Hike 8: Kennesaw Mountain Kolb Farm Loop

Yesterday, I hiked at Kennesaw Mountain. Lately, I've been hiking out of the area covered by my year long hiking project; I camped and hiked with Livy and my mom at Cheaha State Park in Alabama, and I did a piece of the Appalachian Trail because I wanted to see the fall leaves. But yesterday, I was back into my regular life hiking, so after I took Livy to her classes, I went the Kennesaw Mountain National Battlefield Park.

The Kolb Farm loop is 6 miles (I did a little more) and runs from the Illinois Monument at Cheatam Hill down to Kolb Farm and back. It's flatter than the part that goes over the mountain and less wooded. I really like the open fields and meadows, especially in fall when the native grasses are so beautiful. One of my favorite views is from the top of a hill, looking down over a meadow partially gone to pines. The trees at the end of the meadow were aflame with beautiful color, and the path at the top of the hill sweeps around the highest part of the meadow in a lovely curve. Whenever I walk it, I imagine I am one of the Dashwoods, and we stop here to discuss the picturesque view, and perhaps Elinor draws it.

When Edward says,"I call it a very fine country -- the hills are steep, the woods seem full of fine timber, and the valley looks comfortable and snug -- with rich meadows and several neat farm houses scattered here and there. It exactly answers my idea of a fine country, because it unites beauty with utility," I think of the Kolb Farm Loop and the Shenandoah Valley part of the Appalachian Trail and Skyline Drive. I think I agree with Edward. I love the look of beautiful settings, but touched by human hands, made sacred by love and work and people living their beautiful lives. My broodings of human interaction with Kennesaw Mountain, though, are sometimes less lovely. I can also imagine the death and misery that happened here during the Civil War, and as I've gotten older, the death seems worse because I imagine how many of them were practically children. A hike here is always sobering to me, as well as lovely.

My hiking yesterday was broody, but not over long ago wars. I was hiking myself into a state of calmness. When my mind is unsettled, nothing is so necessary to me as walking. The farther I walk, the more resigned to the reality of things I get and the more peaceful I become and the more sure I am of being reasonable. Walking seems to push me, not just over miles of actual terrain, but over miles of feelings and thoughts. I walk right through my strong feelings; I feel them completely but with the support of the trees and the path under my feet. I walk out the other side of them into a clearer mind where I can consider facts and ideas carefully and in a measured way. Feeling my feet on the ground and the air in my lungs prevents me from floating away from the real concrete things that are a part of mental disquiet: my feelings, the things in the world that have happened, my actions and their consequences.

But the movement, the walking, the expansive outdoors prevents the opposite as well; I cannot get stuck in the same old details or in myself when I am walking. It is too clear on a path that most of the thngs in the world aren't about me. The woods were here long ago. The meadows weren't cleared for me. The path is well-worn by other feet, and if I never walked it again, it would continue to the place it goes. The sky and the birds and the dirt and the horses that pass do not know me. My concerns are important to me, but they aren't universally important. I can rest in the calm knowledge that, though decisions are hard and understanding things is difficult, my decisions are not SO important. They are only important to me. Hiking makes me understand my place in the world more clearly.

I walked out of the woods more reasonable, calmer, and therefore more capable of real love and real thinking than when I walked in.

Hikes 4 and 5: Sweetwater Creek State Park

Yesterday, Aaron had to work all day on a Sunday, so after a late breakfast with him, I took myself off to Sweetwater Creek State Park (near I-20 and Thornton Rd.) to hike several of the trails in my Hiking Atlanta's Hidden Forests list. It was so beautiful and the day was so perfectly cool and overcast and foresty, that I ended up extending both the hikes quite a bit.

Miles hiked: about 10
Hours walking: 5
Ounces of water consumed: 175
Deer seen: 4
Bears seen that turned out to be logs: 1

The first trail I hiked was the red trail, and it was beautiful! It follows the banks of Sweetwater Creek in a place with gorgeous rapids. I had to clamber over lots of rocks. The only downside was that it was fairly crowded. Then, I joined the white trail, which led me beside the still waters of the creek and then looped back though beds of ferns, up into dry forests, and out into meadows that used to be a farming community. This trail was much less crowded.

The yellow trail was difficult, much more elevation gain than the others, but almost empty of people and completely forested and dark and cool. I was the only person on the orange trail, as far as I could see, and it was not difficult. Some lovely old trees with mossy trunks were highlights of this part.

The best thing about the hike was the distance. It's a lot of fun to hike short distances, but when I hike long, the walking is like sandpaper on my mind. It's abrasive and not always pleasant, but at the end, my internal landscape is silk and without splinters.

This old mill sits just off the red trail.

This mixed bouquet was growing right out of a tree!

In my hiking so far, I've seen a lot of sycamores beside water. The small sycamores look like the embodiment of youth.

Hiking Atlanta in a Year: Hikes 1 and 2 and lots of pictures

Aaron and I will not be traveling quite as much as we normally do this year. It's not a bad thing; in fact, our long-term plan will have us on the road more often. But I need more adventuring this year.

I bought this book: Hiking Atlanta's Hidden Forests: Intown and Out. I like it because the hikes are so geographically focused; all 60 hikes are within 30 miles of Atlanta. Many of them are new to me, though I've hiked the Chattahoochee and Kennesaw Mountain trails pretty thoroughly.

And so my adventure was born. I love themed trips where you collect all of something in your adventure. Aaron and I want to visit every Grand Canyon of X state. We want to drive all of Highway 1 from Key West to Fort Kent, ME. And now I want to hike all the hikes in my new book this year.

I hiked Leita Thompson Memorial Park on Sept. 10. It was a familiar hike; in fact, it was where we hiked for my birthday in January of 2015 with Zahra and the Caseys and Josh in his bow tie. :) It was where Cynthia, Jenn, and I hiked and talked and talked and talked very recently. But on the l0th, I hiked it alone. It was overcast, I listened to my QM lectures, I ran a little, and I avoided, pretty unsuccessfully, an annoying leaf-blowing tractor.

I posted all this on Facebook, but SCREW THAT.

The real new info is this: I hiked a new trail yesterday. I did the Historic Hill Trail and the Trestle Rock Multi-Use Trail at Old Rope Mill Park off exit 9 of 575. It seemed to be focused on mountain bikers (the two short trails I did were walking only), so it makes me a little nervous to contemplate walking the other two. However, checking them off the list in my book and completing this year-long, put-all-the-trails-in-a-virtual-bucket project is worth getting run down by a speeding mountain bike, so I'll go back and do those two as well.

The hiking was very pleasant on this cloudy, cool, Thursday morning. I walked alone, listening to a Freakanomics podcast, then a Buddhist Geeks podcast, then a lecture by Pema Chodron about getting hooked by shenpa and how to get unhooked. I walked very slowly, as I've been sick, and I looked at all the things. Here are some cool ones I saw:

Some of the most fun and cheerfully colorful graffiti I've ever seen:

Under this old railroad bridge:

SO MANY WILDFLOWERS! The dry ones that come in fall and will last, slowly losing all their color and becoming texture alone, in fall and winter.

Beautiful views of the creek:

And the happy, happy dogs in the creek:

The place was full of sycamore trees, which are jumping I did in my childhood into piles of their leaves. The light on the leaves on the sycamores was the most lovely thing I saw, but alas, I couldn't quite catch it with my camera.

A pair of young people let me take a picture of their hammock set-up, and they complimented me on my TARDIS phone case, so I know they were the best kind of people. 

The bridge over the creek:

Proof that fall is coming to GA. I usually see fall drop on us like an anvil; I get up one morning and the leaves are all red, or we skip that and trees go from green to bare. But I caught these leaves in the middle of changing color, and I was so pleased to imagine the last little packets of chlorophyll hanging on to dear life. 

Things I'm Thankful for Today

1. Having someone incredibly loving who will wake up in the night and comfort me after I've had nightmares.

2. An online (and in person) homeschooling community that makes it so easy to homeschool. 20 years ago, I would have had to go it alone.

3. The Lord of the Rings. It makes my heart physically expand in my body when the characters do something noble. I'm so happy Tolkein wrote it.

4. My composition pedagogy class, taught by a professor I really respect.

5. Having a best friend with whom I have never run out of things to talk about. Not even once in more than 7 years.

6. 70s and 80s music played all night at a wedding, with only a song or two from other eras.

7. Dessicated thyroid and iodine.

8. My 7 year old, who watches Gilmore Girls with me and then falls asleep cuddled up beside me in my bed.

9. The chance, granted by Aaron, to go back to school and be home with Livy when she is with us. It's amazing to get to do the two things I most want at the same time.

10. The song "Dust in the Wind" by Kansas.

I Love It When the Seasons Change

The greatest thing about being a forgetful person is that I can reread books and rewatch movies with great pleasure, not just pulling new things from it, but being surprised yet again when the plot twists.

The second greatest thing is the seasons. I forget, when it is winter, what the spring madness and the blooming of the flowers feels like. I forget during spring how heavy and wet the heat presses down in summer. I forget in summer the cool, clean feeling of fall wind. And right now, I can't remember winter clearly enough to write anything except that it's cold.

Fall has come here, a little early, and I am enjoying it so much. The wind and the chill make me feel energetic. I love it when the apples ripen, when it is time to make stew again, when the long pants come out of the garage. I love thinking about Halloween approaching, going to Stone Mountain when it's cool, and watching the leaves begin to turn on the trees. It's not time for fires yet, but I have started to think about them, about reading aloud beside a fire with Aaron and Livy.

The fall makes me want to go out and get a few adventures.