156th Hike on House Mountain on Saint Patrick's Day: 7 Humans and 3 Dogs! (published 3-21-2019; updated 7-21-2022)

Introduction

Well, well, my last article was on 6/14/2017. My, how time goes by! Here I sit, plunking away again finally, on 3/21/2019. Earlier today, my “long-suffering” wife had a medical appointment. It was for a minor problem that was thankfully resolved. Today, we both have a day off from work. That is good! It gives me time to write.

The 6/14/2017 article was about my 138th hike on House Mountain on Mother's Day, 5/14/2017. As of Sunday, March 17, 2019, St. Patrick’s Day, I have hiked House Mountain 156 times. That hike was also my 20th so far with my surgically installed “bionics” (i.e., metal pins and screws in my left shoulder, right knee, and right foot)!

I had to pause writing for a few minutes. At about 3:30 PM, my wife came back from visiting her folks, who live about 3.5 miles away. I'm back now!

156th Hike on House Mountain

The two photographs below are from my 156th hike on House Mountain on Sunday, 3/17/2019, St. Patrick’s Day! This was the first time that I have had six humans and three dogs hike with me! The seven total humans were my youngest brother, his wife, and their two daughters; our niece; my wife; and me. The three dogs were Molly (our “old puppy”), my brother’s dog, and our niece’s dog. Enjoy the photographs!

By the way, life rolls on, day by day!

Dear Lord, let me die soon and easily to go home! My “bionic” joints are aggravating me too much!

What, Lord? Not yet?

Okay. Whatever.

I continue to endure my ongoing recovery. Hiking helps.

The photograph below is near the west bluff. Five humans, including me, and two dogs made it that far! My wife, our niece, and our niece’s dog turned back at the first of the six switchbacks on the hike up. By the way, a goat was standing on the rock bluff when we were below and near it on the hike up. My youngest brother, in manful form, chased off the “dangerous” goat!

I took the photograph below at the parking lot—after the complete hike by five humans and two dogs! I see two Nissan Frontier trucks! Mine is the 2006, behind Molly and the information sign. My youngest brother’s is the 2017 on the left side with the tailgate showing.

Conclusion

We “rock ‘n roll” through life by God’s grace if he cares! Well, he does care. Sadly, God's providence allows bad things to happen to good people.

If the uninsured chicklet had been a few seconds faster or slower on 3/29/2016, she would not have hit my 1995 Nissan pickup and me. Providence allowed the event.

I get mad at times. I think, “God, if you care, why didn't you prevent the uninsured chicklet from killing my truck and almost killing me? A few seconds earlier or later would have helped!”

God allows bad things to happen to good people in this temporal realm. He knows that good folks, saved by his grace, will have everlasting joy in heaven. I continue to endure with that thought in mind. Hiking helps—especially with family on St. Patrick's Day!

5-14-2017: Mother's Day and 138th Hike on House Mountain (published 6-14-2017; updated 7-21-2022)

7/21/2022 addendum: Please first enjoy the following four photographs and the brief comments below each. The meat and potatoes of my remarks follow the photographs. This was the only article that I published in 2017.

 

The above view was from the west bluff, looking southeast. I was standing on the rock outcropping.

 

The above image was also at the west bluff. Facing northeast, the bluff was behind me. The rock that I touch to mark my time is to the left of my trusty ball cap and canteen.

 

 The above is a view from the upper middle bluff, looking northeast.

 

  

My faithful 2006 Nissan Frontier was awaiting my return after the hike.

The hike was a month ago on Sunday afternoon, Mother’s Day, 5/14/2017. That day also marked Uncle Bobby’s birthday in 1939. I haven’t met him yet. Uncle Bobby, my mother's younger brother, Robert Allen Wood (5/14/1939–1/18/1941), died in infancy.

Alone, I hiked up the west trail to the west bluff in 37 minutes. Getting over and through a few downed trees in one low area slowed me down by a few minutes. Still yet, I hiked up faster than I thought, with my still damaged right foot and knee. My usual time on a hot day is 25 or 26 minutes.

By coincidence or providence, I started the hike up at 12:27 PM. On Wednesday, 12/27/2000, my mother died. I also thought about my mother-in-law, who passed away recently on Sunday, 4/30/2017. Finally, my first cousin, Retha, was on my mind. She passed away on Thursday, 4/27/2017, three days before my mother-in-law.

This 138th hike was my first hike all the way up to the ridge (of course, and across and back down) since my 136th hike on Saturday, 3/26/2016. Three days later, on Tuesday, 3/29/2016, I almost got to be with my mother, my father, my Savior, and so many others, when the uninsured chicklet failed to yield to my right of way. I hiked only the loop trails at the base on Thursday, 12/22/2016, my 137th hike, which was my first hike since 3/26/2016.

Every step I take hurts; I take steps. This 138th hike was in memory and honor of my mother, Uncle Bobby, my mother-in-law, and my first cousin Retha. Of course, it was also for me. Now that I know that I can hike up “my mountain,” even if I am a “lame mountain goat,” by God’s grace and my own strong will, I will keep hiking!

House Mountain Hike #137 Earlier Today (published 12/22/2016; updated 10/3/2022)

Monday, 10/3/2022, addendum: I added the section titles without changing the original wording.

House Mountain Hike #136 on March 26

My 136th hike on House Mountain was on Saturday, March 26, 2016. Two coworkers and I hiked up the west trail to the west bluff. Continuing to the east bluff, we hiked down and out on the east trail. I took one photograph. We hiked from 9:24 AM to 1:30 PM. The notes are in my hiking record.

That was three days before my world changed for the worse. An uninsured chicklet failed to yield to my right of way on Tuesday, the 29th. The 12/8/2016 article mentions that infamous day in my life.

House Mt. Hike #137, the first “bionic” hike, on December 22

Earlier today, instead of my 150th hike, which it would have been by my estimate, I hiked House Mountain for the 137th time. This was my first hike on “my mountain,” since my near-death accident.

I hiked alone on the two loop trails at the base of the mountain. According to the signs, one trail is 0.2 miles. The other is 0.35 miles. I hiked on uneven paths, down and up some sections, and over a few fallen trees.

A man has to start somewhere. I cannot yet “mountain goat” up the side of the mountain, but I have taken my first hike. My surgically repaired right knee and foot, which is still swollen and scabbed, took the pounding well enough.

I rejoice that I could take this little hike on “my mountain!” Of course, the rocky bluffs above are calling me. How much longer before I answer? Give me time. Today, the weather was sweatshirt-warm and sunny, a little too warm for this time of year. Enjoy the five photographs below.

Pearl Harbor Day at the Homeplace (published 12-8-2016)

Photograph by M. Fearghail, 12/7/2016, 2:28 PM

December 7, 1941. The mention of the date is sufficient. I was not yet born, but I have seen video and photographic footage. I have listened to stories and watched documentaries. My parents and grandparents shared their remembrances of the day. The day changed this country.

Yesterday was December 7, 2016, seventy-five years after that infamous day. The weather was sunny and seasonally cool. I drove my new old truck, a 2006 Nissan Frontier, to and from the homeplace. It was the first trip, since my old 1995 Nissan pickup truck died, and I almost died, when an uninsured chicklet failed to yield to my right of way on March 29, 2016. That date changed my life.

Yes, I have improved. I can walk well enough, and I can drive. I am not yet able to hike up a mountain. On December 5, I was medically released to return to work on the 19th. The plan is to work part-time for two weeks. Afterward, I will be back to working full-time.

Yay, rah. Ho-hum. Okay. I am still alive, and I have recovered well enough to drive and to return to work. Don’t get me wrong. I am glad that I am out and about, going toward a normal, active life. I can see a finish line up ahead. The end of this marathon is in sight.

What’s wrong? The prolonged and ongoing recovery has been and is a gritty process. It’s the reality of life. At least I am going forward. My stubborn, strong will is helping me. The deeper purpose in life, however, is still missing.

Yes, I will be a good husband, brother, uncle, and in-law. I will be a good neighbor. I will be a good coworker. Is there anything else?

Pause... Wait... Oh well, we will see. In my 8/26/2016 article, I asked God, “Could you not open a door of complete physical healing and another door of opportunity to serve you, as I once did before you took Mom home? I await your reply and/or action -- as I have been doing since 2000, I do now still.”

The long physical healing process, still ongoing, sees a finish line. What about the door of opportunity? We will see. Until then, I go back to being a state bureaucrat in eleven more days.

To those, if any, reading, I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas. Maybe I will take my long-suffering wife with me to hunt a Christmas tree on Saturday, if I am physically up to it.

I’M STILL ALIVE—WHY? (published 8/26/2016)

I almost died! I could have died. Should I have died? Why am I still alive?

The almost three-year silence is now broken. I write on this website again to whoever may read it. Life the last two plus years has been mundane: work, chores, hiking, family and friends, eating, sleeping, and so forth. Life was okay, if not wonderful. I lost interest in writing. Life was going through the motions.

My life, however, changed on Tuesday, March 29, 2016. My old 1995 Nissan pickup and I were on the way home from the office. An 18-year-old, uninsured driver decided that I didn’t deserve the right of way. She hit us. My old truck died. I almost did. I was hospitalized in two hospitals for thirty-six days. I am still unable to return to work. My improvement is to the point that I am slowly going insane, having not much to do and being confined to home. So, now I write.

Today, by the way, would have been Granny and Papaw Wood’s anniversary! They were married in 1931. How I miss them and many others, who have gone on to a better place.

Why am I not in that better place with them? Why did I not die on March 29th? As the Russians say well, “Только Бог знает!” I still can’t work, drive, walk well, hike, do yard work, check on and work at the homeplace, and such. I’m still here for my long-suffering and loving bride. Our thirtieth wedding anniversary was spent at home, with me still unable to walk. I’m still around for brothers, some closer than others. If, however, I can’t yet do the things that I need to do or do the things that bring me joy (e.g., hiking, working at the homeplace, and so forth), then why did I not die when my old truck did?

The above Russian phrase is “only God knows.” God only knows why I am still alive. He has decided not to tell me why. I was once an earthen vessel, in whom He had placed the glorious gospel message. I found joy and purpose in serving Him in full-time ministry and missionary work. Life, however, changed when Mom went to see Jesus, after her yearlong illness and suffering. The “fire in my bones” was extinguished. I didn’t extinguish it. God did. For almost 16 years now, I have been going through the motions of living, with my ministry purpose taken from me.

“So, God, howdy. I’m still here! Since I’m still alive, could you not open a door of complete physical healing and another door of opportunity to serve you, as I once did before you took Mom home? I await your reply and/or action—as I have been doing since 2000, I do now still.”

House Mountain 97-100th Hikes (published 1-1-2014)

The Appalachian Irishman has hiked House Mountain 100 times! It is official, as of 1/31/2013! Now, it’s time to start working toward the 200th hike! The following are photographs and commentary, on hikes 97 through 100.

Hike 97 was on 11/28/2013, Thanksgiving. The next four photographs are from that hike. The light snow on the ridge was wonderful! It was a good way to work up an appetite!

Hike 98, in the next three photographs, was on Sunday afternoon, on 12/15/2013. I bought a Christmas tree from House Mountain Christmas Tree Farm afterward. This hike is dedicated to our oldest niece, on the Appalachian Irishman’s side of the family, as I hiked on her birthday.

The next photograph is a rock outcropping – a good place to take shelter if it rains.

Hike 99 was on Christmas day, 12/25/2013. The temperature was about 20F, on the ridge, when I hiked. The icicles indicate the cold. The next six photographs are from that hike.

On the ridge trail heading east, I saw my first bobcat track on this mountain.

About the middle of the ridge, near the lower north bluff, someone decorated a Christmas tree.

With cell phone signal, I called the owner of the north side of the mountain, to ask permission to take photographs from the lower north bluff. (He had to restrict access, due to disrespectful hikers, who leave trash.) The next two photographs are from the lower north bluff. The owner told me to watch out for a black mountain lion, which a game warden and he had seen on the ridge not long ago.

The monumental 100th hike was on New Year’s Eve, 12/31/2013. This hike is dedicated to my sister-in-law, whose mother had passed away three days before. There are eleven photographs from this hike. The first three photographs are from the west bluff. The light clouds were sufficient to send snow flurries.

Near the middle of the ridge, looking east, the next two photographs are where the old fire tower used to stand and where the old two-seater out house, filled with buckshot, still stands. The stories that could be told about times at the old fire tower would be interesting! A cell tower is the modern footnote now.

The next three photographs are from the upper north bluff, which a hiker may access without violating owner’s restrictions. The photographs do not do justice to the eye’s view. Come hike with me, if you want to see for yourself!

A man and woman arrived just after I did. I told the woman that this was my 100^th hike. She asked, “Are are you the man who wrote the article about your 75^th hike?” (She had done an Internet search and read a previous post.) Of course, I am! I had my few minutes of “hiker fame” talking with them. She then took my photograph.

The next two photographs are from the east bluff, looking southwest. The east part of the ridge reminds me, just a little, of Devil’s Nose, in Hawkins County, but much more tame!

The final photograph, from the 100^th House Mountain hike, is of my ol’ faithful ’95 Nissan truck. He has 293,860 miles on him, as of the photograph, but he’s still running like new!

Lord willing, in about ten years or less, I will write about my 200th hike on My Mountain!

Devil's Nose, 11-29-2013 Hike (published 1-1-2014)

Devil’s Nose, in Hawkins County, Tennessee, is the highest peak, at its saddle, in the county. How it is named? I have heard two stories. From the east, the mountain looks like a crooked nose coming out of the ground. The other story is that someone got lost on the mountain and never returned. Someone asked, “Where is he?” The answer was, “Only the devil knows.”

This Appalachian Irishman has hiked Devil’s Nose, since his high school days. A friend's uncle owned property, at the southwest base of the mountain. We boys would hike up “the Nose” from his property. Later owners still allow us to hike from the same property. In 2002, I began keeping record, of my usual annual hikes up “the Nose.”

My 10th hike up Devil’s Nose, since 2002, was on 11/29/2013. The weather was cool and clear – almost perfect. If it had been a little cooler, as in 20F or so, the weather would have been perfect.

In recent years, only my youngest brother has been brave enough, to venture up “the Nose” with me. The following are photographs from our 11/29/2013 hike.

The first two are of my brother and me, at what he calls “the Samson Rock.” This is a rock formation, as we hike up the southwest side.

The next photograph is of my youngest brother, climbing in his favorite tree on the ridge, heading east. He likes to have his photograph taken in this tree every year!

It had snowed the day before, on Thanksgiving, and snow was still on the ground, on the ridge and on the north side of the mountain. We found fox and bobcat tracks on the ridge. The next photograph looks like fox tracks.

 

This next photograph looks like a set of bobcat tracks.

The next two photographs are heading east on the ridge. This is the first time that I can remember hiking, with snow on the mountain.

The next three photographs are taken from the east bluff, looking south and southeast. A group of four hikers came up the treacherous east side, using rope and hooks, while we were on the bluff. One was a nine-year-old girl, who is the great granddaughter of my uncle Carson and aunt Hazel Ferrell! (Can you figure out how she and I are related exactly?) This young girl certainly has some Appalachian Irish blood in her!

The next two photographs are the traditional “standing on the bluff” images, of my youngest brother and me.

Lord willing, I want to hike Devil’s Nose every year, the Friday or Saturday after Thanksgiving, as a memorial to my mother, whose birthday was on November 24th, 1932.

Tribute to Papaw Wood - Revisited (published 3-14-2013)

The Appalachian Irishman penned the following words exactly two years ago today. Thirty years have now passed, since Jesus took Papaw Wood home. Much has changed in those years. His dear wife, Granny Wood, passed in 1991. Their daughter, my mother, went to be with Jesus, so early and unexpectedly, in 2000. Their son-in-law, my father, joined them in 2008. Life has changed. Still the memory of Papaw ties a strong bond to the past, the present, and the future. Now, my purpose is to instill in my remaining family the family stories, the history, that still binds us today. I love you, Papaw!

----- From the Appalachian Irishman, 3/14/2011 -----

My Papaw Wood, my mother's father, passed away on this day, March 14, back in 1983. I'll never forget leaving Morristown-Hamblen Hospital, after sitting the night shift with him, thinking that Papaw was going to make it. Mom called me later to say that he had passed.

Papaw was a farmer, in his earlier years, in Indiana, where Mom was born. Later, he worked for Prater's Furniture, as a furniture mover, in Morristown, Tennessee. In his retirement, he worked part-time at a gas station, in Bean Station, Tennessee.

He and Granny had one of those all-too-rare marriages, in which Papaw courted Granny all his life. They always had that spark! Even in their later years together, Papaw would sneak up behind Granny, reach behind her ear, and say, "I stole some sugar!" Granny would pretend to be annoyed, but then she'd smile and say, "Oh, Aby!"

Papaw was married once, before he met Granny. The first marriage didn’t work out. Some time after the divorce, as he enjoyed telling it, he saw Granny walking down Main Street, in Morristown, and said, "There's the girl I'm going to marry!"

I used to spend a week during the summer with Granny and Papaw. I saw how they genuinely loved each other. Papaw taught me how to whittle, carve wood, tie rope, work in the garden, etc. He loved to tickle me until I couldn't breath! His mother's maiden name was Bare, and he'd give me a "big ol' Bare Hug," as he'd call it. Papaw loved to pull little pranks on Granny and other folks. I got some of my sense of humor from him.

For birthdays and holidays, we would either go to Granny and Papaw's, in Bean Station, or they would come to Rogersville. Well, they always came to Rogersville for Christmas Eve and spent the night. I used to love to listen to Papaw "tell his stories," about when he was younger. I just wish I could remember them all! I guess I received my appreciation for good conversation from him.

At the viewing, before the receiving of friends, Granny looked at Papaw’s body, lying in the coffin, and said, “He loved me so good.”

Papaw, thank you for being so good to me! You were the best Papaw I could have ever had!

“ELIMENTRY” LESSONS for the “GUVERMINT EDUKATED, SO$IALIST” FOLK (published 2-24-2013; updated 8-28-2022)

Introduction

8/28/2022 note: I updated for style only. I did not change one word! I added this sentence only, which I conclude now.

US Debt Clock is the link.

Pay attention. You may have difficulty thinking logically, with conclusions from facts, not feelings. Take a deep breath, clear the mush from your mind, and THINK!

Lessons

Lesson #1: On spending. (Source: “US Government Revenue: Government Revenue Details for 2012,” compiled by Christopher Chantrill.)

* 2012 federal tax revenue:   $2,627,500,000,000
* 2012 federal budget:           $3,728,700,000,000
* 2012 new debt:                   $1,101,200,000,000
* 2012 national debt:           $16,654,300,000,000
                                                (and still counting!)
* 2011 budget cuts:                    $38,500,000,000

Now, let's remove eight zeros and pretend it's a household budget:

* Annual family income:                               $26,275
* Money the family spent:                            $37,287
* New debt on the credit card:                     $11,012
          (29.5% of spending)
* Outstanding balance on the credit card: $166,543
* Total budget cuts so far:                                 $385

Got it? Now, do we have a spending problem in the home? Do we not also have a spending problem in the nation?

Lesson #2: On the debt ceiling.

You come home to find that the sewer backed up. Your home has sewage up to the ceiling. What should you do: Raise the ceiling, or remove the crap? Oh, this argument has one weakness: Crap is free, but when the federal government borrows and spends money that it does not have – that is not free!

Conclusion

By way of primer instruction in logic, these are arguments by analogy. (You may want to look up the term “analogy,” as you may not understand it.) The reasoning is sound. (Look up the formal, logical meaning of “sound.”)

Do you want “free” or “guvermint” subsidized healthcare, housing, and food? Do you want a guaranteed job, with guaranteed income, and guaranteed retirement income? Do you want our “grate nashun” to keep spending more than it takes in? If so, here’s your new “fed-derail” tax form:

Line One: How much did you earn last year?

Line Two: Send it in!

You know, the type of “so$ialist” state that we are becoming was tried in another country. That was the former Soviet Union. It fell in 1991.

SILENT FOR TOO LONG (published 2-3-2013; article #66)

The Appalachian Irishman has been silent for too long! (Well, I must admit that the almost three-month battle, with the Kick Your Backside (KYB) virus, had been a significant distraction. After seven trips to the doctor, four days of missed work, five rounds of antibiotics, two rounds of Prednisone, volumes of salt water flushed through my nose, hot toddies, and so forth, maybe, just maybe, I’ll be completely well, and over this lingering cough, soon! Having been blessed with excellent health all my life, this is a first for me, to be sick this long.)

Nothing gets the ol’ Appalachian Irishman’s blood boiling faster than these namby-pamby, liberal, socialists, who want to further their ever increasing and faster-paced agenda, to change what was once a great, God-fearing nation, into their “socialist utopia,” of limited freedom and a super-sized “Big Brother is watching you” government. The opinions of those, who do not toe the politically correct line, will be silenced.

Until recently, I have resigned myself to sitting back to watch, with sarcastic glee, as our nation taxes and spends itself into oblivion. I gave up, when “we the people” re-elected our current and socialist, Jimmy-Carter-on-steroids President. I stopped watching the news, and I just didn’t care anymore. “Let the country fall apart,” I thought. Maybe the phoenix will rise from the ashes.

Then, the socialists began pushing my buttons, on “gun control” and “homosexual rights.” My Irish dander went up several degrees. Dang it; enough is enough!

First, on “gun control,” as a true conservative knows, gun control involves careful aim to hit your target – nothing more. The socialists, however, want to stand, on the coffins of those, who were killed by a mentally unstable individual, to restrict our freedom. Make no mistake – taking away, or greatly restricting, a true patriot’s access to fire arms is the real, hidden agenda of these socialists. The second amendment exists, to secure the right of the people, to stand against a tyrannical government. The socialists want to remove that freedom. They will do so, by any means possible.

Notice how the legislative focus is on “gun control,” not on the degradation of society or on the mental state of the shooter. We need an overarching discussion, on how big government policy and the welfare state have broken down the family, diminished the role of religion and morality in society, and led to a situation, in which school shootings occur. That, dear reader, is the true issue, which the socialists will avoid discussing, at all cost. Oh, and the media arm, of the socialist state, will not even allow these points, for open and honest discussion. Nope, they will focus on “gun control” only. Beware, the camel has his nose and hump under the tent. “Shoot” him quickly, before he gets in completely!

Then, the news came out that the Boy Scouts of America (BSA) may cave, to the homosexual lobby pressure, by allowing openly homosexual scouts and, even worse, scout leaders, to join their organization. I was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout, in my youthful years. This news distressed me greatly. Homosexuals compose about three percent of the population. Their power, in proportion to their numbers, is frightening. History indicates that a small minority can render significant change, for good or evil, in a society.

I acquired the names of local BSA leaders and, through them, learned how to communicate, to the BSA national executive board. The local leaders, thankfully, are taking a stand against the national executive board. I have penned my two cents, in their support and against the national executive board’s spineless considerations.

Moral absolutes are not changed, by the whims of society. Murder, theft, lying, premarital sex, adultery, homosexuality, polygamy, bestiality, and so forth, are morally wrong – absolutely. I can prove and defend this easily, if anyone wishes to challenge me. People, of good conscience, must take a firm stand now; lest we, by our silent complacence, allow our moral and ethical standards, to erode even further, in this once proud nation. Otherwise, to speak against “homosexual rights” will be a crime worthy of some punishment. Churches beware! A sermon upholding marriage – which is, by definition, between one man and one woman – could be outlawed. Employers beware! Not hiring or offering benefits to “same sex partners or spouses” could enlist fines. We are already very far down the road. We must stand, hold the line, and turn the tide.

The thought enters this Appalachian Irishman’s mind that Big Brother may be monitoring the Internet, for articles, such as this one. The freedom to speak, in opposition to the forces of political correctness, may be the next to be lost. For now, I do have this forum, but I’m watching my back!

What say you?