Tag: Great Smoky Mountains National Park

King of the Forest

King of the Forest

He burst around a bend in the trail, running full speed, and skidded to a stop 15 feet from me. Our eyes locked. His were wide and filled with fear. His sides heaved as his breath came in deep pants. He was soaked, dripping with water or sweat, I couldn’t tell. Long strings of drool dripped from his mouth as his antlers crowned his magnificent head.

It was obvious something had been chasing him. And I was in his way. He took two steps toward me and lowered his antlers a bit. I calmly said, “It’s okay. I’m not who’s trying to hurt you. Run on. Go fast.” He stopped, took a deep breath, and then leaped down the steep mountainside. 

I stood there listening to him move through the woods and creek below. Maybe three minutes later, I heard dogs barking. As they came closer, I started yelling at them. Of course that did nothing to stop them. They were huge, black dogs and even though I caused them to pause, they doubled back and ran on. When they picked up his scent, they screamed their barks and crashed through the creek far below.

Fury arose in me. This is a national park. Hunting is illegal, so is running dogs through it. These dogs didn’t have collars, like the usual hunting dogs have that run through the park terrorizing wildlife. I don’t know what they were except hell-bent on catching the deer.

I was almost two miles from my car, so couldn’t help the deer by running back to call for a ranger. I hoped the eight-point buck outwitted the dogs. How I hoped that, for him and his potential descendants.

Even now, many hours after the encounter, I feel that buck’s fear–but more than that–I feel his strength and stamina, his defiance as he stepped towards me, and then his trust that I wasn’t his enemy. 

When faced with a panicked, wild animal, I never know how I will react, but some higher part of me stepped in to connect with the buck. I didn’t have time to feel afraid. I had to reassure him that I was no threat…quickly…but encourage him to keep moving because whatever was chasing him was surely coming.

The experience awakened some strength in me that rose above fear. The deer and I connected profoundly in those moments. He gifted me with something I feel deeply in my bones, but I struggle to assign words to. I am wilder, stronger, smarter, wiser for the momentary communion with this king of the forest. 

Awe

Awe

There’s a book written on awe and how good it is for us to experience it. Tonight, I left the comfort and warmth of my bed after 10pm because I checked the KP index and it was 9…which is very high and is good news for aurora lovers. I put on snow pants, my big down jacket and grabbed my iPhone. I peeked outside and sure enough, there was a faint red glow. So I grabbed my tripod and got a couple nice shots and realized I had to go into the woods with open fields with north facing views. And am I EVER glad I did.

It’s not easy to go out in below freezing temperatures, but to chase dancing colors in the sky, I had to take the chance.

I went to some fields I know on public land and parked beside the road in three different locations and got some great foreground for variety and saw pillars of light as the color and shape changed from moment-to-moment. Elk were EVERYWHERE at the park entrance which added to the magic but made navigation through the herd quite interesting.

No need to carry on and on about the experience. Let me simply say it was worth spending two hours in below freezing temperatures to witness this and capture the beauty…in some small way.

Sometimes it’s so worth leaving my comfort zone to go explore beauty. I highly recommend it.

Of Sweat and Rain

Of Sweat and Rain

I parked at 6am at the trailhead. It was only 65 degrees but I started to sweat as I stood alongside my Subie. The humidity…oh, the humidity!

Within 10 minutes I had my pack on and was heading up the semi-dark trail. It was light enough to see in some places, but with heavy rhododendron cover and tree canopy, a little headlamp light was nice…and I hoped it would alert the bears that I was heading their way. (I only smelled one).

The top of Mount LeConte was my destination, but I had concerns about lightning. The forecast looked okay for the morning, but early afternoons have been the lightning-bringer. Rain I was prepared for, but we’ve had so many pop-up storms lately and being on the ridge or summit of a 6593’ mountain…just brought really bad memories of a hike last summer at Kuwohi.

My friend Amelia and I hiked from the parking lot at Kuwohi, up the Bypass trail, then took a left on the Appalachian Trail and hiked to Siler’s Bald…5 miles from our start. We had a nice break and lunch at the bald and when we stood up to leave saw a massive storm over Fontana Lake below us. And of course it came our way. We were hiking back up to Kuwohi and ended up having lightning crackling overhead as we hiked. It was terrifying. 

Given that scary experience last summer, I was being extra careful. You don’t have cell service to check radar to monitor storms. So….

There were a couple folks ahead of me, but not in my view. And I knew others were behind, but again…not in my hiking bubble. I had the trail to myself and even had Alum Cave to myself for a little while. But just above the cave, it got darker and started sprinkling. By the time I reached the 3.5 mile mark (out of my 5.5 destination), sheets of rain were falling. My rain gear was keeping me dry, but I wondered if lightning would be far behind.

I was feeling great, taking my time to enjoy the beauty of the trail but I live so close to this magical place, I can return easily another day. And every inch of trail I continued to hike up, I had to hike back down. So, I weighed my options and felt I’d be extra careful and start back down the trail as the rain created a small creek of water rushing down the trail.

I’m not someone who gives up on a goal easily and I absolutely love this hike. I’d already done what I consider the hardest part of the hike…but if you hear thunder, you’re already at risk and I want to be able to visit this place many more times.

There was still some decent elevation gain of 1673 feet up and 1709 feet down (how can you hike more down than you do up…I never understand that) and I hiked a total of 7 miles. So good workout and nearly four hours of expansion and beauty and communing with Nature. A couple hours since finishing and my body feels amazing….clear, aligned, sparkly, grounded. Joy is bubbling up within as I sit typing with Buddy curled up against me.

When the Forest Rises Up

When the Forest Rises Up

John Seed once said, “I am part of the rainforest protecting itself.” He is the father of the Australian Deep Ecology movement and founder of the Rainforest Information Centre. The idea he shares is that we are One with all life and when we are open, we can take action as an extension of the Earth protecting itself. 

I first learned of John Seed when I spent a week with Joanna Macy and thirty other individuals learning about Deep Ecology and healing our disconnect from Earth. This was after I spent a year documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon Gulf of Mexico Oil Disaster and was emotionally and spiritually burned out, depressed, exhausted. Joanna helped me heal and open myself again to alignment with beauty.

Twenty-five years after the explosion of Deepwater Horizon, killing 11 workers and creating the largest oil spill in the history of marine oil drilling operations, I was hiking with friends on Alum Cave trail. Three days before Earth Day. We made it to LeConte Lodge and enjoyed lunch, sitting on a grassy area. One friend wanted to stay at the lodge, so the other friend and I decided to hike to Cliff Tops, a short distance from the lodge.

We almost left our packs with Pam, but decided to take them in case she wanted to walk around or visit the store. There are two trails to Cliff Tops and I led us up the longer one. As soon as we turned onto Cliff Tops trail, off of the Boulevard Trail, we smelled smoke and saw a billowing puff coming from a grassy area. Without looking at each other to talk about it or pausing a second, we sprinted through the woods toward the smoke and found an actively burning fire in a very poorly constructed circle of rocks. There was dry grass all around and high winds. Thank goodness we had our packs with our water supply!

Paige is a battalion chief in a fire department in Georgia and immediately took action. We emptied our water containers onto the fire and she instructed me to run back to the lodge and get water and let the lodge staff know what was happening. She continued to work on digging a proper pit around the fire while I ran back with her water bottles and the water bladder from my pack.

Once I arrived at the lodge, I instructed a guy to run tell the staff about the fire, where it was and our efforts to extinguish it. I refilled our containers and ran back up the trail. Paige had made considerable progress in extinguishing the fire, which was smoldering when I returned. She carefully used the 5 liters of water to cool the remaining hot areas. And then two gals from the lodge arrived with a shovel to bury the fire remnants with soil.

Never in my life have I felt like two individuals, one a fire chief, were so in the right place at the right time. The wind was blowing toward the lodge. One spark from that fire onto the dry grass could have created a loss of not only historic structures, but acres and acres of ancient forest, not to mention human lives and wildlife. The experience reminded me of John Seed’s quote….I am part of the rainforest protecting itself.

Paige & Simone

I met other hikers who ignored my request to bring their water to the fire, so perhaps they didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation or they weren’t consciously open to the call of the forest. I don’t know. But I do know that Paige and I love places like this and have a deep place of connection with them and all life. Perhaps that conscious connection allowed us to respond to the forest, allowed it to rise up through us to protect itself. 

When I reflect back on that moment, at the exact right timing, at Paige being there bringing her expertise to the exact location where it was needed, to my knowing where the closest water hydrant was located…I really do feel that somehow our openness and love of Nature called us to that intersection of need and skill. 

Imagine what can happen in our lives and in this world if many of us are open to using our skills and allow life to call us to that intersection where need and skill meet, not just once, but as a life practice. I believe the world could be transformed.

Simone, Paige, Pam