My Trip to Mt. Rogers
our adventure started in the parking lot, where i scoured over the map of Grayson Highlands State Park. i was unable to make heads or tails of what i saw, and, although i like to think that the other day hikers mistook me for an experienced outdoorsman, i suspect that wearing my yin's decrepit yellow bookbag may have given me away:
next, i posed for a photo with my mother:
and my yin:
before pointing, incorrectly, to what i thought would be our final destination:
boldly taking off, we soon came to a sign that asked us not to "molest or harass the ponies in any way:"
this request seemed reasonable enough, but there were no ponies in sight. i wondered if perhaps "pony" was some sort of polite Virginian euphemism that hadn't yet made its way to North Carolina. soon, however, we came to said ponies grazing in the field:
although it was difficult, i obeyed the sign and managed not to molest the ponies as we continued on through this forest of dead trees:
and onto this amazing vista:
where i asked my yin to pose for a picture:
even from this altitude (5000 feet at most), it was already possible to look down on the birds flying above the valleys:
some were mating:
while others, perhaps, were hiding in nooks:
and/or crannies:
pondering these questions, (maybe), my yin looked to the heavens for an answer:
but found instead these mossy logs:
somewhere around this point, my mother decided to wait for us. she had gotten a blister from her pair of too-new boots, and my yin and i continued on without her, promising to pick her up on the way back. we were intent on making it to the summit, and after two more miles we finally did, finding a group of five people standing around a tree stump with a stripe of bright blue paint:
my mojo, however, was causing the focusing mechanism on the camera to malfunction, and i ultimately had to switch places with one of the fellow hikers to resolve the problem.
besides my yin and i, there were two Texans and three people from southern Indiana, leading me to wonder if anyone ever takes advantage of the nature in their own back yards. but this is beside the point.
the point is that apparently the USGS puts markers at the highest points of specific mountains:
meaning that we were officially at the halfway point of our journey. in celebration, i hoped that my yin might moon me, but all i got was a half moon instead:
so to speak...
unfazed by my poor taste, my yin picked these tiny flowers:
and we started back to find my mom, who had relocated from the fallen tree where we left her to a giant boulder:
resuming down the mountain, we came upon an errant Christmas tree decoration, which might have been the work of witchcraft, black magic, or just plain tomfoolery:
trying to get some perspective on the situation, i scrambled my way up to the top of this ridge when no one was looking:
while my yin built her own miniature voodoo:
and showed off her skunk-like sunburn:
before we knew it, we were back at the ponies again:
they had relocated to their sign, and in spite of my nearly uncontrollable urge to harass them (i thought a quick goosing might be a nice touch), i managed to maintain my composure and return to the car without incident.
exhausted from more than eight miles of trails, 1500 feet of elevation change, and five hours in the hot sun, we all returned to my grandmother's house across the state line. while i helped prepare dinner, my yin went to the back yard and took this amazing photo of a bumble bee on my grandmother's echinacea flowers;
and this one of a blue butterfly:
we ended the night with making blueberry pies from the berries we picked last weekend, and my grandmother passed along her personal recipe to my yin. i got the honor of cutting the pie, still gushy from the oven:
it was only later, after i got home, that i learned that the crust contained lard, bringing with it disillusionment and the sad realization that my grandmother's blueberry pie was now forbidden fruit...
so to speak.
No comments:
Post a Comment