24 hours in a treehouse
Earlier this year after one vacation ended, I took a small post-vacation vacation. Sometimes your vacation is so exhausting that you need a vacation to recover from your vacation, right? Or maybe sometimes you just want to delay returning home just a little.
Plus staying in a treehouse is now something I can check off my 'bucket list' ... am I right?
So the post-vacation stay was a simple 24 hours in a a treehouse in the back woods of South Carolina in the very small town of Walhalla. I was actually supposed to have 48 hours here but a delay by United Airlines grossly cut that in half. My good friend from Atlanta drove up to hang out in the treehouse with me and we did our best to relax during our short little stay.
When I finally found the farm and spotted the treehouse, I parked and jumped out of the car as fast as possible with no regard to the pouring rain, grabbed a few of my things I needed for a night, ran down the gravel slope and up the ramp and stepped inside. I put a record on and began obsessively looking around as raindrops pounded on the metal roof of the treehouse.
After I looked around at every single detail inside and out,“now what?” I thought. The rain had mostly subsided by this point.
I curled up under the blanket on the hanging rope swing bed underneath the treehouse and listened to the sound of the light rain as I drifted into what was probably the best nap I’ve ever had.
What felt like four hours but was actually about twenty minutes later, I awoke to the abrupt sound (she is the type of lady who always makes her presence known and I love her for it) of Lola, a friend who lives in Atlanta, arriving at the treehouse. It’s only a short drive to Walhalla from Atlanta so when I booked this treehouse months prior I invited her to stay with me. We share a love for tiny spaces so it just seemed right. The two of us spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Bolt Farm land and catching up on life. Still talking, we found dinner in the little town of Walhalla in the evening.
Later that night found us in matching robes and slippers each with a bottle of wine in hand (compliments of the Bolt Farm). We sat beside the big window facing the darkest Carolina woods and attempted a poor game of Scrabble. I started nodding off around 9pm—I was exhausted. This recovery vacation from my vacation was legit necessary.
We gave in and went to bed (the most comfortable bed, might I add) and I instantly passed out.
The next morning was ideal. We laughed when we nearly broke the tiny coffee maker and then drank our coffee and ate our little complimentary breakfast (toasted english muffins and strawberry preserves).
We didn’t do much. I don’t even think we talked much. It was one of those times where words weren’t necessary. I think we were both speechless.
After sitting outside in the South Carolina winter (not as warm as you may think) for too long signing the guestbook, I was ... well, frozen. I sat in front of the heater for awhile before exploring and taking (possibly too many) pictures of the inside and the outside. Finally we said our goodbyes to each other and to the treehouse a mere 24 hours after arriving. I looked at the treehouse in my rear view mirror with a full heart and thankful for the 24 hour adventure. •