A Better TreeHouse (reserved for the indoctrinated)

After waiting around the hostel all day for UPS to deliver a new GPS (which was no longer necessary because my old one recovered itself somehow) I planned my next stop after leaving Charleston, SC.  I had heard of the hostel in the forest from a guy in a bar who said he always stopped there when in the area.  The web site  described a very hippy/new-agey sounding place where one sleeps in tree-houses, the toilets compost with sawdust, and communal vegan dinner is served in a common house. A sample quote:

Almost out of a canoe

These sentiments filled me with dread but my interest was piqued by the notion of sleeping in a tree-house and getting the inside dope on all the talk of intentional community that I’d been hearing since staying in hostels on this trip.  So with only incorrectly input latitude/longitude coordinates (ignorance on my part) and no small measure of fear of the phrase intentional community,

Path Not To Be Driven On

I arrived a collection of vehicles parked near a bamboo gate with a wide sandy path leading into the forest.   On my Rambo-influenced motorbike I was eyed suspiciously by two twenty-somethings unloading a pickup truck. I confirmed that the path indeed lead to the hostel and proceeded to head down the path only to be  yelled at by one of the disgruntled community members.  My second failure came upon registration – the messy dreadlocked fellow’s first act of greeting was to spread his arms – my inability to be sufficiently huggy with strangers must have registered on my face as he hesitated and then we engaged in a sort of chest-bumping hug and my hand rubbed a greasy dreadlock against his back.

My 'Treehouse'

I was then engaged in a tour explaining the glass house -ideal for mediation in the morning apparently, or yoga if the fancy took me as it apparently does others.  Next stop included an overly detailed description and inspection of the workings of the composting-sawdust toilet and how the resulting material was then used to fertilize the forest floor – but no longer the food that was being grown and served for dinner as the state had forbade it despite their own research which had attested to it’s safety.

After being lead past the outdoor showers (clothing optional – what a relief), and zen rock maze. I was shown my treehouse known as the screen house – as it had screens for walls.  It isn’t particularly treehouse-like and doesn’t have a light unlike many of the others.  I took a canoe around the lake and almost fell in taking a picture of myself with the camera on the platform in the middle of the lake.

Hostel Main House

The dinner bell gonged once, and then again signifying it was time to eat. When we were gathered in the dining hall everyone formed a circle and held hands.   It was then announced by the ringleader (the one who had shouted to me when I tried to drive down the garden path) that we would be going around the circle announcing who we were, where we were from, and what we were thankful for.  It turns out I was thankful for finding a place to stay that wasn’t a Motel 6.  Many of the others were effusive and imaginative in their thanks – thanks for toes and elbows, thanks for the wood I was able to chop today, the sky etc.   My favourite was the meta-thanks – “thanks for all the beautiful

Creepy Hostel Photo Wall

thankful people here today”.   After a brown rice, vegetable curry, and salad dinner which was good in that hippy/vegan way, we were instructed by that most taciturn ringleader that we were to take turns cleaning up.

All the long-term inmates appear to be either blissed-out, smiling Stepford Wive’s smiles,or mean like the ringleader. There was however one motorcyclist hippy who seemed to be good humoured about it – but even with him I didn’t try out any sarcasm or humour in the face of this onslaught of dogmatic thankful happiness.

Better Treehouse	Savannah, GA	Savannah, Ga	View from my Treehouse
My Treehouse
			Better Treehouse
Intentional Gifts	Ducks	Duck	Main house
Glass House Meditation Pond	Better Treehouse	Me Meditating	Park Art
Hostel Photos	Hostel Photos	Community Buildings	Community Kitchen
Community Pond	Community Pond	Community Path Not to be driven on

Savannah To The Forest Hostel

Athens, GA to Augusta, GA

Night in West Asheville, NC

I went to the ‘blues jam’ at the west Asheville Westville pub last night and was engrossed watching the locals – young and old alike – dance with different partners to the music.  They were so sincere in their dancing and obviously enjoying themselves that I finally felt like I’d arrived in The South.  One severe faced girl with a mouth that seemed to contain huge buck teeth on account of the jowls she had, would dance with every partner and to every dance with her hand on her partner’s back, at a rigid angle with only the thumb and forefinger touching his back – as if to suggest anything else would be prurient.

The HoneyCutters : Irene

In the morning on the Blue Ridge Parkway a rock slide had occurred above the French Broad River and the road was closed. As I contemplated driving around the barricade I met a cool dude named Peter James who is in an Asheville band The HoneyCutters (thanks for the trail mix Peter).   We had a good conversation about the curse of too much self-awareness and how it doesn’t seem to afflict the southerners – who have all been pretty earnest.    Irony does seem to peter out somewhere along the southern half of the Appalachians. I didn’t regretfully go around the barrier blocking the slided road…

Asheville Deco Downtown

The homeless man that sat down to bum a cigarette from me outside the City Bakery Cafe confided in me that he was a shoplifter, but he didn’t like to be bad, that he’d been in Asheville for 41 years (he was 41).  He saw things in shops, shiny things, and he just wanted them, wild-eyed and craven.  His take on Asheville was that it was a good town, and that there were a lot of police but that they didn’t mean bad.

Blue Ridges

After the GPS froze for a while I asked several people (within 1 hour of Athens, GA) if I was going in the right direction. The usual response was a ponderous You want go to Athens. Georgia??? I amused myself by wondering where else they might think I wanted to go, Greece?   So I looked it up and the Athens in Georgia is the only significant Athens in the USA and 8 hours from the nearest other Athens (in Virginia).
Maybe their response was just meaning, surely you don’t want to go all the way to Athens, Georgia? I can’t say much other than it’s a small town.

Asheville, Building.	Asheville, NC Mexican Tienda	Asheville, Building.	Only the finest!
Asheville City Building	Asheville Courthouse	Ashville Deco	Blue Ridge Parkway
Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway – Looking Glass Waterfall	Blue Ridge Parkway – Looking Glass Waterfall
Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Bald Rock
Blue Ridge Parkway	Devil's Courthouse	View From Devil's Courthouse	View From Devil's Courthouse
Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway
Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway
Blue Ridge Parkway	Blue Ridge Parkway

Asheville, NC to Athens GA