I had planned on taking a trip out to my Family Farm this weekend and visiting the house my Grandmother and Father grew up in one last time. The house is scheduled, any day now, to be torn down since the flooding we had in the area, the past couple of months) covered the house's first story with water. The water damage inside and outside the house is reported to me by my father as not repairable, leaving the house as a loss. "Just tear it down", my tear laden father told the man at the bank after walking the buckled hardwood floors where he had spent his childhood years. My Grandmother and her Brother (Rufus Branch Junior) were both born inside the house with the assistance of a mid-wife. Rufus Branch Senior (Great Grand Father) had discovered the farm after he crashed a plane there in 1914 flying a routine flight from Millington Army Base in Tennessee. For what ever reason, after his plane crash he came back to the farm and bought the several thousand acres of Black Cat Farms. The farm is still going strong and still in the family today. I am still undecided about whether to go out there or not and shoot a few photographs. I was going to go yesterday but I could not find anybody that wanted to go. Also, how sentimental am I about the house? Not a whole lot. I have pictures of the house back in hay day of the 40's and 50's when the house was really in full swing. Why do I want to go rummage through a dank, nasty house for old memories? Some of my co-workers have tried to encourage me to go because they missed out of something similar. What am I missing?? Dad reported to me the place has been looted many times over, that the 700 pound Mosler Safe (nothing in it) was also missing. I cannot even imagine how they accomplished moving that thing. Why again do you want to go for a last viewing before they bury her like some funeral? Its just a dam house.
The house is by the wing strut.
So instead I created another skate board and then went for a walk. On my walk I stopped and took a photo of a yard, down my street, that must have 10 German Sheppard's in the back yard and another 10 kenneled up in or around the house. Some days when you walk by the smell of dog shit is stifling (sti-ful-ing), not to mention the constant barking.. barking... barking. In this particular moment as I was walking by all ten dogs lined up in front of the fence barking and all taking a piss at the same time. I did not have my camera ready in time, what a shame. Why had all these dogs decided to re-leave them selves for the audience of just me, I was not sure if I should be flattered or insulted. After they had time to shake off the final bits I got my camera phone ready and snapped a single photo. I put my phone/camera away since the lady of the house came out to fill up a water bowl, plus there was another dude out on the side of the house- I have never met these people before. I was hoping to get a photo that I could later post on FB with the caption "Average security system in Memphis." Maybe its not even that funny, comedy is full of failures but I was only there for some selfish giggles and craptacular snap shots. I abandoned my photo shoot and get maybe two blocks further down the street when this Grey Chevrolet truck pulls up and rolls down their window. Its the dog lady and I am guessing her husband driving the truck. "Why are you taking pictures of my house?", she asks in a snarky tone. "I wasn't, just one, it was a joke that is not going to work," I replied. She then explained to me that she ran a dog rescue, has an illegal amount of dogs and is fending off complaints from neighbors regularly. That she did not trust anybody and would appreciate it if I did not take pictures of her house. Wow, I had not meant anything by taking a picture and I had no intention of saying anything else about it but now she has pissed me off. Come to think of it the house is a nuisance to the neighborhood. Go run your cash cow of a business in a place that is suited to house 20 dogs, not a 1000 square foot house that is on less than a acre in the middle of Berclair Nieghborhood. She said, "We run a dog rescue....", and you don't have another job, neither does your husband. So for every dog you get there is money in your pocket and for every dog you sell, more money in your pocket. I was willing to look the other way, just another anomaly of a house in Memphis. But no, she had to chase me down and read me the riot act about taking pictures of her house. Does she not understand I have the right to do what ever the hell I want. I guess that is what she is afraid of, or maybe I should stop dressing up like a under cover cop and acting suspicious. What ever lady!!
Chickens in Front Yard
Dog Rescue
My latest creation, shape and art.
And here is a skateboard that I designed and did a little rip off Sheppard Fairy art work on (yes, I just painted over stickers.) Looks real nice dont it. Well, all I can say is this Memphis summer time heat makes us all a little crazy in the city. Will I make it to the house called Black Cat, will you get to see pictures of a dead architectural structure that once was the center of the universe?? I cant answer all these questions right now, to me it is insignificant to take pictures of something whose beauty is lost in decay. People will say that there is something artistic to come away with pictures of this old beast. To be honest, I have never liked pictures of despair and decayed ruins that have bordered oak frames hanging in some sweet art gallery. Maybe I am wrong after all, maybe I just need a helping hand or maybe, just maybe I have better things to do. Later.
San Antonio is very hot temperature wise, hotter than Memphis my place of homeliness. Will you go back to San Antonio (SA)?? Not sure, it has the River Walk, Sea World, The Alamo and a bunch of old Spanish Mission buildings along with staggering heat. I think if I was visiting Austin and took a side trip it has possibilities, that is if I ever make it back to Austin for anything other than business. There are no beaches, mountains or mild weather in SA, so the draw becomes less and lesser. SA is a place you take your kids to visit on Thanks Giving, very much a family place, not sure what else other than for business. I saw a lot of European's walking the streets, so maybe it is like visiting Oxford England for a yank like me. I hear that if you go to Oxford on the weekend of graduation that you will have the opportunity to have splendid conversation with overly educated drunk people. SA River Walk (RW) is a tourist trap, kind of a one sided Epcot Center with a real world scenario, people don't ask you for spare change at Epcot. The neatly dressed Mariachis lined the droves of mediocre Tex Mex food establishments as boats of eager tourists passed by listening to stories of how Davy Crockett fended off the Mexicans just beyond that wall, all this very marvelous after the the first hour or two. Then after that you are left flat, what else, go into another place that has Texas in the name?? The best places were not even remotely Texan, they were Irish. I found two bars on the RW, one called Waxy Oconnor's and one named Durty Nelly's Irish Pubs. I went to Waxy's two nights in a row. Really nothing special other than it was like you had escaped the RW. That was what I thought was nice about it, you walk into Waxy's and there are no Mariachis waiting to serenade you, just the smell of stale beer along with Bangers and Mash. Waxy's has a guy play guitar Sunday through Thursday which is fairly entertaining where as Nelly's has a guy playing piano. I think that Nelly's smells worse which is great. I ended up at Nelly's for just a minute on my last night, just to check out the Mayhem. This guy was centered in the middle of the packed bar sitting in front of a wide angled mirror allowing the whole bar to view the maestro's melodious anthem. There was not a seat to be had so I wondered off back into the wilderness of La Cucarachas and Steak Fajitas. O yeah, I also remember going into a Coyote Ugly's the night before, for about three minutes, for that is all it took. I mean, come on, you got some scantly clad bar tender walking around on top of the bar with a micro phone insulting guys sitting at the bar while pouring drinks on their heads. Fun, just not my style. I told my date she could stay if she enjoyed getting hit on by chicks with short hair that wanted her to sit down with them. No probs. Then there was Mad Dogs British Pub which reminds me of Hooters hyped up on the Beatles and Union Jacks. All the waitress's wore short short kilts, black stockings and tight British flag Tops. I thought Austin Powers was going to jump up around the corner at any minute and ask my friendly date for a shag. I take Waxy's as a regular hang out in the end where my Scot/Irish blood feels as it belongs the most, some place cheap.
Did you learn anything about San Anotonio? Yes.... It smells just as bad in the summer as Memphis.
Do you have any advice for could be travelers to the area? Yes.... Stay in doors, don't drink the water and don't let your kids swim in the river..
Was there a favorite attraction in down town San Antonio? Yes...Public restrooms.
What would be your favorite moment while staying there? I can't remember her name...
Don't get me wrong, San Antonio was a great city to do business in while then staying at a super nice hotel located on the River Walk. There was lots of great architecture and interesting things to do. Its just not my kind of city, kind of like the city I live in now but ten times the Hispanic population. It is funny how you go on a trip to a place that you would never seek out and figure out more about yourself. I will never waste my time in Texas again unless I have to drive through it like I did last summer (Feel Free to Read). Working in Texas is fine but living and visiting there does not interest me in the least, not anymore. I am ready to go back to Colorado, visit Salt Lake City and visit my friend who is a dog sledding guide in Bozemon, Montana. What I learned on this trip for some weird reason is to never just settle for things, to keep pushing and the right things will come along. I know what I want now and this trip opened my eyes. Time to get off my ass, Thanks San Antonio. Later.
I did not sleep well last night. It was a series of falling a sleep, waking up and falling a sleep again until 4am in the morning, when finally my phone rang at 8am sharp. It was my boss asking where I was, that I was suppose to be helping a coworker with a class at that minute. "I will be there in five minutes", was my only response as I lay in bed. I had not known I was scheduled to be in this class for they had changed the schedule around when I was out of town on business for them last week. Anyway I got dressed, took a spit bath lathered in lotion and derangement, cleaned teeth and arrived seven minutes after my phone conversation with my boss. The day went fine, the class was 8 am til 4 pm, no worries. I even ate lunch with my boss and his boss with no mention of my blunder. There was a email to me late last week stating the change, my bad!! Nobody asked me why I had not taken a shower or smelled weird, thank ja.
After I got free of the entanglement of classroom study I headed back to my room and changed into my freshest skate outfit. T-shirt, shorts, trucker hat I bought yesterday, my backpack full of pads and camera. I was headed to Martinez skate park that I talked about yesterday. The park is 3.3 miles south of the hotel. It took around 45 minutes to get there through downtown San Antonio and then through South Trinity Neighborhood where I found Martinez park. And yes, I rode my skate board the whole way, helz yeahs.
The park was adjacent a soccer field that was dirt and rocks, then there were a few park benches for siting and basketball court. Then once you made it through that maze I found the skate area. It was just like Thrasher.com said, it had some steep steep hubba ledges and some steep banks that all collected in a general slope. At the top was a half bowl with an extended inner bowl you can see from the pictures. The concrete surface was butter smooth, fast and kind of slippery. There were a group of kids skating with their dad, Adam, who intermittently talked to and told my story of why I was there. Adam kind of shed the light of scary for me. Then out of no where these older guys showed up and started ripping the bowl. The main guy, Norman, who I talked briefly with was riding a very nice and new Flip Lance Mountain board. This guy could rip it, he was fluid and fast. After about an hour of skating doing nothing special and feeling sketchy as hell on my long board I took off back toward the hotel. Adam said there was a crap load of people about to show up, there were drug dealers in the park over there (watch if a cop shows up he said, they will run off) and I was the only white guy among the all the people there. It was when Adam joked about jumping the guy selling ice cream and water because he had no money that made me feel uneasy. I was in a Hispanic nieghborhood and I had to skate out, so I opted out early. I skated the 45 minutes back and here I sit after my first shower of the day writing to you.
I made a friend today in class and we are suppose to go to Waxy Oconnors and watch Joe Walmsey sing Irish ballads, he is from Liverpool by the way. Wonder if he follows football or is a Everton fan?? Who knows, I meet Brits in the States that hate football because the English are such crazy super fans. Facebook Photos Here. (anyone not on facebook should be able to view these). Cheers mate.
What comes to mind when you think of San Antonio?? I always think of the great hold up against the Mexicans that Davey Crockett faced at the Alamo. Some people think of the ghost tours from watching the Discovery Channel. I am actually staying across the street from the Alamo. It is the size of a large Denny's with out the breakfast and entry costs around $20. People who have gone say that you walk in, take the tour and leave 30 minutes later. Well, the Alamo has been the last thing on my mind since the get go. There are ten skate parks in San Antonio and since this is the seventh most populated city in the United States it is of no surprise. The two parks that i have targeted are Martinez Park and Lady Bird Johnson Park. Martinez is a smaller park that has a half bowl with the claim that their concrete is smooth as butter. LBJ is a larger park that has a couple of bowls of different sizes and is the hallmark of San Antonio park skating. If I can find a ride I might hit LBJ but I might just keep it to the Martinez park since it is less than three miles away, I have no car and I can skate there in under 30 minutes from the hotel. Plus, LBJ is going to be busy for sure and according to the Goodtimes skate shop I visited this after noon, Martinez will be pretty mellow. Just what I need, thanks for the advice guys at the skate shop.
The first obstacle that I had to encounter was yesterday when I boarded the air plane. I had to take a skateboard on board the plane which I had never done and had some general reservations about having never done it. According to a Silverfish Long boarding thread, I should be able to take my backpack and the 39 inch Dogtown board on as my carry on luggage after checking my main bag. The thread said to ask the flight attendant if I could put it in the coat closet at the front of the plane. This worked on both legs of the flight, as I went past the closet, I asked the attendant if I could drop it in with no major question. I arrived in San Antonio with my board and luggage with no hassle. Lets see on the way back.
Tomorrow I will attempt to skate to Martinez. later.
I guess I have to give a little bit of a back story before I can just release the main story since Subiaco Abbey is not a normal high school. Subiaco Abbey is first and foremost a Benedictine Monastery, it is a High School, a church, a retreat center and summer camp as well as other things. I belonged to the High School part of the Abbey where they house around 200 students every year that live, eat and breathe high school education. And yes, we lived there too, it is a boarding school. When school is not in session there is a retreat or a summer camp going on. And no, it is not some place where you send bad children, the place is rich with tradition where some of my class mates fathers and brothers graduated Subiaco. Then again yes, there were kids there that you might consider bad children. It was just all fun and games to us, did not matter who you were or where you came from as long as you enjoyed toilet humor. Come on, I guess I forgot to mention it is a all boys school, need I explain any more?
I began attending Subiaco Academy in the summer of 1989 (August). I had been attending the famous Little Rock Central High School for my 10th grade year and attended Henderson Middle before that. During my time at Central my family life was very dysfunctional due to my parents irresponsibility to me and divorce, they did not get it and were self involved. While hanging out with the Central High crowd I met several kids who went to Boarding School in other states. When they would come back in town they were like Rock Stars who went to boarding school and got to do what they wanted with no crappy family life. I quickly wanted to be like them, not live at home and come back into town to bask in boarding school fame. Half way through the school year I was bugging dad to send me to Darlington, Baylor Prep or Saint Andrews Swanee, all of which were in the Boarding School Catalog of schools. Subiaco was not in this catalog of schools and I knew it, I was masking the idea of going to school there because I heard it was military style barracks and no girls, boo to that. Subiaco Academy had burned down in 1927 and had to close for a year until 1928 when it reopened. Only schools that were over a certain age appear in the Catalog of Boarding schools and since Subiaco closed its doors in 27 it was out of the range because the catalog stipulations. Then at the end of my 10th grade year my dad invited me down to his office for lunch one day and broke news to me that if I wanted to go I could go to boarding school at Subiaco Academy. One of his business associates told him about the school, awe man, not there...... So a week later we went up to Subiaco and I interviewed with the headmaster at the time, toured the campus and the semi private rooms I would stay in at Heard Hall. It was not so bad, very beautiful campus to say the least and they had lots of sports to choose from. I would be free of family dysfunction and their rules, so why not.
1989 before I came up to Subi. Lincoln Smith to my left went to a school on the East Coast, I thought he was so cool and he still is very cool.
Later that Summer I would go back up to Subiaco and spend my last two years of high school there with pleasure. Ok, so is this the part of the story where I tell mad stories about what went on at the Abbey? Nope, back to the reunion....
The reunion started on Friday, goes Saturday and ends on Sunday after a big breakfast. I was not sure what to do when it came to register for the reunion, should I go up there Friday or Saturday?? Who would be there and would they even talk to me, it has been 20 years for most of these guys and 19 for a couple of others (there is a homecoming revisit story that happened in fall of 91). So I went for a safe bet, get there Saturday afternoon, attend 4pm mass and then that nights activities. I got there around 230, got my room squared away and headed down to the pool. There at the pool I met a few class mates - Anderle, Beans, Jones and Fleetwood. I had also briefly talked to Benard Tougas on the way down there leaving Coury House. I did not recognize David Jones from the pool because he left Subiaco after my first semester.
We made our way back up the hill and attended 4pm mass. I sat next to Eric Lacerte and his family during mass. Then this guy from the 1981 class sat on the other side of me, this guy ended up being a ass later on in the story. Mass was mass, I have been so many times, it was great....yah. After mass we headed over to the Round House where most of the nights activities would happen next. The round house is a big parish house that has a large room full of tables, perfect for our banquet. The class of 91 had a grouping of tables where I got to shake hands and talk to Roger Lisko, Kieth Schulterman , Nino Ardnemagni, Steve Schmitz, Eric Chapman, Brian Koch, Leon Guidry, and Jason Taylor. Later I would talk to Kenny Seiter and catch up. Most every body is married and the majority of everyone has kids with the exception of me, no marriage and no kids. There was a full bar inside and plenty of beer out side. After everyone had there drink of choice the live auction started offering up items such as a weekend in Stuttgart, a 22 caliber rifle, a Walnut Coffee table, a TV and other non notable stuff that went for a lot of gravy. Then they served up steak and potatoes buffet style, I had two of each. After every one had there fill of food the silent auction got started on the items in the hall way. It was a fairly uneventful affair, the most fun was sitting on a bench with Guidry while watching his son draw on the auction sheet. Nobody knew the bench we were sitting on was for sale, I think one person bid on it, good for them. After the silent auction a few of us went out back to help Chapman load his new Walnut coffee table into his Honda Pilot. So for the next two weeks the table, his wife and four little girls are going to keep close company.
Chapman all loaded up.
This was the Jerry Springer guy from 81.
Once we got Chaps loaded up we noticed that the beer had disappeared and people were filing over to the official Beer Garden. Here we relished in stories of the past and present while some of us threw back what ever that was in those kegs, hopefully Bud Light. The night was going round in a fairly normal mood, nothing out of the ordinary, just basic conversation and laughs, then out of no where there was screaming. David Jone's wife was yelling at the top of her lungs at the guy who sat next to me in mass. She was exclaiming that how dare he try to kiss her, to never text message her again and to leave the premises, her area now. Apparently he had fooled her into giving him her number, he later texted her something about her lips being soft and then tried to lay one on her right there in the Beer Garden. I could tell the guy was a bit of a turd during mass because during mass he kept trying to be funny but failed on all attempts. So here we are witnessing something off the Jerry Springer show, what fun. After that, 2 am rolled up and everyone went to bed including me.
The next day I went to breakfast at 9am sitting with Kenny and his father (who graduated in like 67?). I Had eggs and sausage flushed down with weak coffee and juice. There was a short presentation and then we all said our good byes, we all went on our way, back to our lives. Except Chapman, he still has two more weeks of the unknown with a Walnut Table and Family. I got in my car feeling kind of depressed, I did not want to leave. I had been nervous about seeing all these guys again, that is why I had played it safe and only come up Saturday but as I drove off towards Memphis I wished I had been there since Friday. I had no idea this experience would be so great and refreshing. To see all these guys and nothing much has changed, they are still the same but grown up. In the end we were just still high school buddies shooting the breeze, some of them with kids and big jobs, some of us single and working hard, no matter what- we are still the class of 91! That part has not changed, fun times. Can't wait to see these guys again. I have been invited back next year, lets do it.
You can view the entire Photo Album Here: Click Me
First of all I need to apologize to all those who were involuntary involved in my experiment. If I hurt any feelings, I do apologize, if I bruised any egos or did any other psychological damage, I really did not mean it. The build up to my first solo backpacking trip was a bit frightful until I got on the trail.
I have been surfing the web and collecting gear for months now. Ever since my trip out to Snowmass, CO my backpacking and mountaineering interest has gone on the rise. Then I watched the movie Steep which left me wanting to do something I have never done before, ski mountaineering. But wait, I live in Memphis, the heart of the Delta, the great river port that has no mountains or snow. How would you even begin?? O yeah, I suck at skiing. I barely make it down green and blue runs although I have not tried to snowboard yet, maybe I would have better luck. So my solution was to build a skateboard mini-ramp in my backyard, skate it and then go backpacking in Arkansas and Tennessee. Which I have accomplished all these things up to date, just no over nights with the backpack until now.
The original plan was to hike the Slyamore Creek Trail located around Mountain View, AR. I was going to get to Mountain View on Thursday in the early evening, car camp that night and hit the trail head the next morning. I bought the Tim Ernst book and additional maps of the trail, I was ready for the assault. All my gear was ready, I had been unpacking and repacking my pack probably everyday for a week just to get used to keeping things organized. My system of setting up camp after making the hike is to unpack, set the tent up and then dump everything out of my bag and go to town cooking. The next morning, wake up, repack and hike out. By Wednesday I was starting to feel the nerves of making the journey that I had not made yet though at the same time not understanding it was the backpacking that was causing the nerves. I thought my anxiety was more rooted in some family business and some other non notable stuff but I was wrong.
So Wednesday night the weather forecast for that region of Arkansas was indicating 50-60% chance of rain. This was frustrating because the day before it was 20% which is doable in terms that there is a 80% chance of no rain. I started looking around for other trails further south of the weather and found the Oauchita Trail that ends in Little Rock at the Pinnacle Mountain State Park Visitor Center. I had forgotten about this trail. The trail spans the Oauchita National Forest and starts out in Talihina, Oklahoma and quickly runs into Arkansas, crawls across the state and ends up in Little Rock. If you walk the entire length of the trail then you have walked half way across Arkansas, a whopping 192 miles in side the National Forest and another 32 miles outside the forest to the visitor center, making the trail 144 miles in total length.
It was not until Thursday morning I decided to change the venues. Going to Little Rock meant I could stay at my Mom's house instead of car camp, also she only lives a 15 minute drive to the visitor center where the hike starts for me. Not sure why this venue has not occurred to me yet, it's really better suited for my first solo backpacking experience.
I spend the night at my Mom's and made it to the trail head around 930 am and start actually hiking around 10am. My goal for the day is to make it to Penny Camp, around a 12 mile hike. Penny Camp is suppose to have already made up camp sites with fire rings, fire wood and maybe even a water source. In the wilderness, something like that is like having chocolates left on your pillow after the turn down service in a four star hotel. Me, the trekking poles and the 38 pounds strapped to my back were off down the trail. The first few miles were different sections of trail that crossed several highways before you got to the forest canopy around Lake Maumelle. I guess this is indicative of trail systems like this just popping out on to the highway, down the highway to only disappear back into another wooded section. There are these little blue marks everywhere that you follow to find the trail whether the mark is on the street pointing to the next blue mark or on a tree in the middle the wilderness. The blue marks are your life line and guide post, with out them I would be lost. You see one on the train track telling me to go forward.
At 3.3 miles I make it through all the highway crossing to the edge of Lake Maumelle. If you look at the map you think what a wonderful hike, having the lake just over your left shoulder all the time. You are conned into thinking that if you get bored looking at trees you can peer out onto the lake and watch boats go by, haha to that. Below is a picture of the edge of the lake, the mammoth concrete structure that spans the gap is a spill way that holds the water in the lake. Ok, so that is the closest I will ever get to the lake on the hike, I will not see the lake up close again until I reemerge from the forest.
I leave the spill way area and the trail is a closed off canopy of trees on either side of the trail for the rest of my journey. My main goal is to get to mile 8, the Scenic Vista that is said to have a spectacular view on the Pinnacle Mountain from the other side of the lake. Getting to mile 8 means that I only have around 6 miles to go, that I am well over the half way point. I was hiking at around 2 miles per hour so I was slated to make Scenic Vista right at 230 pm, then hopefully Penny Camp around 430. Sounded good and I was well on my way when I reached the top of the ridge that Scenic Vista laid upon. I was getting really excited when I saw this:
Well excitement kind of turned into a burning sensation all over my body as the ascent was a little bit steep and never ending. It is one of these climbs were you turn the corner thinking thank Ja this is over but the blind corner just reveals more trail that goes up. I make it to the top thinking can't wait to take this pack off and check out the view, well, here is the view:
The view would have been great if it was not for the dozens of trees that blocked any kind of real view. All you could see was the top of Pinnacle Mountain and the edge of the water on the other side of the lake. Other than that is was a fine place with a nice grouping of boulders you could lounge a bout on. I hung out here for probably 15 minutes and then pushed onto Penny Camp.
The rest sure helped the fatigue that was beginning to set in after 8 miles. After the not so scenic stop I got back into my hiking rhythm but just after 30 minutes the fatigue was beginning to set in quicker than before, just after 30 minutes it felt like my should harness was uncomfortable and eating into my clavicles. I have been used to this feeling by now, to beat the feeling I have to shift the pack and open the breast strap on the harness (I think the harness on my bag is narrow for me so it is causing discomfort.) but I was determined not to stop and rest, I just shifted the pack around and pushed on to make the 1 hour mark, then I would rest. If I could make it to the hour mark I then would be just another hour to Penny Camp, yahoo!! So I made my hour, stopped, took my pack off and did some haphazard yoga to stretch out my body that was crying out. I took the ten minutes put the pack back on and started back down the trail growing ever more excited about Penny camp. As I walked down the trail I wondered if there were going to be other people there, what my camp site would look like, what is the water source, can't wait!! The guide said look for the white blazes on the tree marking the head of the trail along with some kind of sign. Ok, cant wait!!! I get about 30 or 40 minutes into the hike and notice something familiar, a Orange blaze on the a tree that indicates no hunting. Then I get further down the trail and I cross a small water fall that looked just like one I had seen earlier.
I thought this was interesting and kind of not right. I pull out my compass for the first time and keep walking the same direction, then I come across another land mark that tells me the official news. Mile marker 215 confirms I have been walking backwards on the trail. This means that I am back to roughly back at mile 9, what now??! I was hurting at this point, no doubt about it. I decided to suck up my pride of making Penny Camp, go back to Scenic Vista and make camp there. Besides, if I camp there then I only have the 8 miles to walk back in. I was slightly disappointed but I knew that I had bitten off more than I could chew at this point.
Ok, I make camp:
Boil water from a local stream and spread the kitchen out and yep, the alcohol stove worked great:
My feet where a aching mess:
Then just about as I was going to eat my dinner:
These guys walked up:
Yep, you guessed it, they are Rangers from the Army on a off duty training hike. They popped up to the top of the trail and asked if they could stop and eat their dinner. This was exciting to have company at the dinner table. They were on a through hike to Lake Sylvia which is 32 miles. They had started at the Visitor Center ,where I started, and they were just rolling into my camp site around 615 or so. These guys were going to hike straight through the night to Lake Sylvia which would put them at the end of their hike some time in the early morning, 2 or 3 am. Yes, they were going to hike at night with head lamps. Fun Stuff.
They left after 40 minutes and I was alone again to entertain myself and listen to the noises that came from with in the forest and the lake down below. At one point there was this very eerie noise that seemed to be reverberating from the forest, it was a faint sound, a very low buzzing, but it came from every where. I could not stand it, so I started roaming the woods looking for the unknown and then there it was, right above my head - a carpenter bee. I look up and refocus my eyes and see thousands of carpenter bees doing their thing, what ever it is they do, playing a symphony of sound for me out here in the great wilderness.
The rest of the night was just me sitting on some rocks and burning my fire.
I finally turned in around 9:
I was freaking exhausted:
But that did not mean I slept a whole lot. Once I got all comfy in the tent, the noises seemed to get crazy out side. It was just the usual bugs, owls, maybe a bear or mountain lion and some pesky insect who kept crawling between my rain fly and the tent (this guy made some loud crawling noise, jerk!)
Anyway, morning came and I must have slept some, just not sure when. I packed up my stuff and hiked the 8 miles back to the visitor center in just over 4 hours. The first five miles I hiked in 2 hours, good pace but the last three took over 2 hours, ouch is all I can say. It was painful yes. I also ran out of water with about 1.7 to go only to find a water fountain at the East Summit Parking lot which is 1.3 mile to the last stop. I was really low on water to begin with so this was like a heavenly celebration when I found this water source.
So that was it, from there I limped my way back the 1.3 to the parking lot where my car waited for me. It was a tough experience, it took me a day and half before I could walk with out limping or side stepping the blisters on my feet. My whole body was sore and is still sore as I write this today. When I got back to my Mom's house I immediately got on the web and looked at the gear this site sells - backpacking light - buying into the philosophy of spending $$ on light weight equipment and using a Tarp Shelter and Bivey Sack (much lighter) instead of the traditional Tent and Sleeping Bag set up. To carry 28 pounds not 38. I had fleeting moments out there on the trail when I was reeling in pain as every step would dictate, that this was the first and last time I ever do this, but it was that smile I had on my face as I drove my car off the mountain that said it all. Hell yeah I am going to do this again but better. How does that much pain lead to pleasure??
This past weekend could not have been better for an over all experience unless a woman had been entered into the equation. No women are knocking at my door, o well, maybe next week. I started the Friday off returning home from work early so I could make the finishing touches on making my house hospitable for my Dad's overnight visit with two dogs in toe. Dad has two dogs, a Border Collie named Blackie and a Golden Retriever named Pal who I always encourage him to travel with them rather than board them at the kennel. This is the only the second or third time he has brought the dogs, I love having them as guests.
Once Dad got to town we did the usual, let the dogs turn my yard into a suer and then go out to eat. He has to eat at Central Bar-B-Que when he comes, there is no question as to why anymore. We once went to Mortimer's down the street and I could tell that he was still longing for that slow cooked pork a few blocks away once the meal was done. He lives in Northern Arkansas and there is nothing that compares to the world famous slow roasted Memphis BarBQue. So his philosophy is never miss an opportunity on his routine stay. I say his routine stay because the whole thing plays out the same every time he comes down. He arrives around 430 or 5, we go eat at 530 or 6 after some brief conversation at my house. We eat and leave the restaurant, go to the grocery store where he picks up some soda pop, granola bars and cream for coffee. We also pick up the dvd from the Red Box and head back to my house where we watch the movie (Red Baron). After the movie he reads in bed and lights out at 1030. The next morning we have coffee and talk until about 1130 am when he packs the dogs up in the SUV and drives the 3 and Half hours back to his home. This is the routine about every two or three months when he comes to visit. The visit never takes longer than the 19 or 20 hours, short and sweet but always enjoyed.
After Dad left I watched Manchester City just squeak by Manchester United (Man U Fan) in the FA cup semi finals. I did not really care who won since Liverpool Football Club are not in it anymore, just who cares, I don't. So once that atrocity ended I went for a five mile walk with the new trekking poles that I have never used. This coming weekend I am planning on doing a backpacking trip in Arkansas and the poles will help with the 20 miles I am going to walk with 40 pounds strapped to my back.
That night I went over to my good friend Don's house. He was cracking the a crank case open from a Type 3 Volkswagen engine to see if this case was any good or not. Turns out this one was not any good but cracked. This is Don 's fourth or fifth case that is no good. If you know anybody that has a Type 3 crank case let me know. While Don was reeking havoc playing with motors I thought it would be a good time to make an alcohol stove that I could use on my trip. It turned out well, the stove, kind of ruff around the edges but I will make another - take a look at the first burn.
Then I took it outside for video Two.
The stove works as you can see from the video, just looks ghetto is all. Nothing wrong with a little ghetto engineering from now and then. I will make a more refined version after I get back from my trip.
Then Sunday came out of no where, before I knew it the big game was about to start between Liverpool F.C. and Arsenal. The first half bored me to death, 0-0, Arsenal were dominating possession and we were not able to win mid field battles, where is Glen J when we need him. The Second Half seemed much of the same and then I got a phone call in the middle of the second half, I talked and watched the game in a glance from time to time. I finished my phone call with two minutes plus stoppage time to play. The stoppage time was a incredibly long eight minutes because of Jamie C's injury. So I stopped and finally gave the game my whole hearted attention. The game was getting heated, chances were flying and then with about two minutes to play (in the stoppage eight minutes) tragedy struck with Spearing fouling Fabergas in our 18, which resulted in a penalty kick that VanPersie drilled into the net. I could not believe myself, I decided to finally start watching this game and this happens. Well I had not had a moments rest when all of a sudden a foul is called against Arsenal just outside the 18 that Saurez takes but is deflected away from goal, this then leads Lucas to chase the ball down and get trampled by Eboue which finally leads to another penalty kick for Liverpool this time and a equalizing goal. Wow!!! I felt kind of dirty after watching that but I had not taken a shower in two days either.
In the afternoon Don convinced me to go practice my golf swing - I just have video.
And
Then there was skating, dont laugh, we are trying to get there. Learning to skate again when you are nearly 40 is a very slow and willful process. Videos are elementary but promise to get better.
