William Bartram (1739-1823) is considered by many to be America's first naturalist. His illustrious portrait, painted by Charles Wilson Peale, hangs in the portrait gallery in Philadelphia down the street from the Liberty Bell. Interestigly, his father was a good friend of Benjamin Franklin and Bartram even named a plant species after him that is now extinct in the wild.
Bartram travelled along a similar path that Mike and I are following, collecting plant specimines. We noticed a side trail with a yellow blaze along Wayah Bald in NC and promised ourselves that we would look into the meaning of it (any blaze other than white catches our attention b/c that's all we've seen for over 300 miles). Turns out we saw part of the Bartram Trail that extends 90 miles of the total 2000 Bartram travelled through the southern US in search of botanical specimines and Seminoles and Cherokee, many of whom he befriended. The Alachua Seminole Chief, Cowkeeper, named Bartram Puc Puggy "Flower Hunter" - sounds like Bartram and I have something in common. Bartram's poetic writings sum up the landscape better than I could. Here is an excerpt from his Travels that describes the view from Wayah Bald that Mike and I also beheld. Wayah means "the place of the wolf" in CHerokee:
"It was now after noon; I approached a charming vale, amidst sublimely high forests, awful shades! Darkness gathers around, far distant thunder rolls over the trembling hills; the black clouds with august majesty and power, moves slowly forwards, shading regions of towering hills, and threatening all the destructions of a thunderstorm; all around is now still as death, not a whisper is heard, but a total inactivity and silence seems to pervade the earth; the birds afraid to utter a chirrup, and in low tremulous voices take leave of each other, seeking covert and safety; every insect is silenced, and nothing heard but the roaring of the approaching hurricane; the mighty cloud now expands its sable wings, extending from North to South, and is driven irresistibly on by the tumultuous winds, spreading his livid wings around the gloomy concave, armed with terrors of thunder and fiery shafts of lightning; now the lofty forests bend low beneath its fury, their limbs and wavy boughs are tossed about and catch hold of each other; the mountains tremble and seem to reel about, and the ancient hills to be shaken to their foundations: the furious storm sweeps along, smoaking through the vale and over the resounding hills; the face of the earth is obscured by the deluge descending from the firmament, and I am deafened by the din of thunder; the tempestuous scene damps my spirits, and my horse sinks under me at the tremendous peals, as I hasten for the plain.
I began to ascend the Jore Joara (Nantahala now) Mountains, which I at length accomplished, and rested on the most elevated peak; from whence I beheld with rapture and astonishment, a sublimely awful scene of power and magnificence, a world of mountains piled upon mountains. Having contemplated this amazing prospect of grandeur, I descended the pinnacles..."
Unfortunately, Mike and I didn't get to see exactly that view because (according to the Park Service) 70% is obscured by a haze caused by air pollution, Bartram would have been able to see the Smokies but we couldn't even see to the Cheoahs, ten miles away. The great and massive tree giants that Bartram saw will also never be seen by Mike and I - the size of the trees (mostly re-growth from clear cutting) pale in comparison to the old growth forests of Bartrams day. This is an incredible thing to contemplate judging from the size of some of the tulip poplars we've seen.
Lewis and Clark brought along Bartram's Travels to consult during their explorations and I think that I'll buy a copy when I get back into the civilized world I have had the pleasure of escaping for a few months.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Thanks to the folks!
Just a quick note to thank Mike's mom and dad, Mary Ellen and Dick for all they have done for Mike and I this past month. They've shipped us a new mansion tent - unfortunately, Mike's one person tent (although fabulous in it's own right) didn't do the trick. Oh my lands the new mansion tent is fabulous - I go to sleep with a smile every night and Mike can even play his dulcimer in it and draw in his sketchbook as the sun goes down... Also kindly mailed was my old backpack because the new super duper 8000 mega-flex-tron that was supposed to be better busted at the seams and gave me back spasms. Needless to say, the new pack and tent are doing wonders for moral and overal wellness :)
And my own mamma - the new shoes have enabled my toenail blisters to heal and dry incredibly quickly, which is good because this part of the country has gotten more rain in the past month than the past three years combined. I love them!! The bone spur and inflamed bursa (no, it's not a parasitic attachment that sprouted from a tree stump and attached itself to my leg, but it kinda looks like it) have started healing (albeit very slowly - 15 miles a day doesn't do wonders for my stick legs and feet).
Thanks to both of these wonderful women for the delicous and healthy foods they've been shipping to us in our important mail drops. They keep us going every day and we love you for it!!!!!!!!!! Keep them cookies comin'!
Love you guys,
Lisa and Mike
And my own mamma - the new shoes have enabled my toenail blisters to heal and dry incredibly quickly, which is good because this part of the country has gotten more rain in the past month than the past three years combined. I love them!! The bone spur and inflamed bursa (no, it's not a parasitic attachment that sprouted from a tree stump and attached itself to my leg, but it kinda looks like it) have started healing (albeit very slowly - 15 miles a day doesn't do wonders for my stick legs and feet).
Thanks to both of these wonderful women for the delicous and healthy foods they've been shipping to us in our important mail drops. They keep us going every day and we love you for it!!!!!!!!!! Keep them cookies comin'!
Love you guys,
Lisa and Mike
Things that stalk in the night and things that flit in the light
And now, dear readers, now that we've finally arrived at Uncle Johnny's Nolichucky Hostel in Erwin, TN after hiking 338 miles (wahhhoie!), it is time for an accounting of the slimy, hairy and feathered things, beloved of Banjo (formerly known as Cougar) and I. Salamanders are an indicator species, meaning, when ecosystems are deteriorating they are the first to suffer, giving you an idea of the overall health of a forest. The amount of salamanders we've seen has boggled my mind and I wouldn't have noticed half of them if it hadn't been for Mike who has eyes specially engineered for glimpsing the little wigglers in forest streams and springs that flow liberally out of the mountainsides. The slimers even stalk around our tent at night slurping up delicious worms and bugs. They come in the most amazing array of spots, stripes and colors and they have huge bulging eyes and long dragging tails. We take pictures of the creatures we see, if possible, and later ID them with a pocker-guide of reptiles and amphibians of the southern Appalachians. Mike is well versed in the bird-business, but also carries a small field guide to help him with identification.
Here is a species list from Mike:
Birds: The southern highlands hold and receive a diverse array of bird species, sometimes familiar and sometimes unique to the higher elevations of the east. One such group, as I've been finding out, are the Warblers - a family of small song birds who migrate from Central and South America to the United States and Canada, and are found only in the New World. Warblers that we have sighted:
Yellow Rumped Warbler, Hooded Warbler, Yellow Breasted Chat, Chestnut-Sided Warbler, Black and White Warbler, Black-Throated Blue Warbler, Black-Throated Green Warbler
Other bird sightings, from Northern Georgia to Erwin, Tennessee:
Pileated Woodpecker, Red-Bellied Woodpecker, Red-Tailed Hawk, Sharp-Shinned Hawk, Turkey Vulture, Wild Turkey, Ruffed Grouse, Dark-Eyed Junco (known as Snowbirds down here), Blue Jay, Eastern Peewee, Rufuous-Sided Towhee (also known as the Eastern Towhee), White-Breasted Nuthatch, Solitary Vireo, Carolina and Black-Capped Chickadee, Golden-Crowned Kinglet, Scarlet Tanager, Barred Owl, Great Horned Owl (heard only), Eastern Bluebird (only one), Brown Thrasher, Ruby-Throated Hummingbird, Gray Catbird, Northern Mockingbird, Blue Gray Gnatcatcher, Common Bobwhite (heard only), Mourning Dove, American Robin, Northern Cardinal, Belted Kingfisher, Barn Swallow, Bank Swallow, Tree Swallow, American Crow, Common Raven, Common Grackle, Rose-Breasted Grosbeak, Indigo Bunting, American Goldfinch
Salamanders sighted:
Southern Appalachian Salamander
Red-Spotted Newt (immature or Eft phase - an incredibly bright and beautiful guy who the field guide describes as "incredibly bold" - they aren't afraid of nothin!)
Shovel-Nosed Salamander
Santeetlah Dusky Salamander
Blue Ridge Two-Lined Salamander, Spotted Dusky Salamander, Seepage Salamander, Northern Slimy Salamander, Southern Gray-Cheeked Salamander (maybe - not positive on the ID), Blue Ridge Spring Salamander
Snakes sighted (and caught! - by Mike) :
Northern Watersnake
Eastern Garter Snake, Northern Ringneck Snake
Frogs/Toads:
Eastern American Toad (one so huge the earth shook as it hopped)
Fowler's Toad, Eastern Cricket Frog (heard only), Cope's Gray Treefrog (heard only)
Others: Common Five Lined Skink, Eastern Fence Lizard, Broad Headed Skink
Giant Millipede
Furry Beasts: Bears, feral hog, squirrels galore, smelly hikers, chipmunks, deer, fox (heard only -an inhuman wailing). And, of course the mice. We've seen the deer and harvest mouse (both native species). The house mouse (an Asian import) has flourished in the region and has more than flourished in the AT shelters, this is the species that visits our food bags and chews holes in our socks.
One day, a fellow hiker who we shared a shelter with woke up to find his backpack stuffed about 1/4 full of acorns - a squirrel had apparently decided his bag was a fine place to do some food accessioning for the winter. The dude woke up in the morning and yelled at all his buddies "Hey guys - who the hell stuffed all this crap in my bag?!!" All of his friends and us started laughing because no one had done it - it was the squirrel. Finally, the acorn laden hiker accepted his new food as a gift from the forest.
Here is a species list from Mike:
Birds: The southern highlands hold and receive a diverse array of bird species, sometimes familiar and sometimes unique to the higher elevations of the east. One such group, as I've been finding out, are the Warblers - a family of small song birds who migrate from Central and South America to the United States and Canada, and are found only in the New World. Warblers that we have sighted:
Yellow Rumped Warbler, Hooded Warbler, Yellow Breasted Chat, Chestnut-Sided Warbler, Black and White Warbler, Black-Throated Blue Warbler, Black-Throated Green Warbler
Other bird sightings, from Northern Georgia to Erwin, Tennessee:
Pileated Woodpecker, Red-Bellied Woodpecker, Red-Tailed Hawk, Sharp-Shinned Hawk, Turkey Vulture, Wild Turkey, Ruffed Grouse, Dark-Eyed Junco (known as Snowbirds down here), Blue Jay, Eastern Peewee, Rufuous-Sided Towhee (also known as the Eastern Towhee), White-Breasted Nuthatch, Solitary Vireo, Carolina and Black-Capped Chickadee, Golden-Crowned Kinglet, Scarlet Tanager, Barred Owl, Great Horned Owl (heard only), Eastern Bluebird (only one), Brown Thrasher, Ruby-Throated Hummingbird, Gray Catbird, Northern Mockingbird, Blue Gray Gnatcatcher, Common Bobwhite (heard only), Mourning Dove, American Robin, Northern Cardinal, Belted Kingfisher, Barn Swallow, Bank Swallow, Tree Swallow, American Crow, Common Raven, Common Grackle, Rose-Breasted Grosbeak, Indigo Bunting, American Goldfinch
Salamanders sighted:
Southern Appalachian Salamander
Red-Spotted Newt (immature or Eft phase - an incredibly bright and beautiful guy who the field guide describes as "incredibly bold" - they aren't afraid of nothin!)
Shovel-Nosed Salamander
Santeetlah Dusky Salamander
Blue Ridge Two-Lined Salamander, Spotted Dusky Salamander, Seepage Salamander, Northern Slimy Salamander, Southern Gray-Cheeked Salamander (maybe - not positive on the ID), Blue Ridge Spring Salamander
Snakes sighted (and caught! - by Mike) :
Northern Watersnake
Eastern Garter Snake, Northern Ringneck Snake
Frogs/Toads:
Eastern American Toad (one so huge the earth shook as it hopped)
Fowler's Toad, Eastern Cricket Frog (heard only), Cope's Gray Treefrog (heard only)
Others: Common Five Lined Skink, Eastern Fence Lizard, Broad Headed Skink
Giant Millipede
Furry Beasts: Bears, feral hog, squirrels galore, smelly hikers, chipmunks, deer, fox (heard only -an inhuman wailing). And, of course the mice. We've seen the deer and harvest mouse (both native species). The house mouse (an Asian import) has flourished in the region and has more than flourished in the AT shelters, this is the species that visits our food bags and chews holes in our socks.
One day, a fellow hiker who we shared a shelter with woke up to find his backpack stuffed about 1/4 full of acorns - a squirrel had apparently decided his bag was a fine place to do some food accessioning for the winter. The dude woke up in the morning and yelled at all his buddies "Hey guys - who the hell stuffed all this crap in my bag?!!" All of his friends and us started laughing because no one had done it - it was the squirrel. Finally, the acorn laden hiker accepted his new food as a gift from the forest.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Smokies gave us EVERYTHING
The awesome power of the Smoky Mountains was unleashed upon Mike and I day after day during our five night, six day trek across the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. Apparently, Old Man Smoky decided he would give two skinny, bedraggled hikers ALL the best and worst his mountains had to give - probably chose us becuase he was impressed with Mike's beard which has reached epic and lustrous proportions. Even the old timers in the small Appalachian towns we stop in give him nods of appreciation.
It must first be mentioned, however, before embarking on the tale of the Smokies that Warbler has been given a new name to befit the incredible strength and prowess he has shown upon this trek. His new name is COUGAR, given to him by our fellowship of Padre, Jeff (the most hilarious man on earth) and Melski. Unfortunately, I am now referred to as "Tater", short for small potato (instead of Ramps) more befitting of my small size in comparison to the mountain men I travel with. I'm sure our trail names will morph with the terrain, but as of now we're Cougar and Tater.
Before we got to GSMNP, we had to walk over Fontana Dam, the highest dam in the eastern US.
Now on to the Smokies... The great adventure is best begun with an eloquent excerpt from Mike's journal:
"Like silent brushes of a drum, the mists, the fog, the tumultuous waves of mountain wind - they are like apparitions that filter through the laurel, somewhere between the past and what lies ahead out of view. And as ghosts of man or beast, the obscured shapes that flutter behind and in the fog cry and whisper out, immeasurably, the mournful and sublime soul of the mountains."
This fog that Mike speaks of follows us, sometimes for days. It's a marker of the beginning and end of the harsh, torrential, freezing spring rains that we have endured at all times of day and at all elevations. One particular storm two days ago gave me a nasty head cold that makes hiking from sun up to sun down thousands of vertical feet most unpleasant. When the fog breaks, however, the views are so gorgeous and breataking, we stare for minutes, not talking, to take the view into our minds and souls.
The fog is most dream-like when the bleached bones of the conifers peer out against the gray, thick fog that is sometimes so dense, you can't see but a few feet in front of you. A sad, but very evident death of large swaths of conifers in the Appalachians is due to the hemlock wooly adelgid, a North American intruder that rode in on timber shipped across the sea from Asia. The small insect devours the sap and fluids of the hemlock trees and leaves behind little cotton-swab looking deposits on the trees it attacks - all of the once magestic and ancient hemlock trees that we see are either dead or have the tell-tale signs of the adelgid all over them. Park rangers say it was probably introduced into the eastern US in the 1950's and the damage it's done since then is incredible; whole mountain sides lay bear of hemlocks due to this infestation. The drought that has plagued this region for the past couple years (trust me - it's not troubling anyone this year) has caused fungus to grow on the trees which makes them even more susceptible to the adelgid.
Despite the wars that this great forest must fight on all fronts every day, it is still one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Mike and I saw a vast array of all things green, furry, scaley, slithery and feathered. We also saw (dad - close mom's eyes for this) five black bears. Three up close and personal from the confines of Russel Field Shelter that was gated in order to protect the inhabitants from the bears. When dinner was being made by the six or so people who were staying there a large mother bear and her two older cubs came ambling out of the woods to sit down and share our meal. They slowly circled the group and all the humans immediately put down their food. Did we run? OH NOOOooo. We immediately picked up our cameras and snapped as many photos as possible which didn't discourage the bears in the least. They kept approaching and one even bluff-charged Mike, who bravely stood his ground and was the only member of the group to do what is supposed to be done in such circumstances - he yelled and threw rocks to shoo the bears away. Unfortunately, this group of bears had been doing this for quite some time - this would be their last. A ranger and an intern (a 21 year old girl who was about 4 feet tall and weighed about 80 pounds - not the type you'd expect to handle bears) spent the night in the shelter with us. Their goal was to tranquilize the bear from the shelter while the bear was wandering around the perimiter so that she would associate the negative experience with the shelter in-particular. The bear would then be re-located in an attempt to stop her from coming to parties she wasn't invited to. The cubs would be caught and re-located with their mother. Although the bears did pace the shelter, about 5 feet in front of us for a couple hours that evening, we didn't get to see the ranger tranquilize the bear. We did hear down the AT grapevine that he did it a few hours after we left in the morning and it was a success. Another younger male also made a visit, but wasn't considered a 'problem bear' and so was ignored by the ranger. Upon descending from Cosby Nob Shelter, the day before we left the Smokies, we saw another bear drinking from a mountain stream just off the trail - this one skeedadled up the mountain side faster than you could blink. I also think I saw the rump of a feral hog that day - actually, I'm sure of it.
Mike and I made a small detour into Gatlinburg to get sleep that we hadn't had in 3 days (as you can imagine, lack of sleep is as dangerous as lack of gear and food). This sleeplessness was due to a symphony of snores and air exchanges, passed through every human orifice possessed by old male hikers who shared the shelters with us (yes, we have since purchased ear plugs). Gatlinburg had more fast food and Ripley's Believe it or Not venues than we imagined possible. We got there by hitch-hiking from Newfound Gap, first with a nice couple who spoke only of their love of panda bears and the Biltmore Estate - they couldn't decide which they loved more, and back to the gap with a large family packed into the front of a big pick-up that was so much fun to sit in the back of and ride to the top of the mountain, wind in our hair and waterfalls around every turn. Mike sums up the Gatlinburg experience well in his journal:
"Gatlinburg represented the greasiest, most excessively novel and fried vulgarities of rural America's tourism industry, and as such, found its way into the most guilty pleasures of every southerner's artery-clogged heart. For us, there was a sense of shock and awe, but we found ourselves playing along to at least one of Gatlinsburg's offerings, the sought after treasure of travelers entering civilization - beer."
I wanted to get an apple in Gatlinburg so I asked a woman working at Subway. This is how the conversation went:
"Excuse me ma'am, where can I buy an apple in this town?"
"Darlin, you c'aint buy no apple in Gatlinburg. The nearest place is a grocery stoare 'bout seven maaailes by trolley."
"Um, there's no place in this whole town I can buy a piece of fruit?"
"Well, dang...um - LEEEROY, you know whare this here lady can buy an apple?"
Leroy - "No."
"Ok, thanks anyway ma'am."
"Well, darlin, ya mightn' try the candy store. I know they sell them candy apples, you mightn' get one not candied?"
"Oh, yeah, I'll check - thanks."
So, I was able to procure an apple at the candy store for $0.54 that had not yet been fried, candied, or goobered in any way. We decided to leave the all-you can eat buffet and country shows for our next visit. We were AT hikers and the trail was a'callin, despite our swollen feet, tired eyes and weary bones. Come to find out it was a good thing we rested the night in Gatlinburg - upon meeting up with our friends here in Hot Springs, NC (After 271 miles and our first 20-mile day - yeeeaaahh!!) they had to run full speed over a mountain summit the day we left them because of an intense lighting storm that they did NOT even laugh about for an instant - they said they all feared for their lives, threw down their poles and cowered for some time until the storm let up...
Mike and I are staying in an old Victorian home that holds many tales of Appalachian lore, myth and music (and magic). Technically, what we are staying in is a farmhouse built in 1840 that was combined with another house on the property built just a few years after the Civil War. It has gone in and out as a retreat location, eventially going in and out of ownership but eventually maintaining itself as an inn for travelers - many visiting the healthful natural hot springs in town. Once it was owned by Jane Gentry, a noted musician and folklorist from the end of the 19th century. One of the travellers that came through was the infamous British folklorist Cecil Sharpe. He was coming through the region to compile songs for a book entitled, English Ballads of the Southern Mountains. He stayed at the inn and Ms. Gentry contributed 64 songs to Sharpe's collection and was later herself recorded for the Library of Congress folk archives. The inn nods back to its musical history with a music room well equipped for travelers - Mike has taken full advantage of a banjo he's fallen in love with that sits on a velvet cushioned chair in the room. He plans on recording himself on it tonight after the vegetarian feast that will be prepared for us and our hiking friends at the inn, now known as Elmer's Sunny Bank Inn - not bad for $20 a night! Mike and I also spent some of the day helping Elmer himself re-paint the finials of the house that had been built in the 1840's while we talked about Appalachian music...we're thinking about staying and working for him for a day to get a free night's stay and learn about the history of the town - haven't decided about this yet.
Miss everyone and we're thinking about all of you all the time! Grandma - I'll be calling you in Erwin, TN, the next town we come to about 5 days from now- I've been thinking about you, especially since the sky is so often your favorite color of soft bluish grey.
LOVE
COUGAR AND TATER
It must first be mentioned, however, before embarking on the tale of the Smokies that Warbler has been given a new name to befit the incredible strength and prowess he has shown upon this trek. His new name is COUGAR, given to him by our fellowship of Padre, Jeff (the most hilarious man on earth) and Melski. Unfortunately, I am now referred to as "Tater", short for small potato (instead of Ramps) more befitting of my small size in comparison to the mountain men I travel with. I'm sure our trail names will morph with the terrain, but as of now we're Cougar and Tater.
Before we got to GSMNP, we had to walk over Fontana Dam, the highest dam in the eastern US.
Now on to the Smokies... The great adventure is best begun with an eloquent excerpt from Mike's journal:
"Like silent brushes of a drum, the mists, the fog, the tumultuous waves of mountain wind - they are like apparitions that filter through the laurel, somewhere between the past and what lies ahead out of view. And as ghosts of man or beast, the obscured shapes that flutter behind and in the fog cry and whisper out, immeasurably, the mournful and sublime soul of the mountains."
This fog that Mike speaks of follows us, sometimes for days. It's a marker of the beginning and end of the harsh, torrential, freezing spring rains that we have endured at all times of day and at all elevations. One particular storm two days ago gave me a nasty head cold that makes hiking from sun up to sun down thousands of vertical feet most unpleasant. When the fog breaks, however, the views are so gorgeous and breataking, we stare for minutes, not talking, to take the view into our minds and souls.
The fog is most dream-like when the bleached bones of the conifers peer out against the gray, thick fog that is sometimes so dense, you can't see but a few feet in front of you. A sad, but very evident death of large swaths of conifers in the Appalachians is due to the hemlock wooly adelgid, a North American intruder that rode in on timber shipped across the sea from Asia. The small insect devours the sap and fluids of the hemlock trees and leaves behind little cotton-swab looking deposits on the trees it attacks - all of the once magestic and ancient hemlock trees that we see are either dead or have the tell-tale signs of the adelgid all over them. Park rangers say it was probably introduced into the eastern US in the 1950's and the damage it's done since then is incredible; whole mountain sides lay bear of hemlocks due to this infestation. The drought that has plagued this region for the past couple years (trust me - it's not troubling anyone this year) has caused fungus to grow on the trees which makes them even more susceptible to the adelgid.
Despite the wars that this great forest must fight on all fronts every day, it is still one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. Mike and I saw a vast array of all things green, furry, scaley, slithery and feathered. We also saw (dad - close mom's eyes for this) five black bears. Three up close and personal from the confines of Russel Field Shelter that was gated in order to protect the inhabitants from the bears. When dinner was being made by the six or so people who were staying there a large mother bear and her two older cubs came ambling out of the woods to sit down and share our meal. They slowly circled the group and all the humans immediately put down their food. Did we run? OH NOOOooo. We immediately picked up our cameras and snapped as many photos as possible which didn't discourage the bears in the least. They kept approaching and one even bluff-charged Mike, who bravely stood his ground and was the only member of the group to do what is supposed to be done in such circumstances - he yelled and threw rocks to shoo the bears away. Unfortunately, this group of bears had been doing this for quite some time - this would be their last. A ranger and an intern (a 21 year old girl who was about 4 feet tall and weighed about 80 pounds - not the type you'd expect to handle bears) spent the night in the shelter with us. Their goal was to tranquilize the bear from the shelter while the bear was wandering around the perimiter so that she would associate the negative experience with the shelter in-particular. The bear would then be re-located in an attempt to stop her from coming to parties she wasn't invited to. The cubs would be caught and re-located with their mother. Although the bears did pace the shelter, about 5 feet in front of us for a couple hours that evening, we didn't get to see the ranger tranquilize the bear. We did hear down the AT grapevine that he did it a few hours after we left in the morning and it was a success. Another younger male also made a visit, but wasn't considered a 'problem bear' and so was ignored by the ranger. Upon descending from Cosby Nob Shelter, the day before we left the Smokies, we saw another bear drinking from a mountain stream just off the trail - this one skeedadled up the mountain side faster than you could blink. I also think I saw the rump of a feral hog that day - actually, I'm sure of it.
Mike and I made a small detour into Gatlinburg to get sleep that we hadn't had in 3 days (as you can imagine, lack of sleep is as dangerous as lack of gear and food). This sleeplessness was due to a symphony of snores and air exchanges, passed through every human orifice possessed by old male hikers who shared the shelters with us (yes, we have since purchased ear plugs). Gatlinburg had more fast food and Ripley's Believe it or Not venues than we imagined possible. We got there by hitch-hiking from Newfound Gap, first with a nice couple who spoke only of their love of panda bears and the Biltmore Estate - they couldn't decide which they loved more, and back to the gap with a large family packed into the front of a big pick-up that was so much fun to sit in the back of and ride to the top of the mountain, wind in our hair and waterfalls around every turn. Mike sums up the Gatlinburg experience well in his journal:
"Gatlinburg represented the greasiest, most excessively novel and fried vulgarities of rural America's tourism industry, and as such, found its way into the most guilty pleasures of every southerner's artery-clogged heart. For us, there was a sense of shock and awe, but we found ourselves playing along to at least one of Gatlinsburg's offerings, the sought after treasure of travelers entering civilization - beer."
I wanted to get an apple in Gatlinburg so I asked a woman working at Subway. This is how the conversation went:
"Excuse me ma'am, where can I buy an apple in this town?"
"Darlin, you c'aint buy no apple in Gatlinburg. The nearest place is a grocery stoare 'bout seven maaailes by trolley."
"Um, there's no place in this whole town I can buy a piece of fruit?"
"Well, dang...um - LEEEROY, you know whare this here lady can buy an apple?"
Leroy - "No."
"Ok, thanks anyway ma'am."
"Well, darlin, ya mightn' try the candy store. I know they sell them candy apples, you mightn' get one not candied?"
"Oh, yeah, I'll check - thanks."
So, I was able to procure an apple at the candy store for $0.54 that had not yet been fried, candied, or goobered in any way. We decided to leave the all-you can eat buffet and country shows for our next visit. We were AT hikers and the trail was a'callin, despite our swollen feet, tired eyes and weary bones. Come to find out it was a good thing we rested the night in Gatlinburg - upon meeting up with our friends here in Hot Springs, NC (After 271 miles and our first 20-mile day - yeeeaaahh!!) they had to run full speed over a mountain summit the day we left them because of an intense lighting storm that they did NOT even laugh about for an instant - they said they all feared for their lives, threw down their poles and cowered for some time until the storm let up...
Mike and I are staying in an old Victorian home that holds many tales of Appalachian lore, myth and music (and magic). Technically, what we are staying in is a farmhouse built in 1840 that was combined with another house on the property built just a few years after the Civil War. It has gone in and out as a retreat location, eventially going in and out of ownership but eventually maintaining itself as an inn for travelers - many visiting the healthful natural hot springs in town. Once it was owned by Jane Gentry, a noted musician and folklorist from the end of the 19th century. One of the travellers that came through was the infamous British folklorist Cecil Sharpe. He was coming through the region to compile songs for a book entitled, English Ballads of the Southern Mountains. He stayed at the inn and Ms. Gentry contributed 64 songs to Sharpe's collection and was later herself recorded for the Library of Congress folk archives. The inn nods back to its musical history with a music room well equipped for travelers - Mike has taken full advantage of a banjo he's fallen in love with that sits on a velvet cushioned chair in the room. He plans on recording himself on it tonight after the vegetarian feast that will be prepared for us and our hiking friends at the inn, now known as Elmer's Sunny Bank Inn - not bad for $20 a night! Mike and I also spent some of the day helping Elmer himself re-paint the finials of the house that had been built in the 1840's while we talked about Appalachian music...we're thinking about staying and working for him for a day to get a free night's stay and learn about the history of the town - haven't decided about this yet.
Miss everyone and we're thinking about all of you all the time! Grandma - I'll be calling you in Erwin, TN, the next town we come to about 5 days from now- I've been thinking about you, especially since the sky is so often your favorite color of soft bluish grey.
LOVE
COUGAR AND TATER
Monday, May 11, 2009
Characters in the Appalachian Play
ALthough me and Mike's favorite beings on this trail are not human, we have encountered many a variety of interesting hominid. Here is an accounting of our interactions with two of these hairy mammals:
Trail Name: Crawl
First Name: David
We met this man at Plum Orchard Gap shelter, GA. Mike describes him best as a 'bumbling character destined to be an AT folk icon'. The reason we know so much about him is because he didn't stop speaking (*or snoring)the whole time we were blessed with his company. I'm not sure how he manages to breathe and talk so much at the same time. At least his stories are quite interesting... Crawl is a retired truck driver and looks every bit the part. At 290 pounds, with a pack that weighs at least as much as me - full of food, even though his goal is to loose 60 pounds and walk to Maine. The only catch is, that he walks about 5 miles a day due to a 'bum leg' - he literally walks with two canes and at a hobble (think 5000 feet of wet Appalachian mountain - every day). He has three kids, one of which is getting married in June, he's 18 and his wife-to-be (17) wants 7 kids - I choked when I heard this, which is bad because i had to spit out my food and ALL food out here is more precious than gold. He recently found Jesus and quit trucking, he's been married three times and recently returned from Ukraine where he traveled for a week to go on bowling dates with brides to be. Unfortunately, as badly as those women want to leave Ukraine, and despite Crawl's awesome bowling abilities that made him the talk of the village, none of them wanted to leave badly enough to live with Crawl. Everyone we've met has run into him and remembers him best for his ear splitting snores that crack the night - due to sleep apnea. He warns everyone that strays to the shelter "I'm a snorer (chuckle), mighta wanna sleep in yer tent'. You have to give the guy props for his determination, though. Mike and I have recently decided that a constellation should be dedicated to this man - perhaps a semi truck, the headlights gleaming and glinting in the moonlight. This wish is due to the musings of us and everyone else that has met Crawl along the trail. Every night we all mention something like, "I wonder where Crawl has gotten to today???"
Trail Name: Croc
Real name: David (MIke and I call him Padre Dave)
Croc immediately jumped into step with us one day, explaining how lonely he was and how his feet had hurt so badly for the first week of his journey in GA, he wore only Crocs on the trail until he got new shoes - hence the trail name. Here is an excerpt from Mike's journal that explains the encounter:
" R A I N... again. It rolled back in with the fog a little before noon, but never escalated beyond a steady rainfall. Shortly before summiting Albert Mountain, we saw a local man with a truck full of hounds - dogs that were intended to scour the hills and frighten bears away from people-frequented sites. But this truck held something else, a man, and not just a man, but a hiker, and not just a hiking man, but a hiking minister. His name is David (Croc) and we joined paths for a brief moment before becoming separated in the mountain laurel of Albert. But it would not be the last we saw of the minister from the northeast...."
We've ended up sharing many a night in a shelter with Padre, and, of course, his newfound hiking buddy Mel who's trail name is Melski because he's a great skiier. Padre is in his 50's and Mel is in his 60's - both are in incredible shape and plow along the trail like no one's business. Padre always talks about how good a can of smoked oysters, a shot of scotch and a cigar would be at night. Most of all though, he LOVES to hear Mike play his dulcimer and always nudges me after dinner nodding at Mike's instrument, gives me a knowing look, and says "Work on him, will you - I'd love to hear his music again tonight." He has two son's - both working for noble causes and he wants Mike and I to stop by his church in Vermont (United Church of Christ) and meet his family who he obviously misses dearly. He's hiking the trail in order to get a fresh mind-set and decide whether or not to stay with the congregation he loves. Apparenty UCC ministers change churches every 7 years or so and he's been with his for much longer than that and can't decide whether it's best for his congregation for him to stay or impart his gifts upon another group of god-fearing Vermontiners (Vermontites)?. Another quest that the Padre is embarking on is MUCH more difficult... He's determined to see the Ivory Billed Woodpecker, or as it's called in Appalachian-talk, 'The Lord God Bird'. Mike says it's called so because when it was observed in flight, it's head was crowned in a red circle and the pattern of its feather pattern made a white cross from head too tail. Padre always says, anyone seen the Lord God (pause) bird today?" And, of course, we chuckle. No one's seen the ivory billed (at least confirmed sighting) for over 60 years and it's thought by most to be extinct except for a few random "maybe" sightings in Georgian swamps, but by darn it, if anyone is going to catch a glimpse it will be Padre.
More soon...Mike and I are exhausted and will wake up bright and early to traverse Great Smoky Mountain National Park... 5 nights and 6 days of a forest renowned for the greatest amount of diversity of plant and animal life in the Southern Appalachians. The parks 75th anniversary is this year - maybe some bears will share a glass of champagne with us. Some 1,500 bears live in the park, even elk are said to reside here. I'm most excited about the 1,660 species of flowering plant and Mike will be searching for mole salamanders and interesting reptiles galore. He caught an Eastern Ring Necked snake yesterday and pondered a salamander for over 20 minutes, smiling for hours after we left the little guy under a rock in a stream. Then, he painted a picture from his head of the little guy - it's a beautiful study - It's been a special treat to watch Mike paint throughout this trip...
Be in touch with y'all again soon. - Laura MISS you and been thinking bout' you today - how is the Squish/Tula??? Save some painting and weeding for me in Martha's house!
Love Lisa and Mike (Ramps and Warblers)
Trail Name: Crawl
First Name: David
We met this man at Plum Orchard Gap shelter, GA. Mike describes him best as a 'bumbling character destined to be an AT folk icon'. The reason we know so much about him is because he didn't stop speaking (*or snoring)the whole time we were blessed with his company. I'm not sure how he manages to breathe and talk so much at the same time. At least his stories are quite interesting... Crawl is a retired truck driver and looks every bit the part. At 290 pounds, with a pack that weighs at least as much as me - full of food, even though his goal is to loose 60 pounds and walk to Maine. The only catch is, that he walks about 5 miles a day due to a 'bum leg' - he literally walks with two canes and at a hobble (think 5000 feet of wet Appalachian mountain - every day). He has three kids, one of which is getting married in June, he's 18 and his wife-to-be (17) wants 7 kids - I choked when I heard this, which is bad because i had to spit out my food and ALL food out here is more precious than gold. He recently found Jesus and quit trucking, he's been married three times and recently returned from Ukraine where he traveled for a week to go on bowling dates with brides to be. Unfortunately, as badly as those women want to leave Ukraine, and despite Crawl's awesome bowling abilities that made him the talk of the village, none of them wanted to leave badly enough to live with Crawl. Everyone we've met has run into him and remembers him best for his ear splitting snores that crack the night - due to sleep apnea. He warns everyone that strays to the shelter "I'm a snorer (chuckle), mighta wanna sleep in yer tent'. You have to give the guy props for his determination, though. Mike and I have recently decided that a constellation should be dedicated to this man - perhaps a semi truck, the headlights gleaming and glinting in the moonlight. This wish is due to the musings of us and everyone else that has met Crawl along the trail. Every night we all mention something like, "I wonder where Crawl has gotten to today???"
Trail Name: Croc
Real name: David (MIke and I call him Padre Dave)
Croc immediately jumped into step with us one day, explaining how lonely he was and how his feet had hurt so badly for the first week of his journey in GA, he wore only Crocs on the trail until he got new shoes - hence the trail name. Here is an excerpt from Mike's journal that explains the encounter:
" R A I N... again. It rolled back in with the fog a little before noon, but never escalated beyond a steady rainfall. Shortly before summiting Albert Mountain, we saw a local man with a truck full of hounds - dogs that were intended to scour the hills and frighten bears away from people-frequented sites. But this truck held something else, a man, and not just a man, but a hiker, and not just a hiking man, but a hiking minister. His name is David (Croc) and we joined paths for a brief moment before becoming separated in the mountain laurel of Albert. But it would not be the last we saw of the minister from the northeast...."
We've ended up sharing many a night in a shelter with Padre, and, of course, his newfound hiking buddy Mel who's trail name is Melski because he's a great skiier. Padre is in his 50's and Mel is in his 60's - both are in incredible shape and plow along the trail like no one's business. Padre always talks about how good a can of smoked oysters, a shot of scotch and a cigar would be at night. Most of all though, he LOVES to hear Mike play his dulcimer and always nudges me after dinner nodding at Mike's instrument, gives me a knowing look, and says "Work on him, will you - I'd love to hear his music again tonight." He has two son's - both working for noble causes and he wants Mike and I to stop by his church in Vermont (United Church of Christ) and meet his family who he obviously misses dearly. He's hiking the trail in order to get a fresh mind-set and decide whether or not to stay with the congregation he loves. Apparenty UCC ministers change churches every 7 years or so and he's been with his for much longer than that and can't decide whether it's best for his congregation for him to stay or impart his gifts upon another group of god-fearing Vermontiners (Vermontites)?. Another quest that the Padre is embarking on is MUCH more difficult... He's determined to see the Ivory Billed Woodpecker, or as it's called in Appalachian-talk, 'The Lord God Bird'. Mike says it's called so because when it was observed in flight, it's head was crowned in a red circle and the pattern of its feather pattern made a white cross from head too tail. Padre always says, anyone seen the Lord God (pause) bird today?" And, of course, we chuckle. No one's seen the ivory billed (at least confirmed sighting) for over 60 years and it's thought by most to be extinct except for a few random "maybe" sightings in Georgian swamps, but by darn it, if anyone is going to catch a glimpse it will be Padre.
More soon...Mike and I are exhausted and will wake up bright and early to traverse Great Smoky Mountain National Park... 5 nights and 6 days of a forest renowned for the greatest amount of diversity of plant and animal life in the Southern Appalachians. The parks 75th anniversary is this year - maybe some bears will share a glass of champagne with us. Some 1,500 bears live in the park, even elk are said to reside here. I'm most excited about the 1,660 species of flowering plant and Mike will be searching for mole salamanders and interesting reptiles galore. He caught an Eastern Ring Necked snake yesterday and pondered a salamander for over 20 minutes, smiling for hours after we left the little guy under a rock in a stream. Then, he painted a picture from his head of the little guy - it's a beautiful study - It's been a special treat to watch Mike paint throughout this trip...
Be in touch with y'all again soon. - Laura MISS you and been thinking bout' you today - how is the Squish/Tula??? Save some painting and weeding for me in Martha's house!
Love Lisa and Mike (Ramps and Warblers)
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Over 100 miles and DRENCHED - but DETERMINED!!
The one immutable force out here in the Appalachians that never evades the hiker is TIME. It lays heavy on these mountains. Eroded, carved, etched, scraped, and decomposed elements of every portion of rock, root, sky and spirit stare you in the face as you walk every day. If it's not how fast you can high-tail it to the next shelter before the skies open upon you and make your boots slosh for days, it's the geology. Unlike the pervading youth of the Rockies where the mountain spines grow straight and strong, the ancient bones of the Appalachians are bent and burdened with age. The mountains here are playful and light at times with bird song and the play of light amidst the mountain laurel, but in an instant they pour out huge, angry bursts of rain and wind. Mike and I have been at the mercy of these grandmother mountains, the oldest moutain chain in the world (maybe the Urals are a tie), for the past four days. Holed up in a one man tent, shaking too and fro like a ship on the ocean, we have weathered torrents of moutain storms that don't promise to let up for weeks. A hell for us (not to mention an inseperable part of the quest!), but a heaven for those who call these mountains their home. An unforgiving drought has been plaguing the southern Appalachains for three years and the rain has been bringing smiles to the faces of the town folk (although the bedraggled hikers have a different face to show). Life is coming back to these hills in the form of bright green sprouts, Spring, wildflowers in every color and crops that are doing better than they have in years, not to mention the reservoirs that are filling back up from dangerously low levels. All that AND all the hidden creatures of the undergrowth and detritous that creep up to the surface during times of drenching. Think salamanders galore (much to Mikes happiness), snails crawling on every rock, millipedes the size of your hand, jack-in-the-pulpit coming out to preach and the very wet, sometimes frustrated, sometimes smiling faces of Mike and Lisa peering into the fairy mists that follow the life-giving, Spring calling, hiker wearying rains.
I'm writing this from the little 'hiker-hotel' Ron Haven's Budget Hotel in Franlin, NC. We visited a Civil War Museum today (after ICE CREAM - raspberry cobbler flavored) that advertised reinactments of Southern Surrender due to the War of Northern Aggression. The museum started with the Cherokee people's habitation of the area with LOTS of collected arrow heads - in fact the site of Franklin was the ancestral capital of the Cherokee people. The Nantahala State Forest, where Mike and I will be hiking (5,000 feet above sea level), means "the land of the afternoon sun" in Cherokee because it takes until noon for the sun's rays to penetrate the deep forest floor and extend to the mountain streams that feed and nourish the valleys of the Nantahala. The valley's have recently been layed seige to by hordes of feral hogs - groups of which have spread from domesticated hogs raised by yeoman farmers when they came to settle Appalachia from places like Scotland (we visited a Scottish Tartan Museum today - NO McGraths - we looked Maura - butt it's Irish then in'it Lassie?) and England. The hogs are HUGE and are regularly killed by bowmen for sport - there are postings on trail heads that advise hikers to wear orange b/c hunting is allowed in all wilderness areas along the trail. The evidence of the hogs is VERY obvious - whole swaths of forest floor are dug up, ripped, and uprooted by little snout and hoof prints. This is even more obvious in the clear cut areas where the forest has re-grown but only with one type of tree (poplar seems to do well in clear cut conditions) that grows but all others are conspicuously absent or filled with cankers and cancers that are obvious signs of forest sickness even to the non-biologist.
North Carolina's forests have been noticably healthier than Georgia's (although there is a reverse correlation with their shelters - yech). The following is a list of all the flowers that I've seen, common and Latin name included. Mike's awesome and talented friend Charlie will soon recieve a CD of all the pictures we've taken so he can use his photo-skills to post them to this blog - picts should be evident in a week or so (THANKS CHARLIE!!). For those who are pseudo-plant freaks like me, just google the name and you'll see a pic of the beauts that Mike and I have - or just wait for the picts (none of the computers we've been on so far have let us download images...). PS - Sue - in a 'Gem and Mineral Museum' there was a whole back room with a case of pre-Columbian artifacts - one Wari piece (not display worthy but I thought of you looking at your whipped frosting deserts of Peru).
Appalachian Flowers - the complete list (so far and in no particular order of incredibleness):
1. Toadshade (Trillium sessile) - Lily Family
2. Turkeybeard (Xerophyllum asphodeloides) - Lily Family
3. Squaw Root (Conopholis americana) - Broomrape Family
4. Large-Flowered Trillium (Trillium grandiflorum) - Lily Family
5. Flame Azalea (Rhododendron calendulaceum) - Heath Family
6. Cutleaf Toothwort (Cardemine concatenata) - Mustard Family
7. Crested Dwarf Iris (Iris cristata) - Iris Family
8. Common Blue Violet (Viola sororia) - Violet Family
9. Bluets (Houstonia caerulea) - Madder Family
10. Star Chickweed (Stellaria pubera) - Carnation Family
11. May Apple (Podophyllum peltatum) - Barberry Family
12. Catesby's Trillium (Trillium catesbaei) - Lily Family
13. Nodding Trillium (Trillium cernum) - Lily Family
14. Common Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) - Rose Family
15. Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) - Aster Family
16. Mountain Laurel (Kalmia latifolia) - Heath Family
17. Hobblebush/Moosewood (Viburnum lantanoides) - Honeysuckle Family
18. Pink Lady's Slipper/Pink Moccasin Flower - biggest Orchid in N/A - yeah! (Cypripedium acaule) - Orchid Family
19. Plantainleaf Pussytoes (Antennaria plantaginifolia) - Aster Family
20. Golden Ragwort (Senecio aureus) - Aster Family
21. Trout Lily/Dogtooth Violet (Erythronium americanum) - Lily Family
22. Smooth Solomon's Seal (Plygonatum biflorum) - Lily Family
23. Painted Trillum (Trillum undulatum) - Lily Family
24. Dwarf Ginseng (Panax trifolius) - Birthwort Family
25. Jack-in-the Pulpit/Indian Turnip (Arisaema triphyllum) - Arum Family
Birds coming soon.... PS - most of the flowers are edible in some sense (mom - don't worry, i'm not doing the eating).
Also, Mike has recently been given a trail name, so decided by a special congregation of Appalachian gods, called for the grand purpose... his NAME is WARBLER!! Perfect, I'd say. He's always looking up for the myriad colorful feathers that flit around us and I'm always looking down for a unique flower or, of course as my trail name implies, RAMPS. RAMPS and WARBLERS it is from now on! Mike likes to call it a spin off of the Nintendo game Wizards and Warriors.
List of unusual and interesting people to come too - soooo many - will take another hour to compile and once more - another person needs to use this technology besides me.
Goodbye and wish us sun!!
Love,
lisa
I'm writing this from the little 'hiker-hotel' Ron Haven's Budget Hotel in Franlin, NC. We visited a Civil War Museum today (after ICE CREAM - raspberry cobbler flavored) that advertised reinactments of Southern Surrender due to the War of Northern Aggression. The museum started with the Cherokee people's habitation of the area with LOTS of collected arrow heads - in fact the site of Franklin was the ancestral capital of the Cherokee people. The Nantahala State Forest, where Mike and I will be hiking (5,000 feet above sea level), means "the land of the afternoon sun" in Cherokee because it takes until noon for the sun's rays to penetrate the deep forest floor and extend to the mountain streams that feed and nourish the valleys of the Nantahala. The valley's have recently been layed seige to by hordes of feral hogs - groups of which have spread from domesticated hogs raised by yeoman farmers when they came to settle Appalachia from places like Scotland (we visited a Scottish Tartan Museum today - NO McGraths - we looked Maura - butt it's Irish then in'it Lassie?) and England. The hogs are HUGE and are regularly killed by bowmen for sport - there are postings on trail heads that advise hikers to wear orange b/c hunting is allowed in all wilderness areas along the trail. The evidence of the hogs is VERY obvious - whole swaths of forest floor are dug up, ripped, and uprooted by little snout and hoof prints. This is even more obvious in the clear cut areas where the forest has re-grown but only with one type of tree (poplar seems to do well in clear cut conditions) that grows but all others are conspicuously absent or filled with cankers and cancers that are obvious signs of forest sickness even to the non-biologist.
North Carolina's forests have been noticably healthier than Georgia's (although there is a reverse correlation with their shelters - yech). The following is a list of all the flowers that I've seen, common and Latin name included. Mike's awesome and talented friend Charlie will soon recieve a CD of all the pictures we've taken so he can use his photo-skills to post them to this blog - picts should be evident in a week or so (THANKS CHARLIE!!). For those who are pseudo-plant freaks like me, just google the name and you'll see a pic of the beauts that Mike and I have - or just wait for the picts (none of the computers we've been on so far have let us download images...). PS - Sue - in a 'Gem and Mineral Museum' there was a whole back room with a case of pre-Columbian artifacts - one Wari piece (not display worthy but I thought of you looking at your whipped frosting deserts of Peru).
Appalachian Flowers - the complete list (so far and in no particular order of incredibleness):
1. Toadshade (Trillium sessile) - Lily Family
2. Turkeybeard (Xerophyllum asphodeloides) - Lily Family
3. Squaw Root (Conopholis americana) - Broomrape Family
4. Large-Flowered Trillium (Trillium grandiflorum) - Lily Family
5. Flame Azalea (Rhododendron calendulaceum) - Heath Family
6. Cutleaf Toothwort (Cardemine concatenata) - Mustard Family
7. Crested Dwarf Iris (Iris cristata) - Iris Family
8. Common Blue Violet (Viola sororia) - Violet Family
9. Bluets (Houstonia caerulea) - Madder Family
10. Star Chickweed (Stellaria pubera) - Carnation Family
11. May Apple (Podophyllum peltatum) - Barberry Family
12. Catesby's Trillium (Trillium catesbaei) - Lily Family
13. Nodding Trillium (Trillium cernum) - Lily Family
14. Common Strawberry (Fragaria virginiana) - Rose Family
15. Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) - Aster Family
16. Mountain Laurel (Kalmia latifolia) - Heath Family
17. Hobblebush/Moosewood (Viburnum lantanoides) - Honeysuckle Family
18. Pink Lady's Slipper/Pink Moccasin Flower - biggest Orchid in N/A - yeah! (Cypripedium acaule) - Orchid Family
19. Plantainleaf Pussytoes (Antennaria plantaginifolia) - Aster Family
20. Golden Ragwort (Senecio aureus) - Aster Family
21. Trout Lily/Dogtooth Violet (Erythronium americanum) - Lily Family
22. Smooth Solomon's Seal (Plygonatum biflorum) - Lily Family
23. Painted Trillum (Trillum undulatum) - Lily Family
24. Dwarf Ginseng (Panax trifolius) - Birthwort Family
25. Jack-in-the Pulpit/Indian Turnip (Arisaema triphyllum) - Arum Family
Birds coming soon.... PS - most of the flowers are edible in some sense (mom - don't worry, i'm not doing the eating).
Also, Mike has recently been given a trail name, so decided by a special congregation of Appalachian gods, called for the grand purpose... his NAME is WARBLER!! Perfect, I'd say. He's always looking up for the myriad colorful feathers that flit around us and I'm always looking down for a unique flower or, of course as my trail name implies, RAMPS. RAMPS and WARBLERS it is from now on! Mike likes to call it a spin off of the Nintendo game Wizards and Warriors.
List of unusual and interesting people to come too - soooo many - will take another hour to compile and once more - another person needs to use this technology besides me.
Goodbye and wish us sun!!
Love,
lisa
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