The night before, I was so exhausted that I collapsed into bed without consideration for making a proper camp. And of course, a gopher visited me after I fell asleep and ran off with most of my breakfast.
So for breakfast, I ate almond butter straight and headed to visit the main attraction, Fall Creek Falls. I learned that the stand of Hemlock and Yellow Poplar trees in this area are the last virgin trees, the last old growth, East of the Mississippi. As I stared out at the 256 ft waterfall (for comparison, Multnomah Falls is about 620 ft), I tried to take that in.
I wept for a short bit, standing there all alone. As the west burns to the ground, this may be all that remains in the lower 48. I hope not.
I packed up and soared down the hills to an area known as the Gore for a swim.
Before heading out, I checked my map once more and thank goodness I did. I was headed the wrong way. After reorienting myself, it was clear that I had to bike up the steep hill that Zonda and Tim had transported me over yesterday. Argh. I took this to be a clear message from Spirit that there would be no cutting corners. I would need to traverse every hill, mountain, and stream. Message heard.
After departing the park, I passed an old mill and could see and hear the huge saw blade do its work. I wondered how long it had been there and how many trees it had decimated. I saw several patches of scars on the land not much different than the scars that we see in Oregon.
I passed over many hills and eventually made it to McMinnville where I asked a gas station attendant what she thought we should do to atone the removal. Her response was not a surprise, “Nothing. I didn’t do nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have to do anything to pay for someone else’s mistakes.” An older man named Melvin didn’t agree. And I enjoyed chatting with him until he decided to tell me that, “the L B G Q T, whatever community has got everyone all messed up. Ain’t no such thing as a gay cow or gay pig” he says. That was my cue. Time to move on.
I peddled on wondering where I would spend the night. There were no hotels between McMinnville and Murfreesboro, and I didn’t see any campsites listed on the map either. My remote crew seemed very concerned about this. But I didn’t.
Eventually, I stumbled upon a road side park just outside of Woodbury, TN with a nice grass patch far enough away from the road to keep the noise down. The fireflies once again greeted me as I rolled in. I smiled upon feeling the presence of my Nana through their lights. Memories of hot summer nights on the family farm in Pennsylvania flashed through my head. Such a treasure to have her near me now.
Atone The Removal 