10/25/24 1100: Bridges...and why they matter.

 

I was stunned to learn a captivating piece of history this morning while doing some research around the Peter Guice Memorial Bridge (which connects a section of I-26 in the Green River Gorge area of WNC). I’m not really sure why this bridge has captured my attention in such an extraordinary way..and yet even as I write this...I’ll acknowledge much of the reason has to do with the fact that I’ve kayaked under it dozens and dozens of times while guiding inflatable whitewater kayaking trips down the Upper section of the Green River.

If you will, let me explain the significance of this bridge. Originally called the Green River Bridge, I’ve found conflicting statements regarding when its construction was completed. From what I’ve read it appears to have taken five years to build. (1967-1972) This bridge connects both sides of I-26 as it crosses over the Green River between Saluda and East Flat Rock, NC. (Note here, that the construction of I-26 and all the parts...like this bridge was a VERY big deal for transportation, economic impact and so many other things.)

It’s also significant to note that this is the exact location that Peter Guice built the first wooden bridge across the Green around 1820. His son and then grandson took up the task of maintaining the bridge. (In the spirit of “why is this a big deal?” as I’ve said to myself too… “so what...it’s a bridge” it’s important to note that the way of travel back then was Indian footpaths and trails and this one was called “Howard’s Gap.” And this path crossed the Green in this particular spot because this was the “way across.” This was the ford used to get across the river until Guice built a toll bridge there.

So here’s where it got interesting for me today. Get ready!

According to an article written by Terry Ruscin and published in the Gaston Gazette dated September 8^th, 2019, Peter Guice’s grandson Joseph “Joe” Ripley Guice replaced the bridge that was destroyed in the 1916 flood.

Let me say that again, the bridge that connected the banks over the Green River maintained by the Guice family was WASHED AWAY in the flood of 1916!

Here’s why this is significant to today. The damage and destruction created by Tropical Storm Helene in Western North Carolina almost exactly one month ago (Sept 26^th, 2024) has been compared over and over to the great flood of 1916.

Except. it’s worthy to note this VERY significant difference. The bridge that crossed the Green River in 1916 washed away. The bridge that crossed the Green River is 1924 did not. And thank GOD!

The Peter Guice Memorial bridge is the tallest bridge in the State of North Carolina standing 225 feet high. I don’t know if I can paint a real picture as to the significance and value of this bridge brings to this region.

On the days and weeks following the disaster that Helene brought to our doorstep, the connection between Greenville, SC and areas in and around Asheville, NC was traversed here using I-26 and the critical infrastructure such as the Peter Guice Memorial Bridge to gather and distribute much needed supplies such as food, fuel and water to name a few.

While thankfully this bridge wasn’t one of the hundreds of bridges in Western North Carolina that were compromised as a result of Helene flooding, the realization as to why bridges matter has been hit home to me over and over again.

A bridge creates short-cuts and in some cases, access at all. What likely took maybe one hour or two hours to traverse around, the bridge shortened travel times or created the one way in and one way out access. So now if a bridge is suddenly impassable or gone altogether well...you see where this is going.

Bridges matter! And maybe this was in fact why I would gaze up at the Peter Guice Memorial Bridge every time I went under it while kayaking on the Green River.

It’s two hundred and twenty feet high!! It’s HUGE! What a feet to build this impressive structure. What a feet. And thank god for bridges like this one...that withstood the pressure and stress of the ENORMOUS amount of water that raged down the Green River that day, just one month ago.

Photo Credit: https://www.historicsaluda.org/vintage-postcards/

If you’d like to learn more about the flood of 1916 check out:

https://saveculture.org/elder-wisdom-oral-history-archive/

(click on “Floods and Freshets”)

If you’d like to read the article published in the Gaston Gazette check out:

https://www.gastongazette.com/story/lifestyle/2019/09/08/beyond-banks-traversing-our-waterways/3465103007/

(scroll down to the section titled “Peter Guice Bridge’)

 

 

 

10/22/24 1030: When reliability isn’t reliable.

 

In the spirit of slowly arriving into the space of “new normal” here in Western North Carolina, yesterday I was reminded (and triggered) that we’re not there yet. Just about the time you think you can settle into “things being more reliable”...something happens to remind you that there not.

To get from Brevard to Hendersonville, NC, one of the most effective routes to take is along Kanuga road. However, it’s only been a week or so since the Kanuga route was accessible because of landslides and road damage. (And when I say road damage, what I mean is, the road literally fell off into the ravine below in one particular place and only one lane is even usable there.)

The way that road crews managed this particular spot was to put up signs in both directions that basically said, “please alternate.”

Follow along here as I describe the progression of events. First round...no signs at all. Everyone just automatically knew that to drive this road after Helene meant to be extremely cautious and patient. You slowed down from speeds you would have driven this road just 30 days ago and carried a general sense of “alert and aware” with you. So when you arrived at this location where the road was only one lane (because there is literally only one lane remaining there) you stopped and looked down the road around the curve to see if anyone was coming and then slowly drove through this spot...alternating.

Secondly came the “please alternate” signs at this location. Funny how once a sign shows up some of the human compassion and allowing for patience disappears a little.

Thirdly, when the temporary traffic lights showed up, (this felt a whole lot more normal as a way to experience this one-lane-road-spot) every driver knows how to conduct themselves using red or green as the guide, so things progressed much more smoothly at this location. UNTIL, the traffic lights failed.

This is what I experienced yesterday. The lights were working fine when I drove through there in the morning, but had failed by afternoon. When I arrived...cars were lining up in the lane I approached from. The light was blinking red, which I hadn’t seen here before (also something we’re predisposed to now...the way something was or how something worked before doesn’t necessarily mean it will stay that way). Note here, this is a mountain road which means it’s not straight so you can’t see much further past the few cars in front of you because of the gradient and curves. Since the lights showed up, it might take a minute or two to get through this spot. I now was stopped in this lineup of cars for a good 5 minutes...and then the horn honking started...and then a few folks decided to pull out around the lineup and drive in the opposing lane (to pull out into opposing traffic meant if you met an oncoming car there was no where to go...because the opposing traffic lane had a guardrail that was protecting the mountain drop off on the other side). Next thing I know here comes a car speeding so fast that stones were being kicked up and ...well...let’s just say things were getting a little outta hand at this point. Eventually common sense kicked in and an alternating traffic pattern began again. As I drove through and past the temporary traffic lights I could see that both were malfunctioning. On one side one was blinking red and the other side was just dark...no lights at all.

It was a little unsettling to experience this moment of confusion because it was an immediate reminder of all the chaos and unknowns from all the previous days and weeks. Especially when it leads to frustration and eventually bad human behavior.

I thought to myself, “This is what it feels like when what you come to rely upon becomes unreliable.” You have no other choice but to problem solve and adapt and overcome.

The best part of this...is when humans adapt so quickly and land in a state of collaboration and cooperation that it’s heartwarming.

It’s fascinating to consider the thousands upon thousands of things each and every day that we come to rely upon. Here in WNC, communities have been tested by being torn down even below basics level (power, running water, cell signal, internet, food, shelter, heat), not to mention everything gone in some cases.

This intense level of test creates a whole other level of frustration, loss of hope, dismay, anger, a short fuse and on and on. So when something simple like traffic flow management on a one lane section of mountain road is fixed...and then it’s not...all this flares right back up again.

I was also reminded from this traffic light experience that things around here are still very fragile. It’s going to be a while before we feel solid and stable again. This was a window into the “new normal” for now.

I am becoming aware each day that this won’t last forever...this unstableness. Things are improving day-by-day. Hope is in the air again. In spite of small set-backs like this one.

But I do yearn for the reliable to remain reliable. Patience grasshopper, patience.

 

Photo credit: from somewhere online

 

Rachel Dickson 2 minute video sharing about Re-Opening Day in Pisgah Forest, Oct 18, 2024

Wow. What a wonderful day here in Western North Carolina on Re-Opening Day (Oct 18, 2024) in Pisgah National Forest after being closed for 23 days due to Helene ravaging through the area. I was truly afraid of what I might see in the wake of this storm in the forest...but I'm delighted to report otherwise!

A very special thanks to all the people who worked tirelessly during these 23 days to clear landslides and tree debris from access roads!

I took 276 from the Brevard, NC side then turned left towards the fish hatchery to rd 455 to the trailhead of the Daniel Ridge Loop trail. While the changes to the landscape and riverbeds is clearly recognizable, the forest is rested and ready for your visit to admire her beauty once again!
Beyond thrilled to have been back in the sanctuary of nature once again!

Note: There are hazards in various places and some trails are storm-damaged so it's important you stay alert when visiting Pisgah.

Click here or on the image above to play the video.

 

 

 

10/18/24 2030: Re-opening day at Pisgah National Forest, Pisgah Ranger District, Western North Carolina!

 

The forest has literally been closed since Helene blew through the mountains of Western North Carolina. And for reasons that may not seem apparent. The land and trees and rivers did their best to hold strong to these destructive forces...but sadly there was damage done. Landslides blocked access, trees toppled and rivers swelled, raged and rearranged itself.

All that said, I had no idea what I would see visiting Pisgah National Forest today. The Forest service restricted access to the public beginning September the 25th and reopened the Pisgah Ranger District portion to the public today, October 18^th.

Because of my not wanting to face the facts that this forest (that I’d grown to love so much more deeply over the past year) most likely would look very very different. I wasn’t really ready. So I stalled.

But...the anticipation to spend time with her got the better of me and off I went. It was around 11am.

I was truly surprised to not see piles and piles of downed trees like I’d seen in other places. Sure there was a tree down here and a tree down there (as evidenced by the remaining cut of said tree next to the roadway) and there was evidence of a rather significant landslide that covered the road nearer the turn toward the fish hatchery on 276. But overall, nothing was incredibly shocking to see on the drive into the forest.

I expected to see road 455 closed off as I got past the fish hatchery on my way to the Daniel Ridge Loop trail head. I thought the bridges would be washed out. To my surprise 455 was open all the way to the trail head. There already had been repairs done near the bridge right by the trail head. Clearly the creek had breached the road and the bridge and washed some of the road away...but it had already been repaired! Incredible.

 

 

I knew as soon as I looked up the creek bed from this bridge that the changes I suspected to see would begin here. I’d spent countless hours exploring the banks of this creek beginning at the trail head of the Daniel Ridge Loop trail all the way up to where it turns and goes up and over the mountain away from the creek. I had studied and learned and got acquainted with nearly every rocky cascade and rocky cluster along this creek because I had videoed these places in multiple seasons and uploaded them to my Youtube channel (RdicksonOutdoors). Not to mention all the meditative walks I’d taken while listening to the healing water sounds that can be endlessly found here. This was a sacred place. Which is why when the gates opened here today...I made a beeline for Davidson Creek.

I needed to know...if the magic was still there.

The parking area for this trail head is pretty close to the creek...and you can see and hear the creek through the trees just as you begin walking towards the steel bridge (which I also thought might be compromised, but it was still there too).

I stopped...and then was suddenly drawn down a side-trail that led to the waters edge. And then I cried.

I couldn’t believe how different she looked. I recognized very large identifiable rocks that were familiar to me but they were in different places and the water flowed in a distinctly different pattern.

It was strangely familiar...but completely different.

I knelt down and just looked...at how different this all was to me. My eyes swelled and I wiped away the tears. And then...it was as if a calm wrapped around me. And what I heard was, “She doesn’t care. It doesn’t matter. It’s just another day here. Because at the core...it’s all the same.”

Kind of odd...and maybe a little harsh...and not the spiritual poetry I was seeking right at this moment.

There was a certain strength I could feel in the air though. A solidness.

And as I began to explore the riverbed and how things were arranged now...I realized there was a “fresh start” or a “renewed” sense here. Everything looked incredibly clean. Like everything had been washed and tumbled.

I also began to realize that I was nearer the bottom of the creek bed right now...and as I went further and further upstream there wasn’t as many new piles of smaller rocks and sand. Of course, all the smaller rocks and previous tree debris in the creek upstream had now been intensely washed down stream. So the farther upstream you went, the more it just looked different...many places I didn’t recognize at all because every rock had been moved...and the water flowed over or around them like they’d been that way the entire time.

If you hadn’t known what the creek looked like before...you wouldn’t have known anything out of the ordinary happened here.

This made me wonder about something. If there was no one to tell what it was like before...how would anyone know or care about how differently it looks now?

I began to wonder if I was putting too much of my own meaning in the changes that took place here? And as I pondered this I realized...BECAUSE everything had changed here...I can re-film the whole thing and it will all be different from before. It’s like I’d discovered a brand new place in the forest essentially. WoW! Nothing but new adventure and exploration and discovery awaits here! I can get to know her all over again...and just how exciting this realization became.

I spent hours walking amongst what was once familiar and trying to recognize what had changed. One particular moment that just took my breath away was when I visited a place I called “The Cathedral Place”.

This clearly was the site of an old grist mill of some kind because there’s concrete remaining across the creek and remnants of those days still linger there. A most beautiful cascading waterfall comes down the mountain across the creek from here. I couldn’t believe my eyes...the entire thing looked like it had been scrubbed. There used to be a log jam that’s no longer there and the entire riverbed has been dug out...and there’s a deep channel coming out of a new waterfall. Clearly this area was packed with smaller river rocks that had all been picked up and washed downstream revealing the bottom of the channel that had been covered over for who knows how long.

Everywhere I looked, there was a familiarity...but a brand new direction of flow. In some places both sides of the creek were now lined with a plethora of bowling ball sized rocks and the main creek channel was now in the middle. Where maybe it went more to the right or more to the left before.

I spent a lot of time thinking about resilience and impermanence and wondering why change can be so jarring.

Maybe this is the big lesson here? Nature doesn’t seem to care that her landscape has changed so dramatically. Just another day for her in the forest.

I have a whole new understanding for how things get moved about along a creek bed. Obviously, it all has to do with the rise and fall of the water. When the creek rises, stuff gets moved about or swept away entirely.

This newness has me leaning in to a better understanding of what’s happened here. And letting go of what was before. Embracing change. Letting the flow, flow. And then jumping in to get reacquainted with the “fresh start” of things.

Maybe change isn’t such a bad thing after all?

The good news is...the magic still lives in Pisgah National Forest! And she’s resilient as ever!

 

 

10/17/24 18:30: Becoming reacquainted with the forest I once knew.

 

Tomorrow is a pretty big day! On Wednesday, October 16^th, the National Forest Service of North Carolina released a statement that the Pisgah Ranger District in the Pisgah National Forest would reopen to the public beginning Friday, October 18^th. Tomorrow!!

(Wow, this is WAY sooner than I ever expected to be able to walk into this forest again. Many, many thanks to those who worked tirelessly to make this even possible!)

There was also a “word-to-the-wise” cautionary statement, “Like many areas in Western North Carolina, the Pisgah National Forest was heavily impacted by Hurricane Helene, and visitors may encounter several hazards caused by storm damage, such as: Landslides along forest service roads and trails, fallen trees and large limbs crossing trails, washed out trails and bridges, rough roads that require high clearance vehicles where previously it did not, limited cell phone service in case of emergency.”

The last statement there about cell phone service has always been the case in Pisgah, but a good reminder since it seems things are a lot different than we might remember it all throughout the forest due to “artistic expression” and “rearranging of the furniture” by Helene. (While I make light of the impact that Helene ravaged upon the forest, I do this as a way to prepare myself for what I may see tomorrow, because yes, while I am excited to visit this sacred place again, I also know that I won’t be fully prepared for what I will see.

It’s worth mentioning here that Pisgah Forest gave notice of recreational site closures (campgrounds, boat launches, developed recreation sites and roads) on September 25^th in anticipation of this storm.

So the math says, it’s been 23 days since the public has been allowed entry here.

It’s also worth a shout out to Dave Casey, District Ranger, Pisgah Ranger District because he said this,

“We understand the forest is a place of refuge for many, especially during times like these. There’s still plenty of work to do, but we look forward to once again having folks back on their public land.”

See, he gets it. He clearly understands what a holy place Pisgah Ranger District represents for so many people who have visited this very special place.

All that said, I’ve realized that because I’ve been reluctant to see the geographic changes to the land with my own eyes means that I’m not ready to let go of what I knew her to be. Yet...I also know that I am being called to become reacquainted with all those specific places I once retreated to for sanctuary. And I am also being called to see the beauty that’s still there in whatever rearranged version she now sits from within and to let her be exactly what she’s become and love her for it.

I know I will see mud-slides, riverbeds rearranged, piles of trees upon piles of trees, but I will go taking the same risks as I have done before...the risk that I may find new adventure, undiscovered wonder and a silence that makes you stop and listen. The risk that my heart may be stirred, that tears may fill my eyes, that the wind may whisper a secret from the universe. These risks and more are worth leaning in to, at least to me they are. And from many conversations I’ve had with those of you who are reading this...I know you feel much the same way.

So tomorrow I will go and get reacquainted with one of my most favorite places on earth, Pisgah National Forest, Pisgah Ranger District. It’s time to become familiar again.

Photo Credit: 춘성 강 pixabay dot com

 

 

10/15/24 0900: One step forward, two steps back.

The progression of things here in WNC. One step forward, two steps back.

When I woke up this morning I was slightly triggered by the site of my cell phone returning to a “searching for service” status. What’s this? I thought we were past this place of no comms? Then I found myself wondering, “Ah, I’ll bet Verizon removed the rapid response connectivity unit that they so kindly installed just down the road to support poor and non-existent cell phone coverage.”
According to what I’m hearing, this may in fact be true.

It’s been absolutely astounding to watch in realtime the speed of repairs being made and services being restored. Sections of roads that were washed away have been filled in and repaired and returned to “driveable” status, thousands and thousands of homes that were previously without power have been restored, running water access has been restored in many locations, “cut and shove” methods of clearing trees from roadways and other points of access have been implemented since day one. All of this has happened in just 19 days. And it’s happening all around us every day.

You can’t drive anywhere and not see the debris and remnants and reminders that Helene crashed into these mountains just 19 days ago. And I can attest to the fact that while restoration IS happening...there is still a state of un-stableness all around us. And it’s unsettling.

This is the thing. While major progress has been made here it is also worthy to note we are all being taught that an endless supply of patience and fortitude is mandatory at all times. As things are brought back into a state of “new normal”, it’s evident that this “new normal” requires extra travel time, extra planning to accomplish anything, a relentless amount of pivot and adaptability, and a whole LOT of loving-kindness directed towards one another.

As we seek to lean in to trusting some semblance of “normalcy” it’s triggering to see a fast-flowing creek, it’s triggering to look at your phone and see “searching for service”, it’s triggering when the power intermittently goes out, it’s triggering to see the constant stream of destruction videos on FB.

I turn my cell phone off at various times throughout the day as a way to control the triggering inputs and as a way to create a “balm space” around me. Calming instrumental music is almost always playing in my background spaces. (Mostly Native American Flute music) Doing the daily required things of course is a necessity. But for me, writing has been a wonderful source of processing so much of this. A way to express from a heart-felt space what I’ve experienced and what I’ve observed other’s have experienced.

It’s one step forward, two steps back all around us. I’m learning more and more each day how to truly lean into this ever-evolving time/space we find ourselves in. But I’ve also grown irritable around what has become meaningless drivel. Things that used to seem so important...aren’t any longer. It’s as if what Helene has brought to our front doorsteps has called upon us to sort through what truly matters and what no longer matters at all. Almost like a mandatory culling has been enacted upon us. And there are many things I don’t want to have to sort through. I don’t want to have to choose to leave behind what I used to hold very dear. But yet...I don’t have the luxury of this choice any longer. Many of you know exactly what I’m talking about here.

This is the space from within we sit. Together. And yet I do know...that on the other side...there will be a renewal. A rebirth of something completely new. 

 

 

10/12/24 19:00: Churches.

Little did anyone truly know that the pulse points of vicinage could be touched and found in the most restorative ways by what was and still is being demonstrated by churches.

Crisis (especially to the level of “biblical devastation” witnessed and experienced here in Western North Carolina) has a unique way of proving the fortitude of a people.

When the dust settled and the waters began to recede and things shifted from rescue to recovery immediate needs became blatantly obvious. Many lost everything. A call went out for help. And that call was answered first by those closest then by those from miles away and then by those States away and the donations began to pour in. First by the car loads, then by the trailer loads, then by the truck loads.

It’s one thing to load up cases of water and cans of food and paper products and diapers and formula. It’s a whole other thing to receive, store and distribute these to those in need. And in any kind of efficient, get-it-in-the-hands-of-the-people kind of way.

Churches already had the buildings and the resources and the people (seemingly on call and ready to help) to be the “base camps” for donations to be received and distributed right into the heart of the communities that needed them the most.

It just kind of happened. Like this “system” was already in place and waiting to be called up out of a “ready reserve” of people as a reinforcement for shattered communities.

And at no point did I witness or experience any kind of congregational positioning. It didn’t matter what religious affiliation to which any of these churches were previously aligned. Because everyone suddenly found themselves surrounded by and affected by the same common denominator. Everyone suddenly became human first and foremost with the exact same basic needs like water and food and shelter.

It was nothing short of magical to watch unfold!

And now, in each community and town and city in Western North Carolina there are dozens and dozens of churches still actively involved as distribution points for the tons and tons of supplies that have been sent here by your communities...many of your towns being hundreds of miles away. And in some cases some of your churches served as receiving points for your donations which were then transported here to the churches in our communities.

I think it’s important for those who donated to this very worthy cause to know first hand that, in my experience, no one was turned away. Rather...when you walked into one of these distribution sites you were met with smiling faces that said, please take what you need. No questions asked.

I could go on and on about what a soul-fulfilling, needs meeting, heart-felt exchange that the giving and receiving segment and that essentially Helene brought to our doorsteps. Literally.

Unquestionably this disaster has pushed us back towards one another again. In ways I don’t think we ever imagined could be possible. Let’s not forget what living from this common denominator feels like.

I want to offer my gratitude to those who turned towards this and leaned in.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart! To the churches, to the pastors, to the congregants, to the complete strangers that volunteered at these churches, to the women, to the men, to the young, to the elderly, to the human...who found their humanness. Thank you!

#WNCstrong

Photo Credit: blog.campingworld.com