Sundown
Wolf Mountain Overlook, Milepost 424.8 of the Blue Ridge Parkway. When the conditions of earth and sky come together just right, the wild beauty of this deep view is undeniable. Low clouds and a pass between mountains funnel sunlight directly into the scene here.
Wolves once thrived here… hence the name of the mountain. Supposedly, they were hunted to extinction by 1910, mostly by farmers with sheep and cattle. There’s also a determination that there are no big cats anywhere in North Carolina, especially by park officials here in the mountains. I’ve witnessed things, even here at this overlook, that has me wondering about such determinations.
Once, while going through IFR training with my ex-Air Force flight instructor, I discovered how such things relate to life overall. I’m ex-Air Force, too, the connotation being that we understand that humor and truth can be one and the same. I was going through a litany of his questions with both verbal and physical responses, and was doing well, when he hit me with this: “Let’s say you’re flying at night over unfamiliar territory and your engine just quits. What do you do? My thought was “eject!” What came out of my mouth was, “Trim the aircraft for best rate of glide and attempt restart.” He said, “Good answer, though your engine’s wrecked… no restart. What do you do?” His next words were sage advice: "If your engine’s kaput while you're flying at night, remember these two things: first, trim the aircraft for the best rate of glide and when you reach 500 feet AGL (above ground level), switch your landing lights on. Second, if you like what you see, leave them on." Remember that.
After attending the graduation of a friend at the Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary commencement in Charlotte in 2012, I made a beeline straight for Black Balsam Knob, not far from this overlook. I made it just in time for a wonderful sunset. I just had to make the most of it... which pretty much guarantees a hike back in the dark from here. The problem was that I was dressed for graduation, not hiking, with hard sole shoes not for going up this place, much less down. This was 2012 and I had a flip phone that provided no light. I know this trail, however, and what to expect. I'm traipsing down the trail in darkness back at the tree line when what sounded like wolves started howling nearby, and I mean a bunch of them at differing levels. Coyotes tend to be solitary and their howl, which I hear quite often here in Durham, was nothing like what I heard at that moment. Now, that may not mean much to you, but that was the first time I'd heard them in concert... and close too. I had seen what appeared to be a wolfpack one night many years back about 80 miles from this spot as they crossed in front of me on the Blue Ridge Parkway at twilight... but that was from the safety of my car. The first animal stopped and stared toward me until the others crossed into a rise and were gone. Here, I'm on my own out in the open, a with bunch of wolf-like critters in close proximity, howling to beat the band, with campers' dogs howling in sympathetic vibration in the distance. They continued for likely only a minute as I just stood there in awe... I thought it was wonderful, though I also thought it was a little eerie when they stopped howling all at once. Perhaps they had a choir director... the silence afterward was what was unnerving to me. As a rule, I now keep a small, yet quite powerful flashlight in my camera backpack along with spare charged batteries... but thinking back about what my instructor advised, I wasn't so sure I wanted to see what it would illuminate. And I lived to tell the tale! Don't you just love happy endings?
By the way, I read a wildlife review from a New Jersey researcher who concluded coyote-wolf hybrids exist, and they behave more like wolves. I’m just stating the behavior I observed was more wolflike. I also saw what no doubt was a cougar at Doughton Park. I informed her that I was happily married. Take that, park rangers… ha!
Sundown
Wolf Mountain Overlook, Milepost 424.8 of the Blue Ridge Parkway. When the conditions of earth and sky come together just right, the wild beauty of this deep view is undeniable. Low clouds and a pass between mountains funnel sunlight directly into the scene here.
Wolves once thrived here… hence the name of the mountain. Supposedly, they were hunted to extinction by 1910, mostly by farmers with sheep and cattle. There’s also a determination that there are no big cats anywhere in North Carolina, especially by park officials here in the mountains. I’ve witnessed things, even here at this overlook, that has me wondering about such determinations.
Once, while going through IFR training with my ex-Air Force flight instructor, I discovered how such things relate to life overall. I’m ex-Air Force, too, the connotation being that we understand that humor and truth can be one and the same. I was going through a litany of his questions with both verbal and physical responses, and was doing well, when he hit me with this: “Let’s say you’re flying at night over unfamiliar territory and your engine just quits. What do you do? My thought was “eject!” What came out of my mouth was, “Trim the aircraft for best rate of glide and attempt restart.” He said, “Good answer, though your engine’s wrecked… no restart. What do you do?” His next words were sage advice: "If your engine’s kaput while you're flying at night, remember these two things: first, trim the aircraft for the best rate of glide and when you reach 500 feet AGL (above ground level), switch your landing lights on. Second, if you like what you see, leave them on." Remember that.
After attending the graduation of a friend at the Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary commencement in Charlotte in 2012, I made a beeline straight for Black Balsam Knob, not far from this overlook. I made it just in time for a wonderful sunset. I just had to make the most of it... which pretty much guarantees a hike back in the dark from here. The problem was that I was dressed for graduation, not hiking, with hard sole shoes not for going up this place, much less down. This was 2012 and I had a flip phone that provided no light. I know this trail, however, and what to expect. I'm traipsing down the trail in darkness back at the tree line when what sounded like wolves started howling nearby, and I mean a bunch of them at differing levels. Coyotes tend to be solitary and their howl, which I hear quite often here in Durham, was nothing like what I heard at that moment. Now, that may not mean much to you, but that was the first time I'd heard them in concert... and close too. I had seen what appeared to be a wolfpack one night many years back about 80 miles from this spot as they crossed in front of me on the Blue Ridge Parkway at twilight... but that was from the safety of my car. The first animal stopped and stared toward me until the others crossed into a rise and were gone. Here, I'm on my own out in the open, a with bunch of wolf-like critters in close proximity, howling to beat the band, with campers' dogs howling in sympathetic vibration in the distance. They continued for likely only a minute as I just stood there in awe... I thought it was wonderful, though I also thought it was a little eerie when they stopped howling all at once. Perhaps they had a choir director... the silence afterward was what was unnerving to me. As a rule, I now keep a small, yet quite powerful flashlight in my camera backpack along with spare charged batteries... but thinking back about what my instructor advised, I wasn't so sure I wanted to see what it would illuminate. And I lived to tell the tale! Don't you just love happy endings?
By the way, I read a wildlife review from a New Jersey researcher who concluded coyote-wolf hybrids exist, and they behave more like wolves. I’m just stating the behavior I observed was more wolflike. I also saw what no doubt was a cougar at Doughton Park. I informed her that I was happily married. Take that, park rangers… ha!