Fresh Air

During my recent trip to Georgia, I spent a treasured hour sitting on the porch of a cabin in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. I was surrounded by the tree canopy, listening to the morning chorus of birds, breathing the fresh air. Even in that brief time, I could feel the pressures of city life begin to ebb.

This week, two Travel Arts Syndicate contributors, Kurt Repanshek and Sophia Dembling, write about where, how and why to spend time outdoors this summer. Kurt, who is an expert on U.S. national parks, writes about how to visit them while avoiding summer crowds.

"The national park system offers a gorgeous lake shore with a chain of islands to explore," he says, "a secluded corner of North Carolina steeped in Appalachian lore, an overlooked gem that anchors Nevada’s border with Utah, a geologic wonder where you can escape southern Utah’s convection-oven conditions and even some oceanfront real estate to pitch your tent on."

Sophia, in her monthly column, "Wandering Mind," has this to say:

I feel sorry for people who treat the great outdoors as a drive-through experience. I’ve been stuck in traffic jams in Yellowstone park and while I’m sure some of those people eventually parked to hike, judging by the emptiness of the trails my friend and I explored, most people were evidently driving from site to site to ogle the natural wonders and then flee back to their cars.

Such a crime.

Why not park and hike just a little bit? It takes a lot of work to get to genuine wilderness and certainly a stop with the mobs at Old Faithful is de rigeur, but you’re nuts not to spend some time out on your own two hiking boots where you can hear the silence, see tiny wildflowers and rush-lined ponds, birds and tortoises and vistas unobstructed by camping trailers. If hiking sounds hard, think of it as walking. All you need are two legs, good shoes and a bottle of water. Most parks have short, hard-to-get-lost-on trails that offer an inspiring taste of the experience.

Sophia's column appears regularly in the Chicago Tribune and the Dallas Morning News. Kurt's national parks story may run in a paper near you.

Terese

The Cowboy Church

I've just returned from a few days in northern Georgia. While driving down the highway in Hiawassee (mostly mini-malls and gas stations), I saw a sign that said "Cowboy Church" and wondered what that was. So I stopped to find out.

Fronting the highway are a pawn shop and music store run by Pete and Dorothy Underwood in what used to be their Gulf filling station. A few steps lead to what used to be the garage — now the home of the Cowboy Church. At one end is a stage with the side of a log house on the back wall and a porch. Parked next to the stage is a black 1949 Ford. ("Pete took the motor out three or four years ago and has been working on it," Dorothy commented.)

Another of Pete's projects — a buggy — is in the back of the room, which is furnished with a motley collection of chairs, an upright piano, some rug remnants and an interesting assortment of objects (crosses, cowboy boots, a washtub fashioned into a bass, rifles, guitars, gas lanterns, stuffed birds and more). Two prints of Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper are hanging on the wall along with a poster listing the Ten Commandments, several pictures of Jesus and a rendering of Lower Manhattan (where I happen to live), with the Twin Towers still in place and the words "United We Stand."

Dorothy told me there would be gospel singing at the church that night and invited me to return. I did. It was great. MC'd by Bro. Alan Flowers who preaches at the church on Sundays, I heard some fine singing, particularly from an 11-year-old girl named Emily Carey. Remember that name. I think you'll be hearing more about her in coming years.

If I lived closer to the Cowboy Church, I'd go there often. And should you be passing through Hiawassee, Georgia, on a Saturday night (or on the first two Friday nights in the month) when they're singing and playing gospel and bluegrass, I recommend that you check it out.

Terese