Tuesday, December 15, 2020

A Butler Mountain Story

 

I was asked to house sit for a couple


of college professors in Asheville, North


Carolina while they vacationed in Europe.


Their house was nestled in a serene for-


ested area of Butler Mountain.



I am an urban, metropolitan flat-lander


from the Midwest, so I couldn’t resist


the opportunity to spend a glorious


summer month in the captivatingly


beautiful Smokey Mountain Region


of the Appalachians.



The professors warned me that if I was


to go hiking in the mountains to be care-


ful to stick to the marked trails lest I


get lost or perilously wander into an


illicit encampment of the notorious


and temperamental Appalachian moon-


shiners.



And be aware of the black bears. Make


some noise as you wind your way through


the wooded areas to warn them you’re


coming. Other than that and likelihood of


getting lost or slogging through growths


of poison ivy, you should be okay.



What the hell, I got to thinking, I’m


a big city boy just wanting to spend


some peaceful non-threatening time


out in nature.



On a hike up to the top of Black


Mountain one fine day, I did see a


golden hawk majestically circling


above me, and was elated by the


call of it’s shrill whistling. Oh, how


I do admire and love the pristine


natural sights and sounds of the


glorious out-of-doors.



I’m especially fond of that which


is either unwilling or unable to shoot,


poison or tear me to pieces.



                  -30-


Chris Hanch 12-14-2020


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