Just down the road (less than a mile) we entered the town of Chimney Rock. The town itself, under the granite cliffs, was an interesting, touristy place with restaurants and shops. However, the main attraction was Chimney Rock State Park. The entrance was on the main street, right in the middle of town. We drove a couple miles up the side of a mountain before reaching the toll booth ($14 per person), but probably worth it for the scenery and the hours that we spent there. The attendant told us that the main parking lot was a few more miles ahead. We decided to stop at one of the well-placed picnic tables along the roadway to eat the lunch that Dianne packed. Then on to the parking area.
Dianne has always been a little afraid of heights, and she will admit that she was a little uncomfortable. But, the real problem was Chaplin! About half-way to the top he literally froze on the steps - would not go up or down! Jasper was on my leash, and was literally bounding up the steps, but Dianne could not get Chaplin to move. After a struggle, we reached a flat catwalk area. Dianne wanted to go back down. I said, "Oh, come on! Hiking to the Chimney top was the main reason we came. Selfishly, (as Dianne will tell you), I insisted that we trudge forward. We traded dogs, and off we went - up about ten steps, where Chaplin again froze and went into his stubborn, I am not moving, mode. Poor thing, he really was scared. So, we abandoned the climb and slowly descended back to the start.
Dianne suggested that I take the elevator to the top while she watched the dogs. Since I knew that she really did not want to hang over the edge of a cliff, even for a spectacular view, I agreed. The trip on the elevator was uneventful, other than the friendly operator extolling the food and must-haves in the gift shop at the top. I quickly ascended a few more steps to the top and took a couple of dizzying photos straight down, trying to capture the stairs and catwalks where we had so much trouble. The view of the valley really was something to see.
Because I knew that Dianne and the boys were waiting, I didn't linger. When I found them back at the entrance, a small group of people were talking to Dianne about Chaplin's plight. He was hiding behind the bench with his tail so much between his legs that it seemed to be attached to his stomach. Joking with the group, I said that "The dog and the blonde lady didn't care for the steps."
Because I knew that Dianne and the boys were waiting, I didn't linger. When I found them back at the entrance, a small group of people were talking to Dianne about Chaplin's plight. He was hiding behind the bench with his tail so much between his legs that it seemed to be attached to his stomach. Joking with the group, I said that "The dog and the blonde lady didn't care for the steps."
We knew Chaplin was happy because his tail unclenched and returned to its normal position behind his body, rather than wedged underneath it. Jasper (as always) had a blast, scampering along the trail.
