Meditation.

When I go hiking and backpacking I am usually slow. Very. Freaking. Slow. On many hikes I will average about one mile per hour.

This is because of two things that have nothing to do with whether or not I am out of shape. One reason for my slow pace is that I like to take lots of photos. On a day-long hike I might take three hundred to five hundred photos. A blessing upon us from the digital camera gods. I love digital cameras and have pretty much figured that they are one of the finest benefits of the computer age.

The other reason I move so slowly is that I stop very darned often to meditate. As soon as I see something that I feel is beautiful or noteworthy or peaceful, I will halt in my tracks and contemplate it. Some people refer to this type of thing as "Zen" or "meditation" or "transcendence" or something of that type. It's not a religious experience for me, so I prefer to think of it as, and refer to it as, simple meditation.

It's probably the main reason that I go out into the wilds to find solitude.

One of my pals likes to visit Yellowstone National Park where he will plop himself down in Hayden Valley just to watch the bison for hour after hour. He finds it soothing, peaceful, restful. Similarly I can find such feelings in almost any wild, quiet spot where I go to separate myself from the drone of modern society and its never-ending swell of machine blather.

And so...here are a few images of things that stopped me in my tracks. Call it zen. Transcendence. Meditation. I don't care what term you use.

Moments of thoughtful peace.

A testament to a struggle of life in a hard place.

A dab of alien color amidst the chlorophyll mass.

A path, bordered by native grass, two thousand meters high.

Mother Nature unfurls her flags of green.

I lived, I died, my corpse lingers.

Escape the cities. Venture out. Sit and listen. Watch.

Morons I Have Seen

I once saw a clueless tourist walk up to a bull bison in Yellowstone. The bison was lying down in the dust. Massive, one-ton beast. The tourist walked up to the furry critter and leaned back against the bison's spine so that his equally stupid wife could snap a photo.

Unfortunately, the bison took it all in stride and did not squash the two morons into paste. But it could have (and probably should have) been otherwise.

Bull bison. I took this from a great distance. Keep your distance, people.

I once saw an idiot tourist in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park walk up to a bear and begin to toss it slices of bread, one slice at a time. After a few tosses the bear realized the freaking moron had a whole bag of bread and was just doling it out like a greedy asshole. So the bear charged. To, you know, get the whole bag. The moron tourist had his tiny toddler daughter beside him. When the bear charged he ran. Just left his tiny girl there, alone. Fortunately for them all, he dropped the bag of bread and so the bear veered aside at the last possible second and did not trample the toddler. (It had no interest at all in the girl, only the bag of bread.)

Black bear I encountered while hiking in Douthat State Park in Virginia. I took this from a great distance as the fleeing bear turned to make sure I wasn't following him. Keep your distance, people.

A few years back I hiked into the Shining Rock Wilderness Area. It was on a Saturday so that wilderness was packed to the gills with humans, many of them having set up tents. This wilderness does not allow fires (signs posted at all trailheads), and being a wilderness, all plants and trees are protected. As I hiked along the air was filled with firesmoke. Every campsite had a campfire. In addition, I saw people with axes chopping not just dead, dry timber, but actively felling living trees. I even saw some of these scumbags chopping down living rhododendron.

There are few things less likely to burn in your campfire than the wood of a living rhododendron. Don't cut them down.

We don't have anywhere near enough rangers (a classic case of politicians trying to starve our parks and wilderness areas into extinction); but I also cannot imagine being a National Park ranger and having to put up with so many idiots.

One Trip, Three Campgrounds.

We ended up staying at three different campgrounds on our latest road trip to Florida. Heading right down from Charlotte, we drove straight on to the Suwannee River State Park in the northern part of the state, pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. The park was quiet with some nice scenery and excellent access to the Suwannee River. We have nothing but good things to say about any of the parks and the campgrounds that we used.

After about a week at Suwanee River SP, we headed westward and slightly north toward the Florida/Georgia border where we got a spot at Three Rivers State Park. This one is on the shores of the man-made Lake Seminole, which is an attractive body of water full of fish, waterfowl, and big alligators. It has so many alligators that they don't allow swimming. Again, the camping experience was flawless and our hats are off to the park and its employees.

After a few days there we packed up and headed toward Middle George where we got a spot at Indian Springs State Park. I had spent many a day there as a kid when my parents would take me, and staying there brought back some good memories. Again, this park is well maintained and quite beautiful and has extremely nice amenities with some interesting historical aspects.

Two days there and we finally had to load up and zip on back to Charlotte, NC and home.

All three state parks and their campgrounds come highly recommended. Suwannee River State Park. Three Rivers State Park. And Indian Springs State Park.

Our campsite at Suwannee River State Park. The site was relatively level. We did see a few sites in the park that are not level and which should likely be avoided. The sites here have full hookups, including sewer. It's so nice not to have to use the dump station when you pack up to leave.

Nicely landscaped campground. The bathhouse is located at the front of the campground and includes sinks, flush toilets, hot showers, and laundry.

Breakfast with our sometimes camping friends, Bobby and Sharon Childers.

Our campsite at Three Rivers State Park. Very level campsite. Water and electric hookups. No sewer hookup, but a nice dump station that was really easy to use.

The dam that forms Lake Seminole on which Three Rivers State Park is located.

Bull gator not far from our campsite at Three Rivers. This is one reason you can't go swimming in Lake Seminole.

This is our campsite at Indian Springs State Park. Again, a nice, level site. Gravel surface with landscaping timbers. Water and electric hookup, plus cable TV service. Wooden patio and a very nice picnic table. The bathhouse was located just across from our campsite and had sinks, flush toilets, hot showers, and a laundry.

The rocky shoals at the entrance to Indian Springs State Park.

Indian Springs State Park and the nearby High Falls State Park.

North Florida Indian Mounds

Carole and I love to visit sites that relate to American history. We always have a blast learning about America's past. We especially enjoy archaeological sites and parks.

Northern Florida has a number of Native American mound complexes. Many of these were obliterated over the years by European farmers and developers who used the mounds as fill material to use in construction or drainage projects. There is quite actually no telling what kind of history and artifacts we lost when mounds were removed to make room for fields or foundations.

Two mound complexes that are still at least partially present are the ones in the Letchworth-Love Mounds Archaeological State Park and the Lake Jackson Mounds Archaeological State Park. We decided to see both of those in the same day because they're in the same general region.

First we headed over to the Letchworth complex. It contains the highest temple mound in Florida, topping out at almost fifty feet tall. When you consider that these structures were built using only hoes and the earth transported in baskets, it must have taken a great deal of time to bring them up. We arrived to find that we had this isolated rural park all to ourselves. The entire time we were there we saw no one else. There are some information kiosks there explaining the history of the people who made the mounds and filling in details about what we know of their culture.

You can't actually climb to the top of the Letchworth temple mound, but there is a fine boardwalk and viewing platform at the base that offers a good look.

From there, we headed over to Tallahassee to find the Lake Jackson Mound Complex. Thank goodness for GPS. In no time we located the park. Again, we arrived to find it empty of visitors. There was one guy working who we assumed was the groundskeeper. And that he was, working busily to clear brush. But he was also obviously the park ranger who filled me in on the history of the Lake Jackson site. At one time there were many more mounds there, but most of them were destroyed by farmers and builders who wanted the earth to use in fields and foundations. You have to wonder what they destroyed in uprooting the work of the people who were there before them.

A few days later we would be visiting the Ocmulgee Mound Complex in Georgia which dwarfs both of these sites, but I still recommend that you see these two complexes if you are at all interested in American history and specifically Native American history and culture.

Me for scale. The tallest Native American temple mound in Florida.

Representation of the mound under construction.

The walkways leading to the temple mound at Letchworth.

The lesser temple mound at the Lake Jackson complex.

It looks like you could just walk across the field to the larger mound. However, flooding had caused a creek in the middle of the field to overflow. I had to find a narrow place to pick my way across.

Once I found a way across, I climbed the stairs to the top.

Video tour of the mounds. Carole and I do enjoy our vacations together.

A Nine-Day Camping Trip to Florida.

I logged another long video of various places we camped and hiked and canoed on a nine-day trip to Florida in 2008. We do not go to the places most tourists visit in Florida. We stay away from the crowded beaches and the amusement parks and the larger cities and towns. We prefer the Florida wild country. And, believe it or not, Florida has a tremendous amount of wild and rural land.

Nine days camping, hiking, canoeing.

Kayaking a spring run.

Boat ride from a mainland state park to an island state park.

A  native Floridian along a spring-fed river.

I've Got a Big List

There are so many great parks and wilderness areas to visit, I am always stunned when I run into folk who complain that there's nothing to see or do in their area. For it's a rare place indeed that doesn't have something notable to offer from Mother Nature.

Over the past few years my wife and I have begun compiling a list of the parks and National Forest sites we want to visit when retirement offers us enough leisure time for such exploration. The list actually began to become somewhat ridiculous and so we stopped adding to it, because the USA and Canada have so damned many great spots to visit that trying to make a list of the need-to-see places became unbearably difficult.

So, we decided to just let the Internet do the listing for us, and we'll explore as we see fit when the time comes.

A while back I made a point of bookmarking every state park system on the Internet. Some states have amazing state park systems (California, West Virginia, Florida, etc.). And some states have pathetic state park systems (Georgia, North Carolina, Montana, etc.). I haven't figured out why some states suck at having nice parks and others are masters at it. In some instances it's a case of historical accident (the CCC was quite active in West Virginia and they've had to live with that happy occurrence), and other states work their asses off establishing a wonderful array of parks (such as Florida). And some states that by all accounts for natural beauty should have wonderful state parks instead offer anemic numbers and sad, gray places (my own state of North Carolina is unfortunately among this lot).

Then there are our National Forests. Many of them have eye-popping areas where one can wander and explore and see things most people never will. I can credit the Internet for opening up the world of our National Forest campgrounds and scenic areas and wilderness areas. Without the Internet connecting all of the dots I would likely still be ignorant of many places on my bucket list.

Retirement beckons to me in just a few years. I am champing at the bit to be rid of that particular yoke so that we can hit the road and see what's around the bend. The next mountain. The far lake. The flowing river. The still waters.

The places are out there. Look for them. Enjoy them.

Rhododendron tunnel, Nantahala National Forest.

Southern Nantahala Wilderness Area.

Stone Mountain State Park, North Carolina.

Public library, Helvetia, West Virginia.

Oconee State Park, South Carolina.

Road to Cataloochee, Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Wild turkey flock, Sugarlands Visitor Center.

Campsite, Cataloochee Campground, Great Smoky Mountains.