My Trails

You know you’ve been in too many caves when you start pointing out different formations and explaining how passages were created to total strangers on a tour.  After two days at Mammoth Cave NP, I have had my fill of underground tunnels for a while. On the second day of my visit, I took a tour called Grand Avenue – a walk of four miles through some of the neatest parts of the cave. It took four and a half hours to walk and even had a lunch break scheduled in the middle. The tour guide – coincidently named Richard – a retired geology and botany professor, was the most knowledgeable and interesting guide I’ve ever seen.  

From there I traveled to Daniel Boone Nat’l Forest and spent a few days hiking the trails by the Rock Castle River. On one trail I came upon a huge snake laying across the path. I reached out and poked it with my hiking pole, assuming it would scurry off into the bushes, but it turned toward me and coiled like it was mad and would strike. Even though it didn’t look poisonous, I let it have the path and detoured way around. 

On Friday, I stopped at a cinema outside of Chattanooga and saw the movie Water For Elephants. It was a good movie and I would recommend it. I had read the book a while back and wanted to see if the film remained faithful to the story. It was pretty close. 

I spent today at Amicalola Falls State Park in Georgia. It is the place where the Appalachian Trail begins in the South. In the early part of next week, and if the weather looks good, I will hike the approach trail to Springer Mountain and the official, southern terminus of the AT. Then it will be off to see the Great Smoky Mountain Nat’l Park. 

There is a mosquito in here. I can hear the tiny whine of her fluttering wings as she circles above me in the dark, waiting until I let my guard down, waiting for me to drift off to sleep. I know she’s up there somewhere, but her faint sound gives me little indication or target, even so, I flail and slap at the air in a futil attempt to strike her down. 

It’s too hot to hide under the blankets. I lay mostly naked, clad only in my boxers and socks, exposed flesh ripe and inviting to her blood-thirsty quest. Sometimes I feel the soft tickle and think she has landed. I slap my skin even though I know it’s only a ghost bite, my mind playing paranoid tricks on me.  I know she will win in the end. She will attack when I least expect it. She will take my blood. 

I stayed in Davy Crockett Nat’l Forest for a couple of days. They have some nice hiking trails and bike paths. There was a backpacking trail near there, but it was one of those hikes that starts here and ends 20 miles someplace else. I couldn’t figure out how to do it. 

The next day I visited Hot Springs, Arkansas. This is the place where families go to vacation. There are amusement parks, water parks, wax museums, petting zoos, shopping, dining, you name it!  All the fun you can imagine. 

It started back at the turn of the century. Everyone who was anyone wanted to travel to Hot Springs to bath in the therapeutic and curative natural spring water. Entrepreneurs happily built rows of bath houses, promising to cure all sorts of ailments with there miracle waters. Patrons willingly spent a week or more soaking their afflictions away. 

I toured one restored bathhouse (now under management by the Park Service) and strolled along the path where 140 degree water seeps from the base of a hill. It is very hot! Do you think I put my finger in it?

What’s this!? I seem to be losing all the hair on top of my head!  I knew that radiation would cause problems with my body. Next, I’ll probably start losing my memory! 

Anyway, I decided to stop at Carlsbad Caverns (I don’t think I’ve ever been there before). Everything looked familiar… must have been a dream I had.  Seriously, it’s just such a neat place I could walk through there every week. Instead of riding the elevator to the top, I walked back up the path to the natural entrance, over a mile in length and 850′ of vertical climb. It’s a good workout but nothing compared to the Grand Canyon. 

Don’t let anyone tell you this country is over crowded. Just drive across Texas. I’ve never seen such miles of nothingness in all of Interstate 10. From Carlsbad to Pecos, to Fort Stockton and beyond, all there is is oil derricks and wind turbines, scattered along rolling hills as far as the eye can see.  I guess it’s one of those landscapes that grow on you, but I long for a tree or river. 

I may head for Corpus Christi in a few days. I don’t think I’ve ever been on the Texas coast.  

Today I visited a place called Trinity Site. It’s in a remote section of White Sands Missile Range, not far from Socorro, NM. The site is quite significant because of what took place there over 60 years ago. On July 16, 1945 the first atomic bomb was assembled in a small farmhouse two miles away, taken to what is now called ground zero, raised on a 100′ tower, and detonated just before dawn. After that, life on earth would never be the same. Like it or not, we entered the nuclear age.

There is not much left there anymore and contrary to general belief (I have to admit I was a little worried about the radiation), I didn’t glow when I got back to my camp. Because the place is only open twice a year, there were mobs of people visiting. It’s all free, even the bus that takes you to the McDonalds Ranch where the final assembly took place. 

I have a feeling the crowds will be smaller next year. When I left I noticed a sign stating that starting next year, because of budget cuts, there would be a charge of $25 per car to enter. It’s nice to say you’ve been there but not worth that much money otherwise. Most of the landmarks were only information boards with crowds of people standing in front of them. If you are really interested in ‘The Manhattan Project’, read about it on the Internet.

I’ve been staying at a campground called Valley of Fires Nat’l Recreation Area, about 50 miles east of Trinity Site. It’s the nicest BLM campground I’ve ever been at: spacious sites overlooking the valley of an ancient lava flow, new modern restrooms with showers, and even electric and water hookups if you need them. Tomorrow I will head on east toward Carlsbad Caverns. I can’t go by there without stopping. 

On Tuesday Jan 21, Richard, Dianna, and I drove to Long Beach, California. The plan was to visit the old neighborhood where, some forty years ago, we lived, worked, and went to school. I was hoping a drive through town would jog memories of bygone days of my youth.

Things sure change a lot in forty years. I remembered the names of streets I used to tool around on in my old Volkswagen beetle, remembered the place I used to work at, remembered the landmark of Signal Hill, and vaguely recall a place I used to eat. But there was so much unfamiliar to me, most of the time I could have been on another planet.

My brother is a super tour guide. As we wove through the streets of Long Beach, Dick pointed out points of interest and changes to the area. We passed by General Valve where we both used to work. I remembered some of the characters I met while working in the shipping area. The college I attended for a short while is no longer there, instead a housing development of run down buildings. The whole neighborhood seemed seedy, not even safe to walk through anymore.

The one bright spot in a community forgotten in progress was Signal Hill. Dick and I used to cruise up and down the twisting, steep, hairpin turns that characterized the dirty, oil field sloaps of Signal Hill. I’m not quite sure what the attraction was for driving up there except for the fact you could see the city lights below and scare girls with a roller-coaster type drop on the other side, but we were always going up there. Now the hill is built up with modern townhouses, beautiful roads, and a park on top with walking trails along the ridge. It’s really quite nice and we spent part of the afternoon strolling along the pathways, reading signs about the history of the oil fields and enjoying the views. Dianna prodded Dick and I into taking an extended hike all the way around the top of the hill. It felt good to walk.

After lunch at a nostalgic burger joint, ( everything was smothered in chili) we drove to the Queen Mary and signed up for all the tours. For the next five hours we ducked through hatches and compartments on a Russian submarine, climbed through five decks on a magnificent ocean liner, and learned the history of a cruise ship turned troup carrier during WWII.

Later that evening, we found a nice restaurant on the waterfront where we had tacos and drinks, and then strolled through some shops where Dianna found a cute hat. Dick steered us next to an ice-cream shop where we sat on a bench, licking our cones, gazing across the water at the mesmerizing lights of the Queen Mary. It was a perfect end to a perfect day.

My brother and sister-in-law are so good to me. We had a wonderful time. Thank you Richard and Dianna for a beautiful day. I love you both.