An Attempt At Writing

Written on November 28, 2022 and titled "An Attempt at Writing." A short story covering a two day trip to the Great Smokie Mountains & how it rekindled a relationship with my best friend.

Sitting in the hotel lobby, waiting, wondering, pondering. Dad and I hiked a doozy yesterday…

After visiting my sister, Rylie, in Nashville for Thanksgiving, we headed over to the Great Smoky Mountains to perch upon Clingman’s Dome and summit Mt. LeConte…well at least try.

The first of the two stops was Clingman’s Dome. A well known tourist attraction as it marks the highest point in the state of Tennessee. To get there isn’t super challenging. It requires about a fifteen or twenty mile drive into the park followed by a five or seven mile drive up Clingman’s Dome Rd. If you continue to the top of Clingman’s Dome Rd, you will find parking spots and bathrooms and whatnot, but it appeared to be a busy day (or time of) causing us to park alongside the road leading to the start of the trailhead. Although paved and only a half mile in length, the trail to the dome requires some work. In fact, many people step off to the side to catch their panting breaths. At the top of the mountain lies a watch tower-like dome with a spiraling walk ramp to allow access to the public. The 360 degree view from the dome is awe-inspiring. On a clear day, you can see for miles with beautiful mountain silhouettes in each direction that you look. Like most people, we took a few pictures and began our trek downward. Our next venture was to summit Mt. LeConte…so we thought.

Mt. LeConte is the third highest peak in the state of Tennessee providing attractive views to all of its visitors. There are multiple trails leading to its summit, and the one we chose was Alum Cave Trail. After snagging the last spot in the trailhead parking lot, we began on our hike around 1:30pm. Consistent with most hiking trails, there was a trail map and description at the start of the trail. However, Dad and I unintentionally disregarded it, failing to realize what we were getting ourselves into. Soon we would taste a slice of the “humbled pie” that this trail was eager to serve us.

Initially the trail seemed pretty smooth and simple. There was a slight grade, but I never would have guessed it to be the beginning of an ascend to a peak 6,593 ft above. Yes, Dad and I had no idea we were hiking up a mountain of this caliber. Being from Pittsburgh, we don’t typically see many mountains that large, let alone hikes to the tops of said mountains. As the youth of today says, “We got caught lacking.” I’m sure there’s some of you out there saying “Oh, that’s nothing” and yes, it may be nothing, but when you are expecting a slightly above-average walk through the woods, a hike like this would definitely catch you off guard. Anyways, the first leg of the trail was easy-peasy. A steady upward grade alongside a majestic mountain stream. Around three quarters to a mile or so(these distances are guesswork fyi), we reached a set of stairs climbing through a small cave. Taking a moment to appreciate the mystery of this cave, we continued on our journey up Mt. Leconte, still assuming this was just a walk through the woods.

Our assumption would soon become shattered. After that mini cave, the intensity of the hike began to pick up. The grade became steeper and more rugged, but we kept on walking. We eventually reached the halfway point, the Alum Cave Bluffs. This is an area where part of the mountain hangs over the trail. It’s very interesting and will make you stop and think twice about how the hell something like that even happens. Views like that are what makes hiking worthwhile to me. I am eternally attracted to the mystery brought from those types of experiences.

Most people decide to head back after reaching the bluffs. I can’t blame them as the second half of the hike is no joke. Continuing on a fairly steep grade up, the hike became quieter and quieter. The silence that the mountain brings is soul cleansing. It is the type of silence we all need at some point in our life. In addition, the views kept getting better and better. I guess that is the trade off for partaking in any type of difficult work-the reward. The hardest things often present the grandest gifts. Gifts that you don’t feel guilty accepting. Gifts that you feel you truly have earned. Allowing you to enjoy them fully and presently.

About 5/8’s of the way up (passed halfway and not quite 3/4), I started to see my Dad struggling. He’s 51 years old and in above average shape for his age, I would say. As I said earlier though, the second half of the trail is no joke. The constant upward grade combined with the thinner air as you reach higher elevations can take a toll on most people. Dad being one of them. Stubborn and semi-delusional, he ordered we continue on. At one point, we ran in to some fellow lady hikers and asked them about how much further we had…”Oh, you’ve got a ways. But it’s worth it if you get to the top. And if you’re willing to hike back in the dark.” We trudged on. Dad on death’s doorstep, and me trying to focus on breathing in-n-out through my nose.

Around a mile or so from the top, we began to wonder if it was worth it. As the ladies mentioned above, we would have to hike back in the dark. Being unfamiliar with this trail and land in general, the second guessing became easier and easier. It’s dark, our joints and feet ache, our stomachs are growling and our minds contemplating all of the decisions we made up to this point. Yet we kept on walking. We pushed our way to the campsite just below the summit of the mountain. The campsite looked like a remote, mini-village atop a massive mountain. It was so bizarre and fascinating. Apparently, they have llamas carry supplies up there during the camping season. Who would’ve thought? Dad was satisfied with reaching the village, but I knew there was another 0.2 miles to reach the summit. This is where I folded. Unwilling to leave Dad to himself and journey to the summit alone, we decided to make our way back down after snacking on some granola bars and dried fruit. Part of me is still upset that I bailed on the summit. Oh well. It makes good reason for coming back.

Our descent began around 4:30pm. Sunset is at 5:20. It probably gets dark-dark around 6 or 6:30. It was inevitable that we would be hiking in the pitch black. Having never done that before, we carried downwards at a pretty steady pace. Oddly enough, it feels as if the way down puts more stress on the joints of the lower body. Focusing on the satisfaction that we would get once we made it to the truck is what kept us going-and the fact that we planned on stopping at Pal’s Sudden Service on the way out. Still visible without a flashlight, we made it to the halfway point. Dad’s knees began to lock up as we climbed down sets of steep stairs on our way past the bluffs. Luckily, Dad had packed a small flashlight in his backpack. Without it, we would of only had our phone lights to use, and who knows how much battery we had left. The darkness brought an eerie feeling to the hike. Dad lead the way back as he wielded the light. Without it, we could not see much, if at all. Every so often, I would glance behind us to check our six and ensure that there were no predators lurking on us. We continued on anxiously.

Approaching our starting point, the second guessing thoughts came back once again. We had no idea where we were, or if we made a wrong turn or not. It was impossible to tell in the dark. What we saw was what the flashlight illuminated-nothing more, nothing less. Following alongside the stream, we kept heading straight ahead into what seemed to be nothingness. It’s interesting how much further a distance seems when you are in the dark. I’m not sure if it’s because you have nothing to gage your distance off of or because you become so focused on each step, trying your best not to eat shit or fall off a cliff. Regardless, we made it to the trailhead. Hallelujah! In the distance, we could see Dad’s white, RAM Truck. It would be safe to say we have never been as glad to see the truck as we were in that moment. Full of glory and satisfaction, we hopped in the truck and made our way out of the park.

Unfortunately, I had to drive out of the park. It was only fair as Dad was the one who brought us there. It was now my job to get us safely to Pal’s Sudden Service in Bristol, TN (or maybe VA).

For those of you who have never heard of Pal’s Sudden Service, I am sorry to hear that. Pal’s is a small fast food chain located throughout northeastern Tennessee and southwestern Virginia. They have a very unique building shape and size. The menu is small and simple, but the food is extraordinary in taste. It is by no means fancy, but each time I have been there the food has been prepared to perfection. Never a bad experience, ever. I was very determined to get there, but one thing I hate doing is driving at night. I will drive all day from sunrise to sunset, but the moment the car headlights come on is wraps for me. I sucked it up and slowly but surely got us to where we needed to be.

The drive there was unique to say the least. Taking us through the Christmas decorated town of Gatlinburg and the boonies of eastern Tennessee. It made it easy to stay awake because dozing off for even a second would have kept me from writing this post. About thirty minutes from the Pal’s on our GPS, we pulled off to get gas as the price was only $2.95 per gallon (typically $3.95 at home). With me still behind the wheel, Dad grabbed a well deserved six pack of Bud Light to soothe his sore  and aching body. We got back on our designated route to Pal’s. Ten minutes or so later we stumbled upon the first town that showed any signs of life since Gatlinburg. Cruising through the town, I happened to notice a Pal’s ahead on the left. Ecstatic and starving, we decided to pull into that Pal’s. Dad claimed he was going to get one of everything on the menu as I just laughed knowing he had never been to Pal’s before.

Pal’s isn’t your typical fast food joint by any means. Everything is pristine from their landscaping to the architecture to the employee uniforms to the way the food is packaged. In addition, the burgers are massive. Close to a pound in weight, a ‘Double Big Pal’ will satisfy the hungriest of folks. Dad still decided to order two. I got one with a vanilla shake, and we both got an order of fries. I can speak for the both of us when I say that that meal hit the spot. Satisfying a long day of work and interesting experiences.

The last stop was a Courtyard Marriott in Bristol, VA. Bristol is about five and a half hours from Pittsburgh, making it a solid stopping point. As we pulled into the Marriott parking lot, it felt like I was fourteen years old again and arriving at the hotel we were spending the weekend at for a baseball tournament. Those were the types of trips my Dad and I took when I was younger. Every weekend from the early spring to late summer, heading somewhere to play baseball. It’s been a while since we’ve gone on a trip like that…just him and I.

The Courtyard was a classic stay. A spacious room with two queen beds located on the second floor. The elevator ride up smelt of used cigarettes, but we didn’t care. Exhausted and ready to crash, we took turns showering off the mud from the hike. I must say, the water pressure of the shower was superb. God bless that. Moments later we were both out with no alarm set for the next day.

Waking up around 7am, I quietly made my way to the lobby to do my typical morning routine. With Dad still asleep, I decided to walk over to Starbucks to grab a coffee with espresso for the two of us. Soon after I got back, Dad had awakened and notified me that he was ready to go. We packed up the truck and began the drive home.

We drove for an hour or two before we stopped to eat at Bob Evan’s somewhere in West Virginia. Another classic move. Dad got the “Farmer’s Choice” while I decided on “The Whole Hog.” We put down the food faster than it took us to cash out our check…The staff at Bob Evan’s was struggling to say the least. Back on the road, Dad decided to make a pit stop at the New River Gorge off US 19 North outside Summersville, WV.

The New River Gorge is the tallest bridge in the Western Hemisphere, standing around 800ft tall. It is another interesting object to look at. You can view the Bridge and the rushing water of the New River from a scenic lookout nestled into the side of the hill or from the valley below. I must say, viewing the bridge from the valley is mind bending. With the clouds in the sky moving behind it, it makes the bridge appear as if it were rocking in the wind. Very trippy.

Being the cold water addict that I am, I decided to take a dip into the New River. The weather outside was above average for November with the temperature sitting around 70 degrees. The water was still pretty damn cold. Stepping into the water instantaneously made me want to get out of it. That is exactly when to stay in. Your mind is always going to attempt to trick you out of doing the things you know you should be doing. It will try to justify every reason not to do what you know you should do. Don’t listen to it. Don’t take it too seriously. Eventually the volume of that demon will be easier to turn down. The rest of the drive home was filled with murder trials and mysteries from NBC’s Dateline. Dad has an ear for those types of stories. I just kept typing away until the iPad ran out of juice, which wasn’t much longer.

So, here I am, finishing this story on the island counter in our kitchen. We made it home safely, and I am grateful for that…

But I am even more grateful for hiking and what it has done for my relationship with Dad. It (along with our dog, Hobbs) has rekindled our relationship. We once again have something we enjoy doing together.

It’s easy to go through life and drift away from the people you love most. It’s almost like it’s necessary in a way. To understand the value of a thing you once had is only done by losing that thing. Our relationship was lost for a good bit of time. It never felt right, and I knew that one day I would regret never taking the time to revive it. Thank God for hiking as it is the median for the conversations needed to revive our relationship. A trip like this one allowed me to step back and appreciate him as a human being. To take in each moment with him and realize how lucky I really am to have him in my life. Our relationship is something I will cherish till the end of my days.

If reading this speaks to a relationship that you have with someone in your life, take this as a sign to make an attempt to revive it before it is too late. You will never regret trying, but you may regret never making the effort.

Peace,

Logan