Tag: Simone Lipscomb
Walking Satellites

Walking Satellites

By |

Many years ago, Rickie Lee Jones did a song called Satellites. “So you keep talking in many languages, telling us the way you feel, don’t stop confiding in the road you’re on, don’t quit, you’re walking satellites. Walking satellites, she laughs satellites, a room filled with satellites, ah, walking satellites….Friends must stay together, code the world with the fugitive light.”

As I was walking today, I tested my ability to beam to a satellite. My friends– also avid fly fishers, hikers and general nature-loving outdoor enthusiasts who are also middle aged–and I have been exploring the use of satellite messengers when outside of cellular range…which is most everywhere here in the Smoky Mountains…Nantahala Gorge and other playgrounds in which we romp. She goes out a lot by herself, just as I do. And he has been really supportive of both of us getting connected to the starry sky.

After I did a lot of research, read articles, looked at monthly fees, and watched videos comparing top models, I had decided to not do it. It’s a bit of an investment plus who needs another monthly fee? And who would I put as my emergency contact? I have no family here and live rather isolated so…I mean, there are far worse ways to go out besides being in a beautiful place and dropping this mortal coil.

But one day I was fly fishing and was wading up a creek. It was amazing and beautiful and then I came to a rapid and deep pool and there were just a few options–scoot across a very slanted rock that would result in a dunking in waders in water over my head (not ever safe) if I slipped, go around under rhododendron (anyone familiar with this option understands the local’s term: rhododendron hell. Of course I could turn around but I couldn’t go up the bank because it had gone from a few feet to a very steep embankment. As I stood there calling on all my ‘smarts,’ I decided I needed to re-think the satellite messenger idea. And oddly enough, my friend got her boot stuck in the same creek area and that’s what prompted her to move forward with it. I also had another friend remind me that I might help someone else who is injured and needs help in a remote area. (For those curious individuals, I opted for the rhododendron hell and did okay).

We both ended up purchasing the Garmin inReach Mini. Today I tried it on a hike by sending pre-set messages to my friends to see how the unit worked. I don’t plan on using it for regular communications but it’s good to know how it works given the deep tree cover, gorges and other challenges a user of SM might experience. And I wanted to know now…in a non-emergency situation…rather than when I really need it to work for me or someone else.

For those interested in how the device functioned, read on.

I chose three locations to use the Garmin. It is unrelated to cell service and uses exclusively the iridium satellite network which provides worldwide coverage. The first area was down in a sort of bowl or small gorge at Indian Creek Falls in the Deep Creek area of Great Smoky Mountains National Park. There was open sky at an angle from me but after five minutes it had not sent the message. I walked up above the bowl of the falls area under a very small opening in the tree canopy and it sent and was received.

This was the original position in the waterfall area where I tried to send the message. There was open sky but not directly above me.

The above map is from the app on my iPhone that works with the SM unit. I did a screen shot of each location to get coordinates of exactly where the message sent and also did photos of the places to show open sky and general topography.

Moving up, out of the bowl, only 78 feet higher in elevation, and finding a small area of opening directly overhead created a better result in sending the message.

In the three preset messages, you can create whatever text you wish to use and choose your contacts in advance by setting this up on your computer desktop and then syncing the device to the app. When you send these preset messages you don’t have to chose a contact because it is preset. The cool thing with the Garmin is these preset messages are free and don’t count against your monthly plan allotment.

I thought seeing the open area in the tree canopy would be sufficient. But the SM needs a perpendicular path to be most effective in sending the message.

The second place I chose was a much smaller open area in the tree canopy. I stood on a bridge that had an opening; again, at a 45 degree angle to the unit. It didn’t send after 8 minutes so I walked a very short few steps and stood on the rock beach and as soon as I got to a more perpendicular angle to the mini, the message sent.

By moving a few feet from the bridge to the little beach, the message sent.
This is the open canopy area. I turned my phone to point directly overhead to see how much space the SM needed to send a message. Not much really…it sent the fastest of the three messages. This is message #3 site.

The final area I chose to test the SM was on a ridge that had tree cover but an even smaller open canopy. It sent the fastest. I think this was due to the direct, perpendicular position of the unit with the canopy opening. That was rather easy to figure out from the first two attempts.

The map that is linked to the preset message can be zoomed in by the friends you send it to.

All three messages were received. The SM used 5% of its battery sending those with the biggest drain coming from the two attempts when it took longer to find the satellite connection. There’s no doubt that being out of a gorge is helpful as is having a direct, overhead area of open sky; but, it doesn’t have to be a large opening (this surprised me). Garmin is very specific about these two issues with sending satellite messages and I was surprised it worked as well as it did given the thick canopy of green that we are so lucky to have here in the Smoky Mountains.

This is what the text looks like that is sent. Recipients can click on the link to see a map that can be zoomed closer. Plus it gives the coordinates just in case further contact isn’t forthcoming. These can be used by rescue personnel. However, Garmin is very clear that SOS messages are not to be sent to contacts with the preset messages. The SOS dedicated button on the SM unit is dedicated for emergency/rescues.

Overall, I’m very pleased with the inReach Mini and will continue to educate myself on its use. Garmin provides great support and even offers online classes on how to use it for emergencies. There are also many videos on YouTube that are helpful. I hope I never have to use it for myself or anyone else; but, if emergency rescue is needed I am glad I have a little tool that might make the difference for someone.

Although contemplating this brought up issues of being alone or without family here, I realized I do have many people who love and support me right here who wouldn’t be okay with me leaving this Earth plane because I didn’t have a way to call for assistance when I am out roaming the back country. “Walking satellites…Friends must stay together, code the world with the fugitive light.” I am grateful for my friends…we really are walking satellites for each other.
Choices

Choices

By |

Yesterday the entire day was spent moving furniture down stairs and up stairs. I moved a queen sized bed and natural latex mattress that is like a 200 pound gorilla made of Jello. Books, chairs, musical instruments…I finally sent out a call for assistance with the dresser and electronic piano. Thankfully my neighbors braved the chaos and helped with those items. God bless good neighbors.

It all started when I moved into the house. It’s a quirkily designed little mountain home that I love. But when I moved in, I had been on the road 9 hours after a few hours sleep with a dog and three cats and movers with a 26 foot packed-to-the-max truck. The wired money hadn’t arrived at my seller’s attorney’s office so I had to rent for three nights and in theory not move any furniture out. Yes…it was fully furnished with older vacation cabin ‘stuff’ so it was almost all going somewhere else. But for that night—that drizzly night—it was going to the basement or the porch. It was the most stressful move ever…which included having to pay my movers extra to move all the furniture to these spaces so my truckload could come into the house.

It has a loft, a small main floor and a finished basement. I had no ability to think about much with the cluster of chaos, so quickly made the decision to put my bedroom in the loft…along with my office furniture. For 18 months I’ve had this expansive, open bedroom susceptible to bright moons, rude cats, heavy rain on the metal roof and stairs to navigate should the need to pee arise. Many times I’ve thought I would like to move my bedroom to the main floor bedroom but it seemed small. So…I lived with my clothes split between two floors and my life feeling split. 

Finally, I decided that I would make the move downstairs after Tawanda cat kept waking me up at 4am every morning. Enough. So yesterday morning after breakfast I started and turned my house upside down and inside out in a very short time. 

I’m strong enough to handle nightstands, head and foot boards, chairs, huge crystal bowls, gongs, books and even that silly mattress that sleeps great but is truly dead weight and nearly impossible to deal with but somehow I managed all that with well-thought out and slow movements. And my neighbors helped with the two things I couldn’t handle. 

I finished the bedroom last night and the loft this morning…which is now my yoga studio, recording studio and office. Everything makes sense now.

I write this because sometimes we fail to see options clearly. When I moved in I didn’t think I had a choice regarding my bedroom. Now, it’s the most beautiful, cozy place that feels like a peaceful cocoon. And having all of my creative/work space together makes so much sense energetically.

We limit ourselves when we fail to realize that every decision is a choice. Even the decisions we don’t make. There is always choice, even when we think there isn’t. I spent a year and a half in an uncomfortable sleeping/working environment because I didn’t allow myself to see other options. Lesson learned. 

And while I didn’t get outside to enjoy the day, I did get 5.34 miles walking inside my home and 90 floors of stairs. I now have room for a student or two for yoga, a gathering place for women’s groups and an integrated space for creative work and play. And a blessed, amazing bedroom where I can close myself off from the demands of three cats and two dogs and not have to navigate stairs in the middle of the night.

All along I had this choice but thought I didn’t. I wonder what else I have ruled out because I didn’t think I had other options….what about you? 
The Jedi is a Rainbow

The Jedi is a Rainbow

By |

Saturday night there was a big insect hatch at the creek so Sunday the fish were stuffed and completely uninterested in eating. Sort of like eating the entire pizza myself and then not eating the next day…not that I’d ever do that. Today felt like a day they might be hungry so I worked on an online yoga class this morning and went out this afternoon to try my luck at wading in the creek and meeting the Jedi Master Trout in my favorite creek.

The water level looked a bit lower as I drove along the Oconoluftee River…was glad to see that as the creek I fish in feeds into the ‘Luftee so I was hoping the flow would be down a bit in my little bit of heaven. 

It was in the mid 60’s and overcast. As I gazed into the creek and then to my fly box, I listened to the prompt that would guide me about choosing a fly. If I was a trout today, what would I be eating? Sparkly, yummy nymphs. So…I chose a lightning bug nymph. 

Once my gear was set up, I put on the waders and boots, adjusted my hip pack and unfolded my wading staff…probably the most helpful gear I have. I strolled up stream along the road and then stepped down to the creek when the bank became less steep. 

Something about that first step into clear, flowing water…everything else melted away and I was completely present with the creek, rocks, trees, insects…and hopefully the fish. Fly fishing in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park reminds me of cave diving in that it’s a bit gear intensive but thankfully I’m not hauling around two steel scuba cylinders. And like cave diving, the focus must be 100%.  If your mind wanders you can fall and lose gear or hurt yourself. There is an unmistakable call to be completely in the moment. 

It didn’t take long to catch a brown trout. The little six or seven inch fish was beautiful but quite unruly. I dipped my hand into the water to steady it so I could remove the barbless hook and release the fish. The fish decided to flip out, literally, and in so doing untied my awesomely unimproved improved clinch knot. So maybe that sparkly tiny little lightning bug fly will find its way out of the trout’s lip. Otherwise she or he has a piercing with a small bit of bling.

I’m not quite comfortable changing flys in the creek yet so I waded out and knelt in a dry creek bed and once again looked into the magic box…what would I like to eat if I was a trout? Oh, a little copper john fly. I mean little. This time I made sure I got the improved part of the clinch knot and walked back to the water.

A few casts and I had another little trout and it was really little and danced and spit the fly out and flashed me a naughty little sign with its tail as it sped back into the cold water. I stood there happy as I could be. The water pushed against my legs, the green leaves of spring created a tunnel and the rocks gave patterns and flow to the cold creek. Totally present. Nothing else existed…just Nature and me and there wasn’t even separation between us. It was just beauty coexisting with all life.

Eventually the sound of rushing water called me upstream and so I carefully waded. One thing I am learning is that wading in this fast-moving water is an art, a carefully choregraphed dance with the elements.

There was a nice series of areas with flat, smooth water where I knew trout were hanging out. I felt it. In the distance I saw a large rock and deep pool and so I gradually worked my way toward that sweet spot. It had a little rapid above so the water was well-oxygenated, the big rocks and deep pool offered protection and it was freaking beautiful. What trout wouldn’t live there?

As I carefully approached, I checked for overhead trees and gazed into that clear, deep, cold water…You are coming to me. I spoke those words, prepared for a rolling cast…another one…one more a bit closer to the rock and BAM! I mean BAMBAMBAM! This was a big trout. My Jedi trout had arrived.

The fish fought and leaped out of the water and I was squealing with delight and wondering how the heck I would land this monster. I mean…compared to the seven inch one…this guy had major muscle and knew what to do. These are wild trout, not hatchery raised here. I kept hearing the guide I went fishing with a few weeks ago in my head….Keep your rod tip up…swing it around to you. I got him (or her) into the shallow area around my feet and he took off again but stayed in a little pool. I bent down and kept him in the water as I gently held him…he needed a bit more than a gentle grip, but I finally got him to calm down, took a quick photo of him in the water and threw my phone on the shore. Then I removed the hook from his upper lip and relaxed my grip a bit but kept him there for a moment to recover from the fight and hook removal. Then he was ready to swim off and did so with a relaxed little shuffle back to his lair, to the pool and cold, deep water.

I estimated him to be at least 12 inches in length and quite a beautiful rainbow trout. He initiated me into what it means to fly fish…to stalk, to be patient, to react quickly, to handle a fish with care and keep it in the water while removing the hook (did I mention it was barbless? All my hooks are barbless). It was like the teacher showed up and I was ready…a humble student with an open mind. I always begin the excursion with this little request…teach me today wise trout. Help me learn about this magnificent place.

After that I felt ready to go home. Nothing else could top that experience. I looked at my watch…over two hours had passed but I had no idea…such was the state of bliss in which I found myself. 

I secured my line and gear and headed for the trail up from the rocky shore. As I stepped up, a white-tailed deer stood within twenty feet of me—watching, wondering, eating. I slowly unzipped the chest pocket on my waders and removed my phone. I took a few photographs and waited for her to decide what she wanted to do. It felt like I was in a magical realm that was rich with possibility. I half expected a bear to waltz out or Yeti to invite me for cocktails. It was a bit surreal.

I knew from the beginning that fly fishing was more—much more—than the fish. I’m finding it one of the most enriching experiences of my life…and I’ve had some amazing experiences diving in caves, the ocean, with whales and dolphins and manatees. This is something I can do where I live and it takes me into the most amazing place of peace and satisfaction with life. I feel myself sinking deeper into the rhythm of Nature each time I go. Every time I wade that creek, our friendship deepens. 

Besides the amazing beauty, a mystery was revealed today—my Jedi Trout Master is a Rainbow. I will always remember that pouty mouth, the tiny copper-john fly shining on his upper lip and the moment he became calm in my hand and allowed me to carefully remove the hook and set him free. Wild, wonderful Rainbow Jedi…thank you, teacher.