It is with a belly full of Ben and Jerry's Mint-Cookie icecream, half a large supreme pizza, some lemonade, Sprite and a few chunks of beef jerky that I write you this blog entry. This conglomeration of food may seem repulsive to some, but to the hiker it is a fat/calorie packed, uncomfortably delightful mixture that will fuel our drained energy reserves and prepare us for 16+ mile-days of hiking where we will burn an average of 4-5,000 calories - 2x a normal day. And, because I'm eating like this, it will also clue you in to the fact that Mike and I are back on the trail - 'SoBo' - or southbound in AT terminology. Mike's parents dropped us off in Blue Ridge Summit, PA five days ago (thanks again for the ride, delicious apples and even more delicious dinners Mary Ellen and Dick!). We can now check off Georgia, NC/TN, Maryland and West Virginia off our lists.
We're now in Virginia, Bear's Den Rocks Hostel to be exact. This place is very cool, built right out of the surrounding rocks and originally run as a summer home for wealthy folks who paid high dollar to stay here and take in the view of the Virginia countryside while hanging out in the petting zoo on site and listening to the wife of the owner sing Wagner operas (apparently she did this while hiking, too - probably would scare away all the wildlife - I wouldn't hike with the lady). Now it's run by a young couple (thru-hikers 2x) and their little girl (Hikling) who runs around laughing and playing while we talk, eat, shower and eat more.
Harpers Ferry was a great history lesson for us nerdy lore buffs. We learned all about John Brown and how the Civil War 'began' in this little town that sits above the intersection of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers - it's a hell of a climb out of it though - especially in a hail storm (ouch).
Thomas Jefferson said of the view from his favorite rock adjacent to Harpers Ferry that, "The passage of the Patowmac through the Blue Ridge is perhaps one of the most stupendous scenes in Nature. You stand on a very high point of land. On your right comes up the Shenandoah, having ranged along the foot of the mountain a hundred miles to seek a vent. On your left approaches the Patowmac in quest of a passage also. In the moment of their junction they rush together against the mountain, rend it asunder and pass off to the sea. The first glance of this scene hurries our senses into the opinion that this earth has been created in time, that the mountains were formed first, that the rivers began to flow afterwards, that in this place particularly they have been so dammed up by the Blue Ridge of mountains as to have formed an ocean which filled the whole valley; that, continuing to rise, they have at last broken over at this spot and have torn the mountain down from its summit to its base. The piles of rock on each hand, but particularly on the Shenandoah, the evident marks of their disruptions and avulsions from their beds by the most powerful agents in nature, corroborate the impression."
I think the view of the pizza for dinner was better, but... Mike and I also got our pictures taken at the Appalachian Trail Conference Headquarters (the mothership of the AT) as 'eventual thru-hikers' and Mike talked with the folks working there about the artwork he's been creating of the wonders we've seen along 'the trail' - good networking :)
So, now Mike has more paintings and drawings in his sketchbook and I have more pictures of wildflowers (all of which I will be reading about tonight - medicinal uses and biology) and handstands on rocks. We have all that and the incredible gift of being able to put our feet on the sublime (and soggy) gardens of the earth for three more weeks.
Special shout-out to my dad. Can't wait to hang out with you on Lopez and thanks for driving up to see Mike and I after work - it meant alot and it was so good to see you. Thanks also for the support (on the trail and in 'real life'). Soak up some sun for me in Puerto Rico. Laura - so glad you're coming to Lopez!
Mary Ellen and Anne - Buon viaggio and enjoy your awesome trip to Italia!
Shenandoah here we come!!!
Lisa signing out
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Saturday, June 6, 2009
AT Fire Towers
Here are some views from fire towers along the AT, once used for (you guessed it) look outs for forest fires and beat poets. Because Kerouac and Ginsberg no longer walk the earth and because of airplanes, the fire towers are no longer used, but lucky hikers can still climb up their rickety metal stairs and gaze out at the heart stopping views.
Flip Flop, Sort Of
Like many explorers and adventurers, Mike and I have decided to alter our course in order to accommodate an illness, the Appalachian God of Rain (*I shall not name him for fear of his wrath), and a dwindling monetary situation. I will first let Mike, the unhappy receiver of a happy colony of bacteria, describe the situation from his own skinny perspective:
"Twenty pounds lighter and later, my curse lifted, and finally some sunshine - my body had to leave the trail and now will return. Of the former, I somehow managed to consume contaminated water, likely in town where we weren't purifying our sources, and became ill in the mountains after walking up Unaka Mountain in hypothermic conditions. We managed to conclude the night in a warm tent, but I became afflicted with violent fevers. We walked eight miles the following morning with my fever worsening and vertigo setting in. We boarded in at the Mountain Harbor Hostel in Tennessee where for three days I sweated out the fever. Then, the bug unexpectedly shifted to my gut, and I became preoccupied with getting to know my insides for days. Test results are still awaiting a name for this beast (or possibly THE BEAST?), but after a week without appetite or sleep (from my busy meetings), and not knowing whether or not a relapse of the bug would occur, we had to leave the trail, having walked 400 miles of the Southern Appalachians to Virginia's back door.
BUT.......Now - having eaten lots of food, regaining my sleep and strength, we are heading back out, though not where we left our journey. The new goal is to meet our departure point, beginning by walking Maryland, West Virginia, and on south through Virginia's Shenandoah National Forest. Yes, dear friends, we will be a-walking, walking with a ferocity that can only be found in the hearts of scalywags, thieves, storytelling murder-creeping pirates, and..... hikers. Because now, and I will enjoy writing this with a smirk, it is personal."
Sums it up nicely I think - thank you Mr. Marks. Now we gain the perspective of the "south-bounder" and we can check off two of the most beautiful National Parks the south eastern US has to offer. This flip-flop was unexpected but necessary and we will be back on the trail tomorrow morning. I'm excited to learn more from the earth and to emphasize this point I will leave you with a quote from the Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff, a book I read while Mike was languishing in the hostel watching shoot em' up movies between bathroom breaks:
"Lots of people talk to animals," said Pooh.
"Maybe, but..."
"Not very many LISTEN, though," he said.
"That's the problem," he added."
Now, back to listening and it's time for you guys to do some looking - HERE YA GO!
Sunset after the rain on the Nolichucky River.
The tree of knowledge.
Mike passed out and sick as a dog at Iron Mountain Gap before a shuttle picked us up.
Big Bald - aka gateway to Scotland.
Soft and beautiful evening light after the rain.
Mountain Laurel gracing the trail before the descent into Erwin, TN.
"Twenty pounds lighter and later, my curse lifted, and finally some sunshine - my body had to leave the trail and now will return. Of the former, I somehow managed to consume contaminated water, likely in town where we weren't purifying our sources, and became ill in the mountains after walking up Unaka Mountain in hypothermic conditions. We managed to conclude the night in a warm tent, but I became afflicted with violent fevers. We walked eight miles the following morning with my fever worsening and vertigo setting in. We boarded in at the Mountain Harbor Hostel in Tennessee where for three days I sweated out the fever. Then, the bug unexpectedly shifted to my gut, and I became preoccupied with getting to know my insides for days. Test results are still awaiting a name for this beast (or possibly THE BEAST?), but after a week without appetite or sleep (from my busy meetings), and not knowing whether or not a relapse of the bug would occur, we had to leave the trail, having walked 400 miles of the Southern Appalachians to Virginia's back door.
BUT.......Now - having eaten lots of food, regaining my sleep and strength, we are heading back out, though not where we left our journey. The new goal is to meet our departure point, beginning by walking Maryland, West Virginia, and on south through Virginia's Shenandoah National Forest. Yes, dear friends, we will be a-walking, walking with a ferocity that can only be found in the hearts of scalywags, thieves, storytelling murder-creeping pirates, and..... hikers. Because now, and I will enjoy writing this with a smirk, it is personal."
Sums it up nicely I think - thank you Mr. Marks. Now we gain the perspective of the "south-bounder" and we can check off two of the most beautiful National Parks the south eastern US has to offer. This flip-flop was unexpected but necessary and we will be back on the trail tomorrow morning. I'm excited to learn more from the earth and to emphasize this point I will leave you with a quote from the Tao of Pooh by Benjamin Hoff, a book I read while Mike was languishing in the hostel watching shoot em' up movies between bathroom breaks:
"Lots of people talk to animals," said Pooh.
"Maybe, but..."
"Not very many LISTEN, though," he said.
"That's the problem," he added."
Now, back to listening and it's time for you guys to do some looking - HERE YA GO!
Sunset after the rain on the Nolichucky River.
The tree of knowledge.
Mike passed out and sick as a dog at Iron Mountain Gap before a shuttle picked us up.
Big Bald - aka gateway to Scotland.
Soft and beautiful evening light after the rain.
Mountain Laurel gracing the trail before the descent into Erwin, TN.
Friday, June 5, 2009
PICTS UP!
We've got pictures up now. I've updated past entries with pictures (see the Smokies and the 'Things that crawl...' entries) and added some new ones. The new title image is from Max Patch.
Max Patch: Bald and Beautiful
Some pictures from Max Patch, a bald that spans the NC/TN border along the AT and gives the lucky traveller a 360 degree view of all the mountains in the universe (at least it seems like it). The pictures pretty much say it all. The mountain is a naturally occurring bald, scientifically unexplainable for the absence of trees - today it is kept clear of trees by mechanical mowing, however. We heard Bob White Quail and Banjo Music up here. During sunset and sunrise no one spoke because the experience took the words out of our mouths. We spent the night up here, enduring 40 mph winds and temperatures in the mid-30's. OF COURSE it was worth it!
Thursday, May 28, 2009
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.
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.
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
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Over 50 miles and still counting!!
HIIIII EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Mike and I are sitting in the little tiny Hiawassee, Georgia library in the children's section, updating our blog so you can see what we have seen on our quest for Pennsylvania.
We made it to River Forks Campgrounds on April 24th. It was an interesting place. The Army Corps of Engineers flooded a huge valley in Gainesville to create a water reservoir - the campsite was overlooking the man made lake. After talking with Mr. Suites, the ranger/caretaker and his wife, we discovered that the ACE flooded the valley with churches, farmsteads and even a race track which are now all under water. A man (extremely racist) we met told us that his "diddy" - southern talk for "daddy" used to row food out to the ACE workers when he was young and he tells stories of church steeples sticking out of the lake. The beaches are also dark red and look something like you would imagine from mars. Apparently, Congress just approved a project that will pump (according to Mr. Suites - this sounded incredible to Mike and I) billions of gallons of water a day to Florida and Atlanta. Why? To use for the fish and muscle farms in Florida and for drinking water for the city of Atlanta. They don't have a stopping point either, so the lake will be pumped until it's dry. The floating docks were already grounded when we were there. The dogwoods were incredibly beautiful though and we got a taxi to ship us to Springer early in the morning.
Day 1: 17 miles Springer to "Devil's Kitchen" campground that runs through Justus Creek
Mike and I could spend hours making up stories to go along with those names. We were astonished that we were capable of so many miles, but also decided that we would NOT repeat so long a distance. If you are travelling so quickly and determinedly that you don't have time to appreciate everythind the forest has to offer, then it isn't worth it. We met the only through hiker we've seen so far during the whole trip. Graig (Poseidon), an ex-Navy dude, older 30's. He had a very kind face and heart to match.
Day 2: 13 miles from Devils Kitchen to Woods Hole Shelter
Whew! The blisters on my feet are so huge and gross even Frankenstein would puke. My thighs are giving out and I have a sunburn - but my oh my, the Chatahoochie National Forest is heaven on earth and we get to walk the expanse of it to take in every Mountain Laurel, violet, trillium, False Helioborus, iris, warbler, vireo, hawk, owl, turkey, bear and poplar the forest has to offer. We've already started talking about what we can mail home from our packs. I brought too many t-shirts. It's easier and efficient to pack two, wear one and wash another in a mountain stream (with vegetable-based soap, of course - Dr. Bronner's has turned out to be indespensable) then let it dry off your pack while you walk. Weather has been high of 80 and low of 50 at night. It's incredible to hear the breeze at night when you are camping high in the mountains. The howl starts low in the valley then works its way slowly up the mountains until it streams over the tent in a gush.
Day 3: 10 miles Woods Hole Shelter to Whitley Gap Shepter
Climbed Blood Mountain today - highest peak in Georgia at 4,470 feet. Met some 19-20 year old guys who were hilarious and made comments about which mountain peak might be Mordor in the distance. I swear you can see to the Gray Havens anyhow - Middle Earth talk. Mike painted some beautiful watercolors on top and I did handstands for the yoga gods on tall rocks. Mike was able to record some warblers. There seem to be so many species of them and they are all so small and beautiful with trilling songs that last all day - we are surrounded by a symphony of forest sounds all day and night. It's the night sounds that we have to get used to. Although we haven't seen any bears (and neither had anyone else we've talked to), bear warnings were in effect for a 6 mile portion of our walk today through which no camping was allowed. It's easy to see why though, especially near gaps (where a road - either forest service road or highway cuts through the trail) trash is prevalent. It baffles me how anyone could throw their Cheeto bag away in heaven... Mike and I spent this night wide awake and shaking in our tents. Forest night noises take a lot of time to get used to and animals ALWAYS come by the tent to sniff - they have every night. Sometimes you can tell they are big, sometimes it's just little mice. The shelters are infested with them - they crawl all over you. Normally I would think this was fun but if you are desperately trying to fall asleep, it's hard to do it with mice sniffing around your hair. Mike and I will opt for the tent, thank you very much. We also had a Barred Owl visit us this night (Tehnyat - weird coincidence - they've been following us, I think!). Their wings are designed for soundless flight but it was flying so low around our tent that we could hear the leaves whoosh up under the huge wings that were flapping just inches above the ground so it's talons could scoop up mice - it sounded so strange and incredible to hear, all night, the flight of an owl above and around your head mixed with the valley winds and creaking of the trees...
Day 4: 12 miles Whitley Gap Shelter to Blue Mountain Shelter
We have basically run out of food. I've never been so hungry, tired, and sore but seeing how my muscles are growing, lungs are getting stronger, determination is becoming more hardened and my fear of the unknown is evaporating. I know they are called Power Bars, but I've never experienced their true powers. After hiking 10 miles, almost all up a rocky mountain path and you have only eated a little Cream of Wheat for breakfast and some instant potatoes for lunch, I almost passed out on the trail. I became light headed and woozie so Mike stopped and handed me a Power Bar, our last, but I needed something to keep going. After I ate it (an apricot Cliff Bar) I was albe to walk another two miles, super speed, while laughing and joking and taking pictures of waterfalls. My body responds so much more quickly and efficiently to food, water, sleep and companionship on this trail than ever. We met a bunch of people tonight at the shelter: Cool Breeze (knows the guy who hiked the AT with his cat - 37 confirmed shelter-mice kills in one night), Tiger Lilly, Ink (tatoo artist), Mayday, Llama Legs (long hairy legs), and some other people without trail names. Mike gave me a trail name today: RAMPS. Ramps are the famous North American onion/leek that are celebrated in festivals throughout the Appalachians and Candada. I've been obsessed with finding them to the point of jumping on all fours and digging up the roots of leek-looking plants to sniff them to see if they taste yummy. I talk about adding them to our potatoes all the time. So far, no Ramps, but the False Helioborus tricks me every time. The onion is so popular in Canada, it's been banned to pick. Mike still doesn't have a name...it's coming though!@
Day 5: Blue Mountain Shelter to Hiawassee via Unicoi Gap
More to come - I'm getting kicked off the computer!!!
Love you all - pictures won't download here - they will come soon though!!!!!!
lisa
Mike and I are sitting in the little tiny Hiawassee, Georgia library in the children's section, updating our blog so you can see what we have seen on our quest for Pennsylvania.
We made it to River Forks Campgrounds on April 24th. It was an interesting place. The Army Corps of Engineers flooded a huge valley in Gainesville to create a water reservoir - the campsite was overlooking the man made lake. After talking with Mr. Suites, the ranger/caretaker and his wife, we discovered that the ACE flooded the valley with churches, farmsteads and even a race track which are now all under water. A man (extremely racist) we met told us that his "diddy" - southern talk for "daddy" used to row food out to the ACE workers when he was young and he tells stories of church steeples sticking out of the lake. The beaches are also dark red and look something like you would imagine from mars. Apparently, Congress just approved a project that will pump (according to Mr. Suites - this sounded incredible to Mike and I) billions of gallons of water a day to Florida and Atlanta. Why? To use for the fish and muscle farms in Florida and for drinking water for the city of Atlanta. They don't have a stopping point either, so the lake will be pumped until it's dry. The floating docks were already grounded when we were there. The dogwoods were incredibly beautiful though and we got a taxi to ship us to Springer early in the morning.
Day 1: 17 miles Springer to "Devil's Kitchen" campground that runs through Justus Creek
Mike and I could spend hours making up stories to go along with those names. We were astonished that we were capable of so many miles, but also decided that we would NOT repeat so long a distance. If you are travelling so quickly and determinedly that you don't have time to appreciate everythind the forest has to offer, then it isn't worth it. We met the only through hiker we've seen so far during the whole trip. Graig (Poseidon), an ex-Navy dude, older 30's. He had a very kind face and heart to match.
Day 2: 13 miles from Devils Kitchen to Woods Hole Shelter
Whew! The blisters on my feet are so huge and gross even Frankenstein would puke. My thighs are giving out and I have a sunburn - but my oh my, the Chatahoochie National Forest is heaven on earth and we get to walk the expanse of it to take in every Mountain Laurel, violet, trillium, False Helioborus, iris, warbler, vireo, hawk, owl, turkey, bear and poplar the forest has to offer. We've already started talking about what we can mail home from our packs. I brought too many t-shirts. It's easier and efficient to pack two, wear one and wash another in a mountain stream (with vegetable-based soap, of course - Dr. Bronner's has turned out to be indespensable) then let it dry off your pack while you walk. Weather has been high of 80 and low of 50 at night. It's incredible to hear the breeze at night when you are camping high in the mountains. The howl starts low in the valley then works its way slowly up the mountains until it streams over the tent in a gush.
Day 3: 10 miles Woods Hole Shelter to Whitley Gap Shepter
Climbed Blood Mountain today - highest peak in Georgia at 4,470 feet. Met some 19-20 year old guys who were hilarious and made comments about which mountain peak might be Mordor in the distance. I swear you can see to the Gray Havens anyhow - Middle Earth talk. Mike painted some beautiful watercolors on top and I did handstands for the yoga gods on tall rocks. Mike was able to record some warblers. There seem to be so many species of them and they are all so small and beautiful with trilling songs that last all day - we are surrounded by a symphony of forest sounds all day and night. It's the night sounds that we have to get used to. Although we haven't seen any bears (and neither had anyone else we've talked to), bear warnings were in effect for a 6 mile portion of our walk today through which no camping was allowed. It's easy to see why though, especially near gaps (where a road - either forest service road or highway cuts through the trail) trash is prevalent. It baffles me how anyone could throw their Cheeto bag away in heaven... Mike and I spent this night wide awake and shaking in our tents. Forest night noises take a lot of time to get used to and animals ALWAYS come by the tent to sniff - they have every night. Sometimes you can tell they are big, sometimes it's just little mice. The shelters are infested with them - they crawl all over you. Normally I would think this was fun but if you are desperately trying to fall asleep, it's hard to do it with mice sniffing around your hair. Mike and I will opt for the tent, thank you very much. We also had a Barred Owl visit us this night (Tehnyat - weird coincidence - they've been following us, I think!). Their wings are designed for soundless flight but it was flying so low around our tent that we could hear the leaves whoosh up under the huge wings that were flapping just inches above the ground so it's talons could scoop up mice - it sounded so strange and incredible to hear, all night, the flight of an owl above and around your head mixed with the valley winds and creaking of the trees...
Day 4: 12 miles Whitley Gap Shelter to Blue Mountain Shelter
We have basically run out of food. I've never been so hungry, tired, and sore but seeing how my muscles are growing, lungs are getting stronger, determination is becoming more hardened and my fear of the unknown is evaporating. I know they are called Power Bars, but I've never experienced their true powers. After hiking 10 miles, almost all up a rocky mountain path and you have only eated a little Cream of Wheat for breakfast and some instant potatoes for lunch, I almost passed out on the trail. I became light headed and woozie so Mike stopped and handed me a Power Bar, our last, but I needed something to keep going. After I ate it (an apricot Cliff Bar) I was albe to walk another two miles, super speed, while laughing and joking and taking pictures of waterfalls. My body responds so much more quickly and efficiently to food, water, sleep and companionship on this trail than ever. We met a bunch of people tonight at the shelter: Cool Breeze (knows the guy who hiked the AT with his cat - 37 confirmed shelter-mice kills in one night), Tiger Lilly, Ink (tatoo artist), Mayday, Llama Legs (long hairy legs), and some other people without trail names. Mike gave me a trail name today: RAMPS. Ramps are the famous North American onion/leek that are celebrated in festivals throughout the Appalachians and Candada. I've been obsessed with finding them to the point of jumping on all fours and digging up the roots of leek-looking plants to sniff them to see if they taste yummy. I talk about adding them to our potatoes all the time. So far, no Ramps, but the False Helioborus tricks me every time. The onion is so popular in Canada, it's been banned to pick. Mike still doesn't have a name...it's coming though!@
Day 5: Blue Mountain Shelter to Hiawassee via Unicoi Gap
More to come - I'm getting kicked off the computer!!!
Love you all - pictures won't download here - they will come soon though!!!!!!
lisa
Thursday, April 23, 2009
THANK YOU AND GOODBYE
Now that you all have my blog address, I want to take this opportunity to thank and re-thank everyone, CMA co-workers, family, and others (Maura, Bridget, Maria, Craig, Brooke, Chris, etc.) who were so generous and amazingly supportive of me and Mike's endeavor to take on this huge distance of forest, hill, mountain, glade, and town via the strength of body, mind and soul. I love you all and your support has helped us more than any of you can know. Like I've said before, the real trailhead was in Cleveland, Ohio...
Much love to you all and we'll be thinking of you all every step of the way.
Lisa and Mike (trail names to come...). My dad suggested Cereal Killer for me and Mike is thinking of "The Great Aurobindo" but we'll probably go with something else...
Mail Drops
Mike and I are fortunate enough to have great mom's who will send us 'mail drops' along our path so that we can be sure to have enough of the appropriate supplies to nourish our muscles to work well enough to escape from bears and bobcats.
Here is an example of a most energizing food, beloved of hikers everywhere:
The following is a list of locations that they will send the packages to, as well as daily supply of food in each and the date we anticipate picking them up (averaging a 10-15 mile a day schedule). Post offices don't accept Fed Ex or UPS, only USPS. All packages will read 'Hold for AT Hiker' and the date we expect to pick up the package. If the package contains a fuel canister, it must read 'ORM-D, Consumer Commodity' or 'Surface Mail Only' or both. Our mom's will have to mail parcels about a week and a half in advance of our arrival. They'll ship food enough for two, in its original packaging and when we get the package, we'll re-house most of the food in plastic bags to make it lighter and easier to smash into our packs. This list is considering a mid-point destination for the hike. Pending everything we'll consider hiking to Katahdin and this list will grow.
Here is the mail drop we picked up in Fontana Village. We spread it all out on the ground and then divide the food up into days to determine how much we need and how much we can carry. There are 'hiker boxes' at every hostel and hotel along the trail. If people have too much food they can lighten the load by putting it in the hiker box and can be assured that a hiker in need will pick it up along the way. Almost everyone experiences both situations along the trail - having too much food or too little.
Here is a link with a good list of mail drop sites and food amounts. We are not planning on living entirely off drops, so we're not sticking to a comprehensive list like this, but it's a nice way to see the possibilites:
http://www.hike-usa.com/a-mail.htm
Here is an example of a most energizing food, beloved of hikers everywhere:
The following is a list of locations that they will send the packages to, as well as daily supply of food in each and the date we anticipate picking them up (averaging a 10-15 mile a day schedule). Post offices don't accept Fed Ex or UPS, only USPS. All packages will read 'Hold for AT Hiker' and the date we expect to pick up the package. If the package contains a fuel canister, it must read 'ORM-D, Consumer Commodity' or 'Surface Mail Only' or both. Our mom's will have to mail parcels about a week and a half in advance of our arrival. They'll ship food enough for two, in its original packaging and when we get the package, we'll re-house most of the food in plastic bags to make it lighter and easier to smash into our packs. This list is considering a mid-point destination for the hike. Pending everything we'll consider hiking to Katahdin and this list will grow.
Blueberry Patch Hostel, Hiawassee, GA
7 day supply, pickup May 2
- We found out that Blueberry Patch was closing the day after we arrived in Hiawassee, so we stayed at the Hiawassee Inn and the owners of the Blueberry Patch were kind enough to drop off our package to us on the way to church
We resupply in Nantahala Outdoor Center for 7 day supply around May 9
Fontana Village Resort (we won't be staying at the resort itself, unfortunately), Fontana Dam, NC
3 day supply, pickup May 12Here is the mail drop we picked up in Fontana Village. We spread it all out on the ground and then divide the food up into days to determine how much we need and how much we can carry. There are 'hiker boxes' at every hostel and hotel along the trail. If people have too much food they can lighten the load by putting it in the hiker box and can be assured that a hiker in need will pick it up along the way. Almost everyone experiences both situations along the trail - having too much food or too little.
Mountain Mama's Kuntry Store and Bunkhouse, Newport, TN
4 day food supply, pickup May 16
We found out that Mountain Mama's had closed, so we stayed at a nearby hostel called Standing Bear that was VERY fun. Luckily the Newport P.O. had been getting enough hiker mail to know to drop off the packages at Standing Bear that were addressed to Standing Bear.
Hotsprings, NC Post Office
9 day food supply, pickup May 19
Uncle Johnny's Nolichucky Hostel, Erwin, TN
7 day food supply, pickup May 26
Here is a link with a good list of mail drop sites and food amounts. We are not planning on living entirely off drops, so we're not sticking to a comprehensive list like this, but it's a nice way to see the possibilites:
http://www.hike-usa.com/a-mail.htm
Getting to Springer
Mike and I have rented a car, Hertz economy size, to pickup in Rockville, MD today, Thursday, April 23. We will drive down to Gainesville, GA, leaving tomorrow morning around 5am in order to get there (10 hour drive) before 6pm so we don't have to pay for an extra rental day. Hertz will drop us off, free of charge, 2 miles away at at River Forks Park campground. We'll pay $15 for a site, pitch tent, play banjo and recite lines from the RYME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER, go to sleep, and then wake up bright and early to be picked up by UNITAXI, which offers services to the Springer Mtn. trailhead for $65. We hope to be on the trailhead before noon on April 25th.
Tent set up in River Forks Campground
Tent set up in River Forks Campground
Distance from Rockville to Gainesville: about 10 hours
Distance from Gainesville to Springer Mountain: about 1 hour
There are many other ways to get to the trailhead, including flying to Atlanta, spending the night and then taking a bus to Gainesville and then a UNITAXI to the trailhead. Or, we could drive to Dahlonega, GA, stay at a hiker hostel and get a taxi to the trailhead from there. Our way, as far as we could figure, was the cheapest and easiest.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
GPS - Where in the world is...
Follow this link to find us via our hand-held GPS unit:
http://share.findmespot.com/shared/gogl.jsp?glId=0xcF6fDRt1WuSEb0rJlLhVL1JVMXmuarR
We'll be checking in every morning!
Friday, April 17, 2009
The AT Conservancy
The Mission of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy:
The Appalachian Trail Conservancy is a volunteer-based organization dedicated to the preservation and management of the natural, scenic, historic, and cultural resources associated with the Appalachian National Scenic Trail in order to provide primitive outdoor-recreation and educational opportunities for Trail visitors.
Their website: http://www.appalachiantrail.org/site/c.mqLTIYOwGlF/b.4805859/k.BFA3/Home.htm
Check this site for trail updates, an interactive trail map, trail history, AT merchandise, conservation updates, state by state trail details, staff blogs, ways to volunteer, job listings, etc. It was a great place for Mike and I to get started acquainting ourselves with what will be our new home for a time.
The Appalachian Trail Conservancy is a volunteer-based organization dedicated to the preservation and management of the natural, scenic, historic, and cultural resources associated with the Appalachian National Scenic Trail in order to provide primitive outdoor-recreation and educational opportunities for Trail visitors.
Their website: http://www.appalachiantrail.org/site/c.mqLTIYOwGlF/b.4805859/k.BFA3/Home.htm
Check this site for trail updates, an interactive trail map, trail history, AT merchandise, conservation updates, state by state trail details, staff blogs, ways to volunteer, job listings, etc. It was a great place for Mike and I to get started acquainting ourselves with what will be our new home for a time.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Why
I was lost in an old car assembly plant that was the new home of young artists with skinny jeans. The hallways were long and there were many studio spaces decked out with everything from illustrations of vampires to clothes sewn together with trash picked out of dumpsters. Interesting stuff, but none of it was of the stock created by the particular skinny artist I was searching out. We weren't actually 'going steady' yet so I was a bit nervous to impose upon his art domain, but I was also excited. After wandering around looking for his studio without much success, I finally heard lilting banjo music emitting from a distant studio space; a dead give away. I followed the old time music and discovered a small square covered in birds, trees, boxes, books, paintbrushes, a dodo bird head sculpture, a crocodile and a Mike. Yup, this was exactly what I expected - the natural world reconstructed in an old car assembly plant. Before interrupting Mike who was busy hunched over a goauche piece, scratching his head with one hand and pulling up his tight (art-guy) pants up with the other I noticed a large poster hung up directly in front of his drawing desk. The poster was of 'The Great Eastern Trail' that stretched from Springer Mt., GA to Mt. Katahdin, ME, or vice versa whichever way you want to look at it. "Howdy", I said, startling Mike out of his meticulous drawing of a king salmon. "Hey!" Mike said, eyes lighting up, smile stretching from Georgia to Maine - mine might have been farther, maybe to Labrador. "I'm going to hike that trail someday," I said, matter of factly. "Oh man, me too." Mike said with excitement, I've already hiked parts of it, but doing the whole thing would be incredible." "We should do it someday," I said, "Together." "That would be awesome," Mike said.
That was more than two years ago. I had never stated out loud my desire to hike the AT and actually suprised myself by saying it and knowing that I meant it. It's hard for me to express the reasons for wanting to hike the trail, I always feel that when people ask "why?" I choose an answer that the person asking would most understand and I usually end up with faces showing confusion, concern, or a conspirational wink. I could start broad and spiritual and say I'm looking for an inner quiet, the stillness within that many great cultures believe is the piece of you that continues through the ages while your different bodies give way to their cycles of life. The Buddah teaches that his great mistake was believing that this quest for inner light (some say this is God which exists in all of us) was only possible as a "quest", a journey all over the world, when he could have found it within himself anywhere, even in an office cubicle. Ok, I get it, however, he only realized this AFTER he had embarked upon his own great journey, I think my own revelation has to come during or after a similar quest of my own. I know that beyond a one hour yoga class, the natural world is the only place where my mind will be able to connect with my soul and my body. I cannot see any other way I can find any twinkling of sprituality without using my body, whether it be moving through yoga poses or up and down mountains.
Then, there is the question of things dissapearing. Bobwhite quail, Elms, Oaks, Ash, Chestnuts, Wolves, species of frog and toad, even the very tops of mountains are being blasted into oblivion by mountain top removal mining. Whether these irreplaceable wonders are being collected by the gods to re-model their back yards or whether they will be forever gone is a hard guess. Either way, I'd like to see them and say I've seen them - I want to really SEE WHAT I SEE. After the emerald ash borer has mashed its ugly head into the living flesh of the last Ash tree, people will say, "You've seen one, a live Ash, not in an arboretum?" And I will solemly nod my head yes, like I do when I say I saw the resting place of Bernini in the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore. After all, the great buttresses and columns of ancient churches were meant to emulate the magestic trees in the old growth forests of our ancestors. I do not want to live my life knowing I only experienced the seasons through window panes or short walks to the mailbox. As Thoreau said, "Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each." Grow with Spring, up through the Appalachian ridgeline, through Georgia and into NC/Tennessee, sweat with Summer through Virginia and Pennsylvania and if I'm lucky, I'll change my colors with Fall up through the northlands. Re-connect. I don't have a house, a mortgage, a baby (excepting a small cat that my sister and husband are (better be) snuggling with right now). I want to spend four months out of my life simply existing and being amazed at the fact I exist and that my body works like it does and that nature works the way it does and that they are the same. I know it's not all going to be idealistic with gorgeous weather and birds alighting on my spork when I eat oatmeal in the morning. I'm in it for the downpours, the mud, the mosquitos, the lightning, the creepy dudes, the shelter-mice and the LOVE.
Of course there are MANY more reasons than that, but it will take me too long to type them...
That was more than two years ago. I had never stated out loud my desire to hike the AT and actually suprised myself by saying it and knowing that I meant it. It's hard for me to express the reasons for wanting to hike the trail, I always feel that when people ask "why?" I choose an answer that the person asking would most understand and I usually end up with faces showing confusion, concern, or a conspirational wink. I could start broad and spiritual and say I'm looking for an inner quiet, the stillness within that many great cultures believe is the piece of you that continues through the ages while your different bodies give way to their cycles of life. The Buddah teaches that his great mistake was believing that this quest for inner light (some say this is God which exists in all of us) was only possible as a "quest", a journey all over the world, when he could have found it within himself anywhere, even in an office cubicle. Ok, I get it, however, he only realized this AFTER he had embarked upon his own great journey, I think my own revelation has to come during or after a similar quest of my own. I know that beyond a one hour yoga class, the natural world is the only place where my mind will be able to connect with my soul and my body. I cannot see any other way I can find any twinkling of sprituality without using my body, whether it be moving through yoga poses or up and down mountains.
Then, there is the question of things dissapearing. Bobwhite quail, Elms, Oaks, Ash, Chestnuts, Wolves, species of frog and toad, even the very tops of mountains are being blasted into oblivion by mountain top removal mining. Whether these irreplaceable wonders are being collected by the gods to re-model their back yards or whether they will be forever gone is a hard guess. Either way, I'd like to see them and say I've seen them - I want to really SEE WHAT I SEE. After the emerald ash borer has mashed its ugly head into the living flesh of the last Ash tree, people will say, "You've seen one, a live Ash, not in an arboretum?" And I will solemly nod my head yes, like I do when I say I saw the resting place of Bernini in the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore. After all, the great buttresses and columns of ancient churches were meant to emulate the magestic trees in the old growth forests of our ancestors. I do not want to live my life knowing I only experienced the seasons through window panes or short walks to the mailbox. As Thoreau said, "Live each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influences of each." Grow with Spring, up through the Appalachian ridgeline, through Georgia and into NC/Tennessee, sweat with Summer through Virginia and Pennsylvania and if I'm lucky, I'll change my colors with Fall up through the northlands. Re-connect. I don't have a house, a mortgage, a baby (excepting a small cat that my sister and husband are (better be) snuggling with right now). I want to spend four months out of my life simply existing and being amazed at the fact I exist and that my body works like it does and that nature works the way it does and that they are the same. I know it's not all going to be idealistic with gorgeous weather and birds alighting on my spork when I eat oatmeal in the morning. I'm in it for the downpours, the mud, the mosquitos, the lightning, the creepy dudes, the shelter-mice and the LOVE.
Of course there are MANY more reasons than that, but it will take me too long to type them...
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Hopes of an Amateur Ornithologist
The following is the result of an interview I conducted of a famous amateur ornitholoigst and professional boyfriend, Mr. Mike Marks. The interview resulted in the following list of birds that Mr. Marks would like to see along the trail (and two I would like to see). Various reasons for our choices are included as well as some interesting facts (thanks to Wiki and All About Birds.
1. Northern Bobwhite Quail
Lisa: Why do you want to see one of those, Mike?
Mike - Becuase they are small and plump (mike loves anything that fits that description). They are also one of the few quail species that consistently inhabit an entire region - Ohio included. I've never seen one, though. There's also some interesting conservation issues that have recently come up involving these guys. They are endangered of becoming extinct in the wild.
Lisa: Why do you want to see one of those, Mike?
Mike - Becuase they are small and plump (mike loves anything that fits that description). They are also one of the few quail species that consistently inhabit an entire region - Ohio included. I've never seen one, though. There's also some interesting conservation issues that have recently come up involving these guys. They are endangered of becoming extinct in the wild.
Interesting Facts: The bobwhite's mottled coloring serves a protective purpose. When the bird is threatened or alarmed, it often "freezes," allowing its camouflage coloring to blend into its surroundings. A stout beak and powerful claws are excellent adaptations for finding and eating seeds and fruits. Their name comes from the sound of their whistle which sounds like, "Booobbb Whhhitiittee". It is becoming increasingly popular to raise Bobwhite quail for release in hunting or conservation areas and for sale to the gourmet food market. Bobwhite quail are the most popular game birds in the southeastern United States, and some farmers raise them for sport or additional income. They are also number one on Audobon's endangered bird list.
2. Eastern Screech Owl
Mike: These birds are adorable."
Lisa: Are they loud for their small size? Do they really screetch?"
Mike: No, they whinney.
Lisa: Um. So they are whinneying, tiny, adorable owls? I see why you want to get a look at one.
Mike: Yeah. They aren't threatened but they are uncommon to see.
Mike: These birds are adorable."
Lisa: Are they loud for their small size? Do they really screetch?"
Mike: No, they whinney.
Lisa: Um. So they are whinneying, tiny, adorable owls? I see why you want to get a look at one.
Mike: Yeah. They aren't threatened but they are uncommon to see.
Interesting Facts: The Eastern Screech-Owl is found in nearly every habitat throughout the eastern United States and southern Canada. It is common in urban as well as rural areas and readily nests in nest boxes, although the little buggers are notoriously hard to spot, mostly because of their excellent camoflauge. The commonly eat 1/3 of their body weight each night, not so bad when you know they weigh an average of 4.5 ounces. The Eastern Screech-Owl is known to eat a variety of songbirds, including the European Starling. Despite this fact, the starling regularly displaces the owl from nesting sites and takes over the hole to raise its own brood.
3. Loggerhead Shrike
Lisa: Do you want to see one because they are part turtle?
Mike: Their beaks kind of look like heads, but I dunno if that's where the name comes from. I find them interesting becuase of their feeding habits. Their legs are too weak to rip at their prey so they impale it on thorns or barbed wire, stuff like that.
Lisa: COOL!
Lisa: Do you want to see one because they are part turtle?
Mike: Their beaks kind of look like heads, but I dunno if that's where the name comes from. I find them interesting becuase of their feeding habits. Their legs are too weak to rip at their prey so they impale it on thorns or barbed wire, stuff like that.
Lisa: COOL!
Interesting Facts: These birds regularly rip to shreds, insects, amphibians, small reptiles, small mammals, and birds. Scans for food from perches. Kills by biting prey in back of neck, cutting the spinal cord. Impales prey on thorns so that it can be torn apart. These birds were once abundant, but declined drastically through last half of 20th century. Essentially gone from northeastern part of range and they are continually declining throughout their range. The subspecies on San Clemente Island in California is listed as endangered on the federal list. We'll be lucky to see one of these guys; I hope we do!
4. Pileated Woodpecker
This is one of my choices. These birds are the biggest woodpecker species in the world and they make the funniest sounds, their call is likened to a wild laugh and their drumming is very loud, like a hammer striking a tree. Their tongues wrap all the way around the back of their skull to absorb the shock of their beak slamming into wood all day. I've only seen two - a pair flying low together over my head at Jackson Field MetroPark. I want to see more!
Interesting facts - The only birds from North America with similar plumage and size are the Ivory Billed Woodpecker who's range is the SE US and Cuba (now thought to be extinct), and the Imperial Woodpecker of Mexico (extremely endangered). They are known in the south as an Indian Hen.
5. Golden Crowned Kinglet
5. Golden Crowned Kinglet
Lisa: Why them?
Mike: They are hilarious little balls that fly through the air with little orange caps on. There is a permanent population in northeast Ohio, but there are gaps all around the area with no kinglets. However, there is a line running through the Appalachians that they inhabit because of the trees they prefer, spruce and other conifers.
Lisa: You wanna see your flying ball friends in the mountains too, huh?
Mike: Yeah.
Interesting Facts: These birds are almost as small as hummingbirds, but they winter in Alaska and Canada. They are becoming rare in the West, but interestingly, their populations are increasing in the East. The female of the species feeds her babies only on the first day they hatch. After that, she lays another batch of eggs and sits on them while the male feeds the first babies, himself and occasionally the female. The total amount of young averages around 9. These little flying balls (seriously they are almost spherical) have a single, tiny feather covering each nostril.
6. Blackburnian Warbler
Mike: These guys have a summer range in the Appalachians. They are incredibly long-distance migration birds that belong to a large family with lots of variation which is why it's always such a challenge for me to identify them. I feel like I never see them so I'm picking this one, it's a beautiful bird, and I'll try to spot some individuals along the trail.
Mike: These guys have a summer range in the Appalachians. They are incredibly long-distance migration birds that belong to a large family with lots of variation which is why it's always such a challenge for me to identify them. I feel like I never see them so I'm picking this one, it's a beautiful bird, and I'll try to spot some individuals along the trail.
Interesting Facts: These birds are brilliantly colored, especially during the mating season with neon orange and dark black feathers. These birds will join foraging flocks of chickadees, kinglets and nuthatches after its young fledge. Its winter range extends into the Andes and it breeds through the Appalachians down into Georgia.
7. Baltimore Oriole
Mike: Even though the first time I saw one of these was in Ohio, they remind me of Maryland
Lisa: Remember when I saw one of these in a tree when we were camping by Ithaca, NY for Ned's graduation? I started screaming that someones pet parrot had escaped and then you started laughing and told me I'd seen my first oriole.
Mike: Yeah, hehehe.
Mike: Even though the first time I saw one of these was in Ohio, they remind me of Maryland
Lisa: Remember when I saw one of these in a tree when we were camping by Ithaca, NY for Ned's graduation? I started screaming that someones pet parrot had escaped and then you started laughing and told me I'd seen my first oriole.
Mike: Yeah, hehehe.
Interesting Facts: Mike must like orange and black birds, because the Baltimore Oriole has the similar neon orange and black plumage like the Blackburnian Warbler. This bird received its name from the fact that the male's colors resemble those on the coat-of-arms of Lord Baltimore. These birds migrate in flocks to southern Mexico, Central America and northern South America. Some birds may remain near feeders in winter. Baltimore Orioles forage in trees and shrubs, also making short flights to catch insects. They mainly eat insects, berries and nectar, and are often seen sipping at hummingbird feeders.
8. Peregrin Falcon
The Peregrine's breeding range includes land regions from the Arctic tundra to the Tropics. It can be found nearly everywhere on Earth, excepting extreme polar regions, very high mountains, and most tropical rainforests; the only major ice-free landmass from which it is entirely absent is New Zealand. This makes it the world's most widespread bird of prey. Both the English and scientific names of this species mean "wandering falcon", referring to the migratory habits of many northern populations.
While its diet consists almost exclusively of medium-sized birds, the Peregrine will occasionally hunt small mammals, small reptiles or even insects. It reaches sexual maturity at one year, and mates for life. It nests in a scrape, normally on cliff edges or, in recent times, on tall human-made structures. The Peregrine Falcon became an endangered species in many areas due to the use of pesticides, especially DDT. Since the ban on DDT from the beginning of the 1970s onwards, the populations recovered, supported by large scale protection of nesting places and releases to the wild
9. Wild Turkey
My choice. They are awesome and the males have a carbuncle. Also, male turkey's don't have penises, just a cloacha. Wild Turkeys are surprisingly agile fliers and very cunning, unlike their domestic counterparts. Turkeys are very cautious birds and will fly or run at the first sign of danger. In flight they can reach a speed of 50 miles per hour (80 km/h). They usually fly close to the ground for no more than a quarter mile (400 m). Turkeys have many vocalizations: "gobbles," "clucks," "putts," "purrs," "yelps," "cutts," "whines," "cackles," and "kee-kees." In early spring, male turkeys, also called gobblers or toms, gobble to announce their presence to females and competing males. The gobble can carry for up to a mile. Males also emit a low-pitched drumming sound. Hens "yelp" to let gobblers know their location. Gobblers often yelp in the manner of females, and hens can gobble, though they rarely do so. Immature males, called jakes, yelp often. Turkeys are omnivorous. They mostly contain mast, but are also occasionally known to consume small vertebrates like snakes, frogs or salamanders.
8. Peregrin Falcon
The Peregrine's breeding range includes land regions from the Arctic tundra to the Tropics. It can be found nearly everywhere on Earth, excepting extreme polar regions, very high mountains, and most tropical rainforests; the only major ice-free landmass from which it is entirely absent is New Zealand. This makes it the world's most widespread bird of prey. Both the English and scientific names of this species mean "wandering falcon", referring to the migratory habits of many northern populations.
While its diet consists almost exclusively of medium-sized birds, the Peregrine will occasionally hunt small mammals, small reptiles or even insects. It reaches sexual maturity at one year, and mates for life. It nests in a scrape, normally on cliff edges or, in recent times, on tall human-made structures. The Peregrine Falcon became an endangered species in many areas due to the use of pesticides, especially DDT. Since the ban on DDT from the beginning of the 1970s onwards, the populations recovered, supported by large scale protection of nesting places and releases to the wild
9. Wild Turkey
My choice. They are awesome and the males have a carbuncle. Also, male turkey's don't have penises, just a cloacha. Wild Turkeys are surprisingly agile fliers and very cunning, unlike their domestic counterparts. Turkeys are very cautious birds and will fly or run at the first sign of danger. In flight they can reach a speed of 50 miles per hour (80 km/h). They usually fly close to the ground for no more than a quarter mile (400 m). Turkeys have many vocalizations: "gobbles," "clucks," "putts," "purrs," "yelps," "cutts," "whines," "cackles," and "kee-kees." In early spring, male turkeys, also called gobblers or toms, gobble to announce their presence to females and competing males. The gobble can carry for up to a mile. Males also emit a low-pitched drumming sound. Hens "yelp" to let gobblers know their location. Gobblers often yelp in the manner of females, and hens can gobble, though they rarely do so. Immature males, called jakes, yelp often. Turkeys are omnivorous. They mostly contain mast, but are also occasionally known to consume small vertebrates like snakes, frogs or salamanders.
Pennsylvania Stats
Trail Miles: 232
Trail Maintenance: Cumberland Valley AT Management Assoc., York Hiking Club, Susquehana AT Club, Brandywine Valley Outing Club, Blue Mt. Eagle Climbing Club, Allentown Hiking Club, Philadelphia Trail Club, Appalachian Mt. Club, Batona Hiking Club, Wilmington Trail Club
Highest Point: Big Pine Flat Ridge, 2,080 ft
Parks/preserves: Caledonia State Park (Hey Angelo!), Michaux State Forest, Pine Grove Furnace State Park (Halfway point - will we stay or will we go?), Swatara State Park, Hawk Mt. Sanctuary
Trail Towns: Boiling Springs, Duncannon, Port Clinton, Delaware Water Gap
Trail Maintenance: Cumberland Valley AT Management Assoc., York Hiking Club, Susquehana AT Club, Brandywine Valley Outing Club, Blue Mt. Eagle Climbing Club, Allentown Hiking Club, Philadelphia Trail Club, Appalachian Mt. Club, Batona Hiking Club, Wilmington Trail Club
Highest Point: Big Pine Flat Ridge, 2,080 ft
Parks/preserves: Caledonia State Park (Hey Angelo!), Michaux State Forest, Pine Grove Furnace State Park (Halfway point - will we stay or will we go?), Swatara State Park, Hawk Mt. Sanctuary
Trail Towns: Boiling Springs, Duncannon, Port Clinton, Delaware Water Gap
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