By Ethan Hollifield
The ruggedness of the mountains and mountain rivers will teach you more about your own fragility than any poetic stance, or self proclaimed scripture on the meaning of life, ever could. They are the quintessential essence of the balance between order and chaos: one which could not exist without the other. Wild, untamed places that have survived the test of time, as our mountains have, are needed now more than ever in a world that has become stale and watered down. However, even the ancient rock that makes up our mountains can, and has, been eroded away by time. The necessary chaos of the natural world of our mountains is slowly being eroded away by the order of modern society (what some would call, progress). Everything has to be safe, everything has to be mundane, everything has to be so… expected, at least by modern standards. Even our “adventures” have to be safe anymore. The problem with outdoor recreation is that it sets a precedence on nature, in that it provides tourists with their expectations and fulfillment from the natural world, rather than the reality. There are very few true outdoorsman left in this modern world. Sure, there are those who claim to have a knowledge of the mountains, and in our case ,the rivers carving them out. They might even boast of all the named trails and streams their feet have tread. But these are paths now well worn, even on our rivers. Well marked with signs and even paved, or laden with gravel, to make it as accessible as possible. More often, these are paths made more so with the intent of narcissistic social media fame or with tourism revenue in mind rather than for the sake of personal discovery. We give them names like “scenic hike” or “nature trail” to disguise that intent, and to give the false impression of wilderness to those who are used to trees as manicured lawn ornaments. Most could not name a single plant or creature that they themselves trampled or picked away from the cold, dark Appalachian ground it came from.
Heaven forbid that one may find himself on an unknown stream, fly rod in hand, chasing wild trout that are, for the most part, ghosts that haunt our imagination. Or that one may even find himself on the back bone of a highland ridge, neither knowing where or what is expected of him. In either case, the only trail, or map, or help that can be offered is from our own grit and determination. This is what makes the plight of man meaningful: that our finite existence on this earth has some merit. That what some find as trivial pursuits do indeed contain a hidden truth, and that is of the self reliance that our mountains can teach us; that even trout and fly fishing can teach us if we allow it to exist as God himself created it. This is a truth our forefathers who settled this harsh and rugged land knew all too well, and one that we are allowing to slip away as silently as the last cry of the last Appalachian Whippoorwill.
The mountains, along with its native people and animals are tenacious, but even this tenacity has its limits. The demands of industrial civilization are slowly chipping away at the mountains, trying to tame its rugged nature. We’ve even tried to tame water and trout with dams and tailwaters and stocked deformities that can only be considered the same species of fish by their genetic traits. We’ve tried to degrade trout fishing and all of its traditions down to this illusion called “opening day” which represents more of a senseless slaughter rather than any good action of conservation.
My point, if there is one in all of this, is that our wilderness in the Appalachians and the idea of self reliance and self discovery it taught our ancestors is slowly being withered away by societies narcissistic fulfillment, our need for outdoor adventure without the risk involved. We need our mountains, our rivers, and the trout within them now more than ever to balance the mundaneness and the orderliness that the modern world continuously dumps onto us. I would never want to imagine a time where our mountains and rivers and trout lose their wildness; their untamed nature being the key to teaching us about our own personal growth and fulfilment.
Ethan Hollifield is an Environmental/Physical Science Teacher and is also a guide for Southern Appalachian Anglers.