Last weekend Jeff & I escaped to Grandfather Mountain for my birthday, as my grandmother has a place up there — you can’t quite see the house in the pic linked above (click to enlarge), which I took from the top of the mountain, but you *almost* can…it’d be just off the right hand side of the screen at the top.  Grandma bought her first condo at Grandfather sometime in the early 70’s — I don’t remember exactly when, though I know it was before 1976, as I remember watching the bicentennial fireworks from the top of the tallest bridge.

The bridges, in fact, have always been one of my favorite things about the property — you can walk all the way across the lake on the bridges, going from island to island (which Jeff & I did Friday night after arriving rather late.  Thankfully Jeff thinks ahead and had brought a flashlight…).  BTW, the plan is for my brother to be married on one of the islands next summer — should be gorgeous!

Saturday morning, after having brunch on the patio overlooking the lake, we drove around the club (Grandfather Golf & Country Club — they have no website!) for a while looking at all the houses (which are *incredible*), then went up to Grandfather Mountain (the “attraction” part) and saw the animals in the nature habitats (my pics of bears and whatnot) and walked across the Mile-High Swinging Bridge.  Great weather and fabulous view, though Jeff made me nervous with all of his scrambling over the rocks like a mountain goat.

After heading back to the club, we took out a golf cart and tooled along the courses (two 18-hole ones) — whee!  (Although there apparently is some sort of governor on the engine, as we didn’t get nearly the speed up that we should’ve on some of the longer hills).  Then we went to the driving range and Jeff taught me how to hit a golf ball — and I didn’t suck!  Other than taking a hunk out of the palm of my hand (when I hit the dirt rather hard instead of the ball), I’d have to say it was an unmitigated success (sort of amazing for me, a truly uncoordinated person if there ever was one).

Saturday evening we took Grandma up on her very kind birthday treat: dinner on her at the club. It was tapas and jazz night (they had a little four-piece combo playing); however, by the time we’d eaten we were way too full to dance.  The food was incredible:  amongst other things, I had probably the best crab cakes I’ve ever put in my mouth, and Jeff’s lobster dumpling was just as good.  Eventually we rolled home, and slept the sleep of the extremely exhausted.

Sunday morning we woke up to a rainy, grey day (that was still pretty in a rather dismal way), which was just as well anyway as Jeff had work crises to solve via Blackberry and then we had to hit the road.  We had time for a quick stop at The Ham Shoppe to pick up sandwiches on the way out of town, but then it was just the long drive home. All in all, though, the trip was too short, but great anyway.