NC Year of the Trail: March 2023
March 2023 Days 60-90 Pictures
What March Taught…
March NC Year of the Trail 2023
March is my birthday month and it is special for me on its own terms. However, I especially love it because it often marks the transition out of the darkness of winter and into the fresh emergence of spring energy. This year, March became about exploring new terrain and connecting with other folks who love the outdoors and want to share their favorite spaces with me as I travel.
In true fashion, March, on Day 60, brought with it some wild weather. Daffodils are always the test strips of Spring’s arrival—how early will they bloom? Can they survive the “little winters?” Though I saw them on many February trails, I wanted to make sure and capture them for the first day of March. It was windy on the Deep Creek horse trail/Noland Creek, but change was most certainly in the air.
I was desperate for a change of scenery on Day 6, though short on time. Luckily, a friend suggested Smokemont. This is yet another area of the GSMNP that reminds visitors of past lives of those who were removed from their homes. And the tangles of laurel thickets only add to the secrecy of place. An early day storm had left the river swollen, making crossing a log footbridge a bit worrisome. How easily nature asserts its primary control. While I am often saddened by the loss of homes, I am also reminded that we (humans) are not the first here and we most certainly will not be the last.
Day 62 continued the string of insane weather, so I headed to the Cherokee Island Park for a very short walk through the bamboo. The wind was absolutely fierce and I missed how unexposed most trails leave us. Between the bamboo stalks was the only place I felt a peace for a moment, even though from the outside, it always looks so ominous. Onthis day, the bamboo sheiled me from the wind and the eyes of traffic. Sometimes we just need to not be exposed to the world to open up to ourselves.
Day 63 and 64 were welcome rays of sunshine. Trail builder and KY friend, Ben Brahman, came to town to check out Fire Mountain Trail system and we did a little tidying up after storms. The man even traveled with his own tools! We hiked and rode and sharing my home trail with someone who respects such places is truly a joy. This is directly opposed to the photo I have included that shows how some trail uses are quite the opposite in their regard for the space! Regardless, I love seeing a trail through a builder’s eyes. Rocks are opportunities, not barriers. We watched as water drained out of downed and then cut trees like a faucet and he told about how much it shocked him the first time he saw it happen and how he learned that they were used as conduits in older times. These trees hold so many secrets and may offer most of the ingenuity we seek.
On Day 65, my friend talked me into riding (hypothetically) a (hypothetical) trail that (hypothetically) might not be open to mountain biking (hypothetically). When we parked, we saw several white tailed deer and I am pretty sure they weren’t reading any signs either. In such (hypothetical) situations, it’s always good to travel with friends who are always keeping an eye out for what’s around the corner (hypothetically) like park rangers (hypothetically). Risks are a little less risky when we have co-pilots. They are also more fun.
Day 66, I found my marbles… literally. At least a pretty blue one in the FMT parking lot. The sun came out and I started feeling like myself again. I think being able to spend time with quality humans in the past few days brough new light to these trail experiences.Spring continued to bud on Day 67, as I stuck to my home trail. Birds and buds abound. Tiny holes in the ground of one section reminded me that while many of us emerge this time of year and seek the sun, other creatures burrow below, moving the earth beneath in ways we may never notice. Whole ecosystems subsist and perhaps, we should pay far more attention to what is below the surface in every situation. It may be more complex than we first observe.
Day 68 & 69 were rushed performances at the Farmstead and Fire Mountain, though even short periods of time tend to force my mind to consider new details that feed my writing. They are snapshots, sometimes blurry; but over time they puzzle together a fuller picture of the worldview. I am always surprised what images float to the surface when I am back at my desk.
On Day 70, Evan and I went to the Island Park in Bryson City. While this should be an easy, go-to, trail for me, unfortunately it has a reputation to not always be safe due to individuals who frequent it. We went midday and it was beautiful, with a few fishermen about. There was a huge hollow tree. It was looming and foreboding. Still, it was completely hollow. So many challenges in our life are like this. Even this trail felt too scary to go alone. In the end, the threat was empty. At least on this day.
Day 71 was the day before my birthday. I wanted to spend it alone. Planned it that way as birthdays in the past had proved disappointing. But something was changing. I was completely down, wallowing in a whole mess of self-pity. I decided that my trail of the day would be at the cemetery where my mother is buried. I visited her grave, spoke with her and continued my walk around. Quite often, I see or hear things during these visits that feel like signs to me. I think that is probably typical for people who are seeking meaning from a world other than this one. And while I can clearly say I did experience such signs, what was most surprising was that when I returned to the cabin for the evening, my friend Erin stopped by to visit and wish me happy birthday. She gave me a gift of a necklace with a rabbit on it, symbolizing resilience. That wouldn’t be unusual except that rabbits have always been my sign for my mother. She used to collect them. When she passed, my yard was filled with rabbits for days. It was December. This day showed me that these spaces like the cemetery hold not only memory but a connective energy. We bring importance to them and they return it to us.
So with renewed spirit, I returned to my favorite trail for Day 72, for my 42nd birthday spent at Fire Mountain. I treated myself to a fun ride. No pressure. No specific segments to hit. Just me and the squirrels and a gratitude to be alive and riding bikes over mountains at this point in my life.
On Day 73, I kind of got lost. But a very good kind of lost. I went to Monteith Farmstead Park in Dillsboro. I have been here before to take some photos and assumed this would be a quick walk. I walked up the hill, trying out new binoculars, and before I realized it, I was completely off trail and surrounded by briars and brush. Luckily, I wasn’t deep in the woods and could easily navigate my way out. I decided to make my way back down and check out the signage across the road. It led down to a rivercane-lined path that ran by the creek/river. It had clearly been there a long time, but I never bothered to walk it. The path kept winding around and visibility was minimal, even though it was a small section of land and homes lay just across the river. This tunnel of sorts intensified the sounds of birds all around. So, while moments before I tried to use my new binoculars to search out birds in the distance (to the point of getting lost), now I was surrounded by them—with them.
I took my little buddy Charlie with me on Day 74. We only had a few minutes as we waited on his older brother to finish track practice. As he suggested, we decided to drive up to the Road to Nowhere and explore a bit. The tunnel itself has become a bit of an art expo (some inappropriate for my ten-year-old). But his youthful point of view is always enlightening and though I have been through that tunnel dozens of times, he pointed out aspects I had long overlooked. Going “nowhere” is sometimes the best use of a little extra time.
Day 75 was back to business at Fire Mountain. With the Inferno race looming, it was time to see what my baseline was and how much work I have ahead of me. Luckily, Johnny Hicks had done some trail cleaning and they were running fast. I was glad to get that time in because Day 76 was merely a checkbox on my home trail due to rain and general laziness.
On Day 77, a good friend from college, Stosh Mintek, and his family came to visit. They have recently moved to Asheville and we are so excited that they are now close. They have the cutest little boy and our boys love taking care of little ones. We did not have a ton of time and the weather was brisk, so we took them to the Farmstead and up to Mingo Falls. It was a perfect introduction to what Cherokee has to offer without going too deep into the woods. I do wish we could spend more time with them and hiking with other families. Coordinating time is so difficult for everyone. Large group trail experiences is probably something I should seek out more often. It forces me to slow down and, as expected, indulge in others’ perspectives more.
Day 78 was back on the home trail saying hello to the goats who have returned. They love to follow and on Day 79, I was following Johnny, the master instructor of Fire Mountain as he helped navigate race lines with more efficiency (and avoid strange, red scat that I still can’t explain given our vegetation). Johnny is super low-key about his skills and no longer races, but I always PR after a lesson with him. In fact, I did on Day 80. He is probably the most encouraging instructor I have ever had as well. Johnny has been on these trails since before they were official trails, so he understands them in a way most people don’t. I think that is why he is also one of the most consistent caretakers of this place.
On Day 81, I almost forgot to hit a trail and had to make a quick, rain-soaked stop at Deep Creek before heading on to an event. I certainly wasn’t dressed for a wet trail walk, but this goal forced me out of the formal rush and helped me take a much needed breath before walking on stage. This day’s rain ensured that Day 82 was like churning butter at FMT. Johnny challenged me to standing more on my climbs and my calves were screaming after a short go at it. Day 83, I took a short stroll at FMT and noted how hospital workers have carved their own shortcut to the trails so they can enjoy them on their breaks even though they have access to many other activities. This was mirrored by the hollowed out tree I saw on my walk, one much like the ones that spout water when cut that Ben was telling me about. We all make our own paths at times. Even trees. One of the fascinating aspects to spending time on these trails is how differently my body reacts to each form of approach. Hiking, running (if I did it still), biking (different bikes and positions and speeds) all leave my body getting stronger in completely different ways. It can be the same trail and it speaks to my muscles in different languages with each adjustment. These spaces are so much more versatile than a piece of gym equipment. Their technology, I suppose nature’s technology, is unmatched by human ingenuity.
Day 84 was the beginning of a road trip. I am so fortunate that many event coordinators recognize my trail and cycling goals and are eager to help me plot routes that include trails. I stopped at Old Fort on my drive to Lexington. This is a trail system I have ridden before and allows for quick routes. In the parking lot a mother with two very small children unloaded her van. One of the boys had on his galoshes and was thrilled to just pedal through big mud puddles. He was here for the dirt and grime and splashes. I was, too.
Day 85 was a new (wet) trail day for me at Finch Park in Lexington. I wished so badly that I had more time to play around here. This was the first time I had to clear ducks from a trail. The system itself was packed into a fairly small footprint, so the turns were dizzying. This seems to be the embodiment of our daily rush. When we are short on space to stretch out (or time), the experience can be exhilarating but also leave us dizzy, even disoriented. And this is perfectly fine every now and again, but this trail was a reminder of my need for longitude and latitude attitude.
I got a bit of that on Day 86. As the evening wore on, I made a trip to Salem Lake in Winston Salem. This is a gorgeous mixed use park/trail encircling the lake. Absolutely NOTHING about the MTB trails was marked. I finally had to ask a couple if I was just allowed to ride anything that looked rideable in the woods around the main pea gravel trail. I found myself on something called the Jesus Trail and I still have no idea why it is called that. I’d love to return and ride more of these offshoot trails. Anytime I explore unmarked spaces, I get a shot of adrenaline. I thought a lot about what Johnny was saying about all the trails back home that are unmarked and hope one day I have the confidence to explore them more just like I do in this unfamiliar city. I went back to Salem Lake on Day 87 before I headed home. I just took a quick walk to confirm another MTB trail entrance point and reflect on the diversity of people I had witnessed on the trails the day before. It was heartening to see so many different types of people and groups of people enjoying the space together.
Back home on Day 88 (and exhausted), I did some quick rock hunting for an upcoming landscaping project. Over the next two days (89 and 90), I returned to FMT to prepare for the race. Johnny joined on one of these days and we focused on trusting the bike to make tight turns and did a little leaf clearing as well. He showed me where the old “Indian Trails” crisscrossed ridges and talked about how fearless he and his friends were when they were younger, but how much of that changes as we age. All of this seemed pretty typical until April rolled around…