NATURE SCREEDS AND RANTS
"Almost constant airplane noise---it is truly hateful and almost ruins the wilderness experience. Americans have too much $$ to burn on air flight and constant car travel while it seems only a full blown winter blizzard can clear the skies of planes. Camping down on the noisy Slickrock creek will solve this problem."
THE FACE OF GOD
"Nature is the Great Teacher helping me to understand my ego. I knew this when I was 9 years old but I never could put it into words until now. I wonder if I'll ever see the face of God and yet here is the face of God in the things of nature no human has created. The question is, why then isn't it completely fulfilling? It may be because God is too simple and complete and final for us, instead we require complex reasonings and intricate knowledge as we categorize and name each creature and species while we obliterate each one in kind. Modern humans are the hubris of the world but for 100,000 years we saw God, we heard God speak to us in the wind and rain and rivers, we felt safe and secure and warm in God's natural embrace.
Of course, we lived with the human dilemmas of ritualized warfare, fear and disease, but we also lived with the wisdom of nature and kept the population small and in harmony with it's environment. What then happened?
Sometime in the past we thought we became God, we began to worship all things human and we began to worship our own creations: Electricity, cars and metal, weapon systems, religious and political systems, and we called this worship scientific progress. By this we could manipulate nature and abuse it to feed our love of self. End O' Sermon."
"THE JET SCREED
Air pollution kills. When cancer rates go up 200% will the white man then put it together? Does he not tire of having lost his silence? He just shrugs his shoulders and grunts "It's good for business." Oak Ridge or Watts Bar may implode killing thousands and he'll say "Invest your son for power." My exasperation will only lead to loss. To do something constructive about the problem involves fullout deconstruction, but there's the rub, all this pollution will destroy the culture and men that created it, so they themselves unwittingly become their own monkey wrench gang. The few Nader types are marginalized and given community awards as the one millioneth jet rolls off the assembly line.
Ted had it right, the love of technology is evil, the application of technology has destroyed my air and water, God's air and water, so the destroyers must therefore be agents of the devil and the killers of their children and of their yet unborn children. What culture and what kind of people would poison the world of their own progeny? At what cost comes greed?
The black haze surrounding the Smokies and the Citico and the Hangover is the white man's final legacy to the native Indians he wiped out to take such sacred land. He showed and shows his respect by giving billions of dollars to the developers and scientists and corporate lackeys while all around him his world is burning but it isn't his world at all, for how does he pray to this world to keep it balanced? The little newt prays because it has wisdom and for millions of years it lived on the earth in sacredness and so by doing this it took possession of this world.
The primitive Indians of every land also knew about balance as shown by their sheer cultural longevity. But these "other" men, these European men and others brainwashed to be like them, want to destroy the world and everything in it but God is Nature and Nature always wins out. For in the end, even the white man has been and will always be an animal of Nature. And oops, sorry about that, but the laws apply to you, too."
Cars and the outdoors are a paradox and a big problem but the forest officials call it multiuse accessibility or recreational opportunity of some such hogspit but it boils down to too many roads, too much pollution, too much noise, too much litter, too little exercise and too many people. The answer is simple: Close the roads. Gate 'em and lock 'em and use 'em for rescue, eventually the weeds will pop thru for the hikers and the cyclists.
The planes have been terrible up here tonight, sometimes 3 at a time. I hope it so pisses off an AT hiker that he goes home and rubs Buddha's belly in prayer to stop the jets. It is one of the 10 Essentials of Backpacking:
1) Buddha figurine to stop all noise pollution
2) Divorce papers(your wife sure won't join you)
3) A degree in forensic anthropolgy to find each person that litters
4) A road closing agreement with the U.S Senate
5) Lead weights for the ultralite types
6) Duct tape to make dayhikers spend the night.
How can Americans call it Independence Day is beyond me as they cavort over how childishly dependent they are on gasoline, electricity, telephones, computers, central air, public schools, money, sex, food, drugs, alcohol, nicotene, cars, television, violence and fear. I am in the same boat as the others and just as addicted. My cravings are for food, backpacking, electricity and now this damn computer. And Fear. I was raised to live in fear and I do it well.
THE NUTBUSTER: AN ALTERNATE DESCRIPTION
From section 6 on up you're on your own! Throw away your cell phone, burn your birth certificate, shred your money and have a free thumb available to suck on cuz Syphilization ended on the first switchback going into section 4. If you know how to close wounds with spiderwebs, how to make sandals from rhododendron leaves, how to eat nettles and grubs, and know when to fall on your knees and yell out "God Help Me!", you are ready for this trail.
If you feel you are ready to use yellow jacket venom as a hallucinogen, climb a vertical trail using root handholds, walk with jellified legs like a zombie, and curse the earth upon which you stand, then you are ready to tackle this trail. Why? Because people don't hang out on this trail, they are dealing with the job at hand and whether going up or down they are on a mission to finish it because it is wild and remote and there's no time to get moody, stand still or quit.
Section 6 is a sac splitting, nut nullifying, testicle testing, gonad grabbing, rectum reaming, perineum pounding, bung busting, penile punishing, spirit lifting, soul satisfying, heart healing, eye catching, foot loving, sweet medicine, White Buffalo Woman-meeting, Milarepa glimpsing, Nature-is-God obviously, God-is Nature convincing trail experience!
The wilderness is therefore my God and my baby child, beautiful and innocent and harmless and mighty and terrible and final. I have seen all such attributes in nature and upon my death I will have seen the last, finality. It is fitting.
Perhaps if in the past I stumbled into a rattlesnake den or got mauled by a black bear or struck by lightning or crushed by a tree, my whole natural religion would be shattered and I would be an oilman from Texas living in the White House hating all things natural, but these things have not happened so I sit free and happy.
Starting in about 2 minutes I need to blow out the candle and start conserving the 2 I have left for the remaining 7 days. Goodbye little brother. Mid October at 5,000 feet is very different than even 3,300 feet atop Tipi Ridge in Watauga County, NC. Here it means autumn business and says to strap down your headgear boys, tie up your medullas and cower like a mouse while you write your last letter home cuz the large turds are about to hit the big floor fan. Papa Nature's got a hard-on and he knows how to use it.
Get out of the woods while you have a chance or stay and be a man amongst men and by so doing become a friend to the Wild Woman who Made the Cold and who Rides the Wind. She is terribly beautiful and unlike the christian or muslim or jewish God you WILL see her because you are seeing her now and she is seeing you because you believe in the beauty of wilderness and she IS wilderness.
In summary, let go of your rosary and quit mumbling pie-in-the-sky chants and grab your walking stick and walk thru the cracked eggshell of human invention and ugliness and step into the real world of her loveliness called dark green firs against mouthwatering blue skies, high cold sleet and pounding waves of wind, winding trails going deeper and everywhere into Her Being, thick icy fog and wet creek crossings, brown grass meadows and rocky outcrops, cliffs and loud shouts, dank hot forests and stinging hornets, relaxing white rattlesnakes and courting copperheads, turtles underfoot and turtles afoot with large packs.
And by so doing quit your useless manmade religions and get hold of the oldest and the best. Look at the moon, look at the sun, look at the solar system, study the galaxy, ponder the universe. God loves wilderness and the wild woman of the wind and cold is God, too. End O' Screed.
Tomorrow is election day and I'm glad I'm as far away as possible from civilized man's masturbatory master plan to reappoint Big Brother. Kingmaking interests the self-appointed dullards whose idiocy is only overshadowed by their grave seriousness. To qualify as a modern man one must worship the detritus of a dead culture: Schools that force feed their brand of "approved" knowledge, television that is one long corporate ad, the fascist tyranny of capitalism which is destroying our green home for a dollar, fake religiosity and corporate organized religion, and finally the two-faced world of self-serving politics; these are some of the major lie-filled and nature-destroying smoke and mirrors which so captivates the dullards.
By staring into the glass of televisions and computers, every night becomes Crystalnacht for the air, the water, the trees, the turtles, and the indigenous people thruout the world, those primitive groups who seem to have the last bit of wisdom regarding a human's place on the planet. (Postscript: As I transcribe this I am staring into the screen of, yup, a computer, sob). End O' Screed.
Day 3 begins and our country has chosen another leader, I'll wager it's the same man as before, yawn how boring and tragic for the land. But I hope to be one of the few people of many millions not to know for 3 more days or maybe weeks. Like a hermit with no radio, like Jeremiah Johnson when told about another war and asking, "Who won?" Such a state of mind is to be applauded, it reflects aloofness and disdain, the yogi on the hill, the mountain man in the snow, the backpacker in the wilderness. Only infants and toddlers share my apathy but when told they still won't know who won, a place I can't get to now.
All I hear tonight is the water, there's no room for jets in this winsome valley. But I am wrong, a loud jet passes overhead, a school bus of infants in the nursery of noise, a problem of purpose in the pond of pollution, is there no one to stop them? We live in a society of weaklings cuz if someone wants a plane ride they get it, if someone wants a Lear jet they get it and it never seems to end.
SEE PAGE 2