Oh Balls, we'll have to do it quick and dirty.
Last monday Ben Kahn, David, Benji Anderson and myself went hiking near the Tenn. border. at the exit for the Pigeion river dam and Midnight Hole we parked and took the trail up to Mount Sterling. 6.7 miles up the trail 6.7 down with a 1400 detour to check for a water supply. Well the up was awesome. Such beauty. I have pictures that I'll have to resize or somesuch. The mountains here are so old.
Hard hiking up. A steady sweat rolling off the body climb, glasses quickly salt crusted. I stuff my white shirt into my short just past the massive rock outcropping. Conversation meadered about. The goal was mushroom picking but picking were slim. I blathered about politics and the securirty dilemma and settled into an old topic of the double edge seduction the quick saturday night burn for Mr. Kahn. Near a cut back we sat on a foot and half wide log and I laid more of it down. "Being good for nothing else be wise," right. Responsibility and openess I stressed as I watched centipedes as thick as my finger avoid daddy long legs with red fleshy bits at thier joints. We were back at it resting from time to time then we broke 5,000 feet and it went all spruce pine, so said Mr Kahn. Ferns growning from higs fallen pines and everything so still. farther we pushed up and farther still. We drank water. The light changed again and it was just short pines needles. Moss covered rivers of stones and so much more I can't describe.
Then we made it to the top and climbed the hundred foot fire tower to look over the surrounding peaks. Beauty. we climbed down to the steps and let the breeze wash over our boddies. We ate peaches and avacado and peanut butter sandwiches and drank more water. Came back down we forraged the black berry bushes for dessert and then to the water hole which we were warned to boil. We didn't.
After a rest came the descent. We knew dark would catch us we just weren't sure how far out. We made good time going straight down but dusk came on us just as the treacherous nettles path made us slow from a jog. we went as quickly as possible but then real dark came on, the full moon hide from us by the thick canopy. Mr. Kahn was kind to stay near me, my night vision being quick poor and we felt out way down maybe four miles of now treacherous rock strewn path slipping cursing gently and calling out with animal noise to Benji and David who somehow always moved ahead quicker than us. We found lighting bugs and for the first time in my life I saw real life foxfire.
Finally we heard the stream again after two safe crossing of it farther up and it teased us until we came to the bridge laughing. all concerns for time and back to town were gone and we stripped down to naked and waded in the pleasant frigid mountain stream water. The shiver was in our voices as we went in and squated in the cold. Moonlight on an ancient stony pool and four now fast friends cooling in the clean clear water. after a time we climbed on to rocks to dry and our bodies steamed. I felt like an ape or early man. I have to admit it was then that I started thinking of writing this up here. Kahn went back in but was nibbled by fish. We dryed and dressed and went back to my car where we drank more water and headed out.
On the way in we had noticed a truck laded watermelon and now our minds and bellies turned to this. I stopped the car, engine running and sent Mr. Kahn out holding a crisp five above his head like a white flag for we dead fear being shot aproaching so late at night. He advanced with his left and followed with the right easing slowly up and picked out a water mellon before placing the five in thier windshield wiper and returning to the car. The mellon was 30 pounds at least and a good 2 and half feet long.
We drove to the playground parking lot and there in the moonlight and the white street light on the dry blacktop Benji cut the watermellon into quarter and we feast! We laughed and giggled uncontrollably like only delirium and healthy decadance can induce. We laughed for joy our motuhs full of sweet water melon and the juice fell splattering from out open mouths. I will never forget Mr. Kahn keeling and crouched over in a fit of laugher the juice falling from his mouth in a thick stream all back light by the street lamp in the midnightnight clarity that film noir tries to capture and never does. This was a photograph for my memory and I can never shall all of it.
But in the middle of that a white crown vic came lolling by with a yellow canoe straped to the top and stopped, backed up and came into the parking lot stoping along side of us. A young man leaned out the open widow and slurred, "want some vodka? Chug it man." I took a bottle of hot grey goose from him and had a swig and passed it along. Benji had a swig and then rest passed and we gave it back. They were looking for directions. We gave what we could and offered them some water melon. They were looking for Mightnight Hole and a place to put in tomorrow. Another offer of vodka and they were on thier way.
We ate more and giggled then we started to throw the pieces at the "no staging for kayacker and canoes" sign abandoning the idea of just leaving them there. We threw all of the pieces and didn't hit anything but the street in a satifying splat and splatter. Me and Kahn raced to it and point blank punshied the sign. No traffic cone courtesy here. We walked back from the snow of rinds and saw the wet melon juice and saliva on the dry pavement. It was sublime. A memory for rainy days. I can' do much better justice than that.
We drove home and stripped and showered and I fell asleep soon after promising you readers something to read.
So there is that. party tales tomorrow perhaps. No promises I can't keep, no expectations.
Did I mention I saw a bear swimming across to an Island on Watauga Lake. A young one, black bear. Some shriek to go closer and I said hang back, don't spook the little guy.
Numbness in my left hand a little. Carpel tunnel eh? More pen work then.
hope you all are well.
Last monday Ben Kahn, David, Benji Anderson and myself went hiking near the Tenn. border. at the exit for the Pigeion river dam and Midnight Hole we parked and took the trail up to Mount Sterling. 6.7 miles up the trail 6.7 down with a 1400 detour to check for a water supply. Well the up was awesome. Such beauty. I have pictures that I'll have to resize or somesuch. The mountains here are so old.
Hard hiking up. A steady sweat rolling off the body climb, glasses quickly salt crusted. I stuff my white shirt into my short just past the massive rock outcropping. Conversation meadered about. The goal was mushroom picking but picking were slim. I blathered about politics and the securirty dilemma and settled into an old topic of the double edge seduction the quick saturday night burn for Mr. Kahn. Near a cut back we sat on a foot and half wide log and I laid more of it down. "Being good for nothing else be wise," right. Responsibility and openess I stressed as I watched centipedes as thick as my finger avoid daddy long legs with red fleshy bits at thier joints. We were back at it resting from time to time then we broke 5,000 feet and it went all spruce pine, so said Mr Kahn. Ferns growning from higs fallen pines and everything so still. farther we pushed up and farther still. We drank water. The light changed again and it was just short pines needles. Moss covered rivers of stones and so much more I can't describe.
Then we made it to the top and climbed the hundred foot fire tower to look over the surrounding peaks. Beauty. we climbed down to the steps and let the breeze wash over our boddies. We ate peaches and avacado and peanut butter sandwiches and drank more water. Came back down we forraged the black berry bushes for dessert and then to the water hole which we were warned to boil. We didn't.
After a rest came the descent. We knew dark would catch us we just weren't sure how far out. We made good time going straight down but dusk came on us just as the treacherous nettles path made us slow from a jog. we went as quickly as possible but then real dark came on, the full moon hide from us by the thick canopy. Mr. Kahn was kind to stay near me, my night vision being quick poor and we felt out way down maybe four miles of now treacherous rock strewn path slipping cursing gently and calling out with animal noise to Benji and David who somehow always moved ahead quicker than us. We found lighting bugs and for the first time in my life I saw real life foxfire.
Finally we heard the stream again after two safe crossing of it farther up and it teased us until we came to the bridge laughing. all concerns for time and back to town were gone and we stripped down to naked and waded in the pleasant frigid mountain stream water. The shiver was in our voices as we went in and squated in the cold. Moonlight on an ancient stony pool and four now fast friends cooling in the clean clear water. after a time we climbed on to rocks to dry and our bodies steamed. I felt like an ape or early man. I have to admit it was then that I started thinking of writing this up here. Kahn went back in but was nibbled by fish. We dryed and dressed and went back to my car where we drank more water and headed out.
On the way in we had noticed a truck laded watermelon and now our minds and bellies turned to this. I stopped the car, engine running and sent Mr. Kahn out holding a crisp five above his head like a white flag for we dead fear being shot aproaching so late at night. He advanced with his left and followed with the right easing slowly up and picked out a water mellon before placing the five in thier windshield wiper and returning to the car. The mellon was 30 pounds at least and a good 2 and half feet long.
We drove to the playground parking lot and there in the moonlight and the white street light on the dry blacktop Benji cut the watermellon into quarter and we feast! We laughed and giggled uncontrollably like only delirium and healthy decadance can induce. We laughed for joy our motuhs full of sweet water melon and the juice fell splattering from out open mouths. I will never forget Mr. Kahn keeling and crouched over in a fit of laugher the juice falling from his mouth in a thick stream all back light by the street lamp in the midnightnight clarity that film noir tries to capture and never does. This was a photograph for my memory and I can never shall all of it.
But in the middle of that a white crown vic came lolling by with a yellow canoe straped to the top and stopped, backed up and came into the parking lot stoping along side of us. A young man leaned out the open widow and slurred, "want some vodka? Chug it man." I took a bottle of hot grey goose from him and had a swig and passed it along. Benji had a swig and then rest passed and we gave it back. They were looking for directions. We gave what we could and offered them some water melon. They were looking for Mightnight Hole and a place to put in tomorrow. Another offer of vodka and they were on thier way.
We ate more and giggled then we started to throw the pieces at the "no staging for kayacker and canoes" sign abandoning the idea of just leaving them there. We threw all of the pieces and didn't hit anything but the street in a satifying splat and splatter. Me and Kahn raced to it and point blank punshied the sign. No traffic cone courtesy here. We walked back from the snow of rinds and saw the wet melon juice and saliva on the dry pavement. It was sublime. A memory for rainy days. I can' do much better justice than that.
We drove home and stripped and showered and I fell asleep soon after promising you readers something to read.
So there is that. party tales tomorrow perhaps. No promises I can't keep, no expectations.
Did I mention I saw a bear swimming across to an Island on Watauga Lake. A young one, black bear. Some shriek to go closer and I said hang back, don't spook the little guy.
Numbness in my left hand a little. Carpel tunnel eh? More pen work then.
hope you all are well.
theseeman:
you forgot 14 miles total and the dead wieght of the next day.
guitargeek:
Reminds me of the time I hiked up Wheeler Peak in northern New Mexico with a couple girls. 13,161 feet above sea level. We didn't make it to the top, for as soon as we broke through the tree line we ran into a hail storm with lots of lightning. We donned our disposable rain ponchos and retreated back to the aspens to eat our lunch and wait. After about a half hour it was clear that this wasn't just going to blow over, and you don't want to get caught above the treeline with lightning about! So we hiked back down and made camp.