A Joyous Trek

Written By: Emily Crowell | Issue: 2018/09 - September

Every now and then for a day or so I find myself adrift in a fog of melancholy. (Melancholy being the siren song for creative genius, of course.)

Having learned in recent years that feelings pass, and I may as well not get into fights with them, I like to find a good place to sit on these melancholic days. Coincidentally, my sweetie and I had already planned a lunch trip to Jones Knob on the Bartram Trail when I was visited by ennui.

It’s not a long trip to Jones Knob from the trailhead – about three-tenths of a mile, with a leftward veer at the fork – and it’s a perfect place to wander listlessly along, caught up in your own mild disconsolation.  (Does this make you want to go hiking with me?) The trail passes through a field, and I love fields, so I had to start working to hold on to my melancholy.  In late summer the grasses are darn near as tall as my head, and wildflowers abound in brilliant hues that seems to generate their own light.  Even on a day as overcast as my mood, this stretch of trail sparkles with light.

For some reason I always expect to see a bear in this field, even though I never have.  It helps me to sing a song as I go along – on this day it was a made-up tune called “If I Were A Bear,” sung to the tune of Beyonce’s “If I Were A Boy.”  I apologize to anyone who has to share a trail with me.

Moving on and slightly up, we reached Jones Knob and unpacked lunch – black bean burgers, homemade mac-and-cheese, and coffee.  More flowers up here, and more varieties of grass than you’d think existed if all you ever looked at was a lawn.  I laid on my back against the warm rock, closed my eyes, and listen to the buzz of bees that filled the air.  I used to be scared of bees until I realized they’re not interested in me because I’m not a delicious flower.  Being comfortable surrounded by oodles of busy bees makes me feel small in a good way, sort of like staring up at the stars and contemplating the vast barely-knowable universe does.

By the time we got back to the car, my mood had lifted, despite myself. Sometimes a long, difficult, all-day hike is called for; other times a short, observant, contemplate the what-ness of grass and bees hike is called for.  (The views from Jones Knob are pretty nice, too.)

From Highlands, take Highway 64 toward Franklin for a little over seven miles to a left turn onto Goldmine Road.  In 0.8 miles, take a left onto Dendy Orchard Road, then a right in 2.2 miles onto a Forest Service road that ends at the trail head.  The stretch of trail in question is on the right.