You Really Can’t Go Back

When I was in college I maintained my sanity by getting away from campus on my motorcycle. A few places drew me back time and again. One I would always do alone because everyone thought I was crazy for wanting to do it. I’d stop at the Krispy Kreme store right by the municipal airport, buy a coffee and a couple of raspberry filled doughnuts, and then carefully balancing the cup and bag of goodies, ride up to a high spot overlooking the north end of the main runway. I’d sit on my faithful mount, consume the delicious snack and watch airplanes take off and land. A mouthful of pleasure and eyes full of visual poetry. I could never understand why nobody else saw this as a heavenly pastime. Today my old spot is the official observation area. But they have put up a fence that kinda spoils the vibe. Also, between the price of avgas and the gutting the light aviation industry received in the 80’s at the hands of our whacked tort system, the once busy airport is very quiet, as are most small airports these days. I didn’t expect to see any planes flying and indeed I did not.

Another one of my haunts was more popular with my friends. At the top of Paris Mountain, the high point of the environs of Greenville, there is an open rock face one could park very near and climb down to for a beautiful vista. It was a magical place where we’d go to watch sunsets or just enjoy being up high. It was a favorite place to bring a special date and I remember having a magical experience or two there for the first time in my life. Pretty tame stuff by today’s standards but pretty spectacular to me at the time. I passed through the area on my way to the mountains over the weekend and ran up the old Paris Mountain road as I’d done probably a hundred times while I was a student. I hadn’t been on that road in 25 years but I remembered each turn and bend in the road as it came up. But the once desolate road along the top of the ridge now had a house tucked into every possible niche. It was just about sundown so I thought I’d stop and watch the sunset from the old rock face. When I got near it, to my great disappointment, a sturdy gate and threatening signs blocked the way.

I wandered down and around the front side of the mountain and got a view of the rock from below. From the cleared lot of a subdivision going in just beneath it on the hillside. A young couple in their early 30’s parked their shiny new Hummer and walked up to me. Turns out I was standing where their house was to be built and they had come to see the lot which had been cleared that very day. I told them I’d experienced their mountain some thirty years ago. But some places you just can’t really go back to.

A more idealistic time, circa 1978. I wrote about another event that took place on this rock and just placed a couple more pictures there which were shot at the same time as this one.