Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, February 4, 1993 TAG: 9302040212
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BETH MACY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
ALL-GIRL VACATION DOESN'T GO UP IN SMOKE - IT WAS A TRIP
Listen up, girlfriends.You've got your best friend in the world visiting for a week from out of state. Using her precious-few paid vacation days to visit you in Roanoke. In the middle of winter.
She's already seen The Star.
Your favorite restaurants? She's been to those, too.
To make it even more challenging, she's just given up cigarettes after 10-plus years of smoking. She's serious this time; even brought a week's supply of nicotine patches with her.
So you'd better keep up the vacation pace and show her a really good time.
In Roanoke.
In the middle of winter.
Luckily, I've been there, last week in fact. I can even give you some pointers, hints for hostessing those vacationing girlfriends in the Star City - without relying on men . . . or Marlboros.
You won't find these in a tourism brochure at the Visitor's Center. But in light of all the new tourism initiatives, maybe we could start plugging the healthfulness of Roanoke as a smoke-cessation tourist destination?
Herewith are my suggestions for the All-Girl (Smokeless) Vacation Without Leaving Town.
Get girly. It's not every week that you get to primp, pamper and whirlpool yourself into mush. So go for it. Shop for matching outfits, like the faux-leather/faux-silk vests my friend and I bought last week. (It's OK, if you live in different towns.)
The '70s are back, I'm convinced, so why not henna each other's hair? Simply glom on the henna, rub it in, cover with Handi-Wrap, then blow-dry for 10 minutes. Rinse out and voila!
Some hair-coloring history: Six years ago, my friend allowed me to "highlight" her hair with the product of my choice. After careful deliberation, I chose eggplant, a dark brown shade with the mere suggestion, or "sheen," of purple.
The sheen, it turned out, registered somewhere between marshmallow Easter bunny pink and grape Kool-Aid.
The next evening, at a meeting my friend covered for a newspaper, a school board member stood up during proceedings, pointed at her head and gulped: "What happened to your hair?"
So you can see why last week I wasn't entrusted with the kind of henna that gives your hair the sheen of red. This henna was purely protein-pack conditioning. A bit boring, if you ask me, which is why we accompanied it with:
Other beauty-enhancing treatments. Such as almond-oil bubble baths (with loofah and February Cosmopolitan), avocado-oatmeal face masks and bottles of cold Bass Ale.
All of which gave my friend a surplus of cigarette cravings, wrinkled skin and questionable Cosmo advice ranging from "An Intimate Study of the Nineties Stud," to "Be a Lover, Not a Loner: An Emotional Makeover Kit."
Clearly, the pace had to be quickened, some aerobic activity introduced. We headed for the YMCA, where we stashed our stuff in the locker room and jogged right into the:
Steam shower and whirlpool bath. While everyone else was getting out of their noontime aerobics tights and back into their work pantyhose, we traipsed our smug, toweled bodies into the steam shower, where the haze was so thick we couldn't see our own legs (but could sense the pounds and inches melting away). We vowed to work up an honest outdoor sweat the next day by:
Hiking on the Appalachian Trail. We chose McAfee Knob, not because of its distance (seven miles round-trip), but because of its terrain (hilly, but not too steep a climb). Smoker's lungs had to be considered, the knob-top view notwithstanding.
About two hours into the weekday hike, we'd passed only two other people. The day was gorgeous, the leaf-less winter views expansive.
The breathing, unfortunately, was labored. Worse yet, a trail marker said there was still 1.5 more miles to go to get to the top.
A few minutes later we spotted some knoblike rocks jutting out over a cliff.
"Looks like a knob to me," she said.
Yeah, and the view . . . it looked amazingly similar to the view I'd seen before at the top.
Before I could even get the question out - "Do you want to turn around and go back?" - we had done it.
Seen one mountain view, seen 'em all.
Of course later at a party we left no adjective untouched, recounting the view as gloriously breathtaking, stunning in its winter starkness, unmatched by any other mountaintop view.
Pretty much just like we'd been there.
And so I'm here to tell you that Roanoke's not such a bad place to vacation, even in January.
There are feel-good movies to see or rent. "Sister Act," "Scent of a Woman" and "Used People" all fit our vacation viewing requirements: happy, sappy, one-cry-per-movie.
There are afternoons to spend looking out over the mountains, particularly from the comforts of a glassed-in sunporch.
There are even attractions to visit. My friend loved Miniature Graceland ("just like Memphis!" she said), the Wasena "Missile" Bridge ("just like NASA!") and driving under the giant arch at Crossroads Mall ("just like St. Louis!").
She was even fascinated by Harris Teeter, which she'd insisted must be a men's clothing store (those wacky Ohioans).
Best yet: It's been 10 days so far, and she still hasn't smoked. Like the cigarette billboard penguin says: Is that Kool or what?!
Macy Beth Macy, a features department staff writer and a Gemini, refuses to believe her Cosmo-scope that February will yield family feuds, nagging and restlessness. Her column runs Thursdays.