to ask her name, but I will be eternally grateful for her efforts. 

(The brackets actually run under the black tank, not the generator, and I think they’re probably just holding the heated drainage system in place. Or rather, were holding the heated drainage system in place. I suspect I also lost a piece of the insulation yesterday, but driving slowly along the highway looking for it felt like it would be a stupid idea.) 

My next decision also turned out to be a stupid idea. So it goes. But I’d been thinking I’d explore Asheville for a while, then drive up to Great Smoky Mountains National Park, then look for a campground. But it’s been getting dark really early, and I didn’t want to wind up in the park when it was too late to actually see or do anything. So I decided to first go to the park, then to come back and explore Asheville. 

It was a beautiful drive — no regrets on the drive. I wound up back on the Blue Ridge Parkway, which is just gorgeous. 

[image error]The Blue Ridge Parkway in North Carolina.



[image error]More of the Blue Ridge Parkway

But Great Smoky Mountains reminded me of why I avoid the national parks. It was ridiculously crowded. On a Tuesday! There was no room in the parking lot at the visitor center at all. I drove through, then drove through again, then looked for nearby overflow parking, then said “the hell with it.” 

At that point, I felt like I’d been on the road forever and I was exhausted. And traffic was stop-and-go, roads packed with people, just miserable. 

So I headed to Asheville, but by the time I got there, it was rush hour. And Asheville really is a city. A lovely city, it looks very fun, and I understand why people always say it’s great. But cities at rush hour are not terribly convenient places for camper vans with tired drivers. I’d decided that my first stop would be a fancy grocery store, “better than Whole Foods” according to an online review, to buy myself a well-deserved gluten-free treat, but there was absolutely no chance of parking anywhere nearby. And so I wound up back on the highway, headed south. 

After a stop at a non-fancy grocery store, where I picked up a rotisserie chicken, some potato chips, and a gluten-free pumpkin chocolate chip muffin — (Total win for the healthy dinner, yeah? I think those are my worst food choices for a “meal” in months) — I made my way to North Mills River Campground, still in the Pisgah National Forest, but a real campground. 

I hate my site, which is totally on me. Why did I pick it? I actually think I picked it because it was close to the dumpster, which reminded me that I really needed to get rid of a full garbage bag, but it’s also fairly private, no other campsites in immediate view. But it’s sloped, and the van door opens onto the road, so Z can’t be outside on her tie-out without actually being in traffic. Not that there’s been much traffic, but it’s the principle of the thing. 

[image error]My sloped site. It’s actually really pretty, with a little brook trickling by and a path into the woods. It would be great for a tent camper.

On the other hand, it is a nice quiet national forest, and it was very reasonably priced ($11 with an America the Beautiful pass), and rumor has it that there are showers. I paid for two nights when I arrived, then when I realized how stupid my site pick was, I thought I might leave after one anyway. But instead I’ve been writing blog posts and taking nice walks and puttering around the van. 

And being grateful. 

Tuesday was not a fun day. It was definitely not the excellent day that I was looking forward to when I was writing my morning words. But I didn’t get shot, I didn’t spend the day in a truck service shop parking lot, I wasn’t in the accident that totally snarled traffic in Cherokee. It could have been so much worse. 

And, on the positive side, the woman at Valley Truck Service was fantastic. The scenery was beautiful. A helpful store clerk found me my gluten-free treat at my non-fancy grocery store, and Zelda loved the rotisserie chicken, gobbling it down with enormous enthusiasm after a few days of being picky about her food. So all is well. 

I suspect that I am not going to finish writing APM while on the road, but I’ll have plenty of time once I get to Florida to focus. It’ll be a lot easier when I’m not thinking about things like where I’m going to spend the night and when I might shower again and whether I should try to find a laundromat. (Yes, I should. I’m probably not going to, though. But my first order of business on my Saturday arrival is definitely going to be a load of laundry and a real shower!)

The Pisgah National Forest, North Carolina

In my opinion, the problem with first person point-of-view is that it inherently lacks suspense. If I’m telling the story, obviously I survived the story. That’s always the good news, though, when you’re writing a blog post!

So, I had a rather lovely Monday. I took my time leaving Bandit’s Roost, appreciating my electricity and the availability of water and having another nice walk with Zelda where we went nowhere, but she enjoyed the smells. It was a beautiful day.

[image error]

It was even a nice day for a drive. We wandered around back roads in North Carolina, staying off the highways, but heading toward Asheville. I did a little shopping at a Salvation Army store and managed to replace the jeans that developed holes in the knees a few weeks ago, plus picked up a cotton sweater to add to my warm weather layer collection. I also had a pleasant chat with a woman in the parking lot, who was impressed that I was traveling by myself. 

She wanted to know if I carried a weapon with me. 

I do not. 

She shook her head and eyed the van, and told me that I was very brave. 

Eh, I don’t usually think so. Bad things can happen anywhere, but they’re random, IMO, no more likely to happen on the road then when you’re at home. I told her that my weapon was my car keys: if I ever felt unsafe, I just drove away. 

Isn’t it strange how life provides its own foreshadowing sometimes? 

Eventually, in the early afternoon, I headed up into the hills of Pisgah National Forest to check out the Curtis Creek National Forest campground. The drive was up a winding narrow dirt road with multiple one-lane bridges — not scary, particularly, but definitely the kind of road where I had moments of wondering what I was getting myself into. The campground itself was unusual for a national forest campground in that most of the sites seemed to be clustered together in a small meadow. I kept driving, hoping to find a site that was a little more private and suddenly I was out of the campground, still climbing up into the mountains. But the road was narrow and there wasn’t any easy place to turn around. As I kept going, I passed a couple parked vehicles with tents set up in the woods. It wasn’t the campground. They were “dispersed” camping, aka free camping in the national forests, at spots just off the road. 

After several minutes of driving, I found a spot in the road wide enough that I thought I could turn Serenity around. But instead of turning, I parked and ate a late lunch and considered the idea of dispersed camping. I hadn’t really done it before and maybe it was the conversation I’d had with the woman at the Salvation Army store, but it felt sort of spooky. It was so very isolated. Seriously, I was alone in the forest. No neighbors, no one around at all. And I had no cell service, of course, nor internet. 

It was a beautiful forest, though. Lots of green and a little bit of autumn color, and I could hear running water from a nearby brook and birds chirping. Z and I went for a cautious walk in the woods while I thought about bears and broken ankles and the amazing beauty of real nature. 

[image error]The babbling brook in the forest near my parking spot.

And then we came back to Serenity and settled in. I opened the windows, and started reading my book, and Z snuggled up and went to sleep. As it got dark, I listened to the sound of the brook and appreciated the chilly fresh air while a full moon started to rise. Then, of course, I thought about werewolves, and wished I hadn’t read so many shifter romances that start with a woman being attacked in a remote forest. The light from the moon was so bright that twice I checked to be sure I hadn’t left the outside light on, but I hadn’t. 

In the morning, I was feeling ever so cheerful and optimistic. I’d had a restless night, but had two good ideas about the ending of APM, and my free campsite in the woods felt like a fine place to spend the day. Totally isolated. I’d get out the computer and do nothing but think about Fen until I was finished. 

And then I heard a car pull up and stop right next to me.  

Huh. 

That was odd. 

A ranger? I didn’t think I needed a permit for dispersed camping, but maybe I did. The car was behind the van, so I opened the bathroom door to look out the back window. 

It was not a car, it was a pickup truck. 

And it was not a ranger. 

The guy who’d gotten out of the truck was scruffy, pudgy, dressed in camouflage. He was behind the hood of the truck and he was doing something that I couldn’t quite see. 

But… and this was clearly paranoia on my part… it looked like he was loading a gun. 

I watched him for several seconds that felt like several long minutes. 

Okay, yep, he was loading a gun. 

That was not paranoia. That was what he was doing.

That… didn’t feel like a good thing. 

I glanced back into the van. I had a bunch of kitchen stuff out. Olive oil, dishes, hot water on the stove for making coffee. How fast could I safely put things away? 

Then I heard a car door slam. I looked at the pickup truck again, and nothing had changed. No one else was there, just the guy with his gun. So I scooted over to the front of the van and yanked open the curtain that separates the seats from the kitchen. 

Another pickup truck was parked in front of me. Two men had gotten out. Both of them were carrying guns, too. 

And neither of them was remotely scary, because they were both wearing bright orange baseball caps on top of their camouflage. 

Hunters. 

Guess what October 15th probably is in North Carolina? I say probably because I don’t know for sure, not having had internet access, but I’m going to guess that it is the opening day of deer-hunting season. Because for the next twenty minutes, while I packed up the van and got ready to go, truck after truck after truck drove up my remote forest road, carrying guys, guns, and dogs. Lots of dogs. Also more men with guns than I have ever seen in my life. Like, by a lot. Like, by an enormous amount. 

It was a party. A gun-toting, deer-hunting,* celebration of fall, party. 

By 9AM, I was on the road, driving cautiously to avoid hitting pickup trucks on the one-lane bridges. So many trucks, so many people. So not the glorious day of isolated writing in a beautiful spot that I was anticipating. 

But one of my travel games — a thing I think about to entertain myself when driving — is to try to remember an experience I’ve had in every state. And I am fairly sure that the moment of watching a guy load his gun while contemplating how fast I would be able to get the van moving will get to be North Carolina’s memory for a good long time. Maybe forever. 

*They could have been hunting something else. Do you need dogs to hunt deers? I am no expert, so I would google, but I have no internet, so can’t. Whatever they were hunting, it was not random women camping alone or small white dogs, so it was fine by me.