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Monday, Sept. 20, 2004 - 9:11 p.m. Call this part 1 of �My vacation, in photo essay format� (sorry if it is slow to load on your computer�) My desire to write here has almost completely abated. Time constraints, along with fatigue, have made this effort more a chore than something I enjoy. Not abandoning D-land. It�s just that right now (and for the last few weeks, for that matter) I can�t for the life of me come up with the ability to string words together into sentences and paragraphs. Stop laughing. I know my limitations as a writer, and freely admit them here. Once the garden finally dies from frost and freeze, and my related time consuming activities (especially canning, which continues at a crazy pace even at this late date) comes to an end, I will be in the mood to share more on this page. Maybe I will be motivated next week. Don�t know. But for today, I just want to leave you with vacation photos that (almost) speak for themselves. In other words? A bunch of photos, with small captions for explanation. Sorry. That�s all I have for now� This photo was shot from the top of the driveway for the only cabin higher in elevation that ours, early Tuesday morning. It�s too bad a few more limbs weren�t removed from the dead and dying trees in front of our site- then you could see the awesome view we had. How�s that for a steep driveway? Every time I drove the Vibe down this hill, rocks slipped under the tires. Going up was a strain on the 4-cylinder engine too. You have to remember one thing, if you think I am making a big deal out of this foothill of the Smoky mountains- we are life-long �flatlands� resident. Everything there seemed like Mt. Everest to us� Lease took this shot from the inside of a �through the mountains� tunnel we drove through each time we left Gatlinburg. The original photo was very orange (due to the lighting). I flipped the hue, and this color of blue appeared instead. Sign marking the boundary of the national park. I like the �International Biosphere Reserve� designation, too. Sounds so much cooler than �Trees and Hills�, doesn�t it? This creek runs alongside several apartment buildings in downtown Gatlinburg, Tennessee. There are so many creeks and rivers running every which way in this town, it�s hard to tell where they all start and end. I set my camera on manual, and slowed the shutter down to cause the �blur� effect on the cascading water. That was what I was aiming for, anyway� This is the only area that I landed any fish , too We did each catch several very small suckers (3�- 4� long each) at another spot later on Tuesday. But just to the left of this shot , in a small , slow pool, is where I caught my only �wild� trout. I think it was an immature Brook Trout, which are protected in the area (all catch and release only). Here is that one, $40+ dollar trout(shown actual size, too): Pretty sad, huh? And notice his lip- damaged from another encounter with a hook in the recent past. At least I caught A trout� To fish inside of the city limits of Gatlinburg (but outside of the National Park area) requires two fishing licenses. I bought each for both of us (3-day all Tennessee permit included), at a cost of over $40. We fished for about 2 hours on Tuesday, I tossed my line into the waterfall�s pool on Wednesday, and it rained so hard on Thursday (when we were in route and at Nashville- more on that later this week) I didn�t even put a line into the water. That�s some pretty expensive fishing. Luckily for Lease and I, the fishing was much better on Friday and Saturday in the Shawnee National Forest, in southern Illinois� One last shot: Lease and I, sitting on the wall of some fort-like monument (sorry- didn�t notice the name) near the top of the public area of the main road running through the park. We had just returned from a 1.7-mile hike, each way, on the Appalachian Trail. In other words? We were worn out, sweaty, and slightly red faced. Not a great photo of me, anyway. Lease looks great, as always. Just look at the mountains in the background. That�s what I wanted to capture in this shot anyway�.
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