road trip

ROAD TRIP: BLUE RIDGE PARKWAY DAY 1

in

I drove South to Mt Pisgah, but my modern attachment to technology failed me miserably. I found myself on a dirt road, only to find the end with a DEAD END and a malicious looking handwritten sign that read “THIS IS NOT THE ROAD TO MT. PISGAH”. Already out of signal range, I slowly found my way back to a road that at least was paved and had lines on it. I kept driving on a hope and a prayer that it would lead me somewhere. I drove up a tiny, twisted, and seemingly endless road buried deep within the forest. I spotted a sign for the Blue Ridge Parkway and I meandered on. I looked over to my side and saw the most beautiful sight- miles and miles of blue and gray mountains with the colors of fall already sprouting in the trees. My first reaction was nothing more than a profaned “holy fucking shit”. I stopped at a secluded overlook. I stumbled out of my car and collapsed onto the soft ground and started crying. How lucky we live in a world with mountain top roads. How lucky we live in the South, with all of its idiosyncrasies,  that can provide such a scene.

There is a definitive sound that comes from the mountains, more so there’s a storied silence at 6,000 feet. Mt. Mitchell is the highest point in North Carolina; it was a 5 mile drive north even from the crest of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was a good 15 degrees cooler up there, and my southern comfort to temperature hasn’t waned from 75 degrees. I drove away from the crowds and found myself in a secluded area with nothing but a few picnic tables and dead trees.

It was nothing but silence. The wind was blowing, yet somehow it made no noise. It’s the most welcome and solitary feeling. Time didn’t exist, and I don’t remember how long I stayed. It’s a feeling that I want to chase- the sounds of the mountains.



smoky mountains national park

I am a total dreamer for a life in the mountains, be it Appalachian or Rocky or otherwise. While I've always lived in big cities, (Nashville for the time being can semi-count as a big city...) I think it's time for a life in the rural parts of the country. I want to wake up to the mountains, to the greenery, to the fresh air. I want bears to get in my trash and decorate my home with cheesy cabin decor. I want to live next to waterfalls and a national park. 

I remember when I was in middle school and I was riding the bus home through a rural country road through the woods, and the only thing I wanted was to replace those trees with big buildings. I thought I would have a fast paced life in New York City (I did...for 4 months) and that's how I wanted to live my life. Now all I want is for these big buildings to go away. 

My indecisiveness will always hinder my true desires. Mainly, I can't really figure out what those are. I like living in a city where I can go out to local restaurants and drink craft beer and see shows every month. And I'm trying to decide if it's worth giving all that up for a different pace of life. In the mean time, I'll enjoy the fact that I live a mere three hours from a beautiful National Park, where I can return time and time again, and dream of the mountain life. And thankfully I got to experience this trip with Frida, who I haven't seen since London. We ate lots of food, drank a lot of beer, spent far too much time in the hot tub, floated down the Little River, and drove to the highest point in Tennessee. It was a nice mini-adventure to share with her.