Dollywood Adventure

signs beside the River Rampage ride indicate a recent anniversary for Dollywood

My friend Bryson picks me up at my Knoxville hostel to go to Dollywood. He has a congenital heart condition, so he gets in at a discount all summer long. And he goes three or four times each summer.

I am initially skeptical that reality-heavy Dollywood will sustain my interest beyond a curiousity go.

Consider how most people read a biography once but return to a good novel over and over. With other theme parks, a reliance on fictional characters, iconography, and familiar mythology creates this type of respite. The burdens of paying the rent and baking bread for breakfast can wait.

Dolly Parton’s life story, however, is different. It encourages visitors to consider their daily lives as opportunities to be heroic.

(clockwise from upper left): Dolly is not hiding her involvement; each ticket has her name and likeness on it. An iconic map makes navigating the many park villages easy. Dolly's home-on-wheels gives visitors a chance to see what life on the road is like for a country musician. The book train for Dolly's Imagination Library.

That understanding begins with Parton’s philanthropy. Beyond Bryson’s gate discount, Parton is the organizing force behind The Imagination Library – an international foundation that provides free books to pre-kindergarten youngsters.

I think about the books I purchased for my niece and nephew, “doesn’t everyone buy books for the children in their life.”

Well, yes, that’s kind of the point. Dolly has a ginormous life.

In nearby Sevierville, Parton established a center for women’s health services. She might as well be helping her neighbor pay for a mamogram.

Everyone I meet on my trip to Tennessee seems to have a story of how they have been personally touched by her benevolence. Her interests employ literally thousands of people in Nashville and Pigeon Forge alone.

Bryson has an interesting way of putting it: “Out here, there are three kinds of money: old money, new money, and Dolly money.”

Yours Truly and my pal Bryson in front of the Dollywood Express that chugs guests to the park's various corners

Among her greater extravagances are the park's Vegas-scale musicals. They run three times a day, simultaneous to one another.

Bryson and I snag air conditioned seats for “Dreamland Drive-In,” a jukebox revue and “Sha-Kon-O-Hey!” for which Parton wrote original music.

Parton’s journey takes on depth for me at the Smoky Mountain Home and Dolly Museum attractions.

The first is a replica of Parton’s two-room childhood home, decorated with treasures from the original.

The second is a museum filled with Parton clippings and displays.

I consider my father’s beginnings on a chicken farm in Oklahoma. How he moved to a house with modern conveniences with my great uncle in Colorado after returning to the US from war. Those were dramatic changes for him and he only lived with one sibling and one parent.

Dolly has eleven siblings!

My chance to feel tiny at one of the many photo op sites in Dollywood

Inside the museum, I read a piece on the opening of the park. People magazine inferred on their cover that Parton was a “hillbilly.”

While this term is now generally recognized as a slur, it's breezy deployment in 1986 must have had an awkward, private impact on the mountain dwellers among her fanbase.

Dollywood has the expected thrills and rides, too. Thunderhead, one of the world’s last wooden roller coasters is here. While the banks aren’t as sharp on wooden coasters, the vibration of the wood enhances the thrill of the steep, slow climbs and delicate freefalls.

My ride on Thunderhead is as smooth a ride as I’ve ever had on this type of frame, perhaps eclipsed only by the defunct Mister Twister which I rode as a child in my youth.

I enjoy the gravity defying loops of the more modern Tennessee Tornado, feeling my feet slip over my head and back again.

Bryson checks the ride site photographs after each ride. I always seem to be smiling broadly with my eyes closed.

(L to R): The grist mill from which delicious baking eminates! The Mystery Mine, a fire danger theme ride with a splash ending, and patrons strolling the Dollywood grounds.

There are eleven unique villages in the park. That doesn’t even include the separate admission water park next door.

I enjoy engaging the spaces between the villages, too.

It is cheering to hear gospel coming from a group performing in a gazebo and know it is musical celebration and not in the service of a fear-mongering liturgy.

At every walkway, Dolly’s hits whisper steadily over the park P.A. system. "Coat of Many Colors," "Nine to Five," and "Here You Come Again." She's been making them for so long, you forget there are so many.

A bald eagle winks his eye at the on-site preserve for non-releasable birds. The smell of cinnamon rolls wafts up beside the waterwheeled “grist mill."

Oh, yes, the park has a professional whittler and a participatory taffy pull.

Can this be happening? I am moved by a theme park!

Pollok Country Garden and Burrell Collection Adventure

Yours Truly relaxing after my walk to Pollok Country Gardens in Glasgow, Scotland

A six mile walk from the West End of Glasgow might seem distant for some, but I grew up against the Rocky Mountains. An absence of thin air, crag, or grade along the route means my trek to Pollok Country Park is relaxing and invigorating.

The Clyde Arc Bridge is a "winking" bridge; one that tilts on an ellipsis

I cross the handsome Clyde Arc Bridge to the opposite side of the river. Over the last two decades, Glaswegians built huge convention centers, office parks, and museums along the banks of the Clyde.

Further south of this divide, Indian and Pakistani immigrants enliven the red-brick Victorian townships. Foreign proprietors have claimed the spaces once belonging to Scotch dressmakers and tobacconists and dressed the windows with glittering saris and hookahs.

Above: the afternoon light filtered through the treetops at Pollok Country Park
Below: Scotland is home to 5 percent of the world's total mosses, making it the richest nation in terms of bryophytes. On this tree alone are 3 of its 1000 varieties.

At the edge of Lochinch, where the park is located, I observe how the highway gives into a thick conifer forest. I can barely extend an arm between the trunks of the thrity and forty foot trees. It’s the kind of forest that would have inspired me to draw stories in crayon on butcher paper when I was a child.

Highland cow and calf

I crash on a park bench of contemporary design carved from calcium hardened wood. On the path to my right, I spy a naturally felled wych elm sprouting ferns, moss, and mushrooms. I walk to my left, and highland cattle come into view.

The cows have just calved. There are four youngsters among the horn-and-shag faces, resting in the shade. I can feel how the air is still wet low to the ground even on this unusually warm day.

The White Cart River

Elsewhere in the park, the White Cart River sounds to me just like its namesake as the footsteps of joggers run past it like a team at a gallop.

The home of the Burrell Collection

The angular cottage I enter next is the Burrell Collection. Burrell was fascinated with the fine art of his time and befriended Rodin among others. Degas “The Rehearsal” is among the famous works Burrell collected. Many spaces in the mezzanine gallery are vacant as the curators lease works out for retrospectives.

Burrell rescued stained glass from deteriorating European cathedrals

Like other industrialists of the time, Burrell also used his wealth to preserve artifacts of the world’s great cultures that were threatened by exposure or neglect. Here, I can almost touch a hand-painted pane of stained glass from a demolished 12 th century cathedral. I see my reflection in Elizabethan armor polished and stacked upright.

A sculptural manuscript from the Burrell Collection

The curators permanently host Burrell’s pottery, sculpture and other fragments from Egypt, China, Japan, Greece, Rome, and Mesopotamia. Burrell’s interest is the only thread that connects them.

I imagine how his friends must have come to understand his perspective on his own life, hearing the story of his choice to acquire a statue of Egyptian revenge goddess Sehkmet, or how, in a market of illuminated manuscripts valued for their gold, he was drawn to the earthy alabaster carvings of a rare sculptural gospel.

One of the old study rooms at the Burrell

Near to the displays are the study rooms where visitors to the collection were once welcomed. Now, the elegant study rooms themselves are a display within the collection. I step in close to the velvet ropes and smell the carved, unfinished mahogany. The early wrought-iron electric lamps are still working!

Yours Truly beside of the carved mantlepieces at the Burrell Collection

Frequency Hopper Update and New Posts Coming Soon!

Yours Truly hugging a tree in the Queen Ann Garden of Stirling Castle in Stirling, Scotland

My tour of Northern England and Scotland winds up this week!

I've had a tremendous time. Most everyone has been super friendly and helpful.

A few points of order:

deltamagnet@yahoo.com or deltamagnet@facebook.com

- At this time I'm soliciting new adventures. If you are the representative of a travel bureau or own a business you would like me to visit, please email me.

- Presently, I have solid couch surfing offers from pals in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and Tehama, Japan. These are my best leads for a 2012 international trip. Nearby B&Bs, upscale hostels, and unique housing situations: please ring me up! The doors are wide open and I'm in planning mode.

- I'm launching two new "ongoing series": Cafes I Have Known and Bookstores I Have Known. If your cafe or bookstore business would like to be featured in a future post, please let me know and I will arrange a visit when next I'm in your town.

- Below are some of the posts I'm organizing for the summer and fall.

I'll be folding in my promised Colorado, Wyoming, and Arizona posts also.

If you'd like a notification when a specific topic is posted, please email me and I will let you know when it is up...

Manchester, England

Salford Lads Club Smiths Room Quest (with video)

Newcastle, England

Segedunum and Hadrian’s Wall Adventure

Glasgow, Scotland

Tramway Hidden Gardens Adventure

Glasgow Necropolis Adventure

Pollok County Garden and Burrell Collection Adventure

Strathyre, Scotland

Right-of-Way to Rob Roy’s Grave Adventure (with video)

Ben Vane Hiking Adventure (with video)

Falls of Dochart and Killin Trail Adventure

Stirling, Scotland

Stirling Castle Adventure

Edinburgh, Scotland

Craigmilllar Castle Adventure

Arthur’s Seat Adventure (with video)

Egilsay, Scotland

Edible Egilsay Adventure

Nashville, Tennessee

Nashville Cycle Tour Adventure

The Columbia Viper and Superhero Tourism

Knoxville, Tennessee

Knoxville Noon Music

Pigeon Forge, Tennessee

Dollywood Adventure

Asheville, North Carolina

Linville Caverns Adventure

Black Mountain College Quest and Montreat Hiking Adventure

Carl Sandburg Connemara Farm Adventure

Raleigh, North Carolina

Crepe Myrtle Pride Celebration

University of North Carolina Greenbelt and Botanical Garden Adventure

St. Louis, Missouri

Going Up In The Gateway Arch

Thanks to all my readers for making these journeys so fun to pursue!

xxoo
Dale

Oban, Scotland McCaig's Tower Adventure

The proprietress of Strathyre's Rosebank House , Mal Dingle is driving. Her sister, my friend, Iona is in the passenger's seat.

We are talking about how there is very little professional tango dancing in London. Iona dances tango professionally and has difficulty finding European men who can keep up with her!

I'm in the back seat eating seasoned peanuts and copious amounts of fruit. If there is such a thing as a vegan garbage disposal, I'm probably it.

In the U.K., people drive on the opposite side of the road than Americans do. It means fewer accidents, although one waits much longer at traffic lights.

They also drive crazy fast on narrow roads here. That's what they get for translating everything into metrics!


At low tide in Oban, Scotland, the gulls frenzy picking at dulce and washed up sealife along the schist banks.

You can see McCaig's Tower at the top of the hill.

The hike up was steep but brief. Only about 15 minutes from the seaside.

McCaig built the tower to honor his family and employ Oban's stone masons during the winter months. The estates of both John McCaig and his widow were famously contested, leaving the tower we see today without its planned museum and sculpture garden.

From Oban, people ferry off to the islands of Mull and Lismore in the distance.

Iona is enjoying some oysters and crab here. Yes, they were excruciatingly fresh. I made contact with those-who-were-about-to-die in their baskets at the fish stand. Poor little guys!

In the U.S., salt water taffy is the ubiquitous seaside sweet. In Scotland, sugar mice fill that role.

Invented in Crieff by Gordon and Durward in 1954, sugar mice are especially popular at Christmas.

Tradition is that their tails should be made of string and not licorice, though the ones I saw didn't have tails at all.

Newcastle Castle Keep Adventure

Yours Truly inside the Newcastle Castle Keep

When I get a crack at a castle, I think of Marcello Mostriani, in La Dolce Vita, holding a candleabra, bounding through an Italian ruin. I think of loud laughter in acoustically perfect rooms.

The castles I know have steep, worn steps too small for any feet to fit on entirely. My movements within them are quiet and deliberate. On the turret stairs, I am always thinking about my feet, descending a fan of spiral stone wedges.

The stairs leading to the chapel and garrison rooms at Newcastle Keep

I typically engage in the type of adventure that moves fast. At Newcastle’s Keep, I know the adventure will be more like crossing a rope bridge or descending a crevasse.

When I see the blond face of the Keep, I interpret playful industry from the 12th century brickmasons.

These men suggested an elephant at rest where the old castle motte must have appeared like the hump of it’s back curled resting against the River Tyne.

Though few English had actually seen them, the "face" of the castle keep is consistent with artistic interpretations of elephants from Medieval times

Inside, I explore the garrison room, where men were jailed in irons. I trace the cool arches in the chapel and feel a warm shaft of light tickle my skin through cross-hatched window panes. The most favored and least cherished representatives of human nature came together on this floor.

The Keep chapel

I imagine the town under seize by the Scots, how the townspeople would gather in the Great Hall for protection, how they might receive an address from a representative of the Royal Family staying in the King or Queen’s chambers. I imagine the balcony lined with bow-drawn archers ready to the defense.

One of the four towers atop the Keep. Most can be entered via a crawlspace.

Some believe a stone in sentient, that it holds memories, and the intensity of the actors who touched it or passed can be felt within.

Modern Newcastle as seen from the Keep rooftop

But perhaps it is that, like stones, the people of Medieval times were durable beyond the softness of our age. Perhaps this legend is the crutch that enables our compassion for them, their fears and superstitions.

Edinburgh Elephant House Adventure

The entrance to Elephant House, a cafe just off the Royal Mile in Edinburgh, Scotland. It is the birthplace of the Harry Potter books.

J.K. Rowling inspires me.

I knew she was all right when evangelicals began trying to ban her books in American libraries.

When her wealth began to rival that of the Queen of England, she became the hero of all writers.

The crowd inside the Elephant House. Table 10, Rowling's favorite, is frequently reserved.

We no longer have to apologize for spending long hours in solitude, or for fits of relative poverty. The cost-benefit analysis of our souls has been permanently silenced.

Edinburgh, Scotland is vividly Rowling’s inspiration. The Medieval roots of witchcraft, British class stratification, and the value of experiential education play themselves out daily in this landscape of castles, old trade streets, and universities.

Yours Truly and my friend budding Hungarian writer and translator Bence Molnar.

As the staff will share with you, Rowling never intended on renewing the writer’s relationship to the cafe. Elephant House was the only public place in Edinburgh she could keep her infant daughter from crying.

Children's drawings of elephants near the cafe counter.

Trophy cases in the cafe are arrayed with elephants: cut of onyx, carved of wood, stuffed with cotton. The music in the cafe is typically smooth jazz or bright, classical piano work.

Fan art, scribbled on napkins or bits of paper by children, is posted on a wall with Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling notices just to the left.

The picture windows at the back catch the south east side of Edinburgh Castle. You can also catch a sliver of Greyfriar’s Kirk graveyard.

Settling In at Strathyre's Rosebank House

The entrance to Rosebank House in Strathyre, Scotland

Strathyre’s Rosebank House proprietress Mal Dingle is picking me up in nearby Callander.

She’s 5’8” and hearty, gray hair elegantly fringing her face, delivering the anticipated accent without theatricality or irony.

Will she give into it? After decades of familiarity with Scotland? After leaving for art school in London, finding love and fortune and returning to funnel her life into B and B work mode?

Yours Truly and Mal Dingle

The abbreviated definite articles and the word “wee” emerge from her with sincerity. Her love of Scotland and for looking after people is genuine. She txts me twice as my bus approaches it’s destination. When I disembark, she wants to know how I am “getting on.”

“It is so beautiful up here,” I say, “I can’t stop smiling.”

A view of the River Balvag from Rosebank House

I do not intend to come to Scotland. My international invitations for 2011 include an artist’s colony and English-only dude ranch in Japan, some gay-owned B and Bs in Germany, and a sober, vegan commune off the coast of Vancouver.

Somehow, a guy from the Scottish travel board and a college classmate prevail upon me. Mal invites me to stay in the Forest Suite while her sister, my Facebook friend, is also visiting. The last pieces of the journey come together as I am boarding my flight from SFO.

The banks of the River Balvag

It’s an unusually sunny two weeks. No one can remember the weather being this clear for so long. “Did you bring it with you?” Mal asks.

It is probably a good thing the Scots can only count on a few hours of cloudbreak a day: the sun is brighter up here.

The clarity of the sun, the intense light, generates, to my eye, greater color and detail. I tromp through gorse and under budding rowan in the sun. In the shade, my open hands brush against ferns, mosses, lichens, and mushrooms. My eyes are fully dialated: I’m tripping on nature.

The garden behind Rosebank House in Strathyre

Across from Rosebank, cyclists tour and walkers stroll either side of the River Balvag. Mal’s Mountain Room overlooks both paths.

The Rose Room, Garden Room, and Forest Room (where I am booked) look onto a garden of red azaela and other bedding plants. There is a cast iron picnic area for socializing and a quaint log cabin for solitude.

(above top to bottom)

The spacious Forest Suite, huge key fobs won't get lost while you recreate, a view of the village from the bathroom skylight.

In inclement hours, guests can get close to the elements from the comfort of a glassed in gazebo on the second floor. Alternatively, Rosebankers can tipple a few in the comfy lounge fully distracted by DVDs, television, wi-fi, books, or games.

This weekend, I have the pleasure of meeting two of Mal’s first customers. Roger comes back frequently. It is typical for him to bring three of his pals from Yorkshire. William liked his inital stay at Rosebank so much, he basically moved in, so Mal always has at least one paying guest, like a lucky charm.

There can be a “wee” bit of confusion in the marketplace. Mal reports of at least five B&Bs named Rosebank House here in Scotland. This is the only Rosebank in Strathyre, however, and certainly the only one where Mal’s touch is evident.

The global hugback can be felt in pages of the guest book. I note visitors from South Africa, Florida, The Netherlands, and Japan on a single page. And daily guests from the U.K. are about mingling in the garden, the lounge, or at the breakfast table.

Vegan haggis: not an oxymoron!

My days at Rosebank begin with a breakfast of vegan haggis, toast, juice, fried mushrooms and tomatoes. If the weather holds, I plan a hike up a Munro, Corbett, or a Graham. When it rains, Mal approaches me with suggestions for indoor activity day trips. Perth for shopping, Stirling for history.

My nights are filled with games of Skat, quiet reading, and coffee-fueled chats. Mal says many of their guests become familiar friends. I look forward to my return as one of that number.

Yours Truly in the garden at Rosebank House

The Music of Manchester's Science and Industry Museum

The transport section of Manchester's Museum of Science and Industry

Even without instrumentation, Manchester is filed with music.

In Manchester, I listen to footsteps, empty alleyways, smashed bottles, fist fights and 3 am “good nights.”

The Victorian brick and smokestack look of the city has updated. A skyscraping blue hotel occupies the same footprint a factory once did. Yet, like that factory must have, it hums over your shoulder, wherever you go in the city, extolling the business of the times.

At Manchester's Museum of Science and Industry, one’s ear is constantly stimulated. Sometimes by a steam turbine, sometimes by the rollers and combs of a cotton sliver.

Sometime, one listens to the imagination. What were those conversations like on the world’s first passenger airplane? What does the furnace of a star sound like?

Consider the excitement that build Manchester: the concentration of ideas and innovation. The bicycle chain, purple dye, water-resistant clothing, and synthetic fabrics owe their birth to the tremendous concentration of industrial-era minds that met here.

This small coal-train runs for ten minutes down two stretches of track. Adult rides are 2£.

The challenge for those living during those heady years was to nurture a love of art and culture, to lead a life of moral example, all while being invigorated by wealth and punished by brutalizing conditions.

So it is poignant that, in the relative peace of our time, we may educate ourselves to the everyday music of theirs.

Frequency Hopping in the United Kingdom

My table at Biblocafe in Glasgow, Scotland

I'm in the U.K. and eager to post related to my adventures here. I have a video for Manchester which I will post ASAP.

I have promised posts on Northern Colorado and Arizona also, so I will be folding those in as I journey North and East in Scotland.

******

One challenge I have had in the U.K. is that laptop culture, specifically ubiquitous free Wi-Fi, is a hard sell.

Most people do not want people with computers hanging around their business all day! Don't they have jobs!?

Never mind that simply owning a computer winks to business owners your disposable income level and your education: loiterin' is loiterin'...

Alternatively, desiring Wi-Fi indicates you have deep pockets. So the Bed and Breakfast would like 1/2 the price of a room in exchange for 24 hours of internet access, thank you.

Also, once a Wi-Fi network is "down" do not expect it to be back up any time soon.

An inquiry for when service will be reestablished is met with many people asking other people for guidance and all ultimately returning blank stares.

No one seems to know anyone who dares to turn a modem on and off, is handy with a server, nor do they intend to call a service.

I was listening to the television the other day and heard an ad I thought directed toward an unusually technophobic market, about how "technology gets in the way" of actual living. Surprisingly, it was the Apple advertisement for iPad 2.

Since the iPad will sell briskly here as elsewhere, it struck me that Apple wasn't advertising to technophobes, they are attempting to normalize the product for non-users.

Will handheld electronic owners be emboldened to use their tools in public if non-owners feel they can't still approach their friend in a cafe or on a park bench? If non-owners see a tool for communication and efficiency or a dangerous toy for private advantage?

This issue is resolved by sustained public activity in the United States. Everyone in the coffee shop has a laptop, everyone is online, and everyone is interacting.

Your Mom has a laptop and an e-reader and a smartphone. So does your nephew or niece. Parents go through their children's text messages at the end of the day. Sometimes you sleep with your e-tools or at least keep them by the bed. A couples sits at the same table IMing one another about a distruptive patron or a mutually attractive one.

Blogs, vlogs and social networks don't constitute a new public space so much as they extend the old space (with some growing pains.)

I've been grilled by a few people, starting at customs, about what it means to be identified in part by my internet use.

- What does it mean that I am a "travel blogger."
- Delta Magnet is "a very unusual name" to go by online.
- I will be meeting people I have never met except for on social networks!? (alarm sounds)

"How do you know this man is the right sort of people?" I was challenged by a friend. Just because a man works for the Scottish Tourism Bureau and wants to be my Facebook friend doesn't mean anything, especially if one's true friends you know don't have any connection to him or know the pub you both plan on patronizing!

Fortunately, there have been great partings in the clouds.

I am seated presently in the wonderful Biblocafe across the street from Glasgow's Burbank Bowling lawn. To the east is a pocket park where a quartet of woolly picnicers are lounging in second-hand clothes. The barrista is carrying espressos to their encampment in ceramic mugs.

The Wi-Fi signal here is as strong as the brew. The venue doubles as a used-book store and creative gathering place if you need further inspiration.

At the hostels, the sheer volume of young people visiting from elsewhere make Wi-Fi, for calls and posting photos, an essential.

Elsewhere, I met a wonderful fellow traveler from Brighton who is keen to put me up for a night or two should I choose to cover the South! And I have been assured of e-continuity by my hosts in Strathyre and Edinburgh.

I am breathing a contented sigh of e-relief!

Mile High Capitol Adventure

Folks nicknamed Denver the “Mile High City” due to it’s altitude above sea level.

The portion of Denver that is factually a Mile High may be limited to skyscrapers and clocktowers, but there is an absolute and accurate measure: the State Capitol Building.

My buddy David and I resolved to take a hike to the top.

On the way in, we horsed around in the vast fountains on the mall. David lifted up his shirt to show me his belly and said he needed a new pic for “Hot or Not,” the photo rating site that was popular during the first dot com rush.


I was obliged to pose with one of the Capitol’s stately cannons between my legs. This photo op was so popular we had to wait in line behind a trio of teenagers for our turn.


On our way inside the building, David observed that it was 420 and made the appropriate devotion.

It should be indicated that he was not paranoid about this at all! Nor did it in any way influence the security guards to double check the inside of my backpack!

We stumbled upon a docent led tour and merged.

We learned that all the wood, brass materials, granite and marble in the Capitol had been sourced from inside the state. This was so important to the builders that gifts of more valuable materials were turned away.

Also noted: Wyoming was the first state to give women the right to vote based only on a technicality. Colorado proposed and passed the legislation first, but Wyoming had their election sooner.

Something I didn’t expect to be introduced to was a series of portraits commemorating the states race variety!

From the capitols establishment during the industrial revolution, Denver paid lip service to the idea of racial unity signified by newly freed slaves, westward and northward migrants, railroad workers of Asian descent, and the still very robust native population building the state together. In context, it's an uneasy collection.


Whereas once one climbed a long rickety spiral of stairs to ascend the Capitol dome, our way was smoothed by a short elevator trip and a pause at a new, dense museum.

The highlight of this was playing Godzilla with a miniature version of the Capitol.


Inside the dome there are attractions upwards, downwards, and outwards.

City Fathers are remembered with stained glass portraits lining a columnar molding above.


In the center of the dome is the dramatic rotunda - not for those with with a fear of heights.


Outside, in every railing, are brass pointers indicating the direction and the highest mountaintops in view.


While some of the northern peaks are now obscured, I found the pointers reassuring.

Early on, the states’ natural beauty was determined to be more worthy of these plaques that what battle happened where or what business was established in what location.