Posts
Return to Dick’s Creek: New Gear, New Hiker, New State
We're heading back out soon. Making calculated gear changes and weighing new items. And adding a new member to our hiking team for our May 2024
Five Tips for Backpacking the A.T. in Georgia
Planning your A.T. adventure for Georgia? If it’s April, pack for winter. If it’s September, pack for spring. I don’t make the rules.
Rescued by a Green Dragon
Blue Mountain is an over-eager aerobics instructor in blue leg warmers; cheering you on saying “you got this!” When you clearly don’t.
April vs. September on the A.T. in Georgia
No one will see your shiny hiney when you use nature's prickly bathroom off the trail.
A Fallen Tree Drinks from Horsetrough
"I am seven trees now, when I was only one. This will happen to you," he said kindly.
A Deer on Kelly’s Knob
The trail is lush and green in September, waist high wildflowers shade black bear and deer, sleeping in late afternoon. Unseen by me, they raise and turn their heads when I do—towards the sweet, high, lilting voice of my singing sister—Walkie Talkie. She and Liberty Bear must be atop the hillside now, their voices no longer shielded, floating down to me like flower petals.
Five Nature-Inspired Yoga Poses for Hikers
Is it an accident that so many Yoga poses are named for plants, trees, animals, and features of landscape? I don't think so. Try out these 5 nature-inspired Yoga poses, and consider adding them to your morning and evening hiking "chores." You won't regret it!
Reconditioning for Our Hike
I followed the trail around a bend where I could hear someone chopping wood in the distance. But it was not a six foot tall human swinging an axe. It was a woodpecker the likes of which I've never seen.
Yoga Sisters: We Move Therefore We Are
We hike because we dreamed about it for so long. We hike because we love the act of hiking, moving, breathing, feeling the breeze rush by our ears, feeling sweat drip between our shoulder blades.
Appalachian Spectres & Superstitions (Campfire Optional)
...[S]omewhere south of Pennsylvania, thru-hikers trade crawdads for mudbugs and find themselves deep in a region of ancient native healing and folkways without realizing the rich and mystical history of the red clay under their feet. Join me over yonder at the campfire (optional) and sit a spell. If you have the sense God gave a goose, you might better tell these tales in hushed tones, so no Boo Daddies overhear you and come to call.