Blood Mountain

BLOOD MOUNTAIN

Copyright 2013, Antisense Conscience

 

Lucious green beauty overlaid on rugged terrain; the North Georgia Blue Ridge is a transcendent world of inspiration and reflection. The humming meditative forest sounds…PIERCED by the high pitched SCREAM of Kawasakis, Ducatis, and Yamahas. Wilderness the way Congress intended.

The trick is to visit on a weekday prior to Memorial Day (around 4:30 AM). Another option is tune it all out with the help of BOSTON, SUPERTRAMP, and TED NUGENT! Pick your Poison (“Every Rose has its Thorn” thrown in for good measure). After hearing “More Than a Feelin” or “Cat Scratch Fever” one hundred thirty seven times each week, sounds stop being a distraction.

Most of the tedious hours measuring and counting seedlings and saplings of Appalachian trees is spent reflecting on the good times, and there are plenty to choose from after weeks of field sampling on Blood Mountain. Including friendly conversation and pertinent first aid advice from a red salamander relaxing on a stream-side boulder.

Feel that bony piece of skull behind your left ear? Every time I touch mine I have flashbacks of conversing amphibians. Anyone who knows the feeling of cracking the back of their head on an igneous outcrop understands that a salamander can be a very comforting companion while applying direct pressure.

The salamander only nearly rivals playing tag with a swarm of yellow jackets after accidentally jamming a measuring rod into their underground hive. If you ever have the pleasure, run down slope, FAST, and swat at your ears.

Field Tip #1: Yellow jackets go for the lobes.

My ears take a beating out there, assaulted by sound, stone, and swarm. Don’t go into the woods without earmuffs. Make that a helmet.

Field Tip #2: Don’t go into the woods without earmuffs or a helmet.

On a warm early June day in 2001, just on the precipice of the hot muggy season, the always fateful “LAST DAY OF FIELD SAMPLING” arrives at last!

Field Tip #3: Never tell anyone which day is the “LAST DAY OF FIELD SAMPLING”, or it almost certainly will not be.

Being off trail and enveloped by the wilderness is a wonderful and exciting experience recommended to all (who have the proper permits). Chances at sights, sounds, and feelings uncommon or impossible in high traffic areas include:

High cascading falls through dense canopy;
Secluded moist grottos with stout plunging falls and overhanging foliage darkening the sky just overhead;
A herd of whitetail bedded down in the afternoon heat;
Owls calling to each other from neighboring trees;
Mother quail sacrificing her safety to secure her brood quietly scampering away under the diversion; and
Your bones stripped of flesh and never found again.

Oh yes, the unthinkable hides here also.

Field Tip #4: Never wear headphones alone, off trail, in a forest full of carnivorous megafauna (What about drowning out the motorcycles? Uh…see Field Tip #2 on earmuffs and helmets.).

After about an hour at the large clearing I’ll call Study Plot 1, singing along to some Foreigner and Bad Company, I hear a distinct, loud, SNAP! Not your typical empty forest sound, but something large stepping on something brittle. My head slowly rises from seedlings and notes, deliberately swivels, as my jaw quickly slackens. Lynard Skynard and “Gimme 3 steps” has betrayed my ears for the last time. My finger switches off the bright yellow Walkman at my hip, and the heavy panting, sniffing, and guttural exclamations of 300 lbs of black hair, ripping incisors, and steely claws replace my classic audio.

Surprisingly, one’s first impression in such a situation isn’t so much fear, as AWE. Followed quickly by mortal fear, especially if said agent of imminent doom is only 30 ft upslope and can out run and climb any mortal Homo sapiens.

The pair of intruders lock eyes for infinite seconds, but suddenly the beast begins moving on its way, parallel to my position. Exhale, and normal breathing resumes. Well, until the beast meanders to its left, downhill, and in a wide circling arc, a single shark in the water. Slowly down slope, towards…MY PACK!

Flashback, three hours previous. Spread the peanut butter, then the jelly, put both sides together and bear bait is complete. For freshness always keep bear bait in a sealed sandwich bag. Oops, no sealable bags? Uh…just wrap it up in some aluminum foil, throw it in the backpack with granola bars, water, sampling supplies, and the university’s GPS. Time for fun on our “LAST DAY OF FIELD SAMPLING”!

Fast forward, mere seconds have passed since the snap of the twig, awe, then fear. Now comes the less subtle emotion, PISSED! That oversized Chihuahua is after my lunch! My only recourse is to yell obscenities and beat my measuring rod, a 1.5 inch diameter by 5.5 foot long piece of bamboo, on rocks, trees, and logs.

Field Tip #5: Do not use bamboo to scare bears in Asia, some of them like the stuff.

My nemesis picks up speed, grabs the pack in its jaws on the way by, and makes a B-line for deeper forest.

Think fast! What do you do? Moms around the world say, “Runaway at the sound of the twig snapping you idiot!” My brain says, “Pack includes PB&J, granola, every water bottle, the university’s GPS (that’ll cost you), and car keys. All valuable, but there is the personal safety issue.”

So I yell, “Get away from my SANDWICH!”, and begin running at the future floor covering swinging my bamboo staff at anything within reach.

Field Tip 6: Professional outdoorsmen suggest quietly backing away from any black bear encounter.

Humans ultimately can’t overpower or out-last the forces of nature, but sometimes we out-flank her for a little while. Pure insanity, this time, wins the field of battle. The hip belt on the pack is punctured; water bottles, car keys, and the GPS spilled onto the dirt, but it’s all MINE again! Celebrations are usually short lived when the enemy has retreated only 30 ft, but optimism persists.

Have you ever been intimidated by a bear? I mean purposefully intimidated. Similar to the high school senior that jumps at a much smaller freshman just to see him flinch and quiver. No, you say? Meet the varsity defensive end...with claws (You didn’t believe me with Field Tip #2 and the helmet, eh?).

Mano y mano. The first move is mine, a series of curses and commands in English. Not my adversary’s native tongue. The response reminds me I am dealing with a superior communicator. Front paws rise off the ground, then smack back to Earth with sudden power. Clouds of dust erupt into the air, with a low rumbling growl as accompaniment. Now, I can’t claim to translate growls, ask my dog, but body language is hard to mistake on a primeval level. My response, chuck the PB&J. Round 2 to the local bear!

Field Tip 7: Wildlife becomes acclimated to humans quickly if food is easily acquired.

Our well fed bully is kept busy long enough to pick my keys and the GPS off the ground (my ultimate escape from Blood Mountain, and about $400 in my bank account, secured). But…wait a minute here! This granola and water is my life line. I make a stand, again.

Bears are not big stupid brutes, and this one is a quick study. I yell, scream, beat my bamboo staff, acting much more wild than the locals. Ursus gives a couple more grunts and paw slaps. Hint taken, I back up the slope away from the pack. Ursus slowly saunters forward, growls, slaps its paws. Backing up some more, the booty is lost, my vain threat disregarded.

Did you know that bears unwrap granola bars? This one is quite particular about packaging, but all are eventually opened and eaten. Water bottles, all three punctured. After biting through one, our hairy prodigy tries squeezing it between one paw and the Earth. Squirted, right in the face! A clawed mitt gently reaches up and brushes its cheek. So tender…until all the food is gone.

Looney Tunes was right. When a hungry, snarling, and drooling carnivore gives a longing look, you feel like YOU’RE the T-bone steak.

Field Tip 8: When the dinner bell is ringing, don’t keep cookie waiting. Hightail it back to camp.

For some people Field Tip 7 takes a while to sink in (But Field Tip 8 sinks in right away). Being the last thing on the menu does motivate some eventually. So I back my way, with all deliberate speed, up the Blue Ridge slope. Not so fast! The persistent menace begins its slow ascent. I turn and put it in another gear. Looking back, my stalker gives up and shakes down my pack one more time for crumbs.

Field Tip 9: For your safety stay on designated trails in the wilderness.

Back at the AT all is clear, and if things get hairy again an all out sprint on open trail is the plan. Twenty minutes later, no sign.

Has your life ever been threatened in an unforgettable place, and you had little choice but to return to the spot again? Not an envious plight, but the “LAST DAY OF FIELD SAMPLING” must not be forsaken! Something almost twice my weight, strength, speed, stealth, and armament potentially lurking behind every tree, under every shrub, and creating every noise. “Once more into the breach”, armed with only my heightened awareness, and bamboo.

At Study Plot 1 my food is gone, water is gone, but my pack and sampling supplies are still intact.

So…what would you do? Me, I reach down real slow, flip the switch, and “Frampton Comes Alive”! Do you feel like I do?