The Great Smokies!

On March 17th, 2012, myself, my brother, my cousin, and my neighbor and friend went on a journey to Great Smoky Mountains National Park.  The trip that I had wanted to make during summer the year before had finally come together.

Before the trip to the Smokies started, Bryan and I had slept a meager 2 hours (Robby, who was with us, got much more sleep), waking up at 6:45.  I assume part of the reason was our excitement for the trip and the ease with which we are lulled into insomnia by video games and computers.

We packed all of our last minute things and left Bryan's condo, including some stuff Thomas had left when he was visiting.  We drove to Thomas's house and picked him up.

It was interesting.  The trip had been preceded by a lot of strange conflict and conundrums.  First, my parents had insisted that I not be allowed to go unless I purchase a satellite phone (ended up buying a SPOT GPS device, which lets you alert family that you're alright, and has an emergency button), and bear spray (we got pepper spray for humans, but whatever).  There were also debates about how much we should pack, whether we should bring plastic bottles or nalgenes, etc.

Well, we alternated driving the car (though I ever ended up driving) until we made it to the Smokies.  When we entered the park, there was an absolute feeling of euphoria.  I was blown away by the beauty of it all - the scent of fresh air, the feeling of river mist upon my skin, the towering trees up above...  We drove along a rushing river, and music was playing as we all laughed gleefully.  As the joyous wind flowed against my face, I could instantaneously feel the weight of months of stress, addiction, feeling lost, just whisked away.

We drove through Cade's Cove, taking pictures of the beautiful scenery along the way.  Finally, we got to the visitor center and got our permit.  We walked a bit across a field and along a road until we got to the trailhead.

In the map below, you can see the visitor center's position relative to the trailhead.  We made our way along the Abrams Falls trail.  It was beautiful scenery, and there were these awesome bridges along the trail made of a flattened log with railing on one side.

We got to Abrams falls and enjoyed the view.  It was extremely relaxing to just lie on the rocks in the sunlight.  There were some small blue-gray butterflies that kept landing on us as well.

We continued on, attempting to get to Campsite 16.  But on the map, where Abrams Falls Tr. intersects with Little Bottoms Tr., we came upon a creek crossing that was too strong and fast to cross safely.  

A Humid Hocking Hills (& a canoe trip)

It's about time I started posting again. It's been 3/4s of a year, but on July 22nd of 2011, I went camping with my brother Bryan in Hocking Hills.

It is, of course, a common place for us to visit due to its convenience. But it's far from the most rugged and wild experience.

How this trip would go was perhaps foreshadowed by the fact that my plans to backpack in the Great Smokies were shut down. We even were planning on going to Mohican (since he hadn't been there in the summer), but those sites were full.

So at 6:30pm, we got a walk-in primitive site, H-13, at Hocking Hills. We got the tent set up quickly, and got everything inside, when it instantly started raining. We lied around listening to the rain, which was welcome as it cooled things down.

This summer and spring has been hot and humid, partly due to La Nina, and (I suspect), somewhat due to climate change (at least the intensity of the heat, not the heat per se).

At night, it rained some more for a little bit. The cool air was welcome. I saw lots of stars through the tree canopies.

The night was pretty awful though; my sinuses were completely stuffed up. I kept getting temporary relief by blowing my nose and popping my ears. Somehow, I eventually fell asleep, and woke up the next day with a clear nose.

Well, the next morning we went on a much needed jog up and down the campsite path. Did about 2 miles. After that, we drove to the visitor's center to cool off, and then hiked at Old Man's Cave. Waded through the water a bit.

Then we drove to Rock House and explored that. We napped in the parking lot for a bit, and I kept having dreams about us not hiking I think. Then we went to the Rock House and I had Bryan go down the ol' Rock Slide with me.

Then we drove around and looked at some random little gift shops and food areas. There were a lot of random kitschy baubles. Then we drove to a place called Lake Logan. It was an artificial lake created by a dam. And it had a fake beach.

It was pretty windy and cool, and we could see a storm brewing in the distance. Nice weather, and it was admittedly quite relaxing to sit around there. But it all felt so out of place.

After that, we returned to the campsite. At one point during the evening (8:22 according to my written journal), there was a bit of serenity. Droplets coaxed by the wind fell from the canopy above onto our tent. Fog was rolling like silence through the forest floor. It was beautiful. Both the humidity and the hectic pace of consumer America were quashed by the cool dampness that seemed to be emitting from the trees. Even the frantic flies had settled. There was just a bird or two. Sitting. Singing softly. Serenity.

That night was a bit better in terms of my sinuses, though I did have a headache, which I relieved by putting a heavy object on my forehead.

The next morning was deceivingly cool. We had foregone dinner the previous evening, so we both had 2 hot dogs.

We packed some things up and headed over to Conkle's Hollow and Ash Cave. They were, of course, beautiful.

We decided not to stay another night. Around 4pm, we went to a local Italian diner to eat. It was quite tasty.

Here is what I wrote on my journal about this experience:

"It was very humid the whole trip, and I wonder if I could have backpacked in this weather. I believe a problem with this trip was that we always were in a car to drive somewhere, so we A) never adjusted to the heat and B) Always had our mind on the future, the A/C, rather than the present.

I also wonder if my thoughts of Allison kept me distracted from the present.*

Another issue is that Hocking Hills is such a sight-seeing park. In Ash Cave, as I stared at the beautiful waterfall, the layers of jade-green leaves and their dark trunks, and the looming, somehow iridescent cave, I felt that desire for "more," to "take it in." It felt like the same urge you get when you try to fulfill true needs with reified material things.

I realized this is the same sort of nature objectification that millions take part in each year around the country.

To fully revel in nature, you must BE it. I wanted to climb the rocks & trees, swim in the water, and go barefoot.

How else can you truly experience nature? This is why a backpacking trip with close friends in true wilderness is necessary and desirable. Real, Genuine human beings & nature are the key to life. Otherwise, there is no fulfillment. There is no actualization & fulfillment. There is no wonder, there is no transcendence."

That is all I have to say about Hocking Hills.

But as a side-note, 2 weeks prior to this trip I went on a day trip canoeing with 5 friends on the Little Miami River in Ohio. It was a good time. We swam around sometimes in the river and explored the land. Other highlights include a jumping platform someone had made from barrels (it brought me back to Phelps Lake), and a rope swing tied to a tree. I went off of it twice, and on my second time, went high and far. It was exhilarating.

*A girl that I had a crush on. After this trip, I visited her in Seattle and we are now dating. hoorah!

Backpacking Rant of '11

Maybe I'm just spoiled. I still went camping, after all. And I get to travel to Beijing. Not to mention, I've fallen in love.

So maybe I'll just sound like a privileged white (asian) guy ranting about his first world problems when I say that I am extremely bewildered and rather frustrated that I have not gone backpacking. Hear me out, though.

I remember the long nights spent tired, awake, and angry. Angry at the world, at the homework I was doing, and especially at myself. Laziness and what could only be described as an addiction to one of civilization's greatest "achievement," the internet, resulted in extreme procrastination. There I was, typing up an essay or using a statistics program (and wandering the quiet, empty halls of the dorm room, which seemed more like the halls of a prison or insane asylum) from 1 in the morning till 7.

And of course, the more this happened, the more frustrated I became with modern society. And the more frustrated I became, the more I tried to search - to no avail, of course - for the kind of wonder and fulfillment that only community and nature can bring. I would browse websites for hours trying to find a nice nature picture or videos. I remember watching, during those nights, videos of people hiking the Appalachian Trail. The desire to be out there, in nature, in the forest, by the streams and mountains, was insatiable and nearly drove me insane.

It's okay, I thought. It's spring, and summer is coming soon. When that happens, of course I'll be able to gather some friends and go backpacking for a week. A week of backpacking with a limited food supply that provides the bare minimum for sustenance.

My philosophy is that nature is a fundamental human right. And when I say nature, I mean true exposure to nature. We can objectify pretty nature scenes with snow-capped mountains, flowering fields, and tall redwoods all we want. But it means absolutely nothing if all we do is drive on a road, stop to take a picture, and leave. Don't fuck nature - make love to it. And appreciate nature even if it doesn't fit society's standards of natural beauty.

This was my thinking when I planned out a backpacking trip in the Great Smoky Mountains. I wasn't going to drive down a road, take a picture of the mountains, and leave. I was going to walk for miles in the embrace of the trees. I wanted to let the dirt and mud seep between my toes. I wanted to feel the pulse of the rocks as I touched them and wrapped myself around them. I wanted to smell the air and swim in the streams. I wanted to watch the stars at night and remind myself how insignificant things are. It wouldn't have mattered that I was just in a forest that some might call "plain" and "boring." I don't necessarily need huge mountains or canyons to enjoy nature. I just need wilderness. I've realized over time that a simple forest - perhaps because of its inherent value and inner beauty - is far more breathtaking than any feeble attempt by man to create monuments or temples.

So I contest that I am being a spoiled brat when I complain about not having been able to do this. Everybody should have the right to experience the wonder and beauty of nature, regardless of race or class or anything else. People are entitled to wilderness. To argue otherwise would be insanity. And if wealthy people stuck in their suburban ways experienced this sort of transcendental exposure to nature, maybe they would realize that some things matter more than consumer goods in life, and maybe they would put away their iPads and run outside.

Maybe if billionaires and millionaires experienced true nature, the kind that makes you starve a little before you eat, work a little before you rest, they'd be less reluctant to give up a fraction of their superfluous wealth. Maybe if they were in a forest with other people and no distractions, they would actually TALK to other human beings and realize that life has value. Maybe they would stop exploiting people in third world countries by privatizing basic human needs like water and leaving people to starve and die.

And I guarantee you they would be happier.

This is why I want to go backpacking. Because it at least gives some glimpse into how things COULD be. A life where materialistic nothings aren't marketed to you as some sort of fulfilling miracle. Where cars aren't disguised as the harbingers of true love, where iPhones aren't presented as the solution to an evermore isolated and continually crumbling family unit. A life where we have our basic needs met - from physiological to fulfillment.

I am happier when I'm not glued to the computer screen. I am happier when I'm not around people who think "nice things" like cars and televisions and video games and green paper with portraits of dead people on them are more important than living your goddamn life. I am happier when I'm around people who live life in the moment, who are genuine and earnest and cooperative, who are humble and caring and loving and selfless. That is what nature can foster.

...Unfortunately, any friends that would do such a journey with me were either busy working (to make money to buy things to make them feel like they were fulfilled), not in town, or dead/living in a different era. And while I myself would be perfectly content giving a middle finger to the world to escape for a week by myself (and then, upon returning, apologizing for giving the middle finger and sharing stories of my high adventures), I happen to be an Asian child, and Asian children have Asian parents who cry with angry tears when you half-jokingly tell them that you would be interested in hiking the Appalachian Trail once you graduate. Asian parents would much rather you waste money on clothes that you don't need. They suggest you camp in the back yard with an absolutely straight face, and can't seem to understand why that is an absolutely inadequate solution.

While I am ranting without any clear indication of a concluding paragraph, I would like to add that I cannot stand suburban tendencies. Right-wing politicians always blame the poor for being entitled and too coddled with security and safety. They fail to see that the people from the upper-middle class to the super wealthy are the truely entitled and coddled ones. When "I can't even buy a new car" (actual quote) is somehow a justification for cutting basic social programs that help the poor and downtrodden, and "you aren't ready to go backpacking" even though I have already been backpacking is justification to not go backpacking, it becomes a bit clear who is really sacrificing freedom for security, and who is really demanding more than they need.

I also hate suburban vacation destinations. Why the hell does everybody, from Obama to the Republican Presidential candidates that criticize him for vacationing, vacation in Martha's Vinyard? What is so appealing to white folk about old plantation-style homes and old fancy cars and Hampton Inns? Go experience something REAL for gods sake! Go into the wilderness! If not that, at least go to some towns where things haven't been covered up in a thick coat of sugary white paint, the very same that is used to sugar coat those white picket fences in Littletown, USA.

And why do suburbanites who DO travel to third world countries in South America to give charitable services to children who face daily starvation or lack of healthcare or crime, and claim to have had life-altering experiences, still buy computers and clothes (A&F, Aeropostal, Hollister, etc.) and chocolates (Hershey's, Nestle, Ghiradelli, etc.) made by poor children in similar situations around the world?

I will conclude this non-sequitur rant by saying that yes, I am a privileged, overprotected, and often times whiny might-as-well-be-white Asian kid. And no, I have not done my fair share in giving back to those who do not have enough. But will somebody just let me go backpacking in the wilderness for at least a week so that I can begin to break away from this wasteful and menial way of life?

tl;dr (too long didn't read) version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdIVOC_cNJI

Photo of the moon w/ new camera.

Camera, Beehive Collective, and other things.

I'd like to start with a video I found from this past summer. I believe it was taken the morning after the thunderstorm video/twilight video were taken in this post.


Well, what's on my mind the most right now is my aunt. She has cancer, and recently got another dose of radiation to the brain. She is now not responding to people. This terrifies me. It sucks to think that it's a problem that seems uncontrollable. So I just want to plea to the human race to get over their greed and solve the controllable problems so we can focus on ones like this. Please.

Anyhow... The other day (tuesday and wednesday), I went to a talk/activist workshop with an awesome artist/environmentalist group called the Beehive Collective. On Tuesday, they were presenting a huge mural that represented the coal industry in Appalachia and its effects. The mural is read like a time-line from left to right, starting with the indigenous peoples of America, moving on into colonialism, and then into the whole current problematic system of exploitation (of both workers and the world) that is the coal industry. Then it goes to see a healed future where we progress to clean energy and return to more land-based living.



I absolutely love how the Bees traveled around talking to people, thus coming to the realization that social justice and economic inequality are so very closely tied to environmentalism. I also like how they focused on the importance of a deep connection to the land that our ancestors once had, and how that is part of the solution to live on a sustainable planet.

All of their artwork is Anti-Copyright, meaning it is for non-commercial use. Anyone can use it to raise awareness, add to their artwork, etc. so long as its free and public. That's how the land has to be.

Anyway, I have been reading this book Greed to Green by Charles Derber, and it is pretty great so far. It talks a lot about the intertwining aspects of the economy and the environment. One thing that struck me as unusual, though, was that at one point Derber talks about the problem of suburban sprawl, and how people need to curb their desire to have more open land and just live in cities, where housing is compact.

I get his point, but the problem is not the desire for land, the problem is the reification and privatization of the land. If we could have open, natural land that was available for all to use responsibly and respectfully, then that would by far outdo any sort of city living.

Derber sees more leisure as the solution to becoming less consumptive in our current "work more, consume more, enjoy less" society. But I see nature being the key. I have had free time in the city. I still consume. Granted, I am not near my family in the city, but neither are millions who live in them. Nature is the key.

Nature is one of two fundamental desires (other than needs like food, sleep, etc.), the other being a genuine communal social life.

I like that Beehive Collective understands the importance of returning to a more land-based lifestyle.

Finally, I (and I realize the hypocrisy given what I just said about consumption) recently got a Canon sx30is camera. I am looking forward to capturing nature with it to share. I became an RA for a new dorm here at college, which is why my parents got it. I just hope I can put it to good use to share the beauty and importance of nature.

Peace.

Plans for a Great Smoky adventure

I hope for one of my next camping trips to be a week-long backpacking trip in Great Smoky Mountains National Park.



One of the things I look most forward to is just being out there for so long and adapting to a less consumptive, less time-wasting lifestyle. Without trivialities to your time, the day feels so much fuller as well as fulfilling.

The scenery will be beautiful, though some might not think it compares to the west. Yet there's something about a plain forest that I've grown fond of ever since Shenandoah. So simple, yet so beautiful. So seclusive, or perhaps inclusive. The canopy of leaves so serene and protective, yet so inviting to danger and exploration, adventure and mystery...


Abram Falls

In order to stay plenty transcendental, I aim to stick to my vegetarianism during this trip, and ration the food to only as much as I need each day. That way, I only eat when my stomach growls, and stop when it's full. The long hikes with a backpack will also be a sort of enjoyable labor that will make the day seem so much less wasteful.

Here is a tentative camping supply list:

FOOD

• Water bottle

• Supercat Alcohol Stove

• Alcohol Fuel

• Cooking Pot

• Utensils

• Ramen Packs

• Oatmeal packs

• Hot coco packs

• powdered soup/dehydrated veggies?

• Dried fruit

• GORP/trailmix

• Beans

• Potatoes?

• Bag of Flour/salt

• Oil?

• Block of cheese?

EQUIPMENT

• Tent, stakes, poles

• Lantern/Flashlight

• Backpack

• Rope

• Matches

• Flint & Steel

• Sleeping Bag

• Knife

• Binoculars?

• Camera

• Phone (emergency) – satellite phone/gps?

CLOTHING

• 3 pairs clean socks

• Boots

• 3 pairs underwear

• 1-2 pairs pants

• 1-2 pairs cargo shorts

• 1-2 T-shirts

• 1 longsleeve shirt

• WINTER: jackets, scarf, hat, gloves, etc. etc.

FIRST AID/SURVIVAL

• Band-aids

• Neosporin

• Gauze Pads

• Iodine

• Alcohol Swabs

• Q-tips

• Medical Tape

• Wet-ones

• Tylenol/headache medicine

• Sewing kit

• Orange garbage bag?

HYGIENE

• Dr. Bronner's 18 in 1 soap

• Hand Sanitizer

• Grass clippings for toilet paper (also collect while hiking)

• Emergency TP

• Wet-ones (emergency use)

• Trash bag (try keeping trash to a minimum)

• Water bottle for cleaning

• Floss?

• Toothbrush

• Trowel

And here is the tentative trail we would take:

Great Smoky Mountains Backpacking Trip

Drive to Cades Cove Loop Road.

Day One – August 31^st

• Hike Abram Falls Tr. (4.2 mi)

• Left on Hannah Mountain Trail (1.9 mi)

• Continue to Backcountry Campsite (B.C.) 14 (~3 mi)

• Total: 9.1 miles

Day Two – September 1^st

• Hike Hannah Mountain Trail (~4.6 mi)

• Hike Gregory Bald Trail (4.1 mi)

• Right on Wolf Ridge Trail to B.C. 95 (~4.2mi)

  • Note: Take a left for about .4mi to reach Gregory Bald

• Total: 12.9 mi

Day Three – September 2^nd

• Hike Wolf Ridge Trail (2.1 mi)

• Left at Twentymile Trail (3.5 mi)

• Continue on Lost Cove Trail to B.C. 91 (~1.3 mi)

• Total: 6.9 mi

Day Four – September 3^rd

• Explore Hazel Creek Trail, Bone Valley Trail, etc.

• Stay at Backcountry Campsite 91

Day Five – September 4^th

• Hike the rest of Lost Cove Trail (1.4 mi)

• Keep left onto Eagle Creek Trail until reaching B.C. 97 (~5.8 mi)

• Total: 7.2 mi

Day Six – September 5^th

• Hike Eagle Creek Trail (2.9 mi)

• Continue on Bote Mtn Trail (1.7 mi)

• Left at Anthony Creek Trail (3.5 mi)

• Arrive at the Cades Code loop road

Here's a map of the hike, going from light to dark green:


Click to enlarge!
Click here for the full PDF Map!

So hopefully my friends will be able/willing to go and go backpacking as well. Oh, I forgot to mention another thing: No toilet paper.

I don't want to bury toilet paper, because it leaves behind disgusting litter and harms the environment. But I sure as hell don't want to pack out my used toilet paper in some bag right next to my clothes and food. So I did some research and found an article about using natural toilet paper, like smooth river rocks with a slight narrow point, or clumps of snow, moss, or grass.



Considering Thomas's dad always mows the lawn and has him sweep the grass clippings into a pile (SO white upper-middle class suburban), I figure I'll just take this natural fertilizer and instead of having them throw it away, use it to wipe my own natural fertilizer.

Of course, something tells me Thomas would be hesitant to let me do this, even though he would lose nothing. Haha.


Gregory Bald

Other places I would like to go backpacking include: Sleeping Bear Sanddunes/North Manitou Island, and anywhere in the West.