What follows is part four of a four-part series of journal entries I typed on my iPhone during a month-long trip across Europe. Read more about our itinerary here, or just read on and learn as you go. That’s kind of what I did.(Also see part 1, part 2, part 3,
We would have made it into the woods before dark, but instead we stopped at the Tapoco Lodge right over the North Carolina border to see an old friend there cooking pizzas. It was Friday night and we ate sandwiches and drank IPA until sundown, then we made for the Slick Rock Creek trailhead and headed in.
By the time my wife and I made it onto the trail it was nearly pitch black. For a few minutes we could see the fog rising thick off the Little Tennessee River, then nothing but the 40 feet of trail lit by our headlamps. The fog eventually made its way to the trail about 50 feet about the river and visibility dropped even more.
Editor’s Note: Have I been slacking? It doesn’t feel like it. Even though I haven’t posted in nearly two months now, I’ve been busy. You may remember in one of my last posts I laid out our month-long itinerary for a trip across Europe. We made the trip, and as soon as we got back to the states we hit the ground running, officially making the move to Knoxville, Tenn. and starting work in a four-day window. At any rate, expect journal-style entries from our European adventure to start popping up soon, and for now there’s this:
I can’t believe there’s nobody else on this trail. It’s 10 a.m. on a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning in Knoxville, Tenn. and the pooch and I are virtually the only ones out here at Sharp’s Ridge Memorial Park just north of downtown. What’s going on here, Knoxville?
This place is a mountain biker’s paradise. The first thing I see after finding my way onto one of the unmarked trails running the south face of the ridge is a sign for the expert-level mountain bike trail that cuts off to the right. “No foot traffic” it warns, so I go left.
My wife and I are leaving for a month-long backpacking trip across Europe in just two days. We’ve never really done any long-term traveling before, so we read dozens if not hundreds of articles, blogs, and books gearing up for this trip. Aside from figuring out the obvious like where to go and what to see, we spent considerable time researching what necessities we should carry in the 46-liter Osprey backpacks we’ll be toting along for the trip. Here’s what we’re taking:
NOTE: This is part 2 of a two-part series outlining travel plans for the summer of 2015. First we moved our lives across the United States. Now comes Part 2: Backpacking Europe. Check back for updates.
I’ve got at least another month before I need to act like an adult again. Before starting a new job in mid-July, my wife and I hope to make the most of this adult summer vacation and cover some ground. By my calculations we’ll transverse more than 15,500 miles over the course of 60 days, from trucking our meager belongings back across the U.S. to spending a month backpacking around Europe. Here are plans for the second leg of that journey, playing dumb American tourists as we wander around foreign lands.
For six years now (roughly since 2009) this gal, Gail, has been making palm roses and selling them on the streets of Savannah, GA. Also known as the Savannah Rose, Gail was folding flowers in a park along River Street on a Tuesday morning when my wife and I stopped to take things in and chat a bit.
It was a grueling six-day journey to pack all of our earthly belongings across the United States from Redding, California to our soon-to-be new home in Knoxville, Tennessee, but by some miracle of fortitude my wife and I managed to survive the roughly 2,700-mile trek. We lost four tires on the Penske Big Bird moving truck along the way and — while we aimed to just spend eight hours on the road each day — some days the sun beat us to our destination as our trip ran long. (See our full trip itinerary)
Inevitably the days start to blur together when you’re punching the pedal for 500+ miles every day, so I decided to keep notes each night (or most nights, at least) during our travels. Looking back it’s a great experience to remember, but at the moment you couldn’t pay me to be stuck again in that 16-foot box truck in the middle-of-nowhere Texas. These are dispatches from our misadventures and ultimate salvation, from camping on the road back east and some of the sights we’ve seen along the way.