Timing is Everything

By now this picture is showing it’s age. It was a spur of the moment inspiration taken one July afternoon while on a hike up Whiteside Mountain in the Highlands / Cashiers area in NC. My nephew Christopher (shown in the foreground) will get his license this year. My niece Libby isn’t too terribly behind. There are a few people notably missing from the shot. As the photographer I have a great excuse as I most definitely behind the lens. I have no idea where my father was (probably further along the trail for whatever reason). Also missing is my cousin Christy’s husband Dan who presumably was at home in Wisconsin at the time. Also sadly notable among the missing (because they are the original Whiteside Mountain jumping picture takers) are my cousin Rick and his wife Leah who presumably were at home in Seattle and missed the event entirely

I have to confess I’m very proud (perhaps overly so) of this picture. Not only does the shot put on display a great partial cross section of my family (sorry for those of you not present… you’re awesome too), but the picture itself was a feat trying to get the flash and the focus and the timing right for everyone (or almost everyone… ahem… Christopher.) Perhaps I wouldn’t have remembered all the times these folks jumped for this picture, but sadly the evidence remains on my hard drive where the lighting failed or the focus wasn’t right or the jumps weren’t well coordinated. Sorry folks… that’s what you get for indulging an amateur photographer with an overly complex shot.

Anyway this is another one of those places where stories have converged for my family. The roots for this shot presumably lie with a slew of Picklesimer ancestors buried in various places not to many miles from where this shot was taken. My father’s father (whom I unfortunately never knew) grew up in the cove in the background later bringing his 4 sons down from New Jersey to spend summer vacations in the mountains he must have loved. Shortly after my parents married (my mother is pictured in the red stripes) the farmhouse there burned and the surrounding forest quickly claimed the site leaving it unrecognizable from the historic photos I’ve seen displaying a wide grassy yard surrounding the house with expansive porches. About the time the farm burned, my mother’s sister Martha (in the purple) married Fred (knee support) and moved to Highlands where Fred would for ages remain the towns sole dentist. Years later, Chris (light blue) and my sister Leslie (blue and black stripes) got engaged on this mountain. Likewise, the aforementioned (but not pictured) Rick and Leah were engaged not far away in Highlands.

It’s interesting to consider what we could have missed. I grew up a good 6 hrs from the area… Riding with my parents it was probably more like 8 hours. While it is true my father did have a connection with the area, it’s questionable how much of a connection I would have had with the place had the Rodenbecks not moved to Highlands. It was undoubtedly on one of our trips to visit the Rodenbecks when I first recall trekking into the woods adventuring among the ruins of the old family home site. I was the age Christopher is now when we began building our modest cabin. I distinctly remember having only a learner’s permit driving my dad’s diesel Suburban loaded with cinder blocks that became part of the foundation for our little getaway in the woods. Over the years we’ve invited (abducted) countless unsuspecting friends (victims) to our to our little mountain paradise where they were subjected to slave labor, no wages, questionable food (but pretty much anything is gourmet when you’re hungry enough) and no bathroom. Begun approximately 26 years ago the place has gradually accumulated a very few modest creature comforts (such as insulation in one room and an indoor shower… even if you do have to retrieve your own water from the nearby creek in order to use it.) I’m not sure if my father was actually intending to mimic the way our hillbilly ancestors must have painstakingly pieced their homes together over time, but I imagine there must be some resemblance between their efforts and ours.

All kidding aside, the place is amazingly special to me for all kinds of reasons from the vertical cliff immediately behind us (highest perpendicular bare rock face east of the Rocky Mountains), the unique ecosystem (a literal rainforest), as well as the familial and experiential connections I’ve made with the place. If you haven’t been there, I highly recommend going. If you’re interested in an extended stay and you’re on a budget, my family will be happy host you at our deluxe accommodations the next time we’re in the neighborhood. Just be sure to bring a hammer when you come. 😉

Moon Over Duck Pier

Everyone has a story about great and unexpected connections made over the course of their lives. Duck, NC is just such a point of convergence for my wife Ashley and I. Little did I know when we met that Ashley’s family had been making the short drive south from Virginia Beach and visiting Duck since she was a child. When few homes existed there, her parents courageously bought a lot on an empty sand dune with plans to build a rental cottage for family vacations.

Although my trips to Duck began later in life (during my teenage years) and originated from further south, they were no less memorable. My first visit to Duck, NC came about when a friend invited me to his family’s Thanksgiving vacation for food, family, fun, and most importantly surfing (not to leave out the shenanigans we managed to involve ourselves in). The Outer Banks is for me a magical place and never more so than winter when crowds abate leaving one who has not visited in busier seasons with the impression that it’s as remote as it is beautiful.

When we met, the renovation of Ashley’s quaint family rental cottage was nearing completion and I became a beneficiary of the efforts put into it. In addition to being newly renovated and far nicer accommodations than I ever would have hoped, it also allowed short walks down to the shore just before sunrise for unexpected photo jewels.

Here’s such jewel I was fortunate enough to grab as reward for crawling from bed before sunrise. The hope of such fortune is definitely what inspires me to arise so early on mornings when one would rather not. This particular morning it was definitely worth it.