Sunday May 25: Noland Creek Trail, Morning

The last day is upon our weary travelers. The group stumbles about in the misting rain that began the night before, preparing for the day’s hike. There is a lethargy in their movements that speaks not of the state of their worn out bodies, but rather to their reluctance at leaving such wondrous and inspiring beauty behind for the concrete and steal world of modern men. Nevertheless, a long hike is planned. They clear camp and begin the steep trek up the last of the Noland Creek Trail to the Noland Divide.

Sunday May 25: Noland Divide, Afternoon

There are eight more miles to go, a descent down the Noland Ridge to the Deep Creek Campgrounds, the original staging area. It has begun to rain quite steadily and the hikers stop at the intersection of the Noland Creek and Noland Divide Trails for a bite to eat and to break out protective raingear. Chaz and Jamie have pushed ahead eager to get out of the rain and procure a campsite at Deep Creek. The others proceed at a steady pace trying to absorb one last sight, one last venture to round out the entire adventure of the last week.

Sunday May 25: Deep Creek Campground, Early Evening

From the journal of Ben Lebofsky
“Time suspended no more, we arrive back at the beginning. My body aches, my skin is soaked, but my mind rings as clear as a bell. As I leave this lush forest behind my over sensitized senses are assaulted by the unwelcome sights of civilization; and the shapes of man’s creations have become wholly alien to me.

"And yet, as I now lay here, there is a peace within that can not be touched by these outside forces. I feel as if I have shed a binding skin, sweated out a recalcitrant fever. I feel so clean, so unencumbered. I owe a debt to these mountains. As I look back on the days we passed away amongst the Great Smoky Mountains, I can pick no event, no happening that could possibly symbolize the whole journey to me. It is all of a single piece, a single experience that will be forever with me, ultimately to be told and remembered in bits and pieces, but forever a part of my life, forever me.”

Eleven left for the mountains, driven by some inner need to challenge their complacent lives back in Ohio. All were changed in ways subtle and not so subtle. A lifetime of reminisces in a single week. How jealous we are for their experience, how envious of their fortitude, purposefulness, fearlessness. They talked about it for months and unlike most of us, they achieved the dream they pursued. How many of us wish and hope for such things and when all is said and done ask ourselves, “Where has the time gone?” The answer is that wishing and hoping are not enough. One must attack and seize the days before that pass you by. Whatever drives you, whatever stokes your engine, you must remember that the value of a life is not measured in hopes and dreams, but rather in accomplishments. The spore you leave, the trails you negotiate, the rivers you ford, the mountains you climb; more than trophies, these are the things that become you and the things you become. Amen.