First stop, Little Switzerland. North Carolina, that is...but sounded exotic, didn't it? I am participating in a two week writer's retreat and workshop atop a mountain in the North Eastern part of the state. After taking a spectacular, weaved highway, you travel a mile or so on a climbing, twisting gravel path called Wild Acres Road. GM's new rally campaign could have used footage of me driving this route in the convertible and July sun. When you reach the top, you are greeted by a lovely, and not even too rustic collection of dorms, library, lodge, outdoor theater, indoor auditorium, canteen and dining hall that make up Wild Acres Retreat.

I usually say that San Diego is where God lives, assuming that's the town he'd choose for its consistent and prefect weather. I might have underestimated God, perhaps he'd prefer this mountain top. The mornings are moderate, warm enough for shorts but cool enough to take a jog. The sunny afternoons are breezy and the high moon lights the sweatshirt-cool evenings. Songs lift off guitar strums, float, and mingle with the rustle of leaves on thousands of massive trees.

The purpose here is to write. Connect with other writers, learn, relax, get feedback, generate ideas...and write. I've been doing all those things, but decided to throw in another objective. Some time ago, before his death in an ultralite plane accident, my friend Brian Kwan handed me a guitar after my expression of a wish to learn the instrument. I bought a book, learned proper posture, and never did even get the missing string! When evaluating what to take and what to ditch, I couldn't bear to abandon my guitar dream before I'd really given it a try. My idea was simple. I can't tell you how many times I've sat around a campfire (or similar gathering minus the fire) and someone plays song after song...impressive. But when I comment on their playing, the response is "Oh I only know a handful of chords." Well, I want a few chords and a whole evening's worth of songs...one chord at a time! I came to the right place. First night I met Freddie, Wild Acres Band Leader. This guy plays guitar and mandolin, has more songs memorized that I knew existed and writes at least one new song EVERY DAY. After shutting up the doubtful voice in my head I blurted out, "I brought a guitar and want to learn." Little did I know I was also speaking to a most enthusiast and patient teacher. It is now 8 chords and one whole song later. That's right, I'm a little slow on the chord changes, but I can play Buddy Holly's "It Doesn't Matter Anymore!"

Now, an update on the crate system. I've haven't come across a situation yet the crates haven't been able to handle, though I must admit to a heavy reliance on the miscellaneous box. I've been washing my workout clothes in the sink (more mountain retreat-like than heading into town to the laundry mat) and retrieved my jump rope to use as a clothesline. When I rounded up and convinced a group of folks to learn/play some Texas Holdem' last night, I retrieved the card deck. We debated what to use for chips until I remember our Stratego game (Fred swears it's fun and he'll teach me this summer.) Turns out that 40 plastic soldiers make fine poker chips! Probably the best choice was a single Cutco knife. It's become my scissor, bottle opener, nail clipper, and I'm sure I'll find more uses for that finely cut three sided patented blade design. Well, other than missing my sidekick, it's been a perfect start to Untoursim: lazy paced, swimming, writing, hiking, singing, and making friends.