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Across the gap and through the woods
Whoever said “To a friend’s house the way is never long” didn’t go the way we did – across Jackson County’s great divide with its 2-foot snowdrifts – to dinner at Dona’s.
Up until about 5 p.m. Sunday, I had always agreed with that sentiment. It was prominently displayed in my mother’s kitchen on a sampler, and it made sense to me that even though you might have to travel a long way to visit, the fact that someone dear to you waited at the other end would make the journey seem short.
That was the purpose of the sampler, I’m sure, because it was cross-stitched for my mother by a longtime friend, Ima Creech, and was a parting gift when Ima moved from Chamblee, Ga., to Cumming, some 60 miles away.
While seeing the adventure racers on Saturday provided a measure of inspiration, that’s not what made us move forward with our hike in spite of the weekend’s surprise snowfall that blanketed the county’s higher peaks and left us walking through 4 to 6 inches. Instead, it was our desire to accomplish a goal we had set years before – walking from our place in Canada to see our good friends on Johns Creek.
We weren’t doing anything new. Families in the two communities are historically linked, and friends and neighbors often walked up and over Rich Mountain in the days before automobiles became common. Going by way of Sugar Creek Gap had a special meaning for me, since it was a landmark pointed out from every field when I worked on Tommy Beutell’s Christmas tree farm.
Whether it had significance or not, through Sugar Creek Gap turned out to be the only route that was feasible for a day hike from Wolf Creek to Brown Mountain. We needed to cross the divide between Canada and Caney Fork, and we needed to do so at a point where we could link to roads that continued west as they made their way down from the Gap’s nearly 5,000-foot elevation.
We counted on a scenic walk. After all, we would be crossing Gage and Charley creeks, traveling up and over Charley Ridge and Neddy Mountain and around Rocky Knob on our way to the spine of Rich Mountain. What we couldn’t anticipate was the dimension of grandeur that the glistening snow and blue, clear sky added to our expedition.
As pretty as it was, the snow was something of an aggravation as well, causing us to expend more effort than we expected. The 30- to 40-mile winds that whistled through the gap took their toll as well.
Along about the time Hench Knob came into view, we were pretty tired. Contrary to all expectations, the way to our friends’ house was starting to seem long.
At that point, with bailing out no longer an option, we traveled on to Sam Queen Gap.
An hour and one lost contact lens later, we were fighting our way through a laurel thicket on top of Brown Mountain and rethinking the merits of the trip.
“What does that guy know about how long it seems to take to arrive at a friend’s house,” I remember thinking, just before we got to an old road I recognized from leisurely strolls with Dona.
In a few more minutes we were there. Their house was warm and inviting, and supper was almost ready.
So now it’s time to amend that old adage. The writer is probably correct in his contention that most journeys to visit friends are easy and pleasant, feeling short despite the actual distance covered. And while our almost-15-mile trek felt lengthy, it had numerous rewards, including the white carpet that was Sugar Creek Gap spread out flat and sparkling in the sun as we looked down from Rocky Knob Ridge.
Still, if I were the one embroidering that sampler, we’d need a bigger piece of cloth. Mine would have a longer message that might not be as catchy but would fit all sorts of journeys: “To a friend’s house the way may sometimes seem exceedingly long, but the scenery is often spectacular, and getting there is always worth whatever effort it takes.”
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