Visiting my maternal grandparents and great aunt on Runions Creek in Broadway, Va. has always been my favorite thing.

Today, turning onto their winding dirt road still calls to mind the hand-cut fries of my childhood.

My dad and grandfather are responsible for maintaining the road. Whether or not it is pothole-ridden is dependent on how recently it rained.

The long road leads past their home and up the side of a mountain. The path beyond their home requires 4 wheel drive even in summer.

When there’s snow and ice, forget about it.

When we were younger, I would take long walks to the end of the road with my grandma. Going on walks was our hobby, no matter the season.

The rickety bridge we’d walk crosses the creek itself. The spot is a beautiful place to skip rocks, watch minnows in the water and reflect.

Their home is special. My grandparents built it themselves, room by room.

Every fixture in the house was installed by a family member. The Reedys and the Ritchies are industrious.

If you look out the kitchen window you’ll see up the mountainside.

Most afternoons you’ll catch a glimpse of white-tailed deer and wild turkeys grazing. If you see less than 6 of either at a time, it’s a slow day. My great aunt Eunice is usually the first to spot them.

It’s a magical place.

When I visit, I unplug and unwind. Their house is blissfully out of reach of internet providers and cell phone towers. If you hold your phone at an angle next to the window you can sometimes send or receive a text message.

Sometimes.

The landline is far more reliable, but don’t expect to conduct much business. Call waiting is an unnecessary luxury. If you need to reach my grandma, you’ll have to wait your turn.

Over the years, I’ve worked on homework and writing projects at her kitchen table more than anywhere else. It’s where I feel the most inspired, most at home and most like myself.

These days when I visit we pass the hours with conversation. Asking about relatives, friends, and mundane goings-on takes up more time than you’d think.

If we run out of chit chat there are plenty of crossword and Sudoku puzzle books to keep us busy and out of trouble.

No matter how long I stay the trip is always surreal. I used to joke my grandparents live in Narnia, the fictional world of C.S. Lewis.

I made the joke because of the beautiful scenery and the lack of modern noise and light pollution. When I’m there, time slows to a crawl.

I try to savor every moment along with the home-cooked meals.

Even moving at a snail’s pace, the visits are never long enough.

Their home is so far removed from the normal hustle and bustle of everyday life. Stress melts away in a way spa treatments could never match.

My grandparents might as well live on the moon.

It’s hard to believe, even now, that all that separates me from a tall glass of sweet tea on their front porch is a 7-hour drive.

It sounds like an eternity, but it’s no time at all.