Waiting

Shades of things to come. The annual

fall colors display draws thousands

of tourists to the Virginia Creeper Trail.

As we continue to avail ourselves of the various hiking and biking opportunities found at Mt. Rogers NRA, Leonard and I find ourselves awaiting the outcome of two events – one political, the other natural – each of which could profoundly impact us, albeit in distinctly different ways. I'll start with the more positive of the two, the upcoming display of Fall colors.
Logging practices of the early 20^th century nearly obliterated the diverse selection of conifers and deciduous trees indigenous to the Jefferson National Forest. And what human greed didn't destroy, Nature continues to work on vis a vis a blight that has all but effaced the American Chestnut from its native zones (and continues to thwart efforts of scientists hoping to save that particular species of tree).

One way to identify a tree is to look

at its seeds. These acorns are from

the Northern Red Oak.

Thanks to the foresight of politicians of earlier eras who created national forests and to the U.S. Forest Service now charged with managing them, the Appalachian woodlands are returning to their former glory days, and folks like Leonard and me are the beneficiaries of their vision.

Fully appreciating the arborial splendor of the JNF requires nothing more than a slight bit of curiosity and a pocket guide. We're using the National Audubon Society's Familiar Trees of North America (East).


Trees with imperfections were sometimes spared the woodsman's axe. The gnarled trunk of this old tree is a great example of art in nature. (I see a hand grabbing a chicken's leg. What do you see?)

We're hoping not only to become more savvy forest dwellers but also to be more helpful to what the locals refer to affectionately as “leaf peepers.” These are tourists who hit the northeastern U.S. each autumn in droves, hoping to catch the leaves at the peak of their transformation. This onslaught of onlookers promises to greatly increase traffic on the Virginia Creeper Trail, which will mean an increase in activity for us at Green Cove Station.



Eastern Hemlock – Unrelated to the herb used

to poison Socrates. Early European settlers made

tea from young leaves, and the needles were used

in root beer.

From what we're seeing, the peak display time could hit in the next week or so. It's something we're looking forward to, assuming we're still here to enjoy it. This brings me to the other looming event I mentioned earlier.

The U.S. Congress must act by midnight tonight to continue funding for the federal government past the current fiscal year's end. If this does not occur, most federal agencies, including the Forest Service, will suspend operations.

Depending on who you ask (and when you ask them), the visitor center Leonard and I are staffing will either close, or it won't. Also, the campground we're staying in will either close, or it won't.

Regardless, we're committed to turning this proverbial lemon into a more palatable alternative. After all, we still have Texas in our future, right? Ah, not so fast, Grasshopper! You see, the assignment awaiting us in Texas is at another federal site, Big Bend National Park. Under different circumstances, we'd just pick up stakes in SW Virginia and move to our next gig early. Only, that park would also close.



Fungus amongus. This tree, felled by a tornado that hit Grindstone

Campground in 2011, now provides nourishment for other organisms.

It's not like we lack alternatives. We could always use the extra time to take a more leisurely drive to Texas and explore the I-40 corridor more closely than our original timetable would allow. Or, we could just hightail it to Texas and hang out there.

Needless to say, the uncertainty of the situation is making life a little interesting. For now, we wait, fingers crossed in our rolling condo in the woods. As my mother used to say, “Beats a stick in the eye!”



Remember the good ol' days?

My mother used this mascara. Let's just say this wasn't one

of Maybelline's better products.

Hanging out in what is, effectively, a museum gives me plenty of chances to think about the past. The shelves and walls at Green Cove Station are covered with merchandise from the general store which, along with the building, was donated to the U.S. Forest Service in 1977. I sometime hear visitors waxing nostalgic about how nice it would be if we could all return to the “good ol' days” of, say, the 1950's when times were better, simpler.



The elimination of malaria in North America,

once a major killer here, stands as is one

of public health's greatest accomplishments.

Except if you were Black and only permitted to ride at the back of the bus or a woman unable to escape the clutches of an abusive spouse because he controlled the family purse or a parent terrified his or her child would succumb in the latest round of polio, diphtheria, or some other (then) unpreventable malaise, things were surely better than today. Laissez bon temps rouler!



Prince Albert, still in the can. Won't

someone please let him out?

Every generation has its “good ol' days,” and, reality aside, I admit it's fun imagining life in a different era. During a recent lull in activity at Green Cove Station, I indulged myself in a trip down memory lane, as evidenced by the accompanying photos. Anyone else remember these?

A magazine for 15 cents.



Whether you were constipated or just itching to make gun powder, the general

store at Green Cove Station had a cure for whatever ailed you.

Injector blades ranks up there with Tang and Jiffy

Pop on the scale of important modern innovations.



Telephone pole insulators doubled as 

chair coasters and candle holders.

Check out the label on this elixir. If you still coughed,

it didn't matter because you slept through it!



Before “Grand Theft Auto” there were...paper kites!



Before they made cute galoshes, there were these gems.

Boxers? Briefs? Try men's onesies!

 

GypsyCare, Part II: Finding physicians and dentists on the road

Relocating to a new city can be a real hassle, especially when it comes to finding new service providers It's one thing to try to sniff out a decent hair stylist or barber and quite another to do the same with doctors and dentists. Imagine doing that once a year - more if you need something other than the standard annual exams and screenings – and you'll get a sense as to just how complicated GypsyCare can be.

Our provider options are further limited by our decision to volunteer at national parks and forests. Public lands are typically situated in remote areas where care options for permanent residents, never mind vagabonds like us, range from spotty to non-existent.

We tried the obvious route – asking fellow volunteers and locals for recommendations – but found that problematic for a couple of reasons. First, most of our volunteer colleagues split their time between RV and traditional residence. Their regular docs practice hundreds of miles away, which doesn't help us at all.

Second, providers recommended by the locals aren't necessarily willing to add new, temporary patients to their already heavy patient loads.

The answer to our dilemma came via something AARP advises for uninsured/under-insured adults awaiting Medicare eligibility and about which I'd learned while working with the public health system in Kansas - Community Health Centers, or CHC's.

The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services contracts with providers for a variety of services, including exams for healthy and sick adults; complete care for pregnant women; and immunizations for children. Patients pay according to a sliding fee scale.

We discovered a CHC less than 10 miles from our campground. Our exams, conducted by a nurse practitioner, cost us $45 each, including blood tests.

I also received a referral for a mammogram, done at a nearby hospital. Out-of-pocket cost for that: $184 ($155 for tech and facility; $29 for radiologist).

Both Leonard and I were really pleased with the quality of care and will undoubtedly seek out a CHC the next time we need GypsyCare.

By the way, we could have paid for my expenses using my health insurance, but (as explained in last week's post) that would have necessitated traveling to South Dakota. You don't need a PhD in economics to understand why coughing up a couple of C-notes made way more sense than either driving or flying to SD just so someone could tell me I'm still capable of fogging up a mirror!

We've made appointments for semi-annual cleanings/exams at a dental practice about 20 miles away.

Coincidentally, the U.S. Forest Service here at Mt. Rogers held a first aid training for volunteers last week. Toss in a pocket knife and a glue gun, and maybe we don't need to see a doctor after all?