Get out of your car!

My wife and I just got back from a trip out west where we visited Glacier National Park, Yellowstone, the Grand Tetons, and several other spots in the northern Rockies.

Oh.  My.  Goodness.

Spectacular views.  Everywhere.  Incredible hiking trails.  Waterfalls and bald eagles and majestic, snow-capped peaks.  We were in awe.  I took a bunch of photographs but they can't begin to reveal the beauty.

But you know what?  We have a lot of spectacular beauty in our back door.  We just don't take advantage of all that is to be found around here.

I love the Smokies.  I love the rolling foothills and the mountain views.  I love the backcountry trails and the high country balds.  Most of all I love the streams and creeks that lace these woods in our backyard.

Winter, spring, summer, and fall...I love it all year. 

And then there is Cades Cove.  Easily one of the most beautiful places on earth.  I can only imagine what it looked like as a bustling community.  Oh to have grown up there, with the mountains in your back door.  Unfortunately, I avoid it because of the crowds.  But more on that later.

When I built my house, I first found a piece of land high on a ridge with property that would not allow anyone to build between me and the view of my mountains.  And then when I placed my house on that lot, I put it at an odd angle to the road just to take advantage of that same view. 

Oh I know that the Great Smoky Mountain National Park is the most visited park in the country.  By a pretty significant margin.  Unfortunately, most people never stray from their vehicles.

Take Cades Cove for example.  I find it insanely frustrating when someone thinks they have spotted a critter of some kind.  They just might stop in the middle of the road and hop out of their car to get a closer look.  I call it "Cades-Coveing" and it is frustrating beyond description.  They do it out west too.

Folks, if you get even a bit off the beaten path, there are beautiful places to visit everywhere.

I think half the adults in east Tennessee have visited Bald River Falls above Tellico Plains (and most of those have had their photo taken standing on the bridge with the falls in the background). An intrepid few might have made the steep climb up to the top of the falls. 

Most stop there.  They are REALLY missing out.  If you will just follow the trail that leaves out of the back of the area at the top of the falls, you will find a grand trail and a gorgeous river with multiple waterfalls.

Same thing at Tremont.  Most will take the trail at the end of the gravel road and head up to the Lower Lynn Camp Falls.  But go further and you will see some of the best of the Smokies, from gorgeous wildflowers to evidence of an old settlement (including the carcass of an old car) and then finally to the hidden gem that is Indian Flats Falls.

All it takes is a little effort and the willingness to go where the crowds are not to be found.  And get out of your car.

What are you going to do with your life?

I've told this story before but it bears repeating.

When I was in high school, the school's guidance counselor called me into the office to discuss my future.  His advice?  A 6 week TV repairman school in Chattanooga.

Now I've got nothing against TV repairmen (although they seem to be less and less common) but my parents had somehow instilled in me the ironclad, way-beyond-discussion knowledge that I was going to college.

For most of my life, I've wondered how they did that.  I think I have some idea now. 

Every generation (with only the most selfish of exceptions) wants their children to do better than they did.  Every parent wants their children to be happier and more successful than they were, with far better looks, charm, and personality (although those things are more dependent on genetics and parenting).

That's what my parents wanted.  My dad dropped out of school after the 6th grade because his family needed him to go to work.  He never knew anything else but he never quit trying to learn and better himself.

When he was disabled, my mom went back to work, first in a school cafeteria and then in a local factory.

As for me, I was expected to make good grades.  To be a good boy.  To go to church.

I was given lots of opportunities.  I was able to join Boy Scouts, clubs at school, athletic teams, the band, and anything that happened at our church.

We travelled some, usually staying with family or old friends, but I did get to see Niagra Falls, the St. Louis Arch being started, the Henry Ford Museum, and Daytona Beach.

One thing that might as well have been etched in stone was the crystal clear message that "can't never did do nothing."  Poor grammar I know but "can't" just wasn't allowed in our house.

You want something?  Go to work and earn the money and buy it yourself.  There are plenty of yards to be mowed, fences to be painted, and hay to be hauled (if you don't know that one, you're not from around here).

You want a tree house?  Build it.  I'll teach you how. 

When I built that tree house, my dad was confined to a sedentary lifestyle because of a series of heart attacks, but he sat at the bottom of the tree in a beach chair and coached me on how to build it.  If I ever tried to beat in a bent nail, oh my goodness, did I hear about it.

I was taught tons of lessons like that.  Such as "do it right the first time."

When we weren't sure how to afford the cost of college, we found a way (another lesson--"if you want something bad enough, you'll find a way").

I've said this one before too:  Surround yourself with people that support your dreams, that give wings to your flight.  As my daddy said, "can't never did do nothing."

Camp Blackberry V

A couple of weeks ago, we finished Camp Blackberry V.  It's hard to believe that we've been doing this for 5 years now. 

What's Camp Blackberry?   It's a week at our house with our grandchildren.  24/7. 

We have planned activities, lots of arts and crafts, field trips, hikes, and enough swimming that they should have been pickled by the end of the week.

We laughed together, we cried together (a little bit).  We sang together--boy did we sing.  I might hear "Boom Clap" in my sleep for months.  And Justin Timberlake's "Can't Stop The Feeling" may never leave my head.

I suppose that I should explain the name a bit.  Our last name is Black and we raise blackberries.  It's really as simple as that. 

Five years.  Hard to believe.  I know that the first year my wife and I had our first nervous breakdown on day three of the camp.  It was when we got the call from our daughter that they might be stuck at the beach because of the weather and weren't sure when they might get home.

The second year we made it to day 5 and I don't even remember what precipitated the breakdown that year. 

This year?  No problem mon.  We had one with Strep and another with walking pneumonia by the end of the week but hey...we're experienced at this thing (although we did repeat many times that we know why God gives children to young people instead of old people like us).

Was it easy?  No way.  Was it fun?  All around the clock.  Was it a learning experience?  You betcha (and the kids might have learned some things too).

Why do we do this?  We want to be a positive influence on the lives of our grandchildren.  We want them to experience some things that they might not have otherwise.  We want the cousins  to get to know each other and become lifelong friends. 

We want to be a part of their lives.    We want them to benefit from the experiences that we have had in our lives. 

Several people asked me for a Camp Guidebook.  So here it is.

1.  Plan ahead.  Know what you want to do.  Know the best day to go to the zoo.  Those cheesy things in Pigeon Forge that you swore you would never do?  The kids will love them.  This year it was The Comedy Barn.  Go see it.

The Children's Museum in Chattanooga is awesome.  The aquariums in Chattanooga and Gatlinburg are too.

2.  Don't plan elaborate meals or, if you do, make the kids part of the cooking experience.  There's lessons to be learned there too.

Keep meals simple.  Go out to eat.  Or do carry-out.   Too much time in the kitchen means too much time away from doing stuff with the kids.

3.  Roll with the punches.  Be flexible.

4.  If it won't result in a trip to the Emergency Room, if it won't scar them for life, if it won't adversely affect the adults they will eventually become, do it.

Above all else, have fun.

In the end, Pat won the game

1098 wins.  8 National titles.  38 SEC championships.  23 All-Americans.

I don't even have to stop to tell you who I'm talking about.  You already know.

Pat Summitt was a legend, and not just around here.  People all across this country know what she did not just for women's basketball but for all of women's athletics. 

She made all those Neanderthals that didn't think women could play sports, any sports, eat their words.  She proved you could be female, aggressive, and non-apologetic.  Oh, and that you could kick some guys butt on the basketball court.

She changed things.  Forever.

And then Alzheimer's.  Dreaded, debilitating, unforgiving Alzheimer's

I have always been a Pat Summitt admirer but I have since realized that I was more a Pat Summitt disciple.  As the many quotes attributed to Coach Summitt have appeared in a broad range of media services, one in particular stands out for me.

"Here is how I'm going to beat you.  I'm going to outwork you."

That's it.  Simple.  To the point. 

Although I would insist that to reduce Pat Summitt just to a work ethic is unfair and blatantly wrong.  

She was one of the greatest basketball coaches of all time.  She and John Wooden are in a class by themselves among college coaches (that guy Geno just doesn't qualify yet--he hasn't changed the game).

She was smart.  She knew the game of basketball through and through.  Knew how to coach it.  Knew how to teach it.

She set high expectations for everyone in her program and then held herself to even higher standards.  She was tough as nails and expected you to be so too.

Before she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's, she made the statement "there's something more I'm supposed to be doing."

Nobody could ever have considered that this something would be Alzheimer's.  That hideous, horrible disease. 

I saw Pat once well after the diagnosis.  She was shopping with an ever-present assistant.  She was a  disturbing sight.  My wife and I both were aghast.  This regal, articulate woman was reduced to a shell.

When I looked into those same steely eyes that were definitely a trademark, I saw nothing--an emptiness if you will.

Yet, it appears she lived the end of her life on her own terms, becoming a spokesperson for Alzheimer's research and definitely influencing lots of donations toward the goal of the ultimate victory--a cure.

Alzheimer's and dementia affect far more people than most realize.  You don't really appreciate the affects until it hits home.  You can't.

Loved ones that don't recognize you.  Or have no idea where they are or what they are doing. 

The last couple of weeks have been an outpouring of love and respect.  Let's all remember Pat not just for what she did but how she lived her life.  She lost this battle but she won the game.