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[at-l] Caught, at last!

This message is a great deal longer than I intended and longer still than it
had to be.

Ye Gads!  "Newman seen!" - sounds as though I am a fugitive.  I am the  one
of whom Matt, Felix, and Alice speak.

I had some trite, but witty response all keyed in and ready to send, but a power
outage just now saved you, the subscribers, from some of my drivel.  I will
tell you that Frank didn't quote me exactly in the article.  I don't ever
recall saying the word 'darn' unless it was immediately followed by 'my socks'.
I'm sure I've never followed the word with 'fun'. Thanks for filtering my
phrasing, Frank.  What I probably said may not be entirely appropriate for 
this LIST either.  

Be that as it may, trail work is FUN.  It is an opportunity to provide a 
reasonably maintained trail for those that follow.  I sure as heck appreciated 
the tireless efforts those faceless 'Swingers of The Scythe' (apologies to 
Robert Frost) while hiking the AT on a hot, hot July or August day while 
negotiating what had recently been a longish blackberry patch through which 
the AT made its way.  I have also cursed (but gently) a few of you who for one
reason or another had not cut back the briars as quickly as I would have liked.
So I try to give back to the Trail community some of what was done for me and
the countless others who trod the paths which are the handiwork of others.
                                                                          
Yes, the safety glasses and hard hat do lend a touch of authenticity to the 
photo.  Never do trail work, especially chain sawing, without them.  And chaps,
of course!

The Smoky Mountain Hiking Club has INVITED me to be a designated sawyer on the
section from Cheoah Bald to Wesser, NC this Saturday and maybe Sunday.  What
Allan Duff really said when he called was that the Club was trying to get four
certified chainsaw operators onto the AT between Fontana and Wesser for the
weekend.  What he meant was "get your bad-self over to the trail, with your
equipment and put your money where your mouth is."  They wanted to get all the 
blowdowns removed on that stretch so that the following weekend we could 
concentrate on the AT in the Smokies (park) on the weekend of Mar 15-16th.  
That is when the 'chainsaw window' opens for use of power equipment in the park.

The U.S. Forest Service - Cheoah District won't be able to assist with saw
operators this weekend, but they are driving us into Cheoah Bald (well, close
anyway) and Yellow Creek Gap where four groups of trail maintainence volunteers
will begin clearing the AT.  There will be two groups at each locaton.  One
group heading North; the other South.  If needed, we will head back onto the
Trail on Sunday to finish that work which may remain after Saturday's push.
Thunderstorms, heavy rains, and high winds of the past several days throughout
this region may have provided additional work for the crews.

May your saw never fail to start; and may you never run out of gas before 
your saw does.  I've had to finish too many blowdown removals with an axe.
Fun for one or two trees, but damn tiresome after that.

Those were White Pines at Rock Gap and they had attacked by the Southern
Pine Beetle.  Never met a NORTHERN Pine Beetle, but I guess he would NOT greet
you with a, "Hi, y'all!".  The evergreens which are dying (they are largely
gone now) near Clingmans Dome and other high places are the Balsam Fir. 
According to reports and literature from the National Park Service, they
have been weakened by acid rain/fog and finished-off by the Wooly Adelgid.
                                                                          
The section of the AT which Patty and I maintain for the Smoky Mountain Hiking
Club in the Park is just north of Clingmans Dome.  It is greatly affected by
this anomaly.  Walking through what used to be a dark dome of evergreens and
now having to use sunscreen gives new meaning to the phrase, "united we stand;
divided we fall."  When one of the evergreens crashes down, it takes many with
it.  The remaining trees no longer have the strength of the whole to help them
withstand the winds that surely blow along the ridgetops of the Smokies.  And
so they continue to fall, and fall, and fall....  When the last one crashes to
earth, a part of me shall die with it.  As it does each time I go there, now.
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