Loose Laces

Drove across Sam's Gap into North Carolina and on to Burnsville, Bakersville, and to the top of the Roan. The summit of Roan Mountain at more than 5000 ft. elevation was covered with spectators and a swift wind that was more than a little cold against bare arms and legs.

The day began in pursuit of apple butter, my favorite vegetable, but none was to be found at any roadside markets. Deciding not to waste the trip—for some strange reason I had my camera with me—we drove to Burnsville, which is the little town where Carolyn and I became entangled in wedded bliss many years ago after eloping. She was a child of seventeen soft summers, and I was a lad of nineteen tough winters when we became as one. We didn't tarry in the village this time however, but continued on toward Spruce Pine, turning to Bakersville, which nestles against the foot of the Roan.

The most beautiful leaf color I've seen this year is on the Carolina side of Roan Mt. Apparently every Flickrite in the area was there, hogging all the pull-off places, and pointing their lenses at the spectrum of glory that ran from vivid green to deep crimson. Not one photo was I able to make of that particular overpowering beauty.

Topping the Roan, we walked a bit on the Appalachian Trail, but altitude and the ring of fat around my belly soon took its toll on my wind. Pooped I was!

All-in-all, I managed to pursue and capture a smidgen of photos, but none displaying the true splendor of of my mountain home. For appreciation, this must be seen with the eye, not through the artificial and uncaring camera lens.