Today, I drove up to Caesar’s Head, Table Rock, and Pretty Place to snap some photos. To my surprise, the sunny weather down in the valleys changed to a thick fog. As I motored up the winding narrow road, the weather would dramatically change from sunny to a mist and back again. When I entered a deep ravine, it actually started raining, but cleared up as soon as I topped the hill. Altitude is an amazing thing, isn’t it.

After driving for about an hour, I reached Caesar’s Head, which is a granite outcropping about 3300 ft. up that resembles…what else…Caesar’s Head. The thick haze cut through my denim shirt, like Pyrite through a miners fingers as he realises its fools gold. Oh, have I ever mentioned that this area is lined in gold, along with Pyrite? Just don’t come running to my streams with your gold pans!

I walked down a path or two, snapped a few pictures, and headed down the road a bit to Table Rock, which has two lakes. But, the main attraction to all visitors is the big arse rock that protrudes from the mountainside. The sad thing is that it has been abused by graffiti artist over the last few years. Although, some of the pieces are quite humorous. The fog had lifted a smidgen by the time I approached the edge of the rock to take some photos. The wind had settled as well, but it was still a biting autumn day in South Carolina.

I was running out of time, so I started back to my truck. I hadn’t realised it, but there was a boiled peanuts stand on the side of the road selling boiled and roasted peanuts. I walked up to the chap, asked how much, which he replied to by saying, “If you’ve got to ask, they are too expensive, right?”.

We laughed, I took three bags of boiled peanuts, and just as I was about to leave, he turned and asked, “Have you ever been up to Pretty Place?”.

“No, I’ve always wanted to go, but I’ve never been able to find the darn place”, I answered, whilst laying down the armful of peanuts.

“Well, take Highway 11 here up almost to the North Carolina line, and you’ll see a sign that says “Camp Greenville”, which is where Pretty Place is.”, He retored, with a congenial smile.

“Thank you, sir…I really appreciate the help”, I replied, as I shook his hand and began to walk away.

So, after about a half hour of driving, I pulled into pretty place, and it is a gorgeous little chapel that overlooks the blue ridge mountains. It’s a splendid spot to sit and reflect. Even with the mist rolling in, it was beauteous. Normally, most of the trees would have already transformed and began to shed their brilliantly coloured leaves, but mother winter is taking her sweet time this year.

While sitting on the edge, gazing at the fog tumbling across the bluish-green ridge tops and into the valleys below, I pondered about the people this land used to belong to, and how we’ve ravaged their land and sacred sites.

It’s not that I’m always looking at the bad end of things, it’s just that I have a conscious. You know, I may be of European/Celtic descent, but I am also 1/8 Cherokee, which I’ve discussed before. I mean, you certainly couldn’t tell it, if you ever met me. Yep, being speckled in freckles, strawberry-blond haired, and blue-green eyes doesn’t exactly match the criteria of being Native American.

My grandfather, which was half Cherokee and half Irish ,was a lively tall man. Both of his parents died, when he was young, so he had to fend for himself. Because of that, he was physically and emotionally strong, but cuddly at the same time. Anyway, he taught me all about the Cherokee Nation and the Trail of Tears. If this interest you, then “Trail of Tears; The Rise and Fall of the Cherokee Nation” is a must for your collection. It is a fascinating book that will even make a soulless person think twice the next time he or she crosses o’er a bridge named after a Native American Chief or passes through a city named after a Cherokee Chieftain.

After all of that pondering, I came home and plopped on the couch.

So, without further ado, here are today’s Phoctober shots. Thanks everyone.

Now, go eat some boiled peanuts!

Yet another whacky, off the beaten path, post by Jefferson Davis. You can find a multitude of my photos on my flickr page, if the mood suits you. Thanks…