Little by little, hour by hour, the others would trickle into the kitchen. Food would be prepared and consumed. Conversations came from each sitting area. I did quite a bit of writing those first few days on my second book. I liked sitting outside in the fresh, cold air so vastly different from Florida, and my fingers flew across the keys.
In the afternoon, after food, we got into our bathing suits and headed to the river. The river, the way I understood it, sat in the low in the valley below us and was very hard to get to except in certain areas. One of those areas was on Marilyn's friend Bryan's property, and he graciously allowed us to trespass to enjoy what was referred to as Bryan's Beach.
I had been given an overview of Bryan's Beach in the original discussion of Hyampom but, as with the rest of it, until I experienced it...
First, was that Marilyn's truck was the only vehicle that could make the drive. Not to the area, but down to the river. Anya and Ewan had apprised us, prefacing it with "What happens in the back of the truck, stays in the back of the truck." This only served to make sure that at some point, I rode in the back of the truck.
Joe was the truck driver, Marilyn rode shotgun, and the kids went in the back. The rest of us followed behind to the river area in the Yukon XL. That was then parked on the side of the dirt road, and while Joe drove the truck down, down, down, the rest of us hiked, what felt like a mile and was only the halfway mark, down to Bryan's house.
The first day this wasn't adequately explained to me, and so I wore my flip flops. Down, down, down, this rocky, steep road in the middle of the woods. This was the only picture I took on these excursions, which is a shame because photos would've explained this route better than I can.
I was always behind everyone on any walk, and Maya always felt the need to walk with me, which made me feel old and decrepit. That isn't to say I didn't appreciate Maya's kindness, but it just meant I was next in line behind my Aunt Marilyn. Ah, the aging line. I never expected to creep up to the front so fast.
Once we hit Bryan's house, nestled into the woods, we stood and waited for Joe to finish dropping off the first load before returning for us. I'm told that the first load always stopped at Bryan's, where Marilyn would then get out and trudge to the house to offer a basket of goodies, usually food, in payment for his allowing us to enjoy his beach. This brought to mind appeasing the wolf or some such Aesop fable character, and I had plans to accompany Marilyn one day on that leg of the adventure, but alas, that didn't happen.
Joe would arrive, turn the truck around in Bryan's vast yard, and we'd climb in, me, of course, taking the shotgun position. Then down, we would go even deeper into the valley with those in the back of the truck ducking tree limbs to avoid a smack in the face. It was a crazy drive. The first time I worried more about getting back up the mountain more than I did getting down it. Each time I made the ride, I pictured how in the world these residents had ever found this place, and then I'd wonder what it must be like to own land where one didn't have to mow or really provide much upkeep.
Eventually, the road came to an end, and by that, I mean, it couldn't go any further down the mountain. From this point, the truck was parked, and we hiked again. Only this time, it was down a hill of rocks. And boulders. Why, oh why, no one thought to photograph this trail...oh, because we needed our focus on going down.
No rock was safe for stepping, although I'm told that my Auntie Marilyn shimmied down it quite well, pointing out pebbles that were unsafe and those that were good for foot placement. The first time I think it took me hours to get down those rocks with me picturing my demise a hundred times over. I just kept reminding myself that I had survived the wilds of North Carolina walking on stones, and eventually, this trail became no big deal.
At the bottom, through several trees and sand, was the river. It was a self-made beach, and there were chairs. And no alligators. We Floridians were in heaven. It's the first time I think I've seen Madison in a body of water in about seven years.
The water was cold. I'm usually not affected by cold water, but this water was like submerging myself in a vat of ice. It took me forever to get completely wet, and once I was, I didn't want to get out because I didn't want to have to start the process all over again later. By the time I did exit, my entire body was numb. It was wonderful.
To our right, around the bend, was an area with rapids where everyone went for a riding adventure. To the right of our beach, was the area that received zero sunshine and was suitable for submerging wounds and aching muscles since it was the coldest spot. Directly in front of us was the deepest area and a rock for jumping. To the left was the shallowest part of the river where we skipped stones, and if you went around the corner, there was a warmer area for hanging out and pretending you were at the spa.
Or so I'm told. I didn't venture that way.
The sand was from the river and hot as hell. A direct contrast to the water. The first two steps from the shaded chair area were no big deal, but that third step, and subsequently every footfall after, scorched the bottoms of your feet until you hit the freezing water. If you attempted to walk along the edge by the area that received no sunshine, then you risked being pulled into the depths of the wet sand, which sucked your ankles like quicksand. I kept thinking the best way would be to wear my flip flops to the water's edge, but after that first day, I never wore them again, opting instead for my sneakers to make the treacherous walk down, down, down the crazy trail.
Around four o'clock each day, we'd head back up the mountain. This was done again in two trips. The climb over the rocks up was way more accessible than the descent, but I huffed and puffed the entire climb. From there, we loaded back in the truck and headed up, bypassing Bryan's home to a trail for the ride back via truck. The first group left in the Yukon XL. The entire trip probably took at least a half an hour, maybe longer.
Back at the house from the river, everyone then jockeyed for cleanliness. With two showers and a restriction of water, this was tricky. Some days the kids just let the adults go first and headed down to swim and play in the pond. Other times they were quicker at getting to the showers than the adults. Marilyn also had an outdoor tub, and a few of us did partake in a bath. In between getting rinsed were cocktail making, appetizer servings, dinner preparations, and card games.
Evenings included games, hide n' seek, lots of cocktails and food, and conversation. People dropped in, usually carrying bottles of wine that were consumed, and they jumped into the fray, grabbing plates and falling into whatever topic was up for discussion. Marilyn's porch was a great place to hang out in the evening with the cool breezes and view of the mountains. About ten o'clock, people would begin heading home or off to bed, and usually by 10:30 or before, I would be left alone in the living room or with the occasional teen straggler who wasn't ready to head down to tent city quite yet.
I usually ended the night with some writing or some reading. I slept well despite the ins and outs of kids coming up from their campsite or adults coming in from the garage to use the bathroom. I didn't always hear them, but at night Hyampom is dark.
Pitch black.
We relied on our phone flashlights to roam inside the house for the bathroom or to ascend from tent city. Although, the stars were amazing at night. Not enough to light the way, but the best star gazing view I've ever, ever seen. Unfortunately, I didn't discover that until the night before we left.
With darkness and early sunrise, I could see why there aren't many late owls in Hyampom although we did have a couple of nights that lasted almost to eleven. Quiet came quickly once everyone headed off to their respective sleep areas, and then before I knew it, the sun was shining, and Darcy and Jay were moving about my area, readying themselves to do it all over again.
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