2012-07-04

woodstock meets river

This is River.  His real name is Ryan and he lives in Miami [normally]. For the past three months and for the next three months he lives somewhere between Springer Mountain, Georgia and Mount Katahdin, Maine. River is his trail name. Anyone who hikes or backpacks a lot earns [establishes, determines, adopts, proclaims] a trail name. My trail name is Woodstock.

My wife and I did a 2700+ mile road trip to Boston recently and along the way we spent time driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway [which goes from Cherokee, North Carolina to the Shenandoah National Forest, Virginia [where it becomes Skyline Drive]. The Blue Ridge Parkway and the Appalachian Trail [a 2200+ mile footpath from Georgia to Maine] intertwine through Virginia. Every time the parkway crossed the Appalachian Trail [AT] I had to stop and take pictures and hike on the trail. It took us a long time to get through that section because of this. We were near the Harvey's Knob crossing taking pictures and hiking on the AT, talking about past times on the this trail, thinking about future times, and saying how great it would be to talk to a thru-hiker [someone who is hiking the entire trail all at once], when we see this young man coming up over the ridge toward us. He stopped and talked to us for a while. He's right in the middle of his 6-month trek. He started at Springer Mountain on March 31, 2012. What an adventure.

You can follow River's adventure on his blog, takeoffyourshoes

2012-06-15

it's time to unlearn

...and learn to see color for the very first time. Forget everything you thought you knew about color. Forget all the meanings you have attached to color. Green isn't envy. Yellow isn't cowardice. White isn't purity. Color has a mind of it's own and it's not what you always thought it was. Color communicates your personality. Without language you connect to yourself through your color choices. Your color preferences and the color combinations you make reveal how you see yourself and a bit of your personality. I took a simple 3-question test and here are my results.

[01] Which do you prefer: yellow, blue or red?
[02] Which do you prefer: green, purple or orange?
[03] Which do you prefer: black, white or brown?

I prefer yellow, green and white.

Yellow: Finding common ground is the game you play best. You calm troubled situations and bridge differences. Your awareness of others' perspectives and points of view is a very powerful tool. It enables you to express contrary, unpopular feelings without offending anyone. People feel they know where they stand with you, and are willing to let you help them. And consequently, you are happy when you are able to give of yourself. By keeping people listening, you establish a forum for solutions and possibilities unfold.

Yellow + Green: You have a realistic perspective on life that creates comfortable and secure environments for yourself and your family and friends. You carefully listen to what others say and try to see things from others' points of view. By questioning what's really needed, others become more realistic and find better ways to manage and direct their day-to-day routines.

Yellow + Green + White: You're the best at recommending how to make products, systems, services, or environments fit others' needs. The suggestions that you tactfully present actually make others feel more comfortable in their own skin. When they hear your concerns, they realize better ways to take care of themselves. Your ability to make fact-based suggestions is your greates talent. Even in the most difficult situations, you enable others to appreciate different perspectives and new approaches.

The results of this test for me proved to be spot on. If you would like to find out who you really are, take this test and send me a comment. I'll post your results.

2012-05-30

the crossing


We had been walking for hours. An electricity filled the air. My wife saw the flash first. Startled, she grabbed my arm and squeezed. I looked into the sky, just above Burney Mountain as the explosion occurred. Fiery boulders scattered in all directions. Although we were more than five miles away from the blast, we could feel the wave of heat as it screamed past us. The ground beneath our feet trembled and rolled. Our instinct said run but our curiosity said investigate. Without a word between us, we wound our way through the forest toward the blast, making sure to stay on the trail, our only sure means of retreat. The closer we drew to the base of the mountain, the more dense and dark the air became. There was an underlying smell of soot and ashes. We slowed to a snail's pace, covering our noses with our hands, planning each step, surveying the land, listening. The bridge was now the only thing between us and the trail to the top of the mountain. The small stream which normally flowed beneath the bridge was now only a steaming, bubbling trickle of water. This was decision time. Step onto this bridge and there was no turning back. Crouching low, hanging tight to one another we hesitated, but only for a moment. One deep breath, one first cautious step and the die was cast. The earth trembled. The bridge shook. The air crackled. Hair on my arms and neck stood on end. We were almost to the other side. I feared the worst. Whose decision was this anyway, to make the crossing......

2012-05-24

the coming light


It was an unusually warm spring day. Almost smothering. The trail traced a serpentine path deep into the forest. The air was devoid of sound. No birds singing. No breeze through the trees. No rustle of leaves. Not a woodland creature in sight. No squirrels scurrying about. No chipmunks. Or lizards. Or beetles. It was so quiet. The only sounds were the accentuated crunch of my footfall and the wavering rhythm of my breathing. It seemed strange to be on this trail alone. This trail which on any other day is crowded with runners. And bikers. And dog-walkers. I slowed my pace. Almost tiptoeing. Trying not to make a sound. Searching for a sound. Wanting to hear something. Wanting to see another person on this trail. The forest seemed heavy. Dark. Menacing. The further into these woods I walked the more ominous were my surroundings. I considered turning back but the halfway point loomed only minutes away. And then... the hot, smothering air began to chill. The wind took my breath away. I shielded my eyes from the debris swirling about. I could see something ahead. A mist. Gaining ground on me. I could see the coming light....

2012-03-01

sweet fern


The subtle power in perfume found
Nor priest nor sibyl vainly learned;
On Grecian shrine or Aztec mound
No censer idly burned.

That power the old-time worships knew,
The Corybantes' frenzied dance,
The Pythian priestess swooning through
The wonderland of trance.

And Nature holds, in wood and field,
Her thousand sunlit censers still;
To spells of flower and shrub we yield
Against or with our will.

I climbed a hill path strange and new
With slow feet, pausing at each turn;
A sudden waft of west wind blew
The breath of the sweet fern.

That fragrance from my vision swept
The alien landscape; in its stead,
Up fairer hills of youth I stepped,
As light of heart as tread.

I saw my boyhood's lakelet shine
Once more through rifts of woodland shade;
I knew my river's winding line
By morning mist betrayed.

With me June's freshness, lapsing brook,
Murmurs of leaf and bee, the call
Of birds, and one in voice and look
In keeping with them all.

A fern beside the way we went
She plucked, and, smiling, held it up,
While from her hand the wild, sweet scent
I drank as from a cup.

O potent witchery of smell!
The dust-dry leaves to life return,
And she who plucked them owns the spell
And lifts her ghostly fern.

Or sense or spirit? Who shall say
What touch the chord of memory thrills?
It passed, and left the August day
Ablaze on lonely hills.

John Greenleaf Whittier

2012-02-17

i'll build a stairway to paradise


Begin to day!
You'll find it nice,
The quickest way to paradise.
When you practise,
Here's the thing to know,
Simply say as you go...

I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step ev'ry day !
I'm gonna get there at any price;
Stand aside, I'm on my way !
I've got the blues
And up above it's so fair.
Shoes ! Go on and carry me there !
I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step ev'ry day.

George Gershwin