If a tree falls in the woods...

I woke up earlier than I would have liked, considering the fact that I had finally laid down at 5am and everyone else at Bobby Miller's house was seemingly still asleep.  So I spent the rest of the morning on my sofa/sleeping bag bed alone with my thoughts.  The boys had discovered the existence of a guest bedroom downstairs since the last time we stayed here, so I had the living room to myself this morning.  Just hours earlier, my room had been the scene of a jam session and party, but had since become a place for quiet contemplation.  My mind wandered from thought to thought.

I've stayed on course in my quest to remain alcohol-free so far.  It's been tough, though.  Temptations abound, especially for a musician on the road.  Most advice I've read suggests avoiding people, places and situations that might remind me of drinking or trigger cravings.  This really isn't an option for me right now, but I'm ok with that; I figure it's all part of the path I'm on.  I did the math and calculated it has been eight weeks, or 56 days, since my last drink.  The longest I can remember going without a drink, since I started drinking, was 10 weeks, so that same length of time can serve as a milestone along the way to my end goal.  Eventually, we packed up Mini Pearl, bid our hosts adieu, and headed out for the Corbitts' family mountain cabin in Franklin, NC.

Mini Pearl, Kay and Shadowfax ready to hit the road!

I did the driving, and Brett worked from his shotgun office.  He secured a gig in November at the same venue we played last night, so now he'll be building another tour around that.  It was raining hard when we arrived at the cabin.  Newsome Corbitt was eager to take advantage of the extra-strong current on the sliding rock, and Brett and I felt compelled to try it out for ourselves.  I got a little banged up my few times down, but didn't sustain any serious injuries.  The cold rain didn't seem quite so cold the first time I reemerged from the natural slide's landing pool.  I felt awake.

Corbitt Sliding Rock

The rain let up, and Brett and Isaac Corbitt we're eager to kill some rabbits, so they armed themselves with a .22 and a 12 gauge, respectively, and headed into the woods.  Mikey and I tagged along (quietly, so as not to scare off any potential supper) for the hike.  The soggy weather may have kept the critters hidden, but the extra rainfall had enhanced the series of cascading waterfalls.  It was clear Isaac has spent a good deal of time here by the agility with which he navigated the path, and his choice to go out barefoot.

Back at the cabin, we were all hanging out on the porch when we heard what sounded at first like firecrackers.  We turned to see a tree falling down the mountain's side, snapping several smaller trees on its way down.  Further investigation seemed warranted.

Dissatisfied with the earlier hunt, Brett waited until dusk to head out again for rabbit.  I accompanied to explore more of the property and document the venture.  The Corbitts live on a closed-down national park, so there is plenty of room to roam.  Brett and I walked down to the park's old picnic area and sat quietly for several minutes on a bench waiting for critters.  We didn't see any rabbits, but noticed several lightning bugs, a rare sight for us back home.  We headed back to the cabin and just before we reached the driveway, I spotted the silhouette of a rabbit in the now fading light between the path and the river.  I pointed it out to Brett, and he aimed his .22.  The first shot must have jammed, or been a dud, because we heard a "click."  Brett was concerned the rabbit had heard it too, so he quickly re-cocked the rifle and fired.  It was the rabbit's lucky day, and we would not be dining on rabbit stew this evening.

Undeterred, Brett decided to venture out once more, this time with a flashlight, since he now knew something had just been moving around out there.  Once again, I joined him.  I admired Brett's determination as he meticulously scanned the landscape.  I enjoyed the walk and found the use of the flashlight in the dark woods added a heightened sense of awareness to the adventure.  Something about it, on which I can't quite put my finger, reminded me of my childhood.  After walking up and down several paths and not seeing anything besides lightning bugs, Brett finally conceded defeat with, "Well, I guess that'll have to be."

- Jon