Great Smoky Mountains (i): Gatlinburg, Charlie, & Rocks

This has become kind of my de-stress formula: drive somewhere alone, hike, listen to a lot of This American Life. I've found its effectiveness lies in exhaustion and diversion. Long drives and strenuous hikes are draining to the point where my ability to concentrate is reduced to single subjects - staying awake at the wheel or my next step. During stretches of drives without the threat of spontaneous naps, TAL is so thoroughly immersive that my own thoughts and feelings are replaced by those of the people in each episode. In recent years, it's become a good way to clear my head. I've been in need of some decompression, so I undertook a quick and dirty road trip this weekend. The first for my new car, perhaps of many.



On Friday night, I took a nap for a few hours after work and left my house at around 1am. I was heading to Great Smoky Mountains National Park in Tennessee. I drove through the night and arrived at the outskirts of the park just before noon. Before I go into anything else, I need to point out that Gatlinburg (the town just outside one of the main entrances to the park) is utterly repulsive. Imagine a trashy beach boardwalk mixed with a county fair and spread it out over a 10 mile stretch of road and you'll have an idea of what this town is like. Kitschy amusements and rides, arcades, novelty attractions, souvenir shops, untold numbers of KFCs, every manner of mini-golf courses - all rendered in oppressively bright, garish primary colors. I couldn't fathom what the hordes of tank-top clad, overweight white families were doing in this nightmare of uncultured consumer purgatory right in the shadow of the Smokies. The only redeeming thing about this place was the abundance of Chik-fil-As.

When I finally passed through Gatlinburg and entered the park, the byways were still pretty clogged with families milling about. It wasn't until I got to the section of the Appalachian Trail that I was headed to that the crowds thinned. I was hiking a 10 mile section to a place called Charlie's Bunion. So named for some historical guy and a foot injury or something. The bunion in question is a rocky outcropping along a high headland a couple of miles off from the AT. This section runs along the peaks such that it feels like walking atop the spine of the Appalachians at around 5-6000 feet and there are views of both sides of the range. Like I mentioned before, part of what I enjoy about hiking is the opportunity to tire myself out to the point of no longer thinking about everything. The other part is the sheer silence and solitude one can achieve sometimes. Nothing but the sound of gravel crunching underfoot, the Doppler buzzing of flying insects, the twittering of birds, the glug-glug of the water in my backpack, my labored breathing. Only the occasional and faint echo of voices of fellow hikers to dispel the illusion of isolation.



I'm not sure if this is unusual or not, but I really enjoy the sound of rocks against rocks. On particularly rocky portions of trails I'll deliberately drag my feet to push rocks into one another just to hear them clink and clack. There's just something so gratifyingly tactile about it. I guess it might be similar to how people love to pop bubble wrap, but less about the feel so much as the sound of it.



I'm going to leave the rest of this post for tomorrow. While my body has always proven to be extraordinarily resilient - in that I slept 3 hours Friday night, drove 9 hours, hiked for 7 hours, slept 2 hours, hiked again, then drove another 9 hours back home, all while eating only one real meal, and am still conscious - I'm reaching a point where I'm going to crash in spectacular fashion. I'm having trouble focusing my vision and my depth perception is getting very unreliable. Tomorrow will be tiring, but this weekend was a good opportunity to clear some cobwebs.

Monday awaits.

4th & U

Not one for crowds of biblical proportions, I spent this 4th of July with some friends at a new rooftop bar on U St. (the Brixton). It's a British bar and, nursing a German beer, the irony was not lost on me. Nevertheless, we had a clear view of the fireworks. It was an enjoyable evening and a welcome mid-week diversion. It's just unfortunate that tomorrow is a work day.



In other news, after weeks of compulsively scouring travel sites for a good deal on a flight, I'm going to Japan from September 7-17th. It's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. My tentative itinerary is to spend the first few days in Tokyo, then a day or so in Kyoto, maybe do the Magome-Tsumago hike, then to Fukuoka-Hakata for ramen. Fukuoka is pretty far west from Tokyo and, despite the travel time involved, I don't think I can be in Japan and NOT go there to eat the best ramen in the world.

It's amazing how having something to look forward to can make work less tedious.

this hushed and mazy sunday

He crossed the cabin and stretched himself out on the cot. Closing his eyes. A faint breeze from the window stirring his hair. The shantyboat trembled slightly in the river and one of the steel drums beneath the floor expanded in the heat with a melancholy bong. Eyes resting. This hushed and mazy Sunday. The heart beneath the breastbone pumping. The blood on its appointed rounds. Life in small places, narrow crannies. In the leaves, the toad's pulse. The delicate cellular warfare in a waterdrop. A dextrocardiac, said the smiling doctor. Your heart's in the right place. Weathershrunk and loveless. The skin drawn and split like an overripe fruit.

Suttree, Cormac McCarthy

A + S

A classmate of mine from BU is in town for a few days. Another classmate is currently working in D.C., but works too much to ever get around to doing or seeing anything. So today involved running around eating/seeing a bunch of usual D.C. things. Brunch in Logan Circle, Eastern Market, memorials, checked out the NY Ave. Beach Bar, and a few other things. While reviewing my pictures at the end of the day, they joked that it looked like a full day following a lesbian couple. I'm inclined to agree. It was unreasonably hot today.



I'm also currently in possession of a friend's 60D for a few days. It's really making me aware of how dated my camera is. The impending prospect of international travel also makes me painfully aware that I am overdue for an upgrade.

Maps

Sometimes I open Google Maps, zoom out a bit, and just stare. I think of my work schedule and where I could reasonably drive to to steal a few days of solitude and quiet. One weekend soon, I'll throw some clothes in my bag and hop in my car.