Helen Keller: "Life is either a great adventure or nothing."
Everyone makes a big deal as your growing up, you turn 13 your finally a teenager, 16, you can drive, 18 you can vote, 21 you can drink but after that it gets less and less of a big deal until you get too old to give a crap. Most people consider 40 your next big (important) birthday, then 50 isn't that big of a deal but 60's pretty big and so on. Well, I for one think that every birthday should be important but if you're on a budget, you can't make every birthday a huge celebration so, I opted for every birthday ending in a 0 or a 5 would be a big deal, no matter what.
This was a 5 year for Damon so it had to be awesome. We had other plans for the weekend before his birthday but they were cancelled at the last minute. So, instead of having another week and a half to plan Damon's birthday, I had a couple days!
So my stress level went up a bit but I managed to finish making all my plans in the nick of time.
We started Friday with Damon's favorite pizza, Papa Johns (a rare treat for us because we live in the boonies and nobody delivers lol). And while we ate our oh so awesome Papa John's pizza and had a few beers, we watched some of Damon's favorite mobster movies!!
Saturday for lunch we hit up Damon's favorite place to get a cheeseburger at the first freaking location in Fayetteville (or in Arkansas period to my knowledge!), Whataburger!
After our tummies were full of WhaWhaBurgers (as we like to call it), we spent the afternoon visiting 4 micro-breweries that we haven't been to yet.
Sunday, we packed our bags for, what I thought was a short drive to an overnight trip......Little did I know!!
So, when I was looking for a nice cabin to stay in, I wanted to find someplace we haven't been and someplace that wasn't several hours a way (because Damon doesn't like long drives). I was searching and searching the internet and finally found White Rock Mountain. I recall seeing a sign for this in Winslow so it had to be close.....Right?
After making us a yummy lunch sandwich at home (with Salami, honey ham, provolone cheese, sweet peppers, banana peppers on garlic and herb bread with Dorito's Nacho cheese chips on the side), we packed up the car and got on the road.
We'd been driving about 45 minutes, I had no real address, the lady that runs the cabins just gave me directions. You know, those Arkansas directions that tell you to turn left when you see a cow on the right. Needless to say, I was pretty flippin' nervous the whole way because I was never sure if I had gotten us lost and was concerned that we weren't closer because I thought this "White Rock" was close to Winslow.
An hour quickly became two but the good thing was that we were still on paved road and I was fairly confident that my east versus west detector was working, mostly because I asked Damon to confirm which way was which, but whatever.
We finally reach my first turn into uncharted territory and I get a little more nervous, 12 more miles to the next turn. About 6 miles in, the road turns to dirt. Not only dirt but very narrow, tons of pot holes, and some of the scariest drop offs on each side of the road that you've ever seen in your life. I'm getting scared, Damon has no idea where we're going so he's sure I'm lost and that we might run into some folks playing the banjo any minute.
Finally, we see a car, coming down the mountain, our first sign of life in awhile. Only problem, the road is so narrow I think we're going to fall down the mountain if I get over any more. We barely squeak by each other and I proceed up and down, round and round the mountain top. We pass another couple of cars and after that I am fairly certain I have forgotten to breathe, I'm sure I've been holding my breath for the last four miles, at least. The road just seems to get worse and worse as we climb higher and higher, blind corners, no shoulder, hell no nothing beside you except for a certain death fall back to the bottom of the mountain.
As we approach our final turn, I drive up the mountain and see that the next piece of road appears to go straight up into the sky. A VERY narrow road with drop offs on both sides that you have to cross to get to the damn cabin. I put the car in park and tell Damon, "That's it, I'm done, I can't do it"! I'm perfectly serious here, I told him I couldn't drive anymore. I have been holding my breath for the last 6 miles or so afterall. Even Damon didn't like the looks of this last bit but he could tell by looking at me that I might close my eyes out of fright and drive us right off the edge so he took over.
Surprisingly, once you got going on it, it wasn't so bad and we finally made it to the top. I finally felt like I could breathe, although I also wanted to cry. I went and checked us in and told the lady that the road was really rough and she asked which way I came, I told her and she looked at me so very seriously and said, "Well that's the best we have, you should be glad you took that way". I don't know if I wanted to smack her across her face or fall down and cry.
This may sound absurd to you but I have recently discovered that I do not like driving on high mountains, bridges, anything high in which I could fall off or down and die. But I digress. We made it safe and sound, except for the fact that I think I am still having heart palpitations.
We go inside and the place is great, very rustic, stone and wood cabin, the fire still lit for us, it was perfect! And the view from the back porch was incredible! We could see forever! The pictures below really don't do it justice!
The cabin was great, the weather was perfect, maybe a little cool in the evening but we kept the fire place roaring and it kept us nice and toasty. We spent the afternoon sitting on the back porch, enjoying the amazing view, then I cooked dinner; A very nice filet mignon steak along with Flemming's potatoes and red wine by candlelight, while listening to Dean Martin, who could ask for more???
We stopped off in Alma on the way home the next day and had some burgers at a little hole in the wall, J & J Restaurant and it wasn't really anything to write home about but we always like to try something new and these little family owned restaurants in small towns usually have some pretty bad ass country style food.
After that we headed home to Winslow, continued our mobster movie marathon (watched the Walking Dead of course), and I made Damon some pretty awesome crispy chicken and crispy fish tacos for dinner.
Happy Birthday to my one and only!
