Linville Falls, NC: Beyond the Falls

Pictured:  Table Rock, NC

We returned to the Linville Gorge for July 4th weekend and took the "kids" with us.

It's been a family tradition for many years now to take a family friend -- Grayson -- with us on these camping/holiday trips:

In Which the Boys Play Nothing But a G Chord for 12 Miles

In Which the Boys First Discovered the Rapids of "Bad Baby"

In Which Grayson Thinks Brevard is Like Wagener . . . On Steroids

He looks so much like our son, in fact, that in one family photo from the year my son did not go, many people thought it was my son in the photo, not Grayson. My son himself thought it was him....
 Looking at the photo, my son scratched his chin and said, "Gee, I don't remember that trip at all."

The two of them like to fish together, that's the main thing.  But always, always they get into other adventures.  Like the time they discovered a white water rapid in which they could bob along without a boat... or lifevest.... they named that patch of river "Bad Baby."  I hate Bad Baby.

On the first night of this trip, they went out with my husband to scout a place to fish the next day.  A quick trip.  When they hadn't returned by 10, I went on to bed.  I heard them come in around midnight I think.  Full of hilarious stories and breath-taking adventures which I slept through, sort of.    The next morning they were so shocked I was asleep when they came in.  "Weren't you worried??" they pleaded.  "Dad said you'd have called the police and come out looking for us!"  I yawned and stretched.  "No..... Nope, wasn't worried."  I learned a long, long time ago not to worry, it would just be a waste of time and ruin my vacation.  Turns out this time I should have worried.  They got lost.  In the forest.  After dark.  The glow-in-the-dark frisbee was the only light they had.  Their knees and shins were covered in blood and scratches.  They crawled along cliffs, certain their next step would be their last.  I slept.  Like a baby.  A Bad Baby.

They are too stinkin' wild out on the river.  And reckless.  I can't possibly stay in a state of worry, it would kill me.  And now?  My son is married!  His wife has taken on the role of worrier!   I can't wait to see how she is in 20 years, I bet she'll quit worrying by then.

But.... then again... this is she:

So.

Maybe I'll start worrying for her now. 

They found a new patch of river for me to worry about, very close to Linville Falls.  It's on the Upper Creek that feeds into the Catawba.  Pictured here all huddled on a rock in a deep pool.  I was about 500 feet up the creek where I couldn't see them, couldn't worry about them and was pleasantly reading a book or writing or something.  Biting my nails?  OK, I was worrying.  I much prefer them in this position:

By the way, they did get into an adventure that landed them in the emergency room the following night and involved a fishing hook in Grayson's forehead:

And I most certainly DID worry.

8 Top Things To Do In Linville Falls, NC