First Day In Black Rock
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So back in our car again, we drove further into the mountains to reach Black Rock Mountain State Park, where we were staying for the weekend. It turned out to only be about 5 minutes from the hotel, and we initially missed the turn because it was this tiny back road turnoff. The drive up the mountain was nerve-wracking; lots of twists and turns and steep cliffs. There was a small hidden driveway with a large sign for a southern Baptist church that we were curious about, but we kept heading further toward the top of the mountain, with a note in our heads to make sure we explored it later. When we got to the campground, it was still early so the office was closed.
We spent a while sitting out on the dock and skipping rocks on the water. After a good amount of sunlight, and determining this was not where we were supposed to be, we got back in our car to go back up the mountain. As we started our ascent, an F-250 with a lovely couple pulled up alongside us, asking whether we were going to be able to make it up the mountain. Of course we said we would have no problem, but just in case the couple gave us their cell phone number to call if we needed any help. Well, about halfway up the mountain, our tires just wouldn't go any further. We had just rounded a hairpin turn and were on a steep incline, and no matter how much we stepped on the gas, the wheels just rode straight into the ground. We must've tried for an hour to get the car up, to no avail. My brand new car, stuck on the side of a mountain. We had no cell reception to call the rangers, or the helpful couple, so the only thing we could do was go back down. Putting the car in reverse, I stood behind the car and led Jacob as he slowly drove it to a point where we could turn the car around. We did a three-point turn that was closer to a thirty-point turn, as I stood on the side of the cliff; if he hit me, we were going over. Finally, we got back down to the bottom and parked at the dock. We called the ranger station, who screamed at us about not reading the signs and told us we would have to call a tow truck company who might be able to help, that would cost hundreds of dollars. As we hung up and tried to remember the number they gave us, the couple we met on the way up was just getting done with their trail. They agreed to try to help us, so we followed them up to the point we got stuck at, and started tying up the car with canoe straps. Jake got behind the wheel, floored it, and snap, there went the canoe straps. One more rope left, I decided to drive instead. Luckily I'm a bit softer on the accelerator, and we were able to make it up the mountain. It turns out the couple was celebrating their eighth wedding anniversary. We didn't get their names, and they wouldn't accept our money, even for the broken canoe straps. Those people are awesome.
Now that we were safe and sound, we decided to go into the park and find out info about white water kayaking and rafting in the area. Unfortunately, seeing as it was November, we learned that there weren't any guided groups for rafting. I didn't feel like I was a strong enough kayaker at the time to be able to do the rapids by myself, so we ended up hiking on a couple of the trails.
On the drive back up our mountain, the church we had driven past so many times finally piqued our interest. Down another narrow and winding road, taking us to what seemed to be the bottom of the one mountain going into the other, was a small white church. The darkness and tall church spire made an eerie scene, but beautiful at the same time.