GREAT BALSAMS
LOCATIONS
I am madly in love with these mountains, which are part of the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina. I feel both tiny and huge while I’m here. Tiny because I am a speck of a being wandering the same places as the Cherokee, and as individually unimportant as any other living thing that’s been here or will be here. Huge because I am at one with the fabric of this entire place, this rotating earth, this moment in time.
With each step I take in these mountains, I am fully alive and aware of my temporary aliveness.
cover image: Art Loeb Trail
black and white set of diptych pairs:
– Sam Knob Meadow and Graveyard Fields Lower Falls
– Shining Rock Wilderness Loop and Black Balsam Knob
static black and white: Upper Falls Trail
color triptych: Graveyard Fields Loop Trail
spring-fall swipe: East Fork Overlook
video 1: Graveyard Fields Loop Trail
video 2: Blue Ridge Parkway
black and white diptych: Blue Ridge Parkway
black and white mosaic: various locations throughout the Great Balsams
black and white panorama: Tennent Mountain
color panorama: Shining Creek Trail
static color: Art Loeb Trail
color mosaic: Mountain to Sea Trial, Black Balsam Knob, Black Balsam Summit Trail, Art Loeb Trail, Blue Ridge Parkway, Waterrock Knob
video 3: Art Loeb Trail
color diptychs:
– Cold Mountain foothills and Art Loeb Trail
– waterfall off of 215 and Cold Mountain foothills
– Blue Ridge Parkway and Cold Mountain foothills
final image: Flat Laurel Creek
I have thousands of images from these mountains, particularly the Shining Rock Wilderness Area. The trails are varied and sometimes rugged, or muddy, or overgrown, or confusing, but always a thrill and always changing. A few places feel almost magical — my favorite is off-trail (shhh).
The Appalachian Mountains are more than a billion years old, and they were once among the world’s tallest. The mountaintops we see now are strong metamorphic rock that used to be the valleys of the mountain range — erosion wore away the taller limestone rock. I try to imagine what the Great Balsams must’ve looked like back then.
I like to hike late in the day, so all I hear is the wind, hidden creatures rustling, and my boots doing their thing. I also like the small risk that comes from weather that can become extreme in an instant. Mother Nature showing off. She leaves me in awe.
When I take my family or friends, I beam like a proud mama.
NOTE:
This area was ravaged by Hurricane Helene on September 27, 2024. It shook me to my core. Speechless, aching. Incomprehensible.
A couple of weeks later, while walking right down the center of the (closed) Blue Ridge Parkway, I was stunned and relieved to see that the vast majority of natural beauty came through unscathed. If it weren’t for debris making hiking trails impassable, you wouldn’t have known anything unusual had happened here.
The impact on humanity, on the other hand, especially in the remote communities, has been catastrophic. Many people lost everything and won’t fully recover.
This spring, there were a lot of wildfires in the wilderness areas fueled by dry weather and Helene’s debris. One fire was much too close to my little house for comfort — I was on edge for days. But this is nature’s way. Destruction followed by rebirth. I am no longer speechless, but the ache comes back when I see the reminders, which will take years to clean up. If the clean-up happens at all.
I haven’t taken a single photo of anything related to the destruction. It feels disrespectful.
**Above, I mention that I like the small risk of weather that can turn in an instant. Helene wasn’t that. I’m curious to see how I react to a regular storm rolling in the next time I’m on the mountain.**