I realized that the purpose of it all, the purpose of coming to the wilderness is just to be.
Walking up the road alongside Straight Fork, I kept looking into the pools for trout. Big Cove road was lined with pickup trucks, the fishermen were all donning their hip waiters and I figured there would be plenty of folks in the park. I was thinking of my dad. This today is his birthday and I wondered if he would have been among those out here putting together his fly rod. I thought of his passion for fishing and how he really wanted to pass that along to me; a regret I live with. He’s been gone now for a few years. The date of his passing is not marked in my memory but the moment of my brother and I releasing his ashes in the Tuckasegee River is as fresh as if it happened yesterday. I feel him nearby whenever I walk along mountain rivers.
I pulled off onto Straight Fork Road and drove by the fish hatchery, which is just outside the Smokies but I got to the gate and it was closed. I almost didn’t come in the first place. The weather wasn’t going to be great and that particular trailhead was a long way from Knoxville. I come to the wilderness in part, to relieve stress but it often returns on the drive home when I encounter traffic. I sat there in the road and considered the options. I could head back to Cherokee and eat a great breakfast at Peters, then hike around Oconaluftee. It would be an easy day. But I did come all this far and felt a nudge to enter the park on foot. I got out my map and found where I was. It looked like it was about 2 miles from the gate to the trailhead, which would add 4 miles to my planned hike of 10.4 miles. But, it was level and it followed Straight Fork the whole way in. So I parked the truck and headed up the river, trying to see trout in the pools and eddies, wondering if Dad had ever fished here.
The temperature was in the mid thirties as I headed up Hyatt Ridge Trail to Enloe Creek Trail, my objective for the day. The hike was fairly steep, reflected by my heart rate that increased to the point of being audible in my head. There was some anticipation building. I had a memory of a nice waterfall somewhere in the park that I had not yet seen on this 900 miler map, and with the number of un-hiked trails diminishing, I began to wonder if Enloe Creek was it. A small clearing near the trail erupted in chaos as 4 wild hog sows were startled, along with about a dozen piglets who scattered in all directions. As soon as I crested the ridge at the intersection with Enloe Creek Trail, I could hear the chorus of water music a mile below where I was. I headed down. The mile-long descent ended with three quick switchbacks in front of an old steel truss foot bridge over Raven Fork, the very place that occupied my memory. Campsite #47 is situated on the far end of the bridge on a shelf amidst the boulders that create the mighty rapids here on Raven Fork. I wanted to spend some time here but I elected to continue, knowing that on this out-and-back hike I would return in a couple hours.
The trail started ascending as it now followed Enloe Creek, which flows into Raven Fork just downstream from where I crossed the bridge. As I continued on the moderate climb, I enjoyed constant views of the creek through the trees noting the rapids and several small waterfalls along the way. The trail turned to the right around a bend when I caught a glimpse of a really nice waterfall through the winter woods. In that moment, I was hit with an overwhelming sense of presence and a feeling of such strong emotion. It happened suddenly and without any particular profound thoughts leading up to it. A conversation took place in my mind that I felt in my soul:
"Is that you?" I thought. "It is I AM" came the answer. "Is this real?" "It is real to me, as it should be real to you. Let's hike together today, you and I."
As the moment extended, I came in and out of the awareness of a million thoughts racing through my head and then into moments of such profound emotion I was weeping as I continued to walk. One cannot measure these moments in human time and I don’t know exactly how long it lasted, but this is what I know to be true – the presence of the Creator was real. There was clarity in perspective and awareness of my place within the Creation, in both time and space. Although I received answers to some of my questions, that really was not the point of it all because the questions seemed to matter very little in that moment. I realized that the purpose of it all, the purpose of coming to the wilderness is just to be. To be in the presence of I AM. To be free of human derived distractions. To be free of the complexities of religious rules and law. To be free. Just… to be.
“In Eden, nothing could be distinguished as a spiritual experience or closeness to God, because God was always completely available.”
Susan Power Bratton from “Christianity, Wilderness, and Wildlife; The Original Desert Solitaire” p.29
Although there is more to come, I pause for a bit of reflection on this sacred moment. I am reminded of a point made by Susan Power Bratton in Christianity, Wilderness, and Wildlife: The Original Desert Solitaire, “In Eden, nothing could be distinguished as a spiritual experience or closeness to God, because God was always completely available.” Complete presence and availability is an apt description of how this experience unfolded in the day. Although there was no burning bush, no messenger, no audible voice, I took comfort in the thought that God spoke to David through the heart. And what a conversation it was…
To be still, to cherish, to be grateful…
Copyright 2019 Shawn A. Carson
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