Photo of the Week # 14

"Moore" Adventure ~ October, 2009

Dad and me at "Sugarland Overlook" in Grayson Highlands State Park!

Manventure: The Motion Picture

November, 2007

Shenandoah National Park, VA ~ the Appalachian Trail

Humpback Rocks

Music: "The Last of the Mohicans," original motion picture score by Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman

The Youngest Country in the World

NEW ZEALAND!

a.k.a. Middle Earth, home to Elves, Orcs, and Dwarves, per Peter Jackson, J.R.R. Tolkien, and company...

It is also a land apart from time, the youngest country in the world, as in the last major landmass to be discovered! It is a wild island country with massive mountain ranges and bodies of water. Who wouldn't want to go there??

The Legend of New Zealand



Adventure in New Zealand



One of these days, my friends. One of these days.

Photo of the Week # 6

On the Edge

December, 2005

McAfee's Knob in Roanoke, VA... most photographed spot on the A.T.



Rich Wills livin' close to the edge...



Photo by Zachary Burton

Photo of the Week # 4

Monadnock Sanctuary

June, 2009

Jomeokee Mountain (also known as Pilot Mountain) in Mt. Airy, North Carolina


Photo by Sir Evan on a day trip with his friends, Tim and Kearsten Lee

Photo of the Week # 2

Dawn on the Mountain
March, 2007

The Priest Mountain, Nelson County, VA

George Washington National Forest/The Priest Wilderness

Elevation: 4,063 feet
17 degrees plus windchill factor


Photo by Sir Evan, Nikon CoolPix L3

Blue Ridge Days... Rocky Mount Day Hike

April, 2008

It's hard to believe how much time has passed since I've been in Winston-Salem. A year ago I was working full time at Blue Ridge Mountain Sports, receiving inventory, selling gear, and helping run a store. I was also going on a considerable number of day hikes with numerous friends, among them, Dan the Man! It was around this time last year when we ventured to Skyline Drive, out in Shenandoah National Park (SNP), for a vigorous hike on the Rocky Mount Trail. It is one of the only 9+ mile circuit hikes in SNP, and with nearly 3,000 feet in elevation gain, it is a strenuous (and rewarding) climb!

We park the car at an impressive overlook and take a jaunt down Skyline Drive till we encounter the trail head, marked with a blue blaze and sign. The trail immediately descends into dense forest, indicating the upward battle we will later endure. Within the first mile of hiking, we come across a glistening, reflective pool, fed by a narrow stream, which Dan somehow manages to step in, resulting in soggy hiking shoes. I make fun of him, but he easily shrugs it off and probably finds a clever way to throw it back on me. This type of dialogue is most common between us and oddly entertaining. A mile or two later, we take a break in a sunny glen, set apart from the trail adjacent to another brook. Bugs are out but unobtrusive, and the water looks clean enough to drink. The grass is neon green, interspersed with slim, towering trees. It seems too good to be true, and even now, I can't believe how perfect a spot it was. We don't stay long, though, and return to the task at hand.

Soon, the trail grows steeper, and we are forced to climb hard, all the while, crossing streams, hopping across rocks, and wheezing like asthmatics. We've descended so far; now we must reclaim that cursed elevation. Eventually, the dirt trail gives way to "riprap:" countless, shifting, granite, sun-reflecting rocks. They are a royal pain in the butt, as they roll and tumble right out from beneath your feet. I also have to put my sunglasses on because of the glare, and by now it is hot. Sweat stings my eyes and clouds my vision.

As we traverse this tricky portion of the trail, we notice two bear cubs scurry across the trail up ahead and shimmy up a tree. We stop and stare. This is amazing! I can't get my camera out fast enough. But wait just a second. We realize where there are baby bears...there is sure to be a mother bear. And mother bears are fiercely protective. There is little talking about it. We make haste, continually looking over our shoulders.

From here, the trail intensifies. It is ridiculously steep, and we are moving too fast. I urge Dan to slow his pace, but he says he's out here "to get it on!" Even if it kills him, apparently, as one could hear him rasping from a mile away. In short, we make it to the summit of Rocky Mount by lunch time, and I nearly collapse from lack of oxygen. But we made it, and, boy, what a view!

After lunch, we hit the remaining segment of the trail. By now we are exhausted. Therefore, the last couple hours are a blur. When we return to the car it is late in the afternoon. Some poor sap is just getting ready for a hike, strapping on his pack and lacing up his boots. Dan and I share looks of bewilderment. If this guy thinks he's hiking that trail before nightfall, he's in for one heck of a hike! We say as much in other words, but he's convinced otherwise. "Your funeral," Dan mutters.

In summary, the Rocky Mount trail in SNP is no easy stroll in the forest. But it is well worth the effort! Check it out if you get a chance. For more information, visit Hiking Upwards, the premiere online site for information on Virginia trails. Easily accessed from Skyline Drive, Rocky Mount is a feasible destination, no matter what direction you're coming from!

Rock Climbing at Table Rock Mountain

April, 2009

Chris, Taylor, and I stand at the base of Table Rock Mountain in the Linville Gorge, equipped in harness, helmet, and climbing shoes. It is a pleasantly warm afternoon. The sky is clear, and the bugs have not come out yet. We could not have asked for a better day. While Chris feeds rope through his belay device, Taylor and I observe Rich Chisholm, my manager at Great Outdoors, scurry up a sheer rock face, placing "pro" as he goes and demonstrating technique. He takes his time, explaining as he goes. Chris turns to me and says, "You know, he makes this look so easy."

As I will soon find out, rock climbing is much harder than it looks. For Taylor and I, this is our first climbing experience outside of a gym. Luckily, Chris has been out with Rich before and "knows the ropes" fairly well. Today, we are "multi-pitching," meaning we are climbing multiple lengths of rope. First, Rich must "lead climb" ahead of us, placing protection as he goes and trailing several ropes. Once he reaches the first ledge, he will anchor in and belay us. Therefore, we are actually "top roping," which is safer and more feasible for beginners. I, for one, am thankful, as this is an entirely new experience!

Once Rich reaches the first ledge, he rigs the anchor, and it is my turn to climb. I am nervous but excited. As I take to the rock, my climbing shoes stick, providing me with a level of traction I'm unaccustomed to. As I climb, I start to see what a vital function these shoes serve. At times, the footholds are so miniscule you can barely see them! From below, Chris and Taylor offer words of encouragement, and Rich, perched some distance above, calls down words of instruction. I am making progress, slithering up the face, stretching to the max, and exerting way more energy than necessary. "Just relax," Rich says. Now my legs are wobbling uncontrollably. Relaxing is not easy. Later, I learn the climbing lingo for this annoying phenomenon. "You had Elvis Legs," Rich says. "Your body was just reacting to using muscles it's not used to using."

As I reach the most difficult part of the first pitch, a horizontal route called a "traverse," I am sure to secure my orange line in the protection Rich has placed in the wall, while also removing Taylor's green line...or something like that. It's confusing in retrospect, and it was just as confusing while I was exposed on the rock face, overlooking the valley. With some difficulty, I scramble sideways and make it through the traverse. Now I am almost to the ledge and can see Rich ahead. As I climb over the lip and stand on solid ground, I can hardly breathe. This is no surprise, though, as I probably ceased to perform that essential bodily function while I was hanging eighty feet above the ground.

Thirty minutes later, Chris and Taylor - climbing together - will join us on the ledge. Taylor, after a short fall, regains her composure and pushes onward. A Wake Forest cheerleader, she is strong and flexible and adapts to the challenges quickly. Taking up the rear, Chris cleans the route, removing the cams and stoppers. He exhibits the confidence of a climber, and I'm grateful he's with us.

From here, things get a little harrier. As if the first hundred foot pitch is not enough, since I am already exhausted, we have another pitch to go. And up Rich goes! We watch him scramble up the vertical face until he's out of sight, and then we realize that could present a problem. Also a problem is our overall inability to communicate, as it has become rather windy on the mountainside. Eventually, Rich reaches "Lunch Ledge" and yanks on the ropes to give us the signal. It is time.

I say a prayer, take a deep breath, and begin to climb. From the outset, there are complications, first and foremost, my mental game. I don't feel like I can do this. But to make matters worse, as I progress up the wall, trusting tiny holds and trying my hardest to depend more on my legs than my upper body, I come to a sudden stop. Something is amiss. The ropes have gotten tangled like a pretzel. Either it is the luck of the draw or I've done something wrong. Knowing me, it is probably the latter. Now I must down climb to right this error, a difficult task for any climber, let alone a beginner. As I struggle to descend what I have just climbed - a real blow to my morale - I get the Elvis Legs again and lose my footing. This is the moment I have been dreading all along, and now it is happening. I am falling.

It's funny how a story grows over time, because a 10 foot fall eventually becomes a 20 foot fall. Then, sometime later, a coworker approaches you with this concerned expression and says, "I'm glad you're okay! Heard about that 30 foot fall!"

In truth, it is probably only a 10 to 15 foot fall and mostly rope stretch, at that. But it is painful and - if I'm honest - very scary. It is not your typical "whipper" fall into an empty void; rather, it is a slide down the rock face, scraping and banging your knees and elbows kind of fall. Rich does catch me, of course, as I knew he would, and eventually I am lowered back to the ledge, although my violent plummet ended a mere 4 feet above that ledge, meaning I was 4 feet from breaking my legs and ricocheting off the mountainside. Or maybe not. I tend to be a little dramatic.

Suffice to say, I do not make the second pitch. Chris Gilpin, the hero of the day, manages the tricky ascent in my place and relays everything to Rich. Since it is getting late in the day, we cannot communicate with each other, and I am unable to go on, we call it a day and rappel down. When I feel firm ground beneath my feet, a wave of relief washes over me. I have never been more relieved! A random climber sits at the base of the mountain and sees me descend. I tell him about my fall, and he asks me if I'll ever give it another shot. I think about it for a second and respond, "Probably, but not right away." He grins and nods. "It'll be different next time." Rich says the same once we are all reunited on ground level and that even making it up the first pitch is a great accomplishment.

So I will focus on the positives from this adventure. I climbed a hundred feet up Table Rock Mountain, saw an impressive, early-spring view of the countryside, fell 15 feet, and survived to climb another day!

Flying Among Mountains

Man Learns to Fly!

If you've ever dreamed of flying...watch this video! This is the most amazing thing I've seen in a while! It's actually old news, but it's sort of new to me and probably to a lot of other people out there, as well. These guys literally fly at 100 mph! Technically, they are gliding, but it's through these "wingsuits," that they become like flying squirrels, soaring over mountain tops, buzzing past cliffs, practically, "scraping their fingernails," as one guy words it. This is unbelievable! If I didn't value my life so much, I would want to do this!

And I think what amazes me so much is how simple it is! The technology behind it is so basic. For some reason, I always figured if man ever learned to fly it would be through some seriously advanced technology...like a jet pack or something. But these guys have basically proven all it takes is a special suit that catches the wind and some serious courage. I can only imagine how freeing it must feel to fly among the mountains!

What Have YOU Done Lately?

Check out the awesomeness...

This video will mostly speak for itself, but WOW! We live in such an amazing world, where anything is possible! Sometimes, life is really put in perspective, as well, when you watch people doing such outstanding things in such incredible places. Next year I will definitely have to try and see some of these films!

Watch. Enjoy. Watch again.



I can't help but ask myself the question... What have you done lately?

On the Summit

Kenny and I explore Table Rock... After such a strenuous hike, we are happy to be there! Somewhere near this point is where Chingachagook tells his adopted son, Hawk Eye, in "The Last of the Mohicans," that the white man will take this land from the Indians. He was right...

The Linville Gorge: North Carolina's Wilderness Frontier

March, 2009 ~ North Carolina

Kenny and I are in the Linville Gorge Wilderness, lumbering up the Little Table Rock Trail, and let me tell you: it's a doozy.

We have come to this pristine wilderness for an overnight backpacking venture across exposed ridges, rocky slopes, and precarious outcroppings; it is among North Carolina's greatest frontiers. Our journey begins near the base of Hawksbill Mountain. We heft our backpacks and embark down the Spence Ridge Trail. The Linville Gorge Wilderness, west of Morganton, NC, is host to numerous trails, offering plenty of opportunities for day hikes and multi-day backpacking endeavors. But, being a wilderness area, the trails are unmarked, so a map and a plan of attack are essential. Kenny and I take a left onto the Little Table Rock Trail. It is early on, and we feel fresh. We have no idea how steep it will soon become.

A mile later, we stagger onto the first rock outcropping, where we are presented with an impressive view of the gorge. The Linville River snakes through the basin below and is surrounded by steep, rock walls. We have an obscured vantage on Table Rock Mountain, our destination. After a bite to eat, we carry on and quickly intersect the Mountains to Sea Trail, which takes us to the Table Rock spur.

The steepness increases. We push on, feeling the burn in our hamstring and calf muscles. It seems the higher we climb, the heavier our packs weigh. Gravity tries its hardest to pull us down. But, at the same time, the mountain emboldens us. It beckons to be explored. It lures us with its solid presence. This mountain is powerful.

As we reach the top of Table Rock Mountain and see the magnificent Linville Gorge in its entirety, our exhaustion and frustration vanish. This view was worth it. In the distance, we see Lake James, where they filmed some pivotal scenes for the film, "The Last of the Mohicans." On a sunny day, it would surely shimmer, but today the skies are overcast. The anticipation of rain has hung over us since we began our trek, but it looks as if the hazy clouds on the horizon are going to miss us. We are deeply thankful.

We explore the summit of Table Rock, recognize another spot from Michael Mann's frontier epic, and shoulder our packs for the return journey. What we just came up, we must now go down. While going downhill is easier on one's respiratory system, it is far more strenuous on one's knee joints. As we descend the mountain, I feel a burning sensation in my knees, a nuisance I have had to deal with since my hiking injury in '07.

Eventually, we reconnect with the Spence Ridge Trail and turn left towards the Linville River. A mile later, we arrive at the bottom of the gorge. The water is deep, and class III rapids rage up river; water gushes over rocks, and strong currents sweep underneath the two wooden bridges that cross the river. They are narrow and single-railed, so Kenny and I maneuver over them carefully.

As we enjoy the lively sounds of the water, we are greeted by several college students, whom we first encountered on Table Rock. The leader of their pack carries an empty liquor bottle, and - words slightly slurred - tries his darndest to convince us to sleep in "that sweet cave over there!" He points downriver, and we kind of nod, giving them something to get excited about, and they go on their merry way. Kenny and I quickly decide against sleeping in the "death cave," as neither of us are keen on being eaten by a bear or drowned in a flash flood.

Later, we hike a quarter mile back up the trail, till we find a suitable campsite by a babbling brook. There, we take a load off and reflect on our exciting day. Kenny soaks his feet in the cold stream, and I snap some shots of the water cascading over mossy stones. Building a fire proves challenging, since most of the wood is damp, but we manage, somehow, to get a fine flame going, and we pass the evening in its warm glow.

We wake up the next morning at 5 am; Kenny has an engagement to attend in Greensboro at 10 o'clock. So we hike the last mile of our journey in the dark, led by the LED beam of my headlight. For Kenny, this is a trip of firsts - his first backpacking adventure, his first taste of "backpacking food," which is always delicious when you're starving, and his first hike in the dark. By its indiglo light, my watch reads 7 am when we reach the car. As we load our packs and prepare for the return voyage, we thank God for his grace upon us. We are tired, but energized. Dry and joyful. We have been to and from the mountains, and we will surely return, because we were made for the wild. But for now, it is time to go home.