It’s about 5:15 p.m. on Friday night. I’ve got to go back to work soon to train another client, but I’ve used some spare time today to plot out an adventure for tomorrow.
I’ll be going to House Mountain State Natural Area near my current home of Knoxville. I’ve been here before several times, but rarely in the cold. I just got off the phone with one of my friends and clients, and he’ll be coming with me, so that should mix things up a bit. To mix it up even more, we’re going to do our routine Saturday morning training session at a different gym that’s part of the same company. Often its the little things that keep life interesting. At this other gym, we’ll get fresh scenery, some different exercise machines, and a chance to visit with one of my former managers, who’s always a delight to see.
The plan from there is to grab some breakfast, head to the mountain, and then be out by afternoon. Tomorrow night, I’ll be going breakdancing at the Valarium. The last time I went dancing was weeks ago in Washington D.C., and I can’t wait to hit the floor with the local dance crew and see who I might meet.
ACCOMPLISHMENTS:
1. Met LJ, my semi-anonymous client. Got to use some different machines to work his upper body.
2. Dropped off goodies and got to visit with our friend, who is a manager at the club.
3. Ate breakfast at Best Bagels.
4. Detoured to LJ’s house, where I got to try colloidal silver for my sore throat, tour his place, and learn the new roads to get there.
5. Hiked House Mountain, which included lots of climbing on boulders.
House Mountain rocks
When I see a cool spot, I've got to get to it.
Examining lichens on a stone
LJ at the West Overlook
View to the West
A fantastic cave I wouldn't mind sleeping in
Crossing the stream of the woods
6. Used the web features on my new phone to determine that Sony Pro Duo 2GB memory sticks would work with my camera, the Sony Cybershot DSC-F717 if I had an adapter.
7. Bought the above equipment at Best Buy.
8. Ate at a new restaurant for me (LJ had been there before). It was a local Mexican place known for its tomales and salsa. I drank a horchata, a rarity for me.
9. Examined the cellular blinds at LJs place.
All in all, today has included a lot of firsts for me, and LJ too.
But it’s not over yet. Now it’s time to rest up, because I’ve got dancing bugs all over me, and the Valarium is calling my name.
HOUSE MOUNTAIN
On another adventure, my parents and I went horseback riding in Cades Cove, then cycled around the cove, stopping at Abram’s Falls to hike in. I jumped off the waterfall into freezing water twice, hiked out and finished the bike ride, all with only a plain pesto bagel, one blueberry muffin, and some vitamin water on my stomach. So I had the same breakfast today.
House Mountain has all the rustic beauty you’d expect from the East Tennessee woods. Low, there are twisted knots of undergrowth, small boulders and thick trees. High on the ridge, a pebbly path through evergreens and ferns evokes the feeling of childhood, playing through fantasies of monster-hunting and sword-wielding. The mountain has good-sized boulders to clamber around on, and I enjoying climbing an overhanging one, though I had to fight its chill, which drew the heat from my hands with every new hold. I crossed a fallen log over at least a 10-foot drop and even found a few lingering icicles near the trail.
LJ had never ventured here before, and though we did take breaks for photo and video-ops, he managed it without much difficulty, getting in a solid leg workout.
House Mountain is a quiet place, close to the city, free of the fame the nearby Great Smoky Mountains National Park endures. It’s like an extended back yard for those who grew up on wooded lots in East Tennessee, the lucky kids like me who had woods to explore growing up. It had caves, great views, and a smell that to me is intoxicating: the smell of woods full of fallen leaves, mosses, and streams.
I’ve had plenty of past adventures here, which have included such highlights as seeing a broad-headed skink, swinging on a vine, climbing some of the steepest rock ridges and once leaving the University of Tennessee and climbing to the top alone in search of clarity for my troubled mind. I’ve brought groups here, and all both of my past girlfriends (yes, that’s an intentional grammar mistake). But today, I returned to it as to an old friend for the comfort of a listening ear, talking about fantasy novels, technology and future plans with my friend LJ, enjoying introducing yet another to its hospitality.
This place has seen me visit at my most troubled times, when I came seeking relief from despair, and also at my most delighted, when I traveled its loop with the blitheness of young love. It is a comfort to know that nature’s powerful presence remains reason enough to come back again and again. I can add to my memories a walk and a talk with a unique soul (that’d be LJ’s) this brisk January day.
HIKING AND DANCING
I’ve had some of my best dance nights on Saturdays when I’ve hiked. Maybe it’s the fresh air you get out in nature, or just the relaxation of being away from the city, but I’ve been known to pull out new breakdancing sets on nights when I should have been tired from the day’s trek. Or, it could just be that when the mood of adventure strikes, you get on a roll and have to go with the flow.
TEA AND INSPIRATION
Between dropping off LJ and dancing, I decided not to take a nap. Instead, I’ve been drinking Old Bush Shui Xian, and watching a DVRed Man vs. Wild episode, “Oregon.” I get so much inspiration and education from this show, and sipping the tea eases me into relaxed-but-ready state. With two dogs and Jing Jing for company, and the sun setting, this is better than sleep for charging up for a night out.
THE CLUB AND THE TRIBE
I’ve danced at clubs in Bangkok, Hong Kong, Washington D.C., New York City, Atlanta and Knoxville. I’ve been to beach full moon parties in Thailand, and danced in mega clubs in other parts of China and in a Malaysian apartment. But the Valarium is my home club, like it’s predecessor Fiction used to be.
I’ve never been to a club with as many breakdancers. It’s too loud to talk. I don’t know all their names. I’ve never eaten a meal with any of them. But in the Valarium, I am among kindred spirits. We speak in clapping and smiles, in gestures, punches and pats on the back. We converse in the language of movement, a language that needs no translation anywhere in the world. Some of the dancers will forever be strangers to me, and yet I sense a deep feeling of the mutual respect and appreciation that humans so desperately crave. This unique kind of relationship forged among dancers is a phenomenon I’ve witnessed almost everywhere I have danced, a fascinating little corner of what the world and human nature has to offer.
I’ve rarely seen a line so long outside, and I did miss dancing to a remix of Rihanna’s “Disturbia,” but it didn’t matter. It seemed all the regular’s were there, plus a gal (with a smile that could light up a room) who’d moved away, back on a visit. Most everyone was on form and full of energy. DJ Slink took over and offered a great mix. I usually listen to and practice to very fast songs, so occasionally I have to hang back for slower beats, but I didn’t have to wait long Saturday.
There were some trouble-makers in the circle. It’s not uncommon for out-of-it patrons to stumble into the breakdancing circle unawares and run into one of us, but on this night some conflicts between those watching the dance circle started to get out of hand. As I watched the pushing, shoving, and general macho attempts to assert dominance, my thought was: “If you want to fight, go outside; if you want to dance, get on the floor and out of each others’ faces.” But the true dancers kept taking back the circle.
The flood of people in the Valarium produced the same result that all crowded mega clubs do: it wasn’t long before our space of floor was saturaded with ice and alcohols. But you can’t stop dancers like us. If you, good reader, are a club goer who feel compelled to take your drink on the dance floor, do us a favor and keep it in its respective glass or bottle. It’s quite rude not to.
On to the good: I’ll remember the night for watching and performing high-impact moves while swept up in the storm of music, pulling out some tricks I’ve done before, letting my heart race and feeling my lungs fill like I was sprinting. Sweat all over, grit on my hands, my whole body pulsing to irresistible tracks, spinning out of control on my back and shoulders. Bliss. Plus, I got to see a gal I recently met in action at the club, and I wasn’t disappointed. I also had to give props to a guy who’s getting better and better at headspins. I need to catch up.
The dancers I know at the Valarium and myself are separate from the general club crowd. We come for the exhibition, the movement itself–we don’t need go-gos with too much makeup, VIP tables, overpriced liquors or “dress-to-impress” clothes. We are like all the tribes of ancient man who invented dance in the natural course of life. They danced to drums and chants by firelight. Those I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with at the Valarium and I, we are flame of the genuine human spirit burning among the frozen. We coax out our nature-/God-given endorphins at night, as our ancestors did, with moving lights and rhythmic music, to lift ourselves above the pain and mediocrity of everyday survival, accessing the joy in ourselves, the best in ourselves.
SUNDAY
Surprisingly, I am not sore at all and have been alert all day. I’ve even trained a couple of folks. It’s a warm, sunny day, best used for running errands, visiting a friend and doing a bit of sprucing up at home. In retrospect, I can say last night once again confirms that I dance better when I hike on Saturday afternoon.
WHAT ABOUT THAT COLLOIDAL SILVER?
Well, I did do some poking around about colloidal silver. Here’s an article from the Mayo Clinic. That said, my throat didn’t bother me for the rest of the day.
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