We’re having so much fun, no one wants to come home and we’re not even close to home yet! The only reason I’m blogging is because I’m waiting for my laundry to dry. Early tomorrow morning we head out for my in-laws, but today we went to Stone Mountain.
Stone Mountain is a ginormous rock. In order to get to the top, you must ride in a gondola or hike three miles. I know many of you are saying, “Pft. Three miles ain’t nothing!”
To you I want to say one word, compound as it may be – “Hearty-Tack.”
This is one bad-boy mountain!
It was such a nice day, I may have considered the hike of death, but I didn’t exactly wear the right shoes.
Sometimes practical and tacky battle it out in my closet. Tacky usually wins.
Here’s proof that opposites do attract. FringeMan can be mistaken for foliage and I can hunt moose in Maine without getting shot at. Need I say more?
So, this mountain is like five hundred miles (or so) straight up in the air and we just happened to pick the windiest day in mortal history to travel in a box in the air suspended by cables.
This is the look of fear.
When we stepped into the swinging gondola, I asked the nice young man
driving flying the contraption…(he’s young because I’m like a hundred since my last birthday)…how long he’s been bringing people up and down the mountain. I think he smelled my fear, because without a second’s lapse he said, “Two days.”
I looked to my aunt and said, “At least I’m going to die wearing cute shoes.” She looked down at her unpainted toes and flip-flops and shook her head in agreement.
Being on top of Stone Mountain is like being on top of the moon, only windier. I know it’s windier because Neil Armstrong was never thrown from the surface of the moon to orbit in outer-space for all eternity.
When the nice child/flyer/driver dropped us off on top of the mountain, he told us we may have to walk back down because of treacherously high winds. I wished he had mentioned that before we found ourselves stranded five million miles in the air. I looked down at my cute shoes and asked FringeMan if he wanted to spend the night on the mountain with me.
I’m really kind of proud of us. We looked our fear of heights in the eyes and then prayed a lot.
I almost kissed the ground when we got back down the mountain, via air travel I might add. It was a shaky descent. We also hit the side of our gondola landing pad when the thing finally stopped. I looked at the young flyer and said, “Don’t feel bad. I park like that too.”
Sadly, it’s true.
If you’re ever in Georgia, you must visit Stone Mountain. Just go in the summer when all the attractions are open, and wear your hiking shoes. Gondola or not, you’ll need them.
But, nothing beats the feeling of being on top of the world looking down on creation.
I totally need a bumper sticker that says “I climbed Stone Mountain.”