Author: Easin' Along

Easin’ Along readers know that Helen is undergoing chemotherapy treatment after surgery for early-stage breast cancer.  She has received five weekly treatments and has seven more scheduled.  All have gone well, with little to no impact on our lives except for a reduced travel schedule in our RV.

Unlike in the past, when we have left Knoxville for weeks or months at a time, we plan to take shorter trips of three or four days between the weekly treatments until Helen completes the chemotherapy regimen. Her second round of targeted treatments will be administered every three weeks, allowing us more freedom. Additionally, Helen can receive those treatments in any facility in the country with her doctor’s approval, opening many more opportunities for us.

Last month we made our way to our favorite campground in North Carolina for a few days.  We had a wonderful time and felt comfortable with travel to take on a more distant visit to our son, Collin, and his family in Charleston, SC.   Join us as we set up shop in Camp Charleston.

Collin and his wife, Austin, have a home on a lovely property with a view of Charleston Bay and the architecturally unique Ravenel Bridge. About a year ago, Collin had some electrical work completed on his home and asked if we wanted to share the cost of installing a 50 amp outlet outside his garage door, allowing us to park Dora (fifth-wheel) in his driveway.  We immediately responded in the affirmative. Now, we take the mother-in-law’s suite with us when we visit our precious grandchildren.  It works out great, and Collin and Austin are fabulous hosts.

This past Saturday, we loaded up Dora in the space next to our home and then took off on the eight-hour trip to Charleston.  We can usually make the drive in under seven hours, but this being a holiday weekend as well as Father’s Day, traffic was HEAVY, and we encountered many roadblocks and stalls. Eventually, we arrived, and the hugs from Bennett and Cason, our granddaughters, plus a dip in the camp swimming pool helped us overcome the frustrating travel experience. By the time hamburgers came off the grill, I wasn’t mad at anybody.

Camp Charleston comes complete with a boat, and we made plans for a river excursion on Sunday.  Collin towed the boat to the Riverland Terrace Landing on the Wappoo Cut. We spent the next several hours cruising the Stono River, passing both James and John’s Island to the mouth of the Atlantic Ocean between Folly Beach and Kiawah Island. The sky was clear and blue, and the day was hot. The spray from the wake created by the boat was very refreshing.  

Our oldest granddaughter, Bennett, left early the following day for basketball camp, and Collin attended to work.  Helen, Austin, Cason, and I spent the afternoon in the pool eagerly anticipating the evening meal—grilled pizzas prepared on Collin’s Big Green Egg and a pizza stone. Camp Charleston was getting better by the day.

I had often wanted to try making pizza on the grill but never got around to it. Collin found a place to purchase uncooked pizza dough and assembled enough ingredients for various pies.  He worked for a pizza restaurant in college and mastered the art of throwing a spinning glob of dough in the air until it reached the perfect thickness for grilling, proving you can learn a lot in college. I have shown a few varieties below.  Helen’s favorite was a crust heated momentarily, then brushed with olive oil.  Caramelized onions and blue cheese completed the toppings before returning the pizza to the grill.  It was divine. Food at summer camp has come a long way since the days of powdered eggs and greasy corn beef hash.

No summer camp is complete without a day trip, and Austin had one planned for us that was both educational and fun. Austin, an attorney, is the general counsel for the Charleston Airport and arranged to give us a tour of the offices and some of the runway viewpoints. She had recently moved into a new office with a killer view, and Cason had not had the opportunity to visit before now.  The three of us had a grand time learning about the inner workings of a facility growing rapidly as Charleston undergoes a population explosion. Cason was delighted to see her Mom’s new digs. As an added treat, we visited with Austin’s friend and co-worker, Caroline, director of public relations for the Airport. Caroline was clearing her office of promotional items, so we timed our visit perfectly to walk away with a slew of t-shirts, travel mugs, towels, and the like.  Thank you, Caroline, and thank you Austin for the outing!

For our final night at Camp Charleston, we drove to the James Island Yacht Club to view the sunset.  I’ll let the pictures (and the selfie) speak for the evening. 

Camp Charleston…good for the young, and great for the young at heart.

We’re Easin’ Along.

It was a quiet week in Knoxville. We enjoyed a few much-needed rain showers, and, as a result, my tomatoes are thriving. I found a new exercise class that meets early in the day in an outdoor pavilion at a local park.  We have an excellent workout before the temperatures begin to soar. Our Tennessee Volunteers baseball team was prepping for a weekend series with Notre Dame for the right to go to the College World Series. Helen had her third chemotherapy treatment and, so far, has not suffered significant side effects. We’re confident that your prayers have helped greatly with that.

Things were so quiet that we decided to load up Dora and head to the mountains for a three-night respite sitting beside the creek in one of our favorite campgrounds in Cherokee, NC.  Helen made the reservation, grabbed a few books and her new puzzle, and we were off. The distance from our home is only 116 miles, and we can make the trip in about two hours in good traffic.

Once there, we pulled out the camping chairs and placed them beside the swiftly running SoCo Creek, swollen from recent rains.  The sound of rushing water is so soothing to the soul.  A raft of ducks swam by us. We counted 18 ducklings in total.  Momma Duck worked hard to keep her brood in tow—somehow, she succeeded, and the family kept us entertained for our entire visit.

I love our mountains and never tire of sitting with them in my view and usually linger long.  My thought process is, “if the mountains don’t feel a need to move, why should I?” On this day, the smoke of the Great Smoky Mountains dipped a little lower than usual, adding some texture to the scene.

Harrah’s Casino, operated by the Cherokee Tribe, is about two miles from the campground and, like a Siren’s song, begins to call Helen around four in the afternoon.  “What the heck, she says; let’s go for Happy Hour!” Helen had a BIG night in the casino, assuring us that she would return on each of the following two days. I had my BIG night two nights later.

We experienced one “uh-oh” during the trip. When I parked the trailer at our campsite, I suppose that I was so excited about a return to camping that I forgot to drop the tailgate before I unhooked—big mistake. The kingpin on the fifth wheel collided with the tailgate and damaged it.  I will have to get a new tailgate…there goes my big night in the casino.

When we checked into Happy Holiday Campground on Monday, the host told us we had to be out of our campsite by 11:00 am Thursday because a weekend Bluegrass Festival would start Thursday night. Campers wanting the best seats placed chairs under the Festival tent beginning on Monday. By Wednesday afternoon, camps were filling fast, and musicians were plucking and strumming everywhere in the campground. We drove out around 10:00 am, and an audience was already in place for the afternoon “Pick and Grin.”

At the end of a quiet week, we left quietly.