The Magic & Mystery of Savannah

I’ve always wanted to visit Savannah. Without knowing anything about the city, what drew me there was the image of Spanish moss hanging lazily from the twisted limbs of live oak trees. I can’t remember the first time I saw a picture of the famous drive at Wormsloe Plantation, but it was love at first sight and I knew I had to see it in person.

With Thanksgiving flights being astronomically expensive, Rob and I opted to visit family early and do friendsgiving with one of my best friends in the whole world. Ashley and I have spent so many Thanksgivings together we’ve actually lost count…it hovers around 7 or 8, at least half the years we’ve been friends, so it was a happy reunion that brought us to Savannah, the halfway point for each of us to drive.

There are so many things that contribute to Savannah’s charm and mystery. Perhaps it’s the fact that the city is utterly secluded in the middle of nowhere. We passed miles of nondescript cotton fields on a straight road with no gas stations that seemed to drag on into infinity, and suddenly we were there. A bridge loomed in the distance as we took the exit toward the square where we’d rented an apartment. We rounded one bend and there they were, the live oaks, hovering protectively over streets bedecked with historic brownstones and homes, trendy restaurants tucked away on small corners, sounds of horses clip clopping past, evoking memories of days gone by. As soon as we saw the place, I loved it.

The city is by no means overwhelming, and with 3 full days, plus travel days, we all felt that we had thoroughly explored and “done” Savannah. I left feeling like I had checked off a bucket list item, not sure when I would return. There are many places I travel where I feel an immediate sense of place, a fervent desire to intimately know the ins and outs and to return until I feel like I understand it. I did not feel this way with Savannah. Perhaps it’s the history, the knowledge that the current beauty of the squares with their blooming camelias, sparkling fountains, and towering statues belies a dark past where humans were bought and sold in the slave trade. For all of the city’s elegance and southern grace, a darkness hovers.

I won’t keep you in suspense. My favorite part of this trip without contest was Wormsloe Plantation.  There are no buildings to tour, no grand plantation home with columns for miles…there is a drive flanked by the most incredible trees I’ve ever seen.  I have stood beneath the redwoods and the giant sequoias, but the live oaks at Wormsloe spoke to my soul.  I can’t imagine the history these trees have witnessed, the stories they could tell.  The $10 entrance fee is literally so you can drive down a mile long road and just gape in wonder at these marvelous creations. I pretty much lost my mind. I mean, I hike in forests and adore the woods, but these trees were something else.  I still get a little giddy feeling inside while writing this and thinking about how stunning they are.

  Once you get to the end of the drive, there is a small visitor center with a video about the history of the property.  You can follow a short trail that takes you through some woods to the original site of the plantation home, which is a modest, tiny plot where the walls are crumbling.  The only reason to go there is for the live oaks.  Go.  It’s worth it.

We also explored two cemeteries, and one of them was much better than the other.  The famous Bonaventure Cemetery is quite lovely, but the scale is massive and specific graves are very hard to find.  We did purchase a map for a small donation, which was helpful.  The interesting thing for us was that we went here after we’d learned a lot about the history of Savannah, so visiting specific graves and knowing who those people were and how they contributed to the area made it more significant. If we had just gone there to walk around not knowing who any of those people were, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

The cemetery that we all loved best though was the one right in the center of town, the Colonial Park Cemetery.  The property is only 6 acres, and the best part is that certain graves of historical significance are marked with large plaques describing who is buried there and what their history consists of.  Very helpful for us out-of-towners who didn’t know who these folks were.  There was a signer of the Declaration of Independence in there and all sorts of folks who fought in various revolutions…lots of history and more lovely trees tinseled with moss.

Since we were so close to the coast we took trips to both Hilton Head and Tybee Island.  Hilton Head is a golf lover’s paradise, full of resorts that are private.  Good luck getting a glimpse of the ocean.  We visited the lighthouse which was hidden behind some shops and called it a day.

I was really interested in seeing the Tybee Island lighthouse though and it turned out to be the only thing on Tybee worth seeing.  Admission to the lighthouse also gets you into the old fort across the street and there are lots of interesting things to see and read.  You can climb to the top of the lighthouse for a lovely view of the sea, which is pretty much the only way you’ll get a decent view because everything is built up along the coast.  Our impression of the island is that it’s a summer tourist destination.

Back in Savannah, we went to the Mercer Williams House because we wanted to see where the famed story of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil was based.  While the tour was interesting and we learned a lot, if specific questions hadn’t been asked by folks on the tour, our guide never would have mentioned anything from the book.  It was rather disappointing.  The guide also spoke so quickly and pointed out the many rare and fabulous antiquities with such violent speed that we barely had time to register what he was saying before we were being beckoned into the next room.  I wanted to look at everything in the house, really take it in, but the tour did not lend itself to that.  It’s a money-making scheme built on a book they don’t even mention, meant to shove you in, shove you out, and good day to you.  There were original works of art, furniture, china, and all sorts of rare trinkets that were curated by a man with style, taste, and an eye for the unique.  The house is a museum, except one is not allowed to dawdle.  You may glimpse, but you may not gaze.

We also managed to see all 22 of the city’s lovely squares.  Each one has its own character, some are grand, some are humble, all are worth walking through.  Forsyth Park is a beautiful green space with a striking fountain at its center. We walked the length of the park, turning around at the big fat confederate statue and calling it a day. Aside from being a pretty space, there wasn’t anything particular about the park that is a must-see.

Cathedral of St. John The Baptist is a formidable place of worship that combines all the things I love about Catholic churches, lovely stained glass windows, soaring ceilings, lots of Mary, and the quiet reverence of the sacred.

The only disappointment and the one thing we did not get to see was the First African Baptist Church due to it being closed. In a city whose past was shaped by slaves, it would have been nice to pay homage to a church whose place in history was a stop on the Underground Railroad.

This city with its old glamor cast a spell over us while we were there. The loveliness remains in spite of its turbulent past, like an antique chandelier where the crystal still sparkles through the dust if the light is just so…

Stowe Pinnacle

Stowe, Vermont: Pinnacle Of Perfection & Smugglers’ Notch

STOWE PINNACLE TRAIL

Today was so full of goodness I have no idea how to sum it up. It started out with a big breakfast at McCarthy’s in town, then we headed to the Stowe Pinnacle Trail.

A friend had recommended this as an easy 3.3 mile out and back that takes you up to a spectacular view of the mountains and surrounding countryside. We thought, “Sure, 1551 ft of elevation gain, 3.3 miles…no problem!”  Not being used to the severe elevation gain that happens on trails in the northeast, the hike kicked our asses. In the Smokies where we’re used to hiking, the ascents are gradual and slow, like many things in the South.  Gaining 3,000 feet takes several miles of steady uphill walking.  Here in Vermont, my body struggled to climb huge stone steps and grab onto nearby trees just to haul myself up the inclines that have no mercy on those who enjoy craft beer and VT cheddar fritters. Oh cruel calories, how you slow my ascents!! Sounding like a 76 year old smoker trying to gasp air through a straw, I continued upward…

We were welcomed to the trail by its two guardians.  That day just happened to be the day we were chosen as their hiking companions. We later found out that they are the “trail dogs” who live nearby and know these woods like the back of their paws.

The floor of the forest was covered in lush green ferns and autumn’s earliest, candy apple red sugar maple leaves.

Everything was damp and slick from the rain so we used extreme caution with every step. My biggest fear on this trip has been getting an injury since this was the week before I went on the 131 mile EverWalk from Boston to Maine. As we struggled up for what seemed like miles, we came to a sign that said the summit was .65 miles away and the sad realization that we’d only done one measly mile sunk in.  ONE MILE!!!  One mile and about a thousand vertical feet.

It became even steeper near the top with pools of muddy water and tree roots growing over every exposed rock face. When we reached the summit, all the breathlessness of the previous exertion fell away as it was replaced with breathless wonder at the landscape below. Farm fields and forests dotted with rustic red barns, small homesteads, and mighty peaks lay in the cloud covered distance. The winds blew cold and the nip of autumn stung our cheeks and chilled our sweat soaked bodies. We broke out the puffy jackets we’d reluctantly brought with us.

Our trail companions went up the entire way with us and laid down to nap when we arrived.  I was watching these dogs look out at the scenery with such contentment on their faces, and it made me realize that animals must appreciate beauty too.  The big one sat staring off into the distance and I couldn’t help but wonder if his soul was also being refreshed by what he saw.  What on earth would motivate these animals to hike this trail everyday? As we headed back down they fearlessly led the way and waited for our tired bodies to follow.

We met a local on her way up.  She asked where we were from and asked how we’d liked the trail.  We told her how tough it seemed, and our faces crumbled as she got a confused look on her face and told us that she usually runs it, but today she was walking because of the slippery conditions.  Excuse me while I go drink another beer and eat some more cheese.

I would absolutely hike this trail again.  The payoff is huge, and even though the trail is a challenge to those unused to northeastern terrain, it’s a great way to experience Stowe.

SMUGGLERS’ NOTCH

We drove down the road through Smugglers’ Notch, which is probably the most gorgeous state park I’ve ever seen. The resort there was smaller than the Stowe Mountain Resort, but still impressive. We stopped at the trailhead for Sterling Pond, a short 1.1 mile hike each way that gains 1000 feet in elevation…in 1.1 miles. I mean, shoot me. As much as I wanted to hike until my legs fell off, I knew I needed to save my body for Everwalk, so we opted not to do it.  I really want to go back and explore this area a lot more.  The Long Trail goes through here and the views and terrain are really epic.

Even though we didn’t get to hike as much as we usually do on this trip, we were able to get to know the area a bit and really get a feel for what we want to do on a return trip.  Stowe is so much more than a skiing mecca, it’s an outdoor adventure land.

Mount Mansfield Gondola

Enjoying The Sights And Tastes Of Stowe, Vermont

Tonight as I sit here writing, trying to relive this trip in all it’s loveliness, I am missing Vermont more than ever.  There is simply no way for me to adequately describe the love I have for that state.  It is the place that gave me a taste for adventure, a love of frogs and salamanders, and an introduction to the mountains.  Vermont also has a copious amount of farms that produce incredible cheese and fresh produce.  Autumn is second to none among the peaks of the Green Mountains.  When I was growing up, our stomping grounds were in the southern part of the state – Arlington, Manchester, Shaftsbury, Weston, Grafton, Chester, Townsend – so when friends in Burlington were getting married, Rob and I made a trip out of it and spent some time in Stowe, which I’d never been to before.  To say I fell hard for that little town is an understatement.

Stowe has a really lovely recreation path that wends its way through town.  You can walk, bike or run from town all the way up to the ski resorts.  We didn’t have enough time to really explore it, but it was one of the activities that was mentioned repeatedly at local spots.

GOLDEN EAGLE RESORT & DOC PONDS

We stayed at the Golden Eagle Resort, which is old and in the process of being updated under new ownership. Our bathroom had wallpaper peeling off the walls and was horribly outdated, but the rest of the room seemed to be new.  There were maintenance trucks around the property, so hopefully within a year or two, they’ll have fully remodeled the place.  The price point was right for us and the location was really convenient to everything in town.

The owner suggested some places to eat, so we headed to Doc Ponds for dinner and drinks, which absolutely exceeded our expectations and was delicious in every way. Local beers and VT cheddar fritters were our downfall at this place.  When we came back to the resort, I made Rob go on an early evening adventure on the trails behind the resort.  I say I made him go because it was getting dark, the weather was less than awesome, and we’d had a long travel day already.  The things we do for love. The trails are a complete mess of a maze, make no sense at all, are numbered erratically, and were entirely frustrating to figure out. We eventually decided to just stick with one number and take it to a an overlook. The trail had us traipsing through fern covered forest floor as the evening mist settled in and it was absolutely enchanting.

We came upon a small clearing with a ski lift chair that would have been the most romantic place to sit  if it wasn’t all soaked and dripping from the rain. Soft ridgelines could be seen as the breeze blew the clouds apart, revealing mountains in the distance.

As we headed back I kept hearing things in the woods that I was sure were wildlife of some sort that was going to jump out at us, and finally when we reached the trailhead sign, Rob heard it too. Somewhere in the woods beyond the sign we heard large branches cracking as though a heavy creature was trampling through there with no concern for silence. We couldn’t see a thing, which was maddening, and we kept creeping further in on the trail to try and spot what was making the racket, and suddenly all was still and it stopped immediately. Our best guess is that we heard a bear, a moose, or an ROUS (rodent of unusual size). One can never be certain.

GREEN MOUNTAIN INN

Later that night we headed out for an evening drive on the hunt for dessert. We ended up at the Whip Bar & Grill, a cozy restaurant swathed in comforting dark wood inside the historic Green Mountain Inn. The place makes you feel like you’ve stepped back in time. There were photographs on the walls showing the history of Stowe and the inn. I had maple crème brûlée. I think at one point I was sitting there in rapturous joy and Rob knew I’d really gone off the rails this time. One can never take for granted the loveliness of a moment comprised of sitting at a table in a historic inn in the middle of Vermont eating maple crème brûlée. If you miss this, you are missing out on life.

STOWE MOUNTAIN RESORT & MOUNT MANSFIELD

The Stowe Mountain Resort is a formidable ski resort, one of the best in the world, recently purchased by Vail Resorts. Not being familiar with the world of skiing, we had no idea the breadth and scope of the place. The day we were there, the top of Mount Mansfield was invisible beneath the clouds.  We decided to throw down $26 apiece for some gondola tickets, and as soon as we headed up the mountain, realized they were worth every penny. The views from the top of Mt. Mansfield are among some of the best I’ve ever seen and I was sad we didn’t get to hike it, but elated to be up there all at the same time. We ate in the restaurant up top, enjoying some soup and hot drinks before exploring a bit up there.

We stood on the platform above the zipline and watched two pairs of people zip off over the trees into an abyss of Green Mountain forest. The zipline is the longest one in North America and it looked AWESOME. We were dying because we wanted to do it so badly. The tickets are no bargain at $131 apiece, but we decided on our next trip, we’d plan to fly over the treetops.

I didn’t want to leave the mountaintop. We were there, soaking it all in, and I just kept thinking, oh my God, I get to live and experience things like this. What greater blessing than this could exist? And to be there with Rob who I love most in the world, surrounded by nature, another love of my life, was so special and I didn’t want it to be lost on me in that moment.

We headed back down in the gondola and took a second gondola over to the resort itself which looked like a ghost town awaiting an onslaught of activity in just a few weeks. The place is beautiful, a playground for the wealthy who can not only afford to stay there, but afford to pay for the lift tickets, ski equipment, and boutique shops that dot the property. I fell in love with a $1295 jacket that was on sale for half off, but even at $650, I couldn’t justify it.  But it was so cute…I still think about it.

WATERBURY, VT – BEN & JERRY’S, CABOT, COLD HOLLOW CIDER MILL, GREEN MOUNTAIN CLUB

Ice cream was next on the itinerary, so we headed to Ben & Jerry’s. Visiting the factory and taking the tour was very…touristy. The most interesting things we learned were about the sustainability of the operation and how they support the agricultural economy in the area by using only local, ethically raised, dairy products in their ice cream. At least we can say we’ve done it once. I think it would be fun for families with kids.

Then on to Cabot where we stocked up on hard maple candies and an insane amount of cheese we can’t buy in the stores at home. Their selection is vast, samples abound, and we’ve never regretted spending the money to support the co-op of farmers that comprise Cabot.  We brought a flat rate postage box with us and shipped an anvil’s worth of cheese back to ourselves at home so we can enjoy the taste of Vermont for hopefully another year. We made sure to stop at the Cold Hollow Cider Mill where Rob got a half dozen cider donuts and hot cider, and I almost threw up because we hadn’t stopped eating in forever. They have adorable pet bunnies that munch on the lawn there.

I couldn’t leave the area without stopping in at the Green Mountain Club.  This organization stewards the Long Trail, America’s oldest long distance hiking trail. They have conservation programs, educational workshops, and are a wealth of information on hiking in the area.  The visitor center sells books, tees, maps, and other items that support the organization.  I picked up an official Long Trail Guide for some light reading and future scheming on the way home.  On the same side of the road, right near the GMC there is an incredible coffee place called the Vermont Artisan Coffee & Tea Co.  They make a maple latte that is to die for.

LOST NATION BREWERY & THE BLUE STONE

We headed back into Stowe and went to the general store and decided to go to Lost Nation Brewery for dinner since it was so highly recommended by a local. It sucked. Out of the 10 beers they offer on tap, they were out of 4 of them. The food was mediocre at best, and it wasn’t a welcoming environment. Not terrible, but not somewhere I’d recommend based on our experience there.

However, we made up for the sad dinner the previous night at The Blue Stone in Waterbury.  Not only are the pizzas outstanding, but the poutine is everything you could possibly hope for this side of the Canadian border.  They offer a really respectable selection of craft beers, and the few times we’ve been here have been a home run every single visit.  Needless to say, the only way to work off this type of food consumption is by hiking up the nearest hill.

TRAPP FAMILY LODGE & BREWERY

One place I wanted to make sure we stopped was the Trapp Family Lodge.  The Von Trapp family story was made famous in The Sound Of Music, but many of the books I’ve read about the family tell how disappointed they were in the film and its portrayal of their history.  I would encourage anyone who is interested to read some of the books that tell the real story.  The lodge looks Austrian from the outside, and there isn’t a whole lot to see on the inside if you’re not staying there.  We enjoyed the lovely view of the mountains over the cow fields, and then walked downstairs from the lobby to look at some family photos hung on the wall.

We ended up stopping at the brewery on the way out, which was a pleasant surprise and one of the few places in town where you can find a dark beer.  Vermonters really love their bitter IPAs.  We met a woman at the bar who used to live here and was visiting because she missed it so much.  She talked about how it was really difficult to make a living here because many of the jobs are seasonal, and people will often have two or three jobs to make ends meet.  This is a familiar story.  So many of the truly beautiful places where we travel are made up of residents toughing it out because they hold a deep, strong love for the land where they live.  Life isn’t necessarily easy in those locales even though the serenity of the scenery would suggest otherwise.  In Stowe, it’s very easy to see how the town and all the resorts rely on the wealth of visitors to keep the economy alive.  September was a really great time to visit because town was quiet and we didn’t experience a crowd anywhere we went.  Some trees in the mountains were starting to show hints of color, and I would imagine in a few weeks the place would be a bustling hub of leaf peeping activity.

As we headed back to the resort, full of all the good things a trip like this could hold, I felt immensely grateful for every second of it. Life is short, far too short, and there are and infinite amount of lovely places in this world to experience. I want to squeeze all the goodness out of every one of them as much as I possibly can and remember them on the days when I’m tied to my desk, looking out my office window, daydreaming about the next adventure.

Great Smoky Mountains National Park

GSMNP: Embarrassing Camping FAIL, Walking Cades Cove Loop, Finding Avent Cabin, & Clingman’s Dome Sunset

Welp. I was that guy this morning in the campground. I was so proud of myself for waking up at 5am in the pitch blackness of still-night. I got out of bed even though it was drizzling and I could hear large drops on my tent, plop…plop…ploploplop. I went back and forth on it. Should I sleep longer and hope the weather improved? I ended up envisioning the sunrise over Cades Cove and that got me going. I quietly opened my tent, tiptoed to the bathroom, and opened the car to get food. I also quietly made my breakfast. However, when I went to quietly open my trunk to put everything away, my car apparently thought it was being broken into and the loudest of all horns that was ever horn-y SLICED through the dark with a SCREAM of terror to everyone in this poor campground

HONK HONK HONK OHMYGODHOWDOISHUTTHISOFF??? HONK HONK WHYISN’TTHEPANICBUTTONWORKING??? IAMPANICKING!!!! HONK HONK…

I don’t know how many times it took my shaking fingers to finally press whatever special button needed to be pressed, but the shame and mortification of destroying the predawn peace was immense. My first solo camping trip and I put a blinking bullseye on my tent that screams “amateur.” I quickly got in the car, started it up (I mean, by this time all my neighbors were awake anyway), and got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I ate my disgusting oatmeal on the way to Cades Cove, gagging it down, knowing I needed to eat before walking 11 miles. It was drizzling and totally dark, not even a glimmer of light yet. I kept thinking, “Why am I doing this?” I got to the Cove and parked near the campground store. There were some volunteers in the parking lot getting their bikes ready as the day started reluctantly with a sickening gray ebb of light. I gathered everything I needed in my daypack and put my shoes on slowly, hoping the morning would brighten and the drizzle would stop.

            When I started toward the loop, I made a left turn to go the opposite way and walk it backwards because I thought the solitude would be nice. The woods are so dark when it rains. The road was quiet and I was hemmed in by jagged looking trees, so my brave self got freaked out and turned around to go the usual way that everyone else was going. I could not be more happy that I did this. Volunteers were friendly and said hello, people were zipping past on bikes. I passed another woman alone walking her dogs. My rain jacket kept the morning mist off of my clothes and the air was cool enough so I didn’t feel too warm. As I came up to the point where the John Oliver cabin is, I passed a volunteer and we started talking. She was a delightfully sassy woman from New Jersey who happened to be a Hike The Smokies member. We talked about hiking and her volunteering with the park for 5 years as she picked up trash along the way.  Eventually we parted and I continued on.

            The morning continued to brighten into day and I started to feel giddy. Bikes kept whizzing past, volunteers called out cheerier hellos, and there was this feeling of owning the place with no cars coming down the road. It was, in a word, glorious. I found myself stopping and taking pictures and just meandering at my own pace, loving every second of it. I rounded a curve in the road and saw a group of people and some neon shirts. A volunteer told me there were bears in a tree. BEARS IN A TREE!!! I was so freaking excited because I haven’t ever seen bears in a tree before and this was awesome. It was a mother bear and a cub up in a wild cherry tree, just tearing that tree to bits to get every little cherry they could stuff in their adorable faces.

The baby was really agile, like a little chimp. I couldn’t believe what a crazy climber he was. I don’t know how long I stood there watching them, but it was a while. I didn’t want to leave because how often does one get to watch bears in a tree eating cherries?! But I eventually headed on after taking an embarrassing amount of pictures.

The sun kept fighting with the clouds and finally won. Just like that, the Cove was awash in sunlight. Thank goodness for bathrooms halfway. Some of the bikers asked if I was walking and said I was “doing great.” I left there and headed over to the little cemetery you can see from the visitor center. It’s the Cable family. I didn’t realize Cable was the family that the little mill is named after. Something new to learn every time.

            I kept walking and ended up coming to pass another woman walking by herself. After stopping at another cabin to check it out and relish the experience of being there alone, I headed back out and started to pass her again when she asked about my Pstyle of all things! So we started talking and she said she’s planning to hike the AT in 2019 when she turns 50 and she’s getting in shape for it. So I asked if she was part of the AT Women’s Group and sure enough she was and she recognized my name. Well she and I walked the last 3 miles together, talking all the way about hiking and women’s health issues, and changing careers. We saw another bear along the way in the woods. When I finished the walk I just felt like I’d had such a special experience and somehow I wasn’t alone. God had placed some people along the way to walk with me and still given me incredible moments of joy by myself. I was so excited. I ended up driving the loop because I didn’t want it to end. Walking the Cove is by far the best way to experience all that area has to offer. I headed into town to get some lunch and call Rob before deciding where to go next.

            After town, I headed back to Elkmont and decided to hike to the Avent Cabin because I’d read about Mayna in the Women of the Smokies book. She was an artist and had a cabin off the Jakes Creek Trail. The trail to her place is unmarked so after finding some information online and using my pacer to figure out where the unmarked trail my actually be, I was able to spot it after going down one wrong trail and having to hike all the way back up. Ugh. Once again, I was totally alone in this part of the woods and as beautiful as that cabin was and as lovely as it was to cross the little bridge and see where Mayna used to live, I got a little freaked out.

You can walk in the cabin, but it’s weird to be alone in the woods with some vacant old cabin…once again, the horror stories we tell ourselves. So I headed back and was so excited I’d found the place.

            After that, I headed back to the campsite to cook my gross chili that didn’t dehydrate well. With just enough time, I headed out to the visitor center to check on some phone stuff before going up to Clingman’s Dome for sunset. I’ve always wanted to do this and I’m so glad that I didn’t decide to just stay in for the night. Today I was able to wake before the sun rose and then to watch it set in all its blazing glory over the mountains. And what a show it put on. I sat there for about an hour and waited for it to go down, watching the mountains change from green to deep blue to purple…it’s a sight I want to remember forever. All the photographers were out there trying to capture what can never be fully experienced through a photo. On the way back there was one last viewing spot where the sky was ablaze with orange, red, yellow, pink, purple….all the hues of a sunset that was just as lovely as some of the prettiest ones I’ve seen on Long Island.

            Tonight when I got back I was getting myself ready for bed and started to brush my hair. My dry, tangled, damaged hair that is turning gray on me and falling out due to hormonal changes. I have felt decidedly unfeminine on this trip. I don’t know why. There is something about being out here that makes me just not care about that, but at the same time I had this moment when I was brushing my hair and thinking about it. What defines who a woman is? Have I bought into so much of society’s pressure that when I’m at home in my usual habitat I’ve lost sight of what it means to live, to adventure, to be a woman? Has what I’ve done out here made me any less of a woman, or has it strengthened who I am as a woman?

I realized some things on this trip:

  • I do tell myself horror stories and I can consciously work to reverse these false tales when I am in the middle of them.
  • I can work through my fear to reach my destination.
  • As introverted as I am, I do like being around people and am not an isolationist. Having those two women to walk with and talk to today in Cades Cove was life affirming for me.
  • Nature is truly my happy place, even if it scares me sometimes.
  • I can camp alone.
  • I hate oatmeal.
  • In listening to podcasts and even in conversations I’ve had, there is a tug happening somewhere inside of me. It feels like a tug toward new things and I have no idea where it will lead. It scares me, this tug. It is the unknown. I think I have to continue following my heart.
  • You can never have too many pairs of socks.
  • Thru hiking must be the hardest thing a person can do – mentally, physically, everything. I try to think how I would handle falling into a stream on a thru hike and having everything get wet, or camping through nights and nights of rain, or having to eat shitty food and still end up hungry. I don’t know how I would handle any of it because I like my creature comforts.
  • I need a better camera.