heading southwest and asheville bound on the first real leg of my trip

 

After a week in the DC area I head southwest, first for a lunch break in Charlottesville, and then onto my first real stop of this road trip: Asheville, North Carolina. Despite knowing my general way around DC, I find that I feel overwhelmed navigating the city alone and other than when I am people watching on the metro or heading across the Potomac into the familiarity of northern Virginia, I feel lost from myself.

The drive to Asheville is beautiful- Virginia and North Carolina have always been my favourite states for driving. The roads and highways are bordered with endless hills and valleys seemingly made up entirely of trees that roll continuously in green until the dark green blends into shades of blue against the horizon. Even if you were never told, you would know you were in the blue ridge mountains. There is a softness to the vast expanse of the mountain ridges and as a child I perceived the tree-laden peaks as I did clouds; it is as if you could fall into either of them and they would cradle you in a gentle cushion. Moving further southwest the greenery changes subtly and everything drips with ivy and leaves and the mountains seem somehow bigger and the horizon slips farther away into the distance.

looking out onto the blue ridge mountains

I arrive in Asheville right around sunset, just in time to see the sun rupture and spill out all golden against the mountains. As I drive the last 25 or so miles the cars surrounding me on the road are bumper stickered and homey, rather than sleek and uninviting. A man in worn out threads with a large grey beard and a walking stick waves from across the highway as he continues to trek the opposite way. There is something contented about him, something that reminds me momentarily of the unusual luxury of detachment from normal society. Even before I have completely arrived in the city, Asheville is welcoming me in.