Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt
John Muir
“You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day! Your mountain is waiting, so… get on your way!”
Dr.Seuss
Life is a funny riddle, to be lived, not necessarily solved. From Waterrock Knob’s empty parking lot ( 5719 feet) I’m perched on an outcropping, drinking ice tea, overlooking the Nantahala National Forest (pic above). The surrounding Frasier firs, “he-balsams,” release that Christmas scent of citrus mixed with wood and earth. Yuletide on the last days of summer. The blue ridges of the Balsam Range extend to the southern horizon. With each mountainous fold, the broad evergreen valleys narrowed until only the blue ridges lingered. A paler blue tint paints each succeeding ridge until at last the sky and mountain merged into a hazy wash of baby blue (pic below).
I peeled an orange as thunder clouds rumbled across the Blue Ridge Mountains to my left. The storm funneled through Balsam Gap (3,370′), eight miles away and 2,400 feet below this knob. Due West the Great Smoky Mountains rise into a second oncoming storm, fast approaching Oconaluftee,NC. What a dynamic and panoramic view for a climbing fool, a billy goat, an Oldognewtrek.
But timing is everything. I am waiting for the lightning storm to pass through Balsam Gap, before the oncoming downpour hits Waterrock Knob (pic above).
I climbed over five thousand vertical feet today (pic above). The Subaru was parked on Rt. 23, Balsam Gap eight miles down hill from Waterrock Knob (mile marker 451.2). My uphill trekking for the day was complete and the knob afforded a masterful view of primeval forest and encroaching storms. After the tea break I would weave down the Blue Ridge to the car. We kept an eye on the thunderstorm to the South. Gnome boy kept repeating, “Don’t bolt! It would be shocking for Mariah to rain on your parade.” “Dad jokes” electrify him now.
In September 2018, Judy and I visited her older brother Bill Cooke at his mountain retreat in Waynesville, NC (pic above). He is a conservative republican and Judy a liberal democrat. He could not tolerate Louisville’s cold winter when he moved to Tallahassee and she doesn’t enjoy the summer heat. Bill raised German Shepards while Judy fostered alley cats. It was hard to find common ground for the retired dentist and pathologist. But the Blue Ridge Mountains changed all that. Last year we witnessed the August solar eclipse together (pic below). The Blue Ridges put a spell on them.
While they reconnected, I had three days to ride from Balsam Overlook (mile 431.4) to Cherokee, NC (mile 470) and back, a total of eighty miles. Over three dogged days I trekked 9,000 feet of vertical climb and reached the highest altitude (pic below) on the Blue Ridge Parkway (6,053ft). Once completed I had ridden Skyline Drive and the Blue Ridge Parkway down and back. The combined one way length of the Blue Ridge Parkway and Skyline Drive is 575 miles with 57,722ft of vertical climb.
Pinnacle Ridge remains the most prominent ridge visible from Bill’s front porch. It guards Balsam Gap and guides Rt. 23 southwest from Waynesville to Sylva. The Blue Ridge Parkway cuts an 813 foot tunnel through Pinnacle Ridge east of the gap at 4400 feet. Cold Mountain (6030′) looms five miles due east of Waynesville. Both the city and mountain were visible as I weaved up and around the ridges to Balsam Gap Overlook. This encompassing view of land and sky created by Unetlanvhi, has been sacred to the Cherokee Nation.
My morning ride from Balsam Gap to the highest point on the Blue Ridge Parkway (mile mark 431.4) exceeded 3500 feet of vertical climbing (pic below), and a distance of twelve miles. The trek up was almost three hours and the race down was less than thirty minutes. After a lunch break at the car, I trekked two thousand vertical feet and eight miles to Waterrock Knob. The afternoon heat and humidity increased, not decreased with the higher altitude. Isolated rain showers mushroomed in the distance. I marveled at the lighting storm directly in front, but raced back to the car when Great Thunder and his two sons, Thunder Boys, rolled by ominously . As you might guess, I caught the tail end of the storm blowing through Balsam Gap.
Gnome boy reminded me, “In to every Gnome’s life a little rain must fall.” He paused for a minute, still protected by the front bike bag, “Did it hurt like hail?” In the Cherokee Nation he is called Little people a group of spiritual beings, very small with very long hair. They are invisible except when they wished to be seen. Although they possess healing powers and helpful hints, the Little People are not to be disturbed. If you bother the Little People too often you will become confused in your day-to-day life.
On day two I parked the car at Saco Gap (4,340) and rode 6 miles and 1400 vertical feet to Waterrock Knob. After returning downhill to Soco Gap I trekked up the blue ridges to Jenkins Ridge Overlook (4,488′) and stopped at the Big Witch Tunnel (pic of map above). The total distance was twenty miles. Afterwards, Judy, Bill and I went sightseeing and enjoyed the afternoon. They recalled Christmas presents opened long ago . I could smell the surrounding Frasier firs.
Before dawn on the third day (pic above) I drove to the Oconaluftee Visitor Center, the southern terminus of the Parkway (2020′) and the southern entrance to Smoky Mountains National Park. After a fiery sunrise created by Unetlanvhi the National Park was cloudy, cool and without Unole. They call the wind Unole in Cherokee (Tsalagi). We rode ten miles back to the Big Witch Tunnel, a vertical climb of 2,500′.
The selfie below was taken outside the tunnel with the ascent complete and only the ten mile descent remaining to complete the Parkway. I kept singing the Los Lonely Boys, “How far is Heaven?” off key of course. Before racing downhill I thanked the “maker of all things”for allowing me to trek through the Cherokee’s sacred Land. I also remain indebted to the Spirits who intertwined “their world” with my mundane way of living. “Wado.”
Like siblings’ love for each other, marriage is a funny riddle to be lived not necessarily understood. After 40 years together, Judy and I enjoy different activities, viewpoints and goals. I continue traveling while she gardens and cultivates cats at home. Opposites do attract. With the added perspective of each new year, our timeworn lives recycle at the horizon where mountains merge with the heavens.
To answer nature’s paradox, How are the sky and the mountains similar? You just need to see that the wild blue yonder and the blue ridges dissolve into the same tint of baby blues (pic below).
If that’s not nice I don’t know a Pair of Docs when i see them
So on down the road this dad jokes