A Year Without Montreat

Do you have that special place you like to travel to each year?  I know some of you do.  But even those of you who like to travel to and explore new places, I suspect you also have that special place.  No matter how many trips you might take in a given year, going to that familiar location can give you a solid grounding.  I’ve written numerous times before that for my three siblings and me, that special place is Montreat, NC.

(photo credit: my brother)

Growing up, this is where our family vacationed every summer while our dad, a Presbyterian minister, attended the week’s conference.  No matter what city or state we lived in during our dad’s 40 years of active ministry, Montreat was the common thread running through all of our residences.  So, for us four siblings, Montreat is a special place going back to our early childhood years because in a way, for us it was (and still is) like going home.

For the past three years (2020, 2021, and 2022), I have gotten spoiled getting to travel to Montreat this third week of October, first with just my brother (the year the pandemic began), and then with all three of my siblings.

But this year, we will miss going.

In 2021, inspired by a fellow blogger whom I routinely follow that wrote about 20 things to do at her favorite place, I wrote of my top 20 Things to do in Montreat.  As I look back over that list, I think there are several things I know I will miss the most this year.  And surprisingly, the first few are not even on the list.

For the 60+ years that I have been going to Montreat, they all start by passing through this gate, the only entrance to the town.  I don’t know if we did this growing up but as an adult, it has become routine.  After a long and sometimes hot drive from Memphis, I roll down all the car windows right after passing through this gate.

Our first sense is we immediately hear the pleasing burbling of the cold mountain stream running through the town.  In our youth, we would rock hop through this stream trying not to slip and plunge into the ice-cold waters.  As an adult, it serves as a symphony of relaxing auditory delight.

As I first detect these wonderful sounds, it often feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off my shoulders.  No matter what troubles I might have had or thought about on the trip here, this soothing sound would vanquish them.  Even today, when I am not there, I can look up from my desk and get a sense of this peacefulness by viewing an image of this loving gate that my sister digitally painted for me using one of the best photos I ever took of the gate (in fact while sitting at my desk thinking about what my next post should be about, I looked up from my desk to see this familiar sight which then inspired me to write what you are reading now).

Depending on the time of year we travel, our noses might next catch the sweet fragrant scent from blooming rhododendrons.

And combined with the visual sight of the stream running along the road, three of our five senses would achieve a pleasant trifecta leaving one with the greatest sense of peace.

Depending on where we might be staying, our next view might be of Lake Susan, overlooked by the Assembly Inn, the historic hotel in town.  This is where in our early years, we would have fished along the banks of the lake, floated on it in a rented paddle boat, or swam in its icy cold waters.  Today, we typically don’t do any of those things but rather prefer to sit on the deck of the Inn, take in the view, and occasionally reminisce about those fun early activities.

One of the activities we often did during our stay was to hike up Look Out Mountain to get a birds-eye-view of Montreat.

I was pleased to discover in 2020 when my brother and I were there, that even as a senior citizen, I could still make the ascent…

… a feat I repeated two years later when my brother’s wife joined us for a few days there.

But of all the things I know and love about Montreat, the one I know I will miss the most this year is sitting on the deck of the bookstore, overlooking the waterfall, and gently rocking in one of their rockers while reading.

The sound of the water rushing over the spillway, the birds chirping in the trees, and an occasional breeze swaying the leaves of the trees makes for the most familiar and relaxing sensation I have ever felt.  I realize writing this, that the next time I am there (and there will be another time), I simply need to record about 30 minutes of these sounds that I can then replay at home whenever I feel the need to relax.  What a wonderful sound it will be.

But for this year, I will just have to be satisfied with the memories of all these things.  By looking up at the gift my sister gave me hanging above my desk, I can imagine in my mind’s eyes myself passing through that gate.  And if I close my eyes and block out all other sensations, I can almost hear the wonderful sound of that stream welcoming me home once again!