Where I Grew Up

One unique aspect of growing up in Northeast Tennessee is that you live among the mountains. You see them when you wake, drive by them every day, and hopefully spend some time hiking among them when you can. They become a part of the everyday scenery of life and when you live with them long enough, life just isn’t the same without them. Out of every mountain that makes up the Smokey Mountain Range, one of my personal favorites is Roan Mountain.

Right on the Tennessee - North Carolina state line sits Carvers Gap, a little gap in Roan mountain from which cars can drive from TN and NC but which also hosts a group of hiking trails.  From there, you can head on up the mountain or do what I have always enjoyed, hike up the one of the many “balds”. Whenever one thinks of a mountain, you imagine either trees or ice and snow on top. The interesting part about this group of mountains though is that once you get on top, all you can see is grass. It is a odd sight to be honest; to see a whole mountain top just covered with grass. Once on top you gasp because you realize “wow, you can see EVERYTHING up here!”

Ever since I can remember, hiking up to the top of the first bald, Round Bald, is one of the most relaxing things I can think of. There is something to be said about walking up to the top of a mountain covered with grass and having a 360 degree view of the surrounding mountains and towns. I remember going up there with my dad and brother and camping out under the stars. Laying down after getting to the top and then squirming around until to find just the right spot in the high grass. (It is definitely high grass considering no one mows the grass on top of a mountain) We would watch as the wind blew around the high grass but it was a good feeling when we realized we were each protected by the grass fortresses around us. At different times, we would eat, sleep, talk, and hike more if we still had tons of energy.

Over the years I have gone back to Roan Mountain over 50 times now. No matter what the season is, who else is there, or even who I am with, it is always has the same effect. I realized a few years ago that no matter what other outdoor adventures I embark on, the thought of Roan Mountain always put a smile on my face. It is a place that no matter how the world changes, it is always there, ready, waiting for the next adventurer to feel its serenity. It is a place I will definitely take my wife and kids one day and when my kids look up at me and ask “Dad, what is this place?” My reply will be “where I grew up”.

The Joys of a Sunburnt Face

Every summer up until I was sixteen, my mother and brother and I would drive down to St. Simons Island, Georgia to see my grandfather. For at least a week or two, we would go crabbing, swim in the ocean, take our daily walks of the pier, and even search between the large rocks on the shore for hermit crab or a small pocket of water teaming with life. However, being of a fair complexion would be an understatement for my brother Ben and I. When we were smaller, no matter where we went or how many days we spent in the sun, we were the whitest kids around. For the first couple days of summer, we would always be burnt to a crisp no matter how much sunblock we wore. Therefore, we would lie in bed and watch TV all day while our sunburns healed because as soon as they did, you know we would be out the door back scurrying among the rocks once again. So as we became teenagers, we began to discuss things we would do on our "days off". We would look after my grandpa's faithful dog Bandit, go to the shooting range, read books, or our favorite, go hang out at the local surf shop on the island. Regardless of what we got into and even got ourselves out of, we always managed to carry a sunburn during the first few days of summer vacation.

Skip ten years ahead and I have been sitting in my room all day reviewing the lectures of Dr. Pettus and Dr. McCann. I wouldn't call this the ideal Sunday afternoon but considering I am a medical school student, it does come with the territory. Even as I sit and read about the risks and prognosis of a myocardial infarction, my mind continues to drift off the yesterday and all of the activities and events therein. Once again I am sunburnt, not because I was hunting for hermit crabs with Ben, but because I spent the day touring Grenada with a group of friends and family.

At 9:15 in the morning nine of us left on a Grenadian adventure to tour the island. As we bumped along the uneven roads, we became comfortable, settled in, and the level of chatter quickly rose to a roar. Given there was nine of us, this was still considered normal but given Stephanie's parents and brother had come along, it was nice to know that right away we could become our talkative hyper selves.

Our first stop consisted was the Seven Sisters Waterfalls. I am unsure why it is named this way considering we only saw two waterfalls but I came to the resolution this name would remain a mystery for now. I was more focused on the waterfalls and everyone experiencing them and relaxing after our 45 minute hike. Some of the rather pleasant experiences included: watching Daniel persevere through the muddy jungle trail even though he had badly sprained his ankle about a week prior, watching Saj gain more confidence as she navigated throughout the steep and muddy jungle trail, and seeing Mary's passion for photography in action. A pleasant surprise came when I discovered that Steph's father had one of the best laughs I have heard in a while. After hearing 5 seconds of Mr. Taormina laugh, you couldn't help but put a smile on your face. So even as our waterfall portion came to close, I had already realized that each person of our small group would bring something to the table to make the day more fun.

So on we went; to beaches, the old airport (where the US Military landed in 1981) and through many sprawling towns on the north side of the island. We stopped off at a beach where I remembered to lather about as much suntan lotion as can physically cover a person. From there we swam and ate and drank and even left with some homemade barbeque chicken in our hands. A surprising funny occasion happened when Stephanie was completing maintenance on her contacts when her mother gave her a quick suggestion. To her surprise, it alleviated whatever was the problem. To MY surprise, her mother replied in childish voice with a slight Japanese accent "Thank you Mommy!" to which Stephanie returned the phrase in an equally as child-like voice then returned to the ocean with everyone else.

Upon leaving beach we once all loaded into the taxi/bus driven by our faithful driver Paul and continued our journey. As we rounded and swerved around the roads of Grenada, I submitted myself to the front seat considering my old enemy carsickness had once again come back into my life. After I had gotten my inner ear back under control I managed to enjoy viewing Grenada from Paul's perspective. From an old plane shot down 30 years ago to many towns each with their own flavor, I was enjoying the view with Paul's occasional commentary.

However, one of the best realizations of the trip came we were coming down the highway along the east side of the island. The sun was bright but we had lucked out considering the highway was between the ocean and the rocks and vegetation of Grenada. At one point the sky became clear, the ocean became calm, and I felt like I could see the sun's reflection for miles. I felt the warm sun on top of my forearm and face and realized for the first time that I was sunburnt. As I sat there in the front seat, with the group calming in the back and the warm breeze blowing against my face, a smile came across my face once again. I was sunburnt. Granted, I would never enjoy the pain a sunburn brought, but it made me think once again of everything I had done and achieved that day to earn this sunburn. It would hurt for a few days then my arm would become white again, but I could once again be grateful for an amazing day with friends and family and of all of the joys a sunburn could bring.