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Deeper into the wild arenas of the Smoky Mountains we walked, further and further away from civilizations, cars, cares, and worries. Certainly, without civilization, nature would be a master of whom we would be completely at mercy. We would be reliant on her whims, on her moods, with no manmade contraptions to at least give the illusion of keeping her at bay. We would see the woods only in terms of the food and shelter it would provide, or in some cases, not provide. We would see the birds and other animals as pure competitors for the berries and other sustenance. We would not see them as the decorations as they were, the symbol of returning to a forgotten nature, and they would not be harmony. But because we lived in a world dominated by civilization and we were only visitors here, we could see them as the representatives of beauty that we imagined them to be. That being said, we proceeded along the trails that wound about like a labyrinth in the woods, packing themselves in this as far as we could see. It was like we had transported ourselves in a world where we trees were the dominate species, and we were puny characters in their story by comparison. Heat and humidity baked the air around us, constricting our airspace. There was no air conditioning to mitigate the circumstances, so our only choice was to conform to nature's conditions and slow down to the pace that she dictated. Heavier our steps became as the heat increased, along with our fatigue. Altitude seemed to rise, and the hills that we encountered seemed like mountains. Nature was concocting a stew, and we were some of the ingredients in a recipe born of her spontaneity. Of course, like good hikers, we had come at least somewhat prepared. We had water with us, some food, and a phone. Underneath our clothes, we were wearing bathing suits, in case we found a good watering hole to cool off in. We did have a GPS, but it was in our notebook computer stuffed under our mattress in our van, so the old reliable compass would just have to do. Which was a good thing, because even though the sun was out, we weren't exactly tracking it. In my case, I trusted the trail and the technology I had. I don't know if that was a good strategy or not, but I was keeping my eye on the trail, the heat making each step an effort. Making sure our dog MacGyver didn't wrap his leash around a tree in his excitement made the exertion that much more intense. But I loved every minute of it. This kind of intensity felt great, which is an oblique way of saying I was having a blast. Maybe to a person who isn't much of an outdoor enthusiast, the idea of sweating away on a trail sounds like sheer folly and nonsense. Why go through all of this insanity when an air-conditioned vehicle was less than three miles away from here? Go to a hotel with a pool, immerse yourself in the blessedness of cold water splashing all over you.... Oh, wait. That was me thinking that. Man, I was getting hot. Don't get me wrong, the blast part was definitely part of it. I enjoyed the feeling of shutting out all the stimuli and clutter that contained daily life as I was out here on the trail. I loved the feeling of fresh air, and the sensation of feeling larger and expanded by being in a world that was beyond the confines of four walls. I loved seeing life beyond humans, domestic animals and lawns trained and trimmed. But I was hot. And having roving thoughts about people who would rather sit by the pool was beginning to concoct my own fantasies about water rushing over me. Gulping water down my gullet was not quenching my thirst. Where the heck were these running streams that my National Park book insisted upon the existence of? Then it happened. It first came upon us through sound, a whispering that spoke in a decibel more consistent and of a different tenor than the breeze conversing through the trees. Our path, which had seemed like an endless maze through an arboretum, now brought us directly to a stream that raged and roared. It was as though I had cast some wish upon the whims of nature, and she in her graciousness complied with my desires. Seeing it now didn't even feel real. More like an imagination, I had to walk closer to it to discover if I wasn't even imagining it. But it was real. The air was different, cooler and smelling with the dampness that came with land seeping underneath the weight of rushing water. The breeze that had been languishing in the heat now came alive in the light of a cool stream, just as we did now. A respite provided along the way, we took advantage of this rest stop, and went towards the water to take our fill its fresh coolness. I readied myself to meet the water. The sun and the warmth of the air provided deception as I waded through the rapids, for here in May in Tennessee, the water rushed around me like icicles come alive. Instantly, the heat I felt turned into a numbing freeze, as the meltwater from dying snow rushed around me in my summer beach attire. But its rush sunk into me like a deep salve as I my body drunk up its glory. Man, I never thought feeling frozen felt so good. The last couple days of sweat were finally washed away. Quickie washes in rest areas had nothing on this experience. If the trip ended today, I would at least have this awesome encounter with nature to take home with me. But this was nothing; this was only the beginning. Like spring, the trip was just starting. This celebration of spring was just the opening act, and much more of the show still waited for me to meet it. |
