YouTube

I have a YouTube account. Occasionally I post video of my trips. Generally my videos are records of my vacations to places as diverse as the Salvador Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Florida, to hikes in Glacier National Park in Montana. They're there for my own pleasure, and as ways for friends and family to see some of the places I've visited. 

I don't do it for money since my account is too small for YouTube to assign it to monetization. There's a minimum number of subscribers one must have to earn funds on YouTube, and I don't have those subscribers.

However, I do watch a number of YouTube channels that are monetized. Some of them earn out impressive sums for their creators. One guy I used to watch had about a million subscribers by the time I stopped visiting his channel. And that's what I want to write about: the reason I stop viewing some content creators on YouTube.

The reason I stopped viewing the guy whose fan base grew to enormous numbers wasn't because he started making tons of money from it. I generally couldn't care less about that. What did bug me about it was purely selfish. Initially I thought of his show as something of a secret. But as his fan base ballooned to crazy numbers the novelty of it faded and I got bored with it and just stopped watching. It was just too much the same every episode, and I also got the impression that some of it was created content rather than the spontaneous exploration that had originally attracted me. So, I wrote it off and haven't seen it in about three years.

One channel I used to watch featured a working class couple who got into hiking for fitness. Their videos showed them as a couple of fatties who did look as if they had been in good shape once upon a time and had let themselves go. They tracked their weight loss as they tackled long hikes and steep mountains and as the months progressed they were no longer overweight and after about two years were once more in excellent physical condition. And they began to wear skimpier and skimpier (and expensive) hiking clothes, showing off their physiques. For whatever reason I began to suspect that the whole thing was a setup. They'd gone DeNiro Raging Bull and had intentionally gained forty pounds each with the scheme of losing the lard online to promote themselves. Finally, watching the pair of them prance around like a couple of tarts made me nauseous. I can't even recall the title of their channel or even if it still exists.

Another guy I used to watch because he posted the best Rocky Mountain hiking information I have ever seen. I could watch his videos and decide whether our not I wanted to tackle a particular mountain when my wife and I head west for a couple of months when she retires. His videos coughed up the finest trail beta I have ever seen with details about trail difficulty and how not to veer off route on some of the tougher hikes. However, he committed what I consider to be a cardinal sin when it comes to producing how-to videos: he got political. In his case it was just one comment. But it turned his show from something fun to watch and into a screed. I couldn't look at him or hear his voice without thinking of him as an idiot. Normally I don't care what a person's political or philosophical beliefs are; but if you're creating a channel about nature then you need to focus on that and only that. Again, I can't even recall his name or the title of his YouTube channel. His was a rare case wherein I actually blocked his presence.

Some creator content I just grow bored with, or happen upon another channel that does the same thing, but in a superior way.

Then there are the folk who achieve financial success with their show and rub it in their fan's faces. Again, I don't begrudge someone turning a profit. That's fine. One hiker/kayaker I follow has achieved success and thanks his fans for allowing him to earn out enough from YouTube to use the funds to travel more widely to more interesting locations. That's okay. But some of these folk just brag. Some of them end up buying expensive toys with the money the viewers allow them to get and show it off. "Look what you losers allowed me to buy." I've axed several shows over this. One couple accumulated many thousands of fans and then attached a button to their screen that allows suckers...I mean viewers...to send them money. The instant they did that I deleted their channel.

So, essentially, unless you are producing a YouTube channel about politics, then it's best to avoid such in your YouTube channel. Just don't do it. Yes, you can attract people of one particular political inclination or another, but you can also lose a bunch of fans who would otherwise watch your show and earn money for you. Just the facts, ma'am.

Finally, along the same vein, are the channels that reach a level of popularity when they become "influencers" in the eyes of manufacturers. This lot of creators get to a point where companies send them expensive gifts with the idea that they will dedicate an episode to giving a positive review of the gifted items. This is pretty much when I take leave of them. One of the channels I watched regularly until the past couple of weeks fell victim to this. His past few videos have been glowing reviews of merchandise that manufacturers have given him. Since he became a so-called influencer I haven't seen him post any of the local travel videos he was putting up almost weekly. I'll be saying goodbye to his channel, too.

And there you have it.

My Hike to the Summit of Mount LeConte and My Stay at LeConte Lodge.

 The first time I saw LeConte Lodge was on a dayhike to the summit of Mount LeConte in 1974. I took the Alum Cave Trail to the top of the mountain and spotted the lodge as I hiked up to the Cliff Tops overlook. Of course I had to take a detour and see the lodge. It was amazing to me that comfortable accommodations were located high on the mountain many miles from the nearest road and with the only access being steep and rocky single-file trails.

Back then the lodge was still being heated with firewood. Later, when the owners of this concession were no longer allowed to gather firewood, they switched to kerosene heaters; and these days the buildings and rooms are warmed with propane heaters.

After I climbed to the cliffs to take some photos and look out over the nearby peaks, I went back for another look at the lodge. I wanted to be able to stay overnight there and stopped in the office to ask how that was done. And, of course, I promised myself that one day I would make the trip up there and stay for a night or two.

Decades passed and somehow I never got the chance to go back, except for dayhikes to the summit. Over those years I managed to find myself hiking up there seven different times via three different trails. When I started working for the USPS I would call and try to arrange a reservation, but on the days that I had free there were no spots open. To draw a long tale short I had to wait until I was retired; to a time when I could take an open date no matter when it fell. Thus, last month I called and asked about any cancellations and found two dates open in August.

I ended up taking the first open date even though Carole and I would be camping for four days in the same Park the previous week. We would be coming home, and I would be returning to the Park for my hike to the top of LeConte two days later. So it goes. I no longer live by much of a schedule. I make the plans and don't need to worry about job responsibilities.

For this trip I chose to go up via a trail called The Boulevard. At about 8.4 miles it's longer than the others I had used, but I had been told it was a lot easier than the three with which I was familiar. This proved to be a load of crap, as it is harder than any of the other three. For my money, the best way up is still Alum Cave Trail. You climb more, but the distance is a brief five miles, and the scenery is superior to any of the four routes I've taken.

But I made it up. The hike took me about five and a half hours since I stopped to eat breakfast on the trail (protein bars and water). I also paused many times to take photographs, as I always do when I go hiking. The first part of the hike is 2.7 miles on the Appalachian Trail with a climb from 5300 feet at Newfound Gap to 6,000 feet near the top of Mount Kephart. From there I faced a series of moderate ups and downs, losing and gaining elevation in what the hiking community refer to as "pointless ups and downs". At last, I approached more open territory with very rugged terrain and a steep climb of eight hundred vertical feet to the top of the mountain, then a drop of about two hundred feet to the lodge.

By the time I strolled up to the buildings I was quite tired and sweaty. I checked into my lodge room and soon discovered that my stay would be everything that I hoped it would be. I was pleased. I quickly retrieved a metal bucket to take water to my room and use a wash basin to take a sponge bath. Clean and refreshed, the first thing I did was crawl into my very comfortable bed and rest for about fifteen minutes. After that I took a stroll through the grounds taking photos, then went back to my lodge where I met a young couple from Detroit who were staying there for two nights.

Later I took a walk up to Cliff Tops but the views were obscured by passing clouds so there were no landscape photography opportunities. At 2 o'clock they opened the dining hall for various drinks and I had a couple of cups of lemonade. I then just sat on the covered porch in a rocking chair and enjoyed the passing clouds, some of them enveloping the lodge with fingers of white mist. Temperatures hovered around 64 all that afternoon, into the night, and were the same on the following morning.

Because of Covid the dining hall was closed except for brief trips in to get beverages, and then only masked. So the crew brings dinner and breakfast to your lodge room for the duration. The evening meal was roast beef, green beans, mashed potatoes, baked apples, cornbread, cake, and I had opted for three glasses of wine. I had plenty to eat and turned down offers of seconds when the staff made another pass.

Every other time I have backpacked into the Park backcountry I have had to sleep in a shelter or a tent, using a sleeping bag and hanging my food from a convenient tree to keep it safe from bears and other marauding critters. But that night I slept in a log lodge in a bedroom with a propane heater, on an extremely comfortable mattress between cottons sheets and under two wool blankets with a pair of soft pillows under my head. I slept deeply.

The following morning I rose, shaved, brushed my teeth, deposited the gray water behind the lodge and got ready for breakfast. They opened the dining hall and I retrieved several cups of coffee and soon had a great breakfast delivered: pancakes with sorghum syrup, grits, scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, and a biscuit with plenty of apple butter. I ate it all and chased it with another cup of coffee. After that I got my pack ready as a rainstorm rolled in (the peak gets 85 inches of rainfall per year). I chose to wait a few minutes to see if the rainclouds would pass over, and they did. As the sun was revealed again I hoisted my pack and took a reluctant leave of LeConte Lodge. 

The hike down wasn't as difficult as the trudge up and I knocked it out in three and a half hours by making no stops at all and pausing only to take a few photos. I had wanted a two-night stay, and the next time I go I will be there for two nights. Because I will go back again. It's rare for an experience to be exactly what you hoped for. Any place like that is worth return trips.

I arrive at the cutoff to The Boulevard.

The Boulevard where the trail had to have cable hand rail installed after a landslide.

Almost there! 3/4 of a mile!

Looking down at the lodge where my room was located. Taken from the office deck.

The dining/living room and my bedroom just beyond.

 

My bedroom.

The dining hall.

The table and washstand in my bedroom with kerosene lamp.

Breakfast, delivered to my room at 8:00 am.

The trail through the high elevation rain forest back to Newfound Gap.

Early August Trip to Smokemont Campground, Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Well, I'm retired so I can pretty much head off and take a trip any time I want to. Carole, however, is only semi-retired. She already took her 401k and pension (both of which she invests), but won't be eligible for Social Security for about 15 months or so. Therefore, she wants to keep working until 62.

This past week we headed over to the Great Smoky Mountains for a three-night camping trip. We opted to stay at the Smokemont Campground which we'd never used. Generally we utilize the Elkmont Campground on the other side of the Park. While the trails and scenery and more spectacular there, the traffic can be monstrous beyond description due to that area's proximity to the semi-urban hellholes known as Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. Our last long stay at Elkmont was made difficult because of the bumper-to-bumper traffic bleeding into the Park from Gatlinburg.

Not wishing to face that kind of headache again, we opted for the Cherokee side of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park which is subject to less traffic. As it turned out, we made a good choice. The campground is much nicer than we had anticipated. Also, the three  big elk herds that have developed since the repatriation of the species to the parklands have concentrated themselves in enclaves between Cataloochee Valley (where the first animals were released) and the rest of a triangle created by the Qualla Reservation, and Balsam Mountain Campground where it borders the Blue Ridge Parkway.

The herd numbers 240-250 animals currently, and the three main herds are each about 50 to 60 elk with smaller populations interspersed throughout this general area. So if you want to see the elk, the best places to camp or visit are Cataloochee Valley and Campground, Balsam Mountain Campground (the highest campground in the Park), or Smokemont Campground near Oconaluftee where the absolute largest herd congregates regularly. In fact, it's a rare day that a visit to Oconaluftee in the afternoon will not net you at least a peek of at least a few of the giant deer in the later afternoon.

While we were staying at Smokemont we did some hiking, and took some drives to nearby towns. As usual, we cooked most of our meals, but did try a couple of restaurants by driving outside the campground to Bryson City (about nine miles away).

For some reason, despite the fact that the Great Smoky Mountains National Park has more bears than ever (at least 1500 black bears now make their homes there), I have gone about three years without seeing so much as a fleeting shadow of one. We were really hoping to be able to take some photos of a bear, but no such opportunity presented itself. A ranger told us that one did come through the campground while we were not at our campsite. So it goes.

We're thinking of heading back to the Park in October for a trip to see the Fall colors. We did that in 2019 and caught them at their peak, which was a first for me. Before that I would get there either too early or too late to see full Fall splendor. But we're also thinking of flying up to New England before Christmas, so that may be what we end up doing instead of pulling the trailer to Cherokee.

As always, we'll have to wait to see what happens.

Part of the herd of 60 elk that showed up at the Oconaluftee Historic Site the day we arrived.

This young bull was stoically enduring a heavy rain at Balsam Mountain Campground.

The only time I've seen a calf nursing in the Park.

Mona Lisa smile.

My son and I photographed this same cow in June of 2020 when we drove up to spend two days in the Park. I recognized her from the scars on her abdomen.

"Peek-a-boo!"