MONTREAT

Kept flipping on the TV, expecting to see Howdy Doody or Ike.

Or maybe FDR.

We recently spent a few days with our daughter’s family in Montreat, NC, which was like spending a few days in the 1950s – or 1940s.

It’s a small town next to Black Mountain, with Asheville about 15 minutes down the road -for those looking for excitement – and the town’s motto is “A place set apart”.

That it is.

You might recognize it as Billy Graham’s home, there’s a large Presbyterian retreat center in town.  

But for our three grandsons, it’s CousinFest!

Our son-in-law is one of 4 children, who grew up spending summers in Montreat, and his extended family is now doing the same – with 11 cousins in the summer mix.

July 4^th week their full family event, with the ‘big house’ – which his parents own – as the centerpiece of the stay. They also own a 2^nd smaller home, and a third house was rented to cover the overflow.

And fortunately for My Captor and I, we were invited to join this past week, sharing the third house.

And. Definitely. Relaxed.

But for the kids, as in our son-in-law’s summers, the main attraction is clubs – took me 3 days to quit calling them camps – which are age-appropriate gatherings full of outside activities: swimming, ball games, creek wandering… 

You get the picture.

Sponsored and run by the Montreat Conference Center, which does an excellent job. 

Clubs from 8:30A to noon, with a 2-hour break for lunch, then 2-4:30.

With fun semi-planned activities and cousins everywhere, a heavenly summer.

And the win for parents lots of free time to do … whatever.

During our stay, that included a morning stroll down the serious hill to drop the 3 boys/11 cousins at their camps – sorry, clubs -followed by a walk to the Gate, a landmark which establishes the town limits.

Apparently – this was relayed to me as truth, and even if not true should be – the gate was manned by GateBoys back in the day, who checked people into town, provided directions, and told visitors they couldn’t hit a 9 iron. Which saved them having to hire a caddy if they chose to play golf. 

But there are groups walking everywhere in town, and tons of campgrounds: Monkey Bottoms a particular favorite, a perfect site for family dinners – easy clean up – crawdad hunting in the creek, even a birthday party!

The ‘third house’ was ultra-comfortable, with a great porch offering rocking chairs and a bitchin’ swing.

Which gave plenty of time to hear about childhood activities like:

What can you get for a penny? Whatever was received traded for another item, and so on until … I’m not so sure.

Wells Fargo.  Items hidden around the town, that kids would find until … I’m not so sure.

Crawdads in the Creek. Where kids found crawdads in the creek until…

Notably each game didn’t involve determining a grand winner – played just for fun – and each still played today.

Though perhaps the best part: The weather. A low of 60 one AM reminding of winter – or maybe Autumn – in St. Simons.

But there was one unfortunate moment(s): A BEAR!

Lurking around the cousin compound, looking for food – apparently had found a garbage locker that provided that reward.

It was a ‘teenage’ bear – had to be: tiktoking, sideways hat (Kids today! Shakes fist angrily!) – but after hearing the bear alarms, it ambled off.

And life was once again good.

And CousinFest resumed!

For 238 more posts like this –each with a wish for a hint on who that bear was– go to beersatthenifty.com. Your phone will display every post, and you can waste an hour or two.

Or send me an email to the site, and I’ll add you to my Sunday distribution.

And I’m now on Substack at justluckytobehere.substack.com. Same stuff, but a different location.

ENHANCE YOUR ENJOYMENT OF THIS POST, PAIR IT WITH THE FOLLOWING ‘AGING HIPSTER MUSIC’:

In addition to guiding us through Montreat, our son-in-law introduced me to The Wilder Blue, a Texas hill country group, started and fronted by Zane Williams. I’ve added ‘Still in the runnin’ ‘I’m your man’ ‘Roll Betty Roll’, and ‘Excuse Me’ to the BATN playlist