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!”