Hiking the Mountain

Today i hiked (alone) to the top of the far ridge in this photo. I was looking for a Jett Cemetery on the old Beach Farm. The Beach farm consists of 1500 acres back in a hollow. The man who lives there now, and owns some of the land, led us on his tractor as far as he could. He pointed up and told me to start climbing, to the highest point on the ridge. I asked him if there was a trail, and he looked at me like i was nuts. He said "No trail 'll take you to them stones." He had been up there 10 years ago, and had seen the graves. The graves were all grown up in weeds at that point. I climbed straight up, through the timber. It had just rained so i left foot prints. Deep in the woods i stopped, and stood still. The only sounds from miles around were birds chirping. Occasionally i would hear something fall from a tree. Once I heard a large branch snap and fall to the ground. The trees were dense and very tall, their leaves just starting to turn to reds and oranges and yellows. I can't remember the last time that i felt this alone and isolated. I continued climbing up and went as far as i could go, but couldn't locate the cemetery. Climbing down proved just as challenging, as the ground was wet and steep. I needed to climb over and under fallen tree branches, jump crevices of water, and walk sideways to avoid falling. As I got closer to the bottom, the mans coon dogs stared barking loudly. I knew that i was almost back to where I had started. It was only after i was back down that he told me the woods were full of copper heads and rattlesnakes. And black bear. He had almost been bit by two rattlers when he had climbed the ridge ten years ago, and had to out run them as they came after him. He then told me that years ago, two people had come to find the cemetery, only to be carried out at 3 am after they were lost and needed rescued! As we were leaving, the man asked me for my address, and told me that when it was a bit drier, he would venture back into the woods and find those graves for me. He promised to send me a photo of what he found. I told him he just broke my heart to think that those graves were all grown up in weeds, neglected and forgotten. I said that he was probably one of the last people to even know of their existence. I felt bad after I spoke, as he looked like he was saddened by this fact too. As i shook his hand, he asked me if i "had the email." I was surprised, and said that yes, i would love to give him my email address and that he could send me the photos after he had taken them. He said his granddaughter was smart and could figure out how to send those pictures. He didn't have the email, but she did. We drove away. He said if we were ever in this area again to please stop by and say hello.