As Laura put it, it was a weekend for puttering, not for heavy lifting. We started with some yard work Saturday morning, raking, blowing away pollen, spreading mulch, planting flowers, and even taking a few photos of said flowers.
I had gotten a message from my blogging friend Laura Llew that John Boyanoski would be signing copies of his books, Ghosts of Upstate South Carolina and More Ghosts of Upstate South Carolina, at Poor Richard’s Bookstore in Easley. I thought it might be fun to meet John, and to finally meet Laura L in person, so we headed out that way.When we got to Easley we found that they were having their Spring Fling, and Main Street, as well as several others, were blocked off. We found a place to park, and found our way to Main Street.
It was very hot, and I think that was affecting turnout. One street had a stage set up with a band playing, but the street looked deserted.
Main Street had a few pore people out and about, but there were nothing like the crowds that we encounter at festivals in Greenville.
We found the bookstore, and John B was out front. I had him sign the copies of the books that I brought, and we had a chance to chat for a bit. John said that he had almost enough material for a third book. If that’s the case, I look forward to new haunted locations. We browsed through the bookstore for a bit. Unfortunately, Laura L wasn’t working that day, so we didn’t get a chance to meet.
We found lunch at the Serendipity Cafe on Main Street. Even with a festival going on right outside, there was hardly anyone in the place. Don’t know why. It was much cooler, and the menu looked great. The food turned out to be pretty good, too.
From Easley we took the convertible and rode on up through Pickens, Pumpkintown, and the River Falls area. We had planned to ride more, but it was really hot, so we shortened the trip a bit.
The evening was spent with dinner at Benito’s Italian with our friends Bob and Jean, then rounded out with wine on the back deck listening to frogs on our lake.
Sunday
I had planned on directing the music at Fourth Presbyterian, but it turns out I wasn’t needed. Instead, we had a lazy start to the morning, then went out for breakfast at Stax Omega. As what usually happens at Stax, we ran into several people we knew.
When we got back to the house, Laura continued her gardening, and decided to put a kayak in our little lake. I saw tons of fish, some of them quite large. There are also many turtles out and about, including our own Loch Fairfield Monster – a huge snapping turtle. However, it’s always depressing to see how much silt and trash is filling in our lake.
After my paddle, Laura went shopping, and I decided to check out another silt-filled lake, Lake Conestee. First, however, I stopped by Haywood Mall where a little carnival had been set up. I took some time to shoot some of the bright colors, and the experiment with panning shots.
At Conestee I drove straight to the dam area. There was a parking area overlooking the lake, but the dam area was blocked off, as was all of the old Conestee Mill area. The lake itself was so silted in that there were even trees growing behind the dam. The area is being rehabilitated as a park, and will eventually be a nature preserve with boardwalks, etc. There are already several trails and observation areas on the north end of the lake.
I drove around the area a bit, trying to see if there was access to the Reedy River below Lake Conestee. I wasn’t successful, so I drove on up to one of the northern access points to the lake and hiked down the trail a bit.
The Lake Conestee Nature Preserve will eventually become part of a long greenway along the Reedy, which starts with the Swamp Rabbit Trail up in Travelers Rest, goes through Falls Park and Cleveland Park in Greenville, and winds up here. The new Hincapie Trail portion had just opened leading south from Cleveland Park along the river, so I headed into town to check that out. Unfortunately, that area was an absolute zoo, with several parties going on at picnic shelters. I decided to wait until a less crowded day.