Kitty Williams: Adventurer Explorer

It was the perfect afternoon for a sail so I raced at breakneck speed to Kerr Lake. At Steele Creek Marina I boarded The Skidoo — my friend Thomas’ Catalina Capri 22. He untied her,  pushed us off the dock and hoisted the sails. I always have trepidation when using sail power to leave the marina. There is a moment when all the sail area creates strong drift but not enough water is traveling over the rudder to have helm. Mucho action and no control! Woo this is all part of the fun! It is important to know that sailing happens in slow motion. Somewhere between a sail’s pace and a tree’s. Its plenty of time to get worked up two or three times over what turns out to be nothing. When I’m ready to rip off the motor cover and start her up, the helm kicks in and I get control of the boat and can relax. And that is what sailing is: 50% relaxation, 31% exhilaration, 12% sheer boredom,  7% terror!

We cleared the end of the dock after several tacks — changes in direction because we were heading into the wind. Outside the marina the wind dropped out for about three minutes. This gave the crew just long enough to get on each other’s nerves. Ripples shot across the surface of the water and then a lovely breeze filled our sails and we were off. The wind was low and steady. The weather was perfect. The boat heeled slightly but not enough to be strenuous. We sailed 6.66 miles in about 2 hours 15 minutes then I needed to head back to Cary for cello lessons.

Getting back to the dock the wind was shifty and unpredictable. There is nothing better then saying “we don’t need no stinking motor” and docking under sail, but this afternoon was not the day. I cranked the motor and Thomas gave me a conciliatory “its good to run the motor every so often.” Docking was a little tricky with a gusty tail wind. Approaching the dock I threw it into neutral long before I normally would and we had plenty of momentum to make it to the dock. All in all a beautiful sail.

The neighborhood play group traveled to the NC Zoo.

Two toddlers, three little kids and three mommies.

Lions, no tigers, and bears! Oh my.

Everybody was beautifully behaved, even the mommies. 

My mom has Fridays off, so after lunch we headed to Clarksville, Virginia to visit Prestwould Plantation. In 1793 the Roanoke River’s banks became home for this lovely house. Two giant doors sit directly across from each other on the first floor. The door that faces the Roanoke was the social door, and the door that faces the driveway was for business. I can only imagine the cross breezes that would flow through this generous house, because it closed up tighter than a tic. The tour is wonderful because much of the furnishings are original and the wallpaper is restored. They still have all the receipts for the hardware for the house. It had to be sent from England. Many of the materials (all of the lumber) came from the site. The beams span the entire length of the house. The floor boards span the entire room without a break. The forest must have been HUGE! An old Oak stands between the house and the River and it might be 216 years old. But it might not.

The second wife of Sir Peyton Skipwith was a Scot. Unlike English or American women, Scottish women had been granted the right to own property, the ability to inherit, and the right to an education. Lady Jean Skipwith ran the plantation after her husband died in 1805. Her library was one of the largest assembled by a woman in America. The house is restored back to Lady Jean’s era of influence. It’s fabled she had a telescope in her room to watch operations on the dock. She was very private. No likenesses of her survive, but a painting of her daughter reveals handsome large eyebrows.

I love the grounds of this plantation. When arriving at Prestwould the stone walls are the first element to greet you. Driving down the road I thought, “who would build this great wall around a stand of forest?” and then I realized the wall was older than the woods and my pulse quickened. The walls run down the drive and up to the house enclosing grounds that stand in strange space — maintained but really unoccupied. So the wildlife around was quite surprised when I popped up in the gardens. The tour guide said we had been the only tour all day. I started wild turkeys who cleared the low stone walls gracefully but were quite distressed. A black snake reared half a foot off the ground to get a good look at me. All I could think was “COBRA” because Cobras do that in movies. My second thought was “Hoodless Ninja Cobra” before I downgraded to “Three Foot Black Snake!!!” My mom did the adrenaline dance in my peripheral vision, so no picture because I was too busy laughing. The original landscape plans are intact and are in a free brochure! Landscape Plans are FREE. I got into the wrong line of work. 

A stroll sounded in order, so I hopped over to Durham. The Nasher is a great art cache for the triangle. Its a beautiful space. “Picasso and the Allure of Language” is starting in August.  I’m definitely seeing that.  On a ‘Family Day’ the Nasher is a madhouse but today I had the collection to myself. Escultura Socail: A New Generation of Art from Mexico City was not what I had in mind but stretched my head and ideas of art like a yoga workout.  I like being skeptical right before lunch.

After consulting a map, the best route appeared to cut across Duke Gardens. Ellen Shipman designed the gardens after a flood wiped out the original started in the 1930’s. The gardens unfold around a stream that connects several ponds. My beeline sauntered through the Terrace Gardens a sensational show of flowers.  Jack-in-the-pulpit abounded in many shady spots.

Duke Chapel is a wonderfully large church and the key organizational element to Duke’s campus layout –the crowning jewel. The woman giving out maps informed me that I was right on time for organ practice. I got inside, turned to take a picture of the organ and  the first notes rang out. This organ is 10-15 years old and came from Germany. The soaring ceilings and stained glass were eclipsed by the thundering music. When I entered it had been hushed. Later I realized I was almost yelling. It was liberating to be in a church and not use an Inside Voice.

On the walk back to the car, I meandered through the Asiatic Arboretum section of Duke Gardens. It centers around a large pond that is habitat to many ducks. One had two dozen ducklings. They were so tame I could stand right over them.  A storm moved in and I got caught in a bit of a shower but it was beautiful.

A short drive from Cary through Fuquay Varina, Raven’s Rock is a complete treat! The temperature was beautiful and gusty winds occasionally thrashed around the tree tops. Lizards scattered in the crunchy leaves as I walked by.  At first the trails seemed like nothing special but only a quarter of a mile into the woods the Forest transitioned to a giant stand of blooming Mountain Laural. It was unbelievable to walk under a canopy of white flowers.

After too short a walk a wooden stairwell spilled down the 150 foot bluffs to the Cape Fear River. Uncommon angles made every landing a unique experience but they all felt like tree houses. Near the bottom a sudden rustling noise rose directly  beneath my landing. A wild turkey strutted out onto the trail below. She made several low clucks. There was a long pause and then she clucked many times. Eight little chicks started moving. They appeared out of nowhere and one by one crossed the trail into the woods on the river’s banks. She followed, stopped, looked back and clucked. A straggler chic materialized from the forest floor and joined the flock.

The Cape Fear River is a nice big fat juicy river at Raven’s Rock. The power of the river carved out a mile of the bank leaving a beautiful rock cliff. Undercutting of the bank created massive, cantilevered cliffs overhead. It is truly a sublime landscape. Rhododendrons sprout off the lip of the cliff, high above, and shower down purple blooms with chartreuse speckled throats. Even the trees are dwarfed by the scale of the rocks. Little toads are everywhere.

Walking up to the Overlook above the bluffs I came face to face with hosta’s most fierce predator: a white tail deer. We stared each other down until another hiker broke it’s gaze and it escaped.  Deer are like cats in that you can trap them with an unwavering look.  The Overlook allows for a  larger glimpse of this amazing river system. A Blue Heron sailed high above the river slowly gliding downstream. It was amazing to be above such a graceful flight.