On 2 January, my friends and I set out from Charlotte, NC, where we spent the weekend breaking in the New Year, and headed up to the North Carolina Mountains with our sights set on a great weekend of skiing. There were six of us and even though we all had a different skill level, everyone was filled with enthusiasm and excitement as we made the trek up to the mountains. Being an avid skier myself—who hadn’t had the chance to ski in a few years—I was especially excited about getting back out on the slopes. I love having a chance to take in the beauty of the mountains while at the same time flying down the ski slope, feeling the wind in my face.

Shortly after arriving at our cabin, we picked up our skis and headed out to the slopes to try and make use of the remaining daylight, before taking on night skiing later that evening. One of my friends had never skied before, and I must admit when we first got her out on the slopes the scene was pretty comical. We started her off easy on the bunny slope–but eventually she decided for her own safety that she would enroll in a lesson or two at the ski school. Throughout the course of the week she fell more times then we could count, and ended up flying down the mountain backwards on several occasions—but all in all, she managed to pick up the basic skills of skiing within three days. By the end of the week she was having a lot of fun and was very proud to have accomplished the sport.

I myself had a wonderful time as well. I was a little rusty–having not skied for a few years–but after a couple of runs down the mountain I was back to the skier I had been before and challenging myself with new slopes and techniques. I also decided to take some intermediate lessons to learn a few new skills and just to get some feedback on my form and style. I had never taken a lesson before but I was glad I did. The ski instructors were very helpful and it was interesting to learn how to become a better skier.

All in all, our ski trip was a success. Although there was one tiny, little problem—I don’t know if any of you remember, but the week after New Year’s was an unseasonably warm one in North Carolina, even in the mountains. The ski resorts were only able to make snow the first night we were there. Although that snow maintained for a couple of days, by Thursday and Friday of that week we were constantly swerving to avoid various mud puddles and grassy areas on the slopes. I have to say we did not do much skiing towards the end of the week, but that was okay because we used that time to sightsee and to just bond as friends.

One ski resort I would recommend is the Wolf Ridge Ski Resort in Mars Hill, NC. This ski resort is a popular one, located about five miles from I-26 at Exit 3, about 30 miles north of Asheville. The resort holds 82 acres of ski terrain with slopes suiting all levels, from the wary beginner to the seasoned expert. It has 15 slopes, 4 lifts, and offers tubing, an option for the non-skiers in your group. It is a family-oriented resort with plenty of parking and two beautiful ski lodges complete with massive stone fireplaces that accommodate families, walk-ins, and large groups. The Wolf Ridge Ski Resort also boasts of its top-rated snow sports school, which offers group and private lessons which can be useful to both individuals and families. If you are looking for a place to ski near Asheville, Wolf Ridge Ski Resort is a great option.

Another ski resort, located in the Maggie Valley area, is the Cataloochee Ski Area. This resort has 10 slopes, 3 lifts, a rope tow, and a magic carpet lift. It is nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains of North Carolina and is about 40 minutes from Asheville. This resort, like Wolf Ridge, offers slopes for all different skill levels and even has a terrain park complete with ramps, rails, and boxes for the expert skier wanting to practice his tricks. The resort also has a cozy little lodge that is great for warming up and enjoying a nice mug of hot cocoa. If you are in the Maggie Valley area, this ski resort would be a great place for you.

I myself am trying to make it up to the mountains for one more weekend of skiing, before the warmer spring weather sets in, and hopefully I’ll be able to find time in my schedule to plan a trip. To me there is nothing more thrilling then skiing down a freshly coated mountain on a sunny day taking in that fresh mountain air and I know some of you must share my sentiment. Happy skiing!

Early January is a great time to consider one’s place in the universe and one’s plans for the future. For some, reflecting on the endless ways in which different cultures view the passing of the year is particularly instructive. For example, the Roman calendar contained twelve months and inspired our own. Martius, the first month and precursor to the modern “March”, was keyed to the spring equinox, when the natural world woke each year from a wintery slumber. December was originally the tenth month (”dec-” being a Latin root meaning “ten”) and was devoid of contemporary New Year’s bacchanalia.

The Chinese New Year is based on a Lunisolar calendar, which calculates dates based on comparative observations of the sun and moon. The New Year begins sometime in either January or February, and is pegged to the fifteenth day following the beginning of the first lunar month. The typical celebrations hearken from an ancient myth in which terrified villagers drive away a man-eating dragon using fireworks—themselves a mainstay of western celebrations.

And then there are opossums, popularly called “possums” and known to science as Didelphis virginiana. This humble creature has become an unwitting New Year’s participant in the small settlement of Brasstown, North Carolina (population, 832). Following the example of their Northern cousins in New York City, where a shimmering, lighted ball is lowered on Times Square each New Year’s Eve, citizens of Brasstown gather in a gas station parking lot to view a caged possum be lowered via construction crane. Not the pinnacle of high culture, perhaps, but a cherished provincial tradition. Brasstown is approximately 9,787 times smaller than New York City.

The small Appalachian town, like much of eastern North America, is a natural habitat for the possum (properly, “opossum”). A remarkably well-adapted mammal, the possum is an “opportunistic omnivore” with many sharp teeth and a prehensile, or grasping, tail. Typically nocturnal, they are quiet and solitary animals with a predisposition to play “dead”. Like all marsupials, it carries its young within a protective pouch until the brood reach adolescence. Amazingly enough, the immune system of an adult possum is capable of resisting quite powerful toxins, such as rattlesnake venom. However, the smarter, and occasionally predatory species Homo sapiens has found other unusual uses for the possum.

According to the New York Times, the Brasstown ceremony features a possum caged and suspended being slowly lowered to ground level, where triumphant villagers then set the hapless creature free again. Animal rights activists have derided the practice as obscene and barbaric, having protested and attempted to have the possum drop discontinued. North Carolina law is ambiguous concerning possible cruelty to animals during the festivities. Brasstown nevertheless delivers several sideshows which devilishly cruel to the senses, though absurdly amusing—blasting of aluminum cans with vintage muskets, and the “Miss Possum” contest, where badly-shaven truck drivers don party dresses, high heels, and gaudy makeup for the evening.

The Possum Drop bestows a certain perverse notoriety on Brasstown, the “Possum Capital of the World,” which is otherwise famous for harboring abortion-clinic bomber Eric Rudolph. What’s next… a Fourth-of-July Kangaroo?

This is my first posting from the Carolina Mornings Blog. Around the office, we spend our days around here setting up reservations for visitors to Asheville and other spots around Western North Carolina–but the best times are the “field trips” we occasionally take to investigate the outside world. I would call this (in the words of my Mississippi grandmother) Galavanting. You might define galavanting as wandering, ranging, or roaming, but I would propose a more subtle understanding–a sort of contented exploration, or the joy of discovery. Or even Entdeckungsvernugen, in the style of a Volkswagen commercial.

And so galavanting is our general theme–we’re interested in comings and goings around the lovely Blue Ridge region, from every peak through every hollow. We’ll be exploring local culture, news, cuisine, trends… and everything in between. Like a river, our interests flow ever onward. Check back for regular musings on Asheville and other local communities. Read on!