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Flynn, wondering what I was up to & why I'd lead him off the beaten track! When we're in the woods, he mostly prefers sticking to the paths - Flynn doesn't much like risking his paws going through scratchy, spiky undergrowth. I'd already caused consternation earlier in the walk, by changing my mind about where I wanted to walk & leaving the "proper" woodland track, to take a short-cut down to the orchards. Flynn had followed me but he clearly wasn't impressed!

It's been a very dull, cloudy & rainy week here - not particularly good for photos! I'd headed to the apple orchards because the light was at least a little better but even there, the scene was rather muted, grey & bleak (especially as the farmer is in the process of removing old trees atm, leaving large bare patches of earth behind). Then I spotted a nice splash of autumnal colour - a big area of bracken, close to boundary between "wild" woods & the farmland.

Flynn made me laugh - he gave me such a look of utter disbelief & disgust, when I turned off the path *again*! I called him to follow after me but after a quick inspection, he decided my route was stupid & ran off in a huge arc. When he reappeared, he was in front of me & actually stopped roughly where I'd wanted him to go... so that was handy :) He was happy, or at least tolerated sitting amongst the bracken for a photo (in return for a small treat!) but clearly relieved when I turned back to walk on the lovely soft grassy path around the orchards soon afterwards!

him

JAGO: “Oh hullo there! We didn’t see you there.”

ORSON: “Indeed Jago, we didn’t! You were very quiet, crouching there and peering through Daddy’s front white picket fence.”

DAISY-MAUD: “We were just taking tea.”

ORSON: “It’s such a lovely day, we didn’t want to take tea in the parlour.”

JAGO: “So we decided to have it outside, here in the garden instead.”

DAISY-MAUD: “Would you care to join us? We always have room for friends. There is plenty of hot tea in the pot.”

The theme for "Smile on Saturday" for the 21st of October is "behind the fence", where you have to take a photograph of a fence and something behind it. I am not quite sure whether this will cut the mustard for this theme or not, so I have a second version if it doesn’t. The white out-of-focus bars to either end of the photograph are pickets in my front garden’s white picket fence. Often, if you should happen to pass my house and peer through the pickets on the fence, you will find my bears playing hide-and-seek, celebrating birthday parties, enjoying picnics, or as we find Daisy-Maud, her brother Jago, and friend Orson, taking tea. I hope you like my choice of this week’s theme, and that it makes you smile.

Jago was a gift from a dear friend in England. He is made of English mohair with suede paw pads and glass eyes. He is a gentle bear, kind and patient who carries an air of calm about him. He is already fitting in with everyone else very nicely.

Daisy Maud is Jago's little sister and was made by the same friend in England who made him. She is made of German mohair with floral fabric cotton paw pads that match her pretty sunhat, and glass eyes. A sweet and loving little girl bear, she is happy to be reunited with her big brother, Jago, and enjoys being spoiled by her new Daddy.

Orson, named after the little bear constellation, was made by the same friend who made Jago and Daisy-Maud. He comes ready dressed in 'trousers' made of German mohair accessorised with embroidered braces. His paws are ultra suede and his eyes are glass. He is described as being a little bit serious minded but very friendly. He's fine once he gets to know you.

This beautiful nursery rhyme tea set was made in England by the Shell China Company in the 1930s. It features six cups, saucers and plates as well as a teapot, milk jug and sugar bowl. Each piece is gilt edged and decorated and feature different nursery rhymes including: "Ding Dong Dell Pussy’s in the Well", "The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe", "Old King Cole", "Pat a Cake Pat a Cake Baker’s Man", "Little Tommy Tittlemouse", "See Saw Margery Daw" and &This Little Pig Went to Market" amongst others. The set I acquired from England, and it is a sister set to a 1920s Shell China Company nursery rhyme tea set and a 1920s faerie tale tea set. There are also doll (bear) sized tea spoons which are sterling silver salt spoons, and the spoon in the "Little Tommy Tittlemouse" sugar bowl is an Eighteenth Century mustard spoon and is sterling silver.

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We challenged ourselves with a sunset time photo of these two

vienna, austria

both of us keeping social distancing rules intact during the lockdown period.

PADDY, SCOUT, and COUSIN PADDINGTON: "Now we eat them of course, Bogart!"

BOGART: "Oh! You were right Paddy and Scout! They are delicious and were well worth the wait!"

PADDY, SCOUT, BOGART and COUSIN PADDINGTON: "Yummy, yummy! Snuffle... snuffle... gulp." *Happy chomping and chewing noises and the licking of lips with cute little pink bear tongues.*

My Paddington Bear came to live with me in London when I was two years old (many, many years ago). He was hand made by my Great Aunt and he has a chocolate coloured felt hat, the brim of which had to be pinned up by a safety pin to stop it getting in his eyes. The collar of his Macintosh is made of the same felt. He wears wellington boots made from the same red leather used to make the toggles on his Macintosh.

He has travelled with me across the world and he and I have had many adventures together over the years. He is a very precious member of my small family.

Scout was a gift to Paddy from my friend. He is a Fair Trade Bear hand knitted in Africa. His name comes from the shop my friend found him in: Scout House. He tells me that life was very different where he came from, and Paddy is helping introduce him to many new experiences. Scout catches on quickly, and has proven to be a cheeky, but very lovable member of our closely knit family.

Travelling all the way from London, Cousin Paddington was caught in transit thanks to the Coronavirus pandemic, so it looks like he is stopping with us for a long while. That makes me happy, as the more I look into his happy, smiling face, the more attached I am becoming to him.

Bogart has only arrived in the last few months. He has travelled all the way from Georgia, via Alabama as a gift to me from a friend. I look forward to getting to know his character, but I can already say that he has lovely Southern manners and seems to be a fun and gentle soul with an inquisitive nature.

A Double Play...for Doubleday?

Hah, well if not for him...for me at least. To those that are even casual students of our National Pastime will know the name Abner Doubleday and the town of Cooperstown. The latter is a quaint upstate New York village beside Otsego Lake that is home of the Baseball Hall of fame. The former is the alleged inventor of the game of baseball in that very town in 1839, hence the choice to locate the hall of fame here in 1937. And while most historians believe the Mills Commision's assertions about Doubleday and Cooperstown are nothing but fiction, the legend still sticks here.

But to railfans there is more than just baseball in Cooperstown. The Cooperstown & Charlotte Valley operates a heritage railroad and museum along the historic line of the same name first opened in 1869. The original road came under D&H ownership in 1903 and was operated as branch of that Class 1 for 67 years. The branch was sold to the Delaware Otsego Corp in 1970 and freight trains continued to operate into the mid 1980s along with excursion trains. The last freight ran in 1987 and the line was completely moribund until being sold to the Leatherstocking Chapter of the NRHS in 1996. Incidentally, despite selling the branch the Delaware Otsego Corp (parent company of the NYS&W) retained ownership of the passenger depot in Cooperstown where they still maintain their corporate headquarters despite having no rail operations in town.

Despite having been in existence as a tourist railroad for more than two decades I'd never visited the operation. But in a twist of good fortune I made a totally unplanned trip to Binghamton chasing an NS train on the old D&H the day prior to this photo. While out that evening with an old railroader/railfan friend he told me that the CACV just happened to be celebrating the 150th anniversary of the opening of their railroad the very next day.

Based out of the small town of Milford south of Cooperstown they had a full weekend of special events and extra trains. The highlight of the event was the first steam locomotive to traverse these rails since the 1970s and included a bit of rare mileage almost into downtown Cooperstown.

Viscose Company #6 is an 0-4-0 saddle tank loco built by Baldwin in 1924. Originally assigned to the American Viscose Company plant in Roanoke, VA she was sold for scrap in the early 1960s. Never cut up she languished for decades in the yard of Gem City Iron & Metal Company in Pulaski, VA. Purchased by Scott Symans of Dunkirk, NY in 2004 and restored over the next three years she now travels by truck to shortlines and tourist railroads all over the country that do not have steam locomotives of their own.

She weighs 60,000 lbs and has a 17,360 lb tractive effort.

Here she is just starting to pull south from her photo op at the Cooperstown village welcome sign just north of here at Chestnut St. / Route 28 crossing.. This little bit is rare mileage as the normal northern limits of CACV operations is the runaround track a half mile south of this point and this crossing is clearly out of service and marked exempt.

So there you have it...a double hit of rare mileage and rare steam...and all totally unplanned!

Cooperstown, New York

Saturday July 13, 2019

A pair of Mallards, Happy Mothers day to all the special mums.

Thanks for any comments.

Copyright Gav Jones 2013

My King, My Love, My EVERYTHING. ~{6-28-13}~

This red-figure squat lekythos (oil bottle) depicts a scene with the queen of the gods, Hera, suckling the baby Herakles. Hera wears a stephane (tiara) ornamented with palmettes, earrings, a necklace, a long-girt sleeved chiton, and an embroidered himation (cloak) with a meander border pulled up over her head in a veil. She holds a long scepter ending in a lotus flower. The suckling Herakles is represented as a nude youth with bracelets, shoulder belt, and a stack of anklets running up his legs. On the right of the scene is winged Iris - Greek goddess of rainbows and a messenger of the gods, Hera in particular - who wears bracelets, a necklace, and a short-girt chiton with a cross-belt. She also wears endromides - a type of boot that reaches mid-tibia - with white studs, leaving the toes and heels bare, and carries a knotty staff in her left hand. On the very far right, mostly hidden in this photograph, is a seated Alcmena (Alkmene), wearing an embroidered opisthosphendone (a band of fabric used to support the hair behind the head), jewelry, long-girt chiton fastened with fibulae at the shoulders, and a bordered himation. She holds up a wreath. Standing to the left of Hera is a surprisingly non-armored Athena, wearing a long-sleeved chiton and diploidion fastened at her shoulders. Her aegis - a protective cloak with the image of a gorgon - hangs from her left arm as she holds out a flower for Hera. Aphrodite and Eros are on the far left, out of this photo.

Hera suckled baby Heracles (Hercules) because Zeus tricking her into it, often while she was asleep, so he could gain divine power from her milk, which also explained the creation of the Milky Way when she pushed him away in pain from his strong suckling; this act symbolically legitimized Heracles as a son of Zeus and granted him godlike abilities, despite Hera's usual hatred for the illegitimate child.

Greek, made in Apulia, ca 365-350 BCE. Attributed to the Suckling Painter (this is his name vessel). Found in Anzi, Potenza, Italy.

British Museum, London (1846,0925.13)

I'm showing my age. Godrevy, Cornwall.

Him and his tongue. He's such a goof.

I look down at the man dressed in red for a few moments, allowing him to process what M'gann has just told him. Ever since her encounter with Mr Moth all those weeks ago, I've been attempting to build her confidence by encouraging her to tackle low-time criminals.

So far, it would've appeared to work a charm.

Breaking my train of thought, I lower myself out of the air, phase through the bank doors and then take my place next to M'gann.

M'gann nods; the man in red stood watching with a gormless expression spreading across his face.

"Get back! I'll kill you both!"

He raises his weapon, and I am suddenly reminded of the fact that if he was to squeeze the trigger, I would be rendered powerless and my defeat would be simple.

If only he knew.

"I mean it! I'll do it!"

Calling his bluff, I walk forwards to his trembling wreck of an arm and pause.

The man jolts.

"Wha...what did you call me?"

"Michael Miller. That is your name, is it not?"

His mouth begins to move out of time with his mind, then his trembling arm finally gives way and he lets out a meek whine.

"How do you-"

Miller suitably distracted, I lunge forwards and grasp his crude flame-thrower, and in one efficient movement, I bring the weapon upwards and out of his shaking hands. He attempts what some might call a punch, but one quick kick in his shin soon puts his assault to bed, and Miller to the ground.

I examine the crude weapon at hand, then hook my fingers under a pressure gauge on the side and tear it off. The thrower makes a hissing sound as some gas escapes, then I detach the piping from the gun and throw it to the ground.

"No dammit!"

Miller squirms on the ground, but stops when the bank doors slam open and various officers from the DPD march in. I look up as I walk around Miller, now on his knees, and position myself to talk to the officers.

They lower their weapons in turn with Miller raising his hand to his face, which now appears to be a brighter shade of red than his flattering outfit.

"Martian Manhunter. Thank god."

The officer steps forwards and looks down at Miller.

"Is that...Michael Miller?"

I nod. The officer turns to one of her colleges stood in the doorway, gun still trained on Miller.

"Call dispatch. Let them know we've got the situation under control."

The man nods as he makes his way to the police car, then the officer's hand goes to a pair of handcuffs hooked around her belt. A though flashes through my mind for a moment, the thought of my younger (and somewhat reckless) version of myself back on Mars. I then think of M'gann; how we met, and how I would act if it were her currently relieving herself in a trembling mess at my feet.

The officer steps forwards and I bring my hand up.

She pauses.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your handcuffs. They will not required."

A look of uncertainty flashes across her face.

"And why not?"

I look down to Miller.

"No one was harmed. He didn't even leave here with any money, and, may I remind you, we are in a bank."

"Weather or not he left with any money does not matter, sir. This is currently being treated as a hostage situation-"

I gesture to a group of adolescents all with their mobile devices out.

The officer sighs.

"May I ask why you're standing up for this man? I, we, were all under the impression that your sort of people stood up for justice?"

I consider the officer's point for a moment, but another look down at the trembling wreck of a man that is Michael Miller reminds me of my cause.

The officer turns to her college, and in turn I look to M'gann, stood tending to an inquisitive man in the doorway. The officer turns back to me and sighs.

"Alright, let's say for one minute that he is innocent. What's to stop him from attacking again if we let him go?"

I nod.

Michael fidgets on the ground, but keeps his eyes down.

"His is still in possession of an offensive weapon."

"He was in possession of an offensive weapon. Currently he is in possession of a heap of rather inoffensive metal."

The officer once again sighs, then turns to her college. She whispers something in his ear, and after a few moments, she looks back to me and sighs.

"Alright."

She kneels down to Michael and begins to talk to him.

"Right then Mister Miller, it would appear today is your lucky day. Now god knows why, but thanks to your Martian friend here, we've decided to let you go, under the condition that you will be under a strict curfew for at least eighteen months."

Michael stirs, but I calm him with a hand on his shoulder. The officer stands.

"You're going to have to come with us to go through the details of your curfew, but after that, you're free to go."

She picks Miller up and leads him outside.

"I suggest you thank your lucky stars you've got the Martian Manhunter here. He's turned the end of your free life, into a life of staying indoors after nine o'clock."

The officers, Miller in tow, exit the bank and head for the police car. The woman opens the back passenger door, then turns round and says one last thing to me.

"Why?"

I pause.

German postcard, no. 708. Steve Reeves' surname is misspelled as Reves

Handsome, musclebound Steve Reeves (1926-2000) was an American bodybuilder and actor, who was a huge success in Hercules (1958) and other Peplum films, the Italian sword-and-sandal epics. At the peak of his career, around 1960, he was reputedly the highest-paid actor in Europe.

Stephen L. Reeves was born on a cattle ranch in the small town of Glasgow, Montana, in 1926. At the age of six months, he won his first fitness title as Healthiest Baby of Valley County. When Steve was 10, his father, Lester Dell Reeves, died in a farming accident. With his mother Goldie Reeves, Steve moved to California. In high school in Oakland Reeves began to work out regularly with weights, and he eventually came to the attention of Ed Yarick, who ran a bodybuilding gym. After graduating from high school, he enlisted in the Army and served in the Philippines during World War II and in Japan afterward. After his military service, at the age of 20, he won Mr. Pacific Coast (1946) in Oregon, which led to his titles of Mr. Western America (1947), Mr. America (1947), Mr. World (1948), and, ultimately, Mr. Universe (1950). The very night after he won the Mr. Universe title, he announced his retirement from the bodybuilding competition at the age of 25. With all the body-worshipping publicity he garnered, Reeves had become interested in pursuing an acting career. He moved to New York and studied acting under Stella Adler but after arguments, was refunded his tuition. He was selected by Cecil B. DeMille for the lead role of Samson in the biblical costumer Samson and Delilah (1949) after Burt Lancaster proved unavailable. In order to look convincing on-camera, he was told to lose 15 pounds as the camera added weight. He would not be able to compete in bodybuilding with the diminished weight., so he turned the movie offer down. The part instead went to Victor Mature. In 1949 Steve did film a Tarzan-type television pilot called Kimbar of the Jungle. He was one of the Olympic Team members not interested in the charms of Jane Russell in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Howard Hawks, 1953). In 1954 he had a small role in the musical Athena (Richard Thorpe, 1954) playing Jane Powell's boyfriend. The same year Reeves had a small role as a detective in Ed Wood’s attempt to make a serious Film Noir, Jail Bait (Edward D. Wood Jr., 1954). On TV, Reeves guest-starred on The Ray Bolger Show (1954) and The George Burns and Gracie Allen Show (1957). These roles were mostly posing bits or walk-ons. To Hollywood, Reeves was just a body. But then his fortunes turned.

Italian film director Pietro Francisci’daughter saw Steve Reeves in Athena (1954) and Francisi invited him to come to Cinecitta, the Roman film studios. In 1957, Reeves went to Italy and played the lead character in Le fatiche di Ercole/Hercules (Pietro Francisci, 1958), opposite gorgeous Sylva Koscina. Hercules was a relatively low-budget epic based loosely on the tales of Jason and the Argonauts, though inserting Hercules into the lead role. Gary Brumburgh at IMDb: “Though he did not possess a Herculean acting talent by any stretch, handsome bodybuilder Steve Reeves certainly had an enviable Herculean physique, and made plenty good use of it in Europe.” Independent film producer Joseph E. Levine took a big chance and bought the rights to the film's American release. He added a soundtrack dubbed in English and after a major US advertising campaign on television and in the newspapers, Hercules became one of the surprise hits of 1959. Reeves became ‘overnight’ a star. The film’s international success quickly led to the sequel Ercole e la regina di Lidia/Hercules Unchained (Pietro Francisci, 1959), again with Sylva Koscina. Hercules Unchained made even more money and became one of the year's biggest grossing films. Although he is now best known for his portrayal of Hercules, Reeves played the character only twice. Next, he played 19th-century Tatar hero Hadji Murad in Agi Murad il diavolo bianco/White Warrior (Riccardo Freda, 1959) with Giorgia Moll. This was followed by his role as Goliath (in Italy Emiliano) in Il terrore dei barbari/Goliath and the Barbarians (Carlo Campogalliani, 1959) with Chelo Alonso. While filming Gli ultimi giorni di Pompei/The Last Days of Pompeii (Mario Bonnard, Sergio Leone (uncredited), 1959), the chariot Reeves was driving struck a tree and he dislocated his shoulder. This put an end to his more intense exercise routines and caused problems in the following years.

By 1960, Steve Reeves was ranked as the number-one, box-office draw in twenty-five countries around the world. From then on through 1964, Reeves went on to appear in a string of Peplum (sword & sandal films) shot on relatively small budgets, He played a number of characters on-screen, including Welsh pirate and self-proclaimed governor of Jamaica, Captain Henry Morgan in Morgan il pirata/Morgan the Pirate (André De Toth, Primo Zeglio, 1960), Karim, the fabled Thief of Baghdad in Il ladro di Bagdad/The Thief of Baghdad (Arthur Lubin, Bruno Vailati, 1961), and Randus, the son of Spartacus in Il figlio di Spartacus/The Slave: The Son of Spartacus (Sergio Corbucci, 1962). He also played Romulus, the legendary founder of Rome in Romolo e Remo/Duel of the Titans (Sergio Corbucci, 1961) opposite Gordon Scott as his twin brother Remus. Reeves reportedly turned down two roles that became international sensations. He was offered the role of James Bond by Cubby Broccoli in Dr. No (1962) but refused it because of the low salary the producer offered. Reeves also turned down the role of ‘The Man with No name’ that finally went to Clint Eastwood in A Fistful of Dollars (Sergio Leone, 1964) because he could not believe that "Italians could make a western". He played Aeneas of Troy in La leggenda di Enea/The Avenger (Giorgio Venturini, 1962) and twice he played Emilio Salgari's Malaysian hero, Sandokan in Sandokan, la tigre di Mompracem/Sandokan the Great (Umberto Lenzi, 1963) with Geneviève Grad, and I pirati della Malesia/The Pirates of Malaysia (Umberto Lenzi, 1964) with Jacqueline Sassard as the romantic interest. Reeves’ injury of The Last Days of Pompeii, would be aggravated by his stunt work in each successive film, ultimately leading to his retirement from film making. In 1968 he appeared in his final film, Vivo per la tua morte/I Live For Your Death!/A Long Ride From Hell (Camillo Bazzoni,1968), a Spaghetti Western he co-wrote. His first wife had been Sandra Smith (1955-1956). In 1963, he married Aline Czarzawicz and the couple moved in 1969 to Valley Center, California, northeast of San Diego. He had bought a ranch there with savings from his film career. The next two decades Reeves bred horses and promoted drug-free bodybuilding, and stayed with Aline, until her death in 1989. In 1994, Reeves and business partner George Helmer started the Steve Reeves International Society, which became through its Internet site, a leading proponent of drug-free bodybuilding. In 1996, it incorporated to become Steve Reeves International Inc. Reeves also wrote the book Powerwalking, and two self-published books, Building the Classic Physique - The Natural Way, and Dynamic Muscle Building. His last screen appearance was in 2000 when he appeared as himself in the made-for-television A&E Biography: Arnold Schwarzenegger — Flex Appeal. In 2000, Reeves died in a hospital in Escondido, California, from a blood clot after having surgery two days earlier. He passed away on the very day that Ridley Scott's Gladiator (2000) premiered, the first sword-and-sandal epic to be produced by Hollywood in many years. Steve Reeves was 74.

Sources: Gary Brumburgh (IMDb), Rick Lyman (The New York Times), Wikipedia, and IMDb.

Fortunately the Hike Inn had power after the tornados hit, Nancy Hoch said, if she didn’t have power she wouldn’t have been able to accommodate me there.

Her husband Jeff was out of town. Sadly, I would have loved to talk with him about his extraordinary first people collection of arrowheads and spear tip points and other Native artifacts. They had no internet there and all I could do was upload my photos and videos to my laptop from my camera. The processing of a video to my laptop takes a while; I just splice the segments together in chronological order, that’s it. No editing. I shoot; I talk and try to keep it interesting, and speak correctly about all the facts and science in my head.

I have no script to follow. I just shoot from the hip, sort of speaking.

It was sunny and warm, enabling me to dry out all my gear. After resupplying in Robbinsville I was given a ride back to the Fontana Dam Marina. My next resupply point was over 100 miles away, past the Smokey Mountains to Hot Springs North Carolina, where I mailed my laptop to the Bluff Mountain Outfitter. This will be my longest leg of my journey so far. If I get jammed-up, there are points along the way I can stop, like Gatlinburg Tennessee.

The Fontana Lodge had a restaurant, so at the dam I called for a pickup to have one last good meal, while I still smelled nice, then off to the Smokey Mountains.

I hiked to Birch Spring Gap, the only tent site with no shelter in the Smokey’s.

In the great Smokey mountain National Park you can‘t setup a tent anywhere you want to, and I knew I would have to start sleeping in the crowded shelters soon, so I stopped at Birch Spring to be alone after my resupply. The Appalachian Trail in the Smokey Mountains is very heavily visited, so to reduce the impact on the natural surroundings, it’s pretty mandatory, that you stay in the shelters.

Birch Spring was a beautiful camp site, the best water I ever had came from the Smokey’s, and this spot was no exception. I carried the SteriPEN….Adventure to purify my water, I highly recommend it. But to tell you the truth, when the water from a spring came right out of the side of a mountain, I just drank it. Up from the blue blaze trail they had a hitching post for horses; the Smokey’s is the only place where people with horses share the Appalachian Trail. Many hikers have mixed feelings about sharing the trail with them. I do not. . I love horses so much; they have such a beautiful power. I love to touch them and hold them in my arms and really feel them.

That night I heard my first bear in the middle of the night going down the hill very close to my tent, it was big and noisy, obviously not very worried about being heard.

My plan was to hike to Spence Field Shelter for the night, I was excited to camp up on a grassy bald and take in some grand views. I fell short of my goals many times during my hike, but I wasn’t going to let that get me down, I just want to go with the flow of the cosmos, wherever it lead me was fine too.

It took me longer than I expected to hike through the Smokey’s, the shelter weren’t spaced right for my speed. I found much later, when I could hike much faster, that I didn’t like to go faster than 16 miles a day. The reason was, when I went faster than that I noticed, I would’nt take many photos, shoot many videos, I just wasn’t observing nature like I wanted to.

Up the trail just before Mollies Ridge Shelter I ran into some guys that said Mollies Ridge was dry, and I should take water down a side trail, that was poorly marked and I did just that. Coming up on Mollies Ridge Shelter it started to get real dark again, I could hear the thunder for the last two hours and although it was early for a lunch I thought, I would eat and wait the incoming storm that will be here at any moment. I went around to the front of the shelter to see someone’s gear, an old mid 1980’s Jan-sport external frame backpack and in the lower left corner a sleeping bag opened.

I called out and with no reply I went back to the side where the built-in table was, to have lunch and then came the rain. After a light snack I propped my pack up and laid down against it for some rest. After a short while and the rain was coming down, I could feel something, like someone was watching me, my hair rose up on my neck.

I looked over my left shoulder at a guy, wearing a ski-mask, was coming up behind me with one hand behind his back. Swiftly I jumped up and cut him off with the angle of the table. Instinctively my left hand went into my pocket, holding my knife with my thumb on the bolt that would quickly open my blade. If he would have came up with a weapon behind his back I would have cut his throat and he would have bleed-out dead before his corpse hit the ground.

Kitea, off to the side in the brush, was watching the whole thing go down from the very start. She saw him sneaking up on his blind side, with her body stretched out and on the tips of her paws, her tail straight and the tip whipping with fast short strokes back and forth ready to pounce. „What is this crazy bastard doing with a ski-mask in this heat?“

She felt much better, when Puma saw him and jumped for cover, with the posture of his hand in his pocket she assumed he had a weapon, and said „I got your back, big boy…“

His senses are very in-tuned she said, he has developed his 6th sense very well, very intuitive, it must have been all that Marine Corps training, he is so hot…. A Natural Borne Killer….

I remember several nights ago, when I was sleeping next to his tent, he talked to me in his sleep. He said, “I make the sound of the deer well, I grunt softly and they come to me...I’m a killer and I feel my prey like a ghost walking among them…”

The guy held out his other hand and in it was a very old leather glove, cheaply made, worn out and only one. He was saying something….. „wouwoouwo“… with his ski- mask it was hard to understand him and I said to him with a loud voice….. “I cant hear a damn word you are saying…. WITH YOUR SKI-MASK ON”…

Then he said it again….. it was something like…… he found this glove and was it mine. His speech was distorted and I could tell he had mental health issues….

Still crazy or not he had his other hand hidden behind his back and I’m on guard…

I told him one more time I cant hear him with his ski-mask on. It is not my glove and I don’t care, and for him to go away from me, I lunged at him just to give him a bit of a scare and yelled …..GO…OOOOOO ……

My heart was pounding, and I said to myself as soon as the rain lets up I’m so freaking out of here. Two days later I ran into a work party at Derrick Knob Shelter and a young man in charge had a radio and called it in, two days after that, I ran into a Ridge runner, and he said, they went up and got him out and that he was removed a few weeks before that too. They had to counsel with lawyers, to find out what to do with a homeless person, living in the shelters.

The rain let up and I was gone, but that was just the first band of the storm. The events, that occurred after that, were incredible, this will be the third biggest storm I was in during my hike, it sure was a season for storms and tornados. The winds, heavy rain, hail and thunder once again, unbelievable. Trees were being uprooted, snapping into and falling everywhere. I had to step off trail, the water ran down the trail like a river and I shot a video of it for my youtube channel.

When I got to the Russell Field Shelter, it was still early, two men from Atlanta Georgia where settling down there for the day. They were out for the weekend and this will be their last night out. We talked for a while, they were very nice, I like them very much so. They loved to hear my stories of my hike, the storms, the crazy’s…. hikers where coming by from the north, talking about the guy with the ski-mask, they had heard from other hikers north bound, I thought it was funny, the hikers, that told me about the water, never mentioned him.

The traffic south bound talked about a backpacking guide from REI, that would tell all the hikers, that stayed in “Her Shelter” for the night up the trail what to do, where to cook, where to sleep and where to hang there packs, she was even giving my dear sweet friend Susan a hard time about where she can cook. Susan argued with her, that she came from Springer Mountain, and that she has been backpacking for many years, and she will not tell her what to do. It hurt me to hear such things, its always about power and control, humans trying to force their will on others.

She was some kind of “Hiker Nazi”, cutting all the dangly bits of rope that people hung their packs on, really, they were in every shelter, I have seen during my entire hike. I wanted to hike on, it was still early and I could have made it to Spence Field Shelter like I had planned. The news was, that the REI guide was there with her party and my new friends begged me to stay with them. Why put yourself through the stress of having her around me like that. Relax here with us, we love to hear your stories…. Oh yes, I was a story teller my whole life, since childhood I could spin a good yarn….. it’s a gift.

Although it was probably a good call, I did stay, but I had no idea that it was a Saturday and the shelter was filling up fast. I took a spot on the upper left side with my back to the wall.

That night I woke up, packed close with so many people. I couldn’t breathe, I was having a panic attack. I sat up for a bit and then went for a walk. It always took me some time to put weight on my feet when I first get up, my feet where chronically sore the whole time I was on trail, and I had to move my feet a bit every morning so I could walk, hiker hobble they call it.

I’m sure the people, that were awake, when I had my episode during the night, were shocked; I knew I would have trouble sleeping in the packed shelters here in the Smokey’s.

The next day I was up and out early, said my goodbyes to my new friends, who were going down to their car and back home. They gave me some of their extra food, some fancy backpacking meals. I hiked to Derrick Knob Shelter, where a group of volunteers were camped, doing trail maintenance.

I tell you, if they didn’t maintain the trail like they do, nature would claim it back in a year or two, that’s it….

It was fun sitting with all the young people, talking about Religion and Politics, two of my favorite subjects. There was a photo-journalist there writing a story about trail maintenance.

It was love at first sight…… he was in the Navy and loved to call me Jar-head, affectionately of course…… and I referred to him as Squidly…….

They all stayed in their tents and with the weekend over it wasn’t too crowded.

I loved their youthful energy, they had a fire going all the time, cutting and splitting wood, gave me a chance to dry my boots or make them not as wet. Most of the kids were taking a break from their studies in the universities. The young women were quite attractive and it was fun watching them all jockeying for position, guided by their hormones running wild.

In the evening we sat around the fire and talked, I’m sure it was me, that started the conversation about religion and politics and how closely they are related. It’s all about power and control, I said.

Separatism is the major flaw in human development, we are so busy discounting everyone’s believes, that we are missing the big picture. Religion has killed more people than all the plagues; I think religion caused some of the plagues. Then the social class system of the rich and poor, money is the cause of all evil the in world. We should do away with it, its all a big lie anyway. Our monetary system is flawed by corruption; they have juggled the numbers for so long, it was just a matter of time when it would all come crashing down like a house of cards. We went back and forth through the night in interesting debate.

Before the emergence of the big three monotheistic religions Judaism, Islam and Christianity, there was no “Gender Assignment” for a god, in fact men and women were equally represented with gods and goddesses and a balance of power was achieved, men and women were equal.

What if, way after the death of Jesus and Christianity became legal and rose to power in Europe, with The Church” in their struggle for power made an allegiance with the monarchy to control and rule over the people. What a head trip to say “ you better be good for goodness sake” or you will spend eternity burning in hell. Anyone, who has ever had a bad burn, knows, its an endless pain to be burned, many hours and days even after the burn it still feels like your burning. What a brilliant physiological torture to impose on the masses to keep them in line.

What if, they could cut half of the population right out, by making women second class citizens with no say so what so ever. If Eve, beguiled by the serpent, went against god and ate from the tree of wisdom, ruining mans great life in paradise, then she was maid to serve man as a punishment. It sounds like a lie to enslave half of the population.

Who ever said, god was a he anyway, I bet it was a man. I bet a man wrote the book of genesis too, just that in itself needs to be addressed, the serpent was a pagan goddess deity, how coincidental is that. I think, if Jesus was alive in the here and now, he would be very upset how his good work has been tarnished for the sake of power and control.

Women have been victimized and still are all over the world in places like China, Japan, Africa.

In China they have a astrological calander and the Chinese Zodiac here women born under the sign “Fire horse Women“ In Japan it’s called Hinoeuma

Fire Horse women are called dangerous, headstrong, and are seen as deadly to men. This may sound quaint to western ears, but the 1906 Japanese women were subjected to poverty and starvation because they could not marry. According to the Chinese Zodiac, girls who were born in the year of the horse were said to be stubborn and short tempered.

Fire Horses are seen as outgoing, people-loving, ambitious, rebellious, and independent. They are supposedly freedom-loving and impossible to contain.

While ambition and independence are prized as ingredients for success nowadays, they were never seen as ideal female qualities. The proper woman was seen as submissive, quiet, and dependent, not rebellious and strong. This prejudice against fire horse women kept the 1906 women wracked by poverty in Japan, since no one would risk marrying a woman with these qualities. Now over 90 years old, many of the surviving hinoeuma women are poor and homeless.

Out spoken women in Europe were taken care of by saying they were witches in league with the devil and simply murdered in the name of Christ. Thousands of women were hiked this way, in the New World too.

It wasn’t long ago, when women couldn’t vote in this great country. Women in Europe and in America around the middle to late 1800’s started to protest, woman like writer and poet Renee Vivien from Paris France will always be rememberd as one of the “First Wave Feminist” and many others too,

Separatism….. we have to stop the insanity of this odious behavior, inherent in all of us, if we wish to evolve into better human beings, after all we are from the same “Human Family”

We have lived in tyranny long enough and people will rise up around the world and say we will not take this anymore.

Everyone stood and cheered, I love young people, they are willing to see things in a different light not afraid of change, unlike us old folks, well that’s a different story. The passion of my thoughts exhausted me and I said good night.

Kitea, thinking of all that was said, lay in the woods, unable to sleep all night. She said, his great burden never was about his pack weight, it’s what’s in his head. He sees the world as one, united in a common good for the entire world to share equally. The end of separatism and equality for all…..how great life could be for all…

Feeling quite well and rested, my boots and socks were the driest they have been in a few days I hit the trail. Silers Bald was covered in fog, hiking the trail reminded of being in a rain forest all morning the fog and mist would rise to the heavens, in the afternoon it would come down again as rain everyday after day….

As I got close to the highest peak on the Appalachian Trail Clingmans Dome, I got lost again. The trail got tight along a ridge, then widened but started to go down, it didn’t feel right but I followed for a little bit then turned around. I went back to where a sign was and saw a white blaze up on a rock cliff, it was a bit of a scramble then the trail leveled out on a beautiful ridge. I loved to hike the ridges, you could see very well where you were going… you could see for miles and miles, it truly my favorite hiking. The bad part was, if you were up on a ridge when a storm came in the lightning was very dangerous

You were so exposed; I was caught up on a ridge twice and hiked very fast to drop down for shelter. The trail got tricky close to the Dome and I slowed not to miss the trail.

Getting low on water but not wanting to go off trail to the Dome I pressed on not sure where I would find water. It was getting quite late when I arrived at the Mt. Collins Shelter and water. Two guys both named Dave and heading in opposite directions had a fire going when I approached the shelter. The north bound Dave and I talked a bit in the morning; I had hiked 13 miles the day before, climbed the highest peak on the AT and was so tired when I made it to camp the night before. Every night my feet were so sore and I was so tired, having to setup camp and make supper, gathering wet wood for my Zip-stove I took my time in the mornings enjoying my coffee rested and could really relax and take it all in.

South bound Dave was up a gone early, while north bound Dave was on his final day.

He was getting off trail at Newfound Gap heading down to Gatlinburg and home to Florida his journey ended. We hiked together for a bit, the smells in the conifer forest were incredible, very sweet and spicy like cinnamon, gorgeous and the shades of green with all the moss covered rocks and fallen trees were on of my fondest memories.

Dave talked about the town below and I decided to go down to Gatlinburg for pizza and cheeseburgers.

Kitea following closely as she always had since she found Puma thought what a great opportunity she had to go home and see her Grandmother Capote. Puma didn’t plan to stop in Gatlinburg and it wasn’t a thought for her but now she was excited to talk to grandmother about him and read the smoke and her dreams.

Newfound Gap was right in-between Gatlinburg and Cherokee town and Reservation.

She figured it’s only 30 miles away, Puma will probably stay for two days, she could catch-up with him on the trail by picking up his scent.

When I got close to the Gap I could hear the traffic first, then I got to the road and could see it was an overlook across the road. Tired, wet, hungry for a proper meal, I smelt like a wild animal I thought as I crossed the highway to the parking lot full of people. They had all pulled over to rest and take photos of the mountain views. When some people saw me coming I was swarmed by them, like I was some kind of celebrity or something. A man came up to me by the restrooms asking about my hike, then asked if we could pray.

I said sure, I love all good people and respect everyone’s right to worship in there own way. He asked Jesus to watch over me, protect me while on my journey as we held hands

and tears fell from my eyes it was so beautiful. A man asked if I would like some granola bars I said sure. People came up to me so curious and full of love, wanting to have their photo taken with me.

Four beautifully stout southern black women came up to me in their Sunday dresses and hats with very colorful flower prints. They just dazzled me, they were so beautiful and smelt so nice, touching me, hugging me and kissing me on my cheeks. I went to apologized, for I smelt so badly, one of the women whispered in my ear you don’t smell so bad. I did change my shirt to my camp shirt to get ready to hitch hike a ride to town.

Their husbands where taking photos of the spectacle or I think one was making a video,

when one of the women asked if she could go and hike with me. I said to her,

baby I will cook for you every night……. If you will carry my backpack.

Her husband looked away from the viewfinder of his camera and at me winking and smiling at me, it was truly a beautiful experience. Newfound Gap was like a melting pot of tourist, it was like the whole world was being represented.

Even the bikers, both the men and the women looked my way in appreciation.

Bikers and I are very similar in a way, we are a bit standoffish, loners and rebels, if you ever met me in person I have a look

about me that is somewhat threatening and somewhat loving, people can feel me and I can feel them without ever saying a word….it’s a gift

Perhaps because I’m so sensitive….

Or maybe when I was electrocuted by 5,000 volts at work one day…

Or when I was shot….

Or when I was stabbed…..

Or when I was bitten by a rattlesnake as a child…..

Or maybe when I was struck by lightning….

I feel much differently since I was hit by lightning, it scrambled my brain

Sometimes things get so mixed-up in my head and random thoughts

bounce around like electrons, neutrons and protons in a pattern like a spider web

all connecting, yet random like the cosmos.

Whatever it is……

People can feel me when I write too…..

I write with my soul…..

Stranger #15 - Staszek - I met him in the centre of Wroclaw, Poland. He seemed quite busy yet he agreed to have his photo taken when I explained the project. I quickly shot four frames and was positive that at least one will be good. A short but very nice encounter :)

This picture is #15 in my 100 strangers project. Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the 100 Strangers Flickr Group page

Follow me on Facebook, Twitter and 500px.

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Or maybe as Jim Croce says, we just need to call him SIR!

And he’s bad, bad Leroy Brown

The baddest gator in the whole damned town

Badder that old King Kong

Meaner than a junkyard dog.

A bit of a play on words there with me inserting gator in instead of man in the lyrics. And that’s the way the song describes Leroy Brown, but Jack would fit that description as well even if he lives in Houston instead of Chicago. Jack hasn’t been taking it easy as we can see evidence of a lot of scuffing on his nose. That nose should be gray instead varying shades of tan which means that Jack has had more than his share of scuffles. He was taking up most of the mud flats with his presence and holding his ground. This is 13+ feet of madness and mayhem. Photo taken on Horsepen Bayou.

I’ve included the song by Jim Croce if anyone cares to listen to it.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=JzYf6qskdfA

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