The alarm was ringing, but it really wasn't light out yet. It was my day off and it was 6 am, wha? At times like this, there were only two possibilities: I'd either found my way into the Twilight Zone, or I was going hiking. Thankfully thus far, I have only experienced the latter.
A trip to the Walls of Jericho was on the agenda. A state park in both northern Alabama and Southern Tennessee, the websites call it "The Grand Canyon of the South." I'd been hiking in the actual Grand Canyon, so I was curious to see how the Walls would match up.
Fellowship, Cliffs of Doom, and unfettered creativity in the Alabama wilderness. That sums up the Wandering Men's first Writer's Retreat, but if you aren't satisfied with the "CliffsNotes" version then please, read on.
The path, a long, straight bed that once held tracks where trains passed in the late 1800's, led along the side of the heavily-forested slope. The climb to the path, steep and arduous, served only to energize the excited explorers. Hall, Ashy, and I, along with another close friend, carried lanterns, rope, gloves, and mapping materials. Though sweaty from the summer’s heat, our excitement rose with every climb in elevation. Though we had hiked many a long trail, this was our first adventure beyond the path and into places not open to the public.
What's this?!?
The Wandering Men are infamous for our forays into the wilderness; while we're on these trips, we often record our experiences in journals. This is a journal entry, in text and audio format!
Sipsey Wilderness: Sunday, September 28th, 2003 (1:00 PM)
Today we awoke to a fine fall morning - cool enough to make you thankful for a crackling fire but not so cold to need a sweater. After a fine breakfast and breaking camp (which seemed more like play than work) we set out with the knowledge that we had hiked far more than we had thought the day previous - somewhere closer to 15 miles. Now, we have stopped for lunch on a lovely little hillock overlooking Thompson River - the sun filters in through the golden leaves and warms us nicely as the cool breeze dries the sweat from our brows. I look to my companions and I am thankful to be among them, here in this lovely place.
Stan amazes me with his determined resolution - he has hurt his knee and having myself endured that same injury on the trail in times past, I know that each step pains him. Still, he continues onward, without a word of complaint. Davis, as always, is the very essence of a skilled and knowledgeable woodsman. I have learned so much from him in the past decade plus of our hiking together that I will never be able to repay him. I am honored to call him my best friend. Now, we look towards the trail again, and its conclusion. I, for one, cannot wait to see my wife's smile and my children's faces. It has been, and will continue to be, a very good day.
Use the controls below to play the audio version of this journal, or you can download it below!
What's this?!?
The Wandering Men are infamous for our forays into the wilderness; while we're on these trips, we often record our experiences in journals. This is a journal entry, in text and audio format!
The fire burns low and I and my companions: Davis and Stan are weary, yet somehow refreshed. Today marked a new era in our hiking forays - we entered into the realm of the Sipsey for the first time. The day, as all days while hiking, was mixed. It began (as most do) with a bout of enthusiasm and excitement but as the day wore on and the many miles passed beneath our boots, our thoughts turned inward and away from the beautiful scenery around us. We saw many things today - a tulip poplar over 100 feet tall, flanked by trickling waterfalls that spanned 60 feet in height; we trudged many miles - close to 12, by our reckoning through rattlesnake-infested woods, shimmering ridge tops, and murky river bottoms. While the scenery is there for us to view, marvel at and be ultimately thankful for, I believe that it is the inner journey that each of us undergoes that truly draws us, again and again, to these places.
Now, as we sit around the slowly dying embers of our fire, with our freshly-washed, but still weary feet, sore - we think of the things that are most important to us. Our heavenly father, our wives and families, our many blessings and loved ones, and our friends who could not be here with us. We are each very thankful, I think, for the miles behind us and as we look up into the velvet night, afire with a thousand million twinkling stars, we think of the journeys we have taken inwardly, which cannot be measured by miles alone.
Use the controls below to play the audio version of this journal, or you can download it below!
The Wandering Men have just returned from their annual Writers' Retreat and let me tell you: our fires are stoked and ready to blaze! We were blessed with three days ans two nights in a beautiful chalet in Lake Guntersville, Alabama; cold but glorious weather; more food than we could eat; and excellent friends and writing companions to share it with!
