An ode to William Bartram

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.