The Re-Gifting of Christmas Past

It's Boxing day.  Except there are no leftovers to box up.  And no guests to give it to.  The Chick couldn't get a day off until later in the week, so the big dinner is yet to come.
 
We have a new house this year, and our bikes are still new enough.  There's always stuff we want, of course, but nothing we really need.  

So Popeye said, "No presents." 

And I agreed.  "No presents."

Then suddenly, on Christmas Eve, Popeye had a vision. 

A Christmas vision.  Of a Christmas-yet-to-be.

He saw a long Christmas Day at home, with no guests, no toys to play with, no gadgetry to decipher. 

In a sudden urge to change this dismal future, he decided he wanted to go to the mall with 45 minutes to closing.

After receiving a solemn promise that we would be done in time to buy a turkey on the way home, I finally agreed to go shopping.  Not to the actual mall, but rather to the far side of the mall.  The stores that make up the hinterlands of the mall.  Sports Authority.  Best Buy.  Chain restaurants.  A movie theatre.  

Gadgets and restaurants are tolerable to my shopping phobia.  Clothing and shoe stores are not.  Especially on Christmas eve.  

Twenty minutes in.  We are relaxed, under no pressure.  "Just looking," we tell the clerk. 

Others do not have this immunity.  No one is there to shop. Everyone is there to buy, and the sky's the limit.  We find it is fun to observe the feverish crowd, as long as you are not among the infected.

I would have been fine with the simple joy of closing down Best Buy on Christmas Eve.  After all, there would be an hour left to do the real shopping.  That is, to buy a turkey at Publix on the way home. 

But somehow I ended up with a Kindle. 

And Popeye got... nothing. 

Not only that, but all our favorite indulgences dangle right there on the fringes of the mall.  Following this night of witnessing the true fever of gifting, neither of us has the willpower to ignore such carrots of distraction as beer, nachos, a movie.  

Suddenly it was midnight Christmas eve. 

Popeye had changed his Christmas future by officially getting me a present.  He now had a gadget to figure out on Christmas morning, while my big Christmas day project - the turkey dinner - had turned into the simplicity of leftover chili. 

Not only that, but there I was empty handed.  Santa's zero hour!  And no hope of acquiring a decent present to put under the tree (the tree that we hadn't put up) by morning.  

In that time honored tradition of Christmas desperation, I did as so many have done before.   

I re-gifted.

Up in the attic, wedged up under the shelter of brand new trusses still smelling of sawdust, sits a popular present from a few years ago and I clump over the floorboards as quietly as I can to fetch it.  Perfect!  I tie on a nice red ribbon from the wrappings box, and stash it away in the garage for morning. 

OK, so the ribbon that looked red in the attic lighting turned out to be pink in the light of Christmas morning.  The tire was soft, and the sidewalls were a tad yellowed, but it was a hit anyway.  As soon as he got the Kindle set up, he pumped up the tire and went out to play.

How to ride a unicycle:

Start by finding something to hang on to.

Then just be as tenacious as all get out.

With the new Kindle all to myself, I sit down to shop for a book.  I spend 99 cents right away.  No guilt, though.  You never know.  Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse could end up saving us both someday.  It's not the gift but the spirit of sharing it that counts, right? 

Thank goodness we both like chili.
 

 Check back in a week.

He'll have it down by then.

 

 

This is your brain. This is your brain on cake.

Now, that was difficult.  Studying for my annual test.  Blood test, that is.  Once a year the docs like to check up on the basics.  I think it's a little silly, but I go in for the blood letting anyway.  Basically I just humor them.  I figure it doesn't hurt for them to know my cholesterol and vitamin D are fine.  That way they won't bug me the rest of the year.

But having it done two days after cutting into the biggest chocolate cake I have ever had - now that was tough.  I had to put the remains in the freezer, lest frosting overload put my blood in such a state that the doctors actually would bug me the rest of the year. 

December already.  After the birthday, and the birthday check up, it's straight into Christmas mode.  

But it's still early too.  So the noose of Christmas panic hasn't drawn all that tight.  Not yet, anyway.  Time to have some fun with it while there are still some choices about what I want to do, vs. what I have to do.

But first - to put up the rest of the pictures of the Appalachian trip.  October seems so very long ago and far away.  A lot of miles since.  Most all of them local.  

One last bit of time travel then, before getting down to the business of Christmas, and charging head on into January's Tour de Felasco. 

So back to DuPont. 

Even with Northstar gone, and her in-head GPS gone with her, we manage to find the covered bridge on our own.  And a whole bunch of waterfalls. 

After about a zillion miles of leafy climb'y horse'y trails, we end with Ridgeline and one long, swooping downhill.  Worth the trip right there.

High Falls

 

Sometimes it hard to tell where the trail is.

 

 

And then for a little variety, a hike.

 

We decide to drive up to the Blue Ridge

and walk to the top of Mt. Pisgah.

Looks far, but it's only 1.5 miles.

 

 

 

 

 

Once again - The view is worth the climb.

 

 

So much for Tuesday.  It would be cool to try and connect with Scrub Jay up in Raleigh, but with the hasty non-planning, we have already run ourselves out of time. 

 

On Wednesday, it's down from the heights of North Carolina for our meet up with Sailor and Cap'n Bligh at super swoopy Jack Rabbit on the Georgia border.

 

No one is allowed to get lost at Jack Rabbit.

Signs at every decision point.

 

 

 

 

Cap'n Bligh and Popeye.

Loop #2 for Popeye.  Loop#1 for the rest of us.

I believe the discussion may be something about

there being a cooler back in the car.

 

 

The next day, Sailor and the Cap'n head back to Florida to switch from mountain biking to boatyard mode, and once again we are on our own for a day before meeting our friend Sara at Blankets Creek.

 

From the Jack Rabbit area, it's a quick drive to a spot where the Appalachian Trail crosses the highway.  We decide as long as we're here...

 

 

 

 

Popeye probably would have kept going all the way to Maine, but I was bored. 

 

After a couple hours, up and down, down and up, the leafy shuffle got old quickly for me.  Trees and leaves.  Leaves and trees.  Even when we topped the climbs, there was no reward, no view.  Only more trees and more leaves.  Geeze.

 

View from the top.

 

A couple hours of that, and I was more than ready to find a real hike, with some real climbing, and a real view.    

 

Which turned out to be something real touristy.   

 

But it's touristy for good reason.  If you're going to be on foot, who wouldn't rather see Tallulah Gorge?  It's worth seeing. 

 

Tallulah Gorge is gorgeous. 

 

 

 

There's four hundred-something steps to descend, and climb back up, in a couple different places, with a cool suspension bridge crossing the gap.  So the three mile hike around the rim and down into the gorge is not quite as sissy as it sounds.

 

 

And here, unlike Dick's Gap, the view is worth the climb.    It's even worth the extra hour of car time.

 

And speaking of time, I am out of it once again.

 

It may be next year before getting back to this.  

 

So, just in case the Christmas crunch takes the last bite of my December, I'll say it now.

 

Happy Winter Solstice.  Longer days and shorter nights to come.

 

 

 

DuPont to Dauset, part 2 - not

Local trail feeling stale?  Wait a few hours.  It gets better.

Seriously.  Try a night ride.  On a dark, dark night.  Preferably with a bit of mist hanging in the air.  Make sure it's off road.  Or maybe in stealth mode.  Through the back gate of a park that closes at sundown.

 

 

Especially if the powers that be have already made the park a little scary-looking.   Even in the daytime.

Is that three burns this year so far?  Or four?

C'mon,  even scrub jays can't live on charcoal.

 

October in N.C.

Darn.  But I wasn't finished with October yet.  November is rushing me.  And it's a sure bet that December will be even worse.  Oh well, if ever there were two months to get over and done with it is these two, right?  

Present time.  December 5th.  I just discovered this feint at posting, saved from 3 weeks ago.  I might as well have written it today. 

Last night was a Tuesday night.  Another loop of the Park in the dark.  Still stinks of charcoal too.  The only real difference - this time we are joined by Semi.  And we get yelled at by a ranger when we try to shortcut too near to the $5 (or is it $10 for admission now?) holiday light fest along the paved section of the park. 

I totally agree with the ranger that it is dangerous to be in that part of the park at night.  There's electric cords strung all over the place.  There are tourist types paying more attention to the lights, and cranky kids in the backseat, than driving.  Not a good night to be anywhere near the road.  So we demurely head back the way we came in.  And duck into the dark protection of wooded singletrack at first opportunity.  We even dismount for the log crossing.  You really can't be too safe. 

From tourists, that is.

Part #2, coming soon. 
OK. 
Coming eventually.