The Restless Wild — The Restless Wild

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Appalachian Trail

The Idea of the Century

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The Idea of the Century

What do you think of when you hear the phrase "national park"? Maybe sweeping vistas of canyons, volcanoes, geysers and glaciers? Maybe mountains - bare and rocky or green and hazy - that rise and fall in reams and rows and out of sight? Maybe wildlife like bison or wolves or thick-horned, hardy ungulates? Maybe your favorite public playground, or a distant, inaccessible place? The national parks are indeed this, and so much more.

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Great Smoky Mountains: Trial and Error on the Trail

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Great Smoky Mountains: Trial and Error on the Trail

Gatlinburg was crazy. Imagine Disney World covered in camo, $6 parking and Ripley’s Believe It or Not. But my stomach was empty and my camera batteries were dead and I just wanted a quick recharge at a fast food place where I wouldn’t bother anyone or be bothered, so I ventured down from a long sunset at Clingmans Dome in Great Smoky Mountains National Park through the dark twisting mountain path into the bright lights of the valley. A gas station and big sign proclaiming “GATLINBURG: Gateway to the Smoky Mountains” bedazzled me when I emerged from the forest and it took me several minutes to get my wits together.

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An Unpleasant Walk in the Woods

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An Unpleasant Walk in the Woods

If there were a good reason why bestselling hiking memoirs don’t turn into great movies, it should be that in novels the protagonist’s internal transformation and growth is readily portrayed through narrative, while films struggle to show these internal changes. It should be that the protagonist’s venture out of their comfort zone and into the unknown and then back again as a transformed character is limited in how it is portrayed, either as changes in their actions or via subtle visual changes – a slow thinning of the waistline, tanner skin, scars and bruises from the rough road, and the powerful resolve and acuity visible in a face after hours on the hard trail. These should be the challenges – portraying the narrative without incessant, droning voice-over.

Should.

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Blood Mountain

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Blood Mountain

Traffic was awful. I had no idea that Labor Day weekend sees some of the busiest traffic of the year, but I had already committed to driving to Atlanta on Friday evening, so I gritted my teeth and pushed through the frustratingly slow drive. First there were delays leaving Chapel Hill, and then there were slowdowns along I-85 south in Greensboro and Charlotte, and inexplicable stop-and-go traffic along random stretches through South Carolina.

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