Photography from the Smith river valley and in an around southern Virginia.
high G turns.
There is no hope on main.
The light has been a real pita lately.
I was dizzy that day and after bobbling my way up the sketchy trail I decided not to push my lock climbing the rocks...but somebody did, watch to the end to find out who.
There is a large bone in there.
This doesn't look like much unless you happened to be watching the bears that made the holes. Mama bear and two cubs beat feet before I could get my camera on them but they left these divots.
Oh wow! I looked this up and it turns out to be dependent on the mycella rhyzome of the chanterelle mushrooms I was harvesting nearby! I also found more chanterlles about 30ft up the hill from the waterfall area I found this crazy plant in.
The wildest part is that this little white flower actually uses the underground part of a chanterelle. The bit I harvest is really just a celebration of its reproductive cycle, according to an old BRCC biology professor I once new by way of telnet back in the day who happened to have a degree in fungal genetics.
Chanterelle – Cantharellus cibarius – Hiker's Notebook
Somebody buried a bike pump here for folks to use. Pretty cool feature at IC Dehart park. When I trained here there were no trails and I would surf the vast mowed fields. This is also the place where I krunked a rib after a fierce endo - grass was mowed straight across a ditch. This led to some confusion when the not yet famous Jerimiah Bishop misheard "rib" and offered to help me fix a "rim" instead. I got to check out his 17lb mtb before he smashed the course record at the poor mountain hillclimb, being challeneged by my kid the whole time. He only got away after the rotten bottom bracket on his clunker gave out and siezed. Bishop was shocked when he saw this after the race.
This is a photo of the deer that got away. I thought for sure I had just taken my first deer with a crossbow and calmly packed up while listening to all the correct sounds, even a roll over and "death rattles" only to find my undamaged arrow laying in the field as if the ninja deer was being polite by giving it back. After I made sure(no blood on arrow) I climbed back into my treehouse and saw this little mistake in the curtain, one of a great many I've made over the years.