Get me to an overlook or an exceptionally nice area to see the vistas...and you practically have to pry me loose with a crowbar.
Once I was up on the summit of Hawksbill, I didn't want to head down. There's something extremely depressing about leaving a mountaintop for me. It's like the beginning of the end. Okay, I know I have to head back to the bottom of the mountain and then home...so I try to dither as long as I possibly can before facing the music.
So it was on the top of Hawksbill. I stayed up there taking hundreds of photos, but at last I had to face facts and begin the trek back to the road and the waiting truck.
|About 1800 feet below...the creator of the Gorge--the Linville River.|
|I don't know what plant produces these bright red berries, but they were pretty so I tried to get a good macro shot of them. I failed. Color is nice, though.|
|Looking up from one of my photography spots back toward the wind-swept summit of Hawksbill Mountain.|
|One last look down into the bottom of the Gorge.|
|Not sure what shrub this is. But this specimen looks very old.|
|The old, eroded trail leading down from the top.|
|There really is nothing quite like hiking through a rhododendron tunnel.|