Regular Life

Duke Chapel Arch

On this trip, I got out, saw places, and met people. I did not, however, saw people. That’s just wrong. What if you made that famous line from The Sixth Sense past tense? “I saw dead people.” That could make the movie either a ghost story or a gorefest.

Click any pic below to enlarge.

From five destinations suggested by a Meetup.com hiking group organizer, I chose Eno River State Park after Tuesday’s class. I was careful not to reveal where I was going, lest someone be waiting there ready to saw live people. The entire Durham area is wooded, but this was a secluded place about five minutes from downtown. The river, reminiscent of what I call a large creek, ran down over boulders and through long pools. Wildflowers dotted the landscape. Finding a place like that near the Dallas metro area takes nearly a three-hour drive.

With apologies to my friend and University of Connecticut fan Dave, after my hike I visited Duke University. The drive to find the chapel was a nice tour of the hilly, wooded campus. I found and snapped a few pics of the chapel, as well as the statue of Duke himself. It’s fitting that a man who made his fortune on tobacco is immortalized with a huge stogie between his fingers.

Wanting to wait around for pictures of the chapel after dark, I went to grab a bite to eat in the Bryan Center. Coincidentally, I ate at the Armadillo Grill, which boasts “Taste as big as Texas.” It was passable Tex-Mex fare. I called Shannon and talked to her before saying goodnight to Ben. He actually answers questions on the phone now instead of just making unintelligible noises as he pushes the phone away.

Huge floodlights shine on the massive chapel tower all night, every night. Sans tripod, I had some trouble getting images I liked, but they’re good enough for posterity if not prosperity. I could not do justice to the chapel’s insides. If you’re ever in or close to Durham, then see the Duke campus. It’s right purty.

To be fair, I zipped through the University of North Carolina’s Chapel Hill campus before going to the airport Thursday. It is a large campus, too, and aesthetically on the mark. No pics from there, though. Sorry.

Something about college campuses makes me comfortable. I think that’s because they’re a bastion of hope. The working world still has not hit a majority of the students, and the atmosphere reflects that. They smile and laugh, sit under trees waxing philosophic. Their oblivion protects them. Some of them realize this as the end nears, and do all they can to stay.

Subsequent side trips revealed more of Durham and Raleigh. The area is growing quickly, yet somehow manages to maintain green space. Where we live, building new subdivisions is much simpler because only corn fields are in the way. For kicks, Wednesday I asked my new acquaintances in the hiking club the distance to Charlotte, where my company has a large location. At two hours, it’s a little too far to drive on this trip.

This was an interesting group. Four of the nine were teachers, and one was a former teacher. While in that profession, she piled weight on her 5′2″ frame until she topped out at 165 lbs. Present day she’s the same height but is a personal trainer who runs marathons. I asked her if she had very many computer nerds as clients. She said, in a nutshell, not so much. I think she and I made some of those still teaching a little uncomfortable as we expounded on why that field was not for us. Of course, we did that before we knew they were teachers. But still — oops.

Two of the teachers I’m pretty sure were a lesbian couple, and one guy just returned from a stint managing a pharmacy in Las Vegas. He confirmed that people do, in fact, live in Vegas. Who knew? Another man was a real estate agent, and I have no idea what the others did for a living. It was a long table. Give me a break.

Hiking clubs create an interesting social dynamic. A significant motivation for hiking is to get away from people, to hear voices of only the birds and other forest creatures. By definition, clubs rely on gatherings, which, as we know from experience, induce palavering. Hiking clubs could use this rallying cry: “Let’s all get secluded.” My commentary might seem disingenuous coming from one of the chattiest people on the trail.

Often superior to the hiking club is the hiking stick. The hiking stick will never let you down, and always goes where you want to go. It will not continue along the trail as you sit beside the stream you just forded trying to pull socks onto damp feet. On the other hand, while a hiking stick can help you get back to the trailhead after twisting an ankle, you’re better off with a hiking club when you’ve snapped your tibia.

Here are a few more pictures to round out the collection.