It was 5:30 p.m. on a hot Friday in August. The young woman sitting on the bench was wearing a knitted hat, thin dress and sandals.

“Are you guys going to the drum circle?” she bellowed as we crossed the street.

This is Asheville.

I’m about to leave after my first visit to the city. It’s fine. The restaurants are wonderful. The views are spectacular.

But drum circles, impromptu political protests and head shops really aren’t my scene. I felt like Captain Kirk warily surveying an alien planet whose inhabitants had gone insane.

I’m thankful we’re not here when UNC-Asheville is in session. Downtown already was crowded enough. It’s like they’re trying to cram 50 percent too much city into the existing infrastructure. Driving through town at night was harrowing, with constant lane changes, narrow streets, drunken kids falling out of bars and clubs and people who crossed the street whenever and wherever the mood hit. I could feel my brain quivering.

Asheville is a great base from which to set out and explore the Blue Ridge Parkway and places like the amazing Mount Mitchell. That was one of the better vacation experiences I’ve had in a while.

I’m detecting a pattern in vacation enjoyment — the farther I am from people, the more fun I have.

Our heroes return to Maine. Trevor describes consuming his first lobster, while Brian interviews Trevor’s teeth. Proudly offered in living color.

Read Brian’s account of the Montreal trip here.