River OM

Muir said it...Mountains speak and wise men listen

As do mountain streams

The river whispers if you listen

It will call you in

It becomes the focus of your meditation

Absorbed into the river 

A simple rise of a golden fish

The constant flow of life

A Smokey Mountain Wilderness

I came to dwell in the wilderness, not as one fleeing or hiding, but that I might realize, in a mature age, a dream of youth. Here, in the wild wood, I have found peace, cleanliness, health of body and mind. Here I can live the natural life, unfettered and unindebted. Here duty itself is pliant to any breath of fancy that may stir the buds of foliage of thought.

                                      -Horace Kephart 

The days spent in the Smokies were great. I have been in great need of some mountain time and as always the mountains never fail to deliver good tidings.  Since my home in Florida is no where near the mountains it requires an almost epic journey to get there. I am a lover of mountains whether they are found in the east or the west. If I could have favorite local mountains I would I have to claim the Blueridge Mountains. I love the Sierras, Rockies, and Cascades, but the  mountains of the southeast sort of feel like home in a way. I am accustomed to their ways and the bluegrass culture that surrounds them. The mountain culture I speak of is composed of beautiful streams with colorful native trout. The ancient character of these mountains is alive with the sounds of bluegrass and a range of  beauty from mountain laurel thickets to grassy balds.

Tenkara Rods near Deep Creek

A lazy afternoon in the Smokies...

Living in Florida makes a visit to the mountains an epic drive. My friends and I left on a Thursday night driving straight through for a Friday morning arrival at the Deep Creek Campground. We hiked into camp a little sore and tired from sleeping in the car, but we were on trail and that is all that mattered. While my friends slumbered away in their tents I looked to the sky for a brief moment or two before catching some Z's.

Lake Sylvan

Early morning fly fishing.

Boca sunset.

My classic tent.

I camped in this tent about 28 years ago on my first camping trip as a baby. Today I found out my dad still had it in the garage. Had to set it up. It definetely brings back great memories.

Wekiva early morning.