Many people don't know that I grew up in Tryon, North Carolina; a town the size of a penny in comparison to the rest of the world and where everyone knows everyone and everything about everyone. Even though I may have outgrown Tryon it was hands down the most perfect place to have a childhood. No concerns of creepers or child molesters. Children could run around in the woods all day as long as we were home by night fall and your next door neighbor was at least 2 miles away, in turn leaving you with acres and acres of untouched land to have mysterious adventures in.
One of the largest events in Tryon is the annual Blue Ridge BBQ Festival. I haven't been in years and this year my brother and I made a last minute decision to go for the sake of memories. Well, it certainly hasn't changed but it has made me realize how much I have. For the past year I have been having numerous dreams about Tryon and coming back to see it all has been quite eye opening in ways that I don't fully comprehend yet. For now I am learning to embrace my North Carolina aesthetic and make it my own. Anyways to keep you all interested in this post past my self indulging rambling I leave you with a photo documentation of my little home town.
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| Our town mascot, Morris the Horse |
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| Amazing loafers I spotted on someone at the BBQ Festival |
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| The Pacolet River and my childhood playing spot. |
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| Forrest getting his feet in the water and looking strikingly like Huckleberry Finn. |
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| A local crafts-seller |
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For 2 days people from all over the state come to Tryon to listen to classic bluegrass, drink beer, and eat BBQ and ribs.
Not to shabby for a town hosting the world's smallest daily newspaper.... |
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