By dawn this morning, last week’s snow was almost completely gone. It was amazing, at least to me, how quickly it disappeared. I took my second cup of coffee (maybe it was my third) on a stroll around the place, just to notice, to see what rlse there was to see in the fog.
Yes, we were still socked-in.
Returning to the camper, I found Deb easing slowly into a mid-week day off. I tried to hang out and relax with her but couldn’t sit still. I very much needed to get back out.
Our Mountain Two trailcam had been offline the last few days, like Mountain One was not long ago. I expected that the problem was the same — dead batteries — so I grabbed an eight-pack of lithium AAs, told Deb what I was up to and headed toward the summit.
For a change, I chose to leave the Ranger parked in the shed and hiked up. It’s not far — maybe a hundred yards from the front door of the cabin, upslope from The Amphitheater. We haven’t yet cut a trail, and I’d made the climb only a couple of times before, but taking the path of least resistance this morning got me where I wanted to go without difficulty.
A fresh set of batteries was all the camera needed. It took only a few minutes to finish the job, and I spent plenty of time lingering up there before making my way down.
Walking up was, as it turned out, easier (and the way more apparent) than coming down. I’ll bring flagging tape next trip and mark the best route, which eventually we’ll transform into a trail.
Pre-packaged kerosene was back in stock at Walmart today, so Deb and I saddled up for a quick run to Flippin. Afterward I dropped the gallon jug of fuel at our neighbor’s garage and returned his torpedo heater, with our thanks.
In between, we made the most of an ordinary trip to town. The valley, we discovered, wasn’t cloaked in fog like The Mountain was — clouds clung to Hall Mountain and the high ridges, but the air was clear down below. It was great to find Crooked Creek full to its banks and flowing strong at the Flippin bridge for the first time since mid-summer, the result of snowmelt and persistent rain.
Up on the county road, we pulled off at a break in the trees, a place we hadn’t stopped before. The view to the north may not have been grand, but it’s Home. We smiled.
I was made to be here. I was made for days like this.
Not born — made. My entire Life has shaped the man who belongs in this place, doing these things.
Made.
I don’t expect you to understand that, but I had to say it.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB