Somewhere in the Smokies

Last time I was here we saw no one, but this time there were several other hikers. Therefore, I will keep it to myself as to exactly where we were. It is a great corundrum, balancing getting people into the wild so that others will be active in protecting our great outdoors and keeping special places, special.

Sunday turned into a wonderful day after some hard rains on Saturday. The creeks had already run clear and were low enough to make rock hopping possible. About a mile into the hike I noticed dafodils in bloom. My Grandfather, a forest ranger before he retired, used to point to them and say, "This was someones homeplace at one time." After a short investigation we did find eveidence of rocks piled by human hands. Probably a collapased chimney.

Further along we stopped by the side of the stream and talked, I noted how I felt that it was deeply ingrained in my physic to meld with the wild places. I always felt peaceful and quite when in them. Near where we stopped were the reminants of a cable and the cable dog that sometime in this centery was used to shuttle logs across the creek as well as the rusting remains of several old barrels.