Middle Prong of the Little Pigeon River

Some woodland pics from a few weeks back  and am I ever gathering a collection of them, dang the 256 mb compact flash card; you’d think it gives one a blessed reason to take four hundred pictures or so, but really it becomes a veiled distraction.

Wildflower season is mounting steadily in the lower elevations of the Smokies. Plenty of yellow trillium easing into view:

The Middle Prong of the Little Pigeon river is a true test of one’s rock-hopping skills. The river here runs an elevation gain of around 2200 feet for a four mile stretch of the Ramsay Cascades trail which is some distance off in the forest. Large sandstone boulders close off deep green pools of very icy water; your legs go numb quick when wading becomes the only option:

On this trip Chris was introduced to the adventurous and muscle-pulling challenge of fly fishing the remote backstreams of the Smoky Mountains. Almost as much climbing as fishing, but that’s the purity:

The weather on this day was warm’ very warm for mid-April; the kind of atmosphere that usually turns to booming thunder by waning afternoon. Not so this day.
Along these streams Cherokee medicine men used to listen carefully to the river trying to interpret its resonant sounds  a language, they considered it, of insight from the natural world attempting to reveal something special to humans. The river still speaks.