hiking

A Walk In Winter: Not To Be Missed

January 25, 2016 by Leah Leave a Comment

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about choices. Today I woke up, puttered around the kitchen for a while, read a book, started to take a nap, and finally forced myself to get out of bed and leave the house. We’ve had snow here in Nashville which has been a bit of a phenomenon because it’s actually hung around. Most of the time when it snows here, the totals barely reach an inch and within a few hours become a distant memory as we slog through mud for a few days. I haven’t been able to get into the woods over the past few weekends because of bad weather and things we had going on, but today I was determined to see the trees covered in snow.

As I left the house and crunched along the ice on our road, I kept thinking about turning around, but the main roads were clear. When I pulled into the park, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I didn’t fix or filter any of these pictures, this is just how it was. And the whole time I was walking and trudging up the trail I kept thinking, “I could have missed this. I could have stayed inside and missed this.”

Edwin Warner Park

“I would have missed this…” It got me thinking. How much do I miss as a result of certain choices? It’s always easier to stay home, snuggle up with a cat and a book, drink some tea, and bliss out on a good story. It’s easier than making the effort to pick up the phone or make time in the calendar to connect with friends. Easier than getting bundled up and walking to town for exercise when it’s cold out. Easier than planning a trip and going to the airport and flying somewhere. It’s always easier to stay home. But is it always worth it?

I’m married to a man who is slowly introducing balance into my life because we are opposites in just about every way. Where I feel the need to GO GO GO in order to feel productive and be inspired, he feels the need to rest and relax as a result of the physically exhausting nature of his job. So on days where I’m dying to get out, he is often aching to put his feet up and chill. We are learning to respect our individual needs and compromise whenever we can. So sometimes the choice to stay home is a necessary one.

But if there’s one thing I would encourage everyone in my life to do, it would be to get outside more and experience this beautiful world that we live in.

Radnor Lake

“It had nothing to do with gear or footwear or the backpacking fads or
philosophies of any particular era or even with getting from point A to
point B. It had to do with how it felt to be in the wild. With
what it was like to walk for miles with no reason other than to witness
the accumulation of trees and meadows, mountains and deserts, streams
and rocks, rivers and grasses, sunrises and sunsets. The experience was
powerful and fundamental. It seemed to me that it had always felt like
this to be a human in the wild, and as long as the wild existed it would
always feel this way.”

Cheryl Strayed “Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail”

The Best Views In GSMNP: Charlies Bunion

December 1, 2015 by Leah 1 Comment

Coming back to real life after vacation is such a drag, like a shoot me, I wish I had some moonshine right now kind of drag. But muddle through we must…until the next vacation…which is on Thursday, thank God, or I would have to find something high to jump off of. We’re heading to Long Island for some soul medicine known as salty air, prescribed by the Almighty as an antidote to the occasional drudgery of daily life. Also, December is depressingly busy. Happy busy (maybe?), but just too much happening. I didn’t even realize it until we got home last night and I opened up my circa 1992 Hallmark, fit-in-your-purse calendar to look at the month and nearly had a heart attack. All those tiny squares fill up so quickly and then people get mad because you have too much going on and have to draw the line at some things.

For the two more days that we’re in town prior to salty air inhalation, I’m thinking about the mountains and trying to remember all the emotions felt while standing on top of the world, looking out at an endless sea of peaks on Charlies Bunion. This outcropping of rock has a weird name because it looks like a bunion on the side of a hill, but the views…THE VIEWS!!

A friend recommended this hike to me because it’s her favorite hike in Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Then, I watched two park volunteers get dewy eyed when talking about the trail and the sights from Charlies Bunion. “You should really do that hike, you have to see the views from there, it’s incredible.” The trail to get to Charlies Bunion starts out at the Newfound Gap parking lot and goes directly along the Appalachian Trail. We’d hiked on the AT the day before and I was convinced it couldn’t get any better, but it does. I’ll add myself to the list of people utterly enchanted by everything having to do with this trail.

We came upon another shelter, the Icewater Spring shelter, which had a lovely view of the mountains. Still sparse, but quite a nice place to spend the night.

Thankfully the pricey trekking poles saved our knees. We got one pair and each had a pole, but I noticed a difference in how my knees felt, as in I could still walk to the bathroom to take some Advil at the end of the day. If I had pulled 18 tendons in my legs, it would have been worth it to see what we saw on Charlies Bunion. We had it to ourselves for a few minutes to just silently take in the breadth of what we were seeing and to climb carefully up onto the rock for a picture without falling to our deaths.

When we finally tore ourselves from the bunion, we headed back along the trail to an offshoot called the jumpoff which included a steep uphill .3 mile climb to a whole different perspective of the mountain sea. In fact, we could see Charlie’s Bunion from where we were and we traversed a mountain like the Von Trapp family, people. Rob couldn’t see the bunion because he’s going blind at 40, but the neon shirts of the people standing on the rock to get pictures where we’d been standing an hour before showed up against the backdrop of leafless trees.

In short, a magical respite from the usual pace of life to an altogether different daily challenge of tackling nature. I hope we can get back there soon to experience even more places in the park, but what a lucky blessing to be able to see what we saw and feel so teeny in the middle of it all.

GSMNP: Hiking 0.025% On The AT

November 28, 2015 by Leah Leave a Comment

You guys, I’m in Gatlinburg, the armpit of Tennessee, also known as the Vegas of the South, also known as the grossest place on earth, also known as the white trash capitol of the world, also known as air-brushed t-shirt heaven…shoot me. The thing is, people actually come here to just spend time in this town. What is wrong with them?! We are staying in this town solely for its proximity to Great Smoky Mountain National Park. We wake up early, eat breakfast before the crowds arrive, and head into nature as fast as we can to avoid all the insane crazy idiots who vacation here. Then we hike, come back into this hell hole of abysmalness to eat dinner, and head to the three distilleries in town that give you free moonshine tastings…which brings me to my current state of drunkenness while writing this blog. Moonshine is awesome, how was this stuff ever illegal?! You sidle up to a sticky counter where a very enthusiastic, pimply youth who doesn’t get enough attention at home yells at you and tells you to drink more free liquor. In fact, we discovered you can get totally drunk for $3 in Gatlinburg, $1 tip for each distillery. Old Smoky Moonshine is gross and way too sweet, don’t go there. The Davy Crockett place is much much better. But the Sugarland distillery takes the cake as far as moonshine goes, but get there before 9 pm or you’ll only get 4 samples, and please, who can get drunk on that? The best thing is that they give you tastings in communion cups!!! Like, the old school plastic cups you drink grape juice out of in church, so you feel like this is some kind of holy sacrament Jesus approves of because everyone in the South is a Christian and loves Jesus, so obviously, moonshine.

Today, was maybe the best day of my life, except for being born and marrying Rob, because I got to hike a teensy tiny, not even worth mentioning how short it was, portion of the Appalachian Trail. In fact I just did the math because I’m a nerd and we hiked 0.025% of the entire trail. Holy cow, I’m a section hiker. Tomorrow we’ll hike another 0.04%, so look out, world. We went up to Clingman’s Dome and walked up that God awful concrete hill till we came to the Appalachian Trail and took an immediate left to head to the Double Spring Gap Shelter, which was 2.7 miles from the Dome. This is probably, most definitely the most beautiful stretch of trail I’ve ever been on, plus it holds the distinction of being the highest point on the AT.

We hiked down to the shelter, which was actually nicer than I was expecting, I mean…primitive, but still nice.

Where thru-hikers get cozy

There are SO many rules when hiking through a national park…

What lonely, depressed hikers read on the trail

Two thru-hikers were just packing up and getting ready to leave, so I got to pepper these nice young, bearded men with questions before they set off on the continuation of their journey. While chewing on a mouthful of Clif Bar I learned that they’ve been on the trail for 5 1/2 months and started in Maine. They are taking illegal amounts of aspirin to deal with the day to day body aches involved with this journey. It was recommended that we quit our jobs and hike this trail and not wait till we’re retired because our bodies will crumble and decay if we do this when we’re old. Apparently there was an older man who was attempting the 100 mile wilderness at the same time they were and ended up quitting, which, duh, that’s like the hardest portion of the entire trail, so I think that guy was just dumb to start out there. They were wearing these cool knee supports they found in a hiker box, which I need to order from Amazon immediately because my knees hate me right now. They also said that going back to normal life is going to be really hard after this, but that if they don’t end up getting jobs that’s ok because there’s always the Pacific Crest Trail and the Continental Divide Trail to tackle. Yes, they plan to aim for the Triple Crown. A few days ago they saw some bears on the trail, but the other night it was only 14 degrees and they were really cold trying to sleep. They packed up and headed on down toward Springer Mountain and became our new heroes.

Want to know what tired day hikers look like on the AT? Like this.

We had to stop several times on the way back up so we didn’t die.

We finished up our snacks, checked out the bear cables at the shelter, and headed back the way we came, which was ALL uphill…no big deal. We climbed and sweated our way back up to Clingman’s Dome and decided to avoid the lookout altogether because it was crawling with people, so we stopped at the information center and talked to these two badass women who were volunteers and have hiked all over these mountains. They were amazing and if I could have taken them out for coffee and some moonshine, I would have. We headed back down the mountain and saw a bear, which I was dying to see, but was thinking there’s no way we could get that lucky, to see TWO bears in one year, but we did. Here is our second black bear this year. We crouched down by the side of the road and we watched him forage for acorns without being scared out of our minds because he wasn’t 6 feet away from us, like in Colorado. This guy was a safe distance and we watched in peaceful awe of the adorableness that is a bear butt. Bear butts are almost as amazing as cat’s paws.

I’m really sore. Rob is really sore. We went to the Nantahla Outdoor Center (NOC) at the end of town on our way back and were nearly talked into buying a pair of nice trekking poles for $100 smackeroos. We declined…then as the night wore on and we drank more moonshine, we felt more and more sore. In fact, my knees and my glutes are so sore, I could die. I hiked up a mountain using my ass, people. We thought about those trekking poles and debated the pros and cons, I’m not kidding, we did, even made a list like adulty people. Finally, we ran to the NOC, arriving 3 minutes before they closed to buy a pair of trekking poles that cost as much as the dress I’m wearing to the GRAMMYs this year.

Tomorrow, we hike to Charlies Bunion, also along the AT, which boasts some of the prettiest views you can see in the park…with trekking poles.

Can You Hear Me Now? Disconnecting Phones, Hiking Stone Door, & Getting Real For A Sec

October 26, 2015 by Leah Leave a Comment

“I really think that being in nature is a basic human need that we have. It gives us perspective because, when you walk into the woods, or walk through the desert or sit by a river, you realize that you’re only one thing in the great order of things….I know for certain that I myself get incredibly bound up in very minor, ridiculous, temporary conundrums. And obviously there’s nothing wrong with that. I think we have to get bound up in those things….But if you only live in that realm, you are missing out on something that’s essential and illuminating.”

Cheryl Strayed in a recent LA Times article discussing her new book Brave Enough

One thing in the great order of things…

I get really frustrated when I sit in front of the TV. I grew up in a home without cable and never had it myself until I got married and it was part of the binding contract that came with my husband. For him, watching TV is a way to unwind after the daily labor of his very physical job. But for me, the more I watch TV, the more I hate it. Don’t get me wrong, I love BBC shows and could sit for days on end engrossed in proper murder mysteries, period dramas, and reruns of QI…but in the end, the TV is a killer of creativity, a way to ignore the world around us, and a silencer of communication with other human beings. If we didn’t have one in our house, I wouldn’t miss it (well, except maybe for movies). In fact, more and more I am noticing the dearth of conversation created by the screens in our home. Our phones get more face time with us than we do with ourselves sometimes. I’ve heard of people setting limits on screen time in their homes and I think it’s wise to be aware of the way technology is changing the way we live and interact with each other. I am a little disgusted with myself over the internal panic that happens when I realize I’ve left my phone at home on a grocery run. There is a false sense of connectedness that comes with a cell phone. The problem is that no matter how much you text someone, if you aren’t having meaningful conversation with that person at some point, you are living in a superficial relationship devoid of actual connection with that individual.

This past weekend, we headed out into nature again in another godforsaken part of TN, and it was a relief to put my phone in airplane mode when we realized we had no service. This, of course, isn’t awesome when you’re trying to get in touch with someone, or need GPS, or have an emergency in the woods…but it is nice to not even have the option of distraction by technology when you’re meant to be appreciating the vastness of the natural world around you. Sitting around a campfire is much more rewarding when you are actually talking to the people you’re with as opposed to distractedly half-listening to them while looking at the latest Facebook posts. There was a sense of reluctant sadness when we finally reached the point of having service and the texts, emails, and notifications started rolling in. I think that lately, being immersed in nature on these weekend jaunts has been a way to reconnect with the neglected parts of myself that have become hidden in daily life, the house work, the job, marriage, the striving that we constantly have to deal with.

Our home away from home

When it’s you, the trees, and the sound of your own footsteps, things occasionally loom into perspective. I enjoy going into the woods alone, but I really love when Rob comes along too because there’s the sense of accomplishing something together, working toward an end goal and making discoveries along the way. This weekend, my body was humbled by the trails at the Stone Door in South Cumberland State Park. We ended up making a 12ish mile loop by taking the Stone Door trail to Big Creek Gulf Trail to Ranger Creek Falls, then on to Greeter Falls, and returning via the Big Creek Rim trail. The gulf trail was peppered with moments of astounding beauty – dry river beds strewn with mossy boulders, waterfalls, brilliant colors that stood out in the damp weather, and ascents that set the heart pounding and the legs on fire.

Entrance to the Stone Door

The Stone Door – a passageway used by the Native Americans

Ranger Creek Falls

Greeter Falls Trail

Upper Greeter Falls

This is probably the most challenging trail we’ve done in terms of inclines, even compared to those in Colorado. The last three miles on the way back, the muscles behind my left knee were in a lot of pain and I’m still not sure what I did to it because I was completely fine the next morning, but seriously, I wanted to sit on a log in the woods and cry for a minute. It also rained for a good two miles, but in spite of the knee pain and ill timed precipitation, I kept looking up through the reds and oranges of fall and feeling so utterly blessed to be tiny ants marching along in the forest.

Pippin, the ranger station cat, leads a life of badassness and feline adventure in the wilds of Tennessee.

Myrle and Maddox enjoy the comforts of our down sleeping bags, preferring that we have the adventures and they have the naps.

A couple of things to note about hiking and camping because my dad accused me of making it all sound so rosy, so I’m going to get real at the end of this blog after you’ve seen all the pretty pictures that make it worth the journey…

Sometimes a trail is really hard and you’re in the middle of it and want to die. Or feel like you’re going to die. Because you’re breathing so heavily on an ascent and then you try to take a drink of water and realize you can’t breathe and drink water at the same time, so you have to make up for that after a sip and you end up sounding like you’re being strangled, but really you’re just trying to not die.
Sometimes you hear a trail is nice and then you go hike it and it’s flat and boring, and you realize you just wasted 6 miles of your life to walk a flat, boring trail with no views.
Sometimes you get blisters or your feet really, really hurt after you’ve walked a lot of miles and you want to throw your hiking shoes over a cliff, like Reese Witherspoon in Wild, but then you realize you need those shoes to finish the 5 miles you have left.
People are smelly. YOU are smelly. After you hike and sweat and sleep in a tent for a few nights and go to the bathroom in the woods for days on end, you smell like a garbage dumpster and look like one too. I take wet wipes and hand sanitizer and a big headband for my gross, frizzy hair, but there’s only so much one can do when a shower isn’t available. This is the reality of the human condition. We are disgusting.
Wildlife can scare you sometimes, whether it be a bear, snake, moose, deer, chipmunk, spider, or leaf you thought was a giant bug. We’ve seen lots of wildlife on our hikes this year. Some of it scared the crap out of us and some of it was totally awesome (or both). Be wise, carry bear spray in appropriate situations, realize you’re on their turf now, and deal with that in the most environmentally friendly way possible.
Injuries can happen, which sucks. The best thing to do is have a first aid kit and to assess the situation with wisdom and smarts. Every root, stump, rock, and slippery leaf poses the risk of a fall, so step carefully. Remember that states like New Hampshire, Colorado, and Utah now have hiker cards you can purchase in case you need to be rescued. These cards will keep you from incurring most of the financially crippling costs that are associated with search and rescue operations.

In my opinion, the benefits of being in nature outweigh these things. There is just too much beauty out there to be chased after, so yeah, it’s rosy in some ways, and totally nasty in other ways…a lot like life.