Time Traveling Through Shenandoah National Park
Page 8
Just as we reached the cabin, Wild Bill marched up from the direction of the parking lot. From a distance, he could easily be mistaken for Papa Lewis. They both wear the same 1940s era clothing and use World War II gear. Even though we had just been on an adventure with Wild Bill, so much had happened since we left him that it seemed like we hadn’t seen him in ages. You’d think Wild Bill had just returned from a ten-year voyage with all the hugs, handshakes, and warm welcomes we exchanged!
We all sat down for dinner at the picnic table on the porch. Mom scooped her famous spicy camp pasta onto everyone’s plates. It had a new twist this time. Papa Lewis added some of his famous dehydrated chicken to her recipe, and we were all eager to try it. Grandma passed around some dinner rolls, and Dad put out a plate of assorted vegetables. Hug-a-Bug and I set out a pitcher of lemonade we had made from the filtered spring water. The entire family pitched in to prepare this meal; Mom says that’s the spirit of camping. As we ate, we caught Wild Bill up on all the action. We told him all about how Cousin Nick, Dolly, and Washington were on some sort of secret mission, and so we hadn’t been able to see much of them.
“I’m not sure what exactly the mission is that Cousin Nick, Dolly, and Washington are on, but I know who they are working for,” Wild Bill responded. “After the chestnut blight hit back in the early 1900s, the government, shocked by the devastation of the forest, became concerned that something like that might happen again. They were worried about future threats to our wildlands and farmland. Another invasive fungus, non-native species, pollution, or other blight could devastate our food supply, our nation’s forests and wildlands, or all three. They established a secret organization that would monitor future threats and come up with solutions. The idea was to bring the best scientists and experts together to solve problems before the damage was done.”
“But why would that have to be a secret?” Hug-A-Bug asked.
“The reason for the secrecy was to prevent widespread panic over possible threats. This group has remained secret since its creation in the 1940s. Since our family mission is to protect and preserve our wildlands for future generations, joining this secret group became attractive to many members of our time-travel clan all over the country. I know, because I joined them and became a member of the group myself. Even though I’m no longer an employee, I still got regular briefings up until last year. Then the briefings suddenly ended, and I was cut out of the loop.”
“We just talked about the chestnut blight today with Papa Lewis,” Hug-a-Bug commented.
“Why were you cut out of the loop?” I asked.
We all sat and listened to Wild Bill, eager to learn more, while Dad struck a match and stoked a crackling fire in the stone fireplace next to us on the porch.
“When I was with the agency, we monitored threats from non-native species and other environmental concerns, and then we worked with private agencies to implement solutions to protect the native species and preserve the environment. But last year, a radical shift occurred. The climate was deemed to be a ’national security’ threat, meaning that the extreme change in weather and rising sea levels could impact our national security. Since the climate had now become a government concern, our agency was called into action. The agency was instantly elevated as one of the lead covert agencies to protect our national security. Suddenly, everything the agency did became top secret. They had always operated under the radar and used codes to communicate. But now, even within the agency, information was only shared with those who had a top secret clearance. That is how I got cut out of the loop—I don’t have that level of clearance,” Wild Bill explained.
“Why would they want to keep this stuff secret? Wouldn’t it be better if everyone knew about the problems so we could all work together to solve them?” I asked.
“When it comes to national security, there are strict protocols that must be followed, even if they seem a bit over-the-top. We don’t know all the factors that make a matter confidential. That’s probably the struggle Washington is having. He knows that none of us would ever leak any of his secrets, but he also doesn’t want to get in trouble for breaking his sworn oath of secrecy. I agree with you, Bubba Jones, when it comes to preserving and protecting our wildlands. We all can play a role, with or without a security clearance,” Wild Bill said.
“Would Washington get in any trouble if we were able to figure out what it is he is up to?” I asked.
“I suppose not as long as he hadn’t given you the information. I like how you think, Bubba Jones. Maybe we can put our brainpower to work on that. In the meantime, let’s enjoy our time traveling through Shenandoah and learn some more about the park,” Wild Bill said.
“Sounds like a plan.”
We enjoyed the sunset and then sat around the picnic table listening to Wild Bill and Papa Lewis share stories. Hug-a-Bug and I roasted marshmallows in the fireplace and made s’mores. As the fire died down, everyone started preparing for bed. I gazed into the embers of the fire. The crickets chirped their night song. The stars sparkled bright up in the night sky, and the moonlight filtered down through the trees. I was one of the last ones to go to bed. I secured the door and zipped into my sleeping bag. A cool breeze blew through the cabin’s open windows, setting the stage for a great night’s sleep.
Some time after drifting into a deep slumber, I woke up with my heart pounding. Had I dreamed it, or had a bloodcurdling scream awakened me? I sat up in my bunk, listening and waiting. I could see the silhouette of Hug-a-Bug sitting up, too, so I feared it had not been just a dream. There it went again—a high-pitched screech!
“W-what was that?!” Hug-a-Bug stammered. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Oh, that’s just a baby barred owl calling out to its mother. Nothing to worry about,” Wild Bill said.
Hug-a-Bug let out a sigh of relief. Wild Bill’s answer put our fears to bed. That’s the cool thing about spending a lifetime in the outdoors like Papa Lewis and Wild Bill—they have come to know every sound in the night. I lay back down and soon sank back into a deep sleep.
The smell of bacon pulled me from my slumber. It was morning. The cabin door was open, and I could see Dad holding a sizzling skillet over our one-burner hiking stove. I got dressed and stepped outside. Beads of morning dew glistened from the grass in the morning sunlight. White-tailed deer grazed nearby, gracing us with their presence. Birds sang rich notes. It was a gorgeous mountain morning!
Wild Bill and Papa Lewis studied a park map at the picnic table while sipping their morning coffee.
“Good morning, Bubba Jones,” Dad whispered.
“Morning, Dad,” I replied.
Slowly, the rest of the family came outside as well. Everyone gathered at the picnic table to enjoy a delicious breakfast and to find out what was on the agenda for the day.
“Our plan is to end the day in the Big Meadows area of the park. Wild Bill and I have an interesting adventure planned along the way,” Papa Lewis announced.
I couldn’t wait to find out what they had in store for us. There is never a dull moment when Papa Lewis and Wild Bill get together!
CHAPTER 12
THE LAND OF THE FREE
Shortly after breakfast, we all packed up our gear, tidied up the cabin, packed out our trash, and left. It’s important to take all your trash with you since there is no garbage collection service. We strolled to the parking lot to continue our adventure. The weather was on our side with blue sky and sunshine. It was still on the cool side of what promised to be a warm summer day. Wild Bill had a surprise for us when we reached the parking lot. A shiny, bright red historic vehicle sat parked next our jeep. It had a tan convertible roof and whitewall tires.
“She’s a beauty, don’t ya think? It’s a 1933 Ford Roadster with a rumble seat. I rode her all the way up here from the Great Smoky Mountains, along the Blue Ridge Parkway. I thought it would be fun to ramble along Skyline Drive in her,” Wild Bill said as he unfastened the convertible top and folded it back.
> “Wow! Can we ride with you?” Hug-a-Bug implored.
“You betcha! You and Bubba Jones can ride back here in the rambler seat,” Wild Bill answered as he walked around to the rear, turned a latch handle, and pulled open a stow-away seat.
Papa Lewis conferred with Dad on directions and then hopped into the passenger seat of Wild Bill’s ’33 Ford. We pulled out onto Skyline Drive headed north with Dad following us in the Jeep with Grandma and Mom. The wind whipped our hair in all directions as we rambled down the road. I felt like I was on a roller coaster! This was fun!
“Back in the 1930s when the park was established, owning a car was a revolutionary thing, kind of like surfing on the internet in the 1990s. Everyone wanted a car, and they wanted to take a trip somewhere fun. Driving along Skyline Drive in Shenandoah satisfied this new American desire for a travel adventure perfectly. Shenandoah National Park quickly became one of the most visited national parks,” Papa Lewis explained to us.
“This was one of the cars that cruised Skyline Drive when Shenandoah National Park first came to be, and it’s in mint condition,” Wild Bill added.
We had only been on the road for a few miles when Wild Bill turned off of Skyline at a sign announcing Lewis Mountain. Dad pulled in behind us. We stopped along a quiet two-lane road a few hundred feet off of Skyline Drive. Everyone hopped out of the vehicles.
“I’m pretty sure this campground has a camp store. Do you mind if we stop and check? I need to stock up on a few provisions,” Wild Bill said.
“No problem, Bill. We would’ve stayed here at Lewis Mountain Campground last night if the Pocosin Cabin was unavailable. We’ll follow you to the camp store,” Papa Lewis said as we hopped back into our vehicles and drove into the campground.
We climbed back into our vehicles and drove deeper into the Lewis Mountain area. On our left, an inviting grassy field with trees and picnic tables came into view. Kids ran about playing, while grownups sat at picnic tables and socialized. We continued to drive and a row of cabins came into view off to the left with people milling about. A large one story building came into view on the right side of the road, painted in the traditional deep brown used by the national parks. It looked like a place of business. The camping area was further ahead. Wild Bill stopped his car in front of the large building and turned off the engine. Dad followed suit with the Jeep. Wild Bill hopped out, walked up to the entrance, pulled open a screen door and disappeared inside. We all hoped out of the vehicles while we waited.
“That must be the store. Wild Bill hasn’t come out yet,” Papa Lewis said.
Two cyclists stood next to their bikes nearby. They finished guzzling bottles of water they must have bought from the store and then hopped back on their bikes and pedaled away. Their bikes were loaded down with as much gear as a thru-hiker carries on their back.
“Skyline Drive is a popular route for long distance cyclists. Based on all that gear, it looks like they are camping along the way,” Papa Lewis commented.
“That sounds like a fun adventure. I’ll bet those cyclists work up big appetites, just like thru-hikers,” I said.
While we waited for Wild Bill, Papa Lewis filled us in with some more park history.
“This campground was designated for blacks from 1939 until 1950. During that time, this was the only facility in the park where blacks could camp,” Papa Lewis explained.
“Why would the park have a separate camping area for black people?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“Didn’t the Civil War give black people their freedom? That is not fair,” I said.
“Our parks are a special place to explore and be free. But I sure wouldn’t feel free if I was told I had to stay in a certain area because of the color of my skin. Sadly, at the time, the South was segregated under the Jim Crow laws, which held that black people were ’separate but equal.’ Black people and white people weren’t allowed to mingle at school, on buses, or in public restrooms. Black people had to drink out of separate drinking fountains than white people. This policy even showed its ugly head in Shenandoah,” Papa Lewis explained.
“It’s amazing how far we’ve come since then,” I said.
Just then the screen door sprang open, and Wild Bill stepped out with a bag full of supplies and walked over to us.
“Clark, Petunia, Hug-a-Bug, and Bubba Jones, how about you all go do a spectacular hike to a fantastic view? Bear Fence is right here. It’s a short trip, but it’s a bit of a rock scramble. The view is worth it though. Your grandma’s knees are not up for it, so she and I will ride ahead to Big Meadows with Wild Bill and check on your Uncle Boone and his family,” Papa Lewis suggested.
“That sounds fun!” I responded.
Wild Bill handed Dad the the keys to the roadster, saying, “How about you take her for a spin this time?” Dad’s face lit up like that of a little boy on Christmas morning. He hopped in the car, followed by Mom, Hug-a-Bug, and me. Wild Bill, Grandma, and Papa Lewis motored off in the Jeep.
We drove along Skyline Drive for a little over a mile then, Dad turned off of the road into the Bear Fence Mountain parking lot. The four of us got out and pulled our packs on. Since it was a rock scramble, we left our trekking poles in the car so our hands would be free. We reviewed the map and it showed a 1.2-mile loop. We crossed the road and a short distance in, the trail intersected the A.T. We stopped to check our maps.
“Hey, Hug-a-Bug, Bubba Jones!” a familiar voice shouted.
It was Soul Search, one of the three thru-hikers. I introduced him to our parents. They felt like they already knew him after hearing our stories. He told us that he had stayed at High Top Hut last night. Bagel Man and Fungus were further ahead, and they all were hiking to Big Meadows today. We shared that we were planning to stay at Big Meadows, too. We invited Soul Search to join us on our Bear Fence loop. He declined, saying that he would have a great view all day, and he wanted to remain focused on the A.T. He continued on, and we continued following the Bear Fence loop.
Further on, the trail became steep and rocky, then the rocks gave way to huge boulders. We climbed slowly using our hands as well as our feet. Occasionally, Dad reached back to take Hug-a-Bug’s hand to help her along. In a short while, we reached the summit.
“Wow! I feel like I’m on top of the world!” I shouted.
We stood on a jagged rock with a 360-degree view. We could see distant mountains and blue sky with wisps of cotton candy clouds all around.
“I see why Papa Lewis likes this hike. It’s beautiful up here,” Hug-a-Bug said.
“It sure is. Honey, why didn’t we ever hike this trail before?” Mom asked Dad. Mom and Dad explored parts of Shenandoah National Park on their honeymoon years ago.
“We hiked up to a different peak further north. Remember? We had spectacular views there, too,” Dad replied.
“Oh, I do remember. Let’s make sure we visit that peak with the kids while we’re here.” “Sounds like a plan.”
We each broke out a granola bar and our water, before slowly working our way back down the mountain. The terrain evened out once again, and we soon arrived back at the car.
“That was fun,” Hug-a-Bug grinned as she took off her pack and climbed into the rambler seat. We all wholeheartedly agreed. Dad started up the old Ford and we pulled out onto Skyline Drive towards the Big Meadows area. Excitement brewed, knowing we were about to join up with more family. Crockett will help me uncover Washington’s secret, I thought as we rolled down the road.
CHAPTER 13
WHAT’S THE BIG DEAL?
We drove along Skyline Drive for a short while. Every so often we would slow down to wait for a deer to get out of the road. I noticed a cement post marking a trail off in the tree line and then I noticed a white blaze - the A.T. marker - painted on a tree. Another white blaze was painted on a tree across the road indicating that the trail crossed Skyline Drive.
“Papa Lewis was telling me that the Appalachian Trail crosses Skyline Drive twenty-eight times in Shenandoah,” Dad co
mmented as we continued driving. “We’re entering the part of the park known as the Central District. This is where most of the park visitors spend their time because there is so much to do here: hiking, horseback riding, fishing, camping, birding, and much more. The Central District contains the park’s two main lodges, Skyland and Big Meadows, along with several cabins at Lewis Mountain. Two of the four park campgrounds are located in the Central District as well: Lewis Mountain and Big Meadows, where we are headed right now.”
The tree canopy on the right side of the road gave way to blue sky, cotton ball clouds, and an expansive relatively flat field of grass, an unusual sight on the top of a mountain. A sign came into view announcing Big Meadows. We turned left off Skyline Drive and immediately passed a gas station. Next to the gas station was the Big Meadows Wayside, similar to the one down at Loft Mountain where we had blackberry milkshakes. The road then skirted along to the right and led to a parking area and the National Park Byrd Visitor Center.
“We will explore all of this later. Right now the plan is to check the bulletin board at the Big Meadows campground. That is where everyone was told to post a note.”
“Why don’t we just call them?” Hug-a-Bug asked.
“A lot of times when you are in the mountains, you can’t get cell phone coverage. Sometimes, since you’re in the wilderness, there isn’t a nearby tower, or if there is a tower, mountains or heavy tree canopy can actually block cell signals. Plus, we kind of come up here to ’get away from it all,’ and that includes technology. Using cell phones or other gadgets kind of takes away from the experience of getting back to nature.” Dad explained.
As we drove slowly towards the campground, we saw people walking along a path that paralleled the road. They smiled and waved to us, and we waved back. This continued all the way into the campground.
“I think Wild Bill’s car is drawing lots of attention,” Hug-a-Bug observed with a smile.