Roan Mt


Another Mr. Bob/Mr. Tom trip. This one to Roan Mountain which is just across the Tennessee state line. Bob wanted to see the part of the Appalachian Trail that crosses here - maybe walk a bit of it. However the temperature was too cold - about 45 degrees - for our clothes. The trees had not turned green yet - it is about 6,000 feet here. I will come back and try again. The photo on top is of one of  the "balds" - which I imagine to be mountain meadows. Not visible are tiny people on the winding trial up. Bottom picture is view from nearby.


Took the usual side trip around Shelby  - then 226/221 past the McDonalds where we pee and sometime get biscuits - across the Parkway near the little restaurant where various of us have stopped -  past Humpback Road where John Ladley Burns of my and Bob's childhood lives - through Spruce Pines with signs to Penland the art place visited by some of us - then 94  - then the mountain - then the state line - then the crossing trails.

Sitting where the AT comes out of the woods to cross the parking lot were a German couple. I asked if they were doing the whole thing. They seemed surprised when I spoke. In broken English, they said they started in March (from Georgia?) and will go to Maine. Bob figures they have gone about 400 miles so far and have another 1,800 to go. At 12 miles per day the entire thing would take 183 days. Averaging 30 days/month is about six months - say September for this couple.

Some people/person had placed food inside the privy building. Although it is clear what the food was for, it could have been left by various people in various ways.

I have seen entrances to the trail two times (or so I remember) - once in the fog crossing the mountain into Burke's Garden and this time. Both entrances seemed to offer passage into a ghost world, The German couple were like ghosts . Neither friendly or unfriendly. Seeming to belong somewhere else. These two pictures are of Burke's Garden crossing.

Bob had to remind me of the Burke Garden passage. Yancie also has to remind me of things. I have forgotten a lot.  If I cannot remember an event did it really happened?  Maybe this is a good thing; if you loose the past then you cannot dwell on it. But it doesn't seem that way.  Existence seems defined by memories. (Is it the same thing with writing?)

Past the fog, nearing the Garden.

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