The Adventures of Spanky and Rein - 50 Summits

Our Book - "Peaks of the East"

2007-12-31T09:00:00.002-05:00

Price Reduced to $15 plus $2.50 Shipping

Unbelievable! We actually did it! Spanky and I have written and published a book entitled "Peaks of the East." Amusing and entertaining chronicles of all our summits to date - 24 of em - hell thats half the lower 48. Please click on Peaks of the East for details.

Actual Reader Comments:

- I just finished reading your book last night - it is wonderful! It brought me back to reminiscing about my childhood, the simple life, and enjoying nature.
- A very enjoyable read.
- The book is timely and hits the right chords with a lot of us.
- Your book rocks!!
- We are living vicariously through you and Spanky.
- Loved the book!
- Finished the book this past week - a great romp!
- It's great! I'm loving it!
- Reading the book, I feel like you are talking directly to me telling me your stories.
- Your love for Spanky comes through on every page.
- Reminds me a lot of Andy Rooney or maybe Bill Bryson.

Meet Spanky

2007-12-31T08:55:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone! My name is Spanky. As you can see, I'm a dog! I live with this dude named Rein Krevald (Weird name isn't it? he is Estonian - more on that later). The two of us are creating this blog to share our mountain climbing adventures with you. We are traveling around the country in our Dodge Ram pickup, hitting the summit of each state, and reporting our escapades to you. Hope you enjoy it. We sure as hell do! Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrf!

Spanky

PS You can click on "comments" below each post to add a little feedback. A little note on organization of our posts - we are posting our most recent updates last - the intent being that this reads more like a book - intro first, then our intitial summits etc. So go to the Table of Contents on the right to select the post/chapter you want to look at. And........if you want to see some great pics, click on "Spanky & Rein's Web Album" in the links list to the right of this post. Lastly, if you'd like to email us, our email address is rkrevald@gmail.com

What Is This All About?

2007-12-30T09:07:00.000-05:00

My name is Rein Krevald - I'm the "dude" that Spanky (the canine team member) lives with. As Spanky already mentioned, the two of us have decided to travel around the US and hit the highest point in each state. It will be the first Canine, Human team to attempt such a feat. This blog will serve as a quick update of our activities. However..........it is rumored that a book deal is on it's way. So please follow us on our adventure, have fun reading this crap, and most importantly, buy the book when it comes out - we NEED the money!

The Top of Florida

2007-12-29T10:35:00.000-05:00

January 28th & 29th, 2007
You are probably thinking, "Does Florida have any mountains?" The answer is an unequivocal no! The highest point in Florida is a place called Britton Hill. It tops out at 345 feet. That my friends is why Spanky and I picked it for our first summit attempt! We figured that we had a pretty damned high probability of success.

Britton Hill is located in NW Florida on the panhandle. It is actually in the Central Time Zone (most of FL is Eastern), about 25 miles north of DeFuniak Springs (look at a map if you are really interested), a few miles south of the Florida/Alabama border.

Me and Spanky bivouacked in a Gulf Of Mexico beachfront Motel 6 the night before our assault on Britton Hill. Our climb started just before dawn. We began from all the way down at sea level so we wanted to be sure not to rush things for fear of getting altitude sickness (pulmonary edema). Thus we took it easy on the 60 or so mile drive from the beach to Britton Hill. It was a beautiful sunny day but bitter cold (28 F)...........which did not bother us cause the heater in the truck worked just fine. I drank coffee, checked out the Florida countryside while Spanky slept in the passenger seat. By the way, Crestview, FL has a lot of guys that still sport mullet hairdos and wear camouflage. What's up with that?

At approximately 9:03 a.m., CT, Spanky set his paws, and I my feet, on the lofty summit of Britton Hill. Oh yeah, since Spanky and I are such seasoned climbers, we did not find supplemental O2 to be necessary. We caught our breath, grateful to be alive, and took in the view. Spanky immediately did what he does best when he is outdoors, he ran around in circles at full tilt. We played fetch the stick, Spanky and I both took care of some personal hygiene type stuff, and then we got down to business.

We had to do the mountain climber, adventurer thing. I retrieved my hand held Garmin GPS and verified the Latitude/Longitude and elevation. We had come so far and wanted to make sure that were in fact at the summit of Britton Hill. Next came out the camera (Nikon Coolpix) in order to document this feat of mountaineering. Now that I mentioned cameras, considering the pre climb media interest in this first ever canine/human assault on Britton Hill, there was in fact, no one there? I guess they were all busy with that Iraq thing or maybe the elections.

The first pic is me and Spanky on the summit next to the monument dedicated to all the fallen climbers that did not make it to the top. Next is the Walton County sign which marks this as Florida's highest point. Followed by a breathtaking summit view into the valley. Last but not least, Spanky on the beach.

Just to let you know. This is the first time I'm trying this blog thing. Hopefully I'll get better at arranging pictures and captions.

To see all the pics related to this post, go to http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/FloridaSummit

Expedition Logistics and Planning

2007-12-28T20:18:00.000-05:00

Having successfully accomplished our first summit, Spanky and I returned home with a freshly renewed confidence and the fortitude to go on with our seemingly unattainable goal. Our enthusiasm was also buoyed by the amazing response and feedback that we got from our initial blog post. With comments like, “You are insane! I wish I was you”, “You guys are absolutely nuts”, how could we not go on.

We quickly realized that we can’t just go rushing off like a couple of chickens with our heads cut off. There was a lot of planning and preparation to be done. Not to mention the logistical nightmare that faced us. A daunting task, you’d have to agree!
Just like Sir Edmund Hillary, Columbus, Lewis and Clark, Roald Amundsen, Ernest Shackleton, and Bluto Blutarsky before us, we understood that only fastidious preparation is acceptable for an endeavor of this magnitude. It could easily make the difference between success and serious injury or even death.

Exactly where are the 50 summits? In what sequence do we tackle them? What shall be our route? How do we travel to these far away places? What about food and lodging? The list goes on.

Spanky and I broke out the ’07 Rand McNally road atlas, we scoured through Google Earth, we picked our way trough Microsoft Streets and Trips, we ran innumerable internet searches, and we consulted several cartographers that were referred to us. We compiled all our data into a custom developed Spanky and Rein data base. We ran an extremely complex linear programming model (borrowed from some friends at NASA) against the data and voila! The plan started to take shape.

Spanky Checks Computer Model Data

The answer was obvious, we would start with about a 3 – 4 week trip and hit Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama and Georgia. Actually there isn’t a hell of a lot of logic there other than that these states are close, their summits aren’t that high, and most importantly, we have friends to freeload off of along the way!

There really has been a bit of preparation that we had to do. My truck, a white 1998 Dodge Ram 2500 4wd pickup, has 190,000 miles on it (all personally driven). A wee bit of maintenance (new tires, rear axle seal, new plugs, etc) was required to make it just a little more road worthy. We also decided, at least for now, to use my 1999 Predator Eagle (a local outfit) 6 x 12 cargo trailer as mobile expedition headquarters and for on the road lodging. Simple enough, I had a couple of windows and a skylight/roof vent installed and it was ready.

The Dodge and Our Modest Travel Trailer

Other than that, we did have to get our gear together. Spanky went to PetSmart, his preferred expedition outfitter to look for a doggy back pack, stock up on his favorite dog food (Purina ProPlan), dog treats, rawhides, and as always, to sniff around the other dogs that were busy shopping. We bought a new camp stove, got together other camping stuff like a cot, sleeping bag, camp cookware, blah, blah, blah. The list goes on.

My godson from Toronto Canada, Allan Marley, (my cousin Kati’s son), world renowned mountaineer, skier, and adventurer, is visiting me and Spanky for a few days. He will be providing us with some last minute pointers, spiritual guidance, and moral support. We are probably going to actually head out of here on or about February 26th. It may take a week or so (hopefully less) until we get a good internet connection and file an update. Please, don’t worry about us! I know you will all be waiting breathlessly to read our next update. We’ll keep ya posted as soon and as often as possible.

Thanks for tuning in!

On The Road Again

2007-12-27T18:55:00.000-05:00

Well we’re on the road again. After much running around in circles (me not Spanky) like a chicken with my head cut off, I finally got all the gear packed and stowed, took care of stupid stuff like bills, had the mail forwarded, etc we hit the road this morning (2/28/07).

Spanky the wonderdog has been on a couple of road trips before (Canada at Christmas time and our summit of Florida’s Britton Hill), but this is his first extended, real, honest to goodness road trip. The little lad likes it so far. He falls asleep pretty soon after we start driving but……when I slow down, he knows! Usually slowing down means gas (man that truck is thirsty and of course prices are rising again) or….a rest area. That’s Spanky’s favorite part of the drive. The interstate rest areas in Florida are great! Most of them have some fields and even wooded areas where I can let Spanky off leash and he gets to do the full tilt boogie – running in circles, in random directions, smile on his face – he loves it! To date, Spanky has pee’d in 15 states and 2 countries (got all the other neighborhood pooches beat). He is rather proud of that fact and looks forward to being able to leave his mark on several more states during this particular excursion. Today America, tomorrow the world!

I’m writing this little blurb at about 2 a.m., CT from a KOA campground just outside of Pensacola, Florida, sitting in our little trailer, Spanky is sleeping in my bed, it’s pouring outside, and I’ve got insomnia (the excitement of the trip – I’m not kidding – been this way since I was a little guy). But, it’s great to be out on the road again! Me and the Spankster love road tripping! With that:

Top Ten Reasons It’s Cool to Go On A Road Trip:
10. Coffee, lots of coffee! Any time of day or night.
9. Showing up for work every day is just too “normal” for me.
8. I get to sing along to my CD’s and actually convince myself that I sound pretty darn good. Poor Spanky just gives me a confused look when I sing.
7. If we don’t like where we are - we just leave (TPE - Travel Plan Reengineering).
6. It’s a great excuse to eat really lousy food. Spanky just loves beef jerky!
5. There is no “real plan.”
4. We pretend that the Dodge is a “Time Machine” when crossing time zones.
3. After 16 plus hours of driving I begin to hallucinate without the aid of any mood altering substances.
2. We get to meet friendly and helpful Law Enforcement Personnel from multiple jurisdictions.
1. There are actually a bunch of people out there who are reading all this stuff. Thanks, we appreciate it!

Tomorrow’s destination is Shreveport, Louisiana. Why Shreveport you ask? Well it’s within easy striking distance of our next summit attempt. The peak of Driskill Mountain, Louisiana pierces the clouds approximately 70 miles east of Shreveport! We’ll keep ya posted!

Hey! It’s tomorrow already! Me and the Spankster made it to Shreveport. We had to drive through some horrendous downpours in Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. Apparently we dodged a bullet – some tornadoes hit Alabama today – glad we missed out on that one. OK, I got go burn a couple pieces of cow for us to chow on. Tomorrow - Driskill Mountain!

Spanky Hangin' Out In Front of Our Home Away From Home

Louisiana – Driskill Mountain

2007-12-26T19:27:00.000-05:00

We woke up on the morning of 3/2/07 to a balmy temperature of somewhere around 32 degrees F. Their was frost on the the ol’ pumpkin (literally frost on the truck and trailer) but me and Spanky were feeling pretty cozy in our trusty trailer. I fired up the camp stove to heat up some water for hot steamin cup of joe. Ah, now that’s living! Sitting outside with your dog, watching the sun rise, and drinking hot coffee.

Let me just back up to last night, if I may. We checked into a KOA campground in Shreveport, LA late in the afternoon, did some food shopping, and got our gear set up. By the way, a lot of KOA campgrounds have wireless internet these days – most advantageous for keeping in touch with the world. Back to the story…….Spanky and I were just getting ready to char up a couple of steaks (ribeyes!!!!). We got the meat on the grill, the aroma of sizzling steak is in the air, my mouth waters just thinking of it.

I see a guy walking towards us in the darkness. As he gets closer, I notice that he’s holding a spatula with a burger on it??? It was actually a fresh grilled bacon cheeseburger with onions on it! He was doing the neighborly thing (we, after all, were new arrivals to the campground) and bringing us a “welcome to camp” burger. Pretty nice of him, wouldn’t you say? Turns out his name is Rolo. I think good ‘ol Rolo had a few drinks in him. He had a touch of a stagger goin on. Rolo was from somewhere in east Texas, he had been at the campground living in his RV for about 6 months, working on an oil refinery construction project.

Rolo, me, and Spanky shot the breeze for a while – you know the usual chit chat about currency rate fluctuations, quantum mechanics, and the history and plight of various native amazon tribes. All kidding aside, Rolo was a really nice guy – sounds like he works hard and deserves to have a few drinks now and then. Spanky was delighted with the cheeseburger and scarfed it up in record time.

Back to today. Spanky and I headed out of Shreveport at around 9 a.m. for Louisiana’s highpoint. It was more or less an 80 mile drive east to Driskill Mountain. We headed east on I – 20 on a beautiful blue sky morning. The countryside consisted of rolling hills covered with a mix of pine and hardwood forest broken up by small lakes, a few streams and rivers, nice stuff!

Got off the interstate at the tiny town of Arcadia – a blast from the past made up of little brick shops sitting on a short stretch of “main street.” If you look for em, you can find these little time capsules all over America. It really seems as though time just stopped in these tiny burgs. Every once in a while, I’ll stop and find a local or two just to make a little conversation with – I get some really interesting stuff from these talks.

Spanky and me had printed out the directions for the drive to Driskill Mountain. Looked easy enough according to the directions. We drove about 20 mile through rolling hills and pine forest, very sparsely populated – only a couple of farms and a smattering of houses along the way. We get just a couple of miles from the mountain and started running into a little trouble. There is supposed to be a final “road” to turn onto but we just can’t find it! So……we are driving back and forth looking for the “road”, I go to turn around again in front of a little old church (the only sign of human habitation for miles around), and lo and behold, I spy a sign for Driskill Mountain Trail behind the church! Cool! We would have found it eventually with GPS but this was a lot easier.

Can you believe it? We actually have to hike on a trail! Not like Florida where we just drove right up to the summit. What kind of bullshit is this? Me and Spanks got out of the truck, made sure we had all our stuff, and off we went. Spanky is lovin it. He’d dart up the trail maybe 50 ft in front of me, turn around and run back behind me, turn around and do it over. Every once in a while he’ll take a quick shot off into the woods to sniff at something he perceives to be suspicious. Anyway, it was a nice approx 1 mile hike, up hill, through the woods to the top of Driskill Mountain. I need to mention that Driskill Mountain is on private property. The owners are nice enough to allow hikers the right of way to the top.

Spanky was the first one to make the summit. In typical Spanky style, he proceeded to run around in circles and pee on a lot of trees. Driskill Mountain, Louisiana tops out at 535 ft. Not huge but more than 50% higher than our first summit in Florida. The top of Driskill is a pretty patch of Louisiana woodlands. It’s not high enough for any breathtaking views but it is a quiet piece of back woods that Spanky and I thoroughly enjoyed.

We ran into a farmer and his son at the top. All the rain over the last few days had made his fields so soggy that he had to wait a few days before he could plant his corn. So, he and his son decided to go on a short road trip. It was obvious these guys loved dogs. They became fast friends with Spanky. We traded a little dog talk – they have four dogs, two outdoor and two indoor. “Indoor dogs belong to the wife.” All their dogs are strays that showed up on their farm, they started feeding them, and the dogs stayed. Nice folks! That’s part of deal, meeting cool people along the way.

Since this is our second summit, we’re getting into a sort of summit routine. I broke out the collapsible water bowl so Spanky could take care of his hydration needs. Next came out the camera for the summit pics and the GPS to verify our whereabouts. It was a beautiful blue sky day and we just kinda sat around for a while taking it all in.

Having successfully completed our second conquest, we descended down the western face of Driskill Mountain back to our expedition support vehicles. Spanky was actually a little tuckered out from all the running and laid down under the truck. We hung around for a little picture taking and relaxation and took off for our next destination, Little Rock, Arkansas.

Spanky Reaches the Summit

Spanky In Front of the Cairn Marking the Summit

Me and Spanky Basking In Our Glory

The View From the Top of Louisiana

Spanky Resting After His Summit Ordeal

To view all the Driskill Mountain pics go to http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/DriskillMountainLousiana

Arkansas – Mount Magazine

2007-12-25T10:18:00.000-05:00

Having two summits in our pockets, Spanky and I smiled at each other and confidently started making our way up to Little Rock, Arkansas. Why Arkansas? We had a hell of a good motive. A place to stay and sleep in a real bed! David Kelly (son of one of my closest friends Ken Kelly) and his wife Amy live in Little Rock. I’ve known David since he was a teenager. We’ve jet skied, dirt biked, and snow skied together. I’ve watched the lad grow up and become a responsible adult. David is currently serving in the Air Force and is stationed at the Little Rock Air Force Base – “The Rock.”

We arrived at David and Amy’s late that afternoon and that is when the mayhem began! Doggie mayhem that is. David and Amy also happen to have two dogs, Keeshonds named Katie and Lacey. The moment I let the Spankster out of the truck, Katie and Lacey came bounding through the gate. There was a brief hesitation on Spanky’s part but within a nanosecond the three of them were going berserk playing “let’s run around in circles at full speed aimlessly for the rest of the day!” The dogs were instantly best of friends (Lacey was a tad jealous of Spanky and Katie – both younger and faster). Couldn’t have asked for a better place for Spanky to shake off the grind of life on the road.

Me and David and Amy got caught up on chit chat, ate a most excellent meal and watched the dogs frolic into the night. It wasn’t long before the old eyelids started to get heavy and all the humans and canines hit the sack.

On the morning of March 3, 2007, Spanky and I struck out to bag another one – Mount Magazine, Arkansas – about 100 miles west of Little Rock. Our journey first took us west on Interstate 40. Maybe a half hour out of Little Rock, the traveler begins to see the Ozarks (technically I was seeing the Quachita Mountains of the Arkansas River Valley – but who the hell ever heard of the Quachitas?) off in the distance. As you get closer, stone bluffs start to reveal themselves. These bluffs are characteristic of the mountains in this area. The Quachitas are actually ancient sea bed that uplifted as a result of continental drift. The hard capped stone mountains were exposed through a zillion years of erosion from streams and rivers that ripped away at the softer rock. Voila – Mount Magazine.

These ain’t the Rockies but they are the first real mountains that we saw on this particular westward journey out of Florida. I always get a thrill (maybe I’m weird) when I start to see mountains rising in the distance. Don’t know why, just do. In any case, it was a beautiful clear morning, the mountains looked cool, and me and Spanky were groovin on it!

Once we got off the interstate, it was a nice ride through rural river valley farm country with the mountains just off to our west. About 10 miles from Mount Magazine the road starts to climb. At this point we are going through dense forest (mostly hardwood so no leaves cause it’s winter time), the road becomes a series of switchbacks, we start to get up into the rocky bluffs, there are a few small waterfalls and streams surrounded by moss covered rock, very picturesque! We are definitely not in Florida.

Spanky notices that we aren’t driving too fast anymore. He is on his tippy toes looking around, taking it all in, knowing that something is up, and waiting with anticipation. We pass a sign announcing that we are entering the Ozark National Forest and soon thereafter Mount Magazine State Park. I digress for a moment. Arkansas is a beautiful state. It offers a bounty of natures finest – check it out if you have a chance. It wasn’t long before we came upon the Mount Magazine Visitor’s Center. The Visitor’s Center is fairly new and is done up like a typical mountain lodge. It’s got all kinds of good info about the park and the mountain, a gift shop where you can some real nice, some really cheesy mementoes of your visit, and it’s got restrooms! I got a map of the park so me and Spanky would know where the hell we were going.

Finally, I park the truck at the summit trail head. Spanks is wagging his tail and can’t wait to get out and run around. The trail up to the summit is approx half a mile. Not a major climb by any stretch but a nice little up hill walk. Today’s challenge is that despite it being a beautiful clear day, it is in the 30’s with probably about a 30 mph wind. A wee bit nippy for us Florida people. Fortunately I had brought the appropriate clothing with me so the chilly temps didn’t faze us. Another concern is that this is bear country. Hiking in the woods in bear territory with a dog is asking for it. Bears see a little guy like Spanky and they immediately think “lunch.” But it is winter time and I think the beasts are still in their caves.

Spanky and I made it to the top in no time. As I have mentioned, Spanky has become quite a hiker. He follows the trail and pretty much stays with me with only a little bit of parental guidance. The summit is great. At 2,753 ft this is our first real mountain. There is a fantastic view into the river valley below. We are alone at the top listening to the rush of the wind through the trees, checking out the scenery, and just chillin with nature. Somehow the Anna Nicole Smith saga just doesn’t seem that important at the moment. Truthfully, Spanky isn’t chillin, he’s running around sniffing up a storm and marking his third summit as any good dog would.

By now you should know our summit routine, pictures, check out the coordinates and elevation with the GPS, give Spanks some water, etc. Once our summit checklist is complete we head back down to our trusty pickup. The park offers a scenic drive so we do the tourist thing and check it out. Actually it was well worth it. Got to see some spectacular views of the bluffs and the valley below us from a whole bunch of different perspectives – check out the pics!

With number three nailed we head back to Little Rock, but not without a stop at a Super Walmart that we stumble across along the way. Knowing that we were facing sleeping outdoors on some more 30 degree nights, I decided to pick up a little portable heater. Equally as important, I picked up a couple of 1lb bags of beef jerky for me and Spanks to munch on during our long hours on the road.

In the evening, Amy, David and I went out to a local Mexican eatery and pigged out on some most excellonomous fajitas. The Casa Manana is an authentic Mexican restaurant run by authentic Mexicans – great food. With stomachs full we went back to the house to hang out with the dogs, watch TV, and relax. Katie, Lacey, and Spanky stayed out in the backyard while we were gone. I’ll just bet they ran around the whole time cause they were pretty well played out by the time we got back.

Many thanks to Amy and David for their hospitality. We had a great time and look forward to getting together again soon.

Next destination – Mississippi!

Spanky Sits Proudly at the Summit

I Catch Up With Spanky

USGS Summit Marker

Bluffs Surrounding Mount Magazine

A View into the Valley Below

Spanky Meets Elvis

2007-12-25T10:04:00.000-05:00

Looking at the map a couple of days ago I realized that the top of our next state, Mississippi was not all too far from Tupelo. So what is the significance of Tupelo? For those of you in the know, Tupelo is where Elvis was born and raised! I visited Elvis’ birthplace about thirty years ago while on a business trip. But…….Spanky had never seen it so we headed from Little Rock, Arkansas to Tupelo, Mississippi.

My search for campgrounds open at this time of year in Tupelo came up empty so Spanky and I opted to stay at a Motel 6. Motel 6 is cheap, clean, and most importantly they allow pets. It is actually Spanky’s motel chain of choice.

We got up early on March 5, 2007 and headed to Elvis’ house. At 8 a.m. on a 30 degree March morning, no one was there – hard to believe! The house that Elvis was born in is a tiny little bungalow which has been fully restored to its original condition. For more details about the house and the Elvis museum go to

http://www.elvispresleybirthplace.com/facility.asp

Spanky and I headed from the parking lot to Elvis’ house to take some pics (posted below). A funny feeling came over me as I was taking the pics – couldn't really put a finger on it. Looking at the pics I realized what took place. Take a real close look at the hanging porch swing back in the shadows in the second pic. Yep, you can just barely see it. The image is as faint as can be. Elvis actually came out and sat on the porch with Spanky for a short while!

Spanky on Elvis' Front Porch

Spanky and Elvis (in the shadows sitting on the swing)

Historical Society Sign

Spanky In Front of "Elvis at Age Thirteen" Statue

Mississippi – Woodall Mountain

2007-12-25T08:00:00.000-05:00

How can you top meeting Elvis. Anything we did for the rest of the day, maybe even in our lives will pale in comparison. Nevertheless, undaunted by the mundane worldly tasks at hand, Spanky and I headed northeast on the morning of March 6, 2007, out of Tupelo for our next summit, Woodall Mountain, Mississippi.

It was only a couple of hours from Tupelo, most of the ride being along the Nachez Trace Parkway. The Parkway follows The Old Natchez Trace which was a 500-mile footpath that ran through Choctaw and Chickasaw lands connecting Natchez, Mississippi, to Nashville, Tennessee. It’s a really scenic drive through farmlands complete with split rail fences, remnants of last years cotton crop, some densely wooded areas, a little bit hilly, and not a single roadside billboard, fast food joint or business of any kind in sight. Nice!

We had to get off the Trace to search for gas. Ended up in the tiny little town of Marietta, MS where we found a combo gas station, general store, and restaurant. I went in to pay for the gas (no automated gas pumps here). There were a bunch of older folks sittin at a table smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. A few wee ones running around – baby sittin the grandchildren no doubt. Anyway, the lady working the cash register was just as nice and polite as could be. It dawned on me that every single person that I had talked to (store clerks, motel manager, etc) in Mississippi so far was just as polite. Good old southern manners. I know a few folks (including me) that could learn a thing or two from these folks.

Another thing I noticed when driving on rural two lane roads, if a pickup comes at you, the other driver always gives you a slight wave hello. The first place I ever noticed this was out west (rural Colorado, Wyoming, New Mexico). Apparently this custom is alive and well in Mississippi.

By the way, I’m writing this the following day, sitting at my desk in our trailer (aka expedition headquarters). We are at a campground in Pelham, Alabama. Spanky is just outside the door basking in the sunlight. We decided to take a day off from driving. Spanky seems to be perfectly at ease sitting still for a while – guess he needed a break as well. I also needed to catch up documenting our exploits, posting it, organizing and posting our pics, blah, blah, blah.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, we are driving to Woodall Mountain. The directions I had for getting to Woodall were accurate. We had no problem with finding the dirt road that leads up to the top. I’ve got a truck so what the hell, we drove up. The road got steep enough that I did have to put it in four wheel drive. With the load of the trailer I was occasionally spinning the tires in the mix of dirt and gravel – 4WD solved that. About a mile later we were on top of Mississippi.

First of all, Woodall Mountain is only 806 feet. After being at several thousand feet a couple of days ago it didn’t seem like much of anything. The top unfortunately is cluttered with antennas and a fair amount of litter left there by ASSHOLES! Nevertheless, Spanky and I made the best of it. There was ample room for Spanks to run around, sniff, and yes, leave his mark as only a dog can do.

In the final analysis, Woodall was well worth it. Hell, we now had bagged four summits! A little over a month ago, we had none. We’ve hit 3 out of the 4 lowest summits – Delaware being the only one left and at 448 ft the last one under a thousand feet. So we’ve accomplished a good deal in a short time. I know, I know, what we’ve done so far can’t be considered to be mountaineering. I won’t even try to claim that we are climbing anything – yet. I look at this trip as kind of a shakedown cruise. Real climbs and challenges of all kinds lie ahead of us! Can’t wait.

Spanky On Top of Woodall

We Proudly Pose for the Camera

USGS Summit Marker

The View from Woodall Mountain

Alabama – Cheaha Mountain

2007-12-25T07:59:00.000-05:00

I may have misled you at the end of our previous post into thinking that it was the end of this particular excursion. No way! We still had one more summit conquest, Cheaha Mountain, AL before we headed home to regroup. So, on the morning of March 7th, 2007, we bid adieu to the Birmingham South Campground. It was a bitter sweet experience to leave our home of two days but nevertheless, move on we must!

Cheaha Mountain is in eastern Alabama, only about 100 miles west of Atlanta, Georgia and about 80 miles east of Birmingham (our starting point for the day). Most of the morning’s drive was along I – 20. This part of Alabama consists mostly of pine forest, but unlike the southern part of the state, it is very hilly.

We (notice I say “we” a lot – after all it is a team effort and there is no I in team) had plotted our course using Microsoft Streets and Trips. It’s set to give us the shortest, but not always the easiest route – as we would soon find out. The printed directions looked straightforward enough – listing a bunch of county route #’s and street names. Anyway, we get off the interstate and quickly find out that this particular area of Alabama is not real big on road signs. I know we have to go south and east. So……..I head south for a while and then, relying on my innate navigational abilities – dead reckoning, I head east.

Within a very short time, there was no evidence of civilization. Spanky gave me this, “Dad, do you have any idea where we are going?” look. I even started to question if we were in fact just plain old lost. We were heading deeper and deeper into pine forest. I figured it would only be moments before we ran into the Hatfields and McCoys shootin at each other. But……….the safe travel gods were with us that day!

We spy a couple of pickups parked down the road a piece. I slow down hoping that someone is around and lo and behold…….there are two guys (wearing camouflage, of course) locking up a gate that leads onto a dirt road. We stop, I roll down the window and the two hunters (I assume that’s what they were up to – one of em had on an orange hunting vest) walk up to the truck. Spanks jumps in my lap, wagging his tail like crazy and greats the two gentleman with his brand of good old southern doggy hospitality.

I ask, like a dumb ass yankee, “What road is this?” One of em gives me a name, using his best southern drawl, that doesn’t even come close to where I was hoping we were. I tell them that we’re trying to find Cheaha Mountain. The response is, “What?” I say it again – same response. Finally, the older of the two says, “Oh, Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeaw Mountain.” I guess my pronunciation was a little off for this part of the country. In any case, once we reached agreement on where we were heading, the older fella starts giving us directions. The other gentleman quickly jumps in and says, “No way he’s gunna find it! He’ll just get lost in these woods.”

Now remember, this is the south where people still help out strangers just because it’s the neighborly thing to do. The younger guy offers to put us on the right road, he tells us to follow him and he’ll get us there. This guy, who we never met before, and chances are will never see again, proceeds to drop what he’s doing and drive about half an hour (15 – 20 miles) out of his way to make sure we get to Cheaha Mountain. It’s stuff like this that restores my faith in humanity. Spanky and I owe this dude, we are extremely grateful! Thanks!!! Oh, and I must add that Spanky really liked following this guys truck. In the back he had a kennel full of hunting dog pups that kept Spanky’s undivided attention the whole way.

The hunter got us on the right road. He stopped just to make sure that we understood that we had to go to the end of this particular road and it would “T” into Cheaha Mountain Rd. Finally, on the right road, feeling good about the world and everything about it, we were ready for Cheaha’s summit.

Cheaha Mountain Rd is an extremely narrow, winding, twisting road. It’s billed as a two way road but when you encounter another vehicle, both have to slow down and make a concerted effort to hug the shoulder without going off into the woods or down an embankment. Fortunately we encountered very few travelers on the road that day.

After a few miles we saw a sign that we were entering “Talladega National Forest.” That’s right NASCAR enthusiasts, we weren’t all that far from Talladega Speedway. I know some of you will find it hard to believe but we had no intention of visiting the speedway. With all due respect (I love that statement, it’s actually pretty meaningless if you think about it – that’s why politicians use it all the time) to you NASCAR fans, that just ain’t our bag.

Our drive was a constant climb. This Cheaha thing was turning out to be a real mountain, not just some bump in the landscape. At 2,407 ft, it stood out distinctively from the surrounding hills. The approach on the road was slightly reminiscent of Mount Magazine in Arkansas. There were numerous exposed rocky bluffs surrounding the peak adding to the natural beauty of the scene. Unfortunately, the summit itself would turn out to be a little bit of a letdown.

The final summit approach put us into Cheaha Mountain State Park. We arrived at a gate where the sign told us that we should do the honorable thing and throw a $1 donation into the bucket – so we did. From the park gate, it was a mere ¼ mile or so up the road to the actual summit. No hiking required here.

The views, as you’ll see in the pics, were actually pretty nice. But…….the bad news is that this summit is developed. There is an observation tower and building. The tower is old and kinda quaint looking but right next to it is a bunch of antennas, a small tank farm, and a restaurant and hotel just a few yards away. I don’t know about you, but in my opinion, and Spanky’s as well, these summits should be left the way were before the white man got here.

Spanky and I much preferred the hikes up Mount Magazine and Driskill Mountain to this drive up, Disneyland (I exaggerate) approach. It was much more enjoyable just to be surrounded by nature as opposed to parking lots, buildings and the other dubious accomplishments of civilization. Oh well, at least we were the only ones up there so we did get to enjoy our solitude. Of course we did our summit stuff to properly document our accomplishment and off we went.

Originally we had planned to climb Georgia’s highpoint as part of this trip. I did a little research only to find that park roads (where the mountain is) are closed this time of year – remember Rein, it’s winter still! Also it dawned on me, through a little more research, that Georgia’s, North and South Carolina’s, and Tennessee’s summits are all within spittin distance of each other. So that will be our next trip – at least the beginnings of it. Probably going out for a much more extended trip next time around.

So that’s about it for our first real “Road Trip.” We had a blast. Spanky behaved himself perfectly. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – he is the best dog ever! The poor guy had to endure 2,636 miles on the road in only eight days. He never complained once. Another few facts. We have now completed 5 summits – that’s a full 10% - I know they are the easy ones but it’s still 10%. Spanky, well his claim to fame is that he has marked his turf on each of those summits and…..in total, as a result of our Christmas trip to Canada and our summit expedition so far, Spanky has pee’d in 16 states and two countries. Bet that’ll create some jealousy amongst the canine population out there.

Thanks for reading about our adventures. We are gonna regroup, replan, do a little equipment and home maintenance, etc for the next 2 to 3 weeks and then head out for the open road once more. Stay tuned!

Spanky Sporting His Summit Grin

Spanky and Rein Nail One More

USGS Summit Marker

Cheaha Mountain Summit Observation Tower

Summit Clutter!

View Into the Valley Below From the Summit Hotel

Map of Our "Road Trip"

Go to http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald to see all our pics!

Kayaking In The Mangroves

2007-12-25T07:58:00.001-05:00

You might be asking yourself, “What are the great adventurers Spanky and Rein up to?” “Have not heard from them. Hope they have not fallen prey to some malcontents trying to sabotage their efforts. What if they are stuck in some cave, in a blinding snowstorm, running out of food and water and suffering hypothermia?” Don’t you worry, Spanky and Rein fans, we are hangin at home in sunny Florida, safe and sound.

Yes we have plenty of mundane real life, home owner, try to make a couple of bucks, etc. things to do. That said….we still feel the need to go out and “Do some fun/adventurous outdoor type stuff.” OK, so what can we do here at home, have fun doing it, and share with you guys – and………..hopefully you’ll find it interesting, thrilling, and of course educational.

The answer sprang at us like a thunderbolt from the skies (a little too dramatic – wouldn’t you say). Kayaking! Kayaking in Florida? Yep, it’s actually pretty popular down here. Not the white water rapid kinda stuff. As far as I know, there really is no white water in Florida – you can, however, encounter some pretty rough stuff in the Gulf of Mexico and even in the inland waterways depending on the weather conditions. For the most part, Florida kayaking is a get out and enjoy nature kind of thing. And, believe it or not, fishing from kayaks has also taken hold as a common way to enjoy these nimble little vessels.

Throwing in a pic here to keep your interest. I figured out if I spread pics throughout the article maybe some of you will actually read my literary dribble.

Spanky Plotting a Course to Shell Key

Me and Spanks don’t own a kayak so we gotta rent one. The answer to that dilemma, here in the St Petersburg, FL area is Canoe Country Outfitters What a cool store! They pretty much (I probably over use the term pretty much – forgive me) have every configuration of kayak and canoe known to mankind. And………..they have a huge assortment of rental craft to choose from. They’ve got some really neat vintage “Old Town Canoes” on display. Did you ever notice the older you get, the more you like looking at old stuff – I do anyway. Apparently one of the vintage “Old Towns” was once owned by Eddie Bauer! If you like good old fashioned hand craftsmanship, you’ll enjoy looking at these works of art.

In any case, I walk into Canoe Country Outfitters to look for a suitable craft for me and the Spankster. I was barely through the door and this dude says “Telluride huh?” I was wearing a ski Telluride t-shirt. Long story short, this guy named Barry (he works there) used to live in and ski Telluride – so did I for most of the winter of 92 - 93. Folks, I could talk about Telluride forever – another time perhaps. Suffice it to say, it is probably the most scenic place I have ever seen in the lower 48! Simply a wonderful place located in the San Juan Mountains in southwest Colorado. And……..I blame Telluride, at least as a major contributing force, for my traveling problem.

When two guys start talking about a ski town like Telluride – well it could go on for days. See, I’ve done it again – off on a tangent. Barry hooks us up with a 14’, single seat Mad River kayak (technically Mad River calls this thing a one man canoe but it sure as hell looks like a kayak to me – I’ll call it a hybrid, but what the hell do I know). It has just enough room for me and Spanks and a little bit of gear (backpack with some chow, a small cooler for water, etc).

Spanky and I live in Pinellas County Florida. It happens to be the most densely populated county in Florida. So….where the hell do we go to “get away from it all?” Believe it or not there are some things that the government gets right once in a while. Just to the north of Fort DeSoto Park (some of the nicest beaches you’ll find anywhere) is an area known as “Shell Key Preserve.”

The preserve encompasses a total of 1,755 acres of and is comprised of a barrier island, numerous mangrove islands, mud flats, and sea grass beds. It has been set aside as a protected, undeveloped, and limited use wildlife and nature preserve. Boy I’ll bet that there are a lot of pissed off developers out there. This stuff would be a gold mine if you could put condos on it – thank god it got saved from the condo clowns! The place is gorgeous! It’s real nature at its finest and it’s less than 10 miles from the Casa de Spanky and Rein.

One of real keys to keeping Shell Key somewhat natural is that you can only get there by water. And…………most of the area is restricted to only human powered vessels (canoe, kayak) so you gotta sweat a little to go out there. That means that rich, overweight, drunk, silicone enhanced girlfriend, speedboat guys are not welcome! Even so, on a nice warm weekend day there are a couple of spots on the Key itself that turn into a little bit of circus but I guess it’s there for all to enjoy.

Spanky and I launched our craft from Tierra Verde at about 9:30 am on Wednesday, March 21, 2007. Since it’s a weekday, and it’s in the 60’s (cold by Fl standards) there is no one out there – that’s the way we like it. Our fist destination is Shell Key – the barrier island. Spanky is so cool (as you can see in the pics)! He just settles down in the bow of the boat and chills. Taking in the scenery, checking out the birds – he usually goes nuts over birds, guess he must realize that he’s stuck in a boat so why get the blood pressure up. Maybe he knows it’s a wildlife preserve and is just being respectful of the local denizens?

It’s about a 45 minute paddle out to the barrier island. Well worth the effort. Shell Key is a 180 acre island right on the Gulf of Mexico. We set shore on the inland side and yep, you guessed it, Spanks goes crazy. He just loves to run, run, and then run some more. The part of the island where we made landfall has a ton of sand dunes dotted with sea oats and other coastal foliage. Spanks throttles up the side of a dune, dodges some sea oats (or crashes though em – depending on how he feels), and launches down the other side of the dune. This process repeats itself several times. I just watch and smile.

The Dunes of Shell Key

The Boy

We head across the island to the Gulf. There is absolutely no one in sight. We have the island to ourselves! Cool! Brilliant, sparkling, white sugar sand, the deep blues and greens of the Gulf, and a picture perfect clear blue sky to top it off! Spanky decides he’s had enough of this respect the nature stuff and starts bounding up the beach after some birds. The birds, as you would guess, fly away and land a few 100 feet down the beach. Spanky runs after them again. They fly down the beach. Spanky chases them again. This dog and bird polka goes on for quite a while till the lad wears himself out a little and develops a quite a thirst.

The Gulf of Mexico

Undisturbed Shells on the Beach

We head back to the boat, guzzle down some water, choke down some sandwiches and relax for a while and then set off to explore the mangrove islands. For those of you unfamiliar with the Mangrove – a few facts. Mangroves are a species of tree that has totally adapted itself to high salinity, low oxygen, and tidal inundation. Mangroves thrive in a coastal tropical, subtropical environment. Their seeds actually germinate on the parent plant, drop into the water and float dormant (up to a year) until landing in a suitable spot to root. This is how mangrove islands start. A few mangroves root in a really shallow tidal area, over time more sediment builds up around the roots, more mangroves root, on and on until you have an island.

Mangroves Taking Root

These little islands are gorgeous! They create a perfect habitat for a plethora of our coastal feathered friends. The birds can hang out on these islands, relatively undisturbed, nest, feed on fish, and do whatever other bird stuff they do.

I See A Bird!

One of Our Feathered Friends

For the next several hours Spanky and I paddle amongst the islands. The kayak, ok – new fangled one man canoe, is the perfect conveyance for the task at hand. At times we are in only a few inches of water – there aren’t many boats other than a kayak that wouldn’t run aground. We explore little nooks and crannys in between the trees, constantly stumbling on to birds quietly sitting in the trees. Spanky is hunkered down in the bow just taking it in. I’m actually shocked at how calmly he sits in the kayak! I honestly thing the boy is a nature freak like me.

Cruising Through the Islands

Some of the islands have little waterways, natural tunnels under the thick mangrove canopy. We venture in to take a look. It’s really kind of a primordial setting. There’s just a little bit of sunlight filtering through the thick foliage, quiet except for the sound of the paddle dipping in the water and a few distant birds. I’m half expecting to have an anaconda drop out of a tree or to spy a pterodactyl clutching its prey.

A Tunnel Through The Mangroves

The Spankster and I spend a few hours on this little intra mangrove island odyssey. We thoroughly enjoyed it. By the time we made it back to shore me and Spanks were both pretty well cooked. Spanky from all the running on the island, me from hours of paddling.

So……..the next time you are in Florida, especially our neck of the woods, get a hold of a kayak or canoe, go out there and see some of the natural beauty that is available right at our fingertips. All it costs is a few bucks rental and a little bit of elbow grease.

A quick update: Spanky and I will be heading out of here on April 1st. Our initial plan of attack is Georgia, South and North Carolina (highest point east of the Mississippi) and Tennessee. From there we will head up the east coast for who knows how long. More to follow. Thanks for tuning in!

To view these and other pics of our kayaking adventure go to http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/KayakingToShellIsland

Georgia – Brasstown Bald

2007-12-25T07:57:00.000-05:00

Spanky Boy Scores Another Summit

A lot of people think that we are fools, crazy, whatever, going off on this 50 summit thing. So……..it is kind of appropriate that we took off from Florida for our next attack on the summits on April Fools’ Day!

Our first destination for this trip is Brasstown Bald, the top of Georgia. Brasstown is less than 100 miles from Atlanta. We figured that we’d spend the first night on the road somewhere in the Atlanta area. Not because it’s convenient, nope, because we have friends in Atlanta to freeload off of! Fortunately I got hold of one of my good pals from my consulting days, a dude named Matt Field, and me and the Spankster were able to crash at his pad. It was really nice to catch up (have not seen much of him in recent years), talk trash about nothing special, and pig out on Chinese food.

Which brings me to a very important benefit of this whole 50 summits extravaganza. Over the last few months since we started this nonsense, through trying to update my email addresses, phone numbers, etc I have managed to dig up a lot of old friends that I had lost touch with – pretty cool. Hopefully I’ll be able to introduce Spanks to most of these folks. Watch out, we may be in your neighborhood soon.

Did you ever wonder why Atlanta, one of the US’s biggest cities is there? I have (yep – I’m strange). Geographically, most major cities in the US where started as ports, on the ocean, on major rivers, or on the Great Lakes. So why Atlanta? The answer is railroads. Atlanta got it’s start as the “terminus” of the Western and Atlantic Railroad, which was built in the early 1800’s to provide a trade route to the Midwest. It became a key railroad hub during the Civil War and the rest, as the say, is history.

My buddy Matt had to get up at 4:30 am to catch a flight to DC. Spanky, being the consummate gentleman that he is, insisted that we should get up early, make some coffee, thank Matt for his hospitality, and wish him a safe and prosperous journey. Actually I couldn’t sleep – the excitement of an impending summit and all. Me and Spanks had a few coffees, did some route planning and off we headed for Brasstown.

Atlanta is a rush hour traffic nightmare. Luckily we were headed north east away from all that silliness. Spring in this part of Georgia is gorgeous! The leaves are coming out on all the trees, dogwoods and azaleas are blooming. The world is bright green and peppered in spectacular fashion with dogwood blooms. As you would guess, the farther from Atlanta we got, the more rural the setting. And………we start to encounter mountains! I’m such a dumbass, I really never realized that Georgia had mountains. The Appalachian Mountain Range extends into northeast Georgia – guess I just never bothered to pick up on that fact.

It didn’t take long and we were driving on twisty, narrow, deep in the woods, mountain roads. Did I mention that the weather sucked. As we started to gain elevation we got into clouds, drizzle, and mist. The cloud cover, however, was partially broken so patches of sunshine (sort of) broke through once in a while and we could actually enjoy the countryside. Up and down we went, probably averaging no better than 35 mph, occasionally hitting small valleys with quaint little farms and old houses. Finally we entered the Chattahoochee National Forest, home to Brasstown Bald – we were close.

Somewhere around 10 am we hit the access road to the mountain. There is a sign proclaiming “steep grade” and another saying “leave your trailer here” (not kidding). Signs are meant for other folks, not me and the Spankster. Mister smarty pants ended up doing about 15 – 20 mph, in second gear most of the way up. You think I’d learn – nope! We are obviously getting up high cause there is very little evidence of leaves on trees. Spring has not quite hit this high up.

In order to make the final summit approach we had to park the old truck and hike. It’s a pretty steep trail, .6 miles long, with a whole bunch of switchbacks. The trail is tunnel through a rhododendron forest. The rhodies are huge and the trees are small. Wind and weather conspire against the trees – they are gnarly and short. But the rock strewn, apparently reasonable moist conditions obviously provide a good home for the rhodies.

The top at last – Monday April 2, 2007! Brasstown Bald is 4,784 feet high. Not Everest but more than 2,000 feet higher than our previous record – Mount Magazine, Arkansas! It is named for the former Cherokee Village of Brasstown, GA. Supposedly on a clear day you can see Atlanta. Well…………this was no clear day. The summit, the observation tower, and the surrounding mountains were shrouded in clouds. We were able to take advantage of a few tiny breaks in the clouds to shoot some pics and to take in a rather awe inspiring view.

There were a few other crazies up there on this lousy morning. Spanky and I met a young couple from somewhere in Georgia (between Savannah and Augusta I think?) with two little girls who fell in love with Spanky. I told em all about what Spanks and I are up to and shamelessly handed them a business card promoting our website. Spanky vigorously wagged his tail to indicate his approval.

Wouldn’t you know, as we head back down the weather starts to break. Oh well, we nailed another one and that is what matters. We gingerly drove back down the access road (remember I’m towing the trailer that the sign told me not to tow), and headed off to look for our campground and home till Friday. A few weeks ago I found this place called Enota (after Enotah – the Native American name for the mountain) Campground on the net. It is only a few miles from Brasstown and we found it no problemo.

Enota Campground (I’ll write more extensively about it during the week) is a quite a find. Good fortune is definitely with us. The place is most excellonomous! It is tucked away in a thick forest, surrounded by mountains, with a burbling mountain brook running right through the middle of it. As a matter of fact, the brook/stream is right behind our trailer – I can hear it as I’m writing.

Spanky loves it here. He is quite a hit. Seems like half the kids in this place have already met him and know his name. There are a few really cool waterfalls within a short hike. Me and the Spankster hit one of em this afternoon. Spanky actually seemed to be mesmerized by the waterfall. He just sat at the pool at the bottom and stared at the cascading water. Yep, the little lad is a nature freak.

We’ll be doing South Carolina, Tennessee, and North Carolina during the rest of the week and update y'all when we can (I’ve got a wireless connection but it’s really lousy and fails most of the time). Thanks for tuning in.

Me and Spanks at the Top

A View From The Observation Deck

Another Mountain View

King of the Mountain

Our Home for the Week

The Stream Shimmering in the Sun

A Short Climb From the Campground - One of Many Waterfalls

Me and Spanks at the Waterfall

To view all our Brasstown Bald pics go to: http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/BrasstownBald

South Carolina – Sassafras Mountain

2007-12-25T07:56:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting in the trailer at 3 a.m. awake, got a raging headache, mega thunder claps are echoing through the mountains, every few seconds the whole world seems to light up with lightning, the rain is pounding the trailers aluminum roof – sounds like buckets of glass pellets are being poured on us, Spankster is a little nervous about the whole thing, but………..otherwise life is grand!

Oh well, can’t have perfect conditions every day of the week. After comforting the boy (Spanky) until he managed to doze off again I figured what the hell, might as well do a little writing – tell the tale of the heights of South Carolina and our 7th summit.

We took off from Enota Campground at about 7 am on April 3, 2007. Sassafras Mountain is only about a 100 mile drive from Enota but we wanted to stop at the coffee shop in Hiawassee to take advantage of their wireless access and update y’all with our ongoing saga. Spanky patiently waited in the truck while I slugged down an Appalachian Trail Blend (lots of hikers come off the trail to stop in Hiawassee) with a shot of espresso added to goose up the caffeine and scarfed up a parmesan cheese bagel.

Me and the Spankster figure a couple of hours to do the 100 miles. No, wrong again! Remember we are in the Appalachian Mountains, no interstates, rough mountain driving, slow speeds, spring repairs and roadside vegetation clearing is being done (we had to stop and wait for one way only spots about 4 or 5 times). So it took four hours – oh yeah, I passed our final turn off so a little back tracking was involved also.

It’s been a long time since I’ve really been anywhere in the Appalachians. Most of my mountain traveling in the last 15 or so years has been out west (Rockies, Sierras, Tetons, etc) and I had forgotten that even though there is no comparison (east vs west) in elevations, there are some serious mountains in the east.

OK , bear with me, I must go into a short discourse on the Appalachians (I find this crap interesting – hope at least some of you do also). The Appalachian Mountain Range extends all the way from Newfoundland, Canada down to northern Georgia, Alabama, and even Mississippi (foothills). It encompasses the White Mountains, Blue Ridge, Berkshires, Taconic, Great Smokys, just to name a few (many folks think of these as separate and distinct ranges but they are all part of the Appalachians).

These babies were formed somewhere around 300 million years ago (Rockies about 100 million) so they are old and worn down by the forces of nature (rain, wind, glaciers). The range resulted from major league tectonic plate collisions that formed the super continent Pangaea. The resulting Appalachians being approximately at the center of the continent.

What was my point? Oh that’s right, the driving was rough. Up and down, constant sharp curves and switchbacks back and forth. Poor Spanky couldn’t even catch any zzz’s. The constant turning and bouncing was tossing him around in his seat (the passenger seat of course) like a rag doll, he ended sitting with his front legs held out to brace for the constant turns and braking.

The payoff, however, was that we were constantly bombarded by some of the most picturesque views you could ask for. It is spring and everything is turning bright green – the trees, grass in the valleys, farm pastures. We got to peer down into countless valleys, always with more mountains as a backdrop, the spring runoff is feeding scores of waterfalls cascading over cliffs and huge rock faces, we drove through dense rhododendron forest spotted with moss covered rocks and boulders, around almost every turn we were treated to another postcard image, it was really cool! I know, I should have stopped for more pics but……..when I’m on a mission not much of anything slows me down till I get there. Besides, we have lots and lots of photo ops in our future.

Our route took us out of Georgia, through southwest North Carolina and then to just across the NC/SC state line to Sassafras Mountain. Sassafras tops out at 3,560 feet. So it was kinda anticlimactic. Hell, we’d driven through at least one town, Highlands, NC, with an elevation of 4,100 feet. But, Sassafras is the South Carolina summit so it is significant to meeting our goal.

I must mention that somewhere along our journey to Sassafras, in the middle of nowhere, we saw a combination country store, bar, video store, tanning salon, and if that’s not enough for ya, they have karaoke! I don’t know about you but that just sounds like almost too much of a good time. Spanky and I decided to try and make it back there someday. With all that stuff going for them that business should last a long time.

Anyway, we finally get to a small parking lot which is a short walk from the top. Spankster is itching to get out of the truck. There were some young folks (two couples – I think – college age?) having lunch at the edge of the parking lot. Spanky immediately ran over to them to introduce himself. Spanky loves people but the fact that they were eating made his mission all the more important. He figured that the lunch had been prepared for his arrival. Spanks and the kids had a nice visit. Turns out they were also on a mission to hit several state summits. Yes, there are other yahoos out there that do this stuff.

We made the short walk, all of about a few 100 ft, to the top. Summit number seven completed! There is really not a lot going on the top of South Carolina – which quite frankly is the way we like it. No fanfare, no observation tower, no visitor center, no hot dog vendors. All that poor old Sassafras has to tell us she’s there is the USGS marker set in concrete. The top is well rounded and heavily treed so there really isn’t much of a view. But, there is tons of room for Spanky to do the now famous, often imitated, soon to be copyrighted Spanky Mountain Top Boogie. The boy just loves to run around, seemingly without purpose, nose to the ground tingling from an overdose of olfactory delights, tail going a mile a minute, smiling all the way.

Don’t get me wrong, Sassafras is a pretty spot. Me and the Spankster thoroughly enjoyed stretching our legs and chilling out in a nice quiet natural setting. We took a moment to partake in a little of our favorite traveling snack, beef jerky, drank down some water, did a little exploring and headed back to the old truck.

The young folks were still having lunch down in the parking lot. Spanky took a moment to wish them a safe and prosperous journey (he was still trying to grub some food – I can see through his act). Upon bidding farewell to the mountain we set forth on our journey back to our temporary home at the Enota Campground in Georgia. We took a slightly different route on our return. Won’t bore you with the details but suffice to say that nature treated us well.

One thing I will add. Most of the area that we drove through today is extremely rural. As a matter of fact, the word wilderness comes to mind. However……..and that is big however, one is confronted unexpectedly, in the middle of nowhere with big ass new houses, no, mansions, lodges, what ever the hell you want to call them. I’m no rocket scientist but I’ll bet property values are spiraling out of control. It’s a shame but I guess that’s progress, or is it?

Spanks was happy to be back, happy to get the hell out of the truck, happy to see his new friends at the campground, and most importantly happy to see that I was starting to cook up some chow on the old grill.

Another good day!

Me and Spanks On The Summit

The USGS Summit Marker

View From The Summit Marker

Camping at Enota

2007-12-25T07:55:00.000-05:00

What the hell is an Enota? Actually the common spelling is Enotah and it is the Cherokee name of Brasstown Bald (Georgia’s highpoint) which is just over yonder. I like it, it was a good choice for naming the campground. I tried to find out what Enotah means in Cherokee, even found a Cherokee to English Dictionary but no luck.

Get ready, I’m going on a short rant here. So, this area is chock full of towns, mountains, rivers, lakes, etc with Native American (mostly Cherokee) names. But…….I don’t see any Cherokees just mostly white folks of European descent. Hmmmmmmmm, something must of happened to the Cherokees.

Hell yeah it did. A couple of hundred years ago the white man came up with this brilliant concept called the Treaty. These clowns somehow concluded that they were more deserving of the rights to the land than the people that lived here in the first place. So they coerce “tribal representatives” to sign treaties where the natives agree to give up their rights to beautiful, heavily forested, fertile hunting grounds in exchange for a nice piece of desert. This is a deal that any telemarketer, televangelist, flim flam artist, or con man would be jealous of.

According to the little bit of reading I’ve done, at least in the case of the Cherokees, the dudes that signed the treaty were not authorized to do so nor did they by any stretch represent the tribal conscience. No problem, the Cherokees were just forcibly lead out of town (one of our more well known presidents, Andrew Jackson, had a hand in the forceful “relocation”).

There is a lot more to this story but suffice it to say that the whole deal pisses me off. As we travel around this area (all of the east coast actually) I periodically start thinking about the natives that lived in harmony with nature until we showed up, took it from them, proceeded to cut down trees, bulldoze, build, pollute, and generally rape the land. I know, I know, this is somewhat hypocritical of me – I’m one of the white guys that lives here and takes advantage of all this stuff. But I can’t help but wonder if somehow we could have coexisted, come up with a better deal for all concerned – something to ponder.

Anyhow……we arrived at Enota Campground on Monday, April 2nd soon after summiting Brasstown Bald. Remember we are in the woods, there is nothing on the sides of road except trees and mountainside. The Enota sign just kinda blends in with the surroundings but since it is one of the only roads around we find it pretty easily. We proceed onto a dirt road that just seems to go into the forest – I’m thinking is there really anything here?

Ah, I spy a few tents, some travel trailers, a few RV’s, but not on top of each other. There are lots of trees, I see at least one stream, a pond and finally a log cabin lodge/registration area. At first glance this looks pretty cool, it’ll do just fine. Spanky is all eyes and ears, there are a couple of small doggies on the front porch of the lodge that get his attention, the boy is excited.

The lodge is really neat. There is nice big sitting area with couches and chairs in front of massive stone fireplace, looks real cozy. I get registered, which means they just give you a little map of the place and draw a circle around your camping spot. The guy that I made the reservation with over the phone comes out, he remembers talking to me. I start asking him all kinds of questions like a dumb yankee checking into a hotel, he politely listens and says, “Why don’t you just take your time, get set up, take a nice walk around the place, you’ll figure it all out.” He was right. Nice friendly people. Something tells me that this place is kind of hippyish, commune like, turns out I’m right about that. It’s actually a good thing.

We find our spot and it is wonderful! There is a stream right behind our designated area. The stream is surrounded by rhododendrons, the water is sparkling clear, and there are some ducks making their way up stream – you guessed it, the ducks immediately get Spanky’s undivided attention.

Spankster immediately introduces himself to the people camping just uphill of us. Their son and another little boy are running around in bathing suits and manage to get Spanky into the stream. Spanks is having a great time from the word go. Yep, this place will work out just fine.

Couldn’t have been more than five minutes after I got the trailer unhitched. A lady, Miriam, and her son, Bret, come walking by and Spanky catches their interest. It is immediately obvious that these are dog people. Miriam and Bret instantly befriend Spanky and as it turns out will spend a ton of time with Spanks over the next couple of days.

Miriam is a special ed teacher. She has two adopted sons. Bret is from Guatemala and he is eleven. Her older son is fifteen and is from Paraguay. She is a widow. Her husband was a cop that died of cancer. I think I got the story straight, if not apologies, but after her husband died she decided to adopt the boys. If Bret is any indication, she is doing a spectacular job. He is one of the most well behaved, polite, friendly kids I ever met.

Miriam is waiting for her neighbors to show up. As luck would have it, her neighbors end up in the camping spot on the downhill side of me and Spanks. Over the next few days the neighbors, Wayne and Sharon and their kids, Zane, Zach, and Noel, and of course, Miriam and Bret, all would become part of Spanky’s extended family. Man did Spanky luck out (so did I). Spanks probably spent as much time at their camping spot as ours. He was fed burgers, snacks of all kinds, even got bacon and eggs for breakfast one day. Could not ask for a nicer bunch of folks.

Enota Campground is big! It consists of 60 acres of land that contains the camping area, the lodge, multiple mountain streams, several ponds, a working farm, quarters for workers, a playground (with trampolines) for the kids, lots and lots of trees, and it is surrounded by mountains rising in all directions.

It is actually a not for profit organization. As I understand it, Enota’s goal is to have a self sufficient, totally organic, ecologically correct working farm. The camping fees help fund working toward this goal. There are also a bunch of folks (seems to be mostly college age) working as volunteers in exchange for room and board. It really is kind of communal – see I told you the place had hippies! All kidding aside, I believe it’s a worthy goal. Sure beats the hell out of chasing the buck and dealing with the rat race every day of the week.

All this space provided Spanky with an almost unlimited playground. He ran for hours on the grassy fields adjacent to the farm (most excellent fetch the stick area), jumped in and out of the streams to chase ducks or just for the heck of it, took several hikes up the mountain, played with the kids in the playground (one day he had at least half a dozen kids chasing him while he played “run around in huge circles”), enjoyed taking walks through the camping area, and just generally had a blast.

When back at the trailer Spanky usually was being spoiled by the neighbors (alright – he was spoiled to begin with). I think every kid in the place new his name. They’d come by the trailer and ask if they could play with Spanky. Of course Spanky did his doggie duty and allowed all comers to pet him, scratch his stomach, etc (you know he was digging it).

At dinner time Spanky always managed to slink on over next door. Wayne and Sharon, Zane, Zach, Noel, and of course Miriam and Bret treated Spanky like gold. He scored some big time hand outs and lots of love from these folks. Thanks guys, for helping to make our stay a really great experience.

We only sampled it but judging by our experience there are some tremendous hiking opportunities directly out of the campground. Spanks and I took one day off from summiting just to check it out. We managed to hike/climb to two really beautiful waterfalls and we followed a trail several miles further up the mountain to the Appalachian Trail.

The Appalachian Trail is 2,174 miles long, extending from Springer Mountain, Georgia all the way to Mount Katahdin, Maine. The AT has shelters (about a day apart) all along its length. It is well marked and maintained. If that isn’t a spectacular hiking opportunity in your back yard!

Spanky is turning out to be quite the hiker. He knows to stay on the trail, usually stays pretty close in front or behind me, does a great job scrambling up steep, muddy, rocky stuff (although he did take a spill slipping on a moss covered boulder), has no problem fording streams, and never seems to wear out. Hmmmmmmm, a future adventure, the Appalachian Trail?

In conclusion, Spanky gives Enota the official Spanky seal of approval. I kinda liked it as well. If you are ever in this neck of the woods and want to have a great camping experience, check it out.

Our Neighbors and Spanky's Friends, Zack, Bret, Wayne, Miriam, and Noel

One of Many Fine Waterfalls

Spanks at the Playground with Bret, Zack, Noel, and Zane

I call this one "Spanky With Stick On The Farm"

The Stream Behind Our Trailer

The Lodge

Spanky's Duck Buddies

Another Waterfall Close to the Campgrpound

Tennessee – Clingman’s Dome

2007-12-25T07:54:00.000-05:00

"Hey Dad, We Made It to the Summit"

Me and the Spankster got pretty chilly last night. It got down to the upper 20’s and to top things off we lost power for somewhere around 3 hours. I do have a little heater which warms the trailer a wee bit but without power it got cold fast. Spanks and I huddled together in the sleeping bag to keep each other warm until the power came back on and Spanks settled back into his accommodations (blanket on the floor of the trailer).

Clingman’s Dome, the highest point in Tennessee, is about 100 miles from the campground (one of the reasons I picked this place – we could make day trips to several summits). We set forth early on the morning of April 5th to nail another one. The air was cold but the sky was blue and perfectly clear, a fine day to meander through the Appalachians on up to Tennessee.

This particular mountain tops out at 6,643 feet. We are starting to get into a little more serious elevation here folks. Clingman’s is the second highest peak in the United States east of the Mississippi coming in just a little short of North Carolina’s Mount Mitchell. It is named after this guy named Thomas Lanier Clingman who extensively explored the area back in the 1850’s. It is located in Great Smoky National Park which made me a little wary cause National Parks have really strict anti dog laws. We need to start a Doggie Constitutional Rights Group or something.

Driving to Clingmans was quite a bit easier than our drive to Sassafras, SC. The roads are newer and thus in better shape with far less extreme turns. The drive took us up and down, through gaps in the mountains and as you would expect, spectacular Appalachian scenery.

Coming from the south, just before entering Great Smoky National Park we were treated to the (in my opinion) terribly tacky town of Cherokee, NC. What a tourist trap. There was a roadside “Pan for Gold” place, a bunch of “Discount Souvenir Shops”, cheap “View the River From Your Balcony” motels, “Genuine Native American Arts and Crafts”, and to add insult to injury we actually saw some people dressed up as natives standing in front of shops trying to lure in the tourists. I think you can guess – we did not stop.

The National Park Service does a fine job. My experience is that they successfully strike a balance between keeping things as natural as possible while making it accessible for public use. Great Smoky National Park immediately gave me that same impression. There is a small stone visitor’s center just beyond the entrance. Adjacent to to the visitor’s center is an authentic reconstruction of an old mountain farm. The structures all just seem to blend into the setting. The 25 mile or so drive up the mountains revealed very little evidence of humans (other than the road), a few small unobtrusive roadside sides, a couple of entrances to camping and day use areas, that was it.

The final drive to Cingman’s is a 7 mile long road that just opened up on April 1st. It is closed from the beginning of Dec through the end of March……..and for good reason. Let me assure all of you that winter is not done with us yet. You northerners may be thinking, Tennessee, that’s the south, it’s warm. Absolutely not! Now, I did say that it was a clear day but at around 6,000 ft elevation we encountered some clouds and guess what? All of the sudden we were driving through snow flurries! Soon thereafter we encounter a cliff face covered in sheets of ice. Conclusion, it is definitely below freezing.

We make it to the end of the Clingman’s Dome Road to a parking lot. There were some pretty heavy wind gust going on, I could actually feel the truck moving. Spanky has a quizzical look on his face, “We’re not going out there, are we?” There were other people up there but most hopped out of their cars, clicked a pic or two, felt the arctic blasts, and got the hell out of Dodge. The parking lot is not the top – we still have a hike ahead of us!

Having spent time around mountains, I knew that since it was cold down below and we were going pretty high up, it was going to be a lot colder up there. Accordingly, I brought a fleece, a ski shell, and a pair of gloves with me. I got dressed, got Spanky out of the truck and we went for the summit. The wind was really assaulting us. Spanky had never felt wind that strong. He didn’t get it at first but quickly got used to it. Hiking up the path (pretty good incline – half a mile long) we hit a spot with ice. Spanky hesitated, he just didn’t know what it was. A few steps and slips and we were over it. The boy strode ahead like a true trooper in face of the inclement conditions. No Dog Police to be seen – we were gonna make it!

The degree of incline, the altitude, and the weather made the short hike a little bit of work. Which is good – the body warms up with exertion. The top! The top of the mountain is rounded (thus the term dome – I guess), the vegetation consists of some really gnarly looking short twisted trees. Heavy wind blasts and harsh cold conditions obviously are right at home here. The scene is reminiscent of some north east mountain tops I’ve been on while skiing. Stunted vegetation, rocks strewn about, and blasting winds conspire together to give summits like this one an other worldly appearance (my opinion anyway).

There were only a few other people at the top. Spanky instantly made friends with them. We ended up exchanging cameras to take a few shots of each other. Too cold and windy for much small talk. As if it weren’t cold and windy enough on the ground, there is a 50 ft high observation tower (big spiral ramp leading up to what looks like a flying saucer) that is absolutely exposed to the elements. What the hell, we’re here, might as well do it. We went up and I must say, “Spectacular.” An overused term but very appropriate here. Pictures were taken very quickly, Spanks was starting to shiver and I wasn’t exactly warm either.

Actually we lucked out. Even though it was bitter cold and windy, the skies were relatively clear. A few stray clouds occasionally depositing trace amounts of snow. Apparently Clingman’s is socked in a good deal of the time. So a little chill is a small price to pay to get the view. Summit number eight – done deal!

On our way home I stopped at the Mystic Mountain Coffee shop in Hiawassee to get some high speed wireless access and a cup of java. The coffee shop lady notices my desktop image which is a pic of Spanks on Destin Beach and asks, “Is that your dog?” I respond, “Yep, he’s right out there in the truck.” She looks and says something like, “adorable, cute, precious.” Hey what about me lady? Just kidding. I started to read my email and before you know it she’s handing me some slices of black forest ham to bring out to Spanky. He pretty much inhaled the stuff. So, coffee lady, if you ever read this, thanks again. Spanky and I much appreciate your hospitality.

Tomorrow morning it’s off to Asheville, NC to stay with some friends for a few days.

Thanks and I’ll update this thing in a few summits. Until then!

Ice Covered Cliff on the Summit Approach

Spanks On Top (Note Snow On Evergreen Branches)

Spanky Checking Out The Weathered Landscape

Summit View - Yep Thats Snow On Peaks Below

They Say You Can See 100 Miles From Up Here

Virginia – Mount Rogers

2007-12-25T07:53:00.000-05:00

Spanky On the Mount Rogers Summit Rock

But first, a little about Mount Mitchell, North Carolina

Spanks and I left Enota Campground, our home for the week, on the morning of Friday April 6th. Could have easily stayed in the area just to explore, hike, hang out in a beautiful spot, etc but it was time to move on. Our next destination, Asheville, NC.

An old friend of mine (since we were kids), Jaan, his wife Linda, and their dog Susi, recently sold their home in St Pete, FL and moved to Asheville (actually Waynesville – a neighboring town). As I’ve explained several times, one of the key functions of this traveling circus is to visit old friends along the way. The fact that the highpoint of North Carolina is close to Asheville and an opportunity to stay indoors for a few nights also factored into our planning.

We arrived at Jaan and Linda’s house around noon. Spanky and Susi (the dog) had only met briefly down in Florida. They proceeded to get acquainted in proper doggy fashion – vigorous sniffing, some barking, chasing each other, marking in front of each other, etc. Didn’t take but a few minutes till they were best of friends.

The afternoon was spent doing a little grocery shopping, checking out the area, watching the dogs run around the back yard, culminating with burning up a couple pieces of most excellent cow on the grill. That evening, Jaan built a fire in the backyard (which happens to be on a river – really gorgeous) and we sat around the fire telling tales of our misspent youth, trying to out do each other and, I think, shocking Linda with some of the tawdry details.

OK, so I thought it was springtime. Saturday morning greets us with 4 inches of snow on the ground. What the hell is going on? Winter apparently is not done with us yet. In any case, the snow quickly melted and did not hamper us from doing some sightseeing and looking at real estate. The Asheville area is beautiful! But, being that is such a great place, it has attracted quite a bit of development. Homes (mostly vacation homes) are being built left and right, and prices are going through the roof. Jaan and Linda are unfortunately having a rough time finding a reasonably priced house to buy (they are renting at the moment).

Mount Mitchell (see I got back to the summit thing) can be directly reached off the Blue Ridge Parkway and it’s pretty close to Asheville. Jaan and Linda decided that they would like to be part of the great adventure so we all head out together on Sunday morning. Not so fast! We take the shortest route to the Parkway only to be confronted with a closed off entrance gate. OK, let’s try another approach, closed gate again. Several hours later, trying to approach Mt Mitchell from the east, yep, you guessed correctly, closed gate again.

You know how guys are, we never ask for directions or any info for that matter. We can figure it out on our own! Finally, after three failed attempts, and at Linda’s suggestion, we stopped at a campground/trout fishing place and I talked to a guy that worked there. According to him the Parkway (runs way up on the ridge line of the mountains) is closed cause way up there, they got more than a foot of snow and they don’t plow, they just close and wait for the snow to go away. Wrong! According to the Blue Ridge Parkway site, there is a stretch of Parkway that is closed until the end of this month due to maintenance. Seems like none of the locals are aware of that.

So no Mt Mitchell at this point. But…….Spanks and I vowed to be back soon – we must! Being the flexible travelers that we are, we just left town, bidding farewell to Jaan, Linda, and Susi for more summits down the pike. Lots of you readers out there know Jaan and Linda – check out our visit pics at http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/JaanJaLindaS

Which brings us to Mount Rogers, Virginia.

Based on all the info that I’d found on the net, I figured out that we were in for a fairly significant hike to get to the summit of Mount Rogers. The only problem was that I was kinda sketchy as to which trail(s) to take and exactly where to find them. So….we left our campground early to give ourselves ample time to find the place (at about 7 a.m. on April, 10th on a cold (low 20’s) but sunny morning). Long story short – we talked to a lady forest ranger in the parking lot of the Mount Rogers National Recreation Area Visitors Center who hooked us up with directions to what she felt was the most scenic hike to the top (she was right!). Thanks!

Our approach started from Grayson Highlands State Park (within the Nat’l Forest) at a place called Massie Gap, at approximately 9 a.m. Remember that it snowed a few days ago. Massie Gap is above 4,000 ft and there is still plenty of snow to be seen – northern exposures, in the trees, and on the mountain tops. Me and Spanks looked at the posted maps and figured no problemo – we got it together. Looked like it was gonna be about 8.6 miles round trip and according to what we had read, should take us around 5 hours. We did run into one other person headed up the trail that morning – a dude and his Chocolate Lab – he told us, “Me and the dog are gunna spend a few days in the woods.”

The trail started up through several alpine, grassy meadows. Higher up we encountered some sparse hardwood trees, lots of rhododendron forest, and spruce forest. But for the most part there were just rocks and grass and a lot of remnants of dead trees. Wow, this place was really different looking – and really beautiful! I figured that nature had done this all on her own – not!

As beautiful as theses highlands are, the landscape's original beauty has been altered by, you guessed it, us humans! At one time, every fourth tree in the mountains was a chestnut, but blight killed all the massive chestnut trees in the early 1900s. After the blight, loggers hauled out every available tree for its valuable, decay-resistant wood. About the same time, logging and fires decimated the virgin stands of other forest species. It took the logging companies a period of only 12 years to de-nude the landscape. What nature had given us, we destroyed – an all too often told story.

Due to the severe climate, strong winds, and loss of soil following logging operations, recovery to a natural state is an extremely slow process. That said, it is recovering. Trees are renewing themselves, and a community of hardy wildflowers, shrubs, insects, birds, amphibians, and mammals that can withstand the harsh conditions of the open highlands have adapted to life in the alpine meadows. In the end, the place is different and it is gorgeous beyond words. There are spectacular views in all directions of the valleys below, there are rugged rock outcroppings and peaks, the grassy alpine meadows, dense rhododendron forest in shaded areas, dense spruce forests on many of the summits, it’s just really cool!

So me and the Spankster are on our way up, we cross up over a grassy knoll and lo and behold, wild horses! I quickly put Spanks on a leash – don’t know how he and or the wild ponies are going to react. Spanks spies the horses and stops in his tracks. The horses spot Spanky and me, check us out, lose interest and continue to do horse stuff (eat grass, walk and run around, and leave lots of pasture pastries). Turns out humans had a hand in this also. I couldn’t find much info but……someone turned a bunch of horses loose up here, they have adapted, they are healthy, the heard continues to breed and call the highlands home.

Does not take us long and we are clamoring over some fairly rough terrain. We encounter snow drifts, lots of nice sticky oozing mud (where the sun is hitting – otherwise frozen mud), we have to climb up over rocks, try not to slip on ice (shady spots), the trail actually leads through a cave, it’s not exactly a walk down the sidewalk. As I said, the trails looked simple enough to follow, I did not have a map, and I must admit that I spent a little extra time and distance trying some alternate routes (took a couple of wrong turns). Fortunately my built in compass (actually looking at pics of the place on the net ahead of time) brought us back to the correct route.

For those of you that are interested, most of the hike is actually along the Appalachian Trail but we don’t see anyone (I think it’s still early in trail hiking season) until about 11:30. Two dudes that started in Georgia last month and are hiking through all the way to Maine – remember that’s 2,174 miles – hats off and good luck to you guys!

Our final summit approach (mountaineering lingo thrown in to make us sound like cool mountain type guys) is a one mile spur off the Appalachian Trail. The spur goes up through what starts as mud and snow into dense spruce forest where the trail becomes just ice and snow. These spruce normally grow only further north but the elevation of Mount Rogers provides them with just the right climactic conditions. The trees are so dense that the sun barely filters through.

At 12 noon Spanks (when’s he gonna let me get there first?) and me hit the summit – 5,729 ft. Mount Rogers is a rounded mountain. The summit is a small clearing in the forest where the USGS marker has been embedded in the top of a boulder. Because of the dense forest, there is no view to speak of. However, it is really cool anyway, beautiful green spruce, snow on the ground, and sun shining through onto the summit clearing!

There was actually someone up there ahead of us! A guy named Chris from Boone, NC had camped up there overnight. He’s hanging out in the woods, camping for a few days, on a walkabout so to speak. Chris helps us out by snapping a few photos, we shoot the breeze for a while, he plays with Spanks while I take another few shots, and he takes off for some more out back adventure. Nice to meet you Chris – travel safely!

I’ve gotta admit, I was a little wary of this venture up Rogers. I had no idea how Spanky would do on a half day excursion into cold, muddy, snowy, icy conditions. He’s amazing, he loved it! He never missed a beat. Most of the time Spanky actually leads me up the trail. He stops every once in while, looks back to me, sometimes he runs back, sometimes a slight diversion to the side of the trail, tail wagging all the way, underbelly wet and covered with mud and snow. Our round trip, as I said, was officially 8.6 miles – I’ll bet Spanks did twice that with his back and forths and his periodic run around in circles routine (in the meadows and in open snow drift areas).

I must say that this is our favorite summit so far. Why? The scenery was great but the main reason is cause we actually had to put in some effort. We really accomplished something through our own foot and paw power. By the time we made it to the truck at around 2 p.m., both Spanks and me were pretty well tuckered out. He drank a bunch of water, laid down in the grass and fell asleep, I guzzled coffee left over from the morning ride. We basked in the sun for a while just kinda feeling good.

Spanks and I have been staying at a KOA campground in Wytheville, Va for the last two days (our home for the Mount Rogers Summit). The campground is owned and run by a guy named Mike, his son, and their families. Mike is originally from Long Island, NY, moved to Florida, had a successful sheet metal business in Orlando, got sick of the rat race, the traffic, etc and bought this KOA a few years back. It’s a really nice, well cared for campground. It sits on 60 acres (I think), has plenty of trees, a ton of nice camping spots, a fenced in dog park, and just generally a great place to stay. Mike was more than nice to me and the Spankster. Thanks for your hospitality!

The weather has taken a turn for the worse – lots of rain. Undaunted, we are moving forward to hit Spruce Knob, the highpoint of West Virginia.

Thanks for dialing us up!

Spanks at the Massie Gap Trailhead

Checking out the Rhododendrons

One of Many Wild Horse Encounters

Rocks and Sparse Vegetation

Spanky Finds the Next Trail Marker

The Final Summit Approach Through Thick Spruce Forest

Moutains and Valleys In the Distance

Me and Spanky On the Summit

The USGS Summit Marker

Go to http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/MountRogers to view all of our Mount Rogers pics.

West Virginia – Spruce Knob

2007-12-25T07:52:00.000-05:00

King of the Mountain

Spanky and I took a great deal of time to rigorously research weather conditions for the next several days, study detail topographical maps, did some return on investment modeling and based on our analysis of the data, we decided that our next victim would be Spruce Knob in West Virginia. Well…….we are in Virginia, might as well go to West Virginia – not really rocket science.

Spruce Knob is another one of those summits that is not really close to anything, not much civilization is what I’m talking about. The closest campground that I was able to scrounge up on the net is another KOA in Verona, VA – bout 150 miles up the pike from where we just stayed to do Mount Rogers. Our drive takes us into the Shenandoah Valley which is in western Virginia bounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains to the east and the Appalachian and Allegheny Plateaus to the west. Normally this would be an outrageously scenic drive (done it before – about a 100 yrs ago) but the weather gods aren’t being kind to us – it is foggy and rainy and we weren’t able to see much of anything.

Me and Spanks waltzed into the Verona KOA about mid afternoon. Despite the crappy weather we took a stroll around the place to check it out. There is a pretty good size river out back with plenty of room to walk a good distance with the pooch. And……..there aren’t a lot of campers around so I can let the boy off leash – he loves that. Now, this is funny. There is a grassy hill in front of our site and it is covered with bunnies! I’m not kidding. There’s dozens of these critters hoppin about – think the campground owners raise em or something. These little floppy eared creatures really got Spanky’s attention. I don’t think he had ever seen a rabbit before. I had to be constantly on guard to make sure Spanks didn’t go off hunting wabbits.

We awoke on summit morning to the sound of rain pounding on the aluminum roof of the trailer. Thank goodness, the rain subsided quickly after sunrise but……..we still had a pea soup fog to deal with. Based on the visibility in the valley, I was pretty well convinced that the drive through the mountains was gonna suck. We made our way west and just as we were getting close to the VA/WVA border on the top of Shenandoah Mountain (approx 3,500 ft I might add), the sun broke through. It might be a nice day after all!

I don’t think West Virginia gets a fair break. There are all kinds of crude jokes about it. Most Americans think it’s full of coal mines and have no idea of how fetching the WV landscape is. It’s got an awesome section of the Appalachian Mountains running trough it. As a matter of fact, it is the only state that is 100% in the Appalachians. The mountains are speckled with lush green valleys and farms. The civilization is very sparse, thick forest, rivers, streams, and mountains in all directions. Oh yeah, West Virginia is also home to the New River Gorge – the only place where you can legally base jump off a bridge (one day a year they open it up for base jumping – pretty cool huh).

So it goes without saying that once the sun came out we were treated to some of natures finest. I had a hard time concentrating on the twisty turny mountain roads – just wanted to gaze at the sights around us. Our drive took us through the quaint little West Virginia town of Franklin. A little main street, old but well cared for homes with nicely maintained green lawns. Looked like the kind of place we could live. And…..I must throw in one more plus for West Virginia – they do the best job of marking their roads out of any state I’ve been in (I’ve been in all 50). Every little road, even dirt roads, are clearly signed. Getting lost is almost not an option.

A few hours of driving put us onto the road into Spruce Knob National Recreation Area. The final several miles of the drive were along a basically one lane, dirt/mud road. You can probably make it in a car but a truck is preferable. My truck, affectionately known to many of you as Great White, is once again Great Dirt! The road is full of rocks and rutted. All the shaking and noise had Spanks up on all fours trying to figure out where the hell I was taking him this time.

Spruce Knob is a knob – I guess. It is another well rounded mountain top. The dirt road leads up to a paved parking lot almost at the summit. A very short trail leads from the parking area to the actual summit and a two story observation tower. Spanks and I went up the trail and on April 12, 2007 we scored our tenth summit. Only forty more to go, we’ve nailed twenty percent (I know, not in elevation, just arithmetically) in just a little over two months. Pretty good for a couple of neophytes – at least we think so.

At 4,863 ft, Spruce Knob is no slouch. It’s up there for this part of the country. The Knob is high enough to have much harsher weather than down below. And wouldn’t you know it, just as we got to the top, a bunch of clouds blow in and it starts snowing. I managed to squeeze off some fairly nice pics but the views would definitely be better on a clear day.

The summit is very rocky. Trees are short and stunted. It really has an alpine flavor to it. Lots of mosses and lichens clinging to rocks amongst short spruce and high mountain shrubs. Being the only ones up there, I let Spanks run around at will. He digs it. The boy sniffs out every nook and cranny and clearly marks his visit on the Knob. Interesting little point (I read it on a sign up there), Spruce Knob is the highest point the drains into the Chesapeake Bay – bet you didn’t know that one.

This is not Spanky’s first time in snow but it is the first time that I thought of a new Spanky game. It’s called, I make a snow ball, throw it in the parking lot, Spanky runs after it and tries to eat all the pieces off the pavement. Spanky thoroughly enjoyed this new activity. He looks forward to doing it again. Me and Spankster spend about an hour walking around the summit, frolicking in the snow and enjoying the peace and solitude. It’s pretty neat to have a place like this to ourselves.

We’ve been on the road now for almost two weeks and it occurred to me that I have not watched a second of TV the whole time. Unbelievably, I’m surviving. Days are spent traveling or hitting a mountain, evenings are spent cooking, updating our memoirs, catching up on email, etc. I really don’t miss it (for now anyway). Maybe when we get home I ought to just throw the damned thing away – not to mention not having to pay a monthly cable bill. Food for thought.

We are headed up to New York City tomorrow. Getting together with a bunch of old friends to celebrate a friend of the family’s 92nd birthday. It’ll be a great opportunity to catch up with a bunch of folks that I have not seen in ages, not to mention, introduce them to Spanky.

As always, thanks for following our ongoing summit soap opera. Stay tuned for more fun and adventure!

Spankster And Me On The Summit

The Sun Breaking Through The Cloud Cover

Lichens And Mosses Thrive In The Alpine Landscape

Another View From The Top

Delaware – Ebright Azimuth

2007-12-25T07:51:00.000-05:00

Spanky Proudly Sitting On Top of Delaware

Spanky and I bid farewell to the state of Virginia and headed northeast along I–81 to meet social obligations that we had coming up in New York City. The Shenandoah Valley weather had finally cleared giving us some picturesque parting shots of the landscape. The clear, sunny morning in Virginia gave us no clue of the maelstrom that we were headed for in New York.

Speaking of the Northeast……..our drive started in Virginia, took us through West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and on into NY. Only in the Northeast can you hit six states on a mere 400 mile trip. It makes sense that the northeastern states are smaller – much smaller than anything out west! Remember that it all started in the northeast. You know, Plymouth Rock (pilgrims), Washington, Jefferson, and all those other founding father dudes – they all hung out in the northeast. That’s where the US was first settled.

It was a major undertaking just to get from NY to Philly back in days gone by. Horses and carriages and stuff. I’ll bet the original colonies/states seemed plenty big to folks back then. Took them several days to cross any of them. And……I suspect, the founders being as independent and rebellious as they were, all wanted their own state. So we end up with a whole bunch of states, much smaller than the rest clustered in one area of the country.

Back to the trip…..we were very graciously offered lodging by another lifelong friend of mine. My pal Urmas, his wife Karin, their daughter Aleksa, and their dog Comet (that’s the part that intrigued the Spankster) live in Chappaqua, NY (home to Bill and Hillary). Also staying at Urmas’ for the weekend was another great friend of mine, Mati (there are pics of us playing in a sandbox together as infants – and our dads were buddies in the old country) and his wife Lisa. We all arrived at around the same time Friday afternoon and were treated to a most excellent steak dinner.

Most of the weekend was spent telling liberally embellished stories of our youth, watching the dogs play, eating, and on Sunday, sitting inside and watching and listening to the worst rainstorm to hit NY in 100 years. Me and Spanks did sneak off at one point to Bill Clinton’s. We had a draft Dog Bill Of Rights that we wanted to run by him and to propose that he be the spokesperson for the Doggie Rights movement. Sad to say, no one came to the door. I think he was home though – there were a couple of freshly emptied KFC buckets and McDonalds wrappers on the front porch. I’ll bet he saw us coming and ran inside to hide.

But seriously, the highlight of the weekend was Saturday night. I mentioned that the main purpose of our NYC jaunt was to go to a 92nd birthday party. I was originally going to leave out the details but that just wouldn’t cut it. This was a big event for me and my Estonian (if you never heard of the country Estonia – look it up) friends. Many years ago, Paul (the 92 yr old dude) owned a liquor store in Queens, NY. In its heyday, it was one of the most successful liquor stores in all of NYC (that folks, is saying something).

Alright, so he was a good businessman. Why am I going to his 92nd? Over the course of several decades, Paul provided employment to scores of young Estonians in the NY area while they were going to school (high school and college). It was kind of a pseudo scholarship thing. Spending money, book money, maybe even a little tuition money. He was very flexible with hours depending on peoples academic and athletic schedules, bought meals for us, let us sample the wares once in a while, hell, if a few of us were going somewhere for the weekend he’d always tell us to take a little something from the store.

Bottom line, Paul is a great guy. Who else would take in a bunch of long haired, hippy freak misfits? So……my buddy Urmas, upon learning that his 92nd was coming up organized a combo birthday/Rego Drive Liquors Reunion at the Estonian House in NYC. I’m telling you, it was the event of the century. Needless to say, the guest of honor, on top of being surprised was taken aback by the whole thing. Picture this, 30 or so former liquor store employees, from the 60’s through the 80’s, some from as far away as California and Florida, show up for their former boss’s 92nd birthday – that says something about the guy.

Some of us had not seen each other in 30 years! But once we got talking, it seemed like no time at all had passed. Telling stories from the old days, laughing like a bunch of kids, catching up on what everyone was doing with their life. I can honestly say it was one of the best evenings I’ve had in years.

I hope I have not bored you non Estonians (99.9% of you) with this stuff. It’s important to me and just maybe my feeble attempt to put into words the camaraderie that my Estonian American friends and I enjoy has been conveyed.

Even if you found this interesting, educational, are just putting up with it, whatever, I would hazard to guess that you are wondering about the highpoint of Delaware. We’re getting there, don’t worry. You see……..Delaware’s summit (with all due respect to the citizens of that lovely state) is just not a big deal. There is not a whole lot to say. I can’t, in good conscience, try to glorify or embellish this one.

But before we get to Delaware, let’s talk about New Jersey, shall we? Me and Spanks left Chappaqua on Monday morning in the midst of the flooding and traffic chaos caused by the rainstorm of the century. Major roadways were closed, train tracks were flooded, New Jersey had declared a state of emergency. A mess! We struggled through it all, got the hell out of NY and made our way up to High Point, New Jersey.

Guess what, it’s snowing up there and the damned place is closed! High Point is a state park. There was one person in the visitor’s center and she explained that due to the state of emergency, no park workers were around and that no one was allowed to go in the park. I explained that we were perfectly willing to hike, not drive, to the summit. No, that would not do at all. Apparently NJ is worried about liability for people hiking in a closed park.

Hmmmmmmmm, no one down further south seemed too worried about a guy and his dog headed off into the woods. I surprised myself and did not go into a tirade about how stupid their policies are. But I couldn’t help but think about what we’ve become – society teaches us that nothing is our own responsibility or our own fault. If you get injured somehow, in some way, someone else must be to blame so we must litigate!

We’ll get NJ later in the year on our way up to New England.

After our failed attempt at Highpoint NJ, Spanks and I caught up with another friend of mine, Frank, in Bernardsville, NJ. Frank, his wife Pam, their son Max, and their dog Pete were more than kind to us and provided the Spankster and me with food and shelter for the evening. Spanky just loves this stuff – he gets to explore new houses, run around in a new yard (Frank has a big yard) and play with another dog. Spanky is definitely into this road trip thing.

Finally, see I got back to the point of this story, we left NJ on the morning of April 17, 2007 for Delaware. The summit, Ebright Azimuth, is 448 feet. It is the second lowest, behind Florida, in the US. But it is a summit so Spanky and I had to go. Many of our summits have had road access. Delaware’s summit takes it to another level. The highpoint is only a few miles off I–95 down a four lane suburban road with the “final approach” being a turnoff on to a residential street.

The mighty pinnacle is marked by a nice big cast iron historical marker. It is right next to a subdivision of regular, middle class, white bread, suburban homes. Ebright Azimuth is totally unremarkable. But I must take into account that there are no rules for summits. Who says it can’t be in the middle of suburbia. Spanky didn’t dig it much either. We were on street with a fair amount of traffic and I had to keep the lad on his leash. He’s good at walking on leash but I know he doesn’t like it.

And what’s up with the name? Ebright Azimuth??? I believe that Ebright is derived from the name of the road where the summit lies (a local family name from what I could find out). Azimuth, do you really wanna know? OK, an azimuth is an arc of the horizon measured between a fixed point and the vertical circle passing through the center of an object clockwise from the north point through 360 degrees. I knew that!

More summits to come in a few days.

Thanks for your support.

Ebright Azimuth - The Suburban Summit

Panoramic View From The Summit

Maryland – Backbone Mountain

2007-12-25T07:50:00.000-05:00

Spanky Puts Another Notch In His Collar

Totally shaken up by our near death experience on Ebright Azimuth in Delaware, Spanky and I needed a few hours to physically recover and gather our senses. Actually……we stopped for gas, checked our computer generated directions vs the trusty Rand McNally Road Atlas, broke out some beef jerky, got a fresh coffee, Spanks drank some agua, and we took off down the pike for Maryland.

The big plan was to camp out at a KOA campground in Hagerstown, Maryland for a couple of days. Reason being that Hagerstown was within fairly reasonable reach of Maryland’s highpoint as well as sorta on our way to points west (PA and OH) and additional summits.

The Hagerstown KOA sits in a rural river valley. Good thing about all KOA’s is that there are highly legible and visible signs that lead the camper for the final few miles. So, off the interstate, onto a few back roads, turn right at an old mill, and up a narrow access road that follows the river. The torrential rains over the last few days had swollen the river to a muddy torrent that threatened to cover the road. Fortunately the deluge had abated and we didn’t have to worry about being stuck in the woods with no way out (visions of Deliverance dancing through my head).

The first order of business is to take care of the Spankster. The poor lad has been stuck in the truck all day so we need to explore and find out where he can get some good running time in. Aha, a path up the hill into the woods right behind our campsite. Tail a waggin we go up the hill. Spanks does his usual running around, sniffing up a storm, and nosing around in piles of dry leaves (guess he likes the sound of leaves crinkling – also a favorite relief area for him).

We nose around for a while, go up a dirt road for a bit, and head back down the hill into the woods on a different path. Just off the top of the hill we stumble on a grave site. The grave is surrounded with rocks, an angel sitting at the food of the grave, and a simple headstone, “In Loving Memory, Tyson.” There is a paw print on the headstone. Someone has buried their dog here and honored him with a formal grave and headstone. Spanky and I take a moment pay tribute – these folks certainly loved their best friend, Tyson.

The following evening I actually got the story on Tyson the dog. I was in the KOA office talking to the owner lady and mentioned that Spanky and I found a dog grave up in the woods. She sadly smiled and told me that it was their dog (passed away last summer – I think). Poor Tyson got cancer at the age of seven and didn’t make it. She said they were devastated and felt that she needed to keep his memory alive with a proper grave – a place to honor him, a place to meditate and reflect. I can totally understand. In any case, this little story speaks volumes about Tyson’s owners and of course Tyson. Hats off to you guys!

Now, for the Maryland summit story. I usually try to get some last minute info on each summit off the net. There are numerous sites where people have related their experiences, specific directions, even maps. Unfortunately, the KOA’s satellite internet connection had gone south. Apparently Hughs was not being all too cooperative about getting it fixed either. So I resorted to Microsoft Streets and Trips, which is great for getting from point A to B but lacking on final summit approach roads and with zero trail info. But it was all we had so……that had to be good enough.

On the morning of April 18, 2007 we took off for Backbone Mountain, Maryland’s highpoint, approximately 120 miles away. About half the drive was west on I-68, one of the most scenic interstate drives around. Our journey then took us south west, in and out of West Virginia, through rural little burgs, over hill and dale, and through a hollow or two. This is coal mining country and there is quite a bit of evidence of coal mining’s impact.

The Eco Nazis of course would find any sign of mining activity to be an atrocious misuse of our planet’s resources. Hey, I don’t like it either but I’ve gotta remember that we all use electricity and coal is still burned to generate power. Over time (and we are making progress) we will find the correct balance between man and the environment. I just don’t care for the hypocrisy of people screaming about not burning fossil fuel, saving the rain forests, (Hollywood types, many politicians, and other people of fame and fortune) when they themselves are conspicuous consumers – driving big ass SUV’s, heating huge homes, jetting around in private planes, etc.

A little humorous note. I believe we were just about to cross the Maryland/West Virginia border, coming down a hill, and we spotted an eatery on the side of the road called the “Chat and Chew.” It’s a shame that we had summits to climb, otherwise we would have most definitely stopped for a little chattin and chewin.

After a few hours of driving we finally found a little road called Gnegy Church road – our last paved road of the day. We followed this quaint little country cart path until it ended. No signs. A 4wd road took off to the right, hmmmmm, according to my directions a right was appropriate. So I slammed the truck into 4wd and gave it a shot. A few hundred yards is all we were good for. The road was covered in snow, mud underneath, and periodic little canyons where streams had decided to eat away the road. Too sketchy! If we got stuck, no one around to pull is out. So we get out and hoof it.

Spanks and I slosh through the slush and mud maybe a half mile up the mountain. From here it becomes guess work. There is a fork in the road. As Yogi Berra once said, “When you get to the fork in the road, take it!” We went to the right – looked like that was going higher than to our left. Meanwhile, Spanky could care less where we were heading. He was having a grand old time playing gallop through the snow drifts like a leaping gazelle. Did I mention he was smiling?

We slog up to the highest point to the south – no signs of a highpoint here – no markers, signs, no tracks. Can’t be the right place. Maybe that other peak to the north is it? We trek up that way. Nope, not it either. I’ll bet we did a few miles back and forth, trying to look for a sign of some kind. No luck. But being the steadfast, goal oriented adventurers that we are, we ain’t quittin now.

Me and the Spankster make our way back to the truck and go in search of information. We get back to the main road and find a general store in a little town that consisted of just the general store and a couple of houses. There is a guy wearing camo standing outside smoking a cig – I ask him if he knows how to get to Maryland’s highpoint. The dude totally hooks us up! He tells me to head down the road (opposite direction of where we came from) for a little over a mile, “On your left, just past a white house, Highpoint will be painted in orange spray paint on the backside of a road sign. Just head up the logging road and you’re there.” I’ll be damned if that wasn’t the case.

We find the sign, park the truck (the logging road is not drivable plus it’s a private coal company road), and go back to slogging through the slush, mud, and rivulets, up the mountain. My feet are soaked (goretex is only good for so long), I’m a little tired from our previous attempt but Spanks is enjoying the hell out of it as usual. This time the trails are marked (HP – Highpoint) with orange spray paint on trees to indicate the correct way to go. Somewhere around a mile later, me and Spankster conquer another summit - 3,360 ft above sea level.

The weather is still crummy. Fog blankets the mountains and valleys all around us so there is not a whole lot to see in the distance. However, we are in the woods, task accomplished, it’s peaceful as all hell, it’s all good.

The local name for Maryland’s summit is Hoye – Crest. It is named after (as you can see in the pic) Captain Charles E Hoye, founder of the Garrett County Historical Society. He is also an author who has written several books about the pioneer families of Maryland.

Spanks and I take a few pics – limited due to the weather and meander on back down the mountain to our faithful horseless carriage. It was a great day! Getting a little confused over where the actual summit was no big deal. We got to do a whole bunch of hiking together, Spanks got to wear himself out frolicking in the mud and snow, and we nailed another summit. It was a most excellent adventure!

Back at the campground, tired and hungry, both Spanky and I thoroughly enjoyed a meal of turkey burgers cooked up on the camp stove. I think we hit the hay around 9 pm. What could be better – tired, full stomach, camping with your dog, and the two of us dropping off into a sound slumber dreaming of summits gone by and summits to come.

Until next time!

Me and Spanks At The Summit Marker

View From The Summit Shrouded In Fog

Spanky Looks For The Trail

The Summit Marker

And Then - A Few Days Later, The Sun Comes Out

Spanky Basks In A Sunny Pennsylvania Meadow

Followed By Chillin In a Woodland Stream

Pennsylvania – Mount Davis

2007-12-25T07:49:00.000-05:00

Spanky Conquers Another One

Spanks and I departed from Hagerstown, Maryland on the morning of April 19th, 2007 on our way to score the highest point in Pennsylvania. As I sit here trying to write about our latest escapade, I realize that this stuff is starting to all run together in my mind. I keep daily notes using a digital voice recorder so I can jot down facts and thoughts as we are driving. I write down everything I’ve recorded, usually at the end of each day, and within a day or two try to come up with some kind of logical, hopefully interesting accounting of our travels.

Nevertheless, we’ve hit 13 summits (including this one) in a pretty short period of time and they are, to some extent, getting jumbled up in the old noggin. So, I hope this is not getting boring for you to follow. I realize that a lot of it is rather similar, camp out, drive to or near to a summit, hike or walk up, take some pics, and off we go. And…….the weather this past week has thoroughly sucked so we really don’t have any spectacular pics to show for it.

I’ll try to keep the story moving with little tidbits about people we meet, odd ball things we see etc. and, of course, some of my personalized socioeconomic and or political dribble.

Our plan is to move on to Ohio for the weekend and pick up the summits of Ohio and Indiana (not too far from one another). These are flat-land high points, not mountains but do them we must. From there Spanks and I will head south, stop in Atlanta and ease on down the road to sunny Florida. The weather is warming up, there is a promise of clear skies and we hope to snap off some good pics for your viewing pleasure.

Mount Davis, Pennsylvania’s highpoint, lies in south west PA, just a few miles from the Maryland border. It is on the Appalachian Plateau which is a few thousand feet high to begin with. At 3,213 feet, Mount Davis does not rise prominently above the landscape. Heading north out of Maryland towards Mount Davis was just a slight climb through farm country – pretty farm country – would have been a lot nicer if the weather wasn’t still crappy.

The final part of the drive took us on several small farm roads, with small farm houses, silos, barns, you know the rolling hill, quaint little farm scenario. Coming around a bend we were confronted by what I believe was an Amish dude going the other way. He had the horse and buggy thing going on, we slowed down, he waved to us, I waved back and Spanky barked his lungs out. Spank loves to bark at horses!

We entered Mount Davis State Park, went past a picnic area, and saw a sign proclaiming Mount Davis, Highest Point In PA! Could this actually be that easy? Nope. And……by the way, there was snow at the top. Lets see……Clingman’s, Mount Rogers, Spruce Knob, Highpoint, NJ, Backbone, all covered with snow. It’s getting toward the end of April, what happened to global warming? Maybe I’ll give Al Gore a call. I marked the way-point with my GPS and sure enough the roadside sign is not the highpoint. A little investigation by me and Spanks and we found the highpoint trail leading uphill from the picnic area.

I should mention here that there is a lot of detailed info available on the internet regarding directions, what trails to take, etc for each highpoint. Unfortunately we did not have a connection for the last few days so the Maryland and Pennsylvania highpoints required a little searching around. That’ll teach me (yeah right). Don’t wait till the night before to do your research (hmmmmm – sounds like this has been a lifelong problem).

Spanky loved the idea that once again he got to go cavorting about in the snow. Approaching the trail across a snow covered field, Spanks laid down several circular sets of tracks through what was left of the snow drifts. The highpoint trail meandered slightly uphill through the mostly hardwood forest for about a mile or so. Since the actual temps were above freezing, we once again got to trudge (Spanks didn’t trudge – he galloped, pranced, leapt, etc) through snow, slush, mud, and just plain old water.

The weather on top of Davis is apparently pretty harsh. Lots of snowfall, high winds, and frosts even in the summer time. The hardwoods at this time of year showed no signs of buds. With no leaves on the trees, only some evergreens to break things up, and the bleak weather, the place looked pretty stark. Even so, me and Spanks enjoyed our little hike to the peak (well, not really a peak, just the highest pile of rocks in the area).

Pennsylvania has done a great job with the summit, they have used natural stone as a base for the bronze information signs which tell the visitor all about flora and fauna, the mountain, the guy the mountain is named after etc. The summit area is stone/rock that has been beaten down over the millennia by the harsh conditions to form some interesting looking patterns of stone.

April 19th, 2007, number thirteen accomplished! We cruised on down the road to Washington, PA – bout 30 miles south of Pittsburgh. Spanky and I arrived at our next campground at a about four in the afternoon, ample time to set up, check things out, get some groceries and to meet some folks.

The owners of the KOA, Rick and Sharon, met us with open arms. In fact, Rick remembered me from talking on the phone the day before. He even came out to meet the Spankster. We shot the breeze about a few things, how long they had been in the business, how they liked it etc, I got some info on local stores, I told em about what Spanks and me are up to, etc. After the introductory formalities were done, Rick escorted us to our sight. Very nice people, Rick and Sharon, and they run a very well maintained and friendly facility.

A brief investigation of the area revealed that just uphill there was a big open meadow. Man did Spanky love that. As soon as we broke out of the trees he started to run around in the grass only briefly stopping to sniff things out once in a while. We also found a stream in the woods on one side of the campground where Spanks helped himself to fresh stream water on several occasions.

The place was not all too full (you think it might have something to do with the weather we’ve been having?) so we managed to chit chat with almost everyone there. Of course anyone that walked by wanted to pet the Spankster – man he’s got a tough life. The couple in the next site (from Oregon on their way to visit old friends and spend some time around the Delaware Water Gap) took a special liking to Spanky, stopping by several times to pet him, play with him, and tell him how cute he is.

At the end of the day the sun actually broke trough and we watched an honest to goodness sunset over the hill. First time we’d seen the sun in well over a week. Friday turned out to be a gorgeous sunny day. Numerous walks in the woods and through the fields. I caught up on our summit story. Spanky enjoyed basking in the sun drenched grass.

Westward to Ohio!

Road Sign - Not The Actual Summit

Spanks Lets Me Join Him

A Little Bit of History

View of the Summit Area

Brass Summit Sign

Ohio – Campbell Hill

2007-12-25T07:48:00.000-05:00

Spanky Gazes Into the Distance From Ohio's Summit

Finally! A gorgeous, warm, sunny spring day. A welcome treat after dismal, snowy, rainy, foggy, cloudy, (trying to think of one more adjective – got it) and gloomy weather. There is absolutely, positively a direct link between sunshine and people’s moods (mine included). But we must have the rain and snow etc in order to enjoy the cloudless and sunny days. You know, you can’t appreciate the good times unless you experience some of the bad stuff in life.

Spanks and I have been on the road for three plus weeks now. Actually we kinda wanna go home for a bit but there is still work to be done. We’ve got thirteen summits to date and we’d like to end this particular round of traipsing about the countryside with a nice round number, like fifteen! Ohio and Indiana are just to our west. As previously mentioned, these are flat-land highpoints. Which means they are easy. At this point in our trek, easy translates to good.

On the morning of April 21st, 2007, we hightailed it out of Pennsylvania into the great Midwestern US – America’s Heartland. One of the generally accepted definitions of Midwest is the states that are bounded by the Great Lakes to the north, and the Ohio and Mississippi River Valleys to the east and west respectively. There are, however, a bunch of different views on which states are included, which states are actually in the Great Plains, The Old Northwest, etc. The Census Bureau officially lists Michigan, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, Missouri, North Dakota, South Dakota, Nebraska, and Kansas as “The Midwest.” Take your pick.

Keep in mind that a few hundred years ago, this was “Out West.” Anything on the other side of the Appalachians was frontier, unexplored wilderness. There was a time when we (White Europeans) did not have a clue of what was really out west, the plains, the Rockies, let alone the geological craziness of the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Yosemite, etc.

Heading west to Ohio from Pennsylvania, one barely notices that you are leaving the Appalachian Plateau. This is in stark contrast to the eastern escarpment of the plateau where there is an abrupt change in elevation. To the west you just kinda coast on in to the Interior Plains. The real sign of entering the Midwest was crossing the Ohio River through Wheeling, West Virginia. Since we were cruising along on I – 70, I didn’t have much time to take in the sights. From my brief glance downriver, I could see that Wheeling has been around for a while. Lots of old brick buildings and, unfortunately, a blanket of smog hanging over the river valley.

Westward into Ohio. It can all be summed up in one word – Farms. Yep, farms, farms, and more farms. Most of the state is pretty flat (glaciated plains) making it very suitable for agriculture – Ohio is part of the “Corn Belt.” That said, Ohio, being the gateway to the Midwest has enjoyed the benefits of the commerce generated traffic through the state via its railroads and highways.

As we travel onward, I take a look over at Spanks. I thing he is starting to get pretty bored with the driving around for miles and miles part of the deal. Nevertheless, he hangs in there, sleeping in the passenger seat most of the time. Getting up to gaze at the passing scenery (I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking). Occasionally he sits right next to me and puts his left paw on my leg and licks my face for a bit. All I’ve got to do is look at him and I smile – man I love that dog!

Our route takes us to Columbus, Ohio where we get off the interstate, proceed northwest for about 40 miles along US 33, bang a right at the town of Bellefontaine and we are at Campbell Hill, Ohio’s Highpoint, 1,549 ft. This is totally different! Absolutely no challenge to find the place, well marked, out in the open, drive up to within a few yards, get out, take the pics, and done! Well, Delaware was similar. Yet, it is part of the overall challenge for me and the Spankster, so it is well worth the effort.

Because this area is all glacial plateau, there are no major prominences. Campbell Hill (named after Charles D Campbell, the former landowner) however, does rise just a wee bit above the surrounding countryside. Today it sits on the site of the Ohio Highpoint Career Center (vocational training center). The highpoint is well marked with a historical society sign, the USGS marker, and an American Flag. There is somewhat of a view out over the fields in the distance – not spectacular but a view regardless. There is plenty of grass around for Spanks to do a little search and destroy work (note that we always pick up after ourselves). We chill for while, happy to be able to put another notch in our belts.

I’m writing this back home in Florida, looking out the window, watching Spanky stalking a squirrel. There he goes! Almost got him! The squirrels have it figured out. They only come to within a few feet of the ground. By the time Spanks makes it to the tree they are history. Spanky does the Spanky, on his hind legs, I almost caught a squirrel dance for a while, barks for a bit, then goes back to his stealth position in the middle of the lawn. Truthfully, I hope he never catches one (probably would not know what to do with it). Its great exercise for Spanky and it keeps the furry little critters from digging up the yard - in search of bygone acorns.

But meanwhile, back in Ohio, me and Spanks are headed for Cincinnati. You’ve probably got this figured out already. An old friend of mine from the consulting days, Keith, has invited us to crash at his pad. Visions of a real bed, private bathroom with a shower, and a home cooked meal dance through my mind.

Keith, his wife Barri, their sons Kees and Aidan, and their doggies Nola and Crash live just a little bit east of the city (up the river a bit). What a great place. Their house is a post and beam (recycled posts and beams no less) ranch, cobblestone outer walls (reclaimed also), big ass fireplaces, slate and stone, way cool abode. It sits on four acres, on a hill side, partially wooded, with a huge green expanse of lawn surrounding a pool out back. Spring has definitely sprung, the trees actually have some leaves, it smells like spring, it is a beautonomous sight for the weary travelers – Spanky and Rein. (Hey Keith, bet you thought I was gonna use “Verdant” in there somewhere – it’ll be in a later chapter – special award if you find it).

Very briefly, Keith and I have known each other since ’93 when we met on a huge consulting gig at Procter and Gamble in Cincinnati. We quickly figured out that we are two like minded rebels, malcontents, and miscreants - we’ve stayed in touch and been friends ever since.

Spanky thinks he has died and gone to heaven. Nola, Crash, and Spanky immediately shoot out into the back yard and a doggie frenzy erupts into a two day long game of chase each other in huge circles, knock each other down while running, play bite each other in the head, stop and bark once in a while, lie down to catch a breath, and start all over again. Not to mention that the boys really dug Spanky so he was also getting a fair share of their attention.

It is interesting to watch how dogs behave together. Crash (part chow – big cuddly looking guy) and Spanky are about the same age – still pups really. They ended up being the constant playmates. Nola (an elegant looking part husky – Hurricane Katrina rescue dog) is older. Nola would frequently sit on the sidelines, watch Crash and Spanks go wild, usually waiting until Crash got tired and laid down – then she’d go play with Spanky. Spanks, being the smallest of them all, took his share of hits from the bigger dogs but his size gave him an agility edge which allowed him to thwart some of the onslaught.

Gotta save some stuff for the next post so that’s it for now. For pics of our visit with Keith and Barri, please go to

http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/KeithAndBarriS

Thanks for joining the fun!

I Just Love Getting My Stomach Scratched

Campbell Hill Historical Sign

The USGS Summit Marker

Ohio Farmland As Far As the Eye Can See

Indiana – Hoosier Hill

2007-12-25T07:47:00.000-05:00

Spanky Proudly Posing

A slight departure from the typical summit narrative – a couple of road stories first. And……….not necessarily in chronological sequence, maybe not even relevant, but…….hopefully entertaining, humorous, and educational (that’s a stretch!). Here we go.

By the way, we did do Hoosier Hill in Indiana but we’ll talk about that later. So me and the Spankster are leaving Atlanta, actually Roswell (just north of the city) last week. We waited till around 10 a.m. to try and avoid the morning rush hour (didn’t work). Alright, so I stop to get a little petrol for the truck, get done fueling it up, go into the convenience store to buy cup of joe, out I come and this guy in a caddy stops in front of me, rolls down the passenger side window and yells, “Hey, who’s Spanky?”

I retort, “Spanky is my dog. He’s over there looking out the window of my truck.” Our new friend says, “No s___! My name is Spanky!” He obviously had read “The Adventures of Spanky and Rein” sign on the truck. I shake the man’s hand, “Glad to meet you, Spanky!” and tell the dude all about what the hell we are doing. The guy says, “Man you guys are just living life, ain’t you!” “Yep, that we are”. Mr. Spanky was obviously on his way to work and had to take off, but our brief little encounter was thoroughly enjoyable and we are glad to know that there is at least one more Spanky out there. Hope to see ya again someday, Spanky!

Going backward in double declining, reverse, chronological order (if you can figure that out please let me know), there we were back in Ohio. I have a little history with Cincinnati – so I hope you don’t mind if I share just a little of it. Back in the early 90’s I spent several years working in Cincinnati. As we pulled into town a whole bunches of memories flooded back into the old brain. Generally speaking, it was a great time. Most importantly, I met a whole bunch of folks from all over the country (on the Procter & Gamble consulting gig) that I have become long term friends with.

A couple of anecdotes come to mind. On the Procter & Gamble job, this guy named Wayne (client dude) announces one day that his wife took all his power tools away from him. What??? The story is that he was having a “few” beers with some friends one night, they order pizza, and his wife comes home to find Wayne further dissecting the pizza with his circular saw on the kitchen table – immediate removal of power tools by the wife! This is the same guy that took his family to the Grand Canyon, by car from Cincy, without the benefit of any maps. Wayne figured, “How hard can it be to find the world’s biggest hole in the ground?”

Then there were a couple of my fellow consultants, they’ll remain nameless for this exercise, who’s computers I would regularly turn on in the morning so it looked like they had actually come into work on time. A frequent excuse, I think they actually thought of it more as a valid reason for not arriving in a timely fashion was, “We tried to drink all the scotch in Cincinnati last night.”

On the down side, maybe only a few weeks after I’d landed the job, I was out jogging one night close to my apartment and a cop car, lights a flashing, pulls up next to me. Could this be real? Am I actually getting pulled over for jogging? The answer, sorry to say, is yes. Turns out, as was explained to me in great detail, by the bleach blond, crew cut, female, officer of the peace, there are “No Pedestrians” signs posted on the road. Folks, I run against traffic so I can see what the hell is gonna run over my sorry ass before it happens. The signs faced traffic so I did not see em. And……I’m running on the grass off the road anyway. So I thought the whole thing a little extreme – especially the lights on the cop car. Fortunately the officer did not find it necessary to incarcerate me but she did tell me to, “Walk, not run!” back home.

I’ll bet that you don’t know anyone else that has been pulled over by a cop for “illegal” jogging!

Fast forward back to now. Spanks and I were so comfortable with our friends Keith and Barri in Cincinnati that we took a day off from the summit thing. On Sunday we spent a beautiful spring afternoon watching little league baseball. K & B’s son Aidan, broke his batting slump with a double – good job! I never knew Spanky liked baseball – or maybe it was all the attention that he got from the spectators. Either way we really enjoyed hanging out with a bunch of kids and their parents actively engaged in America’s favorite pastime.

On Monday, April 23rd, 2007 we got back to the task at hand and went on our merry way to grab another one – Hoosier Hill, Indiana. I’m not going to bore everyone (including Spanky and me) with great detail about this one. Suffice it to say that it was an easy drive from Cincinnati up to Dayton, west for a bit, and just a hop, skip, and a jump across the Indiana state line.

Hoosier Hill, as you might guess is not that high. It edges up, ever so slightly, above the surrounding corn fields to 1,257 ft. It’s an easy shot up a few country roads that pass through humble little hamlets like Middleboro and Whitewater. Just a few houses, maybe a gas station, small farm towns, insignificant vs the hustle and bustle of the big city but home to many Middle Americans.

It’s a darn good thing that Hoosier Hill is marked with a roadside sign. You wouldn’t even think to look just driving by. According to a few sources that I read, the Indiana Summit site was a Boy Scout project. They have put up a summit sign, there’s a stone cairn, a picnic table, a cleared out path in the woods, all in a little patch of trees above the surrounding fields. Doesn’t look like the place gets a lot of traffic but it sure would be a nice place for, let’s say, a family picnic.

After our little jaunt up Hoosier Hill I realized, with horror, that we were fresh out of beef jerky! What will I give Spanky for his post summit snack? Not to worry. We had to stop for gas and as luck would have it the gas station had a convenience store with a White Castle integrated into the same structure. Spanky quickly scarfed up a couple of White Castle’s finest square little burgers and with his hunger sated and another summit accomplished he proceeded to contentedly fall asleep on the passenger seat.

So that’s all our summits for the time being. Basically, in three months time, me and the Spankster have nailed fifteen of the fifty state highpoints. That’s 30% where I come from. Only thirty-five more to go! I don’t know about you but I really didn’t think we’d get this far, this fast.

Let’s hop back momentarily to where I started this particular dialogue, Atlanta. As you know, we live in Florida. Travel to and from just about anywhere out of the southeast requires going through Atlanta. The old joke being, “If you die in the southeast you have to go through Atlanta to get buried.”

Me and Spanky dug up another old friend of mine, Tom. For you poor souls that had to suffer through the Adventures of Great White (my tales of skiing out west) years ago, you may remember Tom as the guy who I used to freeload off of in Reno, Nevada while I skied Lake Tahoe. I figured that I have not hit him up for years for a free nights lodging so there’s no time better than now.

Seriously though folks, I’ve known Tom since my Price Waterhouse (whatever the hell they are called now) days in Tampa – late 80’s. We’ve been friends for quite a while and it was great to see him again albeit for a short visit. Spanky, Tom and I spent an evening catching up on what’s going with all the people that we worked with. We’ve lost track of some but we still know where all the crazy ones are – watch out! Thanks for the hospitality, Tom!

See http://picasaweb.google.com/rkrevald/TomAndSpanky for a couple of pics.

A quick note to my ex-wife, Helje, who just happens to live in Atlanta also. It won’t be long before we cruise on through Georgia again. Spanky and I may just get to your neck of the woods and pull off an actual visit. Be prepared!

After 4,402 hard miles, approximately a month on the road, with ten more summits, and massive amounts of beef jerky and coffee consumed, Spanky and I made it back to warm, sunny, Florida and our home in Saint Petersburg. I’m not just making this up, it was obvious that Spanky was excited to be back. I opened up the truck door and the little lad ran straight for our back gate – familiar territory, home, his personal turf. One of our neighbors, Sarah, actually had made a chalkboard sign, “Welcome Home! Spanky and Rein”. She also treated us to some of her spectacular home made soup – thank you! Another neighbor, Justin (eleven yrs old) came over immediately to play with Spanks. They had good homecoming romp in the backyard.

Damned nice to be back home!

As was the deal last time around, we’ve got a bunch of catching up to do down here in Florida (truck and trailer maintenance, a minor legal issue to deal with, bills, yard maintenance, life crap in general). But…………we’ll get tired of being home soon enough. The big plan is to head up to New England for the summer. Should be some really excellent camping, hiking, climbing, not to mention pleasant summer weather in store for us. We look forward to it!

Ad Astra Per Alia Porci!

Spanks in a Dandelion Covered Field

Hoosier Hill View

Another Angle

Summer '07 Plans

2007-12-25T07:45:00.000-05:00

I am sure that everyone has been sitting on the edge of their seat, waiting breathlessly, worried half to death, checking their email daily, logging onto the web, etc, in search of information on the whereabouts of the famous team of Spanky and Rein (not). Well, maybe a few of you have at least thought about it. So here it is……..a quick update on where the hell we are, what we are doing, and our plans for future misadventures.

First of all, I’m throwing in some Spanky pics. Some of you folks out there tell me that you actually read this stuff. But I know the truth. It’s the Spankster that keeps you coming back. Inserted below, and at the end of this post are some choice pics (Florida stuff) of my little canine buddy doing what he does best – just being Spanky. Enjoy!

Spanky Keeps A Sharp Eye Out For Fish

Spanks and I spent the month of May hanging out at our home in Saint Petersburg, Florida. Actually it was quite nice to be home after countless miles on the dusty trail but it didn’t take long until the gypsy in me (and Spanky I suspect) started making noises. I’ve always had this problem of not being able to sit still in one place for too long. Gotta move and see new places, meet new people (and canines), and do new stuff (a great generic term for doing just about anything).

So here is our plan. I must warn you that you should not take the word “plan” too literally when it comes to me and Spanky. We are of the ilk that firmly believes that a detailed, strict plan can ruin a good trip. Nope, you have to be able to “go with the flow” so to speak. I we stumble upon a place that we really dig, we stay for a few days. If a locale does not measure up to our high standards (in other words it sucks) we move on. I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll say it again, it’s become our credo, “The Journey is The Destination.” I probably read that somewhere but my ego tells me that it’s original.

You may recall that so far we’ve managed to summit 15 state highpoints. Our goal for the summer is to, hopefully, do 10 more and thus (for those of you that are arithmetically challenged) have a total of 25 summits – or one half of em done by the end of the year. Many of you have reminded me, more than once, that we are doing the easy ones first. But of course! Why not take the path of least resistance? Hell, easy or not, we will still have bragging rights to half the summits.

OK, so we are starting the next leg of our expedition at the end of this week (Friday, June 8, 2007). Our first stop will be Atlanta, GA. A bunch of yahoos (that is an endearing term BTW) that I used to work with in Tampa somehow all ended up in Atlanta. We are all getting together Saturday afternoon for a little BBQ. I have not seen a lot of these folks for years and……..most of em have not met Spanky – should be a grand old time for all.

Once Spanky and I have worn out our welcome in Atlanta, we are moving north to New England via Kentucky. Didn’t do Kentucky on our last excursion, it is not far from Atlanta, and it is basically in the general direction of our route of travel. I’ll provide details as we move on (and no doubt change plans as we go) but……..our potential victims (summits that is) for summer ’07 are: Kentucky, North Carolina, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and to be determined.

Geographically minded readers are probably asking, “What about Maine?” We have a slight problem there. You see, Mount Katahdin, Maine’s highpoint, lies within the boundaries of Baxter State Park. The powers that be, in their infinite wisdom, have implemented an absolute, no exceptions, better not even try it, Pet Ban (I shudder even writing it) within the boundaries of said park.

I do understand, at some level, that they have this ban in effect to protect the wildlife, preserve the ecological balance, blah, blah, blah. Does not mean I like it! Spanky and I will obviously have to make some kind of a futile, symbolic, meaningless, useless, and utterly childish gesture to deal with this obvious and blatant infraction of canine rights. Don’t know what it is yet but don’t worry, we’ll cook up something that will add new meaning to the word ridiculous!

That’s the brief overview of what’s coming up. So tell the neighbors, yell it out the windows, wake up the kids, write to your congressman – Spanky and Rein are at it again!

Spanks' Favorite Beach Activity - Shredding Palm Fronds

Spanky Gallops After A Bird

Getting Ready to Use the Computer In Expedition Headquarters

A View of Our Home Away From Home (The Trailer)

Kentucky – Black Mountain

2007-12-01T16:05:00.000-05:00

Spanky Plants His Paws On Black Mountain's Summit Rock

Our story begins far too early (3 a.m.) on the morning of June 8th, 2007. Why the hell are we up so god damned early when we have no “real” schedule to keep? Traffic!!! I hate traffic. Spanky hates traffic. We are trying to get to Atlanta and the logistics of said journey require a super early departure in order to properly coordinate total avoidance of the vehicular hysteria in both Tampa and Atlanta. I am glad to report a resounding success – we beat the traffic! Just barely – apparently Atlanta’s Friday afternoon mayhem starts to gear up just a wee bit after mid day. God bless all you commuters out there – I don’t know how you do it.

We last headed into Atlanta on April 1st. I distinctly remember pulling into the toll booth on 400. The toll collector had a blank look on her face, did not say hello, goodbye, thank you, nothing, and she moved pretty damn slow. I would have to guess she hates her job, maybe life in general, a miserable human being wallowing in a quagmire of wretched existence (strong – suffice to say she wasn’t a happy camper). This time, however, me and Spanks were presented with a smiley face, happy, friendly custodian of the tolls. She greeted us warmly, miss charged us, said, “Ah Shit”, apologized for “Cussing” (probably for Spanky’s sake), all the while smiling. We parted with a mutual, “Have a nice day!” and went about our business.

So why is it that some people just don’t get it? You can make another person’s day with a smile and a little bit of common courtesy. Don’t expect people to smile at you unless you smile at them. And………..it makes for a better day for your own self. Act happy and friendly long enough and you’ll end up being friendly and happy instead of being caught up in your crap. Why spend life as a purveyor of gloom and doom?

Me and the Spankster had a great weekend in Atlanta. Saturday afternoon, a bunch of guys and gals that I used to work with in Tampa (late 80’s through ’91) got together for a kick ass BBQ at my friend Tom’s casa. Spanky thoroughly enjoyed the event – he got petted constantly and he especially enjoyed feasting on substantially all the leftover burgers and chicken. It was a fine time, several of us had not seen one another in over ten years.

I start thinking (sometimes dangerous) that all these people have a reasonable measure of success in their lives. They are all professionals with excellent jobs, many of them have or are in the process of raising kids and putting them through universities, etc. Then there is me? What the hell am I doing? Traipsing around the countryside with my dog, popping up hear and there like a village idiot searching for a new village to inhabit. It’s food for thought, but the truth is…….I’m happy for there success but I would not trade my current gig with Spanky for, well let’s see, nope, anything.

On Sunday, the Spankster and I headed to Decatur, GA (an Atlanta suburb) to have a couple of cups of most excellent, brewed strong, black as tar, cups of French Roast with my ex wife, Helje. Her and Spanky got along famously. Actually we get along just fine today as well. She just moved into a new old house – a cottage type affair built in the 30’s. It’s a really quite charming. Great fenced in back yard for Spanky to sniff around and do other doggy stuff. Good luck with the new digs!

Sunday evening finds us with my buddy Matt, his wife Helen, their daughter Sara and last but not least their pooch Smudge. Smudge is a medium to large dog – some unheard of breed that I can never remember. The important thing is that Smudge and Spanks had a wonderonomous time running around the large backyard chasing a tennis ball till their tongues were ready to fall out of their snouts. And……..neither Smudge or Spanks seemed to mind being fed copious quantities of carne de cow during and after our meal.

Now for some summit stuff. The next state summit to sacrifice itself to Spanky’s paw prints is Black Mountain, Kentucky. As always, we needed a dog friendly place to stay for a few nights within spittin distance of our summit goal. We found a KOA in north east Tennessee (Bristol/Kingsport KOA) that is only about 60 miles from the peak.

Within minutes of our arrival at the KOA, I take Spankster for a walk, we run into a pair of dogs, a small white one and a small black one. The white dog is named Harley and…..you won’t believe it, coincidence of coincidences, the black one is named Spanky – what are the chances? You can imagine the ensuing confusion. Both Spankys playing together with both owners trying to get their attention saying, “Spanky come here.” Funny thing is that the other Spanky seemed to be listening to me while my Spanky paid more attention to Spanky #2’s master.

On Tuesday, June 12th, 2007, the boy and I set forth with the hope of putting yet another summit notch on the proverbial belt. Our plan of attack takes us from Tennessee, through a bit of western Virginia, into Kentucky roughly along the Daniel Boone Heritage Trail. Boone, the legendary frontiersman, explorer, and trapper blazed this trail through the virgin wilderness of the Appalachians in the late 1700’s. The trail served as the road west for many a settler. Boone headed west himself because (get this – we are talking about the 1700’s) it was getting too crowded back east. He is rumored to have said, “If I can stand in my front yard and see smoke from my neighbor’s chimney, it has become too crowded.”

We head up into the Appalachians, the scenery is just superb! It’s a cornucopia of hills, mountains, streams, rivers, rock faces and cliffs covered with dense hardwood forests extending to the horizon in all directions. But……….the Appalachians, which were formed many many moons ago, consist of folded and thrust faulted sedimentary and volcanic rocks. And…..within these folds of rock, sometimes exposed, sometimes not, lies coal, which means coal mining.

One of the mining methods, which is prevalent in the Black Mountain area is “mountain top removal.” It is just what it sounds like. It sucks to see the natural beauty, ripped apart, scarred and defoliated just so us humans can live more comfortably. I’m not going to get into some kind of “green peace, save the whale and the snail darter” bullshit. I’m just as guilty as the next guy of benefiting from coal generated power. But I must remember that there is always a cost for my comforts.

Black Mountain, KY actually sits on Penn, VA Coal Mining Co property. The mining company is nice enough to allow hikers to the summit but requests a signed waiver of liability in exchange for the privilege (I complied and mailed in the waiver). Anyhow, there is actually a narrow, one lane road that leads to within a few hundred yards of the summit. Spanks felt like a nice hike – hell it was a gorgeous day. We parked the old Dodge on the road side, and took off to hike up the last approximately 1.6 miles.

The summit road/trail is through dense forest so there are barely any panoramic views to be had along the way. Within about a quarter mile of the summit we pass a huge FAA radar dome (used for FAA regional ATC). Rather unsightly but it’s got to go somewhere if we want to jet around the world. We finally make it to the summit, 4,145 ft at around noon. As has been the case with a few other highpoints, the summit is littered with antennae (radio, tv, whatever). Gotta remember, this is private property and they are free to rent the space.

Unfortunately, there is no view from the top either. Black Mountain’s summit is another fairly rounded mountain top. The dense foliage blocks any potential view of surrounding mountains or valleys. Fortunately the USGS summit marker is off in the woods, on top of some rocks, in a shady little clearing. Spanks and I sat on the rocks, drank some water, and enjoyed the quiet solitude of the forest for a while and then started our trek back to the truck.

On the way off the summit, we ran into a bunch of tree guy/logger types who where clearing the right of way for the lines running up to the mountain top antennae – they were sitting down on the edge of the woods having lunch. I can just imagine what these guys were thinking. These are a bunch of chain sawing, tree climbing, sweaty, dirty, hard working southern boys wearing t-shirts, jeans, and logging boots. They see me in hiking shorts, hiking boots, wearing a back pack, and with this little white dog. I just know they are thinking, dumb ass yankee city boy!

Actually they were nice to me and Spanky. Spanky, of course, said hello to all of them with his usual Spanky enthusiasm. One of em asks me (and it took me 3 times to understand his southern drawl), “Is that your bear dog?” They proceeded to tell me that there are a lot of black bear up there. “I just saw tracks in the mud over yonder” another one added. I was also informed that the woods were chock full of rattlers and copperheads. I know that there are bears and snakes in the woods but I think these boys were playing with us just a little. In any case, they were nice friendly working dudes, we enjoyed our little chat and moved on.

On our way to Black Mountain I noticed a sign for “Natural Tunnel State Park.” What’s this, I wonder – I said to myself. Had to find out. On our way home we stopped. What a great find. Turns out that this is the only place in the world that a railroad track has been laid through a natural tunnel/cavern. The VA State Park people have built a fenced in catwalk that provides awesome views from high above the tunnel.

Spanky and I head up the trail to the catwalk with no idea of what to expect. All of the sudden we are on the edge of nowhere! I don’t know about you but when I suddenly get to the edge of something way the hell up in the air, I get a little bit of funny feeling in my stomach. It’s a stupendous view. The catwalk goes right up to edge of a canyon, several hundred feet deep, the canyon ends in a cliff face and there is a big old natural cavern opening at the bottom with what looks like a miniature set of railroad tracks coming out (you gotta look at the pics).

The gods were with us once again. Just as we got to the overlook, I hear the rumblings of a train. The noise was echoing off the tunnel and canyon walls. The intensity of the sound steadily grew until we saw the train’s headlight emerge from the pitch black of the cavern. I started imagining some kind of ghost train for lost souls ascending from the depths of Hades. It really did not sound of this world.

The natural tunnel is 850 feet long. It was formed over a million years ago by acid bearing groundwater percolating up through crevices and slowly dissolving the surrounding dolomite and limestone bedrock. It is locally proclaimed as the eighth natural wonder of the world, but……there are many such local proclamations. If you ever happen to be in extreme south west Virginia, it is absolutely worth stopping and taking a look see.

A few miles down the road from the tunnel, in Scott County, VA, we stumbled on what I deem to be “real find.” Only in this part of the country could you find a place called “Lazy Time Pickin Parlor.” I could not pass without stopping. Out front there’s a bunch of older gentlemen sitting on chairs, talking, and spittin tobacco juice into cups. I stopped, chatted for a while, they asked where I was from, I explained what me and Spanks are up to, they think I’m crazy but wished us good luck nevertheless, they informed me that I really needed to go to the back room and check it out.

The front room is a vintage and new guitar store. The back room is a real, honest to goodness, pickin parlor. Bunch of people sittin in and pickin and a playin in front of a fireplace. Lots of comfortable seating around for folks to sit and listen. The current pickers consisted of an acoustic guitar, a banjo, a fiddle, an electric bass, and good old electric Telecaster. Just as I walked in they started up playin some of the finest blue grass I ever heard. I listened for a while and snapped a couple of pics – could of stayed there all day. I had to get back to the truck, it was a hot day and I didn’t want Spanster to cook. I politely said thanks and goodbye to the fellas out front and on our way we went.

More stories to come your way soon.

Thanks as always!

Me and Spanky Under The Observation Tower

The Tower (not fit for climbing)

USGS Summit Marker

View From The Summit Approach Hike

Mining Away A Mountain

Left Side - Natural, Right Side - Mining

Mountain Tops Gone!

Train Emerges From The Natural Tunnel

Closer View Of The Tunnel

The Lazy Time Pickin Parlor

Pickin In The Parlor