My car said it had a flat tire. Driving down Interstate 40 in the ballpark of towns preparing their application for a second stop light, this wasn’t exactly an opportune time (I will say that I have yet to find an opportune time for a flat tire warning). It was early on a Saturday morning,Continue reading “2020/10/17 – Lost Time, Lost Cliffs”
Tag Archives: Blue Ridge Mountains
2020/10/16 – Doing Time at Silvermine Bald
I’m not sure if the ridge that the Blue Ridge Parkway rides west of Asheville through Mt. Pisgah and to the Great Balsams is actually the Pisgah Ridge. I saw that name on a sign once, though, so I’d like to think it is. Maybe its name is Gerald. I like to learn a lotContinue reading “2020/10/16 – Doing Time at Silvermine Bald”
2020/10/16 – Heading West along the Big East Fork
I couldn’t feel my legs. That might have been a little more disconcerting than it was, for at least it had a rational explanation. I had been standing in near-freezing water for nearly a minute (I have it on good authority that I could tell it wasn’t freezing because it wouldn’t have been water anymore). I was standing, barefoot, in the Big East Fork, a river that drains an area flowing from the Black Balsam/Graveyard Fields area of the Pisgah National Forest. It wasn’t for no reason that I was doing this. I didn’t recreationally try to catch hypothermia. It was the only way I had found to get a good picture.
2020/07/04 Jumping John Rock is a Gas, Gas, Gas
I wasn’t sure I could go. I was pacing, or at least the best approximation I could do, back and forth in our hotel room, testing out the injured foot that would need to have far more than the 20 hours I’d give it to recover from the nasty turn I had given it on the Flat Laurel Creek Trail. It really wasn’t good. My foot had swollen so much through the gaps in the compression sleeve that I was wearing that the edges nearly cut my skin. I wasn’t sure I could walk down to the car, and was half hoping Jess would push me a luggage cart. I could barely make it from bed to bathroom, and yet in less than an hour I was hoping to tackle a 7 mile, 1100 foot elevation gain hike.
In normal times I might have heard the fat lady sing. But these were covid times, and the fat lady’s performance was canceled as it was against CDC regulations.
2017/10/21 – Black Mountain Magic Woman
Somewhere in front of us was a mountain. Not that we could see it, but we were taking it on good faith that it was there. I don’t know why, considering the Blue Ridge Parkway signage had been rather inconsistent this summer of 2011, but we were. We could definitely see the base of it, but impenetrable mist shrouded much of the top. And that top seemed to be enormously high – far higher than I had ever imagined could occur in Appalachia. Not that I had ever spent much time imagining the tallness of Appalachia. I was from Florida, after all, where the largest hills nearby are landfills (one might think I am joking. But it’s pretty much true). This massive peak was beyond anything I would have expected. It was mysterious, foreboding, fantastical. For a second I thought I might have been in Alaska, and that was only partially because I would end up in the hospital later that night with a systemic infection.
2017/10/16-2017/10/17 – Grandfather Mountain is our Granddaddy
I was almost through it, the stacks of boulders the size of modern day pickup trucks that tow mobile homes behind them just for the sake of justifying them costing more than my house. I had navigated foot by foot along the treacherous stretch, having to take care to avoid a spill and concentrating onContinue reading “2017/10/16-2017/10/17 – Grandfather Mountain is our Granddaddy”
2017/10/16 – Letdown at Looking Glass and Moore Cove Falls
Looking Glass easily provides the most striking and distinctive peak in the area. It’s shape can be easily identified from the rest even at a great distance. Every view which includes it is better because of it. You get no benefit from that when you’re on the actual rock. One thing is conspicuously absent from the view from Looking Glass; the rock itself.
2017/10/16 – Three Falls at Dupont State Forest
In my haste I allowed the filter to slip out of my fingers in the wet conditions, striking the rock with a force no filter was designed to sustained. One look at it confirmed its days of usefulness were at at end, and in a moment of anger and frustration I chucked it as far as I could see. Jess saw what I had done and raced over to scold me, and she was right. I had littered the forest, though that wasn’t my intention and the consequences of what I had done didn’t even pop into my head at the time. But as I said before, I was angry. (There’s a popular saying that it’s impossible to hike in the woods and be angry. That person clearly never hiked with a photographer).
2017/10/15 – Darnell Creek and Glen Falls
I was nervous. Scared. We were in our distinctly non-four wheel drive Toyota Corolla (though I scarcely think I would have felt comfortable in any vehicle). We were on a narrow, gravel, one-lane road heading up a mountainside to God know’s where. And we were in completely over our heads.
The young man on the four-wheeler had passed us and we asked him if there was a turnaround point. He said something along the lines of not really. I said something along the lines of shit.
2017/10/15 – Trial at Tallulah Gorge
Jello leg. That’s what you call it when your legs are so tired the soft tissue has lost all strength and has simply become a gelatinous mass, and you rely on the structure of your bones, any assisting devices such as railings, and sheer willpower to ply your way up the remains of whatever inclineContinue reading “2017/10/15 – Trial at Tallulah Gorge”
J. Parker Nature Stories 