A Tribute to Bart: 80th House Mountain Hike (published 3-13-2011)

My Cousin Bart, at age 63, died last night, unexpectedly, too early in life, after a sudden illness. My youngest brother called, to tell me, this morning.

Bart was the only son of my Uncle Roy and Aunt Maxie. Uncle Roy was one of Dad’s brothers. Uncle Roy and Aunt Maxie passed away years ago. Bart lived with Dad's oldest brother, my Uncle Bill and his wife, Aunt Bobbie, until they both passed. Retha, a cousin, took care of Bart, for several years. For about the last three years, Cousin Bart lived in a nursing home in Morristown, Tennessee.

Bart was physically and mentally disabled, due to early childhood spinal meningitis. His right leg and arm were drawn, but he could walk fairly well, with a shuffle. He didn’t seem to mind his limitations. Bart didn’t really think that he had limitations, for he loved life, family, and friends. He was sharp-minded, in his own way. Bart knew every state capital, and he loved to quiz you on it. If I didn’t get one right, Bart would smack his hands, laugh, and correct me. He could remember things, from the past, that many folks might forget.

Bart loved to cut up and joke. He was the life of many a family gathering. He loved to watch the old TV shows, Andy Griffith, Bonanza, and the like. He enjoyed calling people Barney, Goober, Floyd, Hoss, and such. I’d say to him, for instance, “Bart, you ol’ Gomer-lookin’ thing, you!” He would just shake his good fist, call me “you ol' Barney” or something, and laugh. We had a lot of fun with Bart. He was a rich soul.

After Mom died, Dad kept Bart at times, often for a few days, when my cousin, who plays in an Irish band, had to travel or do something else. Dad often took Bart down to the Burger Bar, a local restaurant, where the “old folks,” and sometimes the young ones too, hang out. Bart always livened up the place. Bart was good therapy for Dad, and Dad was good therapy for Bart. I drove up most every Sunday, to see Dad. My wife went with me often. I was, or we were, glad to see Bart, when he was there. The only problem was that Bart liked to sneak cookies! “Bart, did you get those cookies?” He would walk down the hall, look around, and just grin.

I took my 80th hike, up House Mountain, this afternoon, in honor and memory of my “ol’ cuz” Bart. He is in a far better place, and I could imagine him looking down, from much higher above, and seeing the view that I saw from the ridge.

While Mom went through her year-long illness, which led to her passing, over ten years ago now, she dreamed that she saw Cousin Bart in heaven, not disabled, whole in body and mind. Well, Bart, you ol’ cuz, you, I would like to see you, where you are now! Tell Mom and Dad hello for me, and tell them that I’ll be seeing them again one day!

Bart, these photos are for you, you ol' cuz! I will miss you!

Norris Dam State Park Hike on 2/26/2011 (published 2-27-2011)

Yesterday, this Appalachian Irishman enjoyed another solo hike at Norris Dam State Park. The weather was sunny and crisp, unlike today’s rain. Today, I am bored, a “women’s basketball widower,” and unable to get into the woods. Yes, my wife and her father are attending the afternoon Tennessee Lady Vols' basketball game.

The first two photographs below show the solitary trail that I selected. I didn’t meet a soul. My reliable 1995 Nissan pickup, with almost 160 thousand miles on the odometer, was the only vehicle in sight. As a side note, I met a most interesting Bulgarian gentleman on a House Mountain hike in early January. He and I are now hiking together occasionally. Of course, I enjoy hiking alone at times to clear my mind, but I am always eager to meet interesting people to join my little Appalachian Irishman hiking club!

The next eight images show the beauty of the upper reservoir. The water was clean and blue, and the sky was a clear blue. In one photograph, you can see the dam to the south.

The next two photographs are of the dam itself. Norris Dam State Park and the nearby Norris Watershed offer an abundance of trails for backwoods camping, hiking, horseback riding, and biking. A couple of campgrounds and cabins are available. Of course, fishing and boating opportunities abound. Yes, I know. I sound like a commercial!

Ah, now, let’s get to the last photograph below and the point that the trail emphasized in my mind, a point that I already knew. The Marine Railway Loop Trail started out well, with the great views of the lake in the previous images. After trekking for a while, however, the trail became boring. So, in typical free-spirited adventurer style, this Appalachian Irishman set out to make his own trail! Exploring around, I crossed over two trails and decided to follow one. That trail led me to within about 100 yards north of where my truck was parked.

Life lesson: When you are bored or frustrated with one path, get off that trail and blaze a new one! You will come out about where you thought you would! Nature is a good teacher, or reminder, if you listen.

New Year's Eve Shooting! (published 1-1-2011)

The Appalachian Irishman was involved in a shooting on New Year’s Eve, up in his native Hawkins County! Wait! Don’t start gathering that bail money!

His youngest brother and he finally got together to release a little stress by killing a few hanging targets. Below are the “taking down the bad guy” poses of my brother and me.

We started by firing a few rounds with Dad’s old 32-caliber pistol. We need to do a little work on the weapon to restore it to proper condition, but it still shoots! Next, we shot my brother’s 9 mm handgun. The photograph below shows my hits from about 15 yards away. The black tape marks where I fired Dad’s pistol. The holes show the 9 mm impacts. Not too bad for my first time firing a 9 mm, huh?

The fun started when we switched to the 12-gauge shotgun! I hadn’t fired a shotgun in many years, but it came back to me instantly. The results are below!

I needed some stress and frustration relief! Thanks, brother! We’ll do this again soon!

Ten Years Ago Today (published 12-27-2010)

Ten years ago today, at 5:15 PM, Mom went to be with Jesus. She was the best mother that I could have ever had. Taken at only 68 years old, Mom could still be alive today, touching the lives of family and friends in her unique way. Mom’s absence has been felt strongly these past ten years.

Mom, I miss you, but I know that you are in a far better place. Tell everyone—Granny, Papaw, Uncle Bobby, Dad, and so many others—that I will see them someday. Life goes on here until we are all reunited there.

I love you, Mom, bunches and bunches!

See Happy Birthday, Mom (published 11-24-2009).

House Mountain 75th Hike on 12-26-2010 (published 12-26-2010)

I have hiked House Mountain 75 times! This Appalachian Irishman is three-fourths of the way toward requesting that House Mountain be renamed after him!

The date is Sunday, December 26, 2010. I love it when a good snow falls on a weekend! Temperature: Mid-to-upper 20s Fahrenheit. Attire: Long-sleeve T-shirt, sweatshirt, long-sleeve shirt, flannel insulated shirt, old patched-up blue jeans, rugged hiking boots, quart canteen, trusty camera, and old ball cap. No! I didn’t wear gloves! It wasn’t cold enough!

I took the first three photographs below along the west trail, near the west bluff. I have passed by the tree stump, which had grown out of the rock formation, many times. That tree, once alive and now dead, teaches me defiance and survival against the odds!

The next three shots are from the west bluff. A strong, cold wind was blowing snow in from the north. I put my top layer back on and stayed a while. The camera doesn’t capture the view that my eyes will always remember! Yes, that’s Leak Rock! Yes, I did! Of course, as I headed east along the ridge, I had to write (with my finger) “Appalachian Irishman” in the snow on a large, smooth rock! Advertising is everything!

The first of these next two images is a communications building that is located about halfway along the ridge. Could someone give me a job running the equipment? The second image is what is left of an old two-seater outhouse, which has been hit with buckshot several times over the years. It leans near the base of where the old fire tower used to stand. Remember, the purpose of a two-seater outhouse is so two people can encourage each other!

These next three photographs were taken along the ridge toward the east bluff and at the east bluff. The snow draped the mountain and the trees in a brilliant white. The cold north wind blew snow from the laden trees onto the ground and down my back. The old oak tree has stood proudly for many years.

The final four images are from the two north bluffs. One, where the flag stands, is just east and higher than the other. I have not taken a shot before of the small cave opening near the lower northern bluff. It looks like a good place to take shelter!

Hum! This Appalachian Irishman wishes he could hike, camp, photograph, and write for a living! Thank you, House Mountain. I needed some exercise and some time to think alone. I’ll see you again, but for tomorrow, it’s back to the old grindstone.

House Mountain 74th Hike on 12-5-2010 (published 12-26-2010)

Russians count the seasons from the beginning of the month. For instance, winter begins on December 1st. Since this Appalachian Irishman is part Russian in his heart, he also follows that practice. “Algore” and his global warming crowd must be, pardon the pun, cooling their heels, since this winter has started out colder than usual.

December 5th brought the first snow flurries this winter. Falling on a Sunday, this Appalachian Irishman wasn’t chained to his work desk as he was during the wonderful snow that fell later on Monday, the 13th. What a Monday the 13^th that was, but I digress!

What did I do on the 5th? Of course, I headed for my mountain, House Mountain, for the 74th hike!

This first photograph below is from the west bluff, looking southwest. Notice the highlights in the clouds. Of course, this Appalachian Irishman had to take his traditional leak off the rock toward Knoxville! Should I name the rock Leak Rock?

The next two images were taken along the ridge heading west. Does the rock formation look like a dragon’s head? It looks like a good place to camp to me!

The last four photos were from the north bluff. I practiced my close-up photography on a red leafy thorn and on some wild blueberries. Yes, they were ripe and delicious, the blueberries, not the thorns!

Devil's Nose Tradition: 11/27/2010 Hike (published 11-28-2010)

My grade school and high school friend, Bill, had an uncle, Walter, who lived and owned land at the southwest base of Devil’s Nose, in my beloved and native Hawkins County. Bill, his brother, my brother Clark, another friend Randy, and I went “up the Nose,” from “uncle Walter’s” land, back in those days a few times.

Some things change. Some remain. “Uncle Walter” is gone, but a descendant still lives in his old homeplace. Now, at least, my youngest brother, Doug, and I “hike the Nose,” on the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving every year, as a tradition, since Mom’s passing in December 2000. I have kept records from 2001 forward. To make up for not going after Thanksgiving in 2001, Doug, his wife, my next-to-youngest brother, Arthur, and I hiked in February of 2002. Since then, at least Doug and I have hiked every year, except in 2003 and 2008. Well, I hiked alone in 2007.

Devil’s Nose stands alone, rising about 2,300 feet, with a ridge running west to east, south of the Clinch Mountain range. Years ago, I heard two origins for the name. Viewing the mountain from the east, it looks like a craggy nose coming out of the ground. Another option is that a man, long ago, went into the mountain and never came out. When asked, “Where did he go?” Someone replied, “The devil knows.”

Regardless of how named, Devil’s Nose calls, at least once a year, and my brother and I must answer. I enjoy the woods and the solitude. The east bluff unfolds a spectacular view of the valley below. Hiking in the woods clears my mind, heals my soul, and rejuvenates my body. Looking down from above, my mind expands, and the minute issues of daily life take perspective. A man needs to answer the call.

My youngest brother and I hiked “the Nose,” on Saturday, 11/27/2010. The first two photographs show Devil's Nose from the south. Can you see the hawk in the close-up of the east bluff?

The next two photographs are from the southwest side, which we go up to get to the west side of the ridge. Make your own trail most of the way. At one point, climb over the rocks, pulling and crawling your way up! Do you see the icicles? The valley temperature was in the upper 30’s in the morning. The ridge was colder!

The following photograph is facing east, near the east bluff, along the ridge. We’re almost there! You can follow an animal trail part of the way, but you must mostly find your own way. Isn’t that true in life too?

The next three photographs are on the east bluff. A persimmon tree was still ripe, and we enjoyed its fruit. Just don’t eat it before it’s ripe! I made a small fire from damp leaves, pine needles, and twigs. Of course, the Appalachian Irishman had to strip down to his T-shirt in the cool weather!

The final two photographs look toward the southern valley, below the mountain. What views! The camera does not well capture the view that the mind retains!

You know, if the weather allows, I might just need to see who will “hike up the Nose” with me around Christmas this year!