Alison drove from Nashville and I from DC to spend our fourth 4th of July together, in Wilkes County, North Carolina.
When we went to bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. The night was loud with the chorus of treefrogs and the rush of the flood-swollen creek and the long hammer of repeated downpours. An inch of water flooded our shoes in the tent vestibule, and beneath our sleeping pads the tent’s floor gave way like the surface of a water bed.
And we noticed that this thing–what was this thing?, and did that slime trail behind it mean it was pooping?–had crawled up the side of our tent sometime during the night.
In Wilkes County, we never did get to hike up or even see Stone Mountain, the park’s namesake, but we did get to explore in other ways.
When the rain finally cleared for a few hours in the evening, we took a walk around the campground–the smell of post-rain mist mixing with curls of smoke rising from campfires and meat cooking on grills.
What a weekend for celebrating Independence Day! I didn’t know this kind of Americana existed outside mainstream country music songs. But it does, or at least a bit of it does, in Wilkes County.