Grandfather Mountain is the highest peak on the Blue Ridge , a hanging bridge connects parts of the mountain to the top ,there a few trails in the area from all of them there is fantastic view that is hard to describe with words http://www.grandfather.com/about/
Just before the Mountain a Gospel Festival took place starting at10Am till 3pm ,the place was crowded and a few bands took turns playing on the stage facing the beautiful Grandfather Mountain.
After 2 hours of great music we drove to the Grandfather Mountain S.P,after been separated from 30$ (expensive) we entered the park taking the round-trip around it and discovered every possible corner.
The scenery all over is stunning and although it was misty it did not take any of the beauty,in a clear day it is possible to see Charlotte (accordingly to the ranger).
We found a great place for a picnic and drove to Blowing Rock a beautiful manicured town,with nice shops,playgrounds nestled between the mountains,we were greeted by a Blue Grass Band playing in street while people sat around to listen.
Just a short distance from the town The Blowing Rock Trail located and the legend says:
that a Chickasaw chieftan, fearful of a white man’s admiration for his lovely daughter, journeyed far from the plains to bring her to The Blowing Rock and the care of a squaw mother. One day the maiden, daydreaming on the craggy cliff, spied a Cherokee brave wandering in the wilderness far below and playfully shot an arrow in his direction. The flirtation worked because soon he appeared before her wigwam, courted her with songs of his land and they became lovers, wandering the pathless woodlands and along the crystal streams.
One day a strange reddening of the sky brought the brave and the maiden to The Blowing Rock. To him it was a sign of trouble commanding his return to his tribe in the plains. With the maiden’s entreaties not to leave her, the brave, torn by conflict of duty and heart, leaped from The Rock into the wilderness far below. The grief-stricken maiden prayed daily to the Great Spirit until one evening with a reddening sky, a gust of wind blew her lover back onto The Rock and into her arms. From that day a perpetual wind has blown up onto The Rock from the valley below. For people of other days, at least, this was explanation enough for The Blowing Rock’s mysterious winds causing even the snow to fall upside down.
It was a nice long drive “home” and as I am writing this blog I experience it all the great minutes of the day all over again.