Lovin’ the Journey

by R. Mark Holloway

Acollege professor once told us music appreciation students, “I don’t trust anyone who does not like music. In fact, research shows anyone who does not like music is mentally disturbed.” I reckon you would expect that sentiment in a music appreciation class.

I was riding one of our many incredible mountain bike trails with my good friend Jim Horn when he volunteered, “I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like dogs and beer.”

If you do drink beer, it helps to mountain bike a lot...so you do not look like you drink beer.

I might be adapting some of these attitudes towards autumn leaves. I’ll be the first to chronicle and report the following: You might be mentally disturbed if you don’t like fall leaves on the trees. In fact, I’ve learned if you start sentences with the phrase, “According to a recent survey...,” people will believe you.

According to recent polling data, people are more apt to be mentally healthy when they gawk at fall leaves, jump into a pile of fall leaves, drink good coffee while looking at fall leaves, share meals while looking at fall leaves, sing songs while admiring autumnal hues, and drive back roads with friends while admiring the changing foliage.

‘Experts say’ is another excellent tactic to get folks to believe you. Authorities report 87 percent of Americans don’t really care that the dominant green chlorophyl draining from fall leaves actually reveals the other fantastic colors in an October leaf. Published studies indicate that 87 percent of statistics are generated spontaneously. Living here in Appalachia, I wonder about things most folks probably don’t. Before there were roads here and before that, train tracks and wagon trails, there were Indian foot paths. (My elementary school teachers meant no harm in the 1960s teaching us the word “Indian”, btw.)

Where those paths crossed, villages were founded, ultimately giving way to cities populated with non-natives like me. So, I wonder if Hitchiti and Creek and maybe even Seminoles and Apalachee tribes would wander up this way in the fall to enjoy the fall leaves? Were there tribal leaf lookers from the flatlands every season 1,000 years ago?

Appalachia means the other side of the river in case you are curious. Perhaps the Cherokee came here because of the leaves and not because they ran for their lives from the northern Iroquois. The leaves have been changing longer than there have been people here, officials say.

If you are a tourist and you are reading this magazine while looking at the leaves, we are glad to have you. Just remember, others have come before you. They may have walked here, ridden on horseback, traveled to Tallulah Falls on a steam locomotive, or in a Model T.

People now travel in Elon Musk’s spaceships but leaves still turn colors this time of year. Inflation and social change seem to have no effect on the leaves putting on their show for us.

Mark and Carol Holloway are outdoor adventurers and love the thrills of rock climbing and hikes to waterfalls and exploring all of God’s creation. They own PropertyStewards.com and are passionate about delivering excellent care to the homes and property of their clients. For More Information call 706-949-5937

Please enjoy your time here. Leave no trace of your visit on the trails. Buy some tasty food. Craft some mountain moments with your family and friends. Take some leaves home and press them into a memory.

If you would like, you can return after the leaves are down and help us rake our yards and clean our gutters. Scientific research indicates gutters are more likely to fill with fall leaves in Appalachia than gutters in Miami. (Next month our Search and Rescue team will provide Bartram Trail escort support for the annual Georgia Make-A-Wish Trailblaze Challenge hikers. The 20-mile route will be freshly covered in crunchy fall leaves offering additional obstacles to the dozens of charity chums.)

Am I saying you might be a fuzz off if you don’t like the fall colors? No. Not really. Am I saying you will be better off if you get out and embrace the season? Fo sho.

Fresh mountain air in your lungs and blazing yellows, oranges, and reds in your retinas lead to a song in your heart, a spring in your step and an entry in your journal, according to 4 out of 5 psychiatrists. (The fifth doctor must have been grumpy.)

If you cannot get your fill of this autumnal display, do not worry. The fall leaves will return next year. I promise.

See you on the trail.